#when I mention the bookstore embarrassment I mean that it was pretty much the closest to interaction we've had with someone across counter

[sepiasys]

Hi I'm having a fun time with a headache still and uh I'm *ig* stressing over getting a job but not really but maybe

Idk

We's gotta get used to talking to ppls

The embarrassment at the bookstore we went to was enough andbsbdndb

[dourpeep]

WAIT. I'm losing my mind over that friends to lovers post you reblogged. All I can think about is college Albedo + mutual pining, romantic tension, and friends to lovers OTL

- Leaving little post it notes in his bag or inside the cover of his textbook to tell him to have a nice day or remind him to take care of himself because you know he has a tendency to work too hard sometimes!! And what if he meets up with Sucrose and Timaeus because they like to catch up and sometimes discuss their research or homework, and they see Albedo hiding a grin behind his books and think that he's solved a particularly difficult problem but it's just a cute little note you slipped him when he wasn't looking

- You stay up studying for exams with Albedo and he dozes off on your shoulder so you sit there afraid to move because you don't want to wake him but you're also dying inside

- The two of you go to the library to work but eventually get distracted so it turns into the two you sitting close together on a couch and reading each other sections from your favourite books

- I can also see him as someone who rambles about labs or new research he's absolutely taken by. Weeks later when you mention something he said before, he's a little surprised but you just tell him that you tried your best to understand everything because you know it's important to him and maybe his heart skipped a little

- Going off your headcanons: Albedo looking for little specimens and deciding it could be a fun outing with Klee so she can get some sunshine and you find the two of them in the park. You end up joining them and Albedo's heart softens seeing you and Klee laughing and smiling together!

- I remember this little headcanon you had where he snorts when laughing sometimes and imagine Albedo letting one slip out while he's with you, and Kaeya teasing him later on.

- Eventually, his friends start asking if the two of you are together because of the silent affection and teasing between the two of you. Albedo knows he likes you but he's scared a relationship will ruin everything and you're too important to lose even if it means he never says anything, but little did he know, you have feelings for him too.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day and week! Sorry about this monster of an ask lmao

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR ALBEDO

NEVER

Like... there are two characters that I seldom, if ever, turn down and that's my beloved Albedo and beloathed Scaramouche- If you don't want me to shut up about a topic??? Like just utter word vomit???? Bring them up. Bring them up, I dare you--

Okay okay okay okay now lemme just--

oops. 1.4k words. Enjoy your headcanon drabbles, courtesy of me being a hard simp for Albedo--

College au Albedo is pretty close to how he normally is! Brilliant, though having difficulties with making friends and keeping said friends, getting carried away with experiments (did you know if you're on good enough terms with the professors, they'll vouch for you so you can use the lab when there aren't classes using them?? Yeah)...so the friendship that you have with him is certainly the closest one he has.

It'd be the kind where you knock on his dorm or apartment door at 11:45pm with some takeout and your textbooks and he'll let you in without a second thought. You slip inside and settle on the floor next to the coffee table cross-legged, setting the food out as if you don't live a good walk away. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon anyway.

Like the kind of friendship where your hand instinctively slips into his to tug him towards something cool you found or to the café where you tend to go after classes.

Even after you get to your destination, you don't let go.

Now that that has been established--the little notes you slip into his bag or on his books really began as a little reminder. Despite his keen intellect, Albedo tends to easily forget things because his mind is always going onto the next thing. So, being the great friend you are, would just slip a note to remind him to take breaks, eat a snack, or that you're supposed to go and meet Sucrose and Timaeus after class to prep for the upcoming exams.

Neither of you really know when they began to turn into doodles or 'seemingly platonic declarations of adoration'. It's normal for friends to write a heart besides "Don't forget I love you!", right? Yeah.

The smile that makes it's way on Albedo's face is unmistakable the moment that Sucrose accidentally stumbles upon a sticky note carefully tucked in one of his notebooks.

-

Speaking of Albedo and his tendencies to get carried away with stuff, he often functions on...minimal sleep.

Those nights that you pop up at his place to study or just hang out, he often ends up dozing off, glasses sliding uncomfortably down the bridge of his nose and hair tousled out of it's usual style.

You never plan to stay the night (though even when he's awake he insists you do because it's not as safe at night to make the commute home), but you can't just disturb his sleep when it's the first time in a while that he's probably gone without taking a capsule or two of melatonin to help himself back into some semblance of a sleep schedule.

It's these moments that you remember just how soft his hair is and just how nice his shampoo smells.

Also that he's a cuddler.

You awake in the morning, back aching and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the world around you and limbs tangled with your best friend. He's unbothered because his face is half-shoved against the crook of your neck.

-

With the library, you often find yourselves in a little game. There's so much to learn and so, so many topics through the old vanilla-scent found between pages!!

So trips to the library end up with the two of you digging and sifting to find a topic you've never heard of, sit and read for 15 minutes, then proceed to explain said topic the best you can (without looking!!). It almost always ends up with a few chuckles from Albedo as you fumble explaining (and half-making up) information and Albedo's (unfairly) great short-term memory winning out.

Speaking of...between actually studying and your little topic games, Albedo turns to you to bounce off his current observations and ideas. Sucrose and Timaeus, though both in similar majors as Albedo, are busy with their own projects and research to the point that they don't really have the time to help with stuff as extensive as his research.

Annnnd, naturally, since you don't have anything better to do and are almost always by his side, you play that part!

You listen intently no matter how dense the subject may be and no matter if you do or do not have the background knowledge.

When you ask him to explain something you don't quite understand, he can't help but blink in surprise because you were listening??? And wanted to really understand? You prove time and time again (even days, weeks later) that you listened to every word that tumbled out during his rambles.

And of course you do! Albedo's one of the most important people to you, so it's only natural that you want to show interest in his interests.

Also it's pretty cool to find out those random bits of trivia (like lobsters and their repairable telomeres-).

--

Klee!!!

Oh man, the first time that you met Klee was a pretty hectic day for Albedo. Due to his Aunt Alice's incredibly busy schedule, he tends to care for Klee on days that he doesn't have class.

However, that particular day he just barely finished class before he had to go and pick her up from school.

With you in tow, that is.

Immediately, the little girl brightens up at your presence, no doubt excited from what she's heard about you (listening in to Albedo's conversations with Alice and the embarrassed tone in his voice when he realizes that he's let your name slipped again and now Aunt Alice wants to know about this particular friend who's captured dear little Bedo's attentions). He's relieved when Klee doesn't immediately reveal that.

From then on, Klee insists that Albedo invites you for every outing they have.

The cafe for a quick treat? The bookstore to sit and read a few books?

"Oh, please please please?? Can they come Albedo? Klee promises that she'll be good!"

Who is he to say no?

But above all, those park days are his favorite. You end up running around with Klee, lifting her up so she can reach a particular leaf on a branch, squatting down to see a bug or lizard that she's entirely enthralled by--all while Albedo sits under the shade of a tree on a blanket, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

You don't know it (even though there's many occasions where he's shown you his sketchbook), but the pages are filled with your smile.

-

Around you, Albedo's found that he's most comfortable.

There's no need to hide insecurities or hold his tongue when something particularly exciting comes to mind...nor does he hold back in his laughter. Especially with your insistence that his laugh is cute.

That scenario with Kaeya is entirely an accident, proof of just how used to your presence he's become.

It's a late night and you're out with a bigger group of friends than usual, some friends that Albedo's only known since the start of college, but definitely good ones.

With a drink in your hand you all sit at a large table, chatting about anything and everything when you crack a joke and Albedo snorts.

Not like a snort with his normally quiet chuckle, either.

Instead, he's laughing hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and stomach hurting (and maybe it's because of the few sips of drink he's had) and he snorts. The moment the sound escapes him and he's trying hard to calm back down, Kaeya grins.

He's most definitely one of the first people to put two and two together.

After all, Albedo keeps to himself, even around them. But with you around? There's a certain spark of life that ignites.

-

It's no surprise that the two of you are close when all is said and done.

But that doesn't stop either of you from choking and cheeks from flushing when someone asks if you're a couple. It happens often--too often to count--and ranges between Kaeya's teasing comments and a few sweet words from an elderly woman passing by your table at the cafe.

And you laugh--you and Albedo--because no, no, you're just friends.

Right?

Then the light hits your features just right, illuminating you in a soft glow that makes your eyes shine and--

It's undeniable the way that he feels for you. The sudden quickening of his heartbeat is proof enough. You slide your drink towards him for him to try and he does the same, eyes unable to leave your lips as you take a sip and then smile.

Between the cracks of his appreciation, of this warmth, dread seeps.

Though...that was just over a week ago.

Sitting down back at his apartment, your head resting on his chest and your hands intertwined while you watch whatever's on tv, you shift. Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

And Albedo wonders how neither of you managed to see it sooner.

[lovinkiri]

Okey, hear me out plz. Could you write about Sero, Tamaki, and Bakugou (separately) having a girlfriend who has psionic powers (like the Scarlet Witch) and she is Hawk's protégé. He like to think that he's like some kind of father figure for her so he's suuuuper caring and when he sees her having a smoochie moment with them he goes in PROTECTIVE FATHER mode and he gives the boys the "father talk *ejem...threat*"

Thank u you beautiful living being🌈🧡

Father Figure

Author's Thoughts: I got you bby! I don't write for Hawks so I hope he's at least a bit in character. I hope you don't mind its not headcannons.

Warning: Mentions of violence, threats, etc.

Hanta Sero

You were always like a child to Keigo. The child he'd figured he'd figured he just wouldn't get the chance to have. And though your quirk was different from his, he did a great job training you.

He put in the work, the research, getting to know your quirk. He read records with people of similar quirks, got in contact with those around, all so he could accurately train your ability. He wanted to be the best he could for you.

You grew up so quickly in his opinion. Too quickly.

From graduating high school, to headlining as his sidekick. To finally having a boyfriend.

Keigo was hesitant to meet this boyfriend of yours, but you'd told him how much it meant to you. And he'd do anything for you.

So he played as nicely as he could, staring at you and the boy you sat with.

"So.. Sero.. Are you planning on being a hero?" Keigo looked him up and down with a gaze full of judgement.

Hanta gave a nod, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah. I've always wanted to be a hero. I actually attended UA with Y/n." He looked at you and seeing your smile almost melted the tension.

