#too much effort and postage

[ineffable-endearments]

Hello, everyone!

In light of Neil Gaiman's comment that Amazon is close to officially renewing Good Omens but hasn't done so yet, I think those of us who can should start sending physical postcards to Amazon Studios!

The TL;DR of this post is that you can easily send a postcard from MyPostcard.com for about $3 (USD, I'm sure other currencies can vary). The Web site will print and mail it for you, so you don't have to do any printing or mailing yourself. The postage is included in the $3.

If you don't already have an image or card you want to use, you can just use one of mine above. Some of them are small because of small source images, but the site seems to resize them appropriately for the card. There are bigger versions in a Google Drive folder that you shouldn't have to be logged in to see.

You can send the postcards asking for a third season of Good Omens addressed to Jennifer Salke and Vernon Sanders, co-heads of Amazon Studios, at:

AMAZON STUDIOS 1620 26TH STREET, SUITE 4000N SANTA MONICA, CA 90404 USA

@fuckyeahgoodomens was the first to post this contact information for Amazon, so thank you, Ixi.

If it's something you don't mind, I would very deeply appreciate reblogs on this, since it works better if lots of people see it! No pressure if you don't want to, though.

And if you have Questions, click through below for my reasoning on all this.

Why should we send postcards to Amazon Studios?

We've made lots of noise online about renewal, and we've done a lot of streaming Good Omens. But I haven't seen much discussion of sending physical mail or, specifically, postcards.

Mail takes up space in the real world. It's slightly harder to ignore than email. It's way more attention-grabbing than posts on X or Tumblr or any other social media site. Because postage is required, physical mail can also appear more "committed."

Postcards specifically are great because of their convenience for the recipient. No one has to open them to read them. All it takes is a quick glance to see what we're asking for, and realistically, a quick glance is the best we can ask for in a corporate office. That's why I'm emphasizing postcards over regular letters (although really, anything helps).

Is sending postcards really going to motivate Amazon to make more Good Omens?

Postcard and letter-writing campaigns have helped get shows renewed in the past. Star Trek: The Original Series is a good example of a series that got another season after a letter-writing campaign. This article has more examples.

We don't actually know what's going on in Good Omens's case. Maybe postcards would make a difference; maybe they wouldn't. We can only make our most determined effort at making sure we're heard, and sending mail is part of that.

The cost of sending a postcard is too much for me.

I understand that sending a postcard will not be an option for many of us. This post isn't intended to try to push you into spending money you don't have. If you still want to find a way to participate, you can also send an email to [email protected] with your comments about wanting Good Omens 3. It's not physical mail, but it is still a personal message from a customer.

In fact, people who are sending postcards might want to follow up with an email, too.

Do we have to use your postcard designs?

No! Not necessarily! You can use anything.

As long as the message you write includes how much you want Good Omens 3, your postcard's image doesn't necessarily have to relate. You could send a souvenir postcard that says "Greetings from Los Angeles, CA / Tadfield, England / etc" from your local post office and just write your message on the back.

Technically, even a plain index card should be thick enough to mail as a postcard, at least by USPS standards. Just write your desire for Good Omens 3 on it, put a stamp and Amazon's address on it, and make sure it's at least 90mm x 127mm (3.5in x 5in).

Isn't Amazon Studios going to notice a bunch of postcards being mailed from the same Web site?

I'm sure they will. But the messages will each be unique, and again, they'll know each card represents a person who had to order the card and postage themselves.

Speaking of unique messages, what should I write?

One sentence is enough. Definitely indicate that you want Season 3 of Good Omens. If you want to add more, you could also write a sentence or two about how much you love the series so far.

Above all, be polite and straightforward! Remember that sarcasm and jokes often do not come across well in print, so it may be best to stick with simple statements that can be taken at face value.

What address should the cards go to?

The co-heads of Amazon Studios appear to be Vernon Sanders and Jennifer Salke; you can address them by name, although I'm guessing it will be someone else who does the reading/glancing.

Amazon Studios's address is:

AMAZON STUDIOS 1620 26TH STREET, SUITE 4000N SANTA MONICA, CA 90404 USA

Where did you get these images?

The images for the nightingale postcard and the Crowley postcard are screencaps from directedbypiper.

The Please Do Not Lick the Walls and Fell the Marvelous posters were downloads from the Amazon X-Ray feature.

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies postcard was adapted from cover art I did for A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine. Most of it is my own, although the mottled background is an extremely blurred version of a free stock texture from Pixabay, users chrisfiedler and/or humusak.

The bookshop postcard is a promotional image from Amazon used in a Den of Geek article.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #renew good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

In Love, in War Pt. 1 | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary | She (the reader) comes from a wealthy family in Birmingham, England and he (Thomas Shelby) comes from a family of no-good troublemakers in Small Heath. Their worlds finally collide when Thomas lands himself in the triage tent of a nearby hospital camp during the battle of the Somme with a neck wound. Past traumas and heavy-handed words open old wounds, and yet, they always find their way back to Birmingham.

Warnings | Blood, gore, mentions of sex (not yet explicit), war, death, and out-dated language ("Gypsies").

Hey- Pixies 🎶

Bodysnatchers- Radiohead 🎵

Word count: 1812k

Not proofread- my b, folks!

..............................................................................................................

Yes, she knew of the Shelbys, who didn’t? She just didn’t really care. She kept her life away from the dark underbelly of Birmingham, and more focused on the bright future in front of her. She was born into a good family with sterling silver spoons in their tea set and barbs strung into their pearls. She was destined for great things, good houses, and well-groomed men with boring Christian names. That was until the beginning of the Great War and most of those men died in the pits of France and Germany. She was engaged once too, to one of those men. 

His name was Frances Gild Jr. and he loved her. He was the heir to a banking fortune with a passion for the arts. He was beyond beautiful with short blonde ringlets and blue eyes. Her daddy loved him and blessed the union when Francis asked for her hand, sliding a large diamond engagement ring onto her finger. That was two months before Britain joined the war. They were still naive enough to sneak behind the kitchen into the distant sheds to have their way with one another. They were young and prudent so their kisses were prideful and polite. Their love-making was brief and unexceptional, legs splayed in the air and fine silk ripped by old sawdust. When the war began, Francis was 20, two years her senior and assumed he was ready for war because his daddy was a Lieutenant. 

There was no time for a wedding, at least that’s what Francis said as he rushed to the front. To wait for his return and to do her part in the war effort, she trained as a nurse. Was she a good nurse? Not particularly. She often fainted from the sight of blood which brought discomfort simply from her period much less an amputated appendage. But she learned how to cope, mostly. The smell of blood was the hardest to ignore. It seemed to never wash out as much as she scrubbed beneath the beds of her nails and behind her ears, the smell was a constant companion. 

