#local libraries will save the world

[charliespringsleftconverse]

I need to get on my soapbox for a second. There’s this app called Overdrive (that is now called Libby) that you can use for free and it connects to your local library. It allows you to read and listen to any books that your library has available. It’s literally the best thing I’ve never spent money on.

I’ve read SO many novels, graphic novels, and listened to a ridiculous amount of books on there. If you love reading and you love saving money, consider checking the app out!

I’m sharing this as someone who lives on a budget. I have not spent over 20 dollars on books this past year. I’ve bought some books because I wanted to pre-order from favorite authors but this app has single handedly changed my life. Hopefully, it helps you too!

[thebibliosphere]

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

[thatrandomsarahchick]

DC x DP short

I'm picturing Danny moving to Gotham once he's an adult. He came out to his parents, and it went fine. More than fine. They listened to how he was struggling at school because he kept having to chase down the ghosts they let out by leaving the portal open. Jack was super proud of his son for being a ghost hunter even as a ghost, but Maddie understood his concern and set up some new protocols for the portal.

It now automatically closes after two minutes unless a specific command is put in by Danny to keep it open while he is in the Zone, and the shielding around it actually works to stop ghosts coming trig without hurting them now.

The shine of the mortal world has worn off for most of his regulars now, and those that come through have figured out compromises so they can still fulfil their obsessions without hurting others. The meta-protection act officially disbands the GIW, and Red Huntress is given a very thorough speaking to about personal bias and vendettas. She's not allowed back in the field until she comes to the realisation that ghosts are people too, and that she been the bad guy by hunting them the way she did. Phantom is officially recognised as a Hero, but he turns down working for any teams or joining the Big Leagues. He agrees to act as a back up though, in case of any world ending event.

By the time senior year rolls around, Danny has gotten his grades up enough that he can go to a pretty decent university if he wants to. He chooses Gotham University for his engineering degree because they're a feeder school for Wayne Enterprises, who in turn are a feeder company for working for the Justice League as a civilian engineer. Tucker also chooses GU for their tech program, while Sam elects not to go to university straight away.

Tucker and Danny move into an apartment right on the borders of Crime Alley and The Narrows. Tucker manages an impressive 4 months as a local hacker before Oracle notices him, but Danny only manages 3 weeks before he's spotted by a Bat.

He's lying down a foot above his building's roof, looking at the stars. It's a very rare cloudless night, and the power is out in his area. Poison Ivy had launched an attack earlier in the day that had taken cut the power lines, with her mutant plants feeding on the smog and pollution to get stronger.

Duke was up late, finishing the day shift by a quick loop of The Narrows, when he noticed a slightly glowing teenager(?) floating on one of the roofs. He takes note that the man isn't causing any harm and is just peacefully stargazing, before calling it in to Jason. He was technically supposed to be off the clock an hour ago, and besides, the building was on the Crime Alley side of this street. It's Jason's problem now.

Jason, on the other hand, is exhausted and just wants to have a quiet patrol before collapsing in bed. He hadn't been hit by Ivy's plants, but had taken a couple of tumbles while dodging them. He heads over to the address Duke gave him, to find the guy still floating there staring at the sky. He gets it, he does, he would float above the grime that coats Gotham rooftops if he could, but it's dangerous for a meta to be so unawares of his surroundings like this while obviously displaying his powers.

Danny, meanwhile, had clocked both of the vigilantes coming near him, but was really hoping that they would leave him alone. It had been a very long day for him. He'd finally managed to get to campus for his class, only to find that the place was covered in overgrown plants. He'd had to freeze a few to get into the building, and had then spent most of the afternoon in the library due to his class being cancelled. Unfortunately for him, his nearly finished assignment that he'd spent the day working on was eaten by one of the giant flowers on his way home. He'd been 'saved' by the stabby Robin, which had caused him to then also lose his laptop as they crashed to the rooftop a few streets over.

Thankfully, he had an amazing best friend in Tucker, who was doing his best to recover as much data as possible. On the downside, though, Tucker was mad at him for now having saved a backup of his files since they left Amity. He'd fled to the roof to escape his wrath, plans of bribes in the form of food running through his mind, when he'd caught sight of the Stars. Holy shit. It was so clear tonight!

He didn't even realise he'd begun to glow and float, too caught up in naming all of the stars and constellations he could see. His Obsession was feeling very satisfied tonight. Usually he had to invisibly fly above the cloud cover to see such a sight. Sure, the light pollution was still bad, but his mind was able to fill in the blanks across the sky.

The moment Jason landed on his roof, Danny heaved a great sigh. Damnit. The fun police were here. He wrenched his eyes from the sky, only to notice that - oh, shit - he was floating again. He fell to the roof with a light thump.

"Heeeyyy stranger, come here often?" Danny asked, as he rolled over to his side, propping his head up on his hand.

[hillbillyoracle]

You Should Get A Radio

I want to convince you to get a radio. It can be a pretty cheap one - you can sometimes thrift them even - just something to listen to the music and shows that are literally streaming completely for free all around you right this very moment.

Libraries get a lot of love - deservedly so. They are such a frugal resource for entertainment and the community at large. I would argue that radio is very similar.

Find New Music

Radio can introduce you to music you never would have run across otherwise. Spotify and the like have a goal of getting you to listen for as long as possible. This incentivizes the alorgithm picking your music recs to stay very safely within your known listening profile. But since a radio station is broadcasting to a large number of people, not you individually, you're more likely to run into music you personally wouldn't have picked but actually enjoy.

Not to mention that if you're in the US at least, you're very likely within range of a public broadcasting station which not only has local and national news, but various music shows as well - World Cafe is a treasure. College radio stations, if you have one nearby by, can be hit or miss, but in general, it is a great way to find local and very niche music you wouldn't hear played anywhere else. If you're in a city, you very likely have a couple of hyperlocal low power FM stations - many who serve communities who don't speak English and who have their own unique music programming. I also enjoy a lot of the adult contemporary and "oldies" stations I can get near me.

The Ads Aren't Targeted

On most stations, you'll hear some ads. Some stations you'll hear more than a few. But none of those ads are based on an ever growing mass of information being collected about you and your listening habits to decide what specific ad you're most likely to actually act on. They're just...an ad. When you turn it off, it can't follow you around until you actually buy it.

Also, if you're listening to local stations, a lot of the ads are for local businesses in your community; places owned by your neighbors and the people you live with. For me, it's been a nice way to be reminded of what places exist in my community since I usually go to my regular haunts and nothing else.

Frugal and Fun

Radios can be pretty cheap. I see them in thrift stores pretty regularly around here and you might be able to try Marketplace for one. Mine was a birthday gift and I paid a little more to upgrade the antena later. Mine uses rechargeable batteries but I think they make ones that are just straight up rechargeable now.

Since I can't control the music, I'm not turning to it to skip through music or pick a different playlist or look up a given artist I want to hear because I just remembered they existed. I'm more present, whether I'm just listening to the show or pairing it with something else (recently it's been knitting or solitaire games).

Similar to the way that libraries can be one way you decrease your reliance on subscription culture, radio is another. Especially for public broadcasting stations, the programming is always changing, there are new shows every week, and there are often ways for you to get involved. It's another form of entertainment that often gets overlooked.

It's Screen Free

Not much to say here. It's just a big plus to me. I'm trying to take more breaks from screens and make the time I do spend on screens less addictive. I like that I can throw on a radio station and listen to a show without ever having to resist the urge to check email or something.

Vital in Emergencies

Have you thought of how you'd get information during an emergency if the internet goes out? Radio is a great option and still regularly saves lives. In the event of emergencies, local radio stations are often some of the very first people to get information on where shelters are being set up, where resoruces are being distributed, and how to stay safe through the course of the event. Depending on the event, emergency managers will actually bring in radio equipment to keep broadcasting going if there's been damage to a tower and even set up temporary/mobile station up to get the word out if there's not a local station they can partner with.

On days when the weather isn't looking so great, I often have the weather band radio turned on so I can get the latest NWS forecasts and hear when a watch is issued - phones usually only get warnings unless you go out of your way to sign up for more. And out where I live, I usually don't even get those since cell signal is spotty.

It's a great investment in your safety that you can also enjoy whenever.

Conclusion

Buy a radio. Especially if you're looking to get away from subscriptions and cut costs. You can own your radio - you can't own Spotify. It's also just something I think everyone should have since it's such a vital resource in emergencies.

ETA: I am a young millinial. I grew up with radio and remember a time before the internet so I'm not saying any of this as if I'm discovering it. It's more I've been not only enjoying it a lot lately but reminded that a lot of people aren't aware of everything it offers so I wanted to share that in case it was news to anyone.

[justalittlesolarpunk]

hi! i love your blog :D do you have any advice to implement low waste and solarpunk aspects into everyday life with a tight budget? keep doing what you do!

Hi!

Thanks for asking - I’ve had this question before and it’s definitely a real problem. Organic, plastic free food is expensive. So is handmade durable clothing, and train fares these days. It can feel like only the rich can be solarpunks, which is pretty counterintuitive given its anticapitalist ideology. But! I’m here to tell you there’s lots you can do to bring solarpunk into your life in a cost-effective way.

