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r3starttt · 26 days

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WARMTH

PAIRING: abby anderson x insecure! fat! reader

SUMMARY: Abby being so in love with reader and trying to be comforting and supportive just by being there.

CW: request. angst. comfort. mentions of ed. body descriptors. more like a blurb it barely has any dialogue but whatever.

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | - abby taglist: @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages

In the quiet of the evening, you found yourself clinging to the bed, the soft cotton blankets bringing little but enough comfort. The worn edges of the book brushed against your fingertips, its thin feeling like a fragile connection to something outside the whirlwind in your mind. Each word on the page blurred as the weight of your thoughts pressed down, relentless and unyielding. Abby had been on you for weeks about this book, nudging you until you promised you’d read it. But promises felt as flimsy as the paper you held, easily crumpled by every thought brushing through your brain.

Abby’s footsteps echoed faintly in the background, a reminder of her presence, though your mind was too wrapped up in the novel.

Life had become a delicate balancing act, each day a struggle to keep going, to keep moving forward, even if it was just one small step at a time, it had become a tangle of obligations, a constant march of tasks that left you feeling drained, empty. Your body felt like it was carrying the weight of the world—shoulders slumped under the invisible pressure, back aching from the strain, head and eyes heavy with exhaustion. Sleep was a distant memory, and when it did come, it offered little relief.

Mirrors, reflecting a version of yourself you no longer recognized—a body that no longer fit into clothes that once made you feel like you belonged. Even the simple act of eating had become a battlefield, your gaze lingered too long on the back of food packages, the numbers blurring together as you tried to fight the urge to calculate, to measure your worth in calories and pounds.

Your clothes, once familiar and comforting, now felt like a betrayal, squeezing too tight, or hanging too loose in all the wrong places. You found yourself avoiding mirrors, the sight of your own skin a reminder of something you didn’t want to see. The temptation to scrutinize every bite you took was a whisper in the back of your mind, a siren call you tried to ignore by keeping busy, filling every moment with something—anything—that would keep the thoughts at bay.

But today was different. You had woken up too drained to care, the exhaustion weighing you down to the point where the usual vigilance slipped, allowing you to finally pick up the book Abby had left on your nightstand. It had been a week since you’d even glanced at the cover, and now, under her watchful eye, you had allowed yourself the rare luxury of getting lost in the story, if only for a little while.

You’d been curled up in your most comfortable clothes—loose pants and one of Abby’s oversized t-shirts, a shield against the world, against yourself. Even in the sanctuary of your home, the need to cover up was overwhelming, not for warmth or comfort, but for a sense of safety, a way to hide what you couldn’t bear to see.

As you turned the last page of the chapter, the half-empty sheet before you felt like a small victory, a brief respite in the chaos of your mind. You pressed the book against your legs, fingers absently tugging at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your stomach where it had bunched uncomfortably. The movement made you hyper-aware of every inch of your body, and you felt the familiar surge of self-consciousness rise, threatening to drown you.

But then, there was Abby. A soft blur at the edge of your vision. You could hear her murmurs, her words drifting over you like a soothing balm, though their meaning was lost.

“Mhm?” you muttered, tilting your head slightly, trying to pull yourself back to the moment. You lowered your legs, letting them fall against the sheets, but she didn’t answer right away, just sighed as she met your gaze.

“Was looking for that,” she said, her voice soft as she pointed at the shirt you wore- a piece of her that you had claimed as your own, though it never felt quite like it belonged to you.

You offered her a small, almost weak smile, the expression not quite reaching your eyes. Abby’s footsteps creaked against the wooden floor as she made her way to the bed, her presence filling the room with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold thoughts swirling in your mind. Her fingers tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the gesture as familiar as the way the corners of her lips curled when she looked at you.

Her hand found its way to your knee, her thumb drawing small, soothing circles on your skin. “How’s the book?” she asked, her voice soft as she nodded toward it, her chin lifting slightly as if to guide your eyes back to the pages.

You hesitated, your lips forming a small pout as your brows knit together in thought. “It’s… yeah, it’s good, though it’s…” your voice trailed off, “A lot?” she finished for you, the words overlapping with hers as she guessed your thoughts with a playful nod.

“Yeah,” you echoed, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you set the book aside, suddenly all too aware of your body again. The way your stomach felt too prominent, the way your arms and thighs seemed too large, the way your skin felt too tight.

Abby’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with that familiar warmth, but your mind was already slipping away, back into the spiral of self-doubt. You set the book aside, suddenly too aware of your body again. The shirt felt too tight, and you shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide, trying to make yourself smaller.

But Abby wouldn’t let you retreat. She moved between your legs, gently patting your knees to signal you to open them, and you did, though the action felt like exposing a vulnerability you weren’t ready to face. She settled in, her head resting against your stomach, her hands resting on your thighs. Her touch was as gentle as the breeze that rustled the leaves outside, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin, each movement a silent declaration of her love. Abby’s hands slid up, her palms now resting against your stomach, her elbows bracing against your thighs. Her chin rested atop her fingers, and she gazed up at you with a look so full of love that it made your breath catch in your throat. The warmth of her touch seeped into your skin.

She hummed softly, a contented sound that vibrated through your body, and you couldn’t help but reach down, your fingers threading through her hair, your nails grazing her scalp in the way you knew she loved. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sighed again, a sound that spoke of comfort, of home.

The silence that fell between you was thick with unspoken words, the kind of silence that was heavy but not uncomfortable. Abby knew you better than anyone, and she adored you in a way that felt like it was written. Her love was a constant, a force that wrapped around you even when you couldn’t see it, even when you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

Her eyes were for you and you alone, her hands to hold yours, her body to shield you from the harshness of the world. She could feel the shift in you—the way your insecurities had crept back in, wrapping themselves around your heart like a vice.

She’d noticed the small things, the way you hesitated before eating, the way your fingers turned food packages over, searching for the numbers that had started to define your self-worth. She’d heard the frustration in your voice when you tried on clothes that didn’t fit the way they used to, seen the way you stared at your reflection, lost in thoughts that were far from kind.

Abby knew, because she loved you. And loving you meant seeing all of you—the good, the bad, the parts you tried to hide. She’d noticed the way you pulled away when she tried to touch you, the way you flinched when her hands found their way under your clothes, as if her love could somehow make you smaller, make you disappear.

Your style had changed, not out of choice, but out of necessity—a defense mechanism your mind had conjured up to protect you from the harsh judgment you reserved for yourself.

But Abby was patient. She adored you, every part of you, and she was determined to remind you of that, even if it took a lifetime. As she lay there, her head on your stomach, her hands resting on your body, she made a silent vow to be there for you, to love you through every moment of doubt, to hold you until you could see yourself the way she did—beautiful, worthy, and more than enough.

Because to Abby, you were everything.

"You're gonna tell me what happened?" Her voice, a gentle murmur, pulled you from the haze of your thoughts, like a hand reaching out to guide you from a fog. There was a genuine confusion in her words, a softness that made you want to shield her from the darkness swirling in your mind. "Mhm?" you replied, the sound barely a breath. She tilted her head, her gaze locking with yours, a quiet invitation for you to let her in. Your hand, once lost in the softness of her hair, drifted to her cheek, cradling her face as though it were a delicate treasure. Your fingers, as if compelled by a deeper instinct, traced her freckles, each one like a star in the constellation of her being, a map you could never tire of following.

She laughed it off, a tender sound that echoed in the space between you, not pressing for answers but simply wanting to be there with you, to offer herself as a haven. She longed to comfort you, to wrap you in the safety of her embrace, to hold you in a way that words could never fully express.

Her palms slid over your thighs, warm through the fabric of your pants, fingers dancing at the hem of your shirt. They lingered there, as if seeking silent permission to venture further, to touch the parts of you that felt most vulnerable. Your mind screamed a litany of doubts—were you too heavy, did you maybe have too many stretch marks? Did you smell good, look good? Would she still want you, even when your insecurities felt like an ocean threatening to drown you? These thoughts, foreign only a month ago, now crashed against you with relentless force, despite knowing Abby’s love was an unwavering lighthouse.

She’d told you countless times, her words a constant refrain when she collapsed beside you after the gym, flushed and radiant with the energy of life. You’d always echoed her sentiment—whether she came home sweaty, disheveled, or feeling less than perfect, you loved her entirely, without condition or hesitation.

In truth, your bodies weren’t so different. The architecture of your forms was built from the same materials—softness and strength, stretch marks and scars, each line telling the story of who you were. Her body, with its curves and muscles, its stretch marks and hair, was big, powerful, beautiful. But in your eyes, her flaws were transformed into something desirable, while yours felt like burdens.

Yet here she was, her warmth seeping into your skin, your gazes entwined in a silence that spoke of love deeper than words. She would never cross a boundary you set, but her yearning to touch you, to feel every inch of who you were, was palpable. And how could you deny her? It felt good—no, it felt necessary—to be held, to be seen with such tenderness, without the pressure to heal, just the quiet, steady comfort of being held.

"You know," she whispered, adjusting herself to press closer, her hands sliding beneath your shirt, finding the bare skin of your stomach. "I saw you this morning, before you woke up." Her lips brushed against the softness of your belly, a kiss as light as a whisper. Her fingers caressed the gentle curves of your stomach, resting over the places you felt most self-conscious about. "I don’t think you felt it, but I hugged you closer. I had to," she paused, and for the first time, you felt a flicker of something warm and bright inside you, like the first light of dawn. "You smelled so good, and you were so warm," she murmured, her lips pressing into your skin once more.

Suddenly, the feeling of being exposed before her dissolved, replaced by a sense of being cherished, of being worthy of her gentleness and adoration. "Yeah?" you murmured, the word slipping out as you let yourself believe her, just for a moment. "I’ve missed you, m’ sorry." Her response was a hum against your skin, the vibrations of her voice resonating through you, as her fingers traced the edge of your shirt, inching it up to brush against your chest. And there she stayed, holding you as if she never wanted to let go.

"I love you," she whispered, the words wrapping around you like a protective cloak, a promise that in her arms, you were always enough. "I know."

#( 𓍼𓈀A𝕽𝐂𝐇𝖎V𝕰 ⨟ 𓍯 abby )#( 𝕽EQ'S﹕⠀ ❪ Abby ❫#abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x y/n #abby anderson x reader fluff #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x chubby reader #abby anderson x fat reader #abby x chubby reader #abby x fat reader #abby anderson fluff #abby fluff

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tomblythismyhusband · 8 months

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flowers [billy the kid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader | You and Billy enjoy a sunny afternoon out in the flower fields to get away from the pressures of life.

[warnings]: just fluff :)

[wc]: 890

[note]: little blurb i wrote so it’s kinda short, basically just imagining what it would be like to lay in a field with billy…. sigh….

Sun kissed and happy.

That’s all you were at this moment. Your body in the strong arms of your lover, Billy as you both sprawled out in a vast field of daisies. The warmth of the summer sun danced upon your skin as you laid on the soft grass.

Billy had taken you out early that morning to this little spot out on the prairie. “We won’t get caught here.” He had said with a smile. You trusted him.

Obviously, being romantically involved with an infamous outlaw had its down sides but Billy always made it up to you. Anytime that he could do something for you, he would. Whether it was leaving little gifts by your doorstep or sneaking you out of your Pa’s house, he always worked hardest to make you feel loved.

And now, laying in a field of smiling daisies, you felt at peace. You were often worried about Billy when he was away. At any time he could be caught, killed, or imprisoned, so moments like this - where you were safely in his arms - made you feel like you were in heaven.

You lazily tilted your head up to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. Laying next to him on the warm earth almost felt unreal, like a part of a romance novel you’ve read before.

“You smell good.” You hummed against his neck, taking in the scent of him. He smelled like campfire and whiskey, two things that shouldn’t smell as good as they did.

A laugh puffed out of Billy’s lips as he angled his head down to place his lips on your temple. His lips felt soft against your skin.

“I’m guessin’ you’ve missed me huh?” He said, his voice rough and ragged. You could feel his warm breath against your forehead making your cheeks heat.

You shifted your body so you laid on your side with your face over his as he stared up into the blue sky.

“Of course I’ve missed ya.” You said softly. You couldn’t help but smile down at him, your lashes fluttering over your eyes.

He reached a hand up to trace your cheek. You would never get bored of the feeling of his rough, calloused hands caressing your skin. It was comforting, his touch felt like home.

