#accompanied by absolutely atrocious spelling

[clownattack]

scouring MANLY forums like car sites and knife sites etc to try and find out what the best epoxy glue is and these cunnies are just arguing over each other and nitpicking offhand takes in some weird glue knowledge dick measuring contests. Babes im just trying to narrow down my options pls just say what glue worked for u good omfg

[wrenhyperfixates]

Loki Odinson’s Guide on How to Woo a Noble

Chapter 3: The Beauty of Love

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s time for the solstice ball, and you’re the only one Loki wants to go with. All that’s keeping him from a perfect night with you is his own fears that you don’t want the same. Warnings: ‘tis just fluff A/N: This is it: The end of my first miniseries, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you for coming on this journey with me, and I hope you enjoy this last part :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Epilogue 

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki’s leg bounced under the table. Just a few more excruciatingly boring minutes and he’d get to be with you. His tutor droned on and on, making him wish his illusions were just a little bit better. Then he could get out of here early. Though he was doing his best to focus, Loki’s mind kept wandering to the plan he was concocting. The summer solstice ball was quickly approaching, now just a few days away. All month Loki had been trying to figure out a way to ask you to accompany him. His birthday was a mere two months away and yours would quickly follow. Then you’d officially be at courting age and he wanted to secure his place as a suitor. The looks that Fandral and the other dashing, young nobles have been sending you did not go unnoticed by the God of Mischief.

“Pssst. Loki,” Thor whispered, tapping his brother on the shoulder. “Are you following any of this?”

“Obviously, Thor. It is not very hard.”

Of course, that was a lie. Well, it may very well have been easy to follow, but Loki’s distracted mind was not allowing him to do so. Thor was scratching his head and looking intensely at his notes, which Loki peered at and realized were little more than scribbles. Though, that might just be Thor’s atrocious handwriting.

“Brother?”

“Yes, Thor?”

“Can I copy your notes?”

“May I copy your notes.”

“But I just asked to copy yours.”

“Yes, Thor, I know. But you asked ‘can I’ when the correct form is ‘may I.’”

Thor scratched his head in confusion again. “So can I then? And, by the way, I don’t appreciate your tone being so condensing.”

“The word is condescending,” Loki sighed. “I honestly do not know how-”

Loki was cut off by their tutor, Lord Asmund, clearing his throat. If looks could kill, Loki and Thor wouldn’t live to see another day. They both gave each other a nervous look, hating for this to be reported to their father, who was very insistent upon them learning Asgard’s history.

“Prince Loki,” Lord Asmund said, “perhaps you could tell me for what purpose the Treaty of Light with Alfheim was made?”

“To set up a trade route?” Loki guessed

“No. Thor?”

“For, uh. Um. Wait! To... No idea,” he ended with slumped shoulders.

“Of course not,” he said with an exasperated eye-roll. “The correct answer is to settle a land dispute. And you can both write me an essay about it due on Monday. Dismissed.”

The brothers gathered their belongings in their arms and headed out the door. Loki sped up, trying to avoid Thor, but he ran after him. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded some advice on how to ask you out, but that would surely be accompanied with teasing. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Thor wanted to talk about.

“So, brother, have you invited anyone to the ball yet?”

“Maybe, maybe not. And you?”

“Sadly for many of the ladies, yes I have. Sif and I will be going together.”

“I see. Hypothetically, if I had not asked anyone out yet and wanted to, how would I go about doing that?”

“The same way I have been telling you since the beginning. Just be your charming self and ask them. They’ll say yes to you, you know.”

“I do not know who you are talking about,” Loki lied, still not wanting to confirm his brother’s suspicions.

“Uh-huh. Listen, Loki, you can do it. I know you can,” Thor comforted his brother. He saw his friends approaching and started jogging to them. “Good luck!” he called over his shoulder.

Loki snuck away before they could invite him to join in whatever brutish activity they had planned. Heading into the lavish library, Loki breathed in the calming scent of old books. He trailed his fingers along the binding while walking towards the bay window where you were supposed to meet. You were already sitting there, legs hugged to your chest, and a book perched on your knees. Lupus was sprawled on the floor, bathing in a patch of sunlight. He perked up upon noticing Loki, alerting you to his presence. Loki sank down onto the cushion next to you, and the wolf pup jumped into his lap. The god’s face lit up when you looked at him with a radiant smile.

