#Very favorable online shop
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Ollie delivers fresh, healthy dog food made with real, human-grade ingredients, tailored to your pup's unique nutritional needs. Zero fillers. No by-products, artificial flavors or preservatives. Ollie combines carefully sourced ingredients and vet-f
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If I do get hired tomorrow I'll have to wear scrubs to work and I don't have any right now so my mom gave me some that were always too tight on her but are still a little too big on me. I'mma be lookin' like David trying to wear King Saul's armor for the first month at work lmaooo
#after I get paid abt 3-4 weeks after i work there I'll shop for scrubs at goodwill and online or anywhere else I might get some for cheap#IF i even get hired#although odds are very in my favor bc they are desperate for help
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Not having a car in your 20s really is a humbling experience. That post where the guys like 'I have to ask my mum to go to walmart' I feel that.
I'm not American so I do have the benefit of town living and a walkable community. I feel very lucky to have been able to live right in the heart of my hometown again (lived on the main street above a shop for a while as a kid but mostly lived in residential areas. As an adult I'm lucky enough to live on a road coming off the main street (can no longer live in places with stairs so above a shop is no longer an option) HOWEVER.
my town is gentrified as fuck and all the shops are stupid. And even if I put up with the cost and buy the things I can in local shops, I can only carry a very limited weight of shopping, but am very stupid and overestimate my ability/ realise but still get carried away and buy too much as I have no impulse control every time. So I'm left having to beg lifts/tag along with pretty much anyone that'll have me lol.
Pour one out for me, trying to run a household and not even having parents I can ask for lifts. I'm begging lifts off aunties, grandparents, friends, fucking COUSINS. Most humbling experience ever and without a car you can't even repay them with easy errands. Watch me repay the favour with CHILDCARE, with TECH SUPPORT, with financial advice. Those are all the worst favors. I don't mind doing them but BY GOD would I prefer to be able to occasionally just pick them up something from the shop. Drop them at the train station. Pick up a parcel.
#i do have parents. they just aren't the kind of parents you can ask to do things lol#plus my dad left the country when i was a teenager so he's not here to ask even if i thought he might do it#and my mum. well she's my mum. once made the mistake of asking her to pick me up from the hospital when I'd been taken there by ambulance#and had been admitted for a few days so they wouldn't discharge me without someone collecting me#(i was also like 17 lol so tho i lived alone we were on rocky territory as to if they'd LET anyone that wasnt a parent collect me)#and she was like. 'i do have a life you know! this is very inconvenient.'#eventually she did collect me so i was discharged eventually (only like 8 hours after they wanted to discharge me lol) but#she complained the whole time lol and parked like 20 minutes away despite me being in hospital cause my leg was fucked#(who does that? bring the car round for fucks sake) so since then she's been at the bottom of my list of ppl to ask favors from and if i do#bother theres a 90% chance she'll say no she doesnt want to#if she does agree she will complain about it the whole time. be as awkward as possible and remind ppl how helpful she was for the next year#therefore the choice is: buy things locally at a markup. catch the bus and inevitability injure myself by buying too much. online shopping#online works pretty well for a lot of heavy stuff but there's a big markup. plus most of the time i have to use amazon my beloathed#so i usually end up writing lists of stuff for certain (cheaper) shops and then either jumping on the opportunity when someones going there#or else letting the list pile up and asking for a favour when i can't wait any longer.#(my worst trait is whenever someone has a problem being like.i know exactly what you need.you know where you can buy it? I'll come!)#its largely a self inflicted inconvenience cause I'm too cheap to just buy things at a markup I'd rather buy in bulk at out of town shops
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I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.
Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.
The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)
The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).
Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.
He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!
The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.
Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.
The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.
The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.
An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.
Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.
The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)
The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.
The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.
Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!
#the band ghost#ghost bc#nameless ghoul#nameless ghouls#swiss ghoul#phantom ghoul#swiss ghost#dewdrop ghost#rain ghost#mountain ghoul#mountain ghost#rain ghoul#phantom ghost#dewdrop ghoul#cirrus ghoulette#aurora ghoulette#cumulus ghost#aether ghost#aeon ghoul#impera ghoul#impera#meerkat talks about ghost costumes#IMPERA FIT MASTER POST LET'S GOOOO
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dildo shopping
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: aaron catches you dildo shopping.
word count: 1k
warnings: sex toys, emily being a little shit
Telling Emily about your less-than-adequate one-night stand had been a mistake. After being short with everyone for the whole day, she finally confronted you about the change in attitude and you confessed the guy you brought home the night before had gotten off without returning the favor.
She had asked when was your last orgasm and you had to think about it before telling her it had been a while. With that reply, she dragged you to the closest mall. That's how you ended up in front of a Spencer's.
You raised an eyebrow at Emily, sighing loudly as you reluctantly followed her inside. "Seriously, Em? I think I could've just bought a vibrator online or something."
"That could take days to come and you clearly need this now." Emily leads you to the back section, giving you a look. "Don't argue with me, you yelled at Rossi after he got your coffee order wrong today."
"I literally have no memory of that," you replied, trying to think if that situation had happened. "I didn't even drink coffee today."
Emily holds up an "I love Milfs" t-shirt briefly. "Because you threw it in the garbage after cussing him out in Italian. Rossi teaching you Italian really came back to bite his ass today."
"Whatever," you said, a twinge of guilt crawling into your heart. You shrugged it off knowing he'd understand and you made a mental note to get him his favorite bottle of wine to make up for it.
As you entered the back, you looked through all the dildos and vibrators lined up against the wall. Emily held up a purple dildo, reading through the description while you looked at the unimpressive dildo and vibrator wall decor, none really vibing with you.
"This one says it vibrates and is supposed to feel realistic," she mumbles, eyes narrowing as she reads through the instructions. "Six inches though, I think you can take more than that right?"
You giggled, unable to hold in a laugh. "I don't really want to think about Barney's small dick vibrating in my cunt when I want to cum, Em. Or Thanos for that matter."
She makes a face, putting the purple vibrating dildo back. "What a strange image. Thanks for ruining Barney for me."
Chuckling, you check out the lingerie a nearby mannequin is wearing. It's black and lacy, and while it holds up the titties, it's see-through and the panties are crotchless. Taking off its panties, you hold it up to your body. "Hey, this is cute isn't it?"
"Very cute, you should get it," Emily responds, looking through the hundred dildo options.
"Yes, you should."
You freeze, your ears instantly knowing who that voice belonged to. Emily looks behind you without turning her head, holding back a laugh at your clear mortification. A second passes and you turn around to see Aaron fucking Hotchner, your stoic boss and friend standing in front of you, looking at the lingerie you had pressed up against you.
You can't help but laugh awkwardly. "Hotch? What're you doing here?"
He's amused and you can tell because he's eyes are twinkling and the corner of his lips are twitching as if fighting the urge to smile. "I was picking something up for Jessica at Bath and Body Works when I saw you guys and wanted to say ... hi.”
"Wonderful." you deadpanned, placing the crotchless panties back on top of the mannequin's head.
Before either of you could say anything else, Emily joins in, a smile so smug and big it would've been hard to miss from space. "I'm going to look at that section of toys. Maybe you'll like a blue one instead so you can imagine it's Jake Sully instead."
She's too far away when you think about slapping her, already moving towards the side section of even more vibrators and dildos, a few naughty shirts display that separated you and Hotch from her. After glaring a hole into the back of her head, you turned back to Hotch, wanting nothing more than to melt on the floor and die.
"I-" you start, unable to finish; just like the night before.
He begins to look through the wall of sex toys, brows furrowing at the choices. Your cheeks redden when he picks up the infamous rose vibrator momentarily before placing it back down. It looked so tiny in his big hands and you wanted nothing more than to have his big hands in you. "What kind of toys do you like?"
It takes you a second to comprehend his question, still stuck on him seeing you shopping for things a boss should never know about his employees. "Um, whatever, really. I haven't really had one since college."
Hotch nods as if you were talking about a case and not about orgasming on a fucking sex toy. "I see."
You watch in silence as he studies the choices again, fully concentrated. He picks up a packaged dildo, regular colored, and holds it up to inspect it. You watch him eye the silicone dick before placing it back and picking up an identical one, only this one is thicker and wider.
"So ... you ever try one of these before with someone?" you asked, unable to deal with the silence but now wishing you hadn't spoken after that horrible sentence.
Thankfully, he chuckles, eyes not straying from the description on the packaging. "No, I haven't. I never really did have the time or someone who was willing to try something like this out."
"Ahh," you reply like a fucking idiot.
After another few moments of inspecting the dildo, he hands it to you with a smile. You take it instinctively, confused and gobsmacked at the gesture. His eyes are twinkling with amusement and something else you can't place. "That one should be the closest."
It’s about eight inches long, quite thick and has veins decorating the length. The head of it is big and you nearly salivate at the thought of getting off to it tonight.
"The closest to what?"
Hotch just grins in return and starts to turn away and walk out. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun.”
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When you get the chance do you think you could write a Miguel x chubbyF!reader ?
(It's my first time requesting and I wanted to try and give like an idea of it)
Miguel saw the reader in the library and she caught his eye and he went on about what he was doing until he grabbed the same book as her and it just happened to be both of their favorite books and they ended up talking about it and maybe going to a coffee shop after?
The Very Grumpy Spider
Miguel x Chubby/Curvy!Fem!Reader
TW/CW: None
Taglist: @tojishugetiddies
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Miguel was hiding away from the world in the most unlikely of places. It wasn't his home, or his darkened office at HQ, or the labs at Alchemax.
No, it was the library. It hardly had any foot traffic, and the libraries of the world were quickly becoming obsolete with their actual paper books in favor of all the digital files you could simply download online these days.
Which is why it was perfect for him to hide in.
It was quiet, almost no people, and his favorite reading nook had the comfiest chairs. Hell, sometimes he'd sit in the bean bag chairs and nod off a bit.
Today he was browsing the shelves labeled "Classics -- Science Fiction".
His large fingers drummed on the spines of each book as he weighed the decision of which one to read, his glasses perched low on his nose. It seemed silly, that someone who has superpowers would like something as simple as science fiction, but these books were a big escape from the abuse he and his little brother were witness (and in many cases victim) to.
It was also the library he'd run off to back then, too.
It was a sanctuary, a sweet, private Sanctuary.
Miguel was so warped in his thoughts that he didn't notice somebody was now standing right next to him.
Not until a small hand reached out and they both touched the spine of the same book.
An omnibus of sorts containing all the stories of a series called "Dinotopia" by an author named James Gurney, a little over a hundred or so years ago. Miguel as a child had silly fantasies of finding such a place and now the stories were a source of great comfort when the stress of his life became a bit too hard.
"Oh! Sorry!" You say, awkwardly snatching your hand back. "I... Er. Didn't know that anybody else liked... uh, nevermind."
You were... cute. Not obnoxiously made-up like many of the women he's met; you were very minimal makeup and he could even see a few blemishes here and there.
Your body was not rail thin--again, like most women he's known--you were soft, your clothes hugged your body in a way that showed that you had little rolls that spilled over the top of your jeans, your legs and arms a bit on the thicker side, and your round little face definitely set you apart.
And Miguel found himself quickly liking the sight.
He lowered his hand and shook his head with a soft chuckle, "Ah, no, it's alright. I'm surprised anybody even knows these books exist."
You smiled sheepishly up at him, dimples in your soft cheeks as you did. "Yeah... My grandpa used to read these to me when I was little. It's hard to find them nowadays and the copies I had got ruined when my apartment flooded..."
"I used to read them as a kid, myself." Miguel smiled at you as he plucked the book off the shelf, looking at the illustrated cover; protected by a dust jacket but the cover was faded with time, the pages slightly yellowed.
"They were a nice escape."
"Oh! Yeah... They--they are." You say as you watched him turn the book over in his massive hands. Hell, they were so goddamn big that the thick volume looked like a tiny booklet. And oh, did you try to ignore how strong they looked.
Miguel sighed and held the book out to you, "Here. Far be it from me to keep someone from reading a favorite, huh?"
You held your hands up, waving then a bit. "Oh! No, no, um... It's okay. You can read it."
You both stood there, blinking at each other in an awkward silence.
Until you both broke out into soft laughter and Miguel lowered his hand that still clutched the book.
"...We're just going to go back and forth about this, aren't we?" He asked.
"... Probably." You giggled, rubbing the back of your neck.
There was another pause, until you decided to break it.
"Um... well. We can... Talk about it?"
