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goldrushreads · 7 months

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My Favorite Books of 2023

It's been 2 months since 2023, but here are my favorite books of 2023. To be clear, these are the books I read in 2023, not books that were published in 2023. And the books are (in no particular order):

The Celebrants, by Seteven Rowley

Anyone who knows me knows how I’ve been obsessed with the idea of death. The last book by Steven Rowley that I read was The Guncle, and I loved how he tackled the idea of a loved one dying with this bittersweet angle - like the heart expands to make room for the grief in addition to all the love you have for this person. The Celebrants had the exact same effect on me.

It’s a story about six friends who met in college and made a pact- to throw each other living funerals so that they don’t doubt how much value they each held in the world. I will think about this book (like I think about The Guncle) for a very long time.

Tom Lake, by Ann Patchett

This was my very first Ann Patchett (I know!) and I just know I’ll be reading so many more books from her. It’s about young love and the fresh and gutting memory of it. It’s about parenthood and how you will never truly know about your parents. It’s about (the complexities of?) family and of relationships that you are bound by whether it be via blood or via memory. Meryl Streep needs to do more audiobooks, that's for sure!

Crying in H Mart, by Michelle Zauner

To call it a memoir about losing your mother is a disservice to the expansiveness of this book. I would call it a memoir about belonging, independence, and food. It’s also about the complicated feelings you have with your mother, especially when the mother’s worldview is very different from yours. It’s about how particular food brings out particular emotions and memories. It’s about hardship and reconciliation at a breakneck speed. What I’ll also say is: everyone was right about this book and it is truly what you should pick up if you want a good snotty cry. I should most definitely not have read it at the tail-end of my trip home. I think I’ll be haunted by the raw emotionality of this book for a long time.

Paris: The Memoir, by Paris Hilton

I don’t remember the early 2000s, and after reading this harrowing book, I am so glad I don’t remember. I also don’t remember Paris Hilton from that time and don’t know what she’s up to at any time. This is probably why I assumed it would be a pink frilly fun book, but it devastated me (girlhood!). There is a lot that needs to be said about how we treat girls and young women in our society, the expectations we have from them, and the sharpness of the steel of the knife we use to cut them open with. I thought this book is important and should be read by anyone who is fascinated by celebrity culture.

All the Lovers in the Night, by Meiko Kawakami (translated by Sam Bett and David Boyd)

Meiko Kawakami’s books always have a way to uncannily linger long after I’ve finished reading them. All the Lovers… was no different. It is a poignant narrative written in masterful prose about a copywriter in her mid-thirties living in a city where it’s difficult to form new relationships. It’s a book about the unsettling comfort of loneliness, and about feeling like your life is slipping away from you so fast that you don’t recognize the person who is staring back at you in the mirror. But then again, to me, Kawakami has always painted a vivid picture of the yearning for connection and solitude and striving and failing to find the delicate balance between the two.

Pyre, by Perumal Murugan (translated by Aniruddhan Vasudevan)

This is a sobering novel about the harsh realities of intercaste marriages and how marriages are somehow everyone’s business in India, and how everyone somehow has an opinion about the people within them. Everyone at Kumaresan’s family and village have something biting to say about Kumaresan and Saroja’s marriage. You always think that the annoying little remarks and the constant nagging and scornful quips are trivial, but they simmer until they burn into a pyre. And that’s where Perumal Murugan’s excellent writing (and Aniruddhan Vasudevan’s seemingly-effortless translation) shines.

Teen Couple Have Fun Outdoors, by Aravind Jayan

This is a novel about the aftermath of an illegally-shot video of Sreenath and his girlfriend Anita posted on an adult website(s) and going viral. Where do you (and your families and friends) go from there?

I’ll be quite honest, I initially did not think of this book as one of my absolute favorites from the year. But it seeped in slowly- I periodically kept thinking about the book. The author has somehow perfectly captured the sense of annoyance you feel when dealing with an arrogant young adult who thinks they know everything, the always-present tangible tension between siblings, and the absolutely wretched and unsympathetic allure of other people’s mistakes and misfortunes.

Ducks, by Kate Beaton

I first read Ducks because I loved Kate Beaton’s hilarious comics about Jane Austen. I don’t think that prepared me, because Ducks is about Alberta’s oil rush. I don’t know how to talk about a graphic novel about what seemed to me the most boring thing on earth- working in your twenties in an oil sand. And yet, this one is gripping in a very bleak way. Beaton is one of the very few women in a freezing-cold and isolated camp. She has just graduated from college with an arts degree and massive debt. She comes from an area where people have to leave to other places in order to make a living. I don’t know how anyone can write about this experience, let alone draw and create a graphic memoir.

Uncanny Valley, by Anna Weiner

At the height of the tech boom, Anna Weiner leaves a job in publishing for one in a big-data start-up. The bubble seems surreal and extravagant and abundant at first and from a distance. And then comes disillusionment. I’ll tell you it had me sat! I am always so fascinated by culture and tech, and this one scratched all my itches about a non-tech role in a tech space. As someone who grew up surrounded by tech people who love behaving like just studying engineering in some unknown college makes them god’s gift to earth, this book just felt oh-so-familiar.

Palo Alto, by Malcom Harris

I just wanted a light book about California, but this was just the opposite of it, in an excellent way. (I am entirely at fault here; who reads the subtitle “A History of California, Capitalism, and the World” and thinks, oh yeah, light reading?). I came out enraged at everything and everyone. I wish there were more history books with this level of analysis and expertly-crafted narrative, because it was so gripping. I was not bored once, even though it was a 720-page tome. Riveting stuff.

Shubeik Lubeik, by Deena Mohamed

Shubeik Lubeik is a gorgeous graphic novel with magical elements woven so effortlessly and seamlessly that I know I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about this book for a long time. In the novel’s world, wishes (like wishes from a genie in the bottle) are real. However, these wishes are monetized and commodified as a part of a quintillion-dollar industry. What happens when wishes can be licensed by world governments, have a frustrating bureaucratic process, and mirror the all-too-familiar prejudices ingrained in our society? What if you could pool your resources to buy a wish to use literal dragons as a war weapon? Shubeik Lubeik is exasperating and heartwarming- exactly what it sets out to be.

Heartstopper: Volume 5, by Alice Oseman

What do I even say about Heartstopper that hasn’t been said a million times? I love this universe so much and I am so upset that it ends soon. What do you mean Heartstopper cannot go on and on indefinitely?! These books have been filling me with so much tenderness and joy since I’ve been seeing snippets of them back in the day. My heart is always brimming when I am reading these books- I want these characters to be so happy forever. The plotline in this book hit me a bit too hard that I wanted to sob, but Alice Oseman being Alice Oseman dealt with these themes with so much consideration and affection that I physically could not sob. Instead, I felt calm and affirmed. And that is a typical Heartbreaker reading experience for you.

Shout out to my local public library and the Libby app for making it available to me the day it was published! Lifesavers! I was in anguish thinking I’d have to wait the estimated 10 weeks!

#book review #book reccs #book recommendations #long reads #reading #queer books #bookblr #book haul #libby app #books #book roundup #tbr list #grab bag #12 books #book club #gold rush reads

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siriuslyreads · 2 years

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Crave by Tracy Wolff: A Review

Title: Crave

Series: Crave, Book 1

Author: Tracy Wolff

Genre: YA Supernatural/Paranormal Romance

Rating: 3/5 Stars

Release Date: April 7, 2020

Format: Audiobook

Synopsis:

My whole world changed when I stepped inside the academy. Nothing is right about this place or the other students in it. Here I am, a mere mortal among gods…or monsters. I still can’t decide which of these warring factions I belong to, if I belong at all. I only know the one thing that unites them is their hatred of me.

Then there’s Jaxon Vega. A vampire with deadly secrets who hasn’t felt anything for a hundred years. But there’s something about him that calls to me, something broken in him that somehow fits with what’s broken in me.

Which could spell death for us all.

Because Jaxon walled himself off for a reason. And now someone wants to wake a sleeping monster, and I’m wondering if I was brought here intentionally—as the bait.

Review (with potential spoilers):

Think Twilight, meets Harry Potter, but not in a good way? I struggled with this one. The dialogue is very very juvenile, and the plot is pretty predictable. I stuck it out, and am currently waiting to read the second book, but I could have skipped this and still been happy with my life.

Let’s look at the characters first:

First, we have Grace, newly an orphan, she moves to the middle-of-nowhere Alaska ot live with her uncle and cousin at a boarding school

The cousin: Macy. Honestly, I love Macy. The first time we meet her she is open and warm and loving to her cousin who is grieving and very much does NOT want to be in Alaska.

Then, Jaxon, one guess as to who the love interest is. Did you guess Jaxon? You would be correct. This is mr sexy AF himself (gods it killed me to write that). Jaxon is like every other annoying, over possessive, way too hot for a teenager, #bookboyfriend. He’s nothing special tbh.

Flint, oh Flint. I love you, Flint. You deserved more than the way you were written. Flint is written to be Macy’s endgame, that much is obvious from early on. He is also meant to cause a strife between Grace and Jaxon. That’s all he is given in the book and honestly, he deserves more.

Lia…Lia from the first moment we meet her gave bad vibes.

These character exist at Katmere, a secluded school in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. The worldbuilding for this was a major plus for me. I do wish we saw more of it, instead of seeing all the Jaxon pining, but I digress. I loved the idea of a secluded school; it’s always been a favorite of mine. I mean I loved Hogwarts as a child and the Scholomance is one of my favorites now. I loved the Alaskan setting. It was interesting to get even a little bit of it. There were brief mentions from Grace of the indigenous peoples of Alaska and their languages and cultures, but none of it was explored. I hope in the latter books there is some explorations of this.

Another portion of the world building is the supernaturals. Grace is pretty stupid, and she knows something is up, but refuses to ask about it and refuses to investigate it. She is blind to the vampires, shifters, dragons, and witches around her. But, when she does find out, she just accepts it. I highly doubt that would have been anyone’s reaction, but alrighty then. The school, Katmere, is actually a school for supernaturals. This means that there are constant conflicts between the various factions and those factions don’t really mix. Again, there was not a whole lot of exploration as to these different beings and how they interact, what powers they have, etc. How can there be a 600 page book lacking in these world building things? Don’t ask me, ask the author.

The story was not bad. But it wasn’t great. The romance was pretty basic and YA, she falls in love with him after merely days and of course he loves her back (after warning her off multiple times a la Edward Cullen). The villain is pretty obvious to see, there is a red herring to try to draw attention away. But is it really a red herring if that person is ALSO trying to kill Grace?

Ok, I confess, I don’t have much to say about the story itself. If you took the ‘romance’ and pining out of this book, it would be about 150 pages, and honestly it might be better for it. I am very conflicted on this book. I have read spoilers for the latter books and that is the ONLY reason I stuck with it and did not DNF this, so I guess you could say I am biased.

Don’t read this, or do. It’s not terrible, it’s not great. I really hope the second book is better.

#crave series #tracy wolff #jaxon vega #yabooks #grace #flint #macy #lia #ya romance

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warblingandwriting · 8 months

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I was not into The Archive Undying

I had a hard time reading this book - and full disclosure I DNF'ed it, I just couldn't keep going, so if you're a fan feel free to not read this. It's more of a vent/rant because I don't have any other way to get my thoughts about it out.... and I have Thoughts. The book, to me, is indicative of a lot of stuff I dislike in modern writing so I just want to get a few thoughts out here.

Personal Gripes:

Written in the present tense: I simply dislike it in a story, I mush prefer past tense, and present tense just sounds sort of... wrong to me. On top this, I think the present tense contributes to what felt rushed about the story to me, bypassing really interesting plot/worldbuilding elements without explaining them was annoying in and of itself, and the choice of present tense compounded this issue for me, that I'll talk about more in depth later.

MC and his voice: I’m not a fan of the main character and his voice. Honestly a lot of it really feels like the author wanted to write an anti hero, but was afraid that the Online folks would come for her for having an unlikable main character so she constantly explicitly states that there is something deeper beneath his veneer of unkindness. Something I neither needed to know nor cared about, at least, at the beginning of the story. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so clumsy, with the main character often directly thinking things like about how he’s worried that he has the urge to be nice to people etc. Obviously this isn’t the only book to do that, but I don’t enjoy it so it goes in the personal gripes section. I also just don’t enjoy the way the characters are written in general, at least at this point they all have very similar voices, and those voices feel very ‘today modern’ for a book set in the future. It’s just in the cadence of their dialogue, but it irks me a bit.

General Gripes:

Show and Tell: The book sort of does too good of a job of trying to show and not tell when it comes to the world, and the opposite when it comes to the characters. Like Sunai’s constant, very direct thoughts about how he is this or that (for a loner who doesn’t like to think he’s awfully good at dissecting his own emotions), the other characters get similar treatment where we’re often told very directly what they’re thinking or feeling. Admittedly this is a bit personal, as I do prefer books that are a bit more subtle, wherein characters often can’t state their direct feelings because they don’t know or totally understand them. But as it is I feel like I have a very narrow idea of what Candon’s (really interesting!) world is like, but I already know everything about her characters.

For a high concept sci-fi novel like this I would expect (and prefer) a focus on worldbuilding first, with the characters remaining obscure, getting to know them as the book went on, while at the same time getting a solid view of the world in the beginning so that as the story goes on I need less explanations. This is not helped by the book being written in the third person, since the omniscient narrator could just explain things without the (alleged) immersion breaking problem of characters explaining things they should already know to each other. It frankly feels like another preemptive reaction to a criticism I see a lot online around explaining worldbuilding. Many people want it to be organic, to just be thrown into a world and figure it out, and while I think that works in certain books with less complex worlds (something like The Mortal Engines comes to mind), in this book there is simply too much going on for the slapdash ‘the main character says something and you infer from there’ style of exposition Candon goes for. It feels like when someone has read and re-read their own novel so many times they forget which details are extraneous and which are vital to a first time reader.

Clunky events: The way things happen in this book also feels very clunky to me, like the pacing seems off. The first time I noticed this was in chapter one, when Sunai, who has awoken on a strange brage, decides to go talk to the captain to see what’s going on, as he was blackout drunk the last night, and doesn’t remember how or why he’s here. It’s written like this:

“...goes to track down the rig’s captain. He finds her near the head of the rig...” he just... goes to look for her and finds her. At this point I don't know if the rig travels by air, land, or water, no idea what the layout might be, and only the vaguest idea of what it’s purpose is. When I read the first sentence I figured I was probably about to get some explanation of how he gets to the spot the captain is in, some idea of what the rig is, it’s happening during a tense scene where Sunai has spotted the AI So-Beloved, so I presume Candon wanted to keep it fast paced for ensuing battle, but for me it didn’t work here. I would have preferred a bit of an info dump, because I genuinely think Candon has created a complex and interesting world here, I just wish I had understood it. I think this sequence may have worked better if Sunai had gone to find the captain, uncertain of why he was there, and had to walk around the rig a bit to find her, giving the reader a better idea of what exactly this rig is, and it's layout. And then spotted the AI from the captain’s window, and have the battle ensue from there to give a little time for explanations. Granted, I don’t need everything perfectly spelled out for me, but a little context would have helped.

