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[horrorlesbians]

i NEED to sell a lot of my old college and high school clothes bc as much as i love dressing gothic-ish i really don't anymore (boring job problems). i have so much comic and anime merch i need to sell too but first i need to get a p.o box but they're so expensive

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[urbanwood02]

[bgearapparel]

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[accio-victuuri]

their ordinary life. 🏠

i am referencing this post which was allegedly shared in 2021. i like how it’s written and the cpn clues inserted, then making a whole story out of it. a reason why most of us love lrg and other rumor anecdotes is because it’s simple and shows what their day to day life is like. tho they are celebrities with extraordinarily busy lives, the thought of them just being zz and bobo is comforting and sweet. it may be confusing cause there are parts where they are both referenced as they. and then it will switch to “i” as if in the person’s first person pov.

all of this is fake & fanfiction…

they should have a cat and a dog. everyone knows the cat's name is Tao, the dog’s name also matches the cat very well, it’s called Lizi. it’s a puppy ZZ bought it on impulse, but in the end I had to give it to my mother in Chongqing to deal with the aftermath. they have a home in Beijing, with a room full of helmets and musical instruments. there is also a room equipped with a projector, with warm and artistic decoration. when the two people are tired, they can lie here and watch movies together. there is also a big LCD TV, two people playing games to decide the outcome and doing housework.

the kitchen should be well-equipped, but the storage of materials is not alot, both of them are busy and have little time to cook, but there should be someone that makes trouble while the other person is cooking, and the other person will teach. when that person was making hand cakes, he had a headache several times and wanted to curse.

the room they sleep in, well, the bedding must be of high quality, it must be very comfortable and considerate for two people who both have the habit of sleeping naked. someone should install a night light in the toilet so that people who are afraid of the dark can get up in the middle of the night. there will be lights as soon as the toilet is near. there should be a lot of things on the bedside, eye drops, stomach-protecting tablets, Ryukakusan, cough cough... In short, both of them takes good care of your body! there will be a light fragrance in the room. they are all people who love cleanliness, maybe it’s also due to the scented candles.

there is a huge closet, which could have been used as a styling area in the beginning. one will often buy several pieces at a time and wrap them up. the other will also complain that one person loves shopping so much that he is not frugal and knows how to organize his clothes regularly. it was painful to pick out an old model to wear, and taught another person: "See, this is okay. As for clothes, save money and don’t buy so much. You still have a mortgage. ” another smiled and didn’t say anything. clothes that smell like them over time are familiar and reassuring, as if they are by each other’s side. In this way, they give each other company. Sometimes the trip is too urgent and I don’t pay much attention. both people will pack the wrong clothes into their suitcases. there should also be a small gym, where two actors and teachers can work hard. One person is envious of another's eight-pack abs, and the other possesses someone's waist (don't ask me why I know it's possible because I am a barbell. )

both of them have been doing more and more endorsements, and they have a lot of products at home. when the two brothers are in a good mood, they take one out and play with it, jokingly calling it "opening a blind box." most of the time, they kept sending them to my family, and the family group was noisy.

the two of them still can't stay at home most of the time and are always on the road. yes, headphones are a common item. why? because they are used for making phone calls and watching videos and to chat online. I took out my mobile phone to complain after getting off work. i quickly called to tell him that I miss you. people’s true emotions finally have a safe and secure place. how good is this, just wanting someone who can always listen to me in my life. you act coquettishly. you can complain and cry.

i also surfed the Internet, but I just browsed casually, after all, it was all the same rainbow fart, I want to take some time to listen to that person blowing it to me. sometimes it’s annoying to see fans quarreling. i used my account number to tell them to stop arguing, but it didn’t work. just switch to my other account and fight bravely with heizi ( antis ) and lose. until the account was suspended and blocked, then I took screenshots and felt aggrieved. he said, "Baby, look at me, I've lost another number by helping you.". The other person was amused, and he was no longer troubled by the remarks.

the other side is also keen on surfing and secretly saves a lot of emoticons, all of which are like pigs. regarding this, after I sent it, I laughed so hard that I hit the table and couldn’t stop having fun. hey, of course you can hear the voice of someone screaming on the phone: "Why does it have to be a pig?" "I'm a leopard! Not a pig! You What a stinky rabbit!”

they will take care of eating, taking medicine, drinking water, and taking care of each other when they are sick. they will take good care of each other and care for each other. if you are disobedient, it will be known immediately, and you will be punished, and then you will obey because I want to live a long with the other person. if possible, I hope it will be the same in my next life.

he will also get jealous, lose his temper and act awkward. Alas, as an actor, he is still in the entertainment industry. what can I do? Buy gifts, buy food, make phone calls. if you want to talk, send WeChat, and send some updates and stuck points that fans can’t understand.

In the end, I still couldn't coax him, so I could only study how to fight authentically and run to see the other party. the time is very short, and you may only be able to stay in the car, room, or corner. i left after an hour or two, my temper was gone, and I kept looking at the other person. laugh, give a hug, hold hands for a walk, kiss, and talk for a long time. if it's been a long time, your eyes will inevitably turn red when you separate.

“Every time it’s so short, it’s hard to be separated, and I won’t be able to come next time.

“But I miss you.

"...I know, I'll come see you next time."

knowing that there will be an event for two people on the same stage will make them excited for a long time, and they will fall in love at public expense. love, doesn’t it feel good?

no matter what, they won’t understand the meaning of it anyway. meet backstage, eat a meal together, take ugly photos of each other while doing makeup, and fight. let’s sit together and look at our phones and chat about the current situation. the two people at the back looked right at each other when Fang doesn't speak, the staff will consciously go out and leave them alone.

think hard. I miss you even when I walk. I miss you when I sit. kiss the necklace that you bought for me, look at the blue sky and white clouds, draw a picture, then take the archeology test, and look at the other party’s dark history, snap screenshots and make emoticons and throw them over. it’s the happiness that only artists can have when they fall in love, don’t you understand~

regarding the public, the feeling of being watched by millions of people cheering and blessing that summer it’s really good. surrounded by love from all over the world, you will feel that there is nothing better than our happy couple. maybe, one day, wait for the rainbow to come. On that day, I am Lao Wang and he was Lao Xiao. We walked in front of everyone. before, he drew a story about us, told by me since I was 21 years old.

[starry-agere]

hihi <33 you have a rly nice account ^_^

Could you give some ideas for getting (and hiding!) gear? I really need ideas OwO

tyyyyyyy

hi! thank you :D

tips for getting gear:

look on etsy! there are lots of shops on etsy that sell pacis, sippies, teethers etc. i, personally, bought a custom sippy with my name on it that came with both a sippy cup lid and a regular tumbler lid, so it's easy to show someone the cup with tumbler lid if they ask what you bought! i will note that most plain pacis on etsy are way overpriced (usually $10-15 from my memory?). they're cheaper on rearz.ca and pacifieraddict.com, but they ship from canada so shipping can be a bit expensive.

follow agere shops on insta! there's tons of deco paci + general agere shops on there that do discreet shipping. some of my favorites include: @/chubbi_quorn, @/inkys.pacis, @/pups.paci.agere.shop, @/littlest._.creations, and @/baby.shark.binkies.

amazon! you can buy adult pacis on amazon, as well as teethers and baby toys.

check out your local target/walmart/etc! there's tons of cute teethers, toys, snacks, etc made for babies and kids there. plus, you can always order from these stores online and have stuff delivered!

note: i do not recommending buying or using pacis made for babies, as the teats are too small for an adult's mouth and extensive use can cause your teeth to move around. adult pacis were originally made by dentists (to prevent snoring) and are safe for adult mouths!

more under the cut!

tips for hiding gear:

when buying from a shop on etsy, check if they have an option to hide the paci in a stuffie! some shops will ship the paci inside of a stuffie, either with a zipper in its back or they will sew it inside.

keep gear in a bag or box inside of your clothes drawers, closet, or desk. for a long time, i had my pacis inside of a painted wooden box in a desk drawer.

you could also wrap your gear inside of a shirt and tuck it into the back of your dresser or closet

hide gear underneath your bed

get an opaque storage container and keep gear in there

you can buy fake/hallowed out books and store things in there on your shelf

tips for if someone finds your gear:

pacis:

if you're a snorer, say that it's used to prevent snoring at night

say that it helps you calm down from panic attacks

say that it helps with teeth and mouth pain

if it's a deco paci, say that you think it's pretty

teethers:

say that you use it for chewing stims

say that it helps with teeth pain

say that it helps to have something to bite when you're mad

workbooks/kids books:

say that you're collecting for when you have kids in the future

say that you like the pictures

say that they make you nostalgic

say that you like the author so you want to support them

i do want to note that if someone finding your gear would compromise your safety, it probably isn't worth it to buy any. your safety comes above all else, and you're a valid regressor whether you have gear or not!

that ended up being a lot more than i expected! i hope that helps, and you're welcome to send in an ask if you have any questions <3

[digi-lov]

How to find local Digimon Card Game events near you!

First, you'll need the Bandai TCG + app. If you don't have it already, you'll need to create a Bandai Namco account.

You pick the Card Game youre playing, in this case Digimon, and the region you're in.

Then, on the home screen, you can see current events. You can either click events directly or go to event search.

It should apply a filter for your region automatically, but you can also freely edit and apply the search filters.

Then, you can look through the list of events and see if any place is close to you. You can preview the locations on google maps, if like me, location names alone don't tell you much.

When you click on details, you can see date and time, the store and location, event regulations, and further information on the way the store manages the event, such as entry fee, capacity etc.

From my experience, the stores take around 5 to 10 EUR (in Germany) for entry. Usually, this should guarantee a participation pack at the least, and more depending on how well you play.

But you will have to see these things for yourself, as it can differ from store to store, I would guess.

If you go to local events, try, if you can, to support the store, such as buying boosters or pre-ordering displays. I know they are cheaper to buy online, and no shame in that, but do not take online bought display boxes etc. and open them in the store.

(Yes we had this problem in our store, the owners felt very disrespected and almost decided to close the weekly Digimon events.)

Support small businesses. They have to pay for the location, for storage, for their employees, and have to earn a little more than just break even. They can not compete with online bulk buyers who have no physical store, etc. to pay for.

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[bookshelf-in-progress]

The True Story: An Epistolary Novelette

An intrusive fantasy story for @inklings-challenge

I. Christine Hendry to the proprietor of Wright and Co.

Sir or Madam:

I feel like such a fool for reaching out to you--a stranger whose business card happened to be tucked in the pages of an ancient book on my grandmother's shelf. I don't even know if your shop exists anymore; signs are against it, because I can't find so much as a phone number to contact you by. Nothing but an address and a name: Wright and Co.: Specialists in Rare, Antique, and Nonexistent Books.

That last category is the only reason I'm bothering to write at all. I'm looking for what seems to be a nonexistent book, so I may as well try writing to a shop that may or may not be real.

When I was a little girl, my grandmother read to me from a copy of Song of the Seafolk by Marjorie A. Penrose. It was an American children's fantasy from--I believe--the 1950s, all about a family getting mixed up with mermaids on a tiny Atlantic island. It had beautiful black-and-white illustrations, and language so lyrical that I still remember passages even though I haven't read it in nearly twenty years. My grandmother loved it to bits, and read it to me a dozen times after I came to live with her. I went off to college, and jobs, and travel, and I haven't much thought about that book--or, to be honest, my grandmother--since I left the house.

