#underrated authors

[fictionadventurer]

The discussions of Elizabeth Gaskell always seem to focus on who she's not. She's not Dickens, she's not Austen, she's not Elliot, and she's definitely not one of the Brontes. At best, they'll say she has Dickens' social justice concerns and Austen's country houses, but who is she? What makes her perspective unique?

As I consider this, I keep coming back to, "She's kind."

She is so kind.

There is a compassion in her writing unlike anything I've seen from other authors. She wants to see people. Know them. Understand them. And when she does, she loves them, faults and all.

When she laughs at people, it's not the satire of Austen or the caricature of Dickens--it's a fond, loving laugh that likes these people in all their ridiculousness.

Even when she's pushing a very clear message about how people should or shouldn't act, you never get the sense that she's judging people who fail to live up to that standard--she's just trying to understand how they got to the place where they made the wrong decision.

In her world, people are kind and deserve to be treated kindly. But that doesn't mean that she ignores the darkness in life. She sees the darkness and sin and squalor and says that's why we need to be kinder to each other. Her kindness comes not from ignoring reality but by paying so much attention to reality that she comes to care deeply for everyone. And I just go crazy over it.

[ghostinthegallery]

Taking a break from complaining about necron treatment to complain about Tyranid treatment! Because the fact that nids don't have their own books/lore/characters is bonkers to me. "Oooooh, they're too vast and alien to comprehend blah blah blah giving them characters undermines the mystery and horror..." NO! COWARDS! You want to sit there and tell me no author in the history of science fiction has ever effectively written from the POV of the alien? The inhuman? Made it both chilling and sympathetic? Never???

Gee it sure would be nice if Games Workshop had ever worked with a Hugo Award-winning author who had previously written a series including the POVs of hyper-evolved intelligent alien spiders. And it would be even better if that author had already written a book about Genestealers and so likely understood tyranid lore. OH NO WHERE SHALL WE FIND SUCH AN INDIVIDUAL???

Oh hey look it's Adrian Tchaikovsky! Author of the fantastic 40k book Day of Ascension. Go! Give him a pile of money to solve the Tyranid lore problem. Robert Rath and Nate Crowley fixed necrons, this clearly can be done. Hive tyrants and lictors already have enough individual personality to become characters in their own rights. Deathleaper exists. This is so, so doable.

There, solved the problem. I expect my copy of the new Tyranid novel in the mail. You're welcome

[tachiguin]

psst do you ever think about how like majority of bsd's cast are orphans and therefore don't even know their own exact birthdate.

[planetmaven]

reminder that Cal dropped one of the most romantic lines in YA book history and no one talks about it.

War Storm, "I thought of you in the end. I saw your face in the water."

[doctormori]

disco doodles

[callivich]

I’m sharing some underrated Gallavich authors whose work I’ve enjoyed! Check out their work and comment if you also enjoyed! 💖 I plan on doing one of these a week and if you feel inspired, feel free to share authors you feel are underrated too! You can use the banner if you want.

Let’s start off with Keith_Wilde

They’ve only written three fics but these three fics are brilliant! Great characterisations that really feel true to canon. All are set in later seasons and beautifully capture Ian and Mickey’s married relationship.

Know When to Fold 'Em Summary: Over a late-night summer card game, the Milkoviches discuss their new domesticity.

The Downside Summary: Eventually in the next season, we're going to have to deal with Terry coming after Mickey, and this is how I think it should go.

Good old-fashioned whump because it feels good to see Ian care for Mickey for a change. Title is from "The Luck You Got" by The High Strung, aka the Shameless theme song.

We Come Alive in the Evening Summary: Our boys have a year of marriage under their belt, and decide to celebrate with a little vacation to Virginia Beach.

[sometimes-sleeby-octopus]

Remembering the sonadow fic called Cracking shells. I hope sonic and shadow are still taking care of those chickens together <3

(10/10 would def recommend especially if you’re looking for something unique!!! Been adding more to my recs page on ao3 and was thinking about it)

[wonder-worker]

"We therefore need to separate out the 'facets' of [Anne de Pisseleu's] life, the way she was perceived by different groups and individuals. According to these, she could be viewed as an ornament to the court, a grasping favorite, a desired patroness, an able businesswoman, later on as a pillar of the reformed church and cantankerous old woman. At different times and over a long life, Anne de Pisseleu played all these roles."

David Potter, "The Life and After-Life of a Royal Mistress: Anne de Pisseleu, Duchess of Étampes"

[welcometoteyvat]

@apologems here, some shenhe & baizhu for you [random character pairs asks] thanks for your patience because this is really late and enjoy <3

———

The light fragrance of qingxin emanates from the little brown pills in Shenhe's palm. It will not change how the pills taste, though, so she downs them all at once.

… They're not as bitter as she expected. The taste is like… like regret softened with honey, a tinge of sweetness lingering in her throat. Something indescribable dislodges itself from Shenhe’s chest, escapes in a barely perceptible sigh. When she looks back up, two pairs of eyes—gold, crimson—human, snake—are gazing intently at her.