When he tilted his head at you with raised eyes you felt yourself flush. "I--! Well, I just mean that, um... Er. It's unusual to find anybody that knows about that series because it's so old, so, I mean..."
He laughed again, and god, did it sound wonderful as it tumbled out of his lips. He fixed his dark eyes on you and smiled. "Sure. I don't have anywhere to be for the rest of the day."
You swore you could see that his eyes glimmered a different color as he spoke, and your heart slipped a beat.
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
You and Miguel chatted for what must have been close to three hours. You'd even gotten so close as to read the book together; or, well, a few of the stories in it here and there.
You guys had sat so close you could smell his cologne and aftershave.
Meanwhile Miguel could smell your sweet, cherry-like perfume. Hell, he could even smell your lip balm (it had notes of honey) thanks to his super senses.
He loved watching you move, he would often take his eyes from the pages to scan your form, looking at how soft and plush you were. He had the most intrusive thoughts about laying his head in your lap and just letting you run your fingers through his hair as you read the book aloud to him.
Oh, your thighs looked like perfect napping pillows...
He was gorgeous, and he found you absolutely beautiful. You were cute, funny, and quirky, whereas you found him intelligent, witty and kind when he spoke to you.
Something beeped on Miguel's watch and when he looked at it, he grunted. Lyla was asking him when he was going to just ask you out, because apparently she'd been eavesdropping covertly through his watch.
Yeah, it had been hours.
"Is that, um... A call you need to take?" You ask hesitantly.
"No, it's just my assistant checking on me." He turned it off and lowered his wrist, smiling again at you, and he felt something gnaw in his stomach when he saw your hopeful expression.
Fuck it.
"Hey... Would you like to get a coffee?" He finally asked you directly.
And oh, the little error-code face you made was just precious.
"Oh!" You shake your head softly, and smile up at him again. "Sure! I--I mean that is I'm okay with with that, and... uh."
Miguel stood, the book once again in his palm and he extended his hand to you politely to help you out of your seat.
Witty and chivalrous. It made you positively weak in the knees!
"But, um... are you sure?" You ask, following him to the check out counter.
He smiled at you over his shoulder, waving the book.
"Of course. After all, how else are we supposed to finish reading this together?"
#🌙 answered#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel ohara#across the spiderverse
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major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.
will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him
i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)
back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will
but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas
it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!
final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.
as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do
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❛SANTA BABY❜ ( y. jimin )
p. gf!karina x fem!reader w. 0.7k+
— 𖦹 warnings. wlw ( don't like get off my page ), mentions of unsupportive parents, tribbing , dirty talk
— 𖦹 ( spending your christmas with you wonderful girlfriend ) !
8 days of christmas masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
“Wait don’t open them yet.” You girlfriend said. “Rina, I wasn’t going to.” You laughed holding your hands over your eyes. “But you’ve forced me to sit here for five minutes — what could the surprise be?”
You and your beautiful girlfriend had only been together for a few months , and this was your first Christmas as official couple and the first one after you came out to your parents, which didn’t end well — so she was destined to make it the best one yet.
She’d been up since 3 am — she started with breakfast in bed, it wasn’t even a surprise though since you woke up, bit you still stayed in bed per her request. Then you spent the morning opening gifts, which was her basically spoiling you with just about things you had in your many different online shopping carts.
After spending the morning in solitude together, you got ready to go meet her family for the first time — who were amazing and accepted you and welcomed you with open arms, which made you tear up, jimin comforting you.
You guys eventually left, returning back to your apartment — where she rushed you into your room, forcing you to sit down, cover your eyes and wait. “My arms are getting tired.” You whined. “Okay baby open."
You uncovered your eyes, blinking to focus them, your jaw dropping. “Oh wow.” You said at her outfit choice. She was dressed in a very santa outfit, that barely covered anything — a santa hat on top of her head chunky black heels. “You like?”
You nodded, silent due to how gorgeous she looked. “Good, I hoped you would, it’s my last present to you.” She slowly stalked over to where you were on the bed. “gonna be a good girl and listen right?” She cupped your jaw. “Answer me pretty girl.” She grabbed your cheeks, making your lips form a pout. “Y-yes.”
“Good, lay back.” She pushed you gently back, straddling your lap. “So so pretty.” She brought her hand to your boob, squeezing . “R-rina.” You moaned. “that’s I baby, let me hear all those pretty moans.” She said kissing your neck. “gonna fuck you just how you like, just sit back and enjoy.” She took her heels off — along with dress, leaving her in nothing but her underwear and the santa hat.
“Let’s get these.” She reached for your skirt, pulling it down, you sat up quickly taking your shirt off before she pushed you back on the bed, climbing back on top of you, kissing you roughly, squeezing and feeling up your body, your moans being swallowed up by her kisses.
“R-rina please fuck me.” You moaned, she gave you a final kiss before ridding herself of her red underwear, along with yours. “Spread your legs, show me that pretty pussy.” She said, toying with your nipples. “that’s it pretty girl.” She moved to your clit, rubbing it. “you’re so wet for me.”
She held your leg up hooked it with hers, both your clits touching. “Fuck.” She sighed. “Ri-rina please move.” She began to rock her hips slowly, kissing your calf. “Yo-your pussy feels so good.” She moaned. “So fucking wet.”
“Fu-fuck rina, fuck me faster.” You moaned- — she sped up her movements, both of you screaming out in pleasure as your clits rubbed against each other, she reached down, grabbing your hand, guiding it to her boobs. “Touch me.” She moaned, you pinched her nipples, she yelp grabbing you boob returning the favor. “R-rina im gonna fucking cum.”
“Sh-shit me too.” She said, “Cum for me princess, cum all over my pussy make a mess for me.” She rocked her hips even faster. “W-wanna cum with you.” She smiled. “Yeah -fuck- wanna cum together.” You nodded, your orgasm approaching. “Cum with me.”
“Okay princess, hold on then.” She moved even faster, moaning even louder. “Fuck! Fuck im cumming, cum with me princess, fucking cum.” She grabbed your hand, something she always did, both of you moaning as both your orgasms washed over, your girlfriend hunched over, pulling you into a messy kiss.
You both were tangled up in the covers, you cuddled in her arms, your favorite Christmas movie playing in the background as you shared many kisses , and teasing touches. “did you enjoy your christmas princess.” You nodded, kissing her. “My favorite Christmas ever, because you’re here with me.” She smiled, moving a piece of hair out your face.
“As long as im here all your holidays will be perfect, no one can ruin them with me
©️LUVYENI
#aespa x fem reader#aespa x reader#aespa smut#aespa scenarios#aespa fic#karina x fem reader#karina x reader#karina smut#aespa hard hours#kpop x reader#kpop smut#kpop fic#kpop hard thoughts#kpop hard hours#gg smut
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Heyyy I'm sooo happy that you're back ! I hope you're doing ok now ! Make sure to take good care of yourself.☺️
if it's not too much, can we have some Verosika and fizzarolli headcanons with a lil sister reader (platonic obviously)
"Little Sis" ; Fizzarolli, Verosika Mayday
Look. You're probably the only one he actually kept around after the whole incident with the circus and following him into his employment with Mammon.
You get to see him at his absolute worst, when he's struggling with Mammon, the abuse, the exploitation, you get a front-row seat to every breakdown and panic attack.
And he had the desire to keep you out of that life. Forever. So he'd never let you attend any performances or shows where Mammon was present.
You could see him at Ozzie's, see all the cool songs and tricks he could do, but other than that? He didn't want to risk Mammon scouting you as potential talent. He thinks he'd go insane if something ever happened to put you in the position he's in.
"But Fizz, why can't I ever see you at the Clown Pageant?"
"Y/N, it's... It's not a nice place. If it were, I'd let you, but... please. For me, don't argue with me. I don't... want you seeing what I do there."
Of course, reluctantly, you agree. If it's that important to him, he must be being truthful that there are things you'd just rather not see there.
But after Fizz quits? He shows you all the videos online of Ozzie protecting him. :)
Speaking of!! You get to meet and chill with Ozzie! A total gentleman towards both you and your big brother, and you can see the way Fizzarolli's face flushes whenever Ozzie holds his hand or makes a sweet compliment.
Honestly, Asmodeus is one of the few people who's been able to make your brother smile and laugh throughout the duration of his absolute misery.
And of course, it's important for Asmodeus to meet his future sister-in-law!
You've spent your entire life making him happy. And now that he's free, he can finally return the favor. :))
Verosika's sibling? I doubt you're not part of her posse, and therefore, famous alongside her and her clique. Both in Hell and on Earth.
She calls you "sis", "bro", or "sib", depending on what pronouns you use.
"Hey, sib! Coco and Apple and I are going shopping, wanna come? Last one in the car's a fucking virgin."
She's a pretty irresponsible big sister, honestly. She'll swear, make innuendos, and take you places you probably shouldn't be. But the second someone actually tries some shit on you, it's over. Those heels of hers are rather painful when embedded in someone's dick, after all.
You were with her through her breakup with Blitzø, and you, like Fizz's sibling, also got to see her at her worst. Baggy hoodies, runny mascara, ice cream, filthy hair, depression... The works. She never meant for you to see her like that. It was jarring, and she knows it, to see someone so confident and sweet become so broken and petty.
But on the plus side, she ended up giving you a ton of things because she wanted to try and salvage all the relationships she already had, with you, with her posse, hell, probably even with your guys' parents.
She's also super protective of you. As a succubus in Hell, she knows better than almost anyone else how touchy and unwelcomely handsy others can be with your kind. So she always makes sure to have some pepper spray on her, at the very least, plus teaching you the whole 'keys between the fingers' trick.
"Okay, so you stick each of these keys between your fingers... Yeah, like that! And then you punch 'im in the dick. And if it's a lady? Ditch the keys, purple nurple her."
It's honestly a bit eerie how well-versed she is, but hey, it's Hell, a girl's gotta protect herself somehow. And she'll be damned if her little sibling can't do it, either.
You have your spats, but deep down, the both of you love each other. Nothing could change that.
I hope you enjoy never sleeping, though, because damn, her karaoke nights last forever- At least she can sing, I guess-
#helluva boss x reader#verosika x reader#helluva boss verosika#verosika helluva boss#verosika mayday#helluva verosika#Verosika Helluva#hb verosika#fizzarolli#hb fizzarolli#helluva fizzarolli#fizzarolli helluva boss#helluva boss fizzarolli#fizzarolli x reader#helluva boss x you#helluva boss x y/n#helluva x reader#helluva boss#helluvaboss
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Shopping Trip With One Piece Characters
Part of a trade with the awesome @softcenteregg
Doffy
- The very definition of “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”
Has money but you will have to pay for him all day when it comes to lunch and drinks.
Will be sitting at a restaurant at 11 am with a cocktail as he tells you about his week, regardless of if you asked or not.
Checks out the mall hotties.
Laughs when people open push/pull doors wrong.
Always has a cocktail or a Starbucks clutched in one hand, waving his credit card around in the other hand.
Rude to salespeople.
You will be dragged through the mall for hours because he needs to go into every designer shop he can and try on at least seventeen pairs of $400 sunglasses or he’ll die.
Will be the most overdressed person in the area,
When your having lunch with him and he sees someone he doesn’t like, he will be like “Oh hey! Been so long since we hung out, should do it again soon!” then soon as they're gone he’s dishing the dirt.
Also, you will carry his bags, thx.
Roger
Makes you wish you could get those reigns for kids but in adult sizes.
In fact, the entire trip is like taking a child out for his birthday.
Ever seen a huge bearded man grinning in pure glee at the new limited edition Build a Bear products? Ever seen one make like 12?
Do yourself a favor and limit his booze and sugar intake.
Is confused he can’t do a pub crawl in a mall.
Buys alot of those ‘alcoholic chocolates’ by the box load in an attempt to get a nice buzz going.
Thrift shopping but he will try on everything he can.
Does not know how to dress but does it with style, oddly enough.
You won’t get a chance to sit down or rest unless it’s dinner time.
At least he’ll sleep well tonight.
Kid
Hit’s all the stores that sell music and band merch.
Will snort at people who buy things he doesn’t like.
Throws around words like ‘poser’ and judges everyone.
The kinda metal kid who hangs out at the mall with all the wallet chains looking like their parents grounded them, but in their late 20s.
Will spend hours looking for CDs and just say he’s too broke and he’ll download it online anyway.
Walks around the mall trying to find the right shade of lipstick with Killer, both their arms and hands are covered in testers before they both just get more black nail varnish and the same shade they always buy.
Has a reusable plastic cup that's full of jack and coke.
Taunts mall cops.