Clunky writing: This was pretty mild, but mixed with everything else it felt like a major crutch in this novel. Candon’s writing is often simply redundant, which may seem counter-intuitive to what I’ve just been saying, but specifically, once again, she is redundant about character thoughts and feelings, and small details that didn’t need to be explained, while she’ll fly over a really interesting idea once, and then hardly ever return to it. Early in the novel, a character notes that in one lanaguage, the word for ‘archivist’ was a synonym for ‘vital organs’ that’s interesting! I wish she had actually made up a new word in this fictional language instead of always using 'archivist'. But we need to heard about how conflicted Sunai is over Veyadi 20 times a chapter.

Frankly, I think in spite of the seemingly complex world, Candon was more interested in her characters than her ideas, and for me, that is a writing style that demands a less complex world, something more recognizable. Or, perhaps, a longer book that took a little more time with itself to explore both. A mix of the personal and general grievances I had led to me not really liking this book, and I must admit my guard goes up every time I read something that seems to have been written to anticipate criticisms I see a lot on goodreads, especially when they’re criticisms I don’t necessarily agree with.

#my writing #reviews #book review #my thoughts #sci-fi #science fiction #science fiction novels

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maiathebee · 2 years

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Lots of the same complaints about Persuasion keep popping up (modern language, girl boss-ification) but it’s so much more than that so here are all my thoughts on the worst bits (I know all complaining does is generate buzz but what else am I gonna do with my Sunday night??):

Out of jealousy in the first like 2 minutes in Wentworth’s presence, Anne brings up (in front the musgroves and crofts and wentworth) that Charles wanted to marry her first. This basically establishes her as just as self-centered and narcissistic as her sisters?? Making things worse for literally everyone?? By acting like a teenager? Insane and embarrassing for the characters and hurtful to anyone who likes Anne Elliot.

Absolutely horrendous editing. In one scene she complains about something Wentworth said the night before, but he didn’t say it on film so it’s confusing as to if she’s misremembering?? In multiple scenes they’ve added dialogue over scenes where you can literally see their lips NOT moving, but they have spoken lines? (for instance, 35:49). It feels like a Hallmark film. Embarassing for the filmmakers. I hate the idiotic conversation in which Anne is surprised to find Louisa thinks she’s not interested in Wentworth (despite constantly avoiding him), and then Louisa saying “you barely look at him” when they’ve been in the same place one time??? and Anne looked at him the WHOLE time??? Like did ANY single person check this film for continuity?? When Mary makes Anne leave Lyme so that Anne can care for the children? But then Anne doesn’t go in the house and she says she has to go to Bath? ??? What?

This film offers literally no breathing space at all. There is no contemplation, tension, or think time. Conversations threat together at a breakneck pace. They cut bits of the text that are funny and interesting and added totally weird and unnecessary scenes. I have to listen to Anne turn to the camera like a Love Island confessional? (Pro Tip: if your lead’s accent is passable at best, maybe don’t give them extended solo monologues throughout the film). Also, all the added Mary Being Annoying scenes? also that scene at the beach?? who wrote that??? a computer in the 90s?? A piece of barely sentient cardboard??

Louisa and Anne’s VERY weird relationship. They’ve turned Louisa into this weird antagonistic love rival? I hate it here.

They constantly refer to the fact that Wentworth is without title or riches, but NEVER talk about how Lady Russell didn’t want Anne to marry a dude whose job could quickly widow her?? I get that they don’t want to go into the class dynamics of the baronetcy etc, but being a sailor = easy death shouldn’t be too intellectually complex?

The film has borrowed SO much visually from 2008 version. So many scenes are framed almost exactly the same way. This is not the beautiful big sweeping cinematic portrayal of this film I wanted. It’s just a made-for-tv movie :(

WHY would you make a British period drama and have everyone call each other by their first names?? NEVER bow in greeting??? Have Anne have hair that isn’t even MODERN but actually dated to about 2008?? Anne swimming alone at the beach? Men and women just alone in private all the time?

Dakota Johnson wearing thick ass mascara, glittery eye shadow and a beret.

The constant one-on-one conversations between Anne and Wentworth...... In the book when they’re in Bath and they finally have (somewhat) private conversations it’s like a WHOLE THING. Instead here they’ve just written expository fanfiction? Again, the scene at the beach honestly SO bad. “I didn’t know when I’d ever see you again, or if you’d know how much I cared.” “I think I always knew. There’s no one quite like you.” That isn’t a conversation. It also doesn’t follow any of the vibe we’ve had to that point. Wentworth is already 100% down for Anne again? I’m sorry? The people who wrote this movie missed the memo that the book is literally about struggling with the idea you don’t know what’s going on in another person’s mind. It’s about tension. It’s about figuring out where people are coming from through their actions. It’s about REacquainting yourself with a person. Not just constantly word vomiting every single thought you have at every moment. “I genuinely hope you find love.” KILL ME “You want to know a secret?” “Always” I love this mature love story about two 90s grade schoolers. The scene in the carriage where Wentworth goes on about him knowing Louisa was infatuated... I’m sorry but for a man who so readily and openly reflects on his wrongdoing and pride WHY did it take him 8 years to see Anne??? Make it make sense. “One can only imagine what our lives might have been” it’s like exposition that is incorrectly expositing... How does her getting injured get him out of their relationship>>>>????? this is a MAIN plot point of the story!!

Making Anne and him have conversations about his job and how she wants him to pursue a promotion. Imperialism :( Capitalism :( Girlboss :( “What would Anne do here?” “There I go, trying to protect you again” ............................................uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh

“You’re always best in an emergency” I love when movies tell me things instead of showing me things, thanks!

Anne constantly rejoicing in schadenfreude... weird! gross! There’s a lot of great schadenfreude in the text, but it’s not played out in the form of Anne like... rejoicing in her own family being embarrassed

The constant comedy piano in the background like a Hallmark film

The way this film spent almost nothing on set design, filming as much as possible outdoors. Their house in Bath is in the crescent?? And they haven’ t even fancied it up, it looks straight up like a street in Bath in the 2020s. They don’t even properly film her going through the door! SIGH!

I knew they wouldn’t keep in Ms. Smith but I do maintain it’s not a Persuasion adaptation without her... like the way her character is ESSENTIAL to the class commentary/whole point of novel...

Imagine being literally unable to write an interesting yet smart woman. Our female character wants to insert an irreverent icebreaker? How about her awkward octopus dream? And then we’ll make it into a sexual innuendo!! That way the teens will like our film probably

The scene with her breaking down in the bathtub is like a glimpse into the movie they thought they were making? “Anne Elliot who suffered cosmic loss but really held it together,” a film about someone who thinks they’re graceful and dignified but is actually a pathetic mess. It’s such a filmy person interpretation. Like a movie person who read persuasion and was like... someone who dealt with grief by going inward? hmmm sounds like a drama queen lying to themselves!!!

Anne babbling “He’s quite charming” “He makes me laugh” with literally no prompting as if she’s the FL in a self-insert fanfic. Mr. Elliot flirting with Anne in front of Wentworth like the second lead of a self-insert fanfic. “I do hope you’ll be able to make it to the wedding” like a disney villain (I’m sorry but this film literally has never heard the word subtle, let alone ache pine yearn)(there is NO push, no pull, no moment where they HALF hope, no moment where they are half in agony)

Mr. Eliot inviting Wentworth to the concert and not Anne

Anne awkwardly waving to Wentworth in period gloves at the concert because no one bows in this movie (I’m sorry but like..................... this is so dumb)

Anne crying during the opera scene as if there was any fucking gravitas or pathos available from this film for me to care. I have NEVER watched a Persuasion remake where this scene did not KILL me. (A few minutes, though as few as possible, were inevitably consumed; and when her own mistress again, when able to turn and look as she had done before, she found herself accosted by Captain Wentworth, in a reserved yet hurried sort of farewell. "He must wish her good night; he was going; he should get home as fast as he could.""Is not this song worth staying for?" said Anne, suddenly struck by an idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging."No!" he replied impressively, "there is nothing worth my staying for;" and he was gone directly.Jealousy of Mr Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive. Captain Wentworth jealous of her affection! Could she have believed it a week ago; three hours ago! For a moment the gratification was exquisite. But, alas! there were very different thoughts to succeed. How was such jealousy to be quieted? How was the truth to reach him? How, in all the peculiar disadvantages of their respective situations, would he ever learn of her real sentiments? It was misery to think of Mr Elliot's attentions. Their evil was incalculable.) The way this movie has zoomed past all these emotions or stalled before reaching them at every turn. This scene is seriously just a copy of the 2008 version but it’s bad! No “There is nothing worth my staying for”

exchanging “when all hope is lost” for “when hope is gone” -- a truly minor yet truly offensive change. “Your love has not lasted as long as mine” “and I don’t think I ever will” ................. me reading the modern english translation of shakespeare in high school

Anne seeing Wentworth’s letter all the way across the room with her spidery senses

The theatre monologue recitation of the letter

The way the letter scene/running through Bath thing is almost exactly like the 2008 movie except I don’t care.... Anne could be hit by a carriage and I would barely notice a change of pace

Honestly we can just show the Mrs. Clay Mr. Elliot make out scene and be done with it and know this film is a farce. (I ran out of the inn searching for Mr. Wentworth when!!! I saw MR. ELLIOT locking TONGUES with the slut MrS. CLaY! In broad daylight in public on the street in the town where I also am!!! “Anne!” he yelped in surprise. I could tell he was so sad I found him out! :( He does love me. But what he doesn’t know is that I love Mr. Wentworth even more!) “I wish you both every happiness” *shrug* Me: SIGH

The way they built up to this climax with her running to him and then it was just ...long awkward pause before kiss... I don’t think most of the problems in this film are Dakota Johnson’s fault but she is not great at creating onscreen chemistry and I don’t understand why she is continually cast as romantic leads

This weird “some love is reeeeeeeally weird” voiceover over a marriage between Henry Golding’s character and the only fat person ever on screen in this film

Why does she wink at the end of the film?

Things I liked:

Mary calling herself an Empath

When Louisa fell it felt so hard I literally gasped

Lady Russell actually being fun and likeable

Anne’s hat at the pastry shop in bath (all her other clothes are boring or suck)(it still looked dumb with her emo girl bangs and eyeliner)

#persuasion #persuasion 2022

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

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could you do the anxious tics prompt with fo3 and new vegas companions? sorry, i think i’ve asked you to add characters a lot but i just really love your writing ^^”

FO3 and FONV Romanced! Companions react to Lone's/Six's Anxiety Tics

Here you are, my love. Please never feel bad about requesting more people! It's honestly what I live for, and I loooooove making content for the FO3 and NV folks, since I feel like there's a lot less written about them in general 😊

So thank you so much for the ask!

Here is the prompt with FO4 Companions!

FO3

Butch:

The flash of large red-framed letters had caught Butch’s attention as the pair stood waiting to speak to Doc Church outside his clinic in Megaton. “Whatcha got there, babe?” he had asked, before realizing that it was, in fact, exactly what he had thought. Lone blushed as they looked up at him, hiding behind the pages of their comic book. “You really kept that? After all these years?” They had nodded to him, explaining that it was a sort of security blanket for them, that they could always count on reading the same story, seeing the same happy ending each time they looked between the pages, each time they felt uncertainty or stress, they could count on Grognak to see them through it. He grinned whenever he saw them with it, often curling up beside them, or leaning his head on their shoulder to try and read along with them. In these cases, Lone had to read the pages slower than they normally would, reading the same comic book over and over for the last 10 years means you can skim through it pretty quickly, but they don’t really seem to mind. Now they get to watch as this person that they care so much for enjoys the comic book they relied on and adored for so long.

Charon:

The ghoul was curious about Lone’s tendency to nap directly after dealing with stressful situations, but he decided not to voice any inquiries. His companion would explain themself if they wanted him to know more. One day, they did. Lone had thanked him for always looking after them while they rested off their anxiety, and mentioned that it was something they couldn’t help. Charon had nodded at them, acknowledging their gratitude, before his blue eyes had narrowed in his effort to process the rest of what they had said. It seemed strange to him, sleeping off nerves... Wouldn’t that make it more difficult to sleep? He decided that the logic of it didn’t really matter, whatever it was that caused it, he would look after his partner as they took the time to rest. Soon enough, they would beckon for him to join them, leaning against his shoulder or laying their head in his lap as he kept watch over them. A scarred hand would come to run softly through their hair, or graze lightly over their arm as they dreamed away their anxieties alongside their watchful partner.

Clover:

Lone wasn't quite sure why, but it seemed to them that Clover was always so handsy whenever they became anxious. They had to admit, they didn't necessarily mind it, but she always seemed to get frisky at the most inopportune times. Meanwhile, Clover just can't seem to figure out why Lone is always casting hints her way in the middle of stressful situations. She gets it, she totally is picking up what Lone is putting down every time they draw their bottom lip between their teeth and gnaw away so suggestively, but do they really have to do that right now?! Once Clover finds out it's just Lone's way of coping with their anxiety, she feels sort of foolish… but that doesn't stop her from getting a little turned on whenever Lone does it, even though the timing is usually inconvenient for both of them. But after the trouble and stress has passed, Lone will certainly need to blow off some steam, right? If that’s the case, Clover is more than ready for it.

Cross:

Cross often noticed when Lone had trouble focusing, she tends not to miss a thing, especially when it comes to her Lone. When she sees her partner struggling to keep their attention trained on the person speaking to them, she usually will step in and ask if the person can speak to her companion again at a later time. Her direct and clear way of speaking is a relief for Lone when they are experiencing tension, as their listening becomes almost ineffective when they are being spoken to during times of high stress or anxiety. Paladin Cross understands this, and pays particular attention to speak slowly and with great care in these times. Due to her affinity for speaking this way normally, she and Lone tend to never have issues with communication; which evidently, tends to keep Lone from becoming anxious when they’re around their partner.

