#will keep it on my nightstand and read excerpts for the rest of my life wont stop me from reading other books

[echoesofadream]

so many books on my tbr and also so many books i have started but not finished and im thinking about reading dostojevskij instead

[losfacedevil]

Book Worms // J.T.K

a/n ~ This derived from a soft thought I sent to @gretasmokerising who then added onto it and inspired this piece. Just a sweet blurb I couldn’t help but write! The excerpts are actually from the book as well. Also @writingcold​ - my favorite Jake girl, I think you may like this lol. 

“Oh I forgot to show you! Look what Josh got me!” Jake spoke quickly, excitement clear in his tone as he dug through the gift bag he had placed on the kitchen table. 

He pulled out a soft cover book, eyes lighting up as he took in the front cover before turning it in your direction. He held up a copy of ‘Under The Black Flag’, another pirate book to add to his ever growing collection. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you took the book from him, turning it over in your hands as your eyes scanned the summary on the back. 

“When did he give you this?” You wracked your brain trying to remember seeing the hand off of the book. Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes at the memory. 

“At the car before we took off. He pulled it out of the backseat of moms car wrapped up in newspaper comics.” A giggle slipped past your lips as you turned the book back over, eyes dancing over the front cover. 

“I love how he supports your fascination of pirates, I have a feeling he saw this and heard you in his head talking about it.” Jake chuckled as you held the book out towards him, taking it in his grasp before setting it down on the table. 

“I didn’t talk about it that much did I?” He questioned, the sparkle in his eye only shining brighter as he thought of his twin reluctantly purchasing a book all about something he’d pick on Jake for being interested in. 

“It was definitely brought up in conversation once or twice, more so when you were drunk. ‘There’s this book I stumbled across, it’s a novel I think, maybe? I’m not sure but it’s all about pirates and their lifestyle’.” You giggled, turning to put the plates of left over food from the party into the fridge. 

“I mean, it’s true! The romance and reality of life among the pirates? You can never be too knowledgeable about pirates!” He beamed, kicking his boots off as he scooped the book up off of the table and made his way to the living room. He flipped on the overhead light, tossing the throw pillows to his side of the couch. 

“You should probably get changed before you get comfortable.” You called, washing your hands before making your way to your bedroom. 

You changed out of your party clothes and into your pajamas quickly, scooping up your latest read off of the nightstand as you made your way out to the living room; pressing a soft kiss to Jakes cheek as you passed him in the hallway on his way to the bedroom. 

A giggle slipped past your lips as you plopped down on the couch his book already cracked open and resting on the couch, whichever page he left off on saved. Plopping down in to your corner of the couch, you pushed his book over to his side careful not to bend the pages or lose his place. You settled in, pulling the crochet blanket off of the back of the couch and over your lap, propping your book up on your knee. 

“Do you want a water, doll face?” His voice startled you as he rounded into the kitchen, his red plaid pajama pants slung low on his hips, opting to keep the v-neck T-shirt he had worn to the party on. 

“Yes please!” Your voice was soft, eyes already dancing across the page of your book as he puttered around. The door to the fridge shut softly as he rounded the corner back into the living room. 

A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the way you were tucked into the corner of the couch, his book perched just slightly off to the side of where he had originally set it down. He placed the bottles of water down on the small coffee table that broke up the room, pushing it out slightly so he had room to stretch his legs. A sigh escaped him as he sat next to you, using the balls of his feet to push the table out just a tiny bit more, so his toes didn’t connect with the wood as he stretched. 

“You didn’t lose my page did you?” He chuckled, picking up the book and smoothing down the pages inspecting it for any damage. 

“Never that. I didn’t push it violently either don’t worry. I learned my lesson the last time.” You giggled, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. 

“Dog earring and crinkling the pages is painful to the books.” He chuckled, eyes dancing slowly over the pages as he reached over and rested his hand lightly on your knee. 

You both read in silence, the sounds of the turning pages and your soft breathing the only sounds dancing through the air for what seemed like hours. Jake had shifted in his seat, bringing his legs up and tucking them as close to the arm of the couch as he could comfortably get before he tapped on your wrist. A soft smile spread across your face as you lifted the hand your book rested in as he laid back, placing his head in your lap. 

Settling your arm across his chest you reached your free hand down, pulling your fingers soothingly though the locks of hair that wasn’t trapped between your thigh and the back of his head. His eyes fluttered shut briefly as you scratched at his scalp lightly, a sigh huffing out of his nose. 

You loved nights like this, the uninterrupted quality time together was something you yearned for after a long day out with his family, or show days in particular. He would cozy up with you, tangling his body with yours to get as close to you as he could. You loved being able to run your fingers through his hair without him fighting you on it - “no it’s tangled, stop it’s greasy, I’m sorry baby” - helping him into his most relaxed state. It never took long for his eyes to flutter shut, resting his book down against his chest as he drifted off into sleep. 

The feeling of Jakes hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you from your thoughts, you book long forgotten as he was the only thing dancing through your mind. Your eyes refocused on your book, trying again to read the same passage your eyes had danced over multiple times, no longer reading or processing the words on the pages. He pulled your hand down, pressing his lips to your palm as his gaze snapped up to yours, a smile spreading wide across his face. 

“Babe,” he cooed, waiting for your eyes to focus on his before continuing. 

“Babe, listen to this, it’s going to be so interesting. A pirate was, and is, someone who robs and plunders on the sea. According to a law against piracy which was passed in the reign of King Henry VIII, the term not only applied to robberies on the high seas but also to felonies, robberies and murders committed in any haven, river, creek or place where the Lord High Admiral had jurisdiction. A privateer was an armed vessel, or the commander and crew of that vessel, which was licensed to attack and seize the vessels of a hostile nation. Wanna learn about pirates with me babe?” His voice was high pitched, speaking quickly as if your interest would falter the more he spoke. 

A giggle slipped past your lips, admiration clear in your eyes as you looked down at Jake, rubbing your thumb along the stubble that kissed his chin. He beamed up at you, letting his book rest against his chest. 

“You know all there is to know about pirates don’t you? It does sound like it’s going to be interesting, maybe I’ll borrow it once you’re done with it.” You watched as his face lit up even more, his jaw dropping slightly as his smile grew wider. 

“Really?!” His eyes sparkled brightly, the word squeaking out of him. You nodded, bringing your hand back up to run your fingers through his hair once more. 

“Yes really, it can be something we can discuss as I read it since you’ll already be well versed in the pirate lore it holds.” Jake couldn’t stop beaming, reaching up to run his fingers across his bottom lip. 

“I can annotate it! Use your little sticky notes you use when you find something interesting in your books.” He tried to keep his cool though the expression on his face was a tell tale sign of how he truly felt. A giggled slipped past your lips as you nodded, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger. 

“I can give you your own pack of them so you don’t steal mine, but that would be cool.” 

The smile never left Jakes face as he nuzzled his face into your stomach, trying to hide the fact that you wanting to share his special interest with him excited him to no end. You took full advantage of the way his head was turned, scratching against the back of his head as he relaxed more into your touch. 

He focused back to his book, his eyelids heavy as sleep tried to envelope him. Your fingers slowed to a stop, hand resting gently on the top of Jakes head as you became fully engrossed in the story you were reading. The feeling of his hand tapping against your wrist pulling your attention back to him once more. 

“Babe listen! The original buccaneers were hunters in the woods and valley of Hispaniola, the mountainous Caribbean island which is now Haiti and the Dominican Republic. They were mostly French, and they lived off the herds of cattle and pigs which had been introduced by the first Spanish settlers.” He read around a yawn, hand coming up to rub at his eye. 

“Are buccaneers and pirates the same thing?” You questioned softly, earning a chuckle from him. He nodded his head, slipping a finger into his book and he rested it on his stomach. 

“Buccaneer and Pirate seem to always be used interchangeably in these books.” Jakes eyes fluttered shut softly, his face relaxing as he let his head lull to the side. 

You watched as his featured softened, sleep slowly tugging him into the grasp of slumber before his body jolted slightly, eyes springing open as he pulled a piece of paper out of the front cover of the book to mark his page. He let the book drop to his side, reaching up to grab your wrist bringing your hand down to press his lips to your palm once more. 

“You gonna fall asleep on me, sweetness?” You cooed, placing your hand back into his hair as he let your wrist go, nuzzling his face back into your stomach. He rolled onto his side, reaching up to press his hand gently against your side, tracing soft designs into your skin and satisfying his need for physical touch.

“No, just cuddling.” He mumbled, but you knew the song and dance all too well. 

Your eyes danced across the page slowly, knowing full well you’d be stuck in this position for a while as a sigh slipped past his lips. 

It wasn’t long before the movement of his hand stopped, soft snores escaping his lips as the movement of your fingers lulling him into a relaxed slumber. A soft smile danced across your face as you reached down, brushing your thumb over his cheek before resting your arm across his.

[prosaic-bun]

Sal Vindagnyr odds and ends

Pairing: Kaeya x Mc x Albedo

Novelette

Genre: Fluff - Angst (just a little) - Post 1 year timeskip

Author Notes: Hey everyone, as I mentionned earlier I made a super simple and easy to fill survey to prioritize my upcoming works. Maybe you would enjoy your favourite character receiving special treatment? »»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»Click Here«««««««««««««««««««««««««

Trigger Warning: none

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 (you are here) - Chapter 10 -------------------- Chapter 9

2.7k words

Soft lambent light filtered into the Headquarters of the Knights of Favonius’s alchemy workshop making the atmosphere luminous and tranquil. In the morning, Mc’s day was going pretty slowy - he didn’t have anything planned, his friends were busy with Mondstadt duties and his lovers were supposed to return from an investigation in early afternoon.

To keep himself busy he could have gone over everything he prepared for the expedition at the Peak of Vindagnyr that was scheduled overmorrow, but after already remembering the exact order of every bullet on his checklist, he worried he would turn crazy by the time Albedo and Kaeya came back. So like every sane person trying to avoid thinking too much, he decided the alchemy workshop needed to be tidied up floor-to-ceiling, thus for a good chunk of his morning cleaning duties were everything he thought about. He dusted most reachable surfaces, but more importantly he decluttered and organized the different study stations.

Mc was finishing up when he stumbled upon loose sheets of paper covered in a neat and precise handwriting. It didn’t look like anything personal, but he didn’t know if he should read it. Well since he organised the different books and documents based on subjects like a true archivist, it would make sense to read the notes - clearly not to satisfy his curiosity. «I am struck by the otherness of things rather than their sameness. The way a tiny pile of snow perches in the crook of a branch in the tall pine, away by itself, high enough not to be noticed by people, out of reach of stray dogs. It leans against the scaly pine bark, busy at some existence that does not need me. It is the differences of objects that I love, that lift me toward the rest of the universe, that amaze me. That each thing on [Teyvat] has its own soul, its own life, that each tree, each clod is filled with the mud of its own star. I watch where I step and see that the fallen leaf, old broken grass, an icy stone are placed in exactly the right spot on the earth, carefully, royalty in their own country.» (1)

Mc smiled to himself after he finished reading the excerpt of Albedo’s notes. How could a few pieces of paper layered with ink could encapsulate the alchemist so effectively. The nymph placed them on the side of Albedo’s desk where he kept most of his current projects before leaving the workshop and returning to his room.

Mc stayed in the doorway of his standard favonius quarter as he laid eyes on the gears and bag he prepared to explore the last domain of the mountain he called home. The nymph’s eyes continued to roam around the room, briefly stopping at the window to take in the view he grew accustomed to. He then looked at his unmade bed reiterating to himself that life was too short to fuss over making his bed every morning. All of a sudden, Mc felt something tug on his senses, asking him to interact with it. Mc spotted the communication mirror on his birch nightstand and subsequently fully entered the room to go get it. Mc deciphered Kaeya’s message by shifting the mirror in different directions to make out the faintly inscribed letters appearing on the reflective surface. «Be ready 13:00 + look under pillow.» The message left by the Cavalry captain was succinct and right to the point, the small sized mirror couldn’t be used to send detailed information unless reading the lips of the interlocutor.

Under his pillow? Mc picked up the fluffy object off the bed only to discover a sealed envelope that was hidden underneath it. As he freed the single sheet of paper kept in the envelope, the nymph wondered when exactly his partner was able to hide it in his room. The man couldn’t help himself but to grin since the level of drama instilled into an envelope sealed with wax was reminiscent of Kaeya’s usual theatrics. Only a few lines were centered in the middle of the neatly folded paper sheet.

«My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since, before any kiss.» (2)

-To my beloved morning glory

Kaeya certainly regained momentum in the enticement department since his bashful confession. The nymph refolded the paper and slid it back into the envelope with a dimpled smile as he basked in the delight he obtained by reading this specific assortment of letters in that precise order. The fibers of the paper felt velvety under his fingers and his heart felt like beating in a pool of honey, pumping golden nectar through his arteries as he was reminded of the last kiss he shared with the knight. As the nymph recovered from the memory, he figured he had enough time to bake something before the two knights would return from their investigation of nearby hillichurl activity. ****

After he heard the three brief knocks indicating the return of his favourite people, Mc jolted to go open the door of his room. Both men seemed pretty much enthusiastic and greeted him eagerly after their forced estrangement. Kaeya, as sly as ever, was quick to steal Mc a quick peck as if it was the hundredth time he did so. Albedo then moved in to hug the nymph, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, leaving a few kisses there before parting. After their embrace, Mc registered they already changed into more leisurely clothes since their investigation as they were wearing beach attires ready to unwind.

