#persuasion and jane austen i am so sorry they did this to you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suhnshinehaos · 2 years

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“ on love, friendship, and jane austen ”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SYNOPSIS. yn and hansol. hansol and yn. the inseparable duo. one name cannot come without immediately being followed by the other. a friendship that has stood the test of time. yn falls in love more times than they could count. hansol has stood by their side through every single one of those times. yn loves quoting jane austen. and hansol? well, hansol loves yn.

PAIRING. vernon x gn!reader

GENRES. university au, fluff, angst, childhood friends to ???, pining, yearning, so much pining- i am so sorry.

CONTAINS. swearing, food + alcohol mentions, and a bunch of out of context austen quotes.

MENTIONS OF / FEATURING. mingyu, minghao, chan, seungkwan, soonyoung, and jihoon.

WC. 4.3k

A/N. yes, i saw netflix’s persuasion. yes, it made the austen lover in me cry (in the worst way). yes, i wrote this to cope.

i. persuasion

“I am half agony, half hope,” you groan, plopping yourself down on the bean bag next to Hansol’s. There’s a pout etched onto your face, soon covered by one of the pillows that adorned the his bed.

Hansol paid no attention to your muffled screams, eyes still trained on the flat screen TV in front of him. His fingers moved frantically on the controller in his hands, blocking out your sounds of agony with the upbeat 8-bit melody of whatever fighting game he chose to procrastinate from packing for university.

Which of course, pissed you off.

Throwing the pillow towards him, you drawl out his name in the hope of getting his attention, “Hansoooool, yoohoo! Am I talking to the air over here?”

The pillow gently hits the side of his face, “Alright, alright. Message received, just let me finish this round.”

You leaned back, picking at the loose thread that hung on your shirt. A quiet hum escapes your lips, slightly overpowered by the sounds of grunts, the backing music, the punches and kicks, and eventually the victorious announcement that he had won that round. Hansol lowers the volume and turns his attention to you,

“Okay- why are you half angry, half soap?”

There’s a teasing tone that enveloped his words, one that let you know that he had heard you perfectly the first time around. Even as you rolled your eyes and hit his shoulder in annoyance, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards into a small smile as he waited for your response.

“First of all, it’s half agony, half hope. You know this,” you stressed, rubbing your fingers on your temple in an attempt to ease the headache that creeped into your system. He knows of your love of the novelist, and you’ve made him watch the 1995 movie adaptation of Persuasion more times than either of you could count. Not to mention, it’s one of her most popular quotes. It’s practically impossible for him to misquote or mishear, confirmed by the low chuckle that left his lips.

His hands go up in mock defense, “Hey, for all I know you could have turned into a soap-human hybrid and you’re angry about it.”

“God, what goes on inside your head?”

There’s a sense of genuine bewilderment in your question, most of the time you really don’t know what’s going on inside his head, or how he strings together the words that moved past his lips.

But if you really must know, in that moment he was thinking of how cute you looked in one of his hoodies. The one he left behind when he had come over. He didn’t intend on leaving behind, but he’s glad that he did. You wore it like it was yours, and instead of telling you that he liked how it looked on you, he chose to shrug his shoulders.

You shook your head, aware that the conversation would lead nowhere if you chose to press further, “Did you know Mingyu came back for the summer?”

“Really?” Hansol raised his brows.

Your best friend was many things, but he was not an actor. Nor a very good liar. You saw it in the exaggerated tone of surprise and shocked expression.

“You knew. Didn’t you?” You huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Hansol drops the facade almost immediately, “I figured you’d find out soon enough.”

“He came over today, said we should catch up and hang out and stuff.” You sighed, shoulders slumping forward at the memory of Mingyu on your front porch, arms wide open and expectant smile on his face.

He catches the change in your demeanor, the uncertainty that coated your words, “I’ve seen this film before, Yn. I know how this ends.”

Hansol took your silence as an invitation to continue, “He did that last year before he went off to university. Mingyu never defined your relationship, but treated you like you were his significant other. But as soon as autumn came, he stopped contacting you. What makes you think that won’t happen again?”

“What if this time’s different?” You knew you could always count on him to keep you grounded, but you couldn’t help but the several years of love and adoration win for long enough to ask that question.

“Half hope,” Hansol mumbled, more to himself than to you.

“Sol, can’t I have this summer?”

He sighs at the nickname, “You do you, Yn. Just take care of your heart.”

“You already do that for me.” You playfully nudge his side with your own, perking up at his approval.

But you don’t listen to me, his mind screams in rebuttal, though he doesn’t voice it out. Instead he nudges you back, “Just keep in mind that we’re also leaving for university in the fall. Miles away from him.”

“I know. Thanks, Sol.”

“Anytime, Yn.”

Hansol was right. You’d eventually come to find that he usually was.

ii. northanger abbey

“Be careful, it’s hot.” Hansol places the pot of instant ramen in the middle of the wooden table. The digital clock on the wall lets him know it was half past ten pm, and he had a class at seven in the morning. But who was he to refuse you?

Not when you showed up at his dorm in tears, on a night where he knew you’d be going out on a date. No, he simply let you in without another word. He leads you to your seat on the dining room table, and he starts boiling some water, and he grabs the bowl you liked to use whenever you came over, and he reaches towards a certain corner of his kitchen cabinet, the one where he kept your favorite brand of ramen.

He watched as your hands shook, attempting to place some of the noodles on your bowl. Unfortunately, they could only seem to slip out of the metal material of your chopsticks. Hansol sighed, taking your bowl and filling it to brim with warm soup and noodles.

“You wanna talk about it or do you want to sit and eat in silence?”

“Sit and eat in silence seems good for now.”

And he nods, obliging by grabbing a serving for himself. You always appreciated that about him. The way he understood. The way he never pressed further unless it was needed. For the next fifteen minutes, the walls of his dorm room heard nothing but the sound of comfortable silence. Interrupted by the occasional quiet slurp or heavy sigh. Broken by the utterance of a single name.

“Minghao.”

“What about him?”

“He called whatever we have off.”

Your bowl is empty, and all your attention was now on him as he processed the information you had just laid out. Hansol nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing, and you could practically see the gears in his head turning as he thought of something comforting to say. His lips part, but you cut him off before he could let out a single syllable.

“Can’t really be shocked. He said he was too busy for anything serious, I was the one who pushed for the dates. I thought it wouldn’t do me any harm, but I had already fallen by the third date. Minghao knew that and decided to break it off.”

“You fall in love way too easily.”

Hansol said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And in a way, it was. You never thought you’d get over Mingyu, but as soon as Minghao walked into your arts appreciation elective, you knew you were done for. And Hansol, who begrudgingly took that class with you, knew it too.

“Tell me I’m an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Hansol finishes the last of his ramen, the words escaping his lips as nonchalantly as ever. You couldn’t help but feel a slight pang in your chest at his lack of hesitation. A frown made its way onto your features, and you made very little attempt to hide it.

You scoffed, “Well, you didn’t have to actually ag-”

“But it’s alright.” He cuts you off before you could even finish, “Everyone’s an idiot when it comes to love.”

“Even you, Sol?” You challenged, leaning forward towards him.

“Even me.” He responds, but before you could interrogate him on what he could mean by that, he continues his train of thought, “You’re an idiot and you fall in love way too quickly and you give the entirety of yourself to the people you love even though you haven’t known them long. That’s why you get hurt.”

“I have no notion of loving people by halves.”

Hansol raised a brow, “Damn, that’s deep.”

A quick silence fell between the two of you as you tried to process his statement.

“Dude,” An offended scoff escaped your lips, “Northanger Abbey!”

He laughed at the exasperation in your voice, the way it raised ocataves higher at his inability to recognize the line that you had just quoted. Your pout only grew deeper with each chuckle that escaped his lips, and he’s unable to help himself from employing a teasing tone of voice,

“Well, how the fuck am I supposed to know that? I don’t read Austen.”

You could only roll your eyes in response, “But I’ve made you watch enough adaptations, you should recognize these by now!”

Though you tried to act annoyed, there’s a smile that threatened to form on your lips. But he knows that it wouldn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You’re right, wanna watch one now? Refresh my memory.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You could have gone home after that date. Could have cried yourself to sleep. But you’re glad you made the cab driver do a last minute left turn towards Hansol’s dorm instead of straight to your apartment. Because instead of the sobs that could have escaped your lips, what left is every single line of the 2007 adaptation of Northanger Abbey. With Hansol watching you out of the corner of his eye, unable to fully place his attention on the movie that played.

iii. sense and sensibility

“Well, don’t you look all fancy.” You teased as soon as the call connects and his features take up almost the entirety of your screen. Hansol’s dressed much nicer than he usually was : crisp button down, expensive looking jacket, and hair neatly styled. It’s a look you’re not quite used to seeing, but you weren’t going to go around complaining either.

“Good morning, Yn.” Hansol greeted, ignoring your compliment entirely with a roll of your eyes.

