#he finds an old copy of pride & prejudice in a used bookstore

[myglassesareinkansas]

Anyways I’m now emotional thinking about how Bryce celebrates Casey’s birthday and how each year, as he grows in love with her, his gifts get more and more thoughtful even though it’s the bottom on the list of love languages for him

[clemencetaught]

patrick's bookshelf ( verse one & two )

as a literature professor in verse one (and two), patrick is occupationally obligated to keep a collection of books both in his townhouse and in his office. his office bookshelf is filled mostly with the books he uses to teach his classes throughout the semester, literary criticism, literary theory books, and some of his all-time favorite reads. there's enough in there to cover an entire wall....

the more interesting books selections though actually are in his townhouse aka he actually has two shelves: one in the living room and the personal one in his room. the former has, once again, his all time favorites like pride and prejudice and the iliad, both of which have rather elaborate covers for along with some of the classics both from british and korean literature, greek and roman myths, his recent favorites and then some other books he's amassed from the bookstores....

his personal bookshelf, on the other hand, is much, much smaller- think like, a small shelf on his desk...and compromises of about seven to eight books, two of which are again, pride & prejudice and the iliad. these copies are very old and filled with post-it notes and copious amounts of writing in the margins of every page. he always tries to read at least one of these eight books every year.

if he lets you borrow a copy from his personal bookshelf, it means he trusts you.

( as for verse two, that personal collection got burnt to ash when he was faking his death ( which myungdae lowkey regrets ) and while he has managed to find copies of those eight books, he hasn't gotten to annotating any of them. mostly bc his concentration outside of the black knight is shit. myungdae's book collection in comparison is tiny since it's constrained to a single bookshelf in his apartment- no office book collection. the shelves are filled with many books and covered by thick layer of dust....looking at it makes him feel like a fraud 🙃 )

[c0ffinshit]

Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome (The Grabber x Reader) PART FOUR

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

word count: 2,486

warnings: talks of past voyerism, fingering, oral sex (female), degradation, slight fluff at the start, regret, mentions of stalking, semi-dubcon, begging

Months passed since Albert left me that day. I hadn’t even seen him around town until October 19th. It was a few days before an old friend’s birthday; I was desperate for a gift. I asked everyone I knew for ideas, but those became dead-ends quickly. My friend, being the oldest, loved reading. War of The Worlds, IT, Pride and Prejudice, and many more. I never saw them without a book near them or in their hand. It was always funny to me, in a weird sort of way. I knew there was a bookstore about three miles away from my house. So, I put on my good walking shoes, opened my door, and walked down. Once I got there, I opened the door, my bell-bottom jeans sweeping against the dark, hardwood floors. That was what alerted him to the door. He looks at me with his cold, lifeless eyes and just stares. I hadn’t quite noticed him, but I could feel him lurking.

"Excuse me? Can you help me find a book?" I asked the store clerk, almost in a whisper. The place was as quiet as a mouse; only soft jazz played as the clerk got up from his seat and showed me around the fiction. I looked until finally, Misery by Stephen King. She had been searching for a copy with a specific cover. And lucky for me, it was right in front of my face.

"Rough night?" a voice behind me inquires, looking at the book’s cover in my hands, his hands placed neatly behind him.

I turn around to reveal a tall and disheveled Albert.

"Al, you look…well," I said, my eyes looking up and down his body. His shirt was covered in old stains, and his pants were riddled with holes. Albert looked as if he had never slept a day in his life.

"Yeah, and you look amazing as always." He said his gaze sharpening.

Al seemed off. I mean, he was always off. But he seemed frantic, itchy, for lack of a better word.

"Listen, I know you’re probably still reeling about what happened a few months ago, and I want to tell you that…I’m sorry for getting mad at you like that," Al said as he started to back away from me, "I was angry, is all."

I look at him blankly. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to rehash what happened the last time he tried to apologize. All the yelling and hurt feelings. Those memories came flooding back to me.

"You are so lucky I hate you right now," I said, walking away from the door.

The Grabber places the daisies neatly on the mat, "And I’m so lucky to have you feel what I’ve felt for years."

I blink, trying to bring myself back to the present. But all it took was Albert to say something to carry me back to the bookstore at the end of October.

"So? Do you forgive me?" he said, his pinky finger moving to mine.

Maybe it was something I still secretly longed for. To feel Albert’s hands run along my legs as if he was kneeling before me like I was his goddess. Maybe he had finally changed a new leaf, becoming the man I always longed he’d be. But a thought crept into my mind: Nobody wants to admit that shit.

"Well…" I started, still trying to figure out if I should also apologize or stand my ground.

"You know you don’t have to forgive me, right? I was merely saying sorry." Al said, playing with the rings on his fingers.

What a thought. To feel The Grabber’s fingers deep inside, hitting your g-spot over again as he tells you how good you’re taking it.

I shake my head, "No, no, it's alright. I do forgive you… for the most part."

Albert smiles, the gentle smile I used to love. "That’s good. Good girl."

God, he must know what he’s doing to me.

"I don’t know about good," I replied shyly.

"You’re good to me. Anyone good to me is good in my book." His smile suddenly forms into a smirk.

He fully knows.

"Listen, I have to buy this book, or the employees will think I’m loitering. So…talk soon?" I said, pointing it in the direction of the now-sleeping clerk.

"I’ll come by your place. How does that sound?" His voice is quiet and smooth.

"That sounds great!"

I will admit; I got a little too excited to see a man I’m supposed to hate. As I went to one of the many cash registers, I could feel Albert’s eyes scanning my body as he stood near one of the many shelves. Uncomfortable wasn’t even a word I thought of when it came to that; erotic seems more like it. To feel his dark eyes following along the curves of my natural body; his eyes finally landed on my ass as I said to the employee, “have a nice day!” Maybe I was finally giving in. Giving in to that voice in my head that day. I wanted to fall back into his arms and forgive him for using me. And now, he’ll finally get what Albert and I both needed, each other.

His eyes are still on me, even when I leave the store. I wouldn’t say I’m getting paranoid, but it's only a feeling. Albert followed me home. I only know that because it's across the street from my living room’s only window. A black van with teal lettering lies waiting for me. And I feel his fist ready to knock on the door, continuing to act like everything between us is normal and over with. Finally, that knock comes, and I finish putting everything together.

I open the door. A smile crosses my face. Again, to reveal Albert, still in his same dirty clothes. "I thought you weren’t coming by ‘til later."

Albert chuckles, "This is why I didn’t set up a time, just to hear you say that."

He is really sucking up.

"So, what do you want to do now that I’m here?" He said, playfully hitting my arm.

I would love for you to take my face in your hands and kiss me with the most passion I’ve ever experienced in my whole life.

"I don’t know. I’m up for anything." I said. Suddenly, his hand snakes around my wrist, squeezing in gently. Maybe he is a mind reader.

"Then I have the thing for you." He said, pulling on my wrist gently. "First, you have to invite me in."

"What are you? A vampire?" I giggle.

"No, it's just the right thing to do."

"Okay, fine, you may come in." Albert smiles the way he always smiles, his crooked teeth on full display. His long legs walked through my door for the first time. It felt like deja vu.

"Now, finally, I can give you what you want," Al takes hold of my hand gently, "I want to make love, darling."

I froze. Why on god’s green earth is he acting like this?

"Al, cmon, don’t play with me."

  "Oh, dear," he pulled me closer to him, "why would I want to play with you? Do you want me to play with you?"

I didn’t want to reply. All I knew was it felt way too good. I could feel my old habits crawling up my back.

  "I bet you’re just so excited that I’m here, especially since I know you’re still in love with me," he said, his hands tugging at my hand.

His hand felt warm but threatening, like any minute he would rip it off of my body. I did still love him, or at least I thought I did. But if I did love him, why did I always have so much hatred toward him? At least I know now that I overreached that day.

  "Is it okay if I..." Albert pulls my hand. Taking me closer to him, "just put my hands right here."

I feel my feet beneath me moving closer to his enormous figure. I gently whine against him when he finally pulls me in for a hug. Suddenly, I feel Albert’s soft lips on my neck, kissing gently. I try to move away from Albert’s strong arms, but his grip stops me. He held me in a way that I didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want me to leave either. Suddenly, I feel one of his hands go lower to my thigh. "You know, I’ve been watching you. The window in your bedroom is the perfect view to watch you cum to thoughts of me. I can even hear it when I’m in my house." he asked, whispering against my neck.

"Albert, I-"

"’ I’ what? Do you not want this? C’mon (Y/N), give in."

  A giggle escapes my lips, "No, it's not that. It's the fact that you don’t mean anything you say." He kisses my jaw, "What if it's the truth, (Y/N)? How would you feel then? Give it, for your pleasure’s sake. " Albert’s other hand moved slowly to the opposite thigh. It felt weirdly intimate. His eyes met mine, which felt like frost on my skin.

"God, you’re even prettier up close."

  I giggle in reply. My hands were along Albert’s shoulders.

  "Why are you so giggly all of a sudden?" he asked, getting closer to my face again.

  "I’m not giggly," I replied sheepishly, "I just know that this is all bullshit. You’re a liar that kills people. Not exactly trustworthy."

Albert’s breathing suddenly grows heavy, "Why do you not believe me?"

"I literally just told you why. You’re a murderer who is also a lair."

�� "No. I mean, why is it so hard to believe that I do love you?"

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. The Grabber really wants to play this game?

"Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was the weeks of manipulation I had to suffer through; while still being in love with you."