But now Grandma has a broken hip, and there's no one else to care for her, so I've come back. The moment I stepped back into that house, I found I wanted nothing more than to read that book. To her, if possible. I need to return the favor.

But the book is nowhere to be found. I've searched through all her bookshelves (extensive), closets (messy), and storage boxes (many and varied), to no avail. I resigned myself to the necessity of buying a new copy, but there are no new copies for sale. Or any old copies. None in any library. Not even a hint of its existence online. All my inquiries to cashiers and librarians have been met with blank stares. It seems like no one in the world has even heard of that book except my grandmother and me.

So I write to you from sheer desperation. A cry into the void. If your shop does exist, and you are a real person, is there any chance in the world that you have the book I want? Knowing now how rare the book apparently is, I shudder to think of the price you'd charge, but as long as I don't have to sell any limbs to pay for it, I find myself willing to pay almost any price. Of course, that's assuming you're a real person reading this, and you by some miracle have the book, and you haven't thrown this letter away while sneering at the lunatic who wrote it.

If all those things somehow manage to be true, please write back to me at this address, and I assume we'll be able to arrange some method of payment.

Yours, in desperation,

Christine Hendry

II. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Miss Hendry:

I am pleased to inform you that Wright and Co. does still exist, and it maintains its specialty of supplying books that can be found nowhere else. It is unsurprising that you were unable to locate a second copy of the book, because a glance through our sales records show that the book was purchased from this very shop in 1968 (which is likely why your grandmother was in possession of our business card), and comes from our specialized stock of books that exist nowhere else in the world.

These books tend to appear on our shelves at unpredictable times, and rarely in batches of more than one or two, so I feared I would be unable to grant your request. Yet I have sometimes found that these books appear in response to a need, so I searched the shelves, and to my delight, found the book tucked into a corner of our children's section.

The books from our special selection sometimes wander back to our store's shelves when they are no longer needed by their purchasers, and it appears that this is what happened in this case, because the book I found bears signs of ownership by a Mrs. Dorothy Hendry. Since I cannot charge you for your own book, I have taken the liberty of shipping the copy of Song of the Seafolk along with this letter.

I humbly beg your forgiveness for the suffering this has caused, and I sincerely hope Wright and Co. will be able to serve you in any future literary needs.

Faithfully yours,

Benjamin Wright

III. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Mr. Wright:

I'm glad you couldn't see how red my face got when I received your response. It's one thing to send a letter when there's a miniscule chance of a reply, but getting a reply and knowing that a real, living person read your words is a very different (mortifying) thing. I would never have written that letter the way I did if I had fully comprehended that it was going to be read by a complete stranger.

My only consolation is that my letter wasn't half as strange as your reply. What do you mean, the books appear on the shelves and wander back? How on Earth did you send me a copy of my own book??

Because you're right--it's the exact copy I remember from my childhood. The same purple clothbound cover with the mermaid and lighthouse stamped into it. The same jelly stain inside the back cover. Page 54 has a torn corner, and the mermaid on page 126 has a unibrow penciled onto her face. Even if my grandmother hadn't written her name in the cover, I'd have known it for the same book. Yet she would never have donated--or even sold--Song of the Seafolk, even after I moved away. She loved it too much.

Yet somehow you sent it to me. I'm so grateful that I won't even accuse you of sending a ring of book thieves to raid my grandmother's shelves.

I read the book to my grandmother this weekend, and it was like the years fell away, and we were back in the warm glow of my childhood bedroom, completely at ease with the world. The pain medication leaves Grandma foggy sometimes, but there were several points when she smiled, closed her eyes, and recited the book along with me word for word. I'd try to repay you in some way for facilitating that, but some things are priceless.

However you got the book, it seems to prove you're able to achieve the impossible, and because of that, I'm going to bother you with another request. Grandma loves fantasy, but her true love is mystery novels. She has a whole bookshelf devoted to them, mostly Golden Age paperbacks--country house novels, a smattering of noir. I feel like there's so little joy in her life right now, but the one thing I could provide would be a new mystery. Yet, looking at her shelves, I suspect that she's read every book of this type that exists. So I'm going to ask you to live up to that Nonexistent in your name and find me a Golden-Age-esque mystery that no one--not even Grandma--has read yet. If you can achieve that, I would be grateful for whatever you can send me.

Yours with gratitude,

Christine Hendry

IV. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Miss Hendry:

I am afraid I can answer very few of your questions as to the workings of this shop, at least when it comes to our specialized stock. Among the shelves of Wright and Co., there will on occasion appear a book which no employee has ordered--books with unfamiliar titles by unfamiliar authors, which have the appearance of age and wear, but cannot be found in any other shop, and have no history of publication by any firm. Yet there is always a reader--sometimes several, if the shop staff takes to reading it--who finds that it perfectly satisfies their tastes and fills some unmet need, as if the book was dreamt up just for them. These books seem to come into existence just when needed, and sometimes wander away when they're not.

We have several theories about the origins of these books, very few of them sensible. Perhaps they come from other worlds, where history went just a bit differently from ours. Perhaps they are books that authors dreamed up but never wrote. Perhaps they are spontaneously created in response to a reader's desires. I have learned not to question it. I merely accept the books as a gift--and bestow them as gifts to those in need.

To that end, I have honored your request for a mystery. Though I've no doubt there are many more ordinary books that could fulfill your desire (any seller of used books could tell you that this genre is far more extensive than most individual readers suspect), there is a book that appeared on our shelves last autumn that I feel will exactly fit your grandmother's tastes. The Wings of Hermes by Elizabeth Tern casts Oxford don Joseph Quill in the role of amateur sleuth, as he is pulled into the intrigue surrounding a piece of ancient Greek statuary. Quill is a very literary detective, in the vein of Gamadge or Wimsey, though his story has a touch of noir and more than a tinge of melancholy. I feel the book will be satisfying to a woman who has been a patron of our shop, and I hope it will fulfill its intended role of aiding in her recovery.

Yours faithfully,

Benjamin Wright

V. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Darling Benjamin,

Do you think I'm stupid? Or are you just insane? Do you expect me to swallow all that rigamarole about magic teleporting books? If it's a joke, you tell it with an alarmingly straight face, and frankly, it seems in poor taste (and poor business practice) to dump it all onto unsuspecting customers. If you don't want to explain how you got my book, fine--I'm sure it's a boring story involving mistaken donations or something--but I wish you wouldn't insult my intelligence by making up some whimsical fairy tale.

But for all that, I can't fault your taste in books. The Wings of Hermes was stupidly good. Grandma LOVED it. I stayed up until nine at night reading it with her--which is practically the middle of the night by her standards--because she was so desperate to know the culprit. It's a cut above most of the books on her shelf, and it's taken a place of pride there.

You weren't kidding about the melancholy. Grandma didn't mind--she was too wrapped up in the mystery--but I'll admit it got a bit depressing for my taste in places. The world seems dark enough right now--Grandma's hip isn't healing as well as we'd like. I'm having trouble adjusting to the move, and balancing work with Grandma's care is getting a touch overwhelming. I don't need fictional darkness on top of that.

What I need is something to lift my spirits. I've searched Grandma's shelves, and though she has plenty of comedies, there's nothing that catches my attention for more than a few pages, or elicits more than a wan smile. I don't know if there's a book in the world that could cheer me at the moment, but if any shop could supply it, I suppose yours can. Do you have anything like that? If you could, please send it my way.

At least, if you're willing to send it to a sponge. It seems you forgot to bill me for my last book, so if I have to settle the debt first, please let me know the price and I'll pay up. But please spare me the fairy tales.

Yours in respect,

Christine Hendry

VI. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Miss Hendry:

Your skepticism about the origins of our shop's unique books is understandable. Yet I told you the honest truth in response to an honest question. Any of our shop's past or present employees, and many of our long-term customers, would be able to verify the truth of my account. I do not typically disclose the story to new patrons, but your long history with Song of the Seafolk led me to believe you were already among those who would value it, and perhaps the faceless nature of letter-writing prompted more than usual candor. I apologize for your confusion, but I do not retract so much as a syllable of what I've said. I have told you only the truth as I know it. You may believe or doubt as you desire, but I would ask that you fling no further insults toward my honesty or my sanity.

In light of the struggles weighing upon you, the staff of Wright and Co. have forgiven any insulting insinuations, and are only too glad to do what we can to ease your burden. We have honored your request for a comedy, and have sent you a slightly worn copy of Mercator Must Walk the Plank by E.G. Delaford. It is worn because it has been read so many times by the members of our staff. It has often been stored behind the counter for staff to read in slow moments, and many of the quotes have become bywords with our little band. We sometimes read it aloud at the Christmas party. Yet by mutual consent, we have agreed that it is exactly the book you need (working here gives one a sense for these things--another Wright and Co. oddity), and gladly send it to you. If we have need of it after you've finished, we trust it will find its way back.

The book appears to have been written in (some version of) the early 20th-century, about a gentleman who takes to high-seas adventure despite his complete lack of sailing knowledge--a Don Quixote of the sea--and the woman he rescues from a shipwreck who tries in vain to set them on a sensible course. The humor is absurd, the characters memorable, and the story--I have forgotten myself. It's best for you to discover these things for yourself.

I have enclosed an invoice detailing the price of The Wings of Hermes. The price is modest compared to the extreme rarity of the book, and you may pay it if you wish to own the book outright. However, Wright and Co. also maintains a sort of library system for those who understand the unique nature of these one-of-a-kind books. For a nominal fee that covers the cost of shipping, patrons may keep one book at a time in their homes, and send it back to Wright and Co. when they wish to request another. If you wish to experience the widest variety of our unique selection--and keep these books in circulation for other readers--I recommend enrollment in this system.

I will not send an invoice for Mercator Must Walk the Plank, because we could not sell that book at any price. You may keep it for as long as it is of use to you, without interfering with your ability to borrow other books per our normal system. We consider this loan not a business arrangement, but an act of charity in your time of need.

Yours faithfully,

Benjamin Wright

VII. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine,

I hope you don't mind that I slipped a note inside Mercator before Ben sent it off. We've never let the book outside the shop before, so I just had to say hello, and welcome you to our little band of Mercator fans (because I know you're going to love it). Please don't worry about sending it back too quickly. I must have half the book memorized, and I can always recite the silliest bits if Heinrich gets too grouchy.

I am so glad you're going to get to read this book, but I have to say that I'm surprised Ben agreed to it, because I could tell some of the things you said your last letter made him upset. These books mean a lot to him, and he doesn't talk about them to just anyone, so I don't think he liked being called a liar.

Not that I blame you! I'd have trouble believing the story, too, if I hadn't seen it myself. But I have! Hundreds of times! We'll be stocking the shelves or dusting, and all of a sudden we'll see a new book there--you usually just know there's something different about it. It'll have all the stuff that a normal book does--cover and endpages and copyright stuff and publisher names, and sometimes even those order forms to buy other books from the publisher. But they're all about companies that don't exist. Or by people we can't even find on the internet. There are too many books in too many styles for them to be the work of some prankster--especially since it's been happening for years and years and years.

And sometimes the books come back to us. I can count at least a dozen times that I've sold a book to someone, and then a year or two later I'll come across the very same copy on our shelves again. It's weird, but after you've worked here long enough, you get used to it, and you forget how strange it all is to people who don't know.

So anyway, I know you're going through a lot with your grandmother (I'm so sorry! I hope she's getting better!), and I'm sure you must be a really lovely person if you loved Song of the Seafolk so much (I hope you don't mind that I read it before Ben sent it back. Delightful book!) which is why I don't mind at all sending Mercator to you, even if you think we're all crazy. But we're not, really. And I hope we can be friends.