“Good evening, Hansol.” You replied, taking one last sweeping look at his appearance, “Getting ready for your date?”

He scratched the back of his head, eyes darting to various areas in his room instead of his laptop, “I, uh- I actually just got back.”

“What?!”

You almost choked on your orange juice, eyes growing wide at his revelation. You blinked back at him, unable to comprehend his statement. What the hell does that mean? Doing the math in your head and noting the 13 hour time difference, it would only be 8 pm where he was. If anything, he should just be preparing to leave.

“Why do you sound so shocked?” Hansol chuckled, “Also, you know there are other ways to make the most of my semester abroad than trying to find love, right?”

“It’s just,” you pouted, unable to stop yourself from feeling bad for your best friend. In the years you’ve known Hansol, he’s never mentioned anything about anyone he was interested in. He was always out helping you, and taking care of you. When he mentioned a classmate of his asked him out, you couldn’t help but feel excited for him. He deserved love just as much as you did, maybe even more so.

No, not maybe. He does. Which is why you tried your hardest to ignore the slight sting that came when he mentioned going out on a date.

“Just what?”

His question brought you back. Back to his awaiting gaze and curious tone. You swallowed up the selfishness, the tiny leap of giddiness at the thought of his date not working out the way he thought it would, and gave him a sad smile instead.

“I just wish it worked out for you, Sol.”

“I wish it did too.”

The words escaped his lips in a quiet sigh. The weight on his chest is heavy, only growing heavier with each second you spent looking at him with nothing but sympathy in your gaze. A slight feeling of guilt creeps into his system, he always knew his feeble attempt to move on would end up in failure. His heart didn’t belong here, it belonged with you.

“Well, you know what people say, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.”

“Is the people in question Jane Austen?”

You don’t even try to hide the shock that graced your face, mouth parting and eyes alight with excitement, “You-”

“You’re always quoting Austen.” Hansol shook his head, but there’s a twitch in the corner of his mouth. As if what he said were only a half truth.

Your features drop for just a moment, “Well, she’s right! And where there’s expectations, there’s also disappointment.”

“Is that also Austen?”

“Nope! That one’s a Yn original.”

Before he could respond, Hansol hears an alarm go off. He watched as you hurriedly finish the rest of your breakfast, an unending list of swear words leaving your lips in quick succession.

“Ah! I have to go, Sol! Got a class in a few minutes- I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, oka-”

He doesn’t even get the chance to say a proper goodbye, the call disconnecting before he could even utter your name. Hansol sighed, the air in his apartment grows much too stuffy for his liking, so he finds himself opening up a window.

The cool night air envelops him, the moon welcomes his worries as he mulls over the familiar quote : to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect. Austen was right. Hansol always wished for more. He wished you’d notice how he felt. He wished that you’d feel the same way. He couldn’t help himself from throwing a penny in each wishing well he passed by, or closing his eyes when the clock struck 11:11.

Hansol always expected more. You’ve known each other for years for crying out loud. Isn’t there a point where both of you would finally end up together?

But you were right too.

Expectations also brought disappointment. That night, when you only showed sympathy — and perhaps even, pity — at his date not going well, instead of hopefulness or excitement, Hansol felt nothing but disappointment.

iv. pride and prejudice

Even in the sea of people that flooded the airport, you recognized him almost immediately. You sprint to him, with a grin so wide that your cheeks hurt. You missed him.

And he knew it too. Especially in the way you practically tackled him in a hug, the impact of your arms engulfing him causing him to take a few steps backwards. His hands let go of the suitcases they held, melting into your touch.

“You’re not allowed to leave me ever again.”

“Too bad, I was actually just about to catch another flight.”

You hit his chest with the palms of your hand, “Shut up.”

The car ride back to campus was filled with small talk, unusual for the two of you, but it seemed customary to ask about how his flight was, and if he was seated in front of some annoying kid who wouldn’t stop kicking the back of his seat. Which, funnily enough, he was.

“It was so annoying, I was genuinely ready battle the kid in fucking Minecraft or something just to get him to stop.”

You shook your head as he ended his little rant with an annoyed sigh, “Could you even battle people in minecraft? All I do is make little houses.”

“Is that what you were up to while I was gone?” Hansol asked, tracing invisible shaped on the passenger seat window.

You’re unable to help the smile that played on your lips at the sight of him. It reminded of you of your younger years, the ride home from elementary school, taking turns drawing on the bus windows for the other to guess. You let your gaze linger for a couple of seconds before turning them back on the road ahead, “Mhmm. I’ll show you around when you get settled back in.”

“Cool.” He gives you a toothy grin before pointing at the window, “Wanna guess what I drew?”

“That’s not fair! I wasn’t paying attention!” You huffed, “We are not pla-”

You’re interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, both you and Hansol sneaking a glance at the caller id : Chan. Hansol raises a brow at you, before his features turn into one of confusion when you decline the call. You knew exactly what he was about to ask.

“I’m tutoring him.”

“So why’d you decline the call? What if he wants to ask you something?”

“Because he’s been dropping hints that he likes me and I think he’s going to ask me out on a date.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t like him. I like someone else.”

“Oh shoot, really? Have you made a move on the person that you do like?”

“No, because every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason.”

The exchange happens quicker than either of you could process, not a single shred of hesitation in his questions and your replies. But this is the response that makes Hansol turn to you in surprise. With his head tilted to the side, and his mouth slightly parted, “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend? Were you possessed by the spirit of Mary Bennett?”

“This one’s different, okay? I can’t be as careless as I used to be.”

Hansol nodded in understanding, not pressing further. You would tell him when you were ready. You always did when you had your sights set on someone. But just how different could this one be? How did he capture so much of your attention that you didn’t even notice his mention of an Austen character?

He doesn’t want to dwell on it further, for fear that he’d only break his own heart in the process. Instead he asks,

“That cafe by your apartment building? Still open?”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t ask, too afraid to give a truthful answer. You offer him a warm smile, “Mhmm. Called ahead and made sure they saved you your favorite. We can stop by before I drop you off.”

Just like that, the subject is dropped.

“I have a new playlist I want you to listen to, I call it ‘songs to listen to in the car on the drive back from the airport with yn’.”

You laugh before handing him the aux cord. Music and comfort and familiarity fill the air as you fall back into old habits. Him, tracing little drawing on the window, humming along to the songs he’s chosen, occasionally stealing glances for your reaction to them. You, hands firmly on the wheel, taking mental notes of the songs you liked, trying to guess just what he was drawing. In his semester abroad, you feared that scenes like this would fade away in your memory.

But now he was finally home. And in a way, you felt like you were too.

v. emma

Seungkwan insisted on having a small get together in honor of Hansol’s return, which really made it seem like he was gone for years instead of just a few months. Nevertheless, you and Hansol agreed at the mention of it being held at Seungkwan’s place. Neither of you were really in the mood to clean anything up should it be held at yours or his.

The five of you are seated in a circle on the floor, various bags of chips, cans of beer, and bottles of soju placed in the middle. Jihoon narrows his eyes at you, gaze trained on the glass of water you held in your hand.

“I have a class tomorrow morning.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking a sip from the glass just to tease everyone a tiny bit, “Mmmm- refreshing.”

“This is refreshing too, you know?” Soonyoung, seemingly the drunkest one there, asks as he swings around the half-emptied bottle of soju that he held in his hand. His words slur the tiniest bit, but not enough that you wouldn’t understand what he was saying, “Anyways, Vernon- meet anyone special over there in America?”

Soonyoung winked, or at least attempted to, a dopey smile plastered on his features before leaning towards Hansol.

“Nah, not really.”

Soonyoung nods, “I get it. You can’t move from Yn. I get it, I get it. You love ‘em too much, I get it.”

And it’s like the world stops spinning.

The tension is thick, Soonyoung’s voice is loud enough that it cut through whatever girl group song Seungkwan was playing through his bluetooth speakers which, as luck would have it, ran out of battery a few seconds after Soonyoung’s revelation.

It’s silent. Way too silent. Everyone’s gaze flickers back and forth between you and Hansol, but both of you could only look down at your drinks.

He could have chalked it up to Soonyoung being drunk and spouting absolute nonsense. But Hansol found himself completely and utterly frozen, like the air had just gotten knocked out of his lungs. He knew there was truth to Soonyoung’s statement, and while he never explicitly told any of his friends about the true extent of his feelings for you, they all knew regardless.

The silence is briefly broken by the sound of a fake cough from Jihoon, his mouth parts to say something. Possibly an attempt to relive the awkward, and frankly unbearable, tension that had fallen on the group, but not a single word manages to come out as his lips press into a thin line.

You managed to find your voice, looking to Seungkwan and avoiding Hansol’s gaze entirely, “I think I’m going to need some air.”

“Yeah, me too actually.”

Seungkwan frantically nods, leading the two of you to a glass door that that led to a small balcony. He draws the curtain to give the two of you some privacy.

Jihoon hits the back of Soonyoung’s head as soon as Seungkwan returned to their small circle.

