Booktok Book Journal Novels & Stories

he was still as cocky as ever, typical Beta. After he said that no bumps would appear because the book seemed light, he took it. We both stared at the book that appeared to be a journal. We gave each other a curious look. Why would there be a journal on the shelves of the encyclopedia at the library? I knew it was wrong to look through someone else's diary, but my curiosity got the best of me. I took the journal from Ace and started to flip through it. The journal seemed old; the pages of the book were turning brown. There were liquid stains on some of the pages too. The diary was well organized, there were no lines, but the entries were styled.

Instead, she shifted gears, asking, "What were you reading?" I snapped my fingers, and my journal reappeared in my hand. It was a treasured possession, filled with entries spanning the past 100 years. I had amassed a collection of these journals, each one a testament to my love of recording every detail of my life. I wrote about experiences, adventures, thoughts, plans, and ideas - nothing was left unrecorded.

Rearranging the books, I found a small brown book wedged behind them, but it didn’t have a title or seem to belong to the library. While putting the library books up, I took the unmarked book and opened the cover to see if something was inside to help me figure out where the book went. The cover had nothing, so I flipped the page and saw it was a journal. The handwriting looked familiar as if I had seen it before. Flipping the pages, I skimmed the contents and saw that it discussed microchips. It was also about changed wolves. I took the book to the loft to find out if it was related to the same thing I wanted to create.

“I feel like I’m drowning in my own mind sometimes. Like I can’t escape it, no matter how hard I try.” Aaron didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached into the box and pulled out the leather-bound book. He placed it gently in her lap. “What’s this?” she asked. “A journal,” he said softly. “It’s empty, but… sometimes, writing it down helps. Even if no one ever reads it. Even if the words never make any sense. It helps. Nana gave it to me, her last gift for me.”

I opened my eyes to find Brock’s side of the bed empty and I sighed. Not again! Did he regret already? I sighed and slid out of the covers putting on my underwear. I stared at the huge library of books on the wall and smiled. So Brock read books, how cute, a book caught my attention and I saw that I was an old journal written by Brock. “You know, you shouldn’t snoop” said Brock voice behind me and I whirled around, his journal fell from my hands and he smiled.

He was still acting like a pathetic little child. By the time I finished writing all my thoughts down in the journal, I noticed that I had filled four whole pages. I didn't realize that there was so much going through my head. But it did feel like a relief to get it out in the open. Well, at least in my journal. It was something that I needed to get out. Even if it was just to myself. To a book sitting in front of me. A book that would never betray me or hurt me.

Four men so different, yet united in their love for me and for our kingdom. "Noah first," I murmured, considering my practical, steadfast king. Noah appreciated usefulness, things with purpose. He collected antique weapons, not for display but for their craftsmanship and history. Perhaps a rare dagger? No, too impersonal. Something connected to us, to our bond... *What about a journal?* Artemis suggested. *But not just any journal—one with your handwriting alongside blank pages for his.* I smiled, warming to the idea. Noah was the most introspective of my kings, often writing down his thoughts to organize them. A journal where I'd already written memories of us, important moments in our rela

I smile at her. “Go, open it.” She insists happily. “I thought about you when I saw it so I instantly bought it right away.” I started opening the paper bag and saw a notebook that seemed like a journey or something and a cute hand-knitted slipper inside. “That is a Mamentos Before Child Pregnancy Journal so you could write down everything you want to.” “Oh Gwyneth that’s so sweet of you. Thank you.” I said as I examined the journal before throwing myself to her. “This means so much to me. Thank you.

That was the most random thing I'd ever heard from luis and I honestly wasn't sure how to respond. "A book... About what?" I was afraid to ask. He snickered. "Don't sound too excited for me, lynn. It's going to be a book about life advice and how to stop being an asshole to yourself. I'm going to make it like a journal. I tell you a piece of advice with my clever musings, and then the reader will have a space to write about that piece of advice." I stopped and grabbed his arm as a grin stretched my lips. "I actually don't hate that idea at all."

I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle another yawn. Despite being incredibly tired, I decide to jot down the recent events in my personal journal, my confidant that I made myself. The design is beautiful, the cover is a velvety hardcover with an image of a butterfly, in gradient colors of pink, blue, and yellow. The journal is completely covered, giving it the appearance of a small bag with a zipper. I end up falling asleep, and as I shift to my side, the journal slips from my lap.