“How’d your lesson go?” you asked, closing your book.

“Fine, I suppose,” he replied while distractedly petting Lupus.

“But?”

“But I was getting a little distracted,” he conceded, nervously looking away. “I could not stop thinking about the solstice ball.”

“I see. Is your date giving you trouble?”

“My-my date?” he questioned, voice cracking. “I-I don’t have one yet. Do you?”

“Oh. You hadn’t mentioned anything, so I just assumed. I don’t have one either.”

You both looked out the window, Lupus’s pants the only sound in the library. He looked at you in confusion, wondering why the mood had changed. Loki was confused, too, though for a different reason. He was fairly certain that someone had asked you already, though he supposed it was possible you declined. Fandral had seemed pretty downtrodden a few days ago. Though why would you turn down your other options unless...

“Would you like to go with me?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes!” you replied, a little too excitedly. You calmed down a bit before continuing, “I mean, yes, I would love to go with you.”

You began to excitedly plan for the upcoming night. Naturally, the two of you coordinated outfits, and you’d be wearing Loki’s colors. As the prince’s date you’d be required to make a grand entrance, which admittedly, both you and Loki would prefer to skip. Sure, he loved the attention, but anything he did would certainly be overshadowed by his brother. Yet another reminder that he’d never be as beloved as Thor. That he’d never get what he wanted. Though, he realized, that wasn’t entirely true. After all, you were going to the ball with him, not his brother, which counted for more than it perhaps should have. But, right now, sitting here with you, with the sunlight reflecting in your eyes, meant more than the whole world.

The conversation was flowing so easily between you that Frigga had to enlist a servant to summon you for dinner. Everyone was eating by the time you arrived, and Loki slinked up to the head table, taking his seat. Odin greeted him with a glare out of the corner of his eye. Loki was sure he’d be getting a lecture later, but the extra time with you was worth it. His mother gave him a knowing smile that made him flustered, certain that she’d be asking for details later.

“So,” Thor asked after a few minutes, drawing out the “o” in an exaggerated manner. “How did it go?”

“Quite well,” Loki confessed. “They have agreed to accompany me.”

“See, brother? You should listen to me more often.”

“I doubt that. Thank you, though,” Loki begrudgingly added. “For your support and advice.”

“Of course. What are brothers for?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently, brothers were not for helping when one of them was extremely stressed out. Loki had checked himself in the mirror multiple times before leaving the room, but he still felt paranoid that there was something wrong with his appearance. It certainly didn’t help that Thor kept telling him he had a hair out of place or a loose buckle on his armor. In retaliation, he turned Thor’s cape bright pink, but his mother was quick to fix it with a spell of her own and a warning look. At least Odin hadn’t noticed. With only a few moments left before it was time to enter the ballroom, Loki began to pace. You’d yet to arrive, and he began to worry you decided that you didn’t want to accompany him, after all. He had no doubt that you were friends, but this would take things to another level. For all means and purposes, this was a date, and it was entirely possible you didn’t want everyone to see you together, considering that all your meetings to date had been rather clandestine.

“Relax my son,” Frigga assured him, placing a calming hand on his shoulder to still his nervous movements. “They will be here.”

Thor peered over his shoulder and gave him an encouraging thumbs up, attempting to make up for earlier after seeing how truly distressed his brother was. Loki nodded gravely, not sharing the same faith that his family did. Yes, he was a prince, but to be honest, the lesser one. Everyone knew Odin favored Thor as the next king, and in turn, the subjects adored him far more than they ever did Loki. Before his mind could stray any further, your shoes were rapidly clicking on the polished tile floor as you ran down the hall, a hand grasping your circlet to make sure it didn’t fall off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said to Loki after greeting the royal family with the proper respect. “I had a slight wardrobe malfunction, but it’s all good now. Sorry that I kept you waiting.”

“It is quite alright,” he replied while Thor snickered, knowing how troubled he’d been mere seconds ago. “Might I just say, you look absolutely stunning.”