Fawkes:

Within his first couple weeks of traveling alongside Lone, the mutant noticed their need to constantly snack. When he decided to inquire about it, and they hesitantly explained their habit to stress eat, he wasn’t sure he understood it, but he knew that he had his own ways of dealing with his nerves, which came in the form of wringing his hands whenever he became anxious. So, if this is how Lone deals with it, he will accept it without question. It wasn’t until one fateful day, when Lone had realized they were completely out of snacking material and they were on the brink of a breakdown, that they realized Fawkes had taken their words to heart, as he reached out a large hand, filled to the brim with an assortment of their favorite snacks from one of his pockets. All this time they thought he only kept ammunition in there, turns out, their partner always had a well-stocked stash of their anxiety-repellent hidden away for cases just like these. They smiled coyly as they took a box of snack cakes, and a tin of crisps, settling down beside Fawkes as he lightly ran his hand up and down their back as they leaned into him, their breathing already beginning to return to normal with each passing moment.

Jericho:

The ex-raider always thought it was a little annoying, the way his companion would stutter at him every time something got dicey, or when they had to deal with some sort of verbal confrontation. It was painful to watch, and when he brought it up to them, and they stuttered back an embarrassed response, he realized it was well out of their control. It would still bug him, and he might make an off-handed comment about it every once in a while, but the more he saw that those comments weren’t funny to his partner, the more they glared at him as he laughed at his own rude jokes, he decided he should refrain from such talk. Lone hadn’t developed a thick skin like most wastelanders he was used to, and certainly not like most raiders; and he would have to constantly remind himself of that. After his realization, he wouldn’t say a word about their stutter again, and God help anyone who did. You mention his partner’s stutter, you’ll probably have one too by the time he’s done with you. If you still even have a tongue, that is.

FONV:

Arcade:

The doctor almost flinched at the feeling of Six’s fingers wrapping around his thumb the first time they did it, but he managed to keep his composure and simply utter a sarcastic comment in response to their sudden action. But when their stress passed, and they explained that it was a tic of theirs that they had trouble controlling, he immediately understood. Not only was he a doctor (so you know, he has pretty extensive knowledge regarding things of this nature) but he’s also had his own lovely tangles with anxiety in the past, and can’t really blame Six for their habit (despite the fact that he has absolutely no tics of his own to deal with). However, his understanding of it doesn’t mean he isn’t going to make some sort of humorous comment on the action whenever it occurs. At Six’s annoyed expression he says that he is simply trying to lighten the mood a bit, maybe distract them with his humorous musings. Six thinks he must not have a clue that he exercises his own coping mechanism (ahem, sarcasm) whenever their gesture makes him uncomfortable, so they end up trying to keep themself from grasping onto his thumb to the best of their abilities. But, to be honest, they’re relieved when Arcade begins reaching over his hand to them in times of stress, his eyes avoiding theirs, and his comments going unuttered, but his thumb extending outward to allow easy access nonetheless. This gesture usually results in a kiss on the cheek for the doctor when his partner has gotten through their bout of stress.

Boone:

He had noticed it when he first met the courier, the way they couldn't look him in the eye. Boone hadn't been sure if it was just him, considering his constant need to wear sunglasses and his somewhat stoic demeanor, or if it was the way they were with everyone, but either way, he didn’t mind in the slightest. When he found that it was a result of their anxiety, he simply nodded to them in understanding, and the pair went on their way. The sniper honestly wasn’t big on direct eye contact himself, another boon of wearing sunglasses was being able to keep your eyes trained wherever you liked, and so people tended not to notice his own habit of avoiding eye contact with them. He threw the idea out to Six one night, and soon enough the pair wore matching sunglasses nearly all the time. And though, as he said, he didn’t mind Six’s habit one bit, the knowledge that they only looked people in the eye when they felt completely comfortable and at ease with them made it all the more special when they did decide to look into his eyes when the pair was talking, or sharing a tender moment. In those little instances, Boone liked to study the details of his partner’s eyes, committing their warm and vibrant glow to memory, paying distinct attention to their unique shape, and the way their pupils dilated as they gazed back at him. He only wondered if they noticed his eyes doing the same in return as he took in the details of the one he loved.

Cass:

The caravaner always tends to offer some form of alcohol to Six whenever she sees their leg shaking in such a way. Cass is familiar with the side effects of withdrawal when she sees them, and she'll try to help her partner to the nearest drink as soon as she can. When Six finally asks her about why it is that she offers alcohol to them when they’re feeling stressed, mentioning that it maaaaaay not be the most healthy coping mechanism for anxiety, she is a bit confused. They were anxious!? Strange, she only tends to shake like that when she hasn't had a drink in a while. With the knowledge that it’s a nervous tic of theirs, Cass uses it to her advantage to better tell when her partner needs to take a load off, or blow off some steam. At the sight of their leg thrumming away, she’ll give their thigh a pat to get their attention, and then ask if there’s anything she can do to help them. As luck would have it, a stiff drink does tend to give Six the time to calm their nerves, so that trend isn’t completely abandoned once Cass has found out the truth about Six’s habit.

Raul:

"What's the matter, boss? Can’t find the right word? Lo siento, mi corazón, English isn't my best language, but I can try and help if you want." Raul is… confused at first. Whenever Six snaps their fingers, he can't seem to figure out if they're trying to find the right word to say, or if they happen to be looking for something, maybe they're trying to keep time, or make a beat? Maybe they’re counting something, trying to remember a phrase? Once they tell him it’s just a nervous tic they have, Raul looks a little embarrassed at the fact that he didn’t assume this earlier on. The ghoul tries not to pay much attention to his partner’s habit, since he knows it must make them a little self conscious when people point it out, but sometimes he can't help but snap along, trying to make a little song to go along with their own improvised rhythm. When Six does finally notice his contribution, Raul just likes to wink at them in response, flashing a playful little smile as they blush in embarrassment at the fact that he caught them doing their nervous tic.

Veronica:

When Veronica noticed that her partner had pierced ears, she was ecstatic. Ecstatic, and jealous. She always wanted to pierce her ears, to find or make her own pretty little earrings to decorate herself with, but alas, ear piercings were certainly not within the limits of Brotherhood dress and decorum. Given her interest in them, it’s no surprise that she noticed the way Six twisted the backs between their fingers, twiddling the bits of jewelry absent-mindedly whenever they became stressed or nervous. Often times, Veronica would reach a hand out to gently pry their fingers from their earring, pulling their hand to her lips so she could give it a small kiss before bringing it to settle somewhere else, to keep them from damaging the little bits of jewelry in their ears that she envied so much.

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spideymarvelws · 4 years

Text

had so much fun writing the first scene dude... i feel like as a fanfic writer its a sin i haven’t written anything like it yet lmfaoo (to be fair i probably have but I just dont rem💀) anyways i hope you enjoy!

REPOST BECAUSE OF TAGS!!!

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Prompt : 9. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Warnings : just some cute floof, some cursing here and there

Word Count : 2.2k

Hesitation

Technoblade x GN!Reader

It was always peaceful in the tundra right before the sun set. Not only did the orange and red colours that reflected off the shiny snow send a wave of tranquility through the lands. It was a specific time where all the animals would go back into their homes before the mobs spawned at night fall, leaving the lands in complete silence.

Phil loved working at this time, getting small tasks done around the house that he wasn’t able to do throughout the day. Whether it was washing the dishes or dusting out the book shelves. Maybe even lounged around near the fireplace, planning out what he had to do the next day. It was always quiet, void of distractions to keep him from doing them.

But of course, with peace always came chaos.

“YOU CHEATED!”

“NO I DIDN’T!”

“YES YOU DID!”

The door cracked open, slamming against the wall behind it making the blonde jump from the sudden noise. He was ready to pick up his sword by his side until he recognised the voices of his house mates, shouting like little children.

Phil sighed, continuing to wash the dishes in front of him. While the bickering tended to amuse him at times, right then he just wanted to stay in the silence. He was quick to grab a pear of earplugs from his chest, pushing them snugly into his ear, blocking out the noise you both brought into the house while humming a small tune.

“There’s no way that your horse is faster that Carl! That’s just not possible!” Techno shook his head, his entire body still except for his left foot tapping consistently on the floor, “It’s just not possible.”

“Okay-” you pointed your finger in his face, “First off, her name is Raven and secondly, you just can’t admit that she’s better than Carl.” you crossed your arms on your chest, looking up at the piglin with teasing eyes.

Tech threw his head back with a groan, turning around gruffly and taking off his cape along with the skull mask covering his face.

“I won’t admit it because it isn't true!” he turned back to face you, mimicking your stance and tilting his head slightly to the side.

You raised your eyebrows at his response, nodding slowly, “Alright, alright,” you slowly took of your cloak, bunching it up and throwing it at him, his reflexes catching it before the fabric hit his chest, “Maybe it’s just the ridder and not the horse.”

Techno gasped, “You take that back.” he threw your cloak to the side.

You hummed, looking up and faking a thinking face, “Nah... I don’t think I will, I said what I said.” you stepped closer to the hybrid, sizing up his figure, “And what are you going to do about it?”

Techno squinted his eyes, a small smirk making its way to his face before he grabbed you by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from the entrance into the living room.

“Hey!” You pounded at his back, wiggling in his tight grip, “Put me down you loaf!”

He laughed at your words but obliged, throwing you on the couch near the fireplace. Before you could sit up, he crawled over your form, knee besides one side of your waist with his other foot planted on the floor, keeping him steady hovering over you.

“Techno-” you chuckled nervously, trying your best not to stray away from his intense gaze, fighting the heat starting to rise to your face. Your hands pushed at his chest, weakening when he brought his face closer to yours, making you feel smaller than you already were.

He didn’t say anything, instead his fingers dug into your stomach, wiggling them across the fabric of your shirt. Your laugher filled the air, high pitched and bouncing off the walls of the cottage. You tried your best to control them, not wanting to give in to the blood god’s actions so quickly. But your hands on your stomach did nothing to stop his.

“Oh. My. God! Techno! Stop you fucking- oh god!”

“Take it back Y/n!” he laughed along with you, continuing his assault on your stomach, “Take it back or I swear to god you’re going to loose a canon life from being too ticklish.”

“NEVER!” you shouted between laugher, screaming when his hands began to move faster, knocking the breath out of your lungs. In the heat of the moment, he took your wrists into his fist, pinning them above your head, keeping your hands from interfering with his plans.

“Say. It.” even with one hand we was doing enough to keep you squirming underneath him, desperate for an escape.

“Okay! Okay! You- You’re a good rider Techno! You’re a good rider!” you finally admitted, your body falling limp against the cushions when he finally raised his fingers from your stomach.

Techno laughed at your state, leaning back with a cocky smirk on his face, “Glad to know we could come to an agreement,”

“I hate you,” you mumbled, your head rolling to the side on your shoulder as you caught your breath. You closed eyes in relief that the past few minutes were over, nearly falling asleep with the amount of energy you spent laughing.

Techno chuckled, taking your chin into his fingers, turning your head to look back at him, “Is that so?”

You nodded, fluttering your eyes open to look up at the pink haired man. Your breath hitched when you noticed how close his face was to yours. His entire presence felt suddenly close, his chest puffed out with long breaths, his legs practically tangled with yours, his face hovering over you, radiating heat you didn’t notice while he was tickling you. You watched as his face lit up red, his piglin ears straightening out of the side of his head, probably taking in the proximity as well.

Techno wasn’t one to get flustered often, but when he did it was always with the people he cared about. He trusted them enough to let that blood god persona he put on fade away leaving behind his shy, nerdy side you always adored. The side of techno who would read by the fireplace with Steve sat snuggly in his lap, the Techno who would spend hours trying to fix his glasses that broke constantly in his strong grip only having to craft a new one. The Techno who would grumble about compliments from you and Phil but the subtle spread of pink across his face told everyone otherwise. The Techno you grew to love the more and more he let you it.

He began to get a lot more playful with you as you friendship grew. When you moved in with him out in the snow it only increased drastically. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the both of you to end up in this position or something similar to it (like the time he pinned you down during training), but he would always stop before things got too intimate and while it hurt, you’ve grown to accept it. You were glad to be his friend, his companion. You would take his friendship over not knowing him at all any time of the day.

You waited for him to pull back. To stand up and dust off his clothes, offering you his hand to pull you up with him and continue that night like normal. But he stayed, his dark, dull eyes staying down at you with a shine you’ve never seen up close before.

Techno didn’t know what to do either. He didn’t know what was prompted him to stay in this position, the sudden confidence that pushed him to keep his hand on your face, his lips so close to yours. Maybe it was the voices in his head, annoyed with the constant stares and thoughts of adoration when you rode Raven around in the snow, your cape flowing beautifully behind you, face showing nothing but pure joy. They were relentless, calling him out on every emotion he was feeling because of you.

He wanted to move for your sake, he was the one on top of you in the first place, pinning you down. You were probably being polite not shoving him off of you, even if you’ve never done it before, he just always pulled away before you could. But he couldn’t, his muscles stiff and unable to move.

A small part of his brain told him you wanted this too, but he ignored it for his own sanity.

“Techno-” you whispered but before you could continue, the hybrid immediately took the single word as a protest, finally letting go of your hands but keeping his body close.

“Shit I’m sorry that- that was probably a bit much.”

You giggled softly, “No- uh, it was fine tech, no worries,”

He looked down at your bright smile glowing in his face.

“You’re really beautiful Y/n,” he whispered, letting the rough pads of his fingers trail down the side of your face, blushing when you nudged them with your cheek, accepting the comfort.

“You think so?” you whispered back, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“I-” he started, his breath hot against the tip of your nose as he glanced down to your lips, quickly looking back into your eyes. Why weren’t you moving? Why weren’t you cringing, laughing at the thought of ever kissing him?

“You- Do you want this.” you whispered, letting his thumb pull down at your bottom lip, watching as the plush skin softly bounced back.

He nodded, shivering when you tangled your fingers into his pick curls, pulling his face down and nudging your nose against his. He closed his eyes, a small, cute snort coming from the back of his throat at the affection.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“FUCK!”

You jumped at the sudden curse, Techno falling off of you and on to the floor besides the couch. Before you could process what just happened, the curse sounded again followed by a crash, both of your senses on high alert when you realised it was Phil’s voice coming from the kitchen. You rushed to grab your weapons from nearby, quickly pulling yourself together on the fact that your friend was in trouble.

You both ran as fast as you could, Techno in front of you with his sword drawn while you were behind loading your cross bow with an arrow. He barged into the kitchen, holding his blade in the air, ready to attack but all he was met with was a pair of wings slapping him in the face.

You dove under the large feathers, bumping the winged man to alert him of your presence.

“Oh... hey guys!” He smiled, taking out something from his ears and resting them on the kitchen counter. He sent a pointed look to the weapons in your hands, crossing his arms over his chest in confusion, “Why the weapons?”

“Are you alright?” Techno said, rubbing his nose from the hit.

“We heard you scream, thought you were in trouble.”

Phil chuckled nervously, “Sorry, my bad,” he turned around to face the both of you, “I just dropped a plate.”

