at least i found the book confusing

The haus bros try but they aren’t very good wingmen aka how the haus ghosts helped Chowder wheel Caitlin Farmer

- Bitty is helping him make a pie for her. Banana cream, her favourite. While bitty has his back turned, chowder sees the bottle of coconut extract tumble off the shelf, the loose lid allowing a few drops into the mixture. “Ummmm sorry Bitty but I think the coconut extract fell in is that okay? Sorry I didn’t even move it just fell?” It’s very ok because when he invites Farmer over for a slice she takes a bite and her eyes go wide. “Did you put coconut in this? I love coconut!”

- Ransom and Holster invite Caitlin and her friends to the next party. They set Chowder up with a sweet playlist of the best dance songs that the ‘ladies can’t resist.’ When the party reaches its apex Chowder plugs in his phone and the haus goes nuts, but Farmer doesn’t seem to recognize the music. Three songs in, the speakers cut out then come back in, blaring Nsync. Caitlin lights up, dragging Chowder onto the dancefloor, and they dance like idiots together. He doesn’t have Nsync on his phone.

- Shitty left out cheap bear for Chowder and Caitlin to take out to the reading room. Caitlin looks so amused to be out on the roof, but the wind is picking up. Her hair is blowing in her face, and she makes an offhand comment about forgetting her hair tie. Shitty has hair ties! And he said Chowder could help himself to supplies! So he looks for the cleanest looking elastic, pulls up a scrunchie made with red velvet, and Farmer pokes her head in. “Chris! I had that exact scrunchie when I was a kid!” Chowder beams and brings it out. Afterwards he thanks Shitty, who looks confused and claps Chowder on the shoulder.

- Jack is alone in the haus and he’s taking advantage by doing his homework in the living room, where he can spread his books out. He’s just found a great article when the Wi-Fi cuts out, and he doesn’t know what to do even though Holster’s shown him at least three times. Sighing, he throws his laptop in his bag and slips his shoes on just as Chowder and Caitlin come through the front door. “Oh hi, Jack! This is Caitlin! Are you leaving? Did you reset the router like Holster showed you that one time, and then that other time?” Jack just shrugs and pulls his bag over his shoulders. “I’ll leave you to it. Have fun, eh?”

anonymous asked:

Mack, I saw your answer about what books you used to learn how to draw. How you learned to draw with Loomis' figure drawing? His book helped me to draw heads but I can't understand his full body construction method... I know it's a weird question and probably the answer is not simple. Forgive my english.

Hey, Anon. It’s not a weird question at all! And your question is pretty clear.

So, I guess you have a problem with few first part about all that crazy perspective lines and some boxes, right? Sorry about messy doodle! I left my copy in Korea, I cannot remember what’s the title of that part. Anyway, I hope I guess it correctly. 

I totally understand your situation, Anon. To be honest, I’m not a text-friendly person. I couldn’t understand those parts clearly even though it’s written in my first language. Maybe it’s because I had zero knowledge about perspective and so on, but I was kinda person who wanted more images, not bunch of texts. I personally think I can learn more better when I draw rather than trying to understand whole meaning of texts in the book, and I tried to study this book as much as I could understand. I actually read whole book, but the only thing I still remember is Mr. Loomis’ drawing.

And I found this part. I felt this way of sketching with rough&simple lines helped me to learn how to draw full body more believable. This is also simplified skeleton structure, so it’s much more easier to understand anatomy (and it’s actually really fun to draw!) I started with those simple lines, then moved on to muscles. Speaking of anatomy, I’ve never tried to memorize muscles’ or bones’ name, I more focused on drawing them “correctly.”

Summary (step by step) : Simple line drawing of full body bone structure - More detailed(or maybe realistic?) bones and muscles - More more detailed muscles of each parts (Arms, legs and so on) - Head, hands, feet - Perspective

Even though a book gives you all that informations, you need to find a way how to learn, interpret, and use it to your art. And I think you don’t have to follow that book exactly. You can use it as you want. I thought I wasn’t smart enough to understand whole meanings, so I found the easiest part and then moved on to more deeper part. I’m not saying that all texts in an art book are useless, it sometimes makes me super confused and it leads to time-wasting. I don’t think my answer is the right answer because everyone learns differently. If you put effort on finding your own way to use books, you’ll get what you want. Hope my answer is not confusing! I’ll be glad if this helps you at least just a little. Good luck!

All Apologies [Pre- AND Post-Death Tate Langdon x Reader]

Request: “Can you do a imagine where the reader is Tate’s childhood best friend turned girlfriend in HS but then time skip to the present when he just broke up with violet and then the reader comes back not knowing that they were together and him not remembering who she is” - @endlessescape24

Warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, MAYBE SLIGHTLY-OOC TATE, mentions of smut, SADNESS, ANGST?,

Word Count: 1.4k 

A/N: This turned out WAY longer than I expected. Maybe I should’ve broken it up into parts? I don’t know, but please ignore any timeline errors, as I’m sure there are a few in here.


1987 - Summer - Ten Years Old

“She’s starting school in the fall.” Your mother says proudly, holding you close to her. The blonde woman across from her smiles. It’s then that you notice the boy standing next to her. He was a smaller child, with dark blond hair and deep brown eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how pale he was.

Pulling her son over to her, she speaks. “Tate here is going to the sixth grade. Isn’t that right, Tate?” He mumbles something almost inaudible. She pushes him towards you, glaring at you. “Why don’t you two run along now? The adults need to discuss. Privately.”

Obeying, Tate grabs your hand, leading you through the hallway of the foreign house. “Where are we going?”

He grins. “My secret place.”

Turns out, his so-called “secret place” was the basement, which scared you. Even though the two of you were a whole decade old, the dark, creepy place still terrified you. As he dragged you down the steps, he flipped a light on, revealing several rusty surgical tables and blood-caked tools, among other things. Overcome with curiosity, you willingly entered the room and examined everything, begging him to show you more of the house’s secrets.

That’s when Tate knew he loved you, even though you had only met him one time.

1992 - Spring - Fifteen Years Old

“Tate, no, stop it! Come here!” You shout, running after the blond boy. He was currently holding the textbook you needed to study later, running around his house with it. It had gotten to the point where you had chased him outside, and into the front yard. Somehow, neither of you were tired yet.

“No! You have to watch TV with me and tell Parkinson to shove it!” He yells back. Even though you can’t see his face, you know he’s wearing that signature shit-eating grin. You sigh, trying to run even faster. Eventually, he trips on a rock, landing against his mom’s boyfriend, Larry’s, car. This gives you the opportunity to jump on top of him and grab the thick book.

He yelps out in pain, suddenly banging his head against the car door. After a moment of panic, he starts laughing. Soon enough the two of you were (rather intensely, might I add) making out in the yard, ignoring all of the passerby.

That was the first night the two of you made love. And no, it wasn’t on the front lawn. It was in the back one. No, no, kidding. It was in the private comfort of his living room. That’s a story for another time, though.

1994 - Autumn - Seventeen Years Old

“I just don’t see how In Utero is better than Nevermind.” You exclaim, barely paying attention to the lunch in front of you. Tate goes to say something, but you quickly cut him off. “And don’t you even bring up Bleach! Or the MTV Unplugged!”

