#i have a physical copy of it. i know i do. with the fancy white box and the manual in it and everything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

netherworldpost · 10 months

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With the various rumors and releases of Tumblr possibly changing how they do things... (gestures to the vague rumor mill)...

Zines.

I really think we as Folks Who Make Things and Folks Who Like Art Writing Poetry Music Comics Other Things need to explore zines. And I mean ZINES. Nothing glossy. Nothing fancy.

Very. Cheap. Zines.

I've been threatening mentioning I was going to create a guide on how I'm going to approach this -- and I'm going to -- but I am also realizing in the writing I Do Things Highfalutin because I am who I am + had a career in graphic design.

Let's talk about how you can make a zine very cheaply and very pretty.

STEP ONE: SUPPLIES

Very bright paper. I like "Astrobrights" because they are absurdly bright. Here is a link in a store I like. I buy a lot of paper and envelopes from them. You can generally find Astrobrights in big box office stores. It prints on laser printers and ink jet and photocopiers.

Very bright envelopes. What's that? Astrobrights has envelopes?! AM I SOLVING PROBLEMS let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Letter paper is 8.5" x 11" and is the most common size in the united states (overseas folk will have to use this advice with a grain o'sea salt and search yer own waters).

A9 envelopes are a letter sheet folded in half.

A2 envelopes are a letter sheet folded in half, then folded in half.

#10 envelopes are your common long envelopes, letter paper folded in thirds.

Pick the size you like.

If you want to get big and fancy, Tabloid is 17" x 11" -- so double a letter sheet. This gets tricky to work with but is neat in sizing.

STEP TWO: ZINE CONTENT

Do you know how to use InDesign or similar program? Use that.

No? Use Google Docs or Word or whatever other program and ramble.

Want something special? Write out some or part with a sharpee or pen.

Mix and match both.

If you are feeling fancy, design it like a booklet -- mock up a sheet of blank paper as if it were a brochure. If not, just design it straight up and down like a letter. There are no zine laws.

STEP THREE: ZINE PRINTING

Print at home on your home printer.

Don't have a printer at home? Print it at work (don't get fired)

Can't? Your local library may be able to help.

You need 1 copy on white paper.

FedEx Office has photocopiers. Your local library may too. Or your job.

Print 1 copy of your zine on white paper and then photocopy the rest onto colorful paper (or white paper, it be yer zine seadog).

Or print everything on the color paper if you have access to free printing, that's fine too.

The photocopy setup is purely "printing tends to cost more than photocopying."

If you want to slash prices, print 2 per sheet and have FedEx office cut them for you, this will cost $1 - $5 depending on how many sheets you are dealing with. This is for when you're doing a LOT of zines at once.

Or use their manual paper cutter yourself for free.

STEP FOUR: ZINE STAPLING

"Long reach stapler" is what I recommend. There are a few varieties. They tend to be $20 - $30.

Or just use 1 sheet!

STEP FOUR: ZINE POSTAGE

A single first class stamp for 1-2 pages. If you get up to 3+, go to the post office and ask them to weigh a comp you have assembled.

This is a guideline.

It's a really good idea to check at least once how much your zine weighs just in general. Post offices have scales. And are pretty. And have stamps.

OKAY ENOUGH LUSTING FOR THE POST OFFICE FROM THE GHOTS POST OFFICE BLOG BACK TO WORK

STEP FIVE: ZINE MAILING

This is actually the most difficult part. Label printers exist with various costs -- if you're starting out? Go with printable labels.

Your office supply shop will have them and they'll have templates you can drop in the customer addresses.

Save yourself time by using this label as the thing that seals the envelope -- don't lick envelopes.

A key tenet to staying in business is constantly reviewing physical (and mental) labor and stressors and reducing them as much as possible.

Return address labels are intensely cheap in literally every online printer, google "return address labels." Make sure you have this because at least a few of your shipments will come back to you.

STEP SIX: ZINE PRICING

Okay here is where we get uncomfortable because we're talkin' coins.

Prices are based on above links. You can get whatever paper you want, so this is guidelines. All numbers rounded up.

Payment processing ($0.30) + $0.05 sheet + $0.15 envelope + $0.66 first class postage = $1.16 base cost

$1.16 + 2.9% of $1.16 payment processing = $1.20

Plus taxes. I'm not getting into tax figures YOU DO THAT (just say 30% for easy math, this is not saying "your taxes are 30% or that mine are" I am saying "I am going to factor 30% for this equation to complete this guide".)

I did not include the mailing label (it will be $0.01 - $0.05 depending on how fancy and how many you buy) because you have the option to just write things and also it fits into the rounding of the above.

If you use Patreon, include your fees. Probably replace the above processing fees with your patreon processing... fees? I don't use patreon I don't know how it works.

Retail option 01: $1.50 - 1.20 = $0.80 gross - 30% = $0.09 / net / zine.

Retail option 02: $2 - 1.20 = $0.80 gross - 30% = $0.56 / net / zine.

Retail option 03: $3 - 1.20 = $1.80 gross - 30% = $1.26 / net / zine.

Should it be $1.50? Should it be $3.00? MORE? LESS?! That is for you to decide. Base it on what your zine contains, how long it takes you to write/draw/etc. it and how you want your flow to be.

STEP SEVEN: ZINE FREQUENCY

When my shop launches, it'll have a zine once a month. We are going to offer a subscription option + a "I just want 1" option.

You can do a zine monthly, or every few months, or whatever.

Keep in mind that the purpose of doing this is to break the dependency on social media marketing.

KEEP IN MIND AS AN AUDIENCE MEMBER TO A CREATOR YOU LIKE THAT THEY ARE DOING THIS TO BREAK THEIR DEPENDENCY ON SOCIAL MEDIA MARKETING.

If you have a lot of energy and an audience that comes to your shop a lot? Consider doing a zine monthly.

If you do not have a lot of energy and/or your audience is tapped for cash frequently? Considering doing 1 zine per season.

Consider 2 zines a year if that works better for you!

NO RULES ONLY JOY

Not sure? Experiment! Be upfront! "This is new. I'm figuring this out. Billionaires are tinkering with these things and we gotta figure something else out."

BONUS STEP: NETHERWORLDPOST.COM

so hi I'm atty and I'm your loud long rambler today

Netherworld Post Office used to be @evilsupplyco and now we are rebranding in prep of relaunching. Same person behind the rambles and comics, new name with a more focus (mail instead of mail + seemingly everything else in experiment)

if you enjoyed this ramble and/or like ghosts, monsters, witches, mermaids, and fun stories and projects focused on cozy Halloween, you may like us when we finish the rebranding and relaunching in autumn 2023.

email sign up (the zine will come when we are open)

WHETHER YOU JOIN MY LIST OR NOT

I really, really, really hope you consider doing a regular, or irregular, zine. Something outside of email, something outside of social media, something that connects I MADE A WEIRD THING and the people who say I LOVE THIS WEIRD THING YOU MADE.

The walls are closing in on free social media as a platform for people who make weird things to build audiences for free or very cheap.

And with that...

netherworldpost.com as one final hat pass

good luck folks

thanks for listenin' to the ol' ghost

#small business #small business marketing #small business fun #zines #zine #making zines

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riizebabie444 · 1 year

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your future spouse’s love language

hi! i'm pearl and i’m so happy you chose this reading ♡ today’s reading is all about the love language of your future spouse and how they express it. this is my first pac on this blog so I hope you enjoy!

♡ disclaimer ♡ please remember that all tarot readings posted on this blog are for fun and entertainment; you should not refer to these readings as a replacement for advice or guidance on serious matters.

reblogs are appreciated, as is feedback! find more pac’s in my masterlist! check out my paid readings and exchange readings! and donations are greatly appreciated ♡

♥︎ pile 1 ♥︎

♡ love language ♡

quality time + acts of service

♡ how they express love ♡

i immediately see that this person is not a touchy–feely type; they don’t particularly enjoy or feel comfortable with physical touch, especially the type you might expect in a relationship. so, physical touch is definitely on the bottom of the list of their love languages. however, they do like holding your hand and burying their face in your body. and it is clear to me that quality time is very important to them.

this person loves deep conversations; i’m hearing, in particular, the half–full/half–empty debate. i believe it is of importance to them and may be a deciding factor in whether or not they want to pursue you. they seem like the type of person who would use this debate or others like it to judge other people. but regardless, i think they are genuinely a philosophical person; they love talking with you, getting to the roots of your brain and heart, finding out how you feel and why you feel those things so they can know you better.

i think they’re quite a sensitive person; i have reason to believe that for some of you reading this, your future spouse may have grown up with separated or divorced parents, or a broken family in general. this reflects a lot in how they allow themselves to love. they don’t like touch or pda because they very rarely saw it with their own parents. they also may have not received a lot of attention as a child, and this is why quality time is important to them.

i’m seeing art very prominently, so either them or you could be artists. i said quality time and i definitely think expressing yourselves together creatively would be fun to do. maybe art dates, or walks in nature and under the stars to gain inspiration for art. and other activities like pottery class or bouquet making, they might take you to a wreath making class do you can make one together for your home in the holidays; if there's anything fun and creative to do, they want to do it with you.

they have a rough edge that is hard to crack through. but they are driven and if they are serious about you, they will put in the effort. i’m seeing acts of service, like always paying for meals and bringing/making you coffee and driving you to where you need to go. it would also be hard to read their facial expressions, but they are soft for you on the inside and you will know this because of all the little things they do for you.

♡ symbols and signs ♡

clouds, paint/drawing/art, crying, the letter s, a white horse or other white animals (such as a dog or cat), heterochromia, gemini, 5, tree, stars, 32, mythology, leo/5th house, opiuchus, dark brown hair, roses, water signs.

♡ cards ♡

the artist, knight of swords, the lovers rv, five of cups rv

♥︎ pile 2 ♥︎

♡ love language ♡

acts of service, gift giving + quality time

♡ how they express love ♡

from them, i am getting the image of an angel who gives. they are a generous person; they like giving to support you. whether it is extravagant gifts or simply helping you in giving you what you need to get by. i see both ends of the spectrum — for some of you, they will be able to give you expensive and fancy things, and for some of you, they will not be as disposable with their income but will still give to you because they care about you.

gold is popping out a lot, so maybe gold jewellery or other gold gifts, or maybe they like gold wrapping paper. and it is not subjective – it can be anything deemed precious, like gold. but i also see they are quite moderate, so they prefer to give gifts with deep thought and meanings to them rather than going straight for the most expensive and fancy looking item in the store.

i see this person with a lot of fears and anxieties in regards to the relationship they have with you, and they may also worry you feel the same way. and it’s normal to have these feelings at some point in a relationship. so, i think they’d be urged to give more gifts when they have those worries. they want to appeal to you with generosity which could turn into an unhealthy habit, so keep an eye out for those who this resonates with.

bringing you water on a hot day — this image feels really clear. maybe those of you reading this live in a hot country, or really like hot weather. i see the sun bright in the sky and they’re worried you may be dehydrated or suffering from heatstroke, so they will always make sure you are drinking enough water, especially during hot weather.

and carrying on with the topic of sun, there’s a scene where the sun is touching the horizon. perhaps you guys went to watch the sun set after a date. gold rays are coming in strongly, so it might be your guys’ thing – watching the sun set or rise and leaving the curtains open in your home so the rooms can fill with warm, bright light from the sun. consistency is important to them, so little routines like these that you both enjoy makes them feel so special and they love being reminded that you are there to experience these moments with them.

♡ symbols and signs ♡

sagittarius, water signs, flowing water, nightmares, sun, jupiter, marigolds, sunset and/or sunrise, 10, wings, studio ghibli, unhealthy habits, summer, 444

♡ cards ♡

temperance, nine of swords, knight of cups, seven of wands.

♥︎ pile 3 ♥︎

♡ love language ♡

physical touch, quality time + words of affirmation

♡ how they express love ♡

with two kings here, i definitely see they are very vocal and confident with their words. they seem like the person who always speaks their mind, whether they are expressing happy thoughts or bad ones. that also means they will make it clear when they are upset or angry, but it also means they will clear any doubts you have and make sure you know that they love you.

although, for some of you, i see that your future spouse could be the type who falls silent when they are angry, but even in this case, they will eventually tell you what the issue is and make it clear that their feelings for you don’t change so easily.

in particular, i hear “you’re the best!” and grabbing your head and kissing you on the forehead. “i’m so lucky,” “i couldn’t have figured this out without you,” and “you look great in that outfit,” are what i’m also hearing. i think for some of you, your future spouse will be the type of person who has a catchphrase, like “i’m impressed,” or something along those lines. this is just what i heard, but it could be anything, and they will tend to use it to boost your confidence, and also when they are trying to flirt with you.

they obviously love to spend time with you, but i think they will particularly love holidays with you. i’m seeing quiet villas in countries along the equator, maybe that resonates with some of you. for others, i see the coast. peaceful getaways are like a goldmine to them; they may not happen a lot but when they do, they have the best times of their lives with you.

and holding hands is so prominent. just hands in general. even if you’re holding something else in your hand, they will take it and replace it with their own hand. physical touch like cuddling and kissing would take place, but for them, touching you with their hands is what fulfils them. it’s the fact that you are real and touchable so they always need that reality check to ensure you’re really there. and if you like all the touching, then they will do it tenfold. holding hands, or their hands roaming all over your body; whatever it is, they will almost always have their hands on you.

