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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years

Text

Home (Part 2)

Summary: As you got closer to Bucky again, some kind of emotional crescendo was inevitable.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I got one more part after this, so let’s call it a mini-series

---

You slept in the next morning, getting out of bed only to traipse down to the living room and lounge around in your pyjamas on the couch for the rest of the day.

It was the holidays- you were allowed to be disgustingly lazy if you wanted.

Evening came around before you knew it, the smell of your mother’s cooking filling up the house as you stared dead-eyed at the Hallmark Channel, all the white couples wearing red and green sweaters slowly blurring into one.

You were only awoken from your hypnosis by your dad leaning over the back of the couch, jingling some car keys at you.

‘I need to take your mother’s death-trap to Barnes’, you wanna come along?’

‘Really?’ You frowned, eyes darting to the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘It’s almost seven, surely they’re closed?’

‘They are, but Bucky offered to work on it out of hours.’

You gave an impressed nod, adopting your best impression of your mother. ‘What a nice young man he is.’

‘You know it, skip.’

He grinned as you hoisted yourself up from the couch and shoved a coat over your pyjamas, figuring that getting dressed this late in the evening would just be an absolute waste of time.

The two of you hopped in the car, both cringing at the metallic scraping sound the engine made when your dad turned the key.

After a tense few death-defying minutes, you finally pulled up at the workshop. Your dad honked the horn and the shutter door began to rise, slowly revealing what you could only deduce to be an extra from the music video for Uptown Girl.

Oh wait, no, it was just Bucky.

His choice to sport a tank top mid-December was definitely a bold one, but Jesus fucking Christ you weren’t complaining. Glistening with sweat and covered in grease stains, he looked like a page from a raunchy calendar hung up in an office full of middle-aged spinsters.

He waved the car in, greeting your dad with some kind of bro-hug ordeal that immediately confused the hell out of you.

Those two were buds now? What else had you missed?

‘Hey, Lilypad.’ Bucky looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow at the plaid pyjama pants peeking out from underneath your coat. ‘Nice outfit.’

‘Thought I’d make a bit of an effort.’

‘For little old me? You shouldn’t have.’

You gave him a playful shove on the shoulder as you strolled past, taking yourself for a little tour of the shop floor while he started searching under the bonnet.

The place was surprisingly neat and tidy, you were quite impressed. The only questionable thing you found was a scantily clad centrefold torn out of a magazine and pinned to the corkboard, upon which some comedian had scribbled the words ‘Bucky’s girlfriend’.

You’d be having words about that.

Completing your journey, you re-joined the boys just in time to see your dad reach his wallet from his back pocket and wave it towards Bucky.

‘How much?’

‘You're joking, right?’

‘Let me give you something. I insist.’

Bucky chuckled, pulling a dirty rag from his pocket and roughly wiping his hands. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. It’ll be ready in the morning.’

‘Ah, you’re one of the good ones Buck.’ Your dad clapped him on the shoulder before turning to you. ‘Come on then, squirt. Dinner should be almost ready.’

For some reason, you found yourself very reluctant to leave. Jesus, you’d actually prefer to spend the rest of the evening in this cold, halogen-lit grease pool with budget Billy Joel than at home in front of a warm fire. That boy had magical powers or some shit.

‘I don’t mind sticking around, if you want?’ Bucky shot you a slightly confused frown. ‘I could go out and pick us up some food.’

‘You sure? Passing up your mom’s cooking for this place seems crazy.’

‘Least I can do, we’ll count the company as payment.’

His frown slowly melted into a warm smile. ‘Sounds great.’

You looked back at your dad, who was absolutely beaming, eyes flicking between the two of you like he was at Wimbledon. His excitement was sweet, but you knew he was only invested in your relationship because it had the potential to give him a lifetime of free car repairs.

‘Well, you kids have fun.’

After loitering around for a few minutes, you eventually headed out to pick up dinner from a nearby takeout. It was freezing and your pyjamas got pretty soggy, but your good mood didn’t waver for a second. You were really excited to have an evening alone with Bucky.

When you got back, he’d ferreted out some old car seats for the two of you to sit on while you ate.

‘So I saw the photo of your girlfriend hanging up back there.’

‘Oh, that’s just a stupid joke.’ He immediately went bright red, tripping over his words a little. ‘The guys here keep trying to set me up on dates but I always say no, so they found me a “paper girlfriend” instead.’

‘Maybe they’d leave you alone if you sucked it up and just gave it a try.’

‘I think you’d take that back if you’d seen some of these women.’

You raised your eyebrows at him. ‘Never had you down as shallow, Barnes.’

‘Oh, c’mon. I’m not I just-’ He chuckled slightly when he realised you weren’t being serious, eyes flicking back down to his food. ‘I have a pretty specific type.’

‘Maybe too specific?’

‘You could say that, yeah.’

There was that weird atmosphere again, it kept creeping up on you at the most inconvenient times.

You just changed the subject.

Once you’d both finished eating, you watched him work for a while, quickly flicking your eyes away from his bare arms every time he looked up but definitely getting caught a few times. Oh well.

It must’ve been getting close to midnight when you started dozing off, full to the brim with junk food and warmed up by the space heater Bucky had pointed in your direction. You were almost completely asleep when you felt him softly shaking your shoulder.

‘Home time, Lilypad. You need a ride?’

You peeled your eyes open, yawning as you stumbled to your feet. ‘Ugh, that’d be great. Did you drive here?’

‘Nope.’ He turned around and crouched down a little. ‘Hop on.’

‘For real?’

‘For real.’

Still pretty dazed, you did your best to clamber up onto his back, settling your head into the crook of his neck whilst trying to ignore the all feelings that his strong grip around your legs was provoking.

He somehow managed to lock up the garage while you were clinging onto him like a baby monkey, the cold night air waking you up a little more as he started on the short walk home.

You were only expecting a lift as far as his house, but he seemed to deliberately miss the turning.

‘We just passed your street.’

‘I wouldn’t be much of a public transport service if I didn’t take you the whole way now, would I?’

‘You never were one to do things by halves.’ You pressed your cheek against the side of his head. ‘But you know I’m not paying you for this, right?’

‘I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.’

‘In your dreams, Yucky.’

‘You’re damn right about that.’

He took you all the way to your doorstep, refusing to drop you until you were inches away from your front door. After gently setting you down, he spun round, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

You chuckled, trying to find your key. ‘I probably won’t see you now until after Christmas, so I hope you have a really nice one.’

‘Yeah, you too.’ He paused for a second, his hand feeling around in his pocket, looking as though he was building up to something important. ‘I’ll see you for games night though, right?’

Oh, apparently not.

‘Right. Night, Buck.’

Stepping forward, he placed his hand on the back of your head, gently pulling you towards him and pressing a soft kiss just below your hairline.

‘G’night, Lilypad.’

---

Christmas came and went, your family had their usual two day lock-in. You ate until you couldn’t stand, played so many board games that you had them all down to a perfect science and didn’t change out of your pyjamas for two days.

Spending so much time with your parents made you realise how much you’d missed them, and how much you’d miss them when you left again.

Aside from all the warmth and loveliness of your family, there was another big highlight to your day- a text from Bucky that you woke up to on Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas, Lilypad. It wasn’t the same last year without you.

---

The evening of the 26th was games night.

The doorbell rang and you leaped up, yanking it open and immediately pulling Bucky into a hug. You tried to greet his parents too, but it was a little difficult while you were being squeezed like a vice and carried towards the living room.

Everyone settled in while your mom made up the drinks. It was so reassuring to see that the end of your relationship with Bucky hadn’t tarnished the firm friendship that’d formed between your parents, the relaxed atmosphere between everyone made it felt like nothing had really changed since you left.

A little while after they’d arrived, you scuttled off to the kitchen for a snack, not noticing Bucky hot on your heels. You jumped out of your skin when you spotted him in the corner of your eye, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

‘I was just, uh- wondering if we could-’ He took a deep breath, steadying himself. ‘Could we go upstairs?’

You studied him for a second before answering. He was struggling to keep still, shifting back and forth on his feet while also seemingly unable to find a comfortable resting position for his arms. He was tense and anxious, you’d never seen him like this before.

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yeah, all good. I just thought it’d be nice to talk in private for a bit.’

‘Sure.’ You gave him an apprehensive nod and gestured for him to follow you. ‘We can go to my room.’

Dread started to churn in your stomach as you slowly ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps clunking up behind you. Bucky was the most laid-back, carefree guy you knew, what the hell could have him so jittery?

You led him into your bedroom, hearing a low chuckle as he closed the door behind him. ‘This place hasn’t changed a bit.’

‘I think my mom likes to keep it ready in case of surprise visits.’ You sat on your bed, patting the space next to you, giving him a warm smile as he took the invitation. ‘So what’s up?’

‘I haven't had a chance to give you your Christmas present.’

‘Oh, well it’s too late now.’ You teased him, trying your best to ease some of his nerves. ‘You’ll have to try again next year.’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long.’

Digging a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small, clumsily wrapped present and quickly handed it to you.

‘Thank you, that’s really sweet.’ You felt it in your hands for a second. ‘Insert good-things-small-packages cliché here.’

Eagerly tearing off the wrapping paper, you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

It was a ring box.

Your eyes shot up to him.

‘Open it.’

‘I don’t think I can Buck, I-’

‘Just, before you say anything, let me explain.’ You nodded faintly, feeling tears pricking your eyes. ‘You remember our last year together, how I told you that my dad was making me work all those hours? He wasn't. I asked him for them, cause I was saving up.’

You felt like you'd been shot in the stomach. ‘You bought it before I left?’

Flashbacks of your break-up conversation flooded into your mind. You’d been the first one to suggest separation, but you vividly remembered Bucky agreeing without hesitation, so quick that it made you think he’d lost interest in you.

‘I thought you wanted to break-up?’ Your words got a bit tangled in your mouth, the wave of emotions you were experiencing making it difficult for you to string your thoughts together.

‘I didn’t want to hold you back. I knew what the job meant to you.’

Your gaze darted back down to the box in your hand. ‘And you kept it all this time?’

‘It's not mine to give away, it's yours. It's always been yours.’ He placed his hand on top of yours. ‘I just couldn’t let you go again without it.’

Your mind went completely blank, the only sensations you could focus on were the sting of hot tears rolling down your face and the feeling of his rough skin against yours. You let your gaze slowly rise back to his face, the sight of his wide, blue eyes fixed on you making it even harder for you to untangle yourself.

Before you could even try to speak, he leaned towards you, cupping your face in his hand and softly pressing his lips against yours.

You let your eyes flutter closed, the only tangible thought rolling around your mind was how much you’d missed this, how much you’d missed him.

It was only a few seconds before he pulled away, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his forehead against yours.