“Swallowed it without even a sip of water! You must have taken a lot of bitter medicine before.” The snake draped around the doctor’s neck speaks in a sing-song voice, blinking owlishly up at her. Shenhe stares back at it—and although she is not good at reading humans, and snakes even less, she thinks it seems a bit surprised that she hasn’t yet looked away. When it lowers its head a moment later, suddenly timid, Shenhe feels an inexplicable bubble of satisfaction pressing against the bindings of her red ropes.

The corners of Baizhu’s serpent eyes turn down unhappily, and he frowns a little. “Changsheng. Manners.” And then, to her, in a gentler voice, "Here. Take this dried goji and haw; it’ll wash out any of the remaining bitterness.” He takes out a burlap satchel from one of the many little cabinets behind the front desk, and places it carefully in her still outstretched hands.

“Thank you… Mr. Baizhu— Doctor.” She can’t quite remember what the person before her had said before leaving, but… any parting phrase should suffice, right? None of the other adepti chide Master when she leaves their gatherings without any goodbyes, after all.

“No need; this is simply part of my job.” Shenhe must have said the right thing, because Baizhu is smiling graciously, waving away her thanks. Shenhe follows the crescent-moon curve of his pale lips all the way to the premature crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes, and wonders if the years have been unkind to him. As she studies Baizhu’s amber irises and vertical pupils, her thoughts wander to the tomes of adeptal transformation arts squirreled away in a corner of her master’s abode. She wonders how long it has taken him to reach this form, for it almost rivals her master’s in its beauty.

“Ah—on another note, I don’t recall filling a prescription for you in Bubu Pharmacy before? Is it your first time coming here?” Baizhu peers at her carefully over his oval glasses, eyes like yellow jade and Hulao amber. Shenhe holds his eye contact, and then—slowly, slowly, like the boiling of medicine and the flow of ages past, Baizhu’s gaze becomes something… vaster, something… boundless—and suddenly, Shenhe’s falling, rushing past the sights and sounds of Liyue as experienced by generation after generation of disciples and masters and masters and disciples and the ever-present white snake wound around their necks. And then, just as suddenly she is back in the pharmacy, and Baizhu’s eyes are simply circular drops of molten gold, and he has a concerned expression on his face.

“Shenhe, are you alright? Apologies if my question was too prying; I was merely curious.”

“No. I have never been here.”

“Well, in that case, welcome to Bubu Pharmacy. May your coming days be full of good health.”

———

A/N: these two are an absolutely slept on character pair thanks for opening my eyes. sorry that nothing consequential happens in this fic i wanted to squeeze in something about not listening to fate and baizhu looking up her name for connections to the adepti etc. but that didn't happen and ive been stuck on it for 2 weeks so i threw in the towel and said to myself that i'll put it in a more-inspired sequel. sorry if this is again confusing. if there's only 1 take home message you get from this I hope it's that baizhu is A SICKLY ASS MAN (please take care of yourself)

and ofc, if ooc let me know, i heart feedback etc etc. open call for shenhe and baizhu likers to give me their theses on either character because i need to Understand them and study them under a microscope

crossposted to ao3 too ig

[br1ghtestlight]

when im making a list of my favorite s13 episodes that are all super popular and critically acclaimed choices and then i sneak cheaty cheaty bang bang onto the list

[kucho04]

Hiii~♡ 12, 20 and 25 for Mibuchi Reo

Thank you for asking, I appreciate the patience ❤️ 12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

1 I talked about this with a friend recently, I think Mibuchi has a good, close relationship with their parents! it wasn't easy at first, more specifically with their dad- but love and understanding wins :) I like to think Mibuchi is a very good influence in Akashi's life, especially after winter cup!

2 They like to style their hair in different ways, outside practice/school. Mibuchi is the fashion icon (not a model though. In the trendy wardrobe meaning)

3 Lastly, I believe they play videogames on free time at home :D (good at it, by the way)

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter? Kenichi Okamura, they can support each other 💪 also share plenty of things in common. Personality wise, it could be a good match <3 super chill

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Not much to say, I have always liked Mibuchi <3 I guess at first I was curious to see how this character would be developed (staring at the homophobic, misogynist author) and it was fine, most of it. I treasure every single appearance they have OTL

Thank you for asking again!

[yuridovewing]

ngl i know it happened cause like, “lol im gonna fuck your mom” jokes are common and funney (and im not on a pedestal i make those jokes a lot LOL) and on a surface level if you havent read the books (which by the amount of love for how deep and nuanced dotc is, i can tell a lot of people havent actually read it) its a weird and bizarre thing and people likely just ran with that and made a joke out of it, but i really never liked the jokes about star flower and clear sky because like… the way star flower is treated is really gross and unsettling and its not a spiteful or petty thing shes doing, he likes her bc shes his sons age and will obey his every whim because “shes bad and needs to earn decent treatment” and she wants to atone or whatever and shes literally treated like a prize he gets for being suuuch a good boy now (now he ONLY abuses women, instead of abusing AND murdering them)

[myneckmybackmyanxietyattack]

I feel like there are just some authors that should get more attention. And by some authors I mean Drew Hayes. Please for the love of an entity check out his books.

[adhd-merlin]

Some exquisitely crafted paragraphs from horsecrazy's modern Merlin AUs on AO3 (filed under: sentences I wish I could write):

In the solid daylight of soberness, [Merlin] would have noticed he was endangering his friendship; but whilst the alcohol had dethroned his brain, and made of his penis a lively successor, he noticed only that he was hard, and Arthur was hard: and grabbed him by the tie to annihilate him. There was a blinding transition, from sharing space to impinging on space; in a moment they went from smiling stupidly at one another, to kissing stupidly at one another. Arthur cracked his shoulder against the wall; but having brought Merlin down with him by his grasp on his shirt, kept kissing incoherently on him. It was something like inhaling, instead of kissing; they were trying to subsist on the kissing, rather than breathing: and doing it not entirely shabbily, Merlin liked to think, since they were both still living, and snogging.

Next morning Merlin performed his morning ablutions of pissing, and puking. He had stumbled into the bathroom for the one, and realised he needed the other. Thus could he be found at 8.00 on a Sunday, bringing back the mimosas for curtain call; though fortunately he was doing it in solitude, whilst Arthur slumbered in bliss. He was throwing up his guts, and his feelings, of which he was having too many at once.  He was realising now, with his head over the toilet, what he had been too muddled to realise last night; or, at least what he had been too muddled to contextualise. In the stupor of wine he had put his fingers in Arthur’s bum; and never considered what the act would do to him, or to Arthur, or the friendship. He had been in that mad dreamland in which the drinking soul reels about amidst such improbable things as inconsequence; he had been running about in that grand fairyland where today is today and tomorrow mere fancy: and now in the cold light of puking what he had left were his grubby conscience, and pants. He felt as if his heart were coming up with his guts. It was one of those moments in which it feels as if the soul must be coming up; and in communion with the toilet he realised what no God or science has answered, of what petty stuff is man made. He was a creature of sick; the physical sort, and the soul sort; and letting out a bit of his philosophical discovery through his nose, he flushed the toilet, and lay down on the floor.  

— Though Love Like Light Can Flee

Therein was the rub: not that he had done what men had been doing since time immemorial, by putting his dick in a hole; but that he had done it with someone he loved. With a straight man he loved, with his whole moronic heart. All their friendship he had been killing without mercy those small and futile hopes which the ordinary friend raises by making the ordinary gestures of friendship; and now he was choking on them: rather like Arthur had choked on his cock. The irrational heart of him had sat up, and said, not entirely irrationally: he put our dick in him; a not tremendously heterosexual thing to do. Arthur, an ostensible straight, had got on his knees, in front of a definite bisexual, and licked him till he was coming. He had taken Merlin; and afterward stood to be taken by him. So after the initial sickness, the troubled night he had spent wondering if he had not a heterosexual mate, but any mate at all, he had a lift in him; that tremendous surging of longing which men kill or are killed for. The love was huge in him; the franticness of it was beyond the confines of his small and human body, so that he had to feel the unease of his own inadequate skin.

— Prick Love for Pricking

[callivich]

I’m back with another underrated author rec!

verily_i_say has written five stories. While I think they were probably known at the time, since it’s been quite a few years I think there might be a lot of people out there who haven’t read their fics.

All their fics are set around s3 and do a great job of capturing the drama and heartbreak of this time. Their stories are a mix of canon divergent, character studies and missing scenes. I’d recommend all five as the writing really captures the characters well as they navigate such a difficult time. Especially the very interesting take on what the relationship between Svetlana and Mickey could have been like in a canon divergent world.

In general, I think it’s always really interesting to read work written as the show was airing and seeing how writers interpreted things without knowing what was coming next.

The Interrupters -

To her surprise, Mickey Milkovich is standing on their porch, looking significantly less filthy than the last time she saw him, pants down and bleeding in her kitchen. He seems vaguely nervous, shifting backwards and forwards slightly on the balls of his feet.

Even before he says anything, Fiona has the sudden notion that he’s trying to be polite, make a good impression. For some reason she’s reminded of the boys in middle school who came to pick her up before a date, terrified they might be interrogated by Frank. 

If he’s here for Debbie, she’s going to fucking kill him.

The Honeymooners -

He hears the keys in the door and a second later she walks in carrying a tray of food. She’s still wearing the white dress, her hair is down, make up smudged a little around the eyes. She smiles a little when she sees him, says good morning. Her accent is thicker than he remembers.

Here she is, the new Mrs Milkovich. Fuck.

War Wounds -

Mandy finds her brother in the hallway, smoking and leaning up against the discoloured, pockmarked wall. Mickey gestures his head back into the reception, the opening notes of La Bamba echoing and distorted out of ancient speakers. “So. You finally got that sister you always bitched about wanting.”

Mandy punches him. Hard.

————

Remember, if you enjoyed a fic, please leave a comment! 💖

[kara-zor-els]

Was anyone going to mention that Natasha Steel is a lesbian with ADHD or did I have to find out myself

(Comic: Superman and the Authority #2)