Lots of love,

Penelope Brams

(You can call me Penny!)

VIII. Heinrich Gross to Christine Hendry

Madam,

You have the only existing copy of Mercator Must Walk the Plank. I must ask you to use caution when handling it. It is beloved by many in the shop. Please do not consume food or drink while reading it. Do not dog-ear any more pages. Please be gentle when turning the pages that are coming loose.

This book is a gift we do not give lightly. Do not abuse our kindness.

Respectfully,

Heinrich Gross

IX. Christine Hendry to the staff of Wright and Co.

Everyone,

I'm overwhelmed. I had no idea this book--or the story behind it--meant so much to all of you. I feel like I've been sent a priceless family heirloom--and you know me from only three letters! I don't know what I've done to deserve so much trust, but I will care for this book as though it were a priceless work of art (which, from the sound of it, it basically is).

In the name of honesty, I have to say that I don't believe the story of your shop. Frankly, it all sounds like nonsense. But as I'm reading Mercator (we're on Chapter Nine!), I'm beginning to see more than a little bit of Katherina in my objections. Maybe you're all mad, maybe you're mistaken, but I'm not sure it matters much. There are worse things in life than a little nonsense. Especially when you're all so very kind.

I hope all of you (especially Ben) can forgive me for the snide remarks in my last letter. Grandma and I thank you for all the books--wherever they came from--and would be honored to consider you friends.

Yours,

Christine Hendry

P.S. How do I get enrolled in that lending program? I've sent back The Wings of Hermes.

X. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine,

Have you finished the book yet? What do you think?

When you're done with Mercator, I have so so so many books I want you to read. I'm making a list. I know you probably don't have as much time to read as we do here, but I'd hate to think of you missing out on any of my favorites.

I don't want to rush you, but I've never talked to anyone outside of Wright's who had the faintest idea what I was talking about when we referenced Mercator. I've enjoyed having it as our inside joke, but it's even better to have more people in on it.

Write back soon!

Penny

XI. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams

Penny,

Grandma and I finished Mercator Must Walk the Plank last night--and started it again this morning. I can see why you all love it so much. What a wonderfully absurd book. Exactly the type of comedy I was looking for. Your instincts were correct: it was just what we both needed to cheer us up. It's removed enough from our world both in time and plausibility to take our minds away from ordinary things, and there's nothing mean-spirited about any of the humor. So many good characters among that crew. And the plot! High comedy! It's been almost a week since I read Chapter 14, and I'm still giggling over the fishing scene.

I would be overjoyed to read anything else you might recommend. If any of them are half as good as Mercator, they're sure to become my favorites, too.

Yours,

Christine Hendry

P.S. Grandma's hip is doing much better. Still a long road to recovery, but maybe the reread will help. Laughter being the best medicine and all.

XII. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Miss Hendry:

I've enclosed the forms for enrollment in Wright and Co.'s specialized lending program. If you will fill in the required information (though we obviously already have your address) and submit the proper payment, we will be able to begin sending books. The catalogue is yours to keep. I'm afraid the selection is rather outdated, and the summaries less than ideal at conveying the merits of each book. It was assembled by my predecessor, and I'm afraid that my uncle's genius for books did not translate to marketing skill. Amid the cares of business, I have not found the time to put together a modernized version, especially as I find that bespoke recommendations from our staff are far more likely to result in successful pairings of book and reader.

You will note there is a section on the third page where you can request a book. If I can offer a recommendation, I believe that the Alfred Quicke mystery series by Glorya M. Hayers, with its blend of comedy and mystery, would perfectly fit the tastes of your household. The mysteries solved by idle-rich amateur detective Alfred Quicke are always intriguing, but the cast of comedic types--and the farcical situations that arise in the course of the investigation--keep the stories lighthearted. The best way I can describe it is as if Wodehouse wrote a mystery series. The setting is much like that of his most famous stories, though with curious details that suggest it is set in an intriguing alternate world. With seventeen books in the series, you would find enough material to keep your grandmother in mysteries for a long time--though I suggest starting with the fourth book, The Counterfeit Candlestick, as the point where the series finds its voice.

I appreciate the handsome apology in your last letter and accept it wholeheartedly. However, I admit I had hoped for more than agnosticism toward our story. Despite your assertions, the truth does matter, whether we can discover it or not. Though the strange behavior of these books is outside our usual experience, it does not mean it is impossible (you will find a similar truth expressed by most of the great fictional detectives), and I had hoped your respect for us would open you to the possibility that there is more to this world than what we can understand. Perhaps it was too much to expect under the circumstances. But I hope we have garnered enough goodwill that you will not take offense at this expression of my honest opinion. If you do, I apologize, and will attempt to keep future letters focused purely on business.

Respectfully yours,

Benjamin Wright

XIII. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Mr. Wright,

I respect your opinion, though naturally I don't agree. I don't doubt you're sincere in believing what you do, but I can think of a dozen more mundane explanations of how these books mysteriously appear and disappear on your shelves (most of them involving poor record-keeping and less-than-stellar search engine skills). I suggest we drop the subject in the future, as neither of us is likely to convince the other, and my lack of belief about the mystical origin of these books doesn't keep me from fully enjoying the experience of reading them.

I hope you won't think it rude that I filled out your forms twice. Grandma and I do count as separate households, and if I'm going to keep Grandma in mysteries and experience some of the other books, I'm going to need two separate streams of supply. For now, though, I think books 3 and 4 of Alfred Quicke will suit our needs nicely.

Many thanks,

Christine Hendry

XIV. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine!!!

I'm so so glad you loved Mercator! I just knew you would, but it's always a little bit horrible when someone else reads one of your favorite books, because if they hate it, it crushes a piece of your heart, and I don't have that many pieces to spare.

But when they love it! Oh! I can love a book twice as much when I know someone else who loves it! I wouldn't think it was possible I could love Mercator more, but thinking of you and your Grandma laughing over it in her sickbed makes me so--this is going to sound strange, but I'm proud of it. As if we sent out a friend to do a good work, and he succeeded in working miracles. I hope you read it as many times as you want. Trust me, it gets better every time.

But I hope you'll find time to read some other books, too! I'm glad you got your own account along with your Grandma's. Alfred Quicke is lovely (I love his books almost as much as Mercator--please let me know what you think of Bright Folly when you read it), but one cannot live on mysteries alone. There are so many genres, so many moods, so many eras of literature to explore, and Wright's has wonderful examples of so many of them, so I'm so glad we'll get to send them to you.

I know Ben sent you that horrible little catalogue. Ignore it. It makes so many of the very best books sound so dull, and half my favorites aren't even in it. I can do a much better job of telling you what books to read. I've got pages and pages written up about the best ones, but I don't want to overwhelm you right away, so I'll just tell you about a few of the very best at a time. I've included a list of some of the ones I think you'll like best.

You can read what you like, of course, but I can't help thinking you should read The Autumn Queen's Promise by Rose Rennow just as soon as you possibly can. If you loved Song of the Seafolk, I'm sure you'll love this. It's another children's fantasy (a newer one--'90s, maybe?), with the same type of atmospheric historical setting, though this time, it's the most vivid autumnal woods you've ever read about in your life, which makes it perfect for this time of year.

The story's all about this fairy queen who stumbles into this little village in colonial America and can't get home. And she hates them all at first, of course--she's this horrible arrogant thing--but she comes to care for them and it's just lovely to read about. A little slow, but no slower than Seafolk. A nice, relaxing kind of slow. I'm sure you'll love it.

Whatever you pick next, I hope you'll keep me posted with reading updates. I so love talking with you about these books. It's so nice to have a pen pal!

Lots of love,

Penny

XV. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Miss Hendry:

Your account has been opened and the requested books have been shipped. We at Wright and Co. are pleased to count you as one of our trusted patrons.

I am afraid I will find it difficult to honor your request to drop the subject of the origin of our specialized books. Perhaps it is a fault, but I have never been able to bring myself to "agree to disagree". It has always seemed to me the coward's way out of engaging with the search for truth. However, you are correct that endlessly rehashing the subject is unlikely to assist either of us in continuing that search, so I will refrain from mentioning it unless there is further evidence to discuss. If you would be so kind as to patronize our shop in person, I would be happy to offer you further proof of the phenomena that I describe, but further discussion via these letters is likely to remain futile.

Faithfully yours,

Benjamin Wright

XVI. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Mr. Wright:

My offer to "agree to disagree" was a courtesy to you. I'm sure you don't want to lose a customer over the issue, so I was giving you the chance to let it slide so it wouldn't interfere with our working relationship. You think that makes me a coward? How can you say I'm "refusing to engage with the search for truth" when you've admitted that you don't know what the truth is? You said yourself (I still have those first letters) that you don't know where the books come from. Just because you can find no record of them doesn't mean they just appeared out of thin air. And these supposed "returns" of books could come from donations or poor record-keeping. You say you have evidence, but from my point-of-view, you could just be a quirky small press that prints old-fashioned books and tells whimsical stories to draw in customers. With all the stress surrounding Grandma's health, there's no way on Earth that I could make a cross-state trip to see your supposed "proof" for myself.

Frankly, if it weren't for Grandma, I'd consider canceling my accounts with you. But she's been tearing through Alfred Quicke so fast and enjoying it so much that I don't dare to cut off her source of supply. And the books you've sent are wonderful--you've been so kind about Mercator, and you gave me back Song of the Seafolk, and The Autumn Queen's Promise is turning into a lovely story I wouldn't have been able to find anywhere else.

I can't wrap my head around you people. Every time I give you the chance to back away from this weird story, you double down, and frankly, it's freaking me out. Penny's so bubbly that it's easy to see how she could get caught up in it, but you write with such a serious professional voice, and you seem (in your bland professional way) personally offended at my refusal to just go along with your story of mysterious magical books. Why does this matter so much to you? Why can't the books just be wonderful, obscure stories instead of mystical teleporting tomes that respond to feelings or whatever? I can't understand you.

Maybe you'll burn this letter and cancel my accounts, but if you dare to engage, I would like to know what you have to say for yourself.

Yours,

Christine Hendry

XVII. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine,

What did you say to Ben? He's usually so nice and sensible and kind and ordinary--really a great boss--but every once in a while, he broods. And he's been brooding ever since he got your last letter. It's like he's walking around with this big old cloud over his head. He keeps wandering the shelves and then going into his office and glaring at his computer and staring at the wall.

It's got me worried. Is your Grandma okay? I guess he'd tell me if she wasn't. Or you would. I hope.

Are you dying? Maybe that would explain why you haven't written in so long.

Please don't die on me. I couldn't bear it.

Write back soon.

Penny

XVIII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams

Dear Penny,

No one's dying. Grandma gets more mobile every day, and I'm in as good of health as you can have when you're running mostly on caffeine and a couple of hours of sleep a night. I've just been so busy between work and Grandma's care and insurance (so many stupid phone calls) and trying to figure out our finances, and trying to find senior housing for Grandma (her house has way too many stairs), that I barely have time to eat, much less write you back. I'm sorry if I worried you.

As for Ben, well, long story short, I majorly overreacted to some minor thing he said, and wrote a sleep-deprived response that I never should have sent. I really don't want to get into it with you, because you'd probably side with him, and I'd like to keep our friendship intact, at least.