When Billy touched you, nothing else mattered, only him. Despite his rough exterior he was always soft with you, as if you were a delicate flower that could be crumpled easily.

You picked at the grass below you while you stared into his striking blue eyes.

“I can’t stand being away from you for too long darlin’” He whispered, also shifting his body so he was propped up on his side.

Billy’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the gentle swoop of your hips and waist waist as you laid there. God were you beautiful. Billy felt like the luckiest man in the world to be lounging here next to you.

He stared at you for a while, taking in all of your perfects. He loved the way your hair fell into place on your shoulders, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, and especially the faint pink of your cheeks.

You felt his eyes on you and blushed. “What?”

Billy’s lips parted as if he was trying to find the words to say.

“You're just so… Beautiful.” He finally said, giving you a soft smile.

You couldn’t contain your joy as you swooped over to him to plant a kiss on his lips. Your arms found their place around his neck as he let out a muffled grunt.

Billy leaned into the kiss, pulling your body closer to his. He put his arms around your waist and moved you so laid on top of him. When you broke apart from the kiss you couldn’t look anywhere but him. You loved the faint freckles that dotted his face, the curls that softly sat on his brow. You loved all of him.

You spent the rest of the day in the flowery meadow, not having a care in the world. You sat and talked for hours about everything and nothing at all simultaneously. You liked the time away from the stress of the real world. You liked being able to live in your own fantasy, even if it was just for a day.

“I wish I could stay here forever.” You whispered to Billy, as your hands worked meticulously on crafting a crown of daisies. The sun was starting to set now, casting an orange glow across the meadow.

Billy smiled down at you. “You sure you wouldn't get tired of me darlin’?”

“Never.” You giggled, placing a finished daisy crown on Billy’s head. Who knew a known killer could look so impossibly gorgeous in a flower crown?

Billy smiled at you, adjusting the crown on top of his messy brown curls.

“Jesse would never let me hear the end of it if he knew I was sittin’ here with flowers on my head.” He joked.

You let out a laugh, scooting closer to him. You cupped his cheek gently.

“I love you Billy.”

He leaned down to kiss your lips, pink and warm. “I love you too darlin’.” He murmured against them. You could feel his words vibrate through your body.

You wanted this moment to last forever.

You and Billy.

And a field of flowers.

#billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x you #billythekidxreader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy the kid smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth #willam afton #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #coriolanus imagine

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vanteguccir · 2 months

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I NEED a fluff of bookworm! reader and gamer! matt 🙏🏾

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb with gamer!matt

　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x bookworm!reader

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the cozy room. Y/N was nestled comfortably on her bed, her back against a mountain of pillows, lost in the pages of a thick novel. She had her favorite blanket draped over her legs, its softness a comforting presence as she delved deeper into the fictional world. Beside her, the soft hum of Matt’s gaming setup and the distinct ones that came from his headphones created a soothing background noise, blending perfectly with the rustle of turning pages.

Matt sat at his desk, eyes focused on the screen as his fingers moved deftly over the keyboard. He was in the middle of an intense game in Fortnite, yet every few minutes, his gaze would drift towards Y/N. He loved seeing her like this, completely engrossed in her book, her eyes widening or her lips curling into a smile at particularly gripping moments. It was one of those small things that made him adore her even more.

"Everything okay, babe?" Matt asked during a brief pause in his game.

Y/N looked up, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah, everything’s perfect! Just getting to a really good part." She replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Matt grinned, satisfied that she was enjoying herself. He resumed his game but kept a part of his attention on her, glancing over every so often. After a particularly thrilling chapter, Y/N let out an audible gasp, her eyes wide with surprise. Matt chuckled to himself, knowing exactly what had caused her reaction. He paused his game and stood up, stretching his arms above his head before walking over to the door, leaving their room quietly, leaving it half open behind.

He took a few steps before entering the kitchen, his hands rummaged through the pantry, and found her favorite snacks. He poured some coffee she had made earlier that day, knowing she loved a warm drink while reading and grabbed a root beer for himself. Balancing everything on a tray, he carefully made his way back to the bedroom.

"Hey, bookworm." He called softly, making Y/N look up from her book, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Snack delivery!"

"You’re the best, Matty." She said, setting her book aside for a moment.

Matt set the tray on the bedside table and handed her the coffee.

"I know." He replied with a wink. He then settled back at his desk, sipping his soda and resuming his game.

As the afternoon wore on, the room filled with the gentle sounds of Y/N’s occasional gasps and giggles as she reacted to her book. Matt’s game was going well, but he found himself more and more distracted by her. He loved seeing her so animated, her emotions so raw and genuine.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, Matt put down his headphones and walked over to the bed. He gently moved the book from her hands and lay down between her legs, resting his head on her stomach. Y/N looked down at him, surprised but delighted.

"Hey, you." She said softly, her fingers automatically threading through his hair.

"Hey." He replied, looking up at her with a mischievous grin. "What’s happening in your book?"

"Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. Jack just found out who killed the 8 burned girls." Y/N said, her voice filled with the drama of the story.

Matt chuckled. He couldn't understand how his calm and serene looking girl had so much appreciation for death books.

"Sounds intense."

"It is." Y/N agreed, her fingers still playing with his hair. "But it’s so good."

Matt watched her for a few more seconds, his heart swelling with affection. Then, he leaned up and peppered her face with kisses, making her laugh.

"You’re adorable." He said between kisses.

Y/N giggled, trying to dodge his affectionate assault.

"Matt, stop! That tickles!"

"I can’t help it. You’re too pretty." He said, finally stopping and resting his head back on her stomach.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the simple closeness. Then, with a sigh, Matt got up.

"I should get back to my game." He said reluctantly.

Y/N nodded, her smile still lingering.

"Go win that game for me."

"Will do." He promised, giving her one last kiss before returning to his desk.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blissful haze of books and games. Every now and then, Matt would look over at Y/N, and every time, he found her more enchanting than before. They didn’t need words to communicate their feelings; the shared silence was enough, punctuated by the occasional look, touch, or smile.

As the sun began to set, casting a soft, pinkish hue over the room, Y/N put down her book and stretched. Matt noticed and paused his game, turning to her with a smile.

"Done for the day?" He asked, noticing how she was almost at the end of the book.

"Yeah, I think so. I wanted to read more, but I'm tired." She replied, rubbing her eyes. "How about you?"

"I can be." He said, getting up and walking over to her. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand. "Why don't you tell me all about that book of yours while I order us something to eat?"

Y/N’s eyes lit up.

"That sounds perfect."

Matt leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"Then it's a plan."

#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #fluff #bookworm!reader #gamer!matt

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aquarelliwrites · 3 months

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Reading Date

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader BLURB: A miserably cold day during winter break gives Oscar the opportunity to have a closer look at one of your hobbies. CONTENT WARNINGS: passing mention of alcohol, fluff, you/yours pronouns with no specified gender, no use of Y/N

1.8k

Weak white daylight streamed in through the gauzy curtains of your sitting room - first illuminating dust particles caught floating in its path, then reaching you on the sofa. The sage green record player played its honeyed vintage notes at a leisurely pace, the soft tones of a melody on piano only there for you to hear.

By all means, you were happy with this. The radiator right under the window kept the sitting room at a relatively normal temperature considering the miserable January weather outside, and you buried yourself in blankets in addition - if someone were to ask, you'd have to guess some number between 3 and 5, all covering different parts of you.

The collection of essays you'd been dragging yourself through reading was finally finished, which made you more than happy to pull one of your 'rainy day' books off the shelf and decide if it was a worthy successor to the last novel you'd read. The essays were incredibly interesting and provided a fresh view of the world, sure, but sometimes all you really needed was a good piece of fiction to sink your teeth into. Your boyfriend sometimes teased you about the number of books you bought and never read, but your argument was sound: you often needed the story to find you at the right time to enjoy it fully.

Speak of the devil - a door down the hallway creaked open and closed faintly, and you hear Oscar's soft footsteps on the hardwood shortly before he speaks up.

"Good morning." He really was the embodiment of a polite cat right then and there - cozy clothes, tired smile, a voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Good morning, darling," you smiled back. His hands held the back of the couch behind you, and you observed the way they supported his weight before craning your neck upwards to see him looking at you upside-down. "How'd you sleep? Sorry if the music woke you up."

"Oh, no, don't worry about that." He rested his entire forearm on the backrest now, laying his head in a way where it was right next to yours. You swore you got goosebumps from the way his morning voice spoken right next to your ear scratched your brain just right. "I couldn't even hear it in the hallway. I slept fine. Take it you did too?"

You nodded, sitting up slightly and reaching for his cheek to press a soft kiss on his lips. He let out a satisfied hum, reaching up to tangle his hand in your hair. You weren't a new couple by any means, having not been in your 'honeymoon lovebirds' phase for at least a year or two by now; still, you loved that every kiss and small gesture you exchanged still made you feel as warm and bright as the day you met.

"How does coffee sound?" He asked when he pulled away, his hand traveling from your hair to cradle your face. Tiny sparks lit a fire under where his thumb ran over the apple of your cheek, and you briefly shut your eyes to savor the moment.

"Coffee sounds great, Osc,” you spoke, and after his pointed pause chuckled, “please and thank you."

His laugh is in harmony with the song on the vinyl - although maybe you’re just young and in love and so it seems that way. The sound of him grinding coffee beans for you both sort of fades into the background, so you don’t really notice he’s back until a latte’s placed on the side table next to you. In the rich foam, the figure of a lopsided heart catches your attention.

“You did latte art for me,” you gush, a grin seemingly stuck on your face as he sets his mug down by the other end of the sofa. It’s nearly surreal: the athlete behind the visor is curling up on the couch with you now, sipping a latte from a matching mug and choosing a Netflix show. Lifting the needle and turning off the turntable, you watch the vinyl come to a slow stop before putting it away with care.

You’re left sitting in a comfortable silence after that, with background noise of muffled dialogue and the occasional flipping of a page. He did manage to end up with his legs completely in your space under the blankets, though. Not that you minded.

“You don’t have anything planned for today, right?” Is it shitty if he secretly really, really hoped you would say no?

"No.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief, and you smiled at his antics. “I was thinking about maybe, possibly taking a walk later, but…" you looked out of the window. The street outside was empty and foggy, and the overcast sky enveloped everything like the world’s most depressing duvet. “I’d have to bundle up, and I’m just not feeling it right now.”

"We could have a day in. Just the two of us."

"That sounds lovely, Osc." And with that, you were back to silence, each of you cozy in your own little bubble.

Oscar did end up having to get up later on your behalf to bring you a snack, but he lingered by the bookshelf for a strangely long time on his way back.

"What's up?" You glanced over to see him craning his head sideways and examining the titles.

"I kind of want to read with you. Just… not sure what." It’s cute how focused he was - his brows furrowed adorably and he chewed his lower lip a little. He didn’t even know how attractive you found him like that.

"I thought you weren't a book person."

"You seem like you enjoy it." He shrugged. "Any recommendations?"

It was a couple of beats of collective pondering of the titles before you clicked your tongue and pointed to the middle rack. "Uh, fifth from the left, white spine with blue letters."

He followed your instructions, but playfully rolled his eyes at the title. "'Normal People'? Is this supposed to mean something?"

"It's not a jab at you, it's just a pretty good character study that reads fairly easily." You sounded a little defensive, so he lifted his hands up in mock surrender before collapsing back on the sofa and curling up. He didn’t miss the opportunity to steal one of your blankets then, laughing at the death glare you sent him.

You waited for him to settle before scooting yourself and the blanket nest over, resting under his left arm. A satisfied sigh left you at the sensation of immense warmth and comfort you found and let him know you don’t plan to move away anytime soon.

Not that he really minded.

“Who has to cook?” He asked you around midday, both of you already deeply invested in your reading.

You hummed indecisively. “I'll rock-paper-scissors you for it?”

Oscar agreed, and you both cupped your fists in your left hands.

"Best of three," he added after losing the first round. You're unsurprised he lost overall - he always chose scissors first.

“Best of five?” He suggested.

“Get to it, pastry boy. Chop chop.”

He sighed dramatically, like the weight of the world sat upon his shoulders, and stood up suddenly, leaving you to fall into a fit of giggles - now in a fully lying position.