♡ symbols and signs ♡

323, twice (kpop girl group), coasts, nice hands, black birds, italy, blue skies, 11, magpies, graduation, purple gown, olives, pastel colours, chameleon, green, greece

♡ cards ♡

ace of swords, two of wands, king of wands, king of swords

#pac #tarot #tarot reading #tarot pac #pick a card #tarot pick a card #tarot pick a pile #future spouse #future spouse tarot reading #fs pac #jella’s readings

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esmiara · 11 months

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As promised, let me introduce you my two beloved BSD OCs:

Who are they?

Basically, Lewis and Antoine are two friends traveling around the world to discover exciting places while avoiding various government forces (more on that later). Though not related to the main story of BSD, they do know about organisations like Port Mafia and the Agency, mainly from what they heard in the streets and read in the newspapers since they arrived in Yokohama. However, they do prefer to not get anyone involved in their issues, nor do they really want to get involved in anyone else’s.

Lewis Carroll

Based on the author of Alice in Wonderland, Lewis was a man in his thirties with a fancy mind. As a child, he once had a wild imagination feeding his ability Wonderland (again, more on that later) but due to social and family pressure, he got forced upon a path of logic and perfection, now making it hard for him to think outside the box. Thus crushing his past self involuntarily and putting chains on his own mind in order to protect himself from outside complaints. As an adult, he became a plain math teacher for children, with a quite boring life. That is, until he met one certain child in London.

Their meeting

“Draw me a sheep.” said the unknown child out of the blue.

Lewis was stunned. He didn’t knew what to respond at first to this child, which he thought was one of his students. But when he put more thought on it, he didn’t looked like any child he had at the time. Who might have been this strange blond kid with unkept clothes? He decided to learn more about him, worried he may have lost his parents somewhere. However, as they talked, he quickly understood he didn’t had any. He simply didn’t knew about any “parents”. Actually, he didn’t knew much about the world itself either.

“Draw me a sheep!” repeated the child after a while of interrogative discussion about who he was, where he came from etc....

Lewis gently asked why such a demand, as he didn’t want to offend this possible lost orphan.

The boy fell silent. Then spoke again, a sad emptiness darkening his young blue eyes.

“I want a warm friend to bring with me” he simply responded.

Their exchange may have been succinct up to this point, but it was clear to Lewis that he was no normal child. As the boy seemingly didn’t have a name, Lewis gave him the name of one of his most beloved book’s author. The character of that one book simply reminded him of the boy.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

More based on the Little Prince’s main character than the actual author, Antoine was an enigmatic individual with the physical appearance of a young boy. Nobody knows of his real age, not even himself. However, most may have theorized that he at least was around for at least a few decades, if not centuries perhaps. One day found and caught by the french government in his - supposedly - hometown, he had no memories of his time before then, except for some vague fragments. He mostly remembered about this laboratory he was brought in, with a lonely room where he would occasionnally meet strangers dressed in white. Despite the many uncertainties surrounding him, Antoine was still of great interest for scientists. He didn't seemed to physically age at all. Could he hold the secret of cells regeneration or even immortality? They soon found out he did age but at a very slow pace, thus looking unchanged for many years.

Curious about this plausible new ability, they decided to make him meet a young girl, who would share his room from now on. This one girl was quite arrogant at first. Antoine didn't really like her attitude but she was the only other person he could befriend. So they did. They soon became friends. Then they learned more about the truth, may it be this girl's past, snatched from her orphanage to become a lab rat as well, or the whole reason why she was here with him in the first place.

It was all because of the young girl's ability. One that would let her copy another one and make it her own. They apparently wished to make a copy of test subject B612′s power in order to "save it” somewhere and be able to experiment on it without having to risk the boy’s life. But things didn't turned out like they wanted as the girl began to crumble under some unknown sickness. Her body couldn't handle Antoine's ability, so it seemed, and she quickly became unable to move. So she made a promise with Antoine:

“Be my eyes and explore the outer world, okay dumby?” she said, with little breath she had left.

A promise reminiscent of the one where they would explore and see the world together. One where he would do so if she couldn't follow, to make her dream come true even when she became a star.

Their abilities

Little prince

No one really knows the details about Antoine's ability. Everything we know for sure is that his body has a very long lifetime, yet not immortal. He is destined to die of aging one day and is still weak to any wound like anyone else. However, we did notice Antoine's body starts to produce a faint glow whenever he gets sick or when his life is in danger in general. Not that it really helps at all though.

Wonderland

Lewis' ability is a bit complex and confusing, much like Alice in Wonderland's whole world.

In theory, Wonderland is quite simple: it allows its bearer to create anything he thinks to be a nonsense, something that is normally impossible. It could be seen as an area surrounding the user, in which he can create anything he wants, as long as it meets the proper requirements (being a "nonsense").

However, as the whole definition of "nonsense" depends on the user's mind, one could have a hard time creating anything. As such, what could be a nonsense to someone isn't necessarily one for Lewis. He is still quite a peculiar man after all.

A strange man, but with many restrictions on his mind and imagination. As he was forced to think with logic for the most part of his life now, he can't stop asking himself about the specifics of one’s question. Where a visible nonsense would occur, Lewis' mind would subconsciously ponder over what could make it truly real or impossible. If he can't get proper answers to those questions, then it can't happen either.

The beginning of their adventures

As they became much closer as people who somehow understood each other, Lewis began to be more friendly with the child, rather than looking like a mere adult talking to a little one. He saw himself in his struggles. He saw a young mind, much like his own a long time ago, slowly getting crushed by adult's expectations and limiting his own thoughts. He couldn't let the same thing happen twice when they still had a choice. So he encouraged him to get creative and let free of his imagination, with no worries about exterior opinions.

One day however, they suddenly got caught off guard by militaries sent by the french government as well as some members of the Order of the Clocktower, there to retrieve the unknown child for their own purpose instead. It was at that time that Lewis was finally able to make use of his ability once more after so many years. Inspired by Antoine’s naturally spoken nonsense, he unleashed Wonderland in order to escape. This also put a permanent stop to Lewis’ normal way of life, as he now was as searched for as Antoine was. It was time for a involuntary trip around the world, it seemed. But this time, Antoine wasn’t alone anymore.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd oc #bsd #bsd ocs #esmi ocs #bsd art #idk which tags to put at this point #long post #some angst #oc

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blackwidownat2814 · 1 year

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Lift Me Up (J.Seresin)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader, Jake Seresin x GN!reader

Word Count: 1294

A/N: There was no prompt or request to make me write this. I wrote it to help a friend. They recently lost someone very near and dear to their heart, and I hated that I couldn't be there to help them grieve. So I decided to do the next best thing. I wrote about our favorite naval aviator helping them through this horrible time. I've never written a gender neutral reader before, so I consulted with a couple people to make sure I did it properly. Thank you so much @jobean12-blog and @nuggetynoodle!!

TW: death of a loved one, dealing with grief, angst, a little fluff (because our beloved Jake tries to lift our spirits)...

‼️⚠️I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated or reposted anywhere else but on my own blog and AO3.⚠️‼️

This is for you, my dearest @buckysdollforlife.

Masterlist

You blinked yourself awake that morning, not immediately remembering what you had to do later. When the memory hit you, you almost physically recoiled, the sadness hit you like a punch to the gut. The emptiness in your chest was like nothing you’d felt up until this point.

He must’ve sensed you were awake, because you felt his arm tighten around your waist as you were assaulted by the memory of the last couple of weeks. You were so grateful to be able to lean on him during this entire thing.

“How are you feeling, darlin’?”

“Is this a nightmare, Jake?” you asked him quietly and without turning around to look at him. “Is that why everything sucks? Am I still asleep, stuck in some never ending hellscape?”

Jake pulled you back, tighter against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder and leaving a trail of soft kisses.

“I wish I could say yes. I wish I could say this was all just a nightmare and you’ll wake up in a world where she’s still here. I’m sorry that I can’t. I’d give anything to give her back to you.”

You turned around in his arms and placed a hand on his cheek.

“I know you would. That’s why I love you.” You gave him a small smile and leaned in for a peck on his lips. “Thank you for everything you’ve done during this whole thing.”

“You don’t have to thank me”, he said with that cocky smile only Jake Seresin could give. “You’re my person.”

You were still somewhat numb to the world by the time your aunt’s funeral came around and you had intended to simply dress in black, but Jake convinced you to have a bath and surprised you with your favorite bath bomb from LUSH. As you sat soaking in the glittery blue water thanks to the Intergalactic bath bomb, Jake washed your hair and scrubbed away the tears tracks on your face.

You still dressed in black, but wore a cardigan with yellow and blue flowers, your aunt’s favorite. When you were finished getting ready, you sat on the edge of your bed to watch Jake finish getting ready.

“You don’t have to dress all fancy, you know.” Jake looks at you in the mirror and smiles.

“I know darlin’...”, he replies as he slides his belt through the loops of his dark blue pants, making sure the clip was on the correct side of the buckle. “...but your aunt always said she loved a man in uniform, so I wanted to do this for her.”

“Jake…I just fixed my face.”

“Now, sweetheart, ya know there ain’t nothin’ ‘bout that face I’d fix, right?”

“Ok, wow, Mr. Texas”, you said with a laugh. “Your accent is sometimes almost non-existent and sometimes, just super strong.”

“It happens.” He flipped his shirt collar up and turned to face you, holding his tie. “Would you mind helpin’ a guy out?”

You stood and took the tie from him, placing it under the collar, and tied it in a Windsor knot. When you finished, you carefully took his coat from the hangar and held it open for him. After he slid his arms in, you smoothed the shoulders out and helped him adjust the lapels.

“Thanks sweetheart.” You unzipped the protective cover of Jake’s white service cap and handed it to him.

“Lookin’ good lieutenant.”

“You ready to go?”

“Do we have to?

“We do.”

“Let’s do this.”

The funeral had been lovely, a lot of the parts of the ceremony had been chosen by your aunt, like the music and flowers.

She’d also asked for the reception following the funeral to be held at the Hard Deck, as she’d fallen in love with the place after you took her there to meet the Daggers a few years ago. Penny was more than happy to oblige.

After thanking everyone for coming, and having a few bites, you wandered outside and sat in the sand to watch the waves crash. You felt the tears start to fall as you remembered the last time you were here with your aunt…

It was a gorgeous day. Your aunt was perched in her beach chair, you next to her, as you both watched the Daggers play their weekly scheduled game of Dogfight Football. Jake screamed out as he scored a touchdown, pointing at you with the ball and a smile.

“Hold on to that one, Sweet Pea.” You turned to look at your aunt with a smile.

“I plan on it.” You both smiled as you continued to watch them all play.

“He’s going to be the one you’ll need to lean on when I’m gone.”

“Please, don’t remind me”, you replied, trying to hold back tears. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

Your aunt took your hand in hers and pulled it towards her, placing a kiss on the knuckles. The Daggers cheered loudly as Coyote ran down the beach and scored a touchdown. Jake jumped up and down next to his friend as he celebrated.

“Oof, that boy sure is something”, your aunt said, with a bite of her lip.

“Nah”, you replied, smiling at Jake’s cheers with his team. “He’s everything.”

Jake watched you sitting in the sand from the back deck of the Hard Deck.

“How’re they doing?” Startled out of his thoughts, Jake turned to see Rooster, Coyote, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, and Phoenix standing around him.

“Not well, but that’s to be expected. Their aunt meant a lot to ‘em”, Jake replied. He looked back over at you and saw your shoulders shaking. “Excuse me guys, it seems I’m needed.”

He hopped off the back and headed towards you. When he made it to you, he sat behind you, a leg on either side, pulling you back towards him.

“Let it out sweetheart, I’ve got ya.”

“It’s not fair Jake! She didn’t deserve what happened to her! She’s going to miss everything, like if we get married or have kids or when you get promoted and all the awesome places I promised to take her if you happened to get stationed somewhere exotic.”

“You wanna marry me and have kids?” You smacked him on the leg.

“That’s what you got from all that?”

“I’m sorry darlin’”, he said as he squeezed you tight. “Please continue.”

“I just miss her so much. She was so special to me.”

“I understand, I felt the same way when my grandma passed. I didn’t think I’d ever be okay. I don’t think I’m okay now, and it’s been years! If I talk about Nana Seresin, I will start crying.” He kissed you on your temple. “I am by no means an expert in grief, but what I know is that it will get better, no matter how cliché that sounds. One day, that stabbing pain you feel will dull, and it’ll be just like a bruise. You’ll be able to think of her and all the memories you’ve got of her without crying and look back on them with happiness.”

“When will that happen Jake?”

“I don’t know sweetheart. It’s different for everyone.”

“What if I forget her?”

“You won’t. You know why?” You shook your head. “You’ll never forget her because a part of her will always live on in you, and everyone’s hearts she touched. The squad will never let you forget because they loved your aunt too. We’ll help remind you every day.”

You sat up straight and turned to look at him and placed your hands on his cheeks, running your thumbs over them.

“When did you get so smart, Lieutenant?”

“I’ve always been this smart sweetheart.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“And don’t you forget.”

PS: I'm real sorry if I made you cry my friend!

#Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin x you #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin x gn!reader #Jake Seresin angst #Jake Seresin fanfiction

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby 3 ~ Tommy Shelby x OC series

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Summary: Tommy and Charlotte meet again, where they both least expect

Note: Thank you so much for the positive feedback - Tommy has some making up to do, but will he even get to it?

