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for-a-muse-of-fire · 4 years

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happily i’m unfazed here, too

the wench and the witcher

“happily i’m unfazed here, too”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!POC Reader

Summary: Reader can’t sleep and does what she does best: baking. Geralt discovers something interesting and does his best to be a distraction.

Warnings: This got fluffy as fuck, but there’s still a nice dollop of smut to tide you over.

A/N: I am getting WAY more attached to these two than I initially anticipated and I regret absolutely NOTHING. Lyrics below and title are from Hozier’s song “Wasteland, Baby!” which I fully blame for making this as smooshy as it turned out to be. In my heart of hearts, I know that Geralt of Rivia is basically a tootsie pop - hard to crack, but goo in the middle. Abandonmentissueswilldothattoaperson. Thank you, as always, for reading my lieblings!

@onyour-right ; @coconutxraikage ; @kingniazx ; @ly-canthrope

Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That’s just wasteland, baby

Gods, it’s just unfair, you think, as you watch the witcher sleep. He’s on his belly, snoring gently with one big arm thrown over your waist. You’re fairly certain he hasn’t so much as rolled over since he passed out after your second – third?! – tryst the night before. If nothing else, Geralt is consistent – whatever his mood, a good lay always put him right out.

If only you could be so lucky.

You had managed to doze on and off through the night, but you’ve been awake and staring at the rafters for nigh on a half-hour. It’s not yet dawn, but you can see the sky out the window starting to turn from deep midnight to pale grey. Carefully, you turn to face your bedmate. His face is calm, making him look much younger than his true age – though you’re not sure what that is exactly – and he looks almost boyish at this angle. Maybe even… sweet. Not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

Unable to help yourself, you reach out, carefully pushing his bed-tangled hair back from his forehead. The rich brown of your skin stands out starkly against the smooth pallor of his; when your thumb brushes his temple, Geralt gives a low, sharp inhale. Bleary gold eyes blink open.

“S’matter?” he grumbles.

You press your lips together to keep from laughing. “Nothing,” you whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

Geralt gives you a half-hearted grunt and does just that. You press a kiss to his cheek before carefully extricating yourself from his loose grip. The wooden floor is chilly under your bare feet, but the temperature contrast helps shake the last of the cobwebs from your mind. You stand, and stretch, finding your chemise and a shawl before you slip from the room and down to the kitchen. You tiptoe across the icy flagstone to the massive hearth and build the fire up as quickly as you can manage, staying crouched for a time to warm yourself as you glance take survey of your space.

The herbs over the mantel should be ready in another day, you think, mindlessly finger-combing the tangles from your hair. You’ll have to get to the market to order the chickens for supper tonight, and there are plenty of potatoes and carrots in the root cellar for roasting. For now… for now, you feel like baking. With a smile on your lips, you stand and begin to gather what you’ll need. You tend to your ingredients with care, drawing your focus as you measure and sift and roll, all the while murmuring low to yourself the words taught to you at childhood. The women in your family didn’t call it magic, not exactly, but you’d never seen your mother so much as burn a loaf of bread, and she’d been sure to pass her knowledge down to you.

Golden fingers of sunlight begin to stretch across the counter as you lay down a dusting of flour. You turn your dough out of its bowl and press at it with your hands, kneading it into itself; the energy you focused flows through your fingers, or at least that’s how you picture it. You think about pressing it into each grain of flour, each speck of sugar, until the dough comes together. Satisfied, you smile down at your creation and wipe at your forehead with the back of your hand.

“You’re a hearth witch.”

“Son of a bitch!”

Geralt raises an eyebrow when you whirl to face him. He’s leaning against the door, dressed in his usual black and arms crossed as he eyes you – you have no idea how long he’s been watching you. “Would you stop doing that?” you gripe half-heartedly as you wait for your heartbeat to slow. “Fuck’s sake… and no – I am not. It’s just what I was taught.”

He hmms skeptically, then tips his chin at your soon-to-be bread loaf. “Anyone else would call that spellwork.”