I did manage to read The Autumn Queen's Promise a few pages at a time, and it was just as lovely as you promised it would be. Exquisite fall reading. I almost hate to send it back--that lovely cover alone, with its painting of that beautiful queen in that autumnal woods, added so much atmosphere to the house just by being here. It'll never replace Song of the Seafolk in my heart, but it came closer than almost any other book to recapturing what it felt like to experience it for the first time. I send it back with warm thanks for the recommendation.

I'm also sending back your beloved copy of Mercator Must Walk the Plank. I've held onto it far longer than I deserved to. You were so gracious to send it to me, and I can't take advantage of your kindness. (You can tell Heinrich that I haven't added a single scuff to the cover).

Since Ben seems to be in no mood for letters from me, can I send my book requests through you? Grandma would like Books 8 and 9 of Alfred Quicke (she can use my account for the second, because I don't have much time for reading at the moment.)

Thank you,

Christine

XIX. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Miss Hendry:

You say that you find us at Wright and Co. difficult to understand, but I find you equally baffling. In a single letter, you will thank us profusely for our friendship and the books we provide, while at the same time attacking that very thing which we hold most dear. In expressing my difficulty with the phrase "agree to disagree", I was not attacking your morals. You will note I was more than willing to honor your request to drop the subject. Yet in misconstruing my words, you have sounded the horn of war, and honor and duty--and, to be honest, personal inclination--demand that I engage.

You ask me why these books--and the phenomena surrounding their existence--matter so much to me. I can answer only by biography. Wright and Co. is a small, cluttered, dim, obscure shop--you could find a thousand used book stores like it anywhere in the world--but from a young age (the shop was owned by my uncle then) it seemed a place of unique enchantment. I would spend summer days racing among the stacks and losing myself in books. I grew more jaded and cynical as I aged--most teenagers do--but whenever I was in danger of becoming a disaffected youth, there was something about the shop that made me feel there was something more than the meaninglessness of everyday life.

Learning about the miracle of the books felt like getting the answer to a question I hadn't realized I was asking. Here was proof there was something beyond the mundane and predictable. Something too wonderful for the human mind to understand. Some wondrous power cared enough about the patrons of this shop to help them get the right story in their hands at the right time--even if that story had never been written. Other books have authors and publishers, but these books seemed like a gift from the author of imagination itself.

When I took over the shop, I became a steward of that gift. Caring for these books and matching them with readers makes the running of this shop, not just a banal business arrangement, but a calling. Stories have the power to shape our imagination, our outlook, our relationships with others--and these stories, coming as they do unwritten, unbought and unlooked for, seem to have more power than most. Caring for that power is a great responsibility, one that I take very seriously. I have seen its good effect again and again. You cannot deny you have experienced it yourself.

You are correct when you say that I do not know the exact origin of these books. But I am not intellectually lazy just because I am content with no answer. Making peace with mystery--knowing that some things are ever unknowable--is not the same as refusing to believe the truth that comes before your eyes.

You have closed yourself to even the possibility of an explanation that goes beyond the reality you can comprehend. I have spoken of evidence that proves there is no rational explanation for these books, and you call me an unreliable witness. You have seen hints of the wondrous that you dismissed out of hand. I understand that you do not have the same evidence that I have, and I have not been as gracious as I should have been in making allowance for that. But saying that my refusal to seek an exact explanation makes me intellectually lazy is inaccurate in the extreme.

I may not know how these books come into my shop, but I know from whom. I may not know the exact mechanisms of the miracle, but I firmly believe there is an author of all that has allowed my shop to be a source of minor--and yes, rather whimsical--wonders. I need not know more than that to do my duty well.

Perhaps that explanation will help you to understand my position. More likely you will think me crazier than ever. But since I have explained my inner self, perhaps I have some right to ask for an explanation in return.

Ever since your response to that first letter, when I hinted at the miracle surrounding these books, I detected not only disbelief from you, but disdain. I was troubled to see such disgust toward the concept, especially from one who has proven herself an enthusiastic fan of fantasy. Why do you seek wonders in your stories, but resist it so fiercely in your own existence? Would it be so terrible for these books to have a supernatural origin? Is there not some appeal in letting the wondrous into your life?

You need not respond to such prying questions if it makes you uncomfortable. But I ask that at least, if you do respond, that you deal gently with one who has made his inner self so vulnerable to your scrutiny.

Yours faithfully,

Benjamin Wright

XX. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Ben,

Wow.

When I asked for an explanation, I didn't expect that.

I don't know how I can possibly respond.

I definitely understand why it matters so much to you, but somehow, this conversation has shifted from magic to theology, and I'm even less equipped to engage in a conversation about that. Not to get into too much detail, but that's part of the reason I haven't seen my grandmother in so many years. Grandma's comfortable with that stuff. I prefer my fantasy to remain safely in stories.

If what you say is true, if there's some grand wonderful power--call it magic, call it God--that does things we can't understand, then we're completely powerless against it. Which is fine if the power is good, but if the good things are real, then the bad things can be, too. There are too many ordinary problems for me to want to live in a world where there's some grand plan I can mess up by doing the wrong thing, and greater powers are waging in a war for my soul.

Fantasy is great. I love stories of mermaids and magic and the wonders of life. But it's not reality. I learned that young, and every year I live only proves it more. I'm content to live in the ordinary world with its ordinary problems, and get my escape through literature--where none of the monsters on the page can hurt me.

I'm glad--I really, truly am--that you've been able to make yourself believe in some grander purpose behind these silly little stories we've been reading. But I can't believe in that. I've seen no proof to make me believe it. Maybe you have, but most people can barely trust their own eyes, so how can I trust yours? It's not that I think you're crazy or stupid. Your personality and experiences make you want to believe. Mine make me happy to doubt. It's nobody's fault, and neither of us can change it, and it's fine. I'll stop calling you a crackpot if you stop calling me a coward, and we'll leave it at that.

Wherever the books come from, we all agree that they're wonderful, and if you don't mind dealing with a dirty nonbeliever, I'd be honored if you'd let me continue doing business with you.

Yours,

Christine Hendry

XXI. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine,

Where is Mercator? We got your letter, and The Autumn Queen's Promise, and your most recent Alfred Quicke, but no sign is there of Mercator Must Walk the Plank.

Oh! Oh no! What if it got lost in the mail? Could we survive such a tragedy? Silly old John Quackenbush and fiery Katherina, and grumpy little Pegs and that whole lovable crew--gone forever! If the U.S. Postal Service is responsible for their destruction, I'll...we'll...we'll make them pay! This is a murder and there must be justice!

Don't worry, I don't blame you. But the next mailman to cross my path better watch out. We'll find that book if we have to tear through every mail box and bag and truck in the country!

I'll keep you posted about the search if I can find the time to write.

Frantically,

Penny

XXII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams

Dear Penny,

I'm so extremely sorry. When I sent you that last letter, I truly thought I had packaged and mailed Mercator Must Walk the Plank, but after receiving your reply, I discovered that the book was still on its usual shelf in my grandmother's house. I've been so sleep-deprived lately that I overlook things, but I didn't think I could possibly have overlooked something that.

Don't worry. I'll be sending it out as soon as I get another box to ship it in. And this time, I'll make 100% sure it's inside before I ship it.

Please forgive me.

Christine

XXIII. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Dear Christine,

You've asked me not to call you a coward, but your wording leaves me almost no choice. Denying yourself the good and wondrous out of fear of evil and danger is the definition of cowardice. Staying within the narrow world of rationality makes for a bleak and colorless life--and you're none the safer for your denial. Good and evil exist whether you acknowledge them or not. Closing your eyes to them only makes you vulnerable to ambush should they come upon you unaware.

Can you not open yourself to the possibility that the good can overcome the evil? That it can offer strength to face the dangers? Great stories can do that by showing us how to act in such situations, to give us examples of victory over darkness, to open our minds to possibilities that we might not accept in our ordinary lives. You've experienced such stories. Is it so strange to think they might reflect the reality we live in? Is it so strange to think there might be some greater power offering us those stories to sustain us?

To you, I'm sure it seems impossible. But you know there are those who think otherwise. I only ask you to consider the implications of the choice.

Respectfully yours,

Ben

XXIV. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Ben,

I don't think you can call my position a choice. You're acting like I'm picking between favorite foods or something--picking one position because I don't like the other one. But as far as I can tell, my position is the only choice. I have no reason to believe any other option exists.

It would be wonderful if I could believe the way you do. It seems to have brought you a lot of peace. But I'm not built that way and I'll just have to struggle along. Your concern is touching, but I've been doing just fine so far.

If I ever see proof, I'd have reason to reconsider, but as it is, I have enough trouble in the world I can see to worry too much about one that I can't.

Respectfully,

Christine

XXV. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine,

Still no sign of Mercator. Did you forget to send it again, or do I have to lay siege to the post office?

Penny

P.S. Have you been reading any more of the books?

XXVI. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams

Penny,

I have tried to send off that package no fewer than three times, and every time the book somehow makes its way back to my shelf. Maybe I'm just so used to seeing it there that I keep putting it back. I am so sorry for the delay.

It makes me feel guilty that I'm still profiting by reading your other books. Now that winter is upon us, Grandma and I have started reading aloud from the longest of your fantasy suggestions--The Queens of Wintermoon. You're right that it's an odd book--Russian-flavored science fantasy, with all those complicated family ties and political intrigues--but it's just what we need right now. Grandma is unfortunately dealing with a bout of pneumonia at the moment, which means I'm spending a lot of time at the hospital, but a big, thick, lush and lyrical literary book with a huge cast of vividly-drawn characters is just what we need to take us away from the sterile white walls and the scent of disinfectant.

It's great to sink into that snowy world with its royal glamour and underground orchards and mystical machines. Grandma and I spend ages talking about the four sisters and their royal husbands--all their flaws and heartaches and complicated relationships. I'm most attached to Vitalia and her political intrigue plot, while Grandma most loves the storyline of Inessa and her mysterious woodcutter husband. I have my suspicions about both their secrets, but I'm more than willing to wait the 800-or-so pages they'll need to resolve everything. It's nice to have something to take my mind off of other worries.

But I will keep worrying about Mercator. I promise somehow or another, it will make its way back to you.

Yours,

Christine

XXVII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams

Penny,

I don't understand it. This is the fifth time I've tried to send Mercator Must Walk the Plank back to you. This time I waited until I'd had a decent night of sleep so my mind was clear. I put it in the packaging (extra padding). I took a picture of it inside the box. I took a picture of the sealed and addressed box. I took a picture of the box when I took it to the post office and left it at the counter. And then I returned home to find the book sitting on the same shelf where I'd put it this morning.

Are the darn things breeding? Did you send me extra copies? There is no other explanation for what happened.

It's got my head spinning, and until I've got it figured out, unfortunately Mercator is going to stay right where it is.

Sorry!

Christine

XXVIII. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Christine,

Penny has made me aware of your difficulties with Mercator Must Walk the Plank. It's clear to me (as I'm sure it will be to you) what has happened. If you wished for proof, you now have it. The Powers-That-Be have determined that you have more need of the book than we do.

Please don't distress yourself by (or waste postage upon) any further attempts to send the book back. We have plenty of other books to read, and if we ever have need of Mercator, I trust that the same powers will ensure it makes its way back to us.

Yours,

Ben

XXIX. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Ben,

It's the middle of the night and I can't sleep. I'm trying not to think of that book and I can't. It just doesn't make sense.