This was too much, you felt your breathing becoming more frantic as you tried to pull yourself together. You turned your head slightly, roughly wiping the drying tears off your cheeks, doing everything you could to just think without being overcome by emotion.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. Just stay.’

‘I’m so sorry, Buck.’ You felt yourself beginning to crumble again as you carefully placed the box back in his hand. ‘I can’t.’

---

Part 3

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---

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

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Headcannons for Shouto meeting a beautiful forest fae.

A/N: Fae are always confusing creatures for me to fully grasp, I always mix them up with... fairies and such- I’m not entirely sure, but I don’t believe they’re the same thing?

I read up on a bit if folklore and such, so I hope this is sorta what you were wanting!

I really love mythical creatures and stuff so this was a fun thing to experiment with!

Also idk how to do headcanons so this is essentially a story in hc format,,,

S.Todoroki Meeting A Forest Fae

Perm. Tag List: @coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

Growing up in a castle, forbidden from traveling outside of the suffocating walls built from stone surrounding the smaller kingdom, books were Shōto’s source of adventure.

It paid to have libraries filled with tales and stories from around the world.

The sheltered prince was always particularly fond of tales pertaining to creatures one could only conjure up in your mind, creatures so far fetched they certainly couldnt be real

Then again, dragons were a thing, so who was to say that things like unicorns and sylphs werent real either?

It wasnt until the ripe age of 15 that he was permitted to travel outside of the castle, as long as he had his loyal knight, Izuku, by his side at all times

He didn’t mind that at all, they had been friends since childhood, he was glad they could go on his first adventure together.

Relief and exhilaration overtook his senses when the white horse he rode on finally stepped off the bridge and onto a dirt road

The air was so fresh out here, had it always been so crisp and clean?

He’d heard from Izuku many times before what outside the walls were like, but words couldnt compare to seeing what he was seeing right now.

A rare smile twitched at the corner of his lips, eyes brimming with excitement as they soaked in the line of bright green trees and wildflowers in the meadow.

Izuku nudged his shoulder with a playful smile, and together they rode off down the road, no clear destination in mind but the duties of returning before sundown pressing on their shoulders

Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the trees canopy above them, the sight, though plain to some, was nothing short of magical to him. It was like he was seeing the true beauty of the world for the first time.

The adventure ended up being short lived, time flying by far to quickly and slipping through his fingertips

Back at the false illusion of a ‘home,’ he did nothing but dream of going out again

And so he did

Day by day after his princely duties, he went outside the castle, even if he couldnt go farther than the treeline from lack of time, he always made sure to go out

He was never alone, Izuku or another new guard named Tenya would always come along with him

Some days he wished he could be by himself, relax like a normal teen, but he knew that possibility was nothing more than a mere hope

He was a prince, after all. Thieves were fairly common, known for attacking those entering or leaving the castle, so it made since everyone was cautious

A week after his 18th birthday, he slipped past his green-haired friends watchful eyes during a morning ride and traveled off on his own

Sure, his friend was worried shitless no doubt but the hammering of his heart on his ribcage as adrenaline pumped through his veins pushed him forward to ride just a little longer

Until... he came across a pond.

One he had never heard about before, one void from maps of the lands.

It was nothing short of breath taking, the waters shifting from teal to aquamarine, a halo of sunlight shimmering on the crystal clear water, revealing the grey and muddy brown bedrock underneath

Surrounding the water were a plethora of flora so vibrant in color he swore he’d go blind by their sheer beauty

Dew drops kissed at their delicate petals, wrapping the small cove in an aura of innocence

Hopping off his horse, he found himself in a trance, walking forward just to peer into the still water of the lake shimmering like a diamond.

His reflection was hazy, yet he could see his own childish glee in the irises of his eyes

He had never felt such relaxation and joy before, he hadn’t even noticed the strange amount of red topped mushrooms surrounding the place.

Letting his eyes flutter shut, he took in the cool summer breeze that blew past his face, flowing through his silky red and white locks.

“My, I’ve never seen a prince before.”

Gasping loudly from the sudden velvety voice whispering in his ear, he jumped forward, nearly about to grab his sword only to fall into the shallow waters of the lake.

Wiping the water from his eyes, the snapped up to where he previously was, only to gawk openly at the human, no- creature he saw before him

Vines and flowers were threaded in her hair, soft looking (H/C) locks fading to an earthy green

Small antlers sprouted from her forehead, covered in thin leather straps and glistening green beads

Pointed ears with feather earrings, nude covered by leaves seemingly hastily thrown together yet stitches from an experts hand catching his eyes

Her eyes held no pupil, (E/C) covering all of the white that a human would hold

(S/C) shining with what he could only describe as the surface of the water around him

Whats even stranger, large, translucent wings similar to that of a dragonfly sprouted from her bare back

This was definitely not a human, and yet, her beauty captivated him, despite being so otherwordly

He knew exactly what he was staring at, knew exactly what type of creature this was

A fae. A mischievous yet hauntingly beautiful being from a world other than this, mushrooms encircling an area being their highway from one play to the other

And yet, he was foolish, just now realizing he was indeed inside a fairy ring

He wanted to face palm, but his hands were still under water as he openly gawked at her. Or him. Or it. Whatever it was.

‘Don’t disrespect a fae.’ Was a warning he read in one book,

“May I have your name?” They asked politely,

‘Never ‘give’ them your name’ was another, ‘they’ll take you and your name.’

“Aiko.”

“You’re lying~” they teased, a smile on their glistening lips that looked far too alluring

“Alright, Aiko, what are you doing in this place, hm?”

What was he doing in this place? He didnt know. He stumbled upon it, and his heart pulled him forward. A strange connection formed in his soul and he couldnt let go,

“I was exploring and stumbled upon here.”

He gulped, back straight and body composed as well as he could manage whilst still sitting in the water, show respect or suffer the consequences of the danger of nature

“I apologize for not noticing this place was marked.”

“There’s no need to be sorry, little one.” They spoke with such kindness it was hard to decipher if it was a ploy or not. A hand covered in feathers and scales reached out to him, and on instinct, he grasped it, noticing how soft the feathers were and how a human palm set beneath them.

Effortlessly, they pulled him up from the water, droplets splattering on their bare, muddied legs

It was taller than him, wings fluttering seemingly happily as they smiled down, stepping aside so his feet could stand on dry ground again.

They were shoeless, he noted, thinly clothed and body covered in tattoos and words from a language he didnt speak

“You may call me (Y/N).”

“How do I know that’s you’re real name?”

“That is up to you to decide.” They giggled behind their hand

“My prince!!?” A familiar voice shouted in the far distance, his friend nearing his location

“Well, Aiko. Seems it’s time for you to go.” Though the statement was spoken in a teasing way, he couldnt help but shiver at the undertone of absoloute authority

Had he ever been so afraid yet captivated at the same time by the beauty of the forest in front of him?

“Yes..” he trailed off, looking back at his horse who stood tall and proud

“Do come again if,” they placed a finger on his bicep, “you’re ever,” they dragged their finger up his arm, across his clothed collarbone, “in,” dragging up his exposed neck, he could feel the sharpness of the claw sitting on her finger, “the area~”

Suddenly, you vanished in the oncoming breeze, leaving no footprints or clues that you were there in the first place

“There you are!” A voice cried behind him

He was quick to step out the large circle before Izuku stepped in, catching him on his wet chest as the clumsy knight tripped on a root

The ride back was filled with nothing but questions and rambles of fury

Sitting on his bed that night clad in sleepwear, all he could think about was what had happened

He went to sleep feeling oddly hot

The next morning, it felt like nothing more than a fever induced dream

How he had gotten sick was nearly unknown, medics assuming he had caught a cold when returning home in wet clothes he couldnt recall getting wet

One thing on his mind that never seemed to leave was the sudden fascination for ponds and fae

#todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #mha todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x you

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blueberryraindrops · 4 years

Text

Blueberry’s Ultimate T-Rated TUA Masterlist

KEY

Fics are organised alphabetically (articles e.g. ‘the’ will not count)

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authors can feel free to send me a msg if they want their fics’ download link taken down

Regular updates can be expected as long as I remain in the fandom

Last Update: 14/10/2020

Other Masterlists: All Fics; G-Rated; M-Rated; E-Rated

FANFICTION

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☁︎ Blood like Lemonade by Ford_Ye_Fiji { T }

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Five's sordid past comes to light in, quite possibly, the most unpleasant way

☁︎ Details [Series] by VeteranKlaus { T }

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There's no time to tell them that, though. Not with the return of their long-presumed-dead brother and the impending apocalypse. Plus, it doesn't matter. He's got Ben as a good seeing-eye ghost.

☁︎ do androids dream of electric sheep? by the_crownless_queen { T }

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Number Four is crying, and Grace was made to care for those children.

In which Grace was created to protect the children of the Academy. Even, as it turns out, from their father.

☁︎ don't waste your time (or time will waste you) by rosewitchx { T }

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Or, Five travels back again. Something goes wrong.

☁︎ Fighting (Pre)Determinism by chibi_tantei { T / WIP }

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They go back in time, determined to rewrite their own family history. Only problem is, only one of them looks the proper age to get near their younger selves.

Or, six months after Five stormed out, determined to time travel, he returns home. His siblings are happy to have him back, but he's acting differently...

(Or, Five goes undercover as himself. Twice the siblings should make saving the world easier, right? Yet somehow, he's only now realizing how many issues his family has to fix.)

☁︎ Five and Dave's Life Changing (Life Saving) Field Trip by neuronary { T }

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The little boy, who Dave could now see was not as little as he’d first thought, shoved a tin mug at him. “Drink this.”

Dave drank. It tasted sickly sweet and slightly citrus-y. “Who are you?”

“Five.” The boy’s scowl deepened at Dave’s confusion. “Klaus’ brother.”

Or, Five saves Dave's life to stop Klaus from moping. From Dave's perspective, a very grouchy, sleep-deprived twelve-year-old kidnaps him and he finds it much more entertaining than he should.

☁︎ haven't you heard of meditation? by rosesareredvioletsareblue { T }

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"Klaus, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your neck!"

Klaus felt for the glass, wincing as he found it.

"Oh yeah. Fun." It took all of Five's willpower not to throttle him.

☁︎ Hidden Variables Theory, The by siriuspiggyback { T }

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Something has disturbed the space-time continuum, and it's up to Five to figure out what it is.

With a bit of luck, and a lot of alcohol, he might even manage to do it before he snaps and murders his siblings.

☁︎ haven't you heard of meditation? by rosesareredvioletsareblue { T }

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"Klaus, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your neck!"

Klaus felt for the glass, wincing as he found it.

"Oh yeah. Fun." It took all of Five's willpower not to throttle him.