Almost.

"Hey, Kid, could you go order me something to eat?" Keigo asked you, smiling innocently. Almost too innocently.

You gave him a look. He simply leaned his cheek against his palm, blinking owlishly. "Pretty please?"

Sighing, you stood up and nodded. "Got it. I'll be back." You leaned down and pressed a small kiss to Hanta's lips, something that made his smile tighten.

You looked at Keigo and pointed at him. "Play nice. Pretty please?" You crossed your arms. He gave you a sigh and a nod.

So you hesitantly walked away.

And the smile dropped from Keigo's lips.

"I'll just be straight with you, Hanta. She means everything to me. And if you value life itself, you'll treat her like she's everything to you. That girl doesn't love loosely, so this is nothing short of a honor- no, a privilege for you."

Hanta straightened out, nervous about Keigo's sudden change. "I-I understand, sir.."

Keigo gave a nod and leaned back in his chair, smiling again. "Well, I should hope so!" He chuckled softly.

That's when you walked over. "Here. I got you nachos. Did you two find something nice to talk about?"

The man with wings took the nachos. "Thank you, Chicken Wing. We sure did." He looked you Hanta who stiffly nodded.

You, having common sense though, put two and two together. "... Keigo, I asked you to be nice!"

"The nicest thing I can do for you is make sure he treats you right."

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki was afraid.

You'd told him all about Keigo, how protective he could be. And the only thing you'd promised was that he wouldn't touch him.

You and Tamaki were planning a trip to a nice resort.

You'd needed to grab something from Keigo's house, so Tamaki had to sit downstairs with said man.

Well, Keigo sat down. Tamaki stood in the corner, as far as possible. But he couldn't escape Keigo's glare. And if looks could kill..

It wasn't like he had a problem with Tamaki. He knew Fatgum, and the man hsd told Keigo all about his two sidekicks.

In fact, Keigo noticed that just like you'd become a daughter to him, Fatgum treated his sidekicks like his own sons.

The two often bonded over photos they kept in their wallets, sharing stories. Two parents bonding over their children, that's what everyone else saw.

It was from talking to Fatgum that he knew Tamaki wasn't a bad kid. That doesn't mean he wasn't gonna have a talk with him.

"Listen, Kid. I don't hate'cha. You're one of Fatgum's sidekicks and you seem.. Harmless enough."

Tamaki was sure it that should have offended, but Hawks continued either way.

"But when she needs you, I gotta know that you'll be there for her. She doesn't need you to protect her but if she ever does, I gotta know you'll do it. Take good care of her. I'd hate to end your whole career."

It wasn't like he had a problem with Keigo's orders. Tamaki loved you and would never let anything happen to you. Hell, he'd promised himself he'd be a man for you.

Keigo gave the sweetest smile and Tamaki shuddered, moving more into the corner.

It was the threat that scared him. He didn't know if he meant he was gonna kill him or if he was going to destroy his rising hero career.

You finally came downstairs with the object you needed. "Alright, I'm ready-.. Tama, are you okay?" You walked over, concerned.

"I-I wanna go home.."

You glared at the winged man and crossed your arms. "Keigo!"

Keigo leaned back into the couch. "Thanks for visiting you two, it was a pleasure havin' ya."

Katsuki Bakugou

Keigo was doing an autograph signing at the mall, just where you and Katsuki just so happened to have your date.

"Why do you think everyone is crowding over there?" You asked Katsuki, looking towards the crowd of people surrounding Keigo.

You'd thought his signing would be at another mall, not knowing that the venue had been changed last minute.

"No clue, don't care. Probably some big sale or somethin'. Why, you wanna check it out?" He looked at you, the arm around your waist pulling you closer.

You smiled and shook your head. "Nah. Let's just go to the bookstore then head to the park. Oh, actually, I'm gonna use the bathroom first."

You leaned up and gently kissed his lips, him blushing and returning the kiss in embarrassment.

When you pulled away, he mumbled under his breathe. "Idiot, you can't just catch me off guard like that."

Giggling softly, you winked at him. "Nobody saw. They're all crowded around that big sale."

"Tch. Like I care if anyone sees."

With a grin, you went off to the closest bathroom.

What you didn't know was Keigo was watching you through the crowd of people. He looked up to everyone around him and gave them a charming grin. "I will get back to autographs in a moment. Please, grant me a break though."

The crowd seemed disappointed but left him alone and allowed Keigo to walk off.

He approached Katsuki quickly, who paid more attention to his phone.

"Ahem. A moment of your time."

Katsuki looked up and his eyes went wide at the sight of the number two hero. "Hawks? Was that you over with that crowd then?"

"Yeah. I see that you've been headlining. Haven't seen your face this famous since the sports festival." Keigo chuckled, taking a step further.

Katsuki nodded. "I'm making moves, on my grind. Doing what needs to be done to make my mark."

The pro hero nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you're doin great. There's just.. One thing."

He looked at him in confusion. "One thing..?"

Keigo pointed towards the direction you went in. "That girl you were just with. That's my little girl."

The red-eyed boy looked, following his finger. "Um, yeah. She told me."

Then there was a sudden tension.

"And so.. You understand why I won't tolerate you're bullshit."

"...What?"

"You heard me. You're older, so you're probably not the same brat. But from what I hear, those asshole tendencies are still there, and I won't tolerate it when it comes to that girl. You won't hurt her. And if you do, we're gonna run into a bit of trouble."

Katsuki shook his head. "I.. I wouldn't hurt her." Normally, he feared no adult, minus Aizawa of course. But Hawks was looking at him like he was prey.

"Damn straight, idiot." Hawks chuckled softly.

That's when you came back over. "Sorry babe. Oh, hey Hawks! What are you doin' here?"

The two of you shared a hug. "What's up, Nugget? I was signing was autographs. You two?"

You pulled away and grinned. "Katsuki and I were on a date. This is great, I've been meaning to introduce you guys."

Hawks gave a nod. "Interesting guy, he is. But I should get going. Have fun on your date. And Katsuki, have her home by nine."

[thislassishooked]

How to Carve a Pumpkin (Not Yourself)

Well, I did it, I finished my Halloween fic. This is based on a prompt given to me by the lovely @hollyethecurious

Please excuse anything that looks weird, this was my first time using the keep reading and it kept giving me grief. This is unbetad because I literally just finished it. All mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy!

Tagging some of my other dear friends that might get a kick out of it. @ilovemesomekillianjones @winterbaby89 @xemmaloveskillianx @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @snowbellewells

Rated G (But I may be persuaded to add an M rated sepual since I loves these characters so much)

4200 words

Emma slipped her arms through her jacket sleeves, flipping her hair out from under her collar. She tried to keep the sigh from her lips as her sister-in-law knocked on her door.

 “Just give it a chance, mom,” Henry encouraged from the couch,  “you really need to improve your carving skills. It’s a little embarrassing to have a triangle eye and nose with crooked teeth pumpkin glowing on our front porch every year.”

“Hey, it’s a classic. I recall you creating that same masterpiece not too long ago,” she quipped while ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, like six years ago.”

“Is your homework done?” He nodded. “You get another thirty minutes on the Xbox, then get yourself ready for bed.”

“I got it mom, Mary-Margaret is waiting.”

“Okay, kid, be good for Elsa.” She leaned in to place a kiss on the top of his head and hollered a quick goodbye to Elsa.

“Have fun!” Elsa yelled back from the kitchen.

Mary Margaret’s gleaming smile met her on the other side. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be for a pumpkin carving master class,” Emma replied sarcastically.

“Just you wait. The instructor just moved to town and is a four time Master Pumpkin Carver,” she spoke as the bounced down the steps.

“And that means… what exactly?”

“Don’t you ever watch the Travel Channel?” Emma gave her a guilty shrug. “It means he’s the best in the country. Last year he won with one that perfectly resembled that rock troll leader.” Emma sighed in defeat. “Plus, he just bought and renovated that old used bookstore on Main that I know you loved as a kid.” That did spark some interest in Emma, but she sensed there was more. “And… he’s single,” she sing songed. There it was. The reason she’s learning how to carve a pumpkin at twenty eight years old. Mary Margaret wants to play matchmaker.

“How on earth could you know that?” Emma asked while struggling to find her seatbelt buckle.

“David’s been helping him with some of the restoration. He loves to get his hands dirty so he’s been going in after hours to help get the place ready to the grand re-opening.”

“And does said master pumpkin carver have a name?”

“Killian Jones. He’s originally from Ireland.”

Fantastic, Mary Margaret wants to set her up with a good looking, (I assume he’s good looking), single, master pumpkin carver, hard working, Irishman. What could possibly go wrong?

They arrived at Storybrooke High with only minutes to spare. Apparently Mr. Jones agreed to teach in one of the art rooms and he was doing it for scraps. A mere $10 fee to pay for your pumpkin and carving supplies. Just who was this guy?

Emma and Mary Margaret settled on a set of desks near the back with Belle and Ariel joining them shortly thereafter. Emma was surprised to see August there, but if there was a potentially handsome, single man within a ten mile radius of their small town, August would be there. The man had been on more dates in the last year than Emma had in her life.

“So what do you plan to carve?” Belle asked her after they had settled.

“I don’t know, I just figured he’d give us an example and I’d copy that,” Emma answered with disinterest.

“Oh, you were supposed to bring an image for inspiration, did I not mention that?” Mary Margaret asked innocently.

Emma turned to her sneaky sister-in-law. “No, I believe that was not something you shared with me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry, I’m sure Killian can help you with that.”

At every desk, a pre-selected pumpkin had been placed. Emma studied hers, noticing how perfect the dimensions were. It was as if she had sat down at the only perfect pumpkin in the whole room. Belle’s had some weird warts, Ariel’s was flat in the front, Mary Margaret’s was too large, but Emma’s was… perfect. It didn’t seem fair since she had no intention of carving out any sort of masterpiece.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” an accented voice said from the doorway. “I’ll be your host for the night, does everyone have a pumpkin?” A slew of yes’s answered the man who owned the not at all sexy voice of whom she had yet to see. “Excellent, I’m Killian Jones, lets get started with the basics, shall we?” Emma finally spotted the source of the accent and damn, if he wasn’t the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.

“Isn’t he delicious?” Ariel whispered into Emma’s ear.