You and Techno let out an audible sigh, dropping your weapons to the floor with a clank. You didn’t know how many times your heart could deal with the sudden bursts of adrenaline. Walking up to Techno, you took his hand away from his face, inspecting the soft red mark across his face from the whip of feathers. No matter how small the attack, you always made sure to check up on him, even when he didn’t need it.

But with your delicate touch came memories of the events that just happened

“Were- were you here the entire time?” Techno said hesitantly, looking up at his father with worried eyes. You took in his words, immediately pulling away from the hybrid, ignoring his small noise of protest.

“Yes, but i put in some ear plugs,” he pointed to them on the counter.

“Oh!” you piped in, “That’s- That’s good.”

“Was there something I missed?” he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the both of you curiously.

“Nothing!” You both shouted at the same time, chuckling nervously.

“Okay?” Phil dragged out, pointing back to the sink, “Well, I’ll just-”

“Yeah! You- uh, get to that phil,” you began walking backwards, bounced into the edge of the counter. You played off the pain with a quick thumbs up and walking quickly out of the kitchen, mumbling curses under your breath.

“Are they alright mate?” Phil asked his son who seemed to be lost in his own world, staring at the spot you were once in, “Techno?”

“I- what?” He shook his head, “Uh, yeah- they’re,” he let out a small sigh, letting his hand pass over his face, “Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Are you alright?”

Techno didn’t respond for a while, stuck in his own thought. Phil turned to his son, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Tech?”

“I think-” He let out a shaky breath, “I think I love them.”

...

IM SORRY FOR ENDING IT SO SUDDENLY

it was just getting to long and i didn’t want to loose motivation writing more😭

Permanent Taglist (Dream SMP) : @ossinsworld @lunarinnit @starstruckllamapuppy @shio-yuki @lovelychasbug @alice-blue-skies @chaosofsmarty @imamybubbles

Technoblade Taglist : @hyumiid @whenpugzfly @sammyxn @jackalopedoodles @notmesimpingfortechno @immadatmostthings

Crossed out mean couldn't tag :(

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x y/n #technoblade x you #dream smp x reader #dsmp x reader #serenefreakgeek #mcyt x reader

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift!

- English projects are never fun

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet.

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing

- And decided to make it even worse.

- By the third knock

- You’re about to give up

- The curtains are still drawn

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant

- And group projects are no different

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together

- You knew

- You were 99% sure that

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers

- And then five minutes before the presentation

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours

- The door in front of you opens

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head

- ‘what are you doing here?’

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said

- But when she does

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend

- She sighs and rolls her eyes

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger

- But then again

- She’s not exactly a friend

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy

- But to you

- It’s wonderful

- It’s filled with stories and memories

- Some self explanatory

- Some slightly more bizarre

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table

- You really want to know the story behind it

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’

- ‘they still are’

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’

- She stares at you for a few seconds

- A mixture of shock and surprise

- Before nodding

- And smiling

- An actual genuine smile

- You didn’t even know she could do that

- Well you did

- Of course you did

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot

- Usually when you see Maeve

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling

- Puts a smile on your face

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going

- ‘yeah...that’

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze

- However as quickly as they were there

- They disappear

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence.

- After about half an hour

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’

- And with that one question

- Your entire day disappears in front of you

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten

- And instead you talk about music and movies

- Books and plays

- Characters that you love and hate

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over

- Surprisingly

- She finds it quite funny

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning

- You would have thought she had lost it

- But now it feels almost inevitable

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked

- Not many people get to know Maeve

- The real her

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart

- Very publicly

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right

- For some reason you feel right

- She feels safe with you

- And part of her hates herself for it

- But then again

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you

- And it’s barely been twelve hours

- You of course agree to stay

- Shocking yourself and her

- And while she sorts to sofa out

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are

- It takes two seconds to text them

- And the other 28 to ask yourself

- What the fuck are you doing?

- Why are you agreeing to this?

- Why do you feel like this?

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you

- Great

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice

- And neither of you bothered to move back

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless

- ‘are you okay?’

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am

- And half way through breakfast

- You remember the original reason you’re here

- And both of you curse loudly

- Before rushing to finish eating

-You get half way through your project

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit

- And well

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice

- And by the time you come back

- The feeling you had last night returns

- And has settled in your stomach

- For the foreseeable future it seems

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time

- And when you look at her

- You feel dizzy

- So you rush to finish the project

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed

- And yeah

- With the need to leave

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay

- Everything will go back to normal

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong

- A weekend is not enough time

- And the first few presentations are awful

- To put it nicely

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her

- Despite your assignment being long done

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back

- Your turn can’t come quick enough

- But then it’s over far too quickly

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise

- Because it’s over

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her

- You never talked before

- So why do you care about after

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf

- You want to be part of these stories

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you

- You want her to smile when she looks at you

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’

- ‘they got you a plate?’

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’

- ‘clearly’

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again

- And your heartbeat increases

- ‘y/n?’

- ‘yeah?’

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow

- Your lips brush over hers

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect

- And you feel everything change

- She kisses you slowly

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless

- Her cheeks are bright red

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues

- Although you really hope they are resolved now

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want!

#sex education #sex education imagine #maeve wiley #maeve wiley imagine #maeve wiley x reader

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alltooreid · 3 years

Note

hi !!! first of congrats oh my gosh you deserve all of them and more :)

for the blurb celebration could you do a fluff for promot 30 with the reader having she/her pronouns? it could be like friends to lovers with like constant teasing banter and then theyre like oops i accidentally fell in live with you, ya dork? or whatever you want!

thank you so so much, you’re so sweet!! and i love this request omg!!

Prompt: #30: “i'm sick and tired of your attitude”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Content Warnings: None! (I think, please let me know if I’m missing something!)

***

“There’s my favorite loser!” Y/N said, ruffling her best friend Spencer Reid's hair as she walked past his desk. “So, what are you doing tonight babe?”

When Y/N started at the BAU, Spencer remembered being overwhelmed and nervous whenever she called him babe, until she called Morgan babe for getting her coffee and Garcia babe when she met her for the first time. What really confirmed for him that Y/N would call anything and everything babe is when she told Hotch “Good morning babe,” on pure accident because she was so used to using it in everyday conversation.

Now Y/N was his best friend, and he found her calling him babe kind of annoying and comical, instead of romantic and flirtatious. However, he couldn’t help but blush when she would ruffle or play with his hair. But Spencer had convinced himself that was a completely natural response, that it meant nothing, and that he definitely had no feelings for Y/N.

“Nothing, really. I’ll probably just stay home,” Spencer said. “I just bought a first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice that is practically begging to be read.”

She rolled her eyes over-dramatically, Spencer laughed, knowing she didn’t actually mean it and was just trying to mess with him. “Or you could do something way better. Instead of reading an incredibly boring book written in old English, you could come to my apartment and we could watch the movie! It’s really good, I promise even you’ll love it.”

Spencer smirked, “I don’t know, movie night sounds fun and all. . . Maybe I’ll see if Emily wants to watch it with me.”

She laughed, “Oh so now you’re too good for me huh?”

“Maybe I'm just sick and tired of your attitude Y/N,” he said while smiling, they both knew that wasn’t true at all. Spencer found it comforting that Y/N was just as humorous with him as she was with everyone else, sometimes even more so. He often felt that because he was awkward around his coworkers and didn’t always get their sarcasm or jokes that he wasn’t included in the more silly, mundane “water cooler talk.”

Sometimes when he would try to include himself, he would begin to ramble, and by the time he was done most of his friends had walked away. Even more times they would just interrupt him so that he would stop talking. Yet whenever he would attempt to make himself more conversational, everyone seemed to think it was stupid and a useless endeavor.

But with Y/N, Spencer knew she was willing to take the time to make jokes with him and listen to his interests. So when Y/N made fun of him, he knew that it wasn’t out of malice. He felt comfortable exchanging banter with her; he was never scared of annoying her or messing something up.

“I don’t know how much I believe that Reid. . . but if you insist I guess I’ll just have to see if Penelope would like this chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles…. What a shame.”

“Wait! Y/N I still definitely want that.”

“Well I’m sure Penelope does as well, and she likes my attitude,” she said, giggling as she walked away.

Not too long after however, Y/N was back, and surprised Spencer by hugging him from behind and nuzzling her head on his shoulder. “Just kidding dork, I would never do that to you,” she dropped the donut onto his desk, “but! I would consider it if you don’t come watch Pride and Prejudice with me tonight.”

He laughed “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be there.”

“Yes! I knew it! Pride and Prejudice is on! 7 pm, my apartment, and you better bring snacks.”

She squeezed him again, and then went back to her desk, spinning around a couple of times in her chair and smiling.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as well, both at the sight in front of him and his newest realization, one that he had buried deep inside himself ever since Y/N started at the BAU.

He was in love with his best friend.

***

“Spencer! You’re finally here! Did you bring snacks?” Y/N said, practically jumping off her couch as Spencer let himself inside; she had a terrible habit of always leaving her door unlocked when she was home.

“What do you mean finally?” he asked, “I’m ten minutes early?”

“Yeah but I’m starving and I really wanna watch this movie,” she radiated excitement, “Now come sit down and cuddle with me.”

This was one of those things that should have made Spencer realize just how much he loved Y/N. Platonic cuddling was not something Spencer was used to, but when it came to Y/N he looked forward to it. Yet now the realization that it was only platonic on one end made Spencer feel awkward.

“You seem tense babe. What’s wrong?” Y/N asked.

“It’s nothing,” he lied.

“Don’t play that game with me Spencer, you’re my best friend. I love you, I know you better than I know myself, you can tell me anything.”

He sighed, “That’s the problem Y/N, you love me, but I realized today that I don’t just love you, I’m in love with you.”

Y/N’s mouth was wide open, and for a second when he looked at her Spencer thought he had ruined everything.

That was until she fit her mouth to his.

“I realized a week ago, it hit me like a truck. When I went to your apartment after the Oregon case, and you read me to sleep because it had affected me so much. I just remember lying there, eyes half shut, and thinking ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with this man, I want to come home to this every single night’ and that’s when I realized I was in love with you.”

“That’s a cuter story than mine, I realized this morning. Something in me finally said that there was no way best friends felt the way I feel around you.”

Y/N pushed his hair off his forehead and planted a kiss there, “Look at us dork,” she said with her lips still brushing the top of his head, “We accidentally fell in love with each other.”

Spencer smiled and then laughed, “Yeah, I guess we did.”

***

taglist!!: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @spenxerslut @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @laurnrnlds @samuel-de-champagne-problems

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!

please reblog and let me know what you think!! :))

or send me direct feedback here!

thank you again for this request! if anyone else would like to send request for my 300 celebration please refer to these guidelines!!

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bookaddict24-7 · 2 years

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2022!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

133. November 9th by Colleen Hoover--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

TW: Suicide, Grief I really liked this Hoover book. It's probably one of my favourites because of the depth it had and Hoover's ability to create such a moving story set only on one specific day of the year. She told us so much without the extra stuff that normally fills in the monotony of the days in between. I'll admit I didn't see where this story was going, although I should have, but I enjoyed being surprised. There were so many emotions in this book that I won't lie, I teared up a little. I think this author just loves making us cry. Another Hoover book down! Will I read most of her books by the end of the year? I'll surely try. ___

134. Without Merit by Colleen Hoover--⭐️⭐️

TW: Depression, Suicide and suicidal thoughts, SA, Cheating Not my favourite Colleen Hoover novel. The characters were younger and with it came a slightly more dramatic situation. Although I definitely thought, "How does this author come up with these ideas?" I feel like the MC was definitely infantilized a lot by the people around her. I get that she was very much in a hole of her own depression, but I feel like this is one of those situations where I get frustrated with the people around her. I don't know if it's my annoying empathy connecting too much with the MC again, or if this is something that genuinely upset others, but I hate when I read a book like this and it's so blatantly obvious that it was written by an adult because they us adult logic in a situation that requires a bit more finesse. I think everyone in this book needs therapy, not just the MC. Sure, she was the one that took it the furthest, but like...everyone needs therapy. Especially her twin sister. I was just so upset for the MC. While I also get that her POV is unreliable because of how much in her bubble she is...I think all of the other people who told her that she didn't understand people as well as she did, or told her that she needed help were hypocritical and stuck in their own bubbles too. This is a great example of a dysfunctional family and Hoover did a good job of that. But I feel like I want to hug the MC because something just didn't sit right with me by the end of this. Also, wow, those revelations.

___

135. Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This is, by far, my favourite book in this series! I was hooked immediately because I love this concept and getting to know the mermaid of the group. I loved the idea of fighting to both remember and forget the things that scare us because sometimes those are the things that can help define us. I felt for the MC when it comes to her bigger size being a topic of ridicule, but I think these moments of bullying sadly made her even more relatable. Especially the idea that no matter what you eat or how you eat, some bodies are not meant to be anything other than what they already are. I'm intrigue by how this book ended because it opened up the possibility for a fresh arc in the next few books. I want to know where this leads and honestly, I'm excited to meet even more characters. After all, there are endless doors.

___

136. All Your Perfects by Colleen Hoover--⭐️⭐️

** spoiler alert ** TW: Grief, Depression, Cheating, Miscarriages This was an incredibly rough read. It started out so strong and really interesting, but as I listened to the audiobook, my anxiety levels just kept going up and up. I think one of the things I disliked most about this book was the constant going back and forth of the timeline. I know why it was included in the story, but it made me pause every time it came up and I seriously contemplated DNFing the book. The interruptions actually made me weirdly uncomfortable because I just wanted the present story to end. I’m trying to read all of Hoover’s books this year, but this was one of the hardest ones for me to finish. Reminders of Him was a hard read but it felt like it was worth it. This one had so much miscommunication and had an instance that I absolutely hated that just made me feel even more ick. I’m just glad it’s done.

___

137. Howl by Shaun David Hutchinson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

CW: Homophobia, Offensive language about mental health, Bullying, PTSD I might be wrong, but I think this is the first book I've read by this author! It took me a second to adjust to their blunt way of phrasing things like derogatory comments, but I think in this case it kind of helped towards bringing the metaphors of this novel together. I think Hutchinson does a good job of creating a situation where a story can have allusions to a literal monster and the metaphorical monster of being LGBTQ+ and living in a small town with antiquated POVs about representation. I think the constant reminders of that night the attack happened acts as a way for the reader to experience the PTSD effect of intrusive thoughts at the most random of times. It was jarring at first, but now as I think about it, I can see that that was the point. Those reminders are meant to make me uncomfortable and never forget that the MC was scarred both physically and mentally by the attack--which can potentially be an allegory for homophobic attacks and how they linger long after the fact. The MC being ridiculed and called a liar is also a sad and great example of how it might be for victims after they've come out with the truth of their assault. I really enjoyed this and how everything felt like there was more meaning to it. There were also instances where the author sprinkles in some hints as to the MC's stage of acceptance with his situation. Like when he constantly thinks about how everyone he loves is on the other side of the country, but one day that sentence chances in the slightest of ways. If you're going into this expecting a horror novel, know that it isn't just in the obvious way. Sure, there are monsters and things that go bump in the night, but this is also a horror novel about the monsters inside of people and towns. This is a horror novel about the monster that could live inside of us, or that we might create of ourselves if we allow ourselves to be treated a certain way. After all, the MC (in his battle to fight his inner growing monster) allows some pretty homophobic comments and shit to pass so he doesn't rock the boat. If you're going into this book, be mindful of the content warnings. There are some strong and hurtful words used in this book.