Eventually, you poured yourself a drink from the fridge and sat yourself all pretty on the kitchen island. He hummed along to some song from his Spotify, and you took a moment to really admire him. Even in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair still fell in that graceful swoop across his forehead; the way you can see his forearms flex with how he rolled up his sleeves made your thoughts race.

You did also catch yourself staring at his ass. It was unavoidable.

“They should call you Oscar Pi-ass-tri, goddamn.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder and cocked his hip with a sly smile. “Did you put any alcohol in there, baby?”

“You know I'm just naturally like this.”

“I do.”

"You know," you took a sip after an extended silence, "the sluttiest thing a man can do is know how to cook delicious meals."

He was quiet for a moment, stirring a pot on the stove, before he shrugged with a small smile tugging upwards at the corners of his lips. "'Guess I'm a filthy whore of a man then."

You both paused, again, and he looked up at you from the pasta sauce he was making. You could have heard a pin drop, then.

In the moment after, you were both roaring with laughter - he was almost on his knees on the floor while your knuckles were white with how hard you were gripping the countertop not to fall off.

You barely wheezed out, "That's your new name in my phone," before Oscar was practically folded over again and you were struggling to catch your breath.

The pasta ended up tasting divine, and you were both full before you knew it. The couch welcomed you back after lunch, the TV just on as background noise to avoid the afternoon drowsiness.

"You were right, you know," he said while marking his place - over your dead body would you let him dog-ear the page - "it is a good character study. I wish they'd just, well, you know. Talk about their problems."

"It's a little frustrating, yeah,” you mumbled. He was so indescribably warm and comfortable and you really couldn’t make yourself move to look at him from where you were still lying under his arm and several blankets. A certain comfort settled deep into your bones, and you felt as heavy as lead. "It ends well, I promise."

"It better." He grumbled, and you responded with a huffy giggle.

While he had a late lie-in, you had been up for a while already by that point. After a few too-long moments of silence, he lifted his elbow and noticed you dozed off completely. Your weight was comfortable on him, and the story was interesting, so he put yours away on the coffee table and decided he could waste the afternoon just like this.

Ultimately, you stirred a couple of times throughout the few hours you were out - never truly waking up, except to pull yourself closer to him. He was more than halfway through the little paperback you assigned him and, surprisingly, he was actually enjoying himself. Maybe it was just because he got to participate in a hobby you like as well. Or maybe he enjoyed the closeness and intimacy of getting to read your little pencil notes in the margins; enjoyed the soothing rhythm of your chest rising and falling; enjoyed the small pleasures of ‘normal people’ things.

It was such a perfect moment that, for an instant, he felt like he could spend every single one of the rest of his days like this.

Note: I'm not as happy with this as I was with the Max fic (and I'm upset with myself for not posting it when I said I would?? alas we live) but Oscar is one of my favorite drivers and I hope I did him justice lol

Liked this? Check out my masterlist!

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nycreid · 2 years

Text

SPENCER REID FIC RECS !

FLUFF

Books and Notes by @galaxy-siren

Summary: During movie night with Derek and Garcia, Spencer’s neighbor returns a book she borrowed and leaves a note inside it asking Spencer to dinner.

pov : you're dating spencer reid :) by @socklessworm

Little Touches by @radiant-reid

Summary: Just a few moments where Spencer learns how much he loves touches

Magic Words by @aperrywilliams

Summary: With a two-month-old, life could be messy, but Spencer won’t waste any chance to enjoy his paternity.

Sunshine by @radiant-reid

Summary: Spencer is usually really good at keeping secrets, and it takes a few months for him to drop the ball and reveal who his ‘sunshine’ is to the whole team

Baby Daddy by @shemarmooresfedora

Summary: You are running out of time to have a kid of your own so you are assessing your options.

How Everyone Found Out by @radiant-reid

Summary: a little blurb about how each of the team members found out about a secret BAU relationship

SMUT

Mon genre by @coldbrewat3am

Summary: When sugar!daddy Spencer gets jealous, reader gets to reap the benefits

You're Something Else by @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Summary: Reader reveals to her boyfriend, Spencer, that she's never had sex. He takes it into his hands to change that, with her enthusiastic support of course

Every Bit, Every Inch by @drspencerweed

Summary: After a long night out, Reader is excited to jump her boyfriend's bones as soon as she sees him. When he gets too in his head, she shows him the best way to get out of it.

Jamais by @coldbrewat3am

Summary: Reader has never had an orgasm. Spencer plans on changing that

Anatomy Lesson | Secret Sex Buddy | Not Just A Genius by @downondilaudid

Summary: Reader has some sex trouble, out of all people to ask for help, she asks Spencer Reid. (mini series)

Taboo Nightmare by ^

Summary: Reader has an amazing one night stand with a stranger from a bar, only to regret her decision days later when she walks into class and realizes he’s her new professor.

Not Even Close by @fortheloveofwonderland

Summary: the aftermath of a hostage situation causes you and your least favourite person, Spencer, to grow closer. When you have to reevaluate your feelings for Spencer, you might find you never actually hated him at all.

Bureau by @coldbrewat3am

Summary: Staying late with your boss has its benefits

Jazz & Jealousy by @imagining-in-the-margins

Summary: On a visit from New Orleans, Ethan takes a liking to Spencer’s crush. Spencer is not thrilled by this.

Devil eyes by @sinfulspencer

Summary: Spencer, dressed up as a devil, is drawn to the angel dancing around him at the club.

ANGST

It’s Just Indifference by @andiebeaword

Summary: Reader goes on the best date of her life. Her only regret was not getting his number in return. 15 months later, they see each other again at her favorite coffee shop.

The Antithesis of Loss by @radiant-reid

Summary: With Spencer in prison, Y/n struggles with how much she loves him until he’s finally out.

And I’ll Do Anything That You Say (If You Say It With Your Hands) (+18) by @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Summary: Spencer and Reader are forced to share a room, but can't resist falling into old patterns, even though it's dangerous and just might break them.

SERIES

The Love Hypothesis by @goldentournesol

Summary: Y/N is a third year grad student who kisses the first man she sees in order to cover up a lie. What happens when she finds out that the man she kisses is none other than the legendary Dr. Spencer Reid? Will Dr. Reid play along? (loosely based off the novel The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood)

Twisted by @dreamwritesimagines

Summary: No one can outrun their past.

Settle Down by @write-orflight

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

Part 2?

#spencer reid fic recs #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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yuurei20 · 9 months

Note

Do you have a master list of the translated novel chapters so far? Or someplace to read all of them at once? If not, thanks anyways!

Hello hello! A compilation thread of translations from the first novel can be found here! It is not a complete translation of the entire novel, just a few blurbs that I found interesting for being different from the game, if that is okay :>

I hadn't put together a compilation of second-novel translations because it is still ongoing, but I can list them now!

(Disclaimer: I am very, very much not a writer, I promise that the actual book is much more well written than this, and I encourage everyone to read the official translation when it is released! The first novel is coming in August, 2024, from Viz Media!)

Introduction "In a corner of the prestigious magic school, Night Raven College, there stands an old, unused dormitory."

Yuuya and the Rumors “'What's the matter? You look a bit down,’ says the ghost." Grim, Unhappy "’Whaddya mean? I’m a Night Raven College student. That means I can play in the tournament, right? Right!?’"

The Classroom “'There's no way that Ramshackle can compete on the same level as our dorm—that’s a crowning moment. Us, being mocked like that? We wouldn’t stand for it.’"

Bakery Day "Yuuya hands over the money he had promised to Ace and Deuce, then lines up for his usual lunch set, alone."

Ruggie in the Cafeteria (pt1) "Yuuya looks over his shoulder to the sight of a skinny boy standing behind him."

Ruggie in the Cafeteria (pt2) "Thinking about it, Yuuya realizes that he can’t recall seeing Japanese food or sweets since coming here."

Ruggie in the Cafeteria (pt3) "Each dorm at Night Raven College has its own distinguishing characteristics."

Ruggie in the Cafeteria (pt4) "‘You mean they have good teamwork?’ Yuuya recalls an earlier conversation with Ace."

The Botanical Garden Scene "Ruggie and Leona are both from Sunset Savanna, with Ruggie coming from a humble upbringing in the slums as a hyaena beastperson, who are generally regarded with contempt."

Riddle and the consequences of overblot "When Riddle enters the Mirror Chamber, the other dorm leaders cast open and obvious glances his way. It has been like this ever since that day."

Leona and the Housewarden Meeting "‘Remember. What was it like two years ago? Last year? How did it feel to be used as a stepping stone to showcase the power of Lord Malleus Draconia?"

Riddle on Leona: The Housewarden Meeting "'I don’t really mind putting him in the Hall of Fame,’ says the Ignihyde Housewarden in an unenthusiastic tone over his speaker."

Yuuya and Grim's Club "Yuuya and Grim were told by the headmage that they would both have to choose the same club."

Crowley's Request (pt1) "As Yuuya listens to the ghosts' stories from their prime, the doorbell rings."

Crowley's Request (pt2) "‘Actually,’ the headmage begins, his voice turning serious."

Crowley's Request (pt3) "‘But I really don’t think I will be much of any help.’"

Crowley's Request (pt4) "The headmage remains silent—which makes Yuuya nervous—but rather than upset, he seems to be deep in thought."

Meeting Pomefiore (pt1) "Having reached the Hall of Mirrors, Yuuya faces the mirror that, according to Deuce, will lead him to Pomefiore. It is splendid, adorned with a large peacock and framed in its feathers."

Meeting Pomefiore (pt2) "‘You came to see the student of ours who was hurt, did you not? Here he is.’ With a gesture from Rook, a second-year student steps forward."

Trey's Room (pt1) "They knock on the black door, and there is an immediate answer from within."

Trey's Room (pt2) "It seems that, in each dorm, 1st-year students are four to a room with 2nd-year students two to a room and, as a 3rd-year student, you finally get a room to yourself."

Trey's Room (pt3) "‘It looks really painful…’"

Trey's Room (pt4) "‘Things seem a little rough, but it’s good he’s okay,’ Yuuya murmurs to Ace and Deuce, but they do not reply."

Trey's Room (pt5) "‘It was because of Housewarden Rosehearts? What do you mean?’ Deuce asks."

Yuuya in Class "‘We’ve got that strategy meeting at lunch today—Yuu, Grim, you two gotta come, all right? No running off. The Housewarden isn’t mad anymore, so don’t be so freaked out.’"

The accidents befalling Spelldrive players "‘Yuu will come with me.’ ‘Eh? 'Yuu will come with me?’’ Yuuya echoes Riddle’s words back at him with a puzzled look."

Meeting Jade and Floyd (pt1) "'Jade Leech and Floyd Leech, twin second-year students. Jade is vice-housewarden of Octavinelle—he is also in my class.'"

Meeting Jade and Floyd (pt2) "‘Ah!’ A loud call echoes out over the grounds. 'Over there—isn’t that Lil' Goldfish?’"

Meeting Jade and Floyd (pt3) "‘Ah, nice to meet you. I’m…’ ‘Yuu-san, I believe. I have heard of you. It is an honor to meet the new student of the rumors.’"

Meeting Jade and Floyd (pt4) "Yuuya finally understands why Riddle looked so displeased when they first arrived."

Meeting Silver and Lilia (pt1) "Silver is often doing physical training, even on days when he has no club activities."

Meeting Silver and Lilia (pt2) "Silver accepts the towel with a casual ‘thank you,’ and wipes the sweat from his forehead. The birds chirp back, as though in response."

Meeting Silver and Lilia (pt3) "Lilia is as cheerful as he is lively. His sweeping gestures are so mismatched with his small stature that Yuuya cannot help but smile."

Riddle on Malleus "‘Someday, I'd like to ask Malleus-senpai what he thinks makes a good Housewarden.’"

Pre-Practice Match (pt1) “Perhaps it is because they are all so focused, but no one seems to have noticed them yet."

Pre-Practice Match (pt2) "The students who surround Yuuya's group are a mix of beast-people and others, each with impressive physiques and vibrant yellow shirts—the dorm color—stretched tight over their muscles."

Pre-Practice Match (pt3) "Only Ruggie makes a chuckle of sound, jogging to Leona’s side."

Pre-Practice Match (pt4) "Yuuya gives Cater a hopeful glance, but Cater’s expression is surprisingly stern."