He sighs in defeat. “Fine. I guess we’ll just have to bang it out later.”

You laugh, looking down at your ugly blue tray. “I can’t tell if you mean actually bang or binge all the albums. I have time later for either.”

The blond smiles, bringing his hand to his backpack. Reaching in, he grabs  his black leather notebook that you had gotten him for his birthday last year, digging for a pen. He sees the confused look on your face as he jots down a simple note. Or so you thought. His pen scribbles on the paper for a much-anticipated second, unreadable to you on the other side of the table. Finally, he tears the page out, folding it neatly, still having not said anything.

You quickly unfold the sheet of paper, seeing the three words in the messy red ink.

Be my girlfriend?

PRESENT DAY - 2011 (OR 2017, EITHER IS GOOD)

“I loved this house.” You say, tracing your hand over the front door, the memories rushing back to you. “He lived here.”

“Who?” The man next to you asks. He was some real estate agent showing you the house. You had no intentions of buying it, but the only way to get in, to relive your times, was to make an appointment. Damn realtors, right? At least you didn’t get the sketchy lady who sold the house to that Harmon family. And that couple who lived in the house before them. You were certain she had sold the house to everyone in the city of angels by now.

Turning around, you can’t help the coldness coming from your voice. “You know exactly who lived here.”

The young man blushes, turning to his bag. He fishes around for a second before revealing a small, golden key. You step aside as he inserts the object into the doorknob, trying to mentally prepare yourself.

Would everything be the same? Or would the furniture be different? Would the walls still be that cream color that Constance loved so dearly? Would the lights still be the same? The floors? Would the bloodstains still be upstairs? Would Moira still work here? Foolish of you to think anything would be the same, it’s been twenty years! But, you still clung onto that little sliver of hope in your mind.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door clicking open. Immediately looking around, very little is the same. The walls were now painted a very ugly color, the floors were blood-free, and the lights had been replaced in some rooms. The furniture was nice, but it was not the kind you were used to seeing in the house. Not Constance’s old vintage stuff. It was all new things.

“… but I’ve been told the Estate is open to sales. I’ll make myself useful in the kitchen, you just… Explore.” You suddenly hear the man speak from behind you. You shoo him off, closely examining parts of the foyer. He rushes off towards the kitchen and you follow into the living room.

It’s a blur of how you found yourself in Tate’s old bedroom, a hysterical mess balled up in the corner. The corner where the two of you would sit and read that stupid book about birds, and he would be so excited to share the moment with you. A grown woman crying in the bedroom of an emo teenager.

“Hey.” Someone says, lurking in the doorway. Nodding, you stand from behind the dresser. Looking up, you see just who you least expected– Tate Langdon himself. “You okay?”

“Tate!” You cry out, rushing towards him.

It’s another blur of how you found yourself clung to his cold body, him being very confused. He lets you hug him for a second, but gently eases you off a few seconds later. 

“Do I know you?” He asks, still confused.

“Do you know me? Of course you know me! We’ve been best friends since we were kids!” You exclaim, grinning. Your happiness is quickly brought down the he says… 

“I don’t think I know you?” In that moment, your heart crumbled. You were absolutely distraught. You were too busy trying to get him to remember instead of getting yourself to remember. Tate is dead. Tate has been dead since that day in 1994. He was shot some ten-odd times. You went to his funeral, you saw him be buried. Well, not technically, as it was a closed casket, but still… He was dead, but he was standing in front of you.

The time passed by so quickly that you didn’t even register that the realtor had forgotten about you. Two or three hours back, he locked up the house and drove home. 

“Remember that time when you took my science textbook the day before Parkinson’s quiz? I think we were fifteen, because it was a couple years before we started dating. You started running, and I chased you all over the house for that thing.” You laugh quietly. He stares, blank. “You slammed your head on Larry’s car and we kissed for the first time. Later that night we… You know.”  Blushing, you glance over at him, half expecting him to suddenly know. He didn’t though.

As the night grew darker, your ambition faded. He bid you farewell as you stood at the top of the stairs, exhausted and depressed. As you turn around and take the first step down, you feel yourself fall. And fall. And fall. 

a brief commentary on Denna

So, after having finished the Kingkiller Chronicle (or at least the first two books, The Name of the Wind and A Wise Man’s Fear) by Patrick Rothfuss, I found myself poking around reddit (oh God, when will I learn?) and across the startling revelation that a LOT of people really, really don’t like Denna.

To me, that’s confusing. What has Denna done to inspire so much hate? Being in the ASoIaF fandom, I’m more than familiar with fans despising female characters for the most mundane reasons. For most people, it seemed to boil to down to a few things:

  1. She leads Kvothe on/doesn’t want to commit to him (even though he’s a “nice guy”)
  2. She “friendzones” Kvothe
  3. She flaunts her patrons around Kvothe, and that’s… mean? (I guess?)

All three of these reasons are so confusing to me, because they all seem to revolve around one thing, that is Denna isn’t giving Kvothe the romantic attention some readers think he deserves. They believe that since Kvothe is kind to her and gentlemanly, that she owes Kvothe her romantic attention.

Which is such bullshit.

Deoch explained that Denna is trying to survive by way of her patrons. She doesn’t want to resign herself to being someone’s wife or picking up a useful trade; she doesn’t want to be tied down or stay in one place. So, she roams from place to place, offering her companionship in exchange for luxuries that only rich men can afford. She certainly doesn’t love any of these men, but she needs them to help stay afloat while still retaining a good measure of personal freedom. She can leave these men whenever she wants, before they start demanding things of her that she doesn’t want to do, and in the end she escapes (largely) unscathed and with enough amenities that she can survive off of. Even Kvothe understands this way of life.

And that’s because Kvothe does the exact same thing. Kvothe can walk away from anyone, any place, without a second thought. Kvothe is more than willing to exchange his talents for some money and a place to eat and sleep. Kvothe in his own way effectively “friendzones” Denna by insisting to himself that he won’t actively pursue her like other men too, because he believes he’s above the mistakes that men make with Denna when trying to capture her attention. And when Kvothe finds his sexual awakening after his time with Felurian, he develops a reputation for being non-committal in his romances and sleeping around, a reputation that Denna had caught onto by the end of the second book.

So why do people hate Denna? Something tells me that a bunch of men in fedoras reading the books saw something in Denna that they’ve seen in women that have rejected them in their personal lives. They translated her fleeting but non-committal affections with Kvothe as her “friendzoning” him, while completely ignoring the fact that Denna, in several ways, particularly in the romance and lifestyle department, is just a female Kvothe.

Which is not to say that people aren’t allowed to dislike Denna. But if your reasons include any of the above, then quite frankly, your reasons are shitty.

So I guess this just rounds back to one fundamental thought: If you hate female characters for the same reasons you love male characters, then you’re a misogynistic piece of shit.

Heartless by Marrissa Meyer

So this is my first review of the year and I must say I am a tad rusty! I picked this book up mainly because I read the lunar chronicles and fell in love with Marrissa Meyers writing style. I also love fairy tales and Alice in wonderland is one of my favourites. But also just take a moment to appreciate the beauty of this cover!! It’s stunning! Round of applause to the publisher and the artist, this is the perfect book cover!

