#love how he just takes it in stride. and the causal way he talks about presidency

[brownfrogs]

i leave for a day or two and come home to the most chaos, like the tag of u begging ppl not to send u asks about piss really sums everything up here

the imagery of satya spraying cole with febreeze like hes a cat is quite fun however

buttttttt- i am here to combat the chaos with some wholesomeness

so post recall- i like to think the heroes who do return end up developing different rituals with each other

like i always adore the idea of hana investing her time in the older heroes to try and learn as much as she can. like doing target training with hanzo and respectively talking in their own native tongues. she still teases him for whatever social mess he has gotten himself into that week of course, she is mischievous by nature but holds a huge deal of respect for him too!!! she would invest a lot of time earning his respect and company and i think she would be very interested in the dragons themselves!!

i could imagine her comparing the dragons to her meka, (because she would carry that level fondness and admiration for it!!!) shes like oh theyre just like tokki!! and hanzo just deadpans like respectfully your technological contraption is not way comparable to the divinity and history held by the dragons

whilst the dragons themselves i think they would simply be amused, like hanzo desperately trying to defend their honour and they r like no no, technically she has a point, they would totally have a soft spot for her

i also think hanzo would eventually carry a similar fondness for her too!!! like the different perspective that hana can give! he knows the life they live can be tough and unforgiving and yet she still takes the next day in her stride. some part of it probably worries him as it’s an uncomfortable reminder to how playful kiriko and genji were when they were all younger and how he couldnt of stopped what had happened to them but he never /ever/ would doubt her capability. he’s not that kinda person!

it would totally help loosen him up too, like i could see him only taking part in like self enjoyment very briefly thinking it’s frivolous and time could be spent elsewhere but one night when they had originally scheduled training but maybe something comes up (honestly with all the trans headcannons the idea of hana dealing with menstrual stuff and hanzo being like oh shit yeah lets change plans is a big slay actually.)

so they sneak off of base, this is how hana learns how sneaky he can truly be and he teaches her a thing or too, and head into more central gibratlar and they go find a late night food place/arcade (hana would obviously know the best spots) and they eat the like best worst takeaway food and play games in a quiet arcade and its our favourite causal intimacy (who cheered!!! and all platonic ofc if that was not clear)

but it’s a very fond memory and hanzo is like okay maybe sometimes he does need enrichment outside of his enclosure u know haha

anyways !! short rambles but theyre so <333

- sabs !

See, thats the thing bout this blog. You’ll never know what you’re gonna get. And I think that’s kinda beautiful 🥹

BUT YEAHHH!!!! I wholly agree and enjoy the idea of all the characters interacting on day to day basis. Makes me happy. They all do their part and take turns with the grocery runs, kitchen duty, and tending to the community garden. One big misfit family :>

Hana does contribute when she’s not in her room streaming. As for the older heroes, she definitively respects a certain few like Ana and Rein haha.

With Hanzo, I think their relationship was actually pretty rocky at the start. They def butted heads a lot bc both are such leader types. Hana thought he was way too old-fashioned and overbearing while he thought she was too naive and reckless. I do love the voiceline of her putting Hanzo in his place the most.

But over time, seeing the other sides of the other helped their assumptions change. Hana begins to appreciate Hanzo’s tactical plans because it always gives her an easy escape route whenever she gets overwhelmed by enemies. He admires her vital spirit and always willing to sacrifice her mech for the team. Eventually it turns into Hanzo giving her shooting tips at the training range and Hana challenging him to spicy noodle eating competitions. I hc Hanzo is a polygot and knows Korean and Mandarin (learned it for business). Hanzo whips it out whenever he wants to motivate her or when she’s feeling homesick and can’t call her dad. Hana on the other hand can sense when he is about to ruminate and drags him to one of her streams. He backseats game the whole time, but he is just so deadpan funny, the chat adores him so she lets it slide. She even has a Hanzo unimpressed emote.

Oh yes, Hana absolutely is interested in the dragons. While she thinks the kitsune is Cute, the dragons are just way Cooler. Imagine Hanzo trying to explain all the grueling hours of training he did in order to harness the dragon’s power and control them at will, while they are just nuzzling up to a giggly Hana. He sighs. I can definitely see the dragons sunbathing on top of Tokki on a nice day 😂😂😂

Once there is that mutual respect, Hanzo wouldn’t dare to think she is in incapable at anything. Like you said, he would often be reminded of Genji’s and Kiriko’s youthfulness, so the Older Brother comes out occasionally. But she is different to them because she is so headstrong and knows who she is fighting for. And Hana always comes to him when she wants a serious, no bullshit answer because others tend to walk on eggshells with her due to her celebrity status. She counts on him to be the realist to her idealism.

YEAHHHHH, Hanzo knows what’s up and they sneak off on a hovercycle that he hotwires. Hana comments saying she didn’t know he knew how to ride one of these. While Hanzo just smirks, he has many secrets that only few are worthy of being privy to.

They eat and play at the arcade, casual platonic friendship at it’s best!!! Hana beats his ass at all the games, but he is a worthy opponent. Hanzo def is an expert at those crane games tho, and gets her the pinkest plush they have. Hana gets him those tacky orange sunglasses. It’s a warm pleasant memory for the both of them.

Also I 100% know this was one of their interactions:

Hana: are you homophobic

Hanzo: im gay…????

Hana: HES DODGING THE QUESTION

[shivroysboytoy]

Succession – Vaulter (02x02)

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Fluffy headcanons of meeting the boys for the first time? Specifically for: Dick Winters, Malarkey, Lipton and Compton?

Hello there lovely anon, and thanks so much for the request 💕

Dick Winters

He was on his way to his office when he bumped into you by accident.

He's super apologetic, picking up all your things off the floor and trying to organise them

He apologises like a hundred times, and then a hundred more.

When he finally gets a proper look at you he gets all flustered because oh my, aren't you pretty.

"I...here," he stutters, thrusting your stuff out for you to take them.

You smile up at him shyly and he gets even more flustered and blushy.

He tries really hard to make conversation; talks about the weather, curses himself internally for being so bloody awkward, asks you what you do here, how long you've been doing it etc.

He's really nice, and when he finds out you're an HQ officer he gets quietly hopeful that he'll bump into you again sometime soon.

Don Malarkey

He buys you a drink at the bar.

He's been eyeing you up all night and eventually he just gets up and strides over to you determinedly.

He's really sweet; he asks loads of questions and he really listens. He wants you to know he's interested and he's keen.

For the rest of the night he only has eyes for you, he may have just met you but he feels like he's known you for ages. He's just really comfortable with you from the get go.

You sit together until closing time, and he insists on walking you home

He drops you at your doorstep and he's super respectful, standing back and letting you know he doesn't expect anything from you because he's not that kinda guy.

"So," he says causally, but you can hear the hope in his voice, "any chance I could see you again some time?"

"How about tomorrow for lunch?" You reply, beaming at him as you close your front door.

Carwood Lipton

Lip meets you at the grocery store.

He sees you trying to reach something on the top shelf and he can't help but come over to help.

He leans up beside you and grabs it easily, holding it out to you with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," he says shyly, "I just saw you trying to reach and wanted to come help, hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind," you smile gratefully, "that was very sweet of you, thank you so much."

He kinda stands there awkwardly for a minute, unsure if what to say next or if he should just leave you to it.

You watch him for a moment, sizing him up. He seems like a sweet guy, and he's easy on the eyes too, so you decide to just go for it.

"Say, would you maybe like to grab a coffee next door?" You ask hopefully.

He blushes a little but he smiles brightly.

"Sure," he replies, "the shopping can wait."

Buck Compton

You meet Buck at a baseball game; he ends up sitting in the seat next to yours.