“Well it’s not, its… it’s what my mother taught me. Just how things are done.”

The witcher gives you a half-smile, but he doesn’t press you again. You feel his golden gaze on you as you shape the dough and use the flat wooden board to slide it onto the flat stone rack that sits over the open fire. He wanders closer when you move back to your baking station and begin to clean up your mess; you only pause when he presses up against your back, his hands warm on your waist. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, making you shiver. You feel the gentle press of his nose against your unruly curls – it’s almost like an apology for scaring the life out of you.

“Good morning,” he rumbles.

Biting your lip, you turn in his grasp to gaze up into his face. That honey-colored gaze drifts lazily over your features before your fingers catch the collar of his shirt. With a tug, you bring his lips to yours.

It’s a slow, lazy kind of kiss. Geralt steps into you enough to keep you trapped against the counter – keep your body pressed up tight against his. You give a low, pleased little hum when he licks his way into your mouth. His fingers drift down your hips and farther, taking a brief grip on your backside before he starts gather the fabric of your chemise up. You break the kiss with a soft gasp, “Geralt…”

“Shhh…”

His lips are dry and warm along your jaw and before long you feel calloused, graceful fingertips brush their way across the naked skin of your thigh. They move towards the center of your body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake and you widen your stance almost unconsciously. The hand clutched at the collar of his shirt tightens – your other hand finds his waist and grips. Geralt leaves slow, opened-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hand slips between your legs and the breath in throat catches. You tug at his collar again, pull him in for another kiss, and he obliges, but only for a moment – you whimper when he pulls away, and the lazy, wolfish smile he gives you makes your knees turn to water.

“I want to watch you,” he murmurs. “Keep your eyes open for me… good girl.”

His fingers rub slow, delicate circles against your cunt and keeping your eyes open is suddenly the most difficult thing you’ve ever done, but gods, it’s worth it to be able to see his face. Those golden eyes darken as he skates his fingers through your wetness, making you arch and gasp. You feel like your being stripped bare layer by layer, between the thrumming pleasure that rolls through your belly and the way his eyes take in each crease and furrow of your brow. He slides one finger into the desperate heat of your sex and you shudder. When a second finger follows, you moan his name lowly.

“That’s it, sweetheart…”

He doesn’t rush. He toys with you, keeping you right at the precipice so he can enjoy the way your face twists in pleasure. You feel like you’re going to swoon – your heart thunders in your ears and it’s almost impossible to catch a full breath as you roll your hips against his hand. Geralt’s breath is warm and soft on your face. He doesn’t drop his gaze once. His thumb brushes over the swollen, aching bud of your clit once, twice, and you shatter. It’s like being buffeted by the tide and you can’t help the way your eyes slam shut.

Geralt kisses you to smother your keening cries. You can feel him grinning against your mouth.

There’s a last, shivering moment of pleasure when he slides his hand free. He licks the shine of your slick from his fingers, eyes on you the whole time. You wonder if it would be feasible to pull him to the floor and have your way with him right there. When he bends to trail his lips up the side of your neck, you actively start planning your takedown.

“Is this your way of trying to get me back into bed?” you breathe.

He rumbles a chuckle against your skin, but finally lifts his head; you give a breathless little whine of disappointment that makes him smirk. “Tempting,” he mutters lowly. “But I have to be going.”

You frown. “So soon?”

“I’ve been here more than a week, sweetheart.”

“… What’s your point?”

That makes him snort out a laugh. You grin in return, but it falters quickly at the thought of his absence. He’s made no pledge to you, nor you to him, but… you’re used to him. It feels odd, this rush of longing for the witcher who still stands before you. You step forward, arms sliding around his waist as you take the time to study his face for a few heartbeats – the strong, high planes of his cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw, and the fullness of his mouth. A corner of that mouth curls up, one of his almost-smiles, and you feel your face go warm.

“Geralt…”

“Hmm?”

The words stick somewhere behind your tongue. You curl yourself against his chest, breaking his gaze in the hopes of making it easier. It is, a bit, but it’s still little more than a whisper when you say it, “I… I miss you. When you go, I mean. Every time.”