☁︎ Hidden Variables Theory, The by siriuspiggyback { T }

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Something has disturbed the space-time continuum, and it's up to Five to figure out what it is.

With a bit of luck, and a lot of alcohol, he might even manage to do it before he snaps and murders his siblings.

☁︎ i'm gonna be here til i'm nothing (but bones in the ground) by iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid { T }

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Someone definitely just punched him in the chest, right? That’s the reason for that feeling? Or that last batch of pills had something seriously off-label mixed into them. Because there’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

He squeezes his eyes shut until dots burst behind his eyelids, but when he opens them, the hallucination doesn’t go away.

“… Five?”

☁︎ if the sky comes falling down by synchronicities { T }

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The equations are still wrong.

In 2002, Number Seven wonders why her siblings are acting odd.

(Or, the post-finale “Vanya doesn’t remember the time travel” fic)

☁︎ If You're Different And You Know It (you're not alone) by M3zzaTh3M3z { T }

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☁︎ Is the sadness everlasting? (love, I think it is) by ArmedWithMyComputer { T }

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A look into what Klaus' newly discovered ability could mean for the siblings.

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☁︎ It Does(n't) Matter by MYSTERYstew { T }

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or, Five fails a jump

☁︎ Just One Minute by willowhisperer { T }

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Five holds up his end of the deal, soaked in blood. The Handler decides to toy with him a little while longer.

Maybe it's revenge, maybe she's riding the high of her shiny new position as head of the Commission.

Really, she just wants to win, once and for all.

☁︎ Lessons 'verse [Series] by Soulykins { T }

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Five times Five Hargreeves protected his siblings the best ways he could, and the one time he failed.

☁︎ Lethe by shoelaces { T / WIP }

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Le·the | A river in Hades whose waters cause drinkers to forget their past.

Or: Five loses his memories instead of Vanya, and it falls to his siblings to raise a superpowered teenager in the 1960s, all whilst preserving their own new lives and preventing yet another apocalypse.

☁︎ Like an abyss by fridayyy { T }

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☁︎ Like Oxygen by sevansa { T }

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Klaus's powers may be a bit more extensive than just seeing the dead, he's not sure what to do about that.

The one where Klaus's power is not ghosts, but souls and that makes a hell of a difference.

☁︎ Mellow Rays of a Departing Sun [Series] by Emotionally_Detached (Yeah_Toast) { T }

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He makes it. He time travels and makes it through another apocalypse. He makes it, but his siblings don't.

His siblings don't make it, except he's in his own childhood and they're still here, alive and thirteen and he can fix things.

He will fix things

☁︎ most dangerous place in the world, the [Series] by Princess_Sarcastia { T }

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"Grace is the third model in a series created by and for Sir Reginald. She has access to the knowledge obtained by her predecessors in their time assisting Sir Reginald in his many endeavors.

All three of them were primarily designed as protectors. Do no harm, just as Mr. Asimov said!

But Grace is slightly different."

[priority one: protect the children]

☁︎ New Life, A by BirdInTheCave { T }

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Allison had convinced Ray to come back to 2019 with her and her family and after a month of being cooped up in the house with the other Hargreeves plus their own unconventional guests, Ray suggests they spend some time alone. He's still struggling to fully comprehend the new world he's stepped into but he's determined that with Allison at his side he can get used to anything. Allison can't find a reason to say no. She should have said no.

Luckily for her, Five will always be there for his family, now that he's back.

☁︎ Not with me by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) { T }

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They never asked if any of that blood was his. Five is bleeding, and he is also giving up.

AU to 2X07, with hurt Five because after all that boy has been through...

☁︎ Number Five | And The Things that Make Him Tick [Series] by Kraeyola { T }

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It's only been two weeks for him.

AKA: Five succumbs to two weeks worth of badly cared for (physical and emotional) injuries, and ends up extremely feverish.

☁︎ On My Terms by CivilBores { T }

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“I did what you asked,” he tells her. “Now, the briefcase.”

Her eyebrows raise in mock-surprise, red lips curling up her face in a sadistic smile.

“You didn’t think that was all, did you?” she asks.

AU: The Handler gives Five a slightly different deal.

☁︎ Partners, Parents, or None of the Above by DarkFairytale { T }

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Kenny's mom assuming that Diego and Klaus were A) a couple and B) Number Five’s parents was both bemusing and amusing at the time. But that was because it was the only time it had ever happened. Now though? Now they just can't understand why these misunderstandings keep happening.

☁︎ rude awakening by Soulykins { T / WIP }

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When Five wakes up, he just knows someone is in the room with him. Of course, even he didn't except to come face to face with the Handler who he'd thought to be very very dead. And he especially didn't expect her to break into his room and watch him sleep while waiting for him to wake up.

It's very fortunate that Diego and Klaus show up to wake him up and take offense to some random lady in the same room as their very uncomfortable, very thirteen-year-old brother.

☁︎ Screaming in the Face of Communication by papayaromantic { T }

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It's not that he doesn't want to pay attention to Five, just that he seriously can't hear what the boy is saying past the wailing of the torn apart woman in front of him.

☁︎ shaking like I shook before by Anonymous { T }

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Five tries to deal with it alone, until he learns that he doesn’t have to.

☁︎ skirts and sweaters by slightlyworriedhuman { T }

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"I don't want to be a ‘cute little schoolboy’ anymore, alright?” Five snapped. For some reason, the thought of himself as a schoolboy was enough to make his skin prickle. Was it the implication that he was younger than the rest of them, less mature despite his life?

...Yeah, it was definitely that. Absolutely.Five wants a change in wardrobe. His siblings are more than happy to help.

☁︎ small changes by calypso42 { T }

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“I need to ask you something.” He set down the large stack of books he was carrying beside him. Klaus glanced at a few of the titles - Consciousness in the Brain - Memory & the Role of the Hippocampus - Soul vs. Matter: A Comprehensive Look at the Origins of Sentience - and grimaced.

“Are you… having an existential crisis, or something? Because I am possibly the worst person you could go to for that.”

...

When Five goes to Klaus to ask him something about his powers, Klaus doesn’t think much of it. At least, until he realizes that what he thought was simple curiosity was actually deeper than that, leading to a revelation about Five himself.

☁︎ take shelter by aloneintherain { T }

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AU where the apocalypse doesn’t follow the Hargreeves to the 1960s. Without the threat of nuclear annihilation hanging over their heads, the siblings can take the time to be a family again.

Until they find out that the Handler has been blackmailing Five.

☁︎ this is a bad town (for such a pretty face) by luciimariiellii { T }

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Five’s gone. (How the Hargreeves cope, and how they reunite.)

☁︎ to unexplain the unforgivable by darkviverna { T }

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Ability to see the dead and having a temporal assassin for a brother don’t mix well.

☁︎ Too Much Too Little by 1spideyson { T }

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Five says nothing on the ride back, just gently presses the tips of thin fingers to his eyes and temples like his head is a new instrument he’s learning to play. Like he’s searching for the right notes.

Diego tries not to cast too many worried glances the boy’s way, but when Five crawls into Diego’s bed, shaking and grey, he can’t stop himself from speaking up.

A look at Five and Diego's relationship through a h/c lens.

☁︎ Too Old To Be So Young by KaseyBeth { T }

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Five winced loudly, pushing his head off the floor to see bright red smeared across his chest and stomach; crimson soaked into his shorts, running down his leg. His head fell back against the ground dizzyingly, and he groaned as someone touched the wound, biting his bottom lip as he tried to stay conscious. The end of life, of everything, was in three days; they didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for this. A bullet wound, a stupid bullet wound and all that stupid concern and worry, was just going to slow them down. There wasn’t time for mistakes, or hiccups, or rest and recovery. It was the end of the fucking world.

☁︎ traumaversary by WeWalkADifferentPath { T }

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It follows him like an unscratched itch. Under his skin, over his body, around his energy, like a mosquito that won’t leave him the fuck alone.

April 1st. April 1st. April 1st.

(A character study of Five, with some inevitable family feels, in honour of March 24th).

☁︎ Unexpected Future, An by aseies { T / WIP }

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“I’m sure you’re looking forward to finding a way back to your own time as soon as possible,” Nedzu said. “I want you to know that U.A. will do everything in its power to help you achieve that goal. Time travel is a complicated equation to solve, but I’m sure if we put our heads together we’ll come up with something!”

Five raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And you’re just going to do that out of the goodness of your heart? I’m not even old enough for high school yet.”

“Well, we’re all heroes for a reason, no? What good are we if we can’t help a single child in need?” Nedzu pointed out with a pleasantly neutral smile as he sipped his tea.

OR: Instead of time traveling into the apocalypse, thirteen-year-old Five Hargreeves teleports in the middle of the USJ fight.

He gets a couple of new dads out of it.

☁︎ walls kept tumbling down, the by Ingu { T }

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It started small.

There was a nagging ache in his chest, phantom pain from where the bullets had pierced his flesh, in the overwritten timeline that never will be.

(the one where rewinding time doesn't miraculously resolve mortal gunshot wounds)

☁︎ We All Deserve Second Chances (but don't repeat your mistakes) by justarandomword, wolvesandnovas { T }

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Time-travelling gave Ben a second chance at life. He's not about to let Reginald Hargreeves ruin that for him and Klaus.

(a.k.a. Reginald takes Klaus' dog tags and the aftermath.)

☁︎ we didn't choose this life, we're just (kind of) living it [Series] by noodlerdoodler { T / Partially WIP }

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Five couldn’t move, standing by and watching complacently, as his younger brother grabbed him roughly by the front of his sweater. It was like he was watching a play he wasn't apart of, yet that was definitely his small body being tossed over the balcony. No doubt, Luther thought that he would just jump out of the way. He'd always jumped out of the way, sometimes without even meaning to, but now visions of a world on fire flashed through his head as his body plummeted towards the ground. Seemingly, he was tumbling through the air in slow motion and absentmindedly, Five wondered if this was his life flashing before his eyes. All he saw was the desolate world he’d left behind weeks ago.

When Five hit the ground, it was with a sickening cracking noise.

“Oh my god, Luther, what have you done?”

☁︎ with two arms by karcheri { T }

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What it comes down to, really, is that Five had been too eager for results. Once it became clear to him that there was a connection between his powers and his energy level the obvious course of action, as he saw it, was to test this information. The hypothesis was this: higher energy levels = stronger powers and the easiest way to get more energy is to eat more. Pretty simple stuff. Too simple.

or Five times that Five starves himself and one time that he gets called out on it.

☁︎ you from yesterday by questors (sieges) { T }

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The difference between who his siblings once were and who they are now.