“Airel,” Emma admonished, “you’re married!”

“Very happily married, but it doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge a hotty when I see ‘em,” she teased.

“I have to agree with Ariel, that man is a ten on the hotness scale,” Belle added.

Emma looked to Mary Margaret expecting her to reprimand their friends because if there was anyone on the planet that was more devoted to her husband than Ariel, it was Mary Margaret. But all she found was a slightly guilty grimace.

“He is… pretty cute Emma.”

Emma was stunned. Although she agreed with her friends that his dark, ruffled hair that swooped just above his ocean blue eyes and his days old scruff that peppered the lower half of his very handsome face gave him an above average grade in the “hotness scale” as Belle had put it, she was above superficially rating a person. He could turn out to be a total asshole.

“You should all have the tools you’ll need for tonight,” he continued. “A carving knife and a large scoop. Be sure to cut a large enough hole around the stem or you’ll have a hell of a time scooping out the guts. Always remember to keep your knife at an inward angle so the top will have some support when you replace it.”

That seemed simple enough. Emma got to work, every once in a while sneaking a peek at the admittedly handsome instructor as he circulated the room every so often when he took a break from his own carving up front.

__________

Killian had taught many carving classes over the years, but had recently grown weary of the menial job. There was more to his life than a silly tradition of carving a squash in the days leading up to Halloween. It didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy carving his own creation in the comfort of his home, but the “glamour” of being a carving master had spread like wildfire through the small New England town. He had inadvertently become a local celebrity.

When Dave had asked him to host a class because his very sweet wife Mary Margaret had expressed interest, who also happens to be an excellent cook, he could not deny the woman her wishes. David’s help in restoring the old used book store had been pivotal in his dream of settling down in a cozy town by the sea and living as normal of a life as he could. Of course he had come to consider both David and Mary Margaret as dear friends. This class was purely a favor to his friend for all the free labor David had offered when he first found out that Killian had purchased the building. Apparently, the store had been a favorite of David’s sister when she was growing up and he wanted to help restore it to its former glory for her. Killian would have been a fool to refuse the help because David really knew what he was doing. The place was almost ready for its grand re-opening after only three months of back breaking work.

Killian spotted the object of David’s affection not long into his first circulation and approached her with a wide, genuine grin. As he got closer, his eyes averted to the beautiful blonde beside her, clearly struggling with carving the top off her pumpkin. Her tongue stuck out on the side of her mouth to indicate she was concentrating very hard on the task.

“Killian!” Mary Margaret squealed, using her hands to pull his full attention to them. He didn’t need Mary Margaret’s over exuberance to lead him in her direction. The gorgeous woman to her right was doing a fine job of it.

“Good evening, Mary Margaret,” he greeted with a flourished bow and a side eye on her friend.

“Oh,” Mary Margaret caught on very quickly, “this is Emma, David’s sister, well adopted sister, but that’s not really important,” Mary Margaret rushed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Emma…” he knew she had a different last name than David, but wanted to hear it from her lips.

“Swan,” she supplied briskly, not meeting his eyes.

“Swan,” he replied in his most seductive voice. This apparently caused her to meet his gaze. He was instantly mesmerized by her emerald gems. There was something about Emma Swan that left him speechless, and according to everyone he had ever known, he was never for lack of words.

She broke the trance as a pained cry left her mouth. He looked down only to realize that she had cut herself with the carving knife.

_________

Emma had done some stupid things in her life, but cutting her hand because she couldn’t take her eyes off of a relative stranger was high on the list. Her pumpkin was covered in blood and Mary Margaret had started to panic, but Killian flew into action. He grabbed a flask from his bag and raced back to her.

“For some reason we don’t have a first aid kit in the classroom, but I’ve got the next best thing. Give me your hand love.”

“It’s fine,” Emma protested.

“No, it’s not, you’re hurt,” he stated with concern.

Emma offered him her hand which she came to regret when he popped the top of his flask off with his teeth and poured it over her open wound.

“Ah, ah, what the hell is that?” she yelped.

“It’s rum, the closest thing we have to an antiseptic. The burning will settle soon enough,” he said with sincerity. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, Emma, but for now we must stop the bleeding.” He then proceeded to unwrap his scarf from his neck and secure it around her hand instead. His left hand was covered in “pumpkin guts” as he had clarified, so he used his goddamn gorgeous mouth to secure the scarf in place, pulling it tight with his teeth and the whole time never taking his eyes off of hers. Emma was transfixed as he stared into her eyes longer than necessary. She only broke the trance once she realized that the whole class and her sister-in-law were silently watching them. It seemed to bring Kilian back to reality as well. He practically lept from her side and resumed his duties.

It was only near the end of class the he approached her one last time. “How does the hand feel?”

“It’s fine, doesn’t even throb. You can have your scarf back,” Emma offered with an outstretched hand.

“You should probably keep it on for another few hours. What I really wanted to know is, what is your plan for your carving? Everyone else brought a picture of their ideal carving, but you seem to have none.”

“That’s because I don’t,” she stated emphatically.

He knelt down again so he was eye level with her. “What are you passionate about, Emma?”

Emma was taken aback by his rather forward inquiry. She knew that he was only trying to help inspire a stupid idea for a stupid carving that she absolutely had no investment in, but something told her that it meant more. She closed her eyes and the only image that popped up in her head was Henry.

“My son,” she answered with a smile.

Killian nodded his head in understanding. “And what is your son passionate about?”

Emma found her eyes had landed on his again. The sincerity in them burning into her very soul. She only had to think about her answer for a matter of seconds because her son was very transparent.

“At the moment, dinosaurs,” she answered on a laugh. Killian laughed along with her.

“That is very typical of an eight… ten year old?” Killian guessed.

“Ten,” Emma affirmed.

“Tomorrow night I will have what you need to create a dinosaur masterpiece that your boy will love.”

Emma had no words. This man that she had just met expressed a sincere intention to please her son, a boy he had never met, a boy he owed nothing to.

“Will you come by the bookstore tomorrow, love?” The endearment threw her off, but she quickly realized that it was probably a force of habit from growing up in Ireland. “I would like to discuss the details of your son’s passion.”

“Henry,” she said, even surprising herself. She never talked about her son with men.

“Alright then,” Killian said with an adorable lopsided smile, “Henry’s passion.”

“I thought the bookstore wasn’t open yet,” she asked on a whisper.

“For you, love, it is open anytime.” That statement had thrown Emma for a loop. He had said it with such yearning that her body shook, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in some time.

“If I have the time, perhaps I’ll stop by,” she said nonchalantly. That, of course, caused a huge grin to break out across Killian’s face.

“I look forward to it,” was the last thing he said to her before instructing the class to start cleaning up for the night.

Emma stood outside the little shop that she loved so much as a kid. She had debated going all day, but with Henry spending the evening at a friend’s house, she couldn’t think of any excuse not to show up. She knew he was there because the lights were on. The carving class didn’t start for another two hours so she steeled her nerves and knocked on the old fashioned french doors. They were newly painted and looked as good as she remembered.

Her hand was now wrapped in an ace bandage and Killian’s scarf freshly washed. She had managed to get the bloodstain out, but was remiss to return it to him. She heard footsteps approaching and waited on bated breath as he unlocked and opened the door. He was just as gorgeous as she remembered, his dark hair slick from having been recently washed. His spicy scent assaulted her senses and for a moment, she was struck speechless. His face lit up when their eyes met and she was shaken by the desire to pull his lips to hers and find out if he tasted as good as he looked.

“Swan, a pleasure, as always.”

“As always? We’ve only just met,” she teased.

“Aye, but I am sure that every time you grace my presence in the future will be a pleasure,” he said, taking her hand in his and placing a feather light kiss just above her knuckles. Emma’s breath was momentarily lost at the old fashioned gesture. “Please, come in. I have several ideas put together for Henry’s surprise pumpkin.” Her heart swelled at the thought that he had remembered her son’s name.

Upon entering the old store she was overwhelmed by the smell of old books. The musky scent that comes from a well used book has always been a favorite of hers. He had even kept the name she always found cleaver. The Books of Yesterday. It was an appropriate name considering just about all of the inventory was older than her.

“Would you like something to drink, love?” Emma couldn’t help blush at the familiar endearment.

“Um, do you have any cocoa?”

“Of course, with whipped cream and cinnamon, yes?” Emma’s mouth fell open. She was sure she never mentioned that to him before. “Your brother often spoke of you during the renovation and he mentioned that was your favorite beverage,” he clarified. He scratched a spot just behind his right ear, a gesture that she found adorable, then turned to retrieve said cocoa.

Emma took the time to peruse the old shop. He and David had done wonders to bring the magic back to the place she had spent so many hours at as a lonely child. That was before David had discovered she was an orphan that had run away from her group home. Although the adoption was never made legal, Ruth Nolan considered Emma her daughter the moment David had finally convinced her to come home with him. He was already dating Mary Margaret at the time, apparently high school sweethearts, and she had gained a mother, brother and sister all in one night. It was the best decision she had ever made. Well, that and keeping Henry of course.

Killian returned with two steaming mugs of cocoa topped with fluffy white cream and dusted with cinnamon. She smiled as she thanked him.

“I have the carving examples in my office if you’d like to take a look at them,” he said bashfully.

“Lead the way, master carver,” she quipped. As it turned out, he had printed at least twenty pictures of possible dinosaur carvings, many of them too intricate for her.

“Do you happen to know what Henry’s favorite species is?” Emma thought back to the times he had convinced her to watch the Jurassic Park movies with him. He had always perked up when a raptor was on screen.

“He loves the velociraptors as well as the t-rex, but the raptors are his favorite for sure.”

Killian picked out a very difficult carving that almost looked like the raptor’s head was jumping right out of the pumpkin. “I’m afraid this is the only example I could find that resembled a raptor.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I could hardly finger paint as a kid. Not the artistic type, but I think I could handle the t-rex. The one from the Jurassic Park logo doesn’t look too difficult and it is Henry’s favorite movie.”

He pulled the picture from the pile and handed it to her. “And I will be there every step of the way to help you create a masterpiece for your son,” he spoke reverently.