“Thanks Loki. You too,” you responded, shyly looking away.

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” Odin gruffly said to the small group.

Following the king’s orders, the assembled pairs lined up behind the large doors leading to the grand stairs of the ballroom. Having the least status in the royal family, Loki had to go first. You gave his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze before placing your arm on top of his in the proper, formal manner.

Loki squinted against the bright lights of the room as the steward announced your arrival.  There was a polite smattering of applause as you descended the stairs. As expected, the crowd was much more enthused by the arrival of the elder prince, and Loki sulked while his brother followed the path he’d just taken. You gently bumped him with your shoulder, offering a kind look as Odin began his speech from the landing. Though, Loki didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying. He had no need to; it was the same as every other year.

Then came the first dance, Loki’s favorite part of the night. The royal family walked out to the center of the dance floor. Once they were in place, the musicians came to life and an ethereal waltz tune filled the air. Loki placed one hand on your waist and the other grasped your hand, while your free one was lightly resting on his shoulder. Your two bodies became one as you spun around the floor, lost in each other’s eyes.

“You know,” you ventured, “you really shouldn’t let what others think affect you so much. You do believe me when I tell you how amazing you are, right?”

“I thought I was not supposed to listen to what others think of me,” Loki said, trying to make light of the situation by teasing you, in the hopes of avoiding having to actually talk about his feelings.

“Well, this is different because it’s a fact,” you persisted as Loki blushed. “You really are amazing.”

Before he could say anything else, the music stopped and a new dance begun, one where you switched partners. You threw him a look that said “we are not done talking about this.” He was having mixed feelings at the moment. On the one hand, he was able to dodge a conversation about his emotions for the time being. On the other, he couldn’t spend this dance with you as his partner. Eventually, you made your way back to him and the dance came to an end. He whisked you away to the edge of the room where you could rest out of the public eye for a minute. Though it was highly improper, you and Loki made comments about the rest of the guests, being careful that no one overheard you. At some point, you were able to circle back around to Loki’s lack of faith in himself.

“I am not sure this is the best place to discuss this,” he said, trying to buy himself more time.

“You’re right,” you agreed, fiddling with the bracelet he’d given you, which you’d yet to take off. “Join me for a walk?”

Between the innocent look in your eye and the proposition of alone time with you, Loki couldn’t refuse. The night air was warm as the two of you made your way down the cobblestone path of the garden. Reaching a bench, you stopped for a spell, feet tired from all the dancing and standing around.

“If you really are correct,” Loki began after a short silence, during which you absentmindedly rested your head on his shoulder, “and I am amazing, why does no one else seem to see it?”

You considered his question for a second before picking your head up and looking into his eyes. Such a scrutinizing gaze would usually have made Loki defensive, but he recognized the soft undertones of yours, leaving him with just a worry that you wouldn’t like whatever it was you were looking for.

“I don’t know, really,” you finally admitted. “Maybe because for all your supposed confidence, you don’t really see it either. Or, who knows, maybe they’re just jealous.”

He considered that for a moment, simultaneously loving and hating how astute your deductions were. At least, on the first account. And he did often believe others envied him for the few talents he would admit he truly possessed.

“Maybe,” was all he said.

“Yeah, maybe,” you echoed, placing a hand over his.

Loki’s cheeks flushed again, and he looked at you. You really were beautiful, inside and out. It was a pity, he thought, that people usually only recognized the latter. Though, it made him feel honored that you let him get close enough to you that he could see the former as well. As he was observing you, you turned your head up to look at the sky, presumably thinking of the first time you’d met. He knew he was. The motion upset your circlet, and it slid out of place. Loki went to fix it, but as he was doing so, got an even better idea.

“What are you doing?” you inquired, fixing him with an inquisitive look as he took off the accessory.

“I just thought you might look even better in this,” he answered.

He took off his helmet and put it on your head. It was ever so slightly too large and slid down a bit farther than it should. It only served to make you more adorable, Loki thought. You looked at him for a second as if trying to make up your mind about something. Then you suddenly rushed forward and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. It was enough to make you both fidget and chuckle sheepishly.