Killer
Imagine all of the above but he also spends alot of time looking at fancy new cook wear.
Will spend nothing on food all day but will drop $90 on a brand new crockpot or air fryer for the kitchen.
Very metal of him.
Thatch
Thatch is fun to go with.
Treats you, buys the coffee and lunch.
Is happy to do whatever you want as long as he gets to check out homeware sections while you look at your things.
You will never lose him behind shelves because you can always see his hair.
Like Jaws but with hair and ozone layer murdering levels of hairspray.
Will flirt with staff, will get talking to them for far too long, and hold up the line.
The type of person who has alot of change and makes it a personal challenge to count out change exactly.
Will carry your bags though, he’s a good boy.
Bit judgey on eatery places pastries.
Shanks
I hope you enjoy getting nowhere because when you're at a mall with Shanks or out and about in town you will be stopping every ten steps because someone recognises him and comes over and chats.
Has no concept of how long he’s been talking.
Is the type to have a pint with breakfast or brunch when you guys hang out.
Sale on ugly pants? He’d push you down to get there first.
Always texting the gang when he’s out.
Lol Benn guess what, I saw Buggy and he was with that guy, you know, the one with the hook, lol lol
Will drop Uta off at the mall kids' soft play area even though she’s 18 and still forget to pick her up before leaving.
Ace
Low key baits mall cops by loitering around and looking like an issue but has no intention of being an issue.
Might skateboard inside the mall.
Poses with ‘no skateboard’ signs.
Hopefully, there isn't an arcade in the mall because if you had any intention of getting things done today, that won’t happen now.
Hungry every 20 minutes and has to grab snacks.
100% the kinda friend/boyfriend who sits on the seats outside the changing rooms holding all the bags and groaning, acting like it’s the worst thing in the world.
Is one of those people who opens push/pull doors wrong.
Marco
After taking five minutes to park correctly he’s happy to go with the flow.
Likes to have a coffee and a people watch with you, chatty and social.
But he will drag you to shoe stores and you will be sat there for ages as he tries on every strappy sandal in the place, walking up and down and asking you what you think.
“I like this one but I don’t know if it makes me too tall yoi.” while you can’t for the life of you tell the difference between that pair and the last 40.
If you meet him at the mall he might be late, very much the shows up 20 minutes late with Starbucks.
Has a tendency to wander off in shops and you spend half your time looking for him.
Doesn’t give a warning when entering a shop if something shiny caught his bird brain.
Benn
He hates the mall.
Imagine a dad who has to take his teenage daughter clothes shopping and that’d basically be him with Shanks.
Benn is a very ‘I know what I am here for’ in and out kind of person but he doesn’t mind going to other places with you.
Ignores staff-only signs when he knows there is a smoking area on the other side of that door.
Is the person to remind you of the ‘insert thing here we have at home’ and is a shop sensible person, though he won't say anything if you do buy another T-shirt that looks exactly like the one you already have.
Pretends to be annoyed at carrying the shopping, but he offered and he likes to help you out.
If you complain about your feet hurting he’ll helpfully tell you he told you to wear your other shoes.
Sabo and Luffy
Banned
Both have their pictures up in the security office.
Sabo for giving the mall cops the finger, graffiti, and shoplifting.
Luffy peed in the fountain and kept stealing pick-n-mix.
#one piece x reader#one piece reader insert#marco the phoenix#one piece x you#sfw#one piece#portgas d ace#red haired pirates#red haired shanks#fire fist ace#fushichou marco#thatch#ace op#marco op#shanks op#benn op#benn beckman#gol d roger#sabo#sabo the revolutionary#monkey d luffy#monkey d luffy x reader#massacre soldier killer#eustass kid#eustasscaptainkid#doffy#doflamingo#doflamingo x reader
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Shall We Date?: Ignihyde
Heartslabyul - Savanaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomfiore - Diasomnia
How did your first date go?
Idia Shroud - Matching Charms
You knew a first date with Idia would be interesting. After all, you asked him out for a reason.
When he called you one late night, you weren't expecting him to ask you out on a date. You actually weren't sure what to expect since he doesn't ever call you. Most of your conversations were held over text.
He asked that you join him somewhere that weekend. He makes a vow to you, that the two of you will have fun.
What he does not tell you, is that he is taking you off of the Isle of Sages.
He wanted to take you around a city subdivision he loved to visit when he got out of his room, and with a hurried shove through one of the Headmages magic mirrors (he had gotten a favor from the Headmage), you had found yourself in a city of neon lights.
Anime characters on billboards, stores dedicated to claw machines, manga cafes, gachapon and vending machine alleyways. It was all exciting, but also overwhelming.
The two of you finally stopped to look at each other, and you wondered if you were maybe... Too overdressed. Seeing Idia's much more casual outfit, his long flaming hair in a messy braid, paired with an Ita bag of a very obscure anime character was a little jarring.
"Ah... You look amazing."
His voice was soft, and a small smile appeared on his face. You could see the tip of his braid turning pink. He finally told you his plan: to find the perfect matching keychains.
He was jealous of all the normies having ones of mascot characters they didn't even know! He wanted to have something like that with you! He wanted to post about it and show his online friends that you guys were madly in love!
He made you laugh, and you walked hand in hand to view the different gachapon machines and even making your way into some of the different manga shops.
The two of you soon settled on a machine, something you recognize as Sanrio. With the coins purchased and entered, the two of you prayed for a set of matching characters. Specifically My Melody and Kuromi.
Unfortunately.... That was not the case.
Idia had spun and so did you, then choosing to open the capsules together. You had gotten a small plush keychain of My Sweet Piano. Idia had gotten Pekkle. The two of you laughed at the sight, the characters didn't match at all. But to the two of you they did. Idia hung his from his Ita bag, and you had laced yours on the the zipper of your purse.
The both of you began to wonder if it would be a ship or not... My Sweet Piano x Pekkle as you ordered boba, and made your return back to NRC.
#idia shroud x yuu#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland#idia shroud#idia twisted wonderland#idia x reader#idia twst#idia shroud x reader#twst idia#twisted wonderland idia
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New streets
Summary: Trying to find your way into the streets of Barcelona by yourself for the first time is harder than you expected.
Warnings: none ❤️
Being new to the city was complicated. You moved from Tenerife to go to college in Barcelona, accepting Pedro's offer to move with him until you find your own place to stay.
You can't deny Barcelona was extraordinary, a city that has a lot of history, it's magical.
The problem is that you convinced yourself that you can start going out on your own without instructions.
When Pedro asked you to wait for him to arrive home so you could go to the market, you say no.
You already felt like a burden, having him drive you everywhere and not being able to do the same for him.
Fer even offer to take you and show you the streets, in any other occasion you'll say yes, but today you feel smart enough to do it alone.
"Estas segura?" (Are you sure?) Fer asked a little worried about you. "Si me dejas terminar con esto, te acompaño" (if you let me finish this, I'll go with you)
"Tranquilo Fer, voy rápido" (relax Fer, I'll be quick), you say, grabbing your things, ready to go. "Quieres que te traiga una Dr. Pepper?" (Want me to bring you a Dr. Pepper?")
"Por favor," he says, smiling. "Ten cuidado, cualquier cosa me llamas niña." (Be careful, call me if anything happens, kiddo.)
Once you're out of the house, you search on Google maps the closest market.
As you make your way down the street, you enjoy the views. Barcelona is breathtaking.
You were happy with how quickly you made it to the market.
Taking your phone to message Pedro, wanting to share your excitement with him.
(I know you're training and you'll see this later, but I have to tell you something 😋
I'm at the market, I got here alone and didn't get lost)
You block your phone and continue with your shopping spree, looking for the soda you said you were buying for Fer.
Your phone takes you out of your concentration when you are reading the back of a soda can.
("Hi baby ❤️ Actually I'm done with training.
😂😂😂😂 I'm happy for you"
"Do you want me to buy something for you?"
"No baby, I'm fine.
I'm noticing you're very close to the training camp. Do you want to come over here and then we go home?")
Not completely sure about it you Google the directions to get to where he was.
The trip to the market was easy due to it being an almost straight walk. The training camp was a more complicated way.
After a few minutes looking at the online map, you decide it was not that difficult, and you could do it.
("See you in a bit, I just have to pay, and I'm on my way. "
"I'll wait for you, please be careful")
You hurried with the last items and paid on a self checkout to be quick.
You followed the instructions as the map says, but you also decide to trust a little more than you should and text your friend.
After a few minutes, you noticed you were, in fact, not where you should be. You frown as the map says it's the right way, seconds mistake trusting that. You kept walking and texting, only losing the way more than before.
Ten minutes later and a different name on the streets as the gps says you begin to worry.
Not wanting to worry your boyfriend, you text Fernando.
("Remember I told you I was not going to get lost? ... Help")
You kept walking, trying to fix your mistake, little did you know you were making it worse.
("But 🤣🤣🤣🤣 you were getting five things at the supermarket, how did you end up lost?"
"Don't laugh at me, Fernando. I wanted to get over where your brother is, and I ended up lost"
"I can't help but laugh. Where are you right now?
"I don't know")
You tried to identify the streets to be able to tell where you were, no success.
The stress was getting over you, feeling dumb.
("Calm down, what stores are near you?"
"The Mercè library"
"You're on the other side of the camp, y/n")
The frustration was getting the best of you. Texting and walking on a road you didn't know was a bad choice.
The internal debate your mind was creating over two options, one, Fernando can give you instructions on how to take a bus or something, two, ask him what to do from now on.
Choosing the second option, you kept texting him.
("Any recommendations?"
"Yes, stay there and call Pedro, ask him to pick you up, please don't get lost.")
Sitting on a bench outside the library, you call your boyfriend.
"Preciosa, ya estas afuera?" (Baby, are you outside?)
"No, amor. Estoy por la biblioteca, del otro lado de donde estas." (No, love. I'm by the library on the other side of the city.)
"Qué pasó? Estas bien?" (What happened? Are you okay?)
"Si, estoy bien. Es que." (Yes, I'm fine. Is just.)
You doubt telling him the truth.
You know you don't have to be nervous over him knowing you're lost. Pedro would never judge you or make fun of you.
"Me perdí" (I got lost)
"Ay, mi amor. Esta bien, ahora voy por ti, quédate quieta que ya llego por ti." (Oh love, it's okay, I'm coming to get you, stay where you're I'm coming.)
You hang up after a small "Thank you."
Picking a candy from your grocery bag while waiting for him.
Your phone started ringing, it was Fer.
"Hola"
"Hola, llamaste a Pedro?" (Did you call Pedro?)
"Si, ya viene por mi, gracias." (Yes, he's coming to get me, thank you.)
Fernando senses the disappointment in your voice. As much as he wants to joke about it, he knows you wanted to do things on your own, not wanting to bother him or his brother.
"Ey no te pongas triste, es normal que esto pase, eres nueva en la ciudad y para ser tu primera vez sola no fue nada mal. Llegaste a la tienda por ti sola." (Hey, don't be sad. This is normal. You're new here, and for being your first time going alone, you did it great. You got to the market all by yourself.)
That makes you feel a little better.
"Gracias, te veo en un rato cuando Pedro y yo lleguemos." (Thank you, see you in a bit when Pedro and I get there.)
"Vale, los espero" (okay, I'll wait for you)
While you waited for your boyfriend to arrive, you saw the cars passing and finished your candy.
After a good ten minutes, you saw the black Maserati parking in front of you. Pedro pulled the window down smiling.
"Uber para la señorita más hermosa de España" (uber for the most beautiful lady in Spain)
You can't help the smile. He knows how to light up your mood.
"Gracias, pero no pedí un uber, de hecho estoy esperando a mi novio" (thank you, but I actually didn't order an Uber. I'm waiting for my boyfriend.)
"Bueno pero igual te puedo llevar, descuidado te deja esperando, te podrían robar" (well, I can still take you, careless dude, leaves you waiting someone could stole you)
You laugh and open the car door.
As you got in, he took the grocery bag and placed it onto the back seat.
"Hola preciosa," he says before kissing you.
The kiss was getting a little more heated than you expected, but the sound of a car horn made you separate but not before giving him a small kiss.
"Gracias por venir por mi" (thanks for coming for me)
You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of his hand.
"No agradezcas, mejor dime como acabaste hasta acá" (don't thank me, tell me how did you end over here?)
You tell him with details how you got lost. He laughed but did the same thing Fernando did, reassured you it was okay.
Once you arrived at his house he helped you with the grocery bag.
Fernando was waiting for the two of you with some dinner ready.