___

138. Stuck with You by Ali Hazelwood--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm going to say this right now: I am at the mercy of my libraries, so I will not be reading these in order LOL. I enjoyed this one! It wasn't mind blowing or anything, but it was short, sexy, and fun. Had some surprisingly good spicy scenes and I loved the dynamic between the two characters--especially how he's a tall and gruff silent mountain of a man, but can be brought down by a teeny tiny woman that he cares for. The misunderstanding that led to their not talking was a little bit of a reach, but fine. I won't harp too much on that one. I think the downside of these short novellas is how insta-lovey they can be. I think it's incredibly sweet how they met and immediately hit it off, but I find it hard to believe, also, that a woman who is so cautious and a man who is so cranky can fall into insta-love like that. But I also know that sometimes that's what we need for love. I'm excited to read the other novellas! I want to see how the other couples get together and okay, fine, I want to see their spicy times too.

___

Have you read any of these? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

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writtenbykat · 3 years

Text

Confessions

Prompt: “I thought that was what you wanted.”

Lily glared daggers at the back of the giggling girl perched on Potter’s lap. What could he possibly be whispering that was so funny? She’d been there. She’d been the one he whispered to in the library. It wasn’t that funny– or at least she wouldn’t have giggled like an idiot school girl even if it was.

She stared a second too long, and his eyes met hers over the girl’s shoulder. He held her gaze, unflinchingly.

“Problem, Potter?” she asked, trying to keep the acid out of her voice, but failing if the looks on their friends’ faces were anything to go by.

“None at all, Evans,” he replied coolly.

Lily opened her mouth to offer a biting retort.

“Hey Lil,” Marlene interrupted her, “I think I left my potions book in the dorm, would you walk back with me to get it?”

“Here, just use mine,” she huffed, sliding her potions text over to Marlene, eager to resume her glaring at Potter’s newest girl.

“No, I need to get mine. It has a bunch of notes that I took in the margins,” Marlene insisted, “Come with me to get mine, please?” though she’d tacked on the please, her tone was less a question than it was a command.

“Fine,” Lily acquiesced. She wasn’t going to get any work done anyways, what with Potter’s new girl practically cackling at their table.

They’d barely left the library when Marlene yanked her into an empty classroom.

“Mar! What–”

“What the hell is your problem?” Marlene cut her off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Oh? Fighting with James like it’s fifth year? All the little digs? Glaring at Amelia like you’d rather see her dead? At least own up to it, Lily!”

Lily felt her temper, which was always simmering these days, flare. “I’m fighting with Potter because he is as big of a prat as he was in fifth year. I haven’t said anything to him unprovoked. And I don’t glare at the Bones girl, but now that you bring it up, I find her to be quite shallow and annoying!”

“Disregarding all that other bullshit, have you even tried to get to know Amelia?”

“Yeah, I have!” Lily fired back, “Don’t know how I couldn’t since she always seems to be hanging around us these days. And, it’s not bull. You know it as well as I do. Potter has been absolutely insufferable lately.”

“Ugh, one problem at a time,” Marlene let out the long breath of someone doing their best to control their own temper, “Firstly, she is not just some girl ‘hanging around’ all the time, she is James’ girlfriend. A concept you seem to be unable to understand,” she muttered the last part under her breath, but Lily felt the jab acutely.

Malene continued, “Amelia Bones is a perfectly nice girl. Actually, she’s really sweet, and she’s funny, and she’s smart. Which, you would know if you attempted to get to know her! But mostly, she cares about James, and she makes him happy.”

“And before you start on him being a prat,” she interrupted before Lily could voice her objections, “he’s not! I know you hate to hear it, but you’re wrong. He’s not being an insufferable prat. He has actually handled everything like a gentleman, all things considered.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” she felt her hackles rise.

“You know exactly what I mean, Lily.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lily informed Marlene stiffly, “He’s been a smarmy git; what, bringing around his constant string of girls and flirting incessantly with everything with two legs and a skirt.”

“Girl.”

“What?”

“Girl. Singular. Unless you count yourself in that lot.”

“Why would I count myself?”

“Oh don’t play coy, Lily. Do you think I’m stupid? The two of you were together for months, we all knew it. The only ones acting like it was still a secret were the two of you!”

“Well it’s done now,” Lily bit out, hating the burning she felt in her eyes and the tightness in her throat as she fought to get the words out.

“James has always been a flirt,” Marlene continued as if Lily hadn’t said anything at all, “You’re just mad because, for the first time since the two of you met, it isn’t directed at you.” The scathing assessment was accompanied by a glare that made Lily physically flinch.

She’d always known Marlene was fiercely protective of her friends, but she had never thought she would be someone Marlene had to protect her friends from.

“You have no idea what happened between us. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hissed, barely holding it together.

“He told me, okay!” Marlene exploded, “He told me how the two of you were together for months, then one day you decided simply, ‘hey it’s not working for me, let’s just be friends’ with no warning or explanation. So don’t try to spin this Lily. I have been trying to be there for you, as your friend; but he’s my friend too!”

Lily opened her mouth to interject, but Marlene wouldn’t have any of it.

“No! No, you don’t get to make him the villain. That boy has been in love with you since we were fourteen. You finally give him a chance. Then just as quickly you just end it. He is trying his best. James is trying his best to be what you said you wanted, a friend. I thought this is what you wanted. So I’ll ask again, what the hell is your problem?!”

“I’m in love with him, okay!” she practically screamed her confession at her friend.

“I’m in love with him,” she repeated, this time at nearly a whisper, reaching blindly for a chair or something to grab onto. The act of admitting what she’d known for weeks, out loud– let alone to another person, was overwhelming.

Marlene didn’t say anything; her face frozen in a mask of shock.

“What?” came the choked question from the open door.

Read on AO3 or FFN

P.S. This is the last prompt I’d already had pre-written to be posted on the day of (I’ve been trying to have one up for every day of Oct.). So bear with me from here on out. Fingers crossed that I’ll manage to keep up!

#jilytober #jilytober fest 2021 #jily #Lily's finally owning up to it

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organabanana · 3 years

Photo

What spring does to cherry trees || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor

Additional Tags: mostly fluff, with some porn for flair, pre-canon, but also, post-canon, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees. What does that even mean? It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained. No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak. Kara doesn't like poetry. Until she does.

Notes: Written for a very patient anon who prompted me with “Seeing the cherry blossoms in Washington DC” but I got sidetracked by Neruda and my favorite of his poems and it turned into This. It's poem number fourteen, found in "Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada" (Twenty love poems and a song of despair) by Pablo Neruda, which you can read here (Spanish) or here (English). I mostly translated the lines I needed myself, so I can't guarantee they'll match the official translation (I'm also not sure there is such a thing as an official translation, so there's that). With special thanks to the most patient anon in history for the prompt, to @lavenderrry for praising my vibes, and to @emiltons for the gorgeous graphic.

[ao3 link]

The first time Kara encounters Neruda's poetry she's nineteen and bored. In her defense, she thought taking a poetry class would make her feel sophisticated and cultured, but all she feels is annoyed at the insistence of using language to obscure your message rather than share it.

And yes, yes, she gets it. It all sounds very pretty and evocative. It's just Kara has been hiding her true self in plain sight for the last six years, and she can't understand why anyone would willingly and needlessly do that to themselves. To their feelings. She may never have been in love, but Kara is pretty sure if she ever is -- if her heart ever feels full to the brim with the kind of big feelings her professor keeps making them read in metaphors and symbolism -- she'll want to make them clear as day.

I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees.

What does that even mean?

It's taking a simple I love you and putting lead-lined glasses on it to keep its power contained.

No offense, Mr. Neruda, but that's just weak.

***

Kara doesn't take any more poetry classes, and she doesn't think of Neruda (or any other poet, for that matter) for years. She has so many other things to think about. She moves to National City and starts working for Ms. Grant. She grows into herself, she thinks. She becomes Supergirl and feels more like herself than she has since her pod left Krypton. She dates, a little bit. Dips her toe in the dating pool, if you will. She meets Lena Luthor.

And that's the second time she runs into Neruda. Right there on a shelf in Lena's living room, on a book that looks well loved and well read, spine full of small cracks and lines from being opened over and over again. Kara has always thought you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shelves.

"Pablo Neruda," Kara says, one finger tracing a line down the spine of the book like she's trying to read something in the pattern of the cracks, "I didn't know you liked poetry."

"I don't dislike it." Lena's heels click-clack on the hardwood floor before she sets the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table and sits on the couch. "Have you made up your mind on what we're going to watch?"

Kara can hear the faint electrical hum of the TV being turned on, but she's a bit too distracted by the book to focus on deciding whether tonight is a night for a romantic comedy or an epic drama. She couldn't say exactly why this book feels important. It just does. Maybe it's because Lena keeps so much of herself hidden somewhere not even Kara's X-Ray vision can reach, and finding little clues about her thoughts and feelings feels a lot like she's struck gold.

Yeah. Maybe that's why.

Her fascination with the book only grows when she pulls it out of the shelf only to find the title written in Spanish. "Veinte poemas de amor--"

"And a song of despair," Lena finishes in English. "Atonement? I've heard good things about it."

"No way. I said I could be persuaded to watch a tear jerker, but I did not sign up for actual depression." Kara brings the book along when she walks over to sit down next to Lena. She's so focused on the book, still, that she miscalculates her landing just by an inch or so and her thigh bumps against Lena's as she settles on the couch. But Lena doesn't move away, and Kara figures there's no reason why she should. They're friends, after all. Close friends. Figuratively and now very, very literally close.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish." Kara speaks again, breaking the silence before it solidifies into something potentially awkward.

"I don't. It's a bilingual edition. Can we please pick a movie?"

Kara would love to do exactly what Lena wants. In fact, giving Lena everything she wants has become sort of a constant in this fledgling friendship between them. It just feels nice, you know? Giving her what she wants and making her smile. But this book. It's all so very distracting.

"So. Do you prefer the twenty love poems, or the song of despair?"

Lena rolls her eyes, but she can't quite hide the amused smirk behind the glass when she sips her wine, so Kara knows she's not nearly as annoyed as she's trying to appear.

"What is it with you and Neruda? I didn't know you were a poetry fan."

Kara scoffs. "I'm not." She still remembers the feeling of relief washing over her when she saw her passing grade on that stupid course and realized she'd never have to read another line of poetry in her life. "I don't even like poetry. I'm just curious, that's all."

Lena cocks one eyebrow at her. Studies her, in a way that makes color rise to Kara's cheeks and has her wondering if Lena can see through people, too.

"Anyway!" Kara shakes her head like she's hoping that'll make the blush fade. "The love poems, or the song of despair?"

"The poems," Lena finally concedes, "and I'm very surprised you don't like poetry. You seem the type."

"What?" Kara is already thumbing through the edge of the book, trying to find the place where it'll open naturally and hopefully show her which of the twenty love poems Lena happens to like the most. "What does that even mean?"

"Well, you have a big heart. Big feelings." Lena looks into Kara's eyes like she's trying to read all those feelings right there in shades of blue, and Kara finds herself looking down at the book just in case. Just in case all those big feelings she can't even name herself are there for Lena to read. "Seems like a recipe for liking poetry."

Kara shakes her head and pushes her glasses up, just in case. Just in case the lead in them can shield more than just her powers. And just as she's about to argue -- just as she's about to tell Lena precisely why she doesn't like poetry -- she opens her book and her gaze lands on a familiar phrase.

"Quiero hacer contigo," she reads out loud from the page on the left, and her fingertip is already finding the next verse on the right when Lena finishes for her.

"What spring does to cherry trees."

If Kara was just Kara Danvers, she'd have missed it all. She'd have just heard her best friend speak a line from a poem that -- much like most poems -- means very little to her. But she's not just Kara Danvers. So Kara hears the way Lena's heart beats just a little bit faster. The way her breath catches just so. The exact fraction of a tone her voice drops when she speaks. The faintest hint of a sigh.

"See? This is why I don't like poetry." Kara chances a look into green eyes, and she's so very grateful Lena has no superhearing to tip her off to the way Kara's heart seems to trip all over itself. "'I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees'. What does that mean?"

Kara swears -- she swears -- she catches Lena's pupils dilating just enough to make her think she knows exactly what the poem means.

"It's not about what it means, Kara. It's about what it makes you feel." Lena lets out a soft chuckle, something light and airy like this is just a silly little conversation with no weight to it at all. Like she can't feel the way the air itself seems to have changed into something new.

"Is it your favorite line?" Kara pretends she can't hear the way her own voice has changed, too.

Lena shakes her head. "No. My favorite is actually--"

Kara hears the DEO alarm before Lena's fingertip can make contact with the paper, and she almost considers ignoring it. She almost considers letting whatever danger is looming over this whole city have at it because finding out what's Lena's favorite line in her favorite poem seems far more important right now.

But of course, that would be crazy. Crazy! Kara would never.

"I'm so sorry, Lena, I--" Kara stands up, already hearing Alex's voice telling her where she's needed as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and pretends to read a text, "I have to go. I forgot I had this thing with--"

"Go." Lena's smile is just small enough to make Kara's heart twist in an uncomfortable way that's become familiar since she started lying to her friend. "Sounds important. I understand."

Kara nods, just once. "Tomorrow?"

Lena's smile doesn't grow, but it suddenly reaches her eyes, and something settles in Kara's chest. "Of course. Tomorrow."

Five hours later, foe defeated and safely locked away at the DEO, Supergirl touches down on Lena's balcony. There isn't a single light on inside the apartment, and Kara hesitates for a second by the sliding glass door. She shouldn't sneak into Lena's apartment in the middle of the night. That's a little creepy, right? Even if she knows Lena's said over and over again Kara's welcome any time.

It's just.

That book.

Lena's favorite line.

Kara may never be able to sleep again if she doesn't find out what it is.