Loki stood up after a moment, making up his own mind about something. He placed another kiss, to your knuckles this time, and asked, “Shall we return to the ball?”

“We shall,” you answered, beaming at how self-assured he seemed.

You went back hand in hand and made it to the center of the floor just in time for the final dance. Both of you danced so beautifully that every other guest stopped to admire your grace. As you finished, they erupted into the loudest round of applause that evening.

“Loki,” you gasped later that evening as he walked you back to your quarters. “I’m still wearing your helmet!”

“It is alright, darling. Trust me when I say you look quite ravishing. And,” he added after a split second of hesitation, “I hope you know how amazing you are, too.”

As you stopped in front of your door, Loki leaned in, and you finally met in a long-overdue, sweet, gentle, loving kiss.

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

Draco Malfoy x Neville Longbottom

Hogwarts Professors in ‘In Pursuit of Red Wine’, excerpt below.

“I come bearing sustenance.”

Neville yelped and knocked his inkpot over. Malfoy opened the door further, sniggering as he entered the room properly.

“One day I’ll curse you without thinking,” Neville muttered, fumbling around his desk for his wand. It was a mess of exam papers. He’d started with a clear ‘marked’ and ‘unmarked’ division, but then there had been things he wasn’t sure how to grade and two piles had turned into many.

“You’d have to find your wand first,” Malfoy said with a snicker. “Clear a space for me, would you?”

Neville looked up. He was pulling up a chair, holding a stack of papers himself and that fancy green quill he always had on him. Behind him there was a tray levitating around chest-height, with small curls of steam rising from a teapot.

“What’s this?” Neville muttered, giving up on his already chaotic piles and shoving everything to one side.

“Sustenance. Are you deaf? You’re a mess,” Malfoy tutted, placing his stack of papers down on a clean spot on the desk and then drawing his wand to lift the ink and have it fly back into its vial.

As Neville cleared everything back into one pile, knowing full well he needed to go through everything again anyway, Malfoy set the tray down. Seeing the spread of food that accompanied the tea, Neville’s stomach growled.

“So uncivilised,” Malfoy tutted again. “You didn’t show up for late tea in the staff room. I figured you’d be doing something stupid like forgetting to eat as you tortured yourself over marking exams.”

An insult in return wasn’t forthcoming as a rush of affection surged through Neville. Once settled, Malfoy flicked his wand at the tray and the tea things started preparing the cups of tea themselves. Neville stared, still a bit dumbfounded by how thoughtful the gesture was.

“I was getting bored with these exams anyway,” Malfoy muttered, drawing Neville’s attention away from the animated tea things. There was a tinge of pink to his cheeks, like every other time he was caught doing something nice. “Misery loves company. You wouldn’t believe some of the rot the second-years are putting down. How are yours?”

A fully prepared cup of tea floated over to land just within reach of Neville’s hand, and he was distracted enough that he still couldn’t think of much to say. His chest was aching and he knew what that meant. A miserable night where he’d been moments away from tearing his hair out was suddenly turned around. Malfoy’s mere presence had lifted his mood. He was completely done for.

“Practicals went all right. Theory’s a mess,” he managed to mumble, looking at the first exam on his pile. Eloise Gates. He bit back a groan. Her spelling was atrocious. He didn’t think it was that important, but Minerva had told them all to be harsh or they’d keep slacking on the non-magical aspects of school work. But how much was too harsh? And what was not harsh enough?

Malfoy picked up the teacup that settled near him and leaned back in his chair to take a sip. He looked completely at ease taking up the other side of Neville’s desk. It made Neville’s chest ache all over again.

“I’m at the point where I want to deduct marks for poor penmanship. I swear, their handwriting gets worse every year. I’ll soon convince Minerva to let me, I’m sure of it.” He took another sip and sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. Neville’s face felt hot and he looked at the tray for a distraction, only to hear his stomach rumble again. “Except Charles Gates. He’s trying too hard. I want to mark him down just because I can.”

Neville shook his head, reaching for one of the scones that was already split and slathered with something. “At least someone in that family can write. His sister’s spelling is giving me a headache.” He lifted the scone to his nose for a sniff.