«Are you ready to leave, love?» Kaeya solicited.

«Do I need to bring something special? I packed a bag with a blanket and enough water for everyone.» Mc answered. «We are not going far, but you do need to change. Do you have a bathing suit and maybe a breezy tunic or robe cover up?» Albedo advised. «It can be something you wrap around yourself, the bed linens if you have to.» Kaeya added. «I did sow something for this type of occasion with Noelle not too long ago. Give me a minute.» Mc answered. If Albedo got the cue to leave the room, Kaeya on the other hand was standing against the frame of the window adjusting the neckline of his bathrobe, waiting for Mc to change. «Is a little privacy too much to ask?» Mc inquired more as a rhetorical question.

Kaeya obtempered, but put on a wry face as if the idea of having to exit pained him immensely. He continued his shenanigans up until he reached the door frame, Albedo whisking him out of sight with a scowl on his face. After Mc closed the door he changed into his newly made beach wear attire consisting of a bathing suit and half sheer half opaque bathrobe (Writer’s reference 1 (excuse their faces) - 2 - 3) and joined the two knights in the corridor. They then headed in the opposite direction of the main gate and climbed the many flights of stairs until they were on the same level as the Favonius Cathedral. Kaeya guided the group behind the gothic devotional structure and soon reached the most northern part of the city facing in the general direction of the Dornman Port. Beside them was a quiet quasi empty graveyard with only one man who could be seen refreshing the flowers on a tombstone. «We are going over there.» Kaeya claimed with a grin on his face now pointing to the North East. «Are you going to be ok gliding for such a long distance, Mc?» Albedo worried. Mc got closer to the low wall and evaluated the situation. «Well there aren't any obstacles and in the worst case scenario I’ll fall into cider lake or maybe crash onto that sandbank. Amber would nonetheless say I’ve been training for such a challenge.» «You should go first, so if anything happens we will be able to react appropriately. Oh and I believe in you, no doubts there.» Kaeya cheered. After Mc prepared his glider, he just had to orient his flight. He confirmed with the knights he should aim North-East of their location and Kaeya added he should look for a noticeably bigger tree on the other side of the shore. They warned him to not wander too much to the East or he would reach Wolvendom’s beach instead, which had many hillichurl camps. Mc was able to cross the lake successfully and landed on his two feet; equally happy to have made it and to be on solid ground once again. He was joined by Albedo shortly after who praised him for his gliding progress. They turned to look at Kaeya who decided to show off, landing earlier over the water and freezing a platform as the tip of his foot met the crystalline water. It only took a few more freezing steps to reach his lovers onto the embankment. The Cavalry Captain adorned a jaunty smile, relishing over the prowess he could showcase in front of his lovers. They quickly drove out a few anemo slimes before spreading out their blankets on the ground. Kaeya was the first to undress wearing navy swim briefs accentuating his perversely slender waist. He left in a hurry to dip his toe into the water and judge if the temperature was adequate for a leisurely swim. Albedo followed, in his white high waisted jammers keeping it elegant as usual, passing by Kaeya and went hastily deeper in the cool waters without hesitation. With the pace of the alchemist's keen steps, water droplets splashed onto Kaeya skin, ensuing a vengeful chase after Albedo creating concentric circular waves around both of them and properly soaking his partner. They continued bickering as they reached deeper water where only Kaeya was able to touch the bottom of the lake. Albedo boosted himself with a vigorous kick and tried to sink Kaeya under the water surface. Their combativeness wavered after a few minutes of dueling. Albedo latch onto, Kaeya’s back and secured his position by wrapping his legs around Kaeya’s waist. The ladder turned toward the beach, weightlessness bounces guiding the duo back towards it. Albedo and Kaeya recouped from their short-lived squabbling and turned their attention back to search for their partner. Few meters away, arms crossed and water just below the knees , Mc seemed amused while looking at the two knights. Mouth agape, Kaeya and Albedo stared blankly at the nymph. Mc had removed his previous bathrobe and looked radiant in his black swim briefs exposing his lubricious bare thighs (Writer's reference 1 - 2 - 3 - 4). How dared he just stand there so hedonistically? Why would he keep himself from joining them?

Sneaky smiles and complicit eye contact between Albedo and Kaeya resulted in them suddenly hounding down the innocent nymph, too enticing for his own good.

Mc tried his best to struggle, but he ended up held by his fists and ankles, rocked back and forth until tossed into the lake (as an equivalent of celebratory birthday bumps). Unscarred, the nymph bubbled up to the surface asking what it was all about. Kaeya answered evasively, not wanting to admit how cute he looked in his bathing suit.

The trio continued to swim around more peacefully. Mc was able to convince Albedo to sink down to his chin in the clear water, Mc then proceeded to untangle his soggy hair and massaging his scalp to release the tension. Despite himself, Albedo sighed in satisfaction, eyes fluttering shut, as the nymph made him melt in his hands even more.

The cavalry captain was about to exit the water after drifting a little bit. At the sight before him, Kaeya’s heart softened, gravitating towards them, more intoxicated than what a Death after noon at Angel’s share could ever do to him. However, as the scheming man he is, he couldn’t help himself, but to drop two or three icicles along Mc’s spine when he kissed the nymph on the cheek announcing he was going to start fishing. «Oh, is something the matter, love?» Mc’s reaction was immediate, but he stilled the best he could given the circumstances not to drown Albedo in the process. Mc glared at the Captain with wrathful eyes to witch Kaeya’s responded with a wink and a kissy face. The nymph couldn’t stay mad per se, but he took a mental note to retaliate twice as hard when the situation would be opportune. Maybe he could ‘towel’ snap Kaeya’s butt once he used his blanket to dry up.

After a few more minutes, Albedo and Mc returned under the shade of the tree. Albedo settled down to sketch while Mc walked around to gather dead twigs and branches to cook Kaeya’s potential catch for supper.

They ended up eating grilled fish on a stick to their heart's content, while they appreciated the calmness of the forest as they leaned against the large trunk of the mature tree. The sun was setting, painting the skies with pastels hues. After bathing and eating, Mc was getting especially sleepy, but didn’t want to let it show. Kaeya tapped the ground in between his legs, making it clear Mc wasn’t fooling anyone. Mc put his back against Kaeya’s chest and left one hand resting on Albedo’s lap. Kaeya looked down at the nymphs' features as he played with his hair for a bit easing Mc into slumber. The cavalry captain ended up falling asleep too, his head laying on Albedo’s shoulder. Once the alchemist was sure they were fast asleep, he turned to a blank page of his sketchbook and started sketching an approximate portrait of the three of them in the position they were currently in. Of course, he took some artist liberties to self portrait himself and imagine the general position of his lovers he couldn’t see without disturbing them.

When Mc woke up from his nap, the stars were already up. The light snores of Kaeya and the regular scratches emanating from Albedo’s sketchbook were audible to the nymph thanks to the general quietness of his surroundings. Mc squirmed to try to straighten up his position without waking Kaeya. Despite Mc’s effort to let Kaeya nap, the Cavalry captain happens to be a light sleeper and when he felt movement his first reflex was to lock Mc in a tight grip as to protect him from an unseen menace. Kaeya relaxed automatically when he remembered the current context and mumbled something along the lines of «I must have fallen asleep». «Ready to go home?» The alchemist asked. «It’s probably for the better, Kaeya’s bed is more comfy after all.» Mc answered. «Didn’t you fall asleep, Albedo?» «I’m afraid I couldn’t. I haven’t slept properly during the last few nights; when I close my eyes I end up having nightmares like I’ve never had before. Maybe my subconscious is working overtime.» Albedo commented half heartedly.

Mc examined Albedo, but nothing was giving away how tired he felt. «Do you want to talk about it in front of a carrot cake?» «A what?» Kaeya perked up still a little groggy. «A carrot cake, it’s my specialty dish. I baked it just before you came back.» Mc specified.

«I would never miss the pleasure of being invited for dessert by such a lovely person.» Albedo commented.

«What he said.» Kaeya threw in. The trio made its way back to Mondstadt in the most personalized fashion. Kaeya freezed a trail for them to cross Cider Lake. When they reached the base of the cliff, Albedo used his Solar Isotoma as an elevator. Reaching the ground level of the cathedral, the partners made their way nonchalantly towards the Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

«You know Mc, Albedo and I went on vacation to an isolated archipelago located to the east of Mondstadt where the sea side is perfect to relax or collect conches.» Kaeya mentioned.

«I feel like there is more to that story than a simple vacation.» Mc commented.

(1) Tom Hennen, "Looking for the Differences", Darkness Sticks to Everything

(2) Alex Turner

Outro song

Cc. @creatorofstars

[journalofimprobablethings]

A notebook, small, its blue cover decorated with silver swirls that catch the light when it moves. The writing that fills the pages is sparse, only a few sentences in each entry, written in neat capitals: the kind of writing you might see on schematics or blueprints. The letters are pressed deep into the thin paper, the ridges and ghosts of the words tangible on the other side of the page. 

Some of the entries are splotched with tears, and the letters written there are blurred together in little circles. One of the pages has a large ink stain across it, with an arrow pointing to it and a tiny note that reads "sorry."

The notebook has been filled, incrementally, over the course of the year. Now the year is almost up, and the notebook sits, complete, on Magnus's nightstand, waiting to be read.

-

Lucretia,

Barry gave me this notebook to write to you while you're gone. He and Lup have one they keep in their room; it's not the same, but he said sometimes it helps, to write down all the things you wish you could say. He called it a lifeboat, and I'm going to hope it keeps me afloat. A year is such a long time to miss you, Luce. 

Here we go. 

How are you?

This is obviously a question for Future You, reading this, because Present You is

Fuck. I'm so bad at this.

I don't really know what to write here. How do you write so much all the time?

I miss you.

Magnus

-

I started using your lotion on my hands. I hope you don't mind. It's nice, to have a smell that reminds me of you. Also, my hands are the softest they have ever been, so I am going to keep stealing this stuff after you're back, sorry.

-

I saw the wildest bird today. It was huge, with a long neck and tail feathers twice as long as it was tall. It was all blue, except for the tail which had some iridescent purple and green in there. All your favorite colors. I wish I was any good at drawing, so I could show you what it looks like. You would have loved it.

-

Davenport lent me some of his old tapes to listen to when the silence gets to be too much. He’s got interesting taste in music, but you know what, I think I am coming around to sea shanties. There’s something about them that just hits some kind of chord. So many of them are about longing--for a person, for home. I can relate to that.

-

Merle left for Parlay today. It's so dumb, I always think that maybe this time he'll come back. But his smoky self vanished after a few hours, same as always. I promised him before he left that I'd water his plants. I hope I'm not going to regret that.

-

Your pen collection is the most intimidating thing I've ever seen in my life. I just want a simple ballpoint. Is that so much to ask??

-

I may or may not have broken one of your fountain pens. I do not understand how they work. Please don't hate me.

-

Happy birthday, Luce. You're the hottest octogenarian I know (how's that for a Lucretia word?). I can't wait to see your face when you read this part.

I miss you.

-

Taako banned me from the kitchen again. I don't see how it's my fault this time, Barry's the one who wanted smoothies in the first place and I would have thought the lid of the blender would stay on by itself. Blueberry smoothie is a bitch to clean off the ceiling, I'll tell you that.

-

We found the Light. Celia and her crew were a little salty when we said we have to keep it, even after we explained (again) about the whole plane-of-darkness-coming-to-eat-the-world thing. So they're not really talking to us anymore. I don't really miss it, but I think Dav is sad. He loved Celia's tea.

-

Lup and Barry have gone feral without you to remind them to take care of themselves. I don't think they've left the lab in three days. How do you do it? Taako just shrugs and says that nerds will be nerds. Dav had to order them out the other day to eat with the rest of us, and even then they only came out for an hour. At this rate they'll have become one with their lab equipment by the end of the year.

-

Lucretia,

Some days missing you hurts so much I can't breathe. It's been months but it still feels like it just happened yesterday. I still have nightmares about that day.

I'm sorry I didn't save you, Luce. I'm sorry I failed you. I'll make it up to you. I promise.

-

Did you know that if you put sodium in water, it will explode? Apparently this is a well-known science fact. Nobody told me the explosion would be quite so big, though.

-

Today I sat outside with Dav and we drank a bottle of some fancy wine he had stored up and watched the sunset. It was warm and the fireflies started to come out as the light was fading. If you had been there you would have wanted to paint it, it was that beautiful. When you're back we'll have to find a time to steal some wine and do a replay. Maybe Dav can come, too. He's a pretty cool dude.

-

We made it, Luce. Tomorrow is the last day of the cycle. Hope the Hunger doesn't eat us before we regenerate. But for real, I can't wait. I get to see you tomorrow. I get to hold you and kiss you tomorrow. I'm so excited I could cry.

I love you. See you soon.

-

This is an excerpt (with a few minor changes) from my fic 'without you' which you can read in full on Ao3 (link in the source of this post)!

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Helping Hands - Chapter 7

Series Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: More of Haley's past haunts her dreams, and she seeks out Loki for comfort. Then, she finds a way to join the gang on their next mission.

