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ofliterarynature · 6 months

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SEPTEMBER 2023 WRAP UP

[ loved liked ok no thanks (reread) book club* DNF ]

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Magic Below Stairs was a charming middle-grade spin off to the Cecelia & Kate series, I had a good time and would be more than happy to read more books in this world!

The Hanged Man was the second in the Tarot Sequence, and still great! Not perfect, but the characters are so fun and the plots are extremely intense, I loved reading this. The haunted ship was scarier than the actual haunted ship horror book I just read.

Sir Hereward and Mister Fitz…bad. You took this amazing set up and look what you did with it! You made it generic and boring and feeling outdated. Justice for the centuries-old, animated, sentient, sorcerous, gender-fluid puppet who deserved better (to be the main character, to start)

(Veronica Speedwell is of course, fun as always. I have unfortunately now hit the books with longer hold times and am very D: about it)

Scattered Showers was a very heartwarming collection! Perfectly (and maybe, best) suited for fans of the author’s novels. Perhaps a little one-note, but a good read. I love the cover design a lot :D

This is the first time I’ve reread the Shades of Magic books since I finished the series in 2018. I loved them dearly. But my tastes shifted dramatically between then and now… ADSOM is ok. A decently solid fantasy novel, but not one that’s delivering what I want these days. A Gathering of Shadows, however, is a hot mess. I already did some yelling about it but there’s really not a plot, the storyline seems forced, and as asexualbookbird put it, it’s really just Book 3: The Prequel. I don’t know if reading it for the first time would be better? Mostly I was bored and irritated and would have loved to quit.

Somebody help me out, was there hype for Empire of Sand? Because I feel like there was, and I was so let down. The world building was beautiful, but it felt like absolutely nothing happened for the entire middle of the book? And the romantic elements weren’t enough to tempt me, I’d have loved this if it had gone full political intrigue instead.

I’m not a Frankenstein person, but I had a great time with Our Hideous Progeny! I’m a sucker for historical fiction with smart female characters, even if I wanted to strangle a lot of the men, lol. I might have zoned out a bit during the denser paleontological bits, but I look forward to future work by the author.

Klara and the Sun is another one I don’t quite understand the love for, it just wasn’t for me.

My Volcano. YES. IT IS BACK AGAIN. FOR BOOKCLUB AGAIN EVEN. This is such a complicated book that only two of us managed to finish it for book club when we first read it last year. Now that we have some new recruits we decided to try it again (no luck alas). BUT I am still not over it, check out my tag for more yelling. Right now I’m trying to convince the group to *not* do a third read next year and maybe try one of the author’s other books (and the author followed me back on Twitter! I got irrationally excited lol)

I was a bit nervous going into A Pale Light in the Black, having had some flops from the person who rec’d this previously, but it was so fun! ‘Space Coast Guard’ is not a thing that would immediately leap to mind as something I’d be interested in, but this goes *hard* on the found family vibes and spends just as much time on the characters’ emotions as it does on the plot, in addition to being super queer! The plot is a little clunky being split in two different directions with the investigation and the military games, but I still had such a good time (and speaking from the future, book 2 does improve on that!)

When will I learn my lesson about contemporary romance? Regardless of the fact that the plot for Not the Witch You Wed could have been ripped from one of the many many Teen Wolf fics I’ve read and enjoyed, we did *not* get along. Sigh.

I’m not sure what I was expecting from The Anomaly, but I think it was something more? Probably because it was a translation? Idk, I don’t find the “are we just a simulation” discussion particularly compelling (and My Volcano deals with related topics in more interesting ways), and the rest couldn’t hold me. Really wish I’d DNF’d this one, but I pushed though in hope.

The actual DNF’s -

The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy I wanted to like. I enjoy quirky world building, but it felt like a contemporary romance masquerading as a fantasy - accompanied by all those pesky cr tropes that annoy me. Most of the characters were irritating me as well, and I didn’t want to forgive Hart, even if I understand why he was being so awful, so I decided to quit before I worked myself up too far.