He grew quiet. The loud cicadas sang outside, waiting for a mate of their own. Suddenly, I feel him push me up against a wall.

"I am sick of playing these mind games, princess. Now let me, why am I really here?" Albert said, his hands going up to touch my collarbones. It felt like my throat was closing, like having an allergy reaction. "Come on, spill it out. Before I use that whore mouth of yours and fuck it out of you." His mouth was close to my ear.

"I don’t know, I just thought you wanted to talk and forgive-"

"Forgive? Talk? Honey, I’m giving you what you scream about at night with your hands deep in your pussy. And don’t lie to me; I’ve seen it."

  "What do you mean ‘seen it?’" I asked innocently.

"Oh, you didn't notice? I’ve been watching you from your bedroom window. You like the idea of me being the predator, preying upon you. Or at least, you cum the hardest to that thought."

His hands slowly work their way down to my thighs. My legs suddenly lifted off the ground, my ankle socks brushing against Albert's pants.

"What I’ve also noticed is when you cum, you call yourself a ‘dirty little slut.’ Mind telling me what that’s about?" Albert slowly gets on his knees, my thighs resting on his shoulders. "Do you want to be my dirty little slut?"  

His big hands hooked around my panties and pulled them down my legs. One leg slipped out of the panties’ leg hole. Now, finally greeted with my aching pussy, he kisses it softly.

  "Beg." Albert plainly said as he kissed my inner thigh.

"What?" I whisper. Looking down, I can feel every kiss he places down. 

  "Beg for me to fuck you with my tongue."

  "Fuck… please fuck me, Albert. I want your tongue deep inside my cunt." I beg softly, trying to hold myself back as I squirmed around his face, trying to get any contact for my poor clit.

"One flick, and you’ll cum; I can just feel it." his nose rubs up against my clit.

"God," I moan out. Albert continues to rub his nose side to side, just slightly above my clit. I could feel his face get wetter with my cum as Albert went deeper.

"God-fuck-sh-please let me cum."

"Aw, you poor little thing, wanting to cum. You can hardly speak." Albert continued on like that for a little while until gently grazing his tongue over my clit. Causing my body to shiver.

"Do you want to cum, princess? Please cum for me," he said, his licking becoming more rapid.

The next few moments were a blur. A few different thoughts ran through my head, mainly that I didn’t know if I wanted it. Sure, I still had feelings that crawled in my skin like spiders. But I also couldn’t stand being around him. Either way, as I could feel my orgasm on the horizon, my pussy pushed into his face, my pearl still aching for any contact from Albert.

"Fuck-Albert-I’m gonna-" I manage to stutter out as the tight knot in my stomach finally snaps.

Once the brain fog lifts, I quickly realize what I am doing. I can’t do this anymore.

I push his face away from my clit and stumble away, straightening myself out. "Aw, c’mon, what’s wrong now?" Albert whines, his shoes sliding as he up, and walks over to me.

"What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG? What kind of question is that, Albert?" I ask him as I begin to pace around the room.

"This is a one time thing-"

"I WISH I KNEW HOW TO QUIT YOU." I screamed, slamming my foot down. "YOU ARE ALL I THINK ABOUT ALL THE TIMES. EVEN WHEN I HATE YOU FOR THE THINGS YOU DO."

Albert stands silently for a moment. I started to panic since all those words seemed to spill out of my mouth. "That’s a shame. I can’t say I feel the same.” He paused for a second before walking towards the door, "you know what? It doesn’t matter anyways. The thing is, even I know when to give up." Albert finished, finally walking to the door.

"Albert, please, you don’t understand-" I tried to speak but was interrupted by Al’s footsteps stop.

"(Y/N), ever I know when to give up. I’ll still call and mail you… the dream of having a relationship is dead. I’m not the guy for that. I’m the guy for casual sex and noncommittal relationships." Albert’s eyes move slowly to me and the street in front of my house.

I watched him turn the knob to the door, giving me a silent goodbye as he walked to his van. I saw him start up the car and drive away. Now all I have is me and sex filled with regret.

[n3onguts]

a map of our love. | timothée chalamet

summary — three big cities, two stupidly-in-love people, and one home.

pairing — timothée chalamet x f!reader

genre&tags — slice of life au, fluff, all that cutesy traveling shit that couples do, flying-induced anxiety, might require some basic knowledge about english lit (but who hasn’t read pride and prejudice??), fun country-related facts sprinkled here n there

warning(s) — none

w.c. — 732

a/n — i think anon requested this in like 2018 or 2019 when tim’s fandom was still largely active but they’ve sort of died down now oops 😅 too little, too late, i know, but, anon (if you’re still out there and waiting), you must admit my level of procrastination is unmatched! love you all very very much, don’t forget to take care of yourselves, and, for all da white boy lovers out there, enjoy some good clean wholesome fun with mah boi timmy 

Loving you, it seems, comes easily to Timothée.

In London, you pull him by his hoodie sleeve from bookstore to bookstore, along historic cobblestone streets, with the energy of a frenetic kid at a toy store. You find a secondhand, tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice with a handwritten dedication on the title page that reads, "For Amelia. I'd give up my pride for you a thousand times over." You squeal over the prospective identity of this book's previous owner to him, weaving a grand tale about the romance that led to the scrawled note, and he is more than happy to listen. He buys the book for you and you fall asleep on his shoulder on the Tube ride back to your hotel, still clinging tightly onto it. His side starts to get sore after a while, and if this were anyone else, he'd nudge them awake for some sweet relief — but it's you, so of course he doesn't. Stays like that until it’s your stop is what he does instead.

In Paris, you ask him to take a picture of you as you smoke a cigarette in a béret — the quintessential French stereotype. "Am I doing your people justice?" You joke. He sits across the iron café table from you, watching you pose playfully through the lens of his iPhone camera and making no attempts to suppress the giddy grin he's got on. "Oh, definitely. I can barely tell you're not from here." Later, at night, you stroll along the Pont des Arts and you whisper to him, full of awe as you survey the nippy gloom of the city, "I wonder how many keys there are at the bottom of the Seine from the old love locks that used to be attached to the bridge... It must house, like, hundreds of thousands of promises.” He notices you stare straight down into the calm waters intently, almost as if you can see the keys you're talking about materialize on the river floor. “I wonder how many of those relationships actually lasted." You quietly muse. He doesn’t say anything — just juts out his hand towards your chest suddenly and twists it in front of your heart, catching you by surprise before feigning a toss into the air. You roll your eyes when he looks back at you, but you do the same to him regardless. 

In Tokyo, you two share Yakiniku and Sake in some hole-in-the-wall bar at Ebisu Alley. There's a Japanese jazz record playing softly in the background, all high-pitched strings and sweet, feminine crooning. The air is sticky with heat, and your cheeks are tinted red as you gobble down the meat. There's one last skewer left on the plate and you look up at him guiltily, eyes wide and smile sheepish. He chuckles lightly, nodding his head. "Of course. Go ahead."

On the flight home, he holds your hand tightly as your plane gets ready to depart. You shut your eyes and try to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the anxiety spiking through your veins. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." — He repeats it like a religious mantra, trying to commit it to your memory. He guides you through your breathing and when you open your eyes, you're cruising smoothly in the air. The fear in your heart has dissipated, and in place, a warm inkling of something pulses for him.

Like an innate sense, almost, he'd love you anywhere. Anywhere — but he realizes it at home.

At home, in your shared New York apartment, while he watches you stir his morning coffee (just the way he likes it, of course: with a dash of sweetened oat milk, which you put him on, and exactly three ice cubes, as always) from over your shoulder, chin tucked into your neck and caramel curls tickling your cheek, he realizes it. 

He inhales the scent of coffee grounds and exhales a soft, but certain ‘I love you’. 

You smile, something small. After a few moments, you let out an ‘I figured’. 

He steps back when you turn, handing him his drink. He receives it, clasps it with two hands, but he’s still waiting. You can’t help but think how cute he looks — like a toddler whose toys have been taken away.

“Oh, and I love you too, loser. Duh.”

[yumeyooa]

hopelessly in love | sakusa kiyoomi

—sakusa’s got a secret: he’s a hopeless romantic; and it’s all thanks to you.

➢  pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x gender neutral! reader

➢ genre: fluff | timeskip au | childhood friends to lovers au | friends to lovers au | slice of life au | rated g

➢ word count: 1.9k+

➢  warning: nothing major :>> 

➢ love letter: this was supposed to be a short timestamp but it became a full blown drabble i-- T_T. i absolutely live for the trope wherein kiyoomi is a loving soft person once he’s comfortable so i just indulged myself IM SORRY i hope y’all like it and let me know what you think <33

navigation | anime masterlist 

Not many people know this, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is a hopeless romantic. 

It’s a secret he likes to keep to himself, afraid that if it were to fall on the ears of another, he would never be able to live it down. More so if it were the rowdy bunch he calls a team. He was sure that Atsumu, that insufferable idiot, would tease him for it every chance he got should he have known. 

Which was why he keeps it discreet, hiding his wishes and desires behind a cold facade that warranted others to believe that he was anything but hopelessly in love with the idea of romance. 

Well, everyone except for you. 

The chimes of the bell ring as Sakusa enters your quiet bookstore just ten minutes away from his home. For the longest time, Sakusa had always loved books. They allowed him to indulge in his romantic fantasies without being so overtly apparent to the prying eyes of the world. 