Chapter Warnings: Behavior indicative of past abuse

A/N: The poem is an excerpt from ‘He Giveth His Beloved Sleep' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

”Tell us what happened, sweetheart.”

It was hard to focus. Her ankle hurt worse than it ever had before. Worse than the time she fell in the parking lot and scraped her hands. It was black and blue and swollen and her parents told her not to move it. As if she could without screaming. Swallowing down the tears that stuck in her throat, she wiped her face and gripped her fists around the tissues the doctor had given her. “Cassidy fell. She was screaming. I touched her and she stopped crying. I just wanted her to feel better. Now my ankle hurts.”

She couldn’t make out the blurry faces of her mother and father standing next to the paper-lined exam table she sat on, but looking at them made her feel safe. Her mother reached out and smoothed her hand down the back of her head. It was warm and gentle and she leaned into it with her eyes closed.

“Nobody saw it. We don’t know what happened.”

“We’ll take her back and set it, wrap it, the whole nine. In the meantime, you should call this number if anything strange happens again.”

Haley’s eyes blinked open, slowly piecing together the shadowy shapes in her dark room as the remnants of her dream lingered at the edges of her mind. Had that been a memory, or was it just a nonsensical imagining? She sat up slowly in the plush bed, untangling her legs from the sheets to pull her knees to her chest as she let her eyes get used to what little cool blue light streamed in through the windows. Anxiety weighed heavy in her chest and she knew that rest wasn’t going to come so easily to her with the questions that nagged at her sleep-addled mind.

Had those really been her parents? The voices were vaguely familiar, an itch she couldn’t scratch, and that touch had soothed an ache deep in her soul that had lingered for as long as she’d lived. If only she could remember their faces… And where were they now? Why was she just now getting these dreams?

As quietly as she could manage, she got out of bed and pulled on her black hoodie over her tank top and sleep shorts. Loki had always gotten her a warm drink when she couldn’t sleep; maybe he’d still be awake to do it again. The chilly floor bit at her bare feet as she padded out of her room to head to the kitchen. It was dark and silent as a tomb, the only light coming from the dormant appliance clocks that read 1:48 AM. For once, Loki wasn’t up watching television or reading or making a late-night sugary snack.

She stood in the middle of the open kitchen, shifting back and forth, rubbing the inside of the sleeves of her hoodie in her palms. The thought of returning to her room empty-handed did cross Haley’s mind. It did. But she didn’t want to face the questions alone, and Loki’s calming presence would be so welcome. He had a way of quieting her racing mind that she so desperately wanted in that moment. Chewing lightly on her full bottom lip, she shuffled to his bedroom door, hesitating with her hand pressed against the cool metal. Waking him seemed selfish and cruel if he was truly asleep. She groaned under her breath in frustration and leaned her forehead against the doorframe. But he was always so patient and kind with her. Just the thought of his soothing voice easing her doubts had her heart slowing in her chest.

Just do it. She knocked quietly on the door, deciding that if he was awake he would hear it and answer, and if he wasn’t, then she would snag a bar of chocolate and return to her room. There was always some sort of mindless program on television to chase away the shadows. When she couldn’t hear any shifting or rustling on the other side, she assumed he was asleep, and she turned and began heading back to the kitchen.

“Little one?”

The warm glow of light from his open door sent her long shadow stretching across the hallway. She looked back to find him leaning against the doorframe, his pale torso a stark contrast to the dark wall and the tumble of his midnight-black hair over his shoulders. Her eyes drank in the sight of his lithe torso laid bare and all the moisture left her mouth. She dug her fingernails into her jacket for some semblance of control over the rush of heat pooling deep in her belly.

Concern tightened his dark green eyes. “Are you alright?”

Why did she suddenly feel so flustered? Her arms crossed over her stomach and she stared down at his bare feet. It was strangely endearing to see him so casually dressed, or undressed, really, in just a pair of black silk boxer shorts. “I had a weird dream… I didn’t know who else to talk to about it. I just don’t want to be alone.”

The beam of light widened as he stepped away from the doorway. She looked up to see him holding his hand out to her further inside his room. “I’m honored that you came to me. Would you like to come in?”

The soft yellow light from his bedside lamp illuminated the softest looking green duvet she had ever seen in her life on his bed, mussed from where he had obviously been lying in it before she interrupted. The walls were hidden by rows upon rows of bookshelves full to the brim with books of various thicknesses and languages. There were so many that they spilled onto his nightstand and the small coffee table in front of a long, black leather couch. It was very masculine, and very Loki, with touches of green and gold amongst the black to keep it from looking too monochromatic.

But the most important part was the man who laced their fingers together. The door closed automatically behind her with a soft whoosh that made the heat radiating off of his body, subtly spiced with his cologne, all the more intoxicating and intimate as he drew her close to him. His free hand adjusted the dropped shoulder of her hoodie back where it belonged before resting on her upper arm with a gentle squeeze.

“Would you prefer the couch or the bed? We can discuss it, if you’d like, or we can simply sit together. I was reading Midgardian poetry when you knocked. I could read it to you?”

Her heart thudded against her ribcage at the tenderness in his eyes. To be honest, she didn’t want to actually talk about what she’d dreamt about. It was a distant thought at that point, shoved to the furthest reaches of her mind at the rasp of Loki’s calloused thumb over the back of her hand. Quieting her unexplainable nerves, she tilted her head toward the bed. “Maybe the bed? Just for a little bit. I don’t want to keep you, but I don’t want to be alone. I could read over your shoulder.”

“We can do much better than that,” he countered quietly, releasing her hand to turn the lamp off with a lazy wave of his hand. He pulled a match from a drawer on his nightstand and lit a candle that had clearly seen some use from previously burnt wicks. Vanilla and cedarwood filled the room at the flickering flames that lent warmth to Loki’s creamy, unblemished skin.

At the sight of her wide eyes and quickened breathing, he pulled the blankets back for her to climb into the bed. “You are safe with me. I promise.”

She wasn’t afraid, no, not of him. Never of him. But the stirring of need deep inside of her was confusing and altogether new, even though she knew the basis of it. He was beautiful, a living and breathing work of the most discerning sculptors, even when skin that she had thought to be silky smooth turned out to be marred with small scars. She leaned against his side beneath the curl of his arm around her back, allowing her fingertips to trace the ridged flesh scattered across his body. His breath hitched at the featherlight map they plotted over his ribcage. That tiny catch, that delicious half sound, had her pouted lips parting with the intense need to taste that puckered flesh.

He cleared his throat and shifted beneath her, crossing his legs underneath the sheets and rubbing her back lightly. The full force of her desire shamed her, Loki was her friend, and she hid the flush of her cheeks by tucking her head underneath his chin. The only way to stop the itch in her fingers to continue their exploration across the planes and valleys of his torso was to wrap her arms around him and press her hands into the cut of muscles on his side. He was so wiry, steel bands beneath supple skin, but he was somehow still immensely comfortable. It was easy to snuggle into him and smother the flames licking at her belly by focusing on the steady beat of his heart against her cheek.

It was safe, in Loki’s embrace. The anxieties that had littered her thoughts dropped away one by one with each deep breath he took to push his chest against her. And despite the peculiar twist of her stomach at his contented sigh, she managed to tilt her head up to leave a soft kiss on his jaw before settling back down. “I don’t wanna talk about it. What’d you have in mind?”

“Ideas which are altogether not appropriate,” he muttered under his breath. The rapid drum of his heart beneath her matched her own. She forced herself to take deep breaths that fanned out across his chest to leave goosebumps in their wake. He adjusted the blankets around them before propping open the book across his stretched legs in front of him. “Listen to my words, little one, and allow yourself to relax. I’ve got you now.”

His cheek rested on the top of her head so that the intimately given words were felt just as much as they were heard.

““Sleep soft, beloved!” we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But not never doleful dream again Shall break his happy slumber when “He giveth his beloved, sleep.””

The decadence of his murmured baritone was enough to loosen her limbs and leave her head heavy upon his chest. She tried to stay awake to listen to it for just a moment longer, just one moment, but the tentative caress of the backs of his fingers down her cheek and the light press of his lips to her forehead were enough to have her drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Blaring alarms and flashing lights violently woke her. She sat up in an unfamiliar bed, disoriented at the scent of cinnamon and mint that clung to the soft sheets surrounding her. But the events of the night before came back to her in a rush as she stumbled to her feet. Blankets were haphazardly scattered on the leather couch across from her, and her nighttime companion was nowhere to be found.

“Friday, what’s going on?” she shouted over the blaring noise, rubbing the sleep from her bleary eyes.

“The Avengers have been called for an emergency mission. They’re loading onto the Quinjet now.”

There wasn’t time to think. Haley zipped up her hoodie as she ran in the direction of the elevators, hoping that she wasn’t too late. Wanda was just running up the ramp when she peered around the corner. Gritting her teeth, she ran as fast as she could, scampering inside and then throwing herself behind a stack of boxes wrapped with protective netting. She curled into as tight of a ball as she could manage, stifling her heavy breathing against the skin her knees as she stared at the textured metal wall across from her. The jet beneath her shook slightly as it lifted off from the ground, and then her ears popped painfully as they took off from the top of Stark Tower.

“We've been tracking this douchebag for ages. Smuggling, theft, trafficking, you name it, he’s done it. The feds don't want his blood on their hands and I'm more than happy-”

“If I may interrupt, Stark, I believe that we are not alone,” Loki’s agitated voice interrupted Tony’s speech.

Tony’s heavy sigh was somehow deafening over the roar of the engines beneath her. “Damnit, kid. The jig is up. Come on out.”

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. Haley slowly stood up from her hiding spot with knocking knees and her hands held entreatingly in front of her. “Please don’t be mad. Please. I’m sorry. I can help! I didn’t want to stay behind while you all-”

Tony stepped out from the middle of the huddled Avengers. He was a fearsome sight in his Iron Man suit, brown eyes hard and jaw set in a way that made her feel so terribly small. “This isn’t safe for you. You shouldn’t have come. What if something happened to you, hmm?”

Steve came out from the front of the jet. The set of his jaw was no less fierce, but at least there was understanding in his eyes as they settled on Tony. “She just wanted to help. She can stay here on the jet.”

“There isn’t time to turn back,” Natasha chimed in from where she leaned back against the wall. Her black leather catsuit practically blended into the matte metal behind her, only making her blonde hair and fair skin that much more entrancing. “That intel is time sensitive. He’s on the move. Either we all take her back or she stays.”

Tears filled Haley’s eyes and she cowered back as far as she could go. Tony stopped his approach and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sniff. She squinted her eyes shut and bowed her head. “I won’t leave the jet, I promise. Please don’t leave me. Please, please,” she cried, her voice thick with sobs that she barely contained. She didn’t even know what she was begging for or against at that point, only that she wanted the fear gripping her lungs to ease.

“Can’t you just zap her back there, Reindeer Games?” Tony asked, the anger gone from his voice, disappointment remaining to cut deep in a wound that even she couldn't rapidly heal.

Rough hands from years of blade work gently wiped the hot tears from her face. She leaned into the large palm that cupped her cheek and opened her eyes to find the intricate patterns of Loki’s protective leathers completely blocking her vision. He pulled her flush against him so she was acutely aware of the tension vibrating in his lean frame.

“I will not leave her in this state. I can take her back, but I will not return to assist in this mission.”

“That’s just great, man. We need you on this,” Tony huffed his frustration, and Haley could hear the frown in his voice that matched the sound of his metallic hands hitting his sides.

“She will remain on this vessel, and I will ensure her safety,” Loki offered, smoothing his fingers over the curls at the nape of her neck in what would be a soothing gesture in any other circumstance. “Once we are back at the tower, we will further discuss her role in your band of misfits. Is this agreeable?”

Muttering that she couldn’t make out went on for several of Loki’s deep breaths. Her fingers dug into the thick cape flowing down his back. Just when she was about to pry herself away so she could at least see their deliberating, the talking stopped. And so did her heart.

“You stay on the jet,” Tony commanded, leaving no room for argument with his harsh tone. “You do what we say. And if anyone gets hurt, you do not touch them. Do you understand me?”

Summoning all of her courage, she lifted her face from the sanctuary of Loki’s chest to meet Tony’s stony gaze. “I understand.”

~

Helping Hands taglist: @kneel-before-queen-loki @alexakeyloveloki @from-hel-i-with-love @cleocc @cateyes315 @coldbookworm @rjohnson1280 @bambi-butt @skiddleskaddle @lokis-high-priestess @myraiswack @ilovetardis @midgardian-mistress @lisaspageofstuff @kathrynwynterbourne @bluestaratsunrise

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme @hellethil @myraiswack

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @peterman-spideyparker @lovesmesomehiddles @wegingerangelica​ @bluefrenchfries604​ @catsladen @snoopy3000​ @silverswordthekilljoy​ @villainousshakespeare​ @kitkatd7​

[cinna-wanroll]

Chapter 2 Excerpt

4 hours after mission start, 1 datalog entry input

Excerpt: Everything is well here, no hiccups yet. The ship is running as it should, and the only thing out of place is Qui-Gon, really. He keeps complaining about bumping into things. Oh, and the ship doesn’t have a caff maker, which is unimportant but relatively inconvenient. Regardless, there isn’t much to discuss, which I suppose is good. Boring, but I don’t suppose you’re looking to be entertained. I might go check for a pack of cards, I’ll tell you if I’ve found them when I return. 