The City & The City had a cool concept, but after 25% I still wasn’t interested. I’d maybe try something else from Mieville, but this wasn’t for me.

The Splinter in the Sky is a book that probably looked fantastic as an outline. But when it came to filling it out and connecting the dots, well…it was lacking a lot. Readable, maybe not worth the effort, but I’d give the author another try on a future work.

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yuthoe · 3 years

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Day 30: Partners (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

this is horrible HAHAHAHA it's the second-to-the-last day of MTM and today's prompt is:

Day 30: Sports Setting

and i was going to make like an "i can do anything better than you" plot, but this is the most i can do with the time i had today. was super busy and this deformed baby is what was born. hayyyy idk, i was really looking forward to this prompt bc (1) the premise i made was really fun and (2) it's hyungwon HAHA but apparently my brain juices have run out

ALSO IF Y'ALL ARE WONDERING, the sport they're doing is dancesport aka competitive ballroom, which i also practice hihi i'm so predictable, trying to insert dancesport into every sports related thing lmao. it is 100% a sport and south korea is also a member of the world dancesport federation. it was so hard trying to describe the steps without being overly technical and using the actual names man, brain hurty

PAIRING: Chae Hyungwon x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff. WARNINGS: swearing. WORD COUNT: 1,470.

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“Two—three—cha-cha-cha! Two—three—cha-cha-cha! One more—cha-cha-cha!” your coach chants, clapping in time to the beat as you and Hyungwon spin around the dance floor. You end with your right feet forward and in an open hold, your hands held lightly in his. The music stops and all that’s audible is your labored breathing.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Hyungwon says, letting go of your hands and doubling over to take in deep breaths. You drop your hands to your hips and walk around, trying to slow your heart rate before sitting down to grab water. “How long until the end of the combo?”

Your coach leans on the wall next to the sound system, leisurely scrolling through his phone. “Not long, just a few more steps,” he says. “Ten minute break and we’ll try the rumba. And let’s try to finish it today, shall we? So we can work on your jive on Wednesday.”

You waddle over to your bags and crouch down to grab your water bottle and squirt some much needed liquid in your mouth. You let out a satisfied sigh after swallowing, breathing out slow before standing back up and wiping your sweat with a towel.

Hyungwon does the same, leaning one hand on the mirrored wall as gulps down water. He rests one foot on its heel and turns it this way and that, flexing and pointing his toes to stretch the muscles; the other foot gets the same treatment.

You go up to the mirror, a little ways away from your partner, and lean your weight on both hands to practice your swivels. Left foot steps to the right and as you change weight, bring the right foot in and face to the left side; repeat starting from the right foot; repeat starting from the left foot.

It’s quiet in the studio as you mind you continue your swivels and Hyungwon reviews the choreography on the floor. For the nth time these past two weeks you wonder how you ended up with him as a partner. You still somehow can’t believe that there isn’t another guy available in the club to compete with you for the Lilian’s Cup this season—and you still somehow can’t believe that Hyungwon of all people offered to partner with you.

It’s not like he’s a bad club member—far from it, actually. He shows up for every club meeting, sure sometimes he’s late but he participates the whole time and even asks to stay behind to work on the choreography sometimes when it’s a particularly tricky variation. You just. Never really talk. He hangs out with the couple of friends he has in the club, and you stick to the club officers who you know from some of your classes.

There’s this tiny voice in the back of your head that’s nagging at you to just talk to him. Because in the five training sessions you’ve had this month, not once have you spoken to each other save for the cursory greetings before and after practice. It’s mostly you both talking to your coach and not acknowledging each other.

Which is really bad, given that you’re supposed to be partners and have chemistry, especially for a dance like the fucking rumba.

You sigh, closing out the couple of cucarachas you did to stretch out your hips and slide over to watch Hyungwon.

He’s just starting the second combo you’ve learned for the routine, the natural top. So you slide into the ballroom hold and do three sets of rumba walks forward in time, looking at anything but him, though you can imagine the surprised look on his face.

After the natural top, you slide into an opening out and prepare for the sliding doors step, when you see Hyungwon stop from the corner of your eye.