You're both early, so there's not many other people around you.

Eventually he introduces himself, and you two get to talking.

He's delighted that you have such an interest in baseball, and you don't even notice the seats around you filling up because you're so invested in your conversation.

"So," he asks, "are you here with someone else or...?"

You tell him you're by yourself, and he seems to be quite pleased with that information.

As the game goes on, it's like you two are having a contest for who can shout and cheer the loudest.

You guys end up having a great time together, and when the game ends you're disappointed that the fun has to come to an end.

"If you don't have any plans, how about you and I grab a drink?" He proposes, much to your delight.

"Lead the way Buck," you laugh, following him out of the stadium happily.

Hope you enjoy it 💕

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @cagzzz107 @howunexpectedlyso @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber

[mourntheantagonist]

I'm so sorry to hear that you're sick 💛 I hope things are as good as they can be for you. Take care of yourself 💛

And OH, Harringrove and the Party headcanons?

I love the idea of the Party playing D&D at Steve's (because he provides the best snacks and has a big TV they can watch later and a proper rec room and El and Max come round and go in the pool when they get bored instead of trying to drag the boys away BUT mostly because they love Steve!)

And anyway. Steve joins in sometimes, but only for causal games because he never really had the attention span for it, so mostly he and Billy just do their own thing. Cuddles on the sofa or cooking together or something like that.

Except one time.

When they're watching a movie and Billy's getting distracted by the argument the kids are having over their plan for the super important quest. And Steve wonders if he's getting upset by the raised voices (because Dustin and Mike especially have pretty heated arguments at times) but then Billy growls in annoyance and strides into the rec room.

And Steve panics, thinking he's angry at the kids for making so much noise.

But instead he sits down, calls their plan stupid, points out all the things they SHOULD do (which are all these things Will had been quietly suggesting but he'd been ignored) and basically shows a LOT of very detailed D&D knowledge.

He ends up getting totally drawn in to the game, and by the next campaign, Will's made him a whole character sheet with a lil illustration!

🍒

oh I adore this !! also thanks for sending this when I was sick 💙 I’m feeling a lot better now

also, preface: my knowledge of d&d is 🤏🏼 minuscule

they’d totally make the switch from mikes basement to steve’s house. their ever expanding party can no longer fit it the cooped up space under the wheeler house and there’s also the added benefit of being able to be loud and obnoxious and not have to worry about ted wheeler shutting it down. and steve house is just so much better for a good time. it’s like it was built for parties. the big new tv, the pool, ping pong and pool tables in the garage. they spend as much time there as possible. and yes of course, the main reason is they love steve!! steve is the only adult they can all stand to be around, despite will’s defense of jonathan, mike doesn’t see the enjoyment in spending time with his older sister’s boyfriend. just don’t remind him that steve is her ex.

steve pretends to be annoyed by it. greeting the party with a scoff whenever they show up to his house unannounced, but he truly did enjoy having them around, bringing life in the once dead and empty house.

steve typically watched them do their thing from afar, sometimes hang out with el when she didn’t feel like playing. they’d watch a new movie together that steve brought home from family video and snack on the wide variety of chips and crackers and dips that somehow were always stocked on his shelves. sure his parents weren’t home much, but they were sure to keep him well fed.

but other times, he’ll just be so intrigued in what they’re doing that he’ll join in on the fun. It’s not really his thing, however. he likes games that have a solid end and don’t go on for hours. that’s why you’ll never convince him to play monopoly. it also just requires too much focus and engagement for his liking, he prefers more mindless games. It’s sometimes still lonely for him even with his house full of teenagers, because he’s often listening to them scream from the rec room from the comfort of the couch in his living room. popcorn bowl in hand, watching back to the future for what seems to be the hundredth time.

that’s until he starts dating billy and soon there’s another frequent visitor to his house.

they tried to keep things between them on the downlow for a while. billy only coming over at night after all the kids had left to ensure no unannounced guests arrived. but the one time they decided to veer from that system was also the same time the whole party barged in through his front door and heard some... unsavory sounds coming from the top of the stairs. and there was no denying it at that point. billy’s camaro was parked out front and they’ve already scarred them for life.

it wasn’t necessarily surprising that they were all cool with it, but it was surprising when they constantly told steve he should invite billy over when they were all hanging out. he felt weird about it for a while, and so did billy. they never considered the idea they’d get to actually be with each other publicly or in the presence of others so it was a foreign idea for them. but one day billy decides to drive max directly to steve’s house instead of dropping her off at the wheeler’s. and he decides to stay, as if it wasn’t the plan all along.

it takes a couple of occasions for the two to progress from just sitting on the couch beside each other, to holding hands, to cuddling, all the way to kissing in front of the group. every time they made a little step forward in that arena it felt really good when the kids didn’t even bat an eye. except for kissing, but they would have that reaction no matter who they were. and the gagging noises it elicited made them only want to do it more.

billy never seemed to show much interest in the games from steve’s point of view, always seeming so content with just the two of them lying on the living room couch watching whatever movie he snagged that day.

but this time he looks pissed off. he’s got that same expression on his face when someone cuts him off or is going too slow in the passing lane. the kids are being a little rowdy, he’ll admit that, but it’s not more than usual. but maybe this was billy’s last straw.

when billy gets up from the couch, steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried for what he might do. but he was also just as scared of standing in his way because that man walked like he was on a goddamn mission.

billy gently pushes dustin out of his chair and takes a seat, earning a confused ‘what the fuck dude?’ out of him.

and he basically calls them all a bunch of idiots and tells them what they should be doing. and they all want to argue with him (except for will obviously) because billy doesn’t know anything about d&d!! except what he says makes perfect sense and they can’t argue with him if they wanted to.

and then he doesn’t leave where he’s sitting at the table. excuses it as him needing to be there to keep them from arguing. except the reason he stays is because he likes it. brings him back to the days when he was around their age playing the same game in the basement of his own friends house.

and eventually he does start joining in on future campaigns. by now he’s got his own character and everyone is always talking about how it’s great having a barbarian in the group because “steve made a terrible barbarian”. that would always come with a loud “hey!” from the other room, because they always said it loud enough to hear.

at first steve thought he’d be upset that billy started playing with the kids and not spending the time with him, but he just loved watching billy get along with everyone. it made it worth it to see billy so loose and free like that, and it wasn’t like billy didn’t make time for him afterwards...

[shinebrite97]

Part 8

Read part 7 here

          Yuri had overslept. Massively.                By the time she stumbled down the stairs to the main floor and into the dining room, still adjusting the last top button on her uniform jacket, only Levi and Belphegor remained.                "You're lucky Lucifer left already," Levi said. "He was steaming mad when you didn't come down to breakfast."               "Why didn't you come to my room if you couldn't sleep?” Belphie asked. Yuri yawned, rolling her eyes as she picked up a roll from the table.               “It’s fine,” She said. “I have to go.”               She made the trip alone, something so rare that it took her half the walk to realize. By the time she took the last bite of bread, she slowed her stride, taking in the sounds of the pitch black morning and the slightly humid air, all the way up the incline that led right to the gates of RAD.                An eternity of demon college is somehow better than the next fifty years in the workforce…

             She could see the tower of the north wing in the distance, picking up the pace as other demons walked around her. They mostly ignored her now, fully used to the presence of the exchange students, not to mention the scent of the seven powerful demons that lingered on her soul.                Several demons, some in humanoid forms, others nothing more than black shapes clothed in the gray and red, walked into the building, while others hung around in the courtyard. It was a scene Yuri had witnessed in her own school days and then in anime as an adult.               Thinking of anime instantly brought Levi to the front of her mind, and thinking of Levi caused her to smile. She felt bad now about being snappy as she left the house, and decided to apologize later...after her apology to Lucifer.                But first there was a far more pressing appointment.