So with a non-zero amount of shame at her own choice, Kara ends up sliding the door open and slipping into Lena's living space. She listens for Lena's breathing to make sure she's asleep, and once she's satisfied that's the case she makes a beeline for the shelf and the now-familiar book. It doesn't take her long to find the page she'd been reading before, and soon enough she's reading the lines Lena had been pointing to.

How you must have hurt getting used to me, to my savage, solitary soul, to my name that sends everyone running.

The words wrap around Kara's heart like a vice. If she could do it without blowing her cover and putting Lena in danger, she'd go in her room right now just to wake her up and tell her what Kara thinks about her soul. About her name, too, while she's at it. She'd tell her everyone else is free to run if they want, but Kara isn't going anywhere.

But she can't do any of those things.

***

The two lines stay with Kara, sort of swirling under the surface of her thoughts. She never actively thinks about them -- about poetry in general, for that matter -- but they're there.

She remembers them sometimes. When their friendship grows and strengthens and one day Kara realizes Lena may be the person she loves the most in the world (tied with Alex). When the secrets and lies catch up with her and she thinks she may have lost Lena for good. When she finally gets Lena back.

It's been five years since she snuck into Lena's apartment that one night to find out about her favorite line in her favorite poem. Five years since she's actively thought about Neruda and the book and the words inside it. But for some reason, when Kara wakes up a couple hours earlier than she needs to and finds herself unable to sleep, she feels like that's precisely what she needs to read to soothe her brain. Maybe poetry will have the same sedative effect it used to have in college.

Wearing only an old t-shirt, Kara walks out of the bedroom and into the living area, scanning the shelves where she thinks she last saw that book. It's hard to keep track when your book collection has multiplied and turned into more of a home library situation than anything else, but she eventually finds it -- spine still cracked and pages still well-loved and well-read -- and settles down on the couch.

Kara flips from poem to poem, not really paying attention to any of them. A line from the third and then two from the eighteenth and a word or two from the seventh, eyes flicking between the Spanish lines and their English counterparts on the other side of the page. It's soothing, in a strange way. Like white noise, she figures. Nonsensical but calming. Until she lands on the fourteenth.

"Oh, those cherry trees," Kara half-groans in a whisper. The cherry trees and the spring and the convoluted way to say I love you. And Lena's favorite lines.

Kara feels it all over again. The pang of pain at the sight of that line.

My name that sends everyone running.

It lands different this time, five years into a friendship that turned out to be so much more and nearly went up in flames at one point. Because of names and lies and... well. Everything else. Lena was right after all, wasn't she? It's not about what the poem means. It's about what it makes you feel. And right now Kara feels a lot more than she'd be able to put in words if she had to.

Maybe Mr. Neruda was on to something after all.

"Hey," Lena's voice is laced with sleep, and Kara smiles as she listens to her footsteps bringing her closer, "what are you doing? It's the middle of the night."

Kara wouldn't call it the middle of the night -- more like a very early morning, really -- but she's not about to argue. "Reading. I couldn't sleep."

"Everything all right?" Lena reaches the back of the couch and makes the most of the rare height advantage over her girlfriend to press a kiss to the top of blond hair. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Kara opens her arms before Lena can even think about sitting next to her instead, and smiles at the familiar weight of Lena sliding onto her lap. Even as she shrugs off Lena's question, Kara is already burying her face against the soft skin of her girlfriend's neck, breathing her in and letting the familiar scent filling her lungs soothe her like no amount of poetry ever could.

"Kara," Lena's fingers slide into blond hair, blunt fingernails scratching at Kara's scalp and making her hum in delight, "that's not an answer."

"No reason. I'm just not tired anymore I guess." A deep, content sigh. "Baby, you're so good at that."

There's still a slight crease between Lena's eyebrows, but that doesn't stop the smile Kara's praise brings to her face. "You'd tell me if I had to worry?"

Reluctantly, Kara pulls away from the warmth of Lena's neck. Her arms wrap around Lena's waist as she looks into green eyes. "You know I would."

And Kara watches Lena let the words sink in. They've had this conversation before, and Kara knows they'll have it again. They both have sore spots that need special care from time to time. And just to keep Lena's mind from going down any sort of rabbit hole, Kara decides it's time to continue a conversation they left unfinished five years ago.

"It didn't hurt at all, you know. Getting used to you." Kara shows Lena the book she's been holding, and grins when Lena smirks as the reference clicks.

"I thought you didn't like poetry," Lena chides, taking the book and flipping through the pages until she lands -- unsurprisingly, if you ask Kara -- back on poem fourteen.

"I don't. It's like... giving feelings a secret identity."

Lena arches one eyebrow, looking somewhere between amused and curious. "Care to explain?"

"Well, you know," Kara leans in to steal a quick, soft kiss, "say I want to kiss you. I can just say it. That's better than hiding it behind some kind of... flowery metaphor that'll make you wonder if I'm even saying that in the first place. Right?"

There's this look on Lena's face. Kara knows it well. It's like a challenge. Like she's playing chess and she's already thinking six moves ahead and knows you're toast whatever you do from that point on. Kara finds it nothing short of delicious.

"So you're saying," Lena says, and there's victory right there simmering under the surface of her words because she knows -- she knows -- she's won, "you'd rather I say 'this is a lovely sunrise we get to see together'," Lena's gaze drops to the open book in her hand to refresh her memory on the line she's about to quote, but she makes sure she's looking into blue eyes once again when she speaks, "than 'so many times we've watched the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans', right?"

Kara swallows, hard. Her cheeks burn with a blush that will simply not be contained, no matter how hard she tries to keep some semblance of dignity. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, heart beating just fast enough -- hard enough -- that she's sure even Lena's plain human hearing can pick it up. And the look on her girlfriend's face lets Kara know she knows exactly what's currently happening to her.

"W-- well." Kara blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to physically clear the fog inside. To her credit, she thinks she manages to sound more indignant than turned on. "I mean that's unfair. You made it hot."

Lena lets out a delighted chuckle that hits Kara right in her heart, like a little pinball ball making it ding with the knowledge that Lena Luthor is happy enough to laugh. Really, truly laugh.

"What?" Lena asks, still grinning, fingertips teasing the soft hairs at the back of Kara's neck like it's nothing -- like she doesn't know what she's doing to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ohh no, ma'am," Kara grins, cheeks still burning with the feeling simmering down low in her belly but too charmed by her girlfriend's teasing smile to stop, "you don't get to pretend you didn't do that on purpose."

"Kara," Lena says, in that way, because she knows, she knows, she knows Kara's weaknesses so perfectly well, and Kara wouldn't have it any other way, "I was just quoting Neruda, I didn't do anything."

"You did the voice thing!"

"What voice th-- Kara, if you can't just admit plain language and poetic language are simply not on the same level I--"

"You purred the words! How is that fair!?"

Kara presses her lips together like she can retroactively keep the words from exiting her mouth. Too late, though. Lena looks positively delighted.

"I purred the words?" Lena echoes, barely able to keep a straight face. Actually, you know what? Scratch that. She's openly pleased with herself. Smug, even.

"I mean. I mean," Kara says, and she touches the bridge of her nose with one fingertip because for a moment she's forgotten there are no glasses to push up at all, "obviously it's not the same. Poetry and prose, they're inherently--"

"Different, right," Lena finishes Kara's thought, "so you see how you'd use one or the other depending on how emotionally charged--"

Kara shakes her head. "But you don't need flowery metaphors to convey emotion! You can just say what you mean and mean what you say."

"But you just said it yourself. It felt different when I just said it's a sunset, and when I quoted--"

"You purred poetry at me, Lena, of course I'm going to feel a certain kind of way!"

And there it is. Kara feels it in her bones. The checkmate Lena had seen coming a mile away. She sees it right there in the smirk on her girlfriend's face. In the way Lena's pupils dilate just so. The way her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she looks at Kara like she's lunch.

Or, you know. Breakfast, as the case may be.

"You feel a certain kind of way?" Lena shifts on Kara's lap and they've been together for long enough that Kara absolutely knows there's nothing innocent or coincidental in the way Lena's night shirt (Kara's high school gym t-shirt, mind you) rides up to expose Lena's lace-covered ass. "What kind of way is that, Supergirl?"

Kara perks up at the sound of her name. Her other name. Because maybe it wasn't checkmate after all. Maybe it was just check. Because the thing is, it's not just Lena knowing all of Kara's weaknesses. That knowledge very much goes both ways. And Lena calling her Supergirl?

Oh, Kara is absolutely not the only one who's feeling a certain way.

"You know." Kara shrugs slightly, pretending to still be the mouse in this little game. She rests one hand on Lena's knee and lets her palm slide up her thigh, slowly, listening to Lena's heartbeat speeding up with each inch of skin Kara explores. "You know the way I mean."

Lena's breath hitches just so when Kara's hand slides further up, and Kara savors the sound of Lena's heart tripping over itself when her fingertips drag along damp lace.

"You're listening, aren't you?" Lena cocks her eyebrow, but her lips stay parted and her breathing comes in short, warm puffs so the whole thing really doesn't come off as stern as Kara is sure Lena would like.

"Hmm?" Kara knows she's probably pushing her luck, but she bats her eyelashes anyway, her face the very picture of innocence as if her fingertips weren't tracing the very edge of Lena's panties, hinting at what they could (will) do if she just happened to push that fabric aside. "Listening to what, baby?"

Lena tries not to -- Kara can see the struggle right there in her eyes -- but she whimpers anyway, quiet and just barely audible to the human ear.

"Kara." It tries to sound like a warning, but it falls just this side of pleading instead. Lena blushes so very pretty when she's feeling a certain kind of way.

"Yes, Lena?"

"You're listening," a breath, slow and measured like she wishes she could take in a deep one but her lungs can't quite cope with that right now, "to me."

"Well, I mean," Kara shrugs slightly, like she can't feel the warmth of Lena's pussy against her fingertips, "I try to. I feel like it's good girlfriend etiquette."

Lena is trying so hard to look at least moderately annoyed. It's not working at all, but Kara can see that's her intent. She also knows exactly what Lena means, too. She means Kara is listening to her. To the beat of her heart and the air in her lungs and all the tiny, inaudible (for everyone else) sounds that tell her exactly how much Lena wants her.

"You're listening to what you're doing to me." Lena drops the book on the floor to wrap both hands around Kara's neck, hips shifting forward just enough to get more contact with Kara's hand between her legs. Kara knows Lena doesn't need superhearing to notice the way Kara's breath catches in her throat.

"And what am I doing to you, baby?" Kara won't cross the barrier of Lena's panties just yet, but her fingers becomes more purposeful, less teasing as two fingertips press against Lena's clit through damp lace. Lena's eyes flutter closed and she takes in a sharp breath that sounds almost like a gasp, and Kara rewards such a gorgeous sound with a kiss to Lena's jaw. "What Spring does to cherry trees?"

Lena must feel Kara's teasing grin even if she can't see it, because she lets out a breathless chuckle even as her hips start rocking to meet the movements of Kara's fingers. "Just admit poetry can express richer emotions than prose ever cou--"

Kara's mouth is on Lena's before she can finish her thought, and Kara would maybe feel a bit guilty for interrupting, but Lena's fingers fist in blond hair and pull her close and there's no way someone who's offended would kiss her like that. And Kara isn't even listening anymore, because Lena's tongue is in her mouth and all she can hear is her own heart thumping along anyway.

When she breaks the kiss, Lena keeps Kara close. She's panting slightly, breath hot and wet against Kara's lips and pupils so dilated Kara wonders if she can see her at all. A quiet, hitched moan escapes parted lips, and Kara swears there's nothing in the world -- in the universe, really -- more beautiful than Lena when she's like this. Like putty in her hands. And Kara just can't resist.

"Admit you purred," she whispers against kiss-swollen lips, knowing if there's one chance for her to win an argument with her girlfriend this must be it. When she has Lena rocking against her fingers, wet and wanting and just the right amount of needy to get her to give in, for once.

"Kara." It's practically a whine, and Kara swears it sounds like victory. Until she sees the glint in her girlfriend's eyes, and Lena gets her checkmate move after all. "Shut up and fuck me."

Kara feels the words rather than hears them. They hit right between her legs and spread all over her body, and you know what? Kara really is okay with losing under these particular circumstances.

Two fingers hook under the crotch of Lena's panties and Kara tugs lightly, almost like she's testing the strength of the lacy fabric. "Do you really like the..." Kara's voice trails off as Lena pulls the t-shirt up and over her head, blue eyes staring unabashedly at her girlfriends breasts as she struggles to finish her thought, "...these?"

It's just polite to ask before tearing someone's panties to shreds, if you ask her, even if you're currently transfixed at the sight of her breasts.

"I don't care." Lena's voice is doing that thing again, except this time Kara is pretty sure she's not doing it on purpose at all, it's just that's what Lena sounds like when she needs Kara now and isn't that just the best thing ever? "Baby, please, I don't care."

Kara doesn't know if she rips the panties off first and then leans in to catch Lena's left nipple with her mouth or if it happens the other way around, but she honestly doesn't care either, as it turns out. All she knows is two fingers slip inside Lena in one smooth, firm thrust, and her free hand grabs Lena's right breast, and then--

"More," Lena moans, breathy and greedy, but when Kara starts thrusting harder into her Lena shakes her head, "no, no-- more fingers," and Kara lets out a quiet whimper around the stiff nipple between her teeth.

Kara pulls her fingers out of Lena and stretches her ring finger to join the first two before sliding them back inside. Her movements are slow and careful, all of her senses focused on detecting even the slightest hint of discomfort in her girlfriend until her three fingers are fully inside Lena.

"Go on, Supergirl."

Lena's tone is just the right amount of teasing to make Kara chuckle lightly, mouth leaving Lena's breast to trail kisses up her sternum and to the freckles on her neck as her arm starts pumping once again. She's so very close, Kara can tell, and even more so when she turns her wrist just so to press the pad of her thumb against Lena's clit.

Lena's fingers dig into Kara's scalp, into the strong muscle at her shoulder as Lena holds on and rides Kara's hand, hips rocking hard and fast in time with Kara's thrusts. Kara couldn't listen to any one thing if she tried. It's a symphony of sighs and moans, whimpers and ragged breaths and stuttering heartbeats that nearly overwhelms her senses until she feels Lena clench around her fingers, hips losing their rhythm as Lena comes with Kara's name on her lips.

Kara pulls her face away from Lena's neck just so she can look at her. Watch her come around her fingers and then relax, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch her breath. Kara swears there can't be a more beautiful sight in the universe, especially not now, with the sun rising and bathing Lena's damp skin in early morning light. And as much as Kara tries to suppress it, there's a thought running through her head. A line from that stupid poem with its stupid cherry trees.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body...

"You're thinking very loudly," Lena whispers, already resting her head on Kara's shoulder as her fingertips play with the hem of Kara's shirt, "what are you thinking?"