To start with, lots of solarpunk spaces are free or cheap. Get a library card and you can borrow as many books and DVDs and other resources as you like. Look up to see if there’s a library of things in your neighbourhood, and join a buy nothing or stuff for free group online. Download TooGoodToGo, which lets you access food from local cafes and restaurants which would otherwise go to waste. See if there’s a repair cafe that operates near you - I managed to get a pair of trousers mended at one of these for free, and I had been thinking I would need to pay a tailor (which is fine if you can afford it! Skilled labour deserves fair wages!). In some places plant-based food is cheaper, so when it is, choose it. But in others it will cost more than animal products so you have to decide on a case by case basis whether saving money or a particular diet is more important to you.

There’s lots else you can do for minimal spending or that actually saves you money. Walking to work or school avoids the expenditure in the petrol for a drive or a bus fare. If you’re within walking distance and able to do so, I’d recommend it. Joining your local chapter of Extinction Rebellion, Friends of The Earth, Greenpeace, The A22 network or any other active climate group in your area is almost always free and just involves a small weekly time commitment. This will introduce you to activists and inform you about protests and public meetings you can attend.

If you have the time in your week and the physical ability, which I acknowledge many people don’t, you can also join some sort of volunteer group looking after a nature reserve or tending a community garden (which might also give you access to free or discounted food). Learning to forage is also a good skill as that really is free food!

Depending on where you are, a green electricity tariff *can* also be less expensive. If this is the case and you have control over your provider, it’s worth switching to it. Buying books and clothes secondhand will also be better for the environment and your bank balance. Teaching yourself about the climate and the natural world with podcasts, YouTube, online free articles and other resources is also free and the knowledge will help you keep solarpunk at the front of your mind. Read good news stories online whenever you can, to remind you that good things are happening already.

If you’re employed, you can also try to influence green policy at your workplace or in your trade union. If you’re at school or university, joining (or setting up!) the environmental society and/or lobbying for change at the SU are both good ideas and shouldn’t necessarily cost you anything. If you can - and I know this is inaccessible for a big swathe of the population - put a very small amount of money aside whenever possible, because the more you save the more you can afford to buy better products, donate to causes, help out the needy in your community, travel in a greener way, and other more expensive choices. It’s all about that dual power.

Hope this helps get you started!

[katy-l-wood]

✨Release day!!!✨

My new book, The Pits, is officially out in the world today! 🥳 The book is written AND illustrated by me.

Thank you so much to everyone who has already bought, reviewed, recommended, and loved this little book of mine.

I still have a few of the shiny special Kickstarter editions available in my shop, plus some of the Kickstarter cover paperbacks. I've also got the ebook up there, if you'd like to buy it directly from me!

Plus, if you head to my website you can read the whole first chapter for free right here!

You can also buy it from all sorts of other online shops (I've got a hand dandy list of links to different shops here) or request it at your local library.

Check out the book trailer (illustrated and animated by me!) below, and the blurb below that.

No one goes into the Pits. No one understands the magic of the Pits. For those who try, there are consequences. - When Clarabella's girlfriend Emilia goes missing Clarabella tracks down the only person who can help: her outlaw older sibling Royal, who she hasn’t seen in three years. Royal knows more about the strange magic of the world than anyone, more than they should. Magic Clarabella doesn’t believe in. Not until the path to find Emilia leads deep into the mysterious and magical Pits that stretch along the spine of the continent, forcing her to rethink everything she ever believed. But once Clarabella, Royal, and Royal's gang enter they discover Royal can no longer leave. Now Clarabella has to choose who she loves enough to save: Royal, or Emilia?

Buy the book now!

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Autumn and winter is a RUBBISH time for my love of solarpunk to be rekindled, because so much of what I can act on is guerrilla gardening. Alas, here I am, getting back to my solarpunk roots.

Do you have any suggestions for solarpunk activities we can work on in the cold months?

God I feel for this!!! Winter always feels like such a festering time to be in love with solarpunk. Not to mention how starved we are for winter content for solarpunk and lunarpunk in general. But yeah!! Here's some ideas to do in winter!!!

Out and about:

There are a lot more social clubs in your city then you'd expect! I know 2 different community associations in my city that have social clubs that go in adult field trips (like to farms and cafes ans boardgame places!!)! And have crafting clubs! And the best part is if their in your community, it's within a decent walk of you but it's almost always walkable!

Using a library!! For anything! Everything! In my provenance we got a saying "Use it or they

Graffiti- leaving kind messages or fun stickers all over the place isn't really a weather restricted activity for the most part. I know someone who made a Playlist filled with union songs and rebellion songs and put a code for it and links to how to unionize on stickers and did that.

Adopt a stop- more cities have these then you might think! But adopt a stop programs basically let you take care of a certain bus stop and this lets you add things (like good benches, shoveling and removing ice, asking the city to add heaters, etc..) you become the advocate for that bus stop. If your city doesn't have a program like it yet you can ask your city or community to start one since it saves a bunch of money on maitance costs!

At home:

Archiving and pirating - highly recommend doing it in a physical sense if you can afford it. Bc then you can give them out as gifts!

Create!! - Sewing, sewing for friends, knitting gloves/scarfs for ppl who might need it, make art to inspire others via writing or drawing or other mediums! Gift economies require gifts after all so make some!

Learn! - learning a new skill, like canning or how to install solarpanels. Researching in general, but also keeping up to date with local politics and what you can do on the ground there. Building up knowledge is such as useful even if it doesn't feel like your doing anything.

Connect! - Shoveling neighbors walkways, or in general connecting with the ppl in your immediate surroundings! They can help you out in ways you couldn't imagine, someone didn't bake often so they gave me 15lbs of flour!! And their extra pair of snow boots, I hadn't had snow boots since I was 12 years old and it meant the world to me. The pizza I taught her daughter to make and a cheap meal for them meant the world for them. These small acts really are what tie each other together.

Plan! - plan for next year, what kind of equipment can you gather? What do you wanna accomplish next growing season? Seed swaps are also a fun thing I know ppl will do in winter as they start preserving food!

[sugarsnappeases]

just had this thought of lily as a lit student volunteering at her local library and barty as this delinquent being assigned to do community service there. like she starts off with a bit of a ‘oh this poor criminal, i must save him’ mindset and then is constantly frustrated by barty as it’s clear that he just. doesn’t want to be saved. and he’ll deliberately mess up the book organisation systems and try to scam people by fining them when their books are nowhere near overdue so he can keep the money for himself. and lily is running around after him, huffing as she loudly puts the books back in their proper places, whacking him round the back of the head when she catches him trying to scam some old man. she’s screaming at him in the back room, leaning over him as he sits back unbothered on one of the chairs, shoving her finger in his face but he just grins and tries to bite it so she’s whacking him again and storming out bc he’s just SO infuriating. but then somehow he’s also going in depth with her about the motivations of iago in othello and whether the tragedy can be blamed entirely on him or if society itself plays a part in the plot’s development or animatedly discussing keats’ ode to a nightingale and the concept of negative capability and how it relates to the body. and she’s just completely fascinated by him, she wants to analyse him like one of the texts from her classes, she thinks she could write essay upon essay about his view of the world and the way his brain works and the tattoo she can always see just poking out of the top of his collar. and now she’s missing deadlines bc she wants to spend time w him, and laughing as he knocks over an entire bookshelf while trying to tell her about the book he’s just read, and really he doesn’t want to be saved but maybe he’s saving her instead…

[hollowtakami]

THE BIRD’S BOOKSHOP

BANNER ART: KADEART

Keigo Takami x GN!Reader

CONTENT: bookworm keigo x bookworm reader, pure fluff, keigo has bird mannerisms + is the cutest hopeless romantic

WORD COUNT: 447

AUTHOR NOTE: thank you so much for 100 followers!! i appreciate every single one of you, every single interaction! i loved writing this one, im thinking of making it a fluff miniseries? for now, be safe, friends! you are so loved!

In one universe, Keigo Takami is one of Japan’s  top heroes. He’s saving lives everyday, constantly on high alert. He’s a marionette on a string, the puppeteer the HPSC - they raised him, made him into a “hero”. 

In another universe, Keigo Takami spends his days with his face in a book, sipping his favourite sweet, canned coffee. 

He adores fantasy novels, he gets lost in them for hours. Losing himself in the pages, with every turn comes with it a new discovery. Keigo is captivated by the mystique, the weird and wonderful creatures bound by ink and paper. 

He reads of unlikely heroes, pilgrims, sorcery and witchcraft, dragons and humans with wings; those are his favourite characters, he loves seeing himself in them. 

If he’s not at a locally-owned cafe, Keigo will be at the bookstore. When he’s not clocked in at the library, he’s at his second home. He spends hours scanning the shelves, reading blurbs of books he found interesting, re-shelving them with careful fingers. 

All the employees know him, they love the charming, golden bird that always walks in with a smile and stars in his eyes. 

He’s tried local book clubs, but found that they thought his incessant rambling - or, chirping - about his latest reads to be rather irritating. 