“Cut the act. I know you’re not as drunk as you say you are.”

“What the hell was that?” Seungkwan whispered, but anyone could tell there was anger in his words.

Soonyoung rubs the spot that Jihoon had hit, “Listen. They’re going to end up thanking me for this. I can feel it. We’ve always known that Vernon liked Yn, and I have a feeling that Yn has finally realized that their love for our Nonie goes beyond friendship.”

“You’re doing this based on a hunch?” Jihoon asked, clearly exasperated and taking another swig of beer.

“If one of them comes out crying, you’re doing the comforting.” Seungkwan mumbled, hoping that everything works out for the best.

“Is it true?”

You and Hansol lean on the balcony railing, your arms barely brushing against the other’s as both of you looked out into the clear night sky. A cool breeze blows between the two of you, sending chills up your spine, somehow exacerbating the tension that lingered between the two of you.

“It is.”

There was no point in denying it anymore. Well, at least, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life playing pretend. Hansol was tired of doing so. Nobody ever told him how exhausting suppressing everything would be. He loves you. It’s an undeniable fact, any attempt at playing it off as untrue would only come off as pathetic.

“What? Sol, I-” Your mouth becomes dry, but your eyes threaten to well up, “I never thought… you never said anything, I couldn’t have known, I-”

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

Hansol cuts you off with familiar words; in fact, too familiar. When it all sunk in, when everything clicked, you swore you could hear the sound of your own heartbeat. It’s ringing in your ears, practically deafening. You turned to face him so quickly, you feared your neck would snap. There’s a small, serene smile on his face. Unmistakable. It’s a smile that held just the tiniest bits of pride.

“How did you?”

“I took a class on Austen when I was away. Missed you that much.” He finally turned to face you, shrugging it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was. It definitely was to you.

Hansol has always been filled with love for you. He loved you ever since he knew what the concept of romantic love was.

You were different.

Your love trickled; drip by drip, bit by bit. It happened with every bowl of instant ramen he made you, each time he begrudgingly watched an Austen adaptation, with every new playlist he shared, each heartfelt advice, with every random facetime call when he was away because he saw something that reminded him of you. You never noticed until you found yourself outside his dorm room, ready to tell him about your day, disappointed when you realized that he was oceans away from you.

And tonight was the drop that spilled everything over.

Perhaps you could have found another Austen quote in response. Or maybe you could have just said those three little words instead. But you did neither.

You had always been bolder, so you simply pressed your lips onto his. Because you loved him. And he pulled you closer and kissed you back. Because he loved you too.

Most ardently.

from reese, with love <3 been a while since i wrote for svt on this blog and been a while since i wrote a proper one shot, so forgive me for being a lil rusty >_< either way, i hope you enjoyed reading this ! id genuinely love to know what you think ! hope you are all doing well and taking care of yourselves :))

yes, ik most ardently is a p&p movie reference but shhhh

#seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon oneshot #vernon fic

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bird-slayer-brainrot · 3 months

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Soldier On, Come Down - Chpt. 4. - - Ineffable Husbands WW2 au human!Crowley angel!Aziraphale angst multi-chapter

When Anathema had accepted Newt’s invitation to a walk that afternoon, she hadn’t expected him to propose.

He was acting unusually coy about the day. Newt had been a surprising but welcome addition to the study group Anathema had informally joined in her first week at Oxford. At first, they had barely spoken to each other, not by Anathema’s own inhibition. Newt had been shy, and slow to open up to the others. But he was quite nice, and clever, and Anathema had found she quite liked speaking to him, even more so than the others.

The others seemed to pick up on the gradual shift in Newt’s demeanour, and had started to tease Anathema about her involvement in it. Agatha, particularly, had a habit of trying to fluster Newt with this when they walked between lectures.

But it was all harmless nonsense. Anathema had extended an invitation to Newt to a party two months after they had met that they were all attending. Anathema and Newt had both been dateless, and thus made a natural pair. Newt had accepted begrudgingly, insisting he hated dances, but Anathema, desperate to not be forced to suffer the occasion alone, had bribed him with the study notes she had on a class he knew he was having trouble in. They had danced leaving the party to get air, and Newt had thrown up on her shoes.

So they had become friends. Anathema considered him a close friend, and he did her. Now, Newt was on his knee and Anathema was staring at him. He was watching Anathema, but not impatiently. Anathema blinked down at Newt. They were still looking at each other.

Ana,

Thank you for your letter. It truly meant a lot to me to hear from you.

I am writing this in a rush as I am packed to leave for Brighton for the next two weeks. I do not expect a response, and will understand if you do not wish to speak to me.

I care for you a lot, Anathema. I hope that you are well.

Yours,

Newton Pulsifer

Breaking the news to Crowley would be the hard part, so Anathema hadn’t told him. She had wanted to, he was the closest thing she had to a father.

Newt had written, and Anathema had sent a short response in return.

“Crowley said he’d be here?” Anathema looked behind Aziraphale but the bookshop appeared empty.

“He did?” Aziraphale said in a tone that implied he hadn’t known about this plan.

It was a lucky break though. If Anathema could talk to Aziraphale first and get his advice, she’d work up the courage to talk to Crowley. Aziraphale shook his head, and held the door open for her.

“I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there. Why did I just stand there?”

Aziraphale poured another cup of coffee for Anathema. He had been in the middle of rereading Persuasion because of something Crowley had said offhandedly about Jane Austen, but seeing Anathema was always a treat.

“My dear, don’t be so harsh on yourself.” Aziraphale shook his head. She had seemed to calm down once she had had some tea and some sandwiches. She had then told Aziraphale what had happened.

“But it’s Newt. He was just there and I panicked.”

Aziraphale hummed wistfully, and took another sip of his now tepid earl grey. Aziraphale had tried to give all his attention to the bereaved Anathema, but his thoughts had wondered to the circumstances of her arrival. Crowley had told her he would be with Aziraphale that afternoon but he had not. It hung heavy like a stone in his stomach.

“Newt will understand. I’m sure he will.”

“Even so.” Anathema sighed. “To stand there..”

They were interrupted by a knocking at the door to the bookshop. Aziraphale glanced over to Anathema, who seemed to crumble in to herself on the old vintage armchair. The noise of the door opening and the Soho traffic signalled Crowley’s arrival.

Newt,

I am sorry. Give me a chance and I will explain everything. I promise.

Ana

Short chapter this week but let me cook I'm doing it

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sleepy-vix · 17 days

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salve!!

this is so random but i read your post about wanting more reading moots, and checked out your blog. and we like a lot of the same things!!

i love annotating books (someone else who uses pencil!! and brackets!! and writes in the margins like there’s no tomorrow!! although my annotations are mostly geared towards analysis sjdjdjf) and the secret history. and dead poets society. and the picture of dorian gray (oscar wilde. my idol). and pride and prejudice (i actually preferred emma by a mile though. aaaaa emma. aaaaaa jane austen). and i’m reading crime and punishment.

andddd i’ve also read caraval (i hate that book but also kinda like it it’s complicated). and six of crows (i had a Phase about it and sskdkd. hated shadow and bone though) and the cruel prince (i have a love hate relationship with that too) and a whole lot more

we are also both asian. hehehe

not really active on this account but i couldn’t help but squeal when i saw your blog!! we are strangely similar. i hope this is not strange and off-putting (if it is i am SO SORRY i do not know internet etiquette)

internet etiquette is not real we are all best friends in this niche island called tumblr

TYSM FOR THE ASK!! IM SO HAPPY U REACHED OUT AGSVDJS

you're so right. we're SO similar its awesome. even the feelings we have on books??? i love that u read classics but also read the newer "booktok" books :} like me :D

oooh ive been meaning to read emma. so far pride and prejudice is the only jane austen i've read but i'm going to read emma, sense and sensibility and persuasion when i have time ! also for my literature class, i'm required to read it next term (i think we have to write a story based on it but im not exactly sure)

what did you like about emma? one of my friends said that she hated emma because emma is spoiled ?? but i think she completely missed the point and also i dont trust her book opinions because her favourite book is fourth wing 💀💀

and wdym youre not active on this acc? aww :( do u have another acc that you're super active on perchance?

#moots ✮

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buddyhollyscurls · 2 years

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HI MARIA! 😄💗 Assuming the "weird questions for writers" thing is an ask game, from that I'd love to ask you (sorry there are so many, HEH): 7, 22, 25, 30, 32?