His arms are outstretched in the proper positions, his left hand still holding your right, but the rest of his body is stuck in an unflattering stance, eyes flitting about and brows furrowing in frustration. “What’s the next step again?”

“Sliding doors,” you say, and step forward. He steps back as you lean your weight on your forward foot and lift your connected hands up and over your head. You step slowly, allowing him to find his footing in the step, and after a moment of fumbling, you watch both of you in the mirror, properly meeting in the middle and splitting with every side step. After the second sliding doors step, you halt, coming to the end of the choreography so far. There’s still a ways to go, seeing as you’ve only been taught around sixteen bars.

Despite the rumba being a slow dance, you’re still somehow breathing heavily. You lament sometimes that the rumba is your favorite dance because the muscle control it requires is insane. The push and pull between slow and sharp movements gets you off kilter at some points, especially if those difficult turns have to be done without support from a partner. Therefore, communication is necessary to build a solid foundation of give-and-take.

Which means you really have to open your mouth and talk to Hyungwon sometime soon if you want to do well for the Lilian’s Cup.

You pivot to face him, the canvas soles of your heels helping your sharp turn. “Do you need help with the choreo?”

Hyungwon had been staring at the ceiling, no doubt running through the routine in his head once again, but looked down at you when you spoke. He shrugs, bites his lips and says, “Yeah.” He sighs, resting his hands lightly on his hips as he leans on one foot, the other tapping the floor in agitation. “I have a tough time memorizing choreo unless I make it, so…”

You blink. “You make routines?”

Another shrug, and he holds up a hand with the palm down and tilts it from side to side. “Eeehh, sometimes. I’m still learning, and it’s full of basic steps. Definitely not competition caliber yet, not even bronze.”

You purse your lips, nodding. “Still, though, that’s pretty impressive. I’ve been dancing for a while and I can’t create choreo yet.”

“Well,” Hyungwon says, bending his lanky body backwards to open up his chest. “The first step is always the most challenging, I’d say. Once you actually try, it’s easier to take the next steps.” He intertwines his fingers and raises them above his head, groaning from the strain.

You smile at that, and decide that maybe Hyungwon is a better conversation partner than you initially thought. “How about we set like, a day in the week to practice. Just us, you know. I can help you memorize the routines for Lilian’s and you can teach me the stuff you make.” You clear your throat, gaze stuck on your feet, pointing and flexing and looking for something to do. “You know. If you’re cool with it.”

Hyungwon hums. “Yeah, sure.” You look up to see him looking into space, finger tapping on his chin as he thinks. “Can we meet up in the afternoon, though? ‘M not much of an early riser.”

You chuckle. “‘Course. I hate mornings, too.” You wipe your sweaty forehead with your towel and let it hang over your head like a veil as you jog to your bag. You come back to Hyungwon’s side a moment later, holding your phone out. “I also just realized that I don’t have your number yet. It’ll make setting up a date way easier.”

“Mm, you’re right about that,” he says, slender fingers taking your phone and tapping on the screen before handing it back to you. His contact is saved as Dance Partner Hyungwon. “Just a warning tho, I might not reply sometimes because I forget to.”

You tap your phone against your palm and shrug. “S’all right. I’ll just ask one of your friends to pester you then, like Minhyuk. I know he’s pretty… persistent.”

Hyungwon scoffs, but he has a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, that’d do the trick. I’ve known him for years, he won’t shut up unless I humor him.”

You’re about to reply when two loud claps echo through the room. “Okay, you two, break’s over,” your coach calls. “Starting positions please, and let’s finish up this routine today so we can just keep polishing.”

After dumping your towel and phone on your bag and sliding your hand into Hyungwon’s as you get into position, you whisper to him. “I’ll text you later about that after-practice practice.” As the sultry music starts, you have a thought. “And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know me when I finally message you, Chae Hyungwon.”

