#Bookish Things Worth Sharing

[treesofreverie]

We (@theritareads, @cats.tea.and.books, @ceallaighsbooks, and @treesofreverie) are so excited to officially launch the #QueerPalestineReadathon. The goal of this readathon is to uplift and celebrate books by and about queer Palestinians and raise funds for families trying to temporarily evacuate Gaza.

If you’d like to participate, you can choose a family to sponsor through organizations like @operationolivebranch, @fundsforgaza, or @coffeesforgaza or amplify a family who has reached out to you. Then, make videos/posts about books you plan to read for the readathon, your personal fundraiser to the family, & highlight the family or families you are fundraising for. Finally, post updates throughout the readathon & don’t forget to post a wrap up with the books you’ve read & donations pledged.

Not in a position to donate? No problem! You can also participate by • Reading books by and about queer Palestinians and amplify these stories • Amplifying others fundraising efforts • Spreading the word about the readathon • Amplifying other organizations supporting Palestinians • Staying up to date on what’s happening in Palestine and amplify the stories from folks on the ground Every post you engage with, repost, share, or boost matters!

For links to fun graphics you can use, book recommendations, a sign up survey, and other resources, see HERE!

We also have a link to a Storygraph challenge featuring Nadia Shammas and Natashah Alterici’s 6-page online comic No Olive Branch for Me. For those with extra busy schedules, this is a great way to participate!

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title: Biggest Regret

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, F!Reader, Alfred Pennyworth, and made up character Dean Vansen.

Warnings: NONE

Prompts: in bold, credit @ bookished

Bruce Wayne was reading one of the many magazines that Alfred brought home from the grocery store, when one particular magazine caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N IS ENGAGED! THE LUCKY MAN? DEAN VANSEN.”

Bruce quickly flipped through the pages until he landed on the cover story. “Y/L/N is excited for her engagement, however, they’ve been engaged for over a year. The wedding is to take place this Friday at the First Church of Gotham.” At the bottom of the column, it showed a picture of you smiling next to your soon to be husband.

“I am so thrilled to finally be marrying the love of my life. This has been a long time coming.” -Y/L/N stated in a recent interview.

Bruce closed the magazine and tossed it on to the kitchen table. His chin rested between his thumb and forefinger. How could he have let this happen? It had been three years since he seen you last— he was sure you were still in love with him. What changed?

Three years ago, you were on the cover of magazines with him. You two were the power couple of Gotham. He was the rich billionaire playboy, and you were the sweet, beautiful, book author— you were so different from his past girlfriends.

Alfred walked into the kitchen, “I see you read the article about Miss Y/N. I believe it is time to send a congratulatory bouquet? Or perhaps a card?” The trusted butler asked, and Bruce shook his head.

“No. Better yet, I will take both of those things in person.” Bruce said as he stood up, and tightened his tie.

Alfred chuckled. “Master B, I do not think that is a wise idea. The media will be following her, and if you two are seen together, a scandal story will be written.” He said and Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s just a card, Alfred.” Bruce said before grabbing his car keys. Before Alfred could protest any further, Bruce was out the door.

Bruce picked up your favorite flowers and a card. As he drove to the five star hotel your husband-to-be owned, he remembered the last words that were shared between the two of you.

You two had just gotten into a fight and you were packing your suitcase. “Y/N, come on, don’t do this.” Bruce said as he tried to grab your arm.

You pulled away, “No! I’m tired of seeing you hang around all of those models! They act as if I don’t exist, and you don’t make me feel like I do either.”

Bruce took a step back, “Woah, wait a minute—” but before he could finish his sentence you cut him off. “Bruce, I am tired of waiting for you. I’m tired of waiting for you to decide if I’m worth having around for the rest of your life.” You say quietly.

“We have been together since we were 18. We’re 25 years old Bruce! That’s seven years of being loyal. Seven years of proving that I am worthy of the Wayne last name. Seven years of showing you that I want you! That I want to marry you, and have children.”

Tears were streaking down your face and you shut the lid to your suitcase. “I’m tired of waiting, Bruce. I waited for you to figure out what you wanted to do after highschool. I waited for you to figure things out with Wayne Enterprise. I am still waiting for you to figure out the Batman thing. When will there be room for us?” You questioned, and Bruce hung his head.

“Please, give me time, and I promise that I will take a break from it all to work on us.” He said, and you shook your head.

“This is the third time you have said it. I can’t believe your empty promises any longer.” You said before carrying the suitcase out of the shared bedroom.

————

Bruce pulled up to the hotel, and the valet offered to take his car. He shrugged them off, “I’ll only be a minute.” He said and he approached the front desk.

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in?” He asked and the clerk gave him a small smile. “She would be in the honeymoon suite. Are you here for the rehearsal dinner?” She asked and Bruce shook his head.

“No, I will just be a moment. I’m here to congratulate her.” He said.

The clerk gave him the room number and Bruce was nervous the entire elevator ride up. No matter what he told everyone, he still loved you. This whole engagement angered him, and he was genuinely upset. His heart broke when he read the headline; a part of him hoped you would leave here with him tonight.

As the elevator dinged, he got off and clutched the vase of flowers in his hands. One he reached room 312, he knocked. There’s not turning back now.

“Just a minute!” He heard your voice call from the other side of the door. It was just as sweet as he remembered. You opened the door with your phone up to your ear. When you had seen it was Bruce, you pulled the phone away from your ear. “I’m going to have to call you back.” You say before hanging up the phone.

You were more beautiful than the pictures had shown. You were stunning- glowing, and-and happy. “Bruce? What are you doing here?” You questioned.

He was tongue tied, just like he was when he first met you when he was 16 years old. Instead of answering your question, all he could say was: “Every time I see you, it feels like the first time all over again.” He whispered and all you could do was stare at him.

You opened the door allowing him to enter the suite. He came in and sat the vase of roses on the table near the door.

Slowly, you closed the door and leaned against it. “We shouldn’t be in here together, you know that.” you whispered. “Dean could be here any minute, and if the paparazzi found out you were here, there will be a made up scandal created.”

Bruce again, ignored your words, “I can’t live without you, no matter how hard I try.” He said as he approached you slowly.

There was no where for you to go, all you could do was allow him to trap you between his body and the door. “Bruce, I’m getting married tomorrow. He’s a good guy. He loves me, and-and I love him.” You whispered, and Bruce looked down at you.

“I’m sorry for what happened between us, Y/N. Not putting you first, and not asking you to marry me sooner was my biggest mistake.” He admitted, and you shook your head.

“Your biggest mistake was not putting effort into our relationship. I felt like I was on the back burner when it came to Batman, and Wayne Enterprises, and models.” You said, and Bruce shook his head.

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t do this.” He said as he rested his forehead against yours. “You keep putting me in these positions, Bruce. I’ve left two other guys, because you’ve come and expressed how wrong, and sorry you are.” You replied.

Bruce’s nose brushed yours, and you felt his lips brush gently against yours. His dark eyes glanced into yours, “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong.” You whisper against his lips.

His hand rested between your neck and cheek, “Then why does it feel so right?” He had no right to ask that question, but he did. His breath tickled your lips, and a tear rolled down your cheek. “Because I-I can’t stop loving you, no matter the consequences.” You stutter out.

Bruce pressed his lips against yours, and your lips moved against his slowly. The kiss only intensified, and before you knew it, he lifted you up off the floor. Your legs wrapped around your waist, as he pressed you against the door.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, and he groaned into the kiss. “Please. Don’t marry him. Please.” He whispered between kisses, and tears rolled down your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, “I’m sorry… I can’t do this again.”