“Lemon curd,” Malfoy supplied. “The house elves insisted the moment I mentioned this was for you too.”

Neville grinned and bit into the scone. Closing his eyes, he fought off a groan and failed. He loved the Hogwarts lemon curd. The house elves were masters at everything. It certainly made a late night of marking exams less daunting as he finished it off quickly and grabbed another.

Malfoy already had one of his exams in hand, leaning back in his chair and reading it close to his face. After a few moments, he scoffed and leaned forward, planting it on the table and dipping his quill in Neville’s inkpot to cross something out.

“Idiot,” he muttered. “I went over that four times in our last lesson. Did he think I was feinting and not study it?”

Neville snorted. “Does Minerva ever catch you calling them idiots?”

Malfoy paused mid-scribble to peer up at him. “You’ve never seen her mark exams?”

“Should I?”

Laughing, Malfoy finished what he was scrawling. “Absolutely.”

Neville hummed and then turned back to his exams, brushing the crumbs off his jumper and resigning himself to Eloise’s awful spelling. He’d already gone over it, but he’d ignored several errors he knew he needed to deduct points for. He just felt so awful doing it.

“Even I could spell ‘Venomous Tentacular’ at that age,” he muttered.

Malfoy brandished his quill like a flag of triumph. “That’s the spirit!” he said, grinning over at him. “Mark them down or they’ll never learn!”

Neville snorted at how ridiculous he looked, but inked his quill. He knew he needed to, even if it was so hard to do.

“Ah, to see you struggle,” Malfoy said wistfully. “Just wait. You’ll be calling them idiots and fighting the urge to mark them down from spite alone soon enough.”

“Some of us can restrain our arsehole-ish tendencies,” Neville said, underlining another misspelled word he’d ignored earlier.

“But you do still have the tendency,” Malfoy said, and Neville looked up to see he was looking smug.

“Get back to work,” Neville huffed.

Malfoy chuckled and sipped his tea before making a great show of dipping his pretentious quill in Neville’s inkpot again.

[painterlegendx]

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[justiceforthefool]

life of the party

The masquerade was the exact opposite of a good time, if Adonia was being honest. She hated just about everything about the event; crowds were not her forté, she was an atrocious dancer, Nadia had made her wear a silky, revealing red gown, and worst of all, the ball was being held to hang a man she knew was innocent. The man in question, Dr. Julian Devorak, was the guest of honor, in a way, but thankfully he was nowhere to be found.

After being tasked with finding the doctor, stumbling upon him by accident, and then unintentionally developing a growing infatuation with him, Adonia had managed to keep him away from the palace this evening. Nadia was disappointed, to say the least, but Adonia had been breathing a constant sigh of relief all night. The masquerade was still being held as a gesture of goodwill for the people, but the “main event” would not be tonight (or ever, hopefully).

Letting out a sigh, Adonia glanced around the ballroom at the glittering dresses and suits of the townspeople twirling about. How glad she was to not be on the dance floor. She was sitting alone in the corner at one of the dozens of tables adorned with orate centerpieces, crystal goblets filled with the most expensive wine, and mountains of the most delicious food Adonia had ever tasted. She picked at the lamb she had been eating, but her appetite was gone after thinking about Julian’s possible fate. She was in no mood to be at a party when the man she cared for was on the run, at risk every moment of being caught. Perhaps the one saving grace at the moment was that everyone was leaving her alone, and she was very thankful for the crimson and gold mask that was keeping her identity somewhat secret.

It seemed she had spoken too soon as she heard footsteps approaching behind her. The steps were too heavy to be the countess or Portia. She hoped that by not turning around this person would be able to tell she was uninterested in their company.

“Have you tried the lobster? It's to die for,” a warm, familiar voice said, taking a seat beside her. She would recognize that voice and it's accompanying shock of red hair and twinkling grey eye anywhere. Julian Devorak was here, at the palace. She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. He was sitting before her, grinning and clothed in a finely tailored black suit, and he was wearing a simple silver mask. If he was here, then he was in danger!

“What are you doing here? If Nadia knows you're here, you could be killed!” Adonia hissed, glancing around the vicinity. He just smirked and waved a hand noncommittally.

“Don't worry about that. I don't plan on dying tonight; I have other plans.” His tone was playful, like he didn't even care about being this deep in the wolf’s den. The expression on his face was so relaxed, and he was sitting with one arm on the table and his face resting on his fist.

“How are you so at ease?” Adonia’s cheeks were warming now that her immediate concern was receding.

“How could I not be, with such fine company?” If her cheeks weren’t red before, they were now. He was evading, but in such an endearing way. Suddenly, he stood. She followed his movement with her eyes and he grinned down at her. Taking her completely by surprise, he extended a hand to her.

“Care to dance, Adonia?” She was so taken aback that she didn’t respond for a few moments.

“I don't- that is to say, I can't dance,” she stuttered. Hands folded in her lap, she looked away from the doctor. “Two left feet.”

Her confession caused the doctor to let out a small chuckle. She looked back up at him and, feeling a surge of confidence at seeing him here, unafraid and almost carefree in a palace full of people who could recognize him at any moment, slid her hand gently into his.

“But with you leading, I suppose it won’t be all bad,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. Julian looked surprised for about two seconds, and then a wide grin split his face as he tugged her to her feet.

“You look ravishing this evening. Have I mentioned that?” His eye moved from her intricately done hair down the length of her gown as they walked towards the dance floor, and she noticed him a swallow thickly as he took in her outfit. The dress was very revealing, but suddenly she felt completely naked. “Your dress is…”

“Not very practical. Or warm, for that matter,” Adonia muttered.

“I think it’s very lovely. A fitting gown for a woman as lovely as you.” His smile was warmer this time, and his cheeks were tinged pink after the compliment he had just paid her. Adonia’s own face was going to be permanently red to match her dress after this evening, it seemed. They reached the dance floor, and he turned to face her.

Her left hand was still in his, and he wound his free hand around to rest in the middle of her back. She mimicked his movements, noting how physically close this whole experience brought them together. She could feel his breath mingling with her own, and his gaze trailed down to meet her own. They stood that way for a moment, enjoying each other’s closeness and listening to the lilting sounds of the orchestra. It felt as though they were the only people in the room, despite the couples spinning near them.

“By the end of the night, we’ll have you dancing like a pro,” Julian murmured, surprising her by moving his feet and tugging her along. Adonia wished they could have stayed as they had; starting off the dance by stumbling did not set a good precedent, but Julian tugged her along without complaint.

“Keep your eyes on my face,” Julian said, peering down at her, “And don’t think too much, allow me to lead you.”

“You say that now, but when I step on your foot in these heels you’ll be wishing I had been looking at my feet,” Adonia shot back. Julian let out a warm, hearty laugh and tugged her just a bit closer. His advice had something to it, though, and she found herself following his steps a bit more easily when she was trying to stay two steps ahead. She did still step on his foot once, but he didn’t even seem to react to it.

They didn’t say much, but Adonia noticed the fondness in Julian’s gaze for it was mirrored in her own. It’s not as though she didn’t have things to say to him, things to ask him. This moment just felt too intimate, and not the right time to bring anything else up. The intensity of warmth and care and attraction between the two of them felt so right and she didn’t want to do anything to break the spell. She only hoped Julian felt the same way.

The song came to an end without either of them noticing for a moment, but the clapping of the crowd shook them out of their trance. Julian spun them to a stop back near the edge of the dance floor, but they didn’t break apart right away. Locked in Julian’s gaze, Adonia tilted her head a bit and felt her face moving closer to the doctor’s own. His lips were parted, and he moved his face down to meet her lips.

The moment her lips touched his was a feeling she never wanted to forget. It was sweet and gentle, and his lips were indeed quite soft. Her heart swelled with joy as he pulled back and placed a second on her lips. She untangled their hands and threw her’s around his neck, and she felt his wrap around her waist. He deepened the kiss, opening his mouth a bit and attempting to hold her even closer to him (which was impossible as they were literally pressed against each other). She ran a hand through the doctor’s ginger hair and felt him let out a small groan into her mouth. This was absolute bliss.