"La pequeña Dora la exploradora regreso de su aventura" (little Dora the explorer came back from adventure.) He says as he hugs you.
"No la molestes" (don't make fun of her)
Pedro tried not to laugh at the jokes his brother was saying, but even you were laughing.
"Sigue así y tomaras agua del bater, capullo" (keep up, and you'll drink toilet water, idiot). You laugh as you organize the groceries.
After helping with setting the table, the three of you ate and laughed at jokes Fernando was telling.
You offered to wash the dishes as Pedro took a shower and Fernando organize something in his room.
You were concentrated in the song that was playing in the background, but a pair of hands on your waist take you back to reality.
"Me alegro que estés bien y que lograras llegar a la tienda y ahora sabes también llegar a la biblioteca" (I'm happy you're okay and that you got to get to the market, now you know how to get to the library too) Pedro joke kissing your shoulder.
"Eres un pesado, amor" (you're an asshole, love), you laugh. "Tal vez para el partido llegue al camp nou por mi cuenta" (maybe for the match I'll get to Camp Nou by myself).
"Por ahora tratemos de quedarnos cerca, no quiero tener que parar el partido para ir por ti." (Let's get close for now, I don't want to have to stop the match to come get you) he jokes.
"Acepto" (deal), you say, tuning around to kiss him.
Just like the kiss in the car, this one was getting a little more heated than necessary, but you weren't complaining.
"Consigan un cuarto o pierdanse." (Get a room or get lost) Fernando joked.
You two laugh, hugging.
Even though your first experience by yourself was not the best, it was not bad at all. You had two boys who will do everything to protect you and you were thankful for both.
#football drabble#football fanfic#football x you#football angst#football smut#pedri#pedri x you#pedri x reader#pedri smut#pedri x y/n#pedri icons#pedri imagine#pedri drabble#pedri gonzalez#pedri gonzalez imagine#fc barcelona#fc barca#barca#football
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succession but bruce wayne is 45 and tired of having to attend pointless board meetings when he’d much rather be plotting how to get rid of all the stupid money he has (he’s tried everything, invested all of his funds into gotham, secretly funded the justice league and hid it from his tax returns in hopes that the irs would bust him. spoiler: they don’t, they consider his anonymous donations to be charity AND WRITE HIM TAX BREAKS. he’s even given everyone at WE a living wage, offered free daycare, amazing healthcare, in hopes of making running WE so expensive it drives down profits, but all it does it ramp of productivity and stock prices. he’s in too deep. let one of his children handle it pls).
candidate #1: dick grayson-wayne, bruce wayne’s eldest boy, former cop, circus acrobat, college dropout and style icon (TM). he immediately takes himself out of the running when a pap keeps calling him “richard” and he shouts back “dick.” that’s his name, but no one cares. also his pics from his mullet era resurface. the world is never the same again and the board summarily agrees he’s too divisive.
candidate #2: jason todd-wayne. initially the main contender when alleged footage of him breaking into a very important wayne warehouse leaks. he’s shouting “reclaim the means of production.” wayne enterprise stock falls but the internet is in favor. he’s unfortunately taken out of the running as all legal records indicate—he’s dead? but there’s cute footage of a 13 year old jason todd ardently defending the historical accuracy and superb writing of jane austen’s pride and prejudice. he loudly proclaims he’ll marry mr. darcy at the end. his candidacy remains very popular and the internet starts publishing memes about converting to satanism and practicing necromancy to revive jason todd-wayne.
candidate #3: tim drake. a popular front runner for the old guard of gotham as tim’s also the heir of the drake fortune. unfortunately, he runs away screaming every time someone comes up to him asking about the possibility of taking over WE full time. a major scandal breaks out when he’s caught buying something in a shady alleyway, and people are convinced he’s another partying rich boy. until the full footage leaks and it’s revealed he was buying coffee beans from a barista in the alleyway behind a newly opened coffee shop. multiple coffee shops then make posts online that yes, bruce wayne has called each of them and offered them copious sums of money to NOT serve tim drake or anyone representing tim drake caffeinated drinks after 5pm and before 5pm. many of the videos feature framed photographs of fake wanted posters featuring a very tired looking tim. tim, on a caffeine withdrawal posts a tiktok ranting about the injustice of tyrannical parents think this energy:
and the hashtag save tim wayne trends.
candidate #4: damian wayne. except as a twelve year old he’s not really in the running, except he’s the only wayne by blood so some members of the board are gunning for him. one of them kidnaps him, huge mistake, and footage leaks of him chasing his kidnappers with a katana? appears. he’s officially out of the running but it also fuels calls for bruce to be liberated so he can actually parent his children. joke’s on them, damian’s damianess is 99% thanks to richard grayson.
candidate #5: cassandra cain-wayne. she takes herself out of the running but she’s a dark horse because everyone loves her youtube channel Cass Cayne and her business decisions for brand deals are top tier. bruce makes background appearances and the internet learns cass is def the favorite.
candidate #6: stephanie brown. she’s not a wayne? people think? are 99% sure? but like she’s always there? she dated tim drake? maybe? she calls bruce dad!
#batman#bruce wayne#dc#batman comics#batman characters#richard grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#batman headcanon#batman fic#fanfic prompt
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So long/odd request but hear me out
Mc and Lucifer are in a sugar-rotting relationship and brothers and undatebles react
Lucifer spoils Mc so much like…mammon gets in trouble he gets hung from the ceiling Mc does the same thing they get away scot-free Satan has been begging for a cat for eons nope! but Mc wants one of course. He gets them tons of expensive gifts and if Mc ever wants something they only have to bat their eyes at him. It's not like Mc is using him though they dot on him a bunch too. And whenever they get in a fight loud moans are followed within a few minutes (if you know what I mean) but feel free to ignore 💙
I was in the middle of class when I read this and I was WHEEZING
I am a firm believer in Lucifer spoiling the MC rotten and leaving his brothers to fend for them damn selves but denying any sort of favoritism
I only did the brothers this time, I hope that's okay 😭😭😭
Sorry this took so fooking long to make 🥲
Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~
Click here if you wanna request!
Warnings: Very suggestive, jealous bros lmao L
Enjoy.
You and Lucifer had been dating for a few months now. Though, one would think you'd just gotten together with the way the two of you treated eachother. Or maybe that you were newlyweds in your honeymoon phase.
Lucifer treated you like a goddess. There was constant praise and worship, he'd drop everything if you asked, and he'd spoil you rotten with his love. You would return the favor, of course. Every now and then you'd surprise him with a new cursed vinyl, which he'd listen to all night if not spending it with you.
However, the brothers believe that you're getting totally unfair treatment.
Mammon
Baby boy was spending a lot more money than usual
He was playing a new gambling game he'd downloaded on his D.D.D.
When Lucifer got home, he immediately scolded the second-born for a solid 45 minutes
He announced that Mammon was on "lock-down" and wasn't allowed to ask anything of anyone, nor was he allowed to spend money
He was hung from the ceiling
And Goldie was taken away, too
Mammon was pissed the fuck off
So, when he noticed you were spending a lot more money, he did tease you for being greedy
"Oi, human, ain't splurgin' on shopping supposed to be mine and Asmo's thing? Lucifer's gonna be on yer ass if ya spend too much. Just be careful."
He says this and is genuinely a little worried that he'd see you hung from the ceiling as well
Lucifer confronts you about it in front of Mammon
"My Love, may I know why you've been spending so much grimm recently?"
First off, Mammon didn't like how he started that
How come you got that sweet conversation starter?
What he got was, "Mammon, what have you been wasting your money on this time?!"
Though, he still suspected it'd go downhill, and that he'd need to jump in to protect you at some point
"Oh, just some things... I can't tell you what they are, but I promise this is a rare occasion, Luci." You said, gifting him a kiss on his cheek
Lucifer smiled at you. "Alright, as long as you're being responsible, I trust you."
...
WHAT?!
"WHAT?!" Mammon shouted, earning a slight jolt from you and a look of annoyance from Lucifer
"What, Mammon?"
The Avatar of Greed froze. "I-I-! Y-You—" He paused before letting out a small groan
"Nevermind. Forget about it, yeah?"
Leviathan
Snekboi missed roughly a week of school and wasn't attending his online classes
He was grinding this new game he got so he could keep his spot as one of the top players!
He just couldn't afford to take his attention off of his D.D.D. for a second, the price would be too high!
Of course, Levi ended up being scolded by Lucifer
"Your priority must be your studies, Levi, do you intend on dragging Diavolo's name through the mud?"
How Diavolo was relevant was beyond him
But, Levi still had to sit through a lecture
He also got his D.D.D. taken away from him for a week
Not only did he lose top-spot, but he lost a majority of his self-esteem as well
So, he was obviously worried when you started skipping as well
"Uhh, MC, I'm not sure you should stay home today. Lucifer's not too kind to those who slack off."
But, his warnings fell upon deaf ears
You decided to take a few days off, deciding that you just really didn't feel like going to RAD
You woke up with a migraine one day, couldn't get sufficient sleep the other, and you just took another day to catch up on sleep and what work you had
Leviathan actually tried to stop Lucifer when he saw him outside of your room
"Lucifer, maybe they were feeling really bad or something, I don't think punishing them is a good idea, please show mercy! They're just a human!"
"Quit your whining, Levi. Or do you want to be given the Mammon treatment?"
This made Levi yelp and cower behind him, watching as Lucifer knocked on your door
You answered it, and Leviathan bit his nails nervously
"Hey, Luci," You said, greeting him with a small kiss to the cheek
"My Love," He started softly. "Are you feeling alright? You haven't been attending your classes. Is something wrong?" He asked, a hand reaching up to caress your cheek.
Error 404 not found
Leviathan.exe has stopped working
You smile sweetly. "I'm okay, Lucifer, I just really wasn't feeling up for RAD these past couple of days. It's nothing to worry about, promise!" You say, quite enthusiastically.
...
NANI THE FUCK?!
Levi SWORE you were about to get bodied
But, no
Lucifer just smiled, chuckled softly, and left with an "Alright, take care of yourself, Love."
Bullshit
You're fucking hacking
Satan
Satan wanted to bring a cat into the HoL
Lucifer reminded him of how he brought more cats than were allowed and "turned the House of Lamentation into the House of Cats"
Very fucking salty about it, but ultimately got over it (for the most part)
He saw you bring a little feline home and immediately rushed to your side to help you take care of it
It was a stray with a few wounds from other cats
He helped you bandage it and feed it, all the goods
"MC, I must warn you that Lucifer isn't exactly fond of pets... Let alone cats," Satan said, stern gaze meeting yours
You tilted your head in confusion. "Why is that?"
Satan was a bit hesitant to tell you, so he gave you the shortened and sweet version
"We had a bit of a cat problem a while back, he just really doesn't like cats. Dog people, am I right?" He scoffed
"Satan, what did I say about bringing in cats?"
Satan lowkey jumped a bit and turned his head
The fuck did he come from, bro is teleporting or some shit
You immediately hold the kitty close to your arms, looking up at Lucifer with doe eyes
"Luci, I'm sorry! I was the one who took in the cat, but he was hurt! Please, can we just keep it for a little while, at the very least?" You begged, the black cat in your arms meowing at Lucifer
Satan sighed. He was about to tell you that it was no use, that Lucifer couldn't be bought or reasoned with on this topic. That may have been his fault and he was sorry, but there was absolutely no way Lucifer would budge on this-
"Fine."
...
...
Um
What
Satan sat there dumbfoundedly before the two of you as you continued to converse, trying to process the events that had just taken place
Lucifer said yes
To you
For a cat?
Huh...
He was upset for a mere moment, but then a light bulb went off in his mind
Perhaps he could use this to an advantage
Satan's definitely going to try and get you to be a wild card whenever him and Belphie are pulling pranks on Lucifer
Just so the eldest will be a little more lenient
Now he knew Lucifer's weakspot
He found himself laughing maniacally in his mind as he realized just how much him and Belphegor could do with you as a cushion whenever they'd get in trouble
Asmodeus
"But, Lucifer, all of products in my favorite cosmetic brand are going on sale today! I have to get every single one of them or else I'll be..." Asmodeus gasped
"Trashy!!" He cried out, practically leeching off of Lucifer's arm as he continued to beg
"Asmodeus, no! You and Mammon are both on lockdown for the rest of the month! Now, get off of me!"
Lucifer managed to pry his younger brother off of him and slammed ether door shut to his office, leaving a near-on sobbing Asmodeus in the library
That's when he heard you
"Lucifer, must you always be so rough on your siblings?" He heard you ask, making him gasp and sigh dreamily. "Oh, darling, you always come to my rescue when I need it!" He said, his voice not loud enough to penetrate the door
"MC, I suggest staying out of my family matters. They have nothing to do with you."