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                She knew exactly which turns to make, and which stairs to run up to get to the council room. And when she skidded to a halt outside the doors, she heard a causal argument happening inside.                 "Lucifer, I promise you. Yuri is just fine."                "Then why won't you tell me what is going on?"                 "I would need her permission first."                "Permission? From a human?" Lucifer huffed. "Have you forgotten your place, milord?"                “Of course not.” Diavolo replied in a low voice. Yuri knocked on the door, three loud hard knocks that stung her knuckles before she opened the door.                “Yuri…” Lucifer said.                “Sorry I'm late,” She said. “You wanted to see me, Lord Diavolo?”                “Yuri…” he smiled. The welcoming expression was fleeting though, as the smile fell and he turned to face Lucifer again. “I need to speak with you privately.”               “Of course.” She replied.               “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”                Lucifer’s voice was as sharp as the crack of a whip. Yuri stiffened where she stood, shrinking back at his ferocious roar, an action that did not go unnoticed by Diavolo who took a few steps toward her, standing in front of her as he glared at Lucifer.               “Have some decorum, Lucifer!” He snapped. “There is no need to take your frustration out on her.”               “I’ve tried to give you both the benefit of the doubt, Milord...I told Yuri she had a week to settle matters before I expected an explanation, but my patience is running thin. What could be so bad that you feel the need to hide it from me while I am in front of you?”               Talk about FOMO… Yuri tried to hide the smile from that thought in her head and turned her attention to Diavolo.               “Yuri,” Diavolo finally said. “I asked you to come here because I received a call yesterday afternoon from the RAD newspaper. They would like to do an editorial about my upcoming coronation, and they’d like to interview us together.”               “I see.” She replied.                “Why does the RAD newspaper want to interview Yuri?” Lucifer asked. “How are you involved with my charge, Milord?”                “Sir...we should just tell him.” Yuri said.                “I agree. It’s far too late to stay a secret.”               “This had better be good.”  Lucifer crossed his arms, eyes narrowed stoically as he waited.               "Yuri and I are romantically involved."                Lucifer's stance fell. His jaw dropped so quickly his chin could have hit the floor, and his eyes widened.                "We recently made things official." She added.                "We will be married at my coronation ceremony."               Everything happened so quickly, it almost seemed like nothing happened. When Yuri brought her eyes up to face Lucifer, she realized he'd shifted into his demon form. In a heartbeat, he'd rushed them. The smell of black coffee and cologne wafting through the air as Diavolo was whisked from her side.                "STOP!" She screamed.                In another instant, Lucifer was thrown across the room, landing hard against a desk with a resounding crash.  He stood up, lips a tense line as he brushed off the shoulders of his cloak.                “Is this true?” he asked. The silence resonated, no one uttering a sound until Lucifer’s sharp eyes landed fully on Yuri. She nodded nervously.                “Yes,” She said. “We’ve been dating.”                “For how long?”               “A few days ago,” Diavolo said. “The night I kept Yuri at the castle, I was educating her on my lineage.”               “Does anybody else know?”                “Only Barbatos.” Diavolo replied.               “I suppose that’s to be expected.” He crossed his arms, bringing his attention back to Yuri who stood frozen by Diavolo’s side. “And you are fully consenting to this, Yuri?” He asked.               “Of course!” She said quickly.               “I suppose I don’t have any reason to disagree then,” Lucifer said. “But, milord...wasn’t it you who said that the taboo of interspecies relations still held?”                “Yes.” He said. “But I planned on addressing that during the interview.”               “And what time will that be held?” Yuri asked.                “Yes, what time?” Lucifer asked.                “This afternoon, I’ve arranged it to fit in with the break so we can be seated, made up, and answer the questions in time for the last class of the day.”                “You know,” Yuri said. “Yesterday in summoning, the students were saying that you had a side piece. I wonder what their reactions will be when they find out it’s me.”                “A side piece?” Diavolo asked.                “Oh, like… a girl who was only with you for the money…” Yuri explained.               “I see…” Diavolo replied. She watched as his smile fell, his eyes lowered and his frame dissolved. “Yuri….that’s not how you…..feel, is it?”                “What?” She gasped. “No! Not at all! I…"               “It's alright, Yuri," he said. "I believe you." Yuri noticed that while Diavolo flashed his big smile at her, he didn't sound certain.                 Is he...self-conscious?                She couldn't say another word before Lucifer placed a gloved hand on her back. He was firm, probably angry, but being reasonable in the face of his elder.               “Shall I escort Yuri for her first class?” Lucifer asked, stiffly shifting back into his respectable humanoid form.               “Is that alright, sir?” She asked, looking up to meet Diavolo’s eyes. His face softened, eyes crinkling as his smile grew, his cheeks coloring at the tips and she returned the emotion. He nodded.               "I will see you at lunch." He said.                “Come Yuri."               The walk was awkward and silent. Lucifer’s prominent footsteps echoed through the hallway as he breezed past the trophy cases, old secret passageways, and the ancient weapons that now served as mere decoration.                "I am surprised." He said. "Of all the paths your life could have taken, Yuri… of all the people you could give yourself to, you have chosen the crowned prince of the Devildom."               "Funny how things work out." She replied.               "So do you love him?" Lucifer barely slowed down whereas Yuri froze where she stood, foot slowly returning to the side of the other. Lucifer turned on his heel to face her, arms crossed and eyes cynically narrowed.               "I trust you would never do anything to harm him or attempt to undermine his authority, correct?"                "Of course not!" She replied.                "So what is this dynamic anyway?" He asked. "What made you agree to court Lord Diavolo?"                Yuri bit her lip. A million reasons filed through her head like a rolodex. He's a friend. He's the prince. He's the boss. It sounds fun. He's handsome. It's a challenge.               "As Lord Diavolo explained it to me, in order to take the throne he needs the training, the approval of the leaders and the previous king, and a partner who can ensure an heir."               "An he               "And he asked you--" his angry expression cracked, those black eyes widening and his scowl loosening into something almost scandalized. "Yuri! You agreed to…."               "Yes, Lucifer," She said. "At the time, I'll admit I didn't think about that part at all. He'd taken me to that really nice restaurant and his exact words were 'I need you to marry me.' He waited for me to make a choice, and I guess I still didn't think about...the whole thing...even then, but…I don't know, I guess...I want to help him?"               "It is still a bit unbelievable to me." He said. "A human girl…"               "That has pacts with seven very powerful demons," she added. "A human girl that survived how many different times?"                "Yuri…"               "Besides, I can't lie," she smirked and looked away. "I've always had a thing for an older partner."                 Lucifer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up to the ceiling, slowly rolling his neck before fixing her with an unreadable gaze.               "I would say don't mention this to my brothers, but they'll see it in the newspaper tomorrow." He straightened his uniform as he turned on his heel, ready to continue the walk to her classroom.               "I will work alongside Barbatos to see if there are any loopholes to this marriage predicament. Go along for now, we will inform the others privately that it is a farce, and that should minimize the dramatics. We will see what we can do."               "Lucifer?" She asked.               "Never mind it, Yuri." He said. "I am simply looking out for you as is my duty as your ambassador." 