#tua #the umbrella academy #masterlist #fic rec #blueberry's fic recs

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littledarlinwrites · 5 years

Text

Sidewalks

Pairing: Stephen Strange x surrogate daughter!reader

Word Count: 2239

Author's Note: okay, this one was a struggle (and life was not being any kinds of helpful either)! This was also my first time writing for Doctor Strange! A big thank you to @lexxierave for helping me brainstorm when I got stuck! This was a request by @littlepurplewarrior for a bit of angst to end with fluff with a surrogate father!Stephen Strange. Thank you so so so much for being so incredibly patient while I worked on this and I hope you love it!

Warnings: parental death, vague description of a panic attack sorta, angst, fluff

You were used to being alone and you were used to people leaving. Your mom left you and your dad when you were just two, not even old enough to remember her. The more shocking blow was when your dad died three years ago. You were fourteen and you were walking home from school as usual when you saw an ambulance, firetruck, and police a block away from your house. As soon as you saw the crumpled motorcycle in the street you knew what had happened. You remember dropping your knees onto the cool cement, it was spring and hadn’t been consistently warm yet, but that day had been beautiful for a ride and your dad had probably gotten the bike out to get it warmed up for the season. Ever since you figured it was safer to be alone, people always left anyway. This way they couldn’t hurt you if they couldn’t get close.

Every Wednesday Stephen would visit a little deli nearby, he had tried everything on the menu at this point at least twice, it was one of the few normal things from his life that he couldn’t shake. Maybe it was his version of comfort food, maybe it was what kept him connected with his old life, but nonetheless, he would go to that deli religiously. He recognized familiar faces, and he knew that he had never seen yours. You knew your way around though, so he knew you weren’t new. However, that wasn’t what caught his eye the most. No, what piqued his interest was the magic he could feel clear across the deli that was humming through your veins. He knew that there can be at most two Sorcerer Supremes per world at a time: there will be two Sorcerer/ess Supremes if one of them has greater skills than all others, while the other commands a greater portion of the ambient magical energies than any other, and he knew that you would be the next sorceress supreme, with guidance. He could also sense a great darkness looming within you. Not evil or doom and gloom, but more of a loneliness and deep sadness obtained from some great personal loss.

Stephen knew that if he didn't approach this carefully, he would spook you, and who knows what could happen after that. If he could so easily and clearly sense the magic coming off you in waves then that meant other sorcerers could too, ones that may want to use you if you were lucky, and kill you if you weren't. He walked over to the counter were standing at, simply acting as if he were perusing what was behind the glass. He saw the man prep your order as another worker came over and asked him if he knew what he would like to order. He rattled something off and discretely told them to put your order on his bill as well. Stephen looked you over for any clues as to your interests, you t-shirt was plain, your bag wasn't decorated with buttons like most kids your age, but you were holding a very worn book of poetry by Bukowski in your hands, and what looked like an older journal with it. He averted his eyes when you were passed your order, trying to hand your crumpled bills in your hand to the man only to be refused and told that someone else had paid for your meal. Stephen could feel your eyes upon him when the man behind the counter pointed out who had so graciously paid for you. Stephen continued to act as if he wasn't aware and paid for both meals as he was handed his. A gentle tap on his shoulder causing him to turn around.

"Thank you for paying for my meal, you really didn't have to."

"Oh it's no problem! I was a struggling college student once too. It's good to see not everyone is as caffeine addicted as I was though."

"Uhm, I'm not a college student, I actually just graduated high school."

"Oh, so the Bukowski is just a bit of light reading?" He asked inquisitively.

"Yeah, something like that." You told him with a sad smile.

"Favorite quote? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours?"

"We don’t even ask happiness, just a little less pain." He nodded his head thoughtfully.

"I never met another man I'd rather be. And even if that's a delusion, it's a lucky one." The silence was a comfortable one and Strange stretched out a shakey hand.

"Dr. Stephen Strange." He introduced himself. You shook his hand while introducing yourself to him.

"So, Y/N, tell me more about your fondness for Bukowski." Strange said as you two walked towards the park. The two of you talked poetry for hours while walking around. What were your favorite pieces, favorite authors, what made them tick, and just theories behind who they were as people.

Hours later the sun was setting as they walked around the city. Strange stopped at a doorway with 177A Bleeker St. labeled beside it.

"Well, Y/N, this is me. You okay getting home by yourself?" Strange asked.

"Uhm, yeah, I'll be fine. It was nice meeting you Dr. Strange."

"Hey, if you ever want to borrow some books I have a whole library full of them."

"I thought you were a doctor?" Your head tilted to the side confusedly. Causing a chuckle to erupt from Strange's chest, one that reminded you of your dad's.

"I was, but that's a story for a different time. Wong is actually the librarian. I just kinda keep an eye on things here."

"Oh, that's cool. Well, I look forward to the story and meeting Wong sometime."

"You sure you're gonna be alright getting home? I don't mind the walk."

"Oh no, it's alright. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow at the deli?"

"Tomorrow at the deli then."

Slowly Doctor Strange earned your trust, and quickly you looked forward to your daily deli trip. After having cut yourself off from others in fear of losing them, you forgot how nice human contact was.Strange just had such a permanence to him. As if he could never die.

Eventually, you did check out his library. Excitement trimmed through your veins as you gazed over the books, each time you entered the library you felt that way, it was like being a kid again where everything felt magical, like you saw the world through rose colored glasses. You never thought you'd feel this again after your dad passed.

One day you were in the library reading a book about magic, figuring it was some type of myth textbook. Feeling a bit childish, you decided to practice one of the spells in the book like you would when you were a kid watching a movie about magic. The spells never worked, but you couldn't help but feel nostalgic and try it out just for nostalgia sake. You moved your hands in the described pattern a small smile on your face with your eyes closed envisioning what the book described. When you open your eyes, you're amazed at the sight before you. The air was sparkling gold with what could be best described as a window in the middle. A window to the past, a happier time that brought glistening tears to your eyes. There was a white bedroom with bright colored accents, a nightlight that cast stars and constellations on the ceiling, and in the bed was a father reading to his 6 year old daughter a book of bukowski poetry, skipping over or improvising the more mature bits for something more fitting for a six year old. You could see the little girl struggling to keep her eyes open as her father's baritone voice lulled her to sleep. Once her eyes fluttered shut one last time, her father kissed her forehead before whispering "goodnight sweet pea." The window darkened before disappearing altogether. Your breathing was coming in shallow bursts, tears cascading down your face, and your heart was thudding in your ears. The tap on your shoulder nearly caused you to jump out of your skin as you turned and launched yourself backward to face Stephen. He had a cut on the left side of his face and his lip was busted. Fear clutched your heart in it's cold grip nearly stalling it. Without think you pushed yourself to your feet leaving all of you things behind as you bolted through the door and out of the building.

Stephen stood there awestruck and dumbfounded. He couldn't believe how easily you completed the spell without even knowing about your ability. However he was dumbfounded by what caused you to be so upset. The memory seemed to be a happy one. When he looked down he saw the journal on the floor, picking it up gingerly he opened the cover to see on the left a quote written, "some moments are nice, some are nicer, some are even worth writing about." Another Bukowski quote. On the right was a man's name with the same last name as yours. He began flipping through the book and it didn't take long to deduce that the man the book belonged to was your father. On the last day was an entry about taking the motorcycle out for a quick spin after a long winter before going out to what was said to be your favorite little deli. That entry was dated years ago with no new ones since. A faded, folded picture lay in the crease of that page, a man and his daughter on a carousel. One look at the picture had Stephen's gut turning. He remembered that face. Everything clicked. He had worked on your dad, but there was no saving him, even with his skilled hands at the time. Stephen figured you'd be back for the journal and book you carried with you religiously and decided to wait.

It was two weeks later when he stopped waiting. He ventured out to the deli placing an order to-go before making his way to your place. He knocked sharply on the wood before hearing a soft shuffle on the other side. When the door opened enough to get a look at who lived behind it, he wished he hadn't waited so long. Your eyes were raw and bloodshot and your hair a tangled mess of knots. Stephen pushed his way past the door frame and did something a bit uncharacteristic of himself and wrapped his arms around you as you cried. He didn't shush you, but he did rub your back with his free hand, and he let you let out all the pent up emotion before guiding you to your couch that was a few feet away. He put the bag of food in your hands gently instructing you to eat. He used magic to summon your brush and continued to use the magic to gingerly brush the knots from your hair. Once both tasks were finished you sat in companionable silence before your voice broke the silence. It was rough from disuse, but Stephen caught every word.

"I never knew my mom. She uh, left when I was like two. It was me and him ever since. He would always read me poetry to get to sleep. Bukowski was his favorite. He would take me to the deli, it was our favorite little place to go when we ate out. We were supposed to go-" your voice cracked halting your sentence. You took a deep breath and carried on.

"You remind me a lot about him, you know. You have the same laugh. You just seemed so permanent. Like you'd never leave, like you couldn't get hurt. I mean, you probably think that's childish of me, but, it's just how it seemed. And then I did that spell, and I didn't think it would work, but it did, and you showed up and you were hurt, and I just don't think I can handle it when you leave too because people always seem to leave me and-" you began to hyperventilate and Stephen put his shakey hands on your arms, grounding you.

"I can't promise that I'll never leave, but I can tell you that I won't leave willingly. Everybody has to leave at some point. Somebody once said, 'every song has a CODA, a final movement. Whether it fades out or crashes away, every song ends. Is that any reason not to enjoy the music? The truth is, there is nothing to be afraid of. It's just life.' One day you'll have your own CODA, does that mean you should die now?"

"N-no." You stutter out between sniffles and a small smile lit up the doctors face.

"It's going to be okay you know. There’s no shame in being afraid. We’re all afraid."

"Even you?"

"Yeah, even me."

"How do you face it?"

"Get comfortable kid, this is going to be a long story." The two of you settled in on the couch as Stephen described to you all the times he was scared. The world not only became a little less lonely, but also a little less scary.

"there are worse things

than being alone

but it often takes

decades to realize this

and most often when you do

it's too late

and there's nothing worse

than too late"

-Charles Bukowski

#stephen strange x daughter!reader #stephen strange #surrogate daughter #surrogate father #doctor strange #doctor strange x daughter!reader #doctor stephen strange

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years

Text

Summer Books Reviews

I’ve said I’d do a book review for the Grisha verse and then I remembered I also said I’d try to do more book reviews because of reasons (like the fact I had a book blog once upon a time, you know) so I thought I’d do a pot pourri of my summer readings.

I’m actually happy because I read a lot this summer. I think I managed a book a week give or take, without taking into account the various comics (I’ve read all the Buffy comics I could find, sue me, I am in a PHASE). So without further ado, here are my summer reads with a short review that may or may not be spoilerish.