Bruce looked into your eyes and put you back down to the floor. “I can’t ruin something that is good for me. He wants me, Bruce. He wants kids. He wants marriage. You don’t.” You say before opening the door. Bruce looked around the room, and then back at you. When he seen your gaze was dead set on the floor, he decided it was time to leave. Maybe you were right. Maybe this was good for you. Maybe Dean was the one for you.

“I’ll always love you. You’ll always be my first love, Bruce.” You said, and Bruce slowly stepped out. “I truly regret my past decisions, Y/N. But I love you. I will always love you.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Hot tears rolled down his face as he shakily pulled away from you.

You quickly closed the door and fell to your knees. Were you making the right decision?

Bruce had left, never looking back. His biggest regret would follow him for the rest of his life.

———

This was fast paced, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Let's Pretend for a Second it's Still Wednesday

I know it's not technically Wednesday, but my Wednesday ended up going in all kinds of directions I had not anticipated, so we're pretending for a second. Mental time travel.

I'm working on four different projects right now. I know, I know, but they're collaborations, and collaborations are my very favorite way to create things. Seriously, I've been looking forward to this stuff all year!

Three of those projects are for @carryon-reverse-bang. I get to work with three extremely cool and talented writers, and it's so much fun getting into the projects with them.

These snips are from the sketches I initially posted for the fest. We'll see what happens going forward XD

I'm also working on something for @carryonthroughtheages. (Which, btw, if you haven't noticed, is in ONE MONTH!) I'm not going to share a clip from that because there isn't much I could share that wouldn't give it all away. I'm very excited, though. Also nervous. Mostly excited.

Personal update: In between art endeavors, I've been very busy. Just made a huuuuge life change uh... exactly two weeks ago. I'm still adjusting to that and it's taking a lot of time, energy, and spoons. But I think/hope it will all be worth it. Also hoping to find my presence on Tumblr again after being a bit absent of late. Missed you all!

Since Wednesday is past, I'm going to tag all the awesome people who have tagged me even though I've been super absent the past couple of months! (Under the cut)

Thank you for not forgetting my existence even when I wasn't around to remind you of it <3 <3 <3 @monbons, @mooncello, @thewholelemon, @fiend-for-culture, @youarenevertooold,

@whatevertheweather, @blackberrysummerblog, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @that-disabled-princess, @imagineacoolusername,

@orange-peony, @rimeswithpurple, @cutestkilla, @bazzybelle, @drowninginships,

@hushed-chorus, @bookish-bogwitch, @shrekgogurt, @roomwithanopenfire, @alexalexinii,

@noblecorgi, @best--dress, @artsyunderstudy, @prettygoododds, @ic3-que3n,

@emeryhall, @tender-ministrations, @supercutedinosaurs, @leithillustration

[whatevertheweather]

Thank you @thewholelemon @moodandmist @run-for-chamo-miles and @youarenevertooold for the tags! I'm in love with everything y'all posted, what the hell.

In other news, it seems like my recipe for success is to have a Bad Saturday, unexpectedly write an unprecedented amount on Sunday, manage nothing throughout the week, then rinse and repeat. However, yesterday was a kind of okay Saturday, and I've still written a lot today, so maybe the point is really just Sunday.

In any case, what I've written today is from the same unexpected fic I mentioned in my last WIP post. But also like that post, that's not what I'm going to share, because it's not on my hit list for this year. Instead, I'm joining in with the CORB cheer by posting about, y'know, the one I started last year, good old Bait and Switch, because that's what I was getting all my words out for last weekend. Like, the next chapter is about 2 scenes away from done, when there had only been about 3 scenes in it when I started. So that's good?

Under the cut because this is already getting kinda long and I'm not stopping at six sentences.

I don’t know the answer to that. “Because I’m better than you. Now c’mon, get your head in the game. We have a plan.” “Do we?” “Here’s the plan. You give me a good zinger to make Simon go off—” “No.” “What?” “You think I can set him off with a zinger?” he audibly sneers. “This isn’t a one-liner trick. We build up to it.” “Fine,” I roll my eyes. “You long-con him, he goes off, I get my energy back. Easy-peasy.”  Baz is silent. Maybe being a dick and maybe asleep. I can never tell. Finally, he says, “And then you’ll let me out.” “Yeah,” I say. “Totally.”

The slightly difficult thing is that there's also rather a bit of angst being threaded through a fic that is at its core quite lighthearted, but I've received some comments in my time that suggest I may be good at writing things that make you laugh and then also hurt you in rapid succession, so hopefully I can pull it off without it feeling like we're switching genres.

Here's another that's a very little bit of both.

“I would not fucking say that!” Baz yelps. “Calm down,” I swat at him, but the tips of my fingers just slide through the edge of the coffin. I scowl at them. “I saw it in a film. It’s fine. It’s a totally normal thing to say.” “It’s not! It’s really, really not!” By the time he’s run out of steam screeching at me about it, I’m thinking there’s no way this ends up worth it. I don’t feel bad for doing it, but seriously, no one has ever yelled at me for this long. His voice is wearing down. Getting scratchier, which just makes him sound more violent, but then quieter. He ends by mumbling, “I hate you.” It hits weird. I mean, I don’t know. It just sounded sad. And it’s not true.  He doesn’t hate me. We’re helping each other.

Now, tags!

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @whogaveyoupermission

@mooncello @monbons @aristocratic-otter @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart

@alexalexinii @rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @martsonmars @ileadacharmedlife

@confused-bi-queer @iamamythologicalcreature @noblecorgi @forabeatofadrum @emeryhall

@hushed-chorus @onepintobean @raenestee

[blackberrysummerblog]

Oh my goddd how is it already Sunday?! I’m leaving for a really big trip on Tuesday and so naturally my house is not ready for the dog-sitters to stay over, and I am not packed. No worries, I’m sure I’ve got this covered 😒

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been tagging me! There’s so much good reading out there, and the art this week for Simon’s birthday—I’m blown away by the talent in this fandom.

I haven’t done as MUCH writing as I would like—I’m at that stage in my life where I no longer handily remember huge swathes of my “internal” writing, so if I don’t get it down right away or get called off to do something in the middle, it’s lost, and that has been my entire week, folks. I did get some done though! Here’s a little bit from my COBB that I fully expect to get some blowback over, because…well. You’ll see:

I bend down to admire some perfectly iced cinnamon buns, and above me hear someone chuckle. “You’re a Pitch, aren’t you?”

I glance up. And up. I rise to my full height and…I’m still looking up. It’s not often that I find myself craning my neck to look someone in the face, but the cheerful-looking man behind the counter must stand 6’5”, at least. He has short dark hair, square-shaped glasses, and a curious glint in his deep brown eyes. There’s nothing unusual about him other than his height, and yet I find myself staring. After a moment, I realise he’d asked me a question. “I am,” I say, keeping my voice even.

He smiles, and something feels like it’s cracked inside me. “Yeah, well, I’m Adam,” Adam says, extending a floury paw. “Adam Price. Your ancestor relieved mine of a herd of goats 500 years ago.”

Long enough ago that a grudge isn’t worth bearing, but then again, this is Watford. I ignore his hand. “If your ancestor had paid mine her due, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so wracked with guilt that he thoughtlessly left his pen open one night. Goats are wont to wandering.”

“…wont to wandering…” Adam repeats, tilting his head as his hand drops reluctantly back to his apron. He narrows his eyes. “Your family raises goats now, doesn’t it?”

“They’re hardly 500 years old,” I scoff, then pause. “The goats or my aunts.”

So yeah, there’s that 🤣 By the way, the art for this fic is SO gorgeous—my partner has been absolutely amazing and I can’t wait for everyone to see it when we post!

This snippet is from the one where Simon cleans up the room after blowing up Baz’s bed, and meanwhile has to sleep on the floor. For the first couple of days, anyway. Ahem:

“Snow.” I’m standing in the middle of the room in my pyjamas, waving my arms. He drives me up a wall. “Take the bed. You’re walking like you’re a hundred and three.” I’ve been spelling the floor soft for him every night after he goes to sleep, but it doesn’t seem to have helped.

Simon is in his school-issued pyjama bottoms and a thin cotton t-shirt, standing mere inches in front of me on top of his blanket heap. He presses his lips together and shakes his head. The motion apparently triggers a crick in his neck, making him wince in pain. “The bed is big enough for two,” he allows.

Absolutely not. “Absolutely not,” I tell him firmly.

“It is!” he objects, misunderstanding.

“Snow.”

“If you don’t want to share, then it’s all yours,” he says stubbornly, sticking his chin up at me. He always has to look up at me. “Is it because you’re a vampire? I won’t stake you,” he adds.

Crowley below. I can’t think too much about that statement, but it’s the last straw. “Sleep on the floor, then. The hard, cold, stone floor.”

And that’s it! I may not be heard from for a couple of weeks, other than posting COBB should the schedule place us on early. I will be traipsing around Scotland, then Paris, and I think it’s going to be a pretty good time! I hope all of you have good things happening for you too. No pressure tags to:

@palimpsessed @rimeswithpurple @valeffelees @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @bookish-bogwitch @orange-peony @j-nipper-95 @letraspal @roomwithanopenfire @asocialpessimist @aristocratic-otter @aceumbrellaheroes @drowninginships @thehoneyedhufflepuff @monbons @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @forabeatofadrum @c0nsumemy5oul @nausikaaa @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife @iamamythologicalcreature @tender-ministrations @fiend-for-culture @larkral @arthurkko @skee3000 @stitchy-queerista @ic3-que3n @raenestee @facewithoutheart @supercutedinosaurs @beastmonstertitan @mooncello @cows4247 @harrie-leithillustration @prettygoododds @sailorblossoms and anyone else with things to share!

[whumblr]

For science

Continuation from Bookish

-

“Geh.” Her face fell when she opened the door to the library and found it already occupied.

He sat at the table, hunched over a bunch of folders spread out in front of him, resting his forehead in his palm. He glanced up at her unintended expression of disgust and he fucking smiled.

“You’re going to have to share this space every now and again,” he said in an infuriating calm and somewhat condescending tone.

Not unreasonable, her logic centre fired at her, it is his house. But after a few days she’d started to view this room as a sort of retreat. She could be alone, books and knowledge could keep her occupied and distracted, and it was the one place where he didn’t hurt her. It had become a place of peace, a safe haven in the storm, and seeing him in the centre of it now just reminded that it wasn’t.

“I’ll leave you to work,” she grumbled, already turning to go back to her room. But he called her back.

“Sit with me,” he said.

“I don—"

“Sit.”

Glowering, she pulled up the chair across from him and slumped down on it, channelling an energy that hadn’t surfaced since her schooltime when she was called into the principal’s office.

The principal smirked at her and she wanted to punch his face in.

“You see this?” He slid a folder over the table to her. “It’s our first date.”

The file dated back some years. It was his project that first landed him on her radar. Their first encounter. Ended with her shooting him in the shoulder and him returning the favour. She turned a page, somewhat lamenting that all this hadn’t ended there. If only her aim had been a few inches to the right…

“Are you reminiscing?” she asked coldly.

“Just going over some things again…” He closed two of the files, tapped them against the table and stood.

As he walked behind her, his hand slid down to her shoulder in a smooth motion and his fingers curled. Just over where the scar was. “I don’t mind reminiscing, though,” he murmured.

“Give me a gun and I’ll gladly tag along memory road.”

He pulled back and he tugged at the file in her hand, gently prompting her to give it back. She let him pull it from her fingers.

She glanced back, following him, not trusting him. He crouched in front of a cabinet, that had been locked all these previous days – yes she had tried – and he neatly put the files back.

“Off-limits to you.” He caught her eye.

She shrugged, pretending she didn’t care and hadn’t tried to brute force it. But maybe it was worth it to steal that key someday…

He settled back into the chair across from her and continued his reading. In silence.

She glanced at the chair by the window; it had become her favourite spot to curl up, even when her ribs protested against the position. The books she’d collected on the side table were still there, waiting for her.

"Did you know that—"

"Yes," he said, smirking when she bristled up at the interruption, "If it's about anything you read in one of these," he waved about to the shelves of books, "then yes, I did know that."

She clenched her teeth, trying to keep calm at that condescending little smile, and tried again. "Did you know that there are four types of sadism?"

His smile widened. "Yes," he said again.

Patience. "What category do you think you fall in?"

"Well, what do you think?" He slid a file a few inches away from him, giving her his full attention.

She thought back to what she’d read. She’d recognised parts in all four descriptions; there was the element of revenge, he was enforcing rules, and she really wanted him to be the spineless coward, but there was one type that had stood out. “Is this a test?” she asked, suspicious.

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. See what you retained from all this reading.” He sat back and pretended to think about it. “Like, a lash for every wrong answer…”

“I read for fun.”

“You’re not here to have fun.” He paused for a bit, considering. “You’re here so I can have fun.”

“And that’s why you’re the ‘tyrannical sadist’.” Violent and cruel, the one that should be feared most. Relishes in said cruelty and in inflicting pain on others or to just watch others in pain. Everything she had experienced so far.

He flashed a half-hearted little smile and gave a little side-nod that was difficult to read. Did he lament his unfortunate traits – surely not – or was she wrong? “Half points,” he finally said. “I’ll admit I enjoy it, but that’s the central part of sadism. All types get a certain measure of enjoyment out of hurting others, regardless of their reasons.”

“But it’s the main reason,” she insisted, recalling traits of the other types. “You’re not insecure, you’re in control, you don’t lash out—”

“You flatter me,” he hummed.

“—and you enjoy scaring me and forcing me to submit to your whims.”

“I haven’t forced you to submit.”

“Yes, you have,” she said, vaguely registering how he didn’t deny the other thing. She pointed at her cheekbone. “Because I wouldn’t call you sir.” Still don’t. “Your solution to everything is violence or threatened violence.”

“Yet you still have a mouth on you and refuse to do as I say. If I wanted to force you to submit, trust me,” he said the words slowly, “you would.”

He was going easy on her. She knew that. Especially now that he mumbled as an afterthought, “You wouldn’t be able to walk either but you’d stop fighting back…” But it was a disturbing thought. He could. He definitely could. And he would so wh—

He shifted forward, folding his hands and resting them on the folder in front of him, and leaned towards her.

“I propose a fifth type,” he said, the sparkle in his eyes and grin returning. “The ‘curious sadist’, so to speak.”

“Like those who pull the wings off a grasshopper?”

“Again, various reasons why people would do that, but, yes, sure. I would pull the wings off a grasshopper to see what would happen. I’m curious. I push people to their limits. To see what will happen when exposed to certain… stressors.”

Torture. He meant torture. Captivity. Beatings. “Like the pleasure of your company,” she mulled out loud and his eyes narrowed with a smile. “It seems rather self-destructive.”

“Only if you pick the wings off a bodybuilder.”

“Ah, there’s the coward part.”

Again he smiled and this time she started to understand; all the times he had smiled when she lashed out, when she flat-out insulted him, and kept defying him. He allowed it. He liked it. Because he caused it, dragged it out. If it was just pain he wanted, she’d be gasping on the basement floor every hour of every single day. He liked seeing how she responded to these… stressors.

He didn’t straight-up pull her wings out; he just… tugged at them a little, strained them, bent them, threatened to pull them out. To see if she’d snap back. To see the struggle that would follow after being in pain, the fight that would follow to avoid the threatened pain. Or if she would let it all wash over her and submit.

“I gave you a library to pacify you. Trust me when I say one needs a certain amount of caution with this. But I am confident that if push comes to shove, even with a bodybuilder I can come out on top.”

That’s unsettling… Wouldn’t stop her from trying, though…

“Maybe you should write a paper on this ‘fifth type’. Send it out for peer review. To the police. Or just donate your brain to science.”

“Maybe later.”

“Or you could let me. I'd love to sink a scalpel into your emotion regulation system. Preferably while you’re still alive. Scientists would have a field day experimenting on you.”

“I’d rather do my own experiments.”

“Sadistic experiments?”

“Ethically challenged experiments. Stuff that would get me fired.”

“Stuff that could land you in jail.” Will most definitely land you in jail.

He merely shrugged and pulled his file back in front of him. “Prison experiments are interesting as well. So many people, so many responses to so many stress factors.”

Of course. With everything that he took from her, he’d even take the satisfaction of seeing him shipped off to prison someday… Dick. Yeah, he’d thrive there.

He rested his forehead against his palm again and looked down.

“Right.” She stood, getting the hint. “Good talk.” Backing away. She settled in the chair by the window – her chair by the window she declared – glaring back at him before she picked up the book and leafed through to where she’d left.

Pavlov. Fuck. Def not going to bring that up.

-

Continued here

Tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @scribbelle @whumpy-daydreams @whumpyourdamnpears

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

hello hello. thank you for tagging me @rimeswithpurple & @monbons !

idk if I have much to share today. Writing has been slow going, mostly because I've had to focus on schoolwork. Which I'm pointedly ignoring to make this post. So that's...a good strategy I guess? This whole master's thing is quite stressful; idk who thought I should do this. Certainly wasn't me. Three weeks left of class in any case, so we're home-stretching it.

Here's something I shared on my IG stories yesterday. Very ominous of me.

Now let me go searching & see if I have any words worth sharing.

Okay here's something goofy I wrote yesterday. Just trying to get the gears turning. Maybe it'll stay.

BAZ

@scone-lover @thewholelemon @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @noblecorgi @youarenevertooold @arthurkko & anyone who wants to share 😊

[icaruswasadreamer]

If We Were Villains: a book review

Or, the power of environmental storytelling, amazing characterization, theatrics and what it does to a STEM student with a passion for the arts

A/N: This is my first time writing a book review, and I decided to make up a little formula for myself to follow for the rest of my reviews. Truthfully, IWWV is not my first book, but it has defintiely inspired me enough to write something for it that isn’t fanfiction so here it is. Feel free to share your thoughts and bring up discussions, as this book is dear to me in many ways and it deserves to be talked about. Do note all of this is my opinion and that is all it will ever be. Hope you enjoy this review/semi-analysis of IWWV that I am less than qualified to talk about, but that is the beauty of self-expression. Please be warned of spoilers which will be marked as to where they Start. 

How I was Introduced to the Book

I first learned of the book through booktok. And I know the implications of that statement and the reputation of booktok in the bookish community. I, myself, don’t think too highly of booktok (as it is where all the colleen hoover fans worm about), but I have to admit that it is, by far, one of the best avenues to discover authors and books, no matter the romanticization of reading as a hobby or the misinterpretation of these books. Truthfully, without booktok, I would not have asked my friend to buy me a copy of If We Were Villains for my birthday and I wouldn’t be enamoured by its narrations and characters as I am right now. There was a specific tiktoker that I followed for the fact that they have read a lot of dark academia books – which is a genre that I’m getting into right now! If We Were Villains was introduced to me as a really great book with a lot of twists and turns, and I went into it with that expectation.

The Book Itself in My Own Words

Imagine that one picture that comes up whenever you search “dark academia aesthetic” on pinterest. There is a manor at the far end of the photo, distant and castle-like. Vines and greenery cling to it as if it were the old cobblestone shrine of a forest God and its windows are hauntingly grey with dust as if it were lived in by no one except ghosts. You are only outside looking in, and there is no scene you can manage from the manor. What you can observe, however is a lake. It reflects the greyish bluish white sky above it and it does not move against the life, the nature that surrounds it. It is ever present and everlastingly still; ultimately very boring to the people who spare it a glance, but go beyond depths you and I can comprehend or imagine. Think of that image, but in book form. Oh and add several other complicated things in it too, just for flavor.

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio is a hauntingly, tragic mystery about 7 friends who made the mistake of being gay theatre kids. It’s the found family trope in reverse as you watch as their life fall apart in the incident of a murder that no one is really sure who did. We follow Oliver Marks, essentially the main character and the narrator of the story as he describes what his life is like and how it’s about to be ruined because some guy was too petty to accept that he isn’t always the star of the show. Watch the 6 of them go through the motion, pretending everything is fine and that they’re all not mentally ill in some way while quoting shakespeare that no normal person does. 

As sarcastic as I sound, it is genuinely a wonderful, captivating story about grief, friendship and art. Everything is so complicated (in a good way) and you’re not really sure what to feel about all of it, but at the same time, you stay for the ride because the feelings are worth it, just to see this show to the end just so these characters can reach their epilogue finally. The way I would describe it is imagine all those reading assignments and book reports you had to do in your english class about a sonnet or play, then mix it with all the gay fanfiction one would read in the witching hours of 3 am as you sob quietly to yourself because you know your ship will never be canon. It is a culmination of these two things, and it’s awesome. 

First Impressions/Last Impressions

I struggled with getting through Act I of IWWV. And I do genuinely believe that this was not at all the fault of the author or the story as the set up was interesting and mysterious and curious enough for me to get hooked. It just so happened that the fish was uninterested and busy with other things that I did not get into immediately as I would have hoped. Despite this – and after several months of not reading – I managed to pick up the book again and return to where I left off.

Perhaps it was the fact that there was a large gap of me not reading IWWV and then the sudden bolt of me reading it religious explains why I found the first parts of IWWV quite slow. I do recognize this as a part of the set up and exposition of the book and was entirely necessary for the emotional impact that it would give me by the end, but prowling through those first few chapters was hard as someone with a short attention span and have several hobbies aside from reading and writing. 

But now, after almost a year of trying to finish this book properly, I have to say that I am wrecked and I will never be the same again. I thought I was going to hate the endng, truthfully, as its implications was bleak and somehow, undermines the efforts of its characters. But, the epilogue had me pleasantly surprised and relieved, that I would have to say that the ending was exactly my cup of tea. I’m still not sure on where I stand with happy endings or tragic endings, but I do in fact love open endings – endings left to interpretation, the kinds that will make you tear your hair out because where is the rest of it? Why is the book just- done? And here is where fanfiction comes to play, my friend. 

The journey has been a journey, and I definitely have to say that I have learned a lot from this book and that it was easy to fall in love with the book despite the rough beginning. 

//SPOILERS START HERE//

How I fell in Love with It

The atmosphere IWWV gave me which was extremely immersive and can only be described as delightfully haunting. It is peak gray – and gay – atmosphere that I really enjoyed as it felt like the right amount of theatrics to not be too dramatic and satirical. Something also surprising is the fact that it is oddly humorous despite being a book about murder, shakespeare and what makes a tragedy. Actually, considering it is inspired by shakespeare, the humorous aspect is not so surprising if you take into account some shakespeare being pretty absurd as it is. The unironic things these characters do like randomly quote shakespeare out of nowhere is so pretentiously funny, but also contributes well to what the book is going for. 

As unnatural as that would be for like a normal person, because Oliver and his friends are so deep into the shakespeare of their classes, they make it feel natural and you get used to that as the story progresses. Oliver had a really good justification for this which he explains to Colbourne in a way that I truly resonate with. This book, as well as the characters, are so in love with Shakespeare’s words that it’s hard to not find yourself enamoured by it to. I love the way they describe taking art like this as I feel, as an artist and creative, that this is an artist’s ulttimate purpose. To capture the things that cannot be said properly through ordinary words, and to encapsulate those moments of heightened emotion and feeling. Any piece of art is an attempt to reanimate emotion, and we use art to deliver those emotions that we, ourselves, cannot fully comprehend. 

This is what I love about this book, aside from its brilliant storytelling and interesting and raw characters. It feels like it was made with the intention of appreciation for art, and I really respect that as art means so much to me. This book is art and it is about art as much as it is about this specific friend group dealing with whatever just happened, and I really really love and appreciate that about this book. 

Strong Points/What I learned from It as a Writer

IWWV is genuinely a master class in environmental storytelling. The Castle, where everyone stays at during their time in Dellecher is the most effective use of environment I’ve seen in a book (which I’m sure there’s more, I just haven’t read it yet in which I will at some point). The way the castle has a place for everyone, and the scene wherein Oliver is seen cleaning the different rooms of the Castle goes to show the amount of detail the author puts into each little cranny of their descriptions of the Castle. One specific detail I remember was in Richard’s room where a chess board was described with one horseman toppled over and another missing. I may be tweaking, but that might just imply something about story. Aside from the environments, IWWV also makes good use of its inspiration material which is shakespeare.

I definitely should have gone into IWWV with some knowledge of shakespeare and I would encourage anyone who wish to read IWWV to read at least one shakespear book, because I didnt and I am incredible lost on how IWWV uses those narratives of Shakespeare’s plays to reference its own tragedy and characters and I am extremely upset that I didn’t get to experience that other narrative of the what the play were trying to tell the reader. But of course, you don’t have to have a background in theatre or shakespeare to read IWWV. It would extremely as they constantly quote shakespeare and if you don’t know what those quotes mean, you will get lost at some point, but you can manage through it (as I said, the book does well with these quotes that it starts feeling natural enough that you, too, would start to make sense of these quotes even if you would struggle at first). But, from what I have heard from people who have read the book and Shakespeare, the plays do reference and foreshadow the story within IWWV. 

The play Ceasar directly reference how Richard is going to die and who’s going to kill him. Like Richard is the modern Julias Ceasar, he is someone who has caused tyranny in their group of friends and provoked James to hit him on the head which led to his friends eventually leaving him for dead. I still struggle sometimes with that betrayal because in truth, Richard was their friend for 3 years and then they’re just gonna throw him away like that? I think it’s just how I view friendship, but to be fair I don’t like Richard enough to be angry that he died. And that’s a good way of utilizing source material! Because who killed Ceasar if not his most intimate of friends. 

This is kind of like Chekhov’s gun in a way except we’re talking about multiple guns and you’re in a gun shop and the fact that the guns are constantly being fired. Everytime the environment is being described, it doesn’t get boring or go into super great detail. I’m always seated for those descriptions of the environment because at some point one very specific detail will mean something to the story more than you expect it would. Otherwise, it contributes to the atmosphere and helps you feel incredibly immersive. I think much of what I read are heavily character-driven (which isn’t a bad thing!) and IWWV is also heavily character-driven in terms of plot, but it uses its environment well. Like it exists and isn’t just an extension of the actors themselves, but it doesn’t just exist as a setting, it exists as a plot device. A carefully crafted set for a performance. IWWV was a wonderful case study for me to be able to spot those little details in the environment and try my hand in interpreting what they mean, like a detective looking for clues – which is very fitting!

Characters and characterization was also very good in IWWV. Every character was equally flawed and all of their actions warrant a “What the actual fuck?” from me. The amazing thing about IWWV is that despite its title, none of these characters are bad people, just very flawed with poor decision-making skills. Even Richard, I would argue, is still a gray character despite being an asshole! It was entirely his fault for becoming needlessly petty and aggressive towards his friends, but I don’t really think that undermines their 3 years of friendship together. I genuinely believe that Richard was just a guy with a big ego that was too fragile for his own good and he did really dumb and shitty stuff about that. He isn’t your 2D Villain, because his actions were triggered by the event of something – being casted as someone that wasn’t the main focus of the play. And his friends and the reader have in their every right to be angry at Richard for the shit he’s done, but you have to admit he wasn’t always like that. He changed and that is the most admirable thing about the character writing in IWWV.

Everyone is very dynamic, but not too drastic for it to be jarring. They fit well together despite having contrasting personalities and all of them have something going on in terms of their personal life. It’s a shame we don’t exactly see ther perspectives as we are limited to Oliver’s narration, but we do get glimpses of it and I believe that is enough for the characters to feel real. My favorite character, Filippa, is the most mysterious one from the group in terms of backstory, but I know enough that she is willing to do everything – even hide a murder – just to protect her friends, her family, probably because she doesn’t have one of her own in more ways than one. And I got that from a single line that she said to Oliver when he asked why she hid the fact James did it. 

“You all were the only family I had. I’d have killed Richard myself if I thought it would keep the rest of you safe. [...] I was terrified you’d do exactly what you did.”

Each main character of IWWV have their own tragedy to their character which is rooted upon the “type” of character they are in the beginning of the story. They all both defy and fit perfectly in their own roles in the narrative and that is their tragedy. Oliver is the sidekick who became the center of attention by his arrest, James is a hero who murdered a friend, Richard is a dead tyrant, Meredith is a temptress who wishes she was seen as anything but, Wren is the broken and frankly, no longer as innocent as she ought to be ingenue, and Alexander is the villain with good intentions. Filippa is the curious case as she does not have set role, this does not excuse her from being tragic, but it does makes sense how she is the only able to stay relatively stable throughout the story. In the very beginning we were already told of what tragedy these characters would have and it is all connected to their role in a stereotypical narrative, how they are type-casted in their plays.

I would go into each of the characters and their own personal tragedies and flaws, but that would be really long, so I won’t. But these characters and the play on the type-casting of these actors are perfectly executed. I would like to cite James’ arc for this as he is described as being the hero, but slowly, as we see how he and everyone else copes with Richard’s death and how he gets casted into the villain role, we saw how this changes him and how his archetype of being the hero slowly crumbles to make way for a darker James filled with immense amount of guilt that only perpetuates with Oliver’s arrest. We see how it breaks him as his hero persona is no longer his. He takes up the role of the villain, and that kills him because he was never meant to play that role. Everything about him screams hero and I think he himself believed that, so his sense of self crumbles away as it is slowly revealed that he is in fact, the villain of this story. And yet, what makes him the villain is still technically a heroic act. He killed a tyrant after all. And that is just hella clever.

IWWV almost reads as really complicated fairytale if you think of it as these characters as the archetypes of their roles. It is definitely the most fascinating and creative way of character writing I’ve ever seen and that is a feat on its own. It follows a formula, yet it defies the routinely-ness of that, the audience can understand what’s going on like in the middle of the book and I think that serves well in this scenario because now, it’s only a matter of dread and waiting for the final act to commence. I never felt like I was reading an intermission in any parts of it as everything, both character and environment, serve the plot really well. 

Criticisms/Pet Peeves

But of course, despite all my praise, this book is not free of the criticisms and I did feel frustration for some parts of it whether it was good or bad frustration. It’s not a perfect book and I have a few gripes with it. 

The way it treats Meredith and Wren specifically is appalling. It, sadly, goes into that really bad trope in some queer books of the women getting in the way of the men hooking up. I really feel bad for these women because, even if they still have their own things going on and they are able to be their own characters, they somehow become extensions of the men that they are involved with, and everytime, it is extremely unfair. 

I’ll just say it, Oliver is just using Meredith to forget about James. I don’t doubt he loves her or doesn’t think of her as attractive because he does, but there is an aspect to their relationship that they both don’t deny is really connected to Oliver’s and James’ relationship. This is a flaw of Oliver’s character that I don’t like because it’s so unfair for Meredith and the way they started their relationship is also kind of dubious? I mean, Meredith went for Oliver not only because he was “nice”, she also went for him because he was the only one available and the complete opposite of Richard. Meredith had no interest in Oliver in the first few scenes of this book and Oliver also didn’t really think of her much because she was already with Richard, but he couldn’t deny she was pretty. I just don’t like the implications of their relationship to Meredith’s character and her struggle with objectification and her constantly being sexualized by the men around her. I know Oliver wouldn’t do that, but at the end of the day, isn’t he just using her? 

I desperately want to believe in their love and I do! But it gets so bad when you mix in James because suddenly, Meredith no longer exist to Oliver. He literally went to jail for the guy, of course, his love for James isn’t equal in any way to his love for Meredith. I also just don’t agree with how the ending has Oliver and Meredith together only for Oliver to essentially leave Meredith because he finds out that James might still be alive. He admits that he was still in love with James! I understand that polyamorous relationships are a thing, but clearly Oliver has shown to be neglecting of Meredith whenever James comes to his peripheral vision! I just think that, maybe, Meredith deserves better than how Oliver is treating her. 

And god, don’t get me started on James and Wren. They, frankly, came out of nowhere! I think its because we are limited to Oliver’s perspective so we don’t see how their relationship developed and how their dynamic would go. I do see that James cares much for Wren and vice-versa and that they could totally work, but god, when you mix Oliver into it, Wren just doesn’t exist. I am extremely upset about the part where James gets incredibly drunk and then drags Wren to sleep with him for the same reasons Oliver sleeps with Meredith! And I hate it.

It’s very messy, and very well-written and very in-character, but god the implications. The way these women are being treated in the relationship drama is just to serve the men’s own relationship and how they totally belong to each other, but somehow they’re not together and they have to stay with the women and it’s really messy and Oliver is a disaster bisexual. Maybe I just don’t like love triangles or love squares, but this is just a prime example why you shouldn’t date someone in the same friend group. It’s messy and sometimes, I debate with myself if it was necessary. Either way, it happened and I can’t do anything about that.  

Overall Thoughts/Scoring

I have a lot of thoughts about IWWV and the book itself has a lot of themes and messages that really struck me. One thing that I really liked about IWWV as an aroace-spectrum person is the friend group’s relationship because despite all the tragedy around them, they manage to be really wholesome and there examples there of platonic intimacy that I don’t usually get to see in books. I love how Oliver and Filippa are essentially like siblings with how they are always there for each other and Filippa is always looking out for him and their other friends. I love the brotherly relationship between Oliver and Alexander. And despite my gripes, there are moments in Oliver’s and Meredith’s relationship that remind me that they were friends first and lovers second, and I really appreciate that.

I didn’t mention Oliver’s and James’ relationship as much because I’m pretty sure that’s what you would expect for me to say. It’s a good relationship, I like it since I’ve always been a fan of that kind of dynamic where they transcend the meaning of best friends, they’re gay essentially, but they are also each other’s person and their intimacy is beyond physical. I’m just describing sexual/romantic tension here but everytime they are in screen together, you just know that they are looking at each other with so much emotion. And of course, what Oliver did for James was incredibly stupid, but also just states what James is to Oliver. And it’s really codependent, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a kind of love that makes you feel thing.

I also would like to comment on how it tackles grief and guilt as those are major themes in the story. I appreciate how despite being dead, Richard is still ever-present in Oliver’s mind and everyone else’s that no one even bothers to go to his room aside from Oliver who just has to because he has to clean it. Guilt haunts everyone in If We Were Villains and I feel for that, especially when it comes to grief. It captures perfectly what mourning for someone who did some really bad stuff to you is like with the added guilt that you somehow contributed to his death. And it’s cruel how these people just have to deal with that major change; nothing is ever the same when someone dies and we can’t do anything about it. The show must go on, unfortunately. And that’s what happens to these characters, on or off the stage, life will continue with or without them and they have to go with out, otherwise they might end up drowning in their own misery. I think that is much the moral we can find in IWW, if it even has one.

//SPOILERS END HERE//

My scoring would be an 8/10. It’s really good and I recommend it to anyone who’s a fan of shakespeare or really into dark academia. I wouldn’t say it would be the best introduction book for this genre, but it got me into it so maybe it could work for you too!

[thestalwartheart]

Headcanon Day: Bookish Headcanons

For headcanon day, I thought I'd focus on the books the MI6 crew like to read!

I'd love to hear everyone else's thoughts too, so leave them in the replies, reblogs or ask box if you have any you want to share ❤️

It's no secret Bond likes nature writing and nonfiction. He has every book worth having on birdwatching and sailing. He reads memoirs of explorers and adventurers. He's more picky about military memoirs, especially the bestselling paperbacks about the SAS, but he does like reading about their operations in WWI and WWII. You also can't convince me he doesn't love an old spy novel.

Q never has time to read anything that isn't on a screen, but when he does take a rare week or two of leave, he always packs a few Sci-Fi and fantasy books. Classics are good, and the more cerebral or dense the better. I think he loves stuff like The Three-Body Problem and Dune. I think he also likes nonfiction books on art and design, especially if they're technical.

Moneypenny is an eclectic reader (there's no genre she won't try once), but she wants you to know she loves a beach read and has no shame about it. She's the sort of woman who will happily bring a bottle of wine into a bathroom to sit in the tub and read for three hours. She's tried audiobooks and can't make them work. She'd rather read as a way to unwind after a long day at the office.

Mansfield, to her late husband's constant despair, could never abide poetry unless it was an epic that could be performed or interpreted in some other way than reading it (she always quite liked the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, for instance).

Tanner is a huge reader. He keeps up with the nonfiction bestseller list, and reads previews of books in The Guardian or the Times. He likes to spend his morning rides to work reading when there are no pressing emergencies. His preferred genres are politics, history and travel writing, but he has a stash of pulp horror for when he's feeling really terrible about the world and needs to check out.

Mallory, likes the classics. He doesn't get time to read anything except intelligence reports these days, but when he does, he has to know he'll love it. Also, I think he has a (not so) secret thing for Jane Austen and Agatha Christie.

I also think the Double-0s have a very warped sort of book club. They never have time to meet up properly, but they leave books in each others' desks from trips abroad. They can be in any language on any subject. Some of the agents have been so bored while recovering from injury between missions that they've learned whole languages to read these books. And they can always count on 007 finding the cheapest, pulpiest erotica around in any language.

[nightimedreamersworld]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you for tagging me @artsyunderstudy your new wip looks so yummy, I'm dying to read it 😍

So this week I actually wrote pretty consistently??? Like a lot of words??? I'm shook. Don't want to jynx it, but this new wip is coming along pretty well! I've got 3 out of maybe 10 chapters written, and I can't wait to share it with you guys! (Though, I'll try to hold on until it's finished.)

For now, have a snippet:

Fiona is waiting for me at the base of the tower. For a moment, we just stand there, looking up.  These places are notoriously hard to find. The towers Mages use for incarceration are extremely well-protected, as well as indetectable to Normals and to any Mages not on the Coven.  Luckily for me, although she’s not exactly a member, Fiona knows many powerful people on the Coven. And she owed me one after I had to come all the way from America to get her out of one of these very towers.  She thrusts her chin out. “Here we are. Now it’s on you.”  “Thank you, Fi,” I say, flexing my fists. A shiver of anticipation travels up and down my spine. “Did you get it?”  [...] “Basil, wait.” I turn to look at her. Her eyes look like steel. “Are you sure about this? The consequences it could have for you and your future?”  I think for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’m sure.”  “Well, then.” She nods back, once. “You know, boyo, I spent over half my life planning my revenge against Davy Cadwallader. Waiting for the moment I’d finally repay him for all the shit he put our family through. And when that moment came…” she snorts, rubs her eyes. “Shit, I wasn’t even there. I didn’t get to land the killing blow. And I just felt so empty, you know? The whole thing felt empty and cold. Not worth wasting one’s life over.”  I turn back to her, trying to hold back a sneer. “So you’re saying vengeance is shallow and useless?”  “Nah.” She smirks. “I’m saying, go in there and make that fucker pay while you’re still young. Hopefully it’ll bring you some peace.” 

Tagging: @cutestkilla @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @larkral @aristocratic-otter @martsonmars @prettygoododds @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @whogaveyoupermission @hushed-chorus @palimpsessed and anyone else who'd like to join!

[twothpaste]

So 👏 pls share your thoughts on Paula and any has you have for her (especially with her family. I’m all for that angst. Especially with how you portrayed her parents)

I love Paula to bits and pieces. After all I've done to develop her, she's probably become my favorite EarthBound party member. Which feels weird to say, 'cause most of the stuff I associate with Paula I made up from almost scratch. The game only provides a handful of tiny character details to extrapolate from, and boy do I strive to get maximum mileage outta them. But reluctant as I am to warp canon characters into OCs, I do reckon that's kinda the point with EarthBound. Itoi wanted to keep the party members vague enough that players could picture their real friends in their places, or dream up their own versions of 'em based on impressions alone. So, alright, Shigesato, sir. I've got yer small town damsel in distress right here.

My Paula's the literary nerd to Jeff's science nerd. Rockin' local accolades and the second highest IQ stat in the party, only makes sense she'd be good in school. Havin' her be clever and bookish is a fun contrast to Ness too, who I imagine is a lovably ditzy C-student. Made her an American literature enthusiast, since EarthBound's all about those anachronistic americana vibes. Made her obsessed with chess, since playing Paula at her best involves a lot of strategic micromanagement on the player's part. Her ruthless glass cannon gameplay, utilizing her unique psychic skills, implies a great confidence in her own talents - but also a secret brittle side. She's delightfully witty and self-assured on the surface, desperately insecure underneath. Anxious to admit how badly she needs supportive friends to help prop her up, 'til she comes to love and trust Ness n' the gang.

It hit me like a truck, right about here, when I realized how easily all of this could stem from her growing up with an overbearing mother.

I initially didn't get much of a read on Mrs. Jones in the game dialogue itself - aside from her bein' kinda rude to Ness once or twice. I've seen several fics & fanart intepretations of Paula having a troubled relationship with her folks (this fic's one of my very favorites!). Love how this kinda thing really gets to the heart of EarthBound's gloomier themes - kids uncovering dark undersides to things that're seemingly benign, and often close to home. I imagine Paula's mom as the kinda parent who's awfully affectionate and supportive at first glance - and genuinely thinks she's doing everything right! But she's actually deeply possessive, in a covert sorta way. She hinges her own self-worth on her daughter's reputation, lives vicariously through Paula's success, needs to prove her merit by bragging about her perfect little angel's straight A's. Hopes to compensate for her own failures and broken dreams (read: law school) by ensuring Paula has a prosperous future (read: rich lawyer) in her stead. Doesn't help that Mrs. Jones is just as relentless as her daughter, and refuses to admit fault for years and years.

Kid Paula, an only child, used to be real close with her mom. Wanted to be just like her, wished for nothing more than to impress her. Only to grow up and realize she's unwittingly inherited all her baggage. She gives herself no leeway for failure, feels as if she's gotta do everything on her own, craves praise but can hardly stomach it. Even the snarky banter I love to cram her dialogue with probably comes from her mother. Paula wears her intellect as a badge of honor 'cause it's one of the few things that earned her mom's favor. Pursues success 'cause she doesn't know any alternative. Holds herself to impossible standards, 'cause she associates mediocrity with unbearable shame.

But like. Like!!! The best thing about Paula isn't that she's smart or talented or an ultra-powerful psychic!! It's that she's a selfless person with a great big heart!! She's the one who prays for everyone's safety, and in so doing defeats the fucking embodiment of all things evil! She's beloved by the preschoolers she cares for! I imagine she helped ease Ness n' Jeff n' Poo through so many homesick meltdowns!! Her sharp attention to detail and experience with kids makes her really adept at noticing others' feelings, and patiently tending to them. Given that her mom's a wreck, she probably gets it from her dad. I think it's funny if he's kind of a pathetic pushover wifeguy, lettin' Mrs. Jones walk all over him n' Paula both. But my headcanon's that starting a preschool was his idea. He's a kind, gentle soul, who does a lot more listening than judging. Someone Paula can go to - though she absolutely loathes to burden him. Ness n' pals help to bring out this softer side of her, and remind her what a great person she really is.

There's a long, grueling period through her teens and early 20's where my Paula notices herself looking and sounding more and more like her mom, and it drives her to tears on regular occasions. Growing more resentful and rebellious. Threatening cut-offs she'll never go through with, doin' things just to spite her. But ultimately, I do imagine there's a prospective future where she gets to reconcile with Mrs. Jones. Probably with dad's help. And lots of words of encouragement from little ol' Ness.

[treesofreverie]

Resources for the Queer Palestine Readathon are now available!

The event starts on June 12th, will you be joining us?

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Good morning, my beloved bookish bats. It's another great day to dive into a new (or old, treasured) book! What are you currently reading?

🌙 We all have little bad habits. With how much time we spend reading (or even just thinking about books), we're bound to pick a few more up. Here are a few bookish confessions (some more vulnerable than others).

📚 Watching Bookstagrams that are three months old hit 10k followers while I've been here a year and have been stuck below 1,500 sucks sometimes. The imposture syndrome is there, but I'm trying to remember that I started this account for me; to share my love of books and to highlight diverse reads.

📚 I definitely have over 1k books downloaded on my Kindle that I haven't read yet. Some I've forgotten about, but some...some I bought because they were on sale.

📚 I haven't written my Fourth Wing or Iron Flame reviews, though I read them the moment they came out, because I'm struggling to convey my disappointment over both when they're obviously Bookstagram darlings.

📚 I've used a Kindle since 2011 (I move a lot), which means I have nearly 15 years' worth of books on there, but I feel like not having physical copies to share on Bookstagram puts me at a disadvantage in terms of engagement.

📚 The social media hype over a book (cough*BookTok*cough) will kill my interest.

📚 There's a certain THING 80% of Bookstagram is obsessed over that I LOATHE and will not mention out of fear of losing friends (also I don't want to hate on something someone else loves? like, you do you, but why do I have to see it ALL the time???).

❓What's one of your bookish confessions? Do we have any that are the same?!

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

Hot take - one of the biggest tendencies of the bookish online community that needs to be criticized is the tendency of the online bookish community to criticize tendencies in the online bookish community.

Y'all be pathologizing goodreads reading goals and "hyper consumerism" and the entire concept of tropes and the "deteriorating quality" of books. Like. You're all adults. If you don't like something don't do it. Literally no one is forcing you to set a goal. No one is forcing you to buy every single book or special edition that comes out. No one is forcing you to not read the blurbs and buy books solely based on whether or not they have an only-one-bed scene. No one is forcing you to read the latest popular schlock instead of books from the Booker Prize long-list.

There are things worth talking about and understanding more thoroughly in every community, but you've got to have some proportions and to take some responsibility for your own actions.

You should also very much stop talking about creators and their audiences like they are the same type of readers. These are not comparable behaviors. A creator, who often is using their platform to make money, is not the same as a random person just reading for fun. What is common among book influencers is not indicative of what is common among general book readers. It's barely indicative of the influencers' own habits and actions. All we know about them is what they are willing or able to share with us, which is more often than not an outcome of what would give them the most engagement and money. You are not the same.

I genuinely don't know how to explain to you that if a random person on the internet setting some goals for reading books is actively making you feel bad about yourself that's a hundred percent a you problem that you need to learn how to deal with. Block some tags. Unfollow content that harms your mental well being. Just skip a post or video that's not to your liking. I don't care. If you are that easily influenced by the most benign stuff online, maybe you shouldn't be here unsupervised. Just stop sharing 137 different takes about how everything is Problematic.

By the way you if you have seen those stupid takes about publishing becoming fast fashion then you should watch Abby Cox's amazing video about it that proves it's all bullshit ("What TikTok Gets Wrong About the History of Publishing").

[outlandish-dreamer]

🖤Prologue🐍

Summary: Feelings are strange. People are strange. And if you've seen it all since the beginning, you know that aspect by heart. But what happens when you finally start to feel something after denying it for longer than you can remember? Well, for Crowley, it ends with being shamefully in love with someone who has seen it all. And wanting to be loved in the way he never was. Even though he'd never admit it willingly.

TW: Religious imagery/references

Feelings were such a weird concept. They always ended up complicating things. Yet, humans seemed to either not care about them at all, and care about them too much all at the same time. Those who pretended not to come out to be brooding, brash, and crumbling inside. While on the other hand, those who didn’t understand them or feel them at all, desperately wished they did. As messy as they were, the world still ran on them constantly.  Crowley would’ve never imagined he would or allowed himself to care.  His former self was known for not giving more than a second thought on really anything. His black torn heart did nothing but beat and he was proud of it. But the latter was pulling apart the strings of his soul. Watching as they came undone like a knitted sweater in the wash.  He wasn’t sure when or how he got introduced to it. I mean, 6000 years of watching society evolve and exploring the depths of it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be surprises. Humans had such silly yet interesting ways of expressing themselves, their romances, and their emotions. Some being more common than others. Shockingly enough, when he found out the concept of “regressing” to a younger age, the demon was strangely intrigued. The concept made him feel…comforted in a way.  Of course, that didn’t mean he necessarily liked it. He already despised himself for giving into the sappy mush that was feeling human emotion, now he wanted to be cared for like you would a child? To be rid of his memories, his loss, the world for a while. To feel loved. Pathetic. Any thought that came to his mind on the subject was squashed in an instant. It was ridiculous to give it more than a millisecond of thought. Because if he didn’t, he might just fall apart even more.  Especially when that longing was for a bookish, warm, white-haired angel. Oblivious and clueless at times, but in a devilishly darling way. His loathing and isolation kept the demon from sharing really any of this to Aziraphale. His emotion, nastiness, neediness, self-hatred, and want for something more. He didn’t deserve to be put through this. Or really any of Crowley that he had seen before. Aziraphale was worth more than that.  So, as disgusted as he was with himself, the demon was grateful that the other knew hardly anything about his pain. It was better that way. Keeping people at arm's length came as easy as breathing for him. Just another tool in his arsenal.  However, that didn’t stop him from having these strange moments. Slowly, he’d find himself gazing wistfully at parents comforting their children on a tv program. Or lingering too long on the thought of holding a pillow close at night. Why couldn’t it be like that? Why did it feel wrong to want that?  But then again, he was a demon. Made to deceive and sent to Earth to tempt. Just another vessel to bring chaos upon whomever and wherever you please. He hadn’t always been that way, but when the one thing you’re known for is regaled throughout all space and time, it doesn’t really matter what you were before. So, what else is he supposed to feel other than disgust towards himself? It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have (figuratively and literally) hell to pay if anyone else found out. After all, there is no peace unto the wicked. He wasn’t wicked, or at least he didn’t think he was. But now, he wasn’t so sure.  For only the darkness of his flat could bear to listen to his cries.

A/N: Tysm for reading!! Let me know what you think if you want, I'd love your feedback <3 I hope you're all having a lovely day/night. Updates will be here S O O N

[thereaderbee]

☀️ August is right around the corner, and it's time to get ready for #AlltheBooksAug23, the August Book Challenge! We made it through July, Bookworms ... How's Summer going for everyone? It's been HOT here, and I'm dreaming of cooler weather and fall colors already. lol Hopefully the August challenge help up get through this month a little faster. I'd love for you guys to join along! Book challenges are great for so many reasons. They give you daily ideas for posts, help you share your love of books and bookish things, AND help you find awesome new bookish friends as well. To join along, just share a photo for each daily prompt using the monthly hashtag. Check the hashtag to see all of the photos that have been shared for the challenge. Fee free to post and interact as little or as much as you’d like. 📚 Helpful Bookstgram Tips: • Take a few days worth of photos at a time. It helps to have extras available if you get busy. Also, drafting out your posts ahead of time really helps as well. • Natural lighting is great! Grab a book and head to your nearest window for some awesome lighting. • Interact! Share some likes and comments while you discover some new books and meet new people! 📚 If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask! And feel free to share the challenge with your friends! 📖 📚 📖 📚 📖 📚 📖 #allthebooksjul23 #bookchallenge #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #bookcommunity #booknerd #books #reading #booksofinstagram #readersofinstagram #bibliophile #bookstack #becauseofreading #booksaremagic #ilovebooks #bookobsessed #booklover #bookish #yabooks #romancebooks #fantasybooks #cozyreading #booksarelife #currentlyreading #booksbooksbooks #readingtime #readmorebooks #summerreading #summerreads — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/tGTvbxF