The ride to the Mandalore system was smooth and mostly silent- save for a faint rattle that came from the back of the ship every so often. 

After about an hour and a half or so of Obi-Wan staring out into the abyss, Qui-Gon came back into the room and suggested Obi-Wan meditate. It was a good idea just because he was bored anyways, but there was an uneasiness that had been pricking at him since their departure from the Temple. Like his world was about to be shaken up and flipped upside down. 

He reasoned that it could just be his lack of sleep, or Quinlan sending ominous feelings through the Force simply to mess with him, or even just negative past experiences- but there was only one way to find out. 

He obliged and smiled politely, agreeing that meditation would most likely do him some good. 

So would some rest, he thought, even while knowing the prospect was pointless then. All the thrills and anxieties of a new assignment were sending sparks through his body, no matter how sluggish his mind felt.

Which is why meditation might be an even greater help than Obi-Wan had first thought.

He left the front of the ship for his quarters, dragging along his belongings and entering the cozy space. 

He smiled faintly as he entered, the cool air soothing his troubled spirit a bit as he dropped his belongings in place and walked to the bed area. Usually, there was a lot less space for beds in ships, with only a bunk and maybe a nightstand if you were lucky. This room lacked the stand, but made up for it in a normal, twin-sized bed. 

Obi-Wan sat comfortably atop his mattress, focusing on the low rhythm and hum of the ship as his mind drifted slowly, becoming one with the Force. 

The first thing to reach him was his master’s steady breathing in the back of the ship, searching for a new cloak among his items. The second was the faintest traces of triumphant feelings on a nearby planet- no doubt long since past. The longer he remained suspended within the unity, the more he became centered in all things- aware of his place in the grand scheme of everything, aware of his purpose. 

The Force guided him to his sought destination long before he arrived there in his physical form- a barren world with devastated land and a people in search of healing and leadership. 

Obi-Wan breathed in slowly, trying his best to hone in on his charge. 

There she was in the midst of the throng of beings. Her spirit stood out like a steady, determined blaze- a fire burning with new purpose. He felt her mind, calculated and intelligent, and her heart, kind and lost. 

He bit his lip. There was something else that he couldn’t quite place at first; the willingness to prove herself. 

Obi-Wan winced. All of the traits he’d observed so far could make her a terribly formidable opponent, but a flawed one at that. It was all too easy to manipulate a good heart and a pleading, orphaned being. 

He knew that better than most. 

Not to mention everything he’d heard about her being prideful and stubborn. 

With reluctance, he realized that keeping her out of trouble would be a harder task than it would’ve originally been, and he found himself growing more frustrated by the second. 

It would be so much easier if she would just trust and stay out of the way- but the more he learned of her, the less likely that seemed. 

Frowning, he hoped to the stars he wouldn’t have to deal with another arrogant ruler. She might be uncertain on the inside, but he found that many insecure people would mow you down before they showed it. Unfortunately, their defenses hardly ever masked anything that well and Obi-Wan was left picking up their messes for them.  

Resurfacing from the clarity of the Force and into reality was a dull experience, but he was getting too bitter over something that hadn’t even begun yet. 

Qui-Gon entered the room, evidently having found his other robe. This one was more structured and tightly threaded, a bit rougher than his softer, less practical one. That meant one thing; sand. Obi-Wan groaned internally.

His master offered him a similar one, but a smaller version as the rougher fabric rubbed against Obi-Wan’s palms. 

“Something’s troubling you,” Qui-Gon observed, eyes narrowing at his apprentice. He didn’t pry, but Obi-Wan could tell this was one of the rare moments he would be able to confide in his master.

Obi-Wan sighed and dismissed the tension between his shoulders, meeting his master’s gaze. He was reluctant and embarrassed to admit his anxieties and prejudices, but he closed his eyes briefly and told himself to let go. After all, it was more important that Qui-Gon help Obi-Wan rid himself of clouded judgment than it was for Obi-Wan to bury his feelings. 

“Yes. It’s about the duchess- I’m quite worried she won’t be easy to protect.”

Qui-Gon saw right through him, “to cooperate with, you mean.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and nodded guiltily, “It’s not just because she’s Mandalorian, master. I’m afraid her headstrong attitude along with her status may make her… vulnerable.”

Qui-Gon cracked an amused smile, “Goodness Obi-Wan, you haven’t even met the poor woman yet.”

“I know, and yet for some reason- it feels as if I have.”

The older man closed his eyes, contemplating. 

“To be quite honest Obi-Wan, I think she’s a lot like you. At least from what I’ve heard. But it isn’t fair of me to judge someone I’ve not even met in person yet. After all, stories and point of view can be misleading.”

Obi-Wan considered his master’s words, but countered, “I don’t have anything to prove.”

That earned a raised eyebrow, “Oh, but don’t you? Isn’t that what drives you, Obi-Wan? Your quest to prove yourself as a Jedi before not only the order, but the council. Or to me? Especially after the corps.” 

Obi-Wan felt his chest tighten at the mention of his past; they hardly ever spoke of it.

He lowered his gaze, “If it is, that was never my intent. I simply enjoy the life I have- and I want to be the best I can be for the people of the galaxy.” 

His master’s eyes caught a glow and he smiled gently, sitting beside Obi-Wan and resting a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “But padawan, don’t you think that’s precisely what the duchess wants for her people?”

Obi-Wan blinked, “Yes, but that also makes her a good target.”

“You’re just too stubborn to admit that I was right about you and her being similar.”

Obi-Wan huffed grumpily and turned his attention to the stars beyond, out his window, although he couldn’t hide the small grin that crept onto his face.

Qui-Gon shifted his tone. 

“What you’re saying is valid, Obi-Wan, but we cannot allow ourselves to make judgements before we’ve met someone. After all, many people have similar traits- but it’s how they use those traits that makes them who they are.”

Obi-Wan nodded, absorbing the weight of the lesson. 

“Yes, master.” 

“You know padawan, you worry too much.”

Obi-Wan smiled and turned back to Qui-Gon, “Luminara and Vos are quite fond of telling me the same thing, especially when Vos is about to do something ill-advised.”

Jinn snorted, “Well, hooligan or not, that boy and Luminara are right.”

Ha! ‘That boy’ and Luminara. Obi-Wan would definitely have to tell them about that one upon his return. 

He shrugged, “I never did say they weren’t.”

“Don’t sass me padawan, it’s your own fault for being such a worry wart.”

Obi-Wan threw his master a mock-insulted glance, holding up the datapad from earlier.

“Let’s not forget who’s being trusted with the information here.”

“I assigned you that job, I can take it away just as quickly.”

“Ah, but then you’d have to explain to the council why your reports were once again inadequate.” 

His master pulled a face, “It’s not the reports themselves the council are unhappy with- it’s my organization.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. 

“I always… tend to leave out, er- key events. And include too many opinions- no, they said a few of those are fine- strongly worded opinions were what weren’t needed.”

Obi-Wan laughed, “Oh, I will absolutely have to read one of those for myself someday soon.” 

“Perish the thought.”

They shared a momentary grin, before Qui-Gon retreated back to his own room in the ship, under the premise of making sure everything was in order. Although Obi-Wan was almost certain Jinn was just looking for an excuse to take a nap. 

He couldn’t really blame the man, Obi-Wan himself still felt very sluggish, but he still couldn’t rest with the continued uncertainty of everything looming over him. 

For now, he channeled all of his energy into his report- detailing everything from his new robe to the ship’s condition, making sure the council would be clear that everything was proceeding smoothly. And he may have also put in a request for past documents for-er, reference. 

So far, so good, he assured himself when he set the device down. 

All he could do was hope the trend would continue. 

╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮

Satine knew that she had to remain healthy in order to reinforce not only her own stability, but her people’s as well.

That was so weird to think- her people. 

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

A Book of Thoughts

Summary: Reader finds Arthur’s journal and gets curious.

The sun shone brightly through the blinds of your bedroom window, dust spiraling through the beams of light that had been stirred up. You were in the beginning of tidying up your room, tossing clothes into the laundry basket before moving over to the bed.

You’d woken up not too long ago, making a plan to clean the house after breakfast before heading out for a nice lunch afterwards. Arthur was in the shower, and though it was tempting to join, the slight mess in your room prompted you otherwise.

Grabbing the comforter, you flicked it. The fabric awkwardly flourished as something heavy hit the floor. You blinked and looked down, recognizing the worn leather binding of Arthur’s journal. It’d fallen open on a random page.

Without a second glance, you grabbed it. Normally Arthur would have put it in his nightstand. You wondered if he was writing in it before breakfast. You glanced at the open page, noting a rough sketch of a woodland creature along with some writing.

Closing it, you turned to place it onto the nightstand. Though in the back of your mind your curiosity piqued, wondering what else was contained in this pages. Some of his entries weren’t a secret to you, as you’ve read some of them in game prior to his arrival.

Yet, you wondered how he would react if he found you invading his privacy, or if he cared at all. He wasn’t shy about keeping it a secret, yet he never offered to let you read either.

Glancing at the bathroom door from your spot, you wondered how much time you’d had. Arthur had only gotten in a few minutes ago, and he never took too long.

Taking a deep breath, you finally sat down and opened the journal, letting it sit on your lap. The pages smelled faintly musty, with a hint of pine and tobacco. Like him.

You recognized the page immediately, a drawing of Blackwater. You flipped through the pages gingerly, your eyes glossing over familiar entries and sketches. You marveled at how well he was able to draw, his handwriting so gorgeous when yours could be chicken scratch in comparison.

A full page had caught your attention when your name jumped out at you.

I don’t know what happened to me. Don’t know where I am or how I got here. Must’ve blacked out somehow. Last thing I remember was being in Saint Denis, and now I’m in this strange house.

Ah, that day.

I was trying to find my way out when a woman came out from one of the rooms. She seemed as confused as I was. Told me I was in a place I ain’t even heard of before. She even told me the year, 2019. I thought I had to be dreaming.

You couldn’t help but to giggle to yourself, remembering how exactly Arthur had reacted back then. You turned to read another entry.

Been a few days since arriving in this strange future. Can’t made head nor tail of it. I miss my family, but I don’t know how to get back. Y/N has been kind enough to let me stay at her house, and her cat has taken a liking to me. She’s been showing me how her contraptions work. The telly-vision is my favorite, who knew you could record performances and watch them whenever you wanted?

On the page following was a drawing of Artemis, curled up contently. You turned the page again.

Guess I’m starting to adjust to this place now. No telling when or how I’ll get back to my time, but Y/N’s hospitality is endless. Can’t say I mind staying here for the time being. No worries about Pinkertons or the O’Driscolls lurking around every corner. Food is readily available, and a personal bathroom too.

You flipped through a couple of more pages, which were just sketches. A view of your car from the living room. Your backyard. Random electronics from around your home. You paused when you came across one of yourself, relaxing on the couch and gazing out your patio doors. You never realized he’d drawn you then.

With another excerpt found, you began to read again.

Y/N’s patience with me is confusing. I don’t know how she isn’t tired of me by now, but she insists that I’m not a bother at all. She’s gone most of the day, off to do her job. She trusts me alone here, even though she asked me not to go outside. Not sure what would happen if I do anyway, she’s worried I might cause trouble. What could I possibly do in this future world? I keep myself busy, but I’m starting to get bored…

The next one had really caught your attention.

Something happened, something I never expected to experience again. I laid with her yesterday. Wasn’t expecting it honestly. I’ve always avoided sharing myself with another woman in such a way after Eliza. Y/N is a different woman entirely, beautiful in every way.

Your cheeks burned with a blush that crept up your face.

Didn’t think I would think of her that way, not until she kissed me. Everything about her…was wonderful. It is wonderful. She took me without hesitation. Made me feel in a way I’d never felt before.

We’re sweet on each other now, sleeping in the same bed and all. I never did imagine myself as the type to settle down, guess that’s why no one else wanted to have me, not even Mary. Though I can’t live like I did, running out robbing folk, so I have no choice. If I ever do go back to my life, I would sure miss Y/N.

You continued through, glancing quickly at some more entries. The first time you took him out, his first club experience, and of course, the day he found out the truth about himself. It carried through to his diagnosis, and the process of him taking his medications. You were thankful the sickness had long since cleared up by now, but you couldn’t say the same for his virtual counterpart. Neither of you had touched the game in a while now.

You were beginning to lose track of time, reading through everything. There were a few more drawings of you, ones that you were both aware and not aware he was drawing. He certainly was sneaky about his artwork, not that you minded. Another entry had piqued your interest.

I think I’ve fallen completely for her. That woman has been nothing but kind and loving toward me. All those times we’ve laid together, every time she kisses me, holds me, smiles at me when she wakes up every morning. I keep thinking she’ll change her mind, that she don’t want an old, ugly man like me. But she says otherwise. Her words make me feel good, though I still can’t say why she wants to be with me. Either way, I think I love her…

Your heart fluttered.

Y/N was worried she was with child, even though she once told me she was on sort of birthing control. She took a strange test, turns out she wasn’t pregnant at all. I know it’s a different time now, but I got lost in my memories of Eliza and Isaac. I told her about them, my worries and all. She was more understanding than I thought she would be. She also told me she wouldn’t mind having a child with me…she told me why, still can’t believe it…I told her I loved her after it all. And she feels the same way.