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Warning: Physical violence. Expect canon conforming tone and mention of violence. I am of age and so my content is created for that intended audience. If you are a minor, please leave. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Wordcount: 4881 words

Part 3

[Previously]

Before he had even fully passed the threshold, the scent of potatoes, of boiled vegetables and salty broth filled his nose.

Thomas Shelby would never order soup or stew at a restaurant. He had had his fill in his lifetime, thin, more often than not, and stretched with all sorts of things he’d rather not think of now. But it had been better than nothing and even now there was some comfort to be found in it- simple, honest food to keep your belly full and your limbs warm.

More than many could want.

And these men were more than glad for it.

“Our volunteers prepare and serve the food, which is paid for by our patrons.”

“Patrons?”, he asked, as he followed the steps of the woman past the thick old wooden tables, trying to let his eyes linger on the faces and not the stumps.

Mrs. Wollerston was her name a woman of about fifty, who looked like he imagined every headmistress in history had ever looked, not that he had ever seen one, with thin lips, small eyes and a long black dress.

Officially, it was under the patronage of the church, but they only sported the location.

The rest was done, as always, by uncredited women in the shadows.

Apparently the Anglicans in London were no different than the Catholics in Birmingham when it came to that.

“Oh yes.”, she continued, her large keychain clinking with every step. “We are lucky to have the support of an association of charitable Ladies based in London, who have taken the fundraising upon themselves.”

“No government involvement?”, he wanted to know.

It wasn’t a bad place, no. It was clean and large, if a bit cold, but not too bad.

For the summer.

In winter, the real problems would start.

Mrs. Wollerston shook her head. “No, unfortunately not.”

So they let the men fight for them but don’t feed them after.

He wasn't surprised.

They were a sorry lot, sporting lost limbs, blinded eyes, and burned faces, some wearing little more than rags. One man had a large stick instead of a proper crutch.

And Tommy looked at their faces.

The dead were being praised with words like “We shall remember them” but those that came back, had been forgotten.

Poor bastards, he thought, if they had died for their king he would have treated them with more kindness.

Alive, they were useless, a burden.

Dead, they would have been heroes and a credit to the nation.

“I’ll show myself around.”, he told her and turned away without waiting for a response.

Tommy approached the large table at the back, where volunteers were handing out the food. They seemed to have been served some meat stew and sliced bread.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but it looked decent enough.

From the other side of the long queue, he could see two women coming from the back, one holding a jug of water, the other a cup of tea.

For a split second he thought his mind was playing a trick on him, especially as she now had her back turned, prohibiting him from seeing her face.

But it was still enough.

Her hair was pulled back by a white hairband to keep it out of the way, not unsimilar to the ones the nurses wore. She was wearing an apron over a simple dark green dress.

But her shoes, brown leather shoes looked to be brand new, polished to a shine, with not a single scratch to be seen. Her stockings were real and not drawn on, with not the slightest nick or scratch.

Tommy knew expensive things when he saw them.

Walking back along the queue, he followed her to where the other men were sitting, watching her do their rounds.

By the time he got to hear her voice, there was no doubt.

She wore no jewellery apart from small studs he only saw occasionally when the light hit it, which wasn't rare but fleeting, as she moved around quickly.

“Good day Mr. Hubert.”, she said to the one armed man who sat in the corner of a table-

“G’day.”, he replied.

“Would you like to have a refill on your tea?”

“Yes please.”

She then moved on to a Mr. Verser apparently, who didn’t want tea but told her that the phantom pains in his leg got worse.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”, she told him, before serving another veteran.

They seemed to like her, or at least liked what they saw.

Perhaps they knew who she was and felt flattered, or perhaps they were relieved that someone actually looked at them, and didn’t shrink away at the sight of their scars.

Her voice, he noted, was just as bright and chirpy as he remembered it, as if she was talking to the handsome Patrick Melbourne and not the scarred Mr Vesper who had lost his cheek and ear to the flames.

Then she saw him and for a split second her eyes widened in alarm, but then the discipline of her class reined in her emotions.

She wouldn’t have made him want to get under her skin more if she tried.

So he did try.

“I don’t have a cup.”, he said, as he approached her, meeting her between two of the wooden tables that sat three men on each side.

“Eva hands them out to the veterans.”, she explained, the essence of chilly politeness and cold professionalism.

“I am a veteran.”, he reminded her, his hands pushed deep in his pockets.

She looked him up and down.

“But I don’t believe you to be a charity case, Mr. Shelby.”

He couldn't argue with that, and very nearly smirked.

When she moved on, he followed.

“What are you doing here?”, he wanted to know, nodding around the room.

It was no place for a lady, at least not the kind of place one would go to look for one.

“Pouring tea, as you can see.", she explained, as she made her way towards the other desk.

“Why?”

She built herself up to her full height and glared at him, her eyes burning in an icy fury.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Shelby. But I’d hate to keep everyone waiting.”

With that, she brushed him off like a piece of dust and walked away, not even bothering to storm off, which irked him more than it should.

He was still watching her when Mrs Wollerston joined him.

“Are you satisfied, Mr. Shelby?”, she wanted to know.

"I am considering a donation to your organisation.", He told her, seeing no need for niceties and games.

Besides, she wanted something from him.

"We feel honoured. A war hero like yourself-"

He inhaled sharply as the hair on the back of his neck stood and his shoulder muscles tensed.

"I'd like to talk to some people first to get a better impression of how things work here."

The old woman's eyes widened.

"O-oh.", She mumbled, clearly not liking the sound of that, but what could she do? It was his money after all. "Well, I would recommend-"

"Charlotte Crawley."

"The Lady C-Charlotte?", She asked, utterly baffled now.

"Yes.", He said. "I know her and I'd like to talk to her."

I know she’s a terrible liar.

She swallowed hard and nodded, already on her way to fetch her.

"Actually no.", He said suddenly, "Let her finish. I'll wait."

He wasn't more important than his companions who had taken more serious wounds than he had. Besides, that would give him the time to talk to them too.

And so Tommy Shelby sat down at one of the tables among them.

All too soon the stories came back, the usual questions.

Where were you? Under whom? How did you get it?

He hated talking about France, even thinking about it, but he could talk with the men here.

It was as if they all spoke a language no one else had ever learned.

They understood the things they said and the things they didn't.

But he made sure he wasn't talking when she was anywhere close, same way he did when Ada, Finn or Polly were around.

And he also watched her, her smiles and her chatter, the way she was so bright around them, so caring and unafraid.

If she was working for him and wasted that amount of time, he’d have fired her, but if she was his waitress, he would have tipped her well.

As time passed, the room cleared bit by bit until only a few people remained and the girls started cleaning up.

"Now would be a good time.", He told Mrs. Wollerston.

The woman looked like sour milk in light of his instructions, but she nodded and strode over to Charlotte, telling her to come.

And she did.

With her shift nearly over, her hair was left a lot more untidy than he had seen before.

During the riding weekend she had been perfectly groomed like the rest of the ladies and the horses, but now a few strands had become loose and the stray hairs had freed themselves.

And she was still wearing that apron.

It made her look more homely, more approachable and somehow more vulnerable. Not like a great lady at all.

"You really have waited.", She said. "I am surprised."

"So am I. To see you here."

Charlotte glanced down at her hands, which she held in front of her chest.

"Well I am."

"Why?"

"To help of course.", She said at once. “We owe these men a great debt of gratitude.”

He huffed and pulled out his cigarette case.

Always these words, these fucking words.

He had heard them more times than he could count, and would give less than the dirt under his shoes for them. He had not believed them, not once.

It was not like he didn’t believe she meant what she said, but she couldn’t understand - how could she? How could anyone?

He brought the cigarette to his lips and let it relax the muscles on his back that had tensed without him knowing, and watched her through the smoke like it was some veil.

But was it a veil that hid the world from her that hadn’t been lifted or one that had been placed over him after France?

She stared at him from a mask of unreadable emotion as if her likeness had already been captured by an artist, ready to hang in a family home for all eternity.

She wouldn’t crack, not until he pushed her.

“How did you find this place?”, he wanted to know, tapping his cigarette.

"My aunt is one of the patrons, Lady Rosamund Painswick."

It was one of the names that had been mentioned by Mrs. Wollerston earlier, as if it had some great meaning, but he didn’t care.

"That's her. What about you?"

Charlotte glared at him.

"Are you always this forward?", she demanded to know.

He stared at her for a second.

"Yeah."

She huffed slightly.

"I don’t want to impose, but it can come across as quite inconsiderate."

Maybe I'm forward but you are not. Not a straight answer if a distraction or a change of topic will do.

Her hands gave her away again, only this time they weren’t tapping. Now she was clutching them together tightly to prevent just that. If she had worn dinner gloves, he wouldn’t have seen the thin white lines under her fingers. But her hands were bare now, and there wasn't even a place to hide them.

Her voice, however, sounded unaffected as he lifted her gaze again, after almost half a minute of silence.

“If this is some sort of display of power to make me apologise for our last encounter,”, she said sharply, “I refuse to. I stand by what I said.”

He had expected nothing less.

“However,”, she continued, wringing her hands before pressing it to her chest, touching something under the fabric.

“I was made aware that you are interested in becoming a donor.”

Tommy huffed in approval.

She inhaled sharply and he could see she wasn’t exactly enjoying this conversation my her hands alone.

“I’d hope you wouldn’t let our past differences stand in the way stand in the way of that.”

She glanced down at her hands and smoothed down the apron.

“It wouldn’t.”, he assured her, before letting the silence take over again, not missing the slight breath of relief that went through her.

So it really was important to her.

It was Charlotte who broke the silence, after she had been avoiding to meet his gaze.

“Might I ask why you wanted to see to me of all people?”, she asked impatiently. “Since you have clearly no intention of talking to me.”

That tugged at his lips once more.

Good question indeed.

And one he didn’t have an answer to.

When she realised he wouldn’t have a response, she sighed.

“Well, I hope your visit was enlightening but I do need to to get on.”

He dismissed her with a nod and got up, and taking another drag of his cigarette, watched her walk off.

She looked almost normal now, with a simple dress and an apron, hair that wasn’t perfect, and hands that weren’t hidden in gloves.

Like an ordinary girl.

Tommy Shelby put the cigarette out forcefully and left without another word.

But before he got back to his office, he stopped by the library.

“Ada?”, he shouted, his voice booming across the arched hall.

“Ada, where are you?”

He ignored all the “Shhs!” and outraged shaking of heads as he passed, his footsteps alone louder than any conversation they might have had.

“Are you mad?”, She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest as she saw him, standing on some ladder.

“You can’t just come in here like that!”

“Well I just did, eh.”, Tommy said, offering her a hand as she climbed down.

Ada ignored it.

Well enough.

“I need you to find me anything you can about the Crawley family.”

Ada pursed her lips.

“Tommy - I don’t work for you!”, she reminded him sharply.

“Yeah but you work for the library, so get me the stuff, just like you got me the other ones.”

“That was a favour!”, she hissed, before her features softened. “And a thank you for the house.”

A couple of books and a lot of newspapers for a house, eh?

“Just get it for me.”, he tried.

“Will you at least tell me why? Are they to do with-”

“No.”, he said quickly. “At least not more than any other family.”

Since they all married each other there wasn’t much to go around.

“Crawley family,”, he repeated. “Their title is Earl of Grantham and they have a…castle in Yorkshire. I need to know about them.”

He couldn’t exactly ask May. The last time he had relied on her for that kind of information, it had ended poorly for him, although he couldn’t put that on her.

“Earls?”, Ada gasped. “Seriously, Tommy? What kind of business do you have with an Earl now?”

He didn’t respond to that.

After all, he didn’t know himself yet- he just…had to know.

“So get me the books and get me the newspapers. Alright?”

She stared up at him in disapproval and clicked her tongue.

“Please?”, he asked impatiently.

“Fine. But you’re not taking them to Birmingham. You can look at them at my house.”

He could feel her disapproval as he stormed off, but that didn’t change things.

“What are you upto Tommy?”, she called, but he didn’t answer. He wasn’t even sure himself yet.

He returned to the soup kitchen nearly a week after, but that did not mean his thoughts hadn't wandered there earlier.

Once he had arrived, he immediately scanned the room for the now familiar frame.

And Tommy surprised himself when he realised he was glad to see her. This time it was her that helped carry the trays of those that could no longer balance properly.

If he didn’t know, he wouldn’t have thought she was different to the girl cutting the bread, and the woman handing out tea, or the other one who took the dishes away.

Only he knew now and he wouldn’t forget.

… first mention in 1273 of Sir Ralph de Craule in the service of Edward I…

It was like he was staring history in the face.

… 1539 made Viscounts Downton by Henry VIII….

But she was wearing the same apron, the same cloth on her hair, so one could have thought she was, but she wasn't. She was similar but not the same.

…elevated to Earls of Grantham by King George III in 1772…

As he entered, Mrs. Wollerstons rushed towards him.

“Mr. Shelby, I feared we would have heard the last of you.”, she greeted, sweat on her brow.

“No.”, he said, only slowly turning to look at her.

“Then have you decided?”

“Yes.”

The silence made her quiver and smile nervously.

“I think we should sit down somewhere to discuss the details.”, he said.

“Of course, of course, Mr. Shelby. Follow me.”

As he walked along the lines of tables, he felt a pair of eyes on him. When he reached the small door to the back, he turned and saw her looking at him. And he met her gaze for a moment, and a moment more than she seemed to be comfortable with, as she quickly averted her eyes and hurried along.

Only then, did he enter.

It was a small office, but furnished with a lot more money than would have been necessary. The office chair was leather, the carafe looked like crystal.