The Night Circus – Erin Morgensten: I think I talked about this one already actually. I gave it a 5/5 on goodreads even though it took me a while to really get into it. It’s very very slow paced and although I liked the characters, I think it’s one of those books you either love or hate. The atmosphere is everything, it’s really awesome because the circus itself is like a character of sort. I loved the two main characters – I loved all the characters actually and I loved how the ending tied back to the beginning as well as the whole meta-reflection about storytelling and stories in general. I think it’s definitely not for everyone but it’s really worth a go.

The Stolen Throne (Dragon Age #1) – David Gaider: I gave it 4/5 on Goodreads. Well it’s no secret by now that I love fantasy and video games and that Dragon Age might be my most favorite franchise. Hell, how many times did I play the whole series by now? I think I’m at three Wardens, Two Hawkes, and at least 4 or 5 inquisitors. This first novel takes place decades before Origins and it was nice to have some more context than just the codex you find on the games. I think the story works very well without further knowledge of the games and everything and it was a nice little fantasy story. I adore Loghain, you have to understand and what I loved about the love triangle (and you won’t hear me say I love a love triangle often so enjoy) is that… They all could be together. I mean, I’m not really into OT3 but for the three of them I’d do an exception.

The Mercy Thompson Series – Patricia Briggs: I re-read the whole series which took me I think more or less the whole July month since there are ten books. I can tell you I give this serie a definite 5/5. It had been so long since I read it and I hadn’t finished it so I thought why not? If you love urban fantasy (modern world with vampires, werewolves, witches and the likes) this series is for you. I just love Mercy. I love the way the author handles sexual trauma as well as trauma in general. I mean, often it’s trashy and written for shock value ( I’m looking at you Career of Evil) and here it’s just… very well handled. It doesn’t fade in the background after a book, it’s something Mercy has to deal with recurrently, it’s just a master lesson in how to write trauma. BUT those books are also full of fun, love and family. I love all the characters in there and I plan on reading the spin off series very soon.

Opal (The Raven Cycle 4.5) – Maggie Stiefvater: Ok it’s a novella but it still counts. I gave it 2/5 and nobody is more disappointed than me by this rating given how much I loved the Raven Cycle (go read if you haven’t seriously). It just… Didn’t click for me. The point of view was very limited, it was hard to relate and it left too many stuff unexplored. But I guess it’s just a way to link TRC with the next series and I’m still very much hyped for what comes next whenever it comes.

Ready Player One – Ernest Cline: ah, that one. I slaved through it. I gave it a 1/5 but really I think it would be more of a 0.5/5. To me, it’s one of those rare rare times when you can say the movie was better than the book. What was even this book? I hated it. This book is an enabler. I say this being an introvert who has problems with social situation and who love video games, considers herself a geek and proud to be and had grown up in the 90s. This book is an enabler. It gives far too much excuses and never quite set out a clear morale. And it was boring. Really, I was surprised by the movie. I liked it a lot more than I expected it too – probably because it was very little like the book.

Fairest Of Them All: A Tale of The Wicked Queen – Serena Valentino: Another one I was disappointed it. I had a strike unfortunately. I gave it 1/5. It was all very… shallow. I wished for more depth and characterization but it was all very confused and confusing. I have little more to say about this one because I honestly don’t even remember. It was that unremarkable. I know I’ve read better fanfictions.

The Infinite Sea/The Last Star (The 5th Wave #2 and #3) – Rick Yancey: I’ve read those two back to back because I knew after The Infinite Sea I would never read the last one if I waited. I gave 2/5 to The Infinite Sea and 3/5 to The Last Star. I was so pumped by the 5th Wave. I remember reading it what… Two years ago? And I loved it. It was fresh and interesting, lots of plot twists… First thing I didn’t like about both books were the shifting povs. Some pov are first person (like Cassie’s, the main character) and some are third person. And that’s just plain weird. I know I have a problem with pov, I usually don’t like first person pov much but re-reading Mercy Thompson helped me get back on that horse. But if you constantly shift from I to he/she, it gets annoying really fast. The second book is mostly full of length and doesn’t have much happening except for Ringer (but I will come back to Ringer) and the third one was… confusing. Ok maybe I’m very dumb but I didn’t get it. Were they really aliens, was it all a plot, who were the real villains… I didn’t get it. The only positive point of both books was: RINGER. She’s the best character ever and she’s the only reason I slaved through those two books. She’s an ass kicking bad ass with a tactical mind to rival all and although the love story with Ben and the spoilerish thing I won’t talk about but let me say REALLY could have been maybe introduced a little better and would have deserved some more depth, I really really loved her arc. I saw a people say the ending was cliché and I might have thought so too but I think if the writing had been consistent and a little better, it might have been emotional despite the cliché.

The Secret Wife – Gill Paul: I gave it 1/5 I’m not even going to talk about it because I skimmed through the last of the book because it was SO bad I couldn’t keep reading. The premise looked soooo good, I usually love the dual present/past story and the Romanov aspect made me very interested but it was badly written and boring and simply meh.

Shadow & Bones / Siege & Storm / Ruin & Rising (The Grisha #1, #2, #3) – Leigh Bardugo: We’re here at last. OMG. Did I love this trilogy (with it’s many linking novellas?) YOU BET. I gave them all 5/5. Let me tell you something, this is MY JAM. I loved Alina Starkov. I LOVED her. She’s so relatable. All the cast of characters is amazing. The writing is just as amazing and I think it’s safe to say I will read anything by this author because I trust her completely. If you love fantasy, young adult and a good villain, this is the story for you. I didn’t like the main ship I won’t lie. I would have loved a good redemption final twist and the love interest was a little too bland compared to the villain and the King but… It didn’t spoil my enjoyment at all. I’m so HYPED on this verse right now.

The Obsession – Nora Roberts: I’m a big fan of Nora, I’ve read a lot of her books and I was a bit disappointed in this one. I gave it a 2/5. The story is okay and it’s nice to read. I mean, it reads easily, it doesn’t as for a lot of reflection. It’s a good story all in all and I would have put it a 3 or a 4 if not for something that has been jumping at me for the last couple of her books I read. I’m not one to jump up and down and scream misogyny at every turn but there’s a certain idea of a woman in her books that is starting to make me a bit… meh. Let me be clear. The male lead is cliché as can be, full of testosterone, riding a bike, a mechanic, a dog lover with a sensitive side because of course he loves books and while the female promised to be extremely strong and independent career woman, it’s not long before we fall into the a happy woman = a husband, a dog and a kid cliché. And that bothered me.

Six Of Crows (Six of Crows #1) – Leigh Bardugo: Ok there was such a hype around this one I was a little disappointed when I read it. I’m not much into incredible heist stories and to be fair, I read it right after I saw Ocean’s 8 (which was awesome) and it suffered from the (unfair and unconscious) comparison. I gave it a 2/5 BUT this being said I just loved the characters. I was already one hundred percent on board the Kaz/Inej train (didn’t you hear me shout as I passed by?) and the Jesper/Wylan one. Matthias and Nina both left me a little indifferent I will admit and I had troubles with so many povs crammed in one book. It was lot of information everywhere and from every angle. I’m still happy I read it, do you know why? I will tell you. First I love the Grisha universe and it takes place in the same world a few years after and then: CROOKED KINGDOM BABY.

The Lies They Tell – French Gillian : I gave this one a 3/5. It’s a little detective story that reads very easily. It’s nothing exceptional but it will give you a good time.

Kindred Spirits – Rainbow Rowell: I have a problem with short stories/novellas. Always had. it always leaves me wanting more and that was my problem with my book. The moment I got into it, it ended so I gave it a 2/5 but it was really cool nonetheless. Would have liked to read more.

Crooked Kingdom (Six Of Crows #2) – Leigh Bardugo: OMG OMG OMG OMG. Ok, needless to say I gave this one a 5/5. I finished it yesterday so I’m still very much having FEELS. Maybe I wasn’t that much in Six of Crows but this book makes the read worth it, I promise. THIS IS JUST AMAZING. THE FEELS. FEELS EVERYWHERE. Kaz and Inej and their perfect love. Matthias… Nina and her addiction… Jesper and Wylan being cutiepies. I cried at the end. Do you know how often I cry reading books? very much not often. What I mean is: READ IT. READ THE WHOLE GRISHA VERSE. DO IT. DO IT. YOU NEED TO MEET DIRTHANDS AND HIS WRAITH. YOU NEED TO. THIS BOOKS IS PERFECT. IT WILL GIVE YOU FEELS. IT WILL GIVE YOU LIFE.

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randrecommends · 7 years

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Review: Little Fires Everywhere

Book: Little Fires Everywhere

Author: Celeste Ng

Release date: September 12, 2017

Summary: In Shaker Heights, a placid, progressive suburb of Cleveland, everything is planned -- from the layout of the winding roads, to the colors of the houses, to the successful lives its residents will go on to lead. And no one embodies this spirit more than Elena Richardson, whose guiding principle is playing by the rules. Enter Mia Warren -- an enigmatic artist and single mother -- who arrives in this idyllic bubble with her teenaged daughter Pearl, and rents a house from the Richardsons. Soon Mia and Pearl become more than tenants: all four Richardson children are drawn to the mother-daughter pair. But Mia carries with her a mysterious past and a disregard for the status quo that threatens to upend this carefully ordered community. When old family friends of the Richardsons attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, a custody battle erupts that dramatically divides the town--and puts Mia and Elena on opposing sides. Suspicious of Mia and her motives, Elena is determined to uncover the secrets in Mia's past. But her obsession will come at unexpected and devastating costs.

Rating: ✩✩✩✩

*SPOILER FREE*

Okay, being honest I had never heard of Celeste Ng before watching John Green’s video “Let’s Talk About Books”. It took me quite a while to get into this book, which is why it took me so long to finish it (over a month), I also had lots of school stuff to focus on, but that’s beside the point. I went into this book not really sure what it was about, I wanted to be blind whilst reading it, I refused to look for any book reviews on it that would discourage me from reading it and I was so glad to have done that because it turned out to be one of the best books I’ve read this year.

Ng’s writing is so beautiful and it touches you in ways you never thought possible, she found a way to tie in the simplest of objects with things so heartfelt and meaningful it took my breath away. The constant shift from point of views as the story developed served to create a breathtaking “big picture” effect, which Ng pretty much perfects. Although the writing seemed slow at first, with not much happening in the plot, it quickly became much more interesting as the story developed, though the slowness of pace was completely understandable, looking back at it now.

The plot, I really wish words were enough to discuss how important I think this novel is and how wonderful it was to read. From familial love to fleeting, high school romances this book highlights the importance of communication and understanding within a relationship. From Lexie and Brian’s relationship to Mia and Pearl’s relationships were filled with so much realness, it wasn’t an unrealistic, almost fantasy-like element you find in many books where imperfections and anger are glossed over in order to create a better world. Ng talks about Shaker and its community, and through each character’s view you get to see the little flaws that overtime, are shown to be the root cause of a vast majority of the problems found as the story develops.