Pre-Practice Match (pt5) "‘Shi-shi-shi!’ Ruggie laughs like air is escaping from him—a unique sound."

Spelldrive Practice Match (pt1) "Deuce is about to respond when suddenly both he and Ace are enveloped in light, their school uniforms transforming into their gym clothes."

Spelldrive Practice Match (pt2) "Colliding with another player Deuce tumbles onto the ground, but quickly regains his feet. Yuuya breathes a sigh of relief."

Spelldrive Practice Match (pt3) "'This has got to be a joke. You mocking me?’ Leona asks, lifting one hand and forming it into a fist."

Spelldrive Practice Match (pt4) "As Cater says, the unity of the Savanaclaw students—led by Leona—is overwhelming."

Spelldrive Practice Match (pt5) "Spelldrive is a timed sport, and a considerable amount of time still remains."

Leona and Jack (pt1) "It was three years ago, when Jack was still in middle school."

Leona and Jack (pt2) "‘The important thing isn’t how hard you try. It’s the result. Results are everything.’"

Leona and Jack (pt3) "Filled with frustration and sorrow, Jack clenches his hands into fists and leaves to return to the dorm, in silence."

Meeting Malleus (pt1) "‘Who's there?’ ‘Ah—' Suddenly, a voice from the darkness."

Meeting Malleus (pt2) "Yuuya quickly drops his eyes. Regardless of what those horns might be, it must be uncomfortable for one to have their physical attributes stared at in such a manner. Perhaps he has been rude."

Naming Malleus (pt1) "‘—and I guess it’s because I was so surprised, but I didn’t get any sleep at all last night.’"

Naming Malleus (pt2) "'The only reason you can say that is because you’ve never met Hornton.’"

Cafeteria Meeting "Cater is seated next to Riddle. Deuce sits beside him and asks, 'Clover-senpai isn’t with you?'"

Meeting Jamil and Kalim (pt1) "‘Why Jamil, Kalim. I did not expect to see you in the cafeteria.’"

Meeting Jamil and Kalim (pt2) "‘Information gets around quickly.’ ‘We just so happened to hear about it. May we bother you for the details?’ In response to Riddle’s inquiry, Jamil narrows his eyes."

Meeting Jamil and Kalim (pt3) "Jamil waits in silence for the conversation to pause, and then continues once more."

Riddle and Unique Magics "‘It's not something that just anyone can do. But the foundation for unique magic often lies in common, basic spells. A mage takes those spells and combines or improves upon them as needed.'"

Grim's Realization (pt1) "‘Magic that can control other people's movements? Man, if I had a unique magic as convenient as that, I'd be controlling the teachers to make every day a self-study day.’"

Grim's Realization (pt2) "‘…Cay-kun thinks Grim might be on to something here.’"

Ruggie Escape (pt1) "Though Yuuya had been hoping that their last class of the afternoon would somehow never end, today it concluded exactly on time."

Ruggie Escape (pt2) "With everyone situated Cater begins with, ‘Let’s get straight to it. Ruggie-kun, do you know anything about this?’"

Ruggie Escape (pt3) "As Riddle does not know the nature of Ruggie’s unique magic, he will need to make the first move."

Ruggie Escape (pt4) "Ace and Deuce immediately look down at their own breast pockets—their magical pens are gone."

Ruggie Escape (pt5) "They are attracting onlookers, now, who further trip up Grim and the others."

About Riddle (pt1) "‘I kinda envy you though, being able to respect your housewarden like that.’"

About Riddle (pt2) "‘Ah!’ Deuce suddenly exclaims aloud, looking to Yuuya for support."

Riddle and Jack (pt1) "‘You have deduced Ruggie Bucchi’s unique magic?’"

Riddle and Jack (pt2) "The look on Deuce’s face seems to say, 'Now you bring this up, after all of that?’"

Riddle and Jack (pt3) "‘It’s just like Yuu says. You haven’t gotten anywhere, and you’re just going to keep repeating what you've been doing like some kind of moron?’"

Riddle and Jack (pt4) "‘I will keep it brief,’ Riddle continues without the slightest shift in his expression."

Savanaclaw Dorm (pt1) "Ruggie had only intended to pass through the lounge, but he is stopped by Leona calling out to him."

Savanaclaw Dorm (pt2) "Ruggie has always suspected that the sharp contrasts between Leona’s reactions are one of the ways in which he manipulates others."

Savanaclaw Dorm (pt3) "‘Heh. Celebrating already, when you’ve barely got claws in your prey.’"

Jack and Yuuya "First-year student, Jack, has been selected to play for Savanaclaw."

Meeting Azul (pt1) “'Oh my, is that Jack Howl of Savanaclaw?’"

Meeting Azul (pt2) "‘My name is Azul Ashengrotto, and I am honored to be the housewarden of Octavinelle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’"

Leona Collared "Leona fights to remove the collar by force, his hair whipping about his face in his violent struggle."

Facing down an overblotting Leona, Riddle has a confession to make "Riddle confronts the glowering Leona with determination. ‘I am not mocking you. Leona-senpai. I respected you.’"

Leona and Lilia "Riddle is already looking ahead. He has his regrets and his turmoil, but he still continues on the path of becoming a good housewarden."

Leona's Unique Magic (pt1) "From somewhere comes a low voice. At first Yuuya cannot tell who it is, but looking around him he notices Ruggie, his eyes dark and shimmering."

Leona's Unique Magic (pt2) "Yuuya looks up at the sky in a daze, and then feels something tickle at his ankle. Gently moving sand is pricking at his skin."

Leona and Ruggie, to overblot (pt1) "‘Leona-san, what are you thinking!?’ Ruggie steps in front of Leona. ‘Why would you use your unique magic like this…if you keep going—‘ ‘Why?’ Leona interrupts. 'Obviously, it’s to shut you all up.’"

Leona and Ruggie, to overblot (pt2) "‘Right, Ruggie? I really can't stand people who don't listen. I thought you would've figured that out by now. You're skilled at reading people's moods and selling them flattery, after all.’"

The Transformation "‘It is you who should be silent!’ Lilia shouts."

Cater and Yuuya "'Ruggie is lying nearby. Yuuya wraps one of Ruggie’s arms around his shoulders and Grim attempts to take a share of Ruggie’s weight by grabbing onto his thin waist, but the limp body weighs them down."

Ruggie Wakes Up "Jack's agile wolf body slides across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and dirtying his fur. Leona gives him a cold, piercing glance."

The Overblot Battle "Columns of sand rise up and advance towards Ruggie and the others, engulfing everything in their path."

Leona and Falena "From the moment I was born, there’s been a boulder on top of me that’s too heavy to move."

Post-Overblot Leona (the flashback monologue) "I grew tired of thinking, so I decided to enroll at Night Raven College, though I had no interest in it. I knew I was just running away from the pain, but my heart felt lighter, nonetheless."

Jack and Leona (pt4) "‘All this messing around. We don’t have time for this!’ Released from Ruggie’s unique magic, Leona rubs against his reddened cheeks and raises his eyes."

Trusting Riddle "In the very front row, Riddle puts a hand to his mouth as he shouts, ‘What are you getting despondent over? Defeat Leona-senpai, beat the crap out of him!’ The normally refined Riddle swings his fist around."

The Exhibition Match (pt1) "The disc passes to Deuce as he races down the side of the field. Deuce is not as skilled as Ace, but he has stamina, and he is fast on his feet. He effortlessly overtakes the grouped players of Yuuya and the others, steadily advancing towards the goal."

The Exhibition Match (pt2) "With a glance for the ghosts who come for him, Leona sharply calls out, ‘Jack!’"

The Exhibition Match (pt3) "Ruggie and Jack rush to Leona, who has fallen to his knees, his hands flat on the ground."

Yuuya Knocked Out Grim is called over, the ghosts are gathered, and Yuuya huddles with Ace and Deuce to set the strategy for their next move.

Cheka (pt1) "‘Unca, I finally found you!’ Something bounces like a ball into the infirmary."

Cheka (pt2) "Cheka looks to Jack with his large, round eyes, only to turn abruptly about and go to hug Leona again."

Cheka (pt3) "'Perhaps realizing that he is being laughed at, Cheka looks around the room with a curious look."

#twstnovel #twstnovel2 #twisted wonderland

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haphazardlyannotated · 1 year

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Steven Universe told from the perspective of other characters

Garnet: A story of gay empowerment from start to finish. As a book it would be titled either Made of Love or Stronger Than You and feature Garnet's gauntlets with her wedding rings on them as cover art.

Amethyst: A seemingly wacky coming of age story that drops the most heartfelt moments when your guard is down. The cover resembles kids' detective stories, the kind where the whole gang is looking around for clues to the mystery.

Pearl: Everything up to Rose's death is an ancient literary classic titled The Ballad of Rose Quartz, illustrated with intricate inkbrush paintings. Steven Universe season one to three is the kind of introspective life after tragedy novel you pick up to look sophisticated reading. It's probably titled Without Her or something similiar. I don't have a title for season four and onwards, but the blurb is "it's not easy to manage twenty girlfriends, two life partners, a son and a dark past at the same time!" It's much more lighthearted than the previous two, but still prone to punching you in the emotions with little warning.

Connie: A magical adventure series just like the Unfamiliar Familiar! It centers Steven the magical boy with his best friend and eventual love interest Connie as the female lead. The tone gets a little darker after the first book/season, but less so than the original Steven Universe (let alone Steven Universe Future).

Greg: First a coming of age story, but unlike Amethyst this one is about breaking away from toxic people in your life. This story gets its happy ending when Greg finally finds someone he can be himself with in Rose. The time until Rose's death is a romantic comedy titled My Girlfriend, her Girlfriend and Me and conists mostly of shenanigans. After Rose's death and Steven's birth, it turns into something more bittersweet centering Greg's worries about being an adequate father to his magical son.

Peridot: It's titled How I learned to stop worrying and join the Rebellion and is easily the most lighthearted installment here. Our dorky protagonist is very obviously a somewhat unreliable narrator, but in a funny way. She encounters a few struggles, but they are quickly overcome with the power of friendship.

Lapis: This is just multiple whump fics. They're in a collection titled Bad Things Happen Roulette. Steven Universe the Movie is a pretty standard fantasy adventure with a group of powerful heroes though, and Steven Universe Future is the fluff fic with a smidge of angst you'd read as a pick me up after Bad Things Happen Roulette.

Bismuth: The war is a good vs evil sci-fi story with lots of social commentary. The Diamonds are definitely irredeemable here. I don't know what to do with the few episodes of the original Steven Universe she was in, but the movie is an empowerment narrative against systemic oppression titled Still Standing, or something in that style. Steven Universe Future however is a romantic comedy.

Rose: This is just a straight (well, bi) up tragedy. Our protagonist desperately tries to recover from her childhood trauma and be a good person, but is ultimately unable to escape the prison of her own mind. The book wins several literature prizes, but very few people actually read it because it's just too depressing.

#su #steven universe #su garnet #su amethyst #su pearl #connie maheswaran #su peridot #su lapis #su bismuth #su rose quartz #garnet #amethyst #pearl #peridot #lapis #bismuth #rose quartz

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roonilwazlibimagines · 9 months

Text

annoying - d.m x female!reader

Blurb: draco will never beat the annoying allegations, because he is annoying, but he is also romantic or the three times draco was annoying but the three times he made it up to her or just like really fluffy draco malfoy stuff

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: I FORGOT TO SAY THAT THIS IS NOT SMUT BUT IT IS VERY SUGGESTIVE AND INVOLVES NUDITY IM SORRY BUT LIKE VERY MUCH 16+

A/N: this started as a list of things i thought draco malfoy would do as a boyfriend but it turned into this and i made them married because they're traditional!! and they would not live together before marriage!! and i wanted them to live together for this!! in hindsight i could have written around it but i wrote this by the pool and it didn't occur to me then!! i will not change it now!!

ps. in my mind this is with potter!daughter but there was no mention of other potters so i didn't force it, but if you would like to read draco x potter!daughter please check this tag or come talk to me about them because i am obsessed with them!

Masterlist

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“I’d say,” she tapped her finger to her lip, noticing the blonde boy hanging on her every word, “annoying,” she said with a confident finality.

“What?” She had to stop the amused expression she would normally wear, trying to convince her astounded husband that she was being serious. “You’re so full of shit.”

She gasped.

“You’re literally proving my point.” He rolled his eyes and manoeuvred his body to grab onto her hips and pull her towards him.

“Take it back.” He was peppering kisses all over her neck making her let out a traitorous giggle. But she refused to deny it.

It had started less than five minutes earlier. It was well past eleven at night and the young, newly wed couple were still in that stage where neither necessarily wanted to sleep, still fascinated with the idea of being married and wondering what differences came with it.

Draco was reading a new book that she had bought because the blurb sounded like something he would like and she was writing something down in her notebook, being extra careful not to get ink in the bed. Again.

When she suddenly put her quill down, a thump eliciting from the force of it landing on the paper, Draco didn’t even finish the sentence he was on before he dogeared the page he was on and put the novel on his lap to look at the pretty girl slouched next to him.

“If you could describe me in one word, what would it be?”

“Beautiful,” he replied without an ounce of hesitation. She rolled her eyes, copying his actions with her own notebook and placing it on the bedside table with the quill that managed to keep its ink where it was meant to be.

“You’re flattering me,” she turned her head back towards, “tell me the truth.”

“I am,” he insisted, also placing his book on his side so he could reposition himself to look at her properly. Her pyjamas were hanging loosely over her body and she had various strands falling out of her ponytail framing her face that was ever so slightly starting to puff up due to the late hour. But Draco was telling the truth.

“Alright, well give me another.”

Draco thought about this one for a second, trying to find a word that suited her but would also appease her interest.

She stared up at him as he hummed to himself. His hair was dishevelled and his t-shirt clung onto his biceps in a way that forced her to focus on the words leaving his pretty lips.

“Strong-willed.”

“Interesting,” she hummed, having a feeling that he was trying to say something to get a reaction out of her. Well, a reaction was what he was going to get.

“Well, if I had to describe you in one word,” she paused noticing how he quirked up slightly at that, “I’d say…” and that was how she ended up being trapped by his arms, victim to his kisses and fingertips digging into the flesh on her sides.

“I’m not annoying, love.” He said, finally loosening his grip on her, but when she made no effort to move he kept his arm draped loosely over her hips, keeping her back pushed against his chest.

“Lies,” she basically hissed the word at him leaving him with a cocky smirk that she had to strain her neck to see.

Because he was annoying.

It was literally just this morning that he had annoyed her.

“Draco,” her voice echoed throughout the house and Draco put down his spoon to yell back, “What?”

He was at the dining table, eating a second breakfast, and he swallowed his cereal as he heard her footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“Did I leave my lip balm down there?” Her voice was slightly less loud as she made her way to him, confident she had left it on the table when they ate breakfast together. Or, Draco’s first breakfast together.

Draco’s eyes didn’t take long to land on the cylinder, stood up right in front of where his pretty wife had been sitting minutes ago. He quickly snatched it into his hand, securing it in his palm before she appeared in front of him.

“Haven’t seen it,” he mumbled, grabbing his spoon in his free hand to shove more cereal in his mouth, hoping it would prevent him from giving himself away.

“Really?” She asked, making her way over to the kitchen, “I could’ve sworn I left it here.” He could hear her moving around various objects and sighing when she gave up and moved to the living room.

“It’s literally just a white cylinder, are you sure you haven’t seen it?” She made her voice louder to reach him from the other room where he could hear her rummaging around the lounge, no doubt seeing if it had fallen into one of the many crevices. Why? He wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been there this morning.

“I know what your lip balm looks like,” he replied moodily. He heard her huff and when he looked back up from his bowl she was standing in front of him. Good to see she could be quiet when she wanted to be.

“You have it.”

“What?” Draco dropped his spoon again, said lip balm burning a hole through his palm.

“You have it.” And within seconds she was directly in front of him. But Draco was quicker and he had risen to his full height, putting his traitorous hand behind him as his chair made a loud scraping noise against their floor.

“Show me your hand.” She moved to grab his hand hiding behind his back but he turned so she couldn’t reach.

“You need to work on your reflexes, babe.”

“You need to stop acting like a child, babe,” she mimicked.

She had her hands folded across her chest, hoping to catch him by surprise when she made to move again.

He was looking down at her with a horrid smirk, her squinted eyes and downward curve of her lips only serving to make it stronger.

“Give it to me,” she whined, suddenly making a move to grab it. Draco had let his guard down ever so slightly, distracted by her pretty face and this time when she went to grab it, her fingers brushed his knuckle.

But Draco needed to make sure she couldn’t reach it so this time, his arm went above his head and he knew it was the right move when she whined once more, “Draco.” She dragged out the last vowel of his name and made a slight movement that looked like her stamping her foot in the ground in annoyance.

“Why are you like this?”

Draco only shrugged his shoulders, making her huff as she brought her arms around her chest once more.

When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

“I’m not going to beg for it.”

“But you sound so pretty when you do.” She scoffed at him and his stupid smirk and his stupid lanky height that meant there was no way for her to reach it without jumping. And even that would be a stretch.

“Draco Malfoy, I swear-“ but she never finished because he got an awful twinkle in his eye when she said his full name and she wasn’t having it. She took a step towards him and reached to the very tip of her toes to try and grab it.

Her hand only reached his wrist.

“You’re such a child.” She groaned, straining to reach even further. Draco brought his head back slightly to look at her determined face trying to and grab the lip balm, still secure in his palm.

She gave up trying to reach and instead wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tried with all her might to drag it down.

She let out a soft groan that made Draco chuckle.

“Maybe if you’d ask nicely I’d give it to you.”

Draco was sure the devil himself had taken the place of his pretty wife with the dirty look he was on the receiving end of.

“Draco,” she said, dropping her hold on his wrist and taking the tiniest of steps back.

“Yes, my love.”

“Can I please have my lip balm?” Her voice was steady and Draco knew that she was fighting her own mind not to scream and shout until she got her way.

“Well, because you asked so nicely.” He dropped his hand, but still put it behind his back as he lent down to press a soft kiss to her pouting lips.

When he pulled back she was giving him an impatient look, her palm out, waiting for him to give it back to her.

Still smirking, he put it in her hand, quickly pulling his hand away when her fingers wrapped around it and she snatched it away. Huffing as she made her way back up the stairs.

“A thank you would be nice,” Draco yelled out, going back to his soggy cereal and chuckling when a string of profanities floated all the way to his ears.

She was quick to remind him of this incident now that they were in bed and Draco still stood by the fact that he was not annoying.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that was annoying,” he argued, with her back still against his chest. She rolled her eyes, grateful that he couldn’t see.

“I would.”

“I was just teasing,” he insisted and she scoffed. “You know I would’ve given it back to you.”

He was partially right, he did like to tease her, but teasing her was annoying.

It was only that weekend that that had gone to a house party with some friends from high school. Everyone was taking advantage of the summer months, and most of them were sitting outside, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon without the sun blaring down on them.

She had been inside for the last hour or so, trying to avoid any red flesh and catching up with some old friends, but when the noticed the guilty star had left the sky, they started to make their way out.

She noticed immediately that there weren’t going to be enough chairs, so she happily made her way over to Draco and sat on his lap.

He was halfway through a conversation with someone and even though he didn’t explicitly acknowledge her presence, he still manoeuvred his body so she could make herself comfortable. And once she stopped wriggling all over him, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She was happy sitting there, sipping her drink, laughing at whatever her friends said, and enjoying the way the scent of her boyfriend overtook her senses.

Halfway through one of their stories she felt something crawling on her arm and with a quiet groan she twitched in Draco’s lap, flicking the intruder away.

“What’s wrong, lovey?” Draco bent down to whisper in her ear so as not to disrupt the conversation and draw attention to them.

“The bugs are eating me alive,” she huffed, repositioning herself so she was half draped over his lap.

“Can’t blame them,” he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, “you taste so good.”

She gave him an unimpressed look and the edge of his lips quirked up in a familiar smirk before their attentions went back to the conversation.

Every now and then she’d twitch whenever a crawling trespasser appeared on her skin. Each instance followed by a huff and a sigh from the pretty girl resting on Draco’s lap.

Draco was trying his best to defend his girlfriend, removing his hand from her waist to wave it around anytime a bug even dared to look at her and keeping a loose arm around her so she could wriggle and swat away whenever she pleased. But for some reason, the bugs had chosen his pretty girl to annoy tonight, and no one was as in tune with her annoyance as he was.

That’s why he thought what he was about to do was risky. She was already annoyed, but it wasn’t at the hands of him, so he figured he’d do it anyway.

When the conversation had started to die down and people turned to the others around them, starting their own private conversations, Draco turned down to his wife and started a conversation with her.

She was happily chatting away, and Draco was listening intently. He promised. But when she got towards the end of her sentence and took a breath, Draco purposefully furrowed his eyebrows together.

He noticed immediately the increase of diameter of her pretty eyes and the way she froze ever so slightly in his lap.

“What’s that?” He asked, flicking his head up in the direction of her own.

“What’s what?” Her voice had risen an octave and Draco was glad the rest of the group were talking over each other loud enough to drown her out.

“That,” Draco said again, subtly taking his hand away from the valley of her spine. “I think,” he paused and got the desired effect with the look of fright she was giving him, “there’s a,” she was frozen on his lap, “a bug on you.” And as he finished the world’s longest sentence his fingertips found her neck and a tiny squeal left her lips as she contorted her body into his, naive to think she’d find safety with him.

She could feel his whole body shake as he let out a strong laugh, his arms returning around her waist and locking her into his grasp as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I hate you so much.”

Draco could feel her pulse and he almost felt bad for causing her such annoyance, but when she strained her neck to frown at him, a hard crease between her pretty eyes, he couldn’t help the boyish smirk that enveloped his face.

“Liar,” he retorted, not missing the way she clung to him when she thought there was danger.

“I apologised for that,” Draco whined, now in bed. Similarly pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she recalled just how annoying his teasing was.

He did feel bad for it. He didn’t think it would upset her that much. He just wanted to upset her slightly.

“Still annoying,” she grumbled, refusing to look back up at him.

“C’mon,” Draco continued, a tinge of a whine tainting his tone, “you love being teased.”

She rolled her eyes at his poor attempt of a double entendre.

But this time he was telling the truth.

It was only last week when this had occurred.

They had only been married for a couple of months after almost a year of being engaged, but their house was in the works the second Draco proposed to her so they would have somewhere to go when a permanent gold band rested where their fourth finger on their left hand came in contact with the knuckle.

Draco was at her house, going over the plans to ensure she was happy with anything. She was listening. Partly. She trusted Draco.

"Oh," he added as well, knowing that he didn't have her complete attention, "we also have to decide if we want a pool."

"Obviously," she scoffed, knowing by the way that the corner of his mouth tugged upward that he was just trying to get her involved.

Because Draco knew he wanted a pool, and he was glad for it when they woke up to the sun peaking through their window, waking them up and inviting them to join it outside while they played in the pool.

Draco was already in, unbothered by the wait of his pretty wife who took slightly longer to get ready. And the wait was worth it when she came out in a two-piece which Draco really thought was an overstatement considering how little of her was covered.

She swayed her hips on purpose, noticing the slight part in her husband's pretty lips, doing a faux pose when she reached the pool that made Draco clear his throat.

"You look good."

"I know," she beamed at him cheekily, throwing her towel on the chair next to his and tying her hair up in a high bun. "I'm not in the mood to get my hair wet today, I'm too lazy to wash it."

Draco didn't say anything, but she didn't give it a second thought knowing that his eyes were preoccupied.

Draco floated over to the stairs as she made her way in, letting out a little squeal as her feet touched the first step.

"It's so cold!"

"You can't be serious." Draco let out a small chuckle as she placed her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm very serious, Draco," she whined, finding the courage to go to the next step.

It was up to her calves, and she was going against the water as she kicked her legs out, trying to acclimatise to the new temperature.

Draco, already knowing he consequences of his actions, placed his hands in the water and flicked it over at her.

"Draco!" She had put her hands out in a poor attempt to save herself from his attack and bent a leg up towards herself in some sort of defence.

He laughed.

"Stop being such a baby." She gave him a pout that very much reminded him of a baby.

But she took no note of her husband’s rude comments and instead put her hands in the water to splash him back.

“C’mon, yours was much bigger than mine.” Draco rolled his eyes, running a hand through his now wet hair and putting his hands back in the water.