As she sat down behind the desk, he took his place in front of it, watching her put down her glasses.

Soon she was telling him about other donors and patrons, the influence of the church and more.

“Would your donation be regular?”, she asked. “Monthly perhaps, or weekly?”

“Perhaps.”

She raised her eyebrow.

“I will pay in cash.”, he finally said. “You’ve got the food sorted but these men also need clothes, shoes and other things like - ah - soap and cigarettes.”

“Oh the church won’t like that.”, she argued.

Tommy fished the cigarette case out of his pocket and put one between his lips.

“I am not the church.”, he said, smoke escaping his lips.

Wollerston's nose wrinkled, but kept her lips firmly shut.

If money talks the world listens, eh?

“I think that would be a possibility.”, she finally said.

“Ah will it?”, Tommy asked, feigning surprise.

“You see, we are usually focussed on providing the men with what they need.”

“And they need cigarettes.”

Her jaw clenched so hard, he thought it might snap.

“I presume arrangements can be made for care packages.”

He stared at her as he took another drag.

“Including cigarettes.”

They stared at each other, but it was her that broke first.

Obviously.

So Tommy took the next step.

“Make a list of content for these care packages including prices. Send it to this address.”

He placed a business card on the table. “We will review the list and make changes. Then you will know the extent and frequency of my donation.”

Mrs. Wollerston’s face was so sour, he was prepared for an amusing lecture when she opened her mouth, but then they heard a crash coming from the hall. And screaming- panicked, half mad, animalistic screaming.

It was a sound, Tommy knew all too well.

The cigarette slipped from his fingers and was forgotten before it hit the ground as he rushed out of the office and into the mayhem in the hall.

A table had been toppled, spreading food, cutlery and broken dishes over the floor.

One chair had snapped a leg and was laying shattered against the wall.

The men had done their best to move away and give him space, their faces white with fear and their eyes wide.

They knew what it was, as did he. There was no soldier in the world who didn’t recognise this.

The man, who was in the middle of it wasn’t particularly tall nor strong, more a wiry build with a fallen face. He was hiding behind the toppled table, screaming on the top of his lungs, his eyes staring a thousand yards away into the distance.

One of the men walked up to him.

“You need to stop that!”

When he touched his shoulder, the man lashed out, tackling him and slamming him against the wall.

And Tommy clicked into action.

He knew what needed to be done. He had done it too many times before.

Coming up right behind, he wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders from behind and pulled him up, away from the poor sod who had gotten involved without truly knowing what to do.

The man was thrashing and kicking violently, and he had trouble even holding onto him.

But for now he had to get him away from the other man, as the shrill shrieking rang in his ears.

“Oi,”, Tommy bellowed, his voice cutting through the screams. “What’s his name?”

“Wilkins.”, one responded, sending him in even a madder state.

Trying to control him was like trying to ride a mad horse and Tommy was slowly slipping of the saddle.

“His first name!”, he roared, pushing the man towards the wall, and putting his whole weight into it.

“Harry!”, came from somewhere.

It fucking better be Harry, Tommy thought, trapping him between his body and the wall.

“Harry? Harry, it’s alright!”, he shouted into his ear, his nose brushing against the sweaty, greasy strands of his hair.

“You’re not in France, you’re in England, eh? You’re back.”

He grunted as he caught a kick to his knee and loosened his grip for but a moment. While it wasn’t enough for the man to slip his grip, it was enough for him to bring them both crashing to the ground.

When he landed on top of him, it forced the air from his lungs.

Tommy tried to turn, to get him off of him and to subdue him on the floor, but he was thrashing so violently, it was all he could do not to let go of him. At least this way only he was getting hit and not some other veteran who couldn’t properly defend themselves.

Between his inability to properly breathe from the weight on his chest, his thrashing and the screaming, he didn’t notice until it was too late.

“Stay clear!”, he bellowed at her just as Harry Wilkins caught her with a wild arm to the shoulder, knocking her onto her back. She caught herself with her hands but wasn’t deterred for long.

This time she approached from behind both their heads and not from the side like before.

But it was the same with horses - if one approached them from where they can’t see it always ended badly.

“I said stay clear!”, he roared, but she didn’t listen. Instead she knelt down behind his head and reached forward, taking the man’s face in between her trembling hands.

It was like trying to catch a rabid dog, but she succeeded after a while.

“Hush.”, she told him, clasping the sides of his head. “Hush, Harry.”

Her voice was soft and breathy, and only he and Tommy could hear.

“Hush, Harry. You’re safe. You’re home.”

Harry began to shake his head violently.

“No. No, no, no, no. They’re coming. They’re here. I know it. They’re here soon!”

She has him talking!

That was a good sign if ever there was one. After all mad men couldn’t talk.

“No one’s coming.”, she assured him. “You’re safe. I promise!”

Tommy felt the other man’s thrashing slow down.

“You promise?”, he whispered, shaking violently.

“Of course I promise, Harry. I’m right here and you are safe. We are both safe.”

“We’re safe?”, he asked. “We’re safe?”

“Yes, we are, Harry. You’re safe. I’m safe. And we are home.”

When the sobs came, Tommy let his head fall back onto the cold ground and exhaled, still holding onto the man.

But he too could relax his grip.

Other men came and with her, helped pick him up.

“Come now, it’s alright.”

Another tried to help Tommy up, but he did so himself, walking to the edge of the wall and bracing himself in his knees, one hand resting against the old stone. It was the cold that calmed him.

Fuck, he thought, taking a moment to catch his breath.

It never got easier.

Wiping his brow with his sleeve, he coughed.

Even while he was still facing the wall, he could pinpoint the moment when the realisation of what he did fully hit the man as a flurry of apologies escaped his lips, mixed with hiccups sobs.

“Take him to the back.”, Mrs. Wollerston instructed.

Tommy was surprised to see her get involved, but she put her arm around the man, who left the room sobbing.

The veterans and the volunteers seemed to be in a competition about who was paler, all avoiding eye contact. After all that noise, the silence was deafening.

But then it was Charlotte who spoke up, stepping into the middle of the room with her hands behind her back. Her heels made strange clicking sounds on the floor, echoing through the silent hall.

“Goodness.”, she said, her voice loud and surprisingly confident, even if it was a bit breathless, placing her right hand on her chest. “Why don’t you take a seat again and we will bring you all a cup of tea. I think we'd all fancy a cup.”

With a nod to the other girls they hurried to move the chairs from the toppled table to the others, before helping them sit down.

With the adrenaline still pulsing through his body, rage began to boil in the pit of his stomach.

“You!”, Tommy snarled, storming over to her, his heart still racing.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, away from the others. She was having problems keeping up, her shoes scraping on the floor as he dragged her away.

She flinched as he pushed her against the wall.

“That,”, he told her, hissing the words as he glared down at her “was fucking foolish!”

Her eyes widened but she didn’t look shocked. She looked angry now.

“I told you to get back and you didn’t!”

I ordered you.

She was only a foolish little girl and no match for a man that size, let alone in that state.

Didn’t she know what could have happened? He could have her on her back in no time, could have strangled her or bashed her head in like a melon and there would have been nothing he or anyone else could have done-

Foolish, stupid, naive- She lifted her chin to meet his eyes but at the same time he felt as if she was looking down at him.

“Indeed, I did not.”, she said, “But I’m very grateful for your assistance, Mr. Shelby.”

With that, she freed her arm and walked back to the others, her hands under her apron.

Tommy leaned his back against the wall and lit another cigarette.

Then he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out the refill packet and the matches.

“Oi.”, he called to get their attention, before tossing them both at a table of veterans.

They needed them too and mumbled their thanks.

The talks from before had vanished completely, as had the appetite.

While the volunteers served the veterans, he glanced over at the wreckage, trying to calm his racing heart.

The chair was firewood now, but the table only toppled. The plates were shattered, the food spread. The glasses were done for too, shattered to a thousand pieces. The food was spilled and spoiled, but it wasn’t like water and a mop couldn’t remove the stains of stew and - fuck

“Thank you very much for intervening.”, Mrs. Wollerston said, coming up behind him.

He nodded without sparing her a second chance.

“He alright?”

“He’s shaken.”

That’s a word for it.

“Is he hurt?”, Tommy wanted to know, his eyes never leaving the floor.

“I-I don’t think so.”, she admitted. “A few bruises perhaps.”

Tommy responded with silence, letting smoke escape his lips.

“Any cuts?”, he asked.

“No.”

Tommy nodded and dropped the cigarette to the floor, finishing it off with his shoes, a mere inches from the evidence.

Then he walked back over to Charlotte, who had her right hand on the back of a veteran.

When she saw him, she turned, glancing at him unsure.

Her other hand was in her apron pocket.

“Lady Charlotte,”, he said, making sure to be polite this once. She had earned it.

“I want to apologise for snapping at you earlier.”, he said, stretching out his hand for a handshake.

His left hand.

She glanced at it, then at him, her own hands still concealed.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby.", She tried, offering him a smile.

He glanced at her and then back at his still outstretched hand, as her eyes widened in the realisation.

“Show me.”

End of Part 3

Part 4

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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mercerislandbooks · 10 months

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Thoughts On Summer Reading

As someone who's on social media—specifically the book part of Instagram—a fair amount, I hear a lot about how different people read. Some read the next book they plan to read, have five more books lined up after that, and for the most part they'll get them read in that order. Others read whatever strikes their fancy whenever it strikes their fancy. I am a mood reader at heart, but one who wedges in that library book that she's had checked out for months which she DID really want to read at the time so now she better stop in the middle of her other six current reads to rush through it in time to return it tomorrow... which is exactly what I'm going to resume doing once I finish this blog post. So maybe I'm a mood reader with "obligatory books" hanging over her head.

Part of being a mood reader is the fluctuation of what I want to read each season. For the fall, witchy books like The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches, Spells for Forgetting, Wild Is the Witch, and The League of Gentlewomen Witches. In the winter it was mostly science fiction by Becky Chambers. But the most talked about season in the reading community has to be summer. Summer reads, beach reads, vacation reads. Light books that you fall into and out of like a summer fling. This fits the traditional idea of summer reads that we all know and love, but the genres included in summer reading lists have expanded over the past few years. We at Island Books put together a shelf full of summer books for every reader, surrounded by sticky notes with suns and right next to our Staff Picks shelf.

Last summer, all I read was romance. Intense feelings crammed into a book I could read in a day. The happy ending, the guarantee of peace and satisfaction. I picked up several fantasy books and put them down again immediately—any effort to learn about a made-up world felt like too much. This summer, rather than a specific genre, I've been catching up on my backlog. I finished the Anne of Green Gables series for the first time and found it delightful. I listened to The City of Brass and all of its sequels while traveling. I read the first two books of The Borrowers, finished the Seafire trilogy, and sped through books two and three of The Thursday Murder Club. I finally pulled out my two-year-old copy of Red, White & Royal Blue and devoured it in twenty-four hours (just in time for the release of the movie on August 11). Although it's a completely different path than I took last summer, it's been so fun to discover these books for the first time and then discuss them with everyone who already loves them. I look forward to seeing where my mood reading takes me next summer.

Things that make a good summer read (one list does not fit all):

Not too heavy (physically); needs to be light enough to bring on vacation

Not too heavy (content-wise); needs to be light enough to read on a beach

Characters that draw you in

A plot that grips you

Romance

Intense action

...And the list goes on and on.

Bonus points for reading a book that's set on a beach...on a beach. The perfect summer read is so varied from person to person that the most important criteria is to pick up a book that interests you. I look forward to hearing about what you loved as we talk books over the counter.

—Becca

#island books #becca oman #summer reading #thursday murder club #red white and royal blue #becky chambers #anne of green gables #tbr #spells for forgetting #city of brass #the borrowers #wild is the witch #league of gentlewomen witches #very secret society of irregular witches

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pngboomer · 9 months

Text

Things that help with focus/productivity, while I'm thinking about it.

This is by no means a comprehensive list but as someone who struggles with keeping up with workflow (especially going back to college), and balancing taking real breaks and how my brain works/keeps up with tasks, I've tried a lot of different apps, methods, and other such stuff -- especially stuff targeted toward ADHD brains and such.

So here is a non-exhaustive list of things I've tried and my rough opinions on them. A Disclaimer: I prefer handwriting things and tend to lose or forget things if they are on a screen. So please take any application/browser use with that grain of salt.

Notion

Calendar, wiki-maker, to-do list tracker, automation and innovation that excites. I get very overwhelmed in Notion, there's so much you can do there, but I get the interest in how it works and such. I use it to track my reading list (a snippet shown below) and a few other things that I don't really want to put somewhere else (because the tables on Notion auto-format, which is nice), so it's like a good 4/10 for me.

Obsidian

The markdown file creator and organization vault system. It's daunting to get into, a bit confusing at first, but there's a ton of videos on how to get started and how to get organized and it's so nice to have everything link together in a way that follows a legitimate train of thought. You will have to force it to be your second brain, but I like it so much better than other note-taking apps. 9/10 (it is so terrifying to get into). Bonus, though, look at my baby:

Google Calendar

yanno, one of the OGs. I want to use Microsoft calendar but that application has crashed every device I have tried to open it on. Google Calendar is good for organizing events, doing all the stuff calendar's do, and setting up recurring events and editing them with little hassle. I don't work in a team or need anyone to look at my calendar's except me, so I can't speak to that functionality, but I know it's used by a lot of people for that reason. 7/10 just because I only recently learned how to customize colors.