Asmodeus could tell from the other side of the door that an argument was likely about to ensue
However, when the two of you started raising your voices, he could also sense some... Arousal?
"Oh!"
"Oh."
It wasn't long before he could hear your moans and whimpers from the other side of the door, lewd slapping noises making him step back a bit
Asmodeus couldn't help but giggle a little
He honestly didn't mind this as much as his brothers did, he found it really entertaining that the two of you endulged in his sin after such a heated argument
Asmodeus approves 👍💖
Beelzebub
Poor baby gets scolded so often for raiding the fridge, especially late at night
He's usually told to go to bed, and that these late-night trips to the fridge aren't good for him, all that
He couldn't help it, it was his sin! That was no fair!
Lucifer ended up putting him on lockdown after 11pm, meaning no trips outside of his room whatsoever
Beelzebub would usually try to get some snacks into his room before that time, but he usually ran out rather quickly and was left with a rumbling stomach
That's when you came in, holding two arm-fulls of snacks
Quietly, you pushed the door closed with your foot
You knew Belphegor was a heavy sleeper, but you still wanted to be quiet anyway, so as not to wake the Avatar of Sloth
You saw the gluttonous ginger perk up when he saw you
"MC?"
You smiled, dropping down the snacks before him
"Lucifer didn't say I couldn't raid the kitchen. I figured you'd be hungry, so I got you some snacks."
Bro bear-hugs you
He lowkey almost breaks your spine with how tight he holds you
"Thank you, MC! Can I call you sister, please? Get married to him quick so I can call you sister!"
You blushed at this comment, chuckling softly
"I'm working on it, I guess," You choked playfully, patting his back
"Beel, I need to breathe."
Not really all too jealous
A bit sad, but he gets over it when you bring him food
Lucifer never says anything about it tho when he finds out you're the one who's causing such a snack shortage
Belphegor
He was constantly scolded for pulling all kinds of pranks on Lucifer
There was that time he threw his D.D.D. in the trash, lit his coat on fire
All harmless things
So, when he catches you attaching a can of whipped cream to... Something in the fridge, he immediately raises a brow at you
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Ahhh, just setting up a little surprise," You chuckled out
At first, he thinks it's for Beelzebub, but Asmodeus had taken him shopping with him earlier with the promise of free food afterward
"For..." Belphie trailed off, hearing footsteps nearing the kitchen
Immediately you close the fridge and take your seat in front of a plate of food you'd made yourself earlier. "Sit down," You whispered to the Avatar of Sloth
As he shuffled to a seat next to you, he realized what you were up to and put a hand over his mouth
Lucifer walked into the kitchen, greeting you and the youngest with a smile and a "Good morning."
You picked up a piece of the pancakes in front of you with a fork, putting it in your mouth and humming to yourself. "Luci? Could you pass me the butter?" You asked softly
Lucifer nodded, turning and opening the fridge
Immediately, whipped cream sprayed all over his face, some falling onto his chest
Belphegor bursted into a fit of laughter, immediately giving you a high-five and wiping a tear from his eye as he clutched his stomach
"Oh, that was good!" He choked out in between laughs
Lucifer turned to look at the youngest, wiping off a large portion of the whipped cream on his face
"Belphegor, did you do this?"
You snickered beside him, looking up at Lucifer
"I thought you'd like a snack, Luci~" You hummed out, giggling softly
Belphegor mentally prepared himself for a 45 minute lecture
There was a pause, making him shift a bit in his seat as his laughter died down
Suddenly, Lucifer began to laugh
It started out small
Then, his laughter boomed in the room, bouncing off of the walls
"Huh,"
This confused the fuck out of Belphie
Like, ummmm what
"You've gotten me, MC, well done. I needed that laugh." He said, walking over to you and wiping some whipped cream off of him, putting it on your nose
He dismissed himself, saying he was going to wash this off of him
Belphegor was silent for a moment
"Hm?"
"You get laughter and boops after pranks and I get lectures and scoldings... Favoritism at it's finest. The Anti-Lucifer League could make use of this."
He'd explain more, but he was getting too sleepy
Shit was fun asf to write, thanks for requesting
I hope you enjoyed this, anon!
#obey me mc#obey me#lucifer obey me#obey me hcs#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer hcs#lucifer swd#obey me mc x lucifer#obey me lucifer fluff#obey me fluff
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🪨Venture (OW II) x (fem) reader ⛏️
(Gamer Girl Reader Edition!)
(Picture’s not mine!)
(Request here! Yeah so, here’s this! Not much to add, I’ll probably start working on the Junkrat headcanons now there aren’t any more asks for Venture at the moment)
- I think the idea of Venture, a very outdoorsy and adventurous person with you, a girl who is more inclined to stay inside and play your games could be really cute :))
- Despite their keen interest in getting out of there and exploring they’d happily stay inside to spend some time playing games, especially with you!
- In their opinion, it’s like exploring whole new world’s without the hassle of exerting themselves physically (they like doing it nonetheless ofc) besides giving themselves a hand cramp or two.
- If there’s a game you especially like in particular, they take notice and either play it with you or play it later if it’s single-player only— 80% chance of them becoming obsessed with it as well.
- Lore??? Yes please, they want it so bad that they can make a billboard of everything so they can try to “crack” the game franchise.
- 100% buys merch for you AND themselves, cause I feel like they’d do it either due to them wanting to be supportive or partaking in the games fandom themselves.
- Specifically, I think they’d like certain games such as:
- Tomb Raider: I mean, look at it— It has artifacts, parkour, and a badass main character (I can see them crushing on Lara Croft as a little kid, can and will die if you ever cosplay as her). Self-explanatory.
- Minecraft: Endless possibilities, worlds, scenarios, they can make blocky replicas of real-life historical architecture— “…You wanna put our Minecraft beds together?”
- Spore: A little more niche with this one but this game is all about literally building up an organism and giving them culture and civilizations, come on they’d totally love a game like this… Dig it even.
- Assassin's Creed Unity: This game literally helped with the reconstruction of THE Notre Dame— THAT’S how accurate and intricate the amount of detail that went into the world-building of this game is. It’s like a love letter to them.
- Stardew Valley: As much as they like adventure (and Stardew provides that in the mines anyway) it’s nice to play a game that’s focused on something as simple yet intricate as this… That and I know a clueless player who still has fun regardless when I see one.
- BG3: It has adventure, mystery, a medieval aura, great character dialogue, and animal companions that are all so different and so charming… A large, HOT, silly tiefling woman (again if you cosplay as her they will not recover) who could throw them against the wall like they’re a bag of half-empty chips. 10/10.
- ANYWAYS, back on you two, if you make time to do what they like they’ll do so in return. Making an effort as they try to get a few pointers from the Queen of gaming herself— D.Va.
- Helps happily of course thinks y’all are adorable and reassures Venture that when she’s done with them they’ll know everything there is to know when it comes to dating a gamer girl. It’s so fucking stupid but the intent that Sloane had for wanting to impress you is still apparent.
- The information helps surprisingly, to woo you successfully, which D.Va actively boasts about whenever she can after asking how y’all are doing.
- For sure goes on mall dates with you to get gaming stuff, prefers it over online shopping. Buying things like shirts over your shared favored games, and sharing them. Loves to be able to smell you on them (not in a creepy way) while away at work for a prolonged period.
- Loves to distract you from playing your games, sitting behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as they lean against your back, head either on your shoulder or the top of your head.
- Sometimes feeling a bit flirty and kissing the back of one of your ears, rubbing your sides, mumbling honeyed and lustful words, things like “You look gorgeous to me right now mi corazón, how about you put that controller down and let me prove it?”
- They’re like a spoiled cat when it comes to your attention, I would know because I have three, and one is currently making my other arm fall asleep.
(There!! Sorry if this came out a little later than it should’ve, I’m a little exhausted from some real stuff, and I stayed up over midnight for this one. The Venture effect lol)
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The True Story: An Epistolary Novelette
An intrusive fantasy story for @inklings-challenge
I. Christine Hendry to the proprietor of Wright and Co.
Sir or Madam:
I feel like such a fool for reaching out to you--a stranger whose business card happened to be tucked in the pages of an ancient book on my grandmother's shelf. I don't even know if your shop exists anymore; signs are against it, because I can't find so much as a phone number to contact you by. Nothing but an address and a name: Wright and Co.: Specialists in Rare, Antique, and Nonexistent Books.
That last category is the only reason I'm bothering to write at all. I'm looking for what seems to be a nonexistent book, so I may as well try writing to a shop that may or may not be real.
When I was a little girl, my grandmother read to me from a copy of Song of the Seafolk by Marjorie A. Penrose. It was an American children's fantasy from--I believe--the 1950s, all about a family getting mixed up with mermaids on a tiny Atlantic island. It had beautiful black-and-white illustrations, and language so lyrical that I still remember passages even though I haven't read it in nearly twenty years. My grandmother loved it to bits, and read it to me a dozen times after I came to live with her. I went off to college, and jobs, and travel, and I haven't much thought about that book--or, to be honest, my grandmother--since I left the house.
But now Grandma has a broken hip, and there's no one else to care for her, so I've come back. The moment I stepped back into that house, I found I wanted nothing more than to read that book. To her, if possible. I need to return the favor.
But the book is nowhere to be found. I've searched through all her bookshelves (extensive), closets (messy), and storage boxes (many and varied), to no avail. I resigned myself to the necessity of buying a new copy, but there are no new copies for sale. Or any old copies. None in any library. Not even a hint of its existence online. All my inquiries to cashiers and librarians have been met with blank stares. It seems like no one in the world has even heard of that book except my grandmother and me.
So I write to you from sheer desperation. A cry into the void. If your shop does exist, and you are a real person, is there any chance in the world that you have the book I want? Knowing now how rare the book apparently is, I shudder to think of the price you'd charge, but as long as I don't have to sell any limbs to pay for it, I find myself willing to pay almost any price. Of course, that's assuming you're a real person reading this, and you by some miracle have the book, and you haven't thrown this letter away while sneering at the lunatic who wrote it.
If all those things somehow manage to be true, please write back to me at this address, and I assume we'll be able to arrange some method of payment.
Yours, in desperation,
Christine Hendry
II. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Miss Hendry:
I am pleased to inform you that Wright and Co. does still exist, and it maintains its specialty of supplying books that can be found nowhere else. It is unsurprising that you were unable to locate a second copy of the book, because a glance through our sales records show that the book was purchased from this very shop in 1968 (which is likely why your grandmother was in possession of our business card), and comes from our specialized stock of books that exist nowhere else in the world.
These books tend to appear on our shelves at unpredictable times, and rarely in batches of more than one or two, so I feared I would be unable to grant your request. Yet I have sometimes found that these books appear in response to a need, so I searched the shelves, and to my delight, found the book tucked into a corner of our children's section.
The books from our special selection sometimes wander back to our store's shelves when they are no longer needed by their purchasers, and it appears that this is what happened in this case, because the book I found bears signs of ownership by a Mrs. Dorothy Hendry. Since I cannot charge you for your own book, I have taken the liberty of shipping the copy of Song of the Seafolk along with this letter.
I humbly beg your forgiveness for the suffering this has caused, and I sincerely hope Wright and Co. will be able to serve you in any future literary needs.
Faithfully yours,
Benjamin Wright
III. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Mr. Wright:
I'm glad you couldn't see how red my face got when I received your response. It's one thing to send a letter when there's a miniscule chance of a reply, but getting a reply and knowing that a real, living person read your words is a very different (mortifying) thing. I would never have written that letter the way I did if I had fully comprehended that it was going to be read by a complete stranger.
My only consolation is that my letter wasn't half as strange as your reply. What do you mean, the books appear on the shelves and wander back? How on Earth did you send me a copy of my own book??
Because you're right--it's the exact copy I remember from my childhood. The same purple clothbound cover with the mermaid and lighthouse stamped into it. The same jelly stain inside the back cover. Page 54 has a torn corner, and the mermaid on page 126 has a unibrow penciled onto her face. Even if my grandmother hadn't written her name in the cover, I'd have known it for the same book. Yet she would never have donated--or even sold--Song of the Seafolk, even after I moved away. She loved it too much.
Yet somehow you sent it to me. I'm so grateful that I won't even accuse you of sending a ring of book thieves to raid my grandmother's shelves.