It took her a couple of months to complete the basic training course but soon after she was sent to a hospital in London to work on more serious injuries before going directly into the field. She was allowed to go home on the weekends to visit her parents in Birmingham’s wealthier neighborhoods. The job was hard and it didn’t pay well but it afforded her a bit of peace in the whole ordeal, knowing that she was helping English soldiers in some small way. She felt like she could reach Frances through these patients who came in for breaks and fractures, not gunshots or paranoia. It was during one of these long night shifts that she received the telegram postmarked from Frances Gild. She opened the envelope without concern, having received one a week since the beginning of April. That is the night she learned that Francis Gild jr. had died somewhere on the western front, spoiling in mud like old fruit. She’d overlooked the postage from Birmingham, assuming it was just another letter from her fiance, which it wasn’t. It bore his death in plain script, emotionless and frigid. 

“FRANCIS DEAD STOP KILLED IN ACTION STOP WILL SEND NEWS STOP GOD BLESS STOP.” 

She dropped the yellow paper on the clean linoleum floor and felt her jaw fall open in a shocked gasp. Nurses on the night shift rushed to quiet her or comfort her. She paled and clutched the sharp edge of the desk for support. 

“It will be ok.” Voices whispered in her ear. 

“You poor soul.” Others crossed themselves like preventing a bad curse, a hex. A dead fiance disease that carries onto young well-meaning women in close proximity; more always follow the first. 

Francis was the first for her. He was many of her firsts. In a cab back to Birmingham, she thought of the first time they had made-love. He’d finished in a matter of minutes, panting against her chest like a puppy. His eyes bore into her with more passion than his thrusts. He was her first kiss, stolen after dinner behind the china cabinet when the adults had gone through to tea and brandy. That man was dead now, and she imagined his beautiful blue eyes closed forever under the casket’s heavy lid, buried somewhere in his family’s mausoleum outside Birmingham. And what did this leave her? Not a widow, and yet, she believed in a way, she was. 

She was excused from service for three months, allotting her the same mourning period as a widow though she officially lacked the title. She was nearly two years into her training when Francis died and the war waged on in countries that seemed so far away from her house on Claremont. When she was called back to service, she went with a black armband and her light blue uniform. She was dispatched to France and left right away with a British medical unit, relieving the unit stationed at the Somme. During her months of mourning, she had avoided newspapers and prints about the war in France, so the Somme meant nothing to her. They were escorted in large covered trucks with heavy trunks of supplies and rations. Americans followed behind, whistling after the young nurses like the warning knell of a whizbang. 

The medical camp was a shock for her in sight, smell, and noise. Distant bombing and gunfire rang in her ears and vibrated the very pit of her soul. Blood and the threat of blood was as thick as the mud encircling the camp. She thought back to the sterling silver spoons of her youth as she waded through the fecal matter and mud to the office tent. She was assigned to triage. 

“Just assess the situation. Write down the serious injuries, treat the basics, and set those aside who will live for the next few hours. Use your judgment, girls.” The head nurse directed them, holding the girl back as the others hurried to the triage tent. “Word of advice?” The head nurse pursed her lips. 

“Yes, ma’am?” The girl responded. 

“Take off the armband, you’ll look like the Angel of Death out there.” 

She removed the armband strapped around her arm as she moved to the triage tent. Soldiers screamed and pleaded for assistance while others lay dying and without the strength to speak. She followed the movements of the other nurses, checking the bodies and scrambling for pencils and paper dotting with blood and mud. 

“Please help me!” One boy cried and grabbed her sleeve. She recorded his injuries and sent him to the hospital tent. 

“You’ll be fine.” She called after him as he disappeared through the thick canvas drapes. 

She marked down the men she saw who could not be saved and passed them along with a sorrowful shake of her head. The men she saw passed her by in blurs of colors and sounds like silent films in fast motion, a puppet book whose pages flip so fast that a story appears between them. 

The second week she was moved to the hospital tent which doubled as the operation theater. She was not formally trained in surgery but had picked it up in the months of study and shadowing she managed to procure in London. As long as her patients didn’t die, the doctors were willing to let nurses take over due to the lack of helpful hands and skill. Her long habit-like nurse’s cap was pinned up to her head to prevent the veil from falling into open wounds. She washed her hands as another patient was carried into the tent.  

“God dammit.” One boy cursed loudly, clutching his neck with a dirty palm. She scanned his body for further damage and accessed the neck wound. 

“Large cut from metal shrapnel. Some kind of grenade.” A second nurse who had followed the stretcher with the patient. 

“Thank you, Mandy.” She nodded to the nurse. “Sir, I need you to move your hand from the cut.” She spoke loudly over the man’s curses.

“Fuck that. I’m gonna bleed out.” He growled through his heaving breaths. 

“You’ll bleed out if you don’t move your bloody hand.” She retorted, her hand full of gauze. “I’ll pack the wound so that I can look at it, ok?” 

“Fuck me!” He yelled at the tent’s ceiling and reluctantly moved his hand. Blood spurted out from his neck before she could clamp the clean gauze down on the agitated wound.

“Ok, ok.” She soothed, frantically applying pressure and wiping the area with strong alcohol. “Mandy, hold this against the wound, I need to close it.” She ordered and switched with Mandy, rummaging through a cart of supplies with bloody hands. She removed a surgeon’s needle and thread for stitches. 

“She threaded the needle and pierced the skin around the wound with the needle, pulling the two sides of flesh together with quick movements. 

The soldier screamed and thrashed on the ground. 

“I need help over here!” She yelled over her shoulder. Two men ran over and held his arms down as she tried to finish quickly. 

“I’m sorry, sir!” She weaved the needle through one last time and tied it off. Pouring alcohol on the finished stitches, she caught her breath. “It’s done.” She gasped out and nodded to the men. They released the soldier who looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness. Mandy removed the bloody gauze and moved to the next patient.

“Give us some of that.” He panted and pointed weakly to the bottle of gin she’d been using to clean wounds. She handed it over and he took a strong swig of the horrible drink. 

“I hope,” he panted, “that I never have to see you again.” He handed back the bottle. 

“I wish the same, sir.” She nodded and stood. His hand shot out from his side and gripped her wrist with renewed strength. 

“What’s your name, nurse?” He tried to smirk. She noticed his large blue eyes as she told him. He loosened his grip on her wrist and gave a nod. 

“Thomas.” He swallowed. She paused for a moment, registering his clipt cocky accent. “Pleased to meet you.” He added when she said nothing. 

“You’ll be taken back to the infirmary to rest. Try not to move your neck because you may loosen the stitches. Don’t waste the stitches, Thomas.” She joked lightly. 

“Is that what you care about then?” He smiled. 

“What?” 

“The stitches.” 

“Yes, and you by extension. Your life is my responsibility but stitches cost money.” She laughed and stood again. 

“Good to know where we stand.” He called softly from the ground and she allowed herself to smile as she met the next group of patients.

...................