__________

Killian bid Emma farewell after giving her a few books to read that she was interested in. He wasn’t running a library, but couldn’t find it in himself to charge her for them. She had refused at first, but he had managed to convince her with the knowledge that he was certain she would return them in good condition and still very much sellable. He didn’t buy the bookstore to make a profit. He had already done that with his previous job as a stockbroker in London. He had told Emma that after his brother perished in a naval exercise gone wrong, he packed up what little he owned, entrusted his clients with his best friend and coworker Robin and left for America with no plan.

Emma was doing a fantastic job with her carving the next night. She needed help with getting the teeth just right since they were so many of them. Every time he would lean over her to give her instruction he would breath in her lovely scent. She smelled of apples and cinnamon and it was a scrumptious combination. He was remiss to bid her farewell at the end of the night. Tomorrow was Halloween and everyone would light up their creations. Mary Margaret had done a fine job of carving her princess design as well.

“So what are your plans for tomorrow night, love? Trick or treating with your boy?”

“Yeah, just as soon as I finish my shift. Henry is very excited to see my jack-o-lantern. Thank you Killian, for helping me put a smile on his face.”

“And what is young master Henry dressing as for the evening?”

“A pirate. He’s very excited about it.”

Killian beamed at the new information. He and his brother grew up pretending to be pirates as well. They would have sword fights with sticks in the front yard of the orphanage they grew up in. They even went so far as to purchase a sailboat together when it became financially possible.

“And you, Swan? What will you be dressing as?”

“Oh, I won’t be dressing up,” she laughed.

“That’s unfortunate, because I believe you would make a lovely princess.” She blushed at his praise. It was the most beautiful thing.

Emma finished her dinosaur and it was almost a perfect match to the picture he had given her. He was bursting with pride for her.

“Well, thank you again for everything, Killian. Perhaps I’ll see you around?”

“I certainly hope so, love. You do need to return those books that I lent you eventually. But I do hope you’ll visit me at the shop before you finish them,” he said in a pleading tone. She gave him a shy smile, the blush returning.

“Goodnight, Killian,” she said picking up her pumpkin.

“Goodnight, love.” He watched her walk out the door with Mary Margaret, the brunette looking over her shoulder to flash him a conspiratorial smile. He returned it eagerly. He had a lot of work ahead of him tonight to finish his plan.

David had informed him that Emma would be finished at the station by six and picking Henry up from Elsa’s. That meant that he had until 6:15 to get everything set up. Thankfully he had David and Mary Margaret to assist him with his task. Emma’s jack-o-lantern was already out on her front porch. The sun had set by the time his surprise was complete.

__________

Emma and Henry turned the corner that led to their home and she gasped at the sight before her. She parked the car and they both rushed to get out to investigate the glowing creations. Henry was darting between each jack-o-lantern, bouncing on his feet as he observed each one. There were nine in all, each one with a carving of a different dinosaur. In the middle of the pack was the very raptor that Emma had deemed impossible for her. Henry stared at it in wonder, pointing out every detail to his mother.

“Mom, this is so cool! How did you do it?” he asked excitedly.

“I… didn’t.” She knew there was only one explanation and she actually teared up at the thought of him putting so much work into bringing her son such joy. Just then she watched as Killian, Mary Margaret and David approached them. He was dressed as a sexy version of Captain Hook. All black leather and a smattering of chest hair peeking out of his v-neck shirt and vest.

“Wow!” Henry exclaimed. “Mom, look at his costume.” Oh, she was looking alright. Probably more like leering. Henry ran up to them, nearly knocking Killian to the ground as he wrapped his hands around him in a hug. Killian returned the gesture. “Thanks for the pumpkins, Mr. Jones” He then went on to ask him questions about his costume. Emma was dumbfounded at the instant connection they seemed to share.

“Do you like it, Emma?” he asked with an almost nervous smile.

“Like it, no. Love it, absolutely.”

“Emma, I was hoping we could take Henry trick or treating with Leo. Perhaps give you two a little time alone?” Mary Margaret asked with a knowing smile. Emma agreed while gazing into Killian’s hopeful eyes. She had known this man for all of two days yet he had managed to worm his way into her heart.

After bidding the group farewell, she turned to the pirate who was grinning like a loon. She knew just what to do with that grin. Emma closed the gap between them by pulling him in for a searing kiss. He was stunned for about a half a second before returning the kiss with the same fervor. His lips were soft and rough at the same time. She licked along the seam of his delicious lips and he opened for her, groaning as he did. Emma let out a moan of her own at the taste of him. Their tongues tangled as they explored each other’s mouths. Her hands grasped the back of his head just as his ran through her hair. She knew they needed to come up for oxygen soon or they wouldn’t make it inside. She pulled away slightly as Killian chased her lips. She leaned her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily from the impassioned embrace.

“Would you like to come in for cocoa?” she asked him once she had found her voice.

“Very much,” he answered breathlessly. “Will you go out with me Friday night? Dave offered to take Henry for the evening.”

She raised her eyes to his again. His face had grown soft and hopeful. Her answer came in the form of another kiss, this time slow and sweet.

They spent the rest of the evening talking by the fireplace, cocoa in hand. She enjoyed getting to know Killian Jones, master pumpkin carver and owner of her favorite book store.

[meangirlsx]

Ship for @theatricalwriter 

Request: Can I get a for Mean Girls and DEH ship? I'm bi- I don't necessarily have much of a preference- and I'm a Ravenclaw. I'm an avid reader, so much to the point where I buy more books than I'm able to read. I'm also a big writer and I'm hoping to go into a career of musical theatre after college. (I also do a lot of performing in and out of school) I'm always watching something on Netflix like a CW show or Criminal Minds. I dislike divas in the theatre department and math, I really hate math. I also don't like ignorant people?? Or those who just refuse to hear what's true and ignore it. That's a huge no for me. But when I look for a partner, I look for someone who's willing to listen to all of my stupid rants and sit down and watch a movie with me. I want someone who looks past my physical flaws and let's me be me in all my Broadway-loving glory. Also someone who supports me in what I love doing- writing, singing, etc. In a crush, it's pretty much the same thing but I guess someone who I see good in and gives off a good vibe. My mom and my closest friends- also in the drama department- are incredibly important to me so they'd have to at least attempt to get along, if that makes sense. I really relate to Jo March from Little Women, Leah Burke from the Simon series- the bi and plus size queen- and Elphaba from Wicked with a bit of April O'Neil from TMNT. Also, didn't mention this, but I love it when people give me nicknames and I love cats. Thank you sm, ily 💖

(This is longer than I intended it to be oops. I kind of stalked your blog a bit to help with some thoughts because I love you and I wanted it to be really good and a lot of thoughts came)

Mean Girls

I ship you with Gretchen Wieners!

How you met:

You always knew who Gretchen was

It would be hard not to

You didn’t know it, but she always knew who you were, too

She thought you were cute but never knew how to strike up a conversation with you without making a fool of herself

You had just gotten out of rehearsal where one of your fellow cast members had been a diva and you were frustrated

You headed to your favorite bookstore to help you calm down

You were very surprised to find Gretchen in your go-to section

She smiled immediately when she saw you

Her smile faded when she saw that you looked distraught

All her anxiety about talking to you went out the window, because now she was worried about you and that took precedence

“Erin, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You explained that you were dealing with a drama queen, but you brushed it off, saying you were fine

"I have a decent amount of experience with that. Do you want to go get coffee or something? Maybe I can help.”

So you went down the street to a coffee shop with her

You explained everything to her, and she listened patiently and attentively

When you were done, she gave you support and good advice

You could tell dealing with Regina had taught Gretchen a lot about dealing with people with compassion and empathy but also with strength

You admitted that you didn’t peg her for being into books

She explained that Regina had never wanted her to be known as a bookworm, but now that her reign was over, Gretchen was free to love books to her heart’s content

You learned that you had the same favorite types of books, so you ended up spending time at the bookstore together pretty regularly

This also came to include shopping trips

How you got together:

After a few weeks of spending more and more time together, Gretchen found herself liking you more than she thought could be possible in a short amount of time

Every time you talked, she was surprised by how similar you were and how much you could understand each other on a level most people didn’t seem to

So one day she decided to express that to you

She didn’t plan to ask you out

She was too afraid that you would say no

But she wanted you to know how much she appreciated you and how deep of a connection she felt to you

It turned into babbling and before she could stop herself, the words “and I just really like you” had fallen from her mouth

She looked embarrassed and terrified

You gave her a smile instantly to calm her nerves and told her you felt the same

That launched her into another mini tangent about how much she liked you now that she felt open to tell you

Headcanons:

You and Gretchen are always patient and understanding with each other

You get where each other are coming from, you can understand each other’s anxiety and insecurity, and you know you always have good intentions

Your relationship is healing and very healthy

You know just what to say and do to make each other feel better and loved and appreciated and validated

You can rant to each other about anything and know that the other is genuinely listening and caring without any judgement whatsoever

Your relationship has no judgement at all

One of her favorite things about you is your collection of books that’s more than anyone can read, because she has the exact same kind of collection

She loves to go book shopping and clothes shopping with you

You love watching TV shows and movies together but you also love just reading together

She loves to be involved in anything you do, theatre, writing, singing, anything

She loves to come to your shows and cheer loudly, or praise your writing skills, or fawn over your voice

And she loves that joining you in your activities introduces her to your family and friends

She absolutely adores your mom

And she feels like your group of friends was the friend group she was destined to be a part of

She doesn’t have everything in common with them, but that doesn’t take away from the friendship at all

She thinks the most amazing thing is when your passion shows in your eyes and she feels so lucky to be able to witness it and be someone you’re passionate about

DEH

I ship you with Alana Beck!

How you met:

She overheard you in the hallway talking to a friend about an issue you were passionate about

She didn’t want to be rude or intrusive, but she felt passionate about the issue, too, and was excited at the thought of having a discussion with you about it

So she came over and introduced herself, then explained her agreement

The bell to head to class cut you off pretty early, but neither of you wanted to stop talking, so you agreed to meet up again at lunch

At lunch, you learned that you shared the same opinions on a lot of things

You also shared a lot of likes

You even had the same favorite TV shows

You started hanging out to do homework together, watch TV, and sometimes discuss issues in the world that upset you

When you revealed your Broadway nerd side to her, she came to the conclusion that she was doomed

She found it absolutely adorable and also amazing how much you knew about different Broadway-related things and how much you loved it all

How you got together:

During a Friday night CW and Criminal Minds marathon, you glanced over at her and noticed that she seemed nervous and like she wasn’t quite paying attention to the episode

So you paused it to ask her if something was bothering her

She insisted that she was fine

You assured her that you wanted to help if something was going on, but you wouldn’t push if she didn’t want to talk about it

She took a deep breath

“It’s just that we’ve always been really honest and ourselves with each other. And I love that. But I haven’t been completely honest with you and I told myself I would be totally honest with you today and...”