Microsoft Calendar

just to be fair. It would be an amazing application: integrated to-do list that is in-app, a very clean weekly look, sticky notes, all of it is hooked directly into the window you're looking at your emails at, it can auto-set reminders on a separate tab for you. Except, again, it has crashed every single piece of technology I own, including my university desktops. Just from opening it. 2/10 for wasted potential. If it works for you, I am so happy for you, but I cannot get it to work for me and that's what I'm focused on here.

Bullet Journaling

Another classic. Ryder Carrol was on something else. Quick, efficient, a great way to use up the notebooks you bought that you swore you'd use and then didn't touch for months because it "wasn't the right thing to use it for". You don't need the special dot-grid book, you don't need fancy fucking layouts. You just need a pen, some kind of notebook, and a list of things you need to get done. I love being extra about it, but there's no reason to. It's a good planner, I like having a physical copy of my life to look at and organize my thoughts with, and it's fun to do. 9/10 for easy onboarding and versatile creativity.

Various "Calendar/tracker/etc" Apps

I've gone through the gauntlet on these. Productivity apps that "plant a tree" so long as you don't use your phone so you can get stuff done, group calendar programs and browser applications, minimalist to-do lists on your phone, maximalist to-do lists on your phone, Habitica, etc. Fully ymmv on any of those, I do recommend checking out the to-do lists if you need them, but unless you have a team to manage, you don't need a calendar that isn't Google/iCal/Microsoft realistically.

Sticky Notes

Bad. Terrible idea. I hate doing it, I never remember them, and it feels wasteful. If it works for you, I'm so happy for you (genuine), but I hate it. 1/10.

White Board

Like a physical one. Full opposite of Sticky Notes, I'm not gonna lie. It's delightful, I love having it, it's not wasteful in the same way, and there's a satisfaction to erasing shit off that board. If you can afford a big one, get a big one. I have a desk one and I love it it's so nice to have. 10/10 no notes.

There's not a lot else I can think of at the moment, but thank you for reading if you've gotten this far. I do have YouTube recommendations if you would like to learn to use (say) Obsidian or Notion. I also have videos on formatting Google Calendar.

#personal #productivity

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amothersmagik · 2 years

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Merry Meet!

So, I am climbing up on my soapbox today. I see it asked all the time: "where do I start?"

And every answer seems the same: Research!

Great! But what does that mean? How and where do I research?? ... Starting out in The Craft is both easy and extremely challenging. Prior to the internet, research meant knowing or hoping to randomly meet other Practioners who could guide you. Or, if you were brave, checking a local library. At that point, starting was hard because getting access to information was hard.

Now we have the internet. And the problem exists in reverse. There is now SO much info available that it can be overwhelming at times. It certainly was for my nerodivergent brain. So I have typed up a "brief" summary of my process so that mayhap it will help others::

Research research research! There is so much out there and it can be so overwhelming. How i personally suggest you start? First, accept that you dont need fancy tools and ingredients to be a successful Witch You are enough as you are.

From a research aspect:

1. Look up the major types of spell work. (Candle, Kitchen, Jar, Offering, Sigils, Simmer Pots, Intention Spells, Oils, Sachets, Sprays, etc). This will give you an idea just how broad actual Craft and spellwork can be. Also, it will strike some examples of what to research and give you an idea what you will be most interested in. For example, I primarily love jar spells, sigils, and simmer pots.

2. Make a list of a couple types of spells or works that interest you. Like healing, self love, cord cuttings, etc. This will give you a list to work of to then build your research plan/database.

PLEASE NOTE, I PERSONALLY RECCOMEND THAT YOU DO NOT ATTEMPT ANY OF THESE SPELLS YET. I AM SUGGESTING YOU MAP THIS ALL OUT SO YOU HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING OF THE BREADTH OF THE CRAFT. It will also help you decide what kind of Crafter you will likely be. Personally, I am eclectic, and grey with very white leanings. I am not actually Wiccan, though the Wiccan aspect plays a huge role in my Craft.

Huge massive tip in looking stuff up? Using google or your fav search engine, type "metaphysical properties of____" or "magickal/magical correspondences of____" or simply "_____ Correspondences" and you can either read the articles and links or simply look through the images section. Though not everything will have extensive info available.

3. Pick a random spell. Anything. Now RESEARCH what doing that spell would entail. This will give you an idea of what kinds of things to research and where you want to put your emphasis.

For example, I wanted to do an anti anxiety spell. So I researched that. Discovered I have a flair for sigils. Then quickly realized I am an AVID Jar spell kinda gal 😅😁 So I then went searching for jar spells for anti anxiety to see what would be required. Then realized how many different ways there are to do one. Which lead me to research crystals and herbs to find what ingredients to use for what. Which lead to me making my own comprehensive hard physical copy (alphabetical, might I add) of all the herbs and plants I could find and their many uses. Did the same with crystals. Then candles and their color meanings. Which lead to color magick research.

(..... It has now been 3 years since I went looking for that anti anxiety spell and I haven't performed it yet. I HAVE found so much peace within myself as I have settled into my Craft by learning. Because remember, witchcraft is NOT always JUST about performing spells. Anyway... back on topic)

I quickly realized how much info there was out there to learn and how to go about it.

Id also research the sabbats and all they entail.

Research deities for future knowledge. Though I suggest waiting on actual deity work until you are further down your path but that is a personal preference.

Research cleansing types and methods.

At the end of the day, your path and your Craft is your own. Follow your intuition and instincts. Follow your heart and soul. And do as much as you can to research something before casting. Google is your friend. Also, i have a list of books. If you want it, just as a place to start, let me know :)

Once you start spell craft, I found it easiest to start with Sigils, once I got the hang of those, I moved on to simmer pots and candle magick (easiest ingredients to get ahold of for me). After getting comfortable with those, I moved on to Offering Spells. Then Jar Spells. I have more or less stopped there in my actual spell progression, as I have found I excel at and greatly enjoy Jar Spells. I have also ventured into oil rollers, sprays, sachets, etc. And I occasionally do rituals, like cord cuttings or ritual baths, but have not overly ventured in those directions. As such, I research as needed for those types of spells.

Shadow work and observing the Sabbats were also a huge learning opportunity for me.

People always say "do your shadow work" and it took me forever to realize they mean working on yourself. Facing your inner demons. Accepting your faults and working to correct those you can. Accepting yourself for who you are and learning to love yourself and be happy with who you are.

Researching the Sabbats and how the many cultures celebrate and honor them gave me another way to research and learn and then work that new knowledge into my craft. People jump over a fire during Beltane. Why? There is a good research topic for you. Yellow flowers, why are they important in the spring? Why are apples associated with fertility. What kinds of activities are engaged in for Samhain? Why?

And along the way of these activities and researching, you will find yourself learning things that can help you elsewhere. Like learning about the color green and its importance at Beltane will later help you in health and fertility spells.

I think I started actually performing spells about 1/4 of my way through all this research. Once I had a good enough basis to understand the materials I was working with and knew my energy and magic enough to feel comfortable and confident in my workings.

I still perform lots of research regularly, but have reached a comfort zone in my Craft where I don't do big things every day, or even every week, but I work my craft in in little ways, sometimes even unconsciously. I have found I am happy, comfortable, confident and at peace with my self and the life I live. And a stable and reliable Craft is a great addition to that peace, if not outright the building blocks for it in my case.

My inbox is open if anyone has questions. Wants to chat. Wants a new witchy friend. Etc. As a Polyamorous, Pansexual, Christian Druidic Mother and Wife who is 420 friendly...... I am an open book with nothing to hide and virtually no judgement left in my brain. I don't care who you are. Do no harm, take no shit and we will be a-okay :)

Merry Part and Blessed Be

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monster-bait · 2 years

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I just finished Run Run Rabbit. Well done. Super amazing. I remember reading your og posts for these stories that you are now publishing. When you would post little snippets. I am so excited to be able to actually get your books.

Now how does kindle unlimited support you?

Do you get more compensation for your work if i buy your book?

I'm curious as to the best way to support my favorite content creators. Aka you.

Aaaaaa, you're so sweet!

When I posted the Run, Run Rabbit snippet on patreon earlier this year, I had no idea the way Grayson and Vanessa were going to take over my brain, lol! I have a deleted scene from the book going on Patreon (as soon as I clear a deadline on my desk that needs to happen, like...today) and I'm going to be posting a short of their Bora Bora vacation with my newsletter!

As far as author compensation - this is a question I'm asked a lot, and we talk about it often enough on my discord server, but I'm not sure I've ever really answered the question here.

Authors ARE compensated for both ebooks and KU.

For a 280 page book (which is about 50k-60k words) the KU payout is approx $.0045 per page read, which comes out to $1.26 a book, if and only if the reader taps through every single page all the way until the end.

Authors make approx $2.50 on an ebook purchase from a book of commensurate length, if the book retails at $3.99 (almost all of my books retail for $2.99-$4.99)

The same book in paperback, if printed in black and white with no fancy interior needs, that retails at $12.99, will net an author about $4.50

(please note all this is approximate)

Assuming the reader is only interested in digital books, the absolute most wonderful way to compensate your authors is to borrow the book though KU FIRST, flip through until the end, and then purchase the ebook for your permanent collection once you've returned the KU book.

Buying books directly from the author is the best way to support, but I totally understand that's a big commitment of both funds and space for physical copies. Patreon, merch, etc are all ways of support as well, obviously!

Most authors I know, myself included, really don't care HOW a readers consumes our work - as long as you're not pirating it, which is both stealing directly from us, and threatening our ability to put books into KU in the first place, or reading and returning your ebooks. If someone reads one of my books through KU and then leaves a rating on Amazon, that's enough to make me happy!

💖💖💖

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realm4m3 · 10 months

Text

Virtual Sketchbook Section 3

DESCRIBE PHYSICAL QUALITIES (THE FACTS)

What is it made of? Oil on Canvas

How big is it? 148x260 in.(375.9x660.4cm)

(Include details as if you were using words to help a blind person “see” it.)

What colors and shapes are used? Gold, black, purple, white, red, a cross, patterns, light colors

What subjects (if any) are represented? There is a king in a throne with his imperial crown, his counselors on the benches, a man who is description the scroll and some angel in the back.

How was the work designed? Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant uses scenes from the 6th century for his work, he also copied costumes and jewelry from ancient sources.

Is it balanced? Yes, it is symmetrical, and everything is even

What is emphasized? Rhythm? Proportion? A king that is distinctive with the rest as he is on the throne with black clothes and gold crosses while the other is in different clothes, being lower than him. They all have fancy clothes besides the one man that is reading the scrolls, the patterns on the wall are very similar. Have a total of 7 people, like a judge there.

Contrast? Does it have unity and variety? Yeah, the difference are the people clothes, showing higher power compared to the one man, and how the king has 6 counselors.

THIS PART IS ALL ABOUT YOU:

How does the work make you feel? It makes me feel pleased with the time and effort that was put in into this art. The details are clear, and it was a great experience to see it in person.

How or why does it evoke these feelings? Normally, I or some see these pictures online and don’t really know how it would be if you were there. The fact that someone did this back in the day without that much technology or none is impressive, especially because of the size it is.

NOW RESEARCH:

The person that is in the picture is known as emperor Justinian I. He is also called Justinian the Great; he was the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) emperor during the time of 527 to 565. He is also best known for his efforts to strengthen the empire and to normalize Roman law. The artist is named Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant, he was born in French, in 1845-1902. He studied at a place called the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Toulouse, he was also a pupil of Alexandre Cabanel. This would later influence him strongly in his early artistic development, “He learned anatomy, drawing from the ancient statuary and the composition of history painting. His brilliant studies were rewarded by the great painting prize he shared with his friend the painter Jean-Andre Rixens.”

THINKING:

What movement is the art work associated with? An Eastern Roman emperor named Justinian I. The artist made it large on purpose, in hopes of winning a grand medal but never did.

Example: If it’s from the Renaissance, who commissioned it? If it’s a portrait, who is the subject?

What does the artwork say about the artist that made it? The person is very talented and gifted. It also shows that he was passionate about the artwork.

Can you tell what the artist was trying to say? He was trying to hit big, and he achieved it since it is incredible. I can see that he was going for the Roman empire in this art.

How clearly does the artist get their message across? It is very clear on what he was aiming for, you see a king with his counselors, and someone reading from the scroll. It is big, large, and very hard to miss.

THE LAST (most important) PART:

How much talent we had back then and the power we can do with our mind. Were able to create such fantastic pieces of art and display it around the world, make people be amazed that someone did that. Now a days, you won’t be able to see such similar artwork or designs anymore. We have stuff like banana tape on the wall making up to 100,000, if not more, which is ridiculousness. The reason why I choose this painting was because it stands out among the rest, I really like how it was, the color choice, how big it was compared to me, and when it was made. This inspires me to do better in my artwork and to achieve great things like this.

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banskotravel · 2 years

Photo

ATIIENS IN SIX HOURS

On getting up at six in the morning of the 28th, we found land about us in all directions. Passing the islands of Poros and Egina—the former possessing a fine arsenal, with every capability for building large ships on English principles, if the money could but be found; and the latter, the remains of a noble temple —on our left, and Sunium on our right, we came to anchor in the Pirseus about half past nine.