“Draco Malfoy if you dare-”

She was already folding in on herself, but she never felt the splash or got to finish her statement because Draco had cut her off.

“C’mon darling, I promise I won’t splash you if you just get in.”

She put her hands down slowly, not sure how much she should trust the blonde haired boy giving her a sly grin.

“I don’t trust you,” she said, her actions betraying her words as she took another step down. It reached just above her bottom piece and Draco heard her take a sharp breath in as a couple of goosebumps erupted on her lotioned skin.

One more step to go.

“I promise I won’t splash you.” He had an odd look of sincerity on his face, but she made sure to keep eye contact with him as she placed her hands in the water and brought them to the tops of her shoulders in an attempt to let her body become familiar with the cool liquid.

She went to the next step. She took in a shaky breath, moving on the spot in a hurried motion to try to bring some warmth to her body.

“One more step, love, c’mon.” Draco opened his arms in an attempt to get her into his embrace.

“I swear, Draco, if you splash me,” she trailed off, letting her foot fall off the last step and pushing her body towards his arms.

He grabbed onto her, his hands roaming around her hips as he bent his head down to press a kiss to her pretty lips.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling away with a slight breathlessness, “you’ll what?” He lent back to kiss her, unashamed, he knew he was in trouble the second he saw her enter the backyard in her little bikini that didn’t leave a lot to his imagination.

“I-I’ll,” she forced herself to pull away even though she wanted nothing more than to kiss her pretty husband until their skin shrivelled from the water. But Draco had other plans, because when she was looking at him, a soft look in her eyes from the way he had kissed her, he decided this was the perfect time.

His fingers locked around her waist and the last thing he saw was her pretty eyes widen as he pulled her under the water with him.

He knew he’d never hear the end of it the second he brought them to the surface and she let out a couple of dramatic coughs.

“Are you trying to kill me?” She shrieked, blinking the water out of her eyes and pushing his shoulders ever so slightly with the butt of her palm. His arms were still locked around her waist and he had no intention of letting go.

All he did was laugh in response, flicking his blonde hair out of his eyes and leaning down to pepper kisses all over her slimey face. All he could taste was her sunscreen and she kept twisting in his grasp and trying to pull her face away from him, but he continued his attack bravely.

“Hey,” he said, letting out a chuckle despite the grumpy look on her pretty face, “I only promised not to splash you.”

She wanted to scream. Instead, she splashed him back.

“Well, I never promised not to splash you.” She said indignantly in a way that reminded Draco of a child.

“Ah,” he said, much too arrogantly for her taste, “is that how you want to play?” He removed his hands around her waist to splash at her, but even though she knew what was coming, she didn’t step away from him.

“Nuh uh,” she whined, turning her head to avoid the water coming into contact with her face, “you promised you wouldn’t splash me.”

“Well, I take it back.” It was then she decided that she hated Draco’s height. She used to admire it, loved how he towered over almost anyone in any room. But now, she came to realise that his arms were much too long, because before she even got the chance to splash him back he had reached out and grabbed onto her hips, pulling her closer to him and bringing her with him under the water once more.

This time she gave him a good shove on the shoulder while they were under the water, but she wondered if Draco even noticed with the way his hands were squeezing her hips and grabbing at her flesh.

It was only when he brought them to the surface that she realised he was trying to find the string keeping her bikini bottom up and once again, she cursed his long fingers for quickly untying the double knot.

“Draco!” Her hands left his shoulders to grab onto her swimmers before Draco got any other ideas, but Draco was quick and in one swift movement he grabbed both of her hands in his.

She wriggled against him, but movement only made the swimmers pull away from her skin so instead she gave him a defeated look.

He was laughing manically, his chest rumbling at her predicament and the pretty pout that was gracing her pretty lips.

In another swift movement he turned her around so her back was against his chest and her hands were still locked up in Draco’s large hand jail, but the movement was not her friend because with his other free hand, Draco had grabbed the traitorous bottom and thrown it out of the pool, quick to bring it to the front and give her top the same treatment.

He was taking his time, kissing all over her neck, trying to get her to succumb to his pleasures, but she was strong-willed and it was only the way her voice gave a slight tremble at the end of her sentence that gave her away.

“You’re so annoying.”

Draco was now kissing her neck in a similar fashion, but she wasn’t going to give in.

“Thought you liked it then?” He teased, his voice low from the late hour and soft due to their proximity.

“I mean it was alright.” Draco could tell by the slight quiver of her voice and lack of comeback that his little neck kisses were getting to her.

“Do you want to try another word, darling?”

But while the kisses may have softened her, she was still able to respond with, “romantic.”

Because he was.

The only reason she was looking for her lip balm was because he was taking her out for lunch.

And when she came down, all dressed up for him, she twirled on the spot, loving the soft look in his eyes compared to the mischievous twinkle he had worn trying to get a reaction out of her.

They were sitting across from each other and when she rested her hand on the table, Draco took it in his own and neither arm was strong enough to move from its position.

While they waited for the server to come over, she used her free hand to rifle through her bag and when she found the desired lipstick and started putting it on, Draco squinted his eyes at her.

“What?”

“I want to ask you a question.” She gave a seconds pause before putting her lipstick away and facing her pretty husband.

“I’m scared.”

He disregarded her comment and asked, “what’s in your bag?”

“My bag?” She gave him a confused look, losing the warmth of his palm as she grabbed her bag for a second time. The very expensive bag Draco had bought for her only a month or so ago because she had made a trivial comment about how pretty it was when they first walked past it.

She opened it and showed it to him, he was her husband, she had nothing to hide.

Draco liked what he saw. Lipstick, a little mirror, the perfume she usually wore in a small cylindrical glass, and the lip balm he had teased her about this morning.

“What if I forgot the card at home?” he chuckled, his smile only intensifying at the confused look on his pretty girl’s face.

“The credit card?”

“What other card, darling?” The smirk on his face told her he was telling a fib, but she still asked, “did you?”

She never got her response though as the server politely interrupted the conversation, causing her to close her bag back up and listen to Draco repeat what she had told him she wanted from the menu.

The fact that he was ordering told her all she needed to know about the card situation, but she still continued the conversation as if there had been no interruption.

“In all honesty, I stopped bringing money with me after, like, our second month of going out.”

This made Draco let out a laugh that was an inappropriate volume given their surroundings, but the couple didn’t notice.

When Draco calmed down, he put his hand back on the table and she reached out to hold onto it.

“Good,” he said, bringing their intertwined hands towards him to press a row of soft kisses along her knuckles.

When he had frightened her over the bug situation, he kissed and doted on her the rest of the afternoon, feeling bad that he had upset her so greatly.

When her cup was empty he placed her on his seat and went inside to fill it back up for her. Lifting her back onto his lap when he returned.

When they arrived home he had her silk robe waiting for her the second her foot stepped out of the shower and he happily had her sit on the edge of the bathtub as he completed her skincare.

“You know,” she said, giving him the saddest look she could muster, “I was so scared when you pretended there was a bug on me, it really tired me out, I don’t think I can do my skincare.” He let out a large scoff, even though she was still frowning, giving him a faux innocent look with her silk robe wrapped tightly around her.

“C’mere,” he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub but reached out to grab her fingertips, bringing her closer to him so he could sit her on the edge next to him, “you big baby.”

And even after he played with her pretty hair until she fell asleep, he still felt bad. He let out a sigh as he begrudgingly got out of the comfortable bed and once he was outside of their room he called for the house elf and instructed him to get a bunch of her favourite flowers before they woke up.

Draco found that he fell asleep quite easily after he had settled that matter and his arms were wrapped around the waist of his pretty wife.

But he was disgruntled when he woke up hours later to find said pretty wife sitting on the edge of the bed, a small white card in her hand that he assumed belonged to the bunch of her favourite flowers that the house elf had delivered.

He lazily trailed his fingertips down her spine, enjoying the way she jolted at his touch.

“Come back to bed, lovey.” When she put the card down and turned around she found Draco’s arm sprawled out to the side from where he had let it linger on her skin. His eyes were still closed and his hair was sticking on his forehead.

She leant over to smooth it away from his pretty face and when he brought his arm back up she gingerly found her way back to him, his arm coming back down the second he was satisfied she was comfortable.

And it was after they christened the pool that she started to whine about her wet hair.

“I told you I didn’t want to wash it.” Draco wished he had a couple more minutes before her attitude came back, but was quick to remember he was the reason she was in a mood and so he kept that thought to himself.

She was behind him while Draco swam to the edge to receive the two pieces he had meanly thrown out of reach.

“I’m not getting them,” she had scoffed at his reply when she said she needed her swimmers back to which Draco pointed to the edge of the pool where they were sprawled haphazardly. “I’m naked,” she whispered as if it was a sin worse than what had just occurred in their own swimming pool.

“I’ll wash it for you,” he grumbled throwing her swimmers at her. She wasn’t quick enough to grab them so they floated on the surface of the water. She picked up the bottoms and started tying the knots in the appropriate places.

“Really?” She asked, Draco already swimming back to her, picking her top up and redoing the knots he had cruelly untied moments before.

“Of course my love.”

And that was how she found herself sitting in between his legs, warm water filling their bathtub with rose petals tickling her calves and the smoke of a coconut candle making its way into her nose.

She let out a hum as Draco’s fingertips circled her scalp. She let her head fall back so she could look up at him and he was quick to place a quick kiss on her forehead before gently pushing her head up so he could continue his service.

“You spoil me.” Draco liked when she whined and pouted and screeched whenever he found a new way to annoy her, but more than anything he loved the content in her tone knowing that he would always look after her. No matter how much he annoyed her.

“Romantic sounds better,” Draco hummed, leaning down to press some more kisses along her jaw.

But she was brave and she pulled away so she could turn around and face her lovely husband.

She ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in a way that brought a grin to what Draco thought was her precious face.

How lucky she was, really, to have such a beautiful husband. Who, despite his teasing, made sure that she was treated like royalty. Who would never let her worry about a single thing if he had his way and who made sure she knew he loved her, even if he liked to annoy her. Who called her beautiful even when she called him annoying.

“And handsome,” she whispered, bringing her hand to his soft cheek, not missing the way he leaned into her touch, “so handsome.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy fluff #dm #dmi #dmf #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter blurb #hp #hp imagine #hp blurb #hp flufff

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rae-gar-targaryen · 2 years

Note

Why yes, your Honour, I would like to lick Jake Seresin’s abs. Each and every one of them. Trace them with my tongue. If that’s a crime throw me in jail.

Well, congratulations, lovely anon. You've inspired something that no one ever thought possible -- Rae writing for a BLONDE MAN, of all people. Pls enjoy this little blurb. Even though it's probably not the greatest thing I've ever written --

your name (on that coffee cup)

warnings: none, just bad flirting.

pairing: jake jortles "hangman" seresin x fem!civilian reader

word count: 2.3k (you've gotta be fucking kidding me) of sweet, if not stilted, flirtation and whatever the fuck this is...

Reblogs make the world go 'round! 🌿💜

The coffee shop was more crowded than usual today. You supposed it might have something to do with the fact that today, the weather gods had decided that it would be the one, annual rainy day, forcing commuters to seek shelter indoors from the "deluge" (but what you considered to be, at most, a decent sprinkle). Southern Californians were decidedly not built for the rain.

You casually observed the casuals and regulars alike filtering in and out from your chosen table adjacent to the pickup counter. Your usual table, from where you'd set up shop, plinking away at your novel with your playlist and the welcome, muffled bustle of customers as backdrop busy-noise that filtered through your headphones for company.

People-watching was uniquely inspirational whenever you were facing a bit of writer's block, so you had opted for leaving the relative coziness of your nearby apartment – content to perch on at this table and allow the quirks of strangers to serve as fodder for your novel.

Except that today, it was more overstuffed than your favorite blue-velvet chair in your apartment. The queue of bodies waiting for their cups of caffeine and their matcha lattes causing the already-warm interior of the shop to fog the windows.

You'd just finished a particularly troublesome paragraph – How your two stubborn protagonists were ever going to set aside their differences as they made their way through the enchanted wood, you weren't one hundred percent clear on. But sometimes it was best to skip the mental obfuscation and jump straight into a part you were excited to write … their eventual love scene was beckoning you.

You worried your drink's straw between your teeth, eyes unfocused, pondering how to get Ser Marcus out of his shirt and beneath Lady Lucy, when he walked in.

Him.

The tall drink of water with broad shoulders and dirty-blonde hair. With a million-watt smile he graced to whichever barista happened to be handing him his coffee that day.

He looked like a Ken-doll, if you were honest. But not in a bad (junkless) way. More of an All-American, conventionally attractive way, if he'd asked you. Not that he had. You had certainly seen him here before. But you weren't sure the same could be said of him.

You watched idly as he breezed past you to place his order in a damp shirt that was veritably plastered to his torso, and running shoes that squeaked with rainwater, the noise making its way over the dull din of the shop.

Perhaps he'd been out for a run when the rain had started.

He spoke to Monica the barista at the counter, out of earshot, though the easy way he leaned against the counter and smiled at her made it clear he didn't mind his own state of dress. The sort of easy handsome of an Eastwood.

You had turned back to the blinking cursor of your doc, thoughts buzzing with handsomely tanned skin and wet clothes, when the unmistakable shadow of a person loomed over you.

You glanced up, only to be simultaneously thankful for your screen protector and greeted with –

"Hi there," he breezed.

It was Ken. In the perfect plastic flesh.

And, really, it was the fact that his torso was directly in your seated eyeline (and no other reason, you swear) that allowed you to notice (appreciate) that his already-rainwet and plastered shirt hugged his torso in such a way that allowed you to observe (appreciate) that you could see the outline of every. single. one. of his abdominal muscles, as though his shirt was made of flimsy tissue paper that might tear away beneath your touch.

No, this was fine.

"Uhhh." You were articulate, you swear. "Hi."

"Would it be alright if I sat with you while I wait?" He gestured over his shoulder with a pointed thumb vaguely in the direction of the pickup counter. "It's a little crowded in here today, and this is the only open seat."

Ah. An arrangement of convenience, and not that he wanted to sit with you.

You bit down your disappointment long enough to ease your lips into what you hoped resembled a smile, gesturing openly to the seat.

"By all means."

He shot a grateful–if not cheeky– wink your way as he pulled the seat out, angling himself to maintain eye contact with you, while still keeping one ear open for his name.

"Thank you, ma'am," he conceded politely, voice still warm and easy, as though no one had ever refused him a paltry request in his life. (And maybe they hadn't.) "I didn't exactly want to stand there in my wet clothes."

"No," you agreed. "Sitting in wet clothes is much more pleasant. Especially in those tight, Baby Gap-sized t-shirts. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone," he agreed, eyes twinkling and allowing you to appreciate just how green they were, glimmering, verdant and mossy, like the forest bedecked with fresh rainfall. How fortuitous, then, that he'd choose to sit with you on San Diego's one rainy day per year. "Teacher? Grading?" He nodded at your laptop, gem eyes flitting over the fading, curled stickers slapped onto the back.

You couldn't help yourself. You giggled.

"No," you shook your head. "Novelist."

"Ah," he conceded. "So whatcha writing?"

And as you made to open your mouth to tell him that he shouldn't really ask a writer those types of question, he perked, and held up a finger as if to say "hold that thought," as he shot up to retrieve his beverage from the counter.

He must've heard his name. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. You tried not to feel disappointed that your one encounter with hot coffee shop guy had come and gone in the blink of an eye. And tried not to beat yourself up that you hadn't caught the name when it had been called…

To your surprise, he turned back and plopped himself back into the seat opposite you, expectant eyes awaiting your answer as he blew into the small hole at the lid of his coffee cup.

"Ehm," you continued. "It's… a … novel," you finished, lamely. Flushed with the prospect of having to admit to this guy that you wrote high-fantasy erotica for a living, your self-preservation instincts kicking in before you admitted something you wouldn't necessarily have the chance to come back from if he decided to make fun of you for.

And he was ridiculously handsome. The sort of guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of the type of book you were writing, billowing unbuttoned shirt, and all... Maybe he'd pose if you asked?

If he was annoyed or put off by your evasiveness, Ken-doll didn't show it, that million-watt grin easing its way back onto his very pleasing face, prominent jaw and white teeth on full display as he played along.

"I might've guessed," he said. "I'm Jake, by the way."

He held out his hand for you to shake. You responded in kind, allowing his hand to envelop yours with both size and warmth as you pumped your arm in a firm, decided handshake.

"I might've guessed," you parroted.

He shot you a quizzical look; brows furrowed.

"It's on your cup," you nodded in the direction of the cup clutched in his other hand, the corner of your mouth titling into a smile.

"A dead giveaway," he agreed, pleased that you had thought to make the observation. Maybe you were this way with everyone, he thought. All sweet smiles and starry, foxlike eyes, discerning but decidedly available. Selfishly, perhaps — he hoped that wasn't the case.

"Unless of course they had gotten the wrong name, and it's really, like, Jack, or James, or something," the fizzling pleasure of his hand on yours and the swelter of this coffee shop was really doing a number on your head, because now you were rambling. "Then if I had called you Jake based on the cup, I would've been both presumptuous and stupid. Like a 'Mark-with-a-C situation… Cark," you finished, unhelpfully.

"Now that's just unlikely, sweetheart," he disagreed. "You're clearly too sharp for that… Bridget." He squinted at your cup, greeting you with a name that was not your own.

"Oh, no…" you laughed, the pleased sound meeting his ears despite the relative staticky-din of the late-morning rush around him, "My name isn't Bridget," you explained, sheepish about the relative silliness of the game of being friends with one of the workers. "Uh, Monica likes to give me a new name every day I come in. Sort of to mock me for how often I come, I guess? We've known each other awhile. So, she's allowed."

If Jake thought it was childish or silly, he didn't let on, instead nodding and smiling at your explanation, still incomprehensibly interested in what you had to say…

"So that's why I see you in here so often," he conceded. "A novelist who writes in a coffee shop, where she knows everyone. Cute."

Out of any other mouth, it might have sounded condescending. But there was no hint of condescension in his honey-smooth voice. Only the facile twang of Southern charm and genuine earnestness.

But all you heard was that he'd seen you before. He had seen you.

And you must've asked this out loud, because the next thing you knew, he was all smooth laughter and glimmering teeth,

"Yeah, I've seen you," he agreed. "You always look so concentrated, I never want to interrupt. My mama raised me better than that. But today I actually had the chance to say hello. So, uh, thank the rain, I guess…" he eased.

And you'd really hoped that the pleased warmth of flirtatious embarrassment wasn't inclined to show itself in any way, across your face or the exposed skin of your shoulders. Because you were certain those sparkling eyes of his were shrewd enough to tell. And how could a guy like this not be aware of his effect on women? So, you pressed on, closing your laptop lid, the better to focus on him with.

"And what do you do, Jake? If you're out for a run in the rain, you're clearly committed. Let me guess," you tapped your chin in mock-consternation, voice trailing in thought. "Model? Please say no because that would be a lot for me."

Jake barked a laugh at this. And perhaps you'd incidentally, dangerously boosted what was already a high ego. But he continued in good humor –

"No, sweetheart. Not a model. Naval aviator," and he'd actually shrugged at that, like it was no big deal. "I'm at the base down the way. So, yeah, I guess you can say I'm dedicated."

You groaned, teasingly, fucking your head into your arms, "Oh fuck, no. So just a civil servant who looks like a model. You can get the fuck outta here with that." You leaned across the table to teasingly shove one of his (ridiculously sculpted) shoulders, pleased at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

"It's my honor to serve you, ma'am," he straightened in his seat, taking on his best "official" voice. (Oh, god, this was doing a number on you.) He continued,

"In fact, I think you should let me take you to dinner…?" He trailed off, perhaps in realization that he still didn't know your name.

You twisted in your seat to pluck a pen from the messenger bag hanging from the back of your chair, turning back to pluck his cup from his very hands in a move so cheeky you would swear you were having some kind of out-of-body experience. You were never this bold.

But the attentions of this, okay, let's be real… this veritable Adonis before you was likely doing something dangerous to your own ego, never mind his. Your head was somewhere in the clouds (a place he was clearly comfortable, being a "naval aviator, ma'am," and all)..

You tugged the pen cap off with your teeth, your attention fixed on the label.

Huh. Vanilla soy latte.

You didn't comment on his drink of choice, choosing instead to strike through his name with the pen, and ink your own, your phone number printed clearly and neatly beneath it. Handing the cup back to him when you'd finished, recapping the pen as he twirled the cup in his hands to read what you'd put on the label.

He parroted your name back to you, the way his mouth worked out the letters an image you'd likely think about for a little too long, ya know, later... and the sound of it from his throat ringing in your ears.

"I'll text you," he assured, winking at you as he made to stand, rapping his knuckles on the corner of your table before mock-saluting you with two fingers to his forehead and an easy, charming grin on his lips. "I look forward to hearing about that novel over dinner, ma'am."

With that, he walked out of the shop, taking with him the air in your lungs and your certainty that that had actually just happened, and leaving you with the faintly buzzing feeling of lofty flirtation and the blooming promise of a fucking date!

Eager to capitalize on the fizzy feelings, you opened your laptop lid and turned back to your unfinished section now, wan smile borne of fresh flirtation affixed to your lips, your thoughts swimming in a seafoam green ocean of emerald eyes, breezy flirtation, and, yeah, tight t-shirts...

"It was then that Lady Lucy swung her leg astride Ser Marcus, devilish fingers peeling his tunic from his toned stomach. With a smirk painted across her features, she dipped her head, allowing herself to trace her tongue along the ridges and planes of her lover's stomach, reveling in the feel of each prominent abdominal muscle beneath her tongue. Greeted with the delightful sound of her beloved's surprised gasps, manifestations of pleasure at her attentions…"

And no, you reasoned with yourself as you typed. You totally weren't thinking of green-eyed, handsome Jake as you wrote. These desires were your character's, not yours – you swear.

And no, your thoughts also were definitely not on his promised text message, either, that lit up your phone as you glanced at it. Greeted with the proposition of "Dinner Thursday?" No, you totally weren't thinking of him…

It's life that imitates art, after all... (Or was it the other way around?) And you hadn't had the chance to taste those abs for yourself. (But hope springs eternal...)

Tagging: @withahappyrefrain @thegirlwhowritesfics @xbamboowishesx @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @abibliophobiaa @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @thematthewmurdock @mrshipsmcgee @p3mybeloved @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo @vestrangel @moonlight-prose @aphrogeneias @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @2clones-1kamino @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @shakira-sasha @siriusfahey @joaquinwhorres @jakexfmc @the-navistar-carol @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid @maxmayfield @drew-garfi @eagerforthesky

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake 'hangman' seresin x you #my writing #tgm fic #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin imagine #glen powell #glen powell x reader #lovely anons #hangman fluff #jake seresin fluff #isn't it just like me to write for the white boy of the month several months too late #flopcity usa here we come #pls reblog

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okay so here is her review: https://arkadymartine.wordpress.com/2015/09/27/the-traitor-baru-cormorant-a-reviewresponse/

admittedly its from 2015- i haven't poked around to see how she may have changed how she feels about it, and i know she did blurb seth's recent scifi novel (Exordia), so there's no bad blood there or anything. it's also a positive review, in general- she ends with this sentence: "I highly, highly recommend this book; I have not thought so much about something I read in a long time."

i am also coming into this as someone who has read all of seth dickinson's work for the game destiny, where he was near-singlehandedly responsible for a good oh… 80% of the interesting women (& overall interesting concepts lol!) in the game, and his writing of one of those characters in particular as a complex and flawed character got him bullied viciously off of all social media. if you've tried to find his social media presence and havent found anything, that's why. so i mayhaps have a little more emotion in the game.

THAT SAID. here are some specific parts from her review i find really fucking annoying! and color the way i feel about Memory & Desolation, despite them being so incredibly targeted at me as a classics person AND someone who fucking loves the specific sub-genre of scifi her novels are.