You feel him go still. For one terrible moment, you think he’s going to pry your arms from him and walk away, but to your relief, he wraps you into a loose embrace. There’s a gentle pressure on the top of your head as he presses his face against your mop of curls. You feel him inhale slow, like he’s breathing you in.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Me, too.”

Geralt kisses you once more and takes his leave.

You bread ends up burnt on the bottom. You don’t much care.

#geralt x reader #geralt x woc reader #geralt x fem!poc reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the wench and the witcher #fanfic #fanfiction #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #tutu scribbles

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stevieang · 5 years

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May I Have This Dance? 2/?

Chapter 1

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston RPF x Plus-Size Reader Insert

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: If too much sweet fluffiness isn’t your thing, then keep on going. This is full-on no-holds-barred fluff.

Tags: @3dsaunt @andiyholly @averyrogers83 @babybluesunsets @bettercallsabs @brittyevans @brookebarnes @captain-rogers-beard @cecygee @csrfavs @docharleythegeekqueen @dorito-distractions @everythingisoverrated @fabicchi @favhearts @flawless-disaster @gifsbysimplysonia @hazeleyedgirl7 @hennessy0274-blog @inumorph @jaguars2007 @jaamesbbarnes @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @janeyboo @joshburtonhellzyess @jouhainak @learisa @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @lilylovescomics @lojo83 @lookwhatyoumademequeue @lostinspace33 @madicardi @magellan-88 @mamapeterson @me-a-hopeless-romantic @meyoko10 @mindingmyownbusiness @mizzzpink @neverleturheartshow2 @nomadicpixel @part-time-patronus @patzammit @pinkieandthebrain1 @redqueen1221 @sebbytrash @sgtjbuccky @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @stark-spangled-banner-man @st-eve-barnes @stillherebiandabitch @sunriserose1023 @suz-123 @the-real-kellymonster @tutis24 @winterismyfavoriteseason1945 @winters-beauty @yaykitty3

Summary: Two of your best friends are getting married and you have the honor of singing at their wedding. At the reception you’re approached by a famous friend of the groom, Tom Hiddleston. Much polite flirting ensues. Will there be more to come? (That’s not a rhetorical question, I’m honestly asking for your input about whether I should write more.)

A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful responses, reblogs, and likes on this, my first RPF! I am always stunned at how wonderfully supportive this community can be, and it makes my day better each and every time I get one of those notifications. Here’s a second chapter and I have a third planned. We’ll see how folks feel about it, if it’s worth continuing. Thanks again!!!!! Happy V-Day!!!!!!!

Chapter 2

**All Italicized dialogue indicates characters are communicating using American Sign Language**

When you turned over and saw the sun peeking around the edges of the hotel curtains, you reached out lazily for your phone and yelped when you saw the time. It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and you were just waking up. You hadn’t slept that late since...well...ever. You quickly did your “morning” stroll through the land of social media and after eating a protein bar you stashed in your suitcase and drinking a large bottle of SmartWater, set up on your balcony with a book and your music. Life was very good.

Around the same time on the top floor of the hotel, Tom awoke to several messages from his team - his agent, manager, director of his next project - all wanting to check in with him and ask when he planned to return to work. After letting them know he’d be in D.C. for a few days and that he was relatively unscathed, his thoughts turned to you. Though it was your voice that grabbed him - honey and whiskey with a touch of bright sweetness - it was your easy smile and raucous, unrestrained joy that pulled him closer. When you danced and he saw how comfortable you were in your life, in your circle of friends, in your body, his feelings shifted from interested to intrigued.

To be honest, he’d become quite accustomed to women throwing themselves at him, or, at the very least, not making it difficult to get to know them better. You immediately stood out with your gentle stubbornness, obvious kindness and undeniable intelligence. It was a potent combination that made him eager to learn more, though he surprised himself when he honestly could not say whether you were as interested as he was. No time like the present to test the waters.

TWH: Good afternoon. Sleep well?

Nothing. No conversation bubble, no “read” receipt, no response.