Levantine fancy costumes

It was here that I found myself in the midst of the first Levantine fancy costumes, that attract the traveller’s attention—the real well-known bright Albanian dress of the masquerades and panoramic paper hangings, to say nothing of Madame Tussaud’s Byron. One after another, picturesque fellows, in clean white kilts, so to speak, and scarlet leggings, shot off from the shore in light boats, which they rowed admirably, having adopted our own fashion from the people of the Ionian Islands. As soon as they had surrounded the bottom of* the steamer’s ladder, they commenced fighting in a most furious manner to get the best position; banging each other with boat-hooks and large sticks, which they had evidently brought with them for the nonce, and climbing up the sides of the packet, like cats. In vain the crew of the Sccimanclre repulsed them—brushing them back into the swarm of boats, to get freshly beaten by their fellows on whom they tumbled—they were up again like wasps in an instant; and the passengers had enough to do to avoid being involved in the battle, which continued even on deck, amongst the hotel touters.

“ I say, sir ! here, sir ! Hotel d’Orient is the best. Here’s the card, sir—old palace—Murray says ver good,” cried one of the costumes.

“Hi!” screamed another; “don’t go with him, master—too dear ! Come with me!”

The parties were immediately engaged in single combat.

“ Hotel d’Angleterre a Athenes, tenu par Elias Polichronopulos et Yani Adamopulos,” shouted another, all in a breath ; I copy the names from the card he gave me, for they were such as no one could remember tour bulgaria.

“Yes, sir; good hotel,” said his companion. “ Look in Murray, sir—page 24—there, sir : here, sir: look, sir !”

“ Who believes Murray ?” asked a fellow in plain clothes, with a strong Irish accent.

“You would, if he put down your house in the handbook,” replied another.

They all appeared to have, more or less, a know- – ledge of English.

At length, by dint of great strength of mind, combined with physical force, a few of us got into a boat, (having been told that the packet would wait until next morning in the harbour,) and we were soon

standing on the quay of the Piraeus, the town being a collection of small newly-built houses, consisting chiefly of merchants’ stores, customs establishments, and agents’ offices, with some inferior cafes, on one of which was written “ Grogs-shop” intended, I suppose, as a translation of the more classical OtWeoXsov, on the other shutter. A nominal examination of the luggage of such of the passengers as were going to land took place on the quay, and every one was then allowed to go where he pleased. Just.then a good- looking fellow, in an Albanian dress, stepped up to our party and proffered his services as guide, for the day, to Athens. His name was Demetri Pomoni; he spoke excellent English, and told us “ that he was a subject of Queen Victoria ; that he had lived in London, and that we should find his name in the eternal Murray, page 25.” They had all got their position by heart. We engaged Demetri for the day, and hiring a shabby hack carriage, from a cluster of regular country railway flies, drawn up in cab-stand rank upon the port, we started off at a dismal pace for Athens, distant about five miles.

#ATIIENS IN SIX HOURS

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sunasjellyfruit · 2 years

Text

Haikyuu boys love language

Nekoma edition.

Karasuno, Aoba Johsai.

Characters: Lev, Fukunaga, Yamamoto, Kenma, Yaku, Kai and Kuroo.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

Lev Haiba.

He's so cute, i can't think of him as someone whose love language isn't words of affirmation. But he's also a bit clumsy and blunt, so one day he can be like "oh no baby, that shirt is horrible, please take it off" trying to be nice and helpful (without thinking that his words might have hurted you) and the next moment after looking at your eyes he would say "well you know what? You always look pretty so don't worry" and then he would kiss your forehead. And he always compliments your style or how you look early in the mornings, so at least you recieve a positive message every day. Oh and Lev is so energetic and cheerful that if you ever feel sad he would try to share his happiness with you by telling you how special you are and how important your actions are.

Shohei Fukunaga.

He's seem to be quiet and supportive with his teammates, and I don't know why but gift giving suits him. And I haven't chosen this because I think that he would spend all his money on you, but because i think that he loves little details. It can be a flower he saw on his way to school that reminded him of you and he took it to give it to you later, or a beautiful ring that his little sister taught him to make with a white stone and some golden wire. And he loves to bake simple recipes like special coffees or cookies and then he would bring them to your next date as a surprise.

Taketora Yamamoto.

He's very similar to Tanaka so words of affirmation would have been the safe option, but once he gets an s/o im sure that he can't keep his hands to himself, he has to touch you (basically physical touch hehe). The moment you two are together, he would first hug you, your arms are so comforting and you are so warm, he loves it so much. Then he would kiss you softly while he mutters a quiet "hello beautiful, how are you today?" (i love him so much omg im so sad rn). And it has become an habit that when you two are sitting together you will rest you head in his shoulder while he has an arm around yours, or gently holding your waist just to squeeze it from time to time to make sure that you're not falling asleep.

Kenma Kozume.

He's my favourite character, im gonna take this to a personal level. We all know that he's reserved and he might be seen as someone cold, while in reality he really cares about others. This is what makes me think that his love language can be either acts of service or quality time. He's not the biggest fan of cuddling or going to fancy dates, but if you two end up in his room, under a blanket and playing videogames then he's definitely having the time of his life. And if you're ever having problems with whatever, he'll be there for you without even thinking about it. You can pass a certain leven in a videogame? He's there to teach you how. You need help with some homework? He's not gonna give you his homework for you to copy it but he will help you and explain it to you so you understand the subject. And if you're ever bored you can call him with the excuse that you don't have anything to do and he will start a list of "things that y/n can do instead of calling me" (don't worry, the first one is visiting him with a videogame for you two to play)

Morisuke Yaku.

Quality time. And he does love dates. It's actually his favourite activity to do with you, take you out wherever you want. If a new film has just been released, then you two are buying two tickets to be the first watching it. And if a new café has been opened then he's taking you there to see how the place is, if the cakes are tasty and all those things. And the best dates are when you try hobbies that the other enjoys. For exaple if you like drawing or painting, Yaku will prepare a date in the park with some food, the perfect ambience for you two to spend the afternoon painting and sharing what you're doing (even if it ends up being a disaster, he loves everything you do). And if you ask him to teach you some volleyball, you have his entire heart, as he would take the opportunity to play (or teach) you while at the same time practice with his teammates. Don't worry, he has told Kuro and Kai to not be very hard with you.

Nobuyuki Kai.

He's calm and polite, and in my opinion words of affirmation suits him pretty well. As the vice-capitan, he's used to encourage the others to give their best and to cheer them, so when he's with you he can't help but to act similar. But he genuinely likes to praise you, because he adores how your face turns red and how you smile as if it was the first time that he mumbles a "I can't believe how beautiful you are". And there's no other person who listens to you as attentively as Kai does, especially if you're talking about something that he thinks is important (which is basically everything that you say). If you're ever stressed about school he's gonna be there for you, checking if you're all right, asking you if you need anything and reminding you that he's there for you.

Tetsurō Kuroo.

As he's the capitan and a third year student i think that he doesn't have much time, but he still loves to spend time close with his s/o. That's why i would say that physical touch and quality time are his love language. He loves having you near, being able to pull you close and hug you when he's stressed, or hold your hand when he feels like he needs some support. I also find him as someone who can be a bit jealous, but because he doesn't trust other people, so having an arm around your waist is also common for him. But behind doors he's a big soft boy who only wants to give you lots of kisses and affection. And when you two finally have some time for yourselves, and when you finally can have a proper date he's taking you to the most amazing places, even if that means going out of the town. But if you two are too busy with studies, the team, school in general or just your personal problems then Kuroo is more than happy to just have a small date in your house where he can help you to memorize various study topics if it means that he can have you sitting on his lap and with his hands on your thighs, or resting his chin on your shoulders just to slowly kiss your cheek if you answer correctly.

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 3 years

Text

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 18 of 27: Revelations

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHOOSE ME INSTEAD MASTERLIST CHOOSE ME INSTEAD PLAYLIST

A/N: So many people said that they suspect drama is about to happen at the Winter Dance. lol, you all know me too well. Thank you for all the support, my loves <33

Words: 4.5k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: mention of eating disorders, swearing

You saw him first.

He stood at the end of the stairs, next to Theodore Nott. The Slytherins were laughing about a joke that got drowned out in the chatter of the other students. Still, the scene unfolding in front of you tugged at your heartstrings. Nott looked up and when he saw you, he nudged Draco with his elbow and a smirk on his face.

You came down alone, nervously lifting your dress with one hand, trying not to stumble and fall. Draco turned his head and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. At the end of the stairs, he extended his arm and you took his hand. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on it – such an old-school, traditional thing to do. Something you would have rolled your eyes at just a few months ago.

“You look …”, he began but closed his mouth.

You looked at him and wondered if he liked your dress. (And also wondered why the hell you cared about that.)

“Stunning, beautiful, gorgeous,” Nott said when Draco remained silent. “All of them are words you could describe your girlfriend with, Draco.”

You chuckled and Nott took a step forward to greet you, placing a kiss on your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden friendliness. Nott had always been more on the quiet side, hardly ever engaging in house rivalries. Yet, he used to be cold and distant to non-Slytherins. So this gesture was definitely startling.

“What he said,” Draco smirked at you. “You’re beautiful.”

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself,” you admitted, reaching forward to touch the bow tie around his neck. “Who’s your date then, Nott?”, you asked the other Slytherin.

“Theo.”

“Hm?”

“Theo,” he repeated himself. “You’ve been dating for how long now? Call me Theo.”

“Okay,” you replied, even more surprised now. Had you made it into the inner circle of the Slytherins? Did they accept you already? “Y/N.”

“There she is,” Theo nodded in the direction of the stairs. “Have fun, see you later.” And with that, he left the two of you. You followed him with your eyes; how he walked up the stairs towards a girl with a smile that lit up the whole room. She wore a green velvet dress that complimented her dark skin beautifully. Theo kissed her on the cheek and said something that made her laugh. You recognized her – she was a year below you. And she was a Hufflepuff. And …

“She’s a half-blood,” you stated without taking your eyes off the couple.

Draco snorted. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you nodded, still in awe at the simple fact that someone like Theodore Nott would even see girls who weren’t purebloods.

“Why does he always copy me?”

You furrowed your brows at the comment and looked over to Draco. “What?”

He shrugged. “I get a non-Slytherin girlfriend and now he tries to do the same.”

“Merlin, Draco,” you rolled your eyes. Yet another thought entered your mind, one that caused nothing but confusion inside of you as you didn’t know what to do with it:

He said ‘girlfriend’. He didn’t put the ‘fake’ in front of it.

***

The Winter Dance was everything you had hoped for – and more.

They decorated the Great Hall beautifully. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in golden light. Snowflakes danced above your heads, vanishing into thin air mere inches before they would have touched you. There were tables with white and golden linens all around where students could take a break for a moment while getting something to eat and drink from the refilling plates. In the middle of the hall was the dance floor – so far, not many students dared to get on it. It was still too early. You spotted Luna and Neville, laughing and holding hands while jumping up and down.

“Can you consider this a dance?”, you leaned over and asked Draco. He raised an eyebrow in response but couldn’t hide an amused smile.

Soft music came from an invisible source around you. When you saw the small stage behind the dance floor, you wondered if there would be a band performing tonight like at the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament.

“They outdid themselves,” you said.

Draco shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on! You must admit it looks beautiful.”

“You look beautiful, darling,” he replied.

***

You don’t know if it had been minutes or hours since you walked in the Great Hall – all you knew was that your hair wasn’t in perfect condition anymore, your feet hurt and you were thirsty. Draco danced like a young god. That didn’t surprise you at all, however, you didn’t expect him to do it so freely.

At some point a band whose name you had never heard before started to play. The songs changed from teacher-approved to faster and louder music. It reminded you so much of the Yule Ball, it physically hurt.

There wasn’t much talking going on between you and Draco that night. Just a lot of laughing and singing and dancing. Happiness rushed through your bodies and in those moments, no one else existed. Only you and him.

That was, however, until your best friend tapped Draco on the shoulder: Astoria Greengrass. The two of you came to an abrupt halt.

“May I have this dance?”, she shouted over the loud music, a smug smile on her lips. The Slytherin looked gorgeous in her green satin dress and those emerald earrings that shone brightly in the light of the chandeliers.

“Astoria,” Draco said, out of breath. “Absolutely not.”

The smile remained plastered on her pretty face. “Just one dance? With your future fiancée?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. Without noticing it, the grip on his hand tightened. The constant reminder of their soon-to-be-made betrothal slowly turned annoying. Draco looked at you and your intertwined hands.

“No,” he repeated himself.

What she did next surprised you: she laughed. A short high-pitched laugh. You flinched. “Draco,” she purred his name, taking a step closer. “Just. One. Dance.”

And then it hit you. Like a tile falling from the roof of the astronomy tower, the realization crashed into you. For the first time in forever, you saw her. You looked beyond the beautiful face and what you saw frightened you. She was thin. So thin that it made you wonder how she could stand upright, let alone walk or dance. Her skin was pale but not a “Slytherins-that-spend-to-much-time-in-the-dungeons”-pale. No, it reminded you of a ghost when you saw the blue veins underneath it as it stretched over her sharp collarbones. Astoria gripped her dress tightly but it didn’t stop her hand from shaking. Dark circles underneath her eyes decorated her face and her lips trembled.

Something was very, very wrong.

“It’s fine, Draco.”

He turned his head quickly and frowned.

“It’s fine,” you said empathetically.

He didn’t understand. Neither did you. But the desperation found in Astoria made you feel … pity for her. Judging by her narrowed eyes, she sensed that as well – and she hated it.

You leaned over to Draco and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he could protest further, you left.

***

“That band is amazing, how have I never heard of them before?” You dropped onto the chair next to Ginny.