“Ah, Kiyoomi! Welcome back!” Like milk and honey, your voice greets him as he enters the place he had considered a paradise for the past two years. You stand up from where you sat on your desk, glasses perched atop your head as you give him a warm smile, causing a fuzzy feeling to grow in his chest. 

You and Sakusa go way back, all the way to your days as a book-loving library assistant and a covert volleyball fanatic (not that Sakusa would ever admit it, but you knew better). The two of you had been classmates all throughout your high school journey, and Sakusa considered you to be one of the closest friends he had, even to this day. After all, as time has proven, nothing between the two of you has changed. 

Sakusa greets you with a nod, although there’s still a kind glint in his eyes that makes you grin. As a man of few words, Sakusa’s emotions reigned supreme in the hidden crevices of his actions. Sometimes it’d take an expert or a long-time friend to even notice those tiny nuances. However, you had known Sakusa for years. It practically came like second nature to you at this point. 

He sets down the book he bought from his last trip-- a translated copy of The Fault in Our Stars. There’s a determined gaze in his eyes as he softly nudges the book to you, and you try to hide your desire to coo at him, waiting for him to speak with a patient smile. 

“This,” he finally says, averting his eyes. He was still embarrassed to admit he enjoyed romantic novels, even if it was in front of you. “Are there any more books like this?”

“Plot-wise? Or do you want something from the same author?” You ask curiously, already making your way around the counter to face Sakusa. He looks at you with a shy glance before mumbling “Author,” and you smile once more, gesturing to the tall player to follow you down the aisles. 

“Here you go!” You say, handing him a few fresh translated copies of Paper Towns and Looking for Alaska. “These just came in the other day. You’re pretty lucky, Kiyoomi!” 

“Thanks,” he mutters as he grabs the books from you gently, fingers hovering over the cover as his heart pumps with excitement at the thought of unwinding himself to another fantastic story. The last one had him hooked until the end, and he had broken his carefully crafted sleep schedule just to finish it. He couldn’t wait to dive into a whole new world waiting for him within the pages of these books. 

But most of all, he couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. 

With a knowing smile, you quickly usher Kiyoomi into your back office, knowing that the counter wouldn’t need you for a while. No one else would come to your store at 1 in the afternoon, except for the old lady that came by every so often, but she could wait. 

“Here,” you say as you hand Kiyoomi a warm cup of tea. “Freshly brewed, just for you!” Kiyoomi smiles, although you don’t see it as it’s hidden by his mask. He removes his mask, placing it gently into the ziplock he had brought with him before grabbing hold of the mug you had specially reserved for him and taking a sip. 

It was soothing and relaxing, just the way he liked it. He can feel his muscles relax as he leans back into his chair, sighing in bliss as he closes his eyes. “You like it that much?” You ask with a giggle, setting down a plate of cookies you had bought from the bakery across the street.

“Of course,” he replies, watching as you take a seat in front of him, taking a cookie to eat. “There’s nothing like your tea, you know that.”

Of course, you did. For the past two years, ever since you and Sakusa had rekindled your friendship and had begun to meet up regularly, you had been brewing him a cup of warm tea. It wasn’t meant to be a habit, but somehow it became that way ever since the first time Sakusa had decided to open up and rave about romance novels with you. 

You remember the first time it happened. Sakusa had dropped by for a surprise visit after the two of you bumped into each other on a trip to the supermarket earlier that day. You mentioned that you ran a bookstore, but you never expected him to show up to it. It was a pleasant surprise, one that you welcomed wholeheartedly. 

He had asked for a book recommendation, not knowing how else to reignite that connection you two had back in high school. He remembers the days where he used to escape to the library, and you’d keep him company, rambling on and on about the books you were sorting out and how much you loved them. 

Those were the most enjoyable times throughout Sakusa’s high school life, and how he wished to reclaim those memories and renew them once more now that you were adults. 

That day, you had recommended him to read Pride and Prejudice, to which Skausa initially grimaced, remembering how much he had hated the book back then when he was younger. But with your encouragement, he had decided to purchase it without giving it any thought until he finally read it on his rare day off. 

And to say he was floored would be an understatement. 

“Incredible,” he had mentioned to you, in a frenzy the next day, returning to your store like a man who had just been shown the truth of the universe. “Utterly Amazing!”

“Sakusa?” You had called back, confused at his sudden behavior. From your puzzled expression, Sakusa finally snapped out of his senses and cleared his throat, embarrassed at his sudden outburst. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, averting his gaze. “It’s fine,” you say, reassuringly gesturing him to follow you to the back office that would soon become a special hangout place for the two of you. 

“What was it you were talking about?” You ask as you prepare your first-ever cup of tea for him (the first of many). At your question, Sakusa perks up, grabbing the book he had purchased from his bag and setting it down on the table in front of him. 

“This was incredible,” he reiterates, and you turn your head to see what he was talking about, only to nod in understanding. “How does one write love in such a compelling and enchanting way? It seems too good to be true. I can’t believe I didn’t appreciate this masterpiece back in high school.”

You laugh, setting down the cup of tea. It’s the first time you’ve seen Sakusa this expressive. It reminds you of back in the day, in those few moments where you would catch him in a rave about how fantastic volleyball was as you rearranged the science books on the shelves. It was in those moments that you found the usually quiet man quite charming. 

“(Y/N)?” Sakusa asks, bringing you out of your trance. You look up at him, snapping out of your thoughts as you tilted your head in question. “You okay? You’ve been out of it for a few minutes.”

“Oh,” you giggle, realizing your mistake. “Sorry, Kiyoomi, I was just reminiscing about the past, that’s all. How did you find the book?”

“Heartbreaking.” 

You blink, caught off guard by how blunt he was before letting out a hearty laugh, to which Sakusa frowns, not quite understanding why you were laughing. “What’s so funny?” He asks, a pout settling on his lips. 

“Nothing Kiyoomi, It’s just, I didn’t expect you to say that so bluntly,” you say, wiping off the tears that had begun to form at the corner of your eye from too much laughter. “Continue.”

“You wouldn’t believe the number of times I cried while reading the book. How could John—whatever his name is—write something so heartbreaking and expect to get away with it?”

Your laughter rings through the room, and Sakusa can feel it tug on his heartstrings. He wasn’t one to express his thoughts out loud. But being around you just made him do it. You had this magic about you, something Sakusa couldn’t quite put his fingers on. Perhaps that was just your natural charm to draw people into your rhythm, and Sakusa wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Well, just wait till you read the other two. They’re both as equally amazing as the last one.” You say, gesturing to the books in front of Sakusa tenderly. “Are they just as heartbreaking?” He asks, already giddy with anticipation. 

“Hmm, you’ll have to read to find out.” You tease, causing another pout to form on his lips as he groans, choosing to chug down the remainder of his tea. 

The two of you continued your conversation, talking about anything and everything about your lives at the moment. Sakusa vented about their most recent game, which was a win for the team. However, he didn’t play as well as he wanted, which caused him to be benched for two sets. It was a low blow on his part, but he knew that with proper training and motivation, he could overcome it. 

“Of course you can!” You said once he was done voicing out his doubts. “You’re the Sakusa Kiyoomi I know and love. Of course, you’re going to ace it!”

Your words cause Sakusa’s heart to skip a beat, trying to process what you had just said. Did you really love him? Was it in a platonic or more romantic way? Why did you have to say that? Don’t you know how much it drives Sakusa wild?

“Thanks,” is all he says, looking down to hide the blush that was beginning to form on his cheeks. Was this what all the books were telling him about? Was he slowly but surely falling in love with you? Because if he was, then Sakusa would wholeheartedly admit that this was the best feeling in the world. 

Falling in love felt surreal. 

As he leaves your store, two new books in hand, greeting you goodbye as you wave him off, Sakusa can feel the love in him continue to grow. He makes the short trip home, yet all he can do is think of you and how much you’ve become part of his life. You had wormed your way into his heart and made yourself stay, and honestly, Sakusa didn’t mind. 

He was a hopeless romantic after all. And if this was the beginning of a life-changing love story with you by his side, then so be it. 

He would fall until you’d catch him in your arms and love him until love could be no more. And would wholeheartedly do it all over again. 

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

➢ general taglist (send an ask to be tagged!): @loveinhaikyuu @mirakeul

[volturialice]

and thou art distant in Humanity

welcome to an edbella thing feat. vampire!bella and human!edward and a bookstore. it’s @cullen-collective‘s birthday request! title from Isabella, or the Pot of Basil by John Keats. 

rating: gen 

pairings: bella swan/edward cullen

length: 1.4k words 

part 1/2 

        Bella has never minded being alone. It’s being alone among other people she can’t seem to handle.

   This time it was Emmett’s fault, of course. Things often are. Sometimes Bella wonders whether the whole bear incident was as entirely unprovoked as her brother claims, because his ability to attract trouble is every bit as formidable as her own.

   Usually, it’s fine. It’s not as if you can get into too much trouble as an immortal, indestructible vampire. At least Emmett has just enough sense not to cross the Volturi or pick a fight with another coven. And he has Rose to keep him in line.

    And content as she is with solitude, sometimes Bella wonders what that would be like. She loves her family, but it would be nice to have someone who was all hers. Someone to hunt with, talk with, share with, spend eternity with. The usual stuff.

    And yes, all right, someone to have sex with. It’s awkward, having to sequester herself in the library all night every night until the others zip downstairs at dawn, all giggly and handsy or mellow and blissed out. Bella’s library is probably the most well-stocked and beautiful one in the country, but sometimes it feels more like a self-imposed prison than an escape. Still, she makes the best of it. Lonely cell or cozy burrow, it’s her space.