This can't be happening. But it is. And if this part of your story is true, then that means the other part of the story is true, which means your theories

This doesn't mean you've won. I'm sure there's some rational explanation that I've overlooked. I shouldn't even write to you because you'll just try to convince me that this is proof we live in a world of angels and fairies who bother themselves about the books we read. But it's not like there's anyone else I can talk to about this.

If you have nothing to say but, "I told you so," don't bother writing back at all. But if you've anything useful to say I'm all ears (or eyes, I guess--weird that I've never actually spoken to you. I don't even know what you look like. How old are you?)

I should sleep. But I'm going to go off and mail this letter like a moron because it's the closest I can come to a conversation.

Good night.

Christine

XXX. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Christine,

This is me not saying I told you so.

That doesn't leave me much else to say.

I'm 39.

Picture the word "man" in the dictionary. Imagine there's an illustration there. That's pretty close to what I look like.

If you want to hear my voice, you'll have to come to the shop and talk to me in person. Or I suppose we could call each other. We do live in the 21st century. But I admit I've enjoyed this 19th-century correspondence we've been keeping up.

I wish I had something more useful to say, but I doubt I can say any of it in a way you want to hear.

I hope you've been sleeping better.

Ben

XXXI. Penelope Brams to Christine Hendry

Christine

CHRISTINE!!

I know you didn't order another book, but I was wandering through the shelves the other day when this book just about jumped out at me. It's like it had your name written in it. Like how your grandmother wrote in Song of the Seafolk.

Your name's not in it. I checked. But something about it still made it seem like yours. Like we were keeping it from you. Ben agreed (he's got a good sense for these things), so I started preparing the box to ship it. But I read a bit of the first chapter before I packaged the book, just to get an idea of what I was sending you. I didn't move from that spot until I'd read the whole thing. Ben just about locked me in the shop before he found me sitting in a daze in the back room.

Christine, you have to read this book. Now. It's the most beautiful...well, not fantasy. But it's not not fantasy. It's so real and yet so magical and you could maybe read it both ways. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I finished it.

But what's the book? If you've opened the package by now, I'm sure you know it's called Cardinal's Map by someone named Dorothy Cannes. It's from the eighties, it looks like, but it feels older. And newer. Does that make it timeless? I suppose all of the books in our "special" selection feel that way. Anyway, it's about this girl named Miranda, and she's this terrible grouch, and she goes to work for this old guy named Cardinal (that's where the title comes from) who needs help writing his book. And he's got the most beautiful map of all the countries in world of his fantasy book. Except the countries might be real? And just....ack, I don't have words! The book has a lot of them. Read those instead.

And then write to me because I need to know what you think about the ending!!

Lots of love,

Penny

XXXII. Christine Hendry to Penelope Brams

Penny,

You were right.

Thank you.

Christine

XXXIII. Christine Hendry to Benjamin Wright

Ben,

It's been three hours since I finished Cardinal's Map, and I haven't moved from my chair. Everything you said about the power of story is true. It's like this book reached into my soul and rearranged the furniture. Cleared out the clutter. And it did it by sweeping me along with the characters and the story and the beautiful prose so I didn't even know what was happening until it was already done.

Everything we've been fighting about for the last few weeks was in this book. It talked about all the things you were trying to tell me, but instead of just telling me, it showed me and made me think and feel and helped me make sense of it all. And I never felt like it was preaching. I'm not even sure it was trying to preach. It's just...a story, so I let my guard down and it got under my skin. Just like Cardinal's map got to Miranda.

I don't know if you've read the book or not, but the premise is that John Cardinal is writing this extensive fantasy work and Miranda's this jaded college kid hired as a secretary to help him arrange all his notes. And she's fascinated by the fictional map and gets swept up in the book, until she realizes that Cardinal is telling the story of his life. That this character who traveled to this other fantasy world is supposed to be him. And she's got to figure out if he's using this as a metaphor, or if he's crazy, or if this other world really is a real place.

And by the end of the book, we don't know. You could read it both ways--the world in the map is either a metaphor or a real country that he’s been to. But it doesn't really matter which one is true, because the bigger truth is that Miranda knows there's something beyond the rational world that we can see. And it's not terrifying. It's wonderful. It's not this place full of monsters waiting to pounce--it's this exciting, dangerous, beautiful place to explore.

If Penny wants to know what I think of the ending, I believe that Cardinal's world is real. And I believe your story is true. I've seen evidence. That terrified me, because that means the world no longer makes sense. But the truth doesn't have to be a terrifying destruction of the reality I know; it can be an expansion of it. I don't understand why any of this happens, or how, but maybe I don't have to know how. I just need to be thankful that it did.

You said that Mercator stayed with me because I needed it more than you guys did. Maybe what I needed was evidence of the miracles you told me about. Then I wondered why Song of the Seafolk wandered away, because I very much needed it here when it was at your shop. But maybe what I needed was to write to you. The correspondence we've shared, the books you've sent me, they've strengthened me through a lot of difficult weeks. They've given me and Grandma a lot of joy, brought us back together after so many year's apart. And they've helped me straighten out a lot of questions I didn't know I was wrestling with.

There was someone's hand in all this--an author arranging all the pieces of the story in a way I'd never have been able to achieve on my own. Maybe before that'd make me feel helpless, but now, I don’t know, I guess I feel cared for. Like someone’s watching out for me.

I feel like I should thank you, and I don't know how. This is too deep for words. Thank you for writing, even when I was horrible to you. Thank you for the books. Thanks for being a part of my story.

Grandma's doing better now. If she's up for it, I think it's time for a road trip.

If you're ever going to see Mercator or Cardinal's Map again, I might have to hand them to you in person.

Love to all of you,

Christine Hendry

XXXIV. Benjamin Wright to Christine Hendry

Christine,

You may not believe me, but I did not read Cardinal's Map before sending it to you. I simply had the notion that it would be the ideal book for your circumstances--and I was as surprised as you were to find just how true that was. Another gift, I suppose.

I look forward to reading it, if you can ever spare it (I look upon the book as belonging to you now). I also greatly anticipate the opportunity to see and speak to you here in the shop. I hope you will not wait long to make good on your promise.

Yours faithfully,

Ben

XXXV. Christine Hendry to the staff at Wright and Co.

Everyone,

I can't say how wonderful it was to see you all in person. You all looked just like I pictured you. Your shop is too wonderful for words. I could have moved in. But alas, Grandma and I don't have the resources for a move right now.

We'll have to continue the friendship long-distance. Now that I have the shop's phone number (funny I never thought to request it before), and your personal numbers, I suppose we can call whenever we like. But if you don't mind, I'm going to keep corresponding by letter, too.

Love to you all,

Christine

[atheliasnotebook]

The Taste of You

ft. Aether (vocalist/dancer), Cyno (the opening act), Childe (snack stand vendor), Diluc (the drink stand vendor), Gorou (the security guard) + Shikanoin Heizou (drummer/dancer), Kaedehara Kazuha (guitarist 1/dancer)

NOTE: the reader is gender-neutral, and is referred to as "_______" rather than (Y/N)!

TAG(S): fluff, confession, angsty (childe/ajax, diluc)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: self-indulgent ikemen fanservice owo

It's a 6REEZE concert! But... what's it like to kiss one of the boys for the first time (or even one of the venue workers)?

💫 Aether [ Vocalist / Dancer ]

"A stranger, at a table in a place / and a really pretty face / I wonder what happens when you smile" (Someone You Like by The Girl and The Dreamcatcher)

You, the manager of 6REEZE, have gotten yourself into quite a predicament. You were simply sitting in the break room with Aether, sharing a snack with him before pre-show rehearsal began. Sitting in those metal foldable chairs with the beige-colored folding table propped up. The rule at this venue was that "eating is strictly prohibited in the dressing rooms," and their break room would double as storage. Surrounded by boxes, you offered one of your crackers out to the blonde-braided idol before stumbling over his lap, propping yourself up by gripping the edges of the latter's chair as you dropped the saltine atop his thigh. Apologizing, still looking down at his black trousers, you turn your gaze up—stumbling once again... and accidentally onto Aether's lips.

It's so... soft? And warm... without even knowing it, you had complacently melted in the motion. Aether let out a yelp, but stayed like that for a couple of seconds, unsure of what he should do. Pull away?

Aether widened his eyes, trembling as he hummed out of embarrassment. Squeaking his metal chair back, he shot his hand up to cover his lips, muttering apologies over and over, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

He always liked your smile. And because he always liked it so much, he couldn't help but always be attracted. Kissing you like this? He sure as hell didn't hate it, but he felt bad for making you go through something so embarrassing. Unbeknownst to him, he was your favorite. You made sure it didn't show, but secretly, you did so many little things that not he would've noticed.

"Aether, I'm so sorry for—"

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong! If anything... I should be the one saying sorry. I didn't bother pulling away, and I know you don't like me—"

"Well, who said I never liked you?"

That made Aether blush more than online thirst tweets about him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

🐳 Childe / Ajax [ Snack Stand Seller #1 ]

"Will you meet me in the daylight / like we did before / Then I felt you on my shoulder / and you weren't suffering anymore" (Everything Goes On by Porter Robinson)

Cute little _______ has been dancing in his thoughts for the past few weeks! Sure, the first time he met you—you were simply trying to buy a bag of pretzels for Aether, and what do you know—he threw in some jerky and an iced water bottle for you. You gave a Jack Link's black-and-red labeled dried delicacy to Heizou, who chowed down with a broad smile and gratitude.

You tossed the pretzel bag to Aether, ready to drink from the water bottle when you saw a series of numbers written at the top of the bottle in dark, navy blue sharpie. "Call me!" it said beneath it, with a little heart.

☆ IF YOU CHOSE TO CALL HIM sometime after you read the bottle (or even after the show), he would greet you with that enthusiastic childlike eagerness.

"Good evening, comrade! I trust that the show was astounding? Well, I certainly thought so! The song lineup is what I would refer to as astounding!"

"The talent's in the boys, not me. I'm just the one who books their gigs and drives them around when they're drunk," you joke, and manage to stir up a charming laugh out of the magnanimous snack seller.

Although you two chatted it up almost every-to-every other day, you kept your distance. Because you sure as hell know better than to get close to a boy who flirts with girls as much as he offers you free snacks. He treats you like everyone else. You're not extraordinary.

Why would you be memorable?

You could only wonder.

You could only wallow.

After all, you're only the manager. Nobody actually knows your name. Your face. Nobody actually remembers. You cover up your face on live stream, because of all those stupid comments harassing you online. even the threats from the boys to strangle anyone who decides to talk crap about their manager don't help...

"The manager's probably some sick fat bastard pulling the strings."

"Maybe their 'manager' is just the permanent groupie for '6REEZE.'"

So, naturally, you just stopped texting him. You were always the one striking up conversation first. He didn't bother texting you first. Perhaps he was busy. Or perhaps he was just playing around with some girl.

✦ IF YOU CHOSE TO IGNORE THE NUMBER and simply drink your water, you'd toss it away and continue your work, booking the next tour (even though 6REEZE just rebranded from 5WIRL).

...

On another day during an intermission, you'd be drinking another iced water that you received from Childe. Kazuha would strike up a conversation with you as he watched you toss the bottle away with such an irked expression.

"______, if I may be so polite to inquire, is there a reason why you tossed away that bottle while harboring such a disdainful look on your face?"

"Some... guy is just trying to hit on me when I don't have the time for a relationship. Besides, I'm much too busy dealing with your guys' fangirls than to worry over if a man is attracted to me," you explain, sighing agitatedly as you slump in your chair.

