Top Ten Tuesday is hosted by the lovely Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week a new theme is suggested for bloggers to participate in. This week’s prompt is Fictional Crushes!

Hello Readers! I hope today’s TTT finds you safe and well during these difficult times. With the real world being so scary right now, it’s nice to escape to a book world. Nice and necessary for my mental health.

Today we’re talking about our Fictional Crushes, and for me that means characters I admire, characters that tug at my heartstrings, and/or characters I couldn’t stop thinking about. And maybe some characters who made me swoon. 😉 I’ll also be sharing how they were introduced to readers in their books. Let’s see who I picked (in no particular order)!

(Link to Goodreads synopsis through book title.)

1

Kaz from Six of Crows

Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason. Those were the words whispered on the streets of Ketterdam, in the taverns and coffeehouses, in the dark and bleeding alleys of the pleasure district known as the Barrel. The boy they called Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason any more than he needed permission—to break a leg, sever an alliance, or change a man’s fortunes with the turn of a card.

Of course they were wrong, Inej considered as she crossed the bridge over the black waters of the Beurskanal to the deserted main square that fronted the Exchange. Every act of violence was deliberate, and every favor came with enough strings attached to stage a puppet show. Kaz always had his reasons. Inej could just never be sure they were good ones.

Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

2

Willem from Just One Day

“Shakespeare for free?” Melanie reads.

“Yeah,” the magenta-haired girl says in accented English. “Not for capitalist gain. How Shakespeare would’ve wanted it.”

“You don’t think he’d want to actually sell tickets and make money from his plays?” I’m not trying to be a smart-ass, but I remember that movie Shakespeare in Love and how he was always owing money to somebody or other.

The girl rolls her eyes, and I start to feel foolish. I look down. A shadow falls over me, momentarily blocking out the glare of the sun. And then I hear laughter. I look up. I can’t see the person in front of me because he’s backlit by the still-bright evening sun. But I can hear him.

“I think she’s right,” he says. “Being a starving artist is not so romantic, maybe, when you’re actually starving.”

I blink a few times. My eyes adjust, and I see that the guy is tall, maybe a full foot taller than I am, and thin. His hair is a hundred shades of blond, and his eyes so brown as to almost be black. I have to tilt my head to look at him, and he’s tilting his head down to look at me.

“But Shakespeare is dead; he’s not collecting royalties from the grave. And we, we are alive.” He opens his arms, as if to embrace the universe.

Gayle Forman, Just One Day

3

Magnus Bane from the Shadowhunters Universe

The door flew open.

A slender man standing in the doorway regarded them curiously. It was Isabelle who recovered herself first, flashing a brilliant smile. “Magnus? Magnus Bane?”

“That would be me.” The man blocking the doorway was as tall and thin as a rail, his hair a crown of dense black spikes. Clary guessed from the curve of his sleepy eyes and the gold tone of his evenly tanned skin that he was part Asian. He wore jeans and a black shirt covered with dozens of metal buckles. His eyes were crusted with a racoon mask of charcoal glitter, his lips painted a dark shade of blue. He raked a ring-laden hand through his spiked hair and regarded them thoughtfully. “Children of the Nephilim,” he said. “Well, well. I don’t recall inviting you.”

Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

4

Captain Caswell Thorne from The Lunar Chronicles

The captivity of Carswell Thorne had gotten off to a rocky start, what with the catastrophic soap rebellion and all. But since being transferred to solitary, he’d become the personification of a well-mannered gentleman, and after six months of such commendable behavior, he’d persuaded the only female guard on rotation to lend him a portscreen.

He was quite sure this would not have succeeded if the guard wasn’t convinced he was an idiot, incapable of doing anything other than counting the days and searching for naughty pictures of ladies he’d known and imagined.

And she was right, of course. Thorne was mystified by technology and couldn’t have done anything useful with the tablet even if he had a step-by-step instruction manual on “How to Escape from Jail Using a Portscreen.”

Marissa Meyer, Scarlet

5

Will Herondale from The Infernal Devices

The demon exploded in a shower of ichor and guts.

William Herondale jerked back the dagger he was holding, but it was too late. The viscous acid of the demon’s blood had already begun to eat away at the shining blade. He swore and tossed the weapon aside; it landed in a filthy puddle and commenced smoldering like a doused match. The demon itself, of course, had vanished—dispatched back to whatever hellish world it had come from, though not without leaving a mess behind.