Ng also calls attention to casual racism we see thrown around quite often, and points it out through the point of view of both the white characters and the characters of color, other problematic behavior is shown in the book which we experience in our daily lives which really impressed me.

The characters of the novel were exceptional. None of the characters ever felt two-dimensional and boring, all of them were rather exciting to read about and come to understand. It’s not what you’d expect, as Ng illustrates to the reader, appearances are not everything, especially in regards to the citizens of Shaker Heights.

Overall I loved this book, and I hope to pick up Ng’s first novel, “Everything I Never Told You”. Her prose was a delight, and her story along with everything in it were magical.

*SPOILERS*

Okay, Little Fires Everywhere, was a wild ride.

The way Ng carefully crafted this novel is enchanting, and the way she slowly peeled back the layers and unfolded the details of the plot I was taken aback. Right off the bat we have the Richardsons and the Warrens, two completely different families, from two different worlds. The Warrens have spent most as nomads really, moving from city to city whenever Mia finished a project, never really laying claim to one singular place to call “home”, and you see the relationship between Mia and Pearl as tender and closely-knitted (which they are). More than that, Mia was an understandable mother, never invading her daughter’s space and always making it known to Pearl that she was on her side. It helps that Pearl is an exceptional daughter, she’s emotionally mature for her age, understanding when not to press her mother for details she wasn’t ready to share with her, and her unapologetic intelligence made her a lovable and reliable character. The Richardsons on the other hand were, right off the bat, shown as a distant family, from the parents all the way down to the youngest Izzy. They did bond over certain things like watching Jerry Springer every afternoon when none of them were busy, but otherwise they weren’t very close.

Moody and Pearl’s friendship is the first real friendship Pearl has, now that she knows they won’t be leaving Shaker she can allow herself to become attached to someone, they start off so tenderly, inseparable at first but eventually too much comes between them and they’re broken apart. Moody clearly was infatuated with Pearl from the start, the way he viewed her screamed high school crush and it continued throughout her stay in Shaker. Pearl never returned those feelings for Moody, though she knew how she felt about him. These unrequited feelings are cleverly shown when Moody gives Pearl her birthday gift, a leather moleskin notebook for her poetry. Moody thinks of it as a sentimental gift because now, when she wrote the poetry she loved in that notebook she would think of him, and later it’s revealed that she never even opened it, let alone wrote in it. I liked Moody in the beginning of the novel, but as the story progressed and eventually came to an end I found myself leaning more towards disliking him. Moody wasn’t a bad person, he just made some bad judgement calls out of anger, but that was what eventually drove Pearl away from him. His anger at Pearl when he realized her relationship with her brother Trip was evident when he told her that she was just another consort to Trip, unimportant and easily interchangeable and when he told Trip that she played them both. He was an insecure kid, as he clearly is constantly self deprecating in his point of view, and to be honest I can see why she didn’t return his feelings.

Lexie and Pearl, they became so close in such a short span of time (all of the Richardson kids did) but it was clear that this time, Pearl held a sort of fascination for all things Lexie. At the start of the novel we see that as Lexie started becoming close to Pearl, Pearl began to adopt everything Lexie into her life, from changing her wardrobe to channeling a “Lexie attitude” at school after wearing one of her shirts. We see that Lexie is a privileged senior who lives in a bubble of her whiteness, unaware of the very real racial problems in the world. She often says things like “I mean, we’re lucky. No one sees race here.” She thinks that because she is in an interracial relationship that automatically indicates the lack of racism found in Shaker Heights, which is revealed to not be true later on in the novel when the trial begins. Lexie is self-centered, but it wasn’t acquired consciously, it was something she grew up with so she doesn’t realize how incredibly selfish she is when she makes decisions. When she goes to the abortion clinic under Pearl’s name, consequences be damned, she does it without a second thought, like it doesn’t occur to her how problematic this one action is. Later, she justifies it by saying her mother is friends with the director, so she can’t be caught. Regardless of this, Pearl is infatuated with her, eager to please her and be there for Lexie should she ever need it, which is why I assume she never made it an issue that Lexie had gotten an abortion under Pearl’s name.

Trip and Pearl, there isn’t much to say about them because their story was never really a highlight in the novel. What I did love about their relationship was how easily they communicated, when Moody confronts Trip at the end of the novel Trip thinks about how easy it was to talk to Pearl about things he never thought he could discuss with any girl from Shaker Heights. He thinks about all the things he likes about Pearl and it’s obvious to the reader that Trip had genuine feelings for Pearl.

Izzy didn’t develop a strong relationship with Pearl, not the way the other three Richardson children did, she did however develop a strong bond with Peal’s mother, Mia. Izzy is a character I think everyone can relate to at times, she was amongst the highlights of this book. As the story progressed I found myself sympathizing with Izzy, she was a lonely kid, and as noted from those around her she was often treated differently from her siblings by her mother. She had a shaky relationship with her family, often being labeled as the impulsive, embarrassing child of the four. She didn’t seem to mind it at first, but the way she latched onto Mia and adored her illustrated a different story from the first impression we get of Izzy. She is incredibly smart and mature for someone her age, but we see how much she longed for some sort of strong familial love, which makes her so sad. She saw her family for the selfish and shallow people they were, even Moody (whom she held in high regard at the start of the novel). Mia gives her the affection she so deeply craved, and Izzy found any reason to be with her, as shown when she begs Mia to take her in as her assistant of sorts. She took Mia’s words at the end literally and took matters into her own hands, getting retribution for all the Richardsons had done to the Warrens by burning their house down and running away in hopes of catching up to the Warrens.

Mrs. Richardson was deeply flawed, as the story progressed we could see how she shed her image of the allegedly perfect mother and wife to this sad woman who really placed too much into the way people viewed her and her family, as shown in her treatment of Izzy. We do get a view as to why she treated Izzy the way she did, and the revelation was astounding because after all she had done to ensure Izzy’s safety, Izzy still ran away and it was largely her fault. Mrs. Richardson was quick to become angry, and when she became angry she made brash decisions. She digs into Mia’s past under the guise of caring for her friend, but she had no real justification for the enormous invasion of privacy committed. Mrs. Richardson, like her daughter, lives in a bubble, she chooses not to go to Oberlin because the protestors and more open environment. She is manipulative and uses Pearl to try and discover Mia’s secrets, which she does. Later, she uses Mia’s secrets to push her out of town unjustly, because she assumed that Pearl had gotten the abortion since Lexie registered under her name.

Bebe and the McCulloughs. This is where Ng really clarifies the racial differences in their society that they choose not to focus on. When the McCulloughs first learned they were able to adopt May Ling - or as they called her, Mirabelle - the only real effort they made to be able to raise her and keep her connection to her culture was to hang up “chinese” art in their home. They argue that as Mirabelle grows, they were going to learn Chinese and learn about her culture together, not really placing an emphasis on whether or not she really has a connection to her home culture. When Mrs. McCullough is called to the stand, she makes comments that have such a casual air of racism and prejudice to them when asked about how she and her husband were to ensure Mirabelle doesn’t lose touch with her culture, she eventually grows frustrated and argues that love is more important than growing up connected to Mirabelle’s culture. Ng creates a strong case, the McCulloughs were financially equipped to be able to support the little girl and they were the ones to raise her for the past fourteen months, whereas Bebe left her daughter in front of the fire-station, thus relinquishing her rights to the child to the state. Bebe however, argues that with her circumstances she did what she thought would be best for her daughter especially given the fact that she was not financially equipped to care for her daughter at the time, but now she had gotten her act together and had a steady full-time job, nothing compared to the McCullough’s salary, she says that she deserves a second chance seeing as though she was the real mother of May Ling. Ultimately, the judge decides that custody should be granted to the McCulloughs, but Bebe waits till they are asleep to take her child back and travel back to her home country where, they were not to be traced.

Mia’s backstory was finally revealed to us towards the end of the novel, and it was so fulfilling. Her story showed when she first became interested in art, the close-knit relationship she had with her younger brother Warren (whom she called Wren), it showed us her shaky relationship with her parents that eventually fell through once she showed up pregnant with the Ryan’s baby. We come to understand why she never wants to go to New York, and we get a glimpse of her life in New York as an art student. Her relationship with Pauline Hawthorne is explained and, it was a touching story, when she came back to New York upon learning that Pauline was sick, it broke my heart. I loved learning about Mia, mostly because she was such a mystery, but because it offered so many answers to questions I’ve wanted answered from the start of the novel. It showed us how she became a surrogate for the Ryan’s and how she, eventually, ran away with the child. And how, eventually she made her way to Shaker Heights.

There’s a lot more to be discussed, but I loved this book so much and it really touched me. Celeste’s writing was captivating, her story much more so.

With that being said, I’d like to address the reason why I gave this book four stars instead of five. I mentioned previously that I loved the shifting point of views (and I do), but the rate at which is shifted caused confusion for me as a reader. Sometimes I found myself rereading a passage because it shifted point of views in the midst of it. I think it could have been more tightly edited so that no confusion would occur for the reader.

Another important thing to be discussed is the trial. By the end of the sub-story it felt like there was still so much of it that could have been more fleshed out. All in all, the sub-plot felt rushed in a way and I would have greatly preferred it otherwise.

Lastly, Mia’s past. Maybe this is just me, but I would have really liked it if Mia’s story was spaced out in a way instead of compiled all into one chapter. It also felt like we were supposed to side with Mia no matter what she had done. It even offers an “excusable” backstory to the way Pearl grew up, which I wouldn’t have minded had Ng not justified it.

Overall, I really genuinely enjoyed reading this novel. The familial and platonic relationships were heartwarming, the characters were relatable in a way, and the plot was relatively well fleshed out and offered up all the answers the reader needed.

#little fires everywhere #book reviews #book review #celeste ng #adult fiction #john green

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biofunmy · 5 years

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The Subway Crush Who Crushed Me

We met on the subway on a Saturday morning nearly 14 years ago. Our meeting had been a long time coming. He had been my subway crush for four years.

I had met him once or twice at those early 20s apartment parties in New York, the kind with opened bags of tortilla chips on Formica counters, gloppy salsa poured into Ikea bowls, bottles of cheap liquor lined up next to red Solo cups and cigarettes smoldering in ashtrays on fire escapes, with illicit activity happening in the bathrooms or right on the coffee table.

He had been dating a co-worker of mine, a woman named Lana, and then he wasn’t, but he was still around, just out of sight, just out of reach. I liked him. A lot.

His name was Ronen, but to me and my friends he was known as “that Israeli guy” and then, months later, as “subway crush.”

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I would see him sometimes in the morning on the way to work, at my stop in Carroll Gardens. I would fidget on the other side of the concrete pole separating us as the F train pulled up and watch him when the crowds parted: He was tall with black hair and a beard. Big hands. He listened to music. He read. He was never with another woman.