End part 1 :)

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader #smut #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian fluff

[00127am]

signed with love and forever yours, mark

postage. lee mark & gn! reader, mentions of death in the context of greek mythos cost to ship. 712 words

growing up, i never understood the tragedy of orpheus and eurydice. how, upon achieving the opportunity to bring back his beloved, orpheus squandered it all with a single look. it frustrated me, that after all that effort--every song he had written and preformed, compositions which moved all, even gods-- he abandoned all success with a single glimpse backwards. a second of a stare that only captured the whisper of eurydice's figure before she was dragged back to the depths of the underworld. i never understood why he looked back, why he had to fail when he was so close to the edge of triumph.

though i suppose that after meeting you, if i took the place of poor orpheus and you, my eurydice, i'm afraid that i would also lose you for a second time. that i would risk everything i had worked towards, everything that i had done just to see your face in that fraction of a second. to look at you, no matter the consequences. no matter what what i had sacrificed to get to you, no matter if i too would be punished for this singular stare. i would do so, even so close to escape, so close to having you in my arms again without a moment of hesitation. i, not only as orpheus but as mark--your mark--would do anything to spare even the slightest of glances in your direction. even if they would only forfeit half of a second of being captured in the reflection of your eyes and nothing more. for that half of a second, that split sliver in time, would be worth more to me than any hours of gazing upon anything else.

i find us to be more likened to paris and helen of troy. a story i've always understood, at any and all basic fundamentals of its core, though doubted. for how could anyone be so beautiful that others would begin wars over them? that their beauty would be more fair, more compelling than that of the gods? that men would be reduced to nothing more than spurned infatuation, fighting battles--killing-- for any brief moment spent within helen's gaze.

i wasn't sure that any such person could exist. but with you, i find myself to be playing the part of poor paris--destined, perhaps, to starting wars over the mere thought of you.

about mark's love letters.

mark's handwriting is rough and scribbled. oftentimes jotted down with whatever pen he has lying around, series of swirls and scratches at the top margins of the page where he attempts to get the ink to flow. his words, in a stark difference to the somewhat chaotic state of his slanted, all-caps writing, are carefully chosen. hand-picked with the utmost care, the upmost emphasis to ensure the quickening of your heartbeat. though short, his letters are poetic and always very true to himself. you can almost picture the look on his face when he writes them, a fantasy that does nothing but conjure heat into the full of your cheeks.

he first writes these down in his notes app of all places. thumbs frantically typing with every out of the blue strike of inspiration (something that happens rather often, both for songs and for you, though mark could argue that these two things are nearly synonymous). and when he does get the time (something he seems to be always running out of) he transfers these pretty proses to the whitened canvas of card stock. a firm choice, made to last. each one of his letters are signed with less-than-perfect stars and a drawing of whichever thing has recently caught of your fancy (usually him).

mark often sends them in the mail to you but prefers to give his letters to you in person. something he often finds himself regretting when you choose to read them outloud, burying his face in his hands as he begs you to stop. you don't and mark often finds himself begrudgingly thinking that you're much too like haechan for your own good (or his). it's not all bad though, not when the reward for withstanding such utter humiliation on his part is all of your affection. and mark would take anything in the world if it met just receiving one shred of your heart.

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @chriscentric @trourevaille @firstdonutllamafarm @jenaisnte thank you for supporting me! ♡

🧾 © 00127am 2024

#⏱ wake up! it's 00127am! #💌 letters of my love #📋 - nct dream #📋 - nct 127 #📋 - mark #🖇️ love letters #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct timestamps #nct dream timestamps #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines #mark x reader #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark fluff #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee drabbles

[salchat]

I want to get on board with Misha's fundraising efforts to demine Ukraine so I'm putting three of my Castiels up for auction.

Each one is 18 by 24cm, in soft pastel on sturdy 360gsm pastel card. I will also cover postage costs. Normally I ask £80 for this size, so you could get yourself a bargain, although hopefully not too much of a bargain or I won't raise much!

I'm offering:

Purple Cas

Puppy-dog eyes Cas

And Soft-eyes Cas

Message me to place a bid - in £ please or I'll get confused! I'll post regularly to update so you can see if you're winning. Bidding will close 22.00 BST on the 22nd June. If I receive two equal bids, I'll take the first to hit my inbox.

Please reblog to spread the word! Thank you!

#demine ukraine #fundraiser #misha collins #castiel #art #spn

[firespirited]

From yesterday. She loves to sit on the bench like a human and watch the world go by.

Today I got pretty sick so I'm going to have to not do much for the next few days let alone go out (the purpura are intense, I look like I took a spitting pan of grease to the face or measles or something. Also strained the neck injury which is visibly swollen and mighty sore)

I've listed the 9 vintage heads as a bundle and the Monster High bait on ebay (saffyruth)

but so long as there are no bids any dollblr folks can have the vintage head bundle for 8$ (aka free with tracked postage bubble envelope worldwide) or a $30 (aka the price of a kilo) box of dolls: monsters, various barbie/disney, stretch fabrics, fun yarn scraps for reroots, assorted accessories... (see suppi.net/bratz/recap.php for headshots) I'd be delighted to put together a custom package instead of listing stuff on ebay. If you're in the EU, 11€ for 3kilos of assorted doll junk. I'll empty the various drawers on to my bed: take photos and you can pick and choose.

Other stuff on ebay is available to be *added* to a just pay postage box, it's priced by how much it cost and the amount of work involved (glue treatments, bleaching and whatnot). I don't allow haggling once I've settled on an "ebay acceptable" price because the worth in time/effort and my minimum reveals itself. I know, the rules are weird. 😅 Reroots became more precious once I couldn't replicate that again, like sentimental value, I hope that makes sense.

Haven't posted much, had a lot to say but wasn't sure it was appropriate or would be properly understood. Not wording great lately. Having to do an overview of 2023 brought up some really interesting things about what I value and collect that need to be worded in a way that can't be misconstrued "so you hate waffles?"-style.

I've been grieving somewhat for a while and, well, it seems like everyone is going through it, so why add to dash sadness (at a time like this too)? But also had a bittersweet healing moment with mum and got to know my sister a little better as she's been coming on dog walks (Talia is hers, well it's more like she is Talias: chihuahuas bond to their chosen human, it's quite astonishing to witness) and my old lady-baby Lily is in better shape than ever. And some pondering about what kind of hobbyist I'd like to be if I can't use my arms again much this year (arm movements also include photos, editing and typing)

Ok off to sleep, see you in 12-14h. Love to all and special thoughts to everyone I'm seeing having a rough time of it. PS: Dms or emails re "doll clear out" will work much better than replies/reblogs.

#saf #Long post #dolls #Ramblings #Yeah it was chicken again

[14846]

Chapter 3: Meeting

The tavern was three weeks ago. He had gotten a few questions and remarks from his comrades about what had happened that night. He didn’t mention Janette to any one of them. He told them he washed out into a hotel room. All was fine.

The soldier saw her again in the streets the other day. He was dressed in a similar uniform to the first time they met, unfortunately. Duty called for a uniform, and that was the UOD until work was over. To put it politely, along with his burly demeanor, he was [yet again] a sore sight on commoner grounds. He had meant to apologize to her. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what he had done wrong, his feelings told him to confront the girl nonetheless.