He bites his lips and looks over your shoulder, fighting a laugh. “Fine, fine,” he says, and composes himself, just in time for your cue to take the first step.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon scenario #monsta x hyungwon imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #hyungwon scenario #hyungwon imagine #fic: mine #fic: hyungwon #fic: not spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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echoes-of-realities · 5 years

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#34 for flover verse?

Notes: GOD I reread this entire verse so I knew what was going on and the first chapters are So Old lmao. I’m probably going to finish this verse up soon because there’s a Large difference between my writing now and the writing from the beginning of this verse lol

[Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve]

34. “You broke what?!?” // “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

With the official reopening of the flower shop and their one year anniversary behind them, Brittany officially goes back to full duty after weeks of physiotherapy. Aside from a small ache in her shoulder if she raises it above her head for too long and a small scar along her temple, there’s no evidence left of her attack. Mike is grateful to have her back as a fully functioning partner instead of having to be partnered to Jake Puckerman in the field; there’s nothing wrong with him, in fact he’s a pretty good detective despite the fact that he’s still pretty green, but Brittany and Mike have been partners since the academy and it’s more than a little weird to be partnered with someone else.

Of course it’s just their luck that they end up on a foot-chase during after knocking on their suspect’s door, and Brittany kind of wishes she had spent the last week going to the gym and working on her stamina there instead of spending the last week working on her stamina with Santana; but it’s only the briefest of thoughts because her lungs are burning and her legs are aching, she wouldn’t trade spending time with Santana for anything in the world.

It all kind of happens in a blur, but one minute she’s rounding the corner of an alleyway after Mike, shouting at their suspect to stop fleeing, and the next she’s tripping over her partner sprawled on the ground. She lands heavily on her hands and knees and skids along the cement until her head collides with the edge of a dumpster, stumbling up as Mike urges her to keep chasing the suspect from where he’s groaning on the ground. The alley is thankfully a dead end, and despite how her head spins she manages to corner the suspect and slap a pair of cuffs on him. She drags him towards the mouth of the alley to check on Mike, her stomach churning when she realizes his left arm is pointing in decidedly the wrong direction. She quickly calls dispatch for an ambulance and a squad car, both of whom arrive at almost the same time, making sure the uniforms that arrive take care of their suspect before she convinces the paramedics to let her ride to the hospital with them.

After almost an hour, Brittany finally ends up in a room just down the hallway from Mike. Her phone is still in the car her and Mike took, but she’s hoping that someone will lend her theirs so she can call Santana; her shift isn’t technically over so Santana’s not missing her yet, but she needs to let her girlfriend know what happened. She sighs as she waits for a nurse or doctor to show up, holding an ice pack to her head and prodding at the scrapes on her knees. She’s so lost in inspecting her torn skin that she doesn’t even hear the curtain open until the nurse is speaking.

“Detective Pierce,” she greets fondly, “It’s been a while since I’ve had to stitch you up.”

Brittany brightens and smiles at Pauline; she’s been stitching Brittany up since she was in the academy, and she’s always reminded Brittany a little bit of her mother, with her wild blonde hair and impish smile.

“I heard about your shoulder,” Pauline tuts as she reviews Brittany’s chart. “And I see that despite the fact that you just got back to work today, you’re already at it again.”

Brittany just grins widely and shrugs innocently.

Pauline shakes her head with a small smile and sets the chart down on the counter before reaching for Brittany’s injured arm and hand. It’s covered in cuts and gravel that will need a couple stitches, the knees of her pants are ripped and torn and reveal road rash, and she’s definitely got a minor concussion from sliding headfirst into that dumpster, but other than that Brittany is actually in pretty good shape.

“I heard you went and got all shacked up,” Pauline says conversationally, trying to distract Brittany from the pain exploding in her arm as Pauline gently prods at the long cut there.

Brittany grunts a little, breathing deeply through her teeth. “Yeah,” she manages, and as much as she would love to gush about how amazing her girlfriend is and how much she’s hopelessly-head-over-heels in love—especially to the woman who’s been teasing her about her lack of love life for years—she can’t really form any coherent thoughts beyond ow right now.