Nothing. You were surprised Tom hadn’t been in touch after last night. You had tried very hard in recent years to enjoy each moment as it came, to live in the present, rather than pissing it away by focusing on the future. You were disappointed, no doubt, but figured it was a time and experience you’d always hold close to your heart. It had been awhile since you’d felt a connection with anyone, and to think it was with someone as kind and gentlemanly as Tom? Well, that was icing on the cake. (Not to mention that he was shockingly handsome, funny, and intense).

You showered with the intention of washing off the cobwebs and went out in search of dinner. D.C. had many amazing restaurants, but you were only interested in one thing - pizza. With your wallet and phone safely tucked away, you headed down to the lobby to find your idea of oooey, gooey, cheesy, heaven. You confirmed the address with the concierge and were almost out the door when you saw Tom standing out on the sidewalk, talking and laughing with a stunning woman with black hair, a figure worthy of Vogue, and 6-inch heels. You ignored your instinct to hang back, to avoid being seen, but there was no need. He saw you and smiled, excused himself, and walked over, kissing your cheek. His companion kept her focus on her phone, so you quickly filled him in on your current mission for pizza and started for the door.

“You don’t have to rush off, we’ve got a few minutes.” He glanced sideways at his date and reached out for your fingertips, playing with then as if they were piano keys. That started all kinds of unexpected conflicted feelings and you suddenly found something shiny to pick up on the ground, allowing you to step just out of his reach. He noticed.

“I tried texting you this morning, but when I didn’t hear back I wondered, again, if I’d done something that upset you.” His arms were crossed across his chest and his upper body leaned forward. It was casually done but felt intentional, powerful. You felt important. After assuring him he hadn’t and showing him that you hadn’t received any messages you quickly determined that he had transposed two numbers when he entered your info into his phone. You laughed thinking about whomever received a message from him and if they had any clue of their unintentional brush with celebrity.

His companion quietly made her way over, looping her arm through his and lazily laying her hand on his bicep. She smiled and whispered, making a small smile appear as he patted her hand and bid you goodnight with a small bow. You smiled and walked away, intent on yummy sustenance. Little did you know Tom’s eyes followed you until he ducked into the waiting car.

You were in search of heaven and you found it. The same pizza place you frequented in grad school was still in business and walking in was like stepping into a time warp. You were hit with a wave of memories some bright and happy, others sadly nostalgic. Pushing the past aside, you stepped forward and ordered. As you waited, you took some pictures and posted them, tagging your grad school friends that you’d be seeing the next night. You decided to Uber home (for the sake of the pizza) and you were soon ensconced in your room, pizza and new teenage rom-com queued up. You glanced over when your text alert sounded, fully expecting responses to your Instagram posts. Nope.

TWH: Was your quest successful, m’lady?

You: Yes, kind sir, thank you. How’s dinner?

TWH: Delicious, but my mind’s elsewhere, to be honest.

You: Your poor date! She doesn’t deserve anything less than your full attention. I’m disappointed. :(

TWH: My date?? You mean Laura? We’re not on a date.

You: Oh, ok. Sorry to make an assumption, but you were standing next to a ravishingly beautiful woman, both dressed up, and you left together in the same car. Hmmmmm….wonder why I thought that? LOL

TWH: I can see why you did. I’m sorry I didn’t disavow you of the idea, but Laura is the producer of an upcoming film and we were meeting the backers tonight. It’s work, that’s all. Money talk.

You: Well, at least you’re getting a nice night out with hopefully nice people.

TWH: Yes, that I am. They want to go out to a bar for drinks, but I’m thinking of begging off.

You: You ok?

TWH: Yes, but as I said, my mind is elsewhere and I think I’ve successfully done what was asked of me. I believe I’ll be able to exit gracefully without repercussion.

You: Ok, well, as long as you’re alright. I’ll let you be so you can extricate yourself and enjoy the rest of the evening.

You smiled and pressed send. Before you could start the movie, there was a text alert immediately followed by a knock at the door.

TWH: I’m extricated and I hope to, thanks.