“Because you live behind a rock,” she replied. Strands of red hair hung into her face, her cheeks were red and she stretched her legs in an attempt to relax her muscles. “I haven’t danced that much in years. Everything hurts.”

You groaned in agreement. Letting your eyes wander through the Hall and over your classmates, you spotted Draco and Astoria. They stood together closely and Draco had his hands on her hips. It was a slow song and they moved accordingly, swaying to the music. He didn’t meet her eyes yet you saw how Astoria stared at him, her lips moving.

“Trouble in paradise?”, Ginny asked. She had followed your gaze and watched the two Slytherins with curiosity.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Then why’s he dancing with her?”

“Have you noticed something about Greengrass?”, you wanted to know.

Ginny tilted her head. “Huh.” Then she shrugged. “Not really. I’m not looking at her that often.”

Same, you thought ironically. You had so much contact with her and yet you never noticed anything else behind her strange behavior.

“She’s thin, isn’t she?”, you pondered.

Another shrug. “Aren’t eating disorders something they inherit along with their mansions and fancy clothes?”

Normally, that comment would have made you chuckle. Now, you didn’t react and kept your eyes locked on Greengrass. Ginny watched you awkwardly and was probably very relieved when Harry appeared with two drinks in his hands.

You wondered if Astorias appearance had anything to do with her odd behavior. Then again, you couldn’t really tell if her behavior was strange or not. You hardly ever spoke to her before this school year and had kept a safe distance from the Slytherins. Most of what you knew came from Draco and that wasn’t much. Besides, Draco had been too busy with himself this school year. You were pretty sure that he wouldn’t have noticed if anything was off about her.

A second song came on. Slow again. Greengrass was still talking but this time, she inched even closer. You narrowed your eyes.

“They’re cozy,” Ginny stated nonchalantly and Harry grinned.

That was enough. You rose to your feet swiftly and crossed the room in seconds. “I think I remember something about just one dance?”

Draco took a step back. Astoria copied him. She ignored you, staring at Draco as if she waited for him to say something. His face was blank, he avoided looking at her. The loud music blaring from the stage didn’t hide the heavy tension between them. You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.

“Nothing, Draco?”, she finally asked. You barely understood it over the singing students next to you. “You have nothing to say?”

His eyes darted to you. The look in them caused a shiver to run down your spine. You had seen it before. After the evening in his dorm when he came to you again in the Room of Requirements. Guilt.

“Not tonight.” He straightened his back and reached for your hand. You didn’t resist. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Talk about what? About their engagement?

Astoria scoffed. “Well then,” she shot you one last look. “Enjoy your night.”

“Everything alright?”, you asked when she was gone.

Draco pulled you closer and the two of you started swaying to the rhythm of the next song. “Sure.” His eyes travelled over the crowd as if he was looking for someone. Looking for her.

You stopped and let go of his hands. “Don’t.” Your voice was calm but firm. You wouldn’t accept this behavior. You weren’t his mother or Zabini or even Greengrass, where he could just avoid questions and give one-worded lies as answers. “We’re beyond this.”

Draco sighed. You saw it by the way his chest rose. After another brief moment of hesitation, he grabbed your hand and pulled you from the dance area. He walked until the two of you had passed the tables and leaned against a few steps away from the huge wooden door that led outside.

“Is this about your engagement?”, you wanted to know impatiently.

Draco opened his mouth and closed it again. You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Kind of,” he admitted. “I can’t say.”

A cold, heavy feeling set in your stomach. “Kind of?”

Draco let out a deep breath and reached for your arms to pull you close again. This time, you resisted. “Yes,” he nodded. “I really can’t say.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I can’t,” his tone grew harder at your accusation. You narrowed your eyes.

“Look, Y/N, it’s something that doesn’t concern you. It’s personal for her and I don’t know enough to speak about this to you. She asked me not to.”

“Our arrangement is personal too and I’d like to know if it’s going to end soon,” you shot back. The feeling in your stomach grew heavier when you thought about the word end. It had only just begun. You didn’t want it to end. Not yet, at least.

To your surprise, Draco just snorted. “What we have isn’t going to end anytime soon if I have it my way,” he tried to reassure you. Again, he reached for your arms. Hesitantly, you let him pull you close. “It’s just not my secret to tell.”

You sighed. A part of you had to admit that you understood where he was coming from. If anything, it spoke for his character that he didn’t just blurt out whatever she had told him. “Since when do you care about these things?”

“Slytherin’s honor,” he replied simply and shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?” The corners of your mouth twitched.

“It doesn’t matter if I like her or not,” he explained. “She told me something and I won’t repeat it to others.”

“Because she’s a Slytherin?”

Draco nodded. “When three out of three other houses hate you, you have to stick together.”

You chuckled and leaned against him. “Makes sense. I don’t think everyone hates you though.”

“There are always exceptions to the rule.”

***

Late that night …

“The Weasel is looking at you.”

You chuckled against Draco’s chest. “I guarantee you, he looking at you.”

It was late and only a few of your classmates could still be found in the Great Hall; most of them sixth and seventh graders. Some of the teachers sat together on a table, watching the remaining students.

After the talk with Draco about Greengrass, you had gone back to dance and drink. It’d be lie to say you simply forgot about this even though you were certain that Draco would tell you all about it when the time came. But of course, the nagging feeling didn’t leave you. What could she have told him that was so shocking? What secrets were left in their families that he wasn’t able to look her in the eyes afterwards?

Only when Seamus slipped you one of his famous drinks did you start to relax a little and pushed the thought to the back of your brain. It was the same for Draco even though you saw how his expression would change once he spotted one of the Greengrass sisters. Was Daphne involved?

Involved in what?, you wondered when he twirled you around.

“Hm.”

The sound made you look at the Slytherin. “What is it?”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?” You followed his gaze. Ron stood a few meters away from you, hands on Hermiones hips. She had her eyes closed as she moved to the slow sounds, unaware of her boyfriend’s preoccupation.

“I still can’t believe you let him-“

“Draco!”, you glared at him.

He shook his head before asking: “Was he any good though?”

You snorted. Was he serious? Judging by the way he waited for an answer, he was. “I had my fun,” you finally said diplomatically.

Again, Draco shook his head. He looked back and forth between you and the Weasley. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that information.”

“Don’t ask me stuff if you’re not prepared for the answer,” you gave a half shrug.

***

The stones felt cold against your back when Draco pressed you up against the wall. The teachers had officially ended the Winter Dance just a few minutes earlier. Not wanting to go to bed early (or rather – go to bed separately), Draco and you snuck outside to the inner courtyard.

There was a storm raging on tonight. It rained heavily, the drops clattering against the ancient walls and the air was chilly. The two of you didn’t notice any of it. All you felt was his body against yours and his hands on your hips. He kissed you, deep and slow, with a longing that you blamed on the alcohol from Seamus. You buried your hands in his hair, chuckling as he playfully bit on your lower lip.

“Hey lovebirds! Get a room already!”, the interruption broke your kiss.

Draco cursed under his breath and turned his head, ready to tell them to leave you two alone. The words got stuck in his throat when he saw who it was.

Ron and Hermione looked at you, accompanied by Harry and Ginny. Rons stare reminded you of the one you got on your face when Moaning Myrtle would overflow the toilets again – utterly disgusted. Hermione squeezed his hand, a mixture of annoyance and nervousness written over her face. Ginny looked the same and Harry just seemed deeply confused.

“Oh for fucks sake!”, Ron exclaimed dramatically when he recognized Draco.

“Ignore him,” you said and held onto his arms. “He’s not worth it.” Despite the loud noises of the rain, the Redhead heard you.

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Malfoy!”

Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“Ron, please,” Hermione chimed in, now more annoyed than nervous. “Let’s go inside. It’s late.”

“Yes, why don’t you just piss off, Weasel?”, Draco scoffed.

“Or what?”, Ron spat. “You tell your father?”

You rolled your eyes but Draco was quick to answer: “No, I’ll make just sure you’ll end up in the same place as him.”

“Ron, let’s go,” Hermione insisted.

He ignored her. “Oooooh, now you really scared me, Malfoy!”

“Draco, come on.” You sensed that this would end badly if no one would step in. Your eyes flickered to the door leading inside the castle, unsure whether you wanted a teacher to come out now or not.

“Ron, we’re leaving!”

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. They had taken a few steps back and you saw how Harry opened his mouth. Ginny hissed something and he closed it again.

“No, we’re not done here.”

Your eyes darted back to Ron at his sentence. “Not done with what, Ron?”, you barked. “Just fucking go back inside. There’s really no need for this.”

He stared at Draco. The Slytherin straightened his back and his posture told Ron without any words what he thought of him. I’m better than you, it screamed. Arrogance dripped out of his every pore. You were taken aback by it – not having seen this side of him for a long time now. You had almost forgotten it was still there.

A sense of dread washed over you when you realized: Something’s about to happen.

Suddenly, a smug expression appeared on his face. Oh-oh.

“What?”, Ron spat out when he saw it.

“Nothing,” Draco replied but the smirk stayed.

“No, you arrogant prick! Spit it out!”

“It’s just hilarious how obsessed you are with her. Still.”

Lightning struck and your blood froze. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Draco, don’t!”, you hissed.

From the corner of your eye you saw how Hermione frowned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ron still sounded firm but he grew pale. You were sure that Hermione noticed it as well.

“Sure,” Draco leaned against the wall next to you.

“I don’t know what she told you but –”

Anger. The feeling that began to boil up inside of you was exactly that – the anger you had swallowed down for months now. The rage, Draco had managed to calm down at least for a few weeks. He had made you forget it was even there, turning the memory of Ron and your last summer into a distant dream. Something so insignificant to you, it made the flies living in the Forbidden Forest seem more important.

Now, it was back. Right when you realized that the coward wanted to lie about you and him again.

“That sentence better not ends with ‘it’s not true’,” you blurted out. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Wait, wait, what’s this about?” Hermione took a step back. Deep lines decorated her forehead as her eyes darted back and forth between you and Ron.

Her boyfriend turned to her, wanting to reach out but she wouldn’t have it. She was now outside the shelter from the roof and raindrops landed on her pretty red dress. “Nothing, Mione,” Ron said. “I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You scoffed.

“Just help me understand one thing, Weasel,” Draco – falsely encouraged by your reaction – began again.

“Draco, don’t!”

“Is this about the fact that she’s with me now or because you’re still in love with her?”

Lightning struck again.

“Draco!”, you gasped and so did Hermione.

“Okay, shut the fuck up now, Malfoy!”, Harry finally chimed in. “Let’s go!”

“No, no no,” Hermione muttered. You hardly understood her over the storm. “Wait, I don’t get it.” She raised her hands. “Ron, what’s going on?”

“Hermione …”, you began and even Ginny, who had been quite until now, started talking. More voices mixed in together – Harry and Draco cursing at each other, Ron trying to get Hermione to listen to him.

“QUIET!”

Silence. Immediate silence followed her scream. Hermione took a deep breath. “Quiet now!”, she repeated herself. “Everyone, please.” She turned to Ron, her voice surprisingly calm and collected again: “You’ve been acting weird around Y/N for months now. Don’t think I didn’t notice. What’s going on?”

More silence.

“Ron.”

“I … we …”, he stammered. Your heart sunk.

“Oh god,” the muggle expression slipped out of her mouth. Tears began to form in her eyes.

“Mione …”, Ron began.

“You weren’t together,” you quickly said, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference now. Yet, you had to try. “It happened over the summer when you were … on a break. He ended it because he loves you and wanted to get back with you.”

Ron nodded violently. “Yes, yes, Mione, I love you so much!”

“You lied to me for so many months? Both of you?” The look of betrayal in her eyes broke you.

There it was. The lie you had carried with you for months now. It was all out in the open. You had often wondered if the guilt would vanish once the truth would be out. Now you found out that it didn’t. No, in fact it felt even worse. You lied to your best friend, a person who’d take an Unforgivable Curse for you.

And it wasn’t the only lie you told her.

“I’m so sorry …”, you whispered.

“She didn’t want to unnecessarily hurt you! That’s why she didn’t say anything! It meant nothing!”, Ginny suddenly said. Harry’s eyes widened.

“You knew?”, Hermione croaked.

Ginny opened her mouth, then closed it again and looked down to her feet.

“Oh god, oh god …”

“Mione …”, Ron took a step towards her into the rain and wanted to grab her hand.

“No, I … no,” she shook her head, not looking at any of you. “I need … I need space.” She pushed his hands away and turned around. Hermione hurried back inside, almost tripping about her dress twice.

“Mione …”, Ron cried after her.

“Don’t.” That was Harry. “Give her some time.”

For a while, no one said anything. An awkward silence settled between the five of you. Finally, Ron cursed and left as well.

“Why was I the only one who didn’t know about this?”, Harry looked at Ginny.

“Because you’re oblivious to everything and everyone around you,” she replied.

He raised his eyebrows, knowing she was probably right. “Not cool though, guys. Not cool.”

Ginny sighed and turned to you. “You have to fix this.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Another sigh left her lips, then she took Harrys hand and both of them made their way back inside the castle.

There were no sounds except for the howling of the wind and the thunder in the distance. You kept your eyes locked on the door as if you expected Hermione to come back outside any minute now. After a while, a shiver ran down your spine. When you felt Draco putting his jacket over your shoulders, your head snapped in his direction.

“Why the fuck did you say that?!”

He furrowed his brows. “Y/N …”

“Answer me!”