The reminiscence of that day nearly choked you up. The raw emotion exchanged between him and you was powerful, electrifying. Sometimes you had to wonder if you had been pregnant, what would have changed? Taking a deep breath, you turned to another page.

It’s been a while since I got here, and I think I’ve made a life here. I ain’t fully adjusted to everything, but I got a handle on most things now. I even got a job, one that reminds me of my old life. I’ll always miss my old life, and I think it’s certain that I won’t return at this point. But if it meant waking up next to Y/N for the rest of my life, so be it. It’s the first time in a long time that I feel truly happy. Maybe one day, we’ll take things further.

Your finger toyed with the edge of the next page, ready to turn when you heard the bathroom door open. Your heart leapt to your throat as you hurriedly shut the journal, quickly placing it on the nightstand just as Arthur stepped into the bedroom.

Hair dripping and him donned in only a towel, he looked at you and smiled. It didn’t seem like he knew what you were doing, though you gave him a smile in return and tried not to look guilty.

“Hey you.” you greeted him.

“Hey sweetheart,” he turned to grab some fresh clothes from the dresser. The towel dropped from around his waist, granting you a sight you’d never tire of. “Still cleanin’?”

You’d almost forgotten, your head still swimming with what you’d just read. Arthur was such a poet in his own way, a sweet and soft man hidden behind a tough exterior. You stood up and closed the space between you both, wrapping your arms around his thick torso. He paused in surprise, turning to face you. “Y/N, you okay sweetheart?”

His skin was warm and damp against you, cheek pressed against his chest. You peered up at him with a warm smile. “Nothing, Arthur. I just love you so much.”

His gaze softened, raising his hand to smooth your hair momentarily before gently taking your chin. He pulled you in for a tender kiss, which you met halfway. “I love you too.” He murmured against your lips.

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

Lost Time: Chapter 1

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: T

Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumors of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies.

A/N: It’s finally here! And I even got it up before the end of the year like I said I would. Enjoy!

I’m trying out a slightly different writing style this time around, so please let me know what you think!

Read on AO3

-----

Preview:

"It is said that all the Greats are connected. Some even believe they are one soul inhabiting nine bodies that is reincarnated every generation. I, however, in studying the history of the most closely connected Greats, those that control Aether and Time, believe that they are not one soul. Rather, they are inimitable individuals who are highly bonded to one another through the magics that unite us all. However, there is evidence to suggest that the Greats possess the ability to communicate with the Greats of the past."  Excerpt from A History of the Horae Greats, Introduction by Petra Abell

Last night I dreamt I was a king again. At least, I assume I was a king. I suppose I could have been an emperor or a lord or something, but I'm going to go with king for now.

As always, the dream starts like any other dream, a bunch of nonsensical scenes that somehow make sense while you're asleep, but when you wake up, you realize how crazy it all was. This time, I only got to enjoy a few bites of delicious marshmallow pizza with Babe Ruth before I was pulled away into the throne room.

The room looks the same as it always does. I sit up high on a marble throne painted green. There are nine other thrones spread out on either side of me all painted different colours. On the floor beneath me, an intricately carved flower is engraved into the tile.

I have no idea what kind of flower it's supposed to be. A lotus, maybe? I don't pay enough attention in biology class to know all my plants. And it's not like knowing that kind of stuff is going to help me out in life anyway. Sam would disagree and argue that everything we learn in school is important, why else would they teach it to us?

I am not alone in the throne room, and unfortunately, it's not Babe Ruth with the rest of our pizza. Instead, I gaze forward and see a long line of people each holding a random object. One man is holding a golden trophy. A woman farther down the line is leaning on a grandfather clock. The first person in line is holding an hourglass, the sand slowing slipping into the bottom. That's the only thing that changes with these dreams. The hourglass seems fuller and fuller every night. For a time traveller, that might be a bad omen. For the future Warp Wizard, it's definitely a bad omen.

One by one, the people in line vanish into nothing starting at the back of the line. They all fade until it's just me and the hourglass holder. I open my mouth to ask them all of my questions, but no sound comes out.

Sometimes, we stare at each other for what feels like hours. Other times, only a few minutes. But the dream always ends the same way.

The room darkens, shrinking down on us. The darkness creeps closer and closer until it's suffocating me, and I wake with a scream.

---

My body lurches up, my hand flying to my chest to make sure my heart is still inside. I take several steadying breaths as I glance around my room. Everything is exactly the way I left it the night before. Clothes in a messy pile by the door, backpack flung under my desk, and The Book sits on my nightstand, unopened.

Sighing in relief, I fall back onto my pillow. How many people wake up each day and are glad to stop dreaming?

I blindly fumble around for my phone and eventually find it on the floor. Before I even turn the screen on, I know exactly what time it is: eight thirty-six. If I really concentrate I can feel the seconds tick by. My phone screen blares to life and confirms what I already know.

After a whole year of being "magically awakened", all I have to show for it is always knowing the time and having disturbingly bright green eyes that practically glow in the dark.

My eyes wander back to The Book, landing on two small slips of paper sticking out of the top. Without thinking about it, I pull them out and read the words that I've seen a hundred times before.

Dear Joe,

Sorry to leave in mid-warp. I had some urgent business to attend to.

~ Uncle Joe

P.S. Congratulations on graduating to the next level! You are now a time page.

The edges of the letter are worn thin and torn. The pocket watch that came with my promotion rests next to The Book. Uncle Joe's been missing for over a year, and despite my best efforts, I can't find any clues as to where he is. It's becoming harder to believe he's okay and still alive.

I grind my teeth together. I know he's alive. My uncle is too clever and good at magic to be dead. He's just busy on some magic mission or something. Maybe even fighting off my other uncle, Mad Jack, who's also been MIA the past year.

I unfold the other piece of paper I keep stored in The Book. The gold script on the invitation is just as dazzling as it was when I first opened it last summer. I don't look at this one as often, other than a few random attempts to warp back to Horae Manor, it pretty much stays in my book.

Dear Mr. Joseph Arthur,

We would like to formally invite you and your closest friends to Horae Manor. A place for the magically inclined and gifted. Where people like you can learn to hone your craft.

We request that you join us at your earliest convenience. Time is of the essence.

Sincerely, 

WW

Now that normal school is officially done for the year, I'm going back to Horae Manor soon. Soon as in today, and I have no idea how I'm supposed to get there. Hopefully, the letter will do its thing again, and Fred, Sam, and I will just be warped there. But something told me that wasn't going to work this time. Rowena and Cassius probably expected me to warp myself there, maybe like some kind of test? To see if I'd been practising my time magic while I was away or reading any of the books Cassius lent me.

Had I been practising my magic? Yes, not that I'd had any real progress. Had I read any of the books Cas told me to? Yes. Well… not exactly. To be fair, I did skim through them, but there was a lot to read and take in. My normal school teachers wouldn't really understand if I skipped out on their assigned homework to do magic homework instead. Not that I could ask them to find out. I really hope my summer at Horae doesn't start with a pop quiz.

Maybe I could do a little last-minute cramming before it was time to go. I have a lot to learn if I want to catch up with Tessa.

The thought of my Aether partner makes me frown. She had gotten to Horae first because my letter had been sent to the wrong person. She also seemed to be just naturally gifted with magic. She could already tear herself pretty much anywhere she wanted and could manipulate space to create mazes to confuse and trap people. People like me.

I think back on everything that had happened last summer. Had I overreacted with Tessa? Maybe a little, but she had proven herself to be untrustworthy and selfish. We went from friends to enemies pretty quickly after that. Part of me wishes I could change out partners. I really don't want to be stuck with Tessa for the rest of my life. 

I collapse back on my bed with a heavy sigh. This summer hasn't even started yet, and I'm already done with it.

---

Time passes by quicker than I want it to. Maybe Cas can show me how to change that. Before I know it, it's after four in the afternoon and Fred and Sam are knocking on my door. Like always, Fred saunters into the room without waiting for a reply.

I shut the book that I've been staring at all day, the words still swimming before my eyes. I'd barely made a dent in it. Cas had given me five thick books packed with magical knowledge. There was a whole other world out there filled with magic users, literally. It was called Mancika. And there are more kinds of magic than just space and time. There are ten in total. Or was it nine? All the details were blurred together in my mind. I somehow had even more questions than I did before I started learning about magic and reading about its history.

I slipped the book into my backpack along with all the others I didn't read. My Warp Wizard mentor will not be happy with me.

I turn around to greet my friends, but Fred beats me to it. "Hey, dude. How excited are you right now? I am so ready to get back to Horae Manor. Man, I bet Cassius and Rowena have some amazing magic kung-fu skills they're going to show us this year. I mean, you guys saw how well Arwen fought off that drake last summer. I can't wait to kick some magic monster butt."

I shake my head at him. "You just can't stand that a Red Sox fan is stronger and cooler than you."

His cheeks flush. "She is not!"

"Sure."

Fred crashes on to my bed, mumbling something to himself that I can't fully hear. But I'm sure it's something about how much the Red Sox suck, and why anyone would be a fan of them over the Yankees is insane.

I nod to Sam, who smiles at me in greeting. "I'm actually pretty excited to head back too. Did you know Horae Manor has a library? I can't wait to learn about all the science of magic and history of it all."

"The science of magic?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "I don't think there is any science. It's magic. Kinda the opposite."

"Of course there's science. Nothing can break the rules of physics. Not even magic."

I roll my eyes, deciding not to argue. With Sam, you can't really convince him that he's wrong.

I grab the letter off my desk, hoping for something to happen. Of course, nothing does. Time to face the other problem I've been avoiding: how to get back to Horae Manor.

"You don't know how to get us there, do you?" Sam asks, guessing my thoughts.

I blush. "I totally do. I just need a second to, uh, figure out how to do it."

"We're never going to get back there, are we?" Fred turns to Sam, who nods in response.

"Hey! I can do this. I am the future Warp Wizard after all. Just give me a moment."

"And what I great Warp Wizard you'll be," Sam sighs.

"Oh, I don't know, I think with a little training Joe could be a great Warp Wiz. Of course, with me by his side, we'd be a swell pair," a new voice says.

We all jump. I slam my knee against the bottom of my desk, hissing in pain, and gingerly try to massage it away. My eyes narrow at the intruder. A mix of emotions fight it out in my chest. Anger ultimately wins out.

Tessa giggles from where she's perched on my window. "Missed you too, bunny."

"How did you get here?" Fred asks.

"The same way I get around everywhere. Magic. Duh." She flips her auburn hair over her shoulder and slides into my room. Her eyes roam around, inspecting everything, and land on my Houdini poster. "Cute," is all she says. Whatever, it's not like I care what she thinks. 

"Thanks," I say dryly. "Why are you here?"

She spreads her arms out wide, ever the showwoman. Her signature red leather jacket is like a cape on her. "Isn't it obvious? I'm your ride to Horae Manor. Seeing as you and Cas haven't started any real training yet, you can't exactly warp yourself there."

I press my lips together and decide to keep quiet. This summer, I'm going to start my magic training, and by the end of it, I'll be just as good as her. No, better than her. I had so many questions for Cas, and I'll finally be practising magic. Real magic. Tricks that I can use to find Uncle Joe.

"So, are you ready to go? Cas is kind of a bluenose when it comes to being on time. As if he can't just make more of it." Tessa rolls her eyes.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and stand up. "Yeah, I guess." truthfully, I'm just as excited as Fred and Sam are to return, but I'm not planning on letting my guard down around Tessa. I square my shoulders and stare at my Aether partner. We're supposed to be partners for life, but neither of us signed up for this. We can be civil with each other, but until I know I can trust her, I have no desire to be her friend.

She stares back, frowning. I almost feel bad for her. Almost. "Are you going to be like this all summer?" she asks, guessing my thoughts. "You know we're stuck with this for the rest of our lives, right?" She gestures between the two of us, referring to our Great Wizard commitment. "And I did apologize."

Fred wraps his arm around my shoulders, pushing me over with his sudden weight. "Joe will be fine. He's just a little butt-hurt over everything that happened last time. He'll get over it."

I shove his arm off of me. "We should get going. It's already four thirty-six."

"What? No exact second this time?" Sam teases me, drawing attention to my weird ability.

I look down at the ground and can feel my face heat up. So far, none of my new abilities had proven useful for anything other than being teased by my supposed friends.

Tessa tilts her head, her purple eyes never leaving my green ones. "Would you like to know our exact latitude and longitude coordinates right now? Or how about our exact position within the infinite space-time continuum?" She shrugs. "Knowing what time it is seems better than that. At least you'll never be late to anything."

"And yet, he was still tardy to math class almost every day this semester."

I shoot a glare at Sam, mainly to distract myself from Tessa. Coming to my defence now means nothing. "Can we just go already?"

Tessa pulls out her sabre, the Focus she uses whenever she tears. "Fine by me. I'm starving, and they'll be serving dinner soon enough."

I can practically see Fred's mouth watering. He remembers the feast from last summer just as well as I do. To be fair, I don't think I've ever had more delicious food in my life.

Encouraged by the growls in our stomachs, Sam, Fred, and I stand next to Tessa, ready to be pulled into our next adventure.

[phi-lophobic]

excerpt from a book I’ll never write.(47)

“What are you currently writing about?” he eyed me suspiciously, body shifting towards my side of the bed at a failed attempt of taking a peek of the journal in my hands.