Now onto the actual contents of the book. This is a spoiler free review so if you want to discuss the book in more details with others who have read the book I can create a discussion!!

First of all I feel like the continuity with Alice in wonderland and all the nursery rhymes and fairy tales included was amazing. I felt the same with the lunar chronicles, it’s clear that the author does her research in what she is writing and it’s also clear that she likes what she is writing! One of my favourite characters was Hatta and I felt like not only did he bring the original mad hatter to life, there was also a cheeky hint of Johnny Depps hatter, which pleased me greatly!

I love the use of the characters plots and how they relate to the main character Cath, and I loved every single one of them! I think that the joker was also written amazingly and I completely fell into their story.

The book is filled with plot twists and references to all sorts of other stories which I feel sets it apart from other stories. Although the original versions are clearly in the story, the characters story held it’s own and you weren’t held down or confused by other references.

I think this was a really good point of view story and has never been told before. It also gives background to a few Alice in wonderland characters that are pretty shocking!

I absolutely loved this books and really hope there is a sequel or that at least Meyer doesn’t take too long writing her next book! This book is appropriate for younger readers (like 11+) but I feel like it can also be enjoyed by older readers who are a fan of Alice in wonderland! I also found it was a really quick read even though some parts were pretty emotional!!

The next book I am reading is the Red Queen by Phillipa Gregory, clearly I am in the mood for red monarchs! Let me know if you’ve read this book so we can discuss it!

anonymous asked:

1. The fifth time they meet, it is because she seeks him out at the Royal castle. It is several weeks after he allowed her to escape from the Dark One’s dungeon, and she has recovered fully from her wounds. She tries to tell herself to let that be their final interaction – he had the opportunity to end her life, but chose not to, which means he’s moving on from thoughts of vengeance. She should lie low and permit him to walk that path without having to deal with her - the person he blames.

2. She should also be making the most of her second chance, moving on from her old life and family. And yet, if there is one thing she can’t do, it is to let go of her son completely. Facing an existence without seeing him is even harder when another version is so close. So, against her better judgement, she finds herself one evening pushing her dinner to one side, taking a deep breath and allowing her magic to transport her away.

3. She reappears next to a bench set amongst some rose bushes. It is a small, private side-garden, accessible only to those who know both where the door is hidden and also have the key. The bushes look cared for, so she can tell at least someone tends the plants inside. Her instincts told her to come her, so she settles on the bench and waits. A long time passes, her fingers becoming cold from the breeze. Her wounds may be healed but her body is still more tired and sensitive than before.

4. Finally, when the last of the daylight has vanished and the stars have made their appearance, she hears the sound of a key in the lock. Someone enters, closing the door behind them, and then footsteps near. She waits patiently as the person approaches, letting herself smirk slightly when the feet come to an abrupt halt. ‘We’ve spoken before without guards,’ she pushes, when the silence lingers. Henry – King Henry, as she always has to tell herself – moves into view.

5. ‘How do you even know about this place?’ he asks, a curious expression on his face instead of exhibiting fear or hatred. She supposes that is definitely a step in the right direction. ‘I gather you read that book back to front several times?’ she replies, already knowing the answer. He nods, choosing to lean against a statue rather than join her on the bench. He’s dressed in typical night robes for this land – not something her Henry would be seen dead in. She smiles at the thought.

6. ‘Well, when we had that year where we were all sent from Storybrooke back to the Enchanted Forest, and I was separated from my Henry-’ she breaks off, pain in her heart at the similar situations. And yet this time, there is no Snow or David or even Belle around her. ‘We stayed in our version of this castle – the entire pathetic group of people. I would come here every night, just to have some peace, and think about Henry without Snow asking me every five minutes if I was alright.’ 

7. She almost bites her tongue when she realizes she’s mentioned Snow’s name. The death of his grandparents and disappearance of his mother is of course all on her head in his eyes – even if she wasn’t the version to actually perform those acts. Henry crosses his arms, but appears to contemplate what she says. ‘If what is written in the book is true,’ he begins slowly, ‘And I’m not saying that I believe it - it could just be your way of trying to trick me.’

8. He glances sideways at this, and she knows he’s lying – he does believe the book, at least somewhat. ‘If it were true though, you two ended up being close then? You and Grandma?’ She smiles sadly at him, and nods. ‘We forgave each other, and became family. She was always giving me ridiculous hope speeches. Emma became a dear friend too. I miss them.’ He bites his lip, clearly turning something over in his mind. ‘If it was so difficult during that year, why did you leave again? Leave Henry?’ 

9. ‘It’s all there in the book, Henry,’ she says gently. ‘I didn’t have a choice about leaving. And I miss him, every single day.’ Silence falls for a moment. Her hands are getting colder, and she rubs them together slightly. ‘I’m not him,’ Henry blurts out suddenly. ‘I’m not your son. I have no memories of growing up with you, or living in that world.’ She remembers then – remembers mistaking him for her Henry when she lay dying. Maybe that is what made him believe in the book. 

10. ‘I know you aren’t my son,’ she admits, twisting her fingers together. ‘That doesn’t mean you aren’t like my Henry in many ways though. You’re him if he had had a very different upbringing, is all.’ He snorts at this, rubbing a toe into the dirt. He looks very much like a teenager in this moment, and nothing like a King. ‘I’m not trying to replace my son,’ she continues, watching his face closely. ‘And if you want, I can leave and you’ll never have to see me or think about me ever again.’ 

11. He becomes quiet again at this offer, and the silence stretches on so long that she makes a move to stand up and transport herself away. If that is his choice, then she will respect it. But as soon as she’s standing, he holds out a hand. ‘I have to welcome all the nobles in the Kingdom to the castle next week,’ he tells her, in an odd shift in topic. ‘I’m slightly terrified that they won’t take me seriously, considering the fact that they’re all at least two decades older than me.’

12. ‘Overwhelm them with polite steeliness,’ she advises him with a twitch of her lips. ‘I became Queen at a rather young age myself, and found if you’re polite but don’t let them get away with anything, the old curmudgeons learn to respect you quite quickly.’ He nods, and at last smiles back. ‘I know, I read the books,’ he tells her. At her confused expression, he elaborates. ‘Our history books, about your reign. When you weren’t trying to track Grandma down, you were a pretty good ruler.’ 

13. She laughs slightly, and shrugs her shoulders. ‘Helped that a lot of them were scared of me,’ she admits, pursing her lips. ‘Not a prudent route for you to take.’ He drops his chin in agreement. ‘Most of my advisors are terrible,’ he confides with a wince. ‘Half of them don’t know what they’re talking about, and the other half want to run the kingdom themselves.’ She knows that feeling well, and extends a hand out, letting it hang in the air between them for a moment in a gesture of peace. 

14. ‘I understand that, I do,’ she tells him seriously. ‘If you ever need another person’s opinion, I’m always available.’ She feels stupid at the offer, but there is a flicker of relief in his eyes, or so she chooses to see. ‘I come to this garden every night myself,’ he informs her. ‘None of my guards are allowed to disturb me here.’ They stare at each other for a moment, with new-found understanding. ‘Good night, Henry,’ she says, and she sees him smile before she transports herself away.

anonymous asked:

I like malec with there two sons better than Madzie with them it was better timing and they seem to have more of a connection with them

Better timing??? Uhm… They barely got back together in book 6, barely resolved their issues but already ended up with a warlock baby and soon after a young shadowhunter while Alec was what? Barely 20 or so?