"[Traitor] asks a question which I find compelling as a student of an empire and as a queer woman. That question is: what do we gain by complicity? What do we – we barbaroi, we women, we queer people, we imperialized – what do we get when we say yes? When we say yes I will hide my true nature? When we say yes I will subsume myself into the beautiful machine? When we say can we speak English? Or the literature I love just happens to be written by straight white men – and mean it, too, mean it with the kind of depthless love that a person can have for a text that speaks to them, which holds up a mirror to them?"

i dont think the use of the greek word for barbarian does anything here (she also keeps coming back to the greek term orthos in her review, which also pisses me off lol), i dont think empire is a "beautiful machine," and i don't think the invocation of identity politics is useful. like. i know she's a byzantine scholar but if your first association with empire is purely a finite Historical Empire instead of, like, modern US imperialism, or British colonialism, you are going into this discussion with a certain set of values and opinions! a set of values and opinions that let you call an empire a "beautiful machine" in all earnestness. this claim probably seems unsubstantiated and nitpicky now just from this excerpt but ill come back to it with more i promise. on the idpol front, she also says immediately after this that she does believe that straight people can and should write queer people, but that they should listen to queer people when they point out those errors. she then continues:

"But then, critique: there are two points on which I think Dickinson’s portrayal of a queer protagonist has faltered, and I think both of these errors arise from the fact that he isn’t part of – as far as I know at the time of writing this review – a queer community. Firstly, I disbelieve Baru’s awareness of her own desires… …For the first portion of the book, her queerness felt more like a character trait assigned to her for reason of plot than a naturally built part of her as a person… Secondly, I wonder where queer people in Falcrest are…"

theres more to these excerpts, but. i personally didnt find the depiction of baru's desire to be unrealistic, and also this was a review of Traitor, specifically, so where on earth would baru have heard about queer people in falcrest? and more importantly, why should we care so much about queer people in the imperial core? moreover i think the way seth does it with svir is very very well done, and illustrates the hypocrisy of empire in a way that does NOT seem like what martine is asking for here!!!

"Why am I invested? I myself am a student of empire. I’m a Byzantinist. My academic work is about empire and its seductions; it is the animating principle of my professional life. And: I am myself someone who loves order over disorder. Who looks for systems in all things. Who is comforted by structures; who is concerned deeply with propriety. But here’s my real criticism of this book: I don’t buy the seduction of the Masquerade. And I think if this book fails, it’s there: in that its empire is too easily read as undesirable. As profane, unethical, fundamentally wrong. It is really overtly evil." … "The Masquerade isn’t civilized. It’s civilization, but I don’t recognize it as civilized, and this is a problem with a constructed empire. An empire relies on itself as the definition of civilization – I would footnote here Ann Leckie’s Imperial Radch as a SFnal example of an empire which is built on this principle, and which, for this reader at least, achieves the facsimile. (But then my ancestors were not enslaved, we were exterminated; not annexed, but exiled. Perhaps I like the Radch better than the Masquerade because I can find a place for myself in it, and cannot imagine a place within the Masquerade someone like me would ever be safe –)"

and THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE IS MY BIGGEST PROBLEM. critiquing the masquerade as not "seductive" enough, calling it too evil to have people join it- how does someone miss the point THIS badly??? like. are you FUCKING serious??? how do you read a book about the immense violence of colonialism and your problem is that it is boohoo too violent for people to join willingly. google literally fucking anything the US has done ever!!! and the invocation of the concept of "civilized" as an objective quality, despite the recognition that the empire constructs what counts as "civilization" is so fucking unserious/simplistic/juvenile! why do you need to imagine yourself a place in the empire? in the imperial core specifically!

and i think this particular approach bleeds into her books. i read them at Least 2 years ago, so this is mostly vibes-based, and i will avoid spoilers.

there is such a focus on the allure of the imperial core, on the "beautiful machine" of the empire as she calls it. there is violence done, but it is abstracted away from the wealth of the imperial core. there are no economics there. the empire sees her independent station as a backwater, and there is some cultural tensions there, but there is no realistic violence and exploitation! it is not clear at all what maintains the empire, besides some abstract idea of trade. i also don't know what her Point is with the naming & language conventions, which are very clearly inspired in part by ancient Mayan- e.g. the empire and core planet are called Teixcalaan. and idk this may be reductive of me but i think if you are going to pull features from civilizations that have been colonized and use them to inspire fictional colonizing forces, you ARE saying something there! idk! and like, the ancient Mayan

and on the ~representation~ front, i also don't think she does a better job than seth tbqh!!! i felt like the characters getting together came out of nowhere and felt anticlimactic- there is also not the tension i think there should be with the main character being an ambassador-ish and the love interest being… idr. junior intelligence officer iirc? idk! and for all her critique of baru's desire for women not feeling "real" or present enough, i do not remember the main character in Memory having any real focus on it!

i enjoyed Memory just fine, but i don't think it says anything interesting or novel or even critical about empire, and i found her review of Traitor extremely shallow and useless, if very revealing about her own outlook on empire lol!!!

this has been at best Minorly proofread and edited but im not like, writing an academic essay on the matter and so i apologize for any inconsistencies.

oh man thanks for this this is really interesting. i went and read the whole thing and i agree a ton with your critique. i'm going to stick my thoughts below the cut because i went on for a bit here, in typical fashion.

i personally didnt find the depiction of baru's desire to be unrealistic, and also this was a review of Traitor, specifically, so where on earth would baru have heard about queer people in falcrest? and more importantly, why should we care so much about queer people in the imperial core?

NO BUT EXACTLY... for starters this is explicitly a novel about colonized people taking place in a colony where none of the major characters are from the empire. where, when, and how would we take the time to explore what queerness looks like for them and more importantly, like you've asked, why the hell should that be a priority for the narrative in this case.

in terms of 'i found this to be an unrealistic depiction of queer desire' 9/10 times i feel like what that means is 'i found this to be an unrelatable depiction' which is an entirely different critique. i know i'm working with two additional books worth of context that martine isn't working with here. but even taking into account just the characterization we have for baru in traitor i think this is suuuuch an unfair complaint. i'm gonna pull the entire quote she says about baru's sexuality here because i have additional specific gripes with it.

Firstly, I disbelieve Baru’s awareness of her own desires. In the first portion of the book, I do not ever feel the weight of Baru’s own awareness of her sexuality; there is an absence of carnality, a kind of intellectual version of lesbian desire which is, to me, inconsistent with the sort of desire I expect. Not until the introduction of Baru’s eventual lover Tain Hu do I get a sense of Baru as a woman who loves women. Further, considering how very much the Empire of Masks and Increastic philosophy criminalizes the sin of queer desire, I wish Baru had struggled more with the nature of her desire. For the first portion of the book, her queerness felt more like a character trait assigned to her for reason of plot than a naturally built part of her as a person. This markedly improved in the second half, where Baru notices women in a way she does not notice men.

For starters, it is insanely hypocritical to me to complain that her desire both isn't carnal enough and she processes it too intellectually, but that she isn't struggling enough with it. Baru intellectually processes things! That's her entire character from the getgo! She also has a difficult time conceptualizing other people as fully realized beings with their own agency. These character traits paired together don't make for a particularly passionate and carnal relationship to her sexuality. She is also, at her absolute oldest in this book, 21! (Or 22? I can't remember. I know she spends 3 years in aurdwynn) and has spent her entire youth being groomed to be a scholar. Of course detached intellectualism is her primary way of navigating all things. Why wouldn't it be?

Baru primary motivation is to save taranoke, she wants to save the taranoki way of life, and part of that way of life includes an acceptance of nonhetero nonmonogamous relationships. Sure, a different character arc may have involved baru actually internalizing and then having to break free of the trappings of race, gender, and sexuality that the empire tries to impose upon its citizens. but that's not baru and acting like this is a writing flaw rather than a character choice is insane to me.

There's absolutely no reason for Baru to lie awake at night pontificating about how wrong and dirty of her it is to want to have sex with women because we are never lead to believe even for a minute that Baru puts any emotional weight in incrasticism. She doesn't conceptualize it as sinful she conceptualizes it as illegal!

And "Not until the introduction of Baru’s eventual lover Tain Hu do I get a sense of Baru as a woman who loves women. " is killing me in particular because like. Yeah. Tain Hu is baru's first love. thats the point. But beyond that this is just not being able to see anything other than what she's looking for because i think the chapters covering baru's childhood make it pretty clear that her feelings for aminata and cousin lao (im not double checking the name but im pretty sure it was this) are deep and strong. the fact that they're not as explicitly and straightforwardly romantic and sexual as her relationship with tain hu doesn't change that, and in fact, points to baru's struggle with/development of her sexuality that she claims was somehow missing in this book.

like i just simply can't see anything here but someone who is seeing an emotional landscape they can't relate to and assuming that means it's flawed writing. skill issue frankly.

She's also fucking insane for acting like the masquerade is too cartoonishly evil to be appealing. once again im going to post her full quote here because i think its important to see

its empire is too easily read as undesirable. As profane, unethical, fundamentally wrong. It is really overtly evil. It punishes sexual “deviants” with mutilation and death. It murders children callously. It inflicts plague and withholds vaccines. It lobotomizes its own emperors for the sake of convincing its populace that the emperor is just. Most of all, the Masquerade is a eugenicist empire: it is explicitly founded on not purity of bloodline but on purification of bloodline, on making people useful to it. It makes people: it breeds them carefully, it indoctrinates them through schools, it uses drugs and operant conditioning to transform their minds and make them into automata tools. It commits every atrocity that a modern Western reader recognizes as abhorrent. This is a problem. It is a problem because we are asked, as readers, to believe that there are reasons besides blackmail that a person would willingly become an agent of the Masquerade. We are asked to imagine that the Masquerade is a beautiful machine.

for starters. "It commits every atrocity that a modern Western reader recognizes as abhorrent." MODERN WESTERN EMPIRES DID, AND OCCASIONALLY STILL DO, MOST OF THESE THINGS!!! THIS IS US! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!! I FEEL INSANE!!!!

I think the book makes it more than explicitly clear why the empire is appealing??? it has all of the capital???? its building schools and sewage systems and importing food and goods and teaching reading and writing??? baru's own internal narrative often shows her own strife at the fact that the empire has made genuinely incredible scientific advancements that offer significant improvements in quality of life to many, many people. martine actually acknowledges this in the next paragraph of her review, and then brushes it away as not being good enough. why? what about that doesn't convince you?

she is seeming to hugely ignore the fact that in the case of aurdwynn specifically, the bureaucracy of the empire is coming in to unseat feudal aristocracy! what the masquerade offers may not be particularly tempting to most of that ruling class, but its economic opportunities are more then believably appealing to the common people. i think this is made pretty clear when baru's ploy to use the fiat bank to make loans to the aurdwynni people and basically lessen the massive tax burdens from the duchies wins her huge favor with the public.

and frankly even for the ruling class the potential economic benefits are massive too if you're willing to participate in the empire properly. yes the empire doesn't have Moral appeal. it doesn't fucking have to. it owns pretty much every economy outside of the oriati mbo. the fact that that's not enough for her is as you've pointed out really really showing her biases and blind spots. 'no reason besides blackmail' MONEY!!!! MONEY! IT'S MONEY! THIS IS A BOOK ABOUT ACCOUNTING! HOW DID YOU MISS THAT!!!

and the invocation of the concept of "civilized" as an objective quality, despite the recognition that the empire constructs what counts as "civilization" is so fucking unserious/simplistic/juvenile! why do you need to imagine yourself a place in the empire? in the imperial core specifically!

And this is really it for me too, yeah. It's gross. It's absolutely gross. "An empire isn't believably appealing unless I, personally, find it appealing" there are people alive who are eugenicists, who love community policing, who believe in race science. the masquerade is an empire for them. the thing about empires is that they are only actually empowering for an incredibly small subset of people, and the fact that You, Specifically, Arkady Martine can't imagine being one of those people in this instance doesn't make it not believable. This is a shatteringly individualist way of engaging with a work.

As for your points about the way she handles empire in her own book obviously i can't have anything to say there because i haven't read it yet, but i do absolutely agree with you on this bit:

and idk this may be reductive of me but i think if you are going to pull features from civilizations that have been colonized and use them to inspire fictional colonizing forces, you ARE saying something there! idk! and like, the ancient Mayan

1000% i don't think this is reductive of you. whether or not you're consciously saying anything is one question but it's a choice that absolutely doesn't exist in a vacuum. out of curiosity i googled her to see if she was of mayan descent or anything and maybe she chose that due to some personal ties to the subject matter but she doesn't seem to be. which of course i don't think means she can't or shouldn't draw any inspiration from there but i do think all of these sorts of choices are meaningful

i don't really have much to say here to round off a conclusion but. wow. deeply deeply telling review that does not particularly make me want to read anything she has written beyond this.

#long post #lb baru cormorant #ask

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