Your look through the peephole had you chuckling as you quickly opened the door and smiled.

Tom’s suit jacket was open, his hands clasped behind his back. “I told you my mind was elsewhere.”

“I didn’t think that meant here, but I’m happy it did.” He smiled brilliantly at your response.

“Since you mentioned pizza and movies, I’ve been preoccupied with both. I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but could I join you? I come bearing gifts.” He brought his hands from behind his back, one holding a very good bottle of wine and the other holding a tub of chocolate ice cream with caramel and chocolate. You almost jumped him then and there.

After ushering him in, freezing the ice cream, pouring the wine, and offering him his choice of seat and slices, you started “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,” the new movie that transported you back to the days of Sixteen Candles and Jake Ryan, your first movie crush.

You had seen it a few times before (ok, 15. Ok, ok maybe more than that when you fast forwarded to the smooshy parts), so you were glad to show off when you answered Tom’s questions. The script was based on the best-selling YA novel of the same name, the lead actors were new-ish with crazy chemistry, and it had been such a success that Netflix had already ordered a second installment. Tom’s laugh prompted you to turn to him with an “are you making fun of me?” look on your face, which started him roaring.

“You are adorable. You are so invested in this story, it’s infectious.” You pushed his shoulder as you turned red.

“I’m not making fun, darling, I guess I’m just jaded. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to see a movie through the eyes of someone looking at the finished product rather than the million moving parts that go into making it. It’s beautiful.”

He grabbed your hand, both of you looking down as he intertwined his fingers with yours and spoke so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if you weren’t side by side. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Tom.” His other hand had come round and was softly placed on your thigh.

“Is this ok?” was barely audible, but you nodded. As you covered his other hand with yours, your laptop screen lit up, making you drop his hand, bounce off the couch, and shriek with happiness. You ran over to accept the Video Relay Call from your one of your grad school roommates, Jason.

Tom was sure you wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you, but instead, he was sitting alone, dumbfounded. You were staring at the laptop, clearly engaged in a hilarious conversation with the person on the other end, in sign language. He stood up and walked next to you, watching you use a variety of facial expressions, both obvious and subtle, that would make many actors jealous. He wished he understood.

You were so engrossed in the conversation that you barely noticed Tom sitting near you, watching you, with zero clue of what you were talking about. You didn’t feel right about that.

You: J, hold on a sec, I have someone over and he doesn’t sign. Let me catch him up.

Jason: “Someone?” Who is this someone? Do I know him? Go ahead, I’ll wait.

When you pulled yourself away from Jason, it was surreal to see Tom quietly staring, as if he was studying you.

You were struck by the uniqueness of the moment and threw your head back with laughter. “I’m sorry, Tom. I remember what it was like when I first started signing - I would watch fluent users for hours but have no clue what they were talking about, but didn’t really care because it was so beautiful, so graceful. This is Jason, he was one of my roommates in grad school at Gallaudet University, here in D.C. We’re getting together tomorrow night to see a play on campus.”

Tom took a deep breath in and blew an equally long one out while he took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “You were transformed….so expressive, so energetic.” After looking at your face, he quickly added, “Not that you aren’t those things usually, but….”

You jumped in to save him from himself. “You’re absolutely right. When hearing people communicate, we rely on our tone of voice and the way we combine words, to convey the strength of our emotion. In ASL, that responsibility is transferred to the body - facial expressions and body language are grammatical markers and necessary to communicate fluently.” You turned your head back to the screen as your peripheral vision caught Jason waving for your attention.

You: Sorry J, I was just going down the Intro to ASL road….I should introduce the two of you, you do it way better than me.

Jason: Hey, any friend of yours….why don’t you bring him to the show tomorrow night. There are plenty of tickets and I need to do my male roommate duty of vetting potential suitors.

You: Who says he’s a potential suitor?

Jason: Your blushing, smiling face every time you even mention him. What’s his name by the way?

“He’s asking about you and wondering if you want to come to the play tomorrow night. I think he really just wants to embarass me.” Because you were signing and speaking at the same time, Jason jumped up with a “YES” so loudly that it clearly took Tom by surprise, as it did most people.