She trailed off, so you took the opportunity to tell her that she didn’t need to tell you everything if she didn’t want to, but you would be there for her no matter what it was

“Well, if that changes after I say this, I’ll completely understand. You don’t have to stay friends with me if it makes you uncomfortable.” She paused for another moment before saying “I’ve had a crush on you since we met.”

You felt relief wash over you knowing that it wasn’t actually anything to be worried about

You told her you did, too

After asking each other a few questions to curb your curiosity about liking each other and not realizing it, you returned to your marathon, sitting much closer than you were before

Headcanons:

She loves coming up with nicknames for you, and you do the same for her

She loves talking about the future with you

She loves hearing how excited you are about your plan and dreams

She likes to imagine your future together

The conversations of your potential future together always involve at least one cat

She is 3000% convinced that you will achieve your dream and become an absolutely spectacular actress and writer

She insists you’re already there and just don’t have the fanbase or professional credits to confirm it

But she’s more than happy to be your biggest fan and support you alongside your friends and family

She bonded with your friends simply over their shared love of you, but they quickly learned that they had a lot in common and now get along as if they’ve been best friends forever

She thinks it’s fantastic that you’re so close to your mom and always does what she can to impress her while still being herself and trying not to go overboard

But she doesn't really need to try

She’s a parent’s dream significant other for their child

Kind, caring, bright, driven, generous, friendly, empathetic, considerate

And she loves you

More than anything

[kfawkes]

The Sound of Silence - [Eggsy Unwin x Reader]

[Hi there! Thanks so much! As always I like to mention how bad I suck and how slow I am lol. SO hope you see this my lovely anon!!! <3 I changed this JUST a bit from the the fight being at the shop instead of the mission because thats sort of just what happened, so I hope you enjoy the slight change :)

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader -- After TGC tech with a little fix it for Tilde ;) (NO HATE K XD)

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst, cursing. ;)

---Read on Ao3!]

The ride back to HQ was quite... too fucking quite. So quiet you could almost hear the imaginary crickets tenacious chirping from inside your mind around you. Singing their sad song of awkward confusion and they weren’t letting up.

The air was thick and everything felt off because you and Eggsy never had these kinds of moments... Ever. And you’d spent a lot of time with the man so that was saying something. But now you were having one and it just felt so... wrong.

It had only been about 40 minutes which granted wasn’t very long in the grand scheme of things, and really you did know that... but the weight still hung heavily and made time pass slowly as if hours trickled by instead.

More painfully slow minutes slid by and still Eggsy didn’t say a thing... Not one single word. He wouldn’t even fucking look at you and that made your blood almost boil.

Except, could you really be upset by his behavior when you sort of knew why he was acting that way? The answer was no you really couldn’t, because if the situation had been reversed you’d have chewed him out into next week already.

But the situation wasn't reversed and even though you knew his actions justified, it bothered you. Maybe you could keep that annoyance at bay before, but it was going on an hour now and even you had your limits.

Before you were fine maybe-- at least as fine as you could be, but this was getting a little ridiculous.

You weren’t going to deal with it a second longer and now the thought of talking to him was the last thing you wanted to do. It didn’t even matter that you didn’t really have a reason to be mad at him... you just were.

It probably had something to do with the long hours and the lack of food. Okay, it definitely did and there was even a part of you that knew you were overreacting...

But overreacting or not, as soon as you reached the Tailor shop you left without even muttering a goodbye.

At first you didn’t know where you’d go... Maybe you’d get some food or perhaps you’d head home to take a nice long nap. Or, alternatively you could go be weird and press your nose to the used books at Hemming’s...

You opted for the less rational of all choices-- but of course you did, and made your way to the bookstore. The walk to Hemming’s was much longer today than it was most days.

Longer and filled with a bit more disappointment than usual. How silly it was to be aching for someone that wasn't even yours...

You liked Eggsy if that wasn’t obvious... far more than you should, which was probably why you were overreacting now that you thought about it. But it was nothing... nothing serious anyway. He was your best friend and your partner; nothing more, nothing less and honestly you were okay with that.

Most people would find it hard to be just friends with someone they were in love with, and yeah some days were worse than others, but for you it sure as shit beat not having him at all. You might not have liked seeing him with Tilde, but Eggsy was happy and that mattered more than anything else.

As you stroll the aisles of that old shop, you ran your fingers along the backs of the books thinking about the day he’d broken things off with her. It pained you to admit it, but you were honestly relieved when he'd broken off their proposal. It was a little hard to see him as a price truthfully, especially with how much he loved Kingsman...

But it was more than that and you knew it. It wasn't that you didn’t like Tilde... she was wonderful. One of the nicest people you’d ever met actually which only made you feel worse about being in love with her boyfriend, but even though she made Eggsy happy; you could see that something wasn’t right there.

That something was missing... there just wasn’t a spark.

What did you really know though? You’d never really felt that spark with anyone either had you?

Whether you’d made it up or not didn’t matter because they weren't together anymore and as much as it sucked to admit; you really were happy about that... and you realized now that you really were in love with him.

If all of todays events weren't proof enough, your lack of control on emotions was.

Can't believe this... in love with Eg-- you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.

You stopped on a particularly old book with breath more hurried than necessary. The book you chose had no significance other than its size and discoloration-- and as you slid it from its home, that old scent of paper sept closer. The pages slid open lightly and you pressed your nose to the center of the binding taking a deep breath in as you closed your eyes, pushing those thoughts away.

That familiar scent surrounded you, grounding you immediately. You were still a little peeved, but of course you were... at least you were in a nice quite place where you could think though. Somewhere you could--

“Y/n? You sniffin’ that book..?”

“Eggsy... what the fu-- I’m not... sn... what are you...” You said suddenly, moving your eyes to his as you slammed the book closed; nearly jumping from your skin.

He was standing at the end of the aisle, just... looking at you and still looked angry. Angry and sad, a combination you weren’t a fan of, and even with the strangeness of all that, he didn’t even crack a smile.

“What’s your problem?” You asked suddenly, and maybe a little too loudly too if you were being honest, but it wasn’t like you were in a library...

Plus enough time had passed and you knew this fight would happen one way or another, so you may as well get it over with right?

“What’s my problem?” the expression he wore could only be described as pure shock and even in his pale confusion, he was beautiful.

Eggsy looked away from you then, letting a small scoff release as he scanned the books beside him without noting a word he read. He took in a deep breath as he shake his head lightly, placing his tongue along the bottom of his teeth in thought. “That’s pretty rich comin’ from you, ain’t it?”

“Wh-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” and really, just what the fuck?

When he said that you felt a wave of anxiety pushing its needles into your skin with persistence. Suddenly you were embarrassed now, and for some reason you just wanted to cry... alright you knew the reason, but you didn't like it. It was stupid and you hated that quality about yourself, but pretty much anytime things got a little -- well, like this, you sort of shut down and started crying.

At least since Kingsman you’ve been a bit better at controlling it... right?

Maybe not... So you still didn’t offer a reply. You just watched.

“So... you just know nothin’ bout it then?” Eggsy’s voice was raising a bit as he pointed at you with behind lowered brows. “Got no idea why I’m actin’ like this too I s’pose?”

You didn’t know what to say so you just crossed your arms and shook your head lightly cause really... you weren't sure.

Okay, that wasn’t entire true... you were pretty sure he was pissed about the mission. But you didn’t have an answer that would satisfy him, so continued not offering one at all.

“What the fuck was that back there, y/n?” Eggsy’s voice was raised higher now as he step forward, his eyes burned like coals and his chest was raising and falling so quickly you wondered how he was breathing at all.

Watching this only made you more anxious of course, but it was hard to look away at the same time. It made you more upset too if you were being honest, even though you really didn’t have a right to be...

Your plan back there was a little stupid and yes calling it ‘stupid’ was putting it rather lightly. It was more like fucking insane and it literally almost killed you, but... well, it didn't.

Your plan worked-- got the job done. You were fine, Eggsy was fine... the target was neutralized... So, couldn't you just move past it all? Couldn't you just skip to the part where you watched a crap movie at his place?

The look Eggsy still held answered your question though: He was absolutely not in the take out and action flick mood... No, he was in more of an ‘act like your parent’ mood it seemed, and honestly you were sick of it.

Maybe not sick of it exactly, but you were tired of him treating you like you couldn’t take care of yourself... You may have liked how protective he was but come on, you were an agent too-- so why did he had to make such a big deal about it?

Eggsy took a step closer, his teeth were clenched together so tightly you could see the muscles in his face pulling angrily. His lips were pursed together, locked in place and he was only a few inches from your face now.

This was probably the closest he’d ever been to you actually, and even though he was clearly upset, it didn’t change the feeling that spread around you. And when you scanned the intensity of his face you almost forgot where you were entirely; getting lost in the sea of his eyes.

Seeing him all worked up was actually kind of hot... until you remembered the part where it was your fault.

“I... don't--” You started with hesitation, but didn’t make it far. When nothing else attempted release, you shook your head again looking to your feet with a shrug. “I don’t know what you want me to say.... It worked out alright, Eggsy... Everything is--”

“Are you takin’ a bloody piss.” he interrupted you, and it was a question... technically.

It was obvious he wasn’t impressed as he looked down at you from his full hight; his breath fanning across your neck in soft waves, sending chills across every surface, and you felt yourself almost pulling closer towards him...

“What do you want from me?” You asked lightly, “I made a choice. I did what had to be done, and if you don’t like it then... I don’t know what to tell you. This is how I do things-- this... It’s our job to make sure the mission get’s finished. No matter what.”