I read the book to my grandmother this weekend, and it was like the years fell away, and we were back in the warm glow of my childhood bedroom, completely at ease with the world. The pain medication leaves Grandma foggy sometimes, but there were several points when she smiled, closed her eyes, and recited the book along with me word for word. I'd try to repay you in some way for facilitating that, but some things are priceless.
However you got the book, it seems to prove you're able to achieve the impossible, and because of that, I'm going to bother you with another request. Grandma loves fantasy, but her true love is mystery novels. She has a whole bookshelf devoted to them, mostly Golden Age paperbacks--country house novels, a smattering of noir. I feel like there's so little joy in her life right now, but the one thing I could provide would be a new mystery. Yet, looking at her shelves, I suspect that she's read every book of this type that exists. So I'm going to ask you to live up to that Nonexistent in your name and find me a Golden-Age-esque mystery that no one--not even Grandma--has read yet. If you can achieve that, I would be grateful for whatever you can send me.
Yours with gratitude,
Christine Hendry
IV. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Miss Hendry:
I am afraid I can answer very few of your questions as to the workings of this shop, at least when it comes to our specialized stock. Among the shelves of Wright and Co., there will on occasion appear a book which no employee has ordered--books with unfamiliar titles by unfamiliar authors, which have the appearance of age and wear, but cannot be found in any other shop, and have no history of publication by any firm. Yet there is always a reader--sometimes several, if the shop staff takes to reading it--who finds that it perfectly satisfies their tastes and fills some unmet need, as if the book was dreamt up just for them. These books seem to come into existence just when needed, and sometimes wander away when they're not.
We have several theories about the origins of these books, very few of them sensible. Perhaps they come from other worlds, where history went just a bit differently from ours. Perhaps they are books that authors dreamed up but never wrote. Perhaps they are spontaneously created in response to a reader's desires. I have learned not to question it. I merely accept the books as a gift--and bestow them as gifts to those in need.
To that end, I have honored your request for a mystery. Though I've no doubt there are many more ordinary books that could fulfill your desire (any seller of used books could tell you that this genre is far more extensive than most individual readers suspect), there is a book that appeared on our shelves last autumn that I feel will exactly fit your grandmother's tastes. The Wings of Hermes by Elizabeth Tern casts Oxford don Joseph Quill in the role of amateur sleuth, as he is pulled into the intrigue surrounding a piece of ancient Greek statuary. Quill is a very literary detective, in the vein of Gamadge or Wimsey, though his story has a touch of noir and more than a tinge of melancholy. I feel the book will be satisfying to a woman who has been a patron of our shop, and I hope it will fulfill its intended role of aiding in her recovery.
Yours faithfully,
Benjamin Wright
V. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Darling Benjamin,
Do you think I'm stupid? Or are you just insane? Do you expect me to swallow all that rigamarole about magic teleporting books? If it's a joke, you tell it with an alarmingly straight face, and frankly, it seems in poor taste (and poor business practice) to dump it all onto unsuspecting customers. If you don't want to explain how you got my book, fine--I'm sure it's a boring story involving mistaken donations or something--but I wish you wouldn't insult my intelligence by making up some whimsical fairy tale.
But for all that, I can't fault your taste in books. The Wings of Hermes was stupidly good. Grandma LOVED it. I stayed up until nine at night reading it with her--which is practically the middle of the night by her standards--because she was so desperate to know the culprit. It's a cut above most of the books on her shelf, and it's taken a place of pride there.
You weren't kidding about the melancholy. Grandma didn't mind--she was too wrapped up in the mystery--but I'll admit it got a bit depressing for my taste in places. The world seems dark enough right now--Grandma's hip isn't healing as well as we'd like. I'm having trouble adjusting to the move, and balancing work with Grandma's care is getting a touch overwhelming. I don't need fictional darkness on top of that.
What I need is something to lift my spirits. I've searched Grandma's shelves, and though she has plenty of comedies, there's nothing that catches my attention for more than a few pages, or elicits more than a wan smile. I don't know if there's a book in the world that could cheer me at the moment, but if any shop could supply it, I suppose yours can. Do you have anything like that? If you could, please send it my way.
At least, if you're willing to send it to a sponge. It seems you forgot to bill me for my last book, so if I have to settle the debt first, please let me know the price and I'll pay up. But please spare me the fairy tales.
Yours in respect,
Christine Hendry
VI. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Miss Hendry:
Your skepticism about the origins of our shop's unique books is understandable. Yet I told you the honest truth in response to an honest question. Any of our shop's past or present employees, and many of our long-term customers, would be able to verify the truth of my account. I do not typically disclose the story to new patrons, but your long history with Song of the Seafolk led me to believe you were already among those who would value it, and perhaps the faceless nature of letter-writing prompted more than usual candor. I apologize for your confusion, but I do not retract so much as a syllable of what I've said. I have told you only the truth as I know it. You may believe or doubt as you desire, but I would ask that you fling no further insults toward my honesty or my sanity.
In light of the struggles weighing upon you, the staff of Wright and Co. have forgiven any insulting insinuations, and are only too glad to do what we can to ease your burden. We have honored your request for a comedy, and have sent you a slightly worn copy of Mercator Must Walk the Plank by E.G. Delaford. It is worn because it has been read so many times by the members of our staff. It has often been stored behind the counter for staff to read in slow moments, and many of the quotes have become bywords with our little band. We sometimes read it aloud at the Christmas party. Yet by mutual consent, we have agreed that it is exactly the book you need (working here gives one a sense for these things--another Wright and Co. oddity), and gladly send it to you. If we have need of it after you've finished, we trust it will find its way back.
The book appears to have been written in (some version of) the early 20th-century, about a gentleman who takes to high-seas adventure despite his complete lack of sailing knowledge--a Don Quixote of the sea--and the woman he rescues from a shipwreck who tries in vain to set them on a sensible course. The humor is absurd, the characters memorable, and the story--I have forgotten myself. It's best for you to discover these things for yourself.
I have enclosed an invoice detailing the price of The Wings of Hermes. The price is modest compared to the extreme rarity of the book, and you may pay it if you wish to own the book outright. However, Wright and Co. also maintains a sort of library system for those who understand the unique nature of these one-of-a-kind books. For a nominal fee that covers the cost of shipping, patrons may keep one book at a time in their homes, and send it back to Wright and Co. when they wish to request another. If you wish to experience the widest variety of our unique selection--and keep these books in circulation for other readers--I recommend enrollment in this system.
I will not send an invoice for Mercator Must Walk the Plank, because we could not sell that book at any price. You may keep it for as long as it is of use to you, without interfering with your ability to borrow other books per our normal system. We consider this loan not a business arrangement, but an act of charity in your time of need.
Yours faithfully,
Benjamin Wright
VII. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine,
I hope you don't mind that I slipped a note inside Mercator before Ben sent it off. We've never let the book outside the shop before, so I just had to say hello, and welcome you to our little band of Mercator fans (because I know you're going to love it). Please don't worry about sending it back too quickly. I must have half the book memorized, and I can always recite the silliest bits if Heinrich gets too grouchy.
I am so glad you're going to get to read this book, but I have to say that I'm surprised Ben agreed to it, because I could tell some of the things you said your last letter made him upset. These books mean a lot to him, and he doesn't talk about them to just anyone, so I don't think he liked being called a liar.
Not that I blame you! I'd have trouble believing the story, too, if I hadn't seen it myself. But I have! Hundreds of times! We'll be stocking the shelves or dusting, and all of a sudden we'll see a new book there--you usually just know there's something different about it. It'll have all the stuff that a normal book does--cover and endpages and copyright stuff and publisher names, and sometimes even those order forms to buy other books from the publisher. But they're all about companies that don't exist. Or by people we can't even find on the internet. There are too many books in too many styles for them to be the work of some prankster--especially since it's been happening for years and years and years.
And sometimes the books come back to us. I can count at least a dozen times that I've sold a book to someone, and then a year or two later I'll come across the very same copy on our shelves again. It's weird, but after you've worked here long enough, you get used to it, and you forget how strange it all is to people who don't know.
So anyway, I know you're going through a lot with your grandmother (I'm so sorry! I hope she's getting better!), and I'm sure you must be a really lovely person if you loved Song of the Seafolk so much (I hope you don't mind that I read it before Ben sent it back. Delightful book!) which is why I don't mind at all sending Mercator to you, even if you think we're all crazy. But we're not, really. And I hope we can be friends.
Lots of love,
Penelope Brams
(You can call me Penny!)
VIII. Heinrich Gross to Christine Hendry
Madam,
You have the only existing copy of Mercator Must Walk the Plank. I must ask you to use caution when handling it. It is beloved by many in the shop. Please do not consume food or drink while reading it. Do not dog-ear any more pages. Please be gentle when turning the pages that are coming loose.
This book is a gift we do not give lightly. Do not abuse our kindness.
Respectfully,
Heinrich Gross
IX. Christine Hendry to the staff of Wright and Co.
Everyone,
I'm overwhelmed. I had no idea this book--or the story behind it--meant so much to all of you. I feel like I've been sent a priceless family heirloom--and you know me from only three letters! I don't know what I've done to deserve so much trust, but I will care for this book as though it were a priceless work of art (which, from the sound of it, it basically is).
In the name of honesty, I have to say that I don't believe the story of your shop. Frankly, it all sounds like nonsense. But as I'm reading Mercator (we're on Chapter Nine!), I'm beginning to see more than a little bit of Katherina in my objections. Maybe you're all mad, maybe you're mistaken, but I'm not sure it matters much. There are worse things in life than a little nonsense. Especially when you're all so very kind.
I hope all of you (especially Ben) can forgive me for the snide remarks in my last letter. Grandma and I thank you for all the books--wherever they came from--and would be honored to consider you friends.
Yours,
Christine Hendry
P.S. How do I get enrolled in that lending program? I've sent back The Wings of Hermes.
X. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine,
Have you finished the book yet? What do you think?
When you're done with Mercator, I have so so so many books I want you to read. I'm making a list. I know you probably don't have as much time to read as we do here, but I'd hate to think of you missing out on any of my favorites.
I don't want to rush you, but I've never talked to anyone outside of Wright's who had the faintest idea what I was talking about when we referenced Mercator. I've enjoyed having it as our inside joke, but it's even better to have more people in on it.
Write back soon!
Penny
XI. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams
Penny,
Grandma and I finished Mercator Must Walk the Plank last night--and started it again this morning. I can see why you all love it so much. What a wonderfully absurd book. Exactly the type of comedy I was looking for. Your instincts were correct: it was just what we both needed to cheer us up. It's removed enough from our world both in time and plausibility to take our minds away from ordinary things, and there's nothing mean-spirited about any of the humor. So many good characters among that crew. And the plot! High comedy! It's been almost a week since I read Chapter 14, and I'm still giggling over the fishing scene.
I would be overjoyed to read anything else you might recommend. If any of them are half as good as Mercator, they're sure to become my favorites, too.
Yours,
Christine Hendry
P.S. Grandma's hip is doing much better. Still a long road to recovery, but maybe the reread will help. Laughter being the best medicine and all.
XII. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Miss Hendry:
I've enclosed the forms for enrollment in Wright and Co.'s specialized lending program. If you will fill in the required information (though we obviously already have your address) and submit the proper payment, we will be able to begin sending books. The catalogue is yours to keep. I'm afraid the selection is rather outdated, and the summaries less than ideal at conveying the merits of each book. It was assembled by my predecessor, and I'm afraid that my uncle's genius for books did not translate to marketing skill. Amid the cares of business, I have not found the time to put together a modernized version, especially as I find that bespoke recommendations from our staff are far more likely to result in successful pairings of book and reader.
You will note there is a section on the third page where you can request a book. If I can offer a recommendation, I believe that the Alfred Quicke mystery series by Glorya M. Hayers, with its blend of comedy and mystery, would perfectly fit the tastes of your household. The mysteries solved by idle-rich amateur detective Alfred Quicke are always intriguing, but the cast of comedic types--and the farcical situations that arise in the course of the investigation--keep the stories lighthearted. The best way I can describe it is as if Wodehouse wrote a mystery series. The setting is much like that of his most famous stories, though with curious details that suggest it is set in an intriguing alternate world. With seventeen books in the series, you would find enough material to keep your grandmother in mysteries for a long time--though I suggest starting with the fourth book, The Counterfeit Candlestick, as the point where the series finds its voice.