“Do you want me to come? I don’t want to intrude on a night with your…..friend?” His eyebrows were raised expectantly, hoping the reality was something different.

“J says there will be voice interpreting, so you’ll wear a pair of headphones and hear everything the actors are signing. I think you’d love it, if for no other reason than seeing a type of acting you’ve never experienced. It’s unforgettable. Please come.” He nodded and you finished up the call after finalizing the details for meeting up the next night.

Non-stop yawning commenced as soon as you sat back on the couch, and Tom excused himself for the night. As he kissed your cheek and slowly pulled back to look at you, you wished your body chose another time to yawn so big you felt like you dislocated your jaw. You both chuckled and wished each other a good night, with promises to get in touch late morning.

“I’ll call you with the details, if that’s alright?”

His smile made you think of the Cheshire Cat. “Of course it’s alright. You have my number.”

Chapter 3

#stevieang #may i have this dance #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #fluff #so far #plus-size reader #chapter 2

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howlsmovinglibrary · 7 years

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All of the question tags!!

Damn, it seems that this is what happens when you run out of phone data and are away from wifi for a while. The 11 questions tags take over.

Imma gonna answer every tag that I can find in this one long post, and sweet jesus I’m not tagging anyone in this particular chain, for fear of starting some kind of infinite loop that eventually becomes sentient and takes over the world.

So, time to seriously overshare!!

From @books-are-portals

1. Favourite mythological being (of any kind)?

It’s a tie between dragons and unicorns, and you know what that means…..FIGHT!

2. Least favourite drink?

I hate coke/diet coke/pepsi/cola. I’m quite intolerant to caffeine in large doses, so the last time I drank a glass of coke, at like 4pm in the afternoon probably about 8 years ago, it kept me away until 3am D:

3. What book(s) do you recommend for everyone?

The Wicked and the Divine comics. It’s hella diverse, the art is amazing, and it’s about insanely powerful magical pop star gods. EVERYONE SHOULD READ.

4. Can you touch the tip of your nose with your tongue?

No – I have both an incredibly small nose and a very stubby tongue.

5. Least favourite book protagonist?

Ummm, bar all the protagonists from classics that I could endlessly moan on about all day and all night (I’m looking at you, Pamela), I’m going to say Zoey from The House of Night series, for all her toxic slut shaming, double standards, and just generally horribly written narrative voice (‘bullpoopy’ is a word that will forever be branded on my mind).

6. What TV show/film makes you happy?

Brooklyn Nine Nine is my go-to happy tv show, Spirited Away/Howl’s Moving Castle are the film equivalent.

7. Favourite trope?

Anything where a platonic friendship (particularly between two women) gets prioritised above a romantic relationship.

8. What piece of fictional technology would you like to have?

An alethiometer from HDM – it tells you the truth, but not enough to stop you from being in control of your own fate (the beauty of a book about free will, I guess.)

9. Finish sentence: I didn’t get enough sleep last night because…

…my back aches from lugging all my books to storage.

10. Favourite food to eat when you’re feeling down?

To be honest, it’s probably toast (with peanut butter if it’s been a really bad day).

11. Can you knit?

I can, but I can’t knit well. If you want a scarf, I can, in theory, do that. Anything that isn’t just one uniform band of the same stitch and I am not the person for the job.

********

From @heretherebebooks

1. Have you ever fallen out of love with a book? Why?

There are a lot of standard answers: ACOTAR, Twilight, etc. but my most recent is Borderline by Mishell Baker – I really like books with ‘unlikeable’ protagonists so I gave this a very high rating on first review, but I didn’t realise how damaging this representation of BPD is until I read multiple own voices reviews on the subject.

2. What’s the strangest book-related dream you’ve ever had?

I have a lot of book dreams which feature me as the protagonist in my favourite fantasy novels, but then when I try to use magic to defend myself my brain goes ‘but Emma, magic doesn’t exist’ and so I’m suddenly facing down a demon hoard with no powers whatsoever.