However, once he reached the block where her tavern was, he couldn’t do it. Another day later, and yet again he found himself in the same spot- though this time it was for business. Without delving deep into the lore, because unfortunately the writer may not know the extent of these details, the blonde found himself waiting in line at a post-office. Okay, perhaps this wasn’t governmental business, but it was personal. He was adamant about writing home to his family. Having some letters sent out was crucial for him to balance out his time in Paradis.

Running for his inner pep-talk, one considering a nervous round of ‘I hope I don’t run into that bar girl’, he finally moved. A foot. His eyes hooded over and focused absolutely nowhere. He had only told his comrades that he would be gone for an hour. Easily this could turn into two- or three. The efforts were futile from the very beginning. He could’ve skipped the line if he had some postage stamps, but the soldier lacked them. If it weren’t for his pride, he might’ve asked one of his cohorts for a few spares. They cost money, though, and he didn’t like owing people anything. Ironic. For Janette telling him that he owed nothing to her for quartering in her abode, he felt very different about it. And poorly enough the blonde just became a hypocrite for not paying allowance back to the maid who helped him. Surely that tea drink cost money.. the sheets she must've had to clean when he left for her own sanity, the labor to lug him around as if he were worthless..

Why was he in line waiting to buy some stamps when he could easily just have used his comrades? As easily as he had used that brunette and did not pay her back. He felt his chest tighten to try and maintain the seeping guilt that spilled from his lungs. He'd be here for two hours, no doubt in his mind. Another foot forward. 

He hadn't asked for her help, though? He never asked for a drink or a bed? Let alone to be helped in the first place. Oh. He must've looked helpless. In that case, he was practically begging society to come and scoop him up that night. That just made the blonde feel like he had to hide and cower. He reminded himself to breathe, and his lungs released what was left over from the oxygen he held back through the entire thought process. Since when has the line shortened so much?

So the post-office wasn’t going to be as long as a wait. He was too used to his youth in Liberio.

He purchased his stamps and sent out his letters, already anticipating the mail he would hopefully receive soon from his family. Too bad he was so lost in thought that he totally disregarded that, right in front of him on the street, the bar-girl walking straight for the post office herself. The girl looked a bit caught off guard, because as they were passing each other, he finally made eye-contact. His expression contorted into something a bit more dramatic and shocked, while hers was concerned and confused. Did she look that bad? His legs kept carrying him forward. 

Janette was clearly offended that he would even dare to look at her in such a profound way. Sure, she was a commoner, a worker- though be it for something good in business- but.. He was a high-ranking soldier. Even seeing him in commoner clothes like today and he still looked well groomed and put together. She wondered if he cut his nails.. Odd. Frankly, his behavior pissed her off. She held her head high and did not even falter in step as she entered the post-office.

Reiner was ashamed. Petty, but ashamed. He had to end this once and for all. He hadn't recognized at this point that he made such a poor face at the girl, and instead took it rather hard that she had completely ignored him and kept walking. To be fair, they didn't really know each other.

Without much thought he found his shoes shuffling across the stony street and into the very tavern he had left behind that morning after the fireworks. A man was propped up behind the counter, and considering it to be early in the day still, there was hardly a soul in the proximity. The bar man’s eyes were considerably bagged and tired, his hand holding down a wet rag against the bar counter. He looked bored. 

The soldier sat at the counter, looking a bit apprehensive considering that he was not fond of drinking so early in his day, or making small talk with a stranger for that matter. His hands clammed up. His shoe fell against the floorboards and he considered getting up until low and behold, a specific brunette walked into the room.

“There's no fireworks outside, sir,” the lady said unapologetically. Ouch. “Too many people,” the blonde conceded with a grunt. “Hit your limit?” “Yeah..” Reiner entertained, his lips thinning down to a flat line.  Silence. “Can I help you with something?”

Reiner raised his gaze and met it with the brunette who was now standing across from him and behind the counter. His posture straightened, and his hands tucked onto his lap in refusal to acknowledge how clammy they had become. With a sharp sigh, he took one hand over toward his pocket, his body shifting and propping up to give himself some leverage as he pulled out his wallet. “Yeah..” His fingers sifted through the folds, and the brunette could not help but peer over and watch in curiosity. His eyes did not meet hers. “I want to pay for holding up your time a few weeks ago-”

“Cut that out,” the woman’s stern voice interrupted. There was a pause, and a genuine look of concern as Reiner looked up and met her gaze. She was genuinely peeved. Her hand pushed his hovering wallet away from the counter as she continued  saying “I don’t need anything.”

“But you looked upset earlier-” There was an evident groan. “I wonder why, Mr. Braun?” “Exactly why I came in here to pay you back-”

She folded her arms taut around her chest and leaned her forearms against the counter, looking him square in the eyes. “I don’t need your pity, okay?” 

Suddenly Reiner felt a bit embarrassed. He’d been going on about hating everything that he could’ve done wrong, and in that, he did exactly what he told himself he hated, and that was pity. How is it that he seemed to ruin just about anything he did socially? The brunette must’ve noticed this, because she added “however, if you’re looking to spend some money, you can take me out instead.”

That certainly was not what he was expecting.

#anime #anime and manga #manga #reiner x oc #reiner x reader #reiner braun #shigeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot reiner #aot #attack on titan #aot smut #slow burn #aot fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

[alantea87]

Two weeks in with a Nokia flip phone and no social media...

And I'm feeling better. Honestly, though. I do not miss social media. Especially the control it had over my emotions, lol. However, I do deeply miss memes. Memes were my oxygen. And I do miss the casual interactions with old and new friends on Insta. Facebook has been permanently deleted and my Instagram has been deactivated - not sure what next. But I am indeed enjoying my low-tech life using a Nokia flip.

New toy (pictured: Sennheiser HD599, affordable audiophile open-back wired headphones)...

How am I filling my time? MUSIC. Like the good old days. Like, listening to music in lossless with a wired head set kind of old days. These HD599s are a cult fave in the audiophile community for their accurate audio presentation, wide soundstage and resolution. Got them for £157, RRP £199. Basically it's like listening to your fave artists in the studio with them, as long as you feed them a decent source (I'm using Apple Music, lossless + hi ress lossless). Technically I'm not using a proper DAC, just Apple's lighting to 3.5mm adapter (a secret DAC by Apple) for my iPad Pro to drive these HD599s. The sound is out of this world. I'm hearing things in tracks I've not heard before. My current fave artist for about two years now is Zach Bryan (alt-country, americana - https://www.zachbryan.com/music). He's the only artist who can currently make me cry and that says alot.

Note-taking with pen and paper...

I have now resorted to my mini Muji notebook and pen jot down to dos, shopping lists and ideas. My Nokia doesn't have a note taking app, but it does have a simple calendar that I really like. My handwriting is awful, though. Over ten years of smartphone use would do that to a person.

My current EDC (every day carry) is as follows...

a) Nokia 2660 Flip, b) iPad, AirPods Pro 2, c) Muji notepad + gel pen, d) Kindle, e) on gym days... Apple Watch SE (for music)

SMS...