                                             - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

              Yuri wasn’t sure when she zoned out, or when the lecture had ended. But the persistent poking on her back finally caused her to snap to attention.               “There you are~” Asmodeus said. “As I was saying…” Yuri tried to pay attention, but between her lack of sleep, and the confrontation with Lucifer earlier, and now his tampering into a carefully constructed plan, she felt hopeless.                “Yuri?” Asmodeus asked, snapping his fingers in front of her face.               “I’m sorry Asmo,” She said. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Kind of feeling a bit overwhelmed today.”                “Oh Yuri~” He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He reached over, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.” “During our break, let's go down to the salon, we’ll get you a nice relaxing facial and get you feeling like your pretty little self again, okay?”               “Sorry,” She said. “I can’t today. I'm supposed to meet Lord Diavolo.”               “Lord Diavolo?” She asked. “Why?”                “I don’t know.” She lied.                “He’s been stealing a lot of your attention lately,” He whined. “There’s really not enough of you to go around…”                “How about tonight?” She said. “Once school’s done for the day. I could use something nice.”               “There’s hope for you yet.” He winked, poking her nose with a grin. “See you later then,” He said. “Don’t forget!”               Yuri stood up, going through the motions just like the demons around her, all rising and moving on to the next class.                She plopped herself down next to Solomon, noticing that he’d taken off his cloak and rolled up his sleeves.                She remembered how warm it was on her walk in the morning, and took the time to admire the markings on his arms, black like ink crawling up his forearm, no doubt snaking up his biceps as well. Pact markings from 72 demons.                She wondered where Asmo’s was.                “...Yuri?”                She shook herself out of her reverie in time to catch Solomon discreetly waving a hand in front of her face.                “Huh?”                “Satan wasn’t kidding.” He muttered. “Something has you very preoccupied.”               “It’s been a strange few days.” She said.                “Well, strange certainly is a word for the Devildom.”               “Ha, yeah…” She brought her attention back to the notebook in front of her. Her small handwriting filled a quarter of the page with detailed notes in latin, and with one glance over at Solomon’s notebook, she knew she was falling behind.               Not very becoming of the future queen...

[eternalstann]

Celebrity

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: swearing?? Flufff

Summary: You and Tom just so happen to each other’s celebrity crushes 🥰

"Y/N, Y/N!" The photographers called out as you walked along the red carpet. You loved your job but the photographers and paparazzi were endlessly annoying. It was your third VMA's. You'd been a very successful singer for a while now, but this year you'd done your first big movie. You'd gotten nominated for 4 awards. You gave one last smile before walking into the building. Your manager walking to your side immediately.

"You're performing at 10:15 so enjoy the show while you can- I'll come get you around 9:30. You're sitting in the front row. We wanted to push the fact that you're focusing on acting right now so we sat you next to other actors." He glanced at his phone, "Brie Larson on your left and - Tom Holland on your right." You tried to hold in your excitement at the names he said. You were a huge fan of Marvel movies, so to sit next to Captain Marvel and Spiderman?! You were ecstatic. "Thank you Donovan" you spoke, kissing him on the cheek before walking off to mingle.

You snuck behind your friend Shawn Mendes when you saw him slapping up Drake. "Omg my two favorite Canadians!" You joked, hugging Shawn and then Drake. "Y/N, you look incredible" Shawn spoke, gripping your waist and taking in your appearance. "Like a snack" Drake added, snatching you from Shawn and twirling you around. "Thank you guys! And a snack?! Y'all look like full course meals and dessert" They both laughed at your comment. "So what's the moves for tonight mamacita?" Drake asked and you smirked, "You already know, everyone back at my place for the after party" you exclaimed, already excited. "Aye!" They both cheered in unison. It was very well known you threw the best parties in Hollywood as of late. "Text me and let me know if you need anything love" Shawn hugged you again, and told him you would before walking to your seat.

You felt eyes on your back, but when you turned around there was no one there.

Little did you know your seat neighbor Tom Holland had watched your whole interaction. He was chatting with Jake Gyllenhaal, Jacob and his brother Harry when he saw you. "Holy shit, that's Y/N" Jacob whispered, pointing over at you. "Every song she makes is an absolute banger! Tom go introduce us" Harry joined in. "No fucking way she's literally talking to Drake, I can't go over there" Toms heart ached watching you giggle with the two men. He'd literally never spoken to you, but he'd developed quite the crush on you. He watched all your interviews, and loved your music. You made him feel like he was in elementary school again. "Just go!" Jake exclaimed, shoving him in your direction.

Tom stumbled before catching his stride and following behind you. He didn't know if he should jog to catch up with you, or do an awkward speed walk, so he just kept his normal pace. He mentally kicked himself when he didn't make it to you before you got to your seat. He tried to causally walk past you as you sat down, but did a double take and tripped over his own feet when he saw his face on the chair beside you. Tom literally wished the floor would swallow him up so he could disappear forever when he hit the ground in front of you.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" You ask the man laying at your feet, and you could hardly contain your excitement when you realized it was none other than Tom fucking Holland. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine" he insisted, pushing himself up with the help of your extended arm. Once he's off the ground and in his chair you introduce yourself. "Hey, I'm Y/N" you beam at him, turning your body to face him. "I know who you are, I think everyone does" he laughs, reaching out his hand for you to shake. You ignore his cue, pulling him in for a hug. "You smell really nice" he murmurs and it was your turn to laugh. "Thank you; it's so nice to meet you!" You tell him and he shakes his head. "Me?! It's nice to meet you! I'm a huge fan" he expresses and your heart races, he's a fan?

The next twenty minutes turn into a compliment competition; the two of you just spewing nice things to each other and laughing. You even joke through the start of the show, Brie shushing the two of you which only makes you laugh harder. "What are you doing tonight?" You ask him while a presenter was rambling on about something. "Nothing, why?" He quips back and he can feel himself start to sweat, were you going to ask him out?

"and the winner of the best collaboration award.....Y/N and Drake for Rewind!"

You were caught completely off guard, you and Tom both look at each other in shock. "That's you, get up there!" He exclaims, a wide smile on his face. He stands with you and walks you to the stage, he hands you off to Drake at the steps and you thank him. You reach the microphone and stand in front of the huge crowd, Drake next to you and begin to talk. "Wow, um, I really wasn't expecting this-" you cringe in your head, everyone says that- "but thank you all so much! We truly have the best fans in the world. Your support is unmatched and I love you all so much!" You cheer raising up your moon man and stepping aside to let Drake talk. You weren't even really listening to what he was saying, all you could focus on was Tom standing there staring at you with a face full of admiration. You didn't want to be corny but you were positive you were in love with him. And he looked really good. Like you wanted to tie him up keep him all to yourself good.

Next thing you know your being escorted off the stage and you hug your manager backstage. "Congratulations" he tells you and thank him, before turning to make your way back to your seat. "Girl where are you going? It's 9:26, you need to start getting ready" you sigh, you loved performing but you wanted to go back with Tom. You scroll through your Instagram while getting your hair done and see Brie Larsons story, you click on it. You smile at the selfie the two of you took. What you weren't expecting though was to see a video of you and Tom laughing together with the caption "get a room🤣🥴". You immediately go to your own profile and begin to go through your tagged pictures. A lot of you in your dress on the red carpet, screen caps of you and drake accepting the award and then boom; you and Tom. You click on reposts and screenshots of the video and read some of the captions.

'Yessss Y/N get that superhero dick!'

'Omg they look so good together- we have no choice but to stan'

'Ew bye he better stay away from the queen'

'and I oop-'

'Tom shooting his shot 👀'

'Thank you Brie Larson this is the content we deserve'

“She always fuck with white boys smh”

And so it begins you you think to yourself. You realize you never even followed Tom, on your real account at least. Only your account you use to lurk, so you press the button the blue button. Tom doesn't leave your mind the rest of the time you spend getting ready. You don't think about anything besides Tom until the time you start performing. And even then, you can't help but look for him in the crowd.