"Manager, am I permitted to grant you a few words of advice?"

You nod your head... slowly. Kazuha normally keeps to himself, but he grins with a sense of knowing as he takes a sip at his white paper cup of hot tea.

"You work yourself to the bone just as much as we do to ensure that our shows are lined up, that our music and song are refined like polished diamonds, and that every staff and member we talk and associate with is approachable and friendly. You have every right to be happy. Everyone is. 'Breeze,' 'Anemo, 'Swirl,' whatever you wish to refer to it as—should not be the reason to hinder yourself from your enjoyable prospects. Please—" Kazuha elucidates beseechingly, scooting forward as he places a hand on your back. "—go chase after him, boss. You have told us that we are as free as the breeze, and can run anywhere that the wind will carry us. You too, are a part of 'breeze,' ______."

...

"Childe, are you busy?" you ask, with Ajax hearing your voice crackle over the phone.

"Not at all, comrade! My time is all yours~"

"Good, because I'm on the stairs by the hill. Let me know when you're availabl—"

"I'm coming over right now!" he exclaims, almost like an excited puppy. And then, very quietly, far away from the microphone. "Ah, Mister Zhongli, I'll be back in just a few minutes!" you hear, before the sound of a metal door slamming open and shut in just a few seconds, dragging your gaze to the ginger hopping on top of the stone brick planter walls and dashing towards you at an alarming speed with open arms.

You were expecting this. Returning his call means reciprocating his feelings. And knowing his feelings, they were stronger than every screaming fan of 6REEZE during their encore. But, just like Kazuha said, you are just as free as the breeze. So, with the strength of the wind, you dash just as fast toward him. And slowing down at the last second, you throw yourself into his embrace, burying one another's heads in each other's necks.

"I was waiting for when you'd finally call me back," he teased, giggling as he caressed the side of your face.

"Yeah," you muttered. "It took some convincing, but work shouldn't be getting in the way of my happiness. I'm here now."

"Do I have your permission to kiss you, comra—I mean... *ahem*... err..."

"Call me anything you want. And yes, you can kiss me."

It will be the mark of your new life. Your new, and happy life.

Childe leans forward, tucking three fingers behind your ear as he creases his eyes, seeking your approval with his receding ocean gaze. Thank you, you can only think as you press yourself against him, intertwining your lips like the seafoam that prances atop the lapping waves at the edges of the beach.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

⚡️ Cyno [ The Opening Act ]

"Makes me want to turn around and face me / But I don’t know nothing about love, oh” (Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows)

Comedy.

At, least, that’s what he calls it. Tighnari warned him not to—for his act would flop harder than no-name indie bands trying to make a name for themselves out there. however, little did the entire venue and 6REEZE know what was comin’.

Cyno has been practicing piano. Not for very long, but with the title of “General Mahamatra,” he needs to incorporate some of his comedic charms into his routine. Although not incredibly complicated, his keyboard-playing was astoundingly well-timed with the delivery of his witty observations (almost like a second Bo Burnham)! When you sat through it, yes, it was stupid—but it got you laughing until your stomach was aching.

While you were busy taking care of your bursting laughter, Cyno’s eyes were glued to you—enthralled by the charm of such an innocent person: the manager of 6REEZE.

Oh, he thought. How lucky they are to have such a charismatic individual at their side at all times.

Naturally, because of the nature of his sociability—many think of him as hard-to-approach, and thus, respond by cutting straight to the chase (leaving no room for small talk or opening a window to try and be friendlier with one another). However, he thought about… you. You introduced yourself with such a wide smile and a friendly handshake, that (even he, who is stoic so naturally) was caught off guard by the way he let a small grin slip. Even Tighnari, his best friend (who doesn’t recommend Cyno’s acts for multiple reasons) was surprised at the way he reacted gently to you.

“Thanks for listening,” he says, smiling directly at you—the only one sitting in the third row for his rehearsal apart from the staff. He jumps down a few feet off the apron of the stage, walking up the steps toward you with an unwavering gaze. “You really thought it was that funny?”

“It was hilarious,” you remark, chuckling at the jokes he made about college authorities.

Cyno can't help but pat your head, and take hold of your palm and press a kiss to the back of it.

“Perhaps… you would be interested in going out sometime?” he asks, trying to take a page from other popular idols that he’s observed.

Tighnari is fuming at the indecency of Cyno as he watches you laugh and go along with him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

🔥 Diluc Ragnvindr [ The Drink Vendor ]

“Decoding these emotions / you’re the ocean I wanna dive into tonight” (Diamond City Lights by Lazulight (NIJISANJI EN))

You’ve seen Diluc around a few times. He always ends up booking angel’s share for the beverage vending at large events, and oh. Man. does he look attractive. High ponytail and nice black apron with the minimalist company logo that’s embroidered just above the bust area. The way he cleans is elegant, eyebrows furrowed in a focused kind of way.

People admire a man who is good with people. Diluc, although witty and snide to some who approach his bar (aka: Venti, who hits up the beverage vending to grab a bottle… or two… or three before the show ends, or kaeya who’s already had three full glasses of wine), and kind to older folks who drop by to send the Ragnvindr family their best wishes. tall, perfectly chiseled face—and you stare at his burning amber eyes before dragging your gaze to the shaker in his hands—zoning out into space.

“Hello? Earth to ______?”

You snap out of it. “How do you know my name?—“

"I believe you are the manager of… ‘Breeze,’ right? Naturally, one should be familiar with the names of the staff and performers for efficient communication.”

You nod. “Of course, Mister Diluc.”

“Just Diluc is fine. Referring to me as ‘mister’ sounds like too much of a formality. Besides, we have seen each too much to uphold formalities, wouldn’t you say?”

Perhaps. He’s older than you by maybe a few years, so just calling him by his first name alone doesn’t feel quite right off your tongue.

“Right, err—Diluc. How much do I owe you for the drink?”

“On the house. Think of it as a thank you,” he says, untying his apron as he throws it onto the hook, coming out to the stand front and handing the mixed cocktail to you himself. But you have the money to spare, so you surely have to support your fellow business owners. And more importantly, as a thank you for… what?

“No, no—I insist. how can I repay you?”

Diluc sighs. "Well, if you really want to, i suppose you can tell me what you think of me,” he explains, looking at you with crossed arms.

“What I think of you…?”

Well, he’s nice. But he has too many fangirls to bother trying to score a date with him. If you did end up with him—the benefit would be releasing an alcohol lineup “themed” to each of the members of 6REEZE. but putting aside his business prospects, he’s the ideal man. Tall, dashing, handsome—good with people, all while having martial arts experience that rivals some of the top security in the venue.

“Talented, and charming.”

“Then…” Diluc begins, his neutral expression slowly fading into a grin. “What would say if I thought the same about you?”

Ecstatic. You could die right then and there content and happy. But, in that same split second—you reconsidered such a statement with the prospects of 6REEZE circulating your thoughts.

“Happy, but—“

“But what?” he asks, holding out his hand to you. Confused, you place your palm into his warm grasp—swiftly being hoisted forwards by the waist, hugging your hips with the bartender’s. Flustered, you look up—unable to move out from the embrace.

“The rumors.”

“Why care about rumors? If we like one another, we should give it a shot—no? Apart from that, it will be good publicity for both of us.”

Ah, right. Business.

Because Diluc’s always has his mind first on business before anything else.

“If you keep looking so sad, I might have to lose a bit of control to try and make you happy.”

Just ignore him. “Losing control.” How silly. Just put on a happy face and polite smile, like you usually do, and…

Diluc wraps his lips in between the crevices of yours, enveloping the both of you in a profound warmth. You feel his heart beat just as fast as yours against your chest, shuddering at the touch.

Diluc tenderly pulls away, creasing his brows with a low exhale. "My apologies. I should have requested your permission before providing such a gesture in public..." he remarks, scratching the back of his neck as he has a hand around your waist.

From the stage, Venti gasps, about to jump off the platform to have at Diluc, before Xiao covers his mouth and wrangles him back.

With a carefree smile and without noticing the boys, you wrap your arms around the brewer’s shoulders, sinking into the reassuring comfort of one another.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

🏹 Gorou [ The Security Guard ]

“When blossoms are blooming / I would think of you” (100 Years by Or3o)

"______, we open the gates in 20 minutes! Get over here!"

Working double as a security guard and manager is great. Your identity as the manager is already pretty overshadowed by the boys' fame, despite how much they praise and talk about you. Heizou would say (at some point) during the bi-weekly livestreams:

"Ah, but you see—we can never do it without the help of our beloved manager!"

Even in autumn, the leaves still fall and dance through the wind in myriads of mandarin orange and auburn reds, which spiral down to decorate the pavement. You spot the planter boxes adorned with multicolored blooming chrysanthemums. Catching a glance of that latte-shaded cut of your co-worker, you jog over without breaking a sweat, catching yourself smiling at the latter's enthusiasm.

"Where are Shibata and Hiroyuki? Are they at the check-in and pat-down area?"

"Sure are! Have you seen Daisuke anywhere?"

"I think he went to go grab a snack from backstage! Do you want me to radio him to bring you a drink as well?"

"No, it's quite fine—"

"Well, alright then! If you're feeling parched, you can share water with me, just let me know!"

Did you hear that right? The head guard... Gorou... will share his water with you? But isn't that considered an indirect kiss? Why does he not care for such semantics?

"Uh, _______, why are you turning red all of a sudden? Did I say something that embarrassed you?"

"What, hahahaha! N-no..."

"Are you embarrassed by saying that we could share water?"

You blush more, and Gorou chuckles, before bursting out into laughter. Guess nothing gets past the general. You believe he may not remember you from your younger days at the Inazuma secondary academy, but you recall watching and admiring him from afar. Watching him hang out with Kazuha, and Kokomi, and spending time talking to the academy's teachers.

"M-maybe..."

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to bring it up. It's just—well, I remember watching your gaze from the edge of my classroom door when you were waiting for Ayaka and Thoma. Kazuha pointed it out to me once," he rambles, chuckling and smiling. "After all, how could I forget those elegant eyes staring at me the whole ti—"

After just a few moments of silence, Gorou clasps his hands over his mouth, wide-eyed in shock at what he just confessed. You too, blushing, clenched your palms to cover your face in surprise. You were so careful to make sure nobody would see you! Maybe... someone ratted you out? Or maybe Thoma and Ayaka were too obvious about your crush on him?

... hold on, elegant?

"Do you like me?"

"Ah, guess I gave it away..."

Both of you stand there awkwardly, trying to say something at the same time, but then say "no, you go first," before slipping into unified chuckles. Gorou scratches the back of his neck while watching you fiddle with your fingers behind your back.

"Guess we should talk about this later... huh?" you say, checking your watch. 5 minutes before the gates open, 3 minutes before the admission office starts taking tickets.

Gorou smiles, taking a step closer to you as he kisses you on the forehead. "Sure. If you come into any trouble, let me know."

The both of you depart hastily from one another. Maybe distance hasn't ripped you both apart as much as you thought it did...

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

🔎 Shikanoin Heizou [ Drummer / Dancer ]

"High on words / We almost used / We're fireworks with a wet fuse" (Find You by Zedd, Matthew Koma, and Miriam Bryant)

You walk into the practice room, listening to the sound of drums banging and thumping. The kicks, the toms, and the cymbals crash in an ideal symphonic rhythm that almost sounds polyrhythmic in nature. You watch how his sweat trickles down the side of his neck, the entire scene playing out like a cinematic movie. In your head, you can hear Kazuha and Scara rocking out together, the music auto-completing itself.