Like, I have serious problems with Malec having kids because of that mortality/immortality issue, and I still don’t get why CC didn’t give them a girl because Magnus would lose himself with dressing her up f.e. but exactly did they have a better connection with the boys than with Madzie? They adopted Max when Simon found him, they took Rafe in because he had no one, too, but with Madzie they at least communicated, She saved Alec and she trusted Magnus and Alec because they were nice. If that is not a connection I dunno what is.

And another one joins the family! For those who don’t know, I am an avid collector of Le Petit Prince (my favourite book) in different translations. This particular one is in Czech, which was an interesting language to listen to during my brief stay in Prague. I generally try to learn some basic phrases of any country that I visit, but that kind of… failed on epic proportions because I would answer in German without thinking, which perhaps not surprisingly, led to very confused expressions from people. I at least managed prosím and děkuji though, so that’s something, right…?

I think what I found most jarring was the fact that ‘yes’ in Czech sounded exactly like ‘uhh’ in Japanese (あの not えと). It was really hard for me to give a simple response because of the contrast in saying a word that carries certainty that I recognised as expressing uncertainty, haha.

Shame I can’t just think about languages all day. Applications and abstracts are waiting for me…

♫ Antonín Dvořák: Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104, B. 191

anonymous asked:

i agree with you about todd and viola's age. this is something that confuses me when people complain about the characters not being 13-14 in the film (at least i don't think they're gonna be) like i found myself imagining them as 17-18 throughout the whole trilogy. i have never seen 13/14-year-olds acting like they do in the books. i felt that their dialogue, wisdom, maturity etc weren't kid-like at all most of the time.

Yes, totally!! They don’t seem that young anyway so aging them up for the movie doesn’t bother me.

@tieflingsweetheart liked for a hellhound verse starter!

Most of the demons Aryan had to work or associate with were what Aryan would consider… unsavory. He didn’t have much choice - it was work with them or be considered unfit for work, and the consequences there were not pleasant. So to say he held much hope for this one would be inaccurate. He always held a little hope in the back of his mind that they wouldn’t think he was nothing more than a dog they could kick and order around, but… it was a rare occurrence.

His master hadn’t even told him why he was assigned to this guy - was he supposed to be collecting souls? Eating hunters? Tearing apart the demon when they turned traitor? Aryan was confused to say the least, but he wasn’t one to disobey an order, so with the scent he’d been given, he started looking for his next charge. When he found the demon in a bookstore of all places, who looked distinctly unlike the fighters and business men he was normally sent off with, he settled himself behind him, red eyes glowing, and waited until his arms seemed loaded with books before letting out a loud bark to startle the man.

Alice in the Country of Diamonds ~ Wonderful Wonder World ~ Official Fan Book Review

Alice in the Country of Diamonds ~ Wonderful Wonder World ~ Official Fan Book currently retails for 17.56$ CA on Amazon.ca  (yes, even cheaper than on Amazon.com!) and if you ask me, that’s a total steal. Under the cut you’ll find a complete description of what’s inside, impressions and how it compares with the Japanese version - or you just can watch a short flip-through video of the contents :)

Keep reading

Birthday Secret

Request- Oh well I sent one in earlier. But I guess it got eaten. It a was a birthday one where the reader doesn’t say anything about it. But Crowley knows and gets a little mad when no one gets her anything but him (he likes her). I get shy when asking So…

A/N- Sooo!!! This is my first Crowley x Reader I think… *checks* Yup it is! It came out a lot more fluffier towards the end than I ever thought could happen but what are you gonna do about it amirite? It didn’t end as fluffy but it’s there x) He didn’t come out as angry but that’s kinda explained. I really like how this one came out though! Tell me what you think! x)

Crowley x Reader

Word Count- 1133


“I’m sure Y/N will like this,” Crowley whispered to himself as he wrapped your present in a fancy looking cloth before setting it down in its black boxed container that had a red ribbon attached to it. He placed the small box that was still larger than his hand inside the inner pocket to his suit. With a snap of his fingers he was at the bunker with the Winchester and you.

“Crowley?” Dean said once he noticing him when he arrived.

“Hello boys,” he said. He looked around and found you sitting with a book in your hands, “Y/N,” he added with a smile.

You smiled back at him, “Hey Crowley! What brings you here today?” you ask. Though curious, you were just happy to see him.

Crowley was confused by the atmosphere. He thought the three of you would be celebrating, having some pizza or something at least, but no, you were in the library reading like any other normal day. Today isn’t a normal day though.

“I was just in the neighborhood,” Crowley responds. “Y/N did you get anything today?” he asked curiously.

You tilted your head and knit your eyebrows, “Um… No? Was I… supposed to?” you question in return.

Crowley glared at Sam and Dean. How could they have not gotten you anything? They are your friends, right? Or… Was Crowley wrong in thinking today was your birthday? He went through thorough investigation to make sure today was actually the day. He even checked several times before even showing up. Did he get it wrong? ‘No,’ Crowley thought, ‘I’m the bloody king of hell! I have no reason to doubt myself.’

“You okay Crowley?” you question, thinking his attitude a bit off.

“I’m fine darling,” he muttered. ‘Maybe Squirrel and Moose are having some sort of surprise,’ he thought.

He waited for a couple of hours. As the sun began to fall and the moon rise, the Winchesters did nothing. They were blissfully unaware of your special day. Which might not be entirely their fault. You hadn’t exactly mentioned it, in fact you yourself had forgotten that today you were a year older. Crowley was becoming more and more agitated by the turn of events or rather the lack there of.

Dean stood up and went to fix himself a burger.

A few minutes later.

“I’m gonna go get my laptop,” you announced.

Once you were out of ear shot, Dean returned with his plate. Crowley was visibly angry. “You sure you’re okay?” Sam asked.

“Aren’t you idiots going to give Y/N something?” he almost shouted out of anger.

“What?” Dean question, he was clearly confused. Which only fueled Crowley’s frustration. Then you returned. Crowley signaled to the brothers to do something. Dean cleared his throat, “Here,” he said, handing over his burger.

“Oh… Thanks Dean! I was hungry,” you responded.

Sam looked around, “Here,” he said handing over his laptop.

You laughed, “Um… Sam I have my laptop already… Thanks though.”

“Pathetic,” whispered Crowley.

“Are you really okay?” you questioned Crowley again, worry starting to set over you.

Crowley smiled, “I’m fine. Actually. I have something for you,” he said.

“What?” you ask, astonishment not lost in your voice. Crowley pulled out the black rectangular box. Your first impression was, ‘Jewelry?’ It wasn’t that you hate jewelry but there wasn’t much time to wear any and judging from the box, a necklace, would be much worse. Though you were more surprised than anything to even think about whether you would wear it or not. You’d accept just about anything if it came from Crowley.

He handed you the box, ignoring the bewildered looks he was receiving from Dean and Sam. When he saw that you just stared at the box without opening he chuckled, “Well go on. Open it,” he told you.