Your performance goes almost perfectly, you have the best adrenaline rush afterwards. But once again you're sat back in the hair and makeup chair. You're not gonna lie you probably needed it after how much you were sweating on stage. They bring out your dress, but it's a different one. A short backless white dress, much different from your earlier gown. "Donovan what is this?" You ask your manager. "Your dress for the party. We have to go make sure everything is all set- and yes I know you wanna go see your little boo thing Tom but we don't have time!" He replies, motioning for you to put on the dress. You groan and slip it on before following him out to the car waiting outside.

You get back to your house, doing a quick walk through to make sure everything is in place. Taste testing the food and liquor. You knew tonight was going to be crazy. Everyone would be amped up from the awards and live performances, you were starting to get excited. You were proud of your party throwing skills- until you realized you never got the chance to invite Tom. "Shit!" You shout, actually face palming. You pull out your phone and try to figure out the best way to get a hold of him. You text Zendaya- she would definitely have his number. Seven minutes go by with no response, the party starts in less than an hour. "Fuck it.." you mutter, opening Instagram and typing out a DM to Tom,

'Hey Tom, I'm throwing a party tonight and I would love for you to come. You can bring whoever you want. Hope to see you there!'

So basic, but it'd have to do. You didn't wanna look too thirsty or something. You sent the address in a separate message. You didn't even notice your leg bouncing up on down in anticipation, waiting for him to respond. You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your door opening and closing, then voices. It was Shawn, Drake and some of their friends. "Hey guys" you chirp and they come over to greet you.  "Do either of you guys know Tom Holland?" You ask and they raise they're eyebrows. "No 'how are you?' Or anything first?" Drake would laugh you would just rolled your eyes, "I'm serious!"

"Spider-Man? No I don't know him, but we follow each other on Instagram" Shawn spoke. “Ughh you guys are no help-“ you were cut off by the sound of your phone dinging. It was Tom! You take a deep breath before opening the message.

“Oh I’ll absolutely be there, see you soon love. Thanks for the invite xx”

You could feel yourself swooning and let out a little squeal. “He’s coming!” You inform your guests before the doorbell rang again. You go to open it and this time there’s a multitude of people waiting to come in - not to mention the linebof black cars and limos in the round-about dropping off even more guests. Bella & Gigi Hadid, Niall Horan, Halsey, ASAP Rocky & Big Sean, Normani and more. You hug everyone who comes in, joking with Sean about his song playing through the speakers. You drink and talk with everyone, but you can’t help but keep glancing at the door. You were really waiting for one person. After half an hour you finally settle in, maybe he wasn’t coming.

You’re sitting on the couch, on Bella’s lap pretending to listen to Lewis Capaldi talk about how nervous he is for his U.S tour. Your attention is drawn to the door though when you hear a familiar laugh. “Tom!” You exclaim, unable to hide your excitement immediately going over to him. He hugs you and you wish he’d never let go. He does though before introducing you to his guests. “This is my brother Harry, and this is my friend Jacob” he informs you and you smile at both of them before embracing them as well. “It’s so great to meet you! Make yourselves at home, can I get you some drinks?” You inquire, gesturing towards the kitchen. “They got it” he spoke whisking you away.

“Listen, Y/N, I know you hear this all the time but I think you’re an amazing woman and I’d love to take you out sometime”

“I’d love that Tom!”

________________

PT 2 HERE!

lmaooo what a shitty ending, but I feel like this has potential to be a series but idk. I like Y/N and I like kind of shy Tom 🤧

Love you all, feel free to hmu ❤️

[childofhelios]

“flower blooms and falls scars cure and buds shoot”

ship: Hades!Doyoung x Persephone!Taeyong

characters: Doyoung, Taeyong, with appearances by Jeno and mention of Zeus!Johnny and Poseidon!Ten 

rating: general/teen for slight injury and mentions of blood, also slight possessiveness from Doyoung but he regrets it very soon after

genre: fluff with angst for like .5 seconds

word count: 2.8k

title was taken from seventeen’s fallin’ flower, which is really good to listen to while reading! also, tell me if there are any mistakes bc i did convert a piece of my other writing into this fic. but anywho enjoy and feel free to send a message/ask about what you think about it :DDDD

“Taeyong, please just come out.” I lean my forehead against the black, walnut door where I can hear him franticly running around her room.  “We can talk about this like civilized people.” I hear him begin to mutter under his breath and I catch him saying my name and a few unpleasant phrases that I wish weren't associated with my name, but alas. “Taeyong, don’t you think you’re being a little immature? You’re acting like a child!” 

I almost fall forward as the door opens suddenly. Taeyong’s eyes were ablaze with fury as he stares at me in front of his door.  

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, Doyoung. I just didn’t expect to get kidnapped by someone that I’ve never met, starved for six months, accidentally eat a pomegranate, and then be stuck in this terrible, dreary place with no other company other than the dead and you. And I would rather spend time with the dead!”  

“Believe me, the dead are worse company than I am.” 

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” I jolt at his loud voice echoing through the manor. I’ve had his presence for over six months, and I’m still not used to having people around me. To having an actual living, breathing person in my company. He sweeps a hand through bubblegum pink bangs and takes a deep sigh. “Doyoung, I beg of you. The humans need me. Without me, they’ll die. I need to go back on the surface to assist my mother.” 

I roll my eyes. “Humans are made to die. It’s how they're made to be. Plus, She’s is a goddess that has been around for centuries. She was able to assist humans without you there. Besides,” I take a hold of his hands, his beautiful tan contrasting against the blueish pallor of mine, “didn’t you say you loved me?” 

Yanking his hand out of mine, he says, “I said I loved you a little. And if I knew that it would go straight to your head and you would try to use against me, I wouldn’t have said it. If you had given me the chance, maybe it could have grown. Maybe I would have been able to become your bride.” 

“Taeyong, you can’t leave. I finally got used to having someone with me. You can still become my husband.” 

“Doyoung. You can’t just keep me here because you’re lonely.” 

I sigh and rise to my full height, towering over him slightly. “You’ve misunderstood me. You can’t leave. I forbid it.” 

He scoffs and pushes past me. “Haven’t you heard of free will? I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.” Before he rounds the corner, something whizzes by his face. He whips around, furious with a small cut on his cheek beginning to spill golden ichor. I stride up to him and yank the sharpened ruby out of the wall.  

“It seems that you've forgotten who I am. I am Doyoung, the god of the underworld and riches. I am one of the oldest gods to exist and I’ll be one of the last to disappear. Did you think you’ll be able to leave that easily? This is my domain and I decide what comes in and out of it. And you,” I crush the ruby and let the powder run through my fingers like sand, “aren’t going anywhere, my little lotus. Now, you can walk to your room on your own, or I can have Cerberus escort you back there. Your choice, my dear.” 

If looks could kill, I would already be six feet under as Taeyong stares up at me. Slowly, he steps away and walks in the direction of his door. I watch as he leads a trail of ichor and shuts his door with a forceful SLAM! 

 I begin walking towards my quarters. As soon as I close my door, my knees give out. “Gods, why did I do that? You know that he’s right. We can’t force him here; he’s going to be unhappy and what’s the point of having him here if he’s upset the entire time?” I stare down at my hands as they tremble slightly. “I injured him. On purpose, I made him bleed.” It’s a weird feeling to be shaken by blood when that’s what I deal with every day. I see the most gruesome of murders and war causalities but injuring a minor god has me shaking in my boots. I wobble over to my sink and submerge my face underwater. I came up gasping for air and catch my reflection in the mirror. At the rate I’m paling, I’ll look more like a ghost than the people outside the manor. My eyes resemble the darkest of obsidian and have deep eye bags underneath them, my face is sunken in as if I’m a beggar from the streets, and my hair is matted in every which way. The longer I stare at myself, the more I can see the monster Taeyong must see.  