My body leaned away from his reflexively as my hands hurriedly clamped together to prevent him from looking at the contents sprawled in the pages. “I, um, it’s a secret. Go mind your own business,” I stuck my tongue out at him, lightly punching his arm.

“Ow. That hurts,” he pouts, rubbing his upper arm dramatically. I rolled my eyes, before laughing at his poor acting skills.

“You’re weak. I guess hours of gym everyday did you no good,” I taunted, poking at his firm muscles on his arm.

“I was doing it for your attention, obviously,” he pointed out, not knowing that I understood his intention in the first place.

“I know. I’m not that oblivious,” I rolled my eyes again, a habit of mine that I should probably stop doing.

“Stop rolling your eyes at me,” he laughs, “But seriously though, I have no idea how you do that.”

“Do what?” I placed my journal that was sitting on my thighs on the nightstand, pulling the covers to my chin and facing him as I laid down. “Roll my eyes? I don’t know. It’s a habit I guess.”

“No, you silly,” it was his turn to roll his eyes at me, a dimpled smile followed afterwards, “Your journal was what I meant. How does one find the inspiration to write stuff like that everyday?”

My eyes widened slightly before I recovered myself, “What do you mean? People just write what happens in their daily life, its not a big deal,” I shrugged. What could he possibly mean by “stuff like that”? He couldn’t possibly… could he?

“Don’t lie to me,” he smirks. “I know what you happen to write, baby.” There goes the pet name he uses when he wants something out of me.

“Don’t baby me into this. I told you my journal was hands off,” I huffed, cheeks glowing a brighter shade of red as each second passed by.

“Well, practically, you left it open on the coffee table. I didn’t even touch it. I just couldn’t help but lean in and read some of it,” he spoke cockily, seemingly proud to have read it without breaking my rule of touching it.

“Your writing is really good,” he placed his warm hand on my upper arm, comforting me from my embarrassment.

“Wait, uh, which part did you read?” I nervously asked. Please do not read the part where I wrote about marriage – please do not read the part in which I mentioned all the little things you do that I notice – please do not read the part where I wrote that I couldn’t wait to have kids with you – please don’t..

“Um that part where you mentioned marriage, and uh,” Fuck. I groaned, burying myself deeper into the sheets, my face fully covered in white. “And that part where you mentioned having five children,” he laughs wholeheartedly, the genuine kind, not the mocking or sarcastic tone he always uses.

“Shut up. They just came to mind one day. I wasn’t particularly talking about marrying you or something,” I joked, but what I didn’t expect was his, I guess – seemingly disappointed face.

“Oh. Yeah, I know. I wasn’t thinking it was meant to be for me anyways,” he forced a smile, scooting back further to his side of the bed before leaning over to grab his phone on his nightstand.

I wanted to laugh and tease him, touch his pouted lips, smooth away the crease that was formed between his eyebrows. Your heart softened at the thought of him being sad that the things you wrote down weren’t about him. He seemed confident minutes ago, his ego crumpled like a piece of paper seconds after.

“Why do you keep writing about this person, then? Is it your ex? Do I happen to know him?” he asks, and I wanted to smack him in the face for being so oblivious.

I have no idea if he was acting as if it wasn’t about him just for me to say that he was wrong - or if he really thought it was possible for me to write about someone else when he is all I imagine being with for the rest of my life.

The way he whispered the last question made me believe the latter instead. I couldn’t laugh at him now – it would seem cruel to tease him that way.

“I keep writing about this person because –“ I stopped, leaning towards him to place my head on his shoulder, “he told me when we were ten that he would marry me one day. He would drag me into every Baby-R-Us we passed by just to look at the tiniest shoes in rows. I don’t know why, really. But I hope its because he envisions a future with me.”

His body tensed as I could practically hear his hear beating out of his chest. I continued, “I keep writing about him because I love him. I really do. I could never envision myself without him in the future.”

He smiles this time, before smirking at me, “Is that why you keep writing about me?”

other excerpts

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 9

Chapter: 9/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: "You don't think he's in love with you, do you?" Roman asked in a strained tone. Silence. "Do you?" Roman demanded. "Oh my god," Virgil said through gritted teeth. Janus could practically hear his jaw creaking. "Virgil!" Roman whisper-shouted.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it

That's my life and all that I've got

Call me a liar, call me a writer

Believe me or not, believe me or not

The sound of a door open and closing startled Janus out of his dreams so violently that he jerked and gasped before falling still again.

Silence followed, but he kept his eyes closed and tried to orient himself. He felt like Remus had used him as a training dummy and remembered very little of the reason why .

Roman's voice broke the silence. "It's not your shift yet, Smoke on the Water."

"I thought you could use the company," Virgil said. "And maybe I missed you."

"Oh, don't lie." Roman sighed and his breath ghosted over Janus' cheek. He was close, then. "That's his job."

Virgil scoffed. "Not anymore, apparently."

Janus focused on keeping his breathing even. It wouldn't do to get caught now of all times.

"You don't buy it?" Roman asked.

"I don't know!" Virgil exclaimed, loud enough to make Janus flinch. In a softer voice, he continued, "I guess people can change. I mean, I did. But it was gradual, and this seems… It seems awfully sudden for a change of heart, especially for someone as stubborn as him."

"You don't think he's in love with you, do you?" Roman asked in a strained tone.

Silence.

"Do you?" Roman demanded.

"Oh my god," Virgil said through gritted teeth. Janus could practically hear his jaw creaking.

"Virgil!" Roman whisper-shouted.

"Have you noticed Patton calling him 'honey'?" Virgil whispered back.

"Wait… You don't think--"

"I don't know!"

"But Patton wouldn't--" Roman tripped over the end of his sentence. "Not him-- "

"You don't just fall in love overnight. What if this some… some campaign for Patton's love?"

"Like a quest?" Roman asked.

Janus nearly laughed. Leave it to Virgil to land three steps to the left of the correct conclusion. And leave it to Roman to spur him on.

Despite the ache in his joints and desperate dryness of his mouth, Janus could feel his mind sliding back toward sleep. There would be no fighting it unless he moved, and he couldn't move without giving up the game.

Oh, well.

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Virgil asked. "Janus doesn't apologize. Janus doesn't do anything unless it serves some sort of end."

"And where does collapsing in my room factor into this master plan?"

"I don't know," Virgil said. "Maybe this part was just bad luck." He sighed and pulled the covers higher up Janus' chest. "It's weird seeing him like this?"

"...Asleep?"

"No, genius. Vulnerable. He doesn't show weakness either."

"Ah, Virgil," Roman said delicately, after a moment's silence. "Not that I'm the best at math, mind you, but something isn't adding up."

"What do you mean?"

"According to Logan, Janus knew he was sick when he came to visit me. Nearly fainted in the kitchen, from what he said. If he's so averse to showing weakness, as you say, why wouldn't he just, you know, wait?"

"...Huh."

"And why would he apologize to me in private? If he wanted to look good in front of Patton, surely he would have found some way to confront me in front of Patton. Janus is still a part of Thomas; he likes an audience. "

Virgil let out a short puff of air through his nose and said nothing for a few moments. "Well… Maybe I shouldn't jump to conclusions like that."

"It's good that you want to be careful," Roman said with undisguised fondness in his voice. Janus almost frowned. Roman and Virgil, really?

"I guess I'll have to wait and see. I really want to know why he keeps calling my name. Rem-- Uh. Okay. Remus said he did it a bunch yesterday."

"He's not Voldemort; you can say his name around me."

"I don't want to make you upset, that's all."

Virgil's words spun lazy circles in Janus' mind, and whatever Roman replied was lost in the rolling fog.

He had expected Virgil to be mistrustful of him; he had every right to be. Janus had expected him to make conspiracies out of nothing and it didn't hurt his feelings.

It also didn't make him happy, not at all, that Roman had defended him with nothing to gain from it.

Sleep came languid and slow, and for once not accompanied by tongues of fire.

--

Maybe it was luck or maybe it was Virgil's sense of duty, but the next time Janus opened his eyes, it was Virgil that he saw.

Virgil's eyes widened almost comically and he froze.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then Janus regained his wits and said, in a tone like they were coworkers who had just passed each other in the hall, "Good morning, Virgil."

Virgil opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. "It's afternoon."

"Well. Forgive me for not counting the hours when I was unconscious," Janus said with venom. Because he was scared.

Virgil scowled at him. "Whatever. Glad you're not dead. I'll go get Patton now."

"No, wait." Janus tried to sit up, hating how his arms shook. He brought out another set to assist, as Virgil seemed disinclined to help, or do anything other than just stare at him. "Force of habit."

"Yeah," Virgil said. "I heard you were on an honesty campaign." The disdain in his voice was almost painful. "Let me guess: You're so sorry for how you treated me in the past. You were jealous because I got what you always wanted and you didn't know how to handle it so you lashed out like the snake you are. And then you couldn't apologize because you were trapped in the image you'd created for yourself, only now, now it's falling down around you and you don't even have your precious pride to stand on, and now there's only one thing left to do." Virgil broke off, a little out of breath. "So you come crawling on your belly to me. The last item on your little 'good person' checklist."

Janus shook , and no amount of blankets could melt the ice that crawled down his veins. Virgil's image blurred, cold tears threatening to spill over. And really, what did Janus have left to lose? Hadn't he earned this? At the end of the day, he was the architect of his own demise.

"For what's it's worth, Virgil," he said, his voice so cracked and rasping he barely even recognized it, "I am sorry. I was jealous. And… I tied my own hands. I see that now."

"So you're saying…" Virgil straightened a little. "You were wrong?"

"Yes, Virgil. I was wrong."

Virgil laughed.

He doubled over, shoulders spasming, and laughed until his face turned red and tears ran down his cheeks. "I can't-- I can't believe this…"

"Um, Virgil?" Janus' humiliation gave way to concern as Virgil's breaths became more and more erratic.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say," Virgil said. "I had so many ideas for how I was going to throw it back in your stupid, smug snake face." He wiped his eyes even as more tears fell.

Janus just stared at him.

"Here's what's funny," Virgil continued. "Now… Now that it finally happened and I have you right where I want you, I don't want to do it ."

"You--" Janus' heart leapt. "You believe me?"

"I believe you." Virgil looked at him, eyes still shining. "But only because you look so sweet holding that teddy bear."

"What?" Janus looked down and realized with a jolt that he did indeed have a stuffed bear tucked under his arm. It was pale brown with white felt on the paws and ears, and was wearing a little T-shirt with 'get well beary soon!' printed on it. "Patton."

"Patton," Virgil said with a nod.

Janus looked around properly for the first time and he realized that Patton was not the only one who had left a gift.

A magnificent bouquet of white roses dominated his nightstand, nearly overshadowing a smaller bouquet of baby's breath and hydrangeas in a Mason jar. Behind the vases stood a 6-pack of blue Gatorade, and balanced on the lids was a small, handmade book.

Virgil noticed him staring and passed over one of the Gatorades, breaking the seal on the lid so Janus wouldn't have to struggle with it.

"Um, Virgil," Janus said, taking a shaky sip and realizing he wasn't wearing his gloves. He grit his teeth and tried not to mind. "I do understand if you don't want to be around me right away."

Virgil shook his head. "I'm done being mad."

"...Just like that?"

"I…" Virgil bit down hard on his lip. "I'm making the choice to forgive you. And maybe I'm being naïve and maybe you'll sink your fangs into my neck the second my guard is down, but… Well, you know, maybe for once the best-case scenario will happen and we'll all be best friends and Thomas will never have problems again."

Janus smiled. "You've changed, Virgil. A lot."

"Yeah, well." Virgil shrugged. "So have you, I think."

Janus raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Virgil leaned in, his grin wolfish and wide. "You're still holding the teddy bear."

Janus' face burned, but he for once made no effort to hide it. "It was a gift, Virgil, it would be rude to--"

"Stop snuggling it and put it with your other gifts?"

Janus closed his eyes and let his head rest against his headboard. "Yes."

"Airtight argument," Virgil said, but the laughter was gone from his voice. "I should get Logan. And you should finish your Gatorade. You probably feel pretty shitty, huh?"

"No, Virgil, I feel fantastic."

"I'm gonna let that slide because you're half-dead."

"Mm." Janus slid further down, gently aware of the Gatorade bottle tipping in his hand.

"Okay." Virgil grabbed the bottle. "No spilling. I'm gonna leave this here with a straw in it. You'd better drink some."

"Okay," Janus said, though he had no intention of doing so. Exhaustion washed over him, a rising tide promising to drag him under.

"You know, once word gets out that you're… not, like, delirious anymore, everybody's going to come running."

"Then don't tell," Janus mumbled, rolling over and pulling the covers up over his head.

"Are you really going back to sleep? You just woke up!"

"Just readjusting."

"Sure."

Janus sighed and wriggled so just his face was poking out from underneath the covers. "Happy?"

"I just don't think you should go back to sleep without drinking something. And no, one tiny sip of Gatorade doesn't count."

"You want to talk to me." Janus was too tired to properly revel in his information, so he settled for a smirk. It was difficult to do with half his face smushed into the mattress, but he was well-practiced.

"Keep pushing and I'm gonna start reading to you from Remus' book of dirty limericks. He hand-wrote that for you, by the way."