“Jem!” Will called, turning around. “Where are you? Did you see that? Killed it with one blow! Not bad, eh?”

Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

6

Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim’s warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.

I prop myself up on one elbow. There’s enough light in the bedroom to see them. My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother’s body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten-down. Prim’s face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tel me.

Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

7

Jamie Fraser from Outlander

The men’s attention had shifted to a young man crouched on a stool in the corner. He had barely looked up through my appearance and interrogation, but kept his head bent, hand clutching the opposite shoulder, rocking slightly back and forth in pain.

Dougal gently pushed the clutching hand away. One of the men pulled back the young man’s plaid, revealing a dirt-smeared linen shirt blotched with blood. A small man with a thick mustache came up behind the lad with a single-bladed knife, and holding the shirt at the collar, slit it across the breast and down the sleeve, so that it fell away from the shoulder.

I gasped, as did several of the men. The shoulder had been wounded; there was a deep, ragged furrow across the top, and blood was running freely down the young man’s breast. But more shocking was the shoulder joint itself. A dreadful hump rose on that side, and the arm hung at an impossible angle.

Dougal grunted. “Mmph. Out o’ joint, poor bugger.” The young man looked up for the first time. Though drawn with pain and stubbled with red beard, it was a strong, good-humored face.

Diana Gabaldon, Outlander

8

Jordan Hennessy from The Dreamer Trilogy

“Wake up, Waaaaaashington, DC! Authorities should be notified,” laughed TJ Sharma, the host of the party. “Someone tell them a young woman with superpowers is on the loose.”

All eyes in the DC-suburb McMansion were on Jordan, a young woman with eyes like a miracle and a smile like a nuclear accident. The other partygoers wore relaxed casual; Jordan didn’t believe in either relaxing or being casual. She wore a leather jacket and lace bustier, her natural hair pulled into an enormous kinky ponytail. The floral tattoos on her neck and fingers glowed bright against her dark skin and her enthusiasm glowed bright against the suburban night.

“Shhh, shhh,” Jordan said. “Superpowers are like children, mate—“

“Two-point five for every American family?” TJ asked.

“Better seen than heard,” Jordan corrected.

Maggie Stiefvater, Call Down the Hawk

9

Gansey from The Raven Cycle

She asked, “Will you tell me your name?”

He faced her and she realized with a shock that he wore an Aglionby sweater.

“Gansey,” he said. Though his voice was quiet, it wasn’t a whisper. It was a real voice spoken from someplace almost too far away to hear.

Blue couldn’t stop staring at his mussed hair, the suggestion of staring eyes, the raven on his sweater. His shoulders were soaked, she saw, and the rest of his clothing rain spattered, from a storm that hadn’t happened yet. This close, she could smell something minty that she wasn’t sure was unique to him or unique to spirits.

He was so real. When it finally happened, when she finally saw him, it didn’t feel like magic at all. It felt like looking into the grave and seeing it look back at her.

“Is that all?” she whispered.

Gansey closed his eyes. “That’s all there is.”

Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven Boys

10

Jonah from The Simple Wild

“Oh my God. Is this for real?” I blurt out, gaping at the tiny yellow-and-orange thing. A toy plane, more wings than body.

Billy looks back to smile at me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, there isn’t even a seat for me!”

“Yeah there is. It’s behind the pilot. Hey, Jonah!” Billy hollers in between his laughter, at the man whose broad back is to us while he fusses with something on the propeller. “I think you’ve got a nervous flyer!”

“Fantastic,” the man grumbles in a deep baritone voice, tossing a tool into a bag on the ground beside his feet before he turns with obvious reluctance to face us.

Diana would have a field day with this one, I note, taking in the thick, shaggy, ash-blond beard that covers the bottom half of his face, jutting out at all angles. Between that, the reflective aviators, and the black USAF baseball cap that’s pulled low over his forehead, I can’t see his face. I can’t even guess his age.

And he’s big. Even in my three-inch heels, he towers over me. It’s hard to tell exactly how bulky he is beneath that checkered emerald-green and black jacket, but his wide shoulders make him look hulkish.

K.A. Tucker, The Simple Wild

Do we share any fictional crushes? Let me know in the comments!

Happy Wandering!