3. Have you read a book that you didn’t really appreciate until later on?

Ash by Malinda Lo is the main one for this, because I didn’t appreciate that Ash is not supposed to get with the unbelievably hot fairy prince…until I reread five years later and saw that the hot fairy prince is a dick.

4. What book would you like to see a musical adaptation of? (Bonus: any ideas for song titles?)

To be honest, I just want Starkid to do a ‘A Very Potter Musical’ version of Cursed Child and watch the fanfiction of the fanfiction.

5. Have you ever thrown a book across the room? What was it?

Ms Marvel Volume 4 (my ship was sunk…for now, anyway).

6. What book cover do you absolutely hate? How would you redesign it?

The Falconer and Dark Days Club UK covers are just super tacky – I’d take the Falconer US covers, and replace the Dark Days standard ‘pretty woman in fragile looking pose’ covers with either ‘plain looking woman fighting a fuck tonne of demons’ or just ‘fuck tonne of demons’, which is what the story is about anyway.

7. Have you ever cosplayed a character? Who?

I’m read this question at a con while dressed as Newt Scamander, so…. (last year I was Violet from the Rat Queen comics).

8. What’s the last book that made you want to scream from the rooftop?

Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty (the thing I screamed was “MURDER. IN. SPAAAACEEE!” when my housemate asked me what it was about, although I was not on a rooftop at the time.)

9. What’s your favourite subgenre?

My new favourite is ‘geeky contemporary’, bonus points if it’s ‘geek convention contemporary’ (Queens of Geek, Geekerella, Unconventional)

10. If you could bring an author back to life to write one more book, who would it be?

I think Angela Carter could write one hell of a feminist YA fairy tale retelling, so I’m gonna bring her back.

11. Mug full of tea on your bed - yay or nay?

I just….I don’t live life this dangerously xD

*********

From @bookcub:

1. Who was the last character you related to and what were they from?

Luca from The Burning City by Amanda Foody – he was basically the reason I kept reading that book, which otherwise wasn’t really my cup of tea, despite being a perfectly good book. He was the love interest, and was explicitly demiromantic. Although I’m not entirely sure where I place on the ace spectrum, and also felt that his portrayal was a little bit too cut and dry – with no sexual attraction until the MC shows up and then all the sexual attraction immediately at once with not really any grey area – his indifferent attitude towards sex as a general concept until those feelings latch onto a specific person, and his hesitation surrounding how to handle a relationship when it’s not something he’s has to consider before that point, were both very relatable for me. It certainly fitted my experience a little better than Tash Hearts Tolstoy.

2. What’s your favorite genre of music?

Hmmm…there’s a wide range but I guess singer songwriter covers it? I care more about a song’s lyrics than what genre it’s in.

3. Which tags on tumblr do you follow and why?

*whispers* I still don’t really understand how following tags works…..(someone plz explain)

4. Do you have any book related jewelry?

I have a necklace of an owl delivering a Hogwarts letter, and Howl’s earrings from the Ghibli movie.

5. Thoughts on booklr being dead?

I think the parts of booklr that were active a few years ago might be dead, but that’s just one specific group of people and they’ve probably moved on for a reason. Given it’s only in the last year or so that I’m getting notes and making friends, if booklr truly is dead then it seems that I’m either a necromancer, or having one hell of a party in the graveyard.

6. What are some of your favorite picture books from when you were a kid?

We’re Going On a Bear Hunt is the classic (my parents used to sing it to me to get me to go on hikes). When I could read for myself, Varjak Paw.

7. What’s the first book you remember reading or being read to you?

My dad read me the first and half of the second Harry Potter books on the Eurostar train from London to Disneyland Paris.

8. What’s your favorite dystopian novel and why?

Hmmm, I’m not really a fan of dystopias all that much (more of a fantasy person), but I really like the Wolf by Wolf series, which I think counts due to it being alt. history, and The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. The first because a) it has fantasy elements, and b) A* character development over the duology. The second because it was the first ‘literary’ book I read for school and enjoyed, and because the TV show has been one of my favourite things this year.