"What?" Janus fought to keep the nervous edge out of his voice.

"He said it was an inside joke."

With a concentrated effort, Janus sent the booklet to the top shelf of his closet. He doubted even Remus was reckless enough to expose Janus'... total lack of romantic feelings for Patton in such a careless manner, but still. Better safe than sorry. "Virgil?"

"Hm?"

"What did you get me? I assume the roses are from Roman and the Gatorade is from Logan."

"And the blue flowers are from Patton also."

"Surely they guilt-tripped you into livening up my deathbed as well?"

"My gift was more... abstract."

"Not smothering me to death with Patton's teddy bear does not count as a gift."

"Oh, no." Virgil smirked. "I told Patton how you really take your coffee."

The uncomfortable feeling of being not only seen, but known made Janus hide his face under the comforter again. "You didn't."

"Oh, I did. He knows all about your whipped cream addiction."

" Virgil."

"You're welcome, honey."

Janus went completely still. Half-formed memories of Roman and Virgil conversing in his room swam around his head and oh. Virgil had guessed it. Part of it, anyway. Janus had thought he'd let it go with the rest of his little conspiracy theory, but… And now he'd just completely missed his chance to bluff. He tried anyway. "If this is your way of calling me sweet--"

"Busted," Virgil interrupted.

"Go back to being scared of me," Janus muttered into the blankets.

"Look," Virgil said, voice deadly serious. "I can't tell you what to do, but I swear to all things dark and stormy, if you break Patton's heart, I'll break you ."

"I don't--" Janus tried. "I-- We're not…" He made an exaggerated, high-pitched coughing sound. "I'm going to tell Logan that you antagonized me while I was trying to sleep."

"Oh, please."

"And Patton and I aren't-- He doesn't-- He doesn't feel that way about me."

"That fever must have evaporated some of your brain cells," Virgil said.

Janus was inclined to agree, although for different reasons-- He couldn't think of a single way to change the subject. He settled for a long, drawn-out hiss.

"Just talk to him, okay?" Virgil said. "Or don't. Actually, don't."

"I don't need your permission to start dating Patton," Janus spat, forgetting himself.

"So you do want to date him."

"...No."

"I believe you."

"I'm going back to sleep now."

"Gatorade first." Virgil drew the covers back and held the bottle up to Janus. There was a straw in it now, a purple bendy straw that poked Janus in the lip. He fixed Virgil with a death glare and was privately relieved to see Virgil shrink back under its intensity. Like a river changing course, the parts of Janus that made him who he was were still there, even if his direction had altered.

That was good enough for him.

But he still wasn't going to let Virgil nurse him like he was some kind of helpless baby animal.

Careful not to drop the teddy bear, Janus sat up and took the bottle from Virgil. He drank half of it before his shaking hands gave up on him.

"Go to sleep," Virgil said, setting the bottle on the nightstand. "I'll tell the others not to crowd you." He turned to leave.

Janus almost let him. "Thank you, Virgil. And…" He'd had quite enough of showing his belly, and yet…. "I really am sorry. For everything."

"I know, Janus. Get some rest."

[forstartersofficial]

Scheduled: Excerpt

My life was nothing but a strict schedule. I spent two hour-blocks in classrooms, locker rooms, and on hot turf. I’m not going to lie, I really did like it that way. However, when midterm exams began in the wake of the most detrimental part of the season, I realized that my schedule: breakfast, class, lunch, practice, film, shower, homework,  and repeat was a bit too structured.

I didn’t leave quite enough time to rest. Once again, I liked it that way.

But the lack of sleep was beginning to get to me. I noticed when I fell asleep in Chemistry. Then again when I fell asleep halfway inside of my locker with one cleat on And another time when I fell asleep during film review and drooled all over our next game notes.

I was only comparable to a zombie when I stumbled up the stairs to Jake’s place with my backpack hanging off one of my shoulders, pulling my tired body to a hilariously off-centered sway as I knocked on his door.

He opened it. We exchanged the usuals, and I walked into his apartment. I was always somewhat nervous walking in, I was scared his room-mate would spot me. But he had once before and he didn’t care, he wasn’t familiar with NCAA regulations either so he wouldn’t report us.

Jake paused in his kitchen before going to his room, “Do you want something to drink or eat?”

I had apparently caught him in the act of changing, as he still had his khaki pants on from work, but his polo shirt had been replaced with a soft, loosely fitted long-sleeve that seemed more fit for lounging.

“Uh, water.” I say after a weird amount of time, as it had taken me twice as long as usual to comprehend the statement and come up with an answer.

Jake chortles, reaching into his fridge for a bottle of water. “No offense Hay, but you look dead.” he says, tossing me a cold bottle.

I am barely able to catch it, reacting a little too slow and I mumble, “Sorry, I’m just a little off today.”

“Alright, we can only practice like a chapter tonight.” Jake said as we made the familiar shuffle to his room at the far left end of the apartment.

We walked in and I placed my backpack right by the door, underneath one of his many superhero posters and grabbed my textbook from the bag. I usually sat in his desk chair, bobbing on it to keep myself entertained as we worked as he sat at the edge of his bed right across from the chair.

But tonight he’s just standing there, looking at me expectantly, motioning to the bed. I give him an odd look, which he returns with, “The bed’s more comfortable, I feel bad always giving you the chair.”

If it were any other day I’d argue, but I just nod, “Thanks.” I say as I plop down onto the bed. I realize, oddly enough, that this is the first time I’ve been on his bed. It’s weird to me, considering all that we’ve been up to, but it seems like we’re always on the road.

He has that stupid plaid-looking comforter and pillow set that I feel every man in his twenties has before he’s settled down. It’s typical Walmart bachelor.

But I bash on them too quick, because it’s soft and comfy. Jake sits down in his desk chair, opening his text book to read off something about Equilibrium. K= something, that’s basically what I got from fuzzily listening to him read the introduction to the Chemistry section.

I yawn, rubbing my eyes as we begin our first set of practice problems. We finish about three, and I ask him about his answers and vice versa. Then I just lay back on his bed, yawning again as I lie to myself and him, “I’m just gonna rest my back for a second while you read the next section.”

Jake nods, and I catch his eye. He seems a bit worried, but not in a way that Chemistry would make him, rather he looks like a concerned parent. I fall asleep for a split-second, and I relax a bit too much and my notebook slides off of my lap and into the floor, waking me.

I pop up, rubbing my eyes again. “Sorry, I’m just a little tired.” I tell Jake as I bend down to pick up my book.

“Tired?” Jake stands up from his chair, leaning down to pick up the stuff for me, “Hayes, you’re exhausted.”

“I’m really fine, I’ve done the same thing all semester.” I argue as he puts my stuff back on my lap.

He shakes his head, “Exactly, you’ve built up countless hours of sleepless nights. I can only imagine how much you need to catch up on.”

I shrug, “That’s kinda dramatic.”

“You need to sleep.” Jake pushes sternly as he sits down beside me on the edge of the bed, pulling my notebook out of my lap. He places it onto his desk, “Please. Before you actually fall over dead. Not to mention you need to rest before exams next week.”

I don’t want to accept defeat, but I really did want to sleep. I yawned again just by looking at my bookbag tucked by the door, and sighed, “I don’t know, I’ve got a long trek back to the dorm to have come over here for nothing.”

“Stay here.”

Jake said it so quickly that it kind of took me off-guard and we look at each other, relieved for some reason. I rub my arm meekly, beginning to feel guilty about such an invitation. “I don’t know…” I trail off, falling back onto the bed, “Fuck it.”

Jake laughs, “Exactly. Go ahead and crawl into bed, I’ll go grab you an extra blanket off the couch.”

Before I could protest Jake disappeared, and my body automatically just put myself into bed. My mind unwillingly agreed as I hit the pillow. I was already halfway asleep when Jake returned, when he saw me bundled up he kind of stopped in the doorway.

I opened one eye a little to see him there holding the extra blanket, he padded over and put the blanket over me. He moved it closer to me, tucking me in. He accidentally touches my chin and we both smile slightly. Then he grabs a pillow from behind me and starts to leave his room again.

I stop him, “Where are you going?” I question groggily.

“The couch.” Jake replied.

“Are you kidding me?” I groaned, “Are we gonna act like we haven’t slept together before?”

Jake shrugs in the doorway and I turn over in my nest of blankets and pat the empty space beside me, “It’s your bed after all.”

He seems happy I offered and slides into bed with me. A few awkward exchanges, I accidentally elbow him in the face, and then I’m tucked in his arms somehow. He rests his chin atop of my head and I really don’t remember much else.

I woke up in a panic, as if I had forgotten where I was. I recollected myself, rubbing some sleep from my eye. I looked around. Jake was nowhere to be found. I looked over at the nightstand to find my phone there, he had plugged it in for me. And beside my phone was a fresh water bottle and a bagel.

It was cold now though. I reached over, going for my phone when his bedroom door opened and he walked in. He saw me, smiling as he took one earphone out of one of his ears, “You’re awake, not going to lie, I thought you died.”

I blink blankly at him, “How long have I been asleep?”

“Nearly twenty hours now. Practice is in two, I was actually coming in to wake you. I went ahead and went to class, just decided I could leave you here to sleep in.” He tells me with a soft smile.

I hated him for being so irresistibly loveable.

The next fews days ahead of exams, I told Kelani everyday when I returned to the dorm that I was staying with Corrie for a few nights, and I’d find myself stumbling sleepily back to Jake’s bed each night.

I finally felt rested, and I got a B- on my Chemistry midterm exam.

And the plaid of Jake’s comforter was no longer a stranger to me, and my strict regiment left a new slot in for that bed. 

[mentalrubikzcube-blog]

Confront Yourself Ch. 4

chapter 4 The Semicolon

((The previous chapter was an excerpt from the book Relynn was reading that she got from the Curio Cabinet.))

After reading that journal entry, I felt sort of at peace myself. I had gotten a good nights rest and now I sat on my balcony smoking a Red and people watching. I took a break from my amusement to sneak some reading in. This Miss Lovely Lovely lady was really something and I felt like she knew more about me then even I knew about me to be totally honest. I felt like a pressure has been taken off of me by reading this book and knowing that there's someone out there who understands my pain because they've felt it themselves. I trace the tip of my finger over my semicolon tattoo on my right arm on the side of my wrist. This was exactly why I got this as my first and only tattoo at the present moment. To be an outward symbol to people who have also felt like they are at the end of their rope and think that no one out there loves them. We have all felt that pain at one time or another. Completely alone. Nothing you do is right. Running in circles trying to make sense of all your fucked up feelings. Sleep is nothing but a chore now a days. No rest for the weary. We are the kinds of people who love so incredibly much but hardly ever get back the amount of care an compassion we radiate out to others. I pick the book back up once more and keep reading. To my surprise that was the very next chapters title. I started reading, I had to know if we felt the same way about the quality of life. I began reading to myself:

Life is such a precious thing. Something we are privileged to be given. And no man has the right to take that privilege away. Only the One whom gave it has the right to take it away. This in no way translates to the birth mother or birth father, this goes farther back to the Creator of the whole Universe. Because He is the only one who decides if the Life is created or not. This answers my opinions on the death penalty as well. The only time that murder is justified is if your family is in danger. Otherwise those who kill for pleasure will be condemned to the deepest circle of Hell. And you must somehow take pleasure in it because if you are an executioner and you kill those who have not wronged you, their Blood is infinitely on your Soul. For Blood is the Liquid that we Run On. The thing that fuels every human being. Remember that we all bleed red, and do you really want that stain on your Soul for the rest of Eternity? Truly understand what you are messing with before you mess with it. Do No Harm to anyone. Shamans, Deathwalkers, Reapers, and many others My Prayers are with you for your Journey will be very long and rough.

Wait!?! What!?! I set the book down and think to myself, "What are death walkers?" I grab my tablet and head to Google. First what is a Death Walker? A Death walker is someone who can accompany the dying person and the bereaved through their journey. The Training is over 3 days and covers the whole spectrum including illness, dying & death, sudden death, body care, disposal, ceremony into bereavement and loss. Taken from, www.naturaldeathcarecentre.org as well as this: Our definition of a Death walker is:- • a person who walks their own journey towards their death as openly, courageously and as best they can. • a person who walks with, or accompanies someone else in their death journey, i.e. the dying person, family or friends. Offering guidance and care to inform, empower and enable them to be as open, courageous and the best they can.

Death is the natural and sacred end of life – one certainty that every human being will experience, yet something we are often unfamiliar with. A Death walker is someone who can accompany the dying person and the bereaved through their journey.