The striking of the clock disrupted their kiss, which had grown into something not-so-chaste. Julian pulled away quite suddenly at the sound of the bells, and he let out a low curse. Adonia, looking thoroughly kissed and very confused, pulled back also.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking around to make sure no one was staring at them (thankfully, their little show had been ignored by the nobility surrounding them).

“Nothing’s wrong, really,” he said, grinning down at her. She noted that the smile didn’t reach his eyes this time. “I just have to be going now.”

“So soon? You don’t want to risk your life for 20 more minutes?” Adonia asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. The doctor smiled in earnest this time, and she smiled back.

“For you, I wish I could stay another hundred years,” he sighed, cupping her cheek in his hand, “But I must be off. I’m running on borrowed time here as it is, don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“When will I see you again?” She didn’t want Julian to leave, he had only just gotten there, but she knew he had to leave so she could see him again (alive and unharmed) some other day.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll see each other again quite soon, fate has a way of bringing us together.” His eye was twinkling as he alluded to all their strange, fateful meetings. “But should fate not intervene, you can always find me at the tavern.”

Adonia surprised both of them by launching herself at his lips and pressing a small flurry of hungry kisses against his mouth. Julian was laughing as she pulled away, and she shot him a sheepish smile.

“I’ll miss you,” she murmured, “Stay alive, alright?”

“It’s what I’m best at.” And with that, Julian placed his lips on her forehead for a fleeting moment and pulled away from her. Murmuring a soft ‘farewell,’ he turned on his heel and strode toward the archway leading to the courtyard. Before he turned away, he gave her one last glance and a small nod of his head, and then he was gone again.

[homepictures]

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Sacked Manchester United administrator Jose Mourinho is branch aback to his £25million ancestors home in London today afterwards active in a auberge up arctic for two years.

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The 55-year-old spent about £550,000 blockage in the bristles brilliant Lowry Auberge in a £600-a-night accommodation – but acclimatized up and arrested out afterwards actuality accursed today.

Mourinho, who has agreed a £22.5million bribery with United, alone a abode in Cheshire for a 700 sq ft allowance with angle of the River Irwell in Salford.

His ancestors abject charcoal in Belgravia, London, area his wife of Matilde, 54, daughter, additionally alleged Matilde, 22, but nicknamed Tita, and son Jose Jnr, 18, accepted as Zuca, all live.  

Jose Jr played football for Fulham until he was arise aftermost year and is attractive for a new club while Matilde accelerating from University of the Arts, London, in July and is advancing a career in fashion.

The ancestors arise absurd to chase their ancestor abroad if he gets a new job and it is not bright if their mother will breach in Britain to abutment them as they still almost young. 

Jose Mourinho pictured alfresco his £25m abode in axial London area he will now alive afterwards actuality accursed by Manchester United

Jose will be spending added time with his wife Matilde, daughter, additionally alleged Matilde, 22, and son Jose Mourinho Jnr, 18, who all alive in the basic (pictured at the UK blur premiere of The Hunger Games in 2014)

Mourinho leaves the Lowry Auberge today area he spent added than 900 canicule – and £550,000 – afore he was sacked by United today

Mourinho is accepted to accept been blockage in one of the Lowry’s affluence Riverside Suites, costing £600 a night

Another job in the Premier League now looks unlikely, with football sources suggesting he could administer Paris Saint-Germain in France, the Portuguese civic aggregation or alike alpha a new chance managing a ancillary in the United States. 

Mr Mourinho bought his six-bedroom London abode for £6.5million but it is now account added than £25million.

But while in Manchester the adept agent absitively to abide in a auberge rather than acquirement a abode in Cheshire area best of his players live.

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Manchester United administrator Jose Mourinho is all smiles as he leaves the Lowry hotel, area he spent 904 nights

His wife and accouchement were said to be agog to breach in London. 

The now above Manchester United bang-up lived in one of the Lowry Hotel’s affluence Riverside Suites.

A Riverside Accommodation is priced at £600, which agency Mourinho has shelled out about £550,000 for 904 nights he backward there.

He would consistently hug or put his arm about agents as he accustomed afterwards assignment and additionally captivated pre-match affairs in the auberge – but arrested out today. 