Heizou watches how you keep time, tapping your foot to complete the metronome. Mister "detective" admires your mastery in remembering the timing of every song in their lineup, smiling as he plays along to your tune. He watches your grin curl and admires how cute it is. He doesn't even realize how much he's blushing and giggling to himself.

"Is something funny, Heizou?"

"Oh?" he said, caught by surprise. "Yes, just thought of a funny meme that Venti sent me before I started practicing," he lied, providing false guidance that was sure that you'd believe.

You giggle. You didn't know Heizou indulged in memes so much. And when he hears your laugh, mister "No. 1 detective" blushes red to his ears, making sure to hide his flushed complexion in his hand covering half his face.

"I brought you some water, you've been practicing so hard, even right before the show starts."

"Ahh... yes, I do it not only to reinforce the routine but to get things off my mind."

"Something's on your mind then?"

"Yep, just this person that I can only admire from afar."

"Ooh...~ is it some lucky fan, Heizou?"

"Perhaps... in a way, they are my biggest fan. I would even argue that they are not only my fan, but also a teacher, and a friend."

"Well, are they coming to this show?"

"Yes," he answers curtly, always looking you straight in the eyes, definite of his response. "They always come up to our shows..."

"Well, I just have to say—you are free to do as you please, but as an idol, Heizou, please be careful. Firstly, you are a person, but second, you are a star. It is essential to stay wary—"

Heizou sighs, chuckling as he stands from his drummer's seat, hanging his drumsticks in the loop belts of his pants. "Of course, you know how careful I am, boss." You furrow your eyebrows. Venti has the tendency to flirt with people quite openly, and it's gotten him into trouble a couple more times than you'd wish. You trust Heizou, but you have to give the same spiel.

"Heizou, you better pro—"

"Promise you that I should stay wary?" he asks rhetorically, leaning against the wall, raising his hand to beckon you forth.

And when you turn to look at him, he pats the empty space on the wall next to him. Confused, you approach, relaxing against the wall with a foot against the plain beige paper. And not even a couple seconds after, he kabedons you, leaving barely any space between Heizou's arm and the side of your face. The space feels suffocating as you're staring into his verdant green eyes.

"Manager, what if I think that you should be the one who's vigilant more than me?"

No response. What do you even say about that? Heizou almost feels like he's watching you like a hawk... or maybe he has been? But something about the way his eyebrows droop, and suddenly leans his head on your shoulder makes it feel like something's off about heizou.

"Are you okay, Heizou? Shouldn't you save this intimacy for who you admire—"

His chuckle cuts you off. "What if the person I admire is you?"

... what? You?

From the moment he landed the audition for the group through Kazuha's extended invitation, you've always watched how he dedicates himself to his craft. Although all the boys work hard in their own ways, he fixates himself as though he's trying to solve a puzzle. Such a hyper-obsession is almost parallel to Xiao's obsession with almond tofu-flavored anything.

"Heizou, you must be—"

"Confused? Nonsense. In fact, I think I have been attracted to you since the moment we were introduced to one another."

No way! You can't believe what's happening... Heizou's hand crawls up your neck and cups your cheek when he sways forward and nuzzles his nose up against your cheek. So close! It's just like a movie you were studying before!

He sighs, and his breath trickles down the side of your neck, making you shudder. He stands up, and you look down at his clenching fist. Heizou knows he shouldn't have been so bold to try and take a step in that direction with his manager. Xiao was right. He knows all the repercussions, and yet he...

"Heizou, come here."

Confused, he leans forwards again, doing the classic "kabedon" with his arm up against the world, along with his face placed barely inches away from yours.

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him forward, crashing your lips against his in a jaded haze of fervor and passion as the both of you bury your guys' hands in each other's hair. Savoring the moment against his chapped lips and smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat is the best pre-show adrenaline for optimum performance for the two of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

🍃 Kaedehara Kazuha [ Guitarist 1 / Dancer ]

"If I told you we could bathe in all the lights / Would you rise up, come and meet me in the sky? / Would you trust me when you're jumping from the heights? / Would you fall in the name of love?" (In The Name of Love by Bebe Rexha and Martin Garrix)

"Manager," Kazuha calls, peeking his head around the doorframe to see you slouched in a metal folding chair (like the Shinji chair meme). "You wanted to see me?"

Hearing Kazuha's dulcet tones make you turn your head, sitting up immediately with somewhat of a forced grin and a straightened stature as though you were discarding your previous countenance.

"Yes, I wanted to talk about your recent developments of the newest songs."

He hums and nods, moving into the wide space while closing the door behind him. "Well, it just so happens that I finished writing a dedicated piece behind the back of the rest of the guys," he replies as he reveals multiple small sheets of paper that he'd been hiding behind his back—covered in pretty writing and crossed-out scripture with chord names and string-picking directions.

He watches your expression light up with fascination. He knows what you're thinking too—you're just too easy to read. Between his index and middle finger, he holds out the sheets, and you gingerly (yet swiftly) take them into your hands.

Dreamscapes are made of memories we created all out of misery, You took my hollow and wounded heart and bandaged all of my injuries, For I can't give you my heart through any text I'll tell you that I love you in this life and the next

You keep reading over the lyrics. It's resemblant to Kazuha's typical style, but he makes sure to adjust the language so it still sounds good in music without having too many layers, or making the fans too confused. But... all of it is so strange since Kazuha doesn't normally write love songs. Whenever he writes any music—he always discusses with the boys what kind of features they want, while also acknowledging everyone's favorite style of playing is, and what will be most original and unique.

"Kazuha, this is a love song, is there... anything in particular that made you want to write this?"

"One of the pages is a full explanation and analysis of the whole piece," he nods, taking a seat in a chair that he's unfolding.

You find the page labeled with the highest number at the bottom and shuffle it to the top, before reading the explanation with confoundment.

Dedicated to you.

"Kazuha, who's... 'you?'"

"Is it not obvious enough?" Kazuha inquires, tilting his head with just a faint blush dusted on his cheeks while gazing down. "Should I spell it out for you?"

A second. Then two. Then ten.

It's.... you???

"Kazuha..." you stutter, furrowing your eyebrows in surprise.

Wait... are you just oblivious? Sure... Kazuha's gaze sometimes lingers just a moment too long, and you watch him run off towards the rest of the boys from time to time... and then they start talking and looking back at you, while you just cock your eyebrow in confusion. Sometimes, Venti throws his arm around him and messes up his hair, patting him on the back. Sometimes, Xiao and Aether groan in some sort of disapproval.

<> . . . <>

"Come on, Kazuha! You know you'll never get them the longer you keep sitting around!" Venti would say while the rest of the boys would be lounging around in the dressing room, getting ready for their seven 'o clock show.

"Venti, leave him be," Xiao remarks, grumbling as he slides his shirt on.

"Kazuha, he's right y'know~ ______ has been talking about how there are a bunch of people who keep flirting with them! For example, the other day—I saw them at the snack stand, and not one, but both of the sellers at the snack stand seemed to be interested in them," he explains in a somewhat sing-songy tone.

Kazuha clenches his belt in his hands, exhaling frustratedly with clenched teeth.

"There's no need to keep nagging him about it!" Aether exclaims, approaching Venti to try and snatch the alcohol bottle that he's about to crack open.

"Pathetic. Drinking before a show? Really?" the titled 'Wanderer' remarks.

"What can I say~" Venti chimes. "Consider it a factor to my unfathomable charisma~!"

"Kazuha, if I can have a couple words with you," Aether mutters, pulling up a chair to Kazuha, who's buckling on his extra accessories and straps. The braided vocalist leans forward, looking intently at the poet. "What are you afraid of?"

Kazuha's afraid to lose you. Back then, he lost everything. His family, his business, everything. Now, this band is practically the only thing he has. You are the one that saved him.

"Regardless," Aether continues. "What matters is that you communicate your feelings. I look at you, Kazuha, there's a bit of jealousy that creeps on your face. And it looks sad..."

All the boys stay quiet, before Heizou comes over, placing his hands on Kazuha's shoulders while spinning him around to let him look into the mirror at the both of themselves.

"What do you see in the mirror, Kazuha?"

What... does Kazuha see? It's just him, and looking at his own drooping face, sighing. What does he see? All he stares at is a man who has the heart to give advice to everyone but is more afraid than anything to make things awkward between you. The man parts his lips slightly, about to say something, before being cut off by the detective.

"I see..." Heizou observes, lifting his hands and patting them down onto Kazuha's while looking at him through the reflection of the mirror. "'Pages with scribbles,' 'tired eyes,' and 'newly bandaged fingers.' You've been writing a song for _______, haven't you~?"

Right on the dot.

"Just confess to them in the Kazuha way, Kazuha. Trying to tell your feelings in any other way isn't nearly as sincere. Knowing the manager, it won't be awkward whether you confess to them or not. They'll hold nothing against you for it! Just be you, Kazuha. You're a splendid poet and songwriter! As you say—'the heart wants what the heart wants.'"

<> . . . <>

"_______," he exhales your name. "Ever since that moment, we had encountered on that rainy street, and you scouted me for the 'talent' you saw in me... I believe that I have begun to develop a profound fondness for you."

His voice is a little shaky. You set the pages slowly down to the ground, moving slowly so you don't startle him.

"I never understood what 'love' was. And of course, as I wandered from place to place, I began to grasp that 'love' could many things. One's favorite snacks, the loved ones that we spend time with, but... most of all," Kazuha explains, approaching you as he slowly sits down on his knees, bowing slightly to you, fixated on the ground. "I have learned of 'love' because you saved me. I now understand what it means to truly want something. What it means... to want to protect something with your own life."

"I love you."

You sigh, smiling as you looking the nervous Kazuha on the floor. You stand up, pushing the metal chair away before joining him on the floor, and taking ahold of his hands in yours.

"I love you too," you smile, inching closer as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath, he leans his face closer to yours, his minty breath dancing on your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You reply by pressing your moist lips atop his own, dancing and bathing in the dim lights of the empty dressing room, feeling as though you were falling and floating both at the same time as he pins you delicately to the floor in the gracious moment.

if you're interested in part 2 with venti, scara/wanderer/"megumi", xiao, tighnari, yae miko, lumine, and zhongli, feel free to request part 2 (or even ask to be on a taglist)!

[venusinsilk]

Things I'm looking for at the flea market this morning-

-shelves!!! Any storage solutions, in particular things that are wall mounted. Wall mounted cabinets would be cool too. I maxed out all the closet space in this apartment and I still have boxes all over the floor that need to be unpacked.

-furniture made of bamboo or rattan. Chairs and small console tables, small and lightweight. My space is limited and I have to be able to move my furniture easily.

-beautiful statement shelf to place in front of my large north-facing window for displaying my plants. This will be the first thing ppl see when they enter my space.

-rugs, especially a big one for my front room. I have a vision of having a memory foam pad underneath a pretty rug, which is comfortable enough to lay on, maybe with a friend 🤫 and I want to have floor pillows to pair with the low coffee table that belonged to my grandmother in this space. For dining and hanging out on the floor, but make it super comfy! I love rugs with tassels and bright colors. There is a rug dealer at this flea market but his prices are usually more than $250, pls put cheap price tag vibes in the air for me if you're reading this!