"Wow, that's really amazing, why don't more people know about this?" I wonder to myself once more, then I pick the book back up and keep reading:

Life is a very Sacred thing and should be treated with the utmost Respect. This also pertains to the women you commit murder as well. You know exactly who I'm talking to. Only a coward commits murder unless its to protect their family. But don't think that rape and the fact that you’re young are good enough excuses to kill an innocent child. This is completely and totally unacceptable. We all make mistakes yes, but this is pure selfishness in my opinion. If you are gifted with life then you should be grateful not throw it away because its an "inconvenience" to you. Think of the inconvenience to this child, because it has to deal with you as a mother. When you decided to get in that bed with the opposite sex, you knew the possible outcome. If more people had respect for the way things work we wouldn't have so much chaos in our world. Children wouldn't be raising children. And we wouldn't be so God-less. But no, we thing we know better then the Creator, so we take things into our own hands and mess them up. People think Death is a joke. Its not, its the End. Its Permanent and Final. And should be a last resort if at all possible. If we had less death we could actually make things work between people. But too often when someone doesn't like someone else they just want get rid of them. But no one really thinks about the severity of the situation. Anyway moving on from Death to Birth. Children are one of the greatest things we have. They ensure our future and should be protected at all costs. If we didn't reproduce our whole raise would disappear in a matter of years. Children are our breathing life line. They keep us growing along with the sea creatures, the mammals, and those who rule the skies above. Everything works together in a balance. But if you upset that balance it can mean horrible things for us. The system was set up to ensure our happiness and well being. If this is tampered with then our happiness and well being are tampered with and are subject to change at any point. We need to leave things the way they are. They've been working this way for thousands of years. Also lets briefly discuss the age of Miss Mother Earth, shall we? Why in the world would you wanna believe in a earth that's millions and billions of years old, that would mean that we are close to the end. Why not believe in a young earth, and speculate about all the possibilities for the future. Our planet is absolutely beaming with Life if you just open your eyes. But these special individuals are only worried about global warming and saving the polar bear as they kill their own young and profess false truth to the masses. They manipulate and plot to get things to bend in their favor. This is utterly repulsive. Those who must plot and scheme to get their way are not good people to have around. You should try and be as honest as you can in your dealings with your fellow man. But back to the old earth idea, why do you doubt this sphere that we exist on so much. Why not open your mind to the young earth idea, what could it possibly hurt.

I close the book momentarily to ponder on what I had just read.

"We both believe that the Earth is there, and to be completely honest does it really matter how old it is?" I thought to myself, "I guess it does if there are so many damn theories." I hear a knock on the door. I place the book in the nightstand drawer and answer, "Come in." It was Daya, she had my meds and a snack. Apple wedges and Peanut Butter with Yoo-hoo to drink.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks sweetly as she hands me the tray and sits herself on the edge of the bed to watch me. "Better, I guess." I answered, then began to consume the food like a ravenous wolf. I was getting my appetite back that's for sure. I wasn't really sure how I felt to be honest. I was definitely getting better, but I wasn't back to myself yet. But the more I read this book, I'm not sure I wanna go back to my old self. I use to look at the world a certain way, but I need to be more open minded and willing to listen. After I ate my snack I planned to take a walk and enjoy the beauty outside. Daya and I talked a bit more and then she had to go to work. I rested a bit more and when I knew for sure she was gone I got up and got ready for my walk.

After getting dressed I headed out. It was gorgeous today. The sun was warm. The sky so blue. The air so crisp and clean. Little did I know that this was the calm before the storm. I was walking along. Everything was good. I finally felt happy again and all seemed to be at peace. Just as a I turned around to head home my cell rang. I pull it out of my pocket and it reads UNKNOWN NUMBER. I answer it anyway. "Hello?" I say into the phone "Miss Yorfath?" "This is she." "Well we regret to inform you but a friend of yours is in the hospital and asked that we contact you." "Who made the request?" I ask even though I already knew. As soon as the nice lady said Dayanara, I hung up and took off running to the hospital. I didn't even know where to go but I had to get to her. I hailed a taxi and he took me to the closest hospital which was Kennedy Heath and just as he pulled up I hoped out and dashed into the hospital. I asked the lady at the front whilst still trying to catch my breath. I ran up the stairs and down the hallways. Finally I was at her room and I couldn't believe my eyes. To Be Continued...

[69tell-blog]

Windowpane [EXCERPT]

1st Chapter, Villa Vance.

         I hear footsteps coming down the hallway, probably Julia, my brother’s girlfriend. The three of us just started living in this apartment about a month ago. I still haven’t unpacked all my things and boxes crowd my room. I’m happy that Terrence isn’t selfish and that Julia can stand me. If not for those two I don’t know where I’d be. It’s been rough for me since graduation; my degree seems not to have made finding a job easy at all, and I’d settle for fast-food or retail, but I hate dealing with people. It’s awkward and sometimes embarrassing for me. In a perfect world, I’d have a desk at a prominent magazine or newspaper company. Alas, The freelance gigs I’ve been so loyal to are paying less & less now. Money is tight.          Her footsteps get louder; she pauses briefly before turning the doorknob, without a knock.          She walks in; her face is flushed. I can tell she’s upset about something, or someone.          “My God Vill, do you ever plan on cleaning up around here? I mean seriously, it’s like you haven’t unpacked a single thing. Are you living out of a box? She asks. “And another thing, when are you going to start working? Me and Terrence can’t pay for this place alone you know!”          “Well, I’m trying my best & that’s all I can tell you. I know money is tight, I know I’m not working. I’m sure I’ll find a job soon, I’ve been applying to a lot of publications. Don’t let my junky room distract you; I’m getting everything straightened out, believe it.”          I say that I’ve been trying, but the truth is, I haven’t applied myself at all. I haven’t filled any applications out. This white lie is all I need to buy some time until I can find something I can bear. To me, it seems selfish to be so choosy when I know Terrence and Julia are handling most of the bills. I’m optimistic that I’ll come across something soon and if not… there can’t be an “if not.” I’d never let them know the truth; they couldn’t understand. I just need a little while longer.          “I’ve got an interview with Express tomorrow morning.” I lie.          “Well, that’s a start I guess.” Her tone softens, and she becomes a concerned mother, worried that her scolding has hurt her child’s feelings.          “You know I don’t mean to get so worked up, but Me and Terrence can’t afford to keep splitting these bills alone. We have other places we need to spend our money Vill, and we’re counting on you for relief.”          “I know Julia, I know. I’m trying my hardest to pull it together.”          “Okay.”          She walks out, closing the door behind her. I’m relieved she didn’t ask what Express was, I wouldn’t have had an answer. It’s just some company I saw in a magazine before. Julia’s concern is a sign that I need to make a move soon. I figure that as long as Express is a part of my lie, I may as well look into it. I pull the magazine out from one of the boxes I rummaged through last night and flip to the last page. It reads “Express — Highway to life, now hiring. Call 1 333 999 9966.”          I grab the house phone, but before I can lift a finger to dial, I hear a knock, an entrance more subtle than the last.          “Come in,” I answer. No response.          “Come in!” I shout. Still, no answer.          I get up to check and see who’s knocking and why they didn’t they just walk in. I crack the door a little and peep through the opening; no one is there. Probably Terrence is playing a joke on me, though it isn't very funny. I shrug it off and get ready to redial the number.          Then, another knock on the door.          “Terrence I’m in the middle of something, stop kidding around!” I shout.          He didn’t respond. I quickly get up to answer the door once again, this time more furious and agitated. I fling the door open and out pops Terrence from behind a corner. He’s wearing a Ghostface mask.          “Am I supposed to be scared?”          “Haha, you fell for it last time.”          “Which is why it didn’t work this time. I was right in the middle of an important call, so I’m not going for any of your shenanigans. Julia just got on my case about not having a job, so this is serious. I think she’ll be less flustered once I land something; I'll pull my weight around here too.”          “Well, guess what Villy. You don’t have to worry anymore! You can keep all your money buddy. I’ve got everything covered. I thought my shenanigans might brighten your day since you’re always moping around here looking depressed and shit.”           “What are you talking about? How can you have everything covered? Do you know what you're saying? The rent here is way too much for one person to handle, and I know that call center isn’t paying that much.”          He begins to explain his luck at being offered a position with a new organization called Express. The same company I was about to call and apply. He's ecstatic to tell me the salary and how much fun the job is. Oddly, he never sheds light on what the job entails. When I ask, he changes the subject, over and over, every time I ask. There’s nothing I want to know more than the type of work involved. Every ad I saw was bereft of anything more than a cheesy slogan.          I had heard enough of Terrence's stories. It’s good that he found a high paying job but if he covers everything I’ll feel like a freeloader. I hurried to end the conversation. When he finished talking, I praised him and continued my phone call with Express.          "Hello—Express Career Services, my name is Jenny. How may I help you?"          "Yes, Ms. Jenny, I'd like information about any job openings you have."          "Okay sir, may I please have your name and SSN?"          Social security? That’s peculiar. I’m not inclined to divulge the information, but since Terrence got the job, he must have gone through the same process.          "Oh… yes ma'am, of course. My name is Villa Vance and my So—"          “Villa Vance!” She exclaims. Sir, please meet me at my office, tomorrow at 5:00 p.m. sharp. Thank you. Click!          "But where is your office? Where do I need to go?" I was talking to myself; she had already hung up the phone.          It seemed promising, in fact, I almost had a little hope that things would turn around. Now, I'm back at square one. Why couldn't the lady just tell me where her office was before she hung up. How could she expect me to know where to go or how to get there.          The phone began to make a dial tone. I had forgotten to dismiss the call. I click end and flop onto my bed. The plan was to go to college, get a bachelor’s degree in English, then snag a job writing for a company or teaching. The plan failed. In reality, I’m sitting in a room full of boxes with no clue what to do next. In a moment, every depressive thought of my future begins to creep into my consciousness, so the walls close in and my brain feels too big for my head with every analysis fighting the other for a space to occupy. From college, life has never seemed this volatile. I’m used to a set routine with predictable outcomes. Now, I truly don’t know what’s to come next or how well I can handle it. I’m already unstable. Tonight will be cold I know. I should get to bed.          Writing is the only thing that ever helped me relieve stress. Before I go to sleep, I have to write in my journal. It’s something I’ve done since I was a little boy. By documenting what happens in the past, I can remember it easier than a mere memory. My memory is frail. I write in detail, lest I forget a single instance.          I grab my notebook and a pen to jot down everything that took place today. When I woke up this morning, I found that my cell phone had stopped working. For some reason, it wouldn’t cut on. Next, I couldn’t find the remote to the TV, even though I distinctly remember putting it on my nightstand before going to bed last night. Which was right after I looked through a box of magazines, where I found the Express ad.          I continue to write about my day until the ink in my pen runs out. Of course, the ink would run out. With everything going wrong, why would anything decide to go in the right direction? I don’t remember having another pen in my drawer, but I check anyway. I open it up to behold a bright red pen I never knew existed, Express is printed in small white words on the side. Before I reach to pick the pen up, I hear a voice. It shouts in my ear, “Express!.”          I jolt back and quickly check my surroundings. Maybe I had been awake too long. My clock says 1 a.m. as if I’d been writing that long. At any rate, How did this pen get in the drawer?          “Walk toward the window.” The voice calls. And like a fool I follow. I walk to my window and peek through the blinds to see no one.          This better not be another one of Terrence’s tricks. No, it couldn’t be.          “Open it!” The voice shouts.          But I won’t move, I’m not willing to open a window for a voice alone. I don’t know who or where the speaker is. I’m reviewing every concept of reality introduced to me, trying to disprove them all to explain how and why this is happening.          “This is for your own good.” It whispers.          Suddenly, My hand moves to the window without my permission. I slide the lock to the left and slowly raise the glass. My body is no longer under my control. It has a will of its own. Terror and confusion have replaced any sense of security and common sense I had. The chilling wind from the draft of the open window bites my lip with a gust that is much more bitter than it should be. The calling voice spirals from a whisper to a mumble. Finally, an obnoxious shout breaks my thought.         “You are no longer a part of this world. Listen to my voice to uncover great wisdom. You must understand before you walk blindly. I am here to lead you, accept my presence and follow my will. Let your body do the work. Put your mind to rest.” It claims.          Before I knew it, I climbed out of the window. The wind whipped so rapidly that it hurt to hold my eyes open, so I kept them closed. I'm now dangling from the third floor of an apartment building without a hint as to what will happen next. My body is frozen, I can't see, and a seemingly benevolent, but eerie voice is dictating my actions. It told me to let my mind rest. It feels like this voice knows me. Does this entity have control of my body? Something I thought was a joke at first has changed into a phenomenon I can’t fathom, let alone explain. If I am no longer a part of this world, then what world have I entered?          I've been dangling for at least ten minutes now, and the voice hasn’t yielded another command since. My arms have yet to tire out, and despite a severe, arctic wind, I’ve resisted hypothermic shock.          Then, all motion of the wind stopped, and something began to counteract the bitter cold. It was dark outside, but now I feel rays of light surround me. My eyes remain closed; I begin to imagine the environment around me. It feels like I’ve arrived in a place where sunshine and light are persistent and dazzling. What is this world?          I'm no longer dangling from the window of an apartment building, but now standing straight up with little space between my feet. My back is erect, and my head is tilted slightly up. My eyes are still closed, but this is by choice. I'm not ready to see.          The voice calls me by my first name. I'm not willing to answer this soon. I don't feel like I should have to speak, I’m the one expecting answers. After a long pause, the voice seems to fade away, while murmuring what sounded like a rant. I stand here, quietly and patiently, as my life whirls around in my noggin. I think about Terrence and Julia; the debt and trouble I'm in. I question the possibility of all this being a dream. I convince myself that it is indeed an odd dream, which gives a good reason as to why I have not yet opened my eyes. Perhaps, once I open them, I'll be in my room lying on the bed.          That's it; it's time to stop this dream. I'll count to three and open my eyes. One... Two... Th— “Are you ready Villa?” The voice interrupts.