Seven years passed. Sometimes months would go by and he would disappear. Occasionally I would ride the train with some other guy and hope to see him so he would see me with this other guy.

I never did. I also never saw him in the neighborhood, although he clearly lived nearby.

When we finally met on that fateful Saturday, my voice shook. He was with my old co-worker, the woman he used to date, Lana, and her newish husband, Max, Ronen’s best friend to whom he had introduced her. She and Ronen had not been a match, but Lana and Max were. And Ronen was part of that love.

Lana said hello and Ronen followed and I said, “I see you on the subway all the time!” Too loudly, I’m sure.

“I see you all the time,” he said in a voice that was not at all the voice I had imagined him having. And his smile — it brightened his face like a light bulb. I found myself squinting as it shone down on me. And smiling back.

A week later we went on a date. Six months later I moved in. One year later we were engaged and a year after that, married. I could not believe I had been right, that my intuition about Ronen had been so spot on.

And then the universe punched me right in my smug, dumb face.

Eight years and two beautiful sons later, Ronen left for work from our home in Decatur, Ga., and never returned. During the day, blood vessels suddenly ruptured in his brain and he fell into a coma from which he never emerged. A week later, he died.

Inside that beautiful head, behind that megawatt smile, had been a ticking time bomb, an arteriovenous malformation — a rare tangle of abnormal and poorly formed blood vessels prone to hemorrhage and rupture — that was lying in wait to devastate him and the many people who cared for him.

No one saw it coming. I certainly had not. The thought had never entered my mind — that Ronen could be here one morning and be gone by that same afternoon.

It was near 100 degrees the day of the funeral, the sun beating mercilessly on the heartbroken crowd. Later, my father would say to me, “I’ve never seen a crowd like that. It was like J.F.K.’s funeral or something.”

And it was.

Friends and family had flown in from all over the world to pay their respects, not quite believing that this kind of tragedy could befall Ronen, the kind of man that lent sparks of life-affirming energy to everything he did.

And there I was, holding the hand of our 5-year-old, our 2-year-old sucking a lollipop on my lap, the “Ema?” “Ema?” “Ema?” questions already relentless. Ema is the Hebrew word for mother. I had always assumed I would be “Mom,” but I became an Ema. Ronen was Aba and I was Ema. That’s how we worked.

Sweat rolled down my legs as tears fell from my eyes. What in the world had happened? Never in a million years did I foresee this unfair fate. It had no resemblance to my childhood, and I had nothing to compare it to. How on earth was I going to be a single mother? How could it be that their father was gone? Time would press on, we would all — hopefully — age, and Ronen would be forever 44.

It’s been two and a half years. I look for him. Is that him, that hawk circling overhead? Or that butterfly flitting through the back yard? But these things don’t resonate.

I have a recurring dream in which he has left me for another woman, and I’m so angry I want to scream. I do not like this dream. My wise friend, Pam, suggested that perhaps it’s my subconscious trying to give me a replacement explanation for his absence, one that makes some sort of sense, and I can see that.

But why pile pain on top of pain? Couldn’t I just see him in a white robe? Couldn’t he just give me one of his famous hugs? That I would much prefer.

And my intuition. I don’t trust it like I used to, but time has pressed a sort of reset button on my senses. All of them, but especially this: I have come to understand the difference between intuition and clairvoyance. Trusting your gut and following your heart is intuition. I am no clairvoyant and never claimed to be.

So there is a difference. Just because I failed to foresee Ronen’s untimely and unjust death does not mean I can’t listen to (once in a while, when it’s especially loud) that inner voice in my head, that fluttering of recognition in my chest. I may be heartbroken, but I would fall in love with and marry Ronen all over again.

I would.

Once when we were dating, Ronen said something to me that I hold deep in my heart, still. We were people-watching in South Beach when he turned to me and said, “Sometimes I look at you and forget that you’re my girlfriend, and I think God, she’s so beautiful. Like you’re a stranger but then I realize that you’re not and I’m just so proud.”

I’d never heard something more romantic. It didn’t matter if other men saw me that way or not; it was that he did. And the fact that he would so effortlessly say that to me as steel drums played and the sun set in the pink sky made my heart explode into a million songbirds.

I see Ronen in our boys, Ari and Lev. Seven-year-old Ari is built exactly like Ronen, tall and thin with yeti feet and impossibly long toes. And his face is Ronen’s, as are his facial expressions. He was too young when Ronen died to imitate those expressions, and yet here they are: Ronen’s look of wonder, his goofy grin, the way his smile lights up his brown eyes. There he is.

And Lev, my 4-year-old. He resembles me more than Ronen, but the things he says! Ronen used to tell me to hug him “harder.” “Harder!” he would say until I could barely breathe.

Lev says the same thing, with the exact same inflection.

Our boys channel him. They say things that knock the wind out of me.

Once while I was sitting poolside, barefaced and dripping, at my friend’s parents’ house in Florida, Lev stood in the shallow end and looked at me. Really looked at me.

“What?” I said, patting my head for who knew what.

“Ema,” he said. “You look so beautiful.”

Another time, putting Ari to sleep, before I left the room, he said, “Ema?”

“Yes?”

“You’re more beautiful than you think you are.”

These are not the normal kinds of things I imagine little boys saying to their mother. Not with this kind of eerie, otherworldly conviction. And I swear, I haven’t bribed them. The only explanation I can come up with is Ronen. Speaking through them.

It’s what he would say to me now, if he could. If he were here like he should be.

Intuitively, absolutely, I feel this in my bones; I hear him in their voices.

Time has replanted a few seeds of optimism in the new, forever altered soil of me. My heart can and should still be followed.

And I am grateful for the growth.

Zoe Fishman, who lives in Decatur, Georgia, is the author of several novels, most recently “Invisible as Air.” She is @zoefishman76 on Twitter.

Modern Love can be reached at [email protected].

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theauthorfiles-blog · 7 years

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Meet Marika Ray!

TAF: Pull up a chair. Let’s break the ice shall we? Knowing that you have a love of the beach, let’s pretend that you are in a Jaws or Shallows type situation. You have to choose three people to help you fight off and survive the shark attack. A lifeguard, a paramedic, and a friend. Who would they be and why?

MR: First of all, I would absolutely want my husband there. He’s so good at spotting things far out in the distance. Like he’s got some crazy bionic eye or something! And he used to be a lifeguard back in high school, so I’d definitely want him in this scenario as a lifeguard. For my friend, I’d want my girl Amanda. She’s pretty level headed and a ride-or-die kind of girl. She even swiped a huge bug out of my eye one time while hiking so I know she’d pull through in case of any shark drama. For the paramedic, I’d choose my grandfather. I know what you’re thinking: how’s a 97-year-old guy gonna help?? Well, you said pretend, so that’s what I’m doing! That man is the most multi-talented guy I know. He was in battle during WWII, he worked construction, he cooks, he reupholsters furniture, he even sewed tiny flowers onto my veil for my wedding. If a shark took a bite out of me, my grandpa is the man to put me back together.

TAF: Okay now that we know how you intend to survive every beach lover’s nightmare, tell us a little more about you for my readers that haven’t yet had the privileged to curl up with one of your books!

MR: My first book just came out on February 22, 2018, so I’m sure most of your readers haven’t heard about me yet! So…hi!! I’m a little awkward, but I own it, dammit! I am a Jill-of-all-trades. I’ve worked in physical therapy, special interest lobbying, internet start-ups, finance, owned my own business, and I love to write. Basically, once I get turned onto something, I dive in. Like, waaaay deep. If I have no interest, I can’t be bothered. I love learning new things and am ridiculously positive by nature. I feel calm and centered at the beach and I grew up in southern California, so the Beach Squad series is close to my heart. I’m a coffee addict and I love snuggling with my daughter. And lastly, I have a ton of stories floating around in my head that I can’t wait to get on paper!

TAF: Have you ever Googled yourself?

MR: I’ve googled my real name and there are some crazy pictures that show up…one of the reasons why I love writing with a pseudonym. lol

TAF: Do you have an evil day job or do you write full time?

MR: I have a part-time day job that I actually love. Not quite as much as writing though. I’m blessed to be doing exactly what I love to do.

TAF: Do you see yourself in any of your characters?

MR: Esa, in Sweet Dreams, has a habit of mixing up her phrases. That character trait was totally written from first-hand experience! I mix my phrases up constantly…it’s bad…

TAF: Do you listen to music while writing?

MR: Yes, I usually have some easy listening top 40 type music in the background. Not loud enough that I can make out lyrics though as that derails my brain. I also diffuse oils on my desk. I basically try to create a really cozy experience so I continue to always love writing.

TAF: What are your favorite hobbies?

MR: Don’t unfriend me over this, but I love to workout!! I love the mental release of sweating and listening to loud music while I move my body. That doesn’t mean I’m a skinny little thing…’cause I also equally love to eat! lol Other hobbies are surfing (which I learned how to do at the ripe ol’ age of 38), reading (been a fan of books since I read Little House on the Prairie) and trying new recipes.

TAF: What are your guilty pleasures?

MR: Definitely chocolate and romance books, the spicier the better! The books, not the chocolate…

TAF: If you could be one of your characters, who would you chose?

MR: I definitely would love to be Bailey, Esa’s best friend! She is so sassy and doesn’t put up with shit from anybody. I was always a bit shy and could have used some backbone in my younger years. It would be fun to live as her for a bit where you just say what you’re thinking, and everybody still loves you.

TAF: If I were to buy you a book for your birthday or just because I am such total awesomeness, what genre would I need to scour?

MR: Romance is my first choice, of course! But I also secretly love YA. I love all the angst and firsts and finding your power drama….it’s nice to read about it, knowing I’m well beyond that point in my own life! lol I also enjoy suspense and I have a few ideas of my own for some twisty suspenseful reads in the future.

TAF: State a random fact about yourself that would surprise your readers.

MR: I grew up in a religion that’s now been officially labeled a cult. Being graphic with sex scenes in my books has been a liberating experience, as that was totally taboo to talk about growing up.

TAF: In closing, tell us a bit about your latest release (& share a yummy excerpt for those who aren’t yet familiar with your work)

MR: My latest and first release is Sweet Dreams, a stand-alone novel in the Beach Squad Series. It’s about a lifeguard and his fearless lady, Esa. Her story shows you what a strong woman she is, yet she still has fears like we all do. In this book, she faces a stalker and she faces herself, seeing if she can open up and let love back into her heart after it’s been broken.

Excerpt

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 6, before they’ve become an official couple.

I was just pulling my pjs on when Ivan knocked softly on the door. "Are you decent?" he called before stepping into the room.