“Oh… Right…” you mutter as you lifted the lid. You were expecting a lot of things but a silver blade with a strange design was not one of them.

“It’s much like the blade Moose was given except this one is yours. Half the blade is silver and the other half is iron. The runes you see there were quite the bit of work to pull off but it works, they make it so the blade comes to you whenever you need it,” he explained.

Your eyes sparkled with wonder, which caught Crowley off guard. He somehow managed to bite down the soft smile that was threatening to show itself. “Can I try it out? I mean, I don’t want you to think that I think that it doesn’t work but-”

‘How can anybody be so cute?’ was what Crowley was thinking. He chuckled, “Of course you can. It’s yours now. Do with it what you will.”

You stood up cheerfully, “Awesome,” you say. You left the room with the blade in hand.

Dean gave Crowley a look, “You like Y/N don’t you?” he said. Sam’s eyes widened and his jaw hung open.

“What nonsense are you spouting?” he responded.

“You do!” Sam shouted.

“Quite! It’s just… a special day,” Crowley stated.

“Special day?” Dean questioned.

“You morons would know if you cared at all,” he muttered just as you came back.

You sat back down and looked at Crowley, “How does it work?” you question excitedly.

“Picture it in your hand,” he explained.

You look at your hand and try to picture the blade in your hand. It appeared almost instantly. “Whoa! That’s awesome!” you exclaimed. You gently set it down and stood up again to hug him. “Thank you,” you whispered into his chest.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered back. He felt your body stiffen and you felt his shake as he chuckled, “You forgot too? Well then I can’t be too mad at the Winchesters then.”

You smiled, though he couldn’t see, “It’ll be our little secret,” you mutter.

“Where’s our badass blades?” Dean shouted out, interrupting your sweet little moment.

Crowley glared at him, “You don’t get any!” he growled.

“Wait! You said it was a special day… Are you two… dating?” Sam questioned.

Crowley was about to say no but pulled away from him and took his hand, intertwining it with yours. You smiled at your friends Sam and Dean, “Yup,” you answer, pulling Crowley out of the library with you.

“So we’re dating now?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

One you returned, “Only if you’ll have me,” you respond.

“Can’t say no to that, now can I?” he whispered.

You stared into his eyes before you pulled him by his collar, crashing your lips with his.

“Someone is bold today,” Crowley managed to say as you kissed.

You pulled away, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“So have I,” he whispered, kissing you once more.

Hope you like it! x)

You’re worth it

Request: “heyyy, can i request for a Sam X reader? :) The reader has little self-esteem. She doesn’t think she’s pretty or smart enough but Sam reassures her and comforts her. Fluff and smut maybe? hehe. thanks x” by @violetcumberbatch

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: fluff (is that even a warning?), smut, swearing, the reader has low self esteem

Words: 1654

A/N: I should be studying, but instead I decided to finish this one shot for you. So feel honored haha ;)

I looked into the mirror and disapproved of the face that looked back at me. I counted all my flaws, all the things I wished I could change. My nose, my lips, my hips, my stomach… I just didn’t like myself. Why couldn’t I look prettier? I was a disappointment. 

All the women that Dean and Sam hooked up with, all the women they’d ever taken home were more beautiful than I was. They were cute and sexy, with shiny hair and glowing eyes, tight skirts and long, skinny legs. What was I next to them? They were tens and nines. I was a five. I was hiding my flawed body under wide shirts and sweaters and thick jeans.

I was just uncomfortable and I had no one to talk to, no one that would listen to me. I was a bad ass hunter, never afraid of physical pain, I wasn’t afraid of monsters. And so no one, neither Dean nor Sam would ever think  that I had issues with my body or that I was insecure. But I was. I was extremely unhappy with myself. I’d never felt worthy to live with the Winchesters. They were so strong, gorgeous and clever. I was just not good enough.

Sighing, I turned away from the mirror. I left the bathroom and turned off the lights. I went to the library, where my house mates and hunting partners Dean and Sam sat, browsing through ancient books in latin. The room was pretty quiet, they didn’t talk, they were just researching. We had a case near the bunker, in Topeka, a monster that we had never encountered before. 

“Hey boys,” I greeted, plopping down next to the younger Winchester, “did you find something?”

“Not really,” Sam replied, not looking up from the text he was reading, “but we really should hurry, before it kills again.”

I nodded, grabbed the laptop and opened the internet browser. We researched in silence. An hour later, Dean headed out to get us dinner. Sam and I stayed, kept on reading, took some notes, finishing at least three books. But I just couldn’t find anything useful and it was frustrating. I was never really helpful when it came to research. I never found anything important and I was a slow reader. 

“God, I’m so useless,” I muttered, closing the dusty book in front of me. I thought I’d spoken quietly, but Sam had heard me. He looked up at me, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Useless?” he asked. 

Shit. I avoided his glance, avoided his inquiring eyes. 

“Forget it, I didn’t say anything,” I answered, shaking my head and hoping he would let the topic go. But he didn’t. “Y/N, you don’t really think you’re useless, do you?” he insisted, now turning towards me, putting his hand under my arm. His touch was electrifying. My heart beat sped up. I opened my mouth to say no, to tell him that I was okay. But I couldn’t lie. I just couldn’t. 

“I…I just don’t think I’m as intelligent as you are. Not as intelligent as I should be,” I responded, my voice calm and low, still not being able to face him, to look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N, you’re great. You’re the cleverest girl I know. Remember that time when we were searching for the culprit that controlled that vengeful ghost in Massachusetts? Dean and I just couldn’t figure out who it was. And you? You just found out right away. Without you, we would have never been able to find out. And that wasn’t the first time. You’ve saved our asses so many times!” he declared. He lifted my chin up and made our eyes meet. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demanded, “you’re so important to us. You’re important to me.”

I knew he meant it. Every single thing he said. His eyes didn’t lie, he was honest. But there was a voice inside of me that disagreed with him. 

“I don’t know, Sam, I just feel like I’m not good enough for you guys,” I told him, finally opening up to someone, “You guys are intelligent and pretty and nice and I’m just…me.”

“How can you say something like that? How can you think that? You’re the one that’s too good for us! I’ve never met someone like you. Someone this beautiful, someone this hot and cute at the same time. Someone that is a great hunter, but also interested in literature. Someone that’s smart and kind and funny…You’re really amazing, Y/N. I could never…you’re irreplaceable. If I ever lose you, I don’t know what I’d do,” he uttered, talking rapidly, words just flooding out of his mouth without thinking about it. 

No one had ever said something like that to me. It almost sounded like a declaration of love. 

“I know you might not see it the way I do, but trust me, most of the time I’m just overwhelmed by you, Y/N. It’s really hard to stop myself from staring at you and touching you. Please, don’t ever think you’re useless or unworthy. Because you’re not.”

He took both of my hands into his, squeezed them softly. I couldn’t look away anymore. His beautifully shining eyes had captured me, I was lost in them, drowning.

The feelings that I’d locked and hidden inside a box, in a dark corner inside of my heart, broke out. They crashed onto me with an overwhelming strength. 