“JENO!” My voice booms and seconds later, a pile of bones bursts through the door. No, quite literally, a disassembled skeleton falls through my door and onto the ground before me. The skull, sporting a flat cap, turns towards me and grins widely.  

“Master Doyoung! What can I do to help you today?” 

“Please tend to Mr. Taeyong from now own. First, make sure his wound is taken care of. Second, make sure he eats, sleeps, and does whatever else he needs and wants to do. Do you understand?” 

“Absolutely, Master. He’s in the right hands. Or, um, bones.” 

“No tricks, Jeno. I don’t think our guest would appreciate that. And neither would I.”  

Jeno’s voice takes on a mischievous tone. “Guest? Don’t you mean groom, Master? Unless you’re having second thoughts?” 

“I’m not sure what you mean. But I do know this.” I pick up the skull and stare fiercely where the eyes would have been. “If you do anything to upset her, I will crush your bones into powder and use it as incense for the next 30 years. Do you understand?” 

“Would my bones even last that long?” 

“Do you really test me right now?” 

“Fine. I understand. Now, can you please put me back together again?” I roll my eyes, but I set down the skull in the middle of the bones. My eyes glow a bright gold and with a wave of my hand, the skeleton assembles once more. He fidgets with his cap.  

“Now, that’s much better!” 

“What happened to you?”  

“Cerberus tried to use me as a chew toy. Again.” 

“I knew there was a reason he’s my favorite.”  

“I would take personal offense to that but, he’s my favorite too.”  

“Go to Taeyong. Make sure she’s alright.”  

“Your wish is my command, Master.” As he walks out the door, his bones clatter and then I’m left in silence. I fall back into my bed, wondering if I should just apologize to him directly. I did act unreasonably, and I shouldn’t have let my anger explode like that, but I don’t want him to leave. As I lay there, I slowly drift off.  

 The next month is difficult for multiple reasons. First, immediately after I send Jeno to take care of Taeyong, he throws a fit and makes flowers grow out of every hole in his skeletal body. Then, he refuses to eat with me or even look at me. I would walk down the hall and he’d sprint into a side room just to avoid me. And let’s not even get started with the escape attempts. You would think after about 10, he would give up. But no. He has tried to escape more than 50 times. Fifty. I swear to the gods, he’s making me grow gray hairs just from stress. Then we have Johnny, Ten, and practically the entirety of the Pantheon breathing down my neck trying to bring her back. And I’ve explained to them multiple times that it’s the law of the underworld and I can’t change it simply because one young goddess is down here. But now, Thunder Thighs and Kelp-for-Brains can’t grasp it for some reason.  

I sit behind my desk, grasping my head as I glare at the piles of scrolls in front of me. You would think death was pretty cut and dry, but no. I have to deal with making sure bodies end up with families, people don’t act on stupid grudges and become monsters to kill people, or something else entirely stupid. I pick up one scroll when the door cracks open.  

“Jeno, I thought I told you if you disturbed me, I would- “  

“Let Cerberus year me apart and keep me as his chew-toy, I know, I know. But it’s urgent.”  

I drop the scroll in my hand. “If it means I can get out of my work, I’m all ears.”  

“Mr. Taeyong…. He’s disappeared again, Master.”  

The pounding in my head worsens. “Oh.” 

“Shall I go after him? Or maybe send some people after him?” 

“No, just leave him. If he’s this persistent to leave, then we should just let him go.” 

“But, Master!” 

“Enough, Jeno. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a rest before I break the law of my land.” I stand and stagger my way to my bedroom, ignoring Jeno’s shouts and how my head worsens with each step I take. Ugh, this whole affair is such a mess. I shouldn’t have gotten myself involved with him in the first place. I close my eyes and the next time they open; the sky had faded from the morning’s light dusk to the afternoon’s midnight blue. I rise with my robes wrinkled and sleep in my eyes. I find my way to the kitchen and snag an apple before heading to the endless pile of scrolls I left. On my way there, I see Taeyong’s door slightly ajar.  

“Jeno, I thought I told you about going through other people’s things? You never-” Instead of seeing that insufferable skeleton with a guilty grin, I find Taeyong unpacking a bag. “You’re back.” 

“Not by choice, unfortunately.”  

“Oh? I thought you had left. Did Jeno stop you? I told him not to and not to send anybody either.” 

“No, my mother stopped me. Talked about how if I came back before my time here was finished, you would kill any human that even breathed wrongly. So, now I’m back here. I’m sure you’re ecstatic about it.” 

“No!” He looks at me suspiciously, setting down the robes he took out of his bag. “I knew you didn’t want to be here, so I thought not going after you once you had left would finally let you be happy. But it appears to be untrue.” He shakes his head and turns back to his clothes. “If there’s anything I can do that would make it easier for the next five months, please tell me.” 

“I don’t know. Not being here would be pretty great.” 

I wince. “Other than that?” 

“Answer this for me. You say you want me here, but you act like a shriveled prune every time I’m near. Why?”  

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean.” 

“I mean this! This is both the most you’ve ever spoken to me and the nicest you’ve been to me. It’s been a month and we’ve barely talked.” 

“So, what should I do?” 

He walks past me to the door and looks back at me from the doorframe. “Show me. Be sincere and I’ll see if I’ll want to stay.” He walks off and I’m just left stupefied in her room. I all but sprint to my office and start scrawling out two letters.  

I summon Jeno and give him a message. “Give this to Ten and Johnny. Tell them to respond to me immediately.” 

If immediately means 6 days later, I fear for their subjects. As I skim through both of their letters, I see the same pattern of making fun of me, attempting to help, and then making fun of me again. I should have expected it from Airhead, but I thought Ten would be at least somewhat helpful. I throw both of their scrolls in the fire because there was no use in keeping those around. I slam my head into my desk a couple of times, wallowing.  

Over several days, I tried every trick known to man and god. But it either ends with me making a fool of myself or just making Taeyong even angrier. I squat in the garden and hang my head in defeat. The artificial sun in the sky beats down on my skin and my hands are covered in coarse dirt.  

“Master, are you sure you don’t want us to help you? We have staff for this sort of thing.”  

I look back at Jeno. “For the fifth time, Jeno, I truly don’t mind doing this. At least, this is something to distract me from my work. I think my headache is getting better too.” 

“That must be true, sir, because you haven’t stopped smiling since you started planting. “ 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I look towards the lavender sprigs sitting next to me. “I was just thinking of Taeyong’s reaction when he sees this. I hope this brings a little bit of happiness to his stay here.” I continue planting the lavender until there was a cluster in the section closest to the entrance. At this point, I’ve only put half of the flowers in the ground. But I feel pride swell in my chest as I look at the tiny cluster I planted.  

“What are those?” I whip around to see Taeyong standing on the steps. 

“Oh, um. I was just planting some flowers in the garden. I know you’ve missed nature so I thought I would try to bring some to you.” 

“Wouldn’t they just die?” 

“No. I’ve been trying to grow different types of flowers down here and lavender was the only one that survived.” He continues to stare at me with a mysterious look in his eye. After a couple of seconds, he speeds down the stairs and gets on his knees in front of the sprigs I just planted. “What are you doing?” 

He snaps at me. “Shut up.” If it had been anybody else, they wouldn’t have been saying another word for the rest of their lives and even after that. But I close my mouth and I study Taeyong and he studies the lavender. His hands glow a soft pink and the lavender turns vibrant, almost energized. “There. That should help it for a little while.” 

“What did you just do?” 

“Just gave it a little pick-me-up.” I nod in understanding and Taeyong moves where I had placed the other flowers. “Where were you going to put these?”  