    Which is why it feels like such an affront when Emmett trespasses. Most of the time, Bella doesn’t mind being the perfect victim for his pranks—just stuffy enough to get offended, just cool enough to forgive. But Emmett can’t always tell when he crosses a line. Bella hides hurt feelings so well that probably no one can, except maybe Jasper. She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to admit when she’s been hurt—maybe some buried thing from her human life, an enduring desire to please everyone all the time, to never be a burden. That sounds about right for a girl from 1918.

    So she doesn’t say anything to Emmett about the ruined copy of Little Women. What would be the point? It’s not as if she can’t replace it. They’re billionaires, for crying out loud. She swallows back the little twinge of grief, the voice that protests, Renée bought me that book in 1909, a birthday present, we read it aloud to each other on summer evenings by the open window—and accepts the post-it note Alice hands her, with the address of the closest used bookstore—Masen’s Books—in elegant, looping scrawl.

    Bella should check it out, anyway. It’s always the first place she goes whenever they move to a new town. A way of getting her bearings. She loves the old-book smells, the quiet shuffling of feet and pages, the way the towering shelves seem to swallow up sound and make her feel like the only person on Earth—insulated, small, safe. Most of all she loves the link to the past, the tangible history in her hands when she picks up an old volume that someone else might have loved, once.

    Masen’s Books is about as close as Bella will ever get to being in heaven. Its two labyrinthine stories are divided into careful subsections, so many genres and special interests competing for attention that Bella almost doesn’t know where to start. She finds Little Women immediately—not a 1909 edition, but 1929 isn’t too bad, and at least it’s a sturdy copy, with its simple teal-blue binding in pretty good condition for something nearly as old as she is.

    But why stop there? There’s so much to look at. Anthologies and literary criticism, philosophy and religion, books in a host of other languages—French, Spanish, German, Vietnamese—and even a section of antique travel guides. Esme would love the Baedekers.

    She’s flipping through an Icelandic translation of Pride and Prejudice when she hears the human approach. Even after all these years of living the charade, Bella still has to remind herself not to look up until it’s appropriate, until she hears his polite cough.

    It’s a boy, probably somewhere in his late teens or early twenties, with glasses and an untidy mop of bronze hair. Bella watches his green eyes widen as he takes in her appearance. So much for dressing down and blending in today.

    “Um. Pardon me, miss, but I just wanted to let you know that we closed five minutes ago,” he stammers. Bella bites back her smile. He’s blushing. It’s kind of cute. (She ignores the stirrings of thirst low in her throat.)

    “I’m sorry—I lost track of time.” She explains. A quick scan with her senses tells her she’s the only customer left—how embarrassing. This poor kid probably wants to lock up and go home, and here she is, head in the clouds, forcing him to stay late.

    “It’s fine,” insists the boy. “I don’t mean to rush you. I just didn’t want you to be alarmed that the door is locked.”

    “No, no, I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll just pay for these, if that’s okay,” says Bella, feeling the odd urge to blush herself. Is he always so accommodating, or is he making an exception for the pretty stranger?

    “Of course. It’s, um, right over here.”

    Bella follows him to the register, the one area of the shop she hasn’t explored yet. Now she sees her folly—she should have started here. There’s a great glass-encased shelf behind the cash wrap, locked, full of what look like the oldest and best-preserved volumes in the store. All the special, exceptional books must be here—a store this meticulously curated is bound to have some signed copies, a few first editions. Just looking at the ornate spines and gilded pages sends a shiver of greedy excitement down Bella’s spine. She’ll have to come back sometime for a closer examination.

    The human boy rings up her purchase. Bella likes the way he packs her books into the bag—gingerly, as though each one is a rare exotic fruit he and mustn’t allow them to bruise. He slides a bright green flier into the cover of Little Women.

    “Your shop is beautiful,” offers Bella as she hands him her credit card.

    “Oh, thanks.” He fumbles the credit card swipe, tries again. “It’s my parents’ shop, really,” he admits, eyes downcast as if it’s crucial that he watch the machine print her receipt. His eyelashes are the same red-bronze color as his hair. “I just help out Tuesday through Friday, and run some of the programs.”

    “Programs?”

    “Book clubs, mainly. They’re all listed on the flier.” He tucks Bella’s receipt into the bag. “I’m Edward Masen, by the way.”

    “Bella Cullen,” says Bella. She bites her lip and holds in a wince as she takes his proffered hand. It’s always a little disappointing to watch humans flinch from her cold skin.

    But Edward doesn’t flinch. “Is that short for Isabella?” he asks, passing her the bag of books.

    “Yes,” says Bella, letting her arm sag as if it’s heavy. “But no one’s called me that in a century.” She grins at her little joke, and though Edward can’t possibly understand what’s so funny, he smiles crookedly back.

    When Bella gets home and opens Little Women, the flier almost falls out. It’s such a lurid shade of neon that she has to stop herself from comparing it to the calm, sea-glass hue of Edward’s eyes. What a strange, errant thought.

    The list includes a study group and four different book clubs. Bella’s eyes are drawn to the last one:

New this fall!

Come read and discuss Romantic poetry

Thursday evenings from 6-8

BYO refreshments

    She thinks of the well-worn copy of Keats’  Realms of Gold, and Other Works that has never left the end table in her bed-less bedroom, and of the time she tried to discuss it with Carlisle and was interrupted by Emmett and Jasper crashing through two walls and a dining table. It’s a stark contrast with the memory of Edward, handling each of her books with fastidious care.

    Maybe it would be nice to have a reason to leave the house once in a while (the high school charade definitely doesn’t count.) And maybe it would be nice to hear some new people’s opinions. Maybe a book club is exactly what she needs.

[brideofedoras]

Cupid’s Arrow

Cupid’s Arrow

A Modern AU Cupid/OFC

Disclaimer: I do not own Cupid or Aphrodite or the images in the aesthetic I created...  I only own my OCs...

Warnings: NONE!  (yet...)

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: 18+ (to be on the safe side)...

*Note: This was originally supposed to be a short one but it got away with me.  I’m nowhere near finished with it, I’m currently stuck but I wanted to post it for Valentine’s Day.  So...  Here’s part one!

Valentine’s Day is T-minus 7 days, 14 hours, 38 minutes…

Cupid snorted awake when the damned alarm sounded on his phone.  He rolled over and grabbed the device to silence the alert.  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered, dropping the iPhone onto the blanket before scrubbing his hands over his face.  Dammit, he wanted to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately he had a job to do.  And if he didn’t do it, his mother would never let him hear the end of it.  

Aphrodite had been on a tear ever since she’d heard about some cute little brunette running a quaint little bookstore in the middle of Nowhere, Missouri.  Rumor had it the girl was very beautiful and every red-blooded man in a hundred mile radius were flocking around her.

He screwed his eyes shut.  His mother could be a very jealous woman at times, but this was ridiculous.  She wanted him to go undercover, get a job somewhere in that town (preferably at the bookstore, if Aphrodite had her way), and nail some fat, ugly old man with one of his arrows and make him fall in love with the girl.

He sighed heavily as he sat up, the bedding pooling at his bare waist.  One thing he hated was his own mother using him to ease her jealousy at some innocent woman’s expense.  

“That’s not how I work, Mom,” he muttered to himself.  He threw the covers off and stood up, shuddering at the slight chill in the room.  

He preferred to bring couples together naturally without wasting his precious arrows.  Occasionally someone would drag their heels and deny they were head over heels in love with the person they were meant to be with.  Then he would bust out the crossbow and take aim.

But to use an arrow to force love on someone?  It was immoral.  He would not do something that went against his beliefs.

He would go, he would try to get hired on somewhere in Valentine Creek, Missouri, and see if there was anyone she was interested in.  And if the feelings were reciprocated he would work his matchmaking skills, bring them together and hope for the best.

Cupid grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and pulled them on, formulating the plan in his head.  Research the town, see if there are any job openings, apply and charm his way into a job, meet the girl, befriend the girl, and hopefully fix her up with her one true love.  

He finished getting dressed and fixed himself a pot of coffee before he grabbed his laptop and settled down on his bed once more to do a Google search on the girl his mother had taken a dislike to sight unseen.  

Valentine Creek, Missouri.  Population 8,347.  Located on the Missouri River in the middle of the state, cute little tourist town with a rich history.  His hazel eyes skimmed along the list of businesses until the name of the bookstore Aphrodite had practically spat out last night caught his attention.  

Adventure Awaits.  Established in 1996 by Nic and Calliope Wilder on the square in historic downtown Valentine’s Creek, Adventure Awaits is a bookstore, bakery and coffee shop rolled into one.  Current owner and operator is their daughter, Penelope Wilder, a 2018 graduate of Olympus University where she studied business management and creative writing.  The Wilders have collaborated with area businesses during festivals to host wine walks to raise funds for restoring historic sites of interest; children’s workshops such as creative writing, art, dance, theater, and baking; pet adoption specials; back-to-school supply drives, and Christmas book drives.

He reached for his coffee and took a sip before searching to see if Adventure Awaits had a website.  “Bingo,” he murmured when it pulled up.  He frowned thoughtfully as he took in the simple page with a Victorian-esque background.  Links to view the dessert and beverage menu, books, gifts, upcoming events lined the top of the page.

He scrolled down the main page, finding it to be a blog of sorts touting specials, sales, employment opportunities and photos from recent events.  

One photo caught his attention.  A blue-eyed brunette curled up on an overstuffed armchair with a book and a three-legged cat.  

Meet the not-so-new owner and operator of Adventure Awaits: Penny (and Church).

Cupid double-tapped the photo to get a better look.  

Long dark hair flowing in waves, bright baby blue eyes framed with long dark lashes, high cheekbones, full pink lips, flawless skin.  An aura of shy innocence in that smile.

Warmth flooded through him as he studied, as he memorized Penelope Wilder’s photograph.  He wondered if her hair felt as silky as it looked, if it would curl around his fingers.  Would her lips feel plush and velvety soft under his?  What would her kisses taste like?  Would her eyes sparkle with love and adoration as she looked deep into his own hazels?

The increasing tightness in his chest snapped him out of his reverie.  Cupid scrubbed his hands over his face and drew in a deep breath.  “You are the God of Love, you have no time for a romance of your own, you idiot,” he berated himself.  “Mom would kill you, too, for this.”

He spread his fingers to peek at the computer screen once more, to the chocolate brown tresses and the baby blue eyes and the shy smile.  “I can’t do this.”

Cupid startled when his phone vibrated on the night stand.  With a groan he dropped his hands and snatched it up.  “Crap.”  He swiped his thumb to answer.  “Mom.”

“Cupid, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”  The sickly sweet tone in Aphrodite’s voice belied the irritation he picked up on.

“No, I’m not doing it,” he leaned back against the headboard.  

“Yes, you are,” she growled at him.  “You are going to fly your cute little ass to Missouri and make her fall in love with some fat old geezer.”

“Mother, what you are demanding of me goes against what I stand for,” he warned.  “I will not force that kind of fate on an undeserving innocent.”

“I don’t care,” he rolled his eyes at her flippant tone.  “You’re doing this or I’m disowning you.”

“You say that every time you want me to do your dirty work, Mom,” he reached up and raked his fingers through his golden blond hair.  “You haven’t disowned me yet.”

“Just do it, Cupid,” she snapped and disconnected the call.

“No, Mom,” he dropped the phone onto the bed.  “I’m not gonna ruin her life to appease your jealousy.”  He leaned forward to look at the photo of the blue-eyed beauty once more.  

“No, Church, you can’t have a brownie,” Penelope smiled at the three-legged cat at her feet.  “You shouldn’t be back here anyway.”

Big amber eyes blinked at her from the sweet ebony face before the rescue hobbled off with his fluffy tail flicking sassily at her.

She shook her head as she finished stocking the dessert display.  “Chocolate isn’t good for furbabies,” she picked up the cream cheese chocolate chip brownie she’d saved for herself and followed the cat to the window display overlooking the park across the street.  It was cloudy out, snow was in the forecast for the afternoon.  “Think we’ll get the four inches of snow the weatherman promised?”  She scritched behind Church’s left ear.

The cat purred in response, a deep and loud rumble as he turned his head to urge her to scratch him under his jaw.  

She smiled as she complied.  “Not that we have to get out in it, since we live upstairs and I did the shopping last night.”  Her baby blue eyes wandered to the window again.  “Well, we have thirty minutes before it’s time to open, Mom will be here later to help me with today’s delivery…  Is it wrong to want a shot of tequila to get me through the day?”

“Mrrrrp,” Church gave her a half meow, half purr for a response before turning and hopping up onto the vintage wingback chair in the display.  He promptly curled up on the soft ivory afghan.

“It was just a hypothetical question,” she sighed as she straightened the books on the side table.  “Maybe.”

She turned away from the window and walked through the small store.  She switched around a few Valentine’s Day displays, rotating the books on the stands and tried not to groan as she wondered how many men she was going to have to fend off today.

Not a single one of them were interested in a relationship.  They wanted to hook up, do the one night stand thing and go on their merry little way, or the friends with benefits, no-strings-attached thing.  

She was shy, introverted, and hooking up for sex was something she could not do.  If she was going to invest her time in someone, step out of her comfort zone and make herself vulnerable then that person better be in it for the long haul, and not just for sex.  Some of her friends had a revolving door of lovers, and she understood that this day and age that was the new normal.  It just was not for her.  She wanted the old cliche, a whirlwind romance evolving into happily ever after.

Penny groaned.  “I should just go on vacation every year around this time, Church,” she picked up a copy of one of her favorite books and carried it to the counter.  “What do you think?  A little bungalow on the beach somewhere?  Maybe run away to New Zealand?”  She chuckled when she received no response from the stray-turned-spoiled house cat.  “I’m terrified of flying, that would never work anyway,” she shook her head as she propped Pride and Prejudice up next to the register.  One quick glance at the clock on the wall told her she had five minutes to go before it was time to open.  With another sigh she rounded the counter to start the coffee maker for the regular coffee, checked the other machines, and grabbed the keys to unlock the door.

“Church, it’s already starting to snow,” she commented as she unlocked the door leading to the enclosed foyer.  Once the main door was unlocked she dipped into her bucket of rock salt and stepped out onto the sidewalk to spread it out.  

“Penny, where’s your coat?”

Her head snapped up toward the shoe store to the left.  “Upstairs in my apartment,” she answered with a smile.  “I’ll grab it when I have a chance, Ed.”

“You be sure to do that, wouldn’t want for you to come down sick,” Ed Chambers smiled back.  “If you want, I can have Josh shovel the walk for you later.”

“Thank you,” she shook her head.  “I’ll take care of it.”

“The offer stands if you get busy, Penny,” he waved before ducking back into his shop.

Her smile dropped the moment she was alone.  Ugh.  I do not want Josh shoveling my part of the walk.  He will just come into the store and flirt and get mad the moment I turn him down.  She ducked back into the foyer for more rock salt.  “I’m quite capable of shoveling my sidewalk, clearing off my car, and carrying my groceries,” she muttered out loud.  “Don’t need some jerk coming along flexing to show off and entice me into something I want no part of.”  A few more scoops of salt later she grabbed the sign her dad had made years ago and set it where it was out of the way but easily seen.  Caution: Sidewalk might be slick!  Please walk with care!

She stepped back into her business and flipped the sign from “Closed” to “Come on in, we’re open!”.  Once she wiped her feet on the rough mat she sighed heavily.  “I swear to God, Cupid better keep his damned arrows away from me.”

Penny ducked around the wall separating the counter from the kitchen to wash her hands.  It would likely be a slow day for business with the snow arriving earlier than expected (never a good sign), and the main drag would be clogged later with rerouted traffic from accidents on the freeway bridge ten minutes away (happens every time it rains or snows, people think they can fly down the highway at 90 miles per hour regardless of the weather).  But she had her regulars to think about.  Employees from the businesses, city hall, the police and sheriff’s department and the courthouse often popped in for a cup of coffee and a fresh brownie or cookie during their breaks.  The auxiliary from the local hospital enjoyed coming in to request books and novelty items to be ordered for their gift shop.  She doubted they would come in.  

Slow days could be both a blessing and a curse, she thought.  With nothing else to do until the delivery, she settled in behind the counter for a long wait.

[rebelsarestrongashell]

Sunsets in Wakanda - 6

Summary: After his programming is removed, Natasha secretly visits Bucky in Wakanda. They rediscover each other as they are torn between love and promises.

Characters: Bucky x Natasha

A/N: I actually posted this update on WattPad but forgot to add it on here, please don’t hate me! Also, check out the author’s note on the newest update for some exciting personal news!

MASTERLIST

It had been nearly a month since Steve and Natasha had reunited with Sam and Wanda. Two weeks ago they had a close call with the United Nations in Spain while trying to stop a caravan of smugglers with Chitauri weapons. With the UN on high alert, Steve decided it was best if they kept underground for a while. Luckily, Sharon had a safe house in a quiet village in Switzerland that she made available for them.

As much as Natasha knew it irritated Steve to stay in one place for too long, it was nice to find some form of routine again. She had convinced Wanda to join her on her morning runs around the picturesque village. They would pass the small markets and cafe and make their way to the old dirt roads just as the sun came up and over the mountains. It reminded her of the little slice of heaven in France she had and found herself wondering if James was right, maybe she should stop running and settle down in a place like this.

"Something on your mind?" Wanda asked? Natasha didn't even realize she had slowed down until Wanda's voice broke the silence.

"Huh, oh sorry," Natasha stumbled as she came to a complete stop, "Mind just started to drift."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No." Natasha sharply replied.

"Okay," Wanda slowly turned away with an eye roll, "You keep that wall up then."

"How do you and Vision work?" Natasha blurted out without even thinking. She instantly looked down, rubbing her forehead from embarrassment.

Wanda was clearly stunned as she whipped around with her eyes wide and mouth open. Natasha tried to recover as quickly as she could, "Not like that, I'm not Sam, I don't need to know about your...intimate moments," She said as she now stared up at the sky, "I just mean the distance and the politics of it all. I can't imagine it's easy."

Wanda slowly made her way next to Natasha, "It's not and I won't pretend like we have anything figured out but I care enough about him to try and figure it out," She paused as if deciding how deeper she wanted to go, "If you would have told me a few years ago that I would feel so deeply about a...well, about Vision, I would have thought you were insane but here we are. Sometimes you just don't have any say in the matter."

"Sounds incredibly frustrating."

"Oh, it is," Wanda replied with a small laugh, "but when you have that gut feeling about someone, it's worth it."