You'd think texting is horrendous on a feature phone, but suprisingly I would say it's very doable. Especially if predictive text is available, which it is on the Nokie 2660 Flip. Fine, you can't type quickly but the tactility of the keypad is lovely. It really feels like you're putting in more effort in your messages than a touch screen.

Less 'digital blur'...

I know such a term is used in the photo-editing world, but now I use it to describe my experience when I am presented with too much choice on streaming services or other digital media. Everything is blurring into one digital blob. With the exception of music streaming (I love the choice and I go through phases of liking certain genres/artists), I really do miss CDs and Blu-rays. I've now reconnected my 10 year old Blu-ray player to my 1080p projector to tap back into my Blu-ray collection. Thankfully, it's a good time to get back into them, as you can buy preowned Blu-rays for a couple quid on eBay including postage. You can't beat the picture quality and bitrate. Not to mention actually owning a physical copy no streaming service can take away from you, lol.

Less noise...

As I've deleted WhatsApp (the Nokia 2660 isn't compatible with WhatsApp, only the US version of it aka 2680 Flip), I've not been in any group chats for over two weeks and it's been bliss. Yes, that also includes my family ones. I do not miss them. The total lack of noifications on my Nokia (apart from calls, SMS and calendar events) has contributed to lower levels of general anxiety and distractions. I am now able to fully concentrate during a TV show or even when listening to an album. I am fully present and immersed. Even my conversations with real people have improved greatly; I am more patient and empathetic. Mainly because I am not half-scrolling on my phone anymore. Gosh, smartphones have really killed off real human connection.

Do I miss my iPhone...?

I think if you can have a healthy relationship with a smarthphone (not using social media, no doom scrolling etc), I think they pose as a vital tool in the modern world. But as I do not have that level of self control, my Nokia was the intervention I needed. Two weeks in I don't actually miss it. I miss how it was a tool to allow me to self-soothe (not in a healthy way). So breaking up with my smartphone was probably for the best. It's made me get comfortable with being uncomfortable. Awkward silences, quiet stares into space, being one with your thoughts. Just like the good old days.

Where is my iPhone?

It's tucked away in my drawer, fully charged with £5 loaded onto a seperate sim inserted in it to be used PAYG. It is only to be used in emergencies or when I am travelling to new distant lands e.g. South London, lol. Literally it just has Google Maps, Uber and email. Not even music. I don't want to see my iPhone as an entertainment device (I am not against digital entertainment, but I am against small smartphone devices that hijack your attention all day/night).

Am I bored?

Yes and no. Yes, because I loved the short-form media that exists on Instagram (spending sometimes hours per evening consuming it). And keeping up with my favourite meme accounts, musicians and rugby teams on there, too. But no, because I've just gone back to classic ways on keeping oneself entertained... music and movies.

Who am I texting?

Literally, just three close friends I've known for over 15 years. No body else.

Will I keep using my Nokia 2660 Flip?

Yes, for the time being. I think I found a compromise with using smart tech. Just not using a smartphone has been crucial to this compromise, as it has literally improved my mental health in only two weeks. All this extra time and energy has allowed me to focus on therapy (I have an amazing therapist I speak to weekly) and addressing key life challanges I have been avoiding for so long.

-

More posts to come,

Love, Alan. x

#nokia2660 #dumbphone #featurephone #nokia #sennheiser #HD599

[m34gs]

If you could pick one animated Disney villain to twist and put into Twisted Wonderland (that doesn't already exist in game) who would you pick, why, and tell a bit about their character.

ooooh this is a fun ask!!! Thank you, friend!

I took some time to think about it, and I narrowed my choices down from Disney's giant list of villains to three, and from there I had to do like a mini-showdown in my brain to decide which one I wanted.

The direction that I took with this was to add an extra dorm; rather than go the 'staff member' route...I thought it would be more fun and impactful to the storyline if there was another dorm :D

The one who won the 'mini-showdown' and is the one I would pick to Twist and have in Twisted Wonderland was:

Yzma, from The Emperor's New Groove! (Naturally, being that this will be a dorm, Yzma will have Kronk as Vice Housewarden!) I think Yzma is an interesting character and that there is more to her than you think about in an initial watch-through of the movie. I also would love a dorm based on Peruvian culture and scenery!

So let's talk about Yzma:

She's smart; that much is obvious, with her potions and the fact that she actually managed a great deal of Kuzko's duties prior to her taking the throne.

She's dramatic; I mean honestly, with the entrance to her lab? The multiple levers and the crocodiles and the whole plot she makes up to get rid of Kuzko (recall, initially she wanted to turn him into a bug, and put him in a box, and put that box into a bigger box and mail it to herself, and then when it arrived: SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!!! MWAHAHAHAHA!)

However, she is also practical as she ditches that initial plan and settles on simply poisoning the emperor. You know, to save on postage.

She's very dependent on Kronk, and I don't think she even realizes how much until she's in the jungle covered in muck and has to rely on him to speak to a squirrel.

She is ruthless when she wants something. She has absolutely no problem stating what she wants and then taking it. As evidenced by: she tried to kill the Emperor to take the throne. And how she gives orders to Kronk when they're in the restaurant, about how she wants her food done.

Now, if we were to twist her, and make a male version (young enough to attend school), and give him a storyline, I think it would sound something like this:

In the movie, part of Yzma's motivation for getting rid of Kuzko isn't strictly "I want the throne", but rather "I have been taking care of this young man since birth and I have been assisting him with ruling, and he not only never recognizes my efforts but constantly orders me about without actually thinking about anyone or anything other than himself" so let's mirror that. Twisted Yzma could be an older sibling who has been taking care of the younger ones his entire life...but no one recognizes his efforts and the younger kiddos got all the attention and praise, even when it was Yzma working behind the scenes to make things happen.

Now, you may be thinking "Isn't that what happened with Jamil?" No, no. Jamil was never allowed to shine or stand out because it would make Kalim look more amazing if he didn't. What I'm thinking for Yzma is: he tries. He tries to stand out, but he gets accused of stealing the spotlight. He tries to help, but then no one acknowledges him at all, especially not the younger sibling everyone dotes on, as that sibling has been taught that he is better than Yzma and that it is Yzma's *job* to take care of him, so no thanks is required.

Yzma comes to Night Raven College with a desire to prove himself. He ends up in the same dorm as Kronk, and Kronk is the first one to value Yzma as he is and be enthralled by his knowledge. This allows him to somehow worm his way into Yzma's heart.

Yzma would work hard to become the Dorm leader...and he would be so proud when he becomes one. But no one back home would really acknowledge it, too focused on his younger brother. This is a good set up for tension.

As time goes on, it only gets worse. Perfect grades on written exams. Perfect scores in flight classes. Perfect potions. Exceptionally perfect potions (I think Yzma would be one of Crewel's faves). Perfect record of attendance. One of the most respected dorms on campus. Also, I think his dorm would be very into theatrics and have a lot of successful theatre students (because as I said; Yzma is Dramatic) and put on fantastic shows (that Yzma's family never comes to)

None of it gets really recognized, but it's always "Kuzko did this" or "Kuzko learned that", and Yzma gets more and more sick of it.