I’d always had feelings for him, his glance and his touch had always affected me, I’d always wanted to be near him, close to him. But since I thought he wouldn’t feel the same, I’d tried to forget about those feelings, I’d tried to fade them out, to deny them. And now, looking into his stunningly colored irises, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The urge to kiss him was heavy and demanding, I leaned towards him, slowly closing my eyes and then he grabbed my face, pulling me in, connecting our lips. A mix of despair, need and relieving happiness floated in the kiss. He slowly moved his tongue against my mouth, begging for entrance. I opened my mouth and let him in, kissing him with all I had, letting myself go. My hand went inside his hair, caressing and pulling, he moaned hungrily into the kiss.

“You mean so much more to me than you think,” he murmured, his voice was rough and low. His fingers wandered down to my waist, pulling me closer to him, sitting me down on his lap. He caressed the soft skin under my shirt and I explored his back with my hands. We’d never been so close before and I enjoyed every single bit of it, finally feeling wanted and desired. It felt like waking up from a bad dream. I felt alive. And I wanted more.

“Sam,” I whispered. My lips next to his ear, blowing a small kiss on it. “Yes, baby?” his voice made me shiver.

I didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to sex, but I wanted him. I wanted him badly.

He cared for me, he’d said all those kind things and the sound of his husky voice told me that he wanted me, too. So I stood up, pulling on his shirt to make him follow me, and I led him to my room.  “Come with me.”

When we got to the small room, I took my shirt off and tossed in on the ground, stood in front of him, more exposed than ever. He bit his lip, cupping my cheek and asked: “Are you sure you want this, Y/N?”

I nodded, taking on step closer to him. “Yes. Do you?”

“Oh, Y/N, hell yes, I do,” he said, “You’re so gorgeous, so sexy.”

And with that, he kissed me again, passionate and greedy. I laid down on the bed and he started undressing me. He was gentle, but eager at the same time, placing delicate pecks on every inch of my body, playing with my breasts and earning moans of pleasure. 

When I was fully naked, his fingers wandered down to my womanhood, started swirling around my clit. He put one finger inside of me, slowly pumping in and out. 

“Sam!” I cried out as he sped up the pace, then added another finger. I’d never felt like that before. 

“Sam, just take me, please! I want to feel you inside of me,” I begged, my hands grasping the bed sheets. 

He took off his clothes, revealing his toned, athletic figure and his grown, erected member. He slowly entered me, giving me time to adjust, then starting to pound into me faster, not being able to hold back his need for release, his lust. He groaned loudly while he did me, his thrusts going fast and deep. 

“You feel so good, Y/N, fuck

I watched him as he kept pushing into me, his eyes half closed, his lips parted, moaning my name. The expression on his face just turned me on even more. God, I was so in love with him. And he was so hot. 

The feeling inside me got more and more intense and I knew I was going to lose it soon. He went faster and faster, harder and harder and I started screaming and grunting, not wanting him to stop. “Oh, Sam, I’m almost there!”

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” and after three more hard thrusts, he came inside of me, exploding from pleasure, making me let it go, too. “Ah, yes, Sam!”

He collapsed on top of me, heavily breathing.

Two hours later we still laid in my bed, under the covers, my had buried in his chest, talking about life, about our wishes, about fears, about our feelings. I felt safe and I felt understood. He listened to me and he cared, and nothing had ever meant that much to me. I still didn’t think that I was the most beautiful girl in the world, but I believed him that in his eyes, I was.

legsa submitted:

For my sixteenth birthday, I got a new sexual and romantic orientation. 

I spent about two weeks opening neat little boxes wrapped in ace/aro pride flag paper. They took a high school girl’s lifetime to get to me. Other gifts travelled faster, but none of them instilled the same blend of fear, anxiety, and excitement inside of me. Inside were scenes from my life, laid out so plainly I spent the next three years wondering how I could’ve possibly missed it. 

In one scene, my mom is driving me to elementary school. I looked out the windows of the car, watching the route go by in a blur of green trees and brown shopping centers. I pictured what I would do about my wedding. All people get married someday, I knew - or thought I knew - but boys were icky. In my nine-year-old mind, I conceived the perfect plan: convince a good friend to dress like a boy, and then we would be able to get married. That way, I’d just get to live with a friend forever. What could be better?

In the next, I’m writing in a fuzzy white diary, a friend’s sleepover party weighing on my mind. Once again, I’d given no answer to the dreaded “who do you like?” question. Knowing I would never dream of being “boring” again, I scanned my mind for tolerable boys in my grade. My mind settled on a boy I’d never heard talk. He wasn’t annoying - sure, he’d do. I wrote down that I liked him because he “didn’t show that he was an idiot.” Maybe drawing hearts would make it real. Oh - maybe I should stare at him in class, too! I’m supposed to like this boy, after all. A few weeks later, another sleepover happened. Seven girls found out about my “crush”, and somehow, it magically disappeared overnight, and I was too young to feel true romantic attraction. 

I admired an American Idol contestant for a while. Then, I liked a few fictional characters. Was that love? My elementary school self didn’t want to kiss some twenty-something singer. I thought it was love, though. Does a twelve-year-old girl want a relationship with Remus Lupin? Of course not. I knew that wasn’t a crush, but I’ve still read Prisoner of Azkaban at least five times more than the other Harry Potter books. Untouchable people confused me the most. I didn’t know what to do with these scenes. For a while, I just assumed they made me straight. But there were several fictional characters I’d forgotten about: the ones who couldn’t just stay friends. Why did Kim Possible end up with Ron? Why did Lizzie McGuire end up with Gordo? In what way did Ned Bigby and Moze make any sense? It seemed that every time a boy and a girl were friends, they were thrown together. Growing up, I never had male friends. Girls were easier to talk to. Girls didn’t have to end up with their best friends. 

In eighth grade I was an overly invested “ally”. I only watched media with same gender relationships (some of it highly problematic; it makes me cringe) and insisted that straight people were inherently boring. Nowadays, I laugh at how close I came to discovering my true identity. I would look up famous LGBT+ people on Wikipedia and read about all the different sexual orientations. The list of famous asexuals included about 4 people, only one of who I’d heard of. Regretfully, I dismissed it as “uninteresting”, spent a few weeks trying to force other labels to fit me, and then settling uncomfortably on “straight”. 

The person who delivered the package was actually someone I hated. He was this kid on the swim team who somehow wormed his way into my friend group. One day, I was telling my friend about how I’d never had a crush before in my life, to which he responded ever-so-eloquently: “that’s bullshit!” I knew my experiences better than he did, but the exchange made me wonder just how strange it was. For two weeks, I read definitions of asexuality and aromanticism, flip-flopped between labels and combinations of labels, took several “are you asexual?” quizzes, and at last, I had my sixteenth birthday present in hand. Even then, I thought I was too young. What if my sexuality changed, and I’d told everyone the wrong thing? If that happened, would everyone tell me I just needed to “meet the right person”? (though now I know that meeting the “right person” wouldn’t make me any less asexual/aromantic) I didn’t want to prove anyone like that right, so I decided I would wait a while before telling anyone other than my best friend (who accepted it readily and understood my fears, being a lesbian herself).