-plant hangers, macrame and/or beaded

-a bakers rack or a kitchen island that can double as a dining table. This one is a long shot, but I'd rather buy this used than search for something on wayfair or ikea. I've already been looking online and I really don't like anything I've found so far. I need to expand my kitchen into the adjacent dining room if I ever hope to take baking orders again, and I'd love to have a functional workspace in this apartment. I need a good work bench, and being able to clear it off and seat guests there would be a bonus. I love hosting and I hope I can find something that works for my space...

I made this list to hold myself accountable. I am NOT to purchase any smalls (decorative glassware) or clothes!!!! I do not need more clothes!! Mutuals if you see me update this with clothes pls wag a finger at me in shame!

[psychicreadsgirl]

ENHYPEN Reading/Information

This is whatever I can pick up from ENHYPEN. There may be tea so I will not name anyone. This is a psychic reading.

One member likes to burp a lot and not cover their burps.

One member is super superstitious and has the potential to join some cult in the future.

All members have tried alcohol. Some members like to drink a lot and may possibly be addicted to alcohol now or in the future.

Some members rely heavily on medicine/pills to function or to relieve stress. Some may be addicted to drugs or will become addicted to drugs in the future.

One member is very weight conscious and has an eating disorder.

The members all dislike one member in particular and will make fun of him or do stuff to him.

One member likes to brag a lot about the contacts he has or who he has dated/has had flings with. He even shares the conversations/photos/videos with others.

A couple members have some promiscuous/racy photos or videos.

One member is quite close to a BTS member.

One member is dating an older idol.

A few members have been forced to do some things that they did not want to do in order to advance in their career/help the group.

One member has a crush on an idol in the same company.

Some members smoke/vape a lot and may be addicted to it.

One member really hates going on airplanes and has a fear of dying on a plane, so he usually has a stern face when he's at the airport.

3 members want to leave ENHYPEN and go solo.

2 members really want to go into acting.

2 members want to focus on producing/rapping.

1 member totally regrets being an idol and wishes he had pursued his other route.

One member is addicted to eating junk food/ramen.

A few members love partying and clubbing. One has done some online dating. One member plays games online and also makes friends/partners online.

One member is in a long-distance relationship.

A few members only do open relationships and are always switching partners. A couple also cheat/have cheated on their partner(s).

One member loves to bite his nails, including his toe nails.

Most members suffer from mental health illnesses. One member is particularly depressed - please see help, this member.

One member is like a tyrant and bosses people around. He likes to kick people and chairs. He also demands the best/gets the lunch boxes first. He acts very playful on camera with the members where the pranks/touches can be too extreme if examined carefully. He has thrown some members in lockers/different storage areas or caused them to be late or destroyed their clothing somehow.

One member is so messy that most of the members cannot stand his messiness. He is a hoarder. Sometimes he leaves trash/unfinished drinks or food out for too long that mold will grow in there or flies will emerge.

One member has as foot fetish.

One member keeps buying stuff that his debt is too much.

Some members are still exploring their sexuality.

One member is very sexist.

One member suffers from insomnia.

A couple of members will hit on people online.

One member loves to make fun of fans and mock them.

One member accepts a lot of luxury gifts/clothes/bags from some fans or some people who have crushes on him.

[trashyangelic]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 || ғᴇʟɪɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ (1)

·       ❝ 𝓣𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ❞    · ·                chapter one                 ·

🌷⁺.  [ ♡ ]  — MASTERLIST | NEXT

Marinette gotten up from her bed that she made a makeover of her bedroom its no longer pink but its pastel pink mixed with white colors instead of hot pink all over her room it doesn't look good when she first saw it. Instead of sleeping on the top where she normally sleeps in. 

She can finally sleep on the side of her room that she never touch at all after moving her computer and desk from it but she bought an extended cord for the plugins into her computer but she place them near the empty spot just at the corner instead it has the plugin there for her storage it before fixing her computer. The desk that is in front of her bed is for her study desk. 

She even place all her school stuffs on the shelf above her desk. She even have a storage for the kwamis to explore around. 

It took her three whole weeks to make over on her closet now that has enough room for her clothes that she makes of her own with some help from her mother to make it more roomie even her mother approved it. As for her fabrics are stored inside the drawers at her closet with the sewing machine included. But on the other side of her room is quite empty she might need to buy something to fill that in possibly a dream box that she saw on pinterest. 

That she had help with from her father to place it down so she can fix it herself. She make it look like from the picture she saw on pinterest when she was on her computer last couple weeks before remaking her room.

She replace her old computer into a new computer but she puts her pc drive on the desk. But she might need to build her own high-end gaming PC to fit most of her designs sketches and her games she normally play but she tends to play other ones besides UMS 3 they are Honkai Star Rail, Genshin Impact, Elsword Online, Roblox, and Minecraft. Along with her mic that is near her computer that she finally done with it. I might need to make a new password for my social accounts along with my website as well. She thought to herself so that way her so called classmates won't be hacking into her computer for it.. 

She also removed the posters of Adrien along with her classmates pictures then burn them outside last night. Then replaced it for music she adores and listens to they were Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, BLACKPINK, TWICE, Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez, BTS, Aespa, XG, Seventeen, Lee Felix, Taeyang, Jay Park, Vinida Weng, Mao Yanqi, and NCT. But leaves the bulletin board with the tracking of akumas to the main source. She didn't forget to add a sound proof in her room so that way her parents won't have to hear her music going on loud.

Felix went to pick up Dupain-Cheng since Chloe has been nagging him this morning since she got held back by her butler and her father about something. So he arrived to the bakery, "Oh welcome Felix. What can I do for you?" Sabine said at him she is betting on her husband if Felix confess his love to her daughter for 150 euros.

"Is Marinette awake? Chloe has been nagging me to pick her up since she couldn't do it. But I would like a coffee and a crossiant please." Felix stated as Sabine nodded and went to make the coffee but also grabbed a crossiant. 

"Marinette is upstairs you can go up there." Sabine told Felix who nodded. He got his breaksfast and walk up the stairs to Marinette's room. As soon he reach the door then open it he saw the room changed this must have take weeks to finish this. So he sat on the chair to eat his crossiant but also drink his coffee. 

Marinette is in her closet changing but also she changed her hairstyle instead of wearing lower pigtails everyday. She made her hair into a bun but leaves the rest of the hair down as she use the hairpin and bobbypin to make it stay still. 

The door creak open revealing Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Felix was speechless how Dupain-Cheng look good its way better than her old clothes she wears every single day. But he already knew that Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug it wasn't hard to figure it out despite of her hairstyle from before and her eye color is the same. "Oh hello Felix." Marinette said with a smile causing him to blush as she giggle at his expression.

"I came to pick you up since Chloe has been nagging me. Oh before I forget Chloe manage to change your class to Mrs. Mendeleiev instead so you are coming with me in my class with Kagami, Adrien, and Luka." Felix said firmly as she nodded. Instead of wearing that purse she bought a backpack online last week. 

"Say didn't Mrs. Mendeleiev say anything about field trips yet?" Marinette asked him. "She did but we need to do the fundraiser first to get the money you know." Felix stated as they both left the bakery to school follow by Chloe who scowl but ate her croissants with cream inside along with some coffee of her liking.

Arriving to Francois Dupont, Marinette is still chatting with Felix while Chloe follow behind still munching on her snacks that she got from the bakery. She is mostly welcome in the Dupain-Chengs household after apologizing to Marinete for bullying her for years. Then Kagami came by and kiss her girlfriend Chloe as Chloe gave her a coffee and her snacks as well. 

"MARINETTE! HOW DARE YOU PUNCH LILA?!" Alya screech causing her to cover her ears quickly as she remain calm but the demeanor changes from calm to icy cold quite a level to Kagami. As Alya raise her fist at Marinette but she caught it which surprised her then she twist her arm as she scream in pain. 

"Where's your proof huh? I just came to school with Kagami, Felix, and Chloe. Get that in your thick skull. You stupid wannabe reporter." She snarl coldly with so much malice and venom in it caused her to shiver down her spine and backed away. Just before she release her grip on Alya's hand she slapped her in the face hard causing her to stumble to the ground. As to there was a gasp behind Alya's back and a few from Marinette who had no idea she could that.

"You dare hit me?" Alya said while holding her cheek and stared in shock at Marinette who seem calm but glared at her with her death cold eyes. "What wouldn't I dare?" She said to her in a calm simple way with a hint of sickly sweet tone that turned out to be a malice tone. 

"By title as we are students. But by rank, I am the great-granddaughter Head Ambassador of China. Who gave you the audacity to strike a court-appointed official? Do you really want my great-grandfather to declare war with Paris right now." Marinette said calmly although Kagami and Felix didn't know this information except Chloe.

"Bullshit! What kind of court-appointed official are you?" Alya exclaimed as Rose gasped, Bad Move Alya. Rose thought to herself. Until Marinette slapped Alya again causing her to fall down the ground.

"Marinette, you're pushing it too far!" Adrien butted in as Lila went to aid Alya holding her up. "Alya. Based on your insults and attempted assault, you could be punished severely. If you don't believe me, feel free to report it to the police or your lawyer. I'll wait and see to it." Marinette said coldly to them then walk away back to her group as Kagami stared at her speechless.

"Oh and one more thing, Alya... Grow up. And stop acting like a child. Your in high school. You act like a kindergarten." She said coldly then walked away with Felix, Kagami, and Chloe to Mrs. Mendeleiev's class. That tone in Marinette's voice gave chills across the Akuma Class. Nino gulped of how scary Marinette can be if she is near a limit. Lila shudder when she saw Dupain-Cheng glaring at her.

 🌷⁺.  [ ♡ ]  —  Tagged: (to get notification for the next chapter) --

 🌷⁺.  [ ♡ ]  —  i took one of the quotes from a historical chinese drama if you haven't guess it already. its actually What's Wrong With My Princess (Episode 26).

[desertdollranch]

Hello! I have a dilemma and am wondering if you or your followers might have any tips. I’m entering a phase of my life where I don’t have space to display my AG dolls or their clothes, but am not prepared to part with them. Do you have any advice regarding the best storage solutions for keeping a collection in good condition (without paying a fortune)?

If it helps, there are 11 of them, with the oldest being about 16 years old. I sadly don’t have any of their original boxes, though I do have some for clothes/accessories.

Thank you so much, and happy holidays to you and your dolls!

Hi! I do indeed have a solution for you. I recommend buying a few large plastic storage totes with lids and storing your dolls in those. Here's an example of what they look like.

Here's where to buy them online from Home Depot. They're a little over $12 apiece, but you can also find them at Walmart and Target for a few bucks cheaper.

The reasons why I recommend these:

They are airtight and watertight, so they're protected from dust, mold, and humidity

The tightly sealed lids protect against rodents and bugs

Hard plastic top, bottom, and sides mean the totes cannot be easily crushed by boxes stacked on top

Clear plastic helps you easily identify the contents; if you opt for an opaque container, you can put a label on it

Portable and easy to carry around

If this is the option you choose, then I recommend storing the dolls unclothed in order to avoid dye transfer from their clothes to their vinyl skin, which can happen with long exposure to dyed fabric. This is especially risky if they're stored in a humid location. If that's the case, I recommend storing an open container of baking soda (cover it with a paper towel and secure with a rubber band), or silica gel pellets, in the plastic tote. That will suck up any moisture in the air and direct it away from your dolls.

Use another separate tote to store doll clothes. If you have even a small amount of wool clothing, definitely store a moth deterrent with the clothes. Strong-smelling herbs like lavender, rosemary, and cloves will keep moths and other insects away, as will cedar chips.