For a second, Kara considers telling her, but Neruda's words aren't what comes out when she opens her mouth. "Just how beautiful you look," she says, which is in fact the truth. Kind of. She can't let Lena win every single time, right?

***

"Apparently the first cherry trees got here in 1910, but they had to burn them all because of a bunch of insects." Kara holds the little guide book in her hand as she reads, her other hand safely in Lena's as they walk along the Tidal Basin. "These ones are newer, from 1912."

"Oh, like the Titanic!" Lena looks delighted with the coincidence, and the bright smile on her face makes Kara lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. Her fiancée is super cute when she lets her inner dork show, if you ask Kara.

"See? I told you buying an actual guide book would be worth it!" Kara holds the small book in her hand with the pride of someone who's just won an argument (for once). "Where else are you going to get that kind of high quality trivia?"

"You do know the prototype L-Corp keychain I gave you last week can access Google, yes?"

"Not the same."

"Not to mention the actual supercomputers we all carry around in our pockets. Or the high-tech communicator in your wat--"

"Lena!" Kara groans. "Look around! The cherry blossoms! The quaintness of springtime! A romantic stroll along the river! Where's your sense of romance?"

Lena chuckles lightly, her free hand sliding up Kara's arm to wrap around her bicep. And Kara would complain about the obvious use of one of her many Lena-related weaknesses, but you know what? It works.

"Kara Danvers," Lena says, voice low and teasing, "that's all very poetic."

Kara rolls her eyes, but she can't quite stop the bright smile that's already appearing on her face. "Don't you start with me," she warns, not very convincingly.

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's shoulder, and it makes color rise to Kara's cheeks even through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Even after all these years. But she figures if there's one day to be particularly enamored with one's fiancée, that's the day she's scheduled to receive a Presidential Award for her contributions to science and the betterment of humanity.

Not to brag. But Kara is proud.

"I love you," Kara says, because she can't not, "and I'm just so proud, I--"

Lena presses a finger to Kara's lips, stopping what was potentially about to turn into a whole speech about the many ways in which Lena Luthor could not possibly be any more perfect if she tried.

"Kara," Lena warns, all cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips, "you promised. You promised you wouldn't cry before the actual ceremony."

And Kara would argue. She'd argue that she's perfectly capable of going on about Lena's many virtues without actually crying, but you know what? Her eyes are feeling just a tiny bit misty already so she's just gonna go ahead and trust Lena on this one.

"You know what I also love?" Kara presses a kiss to the pad of Lena's finger and obediently changes subjects. "Sushi. Let's go get some." Kara starts walking away from the beautiful soft pink trees and in the general direction of the street festival, tugging Lena along. She's all for the romance of blossom-watching, but she'd be lying if she said hearing about the culinary side of this whole festival hadn't excited her a bit more than that.

It's only when she hears a sigh coming from Lena that Kara's focus shifts from food to the woman next to her. That wasn't a happy sigh.

"Are you okay, baby?"

Lena smiles. It's not a fake smile, but there's a hint of something in it that isn't fully happy, either. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. It's just... between the cherry blossoms and all this talk of sushi, I guess it made me a bit nostalgic for Sendai."

"Sendai?" Kara looks at Lena with curiosity written all over her face. "What's Sendai?"

"Oh, it's a city in Japan. I lived there for a few months for an exchange when I was in college. Did I never tell you?" Kara shakes her head, her face the picture of delight at getting to learn something new about Lena. "There was this little restaurant near Tohokudai, I swear they had the best sushi in the world." Lena hums, letting her eyes flutter closed for a second like she's trying to imagine the taste. "I'd do anything for some negitoro maki from that place right about now."

Kara listens intently to her fiancée's words. She knows it's just a silly little comment. She knows Lena will be perfectly happy eating the undoubtedly delicious sushi currently being sold at the street festival. And yet.

She can't resist a chance to make Lena just that little bit happier, can she?

So Kara looks around to make sure they're not being watched, and lets go of Lena's hand. "Be right back."

"Where are you--?"

But all Lena gets is a quick kiss and a gust of wind on her face before Kara disappears.

She's only gone for a couple of minutes -- just enough for Lena to wander back towards the cherry trees -- and when she comes back she's holding a small box which she immediately presents to Lena.

"Sushi for my... sushi," Kara lets out a chuckle, her now-free hand coming up to scratch at the back of her head like she's aware she may have gone just a little bit overboard but she's hoping it won't be too much, "Sendai's beautiful, by the way."

Lena's smile is soft, and Kara has a feeling -- not to toot her own horn -- if she'd been listening she would've heard Lena's heart skip a beat.

"Kara Danvers," Lena sighs, shaking her head like that'll do anything to hide just how charmed she is right now, "you're something el-- what's that?"

"Nothing," Kara shifts slightly and puts her hand -- and the little carton box it's holding -- behind her back, fully intending on letting the focus of this moment be on her romantic gesture, but Lena raises one eyebrow and Kara loses her resolve. "Potstickers." Kara's voice is quiet as she shows Lena the box. "What? I was in the neighborhood!"

"In the neighborhood of," Lena squints slightly as she reads the words on the box, "Shanghai?"

"Well, China is next door to Japan, if you think about it."

Lena chuckles, clearly too charmed by this whole thing to even continue teasing Kara about it. "Thank you. For this. You didn't actually have to fly all the way to Japan to get my favorite sushi, but I appreciate it."

Kara shrugs, chopsticks already grabbing the first potsticker in the box. "I'd go way farther than Japan to make you happy. You know that."

"I do know," Lena nods, looking just a little thoughtful, like she's just now realizing she fully believes Kara would stop at nothing to make her happy, "you even promised when you proposed."

Lena wiggles her finger, flashing the kryptium ring that's been there for a few weeks now along with a teasing smile, and Kara can only shrug. "Well, I meant it," she says, popping the potsticker in her mouth and leaning against the trunk of a nearby cherry tree.

"I know," Lena says again, but this time she's smiling, amusement shining in her eyes, "if only Lex had figured out the one true way to have the world in the palm of your hand is to make a Kryptonian fall in love with you."

"To be fair, I really don't think your brother is Kal's type."

***

Eight hours later, they're seeing the Tidal Basin from above, the cherry blossoms looking nearly white in the moonlight. They could be in National City already, but Kara figures there's no reason why she can't take the scenic route with Lena in her arms and enjoy the view without the crowds and the bustle they experienced earlier today. Perks of being your own private jet.

"Go a bit lower, baby," Lena's voice is soft against Kara's ear, like she's afraid if she speaks too loud she'll break the spell and they won't feel like the only two people in the world anymore, "I want to see the flowers."

Kara doesn't make her wait. Lena's just been awarded an actual medal by the President, and spoiling her a little is the least Kara can do. So she dips until they're hovering just above the soft pink blossoms and then a little lower still, close enough that Lena can smell the sweet, fresh scent of Spring.

The night is clear and quiet, just cool enough for Lena to reach for Kara's cape and pull it forward to wrap it around herself. Kara holds her a little closer, just enough to hopefully provide a bit of extra warmth, and she figures it was the right move when Lena slips one arm from under Kara's cape to reach for the tree and pick a particularly pretty blossom from one of the branches that's closer to them.

Lena looks at it for a moment, twirling the little stem between her fingers like she's pondering what to do with it. And then she turns and tucks Kara's hair behind her ear, sliding the small flower between soft blond strands and smiling when she's satisfied it'll stay exactly where she wants it.

"Happy?" Kara chuckles, something soft and quiet and a little teasing because there's something equal parts amusing and endearing about Lena's perfectionism when it comes to silly little things like putting a flower in Kara's hair.

"Very."

And there's something about the way Lena smiles, more with her eyes than with her mouth, that makes Kara see, clear as day, just how serious Lena is. How sincere, when she says she's very happy.

Maybe that's why Kara gets a little transfixed just looking at her, suddenly aware of just how different this Lena -- the Lena wrapped in her arms and her cape, wearing her ring and smiling with a smile that's just Kara's -- is from the Lena she first met all those years ago.

"Kara Zor-El," Lena's voice is soft just like the sound of Kara's true name on her lips, "what are you thinking about?"

And Kara wishes she had the words to tell her. But how does she even begin to explain what she's feeling right now? How she's still the same Lena that made Kara's heart trip all over itself the first time she saw her, but she's so very different all the same time. Brighter. Lighter. Loved. God, she's so loved, and Lena knows it, finally, and that's what's different, maybe. Not just Kara's love, because Lena's had that from the very first day, probably, but the fact that Lena can feel it now.

How do you put that in words? I love you just doesn't feel like enough.

And then it hits her.

"I'm thinking," Kara smiles, cheeks pink with the knowledge that she's just been proven wrong, "about what Spring does to cherry trees."

#fic #fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fanfiction #supercorp

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maggies-scribblings · 3 years

Text

Yarning For Her

Adrien is smitten with the girl who's always been there, in the row behind him. But when his plans to ask Marinette out unravel, a secret throws him for a loop…

Written for the Miraculous Writer's Guild April Event 2021: Followers sent five emojis as prompts to the @mlwritersguild Tumblr for the writers to pick one to write for. I chose the emojis sent by @ladycat1: ✨ 😊 👀 👩🏻 🧵

Canon compliant up to Season 4, Episode 4: M. Pigeon 72.

👩🏻

It was finally happening. The event everyone was waiting for… well, everyone except the main protagonist of said event.

Marinette could feel it, though she could hardly believe it. She noticed Adrien looking at her with more intensity, when he thought she wasn’t looking. How he had trouble finding the right words when talking to her. All the tiny gestures of attention, like offering to help with a difficult subject or a complex art project, or praising her outfit every day, even if she’d worn it several times before.

Nino could tell, too: questions about Marinette and her favourite colour, food, flower, or whatever else were whispered in his right ear all day.

Actually, the whole class noticed Adrien’s marked change in behaviour. His cheerful hellos were now stuttered in Marinette’s general direction. His head hid on his shoulders whenever Marinette sighed or yawned, as if his neck couldn’t handle her fresh breaths. Even his athletic skills were now replaced with an unexplained jerkiness. The fact that the weather was warmer and the girls’ gym suits gave way to short shorts and strappy tops might have had something to do with it.

In short, Adrien fell in love with Marinette. Hard.

👀

When it started, Adrien couldn’t exactly tell. Ever since that first day of school, Marinette had held a special space in his heart (most of which had been stolen by Ladybug the previous day). She was one of his first and dearest friends.

But now… after getting to know Marinette, her loving and kind nature, after seeing her helping others without asking for anything back, after finally noticing how pretty she was… he wasn’t so sure.

That day at the pool was definitely a turning point.

First there was that unplanned double dive. During those milliseconds when they were falling, Adrien’s thought process went something like this:

Danger!—Why is Marinette here?—Protect!—Wow, she looks so cute in that swimsuit!

As they hit the water, their arms instinctively reached out to the other as they sank, swirling back up to the surface in a soft embrace — just like that night in New York, when they had danced floating in the air, under the full moon.

And when they were leaving the pool, Adrien was so happy and surprised to see she still had the umbrella he’d given her way back then! Sweet as always, she offered to give it back to him, even though it was raining and she had to walk home.

She was standing next to him (she linked her arm in his!) when that pesky umbrella decided to close on them, and they were pulled even closer for a few seconds. Very close. He could smell the chlorine in her hair mixed with the scent of sweets that always surrounded her. He thought he felt her heart beating faster and faster. Maybe it wasn’t. His heart certainly was. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt, and it drove him a little crazy.

When they said goodbye that day, he could hardly take his eyes off her. He even bumped his head on the car door frame. Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the charming, elegant model Adrien Agreste, unable to enter a car (come to think of it, he seemed to have a bit of a problem with doors whenever Marinette was around).

✨

The few weeks that went by did nothing to sort out Adrien’s feelings about the two black-haired girls in his life. His days were mortifying, his nights restless. On one such night, Adrien tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn’t come. The full moon and bright stars shining through the window frames painted his room with grid patterns, a constant reminder of his confined life.

Adding to that, his mind was racing with memories of his (now frequent) clumsiness and embarrassment at school. He recalled the fumble of the day: going into the classroom while trying to look cool, he managed to snag his bag strap on the door handle, causing him to jerk back and hit the ground on his butt in front of the whole class.

Adrien groaned and turned again. Worst thing was, he had no idea how she felt for him. She kept sending mixed signals. Her behaviour towards him wasn’t as weird as it had been, but that didn’t mean a lot. He’d even asked her a couple of times. He remembered the time they visited the wax museum, when she said she didn’t like him like that.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Plagg yawned from his side of the pillow, annoyed by his bearer’s restlessness. “Who is it this time? Spots or bakery girl?”

Adrien didn’t bite, going back into his musings instead.

His mind turned to Ladybug… These days, Spots occupied a much smaller part of his thoughts. He still got the occasional butterflies in his stomach when he saw her, or when she praised him and his humour. She would always be his first love, and not an easy girl to forget… but she was right, of course — she was always right — as long as they had enemies, they couldn’t reveal their identities, much less deepen their relationship. Back when Bunnyx first showed up, they found out that there would be a new Hawkmoth and countless akumas in the future, and who knew when that would end?

Plagg was still grumbling about sleep and cheese. Adrien playfully flicked his kwami’s ear.

“Shut up, Plagg! I’m trying to sleep!”

“Very unsuccessfully, I might say,” Plagg flew out of his reach. “You sighed four-hundred and fifty-eight times in the last hour.”

“Come on… can’t you see I’m in turmoil here?” Adrien turned his back to the kwami. It was no use arguing with a deity, no matter how minuscule.

“Four-hundred and fifty-ni—” Plagg’s teasing was interrupted by a pillow hitting him.

😊

This wouldn’t do. Adrien couldn’t stand his own indecisiveness any more. He decided to ask Marinette out, that very day. After a reviving shower, he got dressed and looked in the mirror. The dark circles around his eyes were evident, but he hated wearing concealer to school. He might as well add a couple of details to his usual get-up: a pair of Gabriel’s new collection sunglasses and his favourite blue scarf.

He arrived at school early, and while most of the class was either chatting in the courtyard or going into the classroom, Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Adrien went into the locker room, and lurked behind the last row of lockers while students got in, got their things and left.

Finally, the hurricane that was late-for-class-Marinette thundered in, scolding herself for oversleeping as she got her books for the morning. When she closed the door, there was Adrien, leaning against the cabinets with his best Chat Noir smirk as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses and greeted her.

“Good morn—”

He didn’t have time to finish his line, as a very startled Marinette squeaked and grabbed his free arm to spin him around and pin him to the lockers with an elbow to his throat.

It took a few moments for Adrien realise exactly what had happened, before she released her hold.

“I’m sorry, I… panicked,” Marinette said, as she stepped back and continued to gesticulate wildly and mumble more awkward apologies.