He sighed. “Someone had to say it eventually and –”

“Yes,” you interrupted him. “Someone. Not you! That wasn’t your place.”

“Her own boyfriend lied to her for months now!”

“As if you give a single fuck about her feelings, Draco!”, you fumed. “Stop pretending this was about anything over than your sick need to make yourself feel superior to everyone around you!” You pulled the jacket from your shoulders and threw it at him. “By Merlin, you’re still the same fucking jerk from third grade, aren’t you, Malfoy?!”

***

When you heard the footsteps on the stairs, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Fucking hell, why did he have to care so much?

About an hour had passed since you stormed away from Draco, right after insulting him. You had wandered through Hogwarts – dodging annoying ghosts and Filch until you finally hid up here on the Astronomy Tower.

You wanted to talk to Hermione. Wanted to clear the air and apologize. You never meant to hurt her … not that this excused your behavior at all. However, you knew that she wouldn’t want to see you tonight. She needed time to cool down and you wanted to give that to her. Besides, you were way too upset yourself for any kind of productive talk.

“How did you find me here?”, you asked him.

“I searched all of your usual spots,” Draco replied and sat down next to you. “You’ll freeze to death up here.” He was right. The wind on the Astronomy Tower blew relentlessly. He pulled his wand from his jacket and mumbled a spell. Warmth spread around the two of you, trying to soften your cold and stiffened muscles.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you mumbled. “You hate it up here.”

“I don’t hate it.”

“You never want to come here.”

Draco shrugged. “I used to come here quite often. Grew tired of it eventually, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence as both you watched the dark clouds in the night sky.

“I’m sorry,” Draco finally said.

You remained still.

“It wasn’t my place. I just wanted …”, he stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

You glanced at him. He stared at the wand in his hand.

“You’re not a jerk,” you admitted. “Sorry for that.”

When you insulted him, it came from a place of misdirected anger. He wasn’t the responsible one for Hermiones pain. That was you.

“I am though.”

You chuckled. “Maybe. But you’re not the same jerk from the third grade.”

A small smile appeared on his face. You scooted closer to him and leaned against his body. Draco put an arm around you and together, you watched the storm.

***

A/N: A lot happened in this chapter :D Looking forward to your thoughts on it! Thank you for reading! <3

CHAPTER 19

Choose Me Instead Masterlist Harry Potter Masterlist

Tag List: @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind, @renaissance-confiance, @doitforthevine67, @rinasrights, @flowerpowerpixie, @gold-flowing, @starkssnarks, @bookcornerkins, @harpersmariano, @markedsweetly, @iraniq, @pointlesscoconut, @hvrcruxes, @pillowjj, @idkatee, @magicwithaknife, @graystherapy, @scoote-rankle, @nxstalgicnxbxdy, @sunsetsofanemoia, @tommy-holland, @lordfxxker, @streetfighterrichie, @awaken-the-sirens, @destiels-assbutt13, @pockitparks, @just-addicted-to-bangtan, @cuddlykoala101, @zpandaqueen, @natsiboo, @jjjmaybank, @justmesadgirl, @books-and-tings, @slytherinprincedracom, @katiaw2, @saintkore, @nctnight, @lifestragedy, @obxmxybxnk, @spideydobik , @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @aspiring-ginger, @dracomalfoyswifey, @jpow345, @realistic-breadstick, @abbs-is-tired, @alwaysbeanunknownfan, @niallsarmveinstho, @is-this-a-febreze-commercial, @acciowilltolive, , @sexytholland, @faangirl101, @donttellany1iusetumbler, @mendesmuffinsss, @lilxnvm, @kill-the-teen-memories, @darkusangelus, @itsbebeyyy, @hesaidimcrazy, @jenniweaslee, @hpxpjo, @brisbubble, @xomaymay, @shitnstuffillregret, @serialkillme, @angel-tears15, @panicattheeverywherekid, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @nobleking, @tashii-blr, @ddaeing, @randogirlo-fando-main, @sadgirlnumber92899, @captivateing, @bitchyegirl, @smiithys, @ninipoo1, @intheawks, @nothanksnyla, @calpal-4ever, @dracosathenaeum, @belsandthings, , @kiwi-sloan, @xdmx, @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy, @kvyenxay, @live-awkward, @babebenhardy, @bitchysweets-blog, @cravingmusic, @frau-moon, @ohissandhalasta, @broken-but-beautiful-cassie, @lil-black-heart, @vminenthusiastt, @dracos-sluts, @mrmoonyy, @saucysuazo, @fuzzzwald, @matsuno-nadeshiko, @amber-arsenault , @loveableasshole, @spideycures, @echpr, @shiningstar-byulxx, @twinklebug2282, @bloodiedroses, @klthmef, @ostorian , @bi-chai-tea, @maddieisnotok, @amandaluvssupernatural, @makeoutwithstiles, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @tenclouds, @lovingdracomalfoy, @lannaax, @dr-bitch-bby, @fallinallinmendes, @suckerforparker, @runninglownad, @piercinghorizons, @dosicas, @yanaaaaaaa, @akzer300500 @hoseokslily, @dracofeltonmalfoy, @emilianamason, @tothemoonwithclifford, @gcldreinhart , @angelofthorr, @k-k0129, @musicalmuffindog1410, @andydre4m, @mxl-foyrecs, @seeinorange, @vlgsqd , @justmimithings, @allthevoicesinmyhead, @pipppaaaaalouisee, @yessirrz, @2think2twice2 @spencerreidisbootiful, @find-a-little-faith, @thatguppienamedbae, @emmamarie7708, @dontpanicitsdan @jordaangx, @ceeellewrites, @drxcomvlfx, @7minutes-tomidnight, @coldheartedslytherin, @wingardiumdepressionosa, @perfect-storm95, @danisaur1324, @unlikely-y-bliss, @trentdijklfc66, @saptediavoli, @treestarrrrrrrr, @aangsupremacy

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname

Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3

W/C: 1.7k

Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)

Part 1 Part 6

The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”

You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.

“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.

“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”

Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”

“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”

You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.

You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?

All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.

~*~

Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.

“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.

“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”

At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”

You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.

“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.

You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.

“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”

As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.

“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.

“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”

Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.

“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.

“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.

But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.

So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.

Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM

Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.

Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM

Frankie wrote his message quickly.

Wouldn’t miss it x

He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.

“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.

“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.

“Money?”

“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”

“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.

“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”

“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”

“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”

“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.

“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”

“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”

“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”

Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.

He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish

#the night shift #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

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god-of-entropy · 3 years

Note

sorry this is my first time doing a req, but since you like iida tenya, i was wondering if you had any knight iida tenya headcanons?

So I was re-enacting a bakuiida hurt/comfort scenario I made up for exactly 2 hours since I started during 10:00 pm and it is 12:00 AM

gist of it: bakugou’s inferiority complex acts up and so he doesn’t take care of himself bc he’s too busy training and iida tells him how much he (Katsuki) means to him, (Tenya) and that there aren’t enough numbers that exist that could tell him (Katsuki) how much he (Katsuki) meant to Tenya

and then I remembered my tumblr account and one of the asks I got was “do some knight Iida Tenya headcanons this is my first time doing a req” and I was like oh wow I am v blessed that I am the person who took anon’s req virginity so here we are

CW: few times of cursing, mention of me talking about a car kink

Knight Iida Tenya Headcanons

Part of the King’s guard no I do not. Take criticism

If he isn’t he’s most likely in a very high position of knight rankings in the fantasy AU

His chivalrous spirit could rival canon Kirishima’s

But since Kiri’s a dragon hybrid here,,well

Did I mention

He’s TALL

Like. Bumping his head on every single fucking doorway kind of tall

He is a staggering 6”6

HES TALLER THAN MY BEDROOM WALLS JSJSJ

anyways so like bc he’s so tall he learned the very hard way (literally) that you should not wear a metal cone hat while sliding down ladders

Was this inspired by that one (1) video on YouTube where this guy’s character slid down a really long ladder wearing a golden metal cone hat

I will not agree nor will I deny this accusation

So bc he’s so tall he grudgingly cannot wear a fancy Iida helmet from the prestigious and noble Iida family line

ofc his brother was a knight before him, it’s so obvious

(Speaking about Tensei, his brother wore it anyways even though his brother is taller than him because he was always on horseback anyways, but having to patrol the streets of the kingdom on a daily basis trailing after the King or Prince or whatever he can’t let a helmet hinder him from going after people

Anyways so like because he is So Tall people often make jokes about his height and how rectangular his body was

So poor bby got insecure about his height and prefers not to talk about it, stays silent when someone thinks he can’t hear them whispering and making jokes about his bulky stature

speaking about bulky things his canon costume is lightweight in design because if speed and leg strength makes up 100% of your quirk you can’t have stupid accessories and additional weight.

But of course since what he’s going for (the Ingenium title) is pretty much set in stone, there’s a heavy emphasis in visuals (in canon) so like 90% of his fucking costume is for Decor

And I hate him for that

Because TENYA FOR THE LOVE OF GOD YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE 100% INGENIUM YOU CAN BE YOUR OWN INGENIUM

Even if you were put the pressure on yourself to become like your brother, don’t feel burdened to make sure your hero career is 100% like his

OK I kind of swerved away from topic but since we’re talking about hero costumes and knight armor

Since this is fantasy and most fantasy-ish things are set in a European medieval style because of fucking Hollywood and not in a more traditional Japanese style since apparently fire spitting dragons are cooler than Kitsunes with ten tails, power over nature elements and are literally considered deities—

Knight armor is made of metal, right?

So in that case..his armor would really weigh him down.

But because this is FANTASY and science and physics can go fuck themselves here,

It’s possible that there’s a chance magic could make his armor more lightweight, like Uraraka’s quirk

but like there’s a chance that his armor is ALREADY lightweight because again, canon Tenya really went after the design of his brother’s costume

And his brother’s costume was inspired by his parent’s and grandfather’s own costumes, which kinda looked the same since it had the white modern accents and holes in the helmets kinda aesthetic

SO ASSUMING THAT THE IIDA FAMILY LINE IS V NOBLE AND FAMED FOR BEING IMMERESED IN THE KNIGHTHOOD SHITE FOR A V LONG TIME

And his brother did copy whatever his parents and ancestors’s armor was or whatever

And they’re noble, right—so they’re rich. Because magic exists, plenty of wizards mages and other magic people for hire also exist

Enchanted lightweight metal armor

there’s a reason why you shouldn’t trust knights in shining armor and that’s because if their chest plate is too pristine, that means they’ve never went to battle

Here’s a rule for all you y/ns: don’t trust a knight in shining armor if it’s not enchanted

what I’m saying is if you wanna date Iida, the knight in shining AND enchanted armor, go for it bestie TT

Also His Boots

Assuming he doesn’t have his sexy engines on his calves in this AU

(Or perhaps the sleek, modern looking engines are replaced with steampunk ones O.O)

OK SO WE’RE GOING WITH THE STEAMPUNK MUFFLERS

Because holy shit that’s such a cool fucking concept??

Oh you bet your y/n messy buns that steampunk iida hcs are next

so since fantasy usually goes with at least one (1) “primitive” tribe with their own kind of technology centered around weapons and battle

And that one (1) “”tribe”” that’s an entire fucking kingdom/city like the Carja in the game Horizon Zero Dawn

Speaking of Horizon Zero Dawn, the “primitive” tribe with their own kind of technology centered around battle and more battle are the Banuk

They’re hardcore fam

They give me Bakugou Katsuki vibes because those people would literally rather die than say a challenge is too big to overcome

again going back to the topic: Steampunk

In “”fantasy”” medieval AUS there’s always that one steampunk inventor that’s a Mei Hatsume ripoff (Tangled The Series I’m looking at you)

And of course the Support Students need their time to shine too, so like — Steampunk City let’s gooo

(The closest Horizon Zero Dawn’s “tribe” got to steampunk is whatever the hell the Oseram are doing.)

So now Tenya has sexy, sexy steampunk mufflers that are very well taken care of

god I’m so sorry but me talking about mufflers like they’re a full course meal is reminding me of the time where I joked to my friends that I had a car kink

and not that I had a kink to have sex inside the car, but to be fucked BY the car itself

like your ass being just wrecked by a fucking shalon poofa

if you get that joke get off this site

one of my messages was very specific

It read:

“I eagerly lick car-senpai’s oil of his exhaust pipe”

And Yeah

unsanitary and a health hazard

While discussing about simpable men one of my friends were like

my man has a CAR your man, Tenya Iida, doesn’t

And I just stared at her

Because bitch MY MAN IS THE CAR

anyways if you actually read this may god have mercy on you

<DON’T SKIP THIS PART BECAUSE I CONTINUE>

Because I make the rules

Wouldn’t they be a hindrance to him bc of his metal boots?

So Let Me Tell You A Story

you know the Ingenifoot (the boots in canon Iida’s costume)

It’s special since it has holes punched into it for the mufflers to retract out of

Who says Ingenifoot can’t be steampunk as well?

I DON’T

But it can’t be steampunk bc this is a Knight Iida hcs and not Inventor Steampunk Iida Hcs

So it’s plain boring white carved steel or smth with a small section where a part of the boot flexes for the mufflers to stick out

Speaking of carved steel, Knight Iida’s armor def has intricate details and shite on it

Maybe even his family crest

OK so it is 12:45 AM rn I am gonna sleep

Goodnight

#iida tenya #tenya iida #iida tenya hcs #iida tenya headcanons #knight iida tenya #iida simping hours #will continue dw my loves

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