Suddenly? There's this magic-less prefect? That everyone seems to love? Who is getting through a magic school on essentially a 'free ride'??? Who is going to classes and taking tests and is actually passing and the student body is more interested in them than they are in Yzma????

I think as Yuu works their way into the hearts of the other dorms, Yzma would become more and more annoyed. Perhaps, when it comes to be Yzma's dorm's turn; what happens might be that they are putting on a play. Anyone can audition. Grim wants to be a part of it, and in his antics, wrecks some props during auditions. This is a Cardinal Sin. Never touch someone else's prop. He and Yuu get assigned tech duties to help work on replacing props and assist with the behind-the-scenes work of the play.

I think what it would eventually take is for Yzma's own dorm to be warming up to Yuu and Grim, in order for Yzma to overblot. Perhaps the final straw is Kronk's character commenting that Yzma is being a bit hard on Yuu, and it's just so familiar to what he's heard growing up alongside his younger brother that he just. Snaps.

Ehehe, I may have gone a bit overboard with my ideas there...lol. But I had a lot of fun answering this and I really do think Yzma could be fun added in as a student!

Hope you enjoyed this answer! Thank you so much for asking, this was a lot of fun!

#asks #friends #kimium #responses #twisted wonderland #who would I add to twisted wonderland #for fun

[dear-fictionkin]

Woo okay I'm actually doing this! I guess there should be a tw for mentions of death?

Hi Bojack,

It's me, Sarah Lynn! Did you miss me?

I know you do.

I know you feel guilty, I know you feel like a piece of shit, and that's because you are. You're an asshole and a bit of a creep and so much more but you know that already, I know you know that, I shouldn't be telling you this.

I'm not the best person either, and you know that, too.

I'm sorry for being so manipulative. I never apologised for that did I? I'm really, really sorry.

I know you're sorry too, and for what it's worth I forgive you.

I forgive you okay? I forgive you. There are probably so many sins haunting you, I hope that reading this - if you ever read this, will at least help you bare this one.

To an extend it's your fault I died, but I would have probably ended up like that sooner or later. That doesn't make what happened any better, that doesn't make you less responsible, but it's still a fact.

I don't think you're a bad person, you sure as hell aren't an inherently good person but you aren't inherently bad either. There were times were you genuinely tried, and that effort, even if often fruitless, was at least something.

And it's not like you always failed to do good, I know that you could, that you have.

Anyways this is a mess haha, I don't know what came over me either.

- Sarah Lynn (or maybe I should sign off using Sarah Himmelfarb?) , from Bojack Horseman

[postage date: Feb. 20]

#Bojack Horseman kin #Sarah Lynn kin #Sarah Himmelfarb kin #death tw #tw death

[chromatic-lamina]

Of course I’m one of those who would benefit, and also not all fan events do this, but I feel that zines and events that are promo-ing said zines and events could maybe dip into the reserves of drabbles or other written work from creators on the characters/themes they’re featuring, in addition to the art work they use.

Pre-existing art is often featured. Why not pre-existing writing? Smaller pieces or excerpts at least? (To be fair, some events have done this/do this).

Like, I think that writers get it; many events are only interested in art or artists: Art is instantly accessible and will always get more traction, but I like reading fiction in events and zines too, and interest checks show that most people are interested in its inclusion.

Pertaining to zines (as opposed to character week events, etc).—aside from limited space for writers, and roles already being allocated to mods and guest writers within that limited space—I think this maybe adds to why interest checks receive a much lower participation rate from potential writers.

Writers know that chances of inclusion are very slim. And zines and many events just don’t seem to be interested in the written word if their lead-up promos are anything to go by.

In terms of physical products, I know there are many factors contributing to lower writer inclusion, such as space in the zine, printing and postage costs, etc., and I know that many artists are actively working in the field whereas many writers are not—so maybe if a zine is artist-driven it’s easier to assess work, etc., if it is purely visual. And yeah, the written word will always be less popular on social media.

But I feel that zines/events could make more of an effort to acknowledge the existence of written pieces, and to also help promote them, or, alternatively, maybe just put up the sign: Writers need not apply/contribute, if inclusion is not wanted or has already been decided.

I know it takes a lot to organise an event, and I’m mostly talking about the hype period before production or the start of a zine or event. I do appreciate all the work that a ton of people do for free to bring these products and events to fandom’s table, and know that you absolutely cannot please all of the people all of the time. Digital zines and anthologies are the way to go for writers, btw, if better odds of inclusion are sought.

#chromalami #chromamuesli #zines #events #digital zines and anthologies #are the way to go for writers #regarding events #well they’re fun #writers participate #and not all have a hype period #but if they do #artwork will almost exclusively be featured #long post

[istherewifiinhell]

okay. okay. if anyone is in for. "a good time" (why they put that in scare quotes? SHH). mirage issue 15. found anyway you read comics online and broke ;}. which came out after 16 dont worry about it. has a letters section. to set the scene. this is after eastman and laird have a soft separation and dont work together on books like they used to. this after (first seasons of) the show is out. and its after each of there "solo" debuts (each has a different inker and the mirage studios letterer), and after the first main book with a 'guest' artist soloing the issue.

suffice to say. fans never change. tho its funny you used to have to pay postage to say it. its. everything you could possible imagine it to be. what is this crap? you guys cant work apart? whys the plot not going HOW I THINK IT OUGHT. its soft baby shit and you guys are sell outs. etcetcetc. incredible stuff. self parody really.

made even funnier that the section also includes one of theeeee most prototypical concerned parent letters. those foul turtle comics! think of the children. which. imma include some of lairds response too cause i think its interesting to hear from. one of the guys who's. maybe most had that levied at him. like. ever?

(extra graph breaks mine) On the values of the turtles:

On think of the children:

... If you had read all of our books, you would have seen that we try to use the "off-screen" approach wherever possible, keeping the actual act of violence outside of the panel. Also, if you had taken the time to read all of our books, I'm sure you would have seen that we do not have the Turtles going out looking for trouble, fighting for the sake of fighting, being bullies, or using excessive force; just as we also do not have them cursing continuously (if at all, really) or using slang or poorly structured language excessively in fact, the Turtles by and large speak with correct grammar and syntax, and only speak otherwise when under stress or responding to excitement.

If you had spent the extra effort to really read our books, you would have also seen that the values that we promote through the Turtles' words and actions are positive ones, including respect for the rights of the individual; reverence for the wisdom that comes with age; and recognition of the value of a caring family life, among others. Yes, the Turtles aren't perfect characters - they lose their tempers, they squabble, they insult one another. But they also help others in need, and try to do the right thing, and care for each other. And isn't that they way it is in real life? Why shouldn't our comic book reflect that?

d'ya think he's mad?

I'm always concerned when I hear people fussing and fuming over sex and violence in the media; when they imply that merely being exposed to either or both will turn any child into a sociopath or psychopath. That, put quite simply, is crap. It flies in the face of all common sense: Of all the millions and millions of us who were exposed to thousands of hours of sleaze and violence on the tube and in books and magazines, how many of us turned out to be violent cases?