The Mourinhos accept lived in Portugal, Spain and Italy as the football administrator formed for assorted football clubs but like Britain because their accouchement are acclimatized here.  

He owns bristles houses in his built-in Portugal including one in Azeitao, abreast Setubal, his home town, and a luxury accommodation overlooking the bay of Cascais. 

He is additionally believed to own a acreage overlooking Lake Como in Italy, which he bought aback he was administrator of Inter Milan.

And while administrator of Real Madrid he endemic a abode in the exclusive La Finca commune of the Spanish capital, area Gareth Bale additionally lives.

His babe Matilde, who has afresh completed a accomplished art degree, is believed to appetite to accompany a career in appearance and architecture in London. 

Four years ago she became banderole account aback she wore an agitative artist dress aback she accompanied her ancestor to the GQ Awards, and he didn’t attending too blessed about it. 

And a year afore that Matilde abutting Mr Mourinho and his wife at the Victoria’s Secret appearance appearance in London’s Earl’s Court. 

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Mr Mourinho with his babe Matilde, who is said to be advancing a career in appearance (pictured calm in 2015)

Her ancestor told the Big Issue in 2015: ‘My wife and my son and my babe accept the better access on me, that’s for sure. And why? Because they are the administration and ascendancy aggregate in the house’

Experts accept the sacked Manchester United administrator is absurd to assignment in the Premier League afresh afterwards declining at OId Trafford.

Here are his accessible abutting destinations: 

Paris Saint-Germain

The French football club has been angry into all-around antic cast beneath its Qatari owners, who accept spent a affluence bringing players including Neymar and Kylian Mbappe.

Portugal

A civic job has continued been rumoured for the 55-year-old, who loves his home country.

He has additionally been affiliated with the England job, although Gareth Southgate is defended for now. 

United States

With stars like David Beckham, Wayne Rooney and Steven Gerrard all approved a assignment in America – clubs could be atrocious to defended a big name administrator like Mourinho to addition their profile. 

He added: ‘What is a acceptable night for me? Acceptable television, a acceptable blur or book. A acceptable night for me is to accept a nice banquet with my wife and son and daughter’.

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‘Obviously, now they are accepting earlier and they are starting to accept their lives and they accept their accompany also, so at this moment with school, football, university – we cannot be like afore with cafeteria and banquet calm every day. So now is different, so a acceptable night for me is to adore them and accept a acceptable meal and afterwards that absorb time with my family’.

The ancestors of four are actual abutting – he has their names tattooed on his wrist – but the brilliant drillmaster will not be abundant advice about the abode now he is out of work.

He said: ‘I’m a adversity annular the house, practically. I can do annihilation The alone affair I can do is, I’m actual organised about my things, so I don’t afflict bodies at the house. My appointment is consistently able-bodied organised and my clothes are organised. So I don’t absolutely advice but I don’t disturb’. 

Mourinho is accepted to booty an continued anniversary afterwards his burglary afore clearing aback into London life. 

In 2016 a burglar approved to breach into his Belgravia home while he watched the European Championships final on TV has been jailed.

Jose, pictured with his wife and daughter, has accepted he is abhorrent about the house, area he will be spending abundant of his time

The football manager, pictured afterwards addition Premier League win with Chelsea, is actual abutting to his children, pictured, who adulation London life

Cabor Roman was affective alfresco the above Chelsea boss’ six-bedroom Belgravia home afterwards aggravating to get accident his way into the basement.

A Portuguese maid spotted him while accomplishing some bed-making and a aegis bouncer again stepped in. 

Mourinho and his wife watched from the window as he was taken abroad by eight badge officers.

The ancestors resettled in London afterwards spells in Italy and Spain.

But in 2008 Mourinho accepted he ability never acknowledgment afterwards he claimed the badge approved to ‘arrest’ his dog.

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Mourinho claimed the clashes he had with Chelsea’s billionaire buyer Roman Abramovich and again Arsenal administrator Arsene Wenger were annihilation compared to his altercation with badge admiral over Yorkshire terrier Leya.

Police raided Mourinho’s Belgravia home over claims the beastly had been taken in and out of the country breaking apprehension rules. The pet eventually had to acknowledgment to Portugal.

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