I point at the other side of the garden and he strides over there with the flowers in hand. “Ah, Taeyong. There’s no need. I have this under control.” 

He scoffs. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for the flowers because you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“Isn’t it just simply putting the plants into the ground and tending to their needs?” 

“Oh, gods. It’s so much more than that. You must be gentle and treat them with the utmost care. You move slowly and fluidly. Come here, I’ll show you.” I squat next to him and see him sprinkling dirt to cover the roots. “Doyoung?” 

“Yes, Taeyong?” 

“Did you know that there’s a language just for flowers?” 

“Really? Fascinating. Is it possible for me to learn? Can you understand it? Wait, has the lavender been speaking the entire time?” 

Taeyong giggles and the artificial sun shines brighter. “Not that kind of language. Each flower has its own meaning. Roses are passion, daisies are innocence, carnations are good fortune, etc.” 

“Wow, then what’s lavender?” 

He stares directly into my eyes, the mysterious look back on his face. “A lot of things but to name a few: purity, calmness, and... devotion.” 

The sun beats down harder, feeling like ants are crawling over my back. “Oh.” 

“Mhm. That’s why they’re one of my favorite flowers. They have a pure message, they’re absolutely beautiful, and they’re able to grow anywhere.”  

“Oh.” 

“Doyoung, do you understand what I’m saying?” 

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t the faintest idea.” 

His eye twitches and throws a handful of dirt at my chest. “You’re a fool. I’m saying I return your affections. I acknowledge your feelings and feel the same way. Gods, I’m saying I love you and I’m willing to become your husband.” 

It didn’t fully register so my response was: “Oh, that’s nice.”  

“Let’s just continue planting these before it gets too dark, or at least darker. Then, we can discuss this later.”  

And so, we spent the afternoon tending to the flowers and as the day faded to night, we fell asleep with “I love you’s” littering the air like the sweetest and most intoxicating perfume.  

[thorne93]

The Softest Fire (Part 14)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 2710

Warnings: fighting, violence, wounds, torture, abuse

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​.

The next morning, bright and early, I left the castle, alone. This time, I didn't mind. I had plans that would require me to travel without a companion. Gellert may not want answers or retaliation for the spy in our ranks, but I felt like we did. 

I made my way to a shop in town. The shop was known for custom items. 

“What can I do for you, miss?” a gray haired man asked from behind the counter. 

“I need a portkey, to Hogsmeade in London, immediately,” I informed, my tone serious and dire. “Thank you,” I tacked on with a silky smooth smile. 

“Alright. There will be an extra charge for a rush order,” he said slowly, as if that would deter me.

“I can manage any extra fee,” I confirmed.

He nodded and went away to the back to grab an item. “Will any item do?” he called up front.

“Yes! The smaller the better though!”

After five minutes, he returned with a glass orb, nothing special about it. It was a small, clear orb, small enough to slip into a purse. 

“This do ya?” 

“Perfect.” 

He charmed it and handed it to me, ringing it up. The price was heftier than expected, but I needed to do this. I left as just as the sun had finished rising over the horizon. I knew Gellert said I didn’t need to do more, but this felt right. At the very least, I could get Albus Dumbledore to listen to me. I could throw him our pitch. A man of his talents, his wisdom, he would be all we needed to unlock this world. 

He and I got along famously when I was a student, often providing me private study lessons, mainly because the material in class was so far behind me. He taught me advanced lessons and we became friends, I felt. Perhaps he would listen to me. 

I arrived at Hogsmeade and made haste to get to the entrance of the school. Once I landed there, I breathed in the air, remembering how much I loved it here. I walked up the steep hill to the entrance, greeted by a groundskeeper who asked what my business was. He clearly didn’t recognize me, because he didn’t say my name. I wondered if this was a good thing. Once I told him I was here to see Professor Dumbledore, he gave me a suspicious look but let me by. I bobbed my head and walked past him and up the stairs to the last office I knew Dumbledore to keep. 

I was in luck when I found his classroom empty, and him behind the desk. 

“Professor?” I softly said, my voice almost going childlike. Funny how old habits are hard to kick. I was a grown woman now, about to be a bride, and here I was, speaking to Professor Dumbledore as if he still held some power over my head. 

His back was to me when I opened the door. He was speaking softly before he stopped quickly. “Yes?” he asked before turning around. When he did, though, his eyes went wide before a soft smile pulled at his lips. “Rosaline Vaughan, is that you?” he questioned before standing to round the desk. 

I fully entered the room, closing the door behind me as I did so. “It’s me,” I assured with a grin. I wasn’t here on bad terms, contrary to what it might’ve looked like on the outside. Yes, a spy was sent to us. Yes, Dumbledore betrayed Gellert, but something in me kept me from being furious with him. He was as old a friend as any of mine, and this was nothing more than a causal social call. 

“You… you’re all grown up,” he stated with mystified eyes. 

I nodded. 

“Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he questioned quickly, still grinning, warmth radiating off of him. 

“I thought I would just… come and see you,” I half lied, feeling bad for it. “Actually,” I began again, already correcting it, “I know about Joshua, the spy,” I admitted.

He bobbed his head, his jaw opening to speak but then he snapped it shut. 

“It was clever. I’m afraid Gellert was a bit privy to it, though,” I informed, no malice or threat in my voice. 

“So you’re here to… what? Exact revenge?” 

“I take it you know about the engagement?” I wondered. 

At this, he turned and began slowly walking back to his desk. I followed. 

“I do,” he admitted. “I can honestly say I’m surprised. You and Grindelwald… He’s older than you. He’s my age,” he stated, as if I didn’t know. He reached his desk, leaning on it, his hands gripping the edges.

“Yes, I know,” I responded with a gentle smile. 

“I’m not your father, I can’t and won’t judge you for your choice of companion. But I must admit I was shocked when I read the announcement in the paper.” 

I laughed lightly. Of course he would. “I… I don’t know what to say except I love him and he shows me care and concern that most people have failed at.” 

“A word of advice?” he suddenly offered, leaning forward a bit, peering at me. 

I bobbed my head. 

“He does that. He targets weak spots for people, and nurtures them. I know you’re smart. Clever. I know you would see past any sort of manipulation.” 

My throat became tight as I peered at him. 

“However, if this is real, then I wish you all the happiness in the world,” he assured with a star-studded smile. 

“Thank you.”

“Is it just you then? Grindelwald isn’t with you?”

I shook my head. “No, no he isn’t. He doesn’t even know I’m here. I wanted to see you on my own.” 

“Why is that?”

“Well, for one, to discuss why you sent a snitch our way. Secondly, to discuss you joining us.” 

His eyes blew wide as he leaned farther forward, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. 

“You can’t be serious. Me? Join Grindelwald?” 

I peered at him, my expression entirely serious. “Why not?” I went to lean on the desk beside him. “Come on, Professor. With your wisdom, your power, your talent… Next to Gellert and I, we will rule this world.” 

“Is that what you’re after now? When I taught you, all you wanted to do was make the world a better place. Did he change that?” 

“I still do want to make the world a better place,” I retorted, my voice hard. 

“By killing hundreds of our own kind?” he remarked incredulously. 

“We want peace, that’s all. We don’t want to hurt wizards, witches, or muggles. You don’t understand what he wants. You’ve been misinformed,” I tried with my usual sugary voice.

He shoved off the table. “Rosaline, I know him. I know him better than anyone else in the world. He is using you. He is manipulating you. What Gellert Grindelwald wants and what I want are two vastly different things.” 

“Don’t you want to come out of hiding?” I implored. “Instead of being holed up inside this school? You could be so much more. You are so much more. You possess greatness, and you’re squandering it.” 