Think about it. There is no simple "cause and effect" relationship. What truly matters is the way the parent or parents of each child bring that child up… and that is scary to some who would rather not make the effort needed to teach their children to lead good and just lives, and finding a convenient scapegoat (comic books, movies, TV, etc.) is much more appealing, as it offers an easy cover for their own failings.

on comics as a medium:

you know what yeah i think he might have had enough.

But I would like to try to get you to see that your view of comics as a strictly children's medium is way off base. It is not now, and never has been. Think about it- just because there are large, hardcover illustrated children's books, do you expect all large, hardcover, illustrated books to be for children? Of course not; and the same holds true for all media, including comic books.

Comics can be for young kids… but they can also be for teenagers… and they can be for adults. In fact, they can be for all ages, and that is the way we approach the Turtle books. We believe they are suitable for all ages, and do not require some kind of label to protect innocent young children from their contents.

In closing, I would like to touch on one of your statements, that "At best these comics should not be printed…". I have to ask you, do you really believe that? Because if you do… well, I'll just say that I am grateful for the fact that you are not an omnipotent being, because I would hate to live in the kind of creatively constipated, simple-minded, and facistic world you would surely create.

"At best these comics should not be printed…" - have you no conception of what a mind-bogglingly insensitive and dictatorial statement that is? It's as if I were to say to you, "At best Bonnie Winter should never be allowed to speak her mind." Does that sound like the "land of the free, home of the brave" to you?

It doesn't to me.

#some shit #turbles... #picture this. its 1988 and reddit doesnt exist but you still need to be a bitter little pill. dljdfngfdsfg #as others are saying. turtle fans HATE whenever there. plot development. fdjksgdfg #goddddd okay lolllll. i sat down to READ comics but i did this instead jsdfhgbjdfshgjdhsg. WHAT A PIECE OF HISTORY.... same as it ever was. #wifi blogs mirage #technically

[yukipri]

Hey! I'm a patreon subscriber and just saw your merch post. Everything looks AMAZING. I was just wondering if you've ever considered selling any of your potential leftover merch online? Bc I am not in NY rn but I would *kill* for some of your stickers and a few tote bags lmao.

Sorry if you've answered this before! Either way, just wanted to say it all looks great and I hope you have a great time at the con!

Thanks so much for your support on Patreon, and for liking my Patreon sneak peeks at my Anime NYC merch!

As stated on the Patreon post, assuming the stickers turn out well, there's a good chance that they will be included in some future promotions (perhaps not the specific stickers made for the con, but some stickers). However, because production/shipping costs makes them significantly more expensive than my postcards, they will be on the appropriate Tiers to reflect that base cost.

Other merch that cannot be included in standard flat envelopes with stamps postage are a lot more complicated. I currently do not have the bandwidth to manage shipping things, especially not managing an online store and the vast number of tasks that entails. Even attempting to do so would mean I would need to halt all of my digital content so I have the time to handle that.

That would mean zero new art. Zero new fic chapters. Zero nothing.

I would maybe need to take one month, possibly two months off to figure out an online store. I tried once before, and it was incredibly stressful and I never got to opening, and that was before I had my current very demanding job. I would assume many of my patrons would drop during my time away due to lack of content, and in addition to a store costing money to run, and the amount of money i would need to invest in product packaging/label print/everything, it would put me in a bad place financially, physically, and mentally.

In addition to that, taking that much time away from my current projects runs the very real risk of me ditching them. Without an outlet for my stories, my enthusiasm for them will wither rapidly. So there's a decent chance that I will ditch most if not all of my current ongoing AUs. If the experience is miserable enough, I may just drop my current fandom entirely to get away from the association...

Plus like. Making art and fic is what I love. I hate business and figuring out new systems and handling money and shipping and going to the post office. i would be miserable ;_; Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.

All of this to say, again, while I wish I could take your money, snap my fingers, and get any merch I choose to make into your hands, it unfortunately is more complicated than that, and I currently just don't think I have the bandwidth to handle a store. If I could quit my day job, sure! Might be possible. But alas, while I am deeply appreciative for all the support on Patreon and it helps immensely, I do not make enough on it to live by it alone.

I understand that some artists manage to have an online store, and I feel immense respect for their abilities to manage it and gratitude for their effort, which I too have benefited from by being able to purchase from them. But in the end, not all artists are the same. Perhaps they don't produce as much regular digital content as me, or perhaps they don't have a day job, or perhaps they have people who can help them. Perhaps their circumstances are the same as mine or worse, and I just can't manage my time/am an slow creator. All I can say is I'm already working at the maximum capacity of what I personally can handle, and unfortunately there's no wiggle room for a project as vast as an online store.

(this is not me asking for advice on how to start a shop, or looking for people to reassure me it's easy. That's wonderful for you, but again I don't think I can manage it atm)

If it's just leftovers of merch from the con and they're in the single digits, I may be able to reach out to patrons on a case by case basis, and just send Paypal invoices rather than opening a store proper. But I also intentionally chose designs and fandoms that do not age out and merch that stores well, so it may be better for me to keep my extra stock for my next con. We'll see how it looks after I get the merch in hand, and the situation after the con!

I may also feel more optimistic at a later date, but right now I am extremely stressed, frazzled, and tired from combo of Clonetober + preparing for ANYC next month, so just the idea of a store is...Very Bad ^ ^;

I will try to update my inprint next month though, so that all of my prints available at ANYC will be there online too!

Apologies for the long response, but I hope this clarifies my current situation and the possibility of merch online. I really wish I could do more, but I am just a single creator, who is not at all well off, who is juggling a full time job + full time content creation, and whose mental/physical state is always one sneeze away from shattering. I wish my circumstances were good enough that I could accomplish more, but I'm also grateful for what I have now, and hope that what little I can offer is enough.

Thanks for understanding!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

#YukiPri replies #Anonymous #online store #or rather lack thereof #I'm sorry Anon I wish I could too #I like the idea of being able to make merch and send it to anyone #and I know how frustrating it can be to not be able to buy things online #but again I just don't think I can handle the stress rn #'you could get someone to help!' #I don't make enough on art to pay *me* #I can't pay another person and I'm not gonna take volunteer work for what is hopefully but unlikely to be profit #I'm not gonna make any money at ANYC I'm just hoping I can at least break even for all the money I'm pouring into it #the way I do Patreon promos with specific pre-determined sets of cards for one month each are the maximum i can manage ;_;

[00127am]

signed with love and forever yours, jeno

postage. lee jeno & gn! reader cost to ship. 815 words

i've come to love the summer more so than any other time of year. because you in the summer, the season which you hold closest to your heart--the one in which you are nothing but wholly yourself in every sense of the sentiment--is the you which made me realize just exactly what i feel for you. a conclusion i may not have reached if not for that summer.