I spent much of the month of June that year looking at myself in the mirror, thinking “I’m asexual” until I truly believed it. Three years have passed since then, and I feel completely secure with my sexual and romantic orientations. I never think of myself as straight. I have nothing in common with heterosexuality/heteroromanticism, and my friends and family have been nothing but supportive (though I’m honestly not sure my parents know … I hint at it very often, but older generations can be dense when it comes to ace/aro things). I am so proud to be ace/aro, and I wanted to share my story, in case it helps a person as confused as I was. Asexuality does not make you boring. I sing along to musical theatre soundtracks, write stories with my friend, make terrible puns, and study American Sign Language. I write ace-aro warriors, assassins, athletes, siblings, friends - all with different personalities, interests, quirks, and attitudes towards sex and romance. The ace and aro spectrums are filled with wonderful, diverse people. I am one of them. 

After I read a few Fanfics (and saw a few posts) placing non aged-up characters of MLB in High School I though I’d create a post about it. (Now please take into account that I haven’t been a middle school student in 8-9 years so some things might have changed but I’m talking about general ‘rules’ here so me being an old lady shouldn’t have any impact on the awesome knowledge I’ll impart you….)

1. Of age, Classes and Schools.

Marinette, Alya, Nino and the others are in middle school in 3ème (as stated by Alya when she found Marinette’s History book) and as such are 14-15.
Now it might confuse some as for you this is the age you are/were/will be on your first year of High School. Let me explain while using the American and Japanese systems (at least half of you seem to be also into animes so I thought it might help):


2. Of Classes, Classmates and Timetables

Just like most middle and high school of the world (that I know of, which means the mainstream western countries), each field is taught by a different teacher and the students are the ones changing classrooms between each class (though depending on the school a teacher may or may not be attributed to a class, usually they’re moved depending on the timetable), HOWEVER Your classmates do not change depending on which class you took. Your are assigned to one class and that’s it. now depending on whether you took English/German as a first language or Spanish/German as a 2nd language your classes will be separated but that’s like 3 to 6 hours a week (basically nothing), also whether you took Latin/greek and the others not, but usually they try to group those in the same class (makes it easier). This is the same in high school except you’re required to take an option (3rd language, Ecocomics and Sociology (you usually barely see the socioly part of your program, History of Arts -which I took-, music, ect… whichever are available in your high school).
Sometimes there will be a separation in P.E but that’s only if they group several classes together (3 classes, means 3 teachers which means each teacher is specialized in one kind of sports), it’s more generally used in High School than middle school but it’s been known to happen.


3. Of classes that were, classes that are new and Classes that will always be.

The main classes taught throughout each of the 4 years of middle school are the following :

French
Maths
Living Language 1 (Langue vivante 1 = LV1)
History-Geography & Civic Education
Biology-Geology (which technically should be translated by Sciences of Life and Earth aka SVT -Sciences de la Vie et de la Terre)
Technology, Plastic Arts
Physical Education.

- Now in 6ème (1st year of middle school for those of you who skipped n°1), we also have Musical Education (oh wait according to the official website music classes are now part of the obligatory classes…Why couldn’t I have that ? I’d have had good grades easily >.<) and Swimming which technically is part of P.E (it’s required to able to swim pass that time) but they never ever come up again (unless it somehow comes as an option/specialty in your High School).
- In 5ème we get to add Physics-Chemistry and Latin/Greek (an option).  Also a 2nd Living Language is added (LV2- usually the most popular is spanish ‘cause kids thinks it’ll be easier, though if you took german  as a 1st language you can’t choose and just Have to take english as a 2nd language; some school propose other languages but it depends on the school and if you move towns you’re probably not gonna be able to study it and go to a more ‘conventional’ language)
- In 4ème : 2nd Living Language is added (LV2- usually the most popular is spanish ‘cause kids thinks it’ll be easier, though if you took german  as a 1st language you can’t choose and just Have to take english as a 2nd language) -> this used to be the case until september 2015 at which it was changed to 5ème. And another optional language can be learned : a regional language (obviously it depends on your middle school, mine didn’t have any so the option didn’t exist).
I thought they had added History of Arts but either they deleted it or they just put it on Musical Education and/or Plastic Arts time.

The time volume of a class of 3ème per week would be :

French : 4h30
Maths : 4h
LV1 : 3h
History-Geography & Civic Education : 3h30
Biology-Geology : 1h30
Physics-Chemistry : 2h
Technology : 2h
Plastic Arts : 1h
Musical Education : 1h
P.E. : 3h
LV2 : 3h
Ancient Language OR  Regional Language (or none) : 3h

Now use it or don’t, I thought it might interest some miraculers for Fanfics/Headcanons References. Also if younger french people have a thing they want to correct please do, I will edit as it goes so if you have a reblogged version you might want to check the original to make sure it’s up to date.
If you have any questions (like whether certain sports are popular or not like cheerleading -I remember a HC about that and no it’s not especially popular in France) don’t hesitate to ask I can add the link to the answer in this post later on.
Also keep in mind this is post is a Generality. Obviously a lot of things depend on the school budget which depends on the department (high school budget depends on the region) and the city (also the arrondissement in big cities like Paris).

Edit:
- As @hika88chan added, No Prom. Ever. (Some schools might do it because students requested it but it’s on the student’s budget and truthfully this must happen in two schools in France if it happens at all)
- Here’s a precision on the languages classes organization
- Apprently now LV2 starts in 5ème (since the 2015-2016 school year so it probably wouldn’t have anything to do with our heroes’ grade but I’m still gonna add it to both posts).

The Shelf

Request: Can you do an imagine where the reader and Robbie meet in a bookstore and he helps her get a book off of a shelf because she’s short? 😂 Thank you in advance! ❤️

Warnings: none

You were on a mission. You were looking for a specific book. It was the newest book from your favorite author. You’d been to several other bookstore today and they had all been sold out already. This place was your final hope before you had to wait for a new shipment of the book.

You wandered down the rows quickly, searching for it. You reached one section in the middle of the store. You saw it nowhere thus far. You groaned, tilting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling for a moment. Though as you did so, you caught glimpse of a colorful book. Your eyes darted to the highest shelf. There, out of your eye level, were the familiar bright colors of the book you were looking for. It looked way better in person than in the pictures posted online.

There was only one problem. The book was out of your reach. You would’ve gone and gotten an employee, but it seemed to be the only copy left. You couldn’t leave your post and have someone get it before you came back. You looked around, seeing if there was anybody around. No one. Only one guy in your row whose back was turned to you, book opened in his hands. You sighed.

You reached for the book, stretching as far as your arm could go. It wasn’t going to even touch the corner of it. You groaned, stepping on the lowest shelf for a boost and you still couldn’t reach it. Curse you for being short. It had its cons.

“Here, let me get that for you,” a voice said. Before you knew it, an arm reached over your head and grabbed the book. They gave it to you.

“Thank you–” It was the boy in your row. He was tall and handsome, but that wasn’t why you cut yourself off. “Robbie… Kay?” You nearly squeaked. Actually squeaked. How embarrassing.

“Yes? Something tells me you know who I am?” He chuckled as you nodded.

“Of course! Pan is my favorite character on Once, though I’m a little bias since I just love Peter Pan, hah.” You replied awkwardly, very tense. “Uh, what’re doing in the bookstore?”