AW THANK YOU LILY UR THE BEST <333333

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Honestly... I can't pick just one thing. I thoroughly find joy in every aspect of writing. The worst part of having gone through a deep depression in my late teens - early 20s was that I couldn't write. I missed it so much it was one of the things (like not reading) that made me feel I wasn't whole. like something was missing. I find joy in thinking of ideas, coming up with characters, researching things for accuracy, of seeing a story unfold. Of just writing a line that I'm like oooh I like this. The entire aspect of writing brings me joy and helps me be peaceful

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

I'm not organized at all. The thing with me is I have so many wips that I pause and come back to hahaha. I have notebooks, notes, Google Docs, and things like that for all kinds of different stories I can't even keep track but I am doing my best to outline first and jot down plots

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

I absolutely adore questions like this. I'll answer this with my brand newest story that was inspired by Pride and Prejudice and all Jane Austen novels. I haven't even started writing it yet and I'm still figuring out the plot but I'll give u a very specific detail about the Main Couple:

Maya Damas - so in the story its gonna be stated that even tho she loves Jane Austen she doesn't read much classic lit or much other romance... except for Federico (male lead) . That's why his novels intrigue her bc her genre of choice is Horror and Mystery. That does have a small semi-relevance to the story but what doesn't is that despite the fact that she loves horror and mystery NOVELS she doesn't like horror MOVIES. She prefers light-hearted movies and can't stand gore.

Federico Ballester - Cat lover.

Something about them TOGETHER - they both love Joni Mitchell and black sabbath

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

ooohhh tbh i have a lot of trouble sleeping haha I'm a night owl and its rare now that I even dream much less remember it but when I first started writing I used to use my dreams a lot to come up with stories

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

this one is so good! tons of lines that I come to from novels "You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being please", (pride and prejudice) "If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad", (northanger abbey) "you sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others" (persuasion) these are all from jane austen (I'm really sorry this just became a ja love letter) she was just brilliant at writing love and such a great story teller overall

#thank you thank you #sorry this is suuuuuuuper long tho #answered #asks #musicrunningthroughmysoul

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basmathgirl · 16 hours

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Hey ya!! How do you do? Have you been enjoying the new season so far of DW?

Also!! Completely unrelated (sorry for all the messy thoughts all over the place, audhd is kicking my bum rn) but have you by any chance watched Bridgerton?? People on twitter are calling Polin (Penelope and Colin) the equivalent of Tendonna, and i was wondering if ot ever crossed your mind writing something regency-ish era with 10 (or 14) and Donna? I know for sure i would love to see a bridgerton au about them haha

Have a great week!!

Hello kind Anon

I'm enjoying the new series/season quite a lot, thanks. I hope you are doing so too.

Sorry your ADHD brain is running you around in circles. I'm used to coping with pensioner speech and the butterfly flitting of topics of conversation; so I don't mind in the slightest if you go on to something unrelated.

I've watched S1 and S2 of Bridgerton but won't be able to watch S3 until I can convince hubby to regain Netflix (we were an addition on my son's account but he cancelled it when they wouldn't let him access it). But I have read the Bridgerton books by Julia Quinn (might not have spelt her name right so will have to come back and correct it later). Now, in the book, there is definitely no TenDonna vibe between Penelope and Colin whatsoever. Perish the thought. In the book he and other suitors only bother to look in Penelope's direction because she has magically lost weight - we are told she lost all that podginess but given no idea how or why it happened - which felt like a complete cop out to me. I was hoping Penelope would be loved for who she is but instead we got the usual "only slim girls can be loved" crap you get in romantic novels.

For that reason alone I'm keen to see how the TV series handles it.... pun unintended.

Now, I have intended to write a Regency-ish 10 or 14 and Donna story. Have posted one that sort of fits the bill, and am part way through writing another. Both are Jane Austen AUs, btw. As for doing a Bridgerton AU, I'm not sure I could manage to find that many lemons for them to constantly drink lemon juice (where the f*ck did that expensive habit come from in London Society? Getting orange juice was quite a treat) or be able to force myself to call the upper classes "the Ton". For some reason that really grated on my nerves when reading the books. And I've even seen other American authors use the term recently in other historical romances.

Now I've read absolutely loads of romance books over the past *mumble mumble* decades, including ones set in Regency London, and had never come across the ever-flowing lemon juice favoured by the Ton until I encountered Bridgerton. Hmm. Almost makes me suspect they took a slice of America and dumped it in fictional London.

Yes, I'm being sarcastic. Or flippant. I'll let you know later when the pain I'm currently in has buggered off.

Anyway, for all my griping, I'm not ruling such an AU out. Just let me get one of my versions of Persuasion done first and I can properly think about it. If you want to coerce/bribe me with images (manips or artwork) by all means throw them my way, as I find such things very inspirational. Honest I do.

I hope you have a great week too!

#kind Anon #Ten x Donna #Doctor x Donna #Bridgerton #AU #i spent one summer working my way through #Barbara Cartland #historical romances #(the same author Matt Lucas parody)#let's just say that #NO upper class girl was seduced before her wedding #a different kettle of fish altogether with #Catherine Cookson #(another popular author)

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autumnbasil · 2 years

Text

tagged by @louisianna (this took me so long to get to. sorry)

Favourite colour: My current colour im decorating everything in is dark green, all my pillows and accents and water bottle are now that colour as well as my planner. I’ve always loved a dark blue as well and like dressing in black and brown.

Currently Reading: Persuasion by Jane Austen. I’ve seen a few of the video essays describing how terrible the new film adaptation is so instead of watching it I bought the book and am now halfway through and can say its one of my favourites so far. The pining.

Last Song: Well last night I saw Shostakovich’s 5th symphony performed which was amazing, and I’m currently listening to Nina Simone’s You Can Have Him which I feel like ties in nicely with the book Im reading. I’ve also had on Square by Mitski on repeat the past few days

Last Series: The last series I completed was Safe which was a mystery mini serious which was pretty good if not a little predictable but it did keep me invested. I’ve started rewatching Arrested Development with my new roommate since they’ve never seen it. Last night I came home after the concert and rewatched all of season 2 of Fleabag because I saw a fox twice while talking to a someone and if that isnt coincidence I don’t know what is

Last Movie: I needed a comfort movie so I rewatched Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time and it hits every time.

Sweet/savoury/spicy: Savoury. I cook a lot of savoury dishes.

Currently working on: I starting back the academic term so most of my time is spent organizing and practicing. My record player is broken so thats my current project to fix and I’m sewing a new green cover for my marimba so it matches the living room. Im also trying to bake breakfast bars so the mornings are a bit easier. Im also working on a concept album.

tagging @thefuriousbee

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hippohead · 2 years

Text

wait ok sorry if this post comes off a little narcissistic but i was just reading through my jane austen-esque klaine fic that i started writing last year. i only really wrote a small little chunk of it, but i had written a bunch of notes for dialogue that i had in my head that i wanted to turn into scenes

and, listen, last year me really popped off with this one K: Will you be proposing, then, Mr. Anderson? B: Proposing? I... I would, Mr. Hummel, if I could... I don’t think... K: What is the matter with her that you can’t? B: Her? K: I heard you. I heard you tell Miss Berry that you have an attachment. To a Hummel. B: Then you heard correctly. K: And yet you will not marry her? B: I have no desire to marry Miss Hummel. K: So what of this attachment? B: Mr. Hummel, I came here to explain myself for the accusations that you placed upon me in London. Miss Wilde was a childhood friend who formed an attachment with no encouragement from me. The situation with Miss Fabray was entirely her mother’s doing – I was conducting myself to the standards of a gentleman, as I was taught, and Mrs. Fabray concluded that there was to be a union. I am full of regret that Miss Fabray was caused any pain, but I assure you, it was not my intention. K: And my sister? B: Your sister... your sister is delightful, Mr. Hummel. But she was never the Hummel that my affections belonged to.

....but she was never the hummel that my affections belonged to!????!?! BUT SHE WAS NEVER THE HUMMEL THAT MY AFFECTIONS BELONGED TO!!!

anyway it made me squeal, i haven’t read it since i jotted it down so it sort of felt like i was reading something that i hadn’t written, does that make sense? anyway felt compelled to share it here as i have a feeling a full fic of this will never see the light of day. sorry for squealing about something i wrote, that feels weird, but it really did hit me in a persuasion-letter type of way, so!

#like if there is some way i could finish this whole fic i think i would scream #something about the yearning i could create #anyway #sorry hahaha

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xiaq · 3 years

Link

“Should we go inside?”

“No,” Draco says, mostly just to be contrary but also because he lives for shouted declarations in the rain and this may be his only chance to experience one.

“Well, alright,” Harry says, hunching his shoulders, “But in the rain? honestly?

“I have an immune system again, I may as well revel in it.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you watch Pride and Prejudice.”

“Clearly you ought to watch it again,” Draco sniffs.

“Right,” Harry says. “Yeah. I probably should because I feel like if that’s the standard, I’m probably going to do this next bit wrong.”

“Next bit?” Draco asks

“Er,” Harry says. “So. I’m in love with you. And I feel like now is the time to tell you.”

Draco says nothing for several seconds.

“Now? No, Potter. Now is not the time. The time would have been weeks ago. The time would have been when I was in your bed and your clothes or—or after you saved my life instead of leaving me alone in the hospital and then disappearing without a word to me.”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “And I’ve just apologised for that.”

“Badly,” Draco mutters.

“Are you going to argue with me or are you actually going to respond to the fact that I just said I’m in love with you?” Harry asks. And there’s water dripping from his hair and sluicing down his throat and settling in the dip between his collarbones. “Because I am,” he continues. “In love with you. And I know I shouldn’t be, and I’ve tried not to be. But you’re you and you’re—well, you’re not perfect—”

Draco lets out an offended noise.

“But I don’t think I’d want you to be perfect. Because all the things that infuriate me about you are still—you. I suppose. I don’t know what I’m trying to say but just. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you. So. I’m just going to love you now, if that’s alright.”

Draco swallows.

Draco clears his throat.

“Yes, well. It’s come to my attention,” he says, aiming for lofty and falling far short. “That I may, possibly, love you as well.”

“It’s come to your attention,” Harry says.

“Yes.”

“You pompous bastard.”

“Potter. This is the most romantic moment of my life and up until this point you have done an admirable job of not fucking it up entirely. Do try not to ruin things, now.”

And Harry starts laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really did want to do this right. And I feel like I should have something eloquent to say but I’m just—”

He shrugs and it’s so, impossibly, dear, that Draco feels like his heart might burst.

“I dunno, I’m no good with words. Do you have something fancy to say or can we go inside now?”

“I am,” Draco says, “half agony, half hope. I have loved none but you.”

The smile slides right off Harry’s face. He doesn’t look angry. Maybe shocked. “What?”

There’s rain in his eyelashes; dripping from his nose; collecting in the seam between his lips.

Harry’s tongue comes out to touch the moisture and Draco forces his attention back up to Harry’s eyes.

“It’s Jane Austen,” Draco says, and he knows he’s flushing. “From Persuasion. It’s one of my favourite lines and—” he clears his throat. “It’s true, so.”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Harry says.

And he does.

#drarry #drarry fic #harry/draco #Draco/Harry #WDWG #myfic #just the epilogue left now!

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years

Text

pascal pt. 2

summary: spencer deals with a grueling case which reminds him of his son, and so he decides to finally come home

word count: 1,307 reading time aprox: 5 mins

masterlist

part 1

It has been a few days since Spencer had left, in which I had left him numerous voicemails about his whereabouts and mental status. Unfortunately I had received no intel about him, until Garcia had reassured me that he had been cooped up in Derek’s house.

It was around 2 pm in the afternoon and I had just put Pascal back in his cradle after feeding him. The sun beamed through the windows, emitting a gorgeous array of blinding rays into the living room where I sat. A book lay on my lap, specifically ‘Persuasion’ by Jane Austen, while I sipped on a cup of tea.

Despite the serene atmosphere, harsh thoughts permeated my head space and completely betrayed the peaceful setting I was situated in. Throughout the days of the empty apartment, my mind had wondered about nothing but Spencer; even when I was cleaning, I would get caught up on a single task because I was overthinking.

Just like now, I had been staring at the same sentence for 10 minutes without a distinct clue of what it meant. My guilt had built its own narrative that took me out of my own reality. Truthfully, Pascal was the only thing that had kept me grounded in the past time. However, he also reminded me of the fight that ensued previously.

I was stressed- we were both stressed- at the time and the fight was nothing but agitation fueled nonsense. Me and Spencer had gone through so much worse compared to our argument, yet I felt like this conflict embedded itself in Spencer’s memory in a malicious manner.

On cue, the front door had opened tentatively, startling me in process.

There he was in flesh and bone: Spencer.

He didn’t look at me when he entered the living room, but he also wasn’t angry. His shoulders were slumped, his hair was a mess, and he wore a grimace on his face. These were usually the telltale signs of a ghastly event.

He had dropped his belongings beside him carelessly and made sluggish, yet earnest strides to the chair I sat in. Within a few moments, he stood in front of me with his head still hanging low. Although with an abrupt maneuver, he placed himself on his knees and laid the side of his head on my lap.

“I’m sorry” He mumbled, his voice sounding distorted and muffled.

Instinctively I laid an apprehensive hand on his head, running my fingers through the tangles of his hair. I was still disoriented from his sudden behavior, slightly baffled to what his intentions were. Although I had received clarity as I felt my lap dampen with Spencer’s tears.

“Hey Spencer, what happened?” I asked gently, lifting his chin up slightly to get a good look at him. His eyes were puffy and dark circles encompassed them, making them more apparent. His eyes were flushed in a rouge color, yet they were painted by Spencer’s melancholy tears. His lips were slightly pursed into a frown, a small habit he did whenever he was despondent.

“I’m so sorry”

He persisted in apologizing, repeating the sentence continuously as he ignored my inquiry. He muffled his head deeper into my lap, grabbing a hold of both of my wrists in the process.

“Spencer...tell me what happened” I stated, worry encompassing my entire consciousness as my heart wrenched at the state of him.

He had finally responded to my suggestion, looking up at me with his doleful eyes. “I had- there was this c-case we had and- I- just can’t” He broke down in a fit of tears, incoherent whimpers emitting from his supple lips.

“Spencer…” I pulled him up from where he knelt, before taking him into my embrace. “You can talk to me- and if you don’t want to that’s fine- but I’m here” I professed, feeling him clutch onto the sweater I was wearing.

He pulled away and wiped his nose with his sleeve, recollecting his composure to elaborate on the reasoning of his discomfort. “I- we had a case and the unsub- oh my god, you won’t believe it- he was strangling infants Y/N...INFANTS!” He explained, becoming exasperated as he came onto the topic of the activities of the criminal. I cringed as he spoke about the methodology of the abhorrent unsub, my heart wringing as I placed my shoes in the parents of the victim.

I continued to stroke his hair, knowing that was a comfort for him, as he continued with his disdainful spiel. He stumbled over a few of his words while venting, especially on the parts where he would mention the sadistic tendencies the unsub had. I noticed the volume of his tone increase whenever he’d get passionate about the subject, considering it was about the death of a child.

“And- Y/N- all I could think about was Pascal… what i- what if it was Pascal?” He lamented, gazing into my own eyes with regret. His attention flickered to the hallway where Pascal’s nursery was situated. “I can’t even b-be th-there for him, how am I-” He paused, getting choked up as his throat contracted in dread.

I was now stroking his cheek, wiping away any evidence of tears that were once there. I paid full attention to his words, observing how his facial features would contort in genuine agony. My feeling matched his own as if our emotions were intertwined or if our bodies transcended into the same being.

“I can’t even be there for him...how can I protect him from people like that” He enunciated every word with self reproach, shaking his head at his inability of being a father. Tears cascaded down his cheeks once again, hitting the sides of my thumbs as I comforted him.

“Spencer come here” I cooed, pulling him up to my level, so he was more accessible. I stood up with him, tightly holding onto his hand as I guided him into Pascal’s nursery. He followed me in apprehension despite his disquietude, baffled about my intentions. I dragged him to where Pascal laid quietly, the music box playing in the background.

A paternal smile etched on the corners of Spencer’s lips, contrasting the ferment mood he was in before. “That’s your son” I whispered, encouraging him to take a step closer to Pascal. “And I know that he loves you with all his heart despite him not understanding what that is yet” I reassured, standing beside him with my arms wrapped around his free arm.

He reached into the crib, stroking the forehead of our son lovingly. “He looks so peaceful” He stated with a smile. I nodded, watching his face morph into a more content expression. It was as if all the horrible things in the world had dissipated and all that were in the room were the sources of his bliss.

“The things you- the incredible things- you do are all for protecting the little family that we have and I’m so grateful for you in my life” I began, snuggling into his embrace as he lifted his arm up to invite me into a hug. “And you were right, I’m sorry for-”

“No Y/N- I’ve put my job over my family numerous times, so I should be the one apologizing” He sighed, pressing a longing kiss on the top of my head while we stared at the bundle of our creation in front of us.

I pressed my hand against his stomach, clutching onto him like he would disappear again. “Let’s not worry about that anymore” I suggested, closing my eyes in bliss. He nodded in agreement, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

“I love you so much Y/N- and Pascal” He professed, pulling me into him.

“I love you too Spence- and Pascal”

taglist: @rexorangecouny @april-14-blog @haylaansmi @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @aperrywilliams

A/N:

this was def. fun to write! i love writing about more taboo or uncommon prompts

anyway i hope you enjoyed this little story, see you soon <3

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

Wait for me on the other side 5/8

Summary:

Une rencontre... un baiser... une mini dispute... Loki et Mobius se rapprochent et chacun dans leur temps se rend compte de ses sentiments...

Thank you for all the people who came aboard the ship of this story! Your comments are really the essence of my motivation. I hope you'll continue to enjoy your reading!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82281988

BiFrost Bar - 2021

Thor exclaimed, "Why didn't you say it was your birthday? We would have had a cake for you or something."

Loki replied with a gentle smile, "It's just the time passing. I hate to make a big deal out of it."

Thor looked at him with his piercing eyes, "You keep a lot to yourself don't you?"

Although lately he was starting to open up a little more, Loki couldn't argue with him.

Thor continued, "There's nothing wrong with that. But I sometimes wonder what else you have in your life besides work. A family? A girlfriend or a boyfriend?"

Loki remained silent at first, then, faced with Thor's kindness, he finally began to talk about himself.

Sigyn's House - 2019

Sigyn introduced Loki with enthusiasm, everyone toasting him, kissing him, congratulating him.

Loki tried with difficulty not to show that he was slightly annoyed.

They arrived near Mobius and Sylvie, who was really looking forward to leaving.

"Loki, I'd like you to meet, Mobius and uh... Sylvie. He's going to help us find our lake house."

"Hello." greeted them Loki.

Mobius replied, "Hi." while Sylvie nodded.

Seeing that they were holding their coats, Sigyn asked, "Are you guys already leaving?"

Mobius looked at them, his gaze fixed on Sigyn's arm around Loki's waist and replied, "No, we're staying."

He felt Sylvie's irritated look on him.

"Very well." said Sigyn, "Come on Loki, I still have some people to introduce you to."

Loki gave a small pinched smile and followed his enthusiastic girlfriend.

A little later, Mobius was looking for a bathroom and in doing so, passed by the door of a room, half-opened. Inside, Sigyn was kissing Loki.

Mobius stepped back quickly and heard Sigyn ask, "Were you surprised?"

Loki replied in a tone that Mobius found dull, "Yes, I was. When are they going to leave?"

Sigyn asked worriedly, "What's the matter Loki?"

Loki sighed and replied, "Nothing. I'm fine... It's just I had a long day, plus the crowded train, I don't know. I guess I thought we'd be alone tonight."

Sigyn protested, "But these are my friends, Lo. They're going to be our friends. I want you to get to know them. We're going to make a life here."

"I know. I know..."

BiFrost Bar - 2021

"We moved in together when I finished college of the arts. He had rented this big house. A beautiful place, on the north side of town. We were going to live there forever. That was the plan."

Thor, who was listening intently, asked him softly, "What happened?"

Loki shrugged, "The problem is that it was his plan not mine."

Thor nodded, understanding.

Loki pulled himself together, "No, I'm not being fair. I thought I wanted it too. I don't know. Anyway, I ended it."

Thor put his hand on his arm and said, "That's your right Loki. You don't have to justify yourself, whatever your reasons, you had the right to end the relationship."

He took a sip of beer before continuing, "But then, who are you writing to?"

Loki didn't answer. He didn't know how to explain Mobius.

At Loki's silence, Thor added softly, "Sorry. It's none of my business."

Loki shook his head, "No, it's okay. You're right, there is someone."

He twirled his glass in his hands to give himself a little composure.

"It's kind of a... long-distance relationship."

"For how long?"

Loki sighed, "a long time."

Thor looked interested, "How did you two meet?"

Loki swallowed and replied, "We haven't met."

"What?"

"We just write letters to each other."

Thor laughed, "Is this a joke?"

Loki shook his head again, "No, I promise."

"You mean, it's like a pen pal?"

Loki nodded his head...

Thor laughed, but Loki didn't join him and drained his glass. before continuing, a little sadly, "It's the story of my life. Keeping everything at an appropriate and safe distance. Everyone... The girl who loved me, who wanted to marry me, I pushed her away, I run, I run away all the time. While now, the only man I can never meet... him, I want to give him all my heart."

Thor squeezed his hand and looked at him with a compassionate eye, "So you've never really talked face to face?"

" Nev-" Loki paused, suddenly realizing something, "No. Wait. One time..."

Sigyn's House - 2019

Loki left the house after his discussion with Sigyn. He really needed a break. He sat down on the stairs and suddenly realized he was not alone. Mobius was there too, alone.

The silence lingered, neither of them knowing what to say.

Then suddenly Mobius said simply, "Happy birthday."

Loki growled and replied, "If one more person comes up and says that to me tonight I'll kill them."

Mobius looked apologetic and stepped back a little in surrender.

Loki sighed, "Sorry for the reaction, I know it's not a big deal. Just one more year. I guess I'm not really in the mood to party."

Mobius replied, "Neither am I actually."

"So what are you doing here?" asked Loki, curious.

Mobius hesitated and replied, sitting down on the steps next to Loki. "I was hoping... to meet someone."

"Who?"

"Someone Sigyn told me about."

Loki nodded, "Ah. A reunion?"

Mobius chuckled, "Sort of."

"So what are you waiting for?"

Mobius sighed, "I'm trying to get some courage."

Loki smiled, "I understand." He tightened his arms around himself, feeling the coolness of the night and asked, "So you're the one who's going to find us a house on the lake, right?"

Mobius, sure of himself replied in a confident voice, "Yes, I will."

Loki was a little taken aback by the assurance of his answer.

"Are you a real estate agent?"

"No, I have a house above the lake."

Loki looked surprised and Mobius added, "And you're going to rent it after I move out." He coughed and pulled himself together, "I mean, you could. If you want to."

"When are you moving?

Mobius replied, "I'm...not sure. I guess once you finish your PhD in literature?"

Loki glared at him.

Mobius wanted to smack himself on the head and tried to make things up, "Sigyn said you were in the College of Arts and studying literature."

He paused and the silence was awkward.

Loki looked confused and Mobius felt he had lost the thread of the conversation, if there ever was one.

"What makes you think we would like it? How can you be sure."

Mobius replied seriously, "You'll like it."

Loki asked point blank, "Can you swim?"

Mobius replied, "Sure, I took lessons when I was a kid."

Loki shook his head laughing, "No, I mean, can you swim from home?"

"Oh."

Mobius laughed with Loki.

"Uh no. You can't. That's a downside. There's no path to the water."

"That's a shame."

Mobius nodded before adding, "Actually, I thought... You'd have to see it, but I always had the idea that I could change it. Nothing major. But a few new elements could really transform the house. A deck in the back that would be over the lake. And stairs…," Mobius paused, embarrassed by his enthusiasm when Loki wasn't supposed to have seen the house.

Loki continued his sentence though,"Stairs that go down to the water?"

Mobius nodded, "Yeah. That's it, like a gentle curve down... So you could go out the back door and down to the lake whenever you feel like it."

"That sounds really nice."

Loki turned his head toward the house where the party was still in full swing. He sighed, "It's pretty late. Shouldn't you go back? If you want to find the woman of your dreams tonight?"

Mobius replied with a wink, "Actually, that would be the man of my dreams."

"Oh..."

"Does that bother you?" asked Mobius.

"Oh no, I'm just surprised, pleasantly surprised to know that I'm not the only one here who's attracted to a little bit of both."

Loki gave him a teasing shoulder nudge. Mobius chuckled in response and added, "To answer your question, I'm not interested in finding the man of my dreams, I'm much better off here."

Loki blushed slightly at the implication of Mobius' words.

Mobius asked him gently, "Loki, have you read Persuasion by Jane Austen?"

Loki startled slightly and replied in surprise, "It's my favorite book. Why?"

"I have a friend who likes it."

Loki replied with a half smile, "Your friend has good taste."

"Yes he does." Mobius replied, a playful glint in his eye before adding, "I've been meaning to read it. Could you tell me a little about it?"

Loki waited a little and thought before answering. He wrapped his hands around his knees and began to speak with his chin in his lap, "It's about... waiting. These two people meet. They almost fall in love, but it's not the right time, and they have to part ways. Then, years later, they meet again. They have another chance. But they don't know if too much time has passed, if they've waited too long, if it's too late to make things work."

Mobius replied, "That sounds sad."

Loki shook his head, "It's not. Not at the end. I wouldn't have read it, I hate books that don't have a happy ending."

They were sitting pretty close to each other, Loki straightened up a bit and turned his head to Mobius who had also just moved closer.

They looked at each other for a long moment before simultaneously leaning towards each other until their lips met.

They kissed for a long time, forgetting everything around them. Both of them felt a sense of adequacy, of harmony at that moment. After a while, Loki pulled back and hesitantly said, "I don't know why I did that."

Mobius replied softly, "We did this, not just you, I'll try to explain..."

He was leaning again on Loki who did not move back when the door behind them opened on Sigyn and Sylvie.

Mobius and Loki quickly separated and both stood up at the same time, looking like children caught with their hand in the jam jar.

Sigyn and Sylvie could see that they had interrupted something. There was an awkward silence until Loki decided to break it, "Oh, Sigyn, hey. Uh, Mobius was just telling me about his house. It sounds really great."

Sigyn, his face set like stone, replied in an icy voice, "Great."

Loki turned to Mobius and continued, "We're, uh, definitely interested."

Mobius nodded and replied, "Good. I'll be in touch."

He stared at Loki for a few seconds and then whispered as he looked toward the ground, "I promise."

Sylvie, her eyes flashing, intervened, holding out his coat. "Mobius. It's late."

Mobius reluctantly followed her, taking one last look at Loki before heading for his pickup.

The return drive passed in dead silence and he dropped Sylvie off in front of her house. At the moment of closing the door of the car she said to him bitterly, "You know, if you didn't want anything to do with me, Mobius, you should have just told me. I know I'm intrusive but you never say anything, because you never want to hurt people. But not saying anything can hurt too you know."