At times, Keigo felt erroneous, a dusty, tattered thing among a freshly-printed paperback. 

That was until he wandered again into the bookshop, and saw you sauntering around the fantasy section - his place in the bookstore. 

He didn’t feel territorial, as a bird of his stature would. Instead, Keigo Takami found himself besotted by the stranger gazing at the spine of one of his favourite novels. 

He has to fight down an excited chirp as he sees your hands fold over the book, you slip it out and read over the blurb. Though, his wings flap audibly and catch your attention, the soft breeze tickling your face. 

You look over and smile at the sheepish bird in front of you, an awkward smile plastered on his face, redder than his wings. 

“Sorry-! Uh, I couldn’t help but notice you’d picked up some of my favourites!” 

You can hear the excitement in the bird’s voice, and feel those emotions repeated in the beating of your heart. 

You beam, “Yeah! They’re one of my favourite authors, actually,” 

The bookstore staff watched as you enamoured over each other, discussing your beloved fantasy novels; the best parts of ongoing series, plot twists and your favourite characters. 

They smiled. 

Keigo Takami had finally found someone who shared his love for the world within pages of a book. Little did he know that you’d been searching for the exact same thing. 

[beloved-blaiddyd]

A Tasteless Cup [Yandere!Joker/Reader]

Prompt: After the destruction of your previous reality, you and Akira Kurusu landed in Teyvat. In an effort to stay afloat, Akira had set up a book café in Mondstadt alongside you. However, is this the true flavor of "Freedom"? [Dedicated to: Riley H. Goodheart, for the Alone Together event]

CW: yandere themes, dubious food, manipulation/controlling behavior, toxic relationship dynamic. P.S: Akira is aged up [20s] in this fic, happens after Persona 5.

To Akira, those he lets into his heart will become an intrinsic part of him. They are more than a trick of a card, more than a mask to mimic and steal for his own, more than a numbers game. Every bit of them is his soul. His relationships are the culmination of his being and, eventually, his raison d'etre. 

And Akira Kurusu had a hard time coping with losing these links. 

To others, relationships are no different from chains. The surrounding people are less a home and more like bars to a cage— a prison. And despite being somewhat of a Mr/Ms. Congeniality, you aren't as affected by the fact that neither of you can return to your respective world.

You are both empty. You have been handed a clean slate, an empty card, and an empty vision.

You are both "fools" again.      

"Bit too early in the morning to start a serious discussion…" Akira tiredly muttered, removing his glasses before rubbing his eyes.

But as long as the sun rises once more, does a rebirth truly matter?

Anyone would be remiss to disregard the sheer jadedness in his eyes and the slight breathlessness of his speech. Akira poured himself a cup. Normally served to others rather than his indulgence, you quietly noticed that his cup lacked sugar. The cafe owner drank and embraced its bitterness, unflinching. 

It's been three months since you both arrived in the world of Teyvat. Getting by as an Outlander proved difficult, and thankfully, Akira is kind towards you and a jack-of-all-trades. One might say he has "maxed out his stats." Charismatic, skilled, and bold, he has the makings for an entrepreneur with a pyro vision to boot. Unsurprisingly, he had become one of old Mond's eligible bachelors in a short time frame. 

So, by just the third week, he managed to persuade Master Ragnvindr with a solid pitch. The cafe you both sit in is a testament to your shared hard work. With his brew proficiency and your hobby of accumulating knowledge through books and art pieces, the cozy place had become a second home for individuals such as the local librarian and the Guild's investigator. 

But you'll always remember his words the night before he was invited into Duke Ragnvindr's study room.

"Akira, are you sure about this?" You muttered, tugging his sleeve. "Once you finalize it, you can't just..."

"Hmm? Why are you hesitating?" He tilted his chin up slightly, confused. "It's a good way to keep our finances afloat, right? Don't you want to keep collecting books and art supplies? I thought you said you wanted to have a small library someday."

"But, for you to work this much for it-"

"You matter to me. You are the only thing left binding me down here in Teyvat." He casually shot you down, but his light tone could not erase the heaviness of his words. "Besides..."

"Don't you like it when I make a hot cup and fresh pastries just for you?" 

That dream materialized into something called Cafe LeBlanc. Though he claims the name wasn't his but a charming, cranky old man's— you doubt anyone else can come up with that. But he sounded genuine enough. His unexplainable "silent" face can sometimes make him a hard read.

… This isn't one of those times. You know what's troubling him quite well. 

"Yeah…" you muttered. "Can't we save this conversation for the end of the day instead?"

Akira laughed. 

"Smart," he hummed humorlessly. 

"You know I get too tired to do anything at night except washing dishes and doing crosswords. It's not happening. We'll have this talk now."

Fair enough. Avoiding one's problems is a mindset you never advocated. You'd be a terrible hypocrite if you start now. "Alright, I'll hear you out."

You shifted from your seat, dragging it closer to the counter. Akira downed his cup on the other side, revealing no liquid gold in its bottom. His eyes were wide awake thanks to the caffeine, yet you couldn't even glance upward. 

"(Y/n), do you remember how I got this pyro vision?"

You blinked, unsure how he'd make the fact relevant. Still, you nodded.

A long time ago, you liked how open Akira was about himself. You can tell he had immense trust issues he had worked on fixing. Akira is a good man. Being wrongfully expelled and imprisoned at a young age must've done damages you can't quite comprehend fully. Sometimes, you wish you had the courage to be just as vulnerable, too.

He traced the outline of a pyro symbol on the table with his slender finger collecting not a single dust nor stain. Despite the warmth his vision may hold, it did not detract from the cold atmosphere you both had to face. With the angle you were viewing him, you can't help but notice his eyelashes. They're prettier than yours, you thought. If only his glare wasn't so pointed.

"When I arrived in this world, I was alone and confused. But you? You weren't. I saw your face— the face of someone who had nothing to lose to begin with."

Akira's gaze softened. He was right. You adapted to this new world so suspiciously well. 

"I couldn't tell whether you saw our situation as a positive or whether you thought this whole transfer to another reality was a cruel joke. But I had a feeling you were as horrified as I was. That you couldn't bear the thought of living alone. I think that you also had friends you cared for, but now, you will never be able to hear their voices again."

He breathed in shakily, his eyes heavy. Akira may seem like a silent person, no different from Duke Ragnvindr, but the time you spent together backs up what your instincts are testifying right this second.

There's one true thought in his mind.

After all his efforts.

After all that he has gone through so that you'll stay by his side.

What was it all for?

"So, when a Lawachurl wounded you in Windrise, I stepped in. I can't help but project myself onto you. I thought about how you must also have friends waiting– family waiting– whether it's a cat or a sister— I knew I just had to. I had to risk everything, even if you were just a stranger to me then." He clenched his fists. "And you were worth it. You were absolutely worth every risk. You were worth everything. I knew I had to survive, if not for myself, but to help you."

"Even without some sort of— card– or whatever— to indicate it, I knew our relationship was progressing. That our understanding of each other has reached such high ranks. I know we had become each other's most trusted confidant, so why? Listen, I value freedom too, but—"

He slammed his cup down— you jolted as you heard it chip slightly. It wasn't his intent to scare. Akira would never wish to frighten you. But he can't stop his emotions and movements from being brash and pointed. 

"... Why did you want to quit working with me?"

There it goes.

"Is it because I haven't spent much time with you lately? You know I've been busy with trying to invest in a better flat—"

The pace of his breathing was starting to quicken.

"Kurusu, it's not that…" You need to rationalize this with him. Fast.

"I-Is it because work has been too much? I told you we could hire someone if you feel too faint for the job. I care about your health— hell— maybe even more than you do—"

"Akira, listen to me—"

His futile attempt to maintain control was like an age-weakened thread. The fibers of his composure whittled away string by string, itching to snap entirely. Akira's jaw clenched. 

The manacle may not be anchoring his feet down as it did in the Velvet Room, but there's no denying that doubt is tugging and clawing at his neck. He knew that if he should continue, only strained words would come from his coffee-bitter lips. 

He rubbed his head against his shoulder. He had to have been wiping a tear away, trying to make it unnoticeable but failing.

"But why are you LEAVING m—"

"Behold, for this fine hour, you are not only graced with the presence of soft rays— you are also blessed by myself: Fischl, the Prinzessin der Verurteilung!"

"Mein Fräulein meant to say good morning to you both, Arsene and Sholmes."

... Akira chuckled a short and strained sound that could easily be missed by a weak ear.

As though a switch had been flipped, Akira's contorted expression turned back to his customer service smile. You trembled slightly. Perhaps it's a skill he mastered during his part-time worker years in high school, but he seemed a little too good at hiding such overwhelming frustrations— almost shape-shifting.

It's… 

Eerie.

He's smiling. It's his usual smile he has that has a calm allure and a hint of cockiness.

As if nothing happened five seconds ago.

"Ah, greetings, Your Highness!"

The guests were none other than some of the regulars, Amy and her bird familiar. This blonde, eye-patched girl is the only person in Little Mond who consistently makes Akira act dramatic. 