Suddenly feeling insecure and vulnerable, Natasha quickly tried to change the subject, "Okay, great, I love our little talks. Let's get back to running."

"No, no, no," Wanda grabbed Natasha's arm before she could start running again, "What's up with you?"

She stayed silent, not sure what to say but also wanting to spill everything. She looked everywhere but at Wanda, who could clearly tell her discomfort but wasn't going to let her off the hook.

"Nat, you never really told me how the trip to Wakanda was."

Natasha snapped her head around to make eye contact, " I think we should finish our run." She harshly replied and ran off before Wanda could stop her.

—- —- —-

The middle of the day was when time seemed to slow down. With no job to do, nowhere to go, and no one to see; the days dragged on at an agonizing pace. Natasha stayed busy by reading, Wanda found a love for cooking, and Sam and Steve played card games.

Steve would video chatted with Bucky once a week to see how he was progressing. Natasha always made sure she was out of the room whenever they would talk, she took what she said to Shuri seriously and seeing him again may risk all of that.

Today was one of their scheduled days to chat so she situated herself in her sunlit filled bedroom with an old copy of Pride & Prejudice she found from the local bookstore. She was only a few pages in when Sam came busting in, "Nat! Let's play some cards." He said with his signature smile.

"I thought that was yours and Steve's thing," Natasha replied with a smirk.

"He's catching up with his one-armed man right now so you're taking his place," He situated himself on the bed, pushing Natasha's legs out of the way, "Come on, the game is Rummy."

She rolled her eyes and begrudgingly closed her book as Sam dealt the cards.

"You know the rules of the game?"

Natasha shot him an unamused glare.

"Okay, okay," He laughed, "Just wanted to make sure."

They played quietly for a few minutes until Sam spoke up again, "So how long do you think Cap will be okay with staying in one place?"

"Not sure be he's only getting antsier from the radio silence. Sharon hasn't sent us any leads on tech smugglers since we've been here which means law enforcement is still on high alert about our movements."

"Well if we don't get a move on soon, I think we're all going to start going a little crazy."

"What, you don't like it here?"

"Maybe if I was old and retired but we've still got a job to do."

"Yeah, but how long do we keep going?"

Sam instantly lowered his card and stared at Natasha, unsure how to respond. Surely the world's best spy, the woman with red in her ledger isn't ready to kick up her feet and simply stop.

They maintained their eye contact until Wanda came in to ask for their help to prepare dinner for the evening.

As usual, dinner was delicious and filled with laughter and pleasant small talk as they avoided all work-related topics. Even though he was laughing and smiling, he could once again tell something was a little off with Steve. After years of fighting side by side, she could really read him like a book.

After dinner, they all helped with the dishes and Steve retired to the porch as Wanda and Sam went upstairs to catch up on some sleep.

Natasha brought Steve a cup of chamomile tea, "You're not very good at hiding it when something is bothering you," She said as she nestled into the chair next to him with her own cup of tea, "What's on your mind?"

Steve took a long sip from his cup, seeming to plan out his next words very carefully. After a heavy sigh, he turned to Natasha, "What did you and Bucky talk about while in Wakanda?"

The panic inside disappeared as quickly as it came. Natasha loudly exhaled and shook her head as she looked out into the dark, "I told him his past doesn't define his future."

"And that was it?"

"No, of course not. I told him he had a long road ahead. Forgiving yourself for the horrors you committed isn't exactly easy." She said with a shrug.

"The horrors he was forced to commit."

"It's not that black and white, Steve," There was an uncomfortable pause as they each took a sip from their mugs, "Why do you ask?"

Steve looked down at his feet and bit his lip before finally locking eyes with Natasha, "Something just not right with him." He replied.

Natasha dramatically rolled her eyes, "Well no duh, he's recovering. He's mentally going through a lot. You can expect too much from him too fast."

"I know, I know it's just..." Steve tried to put the right words together, "When we were in Wakanda he seemed to have been filled with a sense of hope like he knew everything was going to be okay, and even though he says he's fine and is making progress, it just seems like he is deflated."

"When you came out of the ice, after the battle in New York, didn't you feel a little lost? Not sure what your next move was or where you truly belonged?"

Steve didn't reply, there was no need for it. They both knew the answer and knew where she was headed with it.

"Natasha, I know what he's going through is tough but it's not that," He was now pinching the bridge of his nose, trying his best not to sound frustrated, "He's hiding something from me."

The panic lasted a little longer this time before she recovered. "I'm sure he's keeping a million secrets from you and you should probably be thankful for that."

"No, Natasha you're not hearing me," He said, clearly starting to get agitated as he placed his mug down and leaned forward with his hands in his hair, "This isn't about some mission he had when he was the Winter Soldier. There is something personal he is keeping from me. It's why he's been so off during our video chats. I can just tell."

Guilt started to spread throughout Natasha. It's not that she was lying to Steve but she wasn't telling him the truth and she hated it. She was tempted just to tell him everything. Why shouldn't she? Because it's complicated, that's why, and even though she knew that excuse wouldn't fly with Steve and it certainly didn't help her sleep at night, she didn't feel it was her place nor the right time to discuss it.

"Why don't you go and see him. It's not like we are really doing anything and I know you are going stir crazy here. Just go see him yourself."

"No, I don't want to risk any sort of movement right now."

"Then you're just going to have to trust that whatever he's keeping from you, he's doing it for a reason. You should know what that is like."

He quietly nods, picking up his mug of tea again, "I can always count on you to be the voice of reason can't I?" He replied with a slight tone of sarcasm.

"Always," She responded with a small smile, "Well it's always a pleasure but a girl needs some sleep and you need to relax."

She slapped him on his knees and she got up and dragged herself up the stairs, feeling a little defeated.

As she made her way down the dark hallway, she felt a breeze as she approached her room. It was coming from underneath her door. She instantly froze. Her senses were not on high alert. Her window had been closed and locked all day. There was no fan in her room either. She looked up and down the hallway. There was quiet music coming from Wanda's room but that was it. She pulled out the gun from her waistband and slowly opened the door.

The curtains were billowing in wind coming through the open window. She cleared the dark corners as she hastily tiptoed her way across the room, gun still drawn. She peered down into the darken village but saw no movement. As she turned, something on her pillow caught her eye. She quickly made her way to the bed to pick it up. It was a buckle of the Black Widow symbol, just like the one on her belt. Underneath it was a folded piece of paper with nothing written on it but "Budapest" in distinctive cursive.

"Yelena."

Tag List: @tvjunkie22 @harduy @shanetoo @doralupin01 

[lokis-little-kitten]

Happy Christmas

Title: Happy Christmas Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: EvexAdamxReader Wordcount: 1.4K Rating: low Warning: none Summary: You find go to Adam’s to deliver something at Christmas Eve. You end up receiving a beautiful Christmas present. 

You look around the room. It is Christmas evening when all of the sudden Adam called you up and asked you to please get to his house and bring him a few tuners. So you got up went to the music store you own and got him some tuners as he asked.

You are now on your way walking through the snow. That bastard should be happy that you don’t have any family you celebrate with!

When you arrive your jacket is about to soak, your hair is completely wet and white. Drips of molten snow slide down your nose and face. Your gloves are soaked as well which now are failing to warm your hands.

You bang on the door and scream Adam his name. ‘’Adam! Please open!’’ You’re about to cry because you’re so cold, tired and it is Christmas. Being alone is bad enough, now you can add miserable to make everything even worse.

He finally opens and lets you in. ‘’You look horrible.’’ Adam looks down on you with a hint of worry in his eyes. He is at least a head taller than you and seems a little awkward. You hold out the plastic bag for him in which you carried the damn tuners.

‘’There.’’ He takes it looks in the bag and sees that everything is perfect like he expected. You never disappointed him. You have been Adam’s errand girl for a while now and you quite like it. He often gives you some early listens and he has the most amazing retro instruments he allows you to play every once in a while.

But there are other times where you would rather give him a good crack over the head and leave his needy ass. He only wants you to come at night, doesn’t allow you to drive here, asks for the most impossible things on the most impossible times.

He also has been asking you for the most ridiculous little things lately. Like today, Tuners! When you just him he swore to never use those ‘Goddamn Curses’ as he called it. Whenever you asked he simply snarled at you that people change their minds. You’ll probably never find out what’s going on in that head of his.

The truth is that both he and Eve slowly started to fall in love with you. Eve has been a lot more open about her affection towards you- never actually telling her true feelings to you- but Adam hasn’t been… well, nice.

‘’Adam,’’ her voice rings through the hall. She comes out and smiles at you. ‘’Y/N, Adam hadn’t told me you would come around today. Oh my, you are completely soaked. Come take all of those wet clothes off I’ll give you something of mine to wear until your clothes dry.’’ Eve already starts to take your jacket off and takes it to the living room to hang it in front of a fire.

She then comes back and notices you’re still freezing in the hallway. ‘’Come here!’’ She pushes you upstairs to go and change. She pulls out a shirt and some thick pair of trousers for you. She also gives you some clean underwear and gives you a smile.

‘’There,’’ she smiles, ‘’when you are done changing you can come down and warm yourself at the fire.’’ You give her a smile and runs a hand through your hair. You really like her, she is kind and gentle. She is very caring. ‘’Thank you.’’

Eve looks at you jumper and smiles. ‘’Already in the Christmas mood,’’ she smiles at you. ‘’Well, it is Christmas eve so I was celebrating when Adam called.’’ Eve her face drops. ‘’Today is Christmas?’’ ‘’Well, tomorrow but yes it is Christmas evening…’’ She turns around and walks out of the room.