I appreciate the handsome apology in your last letter and accept it wholeheartedly. However, I admit I had hoped for more than agnosticism toward our story. Despite your assertions, the truth does matter, whether we can discover it or not. Though the strange behavior of these books is outside our usual experience, it does not mean it is impossible (you will find a similar truth expressed by most of the great fictional detectives), and I had hoped your respect for us would open you to the possibility that there is more to this world than what we can understand. Perhaps it was too much to expect under the circumstances. But I hope we have garnered enough goodwill that you will not take offense at this expression of my honest opinion. If you do, I apologize, and will attempt to keep future letters focused purely on business.
Respectfully yours,
Benjamin Wright
XIII. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Mr. Wright,
I respect your opinion, though naturally I don't agree. I don't doubt you're sincere in believing what you do, but I can think of a dozen more mundane explanations of how these books mysteriously appear and disappear on your shelves (most of them involving poor record-keeping and less-than-stellar search engine skills). I suggest we drop the subject in the future, as neither of us is likely to convince the other, and my lack of belief about the mystical origin of these books doesn't keep me from fully enjoying the experience of reading them.
I hope you won't think it rude that I filled out your forms twice. Grandma and I do count as separate households, and if I'm going to keep Grandma in mysteries and experience some of the other books, I'm going to need two separate streams of supply. For now, though, I think books 3 and 4 of Alfred Quicke will suit our needs nicely.
Many thanks,
Christine Hendry
XIV. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine!!!
I'm so so glad you loved Mercator! I just knew you would, but it's always a little bit horrible when someone else reads one of your favorite books, because if they hate it, it crushes a piece of your heart, and I don't have that many pieces to spare.
But when they love it! Oh! I can love a book twice as much when I know someone else who loves it! I wouldn't think it was possible I could love Mercator more, but thinking of you and your Grandma laughing over it in her sickbed makes me so--this is going to sound strange, but I'm proud of it. As if we sent out a friend to do a good work, and he succeeded in working miracles. I hope you read it as many times as you want. Trust me, it gets better every time.
But I hope you'll find time to read some other books, too! I'm glad you got your own account along with your Grandma's. Alfred Quicke is lovely (I love his books almost as much as Mercator--please let me know what you think of Bright Folly when you read it), but one cannot live on mysteries alone. There are so many genres, so many moods, so many eras of literature to explore, and Wright's has wonderful examples of so many of them, so I'm so glad we'll get to send them to you.
I know Ben sent you that horrible little catalogue. Ignore it. It makes so many of the very best books sound so dull, and half my favorites aren't even in it. I can do a much better job of telling you what books to read. I've got pages and pages written up about the best ones, but I don't want to overwhelm you right away, so I'll just tell you about a few of the very best at a time. I've included a list of some of the ones I think you'll like best.
You can read what you like, of course, but I can't help thinking you should read The Autumn Queen's Promise by Rose Rennow just as soon as you possibly can. If you loved Song of the Seafolk, I'm sure you'll love this. It's another children's fantasy (a newer one--'90s, maybe?), with the same type of atmospheric historical setting, though this time, it's the most vivid autumnal woods you've ever read about in your life, which makes it perfect for this time of year.
The story's all about this fairy queen who stumbles into this little village in colonial America and can't get home. And she hates them all at first, of course--she's this horrible arrogant thing--but she comes to care for them and it's just lovely to read about. A little slow, but no slower than Seafolk. A nice, relaxing kind of slow. I'm sure you'll love it.
Whatever you pick next, I hope you'll keep me posted with reading updates. I so love talking with you about these books. It's so nice to have a pen pal!
Lots of love,
Penny
XV. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Miss Hendry:
Your account has been opened and the requested books have been shipped. We at Wright and Co. are pleased to count you as one of our trusted patrons.
I am afraid I will find it difficult to honor your request to drop the subject of the origin of our specialized books. Perhaps it is a fault, but I have never been able to bring myself to "agree to disagree". It has always seemed to me the coward's way out of engaging with the search for truth. However, you are correct that endlessly rehashing the subject is unlikely to assist either of us in continuing that search, so I will refrain from mentioning it unless there is further evidence to discuss. If you would be so kind as to patronize our shop in person, I would be happy to offer you further proof of the phenomena that I describe, but further discussion via these letters is likely to remain futile.
Faithfully yours,
Benjamin Wright
XVI. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Mr. Wright:
My offer to "agree to disagree" was a courtesy to you. I'm sure you don't want to lose a customer over the issue, so I was giving you the chance to let it slide so it wouldn't interfere with our working relationship. You think that makes me a coward? How can you say I'm "refusing to engage with the search for truth" when you've admitted that you don't know what the truth is? You said yourself (I still have those first letters) that you don't know where the books come from. Just because you can find no record of them doesn't mean they just appeared out of thin air. And these supposed "returns" of books could come from donations or poor record-keeping. You say you have evidence, but from my point-of-view, you could just be a quirky small press that prints old-fashioned books and tells whimsical stories to draw in customers. With all the stress surrounding Grandma's health, there's no way on Earth that I could make a cross-state trip to see your supposed "proof" for myself.
Frankly, if it weren't for Grandma, I'd consider canceling my accounts with you. But she's been tearing through Alfred Quicke so fast and enjoying it so much that I don't dare to cut off her source of supply. And the books you've sent are wonderful--you've been so kind about Mercator, and you gave me back Song of the Seafolk, and The Autumn Queen's Promise is turning into a lovely story I wouldn't have been able to find anywhere else.
I can't wrap my head around you people. Every time I give you the chance to back away from this weird story, you double down, and frankly, it's freaking me out. Penny's so bubbly that it's easy to see how she could get caught up in it, but you write with such a serious professional voice, and you seem (in your bland professional way) personally offended at my refusal to just go along with your story of mysterious magical books. Why does this matter so much to you? Why can't the books just be wonderful, obscure stories instead of mystical teleporting tomes that respond to feelings or whatever? I can't understand you.
Maybe you'll burn this letter and cancel my accounts, but if you dare to engage, I would like to know what you have to say for yourself.
Yours,
Christine Hendry
XVII. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine,
What did you say to Ben? He's usually so nice and sensible and kind and ordinary--really a great boss--but every once in a while, he broods. And he's been brooding ever since he got your last letter. It's like he's walking around with this big old cloud over his head. He keeps wandering the shelves and then going into his office and glaring at his computer and staring at the wall.
It's got me worried. Is your Grandma okay? I guess he'd tell me if she wasn't. Or you would. I hope.
Are you dying? Maybe that would explain why you haven't written in so long.
Please don't die on me. I couldn't bear it.
Write back soon.
Penny
XVIII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams
Dear Penny,
No one's dying. Grandma gets more mobile every day, and I'm in as good of health as you can have when you're running mostly on caffeine and a couple of hours of sleep a night. I've just been so busy between work and Grandma's care and insurance (so many stupid phone calls) and trying to figure out our finances, and trying to find senior housing for Grandma (her house has way too many stairs), that I barely have time to eat, much less write you back. I'm sorry if I worried you.
As for Ben, well, long story short, I majorly overreacted to some minor thing he said, and wrote a sleep-deprived response that I never should have sent. I really don't want to get into it with you, because you'd probably side with him, and I'd like to keep our friendship intact, at least.
I did manage to read The Autumn Queen's Promise a few pages at a time, and it was just as lovely as you promised it would be. Exquisite fall reading. I almost hate to send it back--that lovely cover alone, with its painting of that beautiful queen in that autumnal woods, added so much atmosphere to the house just by being here. It'll never replace Song of the Seafolk in my heart, but it came closer than almost any other book to recapturing what it felt like to experience it for the first time. I send it back with warm thanks for the recommendation.
I'm also sending back your beloved copy of Mercator Must Walk the Plank. I've held onto it far longer than I deserved to. You were so gracious to send it to me, and I can't take advantage of your kindness. (You can tell Heinrich that I haven't added a single scuff to the cover).
Since Ben seems to be in no mood for letters from me, can I send my book requests through you? Grandma would like Books 8 and 9 of Alfred Quicke (she can use my account for the second, because I don't have much time for reading at the moment.)
Thank you,
Christine
XIX. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Miss Hendry:
You say that you find us at Wright and Co. difficult to understand, but I find you equally baffling. In a single letter, you will thank us profusely for our friendship and the books we provide, while at the same time attacking that very thing which we hold most dear. In expressing my difficulty with the phrase "agree to disagree", I was not attacking your morals. You will note I was more than willing to honor your request to drop the subject. Yet in misconstruing my words, you have sounded the horn of war, and honor and duty--and, to be honest, personal inclination--demand that I engage.
You ask me why these books--and the phenomena surrounding their existence--matter so much to me. I can answer only by biography. Wright and Co. is a small, cluttered, dim, obscure shop--you could find a thousand used book stores like it anywhere in the world--but from a young age (the shop was owned by my uncle then) it seemed a place of unique enchantment. I would spend summer days racing among the stacks and losing myself in books. I grew more jaded and cynical as I aged--most teenagers do--but whenever I was in danger of becoming a disaffected youth, there was something about the shop that made me feel there was something more than the meaninglessness of everyday life.
Learning about the miracle of the books felt like getting the answer to a question I hadn't realized I was asking. Here was proof there was something beyond the mundane and predictable. Something too wonderful for the human mind to understand. Some wondrous power cared enough about the patrons of this shop to help them get the right story in their hands at the right time--even if that story had never been written. Other books have authors and publishers, but these books seemed like a gift from the author of imagination itself.
When I took over the shop, I became a steward of that gift. Caring for these books and matching them with readers makes the running of this shop, not just a banal business arrangement, but a calling. Stories have the power to shape our imagination, our outlook, our relationships with others--and these stories, coming as they do unwritten, unbought and unlooked for, seem to have more power than most. Caring for that power is a great responsibility, one that I take very seriously. I have seen its good effect again and again. You cannot deny you have experienced it yourself.
You are correct when you say that I do not know the exact origin of these books. But I am not intellectually lazy just because I am content with no answer. Making peace with mystery--knowing that some things are ever unknowable--is not the same as refusing to believe the truth that comes before your eyes.
You have closed yourself to even the possibility of an explanation that goes beyond the reality you can comprehend. I have spoken of evidence that proves there is no rational explanation for these books, and you call me an unreliable witness. You have seen hints of the wondrous that you dismissed out of hand. I understand that you do not have the same evidence that I have, and I have not been as gracious as I should have been in making allowance for that. But saying that my refusal to seek an exact explanation makes me intellectually lazy is inaccurate in the extreme.
I may not know how these books come into my shop, but I know from whom. I may not know the exact mechanisms of the miracle, but I firmly believe there is an author of all that has allowed my shop to be a source of minor--and yes, rather whimsical--wonders. I need not know more than that to do my duty well.
Perhaps that explanation will help you to understand my position. More likely you will think me crazier than ever. But since I have explained my inner self, perhaps I have some right to ask for an explanation in return.
Ever since your response to that first letter, when I hinted at the miracle surrounding these books, I detected not only disbelief from you, but disdain. I was troubled to see such disgust toward the concept, especially from one who has proven herself an enthusiastic fan of fantasy. Why do you seek wonders in your stories, but resist it so fiercely in your own existence? Would it be so terrible for these books to have a supernatural origin? Is there not some appeal in letting the wondrous into your life?
You need not respond to such prying questions if it makes you uncomfortable. But I ask that at least, if you do respond, that you deal gently with one who has made his inner self so vulnerable to your scrutiny.
Yours faithfully,
Benjamin Wright
XX. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Ben,
Wow.
When I asked for an explanation, I didn't expect that.
I don't know how I can possibly respond.
I definitely understand why it matters so much to you, but somehow, this conversation has shifted from magic to theology, and I'm even less equipped to engage in a conversation about that. Not to get into too much detail, but that's part of the reason I haven't seen my grandmother in so many years. Grandma's comfortable with that stuff. I prefer my fantasy to remain safely in stories.
If what you say is true, if there's some grand wonderful power--call it magic, call it God--that does things we can't understand, then we're completely powerless against it. Which is fine if the power is good, but if the good things are real, then the bad things can be, too. There are too many ordinary problems for me to want to live in a world where there's some grand plan I can mess up by doing the wrong thing, and greater powers are waging in a war for my soul.
Fantasy is great. I love stories of mermaids and magic and the wonders of life. But it's not reality. I learned that young, and every year I live only proves it more. I'm content to live in the ordinary world with its ordinary problems, and get my escape through literature--where none of the monsters on the page can hurt me.
I'm glad--I really, truly am--that you've been able to make yourself believe in some grander purpose behind these silly little stories we've been reading. But I can't believe in that. I've seen no proof to make me believe it. Maybe you have, but most people can barely trust their own eyes, so how can I trust yours? It's not that I think you're crazy or stupid. Your personality and experiences make you want to believe. Mine make me happy to doubt. It's nobody's fault, and neither of us can change it, and it's fine. I'll stop calling you a crackpot if you stop calling me a coward, and we'll leave it at that.