Still frozen in place, Adrien managed to adjusted his crooked sunglasses.

“Marin—” he had to clear his throat. “No, I— It’s o-ow!”

Adrien tried and failed to step forward, as he heard a ripping sound — his scarf was caught in Marinette’s locker, and the momentum slammed him back into the metal doors with a loud bang.

The proverbial stars that blurred his vision cleared up to show Marinette very close to him, fumbling with the lock to release the scarf.

“Sorry, so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”

“It’s okay, no harm do—”

Adrien stopped talking when he saw that the scarf had a large rip, disappointment obvious upon his face.

“Oh no!” Marinette covered her mouth as she saw the damage. “Your scarf! I ruined it!”

At this point, Adrien would usually smile and say something like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘no worries’, but he couldn’t lie: he really loved that scarf. It was his favourite colour, warm and cosy, yet light enough to wear on a spring day, and a rare thoughtful gift from his father. He pouted a little as his fingers traced the tear.

“I can fix it!”

He lifted his eyes to Marinette as she got on her tiptoes to unwind the scarf from his neck.

“I can make it look as good as new. I know you’re worried, after all it’s your dad’s birthday gift,” she rambled as she delicately folded it, “but I have leftover yarn— I mean, I think I have the same colour, and it’s a simple pattern.”

There was something odd about the way she worded that, but Adrien dismissed it. He must have made a weird face, because now she had a concerned expression.

“I mean, if you trust me with it… I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t after I destroyed it. ”

“No—I mean, don’t be silly, it was an accident… I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that!” He managed a relieved little smile. “Still, my father might be upset if he saw I ripped it. Are you sure you can fix it?”

Marinette’s eyes averted his for a moment, as she returned the folded up scarf.

“I’ll do my best! I’m not a pro like your father, but I’m sure I can make it as good as new in no time at all!”

They agreed to go to Marinette’s place after school so that she could start working on it right away, then ran off to class as the second bell rang.

Not exactly the way I planned it, Adrien thought as he scrambled onto his seat, but I guess it worked!

🧵

Adrien reclined in the chaise-longue and looked around Marinette’s bedroom. It was the total opposite of his, huge and aseptic and cold. On the contrary, these walls had warm colours and pictures everywhere, and it smelled amazing, fruity shampoo mixed with glue and ink from her many design projects, mixed with sweets from the bakery, and everything about it was so welcoming and cosy and so… Marinette.

“Yes!” Her delighted voice interrupted his reveries. “I knew I still had it!”

Adrien chuckled as he saw Marinette triumphantly holding a ball of light blue yarn, then get several needles from her yarn basket and sit at her sewing station to start working. He switched seats to her desk chair and rolled close to her.

“Can I help?”

“Sure! Let me just…”

Marinette picked up a long, thin knitting needle and started to thread it on the scarf, just above the tear. She was so concentrated and her movements so careful and precise, she might as well be defusing a bomb. Adrien noticed her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth and wondered what her kisses would taste like.

“There. I have the brakes on, now let’s get going.”

Marinette found the end stitch at the corner of the scarf and cut it. Giving Adrien the end of the yarn, she continued.

“Hold this. Make a ball while I unravel it.”

“Huh? Un-what?” Much as Adrien trusted her skills, he panicked. “Won’t you make it worse?”

“No, because I’m holding the knitting with this,” she pointed at the longer needle she had threaded through the scarf.

Marinette turned her chair, so they were sitting face to face, knees almost touching, and started to quickly unravel the bottom part of the scarf, while he rolled up the thread in a ball, both enjoying the comfortable silence. He noticed a small piece of fabric falling from one of the edges and bent down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” Adrien thought out loud while examining it.

As soon as Marinette lifted her eyes from her work and saw what he was holding, her eyes went wide and her cheeks red.

“Oh, it’s nothing—” she tried unsuccessfully to snatch the fabric from his hand. “Probably just the washing inst—”

It was not an ordinary washing instructions tag. It was tiny and had been woven into the knitting, so discreetly he’d never noticed it before. He turned the fabric over to see a recognisable signature.

Marinette

“Wait— you made this?” Adrien picked up the other end of the scarf from her lap and examined like he’d never seen it before. “Wha—? How? D-did my father buy it off your website?”

So that’s why she was so confident about fixing it. He searched Marinette’s face for an explanation, but she just shook her head and kept looking down, unravelling the loops one by one.

“No— of course not— your site wasn't set up back then, we only took those photos later…”

Adrien thought back to the time Nathalie handed him the present, neatly packed in a box with a ribbon. He’d never seen that kind of care in his father’s presents, just standard gift bags with expensive pens, straight from a corporate catalogue. His train of thought was broken by a couple of tears falling on his hands.

“Marinette…” he murmured, lifting her chin to look into her misty eyes. “Did you make this for me?”

She nodded with a tiny smile. He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“Was this supposed to be your present for me?” Another nod. “How did this mess happen then?”

“I…” Marinette had to clear her throat and finally looked at him. Something in her eyes changed from avoidance to determination. “I wanted to give it to you personally, but I couldn’t gather the nerve… then one thing led to another, and I left it in your house, and I even signed it, but…” she shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just… couldn’t. You were so happy with the present from your dad. I couldn’t ruin it for you.”

Adrien made a mental note to find out exactly what had happened, then set all his negative feelings aside. His heart was too full of love to think about anything other than the girl in front of him.

“Oh, Marinette…” he softly chided as he hugged her. How could this girl be so selfless, on top of everything else? She cared for him, really cared for him, even back then. “I wish you’d told me.”

He released the hug and pulled her closer, into his lap. Marinette set the scarf on the sewing table and put her arms around his neck. Her tears were gone and a hint of a smile played on her lips.

“That way,” Adrien caressed her nose with his, “I would have thanked you properly.”

“Oh yeah?” Marinette breathed, her lips very close to his. “You can thank me now.”

They closed the distance between them, their lips melding into a sweet kiss, then another, and then a few more. Adrien’s heart was beating so fast he could hardly bear it. Then he remembered he should probably breathe at some point.

“Wow.”

“If that’s the way you thank a person for a present, I’ll start giving them more often,” Marinette joked.

“Not anyone.” He pecked her lips. “Only you.”

They kissed again, this time more passionately. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her neck, then back up to her lips…

The scarf was left forgotten on the sewing table. It could wait a few more hours before repairing.

Fin

Thanks to @hari-writes and @deinde-prandium for the beta read! ❤️

Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. English is not my first language and I tend to use UK English. If you catch any inconsistencies, please let me know.

My AO3. My Twitter. My Instagram.

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loveatfirstwriteblog · 3 years

Text

A Complete Analysis of Harry Potter

Like a lot of kids, we probably grew up on Harry potter. We were obsessed and rightly so. The universe created in the world of Harry Potter was, and is, a hugely successful one because of the fact it gave kids a world where magic exists! It seemed to be a great world to live in and it made even better with the fact that it included elements of empowerment, Whether it be showing girls can be just as successful if not more in various pursuits(Hermione), or the fact that even if you have a history of bad events, you can have a good heart(Hagrid), Harry Potter teaches us a lot.

JKR has written a mind-blowing plot in a world of magic, wizards, witches, wands, potions, friendship, love. Our inner-five-year olds--and actually most of our young adult selves too--jumps around excitedly at the beautifully penned words that creates an exit out of this world and into one where magic does exist.

As you get older, though, you begin to think of Harry Potter in a more critical fashion. The thought of “oh my god, it’s magic” no longer completely overrides my mind, but more of “but what are the laws regarding this? Can people just do this whenever they want? Are there no ethics?”

No matter how much we’re going to expose the flaws and plot holes in HP now, we’ll always love the books--we grew up on them! But some things just niggle you as you get older, and that’s what we’re going to be focusing on in this post.

Something I adore about the HP books is that everyone, including the “good guys”, has flaws. Harry has a “save the world alone, do first, think later” complex, a driving force that makes him go save Sirius, Ron is very, very insecure to a point where he ditches Harry twice, probably when Harry needed him the most, Hermione is a judgemental, narrow-minded nag (her thoughts on Luna, divination, Trelawney, basically anything that doesn’t fit her black and white world), Molly Weasley is misogynistic and blatantly favourites her children—probably being one of the main factors behind Ron’s insecurities, Arthur is condescending towards Muggles and makes several comments you cringe at while reading the books as a young adult/adult, Sirius, Snape, and Lupin still haven’t let go of their childhood grudges and hatred, etc etc etc.

These flaws are what make these characters so three-dimensional, so layered, so human. But the problem was, most of these flaws are never intentionally acknowledged. And honestly, that could have been such a good character arc, because the main characters are mostly students. No student is the same through their teenage years—they change, they evolve, they get over their flaws, they try to better themselves. I would have loved to see Ron becoming his own person, Hermione opening her mind up a little, etc.

Neville is not one of my favourites, but I love his growth and development, from someone who was scared of his potions professor to a man who faced down Lord Voldemort. Ginny Weasley could have had character development, from the trauma she went through in second year, but that was never written in. She went through this terrifying ordeal when she was only twelve years old, and jump to a year or two later and she’s absolutely fine, with no transition from her trauma whatsoever.

Some of JKR’s characters are brilliantly written and fleshed out, but some of her others lack the structure and complexity that usually comes with being vital to the plot—Ginny Weasley for one. Her internalised misogyny also plays a huge part in the way her female characters are written. We see this again in the case of how she wrote the character of Ginny.

Ginny Weasley is not a favourite of ours (if you don’t know that by now). She feels a lot like a convenient male daydream—when she waits for Harry to notice her by dating other guys, gets annoyed by Hermione “not knowing quidditch”, etc etc—and fits the “not like other girls” archetype too much, almost like she was made for it (hint hint). She’s portrayed to be strong-willed, spunky, and independent, and I love the idea, but I really don’t see it. To me, she’s a very shallow character, the least fleshed out one.

Just like James Potter wasn’t necessarily redeemed just because JKR said he was, and Ginny isn’t interesting just because JKR writes that she is.

Hermione also fits the archetype, but she’s JKR’s self-insert, so we really can’t say much about that.

To make things worse, Ginny and Hermione are pitted against each other in a very subtle way. Ginny is the sporty, pretty, flirty girl who’s never single from book 4. Hermione is the not-conventionally-attractive, nerdy girl who’s had a few dates here and there but never a relationship. They’re very different characters (the only thing they have in common is the archetype) but they’re against each other in the defence of Harry.

Another place where JKR’s misogyny shows up is the way other girls are written. Lavender Brown is shown as vapid and immature, just because she likes clothes and boys and didn’t know how to handle her first relationship. Cho Chang is perceived as shallow because she’s emotional. Pansy Parkinson is seen to be throwing herself at Draco Malfoy. The Weasleys hated Fleur because she was beautiful and sexy and French, and that was ever really resolved in the end (Molly accepted her, but we never got Ginny’s and Hermione’s opinions again). You see where we’re getting at? The typical “girly girls” are portrayed as insipid, shallow, emotional, and boring, while girls like Hermione and Ginny are seen to be fun and multilayered.

The problems with Harry Potter don’t just stop with non-fleshed out characters. There are plot devices that go unacknowledged, issues like blood purity—which is the basis of Voldemort’s tyranny—are never really resolved, huge Chekhov’s guns that aren’t fired.

A common misconception, which if cleared up could probably expose a load of problems in wizarding society by itself, is that the wizarding world is racist. It’s not racist. Muggles and Muggleborns are not a different race, they’re a different class, at least according to pureblood wizards. Mudblood is a classist insult (a direct reference to nobility blueblood and aristocracy).

Another factor that wasn’t talked about but made the HP world so complex and realistic is the inherent classism in every single pureblooded wizard, including the Weasleys.

The “Light” wizards all operate on the notion “at least I don’t kill or torture Muggles”. The Weasleys refuse to talk about Molly’s squib cousin who’s an accountant, the Longbottoms were so desperate for Neville to not be a squib they nearly killed him trying to force magic out of him, Ron makes fun of Filch for being a squib, thinks house-elves are beneath him, and confounds his driving instructor in his mid-thirties, the ministry workers kept obliviating that muggle at the quidditch World Cup, etc.

This could have been a metaphor for how small prejudices and microaggressions (kind of the wizarding equivalent of white privilege) enable discrimination and murder, if JKR had actually acknowledged it.

The parallel to Nazi Germany is very twisted and definitely shouldn’t be taken too far, but the Nazi ideology grew on the basis of everyday antisemitism, “that’s not that bad” little things. Voldemort’s circle and army grew because the wizard superiority complex festered and blew up in some people, egged on by a deeply classist society.

Ultimately, Harry Potter has very, very shoddy worldbuilding, the kind of worldbuilding that’s obsessed with answering the “what” of the wizarding world, rather than the “how” or the “why”, which is strange, considering that fantasy or dystopian-era novels’ driving plots and conflicts are usually answering the questions the worldbuilding raises--The Hunger Games and The Shadowhunter Chronicles are two of the best examples of brilliantly written YA fantasy and dystopian novels.

In HP, however, the main plot just avoids the questions the worldbuilding brings up like the bubonic plague.

Voldemort’s agenda is built on prejudice towards Muggles and Muggleborns, but the plot just validates the negative perception of them—at the end of the day, being a wizard is what’s special. The Statute of Secrecy is the foundation of the main concept—blood supremacists believe wizards shouldn’t be hidden away—but only vague, barely-there answers are given to why it exists (a Chekhov’s gun that was never fired).

There are love potions that function like date rape drugs (even Harry was given one by a girl who wanted him to ask her out), potions that force people to tell the truth, potions that literally let you disguise yourself as another person, but the ethics are never talked about, and the laws are so lax that three twelve-year-olds broke them and were never caught.

But at the same time, the worldbuilding is so authentic, because it transforms the wizarding world into straight-up fridge horror. The everyday horrors are just accepted and rolled with. A corrupt government, constant obliviation of Muggles, slavery that isn’t even talked about. These things aren’t obvious to us as readers, or to the wizards as characters, because they match up to the real world, which is filled with things that are horrifying if you dig deeper. The multiple, normalised forms of abuse, police brutality, the violence in prisons that nothing is done about, the glaringly obvious cultural problems we have with consent, etc.

The abusive authoritative figures in HP, like Rufus Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge, Dumbledore, Umbridge, etc, are so authentic because real-life politicians and people in high places of power behave that way, and their abuse is excused.

The wizarding world is just like the real world. Corrupt, prejudiced, messed up, but if you’re privileged, or at least have certain privileges, you’re probably not going to notice. The ultimate problem is that the plot doesn’t acknowledge a lot of fridge horror things are messed up either, which is why it miserably fails.

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jaeminzie · 4 years

Text

better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

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