Okay… Odd. Then again, everything is odd with them.

Quickly you get out of the cold clothes and put on the once Eve gave you. Afterwards, you want to walk out but pass the bookcase. You see a golden shimmer between all of the old books. It is muffled away after some other books but you can see it a little. You push away everything else and pull out a beautiful copy of Pride and Prejudice.

It may sound odd but it is hard to find a copy around here. In the library, someone else always borrows it before you can get your hands on it and the one small bookstore always sells every copy the moment it gets in. Almost like you are cursed and simply unable to get the damn book.

They wouldn’t miss it for a few days, right? You’ll give it back as soon as you are done reading it. Quickly you wrap the book in your clothes and go downstairs.

Adam and Eve sit at the fire cuddling. ‘’So, I will be going then. Thank you for letting me in but I still have to walk home, you know… ‘’ ‘’Don’t be absurd,’’ Eve complains getting up. ‘’Come, give me the clothes so we can dry those up a bit.’’ She wants to take them from you but you pull back.

‘’Really, I’m good. No reason to hang around!’’ Eve already lays her hands on the fabric and pulls it out of your grasp. The book drops from them and comes down with a loud thud. Your eyes widen and your breath stops in your throat. Their gonna kill you… You’re sure of it.

Adam sits up as well and frowns while Eve picks up the book. ‘’Pride and Prejudice, good choice. Would you like me to pack it so it won’t be damaged.’’ She takes it from you and walks to the kitchen leaving you completely baffled.

‘’Next time,’’ Adam then chimes in, ‘’just ask. We don’t mind you borrowing stuff.’’ Your eyes almost pop out of your head. Did angry, grumpy, mean Adam just waved away stealing? You must have heard it wrong.

Adam bites his lip but then starts talking again. ‘’I’m really sorry I asked you here at Christmas eve, we haven’t celebrated it in ages so we kinda forgot about it. I’ll bring you home in a moment so you can at least enjoy the rest of the evening.’’ What is happening?

Did Adam- your Adam- just offer to bring you home? ‘’Thanks?’’ He stands up and pulls you into a hug. You’re shocked for a moment and completely freeze. He never hugged you. Didn’t matter what, when how. He. Never. Hugged. You!

When you manage to unfreeze you hug him back and quickly melt into his body. Strangely enough, this feels normal. Like you came home to a warm fire and blankets to keep you suited. Almost as if you were a child again cradled by a loving father.

‘’Adam,’’ Eve’s voice pulls you from the wonderful illusion, ‘’it’s time for her to go. It’s late.’’ He straightens up a bit but doesn’t let go just yet. You, however, and just stare at Eve. You just hugged her husband but she doesn’t seem bothered by it… at all.

Weird people…

She hands you a bag with your clothes and a brown package. The book. ‘’There you go. I hope to see you soon again, darling.’’ She pulls you into a hug as soothing as the last one. ‘’Yeah, just call me if you need anything.’’

Afterwards, Adam gives you your coat and drives you home. You chat a bit, which is odd once again until you're at your flat. ‘’Thank you,’’ you smile and step out of the car. ‘’Y/N, wait.’’ You turn back at him with wide questioning eyes. ‘’Here,’’ he hands you some money, ‘’for the tuners.’’ As usual, it is at least three double of what he is supposed to give you but you have given up on arguing with him.

Again you thank him and then step into the snow. Quickly you get to your flat and start a fire in the fireplace that is positioned in the living room. You have a white tree in the room filled with purple and green decorations.

You sit down on your smaller couch and carefully open the brown paper package. The book is as beautiful in your home as it was in theirs. You open it up and find handwriting in the inside.

Dear Y/N,

You can keep the book about this beautiful love story. I hope you put up with us for a long time, darling. We don’t want to lose you just yet… Happy Christmas,

Adam and Eve.

You smile and press the book to your heart. You don’t know what is going to happen but you know it is the start of something beautiful.

Permanent Taglist @sherlocksuperfan666  @ms-marveleous  @straya4lifemate@ lexiiiii28 @ thegoddessnyx02 @marvelfangirllll  @gingers-writing king-stony@mr-hiddlestons-pet@ dark-night-sky-99 @metalheadspider @fuckthatfeeling @ god-save-loki @ devilbat  @mariekoukie6661 @darkprincessloki92 @ gravitational-anomaly @ welpsher @ umi4724 

Taglist @may-bereblog

[cbk1000]

Book Tag                                                        

Tagged by @garglyswoof

1. Favorite book of all time?

If I pick one, all the others will get jealous, and anyway, with much hand-wringing I could maybe provide a top ten list of books that are very important to me for one reason or another, but picking one solitary favourite is an impossible task, and I won’t attempt it.

2. What are you currently reading?

Leucippe and Clitophon. It’s one of the few surviving novels of Ancient Greece, and it’s delightfully bizarre, and also features an argument about how gay sex is better than straight sex, but I’m not sure it can hold a candle to that one Roman novel that involved bestiality, a man getting his face peed on, and the protagonist twice escaping peril thanks to the timely arrival of some explosive diarrhea.

3. Have you ever considered writing a book?

Why yes, yes I have. It’s the one great existential crisis of my life, actually, thanks for asking.

4. Favourite series?

These are probably all going to be fantasy, because no other genre feels like you just absolutely can’t tell a story unless it’s 22 1000+ page volumes long. (If anyone wants to call me out here, let me just point out that there are 13 fics in that series, the first three are around 30 pages, and even the longest one is only about 200. It’s about 1400 pages altogether, which is like one and a half volumes in The Wheel of Time series or whatever. So THERE.)

Phedre’s Trilogy. I love Jacqueline Carey’s worldbuilding and the concept of a bunch of pansexuals running around doinking each other and playing dangerous political murder games.

Imriel’s Trilogy. See above. There’s actually a third trilogy set in the same universe a couple hundred years later, but honestly, I didn’t find it as compelling and didn’t read the third book. The first two are grand, though.

The Banned and the Banished. I read this series as a kid and it was dark and fucked-up and further proof that my parents left me to my own devices when it came to reading and really did not vet my books, because this would have made the TIMMY SHIELD YOUR EYES list for sure. The image of a naked woman parting her knees and a bunch of spiders crawling out of her vagina is still, for obvious reasons, viscerally with me.

The Deathgate Cycle. Another childhood favourite. Just a really good old school fantasy series with some great worldbuilding; I’ve been eyeing them again lately because I’ve been in the mood for some fantasy.  

The Chronicles of Narnia. I’ve made it really clear that I’m not remotely religious, so you’d think the overt themes of Christianity might annoy me, but these are just great stories, and honestly, I don’t find them overly preachy; I think C.S. Lewis’ writing has so much to take away from it, whether the reader is devoutly faithful or an unrepentant sinner like myself.

5. Book you’d like to read?

Sea of Darkness by Brian Hicks. This is actually one of my dad’s Christmas presents. It’s about the history and discovery of the H.L. Hunley, a submarine that sank during the American Civil War. 

Nicholas II: Life and Death by Edvard Radinsky. I spotted this at the used bookstore Friday afternoon and it immediately called to the obsessive Russophile part of me, so I had a flick through it and decided I must own it. Then I remembered that I was pretty sure I’d seen the Russian edition in one of the bookstores I use for all my Russian reading needs, and rushed home to find it. I did nick a copy from e-bay, so it’s now on its way to me, and, weather permitting, in about a week we will find our way into one another’s arms and I can read yet again about the brutal demise of the Romanovs and wring my hands over it, except this time in Russian, so with 3x the misery for half the price.  

Neil Gaiman’s The View From the Cheap Seats. This is a collection of essays on writing and creating that I’ve been eyeing for a while because Gaiman has such a great attitude about writing and seems like such a down-to-earth guy who probably has some great things to say about literature and the way it shapes us. 

 The Telling Room by Michael Paterniti. It’s about cheese. Also, Kelly’s descriptions of it really intrigued me.

And Quiet Flows the Don/Quiet Don (It’s literally just Quiet Don in Russian, but the English title is And Quiet Flows the Don, I’m sure because a lot of English speakers have no idea that it’s a river in Russia.) This is a massive War and Peace sized novel on the Don Cossacks during the turbulent years of WWI and the following Revolutions that I’ve been meaning to read for a while; I’m just waiting for my Russian vocab to catch up; I think I’m going to attempt it soon.

7. Favourite fictional character(s)?

D’artagnan, the little poncing YOU WANNA’ GO?? shit

 Edmond Dantes/The Count of Monte Christo, because I aspire to those levels of revenge but I know I’m far too impatient to carry out anything so glorious.

Magdalen from Wilkie Collin’s No Name because despite restrictive Victorian conventions meant to keep women in their parlors with a dainty cup of tea, she said ‘Fuck you all, I’m gonna’ steal back the rightful inheritance you cheated me out of through cunning and deception’ and went on to outwit a bunch of men.

Pierre Bezukhov from War and Peace because he’s such a great bumbling dweebus of a well-meaning Russian aristocrat, and I’ve always had a soft spot for him

Elizabeth Bennett, Pride and Prejudice. She destroys men with only her words; a true rolemodel for us all.