“Cut the bullshit would ya?” Eggsy’s azure eyes were still dark, and pained. He shoved a hand through the mess of his hair as he exhaled tiredly, starting only a hair lighter than before. “You nearly got yourself killed, an you jus expect me t’sit round and say nothin’ bout it? Ain’t gonna happen-- ever. Cause it was fuckin mental what you did. You com--”

“You don’t get to talk to me about making bad decisions alright, Eggsy? You’re the fucking expert on making bad decisions-- you’re impulsive as fuck, you don’t think about anything before you do it, yet you’re scolding me for doing what it takes? Where the fuck do you get off?” and when you said it, you wished you hadn’t... You stopped sharply almost feeling the pain as if it were your own.

Why you always got mean when you were defensive was beyond you, but you were pretty sure you'd learned about that in some psych class before... The bottom line however wasn’t why you were a bitch, it was that Eggsy didn’t deserve it.

No one deserved it really, but least of all Eggsy. Note to self: work on that.

Immediately he pulled his face in, a thick sadness spread like liquid over his face as his lips parted and his eyes danced between your own. “So that’s what you think of me...”

“N-no. It’s not.” You crossed your arms again looking away, feeling more embarrassed now than you had before. Which 5 minutes ago you wouldn’t have thought possible. “Really...”

You didn’t even notice those watching from between the books until now... but you hardly cared, and hoped at least they were enjoying the show.

“But, Eggsy, it’s... you can’t just-- try to stop me from doing my job just  because you don't like the way I’m doing it.”

“So I’m just s’posed to watch the girl I love get herself killed then, yeah?”

When he said that, the whole room went still.

Your eyes widened further as your lips parted, releasing a soft breath of near awe. He looked away from you then, shifting his gaze to his feet as he pulled a hand to rub at his temple anxiously.

“That’s not... I don’t mean...” Eggsy stopped again, taking in a deep breath as he run his tongue across his lips softly; pulling them between his teeth.

You still hadn’t said a word, because honestly you were so shocked you weren’t sure if you’d just made it up or not and clearly talking wasn't your strong suit today.

“You ain’t gonna have t’remind me again... I’m goin’.”

And still... you didn’t say a thing.

Even though you seriously had been dreaming of a moment like this since you first laid eyes on him... Even though there was nothing more you wanted than him.

You watched as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, then turned to leave... you watched as he walked slowly away and disappeared around the corner of the aisle...

And still... you did nothing.

You just stood there, until all of a sudden the sounds of the store came back into focus, and you realized it wasn’t just some late night fantasy. He’d really just told you he loved you...

Eggsy he... he loved you and he was walking away. You had to... go.

Fucking go!

Suddenly you moved forward, that voice pulled you quickly, shoving you after him and honestly you were nearly running.

At first you couldn’t see him, and you were scared because you just needed him to know that you were sorry, that you really should be more careful... but mostly you needed him to know that you understood, finally. You understood and you loved him too.

You thought maybe it was too late, that he’d left... But then you saw him again and he looked so fucking sad and beautiful you could honestly cry.

He was up by the door already, but you pushed forward pressing passed anyone in your way with ease. You reached Eggsy just seconds before he could press his hands to the door, and you felt relief spread from your place of contact like a shot to the arm.

You grabbed his arm softly, stopping him in place and in one solid motion you pressed into him, sliding your hands to the sides of his face like you’d done it a thousand times before. And you kissed him... softly at first, but as the seconds went on each press was more ardent than the last and it was pure perfection.

There weren’t many words adequate enough to describe how his lips felt across yours... but if you had to name a few, ‘incredible’ would be among them.

It felt like somehow you’d just been waiting for this. For this moment right here...

Like you’d been waiting for him and you realized this was it.

The spark.

[friskarm]

doctrine of fundamentally good/you can be good, part 1

Pairing: Yuri/Natsuki Words: 1957 Summary: Sayori suggests an exchange - Natsuki reads one of Yuri’s novels, and Yuri one of Natsuki’s manga. Things are softer than you’d expect. Author’s Note: woweee i said i’d write it!!! i say part 1 bc i hope i’ll write more to this one day. gonna write their bookshop date eventually, and i have more planned after that...but for now, have this.

It’s Sayori who proposes the exchange at first – Natsuki’s used to trading quips and barbs with Yuri; finds comfort in it even, but apparently it makes everyone else nervous (Yuri can give as good as she got, Natsuki insists, but Sayori seems to think Yuri a fair bit frailer than she really is).

“You need to understand each other more! Then maybe you’ll stop fighting all the time!” she declares, to the both of them. It’s a stupid idea, really. There’s no way in hell Natsuki will make her way through one of Yuri’s doorstops, and like hell Yuri will ever pick up manga. Well, not that the idea is unpleasant – there are a fair few manga who make an effort to be technical and difficult to read, but Natsuki has no experience there, and she doubts Yuri has to will to look.

You can’t read Yuri’s emotions from her face, but her eyes – wavering, always wavering – tell a louder truth than any expression she pulls (which is usually some degree of nervousness, bless her soul). Which is why Natsuki knows, as soon as the words tumble out of Sayori’s mouth, that Yuri is about as pleased as she is (read: not in the slightest). There’s a reason they fight – because they have their own niches, and they happen to be contrary. If Yuri wants to read words that give Natsuki period cramps, then she can do as she pleased.

Which was why it knocks the air out of Natsuki’s lungs when Yuri closes her eyes, nods once, and mumbles, “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed…”.

She should have seen it coming, honestly. It’s not like Yuri’s ever had any backbone to speak of (unless Natsuki dared to insult her 2edgy4me string of words you’d only ever find if you read a thesaurus back-to-back, but okay).

“You’re kidding me, right?” Natsuki blurts out – Yuri jolts. Natsuki makes a mental note to lower her voice. “You’d actually read manga…?”

Yuri threads her hair between her fingers, frowns and focuses on something that’s not really there. The displeasure is gone from her eyes, replaced by genuine worry now. Wonderful.

“Um…I mean…sure…” Yuri eventually forces out, wilting under Sayori’s aura of optimism. Because yes, reading something you hate will definitely bring you closer together. Of course. Natsuki grits her teeth and resists the urge to rub her temples. If Yuri’s into it, she has to comply.

“Alright then, if you want to…” Natsuki says, with a lot less of her normal venom and a lot more uncertainty than she’d wanted to betray – Yuri won’t miss it, but Sayori will.

“Great!” Sayori squeals with delight, and Natsuki can’t help the warm feeling in her chest. Yuri’s threading intensifies – she’s excited. Everyone’s excited. It’s infectious, damn it. “Tonight, pick out something from home that you think the other will like, and tomorrow you can share!”

At home, Natsuki rifles through her shelves in search of a something, an anything that might appeal to Yuri. Which isn’t easy, considering her shelves are full of cute-girls-doing-cute-things and other slice of life fare. She ponders on romance for a while, flipping through page after page of probably-a-little-too-dumb shoujo heroines and their bad boy love interests. Even if the male love interests are a little edgy, it’s still probably not…anything that would appeal to Yuri. Natsuki huffs, and lies down and her bed. All she has is cute things, lighthearted things – the exact opposite of what Yuri likes (she’d know, more than anyone, considering just how suddenly passionate Yuri got about literature whenever Natsuki opened her mouth).

“There’s nothing…” she mumbles, before rolling off to sift through the stuff in a pile beside her bed – the rejects, but maybe something Yuri would like? There had been a lot of magical girl works suddenly turning dark – nothing Natsuki was particularly interested in, but – ah!

Natsuki dusts off the cover, and flicks through. It’s a magical girl story, but it’s perfect.

The next club meeting is – nervewracking. Natsuki’s there early, too early, and paces the length of the room until the others show up. Yuri is late, slipping in with a quiet apology and hunched shoulders. Sayori looks on with eager eyes, but has a book of her own to keep her occupied. She won’t interfere, unless Natsuki and Yuri come to blows again (uncomfortably likely), which means they’re on their own. And it’s not like Yuri will be the first one to approach, which leaves Natsuki.

She takes a deep breath. Here we go.

“Well, I suppose we should exchange our stuff now…” she says, and it comes out a lot less confident than it really should – Natsuki doesn’t like betraying anything more than is really necessary but god help her, she’s nervous. She’s pretty good at keeping those thoughts back but what if Yuri laughs at her for not being able to read it properly? What if she stopped thinking about stupid things like that and just handed over the damn manga? Natsuki puts a stop to her stupid stupid thoughts, and tries to let herself relax. It’s comforting that Yuri doesn’t look much better.

Yuri just nods, smiles a little as she pulls out a book that thankfully doesn’t look too thick and offers out to her. Natsuki takes the book, weighs it in her hands. The cover is plain; a picture of a girl on the front with little to no emotion.

“I tried to pick out something light-hearted,” Yuri mumbles, threading her hair between her fingers ahead. “I know you like cute things…”

“Thanks,” Natsuki mumbles, face reddening. Ugh, why did this have to be so embarrassing? She pulls the manga out of her bag and thrusts it forwards. “I tried to find something you’d like, too. It starts off light-hearted, but keep going. Something happens…”

She tries not to give the twist away too much; but she doesn’t want Yuri to stop reading before it gets to the good part.

“Puella Magi Madoka Magica,” Yuri says, reading the cover and dragging her eyes over the far-too-cute girls on the cover. “I like the cat thing. She looks very cute.”

Natsuki has to stop herself from laughing; instead she puts on a straight face and nods.

“So, uh…let’s get started?” she says, hesitantly. Yuri settles down with her back against the wall; her usual spot. Natsuki takes a chair at the closest desk, sits down, and opens the book.

The title is pretty; she can’t quite figure out how to pronounce the surname of the author but that doesn’t really matter, she supposes. She flips to the first page – and winces. Words, and words, and words. Words she does know. Words she doesn’t know. Words she thinks she recognises but doesn’t quite remember.

Natsuki grimaces. Yuri’s been considerate, but not considerate enough apparently. It takes her minutes to get through the first page, she hasn’t even finish the chapter by the time Yuri’s stood up and god, she’s finished already?

“I love it,” Yuri says, and her eyes are shining a little bit like when she talks about her favourite book, and Natsuki felts her chest thump a little because thank god, she knew it, she knew it – “I need more. Did you bring the next book?”

Natsuki shakes her head.

“I only own the first copy. I can show you where the next ones are though, if you want to come to the bookstore with me sometime,” she says, not realising she’s inviting Yuri to hang out until the words have left her mouth and Yuri is nodding gleefully like she’d rather do nothing else. Natsuki puts a hand to her chest. Fast beating heart. Cool.