“Is that how you felt when you left the Ministry?” he fired at me.

“You kept tabs on me?” 

“Of course. My brightest student? The only one who could out-duel me? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Afraid I’d turn dark?”

“No, I wanted to see how you would take your power and make this world better. When you were running for office, I was proud of you.” 

“And when I left?” 

A subdued smile came over his face before he looked down at the floor, then back up at me. “Even prouder. I heard you went to work with Newt, to help with his creatures. I knew you would do splendidly.” 

I couldn’t help the blush that rose to my cheeks. “Thank you, Professor. That means a great deal to me,” I admitted. “But I take it from your distaste for our cause, that you won’t be joining us?” 

With his hands in his pockets, he peered up at me. “No, Rosaline, I can’t.” 

“Are you sure though?” I stressed. “Imagine a world where we are rightfully at the top of the food chain, where we belong, where you belong. You, out of everyone should know the frustration of hiding.” 

“It does not bother me one bit to live where muggles don’t know we exist. It’s easier this way, Rosaline, you know that. You know if we became common knowledge it would be utter chaos.” 

“Would it though?” I challenged. “Think about if we got the muggles… in their place, so to speak.” 

“Rosaline--” 

At that moment, the door flew open, where Gellert stormed in, his dark coat flying around him. He was flanked by two people -- Vinda and Abernathy. His face was the fiercest, most dangerous I’d ever seen. His stormy eyes found mine quickly and a boulder of guilt formed in my gut. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded in a chilled tone.

I was too scared to answer. I knew how this looked, and I knew it looked bad.

“Answer me, Rosaline!” he barked and I complied.

“I came to see Dumbledore to talk to him about the spy and about recruiting him.” 

His eyes flashed from mine to the man behind me. “You will do no such thing,” he ordered and my head hung. 

“Yes, Gellert,” I acquiesced in a hushed tone. 

Gellert made his way over to me quickly, grabbing my upper arm roughly. “You will never leave the castle unattended again. Is that understood? I had no idea where you were, if you were hurt. You had me worried sick.” With that, he tugged on my arm, making me stumble forward to keep up with his long strides.

“Grindelwald, don’t hurt her! We were only talking!” Dumbledore called after him, taking a few strides forward, readying himself to protect me.

“I will deal with you when I’m done with her,” he called over his shoulder. “I can’t believe I find you here, consorting with my enemy, our enemy, after he sent a spy--”

“I was trying to find out about the spy,” I informed as he pulled me along. “I wasn’t here to betray you, my beloved, I swear. I was just talking with him.” 

“You expect me to believe that, after the conversation we had two nights ago?” he challenged lightly once he stopped, standing near Vinda and Abernathy. “You could’ve very well risked our entire--” 

Out of nowhere, a group of people barged into the room. Nora, Newt, Theseus, Tina, and two other aurors I did not recognize. 

“Nora?” I breathed in shock as I stared at her. 

Her eyes went straight to me, and Gellert’s hand on my arm. He immediately let me go and then smirked. Nora’s eyes flashed with fury, drawing her wand. Before I could think, my wand was out like a reflex. She shot a jinx at Gellert and I deflected it. Her expression morphed into utter shock. 

“Rosaline, I don’t want to hurt you. Come with us,” she encouraged, glancing to Gellert beside me. 

“No,” I said defiantly, lifting my chin as I stood my ground. “I’m staying here.” 

“You don’t want to stay here. I don’t know what he’s done to you but the Rosaline I know would never be with a man like him,” she urged. 

Gellert smiled at my side, speaking to my cousin. “You see, Ms. Vaughan? Rosaline chooses us. Now, can’t you respect that choice?”

As if someone lit a fuse in her, she snapped, trying to throw a spell towards Gellert but I moved in front of him protectively, deflecting the spell. My veins were lit with fire, my face a mask of beautiful rage. 

In the blink of an eye, I lifted my wand again and tried to stun her but she deflected it. She shot a slicing spell back at me, but I dodged it. Three more shots flew between us before she suddenly retrained her sights. 

Gellert smirked from behind me, pulling my long blonde locks behind my shoulder as he bent down slightly, his lips pressed to my ear. His eyes were locked forward on my opponents when he said, “End them.” 

I nodded, understanding the command completely, and I unleashed an onslaught of spells and charms within seconds. I disarmed the unknown men first, knocking their wands across the room. My sights were now set on Tina, throwing an “Expulso” her way quickly, sending her flying into the brick wall. She fell to the floor in a moaning heap. For some reason, this gave me immense pleasure. 

Theseus and Newt tried to throw a paralytic and expelliarmus charm my way, but I danced effortlessly away from them before sending Everte Statum at Theseus. He fell back and gripped his chest, pain lancing through him. 

Now it was down to Nora and Newt. 

The entire time, Gellert and my friends watched on in adoration, not lifting a finger to help, because I didn’t need it. 

“What’s the matter, Scamander?” Gellert began to tease Newt. “You had the power to reveal me, but not to attack the woman whose heart you broke?” 

Newt said nothing, his wand drawn. He seemed torn, unsure what to say or do. 

“I let you live last time, this time your outcome won’t be as fortunate,” he informed as he took a step around me and raised his wand. My gut involuntarily lurched as I watched him inflict a Crucio curse on him. Newt fell to the floor immediately, screaming from agony. I couldn’t watch. For the life of me, I didn’t know why. What could I possibly feel for this man that would make me unable to watch?

“Grindelwald, that’s enough!” Dumbledore shouted as he raced forward and stood in front of Gellert. “Stop it! You’ll kill him!” He shoved his hands in his chest, breaking the focus and his spell. 

“They’ve stopped me for the last time, Albus,” he informed darkly, getting nose to nose with Dumbledore. 

As if I were in a daze, I didn’t notice how Vinda and Abernathy tried to fight Nora, Theseus, and Tina who had all recovered from their wounds. Newt was still on the floor, gasping for air. My eyes only watched Gellert who was speaking in hushed, angry tones to Dumbledore. Magic, spells, jinxes flew across the classroom, lighting it up before suddenly I looked up and I was surrounded. I raised my wand, still in a daze, moving automatically, without thought. That was my downfall, because Nora disarmed me, rather easily. I’d never been disarmed during a duel. 

Nora threw a Confundo charm at Vinda and Abernathy, making them stop their onslaught completely. 

“Go! Go now!” Dumbledore pressed. “Get to my office!” 

My arms were being grabbed by Theseus and Newt to be forced into the office. Nora slammed the door behind all of us and locked it before we heard shouting. I heard Gellert trying to spell the door open, and suddenly I snapped out of whatever I was doing.

“What the… Let me go!” I screamed, fighting them. I went to aim my wand, only to find my wand was no longer in my hand. My frenzied eyes searched the room, and saw Tina had it. I clawed and fought my two captors. “Gellert!” I screamed as loud as my voice would go. “Unhand me!” I shouted, fighting until Nora finally turned and charmed me. 

“Immobulus,” she firmly stated.

My body and mouth instantly stopped moving, but inside I was still thrashing around in my head. 

Nora looked to the fireplace and inspected it. Meanwhile outside, the shouts and the attempts at the door had seemed to stop, making me worry for Gellert.

“It’s connected to the floo network,” she informed. 

“Do we use that?” Theseus questioned.

“What choice do we have?”

“Right.” 

With that, Nora charmed me once more with “Mobilicorpus” and she put me in the fireplace next to her. She grabbed my hand, and said her address loud and clear, and we were off, down the floo network.

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

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[flutteringphalanges]

Summary: It is public knowledge that Zoe Van Helsing is the last of her blood line. Not to mention that, in a sense, