#goal is to read at LEAST twelve books next year

[supportingfire]

when your partner gets you a reading log for xmas and a bunch of pens and you start feeling *~aesthetic af~*

[ur-lll]

So, this is the first part. It's the first time I write something so long, especially in English. It's not my first language so be nice ahah.

TW: swearing cursing bad words. I'm serious, I don't want to be responsible for you, kids, swearing. Also it's kind of sad. So don't read it if you don't like sad things. :(

--------- Roots of your problems : part 1

- Is it painful?

- What? To marry?

He chuckled loudly, yet he silenced himself fastly, as if it helped for her not to get offended by her little stupid question. But she felt so stupid for asking that to him. How could someone who’s never been married tell her how is that to be married? Well, atleast that's what Clef always said. ”I've never been married”. Alto lies a lot. Like, all of her childhood he used to lie, and lie, but somehow she doesn't think that it's one of his lies. How can a man like him lie about being married? He doesn't look like he has a wife or kids at all. And Marzia felt an embarrassment by asking something so stupid from a man who aren't even able to fall in love (at least that's what she thought about him and that's what she said to her)

And she was twelve once. She doesn’t go to school. When your adoptive parent works for a super-top-secret organisation and your sibling starts college to get a job at the same organisation it’s not like you have time or an opportunity to live a normal life. To be honest, it was ok for her to get an education at home. Marzia never liked other people, it was tiring to even be at the same room (it wasn’t the same with Michelle or Alto. Maybe it's because they’re not, exactly, ”people”?). People are gross. They're loud, they're stupid, they're nosy and Marzia didn't like them at all. Some of them were tolerable enough, like Glass. Their visits were long and she got used to him.

- She needs to socialise. You know how is it important for her age…Michelle, you have to…

- I know that. You see, she doesn't want to. She doesn't even pay attention to me, it's like I'm dead to her. I'm so, so fucking tired.

No. No, that's not true, she doesn't see him dead. Why did he say that? Maybe that's because she doesn't notice him sometimes? But that's not on purpose, that's just how her brain works, that's it. Sometimes it's just hard to talk, but he is dear to her. If only she was able to tell, things would be easier.

When she turned eighteen, she realised, that it's hard to find friends in the Foundation. Marzia didn't have even one, but somehow, she ended up in a group of pathologists. That's how she met Clem, who just got out of college straight to the Foundation. She was older, she was fun and she was like a star. Like a sun, but Marzia is nothing but a moon. She's not even a fucking planet, she doesn't deserve any of her warmth, but yet, somehow, she's here for her. So they're friends, for the first time Marzia had a friend who wasn't looking at her like she was a burden.

Oh, how she tried to shapeshift. She had a great example to follow, it was easy to pretend to be someone she wasn't. She tried to wear makeup and bright, extravagant clothes, she was unhinged, she was loud and sometimes it was too much of her in the room and she felt embarrassment when her laugh was just a bit, just a bit off. It’s like she was laughing a little bit longer and louder and somehow, she found herself crying while laughing. Because she couldn’t stop. She was trying, but she was laughing and laughing while tears are rolling down her cheeks.

And Marzia, stupid, little Marzia, Marzia with no friends at the age of eighteen, Marzia with no goals for the future, Marzia, who's life for the next fifty years is gonna be this stupid, concrete base, dusty shelves full of books and articles and paragraphs she'll never be able to understand, she was so lucky to have someone at her side, to have a person, the only person in the whole world who LOVES her and doesn't even wait to be loved back. And she was grateful, and she was trying so much to not be this stupid, little Marzia with her stupid socialising problems.

And they're sitting in front of fireplace. It's almost midnight and Clef and Michelle are already sleeping in their rooms. Clef doesn't like Clementine, neither does Michelle, but still, he allowed them to have a sleepover, and they're talking till the midnight and they're laughing and hushing at each other and Marzia knows that Clef is not sleeping. He's waiting. It's like he felt all this shit that was hiding inside Clem, he knew it. He felt it. But Marzia didn't care at all, he can think what he wants, she liked her. Even if she's evil. Even if they're doomed as a couple, and it won't be the last time it happened to Marzia.

- I want to show you something. Can I...uhh...trust you? Can I?

Clem nodded without saying a word. Her dark brown eyes reflected gold from a fire next to her. She was in flame herself, she was that flame from a fireplace. The only one who understands her. Her only friend. Her lover. And her eyes got wider as something tickled her ear as Marzia tucked hair behind it. Marzia handed her a flower. And Clementine knew about Michelle. She knew everything about her family, everyone did. And her face acquired a grimace of regret. She stood up immediately.

- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I can't. I don't want to...Shit, why did you do that to me? You know how complicated it's gonna be. I thought you aren't...you can't...warp...- She got silent, pursing her lips. And Marzia knew, she wasn't able to deal with a reality bender. She didn't want to have problems, to be in danger and to have her family and her friends in danger. And more, she didn't love Marzia back. She liked her, yes, but she didn't love her.

- I'm sorry. I'll call a taxi.

And Marzia is looking at her. And a big, painful lump got stuck in her throat.

- Marzia.

- Yes?

She was hoping so much that she'll change her mind.

- I won't discuss it ever again. And I don't want to talk again. Please, leave me alone, ok?

The door closed.

And the first abnormal spot ended, pulling her out of her own memories.

Now Layla is here.

- We got everything we wanted. Let's get out of here.

[ninja-muse]

So it's somehow the end of May? Not sure how that happened, even though I have been busy so of course the time has flown by! Things done this last month include hosting family multiple times, visiting my first cat café, visiting family, wedding reception, and baking my first rhubarb pie. Somehow I managed to fit 9 books and 2 DNFs in there, and was very good about not taking too many ARCs home. I didn't even buy anything!

Also, this is the first time I think I've ever underpacked physical books for a holiday. I thought for sure that the SF book I popped in my bag would last me at least three days but no, A History of What Comes Next was a fast read and lasted one. Thank goodness for Libby and my cache of T. Kingfisher e-novellas, is all I'm saying. Reading those back to back got my reading goal back on track for the year.

Novel is still progressing apace. Digger is still not shipped. It is reading outdoors weather but I've yet to do so. Nothing else to report.

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

Magisteria - Nicholas Spencer

A history of the interactions between science and (Western) (mostly Christian) religion.

7.5/10

warning: discussions of racism, race science, eugenics, historical Islamophobia

After Villon - Roger Farr

Poetry written in conversation with a late medieval French criminal-poet.

🏳���‍🌈, 🇨🇦

The Sinister Booksellers of Bath - Garth Nix

Susan and Bath’s magical booksellers must rescue Merlin after he’s trapped in a map—which might mean taking on an unknown Sovereign.

6.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (genderqueer), Afro-British secondary characters, Muslim secondary character

A History of What Comes Next - Sylvain Neuvel

A lineage of scientifically-minded women work behind the scenes with one goal: Get Them To The Stars Before Evil Kills Us All.

7/10

main characters consistently read as POC, 🏳️‍🌈 main character (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic), Black-Russian secondary character, Chinese-American secondary character, 🇨🇦 Warning: attempted rape, early methods of conversion therapy

Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers - Jesse Q. Sutanto

When Vera finds a body in her tea shop, she knows exactly what to do—call the police and then solve the murder herself.

7/10

Chinese-American protagonist, largely Asian-American cast, Chinese-Indonesian author

warning: domestic abuse (not physical)

A Master of Djinn - P. Djèlí Clark

Agent Fatma investigates a mass murder with possible ties to djinn magic.

7/10

largely Egyptian cast, Nubian secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 main character (lesbian), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic), largely Muslim cast, African-American author

warning: contains racists, colonial mindsets, and cultural appropriators

Kiss Her Once For Me - Alison Cochrun

Ellie agrees to a fake engagement and marriage over the Christmas holidays—only to find out her fiancé’s sister is the one-night stand she couldn’t get over.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (bi), main character with anxiety disorder, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian, trans, nonbinary, multisexual), Korean-American secondary characters, Latinx secondary character, Filipina secondary character, secondary character with ADHD

warning: depiction of anxiety and panic attacks, toxic parent-child relationship

Minor Mage - T. Kingfisher

Twelve-year-old Oliver is sent away from his village on a quest to bring back rain. He knows three spells, and one is to repel armadillo dander.

6.5/10

Mortal Follies - Alexis Hall

Maelys Micklemore has been cursed, a terrible thing for a young Regency woman. Her best hope of breaking the spell is the mannish Lady Georgiana, who might be a witch. Out in June.

6.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (sapphic), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic, gay, trans woman), Black British secondary character, Afro-British secondary character

Picture Books

The Octopus Escapes - Maile Meloy with Felicia Salter (illustrator)

An octopus is brought to an aquarium. Being captive is great—at first.

DNF

The Last Heir to Blackwood Library - Hester Fox

Ivy inherits an estate in Yorkshire, with a magnificent library, recalcitrant servants, a ghost, and a curse.

The Absolute Book - Elizabeth Knox

A woman who lost her sister to violence finds herself drawn into another world with bearings on her family history.

Currently reading:

Shadowlands - Matthew Green

Short histories of lost settlements from across the UK.

The Gifts - Liz Hyder

In 1840s England, a woman grows wings.

Stats Monthly total: 9+1 Yearly total: 53/140 Queer books: 5 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 3 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 2 Off the TBR shelves: 2 Books hauled: 0 ARCs acquired: 3 ARCs unhauled: 2 DNFs: 2

January February March April

[inkofamethyst]

December 10, 2022

Thinking about how I had the weirdest, most emotionally-draining weekend a year ago.  I had a mild anxiety attack over being asked out, I lost the solo I’d worked so hard on (they cut the song out of the repertoire (every time I go to an event where this one specific girl who was involved in that decision is also there, I learn a little bit more about that situation and I think she just feels really really bad about it but apparently most of the sections were struggling with it and it just wasn’t coming together)), and then there was a covid outbreak the following week that postponed the concerts altogether.  Hmph.  Memories.  And lots of journaling this week.

I finished Crooked Kingdom last night!!!  Loved it!!!  Thought the.. shocking event near the end was kind of glossed over to the point where I felt insulted for that character, but whatever.  GAH it’s got to be one of my favorite YA series.  Now I have to figure out what to read next...  OH!  That book about Jean Luc Picard, of course!

Also I’ve seen two spiders in my room in less than a week???  That is unacceptable!  The main downside to winter is that all the big buggos decide to stay inside more as well and I hate them for it!  If I could have one superpower it would be the ability to maintain a 20 foot radius of no bugs (secondarily, I’d like kinetic energy manipulation, like Quake :D).

Anyway, you know what time it is.  I’m overly ambitious and I’ve got six weeks of no school and I wanna use ‘em, so it’s time for... Winter!  Break!  Goals!!!  We all know the rules to this game, but for any newcomers, allow me to elucidate.  There’s a bunch of stuff that I plan to do whenever I’m home from school, and I consider a long break to be successful if I can finish three of them.  So let’s begin the list, shall we?

Input all the dna sequence data for my research and get back on that grind (and also just organize my data a bunch more)

Read up a bunch of archaeology and geology papers, also for research purposes

Teach my dancer-friend how to read music so she can audition for choir (if she still wants)

Maybe go to the zoo?  (this is less of a goal but there’s a lil zoo near my campus that I’ve never been to)

Stretch three times a week (to prepare for ballet in the spring)

Just do one alteration/mend, just one is all I ask

Maybe make that one dope jumpsuit from Mood Patterns

Make a mockup of that ulster coat for my dad (and also maybe find the fabric for it)

Make the cropped jacket from Charm Patterns, or at least a good draft of it

Make/find a petticoat or slip or something that will allow me to wear long circle skirts without them sliding between my legs

Maybe go ice skating

Make more of my off-brand jerk spice mix

Finish that Paradise arrangement

Find people for my One More Soul arrangement

Find a dress for the orchestra’s spring formal

This winter will be an interesting one because I have to fit in some of my goals while also being a TA for the first time which I’m really looking forward to.  It’s a subject that I could probably (and would love the opportunity to) talk about for sixty hours straight.

Today I’m thankful for the fact that my blackened salmon turned out really really well???  It’s my first time making salmon myself, and I was afraid of overcooking/drying it out but it went really well!!  I think next time, I might try marinading it beforehand to see if the spice flavors can seep deeper into the flesh, but it was absurdly quick to make and I’ll get four dinners out of it.  The only problem is that salmon ain’t cheap lol.

I’m really looking forward to the concerts tomorrow (even if the twelve-hour day drives me to madness! (though I’ll be able to test how much time I’ll actually need to get from my apartment to my “early” class next semester at the performing arts building in the mornings and what that’ll mean for my wake-up time))!  I’m also looking forward to them being over so I can focus on other things (like getting some sleep <3 (and also my apps and essays lol))!

[albelen]

2023 reading review and 2024 reading goals

Here I am, on the last day of 2023, reflecting not only about life but also on the books I've read these past twelve months.

My reading goal this year was 25 books. I was confident about it because I got a Storytel subscription last December 2022 and I was convinced that listening to audiobooks would help me go through my TBR - and it did, for a while.

I mostly listened to a few contemporary romance and YA fantasy audiobooks because I found them easier to follow. None of them stood out to me, except for the Wall of Winnipeg and Me, which was such a cute and lovely story albeit the poor writing.

I read another Joan Didion book (Let Me Tell You What I Mean) and I finally picked up All About Love by bell hooks. I'm still trying to find a way to appreciate non-fiction books more.

Letting the hype get into me, I read Babel by RF Kuang. I have to be honest, I wasn't a big fan of the Poppy War, but I still had big expectations from Babel, but alas, I found it hard to finish. It was not bad and you can totally tell that RF Kuang is intelligent (I mean, she has masters and a PhD from prestigious universities) and knows her stuff. However, even if the plot sounded very promising at first, the pacing was too fast for what it was trying to be/do and the characters were not as fully fleshed out as they should be. Robin as a main character felt too passive and indecisive, his brother would have made a better lead.

If I were to pick my favorite from all the 22 books I read this year, then it definitely has to be Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati. It is by no means perfect, but it's a perfect example of a good retelling of an ancient myth and an ancient female character. I went to her book signing (she was so nice!) and she mentioned how she wrote this book in a way that it can be accessible to anyone. I didn't think I could love Clytemnestra and grieve for her, but you can feel her anger and grief through the pages. This book was amazing and it's even more amazing that it's a debut novel.

I might not have reached my reading goal, but I also don't feel too bad about it because I reread the entire Captive Prince trilogy and read so many well-written fanfics (SakuAtsu, LaMen and JereJean mostly lol).

I haven't decided how many books I will set as my goal for the next year, but I hope I'll have the time and energy to read more non-fiction books and go through at least one classic. I also want to reread the Stormlight Archive 1-4 before the the fifth book comes out. The second book of the Wheel of Time is definitely on the list of books I have to go through this year as well as book three of the Mistborn trilogy.

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

‘To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before’ AU: dear, hello, salutations, love, sincerely, from, goodbye

Sincerely, From, Goodbye, Caitlyn Kiramman

The field of desire. A betrothed finding themself waiting in the tall grass as their love takes nervous step after nervous step towards them. All the cards are officially laid out on the table as they reach for each other, the longing instinctual, incomparable, indescribable and… incredibly dull.

The cool summer breeze flows in through Caitlyn’s open window as she slams her book shut with a huff, shifting in the assortment of pillows she’s stacked and layed all around to keep her comfortable and her spine intact.

That would conclude the seventh syllabus book of the summer. There were still just a few to come and the school year was going to start in just over a week.

She’ll definitely have to cleanse her reading palate from that novel. Unrealistic and convoluted romantic book with more tropes and cliches than you could count. A conclusion only a hopeless writer desperate for an escape to an alternate universe where roses grow between cracks on the road and pupils transform into hearts could come up with. The type of book she would read at twelve and would proceed to fuel her fantasies for the next few weeks. An unattainable dream that clouds the minds of young kids and gives them false hope, leading them to the disillusionment of the real world.

Caitlyn has goals that she refuses to take her eyes off of and they can never be achieved with the distraction of attraction and the mess a family that is hardly deserving of the term.

She’s grown out of the thrum she used to feel whenever certain girls got too close (at least that's what she’d like to believe), focusing on school and her future instead. A lot more stable and significantly more logical.

But once she’s thrown back into the world of romance, letters from the aching heart of a younger Caitlyn seeing the light of day they were never destined for, Caitlyn starts to learn that maybe she was wrong on her outlook on life.

Weekly Releases Starting September 17th, 2023 [;

[ozma914]

2022 Book Sales Report, Now Fortified With Jokes

Like many writers, I like it when people read my stuff. I like it even more when they buy my stuff, because that gets me one step closer to retiring to the life of Gentleman Author.

(There used to be a thing called Gentleman Farmer. I suspect that means sitting on your front porch while someone else does the actual work.)

My goal, coming into 2022, was to sell an average of one book a day. It doesn't seem like much: Just 365 books in a year. But according to the experts, the average book sells a grand total of 300-500 books, depending on circumstances such as whether they're self or traditionally published. It takes only 3,000 sales to get on the Wall Street Journal best-seller list, if that gives you an idea. And yet, according to my research, over eight billion new books are published every year.

I might be a little off on that number. But it's a lot. (The actual number is estimated to be between 2-4 million a year.)

That average of a book a day seemed like a good goal, and I succeeded. But that's not the whole story. I have four books on Amazon Ads, which takes a great deal of work to balance out sales and costs, and in that I did not succeed. In other words, I spent more money than I made. Anyone will tell you that's not a sustainable business model, unless you're the government.

The other thing is that it's hard for an author to tell how many copies they've actually sold. Confusing authors seems to be a dearly loved tradition in the publishing industry. I spent quite some time totaling mine up, and in the end I came up with 539 sales in 2022.

But.

First, that's not the final number, because I still haven't gotten quarterly and biannual royalty reports from a few of my publishers.

 Second, while that's pretty good for one book, my sales were divided over eleven books. My biggest single seller was the romantic comedy Coming Attractions. Some of those weren't sales at all, but a giveaway over the holidays.

My second biggest seller was the humorous history book Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All. Everybody seems to love this book, and that came as a surprise because, although I have three history books, I consider myself more of a fiction writer.

But now I'm wondering if I shouldn't write something else of the same nature. Humor, history, trivia ... but about what? Hopefully something that gives me an excuse to travel around, like Hoosier Hysterical did.

So, what's my next goal? I figure that should be to sell at least one book every day. That's not the same: Yes, I sold over 500 in 2022, but some days I'd sell ten or twelve, and other days none at all. Due to illness and injury we didn't get Storm Chaser and The Notorious Ian Grant reissued as planned, so when they come back out at a lower price that should help, some. Meanwhile, I've got other books to sell, write, and dazzle agents and publishers with, so the work continues. (I submitted to agents, publishers, and fiction magazines 375 times in 2022.)

Oh, you didn't know the writing business was work? Well, there you go.

  You can find the aforementioned books here:

http://markrhunter.com/ https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

  Remember: Every time you don't buy a book, the Plain States get another blizzard. Spare the plows.

[micugrowthspotlight]

Time Management and Awareness

Time management has got to be one of the most overused, useless, and frustrating phrases in business. I’m dead serious. Whenever I see someone title something time management, I know I will be drawn to read it, knowing that whatever gimmick they give will be nothing new or useless.

So, why did I title this article “Time Management and Awareness?” Gotcha, didn’t I? You and I may be more alike than you may have thought.

But hold on.

Before you exit this page, I have something to tell you…

Lean in close. This is a doozy…

I have an exercise that will actually change your life AND help with that crazy annoying phrase too. This simple work paper will:

Force awareness of what consumes our time in a day

Explore what mental impacts everything you take in or create has

Help you to quantitate progress towards or away from your goals

I call it the Micu Growth Inflows & Outflows Exercise.

Typically this working paper is only available to coaching clients paying upwards of $12,000 a year. But today, because you are a newsletter subscriber, I’m offering it almost for free. Of course, nothing in life is free, so I have one thing to ask you. It’ll only take a few moments of your time. Would you please subscribe and share this edition with three people who could also benefit from 10X materials?

Great! You are a natural collaborator, and for your efforts, I thank you.

Now, let’s dive in and see what comes from this exercise. I’ve included a link to access the interactive form you can also print here:

Next, a little explanation of how to utilize this tool to its maximum effect.  

Go deep, and I mean really deep. The first time through this exercise, it should take no less than 30 minutes to complete. After that, I recommend spending at least 15 minutes brainstorming what you consume (inflow) and creating (outflow) each day.

Inflows and outflows are broad descriptors for the daily energy, nutrients, thoughts, actions, or feelings you experience. Write anything that comes to mind, even if you are unsure whether it is an in or outflow.

Don’t prejudge your thoughts. Write them all down. Nothing on page one is good or bad, positive or negative, beneficial or otherwise.

Page two will be challenging if you don’t have 10X Goals. So, create at least five goals you want to achieve in the next 12 months. Better yet, reach out, and I’d love an opportunity to introduce you to the 10X way of goal setting.

Create a 90-day action plan with what you have identified. Example: Make $1.2M in revenues in the next twelve months. What do you need to do next quarter to make that happen? Next month? Next week? Today? This is such an important step; keep an eye out for a Millionaire Math edition coming soon to explore how to do this in more detail.

Commit! Go all-in, 100% of the way to your plans, and revisit the inflows and outflows exercise as often as you need to stay aware of your time and influences. I recommend weekly, then monthly, and quarterly as you become more familiar and aware.

For more on creating an extraordinary life of success, download the FREE E-book “10X Super Life” ->

10X

-Gary, Micu Jr.

President, Micu Growth Consulting

10X Certified Speaker, Coacher, and Mentor

Grant Cardone Licensee

[transmasc-wizard]

actually!! fuck cynicism!!

yeah, on a large scale, 2022 is going to be bad. I know that. The world is shit for a lot of reasons, and they can't be fixed in the next 2 days to go "hurrah, 2022 will be perfect!" but on a small scale, it can be good. I know i'm going to try as hard as i can to make it good for me, or at least better.

I'm going to read books that i want to instead of ones i feel like i have to because they're popular. i'm going to write the stories i want to see. i'm going to be nicer to people. I'm going to draw things i like. im going to be nicer to myself over the things i create. I'm going to focus on the progress i make instead of the goals i don't hit. i'm going to try not to compare myself to my past achievements. i'm going to congratulate myself when i brush my teeth two days in a row. i'm going to drink more water.

these are all things I can do. it's okay if you can't do those things for yourself--find the things you can. Anything is allowed to go on the list!! whether it's as small as "get dressed as many mornings as i can" or as big as "write a play", put it on the list. And be nice to yourself for trying. That's the big thing, to me. When you look back on 2022 twelve months from now, think. Did you try to clean your room more often? that's good, even if you didn't do it. Did you try to rest more? that's good, even if it didn't really happen. Did you try to be kinder to yourself? That's good, even if it's not working yet.

you are allowed to be hopeful!! you are allowed to con yourself into having a good year!!! in a world full of cynicism and anger, hope and kindness are rebellions!! be nice to yourself. you're allowed to want 2022 to be good, and you're allowed to try and make it as good as you can.

[yourmcu]

Birthday

Pairings: The Avengers x  reader

Summary:

It’s your birthday and the team gets creative on how to surprise you, putting their acting skills to the test.

Word count: 2,350

A/n: just a little something because,, well,, it’s my birthday *runs away* also it’s cheesy, hopefully it makes sense lmao

Warnings: uhhh brief mention of explosion? mostly fluff

The Avengers wanted to get creative for your birthday this year. For the few years they've known you they picked up on things about you. One, you paid no mind to your birthday at all and just considered it a normal day like the rest of the 365, Tony took note that you hated parties, at least the really big ones, something that involved only the team would be good.

Okay, you sound like a party pooper, but that isn't the case; it's not a crime to just... not want to have a grand celebration, right? And people singing the 'happy birthday' song to you too while you just sit there in silence. It's awkward, you once told Natasha. It’s also awkward and hard for you to receive presents even though that’s what birthdays are all about, you’re still getting used to it since you knew someone like Tony Stark.

Well, the team think you're an amazing friend and they all treat you like family. They're so glad they met someone like you.

You're immediately called to the conference room on that day. Only to find the team arguing and pointing fingers at one another.

You kinda just slot in, sitting on the chair you usually sit on whenever there's a meeting or mission briefing. Glancing around, you try and find out what they're fighting about.

Security. Suits. Brief mention of Ultron. Rhodey busying himself with phones, probably making a lot of calls. Natasha and Clint talking among themselves, only raising their voice whenever they're included in the conversation which mainly consisted of Tony and Steve arguing.

"Suit up, get the jet ready." Steve dismisses but before he could walk out himself you raise your hand.

"Hey, sorry, I just woke up," you say sheepishly but coolly at the same time. "What happened, is everyone supposed to go? Can I read the file?" Because if this is an Avengers-level threat that required everyone, you'd want to know all about it.

His sharp and expression softens slightly when he looks at you. "No file, I'm afraid. Some of the compound's security protocols have been compromised, someone hacked in." He proceeds to tell you how they particularly had interest in Bruce and Tony's lab so the other rooms were untouched.

Apparently, they took blueprints and materials, maybe a handful of Tony's suits.

But if you think about it, those two carelessly letting the security to their lab loose? Highly unlikely...

You push the thought to the back of your mind and nod when Steve tells you to get ready. Stark tech can be dangerous in the wrong hands, after all. Let alone the Iron Man suits.

Fortunately, those things have trackers. Leaving you to wonder again why those idiots don't even try and take them off so they won't tracked?

Sat on the floor of the jet while everyone was strangely quiet but once again you didn't pay any mind, you sharpen a few of your knives. Natasha sat on a stool near you, idly picking her nails. An hour into the flight you furrow your brows and look around.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yes," Tony states quickly and a matter-of-factly. They all share glances before he continued. "It's the tension. Sorry. My fault."

"It's not your fault, Tony," Bruce starts.

"I'm sorry, to whom were those stolen suits again?" Steve speaks up as well and you could tell it's gonna be a full blown argument again.

"Now hold on just a second-" Tony faces the super soldier to counter.

You merely blink, not expecting a simple question to turn out like this. Clint just glances from the pilot's seat and Natasha almost cracks a smile by the look of your face. If only you knew it was all fake, all planned. But what does she know? You're a spy too, maybe you've figured out what they're up to and decided to play along.

Sad to say you're still oblivious. Maybe the fact that you only slept three hours last night is one case. You wanted nothing more than your bed right now.

Heck, not one of them wished you a happy birthday but you didn't notice at all.

Tuning out their bickering you sit down next to Natasha who's the only one not in the argument.

"I haven't seen Wanda all day," you say and she turns her head to face you. "Or Sam, or Bucky."

"Probably not back from their mission." Natasha answers promptly.

You frown at that. "Steve made this sound like an Avengers-level threat, and it is, shouldn't they be here?"

You don't wait for a response, opening up a globe-shaped hologram that shows where the jet, represented by a blinking dot. Your eyes slightly widen when you see the target location which is one of the places you've been dying to visit your whole life.

Maybe it's just a coincidence. You definitely didn't expect to visit it for the first time on a mission though.

Natasha clears her throat. "Hey, have you read the book I gave you?" She subtly closes the globe up when she catches your attention.

You shake your head bashfully. "You know I'm a slow reader. Give me two months then I'll come back to you." You laugh. Natasha smiles and tells you to take your time. "Have you read the book I gave you?"

"I loved it."

"I knew you would!" You say excitedly and the next few moments you discuss about the specific book. She's just glad you didn't ask any further questions about the location.

--

All of you split up once you reach the base but Rhodey and Bruce stay in the jet as backup. The place reminded you so much of the old Avengers tower, only with darker themes. You're paired with Clint who you follow to the side of the building, with surprisingly no cautiousness. He just... ran in, entrance deserted of guards.

You all had a digital, tech checklist to see what was stolen including all the suit names. So far you've searched two drawers now and still no sign of any agent or guard. But it's weird since the others are clearly doing their part on their floors. Thuds, footsteps and sometimes banging sounds could be heard all around.

“Finally," you mutter when you hear footsteps behind you, spinning around so suddenly to surprise your enemy and take him down with ease. You raise an eyebrow when they don't put up a fight at all.

Clint was in front of a computer when you peek in to one of the rooms but he waves you off. "I'll meet you on the next floor. This'll take a second."

"One suit on the roof!" you hear Steve grunt through your earpiece.

"Remember to remove the arc reactor, that'll shut them down for sure." Bruce reminds through everyone's comms.

You hear Tony let out a noise. "Might have a problem with that, Banner, they're all reprogrammed."

Expecting the man with seven Ph. D's to worry, it only took him a minute to respond back. "It's your tech. I don't believe they could do that completely especially having them for only twelve hours."

"In that case," Tony sighs. "There should be a kill switch under one of their reactors."

"Which one?" Natasha grunts.

The deafening silence from Tony's line explains it.

You fight your way though the thugs which again, don't put up a fight. Sometimes you throw one punch and they're out cold, leading you to believe the intense training Bucky insisted you do worked. The only tough ones were the Iron Man suits themselves.

Ripping out the arc reactors wasn't easy. You had to use all you force. On the second one you encounter it got the upper hand and blasts you through a wall, the impact sending sharp pain to your head and back.

You hear metal thumping of a suit so you get back up and attempt to get your hands on the Iron Man in front of you.

"Hey, hey. Same team. Look," Tony grips on your wrists and lifts his mask up. "You alright?"

“Yeah," you pant, relaxing a bit. "Yeah. One of them got m-"

"We just discovered a bomb, northwest," Clint says. By ‘we’ he means him and Natasha. The redhead speaks right after. “Two and a half minutes. How many suits left, Friday?”

"Only one more suit is fully functional."

You get out of Tony's hold and sprint up the stairs. "I got it."

He smiles to himself. The plan is all coming  to place.

As soon as you enter the room you dodge a blast from the much bulkier Mark XVI. Of course they'd want to make the stealth suit more powerful. You launch yourself towards it, stomping on an arm while trying to dodge blasts from the the other one.

"Y/N! Fifty seconds!" Steve shouts in your earpiece.

You could've just jumped out, leaving the compromised suits here to be blown up but being under pressure made you panic and set your only goal to find the switch.

The suit could still set off a blast from the arc reactor so you couldn't really get your hands on it without losing a freaking arm.

"Get out of there!”

But you didn’t have enough time. So you just curl into a ball against the wall, accepting your fate.

A pop did go off. Loud, but you didn't feel yourself torn into pieces right after. You also heard a bunch of aye’s and oh’s. Redwing whirs by to your head to drop off a birthday hat.

"Happy Birthday!”

Your eyes fly open. Turns out the only thing inside Mark XVI was confetti. Natasha walks over to you to inspect and make sure you're alright.

"What the hell?" Your eyes widen at her, then at everyone. Sam and Bucky were now standing with them, smiling at you amused.

"I think she's in shock.”

“You think?”

Steve glares at Tony with a hint of amusement. "I told you it would be too much."

"Trust me she prefers something like this instead of a big party. Don't you, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?" You take off the hat and clutch it between your hands, appreciating Natasha rubbing your back as you try to collect yourself. "How is none of this real?"

"We basically faked a mission for you." Rhodey says.

You look around all the rubble. "This building, the people, suits-"

"Bought the place," Tony states. "Hired stuntmen, did a few tweaks on the suits...”

"God, why would you do that?" You bury your face in your hands, not knowing if you should be laughing or crying. "I punched those guys!"

"They'll be fine, they signed up for it."

You gently get up and brush off some confetti off your knees.

"But back at the compound... you guys were yelling at each other and during the whole thing you all sounded serious," you point out. "Was that all part of the act?"

Especially when that 'bomb' was about to go off. Steve's panicked voice made you scared for your life, only to know that it was all fake.

They all show signs of agreement, laughing.

"We'd make such great actors." Natasha smirks.

"Alright, the cake isn't going to blow itself." Clint walks up to you with said cake and you meet him halfway.

Everyone gathers around and before they could inhale to sing the stupid song, you cut them off. "You all know I hate to be sung at. Can we just get this over with?"

They all burst out laughing, you giggle in the process, blowing out your candle. You all group hug right after. The laughter makes you miss the sound of faint thunder outside.

"Look who's late." Bruce points out.

"Yes, I got here as soon as I can, my apologies." Thor smiles sheepishly.

Your ears perk up at the all too familiar voice of the god of thunder. Moving everyone of the way, you leap to hug him. "Thor!"

"Happy birthday, dearest Y/N." He grins and pats you on the head. "I'm afraid my - I mean - our gift, is with Loki at the moment."

"Enough with the formality, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Peter rings up Tony to tell him everything's set up at the huge building they rented for your low-key party. Just the Avengers. Peter, Vision and Wanda were in charge of setting things up over there, from decorations and food. Sam and Bucky also helped a bit before they arrived at the fake base.

So you all get into the jet again, this time you look at the windows in awe to see what the city's like. You also asked a bunch of questions on how they pulled something stupid but unique fake mission like that.

Once you've reached your destination, the place was simple yet big enough to fit everyone. Tony really took notes for this year. You didn't like anything too fancy or elegant, and you didn't like huge-ass parties with hundreds of people you've never met before.

Here you're with your family eating, drinking booze and playing games, generally having a good time.

You give the other five Avengers big hugs. Vision's never usually a hugger but for you he made an exception just for today. Everyone was surprised when he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

"Hugging has a lot of good benefits," Vision says when he lets you go. "Astounding, I know. It is recommended eight times a day, hopefully you've already gotten that much."

You giggle at his remark and Wanda rolls her eyes playfully. “Thank you, Vision.”

“Splendid, that means I don’t have to give you one.”

You turn around to see the god of mischief himself carefully hand you a wrapped box. Loki chuckles when you smile at him. “Happiest Birthday.”

“Loki.... you know you and Thor didn’t have to-”

“Thor? That one’s from me. I assure you.”

“Y/N!” You hear Tony call from the other side of the room. “It’s time for presents, little miss. Good lord this looks like Christmas morning.”

-

unfortunatley i am that extra to post a birthday fic woo hoo

[mermaidsirennikita]

What's a recommendation where the heroine is perfectly happy with having an affair but not marriage?

Yes--I will say that almost every historical romance ends with marriage at some point, so a lot of these start out with the woman wanting to stay unmarried (or at least not married to the hero) before marrying the hero. Just as a heads up!

--Her Night with The Duke by Diana Quincy. Widowed heroine, begins with the heroine and hero having a one night stand that gets complicated when his connection to her family becomes clearer (not incest, to be clear).

--To Taste Temptation by Elizabeth Hoyt. The heroine is widowed and is actually engaged to another man and has an affair with an American who is totally inappropriate for her.

--The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt. The heroine sets up an affair with the hero, whom she assumes she won't be able to marry due to their class divide and her apparent infertility (he's an earl, she's his secretary).

--Suddenly You by Lisa Kleypas. The heroine sets up a meeting with. sex worker so that she can lose her virginity, but the guy who comes to the door is actually a publisher (she's a novelist). Affair commences.

--The Leopard Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt. Another interclass book with an upper class heroine who begins an affair with her steward. It gets a lot less casual and more intense towards the end.

--The Bride Goes Rogue by Joanna Shupe. Ironically, the heroine is initially betrothed to the hero, then she finds out he doesn't want to get married and she goes off to have an affair. One masquerade later, aaaaand shit gets complicated.

--The Prince of Broadway by Joanna Shupe. One where they have an affair, don't get married, but stay together and live in sin.

--Brazen and The Beast by Sarah MacLean. The heroine is consigned to a life of purposeful spinsterhood, so she begins a "year of Hattie" that gets complex when she meets the hero.

--When He Was Wicked by Julia Quinn. The best Bridgerton book actually involves a widowed heroine who starts fucking the hero (her dead husband's cousin/best friend) for pleasure. She knows she might get pregnant, but she has fertility issues so she's just sort of testing the waters and is like "I'll only marry him if he knocks me up, and he probably won't be able to do that, sooo". He SUPER wants to wife her up, so he's like "WILL DEFINITELY GET YOU PREGNANT ASAP".

--Twelve Nights as His Mistress by Elisa Braden. This is a super delightful novella I recently read and kinda loved? The heroine is a widow who's been pursued by the hero for tWO YEARS prior to the start of the book (he also met her a year before her husband died and they basically instantly wanted to jump each other but abstained because, like, God and shit). So when the book starts they're in love, he's like bitch let's make this shit official, I have subsisted on fingerbanging you for two years, and she resists because she's infertile and she wants him to have babies and yada yada yada. Plus his mom opposes the match. He proposes an affair and she acquiesces, but both of them have the opposite goals--he's determine to fucked her into agreeing to marry him, and she's determined to just get it out of their systems so she can marry a boring guy and he can marry a young fertile thang. It's hot.

--Lady Derring Takes A Lover by Julie Anne Long. Widowed heroine, begins an affair with a guy who's actually trying to spy on her. Her friend also has an affair without expectation of marriage in the next book in the series.

There are other variations... A lot of sex lessons books have this vibe. But these are the most straightforward, imo.

[kurowrites]

May i ask for WangXian? With nos;

1 (roomates rite?) with 6 (fake dating i think?)

And 5 (something about emotional capacity of a brick? Strangely enough i wish that LWJ would be the one to say this to WWX..if possible 🥺🥺)

I also sorta hope this evolves in to a FWB situation but just the thought of fluff n hilarity from this prompt is already making me squeal n cackle 🤣🤣🤣

Please n thank you 🥰🥰🥰

Have some dumb weekend fluff.

---

When Wei Ying arrived at home, he had a very precise plan how he wanted the rest of the evening to go. He was feeling an exhaustion that barely left him standing, and all he wished for was to eat (though that one was optional, honestly), get fucked into his mattress (though he would probably have to do with a quick wank), and then sleep for the next twelve hours.

Not more, not less.

As they are wont to do, things didn’t turn out quite as he had imagined them on his tedious way home. When he finally walked through the door of the apartment that he and Lan Zhan shared, his first target was the kitchen, where he hoped he would be able to stealthily unearth something from the freezer that could be warmed up in the oven.

When he entered the kitchen, however, he found Lan Zhan at the stove, stirring a pot of food that smelled heavenly. Lan Zhan turned around when he heard the door open, and he gave Wei Ying a critical once-over before he announced: “Take a shower, the food will be ready soon.”

Well, Wei Ying thought, turning around and heading towards the bathroom almost as if he was guided by some higher power. It was rather hard to argue with that.

He had no idea why Lan Zhan was awake this late at night, and why he was cooking dinner, of all things. But Wei Ying was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not when he was this tired. If a shower was the most direct path to food prepared by Lan Zhan, then he would do that without a single complaint.

The shower helped slightly with his exhaustion and general sense of discomfort, and when he finally left the bathroom, he felt slightly more conscious and decidedly more human than before. And when he stepped back into the kitchen, a steaming, hearty bowl of curry was waiting for him at the table, looking perfect and delicious and like everything that Wei Ying had not dared to hope for tonight.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying moaned, making a beeline towards the table, stuffing the food into his mouth almost before he had even taken a seat. “You are the best. The bestest. A god among mortals.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with that statement. “Eat.”

That, Wei Ying did without needing to be told twice. Lan Zhan had made the curry exactly the way Wei Ying liked it, rich in flavour and very spicy, and it was just so good. Getting to eat Lan Zhan’s cooking, full stop, was already a boon. And Lan Zhan had made this curry just for him, had waited until after his bedtime to feed Wei Ying. He truly was the bestest roommate that ever lived.

Wei Ying eagerly devoured his bowl, and Lan Zhan even gave him seconds.

So good! So delicious!

After he had finished his curry, Wei Ying still felt exhausted, but now he had a warm belly full of delicious food, and a warm flicker in his chest that was the knowledge that his roommate cared enough about him to make food when Wei Ying was down on his last leg. Things were looking a little brighter now.

And Lan Zhan was still in the kitchen, putting away the last of the cookware that he had washed while Wei Ying was eating.

Wei Ying looked at him, and considered. After he had already received the deluxe version of the first item on his to-do list tonight, he decided that maybe his luck was just good enough to get the second item on the list checked off, too.

He got up and put his dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and then he waited until Lan Zhan had put away the last pan. Once Lan Zhan’s hands were free, he smoothly slipped in between Lan Zhan and the kitchen counter, and wrapped his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, a sneaky smile playing on his lips. “You are still awake.”

“Indeed,” Lan Zhan calmly observed.

“Mh, I missed you, oh roommate mine,” Wei Ying sighed, a little dramatically. “I feel like I haven’t seen you forever. And now that you’re here…”

He leaned in, gently rubbing his nose against the soft skin of Lan Zhan’s neck.

He felt the tiniest of shudders in response, and then Lan Zhan’s arms wrapped around his waist.

Jackpot.

It wasn’t always easy, figuring out when Lan Zhan was in the mood. They were roommates after all, and generally they just lived together. But sometimes, even the rigid Lan Zhan needed to let off a little steam, and when he was in the right mood, he was perfectly fine with fucking Wei Ying into various surfaces around their apartment. Wei Ying obviously had no objections to that; not only was Lan Zhan really hot, he was also really good at sex.

Maybe it was sad to say that his entire sex life consisted of occasionally seducing his roommate, but it was good. Really good. And Lan Zhan seemed to feel the same, because Wei Ying was pretty sure that Lan Zhan wasn’t having any kind of ‘relations’ with anyone else.

So yes, they had done this many times before, and by now, Wei Ying had become pretty skilled at reading when Lan Zhan was open to seduction. Still, the moment before he could be sure that Lan Zhan was willing to respond was always a nerve-wracking one. Luckily today, Lan Zhan’s hands on his waist spoke a clear language.

He grinned up at Lan Zhan and said cheekily, “I’ve been wanting to get fucked into my mattress very, very thoroughly all day. Honestly, I think all that’s between me and twelve hours of sleep is one good orgasm.”

Lan Zhan didn’t reply, but his hands squeezed Wei Ying’s waist once in response to Wei Ying’s words.

Wei Ying moaned in return, leaning up to press soft kisses against Lan Zhan’s lips.

“You can do with me whatever you want,” he promised. “I’m all yours.”

His clumsy attempt at seduction was apparently deemed sufficient, because Lan Zhan started herding Wei Ying towards his bedroom.

Being in Lan Zhan’s care was always amazing, because Lan Zhan never failed to really take care of everything, especially in moments like these. He silently guided Wei Ying to his bed, stripped him out of his clothing (folding and putting everything away properly, which shouldn’t be hot but was, anyway), then readied lube and condoms, and before long, he was arranging Wei Ying on the bed with almost adorable intent and focus.

Wei Ying let it all happen; he felt too lazy to move on his own volition and was perfectly willing to let Lan Zhan take the wheel after he had signalled his willingness. Lan Zhan moved his limbs around, lifted his hips, and suddenly, Wei Ying found himself in a position where he was more or less pinned on the bed, open for Lan Zhan but not really able to move otherwise.

It was perfect. This was exactly what he had fantasised about. When Lan Zhan worked him open and slowly pushed into him, he was unable to do anything but moan and take what Lan Zhan was giving him. It was incredible, getting slowly fucked into the mattress by Lan Zhan. As he was wont to do, he tortured Wei Ying, letting his orgasm build slowly as he thoroughly worked Wei Ying’s body with precise movements. He had never really told Lan Zhan as much, feeling that such a confession end up on the wrong side of revealing, but he felt safe in Lan Zhan’s hands, and only this let something inside him unfurl slowly, something that had been tense and stressed out all day.

It wasn’t necessarily the physical act in itself that made Wei Ying want to sleep with Lan Zhan occasionally, but this feeling of safety, of being taken care of that Lan Zhan seemed to naturally inspire. He sometimes got horny for that feeling alone.

When he finally came, it was with an almost hazy, sluggish kind of intensity, one that made his eyes close and sleep pull at his consciousness almost before he knew it.

He felt a gentle hand on is back, and a whispered ‘Sleep,’ and then he was gone.

---

When Wei Ying woke up the next morning, finally feeling halfway rested again, Lan Zhan was obviously long gone. He always woke so much earlier than Wei Ying, and had probably finished half of his planned tasks for the day already. It was enough to make one feel bad about one’s own achievements, if Wei Ying didn’t have absolutely no hope of every reaching Lan Zhan’s levels of competence.

Wei Ying stretched lazily and wandered into the kitchen to look of food. His plans today mostly consisted of eating and lazing around; the first day in a long while that he would be able to enjoy without having to stress about work, and he intended to enjoy it by doing absolutely nothing.

In the kitchen, he found breakfast prepared for him already – Lan Zhan really was too good to him! Grateful, Wei Ying sat down and dug in with enthusiasm.

Once he was finished, he considered for one moment that he should probably go to the bathroom and try to make himself at least somewhat presentable, but he really wasn’t feeling it. His primary goal today was to vegetate. He didn’t need to look actually human to do that. Instead of going to the bathroom, therefore, he went in search of Lan Zhan. It didn’t take long; he found him in the living room, reading a book on the sofa.

Without ceremony, Wei Ying flopped onto the sofa next to Lan Zhan, leaning his weight onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Lan Zhan, Wei Ying couldn’t help but notice, looked and smelled as good as he always did, while Wei Ying was still a disaster zone. It was truly enviable. Not that Wei Ying felt he had enough energy to put effort into it, right now.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, rubbing his face against Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “What would I do without a roommate like you? You are the best. Roommate of the year. Maybe of the century. The breakfast wasn’t needed, but appreciated anyway.”

He had expected one of Lan Zhan’s customary little “Hn”s, ignoring Wei Ying in favour of keeping his eyes on the book he was reading. Instead, he felt Lan Zhan’s posture grow stiff, right before Wei Ying was gently pushed off of Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan heaved a heavy sigh that Wei Ying didn’t know how to interpret.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said with a certain sense of gravity in his voice, not quite looking at Wei Ying. “I hate to agree with your brother on anything, but I think he was not entirely wrong when he told you that you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

Wei Ying jerked back a little. He wouldn’t want to admit it, but the words hurt.

He knew that he wasn’t always the most sensitive person on the planet, but for Lan Zhan to use words like that… He racked his brain, trying to think of what he had done to make Lan Zhan this upset.

Lan Zhan had cooked for him yesterday without Wei Ying asking him to do it, and Wei Ying had said thank you. Wei Ying had asked for sex, but he’d checked in with Lan Zhan first to make sure he was okay with it. And the rest of the time, he’d been unconscious.

Was Lan Zhan upset that he hadn’t really done his share of housework lately, since he’d been so busy with his job?

“Lan Zhan, I –” he laughed nervously, pushing his hands through his hair. “You’re probably right about that, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lan Zhan sent him a look, which was somewhat less angry than Wei Ying had expected it to be (what a relief, Lan Zhan wasn’t actually angry at him), and then he sighed.

“Wei Ying,” he said, and suddenly he sounded a little sad. “You keep calling me roommate.”

“That’s… what you are?” Wei Ying asked, confused.

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say, because Lan Zhan’s expression soured.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaimed, keeping himself from latching onto Lan Zhan at the last moment. He doubted Lan Zhan wanted Wei Ying to touch him again right now. “Is that wrong?”

Lan Zhan huffed once.

“No, I guess it is not,” he pressed out. “I had simply hoped I would at least merit a ‘friend’ by now.”

Wei Ying gaped at Lan Zhan. Sat and stared at him in disbelief, watching as Lan Zhan’s ears slowly turned a brilliant pink.

“Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed, and then he couldn’t go on, because he was choked with too many feelings.

Lan Zhan, that Lan Zhan, considered him a friend?

A friend??

“Wait,” Wei Ying suddenly realised. “At least a friend?”

Lan Zhan sent him the flattest look he had ever seen. It was genuinely impressive.

“We’re fucking, Wei Ying,” he said, in a tone of voice equally as flat.

There was a beat of silence, a pronouncing ringing that went through the living room, freezing the air in between them for a moment.

And then Wei Ying tipped his head up and burst into laughter, loud and unrestrained. How could he not? Lan Zhan was funny, and Wei Ying was so relieved, and so happy, and…

“I thought you were barely tolerating me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed as he back flopped against the sofa, the sudden storm of emotions ravaging his already exhausted body and dragging him back down as he took a deep breath. “I never thought you would ever –”

He bit on his lips and looked up at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who always took such good care of him.

Lan Zhan, who–

“I love you, Lan Zhan.”

The words left his lips almost against his will.

How could he not say that, when Lan Zhan looked at him with soft, molten eyes, the trace of a blush still staining his cheeks a pretty pink?

He loved this man.

“I really love you, Lan Zhan,” he couldn’t help but repeat. “So, you see, maybe slightly more emotional capacity than a brick. Though I wouldn’t–”

Lan Zhan, judging from the way he lifted Wei Ying into his lap, pressed their hot faces together, and peppered Wei Ying’s lips and cheeks with little kisses, apparently felt the same.  

Definitely more than the emotional capacity of a brick.

[kyeomunism]

Journal of the Bruised || Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Marauders Era

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: In which Sirius gets fascinated by the spitfire witch after reading her hopes and goals in a research journal.

Warnings: slight wounds, swearing, anxious thoughts, mentions of toxic parents, suggestive flirting, making out, me abusing my prompts I'm supposed to use for twelve different fanfics... (i think that's it, please tell me if I missed something.)

y/h/c=your hair color

y/l/n=your last name

y/n=your name (or just yeen:))

︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・༺❀༻・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ︵‿︵‿︵

You carefully step over some gigantic vines as you stroll around the forbidden forest. With a journal on your hand, wand in your pocket, and the bright moonlight over your head, you crouch down to get a closer look at some thorny branches and see a gleaming strand of unicorn hair entangling within it. You carefully save it in your pocket for your potions ingredients collection.

You stand up to get back to the castle without anyone noticing because getting detention would be a blow. You increase your pace, a hoard of centaurs being the least of your woes, considering the distant howls you've been hearing.

Your fear of getting in trouble at Hogwarts is just a result of your parent's high expectations, but you'll risk it for the sake of adding something to your journal. You love going to the woods at night just to pick a rare plant, animal hair, or at lucky nights, beast eggs. The moon is so bright you don't need to pull your wand out to illuminate the path.

Within a heartbeat, a loud thundering howl followed by ground-quaking steps electrify your spine. Instinct tells you to run immediately but the feel of something else's presence just several meters away glues your feet to the ground. You slowly reach for your wand as you turn. There's nothing there, but it feels like you're being watched.

A small rat came running near your direction as you inhale deeply, backing up towards the shadows just in case. A huge stag suddenly appears from where the rat came from, followed by an enthusiastic bear...no wait, you squint hard and could make up a large dog. The howling returns but this time, it's louder and scarier. Shivers overwhelm you as a full size werewolf came out of the shadows. Your free hand fly towards your mouth to stifle your terrified gasp.

You move away but not carefully enough, swearing all of them looked at your direction. The next second, you're running for your life, not daring to look back. All you know is that not only the werewolf is coming your way, but also the stag and the dog, and you don't care why. Nothing else matters as you make efforts not to scream nor show your face. It becomes harder for you through the thorny vines, wincing as the branches sting you.

Nobody can know you've been breaking the rules, not if it means getting many wounds or getting devoured alive. Nobody can know, or else your parents may force you to quit your hobbies and start preparing for work at the ministry. Oh you'd rather be dead than live without your passion.

The fear and panic about your future drives you out of the forest, not realizing until you find yourself catching breaths and applying pressure on wounds. You sit on the ground, listening to the distant howling that nearly became the last thing you heard. You check your pockets, your wand and the unicorn hair is still there.

"Damnit! Where's my journal?" You whisper-shout, bitter expression from your stinging wounds and the years long research now gone. Having the urge to lay there and cry until morning, you have no choice but to sneak back in the castle.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

"Who do you think that bloke was, Prongs?" Sirius asks as they sit beside Remus's hospital wing bed. "Doesn't matter now, does it? Whoever they are, they shouldn't have been idiotic enough to take a walk in the forest during a full moon," James says rather loudly.

"How 'bout you, Moons, who do you bet was it?" Peter pipes up.

"Doesn't matter, I could've killed them, worse, I could've bitten them," Remus says weakly.

Sirius brushes it off with a whole new full-proof plan for the next full moon. Something that Remus doesn't look forward to, but somehow enjoy with his friends' company. The marauders later spends the whole weekday morning in the hospital wing with the food Sirius, James and Peter got from the kitchens. The topics change each moment, until James finds a way to mock Sirius with his failed attempts at flirting with you.

"Just go talk to her!" James says between laughs.

"She doesn't even acknowledge me."

"I don't think so, it was only last quidditch practice when I heard her yell, suck it Black, when you got hit by a bludger." James, Remus and Peter laughs as Sirius's eyes widen.

Before Sirius could retort, "I gotta go prepare for my date with Evans now." James suddenly gets up, hastily messing up his hair and pocketing some sweets as his friends laugh at his ridiculous behavior.

"I'll stay here and finish these," Peter says while munching on some toast.

"I still want to know who's the owner of the journal I found a while ago. You sure you'll be good here, mate?" Sirius asks, to which Remus replies with a nod and goodluck.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

You're trying out spells to hide your puffy eyes from crying throughout dawn, frustratedly healing wounds. You don't want to miss breakfast to avoid suspicion, but it's hard to act normal. You finally look decent enough to your liking, but the potion made from the ingredients in your trunk did not do well on a gash on the back of your right hand, leaving a bruise. You decide to hide it in your Hogwarts robes and eat breakfast quickly.

After breakfast, you find yourself staring at the raven haired boy at the end of the hallway. Not that you expect him to care or notice you, but an inch of hope is still there. His usual unkempt hair that touches his face with such grace is just one of the many things you find attractive about him, but there was something different this time. He was holding a book, a very unusual thing to see since it's weekend.

You gasp as you walk closer in his direction, it's your journal. The thing you poured hardwork on, contains researches, discoveries and a list of dreams that had been ridiculed by your own parents. It was an extension of your soul, and it was being held by the Sirius Black.

He noticed you staring. "What's your deal, y/l/n, did you ran out of ridiculous potions to dye your hair y/h/c?"

You snap back from your thoughts. "Just a near-death experience, Black. And for the record, my hair is naturally y/h/c."

You turn around with a pounding heart. How did he find the journal? Did he read the contents? Was it that embarrassing?

Sirius watched you walk away. What does she mean by near death experience?

He looks at the journal, scans it for the second time since he found it this dawn. It's well-written and perfectly organized. He could swear he had seen the handwriting before, and the initials scribbled at the first page. Sirius decides to follow you to see if his guess is right.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

You sit on a part of the Hogwarts grounds away from other students, having trouble figuring out how did Sirius got your journal.

"You could've just told me this was yours."

You almost got a whiplash with Sirius's voice appearing out of nowhere. You just stared at him, examining his sharp features under the sun.

"What do you want?"

"Do you want this back?" he says, lightly waving the journal in front of you.

With a sigh, you spoke softly, "yeah. Can I have it now?"

"No."

"What?" You ask in disbelief, standing up to look at his silvery eyes.

"No, you have to reach it."

You want to whip out your wand and Accio the journal but Sirius's grin made you reach out as he waves it high above your head.

"What's wrong with your hand?" You freeze and hastily adjust your sleeves to cover it.

"You know what, I'm going back to the castle," you say half-heartedly.

"Who did this to you? I'll hex them."

"A tree branch. I would very much enjoy watching you hex it. You'll look more stupid than you already are."

"As much as I love the idea, let me see your hand first. Sirius's gentle voice almost melted you while reluctantly showing the bruise on the back of your hand. Sirius holds it, muttering an incantation under his breath. The bruise disappears in an instant.

You fill up with sudden gratitude and mixed emotions.

"I owe y—"

"No you don't. I'm doing this because I want to, deal with it. Now, tell me where you hurt yourself. Then I'll let you have your journal back."

"Why do you care anyways? I told you, I got hurt from a tree branch."

"That bruise is a cause of a potion applied on a deep gash lacking the proper incantation. What were you doing in the forbidden forest?"

"Speaking from experiences, are we, Black?" You say, highly amused. "I was just wandering around and dropped it. Are you done?"

"No, I know the easiest kind of lying is when you leave things out of a story. You could've been bitten or got killed. You're lucky Prongs and I saw you first."

You almost choked. "Excuse me? I don't know what you're talking abou—"

"I was there, me and my friends. It's a long story, y/n, so could you start first?" Your cheeks heat up at the sound of Sirius saying your first name.

"I don't think you'll understand, I'm my parent's disappointment, I'm the opposite of what they want me to be. Instead of doing my purpose, I'm out here wasting my time, trying to cope using the dumbest ways possible." You start venting out as you sit on the grass beside him.

"Believe me, I know exactly what that feels like, love." They both mentally freeze as the words slip though his mouth.

"I go through the forest just to write about the things I find there. Something I couldn't get from sitting in the library. That journal contains my hard work."

"I can tell. It's impressive and elaborate."

"Uhm, thanks. Y-you wouldn't tell anyone I was in the forest, would you?" You say hesitantly.

"If I'd tell the professors about your midnight strolls, I might as well be turning the marauders in for expulsion."

"Marauders?"

"It's my turn to explain," Sirius utters with a sigh.

You watch the handsome boy talk about his friends; how they had to transform into Animagi for the sake of keeping their friend's company—which greatly impressed you—and their mischievous whereabouts. You've never heard Sirius speak this gentle.

There so many things you wanted to say, but can't form words. "Sirius..."

His eyes meet yours for the first time you mentioned his name, and it's in a tone that he wouldn't trade for the world.

"...can I visit Remus?" you continue.

He smiles at you—a genuine smile that made your heart leap—and takes you back to the castle without a word. He gives the journal to you on the way.

Your steps are slow and steady, as if the air has never been more comfortable. You finally got to the hospital wing, and see Remus lying in bed, reading a book next to a pile of sweets his friends placed there. He looks at the two of you with a questioning stare.

"Remus, I... I was the person who saw you in the forest. Sirius told me about..."

"I'm sorry."

You felt taken aback with Remus's response.

"No, I should be sorry, I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have been sneaking around late at night."

"That's actually a difficult habit to stop, y/n. Not that I tried," Sirius pipes up, earning chuckles from you and Remus.

You eventually become good friends with the marauders. Remus is glad you become friends because of his condition, and not inspite of it. Sirius would always ask about your day, which earns a lot of teases from James. You would still walk through the forbidden forest sometimes, but Sirius is always there to accompany you.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

Your NEWTs were coming near and Remus studied with you in the Gryffindor common room. It was late at night and completely silent, except for your small discussions about some topics. Several minutes pass and you find yourself talking about your feelings for Sirius, to which Remus never fail to respond with the best advices.

"Sometimes I wonder if Sirius feels the same..."

"You don't have to wonder," Remus says.

"Why?"

"Because he's right behind you." You almost jump as you hear him speak. "Mind to take a break from studying, y/n?"

You look at Remus, who shrugged with a smile. You get up and take a walk with Sirius. It was a comfortable silence, casually avoiding spots where you know people can see you and get you in detention. Your mind was going places thinking about a possible future with him. You didn't even realize you're in the astronomy tower if it wasn't for the sudden hug if cold air. You watch his eyes sparkle under the stars, standing at the huge overview of the tower.

"You wanna know how I feel about you?" You gulp at the way he broke the silence. You don't think you'll ever be ready to know. Your eyes finally met and it sent your bones to flames.

"I love you, y/n. And I've never felt more sure about anything in the world, fuck that, you are my world." The sincerity in his tone melted your brain, you couldn't string up a word.

"I can't believe we're finally here." Your throat starts to tighten with the struggle of words. "I was so scared to lose you, but I was also scared to say anything."

"Does that mean...?"

"Face first to the point and you still missed it. Of course I love you too, you idiot!"

You laugh as you jump into his arms, he gladly hugs you tight. The warmth and comfort that you felt contrasting to the cold night air felt so right.

"Hogsmeade, this weekend?" He whispers to your ear which sends shivers through your spine.

"Yes, but I don't wanna end up in detention after that."

"That's also a good idea for a first date."

You let go of the hug to look at his face.

"There's a fine line between liking you and wanting to hex you to oblivion."

"And I cross it everytime."

"Oh yes you do."

"You love it though."

"Hmm...yes I do."

With one meaningful look in his face, you press your lips against his. It's soft and gentle, firm and promising. His hand cups your face, thumb caressing your cheek. You wrap your arms around his warm body, feeling his heartbeat under his perfectly chiseled chest. After what seems like a beautiful forever, you pull away. The second you back up, a whistle and cheering made you jump.

"Prongs, Wormtail, what the hell are you doing here?" Sirius called the crackheads by the door.

"We saw you in the map, thought we've come to see the show," James says smugly.

"Want a treacle tart, y/n?" Peter says while holding half a dozen of them.

"No thanks I—"

"Hey, I thought you snuck out to the kitchens to get those for me?" You hear the distant voice of Remus, who clearly made an effort to leave his studies just to get his friends away from trouble.

"Nah Moons, 'tis the best part right here, I wanna know if Sirius messed this up," James continues with such a bright tone.

"Oh sod off, mate!" Sirius laughs as Remus take the two grown children away.

"Where were we?" You coo.

His lips brush yours passionately, like a fiery tease. You barely had a second to react and you already granted his tongue in the seam of your lips. He delved in your mouth, making you breathless. Your arms travels up to tangle around his neck to his luscious black hair. He pulls you even closer and you inhale sharply as his lips form into a smirk. He began peppering your neck with delicate kisses. You can't get enough of it, you let out pleasured tones that feels like godly music to him.

"Please, Siri... I need you."

"Absolutely, love. I will be gentle and make sure you can still walk after."

"I have seen your exes walk, no you won't," you reply. He chuckles between kisses that turned you on even more. The rest of the night will forever be one of the best things you've ever experienced.

༺∘◦ ❀ ◦∘༻

After graduating, you and Sirius joined the Order, fighting with and for each other.

One day, you and Sirius comes home from an Order mission, you have a slight bruise on your hand after falling over once in a duel with a Deatheater.

"What's wrong with your hand?" Sirius asks. Your lips forms a smile at the sudden flashback of his words.

"It's not holding yours," you reply. He lets out a bark of laughter as he checks your hand. His laugh is the nicest thing to watch and listen to.

"Wanna know what's wrong with your hands?" you ask him.

"Hmm?"

"They're not around my neck." Before you even finish the sentence you both are already laughing loudly.

He did fix what's wrong with his hand later that day, which you absolutely love.

You continue writing all your researches on your journal as you participate in the war. It all paid off because of Sirius, despite your parents' disapproval. You're with him and that's all that matters.

You eventually publish several informative books, with Sirius always by your side to support you. You both are proud of the fact that your books became the foundation research for Damocles Belby in creating the wolfsbane potion.

[redbone135]

My 2021 Books for the Year

Reading Goals:

31/25 books  ✅

At least three books in each of ten genres ❌

Key:

*= Reread

Bold = One of my top six books for the year

Strike = A book I HIGHLY recommend not reading… ever

Bookstagram: Read_Reads_135

I love to talk books so feel free to drop me an ask or a message to chat about anything literary!

High Fantasy

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J Maas

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J Maas

Dinosaur Lords by Victor Milan

Dinosaur Knights by Victor Milan

Dinosaur Princess by Victor Milan 

Eye of the World by Robert Jordan 

Classic Literature

Middlemarch by George Eliot

Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald *

The Odyssey by Homer *

The Iliad by Homer 

The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (I’m conflicted here because Purgatorio deserves to be bolded, but Paradiso deserves a strike through it, so my opinion averages out to be pretty neutral)

Young Adult Series Starters (That I only read the first of...)

Hatchet by Gary Paulsen *

Over The Woodward Wall by A Deborah Baker (The only reason I didn’t read the sequel is because it wasn’t out yet - I preordered it and I never preorder books. I can’t wait to read it in 2022)

Uglies by Scott Westerfeld

Mark of the Thief by Jennifer Nielson

Things Not Seen by Andrew Clements *

Graphic Novels

The Boys (Vol. 1 - 12) by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson

Fables (Vol. 1 - 12) by Bill Willingham

Dear Becky by  Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson

Jack of Fables (Vol. 1 - 3) by Bill Willingham

Christmas Romances (Where the guy is raised by a wise older woman who just ‘wants him to be happy’ and he somehow manages to find love in less than a month because ... Christmas... Also the setting is definitely a bed and breakfast of some kind) 

The Christmas Wedding Guest by Susan Mallery

Snowball’s Christmas by Kristen McKanaugh

Twelve Days of Snowball by Kristen McKanaugh

Seaside Holidays by Kim Katil (If all your characters are going to be men... maybe talk to a guy about it first to make sure they come across as believable?)

Urban Fantasy/ Speculative Fiction

Middlegame by Seanan McGuire (Preordered this sequel too... Guess I’m just becoming a bit of a fanboy)

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton 

Jurassic World by Michael Crichton

Horror

For kids:

Welcome to Dead House by R.L. Stein

Ghost Next Door by R.L. Stein

For Adults:

John Dies At The End by David Wong *

Detective Novels

Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith

The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith

Autobiographies of Famous Authors

Smile by Sarah Ruhl 

Guts by Gary Paulsen *

Books of the Bible

Revelations

[alexseanchai]

Fanfic 2020 in Review

I got tagged by @kasienda @noirshitsuji and @marvelousmsmol and I am tagging whoever wants to play!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

*filters own works to complete and updated in 2020*

1 - 20 of 57 Works by AlexSeanchai

nope. *adds filter to include only works of at least 1000 words*

unless otherwise indicated, these are all Miraculous Ladybug:

“don’t bake it lying down”, post-reveal Marichat vs Felix Graham de Vanily

“veracity”, canon divergence from “Ladybug” featuring Mister Bug and Verity Queen (so also Marichat, I guess)

“(no request is too extreme, if) your heart is in your dream”, in which Hawkmoth wins, for the thirty seconds or so before Emilie saves Ladybug and Chat Noir’s lives

“tell me you love me and make me believe it”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire ropes Ladybug into helping plan her civilian self’s escape slash social transition

“kingmaker, oathbreaker”, in which Hawkmoth wins and Emilie watches her son remove himself from the family

“stay and let me watch you break it down” (Twelve Dancing Princesses), a modern setting

“set a course for winds of fortune”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire has already escaped and Gabriel and Nathalie are trying to bring Gabriel’s son home

“we ground love in a hopeless place”, in which post-reveal Marinette’s attempt to remain resolutely not in love with her partner dissolves like sugar in coffee when they start a pun war

“ring the bells that still can ring”, in which Alya is deeply confused about why Adrien and Marinette are planning a wedding when last night both were single

“burning wishes at both ends (the cold wind and long loud wail remix)”, in which Gabriel made a monkey’s paw wish and Emilie makes another

“words cannot espresso”, in which Marinette’s OC roommate is justifiably worried for Marinette’s safety, and meanwhile Adrien takes care of Marinette

“the compromise of truth” (the chronologically second-earliest part posted to date of nine lives, snake’s eyes), in which Adrien tells his friends how he won some freedom and respect from his father

“At The Present Time”, the Ladrien/Ladynoir marriage proposal follow-up to @art-deco-shrimp‘s  “Your Presents Required”

“j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”, in which the events of canon must just have been a series of dream sequences, Marinette and Adrien both think, until they both arrive at Chloe’s Halloween masquerade dressed as themselves from the dreams

2) Number of words written:

ahahaha no. I am not counting all my scattered fic drafts and trying to figure out what I did and didn’t write in 2020. I refuse.

AO3 says I posted 162K in 2020. it is counting all of keeps you guessing (like any real love), which (a) I started posting in 2019 (b) is co-written by @galahadwilder​; it is counting all of my meta snippets collection, much of which was written in 2019; it is counting the Vimeo passwords for my vids. but I probably cleared 150K by a safe margin.

3) Your most popular fic:

“veracity” has a four-digit kudos count, wow, when’d that happen? this is also the 2020 work with the most hits and the most bookmarks, but “tell me you love me” has four-thirds as many comments as its nearest competitor.

4) Your personal fav:

“cannot break us, not with a thousand swords”, no question about it. this is the one in which Ladybug proposes marriage to Chat Noir via Princess Bride meme on Tumblr. (if you intend to download the work or otherwise to consume it with creator style off, you want the accessible version instead of the primary version.)

5) Your fav scene:

aaaaaaaaa

—okay so this is cheating and I know it, since Uncertain Humors (the one where Marinette/Adrien is both Orpheus/Eurydice and Theseus/Ariadne) is nowhere near finished, never mind posted (maybe I'll get “Sanguine” done to post on my birthday?)

but it is still my favorite of the year. as you might guess from that description of the story, this scene has content notes for character death:

Hell is a maze. Marinette walks.

This acrid passage has little to see but damp stone, seeming blood-stained in the dim carmine light. At about the height of her heart, the faintly glowing thread cuts through the not-clammy air; it ought to be pulsing at the same rate as the heart it's bound to. She might be able to see her own reflection if she looked down at the open sewage pipe, or at one of the puddles that now and again she splashes through, dampening the canvas of her shoes. She might see reflected what's behind her.

She remembers Mme. Mendeleiev lecturing on human physiology. In healthy humans old enough to have learned how, urination is a voluntary action: one may not know which muscles one tenses and relaxes in order to do so, and probably isn't paying attention to those details when one is doing, but one has conscious control over whether one does. Usually. Stress and anxiety mean some people are unable to relax the relevant sphincter muscle and others are unable to stop themselves. It's voluntary for cats, too: it's one way they mark their territories. Cat-boys have other ways.

There is a moment in every human life when all one's muscles relax at once. Some Parisians have had several such moments.

The thread is braided with itself around her left fourth finger, rows of tiny red half-hitch knots, and falls loosely over the back of her hand to loop twice around her wrist. She holds it wrapped between the fingers of her right hand to keep it at a constant tension, as though knitting with this insubstantial thread, so fragile for something two (two dozen, two million) lives hang from—too thin to sew with, no thicker than one strand of his hair. As she walks, she winds it around and around and around her wrist.

Between her ring finger and her right hand, it loops twice.

Marinette's shoe lands in a puddle she didn't see. The rainwater splashes soundlessly onto her bare ankle and on the stone.

(With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal— It's a very loud song.)

She walks on.

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

where the firelight fades, no contest. this is the second story I’ve ever been able to stick with more than a couple hundred words past the 20K mark, but it’s easily the twentieth novel-length I’ve begun. (though also, you know that kedreeva post? well, 90K later, I’m less than 15K from completing this 10K fic! I think.) and I have been learning so much about long-form fiction.

there has also been a lot of weeping and tearing my hair. case in point: I just trashed the chapter 15 draft because I figured out the reason it wasn’t going anywhere! I can probably keep the first few hundred words of that draft without any editing, and another few hundred with some revision...

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

from “j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”:

Everything about their partnership is fragments of sentences in the dream diary Adrien writes in ultraviolet pen. Disjointed flickers of thought even when examined under the black light he hides in the snack cabinet under packets of Super Yoyo sandwich cookies and bags of cheesy Monster Munch potato chips and boxes of petit écolier butter cookies (chocolat noir)—none of which explains the gym-socks smell. All fleeting incoherent flashes, invisible between the mundane lines of La Modification shelved at his bedside between Leroux and Dumas. None of it is solid. Adrien has more proof his room's haunted.

okay let me break this down for you!

* Adrien started a dream diary to make sense of the memories

* in invisible ink, in a book that (according to Wikipedia) is thematically appropriate and won’t (if Gabriel sees it) look like anything other than Adrien developing an interest in French literature

* shelved between Phantom of the Opera and The Three Musketeers

* look I didn’t come up with the name “black light”

* or “chocolat noir” for what English speakers call “dark chocolate”, or “petit écolier” (that is, “little schoolboy”) for that sort of butter cookie

* also not my fault that “chocolat noir” sounds remarkably like “Chat Noir”, which, attentive readers may have noticed, is not a name that appears in the story after the header and before Miraculous Cure

* I found the website of a store in Boston, Massachusetts that caters to French expats, and the yo-yo cookies and the monster chips were right there in the photos, y’all

* the snack stash and the black light live in the cabinet where, in canon, the Camembert lives; yes, that cheese smells in the real world like gym socks

* this story’s akuma was not able to affect anything but squishy human memory: nobody affected remembers anything about Ladybug or Chat Noir or Hawkmoth, not in any solid way, not even when they read news articles about the subject, and this includes Marinette and Adrien not being able to see or hear or remember their own kwamis—but you know what Adrien’s Insta post about his poltergeist and Adrien’s Insta post with the floating sock don’t show and don’t explicitly refer to?

* I love this paragraph so much (my housemates may have been lovingly mocking me over it)

8) A comment that touched you:

there are people (y’all know who you are) who said y’all are studying my style. I ded of blush.

9) Something that inspired your writing:

by volume of fic drafts that can be blamed on any particular person, the winner is probably @norakwami​

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

so that longest-story-ever-written record I set in 2007 with the 89.5K story that, till where the firelight fades, was the only story I’d gotten much past 20K?

I broke that fucking record!

and then I deleted the draft of firelight chapter 15 😭

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I’m starting work on a fantasy novel, a Sleeping Beauty retelling in which I explore (among other things) the economic consequences of the king’s ordering all the spinning wheels burned, and I want to make significant progress on that. and I want to not make my hands any worse; I kind of need those!

(breaking news alert: bodies fucking suck. so does giving yourself repetitive stress injuries in doing one and a half to two people’s worth of work for an organization that was never ever going to pay you more than one person’s worth of pay.)

[faireladypenumbra]

A Life Thoroughly Lived: Review of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (Spoilers Ahead)

(Cover, Titan Books UK). I have this distinct memory from when I was twelve: sitting in a McDonald’s after a morning in my homeschool e-learning program, eating french fries and reading the school’s library copy of Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart. This book was groundbreaking for me for a multitude of reasons, but one of its quotes became firmly stuck in my mind. Meggie’s father and secondary protagonist, Mo, reflects on books through this line: “Some books should be tasted, some devoured, but only few should be chewed and digested thoroughly.” This line becomes entangled with my 12-year-old psyche, and I never quite let it go. The idea fascinated me: not only the novel idea of comparing books to nourishment, but the point that some books are not made to be read quickly and once. Some books are chewed and digested thoroughly.

I read that quote in 2005, and even then, at the cusp of the digital tipping point and prior to the smartphone, you could feel the inglorious pressure to consume anything you read if you read for pleasure at all. Conversations with my peers about books were rare, and what bonds I did have about creative writing were made over the internet via fanfiction.net: that wouldn’t change again until Twilight hit it big a few years later. To enjoy a book was to binge it and consume its content only, and so this quote wasn’t entirely understandable until I entered college- and became a writer myself, when I discovered the merit of craft.

This feels like a long way of saying I enjoyed one book, but I cannot stress the rarity of true craft in fantasy fiction. Genre fiction in general has a history of shaving off literary merit and form in favor of YA-style writing and clipped, action-oriented narration. It is what’s popular and there’s nothing wrong with this style of writing, but it is a style of writing made to be devoured. I often hoped to encounter that one modern fantasy novel, made to by chewed and digested slowly.

This brings me to The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.

If you exist on the internet’s writing/reading spaces, you probably know V.E. Schwab, whose prolific career now spans a decade. Her most popular works, including her Villains and Shades of Magic series, tower over the 2010s as important entries to the SFF world, alongside a young generation of female authors— Naomi Novik, Leigh Bardugo, Seanan McGuire, N.K Jemisen, to name a few, who have helped change the definitions of SFF and what it means for women to participate in male-dominated writing spaces.

This is perhaps what makes Addie LaRue so visibly important, because its role as a serious, literary work as well as a groundbreaking fantasy novel, fully cements Schwab’s role as an important author of the 2010s.

The story of Addie LaRue is simple enough: in a small French village in 1714, Adaline LaRue finds herself at odds with her world: her desire to travel, her attraction to the old gods, and her want to experience life are combated by a world that expects her to marry and have children, living and dying in the same plot of land. With an arranged marriage at her heels, Adaline only desires freedom, adventure, and more time in a dwindling, small life. Against the advice of her village’s wise woman, Estele, Adaline prays to any god that will offer her a means of escaping this cruel fate.

Her desperation attracts the wrong god, who agrees to take her soul in exchange for a life without limits. This grants Adaline immortality, neither aging nor dying. But at the cost of her presence: anyone who encounters Adaline LaRue forgets her, the moment she is out of view. Any mark that Adaline leaves is erased, any suggestion of her past life is smeared from existence. The god— or Devil, erases her being in hopes of making her give up her soul. Adaline spends the next 300 years in limbo, forgotten and invisible to the world, until a New York bookseller catches her stealing from his shop and remembers her face.

The story itself oscillates being Addie’s present: New York in 2014, and her past, reaching back to pertinent flashbacks about her life in rural France, out onto the wider world over 300 years of life. Rather than clashing, these two timelines compliment each other, allowing Addie’s past to compliment the unending road that is Addie’s future. And unlike some immortal characters, the weight of the 300 years can be felt in Addie’s character while she wanders the labyrinth of a modern New York.

While heavily populated with 300 years-worth of characters, the novel uses most of its time on Addie, her infernal deal broker, a supernatural being she calls Luc, and Henry Strauss, a bookseller in New York with his own set of secrets and heartbreak. One might argue that the relationships between Henry, Luc, and Addie constitute a love triangle label, but their dynamics are far more complicated given the “magic” and sexual identities involved.

One refreshing element about Addie LaRue is that both main characters, Addie and Henry, are explicitly bisexual in a way that feels humanistic and real. Addie’s view on relationships is complex, simply because she cannot maintain a relationship beyond first encounters. Her liaisons, modern and historical, become a conversation with her personal relationship with eternity. Her relationship with Luc is also complicated, evolving from lustful daydream about the “perfect stranger,” to willful tormenter across her deathless existence, and finally, a troubled companion in a lifetime where only Luc understands Addie’s painful existence.

Henry Strauss comes to Addie’s life as the first human to remember her in over 300 years: their romance is sweet, passionate, but forever marred by the fact that both parties are somehow cursed. Their existence together is fragile, and as presented by the novel, a tenuous moment in a long life. Henry changes Addie’s trajectory, simply because his existence feels so short in the scope of her eternity.

With all that said, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRueisn’t so much a love story about Henry Strauss or Luc, as it is about Addie LaRue understanding herself. It is a love letter to a young woman, forever trapped in her early 20s by a single, impulsive choice. 500 pages (at least, on my edition) and most of book is spent on Addie’s life: the evolution of her moral justifications for theft, prostitution, and overall survival. Her strained views on humanity as her lovers and acquaintances age and die around her.

A particularly interesting, recurring flashback is Addie’s annual trip to her childhood home, Villon-Sur-Sarthe, in which she returns to witness the passage of time in the village. Like Dorian Gray and his portrait, Addie’s home withers and folds into the extended woods before it is bulldozed into modern land, all while she remains the same. Her family is buried, her friends are gone. Addie attempts to leave signs of her ghostly existence in the village by planting a tree, only to discover it struck down in a storm during her final visit. When she blames Luc for the destruction, yet again, her reminds her: “I know I can be cruel, but nature can be crueler.”

Unlike Dorian Gray, this is no polite justice to strike down Addie LaRue, which complicates the morals of the novel. Addie LaRue’s narrator is not interested in moral judgements or rounded poeticism as we observe the long life of this immortal woman, instead exploring Addie’s personal, sexual, and internal changes as a matter of an existence beyond the shackles of normal humanity. The narrative choice of third person, present tense lends itself considerably to this fact, allowing the reader to experience Addie’s life in real time and alongside her present and past selves. One very interesting narrative choice, during flashbacks, is the occasional intrusion of the narrator by way of the word “will.” Moments of tragedy and difficulty will flash through past-Addie’s life, only for the narrator to gesture elsewhere and let us know what impact this choice “will” have on Addie’s life later.

It is a very clever slight of hand, since it keeps the audience moving between past and present without distracting away from the story overall. Rather than tipping its hand too heavily, the narrator offers breadcrumbs to the audience in an overfolding adventure, encouraging us to follow Addie from rural France, out to Paris, Venice, Berlin, over into the Americas, from Chicago to New Orleans. These locations and details would feel massive and glossed over, if not for the narrator’s active participation as a storyteller.

This narration also helps the reader comprehend the scope of Addie’s growth, offering a more mythical perspective on a woman who is human— but not quite. Addie is cursed, yes, but finds strength and power in weaponizing the curse against Luc. She plants herself in the minds of artists, musicians, and writers who find ways to pepper her presence along history, as delicate as the seven freckles that constantly appear in her portrayals. Addie LaRue is forgotten but reaches across history in a deep desire to be remembered and ageless.

The novel’s end, without spoilers, arguably accomplishes this goal. I’m not sure yet if the ending is supposed to be happy or not, which is perhaps why I enjoyed it so much. The book required more thought than the average fantasy piece: it was written with the idea that it should be read slowly and digested thoroughly. Every word, detail, and choice are made with reason, like a cog that helps move a clock’s gears. Nothing is wasted in this novel, both craftsmanship and good storytelling coming together for a truly enrapturing experience. I will try to revisit The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue in the near future, to draw more magic from its well. I hope you’ll consider exploring its pages too, and I have high hopes for the future career of V.E. Schwab.