9. Where do you get/buy most of your books?��

Truthfully, Amazon. I’m trying to do better now that I’m no longer strapped for cash.

10. Favorite animal?

Cats. Fluffy, smooshy faced cats in particular ^^.

11. What book release are you anxious for (one you know the release date for) (yeah that means not Doors or Stone)

It’s a toss-up between The Stone Sky by NK. Jemisin (which is out like, next week!!), Provenance by Ann Leckie, and Warcross by Marie Lu.

**********

From @accidentalspaceexplorer:

1. What do you think of science fiction?

I think it is good when written well, where the focus on world building doesn’t leave the characters one dimensional. Unfortunately I also think it is coded masculine in a number of ways - the focus on a ‘logical, technological’ world rather than ‘illogical’ femme coded magic - which means that sometimes I find it quite an frustrating and alienating genre.

2. What’s one of your pet peeves?

Mansplaining. Currently there’s this really horrible man at my book club who keeps trying to explain narrative to me and I’m like, dude, I’m an English Literature graduate.

3. If you could pick one magic system to exist in real life, what would it be?

Oh, fuck. There’s so many that would be amazing, but I think the main I always gravitate back to is Elemental magic a la the Avatar universe, because that was the first type of magic system I fell in love with.

4. What is your favorite tree?

Cherry blossom

5. Do you have any plants around the house?

I do not own any personally, but my housemate has like fifteen spider plants to which I like to think I am a caring godmother figure.

6. What is the book with the weirdest premise that you’ve read and would recommend?

The Jane Austen Project - time travellers go back to Regency era Britain to befriend Austen and try to steal one of her lost manuscripts.

7. Have you loved books for as long as you can remember, or was there a particular event that sparked you becoming a reader?

As long as I can remember - I remember giving a presentation in class about how I was going to be any author at age 9.

8. What is your favorite recipe?

Lemon meringue cake - cake, lemon curd, a fuck tonne of meringue, what’s not to love?

9. Do you reread books? If not, why not? If so, what’s one that you reread again and again?

Yes. Always reread. My three main ones are The Dark Days Club, Uprooted, and (of course) Howl’s Moving Castle.

10. What’s your favorite weather?

Cold sunshine in winter.

11. Do you read every day?

Pretty much (I read on my lunch break at work).

I think that’s every outstanding question answered - sorry if I’ve missed anyone!

#11 question tag #some would say 'too many questions' tag #about me #some would say 'too much' about me

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stevieang · 5 years

Text

May I Have This Dance? Chapter 2/?

Chapter 1

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston RPF x Plus-Size Reader Insert

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: If too much sweet fluffiness isn’t your thing, then keep on going. This is full-on no-holds-barred fluff.

Tags: @3dsaunt @andiyholly @averyrogers83 @babybluesunsets @bettercallsabs @brittyevans @brookebarnes @captain-rogers-beard @cecygee @csrfavs @docharleythegeekqueen @dorito-distractions @everythingisoverrated @fabicchi @favhearts @flawless-disaster @gifsbysimplysonia @hazeleyedgirl7 @hennessy0274-blog @inumorph @jaguars2007 @jaamesbbarnes @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @janeyboo @joshburtonhellzyess @jouhainak @learisa @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @lilylovescomics @lojo83 @lookwhatyoumademequeue @lostinspace33 @madicardi @magellan-88 @mamapeterson @me-a-hopeless-romantic @meyoko10 @mindingmyownbusiness @mizzzpink @neverleturheartshow2 @nomadicpixel @part-time-patronus @patzammit @pinkieandthebrain1 @redqueen1221 @rosiethebaker @sebbytrash @sgtjbuccky @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @stark-spangled-banner-man @st-eve-barnes @stillherebiandabitch @sunriserose1023 @suz-123 @the-real-kellymonster @tutis24 @winterismyfavoriteseason1945 @winters-beauty @yaykitty3

Chapter 2

**All Italicized dialogue indicates characters are communicating using American Sign Language**