He bowed, not missing a beat of young Amy's theatrics. After spending so many years chatting with Yusuke, he's gotten used to bouncing back conversations of this nature. Akira enjoys the young investigator's company. He saw tiny bits of his friend in her.

"What shall we, humble servants, offer you this dawn? Will it be your usual order, or does our dear royal have something else in mind entirely? We will do our best to provide you with maximum entertainment! After all, this is your castle, Mein Fräulein."

You stiffened.

We.

He's not letting you go just yet. You caught a glimpse of his dark pupils, slightly moving to meet yours. Imploring you without words to act out of his best interest.

Akira Kurusu has always been a witty man, but there is no way there's no anger beneath that mask.

"Are you alright, Sholmes?" Oz asked.

For whatever reason, Akira persuaded Amy to call you both Arsene Lupin and Herlock Sholmes. The former was likely a nod to his first persona's name. His explanation for the latter was something along the lines of "you strike me as the type who always wants to search for your truth."

You blinked.

Right. You're his version of Sherlock Holmes.

Ha.

Even here, he gets to dictate everything about you.

"... Yes, Your Highness, to what do I owe the pleasure?" you said. The blonde girl smiled and tilted her head up pompously. 

"What other brew could I possibly order but the darkest taste that leaves any normal mortal to shrivel in imagination?" Amy shrugged, her eyebrow raised as though everyone knew what she babbled on with commendable sass. Her aviator companion thankfully cleared the air— albeit a little too blunt.

"Mein Fräulein desires a cinnamon ginger affogato with more sugar than last time, please. Two spoons for the poor Mein Fräulein."

"O-Oz!?!"

It's easily one of the least bitter cups on the menu. It consists of vanilla gelato, a tablespoon of espresso powder, cinnamon sticks, hazelnut liqueur, and bits of dried sunsettia. I can't say what would make anyone fear such a thing except for those with complications. Someone else shared the same sentiment.

You and Akira laughed in unison.

Your eyes widened in astonishment. That was in sync. You immediately looked away as Akira busied himself with Amy's order. It was awkward knowing that even with your efforts to cut things off, there was still some vague commonality between you two.

"... Say, your Highness?" Akira smiled softly. "Would it be alright for me to probe some of your most revered royal musings?"

...

...

... What is his play this time?

"You have my ears, dear subject."

"Suppose there is a princess who is facing an uphill battle. Furthermore, her valiant knight aspires to rescue her. However, the princess, for unknown reasons, declines his assistance. Is that..." He shut his eyes, laughing that strained chuckle once more. "... equittable?"

"Oh, most grievous indeed! A knight, who is obligated by the code of chivalry, shall always respond to the plea of his princess when she is in peril. His solemn obligation is to protect her honor and safeguard her from any danger!"

Akira looked at you.

His eyes were cold.

"But what if the princess doesn't want to be saved? What if she believes she can handle the situation herself, or maybe she thinks having assistance would make her weak?"

"Ah, but thou dost speak in riddles!" Amy scoffed, unamused. "A princess may exhibit abundant power and courage, yet it is the responsibility of her faithful knight to guarantee her safety, especially when she questions her own necessity. For what good is a knight's valor if not to serve and protect his liege?"

"Would you say her actions essentially strip him of his purpose?"

"Why, of course!" Amy replied with full conviction. "One would not require Oz if he lacks such a necessary trait! It is the basis of our trust– our relationship! A true knight's honor lies not in the glory of battle, but in his unwavering commitment to his princess, even in the face of her refusal."

You sucked in a deep breath.

Akira, you—!

"Speak frankly. Do these inquiries pertain to me?" Amy glared at him. Akira shook his head immediately, umping up his flamboyant voice inflections.

No.

It's about you.

It's always about you when it comes to him.

"Of course not!" Akira feigned worry. "It was for a novel I'm writing— to honor one's love."

… To honor one's "love".

Love? You froze. He calls this relationship love? It hadn't been that for the past few months! Love is meant to be like coming home to a comforting home— not a cold palace with your unfeeling statue at the heart of it all.  

You were hoping that your life would be dictated by what you want it to mean this time around. You hope to create your own purpose, your own identity. You hope to reject his titles—being his partner and his "Sholmes." 

But mostly, you sincerely hoped his words were untrue and did not allude to something as sinister and self-destructive as his love.

Besides, you already have a lover waiting for you to leave this mess behind.

You and he already have everything planned out. A rented flat, food, work— everything is set. The only box to tick off was leaving itself, and then you'll be in your lover's arms.

But you swore.

You swore you just saw him smirk.

"(Y/n), could you please lend me a hand? Can you pass the cinnamon sticks from the cupboard?"

Starting your day by serving Amy leads to serving a hundred more. You can't just stand up and leave whenever someone asks for your service. It's impossible to make the shortest comment about how you no longer work for LeBlanc, even more so when people beg for book recommendations. Being friendly is part of who you are. It can't be helped.

What made matters worse was that people were ordering seconds. Apparently, Akira must've adjusted all the recipes on the menu because whatever was added to those cups made it all the more divine. You knew his skills were perfection, but to think he could even exceed that...

In the end, despite multiple delays, Akira still got you right where he wanted you.

"Thank you. Please come again!" He escorted the final customer outside and flipped the closing sign himself.

Now, it was just the two of you left.

"... You must be tired." You offered, hoping he wouldn't catch on. "It's been a long day, why don't you take a rest—"

"Nice try." 

Well, it was worth a shot.

You stiffly waited for him to say something. Anything. But instead, he took a kettle off the icebox and heated the stove with his vision. 

"Back to my story, do you remember where we left off?"

The wisest thing to have down was biting your tongue or pretending not to know what he was talking about. Unfortunately, your answer was immediate.

"Something about how you got your vision?"

"Ah, yes, that." Akira laughed. "Say, I told you about how I used to be the leader of the Phantom Thieves when I was in High School, right?"

While waiting, Akira tapped his fingers against the table but stopped when he realized you were becoming distracted. Snapping out of it, you cleared your throat.

"You were stealing hearts in the Metaverse, yes, I recall..." You mumbled. Due to the sudden need to speak, you ended up unwittingly playing by his script again. "You manifested a Persona and used that to reform the heart of rotten adults."

You flinched slightly when his tea was starting to release thin smokes. It smelled too much like rust. Maybe he exhausted it too much today. The customers you had were double the amount. You had to commend his willpower for still managing exceed his usual sleep schedule.

"Isn't the kettle burning?"

"Trust me, it's not," he answered nonchalantly. "I remember when I told my story to you, you were mostly understanding of our actions. You didn't judge us. Rather, you told me that humanity is selfish and destructive."

"But back to how I got my vision," he finally turned the stove off. "I genuinely thought my most distinct trait was my appreciation for Freedom."

"Yet you got a pyro vision." You joked lightly.

He didn't laugh. Instead, he nodded.

"Strange, isn't it?" Akira tilted his head to look at you for a bit, before back at the hot cup he was pouring. It's the same liquid he's been adding the entire day. This must be the last of those ten pints. "Here, try it."

You slowly took it. It's still a bit too warm, so you continued talking.

"I thought about it, too. If we go by theories, it will make more sense if Barbatos blessed me instead. But with you here..." Akira laughed. "Pyro is definitely my element. I'm seeing a pattern with vision-wielders like me. Based on what I've seen so far, pyro users are often the most passionate. And passion can put a leash on freedom when need be."

You took a sip.

He put an elbow on the table and propped his chin on his palm.

"How is it?"

"It's... tasteless?" You blinked. 

You thought he must've added something grand to the cups today. Was it all just one big placebo effect?

"Makes it no different than regular water, huh?"

"Well, yeah, I guess?"

"I've actually been disposing of this the entire day, that's why the coffees looked darker. Diluting the original sample is hard work but worth it. Enough as a substitute for normal water in case we run out. Who knew you could empty 10 pints so quickly in a day..." 

"You. In case you run out." You sighed, finally addressing it. "Akira, I'm no longer your partner."

"So is he."

You both paused.

He returned the kettle to the ice box before unmasking its contents.

"You were near-fatally wounded once before. You tasted it in your mouth when I defended you from that Lawachurl-

"You should know by now that blood isn't supposed to be tasteless."

Riley H. Goodheart can now message Akira Kurusu

[sebbyisland]

This is a weird question but you have good vibes so do you know any good shoujos for beginners? If you dont then just delete this lol

OH this is the best question i have ever received! Thank you! I hope this can be a helpful resource for you or anyone else interested in getting into shojo!!!

I’m gonna define “Good Beginner Shojo” as stories with an interesting premise, strong narrative(? this is VERY subjective sorry?), and also lacks some of the more squicky/uncomfortable tropes: predatory romantic relationships, borderline sexual assault as flirting, or incest**. This list is split between short and long series. I’ll also try to keep the genres diverse! These are all stories I’ve personally read/watched and are popular enough that they’ve been officially translated in different languages.

Good Shojo for Beginners, Short Term Investment

Princess Tutu: A dark fairy-tale-esque anime about a young girl who studies ballet in the day and fights demons at night using ballet + emotional intelligence. The deeper plot is that the entire cast are treated like puppets by a grand and elusive storymaster, and they all must struggle to escape being doomed by the narrative. There’s a lot of references to Swan Lake, the girl keeps getting turned into a duck, many emotions are felt. Complete, one anime season.