“We’ll have to stitch your hand up, but other than that it’s nothing that some water and bandages won’t fix,” Pauline decides as she straightens up. “The doctor should be in after he’s done setting Mike’s arm and we’ll get you some pain meds before I pull out my sewing kit.”

Brittany winces and turns her usually effective pout on Pauline. “Do I really need drugs?”

“If you don’t want to feel the needle, yeah, a little,” Pauline retorts dryly, heading for the door. “Besides, Detective Loopy is my favourite kind of Pierce.”

Brittany rolls her eyes and sits patiently on the bed. Pauline only takes a couple minutes before she’s returning with the doctor, stuff to clean Brittany’s cuts, the pain meds, and a phone. Brittany quickly calls her and Mike’s sergeant to update him while the doctor scribbles something in her chart, promising that both of them will call him tomorrow after getting some rest. Brittany waits until the doctor has officially prescribed her the drugs and checked her over before she calls her girlfriend, hissing as Pauline starts cleaning away the blood and dirt and rocks embedded in her knees.

“Hey, babe,” Santana greets and Brittany can hear the smile in her voice. “Are you on your way home now?”

It’s probably a combination of the pain meds and the ice on her forehead that causes a goofy smile to spread across her face at that thought; they’ve lived together for a couple months by now but that thought, that idea, that concept, never fails to fill her with fizzling, bubbling joy, like she took a long drink of soda. Usually she can contain her giddiness revolving all things Santana—at least when she’s attempting to be a professional because she’s technically still on shift—but judging from the knowing smirk on Pauline’s face as she continues to clean up Brittany’s knees she doesn’t hide it very well. “Um,” she mumbles quietly, “Not quite. Mike and I were chasing a suspect today and I kinda tripped over him and now there’s an arm that isn’t exactly straight anymore and I—”

“You broke what?” Santana squawks, and through the haze of drugs that’s slowly descending upon Brittany’s consciousness, there’s a deep throbbing ache in her chest at the fear coating Santana’s voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” Brittany soothes quickly, “We’re at the hospital right now and I didn’t break anything but I’m pretty sure Mike’s getting a cast right now and since he’s my ride home today—”

“I’ll be there in ten,” Santana interrupts, and the jangling of keys fills Brittany’s ears for a moment. “I’ll drive Mike home too.”

“Okay,” Brittany mumbles, quickly growing more hazy. “I dunno know where he is but he’s prob’ly somewhere.” Brittany doesn’t notice the way Pauline fondly rolls her eyes at Brittany; she’s always reacted poorly to pain meds, ever since the very first time Pauline was stitching her up when she was only just a recruit. “Wait,” Brittany says slowly, “Who are you driving home?”

“Mike—” Santana starts, but then stops, remembering the last time she saw Brittany on pain meds after she took her to the doctor to get her shoulder checked out all those weeks ago, “Never mind. I’ll see you soon okay?” Santana waits for Brittany’s acknowledgement, and then Brittany can hear the no-nonsense tone to her voice fade away and soft concern floods her ears as Santana murmurs her farewells.

It feels like Brittany blinks and then Santana is standing in the doorway. Miraculously, her hand is already neatly stitched up and Pauline is wrapping a soft bandage around it, her knees already bandaged too.

“Hey,” Brittany whispers excitedly to Pauline, her eyes hazy from the drugs and dreamy from Santana’s presence, “That’s my girlfriend over there. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Pauline glances up to greet Brittany’s girlfriend with a small smile, hoping to soothe said girlfriend’s worries before they start even if she knows it’s too late for that. “She is very beautiful,” Pauline agrees, and Brittany immediately bristles under the nurse’s hands.

“You aren’t going to try and date her, are you?” Brittany asks, and the threatening suspicion in her voice makes Pauline bark out a loud laugh, a surprised chuckle drifting through the room from the doorway.

“No, Brittany,” Pauline says fondly, “I’m not going to try and date your girlfriend.”

“Good,” Brittany says, her eyes cutting back to Santana as a hopelessly smitten smile spreads wide across her face again. She turns to Pauline and whispers a confession that couldn’t even generously be called a whisper. “Because I’m planning on marrying her one day and I don’t want to have to fight you for her hand.”