“So..what did you think?” Yuri says, her voice still painfully soft but full of anticipation. She glances down at the book in Natsuki’s hands – winces when she realises she’s only at page seven, droops even further, “Did you…not like it? You didn’t read very much…”

Yuri has a tendency to look like a kicked puppy when she’s nervous, and Natsuki hates feeling like she needs to look after her, but – damn it.

“No,” Natsuki says, twisting her mouth, “no, it’s not that, it’s – I’m just a really slow reader.”

Yuri doesn’t look convinced, but tries to drop the kicked puppy look, and it almost works, but Natsuki knows she’s still hurt because her eyes are still a little sad. Damn it. Damn it.

“I’m dyslexic, okay?” Yuri pauses, blinks. Natsuki feels her face redden, but she has to keep going. “I can’t read very fast because I’m dyslexic. Books are hard because they have a lot of words and it’s a lot for me to process, and…manga is easier because there’s only a few words, and there’s pictures to break it up.”

Yuri’s mouth forms a tiny ‘o’, and her demeanour changes; gone is the hurt, replaced with guilt and concern and a lot of emotions Natsuki isn’t really in the mood to deal with.

“I didn’t know,” Yuri says, softly. She stops fiddling with her hair – it’s a rare moment of calm, when Natsuki knows Yuri is really listening to every word she says, patient and quiet. It’s nice.

“I try not to tell people,” Natsuki shrugs, looking away, “I can deal with it on my own, and teachers get weird if I mention, so I just don’t.”

Yuri looks at a loss for words, thinking and thinking over things in that big head of hers, so Natsuki tries to get things back on track.

“I liked what I did manage to read, though. It seems like an interesting world,” she says, and Yuri perks up like nothing else – Natsuki feels her heart soar a little more, cracks a little smile even though things are awkward. Yuri tilts her head, thinks of something.

“Would it help if I read it aloud? Would you be,” Yuri pauses, anxiety getting the best of her. Natsuki nudge her lightly to try and encourage her, “okay with that?”

Natsuki shrugs, nods. It’s not ideal, but – it would help.

“I use audiobooks at home for Lit class,” she says, “so, yeah. It would help.”

Yuri hesitates, heads over to her usual spot with the book in hand and pats the space beside her. Natsuki swallows. Whew…

Natsuki gingerly takes a seat beside Yuri – face flushes as Yuri wiggles closer, places the book on her lap but close enough so that Natsuki can see, shoulders touching, hips side to side…

Yuri’s patient; she waits until Natsuki’s stopped moving before she starts reading. Her voice is smooth, melodic almost, pleasant to listen to. It’s a lot easier to match the words in Yuri’s voice to the ones on the page, as opposed to trying to read them on her own – all her mistakes in the first few pages hurt a little at first but soon she doesn’t care anymore, just wants to listen to Yuri read and read and read…

Natsuki leans her head on Yuri’s shoulder, takes a moment to close her eyes because everything is so vivid, and Yuri reads so well, so articulately that Natsuki can almost paint a picture of every scene in her mind. The story isn’t quite to her taste, but she doesn’t mind.

Natsuki feels a sigh escape when Yuri closes the book, because club is over, they have to go home, lest the school kick them out, but –

“What did you think?” Yuri repeat the question from earlier, softly.

“I liked it,” Natsuki says, and she doesn’t have to lie, “it’s not something I’d normally read, but I liked it. We should, um, continue this next week, if you want…”

The expression of glee on Yuri’s face strikes Natsuki’s heart with stars.

“I’d love to!”

[disinfandous]

Light Reading

Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

1,939 words - fluff, trashy romance novels, the eighth doctor ;), “disturbing the peace”, crack?

[[I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL POST BC IM A HUUUUUGE KLUTZ SO I’M REPOSTING IT I’M SO SORRY]]

Rose Tyler (much to her surprise, delight, and horror) finds a rather… interesting… romance novel starring none other than the Doctor himself! Try as she might to read it in peace, the Doctor just has to know what’s going on. Why is she laughing so hard?

AO3 

Ever since she began travelling with the Doctor, Rose generally avoided romance novels.

The reason why was simple, really. Every time Rose read a romance novel she just kept thinking of him, of that maddening alien she now lived with. Her mind would wander, unbidden, to dangerous territory, lingering on the eternity in his eyes, the perfect fit of his hand in hers, the warmth spreading in her chest at the sight of his smile…

She couldn’t read a single limerent word from even the trashiest of bodice-rippers without her mind wandering. Romances were, for lack of a better word, hazardous. They did a impressive number on her sanity and she swore to stay away from them for the sake of her health.

Generally, she kept that promise well. She avoided suspicious sections of not only the TARDIS library, but of other libraries or bookstores they happened to visit on their adventures as well. She did her part and stayed away, but Rose didn’t take into account the books not staying away from her, and she certainly didn’t take into account the books actually being about the Doctor.

Suddenly, it wasn’t so much an issue of her mind wandering but rather of whether or not her imagination would be up to par.

Looking back at it, she would certainly claim that it wasn’t her fault. Not really. What were the odds of her finding something like that in this particular library in this particular town on this particular planet? Or anywhere in the universe at all, rather? Slim, she bet. Probably as slim as he was in that suit of his, that’s how unlikely.

Yet there it was. Just sitting there, wedged in between two other seemingly innocuous volumes. It was misshelved, clearly, by the way it was surrounded by cookbooks. She just wanted a glimpse at freaky alien food, not freaky alien Doctor fantasies.

Still, Rose quickly grabbed the book and ducked around the shelves to take a peek anyway. Ever the paradigm of restraint, she decided regret was for the future. She would burn that bridge when she got to it.

A customary glance at the cover nearly left her a giggling mess. It was so cheesy, almost exactly like those cheap paperbacks sitting around in convenience stores. The man emblazoned on the cover passionately embracing a swooning purple-skinned damsel was clearly meant to be the Doctor, even though he looked considerably different. He was painted with a velvet coat and luscious brown curls, dressed perfectly for a position in some sort of Jane Austen novel or something. In the background, partially concealed by gratuitous amounts of blossoming flowers, stood the TARDIS in all of its blue boxy glory.

The title was printed in curvilinear alien script and appropriately translated to the closest English equivalent of its meaning. It read, much to Rose’s amusement: Doctor Sexy. It sounded like some sort of quirky medical drama.

The tagline was just as bad: Fate, passion, desire… He can save the planet, but can he love?

What a loaded question.

Rose remembered the Doctor telling her as soon as they arrived that he recalled visiting this planet multiple times in the past and saving them from a new threat every time. He mentioned, offhandedly, how he figured that the locals must technically consider him some sort of hero or legend by now based upon how well he had been received before. There was no way he could have expected this.

Oh, they thought him a hero alright. Definitely.

She hadn’t even opened the thing yet and it was already too much for her. Her hands were shaking with barely concealed laughter as she flipped between random pages in the book, not really looking to actively immerse herself in it yet desperate for a juicy paragraph or two.

And God. She was not disappointed:

“Oh, Doctor,” sighed Anahi, melting into his embrace, “You came for me!”

“I could never leave you, my poignant weeping blossom,” he professed. “You have captured not only both of my wandering hearts, but my body and my soul as well. My love, I am yours.”

The Doctor placed kisses along the fleshy ridges of her neck, making Anahi squirm like a nurseling in pleasure. His strong, velvet-clad arms held her flush against him yet she still craved more. Anahi tugged at the curls concealing the undoubtedly gorgeous expanse of his bare scalp and groaned in need, the vibrations reverberating onto his lips from their position upon her throat.

“I thought you would never return,” she gasped. “I thought… After the uprising… No, after Drewan…”

“Drewan matters not. He is unworthy of you,” he growled. “He shall never have you. No one shall ever take you from me.”

“Oh, Doctor!”

“My love!”

Rose couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing right then and there, burying her face in the pages of the book, guffaws violently jarring the serenity of the library. Blimey, this was too much. She wasn’t built for this kind of relentless assault.

She had to keep reading.

“Rose?” called a familiar voice.

Or not.

Rose quickly shut the book, shoving it behind her as she twisted around. She backed up against the shelf behind her and plastered on an innocent smile. She hoped, no, prayed, that her cheeks weren’t as flushed as she felt them to be.

The Doctor’s inquiring expression greeted her. “You were pretty loud,” he began, stepping toward her. “What’s so funny?”

“Uhh… Well,” she struggled for an explanation, “S’nothing, really. Jus’… Just this really silly—” she glanced around her, recalling precisely what section of the library she was in—“cookbook I found.”

His face contorted into further confusion.

“Yeah. Uh, more of a joke, really. 1000 recipes not to feed your… your nurseling.” Rose cringed. “Funnier than it sounds.”

“Can I see?” he asked, his confusion melting into that of skeptical acceptance and mild interest. He moved to peer behind her, but she deftly turned and pressed herself even further against the bookshelf so as to block his view. She could feel the wood digging into her arms.

“Nope. It’s not anything you’d like to see. Really. Trust me,” she said, biting her lip to suppress a chuckle at the memory of what she just read.

“Rose, if it made you laugh so unabashedly in a place like this, it’s definitely something I’d like to see.”

“No. Honest. I swear—”

It was at that moment a book fell from its perch behind her. Rose jumped in surprise and quickly bent to retrieve it, startled by the loud thump it created upon meeting the floor. It was one of the books opened for display and she must have dislodged it as she backed up.

The Doctor wasn’t one to waste an opportunity, however, and he snatched the novel from her unassuming hands the moment she shifted from her position of defense. She let out a yelp of protest and dashed to pry it away from him before he could properly witness the cover.

Too late.

She watched in mounting horror as his eyes drifted over the illustration and read the title.

“D… Doctor… Sexy…? ” he whispered, eyes wide. Rose groaned. Here we go. “This is what you were reading?”

She nodded.

“B-but—this doesn’t make sense—why would something like this… Why… What?”

Rose coughed, “Apparently, Doctor, some people think you’re um, well—” she gestured in the book’s general direction—“sexy.”

“That’s…”

“You’ve got a history here, yeah? Hero and whatnot. That’s pretty hot.”