From Me to You: shy young girl is a social outcast due to misunderstandings that blew out of proportion. She receives an olive branch from a boy in her class and this gives her the confidence to start making friends and support herself!! The aforementioned boy is also her love interest and is endearingly too flustered to make a move. high school drama ensues. Two anime seasons, manga complete ~120 chapters.

Magic Knight Rayearth: three girls get transported to a fantasy world and have to learn to work together in giant magic mecha suits order to rescue a trapped princess + save the world. They make friends along the way as they try to fight monsters. One anime season, manga complete ~30 chapters.

Kase-san: sapphic high school romance with a jock girl and gardener girl who plants flowers near her practice field… they are both kinda shy and build up confidence as their bond gets deeper. it’s just 100% fluff. anime OVA and complete manga, ~15 chapters, there's also a sequel-series though

Library Wars: what it says on the tin. militant librarians fight the government to stop book censorship. the story follows a soldier in training: a reckless young woman who dreams of meeting the "prince" who inspired her to take up arms to protect books. this is more of an action-comedy than a political drama, so don't expect too much from the plot, but it's fun to watch our failgirl get put into situations. one anime season, 73 chapter manga, live action movie. you'll be okay just watching the anime but obvi the manga expands more on the characters + world building.

Orange: high school girl receives letters from her future self that tell her that a boy from her friend group is planning on committing suicide. She works with her friends to prevent this from happening, but things are definitely more complicated than they seem. An emotional drama, discussion of mental health including depression and suicidal thoughts. It’s a really heartfelt series. One anime season, ~38 chapter manga. (originally published in a shoujo magazine, then switched to seinen probably for marketing reasons.*)

In the Clear Moonlit Dusk: Masculine studious girl feels distant from her classmates who idolize her as a “prince,” but then she catches the attention of the local sparkly bad boy “prince.” An innocent, fluffy high school romance about a prince and her prince. SO many sparkly anime eyes, if that's you're thing. It’s a simple plot, but I enjoy the execution a lot. Ongoing, currently ~27 chapters

Tokyo Mew Mew: Captain Planet but magical girl. group of teen girls get accidentally infused with the DNA of endangered animal species + magic and transform into a hero squad to fight aliens trying to destroy earth's resources! Their cover for their secret headquarters is a maid café, where they all work part time. Manga complete ~30 chapters, anime adaption complete + one season of anime reboot.

Good Shojo for Beginners, Long Term Investment

Yona of the Dawn: historic fantasy setting, coming of age for a naive young princess who grows into a capable leader by abandoning her sheltered life within palace walls for…plot reasons (major spoiler in 1st chapter LOL). there’s a slow but thorough exploration of the political issues in her kingdom, i would say the world-building is an unexpected strength of the story. She’s supported by her hot magical anime boy harem, but the story emphasizes found family dynamics over the romcom. there’s still a primary love interest established early on, it’s just VERY slow burn. one anime season, manga ongoing 300+ chapters

Kageki Shojo!!: Follow the adventures of an all-girls vocational school to train to become members of the historic Kouka all-girls musical theater troupe, where women play roles for all genders. The protagonist is a girl who grew up watching Kouka performances and never lost her sense of childlike wonder. Theater doesn’t come naturally for her, but she’s also very talented. Fun cast, lightly discusses social issues as they come up with sincerity and care. Very reminiscent of 80s shojo. One anime season, Ongoing manga 90+ chapters

My Love Mix-Up! what if there was an ACTUAL high school love triangle. boy likes girl who likes a different boy, but that boy is interested in the aforementioned boy. what if this was all a misunderstanding and actually boy and girl like the same boy. what if that was also a misunderstanding. have you ever been a dumbass high school student trying your best. protagonist is bi king. 120~ chapters, no anime, but a live action show.

Ouran High School Host Club: ah yes a classic romcom. girl gets a scholarship to an elite high school and accidentally falls into debt on her first day to the school host club (boys who professionally flirt with girls during lunch). To pay off her debt, she pretends to be a guy at school so she can work as a host. The comedy is a blend of making fun of shojo tropes and the disaster personalities that make up the supporting cast. it's funnier the more shojo you have read/watched before this one. one anime season, 200+ chapters, complete

BL Metamorphosis: elderly widow accidentally reads a BL manga and gets invested, she bonds with a high school girl who works at the bookstore about it. Very cute parallels between her late husband and the fictional love story. Depicts fandom culture without normalizing the creepy and invasive BL fan behavior. Reminds me a lot of spending time with my grandma, which makes me want to cry.~90 chapters.

Sailor Moon: I know i know everyone is going to tell you this but it's actually a classic for a reason. (Sapphic!!!) magical girls traveling across space and time? Fighting evil with the power of friendship and love? Cute character designs? It's a good time. Protagonist is a total brat (normal 14yr old!!!!) AND a good hero. I'm putting this last because I wanted the other stories to have a chance, but it's honestly so good like please. There technically an inappropriate age gap relationship but it's like the disney movie Tangled where you don't realize it until you literally look up their ages. 150+ chapters, complete.

**When I first read shojo, I was a very young child, basically the target audience, but there are things I read as a child that would make me feel a bit disgusted to read now. Knowing this, I want people who are new to shojo to make informed decisions. There are problematic tropes present in MANY well loved stories--and they are well-loved for a reason!!! These complexities are part of reading and enjoying fiction. I've excluded some of my all-time favorite stories from my childhood thanks to the criteria I set as good "beginner" shojo--but I also don't want to contribute to a world that divides stories as "problematic" and "unproblematic" as if such a binary exists. Ultimately, this list is just based on my PERSONAL taste, what I deem more comfortable to read than other stories, so I can't guarantee that you'll have the same experience. I can't even promise I would have the same experience re-reading some of these, since the stuff that made me comfortable/uncomfortable in the past has changed in the present. It's all very subjective. That's why I'm intentionally specific about the tropes I've excluded. Note that this doesn't mean the stories listed are not littered with their own flaws. I hope this disclaimer didn't seem too excessive, haha.

[thebibliosphere]

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm one of those people who priates books. But only because I've bought so many books that disappointed me! I need to flip through a bit of it before buying.

Sometimes, if the author has kofi or patreon or something, I like to just give them the full price of the book. That way they get it all. But I also know that this isn't the perfect answer because it messes with stats and actual readership and therefore advertising and the platform they are selling on promoting it....

It's complicated. Maybe I should buy the book normally and tip the author what the publishers/printers/distributors take? But that can get really pricey fast. Ugh.

Books are often a luxury when you have no money. I’m very familiar with that. I've saved up for several months sometimes because I wanted a $5.99 ebook and didn't want to steal from the author. That’s just what being poor is. Wanting something doesn't entitle me to it.

That said, most books these days have a reading sample on purchasing sites so you can see if you like the style. Most sites also offer refunds, at least on digital books, before you reach a certain point. (please be sparing with refunds if you can. The refund is taken from the author/publisher, not Amazon. Same with audible. My audible funds are often close to zero or negative because people just return and reuse their monthly credit.)

You can also check and see if the books are available at your library, and if not, request them. Honestly, library sales are so, so, so good for authors. Libraries pay higher lending license rates to authors, and also, depending on the country, every time someone checks out my book via Libby or the local equivalent, I get a little tiny amount of money (we’re talking literal pennies, but it can add up), and it increases the library’s likelihood of re-purchasing the library lending license the following year.

You can alsp sign up to be an ARC (advanced reader copy) reader through places like NetGalley or by checking if the author offers ARCs as well. In a world of algorithms, books live and die by reviews. Some of us are quite happy to give out ARCs for new and upcoming titles.

Failing that and you have absolutely no other option... Yeah. Ko-fi or whatever is an option. Even if I wish they didn't do it because it fucks my sales metrics, I still appreciate when I get a little ding on ko-fi for the exact amount of the book. It's always telling. I even sometimes get little anon messages going “sorry for pirating your book it was really good.”

Like thank you. Please buy the next one properly, lol.

[idle-daydreams]

The Gilded Cage

Tw: Yandere themes, stalking, obsession, mentions of murder, horror

[A.N: I feel like I made Poe mildly OC in this? Idk, the original Poe said that a woman's death was the most poetic topic in the world; I wanted to channel a bit of that... uniqueness into this Poe]

Poe had never thought he would fall in love. Love was for other people; it had never quite seemed the right genre for him. 

But then he'd met you. Perusing the books in the mystery section in the local library, with an intent look on your face that had enraptured him. His heart had skipped a beat; he’d let out a strangled yelp that drew your attention. He would have melted into the shadows, too nervous to speak, but you’d spoken to him first, asking him about an obscure volume by Daphne du Maurier. And he had fallen hard.

For days, he’d thought about you. Dreamed of you in various scenarios, placing you as characters in his novels. Sometimes you’d be a rich heiress, other times a penniless orphan. Sometimes you’d be the detective, other times, the victim, lying serenely on a pale bed, eyes closed as though asleep. The words flowed from his pen, blossoming flowery descriptions of the memory etched into his mind - your melancholic beauty, your subdued grace, the softness of your voice, the kindness of your demeanour.

But then, his thoughts had started to wander. Who were you, really? You weren’t a figment of his imagination, a phantom conjured up in his mind. You were a real person, with a real name and a real life. What was your job? What did you like to do in your spare time? Did you think of Poe, did you even remember him? Or did you have a lover who occupied your thoughts?

The thought refused to leave his mind. He had to know you, know all about you, so that he could immortalize you in his writing. What was the point of a writer, except to exalt his muse upon the highest pedestal possible? That was only what Poe was doing... or so he justified it to himself.

He began to visit the library daily, lingering around all day in the hopes of catching sight of you. After a week, his efforts were rewarded: you came back to return the book you’d borrowed.

Poe watched from behind a shelf as you lingered through the aisle, tracing your fingers across the books’ spines. How delicate your fingers were, how soft your touch! How lucky were those pages which had the good fortune of being caressed by you! And you had good taste - the books you picked were by solid mystery writers with a firm grasp on their craft.

He followed you from the library to your home, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he was sure you could hear it from the distance. You lived in a small apartment building not far from the library itself. Poe did not dare follow you inside, but watched as the lights on the topmost floor went on, your silhouette dancing across the curtains. Excitement flushed across his skin as he imagined himself with you, sequestered from the world in your cozy little apartment.

From there it was all too easy to find out everything else about you. Your name, age, phone number, your place of work. You didn’t have much social media, a fact that both pleased and annoyed him, because while it meant that you were more likely to be a wallflower, it also meant fewer pictures for him to gaze upon. He resorted to secretly taking pictures of you while you were out about your day. You were a homebody with few friends; you liked animals and mystery books. You would visit a cafe two streets from your home every Friday evening and order the same drink; you had a few chosen places for take-out, your favourite items on each menu memorized by Poe.

But his obsession refused to abate. These were just things about you; they were not who you were. You remained as ethereal, as untouchable as you had the first day he’d seen you. He would gaze feverishly, obsessively at the pictures of you, the ones he’d save on his phone,  or printed out and pinned to the walls of his home. Taking in the light in your eyes, the pout of your lips, the flush in your cheeks, wondering what thoughts lay behind them, what mystery and wonderment. His writings began to annoy him. What was the point of the caricatures he’d wrought on the pages, mere shadows in the brilliance of your image? He needed you.

“Poe,” Ranpo stopped by his house one day. “Poe, you should stop.”

Poe blinked uncomprehendingly at his friend. “What do you mean?” he said.

“I know that you’re in love. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Rage flared in Poe’s heart. For a minute he was tempted to strike Ranpo for daring to dash his hopes. But then the sensibility of his friend’s words struck him. Ranpo was right; he was on the path of doing something foolish. He’d neglected to approach you, to make his feelings for you clear, thereby leaving your heart wide open for another. Just because you weren’t a social butterfly didn’t mean you didn’t want to be in a relationship. That you weren’t looking for someone to share your life with.

That person could well be Poe.

The thought frightened and excited him. Sure, he had imagined being with you countless times; he’d filled entire notebooks with every detail of your imaginary lives together. But at the same time, the thought of approaching you filled him with dread. Poe was socially awkward in the best of circumstances, and could barely strike up a conversation with ordinary people. Talking to you? Getting you to fall in love with him? The idea was ridiculous, laughable! Why would you even look at him, a shy, graceless little mouse of a man? Karl was more charming and suave than Poe.

But if he didn’t make a move soon, you would be someone else’s. There was already a co-worker of yours that he felt was getting too close, laughing and talking to you as you made your way to your car every day after work. Poe seethed silently as he observed the two of you, wishing death and destruction upon the man even as he begged you to turn away, to look at Poe instead. Couldn’t you feel him? Couldn’t you feel his love, his yearning, even from the distance? Why couldn’t you laugh and smile at him, instead of wasting your time on some brainless twat that didn’t deserve even the ground you walked on?

Poe drew himself up with a deep breath. As usual, Ranpo was right. If Poe continued on the way he was doing right now, he would end up regretting it. He had to do something, even if it was... unconventional.

-------------------------------------------------

It had been a long day. You exhaled as reached your landing, eager to be home. That was when the small parcel sitting by your front door caught your eye.

You frowned as you picked it up. It was addressed to you, your name and address typewritten neatly on the side, though there was no postmark. Through the packaging, it felt like a book - a slim one, with a hard cover. Your frown deepened. You didn’t remember ordering any books recently.

Turning it over in your hands, you entered your apartment. In your preoccupation, you didn’t notice the faint glint from the roof of the building on the other side of the street, a glint that quickly disappeared and could have been attributed to the gleam of the setting sun. Your eyes were fixed upon the parcel as you unwrapped it, trying to remember if it was a late delivery or a mistaken one. A faint warning popped into your mind of something more sinister was pushed aside by a sense of surprise as the object inside finally came into view.

It was a book. Its cover was simple, a subdued navy blue with the title inlaid in gold. “ ‘The Gilded Cage’,” you read out, running your fingers over the words.

There was nothing else. No author, no name of the printing press, no printing date. You looked at the back cover (blank), then again at the front, a vague uneasiness creeping into your mind. Wondering if it was a very new release, you opened the book to the first page, the first chapter, the first few words:

This is all for you, my love.

There was a brilliant flash of golden light.

You screamed. The book fell from your nerveless fingers as you backed away, blinded for an instant. As the light faded, you realized with a start that you were no longer in your apartment.

Instead, you stood in a large, colonial style drawing-room. It was night, and the crescent moon was visible through the massive bay windows at the far end of the room.  Cream-coloured sofas stood around a mahogany coffee-table, a beautifully woven carpet covering the polished hardwood floor. The embers of a dying fire lay in the fire-place, an ormolu clock ticking away on the mantelpiece above. 

“Er, hello?” you squeaked into the silence. “What happened? What’s going on?”

You looked around, heart pounding. You didn’t recognize this place, nor could you explain the loss of time. The only explanation that made sense was that you’d slipped and hit your head, and were currently experiencing a concussion.

But a concussion didn’t explain just how real everything felt. The chill in the air, the red-gold gleam of the embers, the faint rustle of the trees outside moving in the breeze. You pinched yourself hard, wincing at the pain.

That was when the book caught your eye. The one which you hadn’t ordered, yet had been sitting oh-so-innocently outside your apartment. It lay open at your feet, and the pages inside were clearly empty. With trembling hands you picked it up. The cover was now blank.

An awful apprehension began to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

“Hello?” You tried again, looking around. “Is anyone there?”

Was it just your imagination, or was there a faint voice? You looked around, noticing the open door behind you for the first time. The space beyond lay dark, a gaping maw that gave no hint of what lay beyond. Fighting the scream that crawled up your throat, you backed away towards the windows.

But as you drew closer, you realized that this offered little protection. For the house appeared to stand in them middle of nowhere, the trees the only shield between it and the vast nothingness of the outside.

A whimper escaped your lips. You retreated instead to the fireplace, eyes darting all around in an attempt to find an escape. It had to be a nightmare, some kind of hallucination. Your gaze was drawn to the book yet again. It had to be the source of the problem. Someone had to have put some poison inside, some kind of a hallucinogenic powder that worked by being absorbed through the skin. You opened it again - and that was when the writing caught your eye. It was on the very first page, a few lines in a spidery scrawl.

‘This is all for you, my love,’ the writing said. ‘I have been waiting for you for so long, I simply couldn’t wait any more. I know that you must be frightened, but rest assured that this is only a temporary measure while I prepare our new home.’

You frowned. That was... unexpected.

‘I do so wish that things had been different,’ the writing continued. ‘But I find myself quite tongue-tied in your presence. At the moment I can only sing odes to your beauty in my heart, and wax eloquent about your grace and loveliness only in the written word. But I promise you, I love you. I love you with all my heart and soul.

‘But driven as I am by my own passions, I am also bound by the limits of my ability, and so I must tell you this: there are several murderers loose in the world that you currently inhabit. You are safe from them so long as you stay in this house. Leave, and you would be at their mercy (as they not only outnumber you, but are also exceptional in cruelty and cunning).’

Dread curdled in your stomach. An ability. You had heard of them, of course, the supernatural powers that some people were born with. Ability-users were said to be dangerous, more so because one could never tell them apart from ordinary people. You’d certainly never met one in your life.

And yet, unless there had been a colossal mix-up, one such user was professing his love for you.

There was a soft thud. Your eyes darted once again to the windows. Was it your imagination, or was there a pair of eyes faintly visible in the darkness? A shudder passed through your frame, and you quickly turned back to the book.

‘But you must understand, my dear, that I do not wish to hurt you. I could never live with myself if something were to happen to you, which is why you must do as I tell you. You must love me. I promise you, I will make you happy. I will give you what you want, make every dream of yours come true, be whatever you want me to be - but you must love me. Please. I cannot live without you. Your presence haunts my dreams and my waking hours; scarcely a minute passes that I can keep myself of thinking of you. Your name graces my lips as though it were a prayer, a mantra chanted by a fanatic at the altar of your being. Please, please, I am begging you, love me. If you will not, I will have no choice but to keep you trapped in this book. Not because I desire your distress (quite the opposite), but because as long as you are in there, I can make things so that you are ultimately safe. I can make it so that you will never leave me. For I cannot bear to have you taken from me. I will not have you taken from me. Please, my love, you must understand, no one will love you as much as I. So please, learn to love me.

‘Or else you will stay in this cage forever.’

[just-a-creep-babe]

Graveyard Shift - Part 4

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Commissioned once more by anonymous!! Tysm & I hope you enjoy!!! 🫶💗💝💓✨

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Things between (y/n) and the masked man change after that incident at work

When he returns to the hospital almost a full week later, asking for more supplies, the girl’s less hesitant to get him what he needs

It’s the least she can do after he saved her

She tries not to ask too many questions, despite her burning curiosity, because she knows he won’t give a straight answer anyway

He’s going to keep being all mysterious, keep toying with her, and it’s just going to frustrate her even further

So instead, she tries to get through the interaction as quickly and painlessly as possible

There’s almost this sort of formal professionalism between the two as they interact

And when he leaves her unscathed yet again, she starts wondering what his real intentions truly are

Over the next few weeks, it becomes a sort of semi-regular occurrence for him to show up

She brings him what he asks for, no questions asked, and the two inevitably begin growing more comfortable with one another

Ultimately, she realizes it’s probably better for her peace of mind to not know what he’s doing with all of those supplies, anyways

The more she sees him, the more she interacts with him, the more it becomes glaringly obvious that he’s definitely not human

And while part of her refused to believe it at first, it becomes so undeniable that she’s left with no other choice but to accept it

There’s simply no way a mere human would’ve been able to catch her from that fall, no way a human would be able to dedicate so much time to watching her like he does, and absolutely no way a human could have such uncanny grace and balance despite an obvious lack of eyes

But even as it dawns on her that she’s, for whatever reason, acquired an inhuman stalker, there’s just something almost… calming about his presence

It’s like he wanted to scare her at first, like he was testing her with those gifts and letters, and now that she’s passed his tests, he’s become more accepting of her

Like he’s come to view her as an equal instead of just some toy for his amusement

Or, at least, that’s about the best guess she can currently hazard

Either way, her fear and uncertainty gradually morph into something different

Even when she feels him peering at her from his hiding spots, she no longer feels afraid

If anything, his unspoken presence almost becomes a strangely welcomed familiarity

Eventually, she becomes practically desperate to learn more about him

She figures that the more information she has on him, the better, which leads her to a trip down to the local library

She checks out a decently sized stack of books dealing with the supernatural, stops by a cafe to grab herself a coffee and some fresh pastries, and then heads back home

It’s a dreary day, with heavy black clouds rolling in, and she’s thankful she isn’t working tonight; commuting in a rainstorm is never a fun time

As soon as she gets home, she splays out the books alongside her scientific texts, and although seeing them side-by-side creates a jarring contradiction, it seems there’s more to the world than modern science can explain, after all

While her coffee is still warm, she begins pouring through the well-aged papers

Skimming through most of them, she tries to find anything on masked stalkers, black tar oozing from eyes, and any known causes of superhuman strength and reflexes

But even after a few hours of research, her findings are, unfortunately, mostly inconclusive

The closest she gets is something about cult sacrifices and rituals, but the books seem to primarily dismiss those kinds of notions

With a sigh, she figures it might just be hopeless

When she finally looks up from the papers, she realizes it’s dark outside, and rain is pelting loudly against the windows

Her thoughts escape briefly to her stalker; she wonders where he is and what he’s doing right now

When suddenly, thinking of the devil, a flash of lightning strikes, illuminating the streets for a brief millisecond, but it’s more than enough time for her to see him

His silhouette is all too familiar—tall and dark, with that distinct azure blue mask staring directly at her

He’s standing beneath a tree, like he’s trying to avoid the storm, but there’s no way he’s not getting soaked out there

(Y/n) bites her lip, chewing it between teeth

It’s objectively ridiculous to be worried about your stalker, and she knows that

But she just can’t help feeling bad for him

And really, this could be the perfect opportunity to find out more about him

Why sift through musty old books when she could just ask him directly?

And surely, the chances of him answering honestly must be higher if she does him a favor by letting him in like this

Or, at least, that’s what she tells herself

But, truth be told, she’s always been too soft, too considerate of other people

No matter who someone was or what they might’ve done, she’s always been the type to help them out

It’s the main reason why she pushed herself through all those grueling years in med school, why she ended up with her career in the first place

She’s always wanted to help people—it’s who she fundamentally is as a person; she couldn’t help it in the past, and she sure as hell can’t help it now

Which is why, even now, even if anyone in their right state of mind would absolutely not consider doing what she’s about to do, she still stands, makes her way to the door, and opens it

Rain immediately infiltrates the entrance, pattering against the first few inches of the wooden floor, and (y/n) has to step back to avoid getting wet

She hugs her arms around herself, squinting into the darkness in search of the familiar figure

She doesn’t see him through the storm, but there’s absolutely no doubt in her mind that he’s still out there

She waits a few minutes for lightning to strike again, but when it never comes, she turns around

She’s about to close the door behind her, but she decides against it as an idea comes to mind

Facing away from the door, she waits patiently, mentally counting back from 100

And before she even reaches 50, just like she thought, she suddenly feels him behind her

She should be scared

She most certainly shouldn’t have that small smile of victory on her face

When she hears the distinct click of her front door closing, and when the sound of the storm is muffled through the door once more, only then does she finally turn around

She’d think he wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating when he’s soaked, but she’d be wrong

The way his clothes cling to him only serves to further define his muscular build

She knew he was strong, she didn’t realize he was that strong

Water beads at the dark strands of his hair, framing his deep blue mask while his hoodie, darkened by the water, sticks to his toned body

A flash of lightning suddenly illuminates him from behind, and it somehow makes him look even taller and more intimidating than ever

She’s speechless

He’s attractive

The thought slips up before she can stop it

She clears her throat, trying to push the thought down, and in return, the man tilts his head to the side quizzically

Her face flushes, and she mentally curses herself out for getting so flustered so easily

A brief beat of silence fills the room as the implications of her actions dawn on her

But then, realizing she’s essentially gone past the point of no return, she speaks

“I… Do you want some tea?”

The offer comes out naturally, like second nature, as if she’s hosting an acquaintance and not some inhuman stranger

“…”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and (y/n) wonders if he’s also surprised by her behavior

But then he nods, and without hesitation, the girl turns and leaves to make her way to the kitchen

Standing there, alone in her entrance, dripping wet, Jack isn’t entirely sure what to do with himself

It’s not like he hasn’t been here before, but it’s definitely the first time he’s been here with her knowing and consenting

He feels awkward and out of place, but at the same time, he’s extremely curious as to what she might be planning

He knew there was something different about her—few people would’ve gone and done something like this

He hears her shuffling in the kitchen, opening the pantry and moving things around, and he wonders how she could be so trusting of him after everything he’s done

While she’s preparing the tea, he takes the opportunity to glance at the books she’d been buried in for most of the evening

Flipping the cover over to read the title brings a sharp smile to his face, and he chuckles to himself

Cute, she’s been trying to research him

He flips it back, returning to the page she was on, and reads through one of the paragraphs

It mentions something about demons, but the author was so glaringly making things up that it has Jack huffing

Who would even publish pseudo-garbage like this?

(Y/n) returns a few minutes later, holding a freshly brewed cup of tea and a plate of pastries he assumes were part of the ones she bought earlier today

“You know, it’ll probably be much more comfortable on the couch,” she suggests, nodding her head in the direction of the living room

He doesn’t say anything in response, too busy absorbing as many details of her face as he possibly can in a short amount of time

Because as much as he spends a lot of time watching her, seeing her up close remains a rarity

He usually only gets to see her like this when she’s sleeping, or for a brief few minutes at a time when he’s asking for supplies

As if sensing his eyeless gaze peering into her, she stiffens slightly, and then she shakes her head, as if to brush away a thought, and moves to the living room

He follows behind, sitting next to her on the couch, trying to leave a normal amount of space between the two despite his urge to get closer

And then he can’t help but wince as he’s suddenly acutely aware of how wet the cushions are getting beneath him

She offers him the tea, and he takes it between his hands, letting it warm him up from the storm

Being part demon comes with its perks, and having a resistance to temperatures is one of them, but it still doesn’t mean he’s entirely immune to discomfort

“…Thank you,” he eventually says

A brief look of surprise flashes over her face as he thanks her, but then she smiles

God, her smile’s really pretty, he thinks

“Listen…” she hesitates, and the sound of her voice snaps him out of a trance he didn’t even realize he’d fallen into

How long has he been staring at her lips?

“I… I really don’t know what your deal is,” she admits, “but I know… as crazy as it sounds, I know you’re not… completely human”

Again, he finds himself grinning beneath his mask

She’s been thinking about it—she’s been thinking about him

“And I… I guess I just figured that, you know… if you’re going to keep asking things from me, I, at the very least, want to know more about you. So that things are a bit more even, right?”

Jack takes a second to consider her words

Truth be told—sure, the extra supplies are nice to have as backups—but he doesn’t really need them

He’s only been using them as an excuse to see her more often, and now it seems like he’s finally getting somewhere with her

“What do you wanna know?”

It almost surprises (y/n) how quickly he agrees to opening up

She almost doesn’t know what to start with; she’d been so focused on the different reasons he should agree that she neglected to think of her first question

She decides on just going with the most obvious one

“What’s your name?”

“…Jack,” he answers evenly

Jack?

It, admittedly, somehow isn’t what she was expecting

Jack sounds so unassuming, so… normal

She mumbles his name, repeating it to herself, when she’s suddenly distracted as he pulls up his mask to take a sip of the tea

His jawline is straight-up perfection

An angular bone structure gives way to pretty lips, which carry a sharp-fanged smirk as he brings the rim to his mouth and drinks down the bitter liquid

His Adam’s apple bobs as he does so, and there’s something so effortlessly powerful about him that she’s once again rendered speechless

Jack replaces his mask over his mouth once he’s done

He likes the way his name sounds on her tongue, he decides, he should get her to say it more often

“If we’re asking questions,” he says, “it’s only fair I get a turn as well”

She snorts, the sound is involuntary

“…And what could you possibly have to ask that you wouldn’t already know?”

He snickers at the comment

She’s ballsy—he likes it

“I don’t know everything about you, (y/n),” he rumbles, and he savors the way she shifts in place at the sound of her name coming from his lips, “and your curiosity is mutual”

She pauses again, but then with a nod, she seems to agree

“Alright then, go ahead. Ask away”

For the remainder of the evening, they take turns asking their respective questions

(Y/n) generally answers openly and honestly, only hesitating when she thinks the answer might jeopardize her loved ones’ safety

Jack, on the other hand, is coy and sly about most of his answers, but the bare minimum information he provides seems enough to slake some of her curiosities

Talking to one another comes naturally

It’s easy, simple, and the flow of conversation is pleasantly interesting

Under any other circumstance, Jack knows they would’ve been good friends

He knows she’s still wary of him, rightfully so, and as much as he enjoys her fear, he can’t deny enjoying her friendship, either

He’s going to play nice from now on, he mentally promises himself

When she offers him a pastry, he doesn’t have it in him to refuse

Human food is, by far, his favorite—the texture feels like ash between his teeth, and the taste is bland at best—but he forces himself to swallow it down in a show of good faith

He stays longer than he’d expected, and by the time he realizes he should leave to let her sleep, the storm has died down, turning to a fine mist hanging in the night air

There’s a broad grin on his lips as he leaves for a hunt

Something tells him that won’t be the only time she lets him in

[2kmps]

IN A SLEEPY TOWN

headless horseman x reader masterlist | ao3

story synopsis; “the horseman who rides atop his alabaster steed, cloaked in crimson without a head.”

in the sleepy town of Moorwick, you are drawn into the legend of the horseman when you learn it is associated with your father’s disappearance twenty years ago. when the local ghost story turns to be anything but that, and a bargain goes awry, you delve into moorwick’s dark history with hopes of saving more than just yourself.

story warnings; graphic descriptions of gore & violence, stalking, manipulation, murder, brief mention of child murder, mc gets injured quite often, brief mentions of suicide, frightening & grotesque imagery, horror, manhandling bc the horseman is a tank, elements of mystery, very detail + prose heavy, implied parental negligence, mental illness is discussed at length in certain chapters. originally posted 11/2019.

thank you, @ceruleansol for proofreading 💙

chapter synopsis & links

chapter one; you travel to the sleepy town of moorwick in search of your missing father. with little more than some luggage and your car, you're immediately steeped in the mysterious ways of the residents and of their local boogeyman— the headless horseman.

chapter two; you spend a better portion of your day in the archives of the moorwick public library researching the phenomena surrounding the town. by nightfall, you wander into the haunted forest to confront these myths yourself

chapter three; with the town of moorwick abuzz for the parade, you make every effort to escape your pact with the horseman, only to be thwarted by suspicious circumstances. when you’re lured back to the atticus, your next encounter with the horseman is anything but pleasant

chapter four; some time has passed and you continue to return to the atticus, no closer to solving the mystery of the horseman’s head. after an encounter with the dead, along with something far worse, you were beginning to understand the horseman’s existence wasn’t so straightforward.

chapter five; you could no longer refute that your relationship with the horseman was more complex than you initially thought it to be. what did it mean? Just as you’re coming to terms with this, colson offers a gift that could change everything. and moorwick’s more prestigious residents let you know that there are eyes always watching.

chapter six; you are determined to get answers from the horseman regarding the whereabouts of your father. It goes horribly awry. to make matters worse, new information comes your way about the peculiarities of moorwick, making the search for the horseman’s head far more complex and there are some people determined to keep it that way.

chapter seven; following that bloody night in the forest with the horseman, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back. It’s only after a startling revelation from asta lang that you find the courage to return; albeit you find that the horseman isn’t your only encounter.

chapter eight; the mystery deepens as you confront the one person who may know more about colson’s intentions than anyone else: theodore sinclair. As the nature of your relationship to the horseman evolves, you’re left wondering what it all means.

chapter nine;

chapter ten;

chapter eleven;

this is a series repost from my deleted blog officiallytheduchess/cardeneiv. chapters 1-8 are not up-to-date with my current writing style, thus you are likely to see shifts in focus and storytelling as a result.

I do intend to revamp this series once officially completely and rebuild it from the ground up. as my skills as a writer have grown, so has potential for this story and the world within.

please reblog the individual chapters & the masterlist! reblogs are the only way that work gets shared around this platform and it's important to do so!

©️2kmps. all published work for this series belongs to me. you may not reproduce, translate, or publish it on any other platform without my explicit consent. fanworks are permitted with clear and obvious credit.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Ally: Thatch , Teacher of the Heath

A marvellous mage outstanding in their field

Every group of heroes needs a sage to clue them in about their place in the wider campaign world and to set them on the correct path. For those too far from the big cities and their ivory towers, there’s rumours of a strange figure who dwells in a nearby village, a tutor made of sticks and straw who instructs children their letters between farm chores, and has an uncanny ability to predict the seasons. This construct is named Thatch, and they have been blessed with a mind that is seemingly all knowing.

Hooks:

Thatch is first and foremost a teacher, and while they’re happy to dispense fun facts and tidbits of information to anyone who asks, the party may need to ready themselves for some lessons if they want REAL lore. Perhaps the scarecrow will drag them to a disused farmstead and match them with chores they are most unsuited for, questioning them endlessly on their ethos while exhaustion and failure wear them down. Perhaps Thatch will send them on some strange errand, quizzing them when they return about all the choices they made and the perspectives of those involved. 

Players Might encounter Thatch at the local county fair, confusing them atfirst for a decoration or costumed attendant. The patchwork teacher was minding a few children for the night but the youngsters seem to have snuck off on them. Tracking the youngsters down gives the party a great excuse to scout out all the fun distractions later in that evening ( or to get the topography when the festivities are ambushed).

Background: Onceupon a time there was a farmgirl who dreamed of being a wizard. She had heard the stories about those great scholars who worked wonders and knew the secret names of all things. She was born with a curiosity about the world that she felt down to her bones, an ache that grew worse every year she attended the same country school that’d been teaching the same old lessons out of the same old books for what must’ve been generations.  Every year her parents, who loved her but had no money to send her off to some academy would buy her a journal for her birthday, a journal she’d fill up with questions in a few months and be forced to write in the margins to save space. 

Such an earnest desire for knowledge became a prayer, and that prayer was heard by the goddess Ioun, the knowing mistress, who loves all who wish to learn and sent a spark of divine kindness out into the world to give that farmgirl the teacher she deserved.  That spark took residence in a scarecrow and so Thatch was born, head stuffed with straw and cosmic wisdom , heart overflowing with a teacher’s love and desire to see their student thrive.

Further Adventures:

That first student’s name was Oroteia, and under Thatch’s tutelage she became a great mage, venturing out into the world to find the answers her younger self so craved.  Perhaps they’ll encounter her seeking out some forgotten library, ensconced in some great work of magic, or maybe she’s gone so far that they’ll need to break into her sanctum if they have any hopes of obtaining the aid of a powerful mage.

It has been many years since Thatch stirred to being, many children come and gone, their first student having long grown in to her own power as a mage and capable of finding her own way in the world. Thatch can feel themself unravelling, the blessing of Ioun coming loose from their cobbled frame. Perhaps they will fade into nothing, perhaps they will return to be part of the goddess and share with her all they have learned, perhaps the need will be great and they will burn themselves up saving their students, or lighting the way for the party to accomplish their great quest. Thatch is at peace with this, but Oroteia won’t have it and ever since her last visit years ago has spent all her energy devoted to saving her old teacher, delving into sorts of magic that perhaps she should not.