Santana’s eyes widen and her jaw slackens a little at Brittany’s words, but her eyes soften barely a split second later and Pauline doesn’t need to know anything beyond the look on Santana’s face to know that she won’t have to tease Brittany about her lack of love life ever again.

“You must be the infamous Ms. Lopez,” Pauline greets as she secures the bandage around Brittany’s hand.

Santana manages to pull her gaze away from Brittany for long enough to offer Pauline a tight, worried smile. “You must be the infamous Nurse Pauline who’s always fixing my girlfriend up,” she says.

“Girlfriend?” Brittany says excitedly, her eyes a little unfocused as she looks across the room, “You’re my girlfriend?”

Santana’s smile is so adoring and loving that Pauline feels a little bit like an intruder. “For like a year, Britt-Britt,” she promises as she crosses the room.

“Really?” Brittany gasps, smiling even wider as Santana takes Brittany’s uninjured hand and gently brushes tangled blonde hair off of her face, dark eyes quickly taking inventory of all of Brittany’s injuries, “Score!”

Brittany is content to just stare starry-eyed at Santana while Pauline explains the care Brittany will need and recommends some OTC pain meds before she collects her stuff and heads for the door.

“You’re sure she’s really okay?” Santana says skeptically, eyeing the nurse with suspicion and her girlfriend with fond concern, “Because I swear I’ll—”

“Absolutely,” Pauline says with a small smile. “Some people respond to certain pain meds a little,” she glances at Brittany, who’s dreamily and clumsily stroking at Santana’s hip, swinging her legs back and forth without a care in the world, “Well let’s just say Brittany’s always been a little loopier than most whenever we give her the good stuff.”

Santana seems satisfied with the answer, even if her worries won’t be completely assuaged until Brittany’s all healed, and thanks Pauline, who promises to check and see if Mike’s ready to be discharged as well.

Brittany’s humming lightly to herself, and now that the nurse is gone, Santana wraps her arms tightly around Brittany and buries herself into her girlfriend’s embrace, needing the comfort of Brittany breathing against her for reassurance. She can feel Brittany’s smile against her stomach as slightly clumsy arms wrap around Santana’s waist, coherent enough to just quietly let Santana cling to her for a moment.

“What am I going to do with you?” Santana mumbles fondly, pulling back and framing Brittany’s cheeks with her hands. Brittany smiles a little lopsidedly up at Santana, her blue eyes cloudy but still loving as she meets her girlfriend’s eyes. Santana knew going into their relationship that Brittany’s job came with a much higher risk than most, but she absolutely adores how passionate Brittany is about being a detective and would never wish her to be anything else.

It doesn’t mean that she’ll ever stop worrying about her though.

“We match!” Brittany says happily, breaking Santana from her thoughts. Santana hums in acknowledgement, more than a little confused, until Brittany takes Santana’s right hand in hers, trailing sluggish fingers along the jagged scar marring her palm. She smiles widely up at Santana again and holds up her left hand, pressing her bandaged palm to Santana’s scarred palm and it’s only then that Santana realizes that the stitches Brittany got are now pressed against her own scar. “We match!” Brittany repeats with a wide smile.

Santana shakes her head a little, unable to fight the smile curling her lips, and carefully laces their fingers together, using her other hand on Brittany’s jaw to draw her chin up so she can press their lips together. “You’re a goof,” Santana mumbles against Brittany’s lips.

“Your goof,” Brittany says cheekily.

Santana sighs and a warm tingle races up her spine as her mind replays Brittany’s earlier confession to Pauline about one day. “Yeah,” she agrees simply, Brittany’s familiar smile making their lips slip against each other, “My goof.”

#brittana #brittany pierce #santana lopez #glee #brittana fanfiction #glee fanfiction #my writing #prompts #anon #flowers!verse #I had my first day of my last semester of my undergrad today and I'm already Tired #also the first half of this verse? So Old pls don't look lmao

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