He furrowed his brows and leafed through the pages of the novel, his face reddening as he advanced through it. His increasing embarrassment lessened the strength of her own embarrassment and by the time he looked up Rose felt the beginning of a smile gracing her lips. God, this was so surreal.

“This isn’t even anything like me!” The Doctor cried, incredulous. “I would never—I certainly wouldn’t—I would never do any of this stuff!”

She snickered, “Oh, I don’t know. Seems pretty in character to me.”

“Rose,” he whined. She grinned at him shamelessly. “You know this isn’t accurate. It’s ridiculous! Fantasy fodder. Entirely fictitious!”

“Fiction stems from reality, Doctor.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Not in this case it doesn’t.”

Rose tilted her head inquiringly, “So you honestly think you’d never say a single word of this? All those passionate declarations of love and devotion and stuff?”

“They’re the single most cliché, contrived declarations I have ever had the misfortune of discovering—”

“Oi, that’s a bit harsh, innit?”

“Harsh?”

“They’re not all that bad.”

“Rose, you can’t be defending this? That’s supposed to be me on those pages. This is slander; I am personally victimized.”

“I’m not on about that, Doctor. I agree with you there. Can’t take that book seriously, honestly,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m jus’ saying that those words are the kinda thing people love to hear. Passionate and adoring. Yeah, it’s kinda cheesy, but that’s what stuff like this is for. It’s all self-indulgent. Love for the hopeless romantic.”

He regarded her wearily, but the indignance in his gaze seemed to wane.

“When was the last time you visited? Must’ve been a long while ago judging by your appearance. You said it yourself: you’re like a legend to them. Something distant yet wonderful. Something they can pile their desires onto without much trouble. It makes them happy.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“S’common sense,” Rose shrugged, tongue peeking out through her teasing smile.

“Don’t think so,” he said, “because then I’d be an expert on this.” The Doctor glanced back down at the book in his hands and eyed it with distaste. “Something I most certainly am not.”

Rose sighed, “Oh, tell me about it.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

It was then that a librarian glided up to them, a stern expression on her face. Turns out they have been rather disruptive for the past few minutes, dropping books and speaking absurdly loudly, and she figured it was time to insist upon their dismissal for the sake of her peace-loving patrons. They could come back, she told them, once they decided to abide by library policy.

In other words, they were kicked out.

The walk to the TARDIS had them improperly amused in the end, the Doctor’s previous dissatisfaction forgotten in the wake of other more important matters like going home. Lamenting on the fact that they never seemed to be able to go anywhere without being given the boot, they walked hand-in-hand, smiling like the trouble-makers they were.

“Tell me what you will, but I honestly don’t think you could ever catch me saying anything out of that book,” the Doctor told her upon reaching the TARDIS doors. He no longer bore his earlier offended tone, but he clearly must have felt the need to clarify.

“Really?” Rose asked. “Never call anyone your poignant weeping blossom?”

The Doctor made a face. “Never.”

She just laughed, following him up the ramp inside. Rose didn’t doubt him; he probably really would never say anything so honestly and aggressively romantic. It was an aspect exclusively reserved for the man he never could be, trapped in between the pages of that silly book, only found stemming from the minds of people who honestly weren’t all that different from Rose herself.

She might not have been so tawdry in her own musings, but she couldn’t deny how some things appealed to her immensely. She recalled a sentence from the book that stood out to her almost painfully.

My love, I am yours.

Yeah. It would be nice to hear, wouldn’t it?

[thelastyearinmyforties]

Day 92: The things I read...

I am a reader. I love to read. LOVE. I’ve read two books in the last two weeks and am a third of the way through another, which I started at lunch today. I read fast, and when I get engaged in a story - which is sometimes from page one but many times after a chapter or two - I can hardly stand to put a book down. I stayed up too late the other night finishing one of those books and could easily stay up all night to finish the one I’m reading now. But part of me wants to wait a bit so I can hang out with these characters a bit more. I just love to read! I love to escape into the land the characters inhabit whether that’s the north side of Chicago (in my current book), a dystopian future on an unknown planet, Victorian Europe or the streets of New York City. It’s probably the most relaxing thing I do other than actually going to the spa. 

When I was a kid I was all about Nancy Drew. I read all of them and over the years have been picking up old copies from used bookstores to rebuild my collection. But it wasn’t just about Nancy…I read everything I could get my hands on and for several years read above my grade level. In high school I read fiction, primarily that which was written by Stephen King. I mean he did write a book about me after all. Fine, it wasn’t really about me but at least he spelled my name right. After high school I lost interest in reading, likely because college requires a different kind of reading and I felt like I couldn’t read anything else. When you’re required to read something the joy of it is completely lost. 

Somewhere toward the end of college I picked up a little non-required reading when Field of Dreams came out. After seeing the movie I decided I wanted to read the book, Shoeless Joe, by WP Kinsella. And then I wanted to read other books about baseball, and for a year or so that’s all I read. Then came grad school and well, it was back to a different kind of reading. 

At some point my mind shifted and I only had a desire to read non-fiction, so I read more books about baseball, biographies and autobiographies and that sort of thing. I read semi-regularly but I wouldn’t have called myself a reader, which seems insane now, but you know, life changes and many things change along with it.

After grad school and my year-long internship I started reading a lot of Christian books, many by Chuck Swindoll, designed to inspire and motivate, and I loved them. I know now I was really trying to figure out who I was and where I belonged. I knew I was a Christian but I never felt like I totally fit in. I read books about being single and how that was okay and how I should wait for Mr. Right (still waiting by the way, but that’s a separate blog). I read very little else during this time of my life and while I read a lot I don’t think I would have called myself a reader. I’m a tiny bit embarrassed to tell you that I read the entire Left Behind series. Yes. Every. Single. Book. And I think I even knew they weren’t great as I was reading them but for some reason I didn’t feel like I would be a good Christian if I didn’t read them. Trust me, I know better now. But beyond those books, I was still reading primarily non-fiction, and I might have said I liked to read but I wouldn’t have said I was a reader.

But then came a little series of books about a young wizard with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. I heard about the books but didn’t actually care until then I started seeing the preview for the first movie, and I knew I needed to read the book before it came out. So I bought the paperback and read it on a plane ride to visit my mom. I finished it that night. To be fair, the first book is pretty short. While on vacation I bought books two and three, also in paperback, and I read one while I was there and the other on my way home, finishing it shortly after I got back. And then I had to WAIT. Book four wasn’t out yet and I was dying. I needed it. But here’s the other thing you need to know…I decided that since I started buying the series in paperback that I couldn’t buy the hardcover version. This is still a thing for me with all the books I buy. So I waited for the paperback to come out. I know! It seems insane now. Like I couldn’t check it out from the library or just download a digital version? Maybe digital versions weren’t a thing then. Anyway, the point is, Harry Potter made me a reader again, and I will forever be grateful to JK Rowling for that. I now own all the books in paperback and actually own a hardcover set of the UK versions, which is actually pretty cool.

And then came chick lit and authors like Jane Green and Jennifer Weiner who made me realize that it was okay to be smart and single and that if I was myself the right guy would come along (still waiting!). I found other authors through them, and then…well, then my closest friend on the planet wrote and published her first novel and my world of reading changed dramatically.

First and foremost, reading Tasha’s books (Tasha Alexander…look her up and buy all of her books!) made me realize that I actually like historical fiction and mystery. To be fair, there’s a little romance in them, too, and that certainly doesn’t hurt. I have learned so much about writing and reading and the world of publishing from Tasha, and it’s all made me love reading even more. It’s certainly made me a better writer, and I get giddy every time she sends me an early draft to read. 

Through Tasha I found other genres and other authors - several of whom I now consider good friends. I jump from the cozy mysteries of Laura Bradford (aka Elizabeth Lynn Casey) to the thrillers of Andrew Grant (Tasha’s husband) to the delightful novels of Renee Rosen and Allie Larkin and Christine Son (now Fickel) and the genius that is Bill Cameron. While Bill’s thriller series was a little extreme for me, his new young adult series is one of my favorites - I need more Joey in my life, sir! And there are more. So many more. And of course I continue to find other authors as I explore bookstores, where I usually get myself in far too much trouble but I don’t even care. They’re books!! I do have an eReader but if given the choice, I will always, always, always choose the physical book. There’s just nothing like the feel of the paper, the way the spine cracks, and the way the cover invites me in.

In the past few years I’ve also Kickstarted a couple of books by new authors and without the magic of the internet I never would have known about them. Had I seen the books in the store I’m not sure I would have read them but after supporting them through the process of making the books, I count them among my favorites: Nick Miller’s Isn’t It Pretty to Think So? and Jack Cheng’s These Days: A Novel. I discovered Nick Miller on tumblr and his book was the first project I ever backed. I love that. 

So yeah…now I read all the time. And it’s primarily fiction but I jump around from genre to genre as I mentioned above. The last two books I read were young adult novels - Paper Boats by Dee Lestari and Flower by Elizabeth Craft. I found both of these randomly while searching for other things. That is quite often how I find some of my favorite reads. The book I’m currently reading, Windfall, is the latest novel from one of my favorite YA authors, Jennifer E Smith. Honestly, since I decided I didn’t actually have to be a young adult to read YA books, it’s become my favorite genre. I still love good chick lit, which most seem to call women’s fiction now - Sarah Pekkanen, Allison Winn Scotch, Alyssa Goodnight, and of course, the wonderful Jane Green, who I will never get enough of. I love cozy mysteries and historical fiction and while I’ve tried to love thrillers the truth is, I really just love Andrew and his are the only ones I read. 

I can’t fully explain why I love YA so much. Maybe it’s the joy of living a youth I didn’t experience. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m almost 50 and I want to relive some of those younger days. Mostly I think it’s just the fact that I love good stories and YA authors write some of the best ones around. Don’t even bother trying to argue that point with me. You will lose. The fact is, I’m young at heart. I tell people all the time that I’m actually 12 so it makes sense that this is my favorite genre. 

This has been a very long post but clearly I’m passionate about this topic. I came by it very naturally. Both of my parents are avid readers - mostly non-fiction for them, and my step parents are readers, too. Between the five of us we probably own 3 million books. That might be a slight exaggeration. Or it might not be.

If you stuck it out this long, thanks! If you just skimmed and got to this part more quickly than others, that’s okay. Now you’ve got more time to read a book. See what I did there? 

So tell me…what do you love to read?