Mobius felt bad that he had really hurt Sylvie.

"I'm really sorry. I... I'm not very good at this. I really like you as a... friend, but I don't want to go any further. I... I am in love with someone else."

He was surprised by the admission he had just made to himself. For the first time.

Sylvie seemed to notice and her face softened a bit.

"It'll take me a little while, but don't stop coming to the store or talking to me because of it, okay. I like you as a friend too, not just a love interest. I don't want to lose our friendship. So I'll probably give you a hard time the next few days, but that's okay."

Mobius nodded, moved by Sylvie's kindness, "I... Thanks."

She didn't answer anything, closed the car door gently and went home.

Mobius drove in a daze back to the house on the hill and was surprised to see that the mailbox flag was up.

He opened it and grabbed the little note that was inside.

Oh, my God. It was you.

I remember you.

Why didn't you tell me who you were?

I'm waiting by the box, I know you're home around this time, so you can answer right away

Two years apart, the same conversation, rhythmed by the movement of the small flag.

M -You would have thought I was crazy.

L -But I liked you. That was our chance. You should have told me.

M -And your girlfriend?

L -What about your girlfriend?

M -She's not my girlfriend!

L -Well, she's not my boyfriend!

M -She was then! I mean, she is now.

L -Your 'now', not mine! And maybe the 'now' would be different if you had said something back then. Maybe now would have come sooner, or maybe now would be our now, not just my now, you know?

M - No! I don't know!

2021 - Loki's apartment

Loki reread their conversation, grumbled in frustration, and threw the letter across the room, exasperated. A missed opportunity. Croki spun around his feet and rubbed his legs, as if to comfort him.

2019 - Mobius House

Mobius, equally frustrated when he saw that Loki did not answer, threw away his pencil and stomped toward the house. Once inside, he slumped in his armchair, sighed and looked thoughtfully through the bay window as Croki came to lie down and put his head on his feet, sensing his master's trouble.

_________

Fortunately, Croki is there to support them... but will they finally meet? How about a date?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

#lokius fics #lokius #Developing Relationship #no powers au #Alternate Universe #Letters #penpal #loki series au #loki #mobius m. mobius #thor

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deancaspinefest · 3 years

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The Natural Sequel of an Unnatural Beginning

Explicit | ~27k | Posting on April 30 Author: supernatural9917 | Artist: somethingaboutnoodles

Eight years after his godmother Naomi persuaded him that his engagement to Dean after only knowing each other for a few months was a mistake, Dean unexpectedly comes back into Castiel’s life when Dean's brother Sam and and sister-in-law Jess become the new tenants in a mansion owned by Castiel’s novelist father. When their paths first cross again, Dean is clear about where he stands: Cas is nothing to him, and he's looking for love with someone who won't change their mind so easily. But as they are thrown together more often and dramatic circumstances bring certain truths to light, will there be another chance for this lost love? A modern adaptation of Jane Austen's Persuasion

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

'Hi! Are you Cas?' said a beautiful, tall blonde woman from the door of the stable. 'I am. You must be Jessica.' 'Please, call me Jess.' She extended her hand, and Cas removed his shovelling gloves to shake it. 'And this is my husband, Sam.' Cas had thought Jess was tall, but Sam towered over her. 'Nice to meet you, Sam. Welcome to Kellynch and your new home.' 'Thanks so much, Cas. We really appreciate the opportunity to stay here. Jess hasn't stopped talking about it.' 'I'm glad it's gone to someone who can appreciate it,' Cas replied with a sad smile. 'Would you like to meet the horses?' Jess was particularly enthusiastic, so Cas introduced her to the four beautiful animals. 'This is Grace, she's my sister Anna's. She's pretty gentle, and probably gets ridden the least of the four, so she's a good choice for you to ride.' He moved to the next stall. 'This little girl is Firecracker. We got her for my nephews to learn, and they're only four and six, which is why she's on the smaller side. Next to her is Mirabel's horse, Storm, but she'll also answer to Inclement Weather.' He smirked a little at this little joke to himself, and Jess giggled. 'Sit running,' she said in an awed whisper before laughing again. 'I love those comics.' 'I'm glad I'm not the only one who gets it. And finally, we have my handsome boy.' He patted the jet-black gelding lovingly. 'This is Impala.' Sam made an odd noise of surprise, and Cas turned to him with a raised eyebrow. 'Are you all right there, Sam?' 'Sorry, it's just a funny coincidence. My brother's car is a black Impala.' Cas's heart skipped a beat before he forced himself to be reasonable. There had probably been many thousands of Impalas manufactured over the decades, no doubt a large number of them black, and the chances of it being the same black Impala were- 'Actually, thinking about it, you might have met him. One time when he was visiting us on leave, we were watching the Cribs episode that your house featured in, and he mentioned he did some work here before he went into the Navy. When was that, Jess? 2012?' '2013,' Cas answered softly, looking determinedly at Impala and not Sam. 'Is your last name Winchester?' 'Yeah! So you remember Dean? He said he didn't really interact much with your family, but I figured you'd at least have crossed paths.' Cas took a deep breath to calm himself. So Dean had never mentioned their relationship to his brother in the end. It wasn't a total surprise; Dean had said he wanted to tell his family once it was a done deal, because his dad was kind of a casual homophobe and his teenage brother couldn't keep a secret to save his life. Better to present them with a fait accompli (Cas's words) than risk interference. He wondered if anyone knew but Dean, himself, and Naomi.

[continue reading on April 30]

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #spn fic #supernatural9917 #somethingaboutnoodles #DCPF 2021 #DCPF Promos

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badly-done-indeed · 3 years

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Austen, Jane. Emma. Edited by Kristin Flieger Samuelian, Broadview Press, 2004.

In Jane Austen’s Emma, we have before us a very different sort of heroine: a wealthy young woman who does not need to marry to ensure financial security. What a change from Austen’s first three novels! She is probably the heroine who is the highest in social class, comparable only with perhaps Anne Elliot of Persuasion, who is the daughter of a baronet (who never shuts up about the fact that he’s a baronet).

Something I mentioned a few posts back while discussing Pride and Prejudice is that the upper class are often allowed to get away with breaches of decorum that would otherwise be unallowable. Emma finds herself included among this number. She has a mostly good heart, but her upbringing has made her spoiled and disinclined to put up with things and people who do not please her. In the novel’s third volume, Emma and Frank Churchill devise a game to amuse themselves at a picnic with their acquaintances, and Emma forgets to filter her speech and says something very unkind to spinster Mrs. Bates:

“‘Ladies and gentlemen—I am ordered by Miss Woodhouse to say, that she waives her right of knowing exactly what you may all be thinking of, and only requires something very entertaining from each of you, in a general way. Here are seven of you, besides myself, (who, she is pleased to say, am very entertaining already,) and she only demands from each of you either one thing very clever, be it prose or verse, original or repeated—or two things moderately clever—or three things very dull indeed, and she engages to laugh heartily at them all.'

'Oh! very well,' exclaimed Miss Bates, 'then I need not be uneasy. 'Three things very dull indeed.' That will just do for me, you know. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth, shan't I? (looking round with the most good-humoured dependence on every body's assent)—Do not you all think I shall?'

Emma could not resist.

'Ah! ma'am, but there may be a difficulty. Pardon me—but you will be limited as to number—only three at once.'

Miss Bates, deceived by the mock ceremony of her manner, did not immediately catch her meaning; but, when it burst on her, it could not anger, though a slight blush shewed that it could pain her.

'Ah!—well—to be sure. Yes, I see what she means, (turning to Mr. Knightley,) and I will try to hold my tongue. I must make myself very disagreeable, or she would not have said such a thing to an old friend.’” (volume III, chapter 7, 322-323)

What a horrible thing to say to someone who’s been nothing but nice to you your entire life, right? Mrs. Bates talks a lot, and usually about things “very dull indeed,” in Emma’s opinion, but she is always kind to Emma. Everyone parts ways very awkwardly after this encounter, and Mr. Knightley comes after Emma to call her out on how inappropriately she has behaved, saying the joke was “badly done indeed” -- the source of the title for this project. Emma rejects his criticism at first, saying it was just a joke and that Mrs. Bates had taken it the wrong way, but Mr. Knightley is having none of it. He knows what she meant. So does Mrs. Bates, and so does Emma.

Fortunately, Emma does grow from this experience. Through no shortage of tears, she laments that she has in fact behaved horribly, and she makes amends with Mrs. Bates afterward, who is all too happy to forgive her. The way this was portrayed in the 2020 film adaptation of Emma made me feel extra sorry for Mrs. Bates. Not only does Emma make Mrs. Bates cry at the picnic, but Mrs. Bates forgives her so immediately, ready to be on good terms with her again. Mrs. Bates really doesn’t have any friends, so even though Emma has wronged her, she quickly gets over it, or at least seems to.

I was bothered by Emma’s haughty, spoiled, better-than-everyone-else attitude for much of this novel. I commented to a friend that I really hoped she had a moment of clarity that would make her grow up a little bit, because I really wanted to like her -- and this is that moment. I’m really proud of her for being able to own up to her bad behavior and learn from it.

#emma #emma 2020 #emma woodhouse #jane austen #upper class #decorum #hypocrisy #badly done indeed #commonplacing

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thescentifollow · 3 years

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To Intrigue the Slytherin Prince - Chapter One: Third time’s the charm

Hello everyone! I posted an announcement a few months ago that basically said I was going to turn this one shot called To Intrigue the Slytherin Prince into a series and was going to share the next chapter in a few hours but it didn’t happen that way... Well, I have no excuse, life had just been too hectic. Even though it’s quite late now, I finally finished writing and proofreading the chapter I wrote so I hope you enjoy reading this and feedbacks are always appreciated! ❤️

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word count: 1912

A few days passed since your awkward incident with the Slytherin Prince. It is not like you cared about it a lot or put so much meaning into it but since then something has changed. You are sure you have caught him staring at you a few times after that day in the common room. You thought that he was looking at you while cursing and insulting you in his mind, because that is what all the Slytherin students had done all the time. The Slytherin Prince was now quieter, but you can never know what is going to happen. This quietness and calmness might be a part of his and his goons’ new grand plan to torment you, the only blood traitor in the Slytherin.

It was finally weekend and you were going to visit Hogsmeade the next day. Excitement filled you in as you have not been to Hogsmeade for a long time because of the exams. The next day also happened to be your birthday. You and your close friends from Ravenclaw planned to celebrate it by having a cake at Madam Puddifoot’s first and then going to the Three Broomsticks for some drinks. The previous night, you went over all your clothes to choose the perfect one for your birthday. At the end of the chaos you created, you decided to wear a black turtleneck sweater that fits perfectly and emphasizes your figure and a dark green plaid skirt.

The next morning during the breakfast you sat with your friends Luna and Padma on the Ravenclaw table. It was not an anormal thing to do for you since you were friends with most of the Ravenclaw students. No Slytherin students want you on Slytherin table anyway.

The breakfast was jollier than usual, Luna and Padma were also dressed up for the celebration. A decent number of students wished you happy birthday, which made the day better and better. If there was anyone who did not know that it was your birthday, they know it now.

As you passed the Slytherin wagon you could feel a pair of eyes watching you. You turned your head slowly to see the owner of the eyes and you realized it was Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince. Your eyes met with his, the moment you turned your head. You were expecting him to frown or have an expression that shows disgust when you faced him. But it did not happen. His eyes were not filled with hatred and disgust like usual. Instead, they were filled with curiosity. Padma and Luna’s enthusiastic comments about the cakes at Madam Puddifoot’s grabbed your attention and you kept walking. While you did so, Draco looked at you from head to toe and wondered the occasion you dressed up so nicely for. He could not ask you or anyone. But luckily, he heard Padma asking you a question about what kind of birthday cake you wanted as you passed by and entered the Ravenclaw wagon. A light smile appeared on his face as he leaned back and looked out the window on the way to Hogsmeade.

A beautiful view welcomed you in Hogsmeade. The snow started to accumulate on the ground, on the trees and on the roofs of the buildings. The snow also brought a lot colder weather to Scotland as Christmas approached. You and your friends made your way to Madam Puddifoot’s quickly.

Even though you had been a student at Hogwarts for years now, it was your first time to visit this shop. It was a place that lovers go for dates, and you were single since birth, so it was understandable why you had never been to this shop. It had never come to your imagination that a place could be this lovey dovey and cringy.

“Hello, my dear girls. What can I get you?” Madam Puddifoot approached you and asked with her very high-pitched voice.

You ordered the cake you had planned to have and ate it as quickly as possible. Before leaving, you looked around one last time and you spoke to yourself quietly.

“I don’t think I will come here again. Ever.” Not that the place was terrible or anything, but it was just too much for you.

After this extreme experience you sure needed some drinks. On your way to the Three Broomsticks, you talked about the lacy napkins on the tables and the constantly snogging couple next to you. Just as you were about to enter the pub, you remembered something.

“You should go in first, I have to pick up something from the bookstore.” Luna and Padma insisted on coming with you, but you could not just drag people anywhere in this cold weather just because it was your birthday.

“You don’t have to. Just get in and I’ll be back here very soon.” They nodded and entered the pub as you made your way to Tomes and Scrolls.

The bell over the door announced your arrival and the owner rushed to you from the back of the shop.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” They greeted you with a smile on their face.

“I had ordered a book a few weeks ago. Emma by Jane Austen.”

“Ah, Jane Austen, yes.” They repeated the name of the author a smile, but their expression changed as they continued to speak.

“I am afraid we just sold it to a young man just about your age.”

You were surprised that someone, some boy your age was reading a novel by Jane Austen, a muggle author, in Hogwarts.

“He asked me if we have Pride and Prejudice first but after I told him we did not he just asked for any book by the same author. I told him that we were keeping it for another customer, but he just insisted so we had to sell it. I’m so sorry.”

After the story that the owner just told you, blaming them was neither an option nor a solution. You really wondered the persuasive person who bought it.

“It’s okay, I understand.” You tried to smile but feeling a little frustrated as you really wanted to read this book.

“This writer must be quite popular among your age these days.” The owner commented on the situation.

You nodded just to brush it off and asked hopefully:

“Is it possible for me to order the same book again?”

“Yes, of course.” They smiled and went to get a quill. As you told them your name to write it down, they looked up for a second and the person who just bought the book caught their eye through the window of the shop.

He pointed at the blonde-haired boy who passed by the shop with his goons as he spoke.

“Oh, that’s him, that’s the gentleman who bought the book you had ordered.”

You turned your head to look out the window and you were shocked to see that it was Draco who bought it. If it was true, Draco Malfoy had just bought a muggle novel! A Jane Austen novel!

“Are you sure it was him?” You could not believe it. You had to ask the owner if they were sure.

“Yes, very.” They answered and put the quill on the counter as they continued.

“Okay, it’s done. The book will be here in a week. You can come to pick it up then.”

You were still looking outside the window even though the Slytherin Prince is already gone. You thanked the owner and left the shop, your mind full of thoughts.

Was that really Draco who bought the book you ordered? Did he really buy a muggle novel? A Jane Austen novel? Did he suddenly become interested in muggle literature?

After countless thoughts on your way to the Three Broomsticks, you came to the conclusion that the owner of the shop was probably mistaken. You snapped out of these thoughts and entered the pub.

It was quite crowded inside, not only students but also professors were present. Obviously, everyone wanted to enjoy some butterbeer and recharge after the busy exams schedule. You spotted your friends sitting on a table close to the table that was occupied by Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick. It was obvious from the expressions on their faces that they were having a heated discussion. You passed by them and sat on the table.

“Here is the birthday girl!” Padma exclaimed joyfully.

“We ordered three butterbeers. Would you like something else?” Luna asked more calmly than Padma.

“No, that’s perfect.” You answered her question smiling.

“Where did you go?” Padma asked after taking a sip from her butterbeer.

“I just needed to get a book, that’s all. Did I miss anything?”

The moment you finished speaking both of your friends started to laugh like crazy. After a few minutes of loud laughter, Luna took a deep breath and told you about how both of them just slipped and fell on the ground at the entrance of the pub. Now you could understand their amusement, you joined them, and you laughed altogether once again.

After an extraordinary day, you got on the train feeling tired but quite happy. When you arrived at the castle, you parted your ways with your friends to go to the common room. But after such a day, probably everyone was there chatting about their day. If you happened to go there now, it would just lead to some bitter incidents. That is why you decided to go to the Astronomy Tower despite the cold weather. The peace you found there especially during nighttime was immaculate.

Someone was sitting at the top of the stairs. You could not exactly see who it was, but it was obviously a boy reading a book. You climbed the stairs and the boy finally lifted his head from the book and his eyes met with yours in an instant.

You decided it was best to leave after realizing who it was. But you just could not move because your bootlace got stuck between the stairs. As you were both looking into each other’s eyes just a moment ago, you did not notice your shoelace got loose.

He was shocked as much as you and he did not know what to say or to do. He just kept sitting there and watched you as you tried to get her shoelace free.

You tried to lift your foot in a more powerful way, but it did not work. He thought that it was meaningless to keep doing this and was about to express this thought of him with words, but he could not. One more time you thought and lifted your foot. He got up to talk and in that moment you succeeded.

He could not quite comprehend what just happened as he opened his eyes. Only after he found himself on the floor of and something or someone heavy on the top of him, it made sense.

Yes, you succeeded but you used much more power than you had planned and that led to this chaos. You felt so embarrassed that you could not lift your head from his chest for a few seconds. When you finally gathered up the courage and lifted your head, he was already looking at you. Your eyes met again for the third time today.

“Are you okay?” Draco Malfoy asked in a soft, caring voice that you never expected from him.

Prologue

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