the summer when i met you for around the hundredth time, in that muggy july heatwave that had haechan dragging us all down to the beach. a car ride we took with a begrudging reluctance and all four of the windows down. he said he was bringing along another friend, you, the pretty one i'd met always in passing. always in fleeting conversations that were always interrupted or your attention diverted by one of our other friends who you were always closer too. i didn't give your company too much thought then and i didn't think i would come to give it any further thought at all. but i did. do. i've never believed in love at first sight. but it seems that i must agree in some sense with those i previously critiqued, because there simply isn't any other expression to describe what it felt like to see you for the hundredth time.

i know it wasn't the same for you, wedged in the backseat between two men you had barely ever spoken to before (much too close with haechan and renjun to pay us any mind, though, i wish that you would pay me more mind). and i'm sure you had no positive feelings for me, not with the way jaemin was wedged into your side--forcing your skin to stick uncomfortably to the surface of my own. it was hot. so hot that i'm sure i was sweating, that i smelled, and that i looked no where near as breathtaking as you (though i doubt i ever do, heat or not). but you still made every effort to talk to me, to apologize for the way your knee was digging into my own. i didn't mind. i don't mind anything if you're the one who's doing it.

i think it happened there in the car. falling in love with you, i mean. because the rest of the day, i was consumed with nothing but thoughts of you. and how i wish i was haechan. haechan who had you throwing back your head in laughter and haechan who had his arms wrapped around your waist. haechan who pouted when you won whatever nonsense competition was being fought out between the two of you. and the same haechan who complained, loudly, when you refused to let him change the rules for the umpteenth time. if i were in his place, playing the role of the one closest to you--of haechan--i would never complain. though i guess i can't complain now either. not as jeno. because lee jeno has had the privilege of seeing you over and over again, even if not in the same capacity as lee donghyuck (something that drives me far past the brink of jealousy).

this summer, one far removed from that summer, i find myself to still be in love with you. and the season. but more so you. always you, it seems. because despite any and all efforts to move on from my schoolboy-esque crush--i can't. or maybe i'm not truly trying all that hard. or maybe (and most likely) all it takes from you is a single glance in my direction before my heart is beating five times too fast and my stomach has dropped to my knees. i'm easy when it comes to you.

i don't seem to mind.

about jeno's love letters.

jeno's handwriting is composed of all caps. strong, sharp ends to letters with soft undersides when it comes to the curvature of their penmanship. like him, his handwriting is strong and rooted--deceptively harsh looking, only for that misinterpretation to be quelled with the sweet nothings they compose.

he writes pages upon pages about you, inspired by you, thinking of you. a diary that's only his to keep, perfect pages filled with endless sentiments and endearments. he's fairly positive that he would die if you ever saw it (and he's one hundred percent positive that he would if any of your mutual friends did). he'd much rather verbally tell you everything which he has scrawled down on the lined pages of his notebook, words only ever meant for you.

jeno hasn't confessed yet (jaemin, the only one to know about his gut wrenching crush says that he might never confess) but he's working up to it (he isn't). he has every hope that this summer, he'll finally chalk up the nerve. then again, he said the same thing last summer. and the summer before that. but this summer will be different, right?

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @firstdonutllamafarm @starjunjun @ikozen @lovesuhng @sour-chaos @jenaisnte thank you for supporting me! ♡

🧾 © 00127am 2024

#⏱ wake up! it's 00127am! #💌 letters of my love #📋 - nct dream #📋 - jeno #🖇️ love letters #nct #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct u #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #jeno #lee jeno #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #jeno drabbles #jeno fluff #jeno fanfic #jeno fic #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno x y/n #jeno nct #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct kpop

[jossujb]

I used to really like oil pastels, crayons etc, and I do genuinely enjoy the textures and stuff, but you know. All the pieces I've made with them, things that I have posted, if they were made with caryons, they're deteriorated and I've had to throw them away.

Even if I am used artist quality, cos they're really difficult to store. Even of you coat them with oil pastel fixative they'll move about.

One of the reasons why I don't really like any mediums like watercolors, gouache, pencils, graphite etc. cos like... they're so sensitive. If I don't immediately have a person to give to for I might as well bin them myself.

Not that my painting or anything else lasts that long. I've put marginally more effort into trying preserve things that I've painted on canvas, cos I've spent money on the supplies you know? But I have also taken like 15 paintings at a time and put them in the bin cos I don't have room to house them.

Woes of doing physical art I suppose. It's pleasurable sure, but I do feel like I am creating landfill trash in the long run.

I do give things away a lot, but these days postage too is so much that like, I can't afford it myself and if I were somebody, I'd rather commission something brand new and special than pay for getting things off my hands.

#jossu's random rambling

[koldinghubbard53]

Men's Suit Advice - For He Who Wears Big And Tall Clothing

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[zenruption]

Is An E-commerce Business Worth It?

If you have a brick-and-mortar store and aren’t online, you’re missing out on sales. That is pretty much the bottom line for almost any store now. More people shop online than ever before, and the industry is still snowballing in terms of growth. 

But what if you don’t have a store already? Is eCom still worth it for you? 

The answer is yes, but you have to be prepared for all of the work that comes with it. So let’s take a look at what makes eCommerce something you should be thinking about. 

Photo by Mark König on Unsplash

Competition 

A bit of competition is always healthy, but when it comes to selling in a busy market - it forces you to be creative. Thinking outside the box or throwing the box away altogether. 

Working, hiring, or partnering with companies like eComBrands.com, who can highlight all of your opportunities and make sure that you are taking advantage of them too. 

While advertising costs are increasing (because of the increase in ecom stores), you need to be smarter and more efficient. 

Dropshipping

While there are hundreds of dropshipping ‘gurus’ who will sell you the dream, dropshipping isn’t dead. In fact, it is alive and very much thriving. It is still one of the easiest ways to start an ecom store without massive overheads, without storage, and without postage costs. 

Find a couple of great niche products (choose something you are already passionate about) and use the start-up guides and wizards to help you. Before you know it, you’ll have an ecom store. 

Always keep in mind that marketing and promo are where the time and effort goes here. The profit margin on products is about 20% (higher but never lower), and you’ll need to choose high-ticket or low-ticket buyers. 

Mobile is King

Mobile hijacked the e-commerce industry a while ago, and it has really come into its own. Over 70% of purchases online in 2021 were made through smartphones. 

To make sure that you are capitalizing on e-commerce, you need to make sure that you have a mobile-optimized website. Mobile sites should be easy to use, making the process of buying a matter of three or four taps. 

If you have the money or the know-how to make sure that your website is mobile optimized, then an ecom store is worth it. 

Growth 

Over the last few years, there has been significant growth in e-commerce; a surge is the best way to describe it from 2019 onwards. That kicked off the last few years when people were less likely to head to a store. 

In the end, buying online is better for the customer in so many ways. Discounts it’s faster; they can drink a cup of tea while they show, and then they can spend hours looking at products if they want to. 

The growth of online shopping has been great for e-commerce stores, even small ones, and it is expected by 2024 that online shopping will make up about a quarter of all global sales. 

But to get ahead, you need to have a strong brand story and get yourself out there: Five Ways To Gain Brand Attention In 2023 — corruption.