"Just barely!" I said while my stomach went mushy. This felt intimate somehow. Wearing our pjs, talking in my bedroom. Like we were playing house together. I was nervous, but in a good way.

"Damn, I missed the show.” He teased me with a half-smile, half-leer. "Turn around so I can change too. Or you can watch, it doesn't bother me."

"Ivan!" I said, flushing red. I turned around and heard clothes rustling as he changed pants. I walked toward my bed and climbed up on the quilt and sat down facing him, sinking a few inches into the pillows.

The red in my cheeks didn't go anywhere as I got to check him out with pajama pants hung low on his hips. His feet were bare and thank the Lord, he had nice looking boy feet. Feet weren't attractive most of the time and so many guys had nasty feet. Total deal killer. But not Ivan.

My eyes drifted back up, and I saw the sexy, male muscle bumps on either side of his hip bones. I think Abercrombie made them famous a decade or two ago. It's like they were arrows leading to the treasure. I could literally feel my lips burning as I thought about getting my mouth on them. Five years without a hint of a sex drive and I'd gone from zero to sixty in one date. I would have to turn on the ceiling fan to cool it off in here.

And then I took in the abs, and the pecs, and the biceps. All tan, all bumpy with muscle, a few strategically placed veins in all the right places. A faint scattering of dark blond chest hair tapered into a subtle happy trail, disappearing into his pants. Good God. My face burned even brighter and my eyes glazed over. That man was straight up lethal and I wasn't sure I could handle it. I mean, he was a California beach lifeguard. They made a TV show out of hottie lifeguards! He had to stay in shape for his job, he had women drooling over him all day, he took action in dangerous situations. And now he was in my bedroom, half dressed and looking at me with hooded eyes, taking in my pajama-clad self in bed.

He walked toward me and I swear it was more of a prowl than a walk. Not much to do but try to take it all in and burn it to memory. I could have jumped up and moved us to the living room, but the sexy side of me that literally just woke up from its long slumber wouldn't let me. I was frozen in place and I think Ivan knew it.

He reached the side of the bed. He lifted one leg, climbed up, and sat criss-cross-applesauce in front of me, knees touching mine. I could feel his heat and I was drawn to it, just like his familiar scent that surrounded me with him this close. He leaned in and touched his lips to my cheek. "Relax, Esa," he whispered against my cheek.

Author Bio

Marika Ray spends her time behind a computer crafting stories, walking the beaches of Southern California scoping out the lifeguards, and making healthy food for her kids and husband whether they like it or not. Prior to writing novels, Marika held various jobs in the finance industry, with private start-up companies, and then in health & fitness. Cats may have nine lives, but Marika believes everyone should have nine careers to keep things spicy. But definitely no cats, because she’s allergic to them.

You can stalk Marika here:

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electricgrasshopper · 7 years

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Raven Dane is an award-winning author of steampunk, dark fantasy, alternative history and horror fiction. Her first novels were in the critically acclaimed Legacy of the Dark Kind series; Blood Tears, Blood Lament, Blood Alliance. These are dark fantasy/alternative history/SF novels about a non human race of vampires who most definitely do not sparkle!

In 2009, Endaxi Press launched The Unwise Woman of Fuggis Mire, Raven’s scurrilous and most definitely adult spoof of all things High Fantasy. A fairy tale for grown ups with a sense of humour.

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/287640.Raven_Dane

Described as The Gothmother, Raven Dane is all things Gothic. With a ‘taste’ for vampire’s and ghosts, poison and dark fantasy, she has entertained readers of all ages with creations from her inky quill (I’m absolutely convinced she uses a real quill and ink!). She also enjoys dressing up in Victorian Gothic clothing for Steampunk conventions, and has a wicked sense of humour.

Hi Raven, Welcome, and thanks for agreeing to be interviewed for my blog; Flailing Through Life…

And talking about flailing; do you ever find yourself ‘flailing through life’?

Flailing? Sounds very energetic …lol! I used to find myself frantically plate-spinning, trying to balance work, bringing up my son, looking after my mares and writing. These days, I sort of crawl between time spent writing and the necessities of real life and my ever welcome duvet. Wish I had the energy for flailing now!

Raven, you’re well-known for writing supernatural stories. There is the Cyrus Darian series and Legacy of the Dark Kind series, plus many more. What draws you to this genre and what kind of horror do you prefer to read (or watch) yourself?

I have always loved SF and dark fantasy. I was a precocious early reader as a child and devoured books at a fast rate. I used to sit on the floor by my parent’s book case and read works by Edgar Allen Poe, Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde, especially the Canterville Ghost. That story terrified me; it wasn’t until I re-read it as an adult that I realised what a poignant, sweet story it really was. In those early days I was definitely drawn to the dark side. My brother and I used to sneak downstairs late at night and peak through a gap in the living room door and frighten ourselves with Quatermas, SF and old horror films. Later when we were older and could watch what we wanted, we loved the old black and white Twilight Zone and Outer Limits as well as Hammer horror and old SF films like The Trollenberg Terror. And of course, Doctor Who which I have watched since the very first episode, usually from behind a cushion. Today my love affair with horror and dark fantasy has not dimmed. I am not a fan of gory fiction (unless it is something by Sam Stone, who adds style and great characters to the genre). The same goes for torture porn like the Saw films and the growing in popularity extreme horror books, they are not for me. I do enjoy creepy ghost stories; I am a huge fan of Susan Hill and M R James novels and their film adaptations. Ghost stories in a Victorian setting are a favourite for me to write. Other favourites include dark fantasy like Guillermo Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth, his two Hellboy films and Clive Barker’s Nightbreed.

As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal? And why?

That’s a tough one. I have a special affinity with horses and love cats, wolves and ravens. I would have to choose a dragon though, for its magical nature, grandeur, its ability to soar to distant, exotic realms and to incinerate anything and anyone who gets in its way.

Editors beware!

What was the best money you ever spent as a writer? What did you do with your first advance?

Did you splash out on something exotic with your first pay cheque?

Not my first pay cheque or advance. My other half has supported my writing all our married life and allowed me to work as full time writer for many years. It has been a struggle and we have gone without the material things that many people have thought essential in life, like holidays, big, new TVs and modern cars. So anything I have earned has gone straight into the household running costs. I did however, treat myself to a huge golden velvet dragon made by a lovely lady in the US. Total extravagance though!

Oh, and after a successful morning’s book sales at an Asylum weekend, I treated myself to a gorgeous black pirate ship hat, very steamgoth, very me. I have had so much fun and use out of that hat, it was worth every penny.

What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

I was blessed to be taught English literature by a lovely lady called Miss Curry. She was not far off retirement when she had the tough job getting our lively class through the GCE’s for O and A levels but she introduced us to wonderful things. The powerful emotional impact of the War Poets like Rupert Brook and Siegfried Sassoon, the ravishing beauty of the English language from poetry by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I think the most powerful moment for me personally was the first book that made me cry, to really weep as if for a person I actually knew…and that was The Ship Who Sang by Anne MacCaffrey. If the fate of fictional characters can move me to mourn, than what better proof of the power of language?

What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?

Research is vitally important to me, whatever I am writing. I tend to research as I write as I never plan a book in advance. Some writers are planners, others fly by the seat of their pants and get straight to work with no idea of where the story will go. I am a definite pantser. Research can take me more time than writing sometimes but I think it is essential. I spent all afternoon recently researching a historical find that I mentioned in just one line of a book. Even in the most fantastical setting, research can give a depth and believability to a story , anything less is cheating the reader with shallow, implausible storytelling.

Cyrus Darian is a rather unusual name, how do you select the names of your characters?

Some come to me instantly as if been channelled from another dimension. Others can be a nightmare and get changed many times throughout the writing process. Thank goodness for my friend, the search and replace thingie on Microsoft Word. Cyrus Darian was a bit of a blend between the two. I decided he was Persian, so being named after a great Persian king of antiquity suited his vanity. Darian came into my head as a nice sounding name. I used my other friend, Google to see if it meant anything and discovered it was a town in Iran. Perfect. Mind you, it might not be his real name, Cyrus lies all the time and uses many aliases.

To date, what has been your hardest scene to write?

The hardest was also the easiest…if that makes any sense. The end of a story arc for one of my favourite characters was always going to end badly for him. He had become more than someone fictional but a very real presence in my life, so knowing how it had to end was deeply emotional for me. But the scene wrote itself, confirming it was the right plot thread for the culmination of a trilogy. Not saying any more…Spoilers!

If you were not a writer, and you could be anything else in the world, what career/vocation would you choose?

I love any form of creativity so always drawn to arts and crafts but I have no talent and anything I do is just for the pleasure of making things. I was always a good actor as a teenager, I was the annoying little madam who always got the main female role in all the school drama productions which were almost always Shakespeare. I was the only child for years that was encouraged by the teachers to go into acting much to the ongoing annoyance of my younger sister who was at the same school and did become an actress. Her teachers suggested a career as a secretary for her. A mixture of a sense of family duty and the need to earn regular money took me on another path, journalism and later fiction writing. I take part in amateur dramatics now and thoroughly enjoy being on stage…I love to make people laugh… or boo, when playing the baddie in Panto.

Or be one of those smiling ladies in sparkly clothes riding a dancing pure white Spanish stallion in a circus….

Have you ever had what one might call, a supernatural experience or event occur in your life? If so, would you care to share it with us? If not, which figure from history would you like to receive a visit from?

So many! I am very attuned to the presence of earth bound spirits since a child. I wish I wasn’t to be honest. It is not something I can switch off and has led to many uncomfortable times in the past. My present home is totally spirit free which is so relaxing! The worse one was an encounter with an angry, aggressive spirit in an old farmhouse where I worked. Young students at the riding school lived there and though we never told them about it to avoid hysteria, he was always targeting the youngest females, trying to frighten them. One day, when the house was empty for a couple of hours, I went in and ended up being pushed down the stairs. I could feel the imprint of strong fingers digging into my shoulders. In 1995, there was a big fire there, no one was hurt but the oldest part of the house was burnt down. All the spirit activity stopped and never returned.

11 And finally, what is your favourite childhood book?

Oooh….a tough one, I have so many. The first one that sprang to mind was the fantasy novel, Elidor by Alan Garner. I loved it and he is an early influence on my writing.

Thank you so much for agreeing to be interviewed Raven.

Raven’s most recent work is included in, Trumpocalypse; an anthology of satirical horror from authors on both sides of ‘the pond’.

You can find Raven at http://ravendane.blogspot.co.uk/ and her books to order from all good bookshops, on Amazon or direct from Telos Publishing. At the moment her books published by Endaxi Press are only available as eBooks.

The Raven Dane Interview Raven Dane is an award-winning author of steampunk, dark fantasy, alternative history and horror fiction. Her first novels were in the critically acclaimed Legacy of the Dark Kind series;

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