Robbie smiled. “I do like a good read from time to time.” You mentally slapped yourself. Why else would he be in the bookstore? “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied shyly, a light blush heating your cheeks.

“Nice name. So, what book is that?” Robbie asked, making actual conversation with you. You were such a nerd and a fangirl. Your heart was beating so fast and you felt like you were shaking. You were internally screaming, but trying to stay collected on the outside. How many people could say Robbie Kay helped them get a book down from a shelf, only to then proceed in conversation? Not many, that’s for sure.

“Oh, it’s this new book from my favorite author. It’s been sold out everywhere else so far, but I think I just grabbed the last copy in this place.”

“I’m glad I could help you with that,” Robbie chuckled. You nodded, chuckling awkwardly.

“Um, I can… I can help you find a book,” you mentioned nervously. “I’m a bookworm, so I know a lot of good books.”

Robbie agreed to it which made you just about die. You scanned rows again, this time looking for a book that had adventure–something Robbie was looking for. You landed on a good book. One of your favorites. It was again, by your favorite author. You picked it out.

“This one.” You held it out to him. “It’s about how these two kids are forced to stay in a compact room because they live with terrible parents. But, in the tiny room they find a hidden door that leads them to a whole other world. They go on adventures. They make new friends, go to battle. It’s their escape from the horrible living situation, but there’s an excellent plot twist that will make you cry.” You blabbed. You adored that book. It made you angry, sad, happy. It made you experience so many emotions to he point where you threw the book plenty times before finishing it.

“Sounds interesting, and I see it’s by your author,” he chuckled. “I’ll give it a go. Let’s go pay, yeah?”

You nodded, both heading to the checkouts. As you two stood in line, Robbie asked if he could see your book. He looked at the back, pretending to read it. Then he was called next. Robbie took your book with him, setting both books in front of the clerk.

“There two, please.” The clerk only grinned and scanned the items. You stared at Robbie, shocked. He didn’t need to do that. Books are expensive.

“Robbie… what are you doing?”

“Paying for the books.”

“You don’t need to pay for mine… Let me chip in. They’re both hardback; they’re expensive.”

Robbie waved it off. He shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I got a little extra cash on me today.” He chuckled, handing the clerk his credit card.

Once done, Robbie handed you your brand new book. You both walked out of the store, his book in his hand.

“At least let me buy you coffee, or something! I can’t just meet you all willy nilly and then have you buy me a book!”

Robbie pretended to think about it. “Hmm? Possibly that can be established… or maybe not. Guess we’ll have to find out, will we?” He winked. You were confused, but Robbie was only teasing you. He wasn’t going to let you buy him a coffee, he was going to simply finagle his way into buying his own. Plus, he was enjoying how flustered you were getting over this. He found it cute.

“Let’s head to the coffee shop over there. I’ve heard great reviews on it.” He pointed to the local cafe.

“Oh, it’s the best. You have to try the hazelnut latte. Amazing.” You gushed. Robbie looked at you, grinning. You really were adorable. You were short, making it up to right below his chin. You had a geeky style, but it was stylish. And the way you clutched onto your book;you held onto it for dear life, and Robbie found the entirety of you plain adorable.

“I might give it a try as well. Let’s go.”

You smiled wide, you two traveling to the cafe. Little did you know, this was going to spring into something more than a fan encounter.

anonymous asked:

Those fics are great. Now I'm dying to read a fic where CHARMING is the one that catches them. (poor killian) haha

Two people requested this so here goes!

Rating: Starts with K…ends with M. This is probably the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written…also happens to be my first time writing it so pleeeeease be gentle.

xXx

Courting Danger

The town of Storybrooke didn’t get a chance to breathe after the Snow Queen’s end before they were dealing with the next big bad villain that decided the town must suffer/pay for whatever it did to them (yeah, get in line, buddy). In the past, Emma used to cry to the heavens and groan in a very unladylike fashion because she couldn’t get one day, one day, where her only problem was what choice of dessert she wanted to buy for dinner with her entire family. She pictured her mother scrambling through the kitchen trying to get everything ready as she walked through that door, Killian carrying the dessert they both decided on buying together (not apple-pie, she guaranteed that) with that shit-eating grin on his face behind her, stopping to catch Regina, reluctantly, Regina would say, if asked why she accepted the invitation, and David, licking his fingers after dipping in his wife’s home-made sauce and getting his hand slapped away, helping to set up the table. Henry would walk out of his room after finishing his homework, much to the prodding of his brunette mother, and heading straight to Killian for the dessert. Snow would beat him to it and yank the dessert from Killian’s hand and shake her finger at Henry, not before dinner. Killian would smile sympathetically at Henry as the kid would sag his shoulders in defeat. And then they’d sit around the table and talk about their days as if the world wasn’t made up of fairies and wizards and magic, and they were all living normal lives and having normal jobs.

But that wasn’t the reality, not right now. Instead, Emma was spending her dinner at the station with her father and boyfriend searching through books, provided by the resourceful Belle, to learn more about this big baddie that just had to insist on attacking right after the previous one. Do they just get together and schedule these things? Emma mused, and then shook out of her stupor when David and Killian walked into the station with the Italian take-out; Emma wanted Chinese (understatement, more like intensely craved but what could she do? It was that time), but was outnumbered by her father and her traitor of a boyfriend.

As soon as they laid the bags on the table Emma stood to move the books to one side. She looked through one of the take-out bags, pasta - probably her dad’s, and the other, which gave off a not-so-Italian aroma. Wait, Chinese? 

She threw the two of them a confused look. David lifted his arms in a motion of “don’t look at me” and pointed to Killian as he did that bashful ear-scratch move that Emma found incredibly endearing. 

“I figured you worked hard enough this year to earn at least the food of your choice,” he explained, and if her father hadn’t been standing there she would’ve grasped his cheeks in a smothering manner and made a meal out of his tongue, that or cried with tears of joy (she really, really craved Chinese). 

In all seriousness, Emma was truly touched and she made sure to let him know (she was really going for the whole walls-down/full trust thing). “Thank you.” She gasped, “And you bought those dumplings that I like!” Ah, screw it, she grabbed his face and kissed him anyway, not pulling away until her father cleared his throat, Killian blushing and letting out a very pleased breath soon thereafter (and making sure to avoid looking David in the eye).

They sat down and Emma took a moment to run her fingers down Killian’s thigh under the table, causing him to make a start. That was gonna bruise. Emma then distracted David’s questioning gaze to start the conversation by filling the two in on what she found thus far, which was next-to-nothing, and the rest of the conversation was covered by very welcomed topics of mundane things, like “your mother forgot to buy that washing powder with that lemony smell” and “I have to wear two socks to keep my feet from going numb, I never liked the blasted cold anyway”. It was moments like these where she really appreciated her life in Storybrooke and almost thankful, almost, about the constant attacks on the town, because these moments wouldn’t have been as precious and special. Consciously, Emma realised she was finally enjoying the quiet moments, something that the two gentlemen before her reminded her to do every day.

“-tomorrow night?”

Emma shook her head to come back to the conversation. “Sorry, Dad, what was that?”

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