8. Book Ships

Elizabeth Bennett/Mr. Darcy

Sarra Ambrai/Collan Rosvenir from Melanie Rawn’s Exiles series. At one point I was so upset by something that happens to this couple that I actually threw the book across my room

Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler; they’re both terrible people, and tbh I think Scarlett totally gets what she deserves in the end, but their push and pull is so entertaining.

Jo and Laurie from Little Women and, ok, I know it doesn’t happen, I know this book was published over a century ago, but I’m still salty about it, all right??

9. Pick up the book closest to you, open page one and write down the first paragraph.

The closest book to me is a Russian translation of Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth, so I walked over to the closest available English books and picked one at random. It’s a collection of Keats’ poetry:

Now Morning from her orient chamber came,

And her first footsteps touched a verdant hill;

Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame,

Silv’ring the untainted gushes of its rill;

Which, pure from mossy beds of simple flowers,

By many streams a little lake did fill,

Which round its marge reflected woven bowers,

And, in its middle space, a sky that never lowers.

10. What’s the 1st fandom you were in?

I don’t remember ever really participating in any fandom related to books. I do remember when I was a kid getting pretty into an online forum dedicated to Quest for Glory (90s point and click fantasy game), though. 

Tagging: @sunoftheguns @terriblygrimm @goldcaught @maevelin @darthrey @hellsbellschime @samcarter34

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

20 stunning editions of classic books you'll want to add to your library

Books are the gift that keep on giving.

Not only are the stories within them capable of transporting you to far off lands and through thrilling tales, but they are prized for their beauty as well.

Yes, we know you aren't supposed to judge a book by its cover, but come on, book covers matter. It's the reason why publishers constantly push out new editions of old books. If repackaged properly, an old book can become just as popular as a new one.

Moreover, book covers are actually, literally judged. There are competitions and awards for book cover design. So don't feel bad if you find yourself trading in an older copy of a classic novel for a newer, sleeker edition. We guarantee that you're not the only one doing it and we're here to help.

SEE ALSO: Endlessly creative bookstores show how much we still need more books from women

We've compiled some of the most stunning editions of classic novels you should think about adding to your bookshelf, because they are simply too beautiful not to buy. Some of them are from very limited runs and may be tough to find, but knowing they exist is the first step.

Welcome to your beautiful future library.

1. Dune by Frank Herbert

A post shared by Ajay Kotian (@lordalbus) on Feb 6, 2017 at 1:19am PST

This edition of Dune is part of Penguin Random House's Penguin Galaxy collection, a celebration of some of the best sci-fi novels of our time. Other titles in the series include 2001: A Space Odyssey and Stranger in a Strange Land.

Price: $17.85 on Amazon

2. House-themed Harry Potter set

A post shared by Juniper Books (@juniperbooks) on Mar 31, 2017 at 7:22am PDT

If you are unaware, Juniper Books specializes in taking some of your favorite books and wrapping them in exquisite book jackets, especially books sets. The above Harry Potter sets are just some examples of their work. As you can see, all Hogwarts Houses are represented so that you can make sure to get the set that fits your needs. But be warned that they are not cheap.

Price: $275

3. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

A post shared by Jude | Vancouver (@mybookbath) on Jan 28, 2017 at 2:04pm PST

The editions of Pride and Prejudice that exist in the world are countless, but this one is the only one that matters. The book is part of the Faux Leather Edition series done by Penguin and includes many other classic novels as well.

Price: $39.99

4. The Beautiful and the Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald

A post shared by Steff (@pekingenten) on Dec 23, 2015 at 9:22pm PST

If you're going to read a book about the Jazz Age, you might as well make sure the book looks like the Jazz Age. Penguin released a line of hardcover F. Scott Fitzgerald books all draped with beautiful gold foil designs that veritably scream of the Roaring '20s. 

Price: $26

5. The Illiad and The Odyssey by Homer

A post shared by Ashley H (@biblio.babble) on Mar 27, 2017 at 6:23am PDT

Perfectly capturing the tumult that is in both of Homer's classic tales, this Barnes & Noble Collectible Edition of both epic poems together make the stories look as cool as they deserve to be. The only downside of this version is how thick it is. While it looks good on the shelf, it may be impractical to actually read.

Price: $32.57+

6. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

A post shared by Jem Cope (@jemlovesbooks) on Mar 27, 2017 at 8:36am PDT

This small and stately copy of one of Jane Austen's classics was designed by Mr. Boddington Studio's. Unfortunately, this particular copy of the book is no longer being produced so if you must have this edition, you'll need to be willing to pay a hefty price to a reseller.

Price: $285.86+ from Amazon

7. 1984 by George Orwell

Image: the folio society

You probably already have a copy of 1984, either from school or from buying it after the ascendency of our new president. But if you are still missing this Orwell classic in your life, why not get an edition that embodies the full-on creepiness of the story itself?

Price: $56.95

8. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

A post shared by Dean (@deansreads) on Apr 8, 2017 at 3:58am PDT

James Joyce isn't everything's favorite author, but a cover this beautiful will have no trouble at all ingratiating itself right onto your shelves. Added bonus: This book is also known as one of Joyce's most approachable novels, so you should actually try reading it instead of just looking at it.

Price: $17

9. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

A post shared by Aria Violet (@aria_violet66) on Apr 2, 2017 at 2:17pm PDT

Joseph Conrad's classic tale gets revived in this fully illustrated version of Heart of Darkness from Tin House. Now you not only can read about the horror, but you can see it too.

Price: $20

10. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

A post shared by Coralie Bickford-Smith (@coraliebickfordsmith) on Apr 5, 2017 at 2:28am PDT

Just one of many gorgeous Penguin Clothbound Classics, this robust tale of adventure gets a more modern makeover with a cute pattern of elegant jellyfish. These will be hitting bookshelves in July, but can be pre-ordered online now.

Price: $24

11. The Lord of the Rings trilogy

A post shared by Bluestocking Bookshelf | Jen🇺🇸 (@bluestockingbookshelf) on Jan 20, 2017 at 6:17am PST

It feels like every publisher has its own version of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and this makes it difficult for those of us trying to find the absolutely best edition of the series, one that appropriately invokes the fantasy of the story while also looking beautiful on the shelf. Look no further than this Juniper Books set. Together, the spines of the three books come together to make the fabled Doors of Durin. Speak friend, and buy this set right away.

Price: $95

12. Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

A post shared by Mark (@reallyfoxed) on May 10, 2016 at 8:59am PDT

White's Books released an impeccably designed set of classic novels in 2010 that included this edition of Sherlock Holmes. The books were instantly popular among book lovers and were snatched up relatively quickly. Now that these books have stopped being produced, securing yourself a copy can be quite difficult and the price you'll need to pay varies depending on the third-party seller.

Price: $9.89+ on Amazon

13. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

A post shared by Aamina Ali (@min_ah365) on Apr 7, 2017 at 5:24pm PDT

Penguin Drop Caps, a series of 26 books that highlight one great author per letter in the alphabet, may be the most Instagrammable books ever created. The cover of each simply features the first letter of the author's last name, but each uniquely designed to fit the tone and context of the book. With a stately B for Bronte going up in flames, this book is the right way to read Jane Eyre.

Price: $22

14. American Gods by Neil Gaiman

A post shared by Southcart Books & Comics (@southcart_books_and_comics) on Mar 15, 2017 at 2:59pm PDT

Just in time for the TV adaption on Starz, this collector's edition of Neil Gaiman's popular novel puts all other editions of American Gods to shame. Illustrator David McKean created 12 incredible illustrations to accompany this version of the book, including three double-page spreads.

Price: $120

15. The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights boxed set

Image: amazon

Here's another stunning boxed set that can only be purchased through third-party sellers, because nice-looking books are apparently in high demand. This clean and sophisticated book set for Arabian Nights is designed by the same person who does Penguin's Clothbound Classics series and the Fitzgerald series above.

Price: $499.75+ on Amazon

16. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery

A post shared by Maple and Palm Creative (@mapleandpalm) on Apr 12, 2017 at 8:05am PDT

Colorful, whimsical, and cute, this edition of Anne of Green Gables would be right at home on both child and adult bookshelves. This book is part of the Puffin in Bloom series, a collection of four tales for children all designed with a similar theme of bright flowers and flowing typography.

Price: $16

17. The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

Image: Penguin random house

Embrace the darkness with this edition of Edgar Allan Poe's famous poem, The Raven. Not only does it have a compelling cover, but the book is part of the Penguin Horror series which was curated by filmmaker Guillermo del Toro. If he approved this edition, it's probably fit to go on your bookshelf.

Price; $23

18. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

A post shared by Maddie (@blighted_star) on Oct 30, 2016 at 4:55am PDT

As another perfect entry in the Penguin's Clothbound Classics series, this cover of The Count of Monte Cristo hints at the intrigue and drama this story is all about.

Price: $30

19. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll

A post shared by Jolene (@jolenecreation) on Mar 8, 2017 at 4:21am PST

You could probably dedicate an entire bookshelf to different editions of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and you still wouldn't have enough room to fit them all. But it's hard not to want to collect them all because so many of them look so good, like this edition from Barnes & Noble's Collectible Edition Series.

Price: $21.48

20. Moby Dick by Herman Melville

A post shared by Ands (@andsreads) on Mar 19, 2017 at 4:48am PDT

Moby Dick is long. To attempt to read it is basically the literary version of hunting down Captain Ahab's infamous white whale. But the challenge of reading it seems less daunting if you are tackling the feat with this edition of the classic.

Price: $9.68+ on Amazon

WATCH: Someone designed a notebook that can last forever