Wherever the books come from, we all agree that they're wonderful, and if you don't mind dealing with a dirty nonbeliever, I'd be honored if you'd let me continue doing business with you.
Yours,
Christine Hendry
XXI. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine,
Where is Mercator? We got your letter, and The Autumn Queen's Promise, and your most recent Alfred Quicke, but no sign is there of Mercator Must Walk the Plank.
Oh! Oh no! What if it got lost in the mail? Could we survive such a tragedy? Silly old John Quackenbush and fiery Katherina, and grumpy little Pegs and that whole lovable crew--gone forever! If the U.S. Postal Service is responsible for their destruction, I'll...we'll...we'll make them pay! This is a murder and there must be justice!
Don't worry, I don't blame you. But the next mailman to cross my path better watch out. We'll find that book if we have to tear through every mail box and bag and truck in the country!
I'll keep you posted about the search if I can find the time to write.
Frantically,
Penny
XXII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams
Dear Penny,
I'm so extremely sorry. When I sent you that last letter, I truly thought I had packaged and mailed Mercator Must Walk the Plank, but after receiving your reply, I discovered that the book was still on its usual shelf in my grandmother's house. I've been so sleep-deprived lately that I overlook things, but I didn't think I could possibly have overlooked something that.
Don't worry. I'll be sending it out as soon as I get another box to ship it in. And this time, I'll make 100% sure it's inside before I ship it.
Please forgive me.
Christine
XXIII. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Dear Christine,
You've asked me not to call you a coward, but your wording leaves me almost no choice. Denying yourself the good and wondrous out of fear of evil and danger is the definition of cowardice. Staying within the narrow world of rationality makes for a bleak and colorless life--and you're none the safer for your denial. Good and evil exist whether you acknowledge them or not. Closing your eyes to them only makes you vulnerable to ambush should they come upon you unaware.
Can you not open yourself to the possibility that the good can overcome the evil? That it can offer strength to face the dangers? Great stories can do that by showing us how to act in such situations, to give us examples of victory over darkness, to open our minds to possibilities that we might not accept in our ordinary lives. You've experienced such stories. Is it so strange to think they might reflect the reality we live in? Is it so strange to think there might be some greater power offering us those stories to sustain us?
To you, I'm sure it seems impossible. But you know there are those who think otherwise. I only ask you to consider the implications of the choice.
Respectfully yours,
Ben
XXIV. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Ben,
I don't think you can call my position a choice. You're acting like I'm picking between favorite foods or something--picking one position because I don't like the other one. But as far as I can tell, my position is the only choice. I have no reason to believe any other option exists.
It would be wonderful if I could believe the way you do. It seems to have brought you a lot of peace. But I'm not built that way and I'll just have to struggle along. Your concern is touching, but I've been doing just fine so far.
If I ever see proof, I'd have reason to reconsider, but as it is, I have enough trouble in the world I can see to worry too much about one that I can't.
Respectfully,
Christine
XXV. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine,
Still no sign of Mercator. Did you forget to send it again, or do I have to lay siege to the post office?
Penny
P.S. Have you been reading any more of the books?
XXVI. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams
Penny,
I have tried to send off that package no fewer than three times, and every time the book somehow makes its way back to my shelf. Maybe I'm just so used to seeing it there that I keep putting it back. I am so sorry for the delay.
It makes me feel guilty that I'm still profiting by reading your other books. Now that winter is upon us, Grandma and I have started reading aloud from the longest of your fantasy suggestions--The Queens of Wintermoon. You're right that it's an odd book--Russian-flavored science fantasy, with all those complicated family ties and political intrigues--but it's just what we need right now. Grandma is unfortunately dealing with a bout of pneumonia at the moment, which means I'm spending a lot of time at the hospital, but a big, thick, lush and lyrical literary book with a huge cast of vividly-drawn characters is just what we need to take us away from the sterile white walls and the scent of disinfectant.
It's great to sink into that snowy world with its royal glamour and underground orchards and mystical machines. Grandma and I spend ages talking about the four sisters and their royal husbands--all their flaws and heartaches and complicated relationships. I'm most attached to Vitalia and her political intrigue plot, while Grandma most loves the storyline of Inessa and her mysterious woodcutter husband. I have my suspicions about both their secrets, but I'm more than willing to wait the 800-or-so pages they'll need to resolve everything. It's nice to have something to take my mind off of other worries.
But I will keep worrying about Mercator. I promise somehow or another, it will make its way back to you.
Yours,
Christine
XXVII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams
Penny,
I don't understand it. This is the fifth time I've tried to send Mercator Must Walk the Plank back to you. This time I waited until I'd had a decent night of sleep so my mind was clear. I put it in the packaging (extra padding). I took a picture of it inside the box. I took a picture of the sealed and addressed box. I took a picture of the box when I took it to the post office and left it at the counter. And then I returned home to find the book sitting on the same shelf where I'd put it this morning.
Are the darn things breeding? Did you send me extra copies? There is no other explanation for what happened.
It's got my head spinning, and until I've got it figured out, unfortunately Mercator is going to stay right where it is.
Sorry!
Christine
XXVIII. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Christine,
Penny has made me aware of your difficulties with Mercator Must Walk the Plank. It's clear to me (as I'm sure it will be to you) what has happened. If you wished for proof, you now have it. The Powers-That-Be have determined that you have more need of the book than we do.
Please don't distress yourself by (or waste postage upon) any further attempts to send the book back. We have plenty of other books to read, and if we ever have need of Mercator, I trust that the same powers will ensure it makes its way back to us.
Yours,
Ben
XXIX. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Ben,
It's the middle of the night and I can't sleep. I'm trying not to think of that book and I can't. It just doesn't make sense.
This can't be happening. But it is. And if this part of your story is true, then that means the other part of the story is true, which means your theories
This doesn't mean you've won. I'm sure there's some rational explanation that I've overlooked. I shouldn't even write to you because you'll just try to convince me that this is proof we live in a world of angels and fairies who bother themselves about the books we read. But it's not like there's anyone else I can talk to about this.
If you have nothing to say but, "I told you so," don't bother writing back at all. But if you've anything useful to say I'm all ears (or eyes, I guess--weird that I've never actually spoken to you. I don't even know what you look like. How old are you?)
I should sleep. But I'm going to go off and mail this letter like a moron because it's the closest I can come to a conversation.
Good night.
Christine
XXX. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Christine,
This is me not saying I told you so.
That doesn't leave me much else to say.
I'm 39.
Picture the word "man" in the dictionary. Imagine there's an illustration there. That's pretty close to what I look like.
If you want to hear my voice, you'll have to come to the shop and talk to me in person. Or I suppose we could call each other. We do live in the 21st century. But I admit I've enjoyed this 19th-century correspondence we've been keeping up.
I wish I had something more useful to say, but I doubt I can say any of it in a way you want to hear.
I hope you've been sleeping better.
Ben
XXXI. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry
Christine
CHRISTINE!!
I know you didn't order another book, but I was wandering through the shelves the other day when this book just about jumped out at me. It's like it had your name written in it. Like how your grandmother wrote in Song of the Seafolk.
Your name's not in it. I checked. But something about it still made it seem like yours. Like we were keeping it from you. Ben agreed (he's got a good sense for these things), so I started preparing the box to ship it. But I read a bit of the first chapter before I packaged the book, just to get an idea of what I was sending you. I didn't move from that spot until I'd read the whole thing. Ben just about locked me in the shop before he found me sitting in a daze in the back room.
Christine, you have to read this book. Now. It's the most beautiful...well, not fantasy. But it's not not fantasy. It's so real and yet so magical and you could maybe read it both ways. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I finished it.
But what's the book? If you've opened the package by now, I'm sure you know it's called Cardinal's Map by someone named Dorothy Cannes. It's from the eighties, it looks like, but it feels older. And newer. Does that make it timeless? I suppose all of the books in our "special" selection feel that way. Anyway, it's about this girl named Miranda, and she's this terrible grouch, and she goes to work for this old guy named Cardinal (that's where the title comes from) who needs help writing his book. And he's got the most beautiful map of all the countries in world of his fantasy book. Except the countries might be real? And just....ack, I don't have words! The book has a lot of them. Read those instead.
And then write to me because I need to know what you think about the ending!!
Lots of love,
Penny
XXXII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams
Penny,
You were right.
Thank you.
Christine
XXXIII. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright
Ben,
It's been three hours since I finished Cardinal's Map, and I haven't moved from my chair. Everything you said about the power of story is true. It's like this book reached into my soul and rearranged the furniture. Cleared out the clutter. And it did it by sweeping me along with the characters and the story and the beautiful prose so I didn't even know what was happening until it was already done.
Everything we've been fighting about for the last few weeks was in this book. It talked about all the things you were trying to tell me, but instead of just telling me, it showed me and made me think and feel and helped me make sense of it all. And I never felt like it was preaching. I'm not even sure it was trying to preach. It's just...a story, so I let my guard down and it got under my skin. Just like Cardinal's map got to Miranda.
I don't know if you've read the book or not, but the premise is that John Cardinal is writing this extensive fantasy work and Miranda's this jaded college kid hired as a secretary to help him arrange all his notes. And she's fascinated by the fictional map and gets swept up in the book, until she realizes that Cardinal is telling the story of his life. That this character who traveled to this other fantasy world is supposed to be him. And she's got to figure out if he's using this as a metaphor, or if he's crazy, or if this other world really is a real place.
And by the end of the book, we don't know. You could read it both ways--the world in the map is either a metaphor or a real country that he’s been to. But it doesn't really matter which one is true, because the bigger truth is that Miranda knows there's something beyond the rational world that we can see. And it's not terrifying. It's wonderful. It's not this place full of monsters waiting to pounce--it's this exciting, dangerous, beautiful place to explore.
If Penny wants to know what I think of the ending, I believe that Cardinal's world is real. And I believe your story is true. I've seen evidence. That terrified me, because that means the world no longer makes sense. But the truth doesn't have to be a terrifying destruction of the reality I know; it can be an expansion of it. I don't understand why any of this happens, or how, but maybe I don't have to know how. I just need to be thankful that it did.
You said that Mercator stayed with me because I needed it more than you guys did. Maybe what I needed was evidence of the miracles you told me about. Then I wondered why Song of the Seafolk wandered away, because I very much needed it here when it was at your shop. But maybe what I needed was to write to you. The correspondence we've shared, the books you've sent me, they've strengthened me through a lot of difficult weeks. They've given me and Grandma a lot of joy, brought us back together after so many year's apart. And they've helped me straighten out a lot of questions I didn't know I was wrestling with.
There was someone's hand in all this--an author arranging all the pieces of the story in a way I'd never have been able to achieve on my own. Maybe before that'd make me feel helpless, but now, I don’t know, I guess I feel cared for. Like someone’s watching out for me.
I feel like I should thank you, and I don't know how. This is too deep for words. Thank you for writing, even when I was horrible to you. Thank you for the books. Thanks for being a part of my story.
Grandma's doing better now. If she's up for it, I think it's time for a road trip.
If you're ever going to see Mercator or Cardinal's Map again, I might have to hand them to you in person.
Love to all of you,
Christine Hendry
XXXIV. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry
Christine,
You may not believe me, but I did not read Cardinal's Map before sending it to you. I simply had the notion that it would be the ideal book for your circumstances--and I was as surprised as you were to find just how true that was. Another gift, I suppose.
I look forward to reading it, if you can ever spare it (I look upon the book as belonging to you now). I also greatly anticipate the opportunity to see and speak to you here in the shop. I hope you will not wait long to make good on your promise.
Yours faithfully,
Ben
XXXV. Christine Hendry to the staff at Wright and Co.
Everyone,
I can't say how wonderful it was to see you all in person. You all looked just like I pictured you. Your shop is too wonderful for words. I could have moved in. But alas, Grandma and I don't have the resources for a move right now.
We'll have to continue the friendship long-distance. Now that I have the shop's phone number (funny I never thought to request it before), and your personal numbers, I suppose we can call whenever we like. But if you don't mind, I'm going to keep corresponding by letter, too.
Love to you all,
Christine
#inklingschallenge#team chesterton#genre: intrusive fantasy#theme: visit the sick#story: complete#remind me to tell you the behind the scenes stuff sometimes#maybe it wouldn't be interesting to you but it was a wild ride
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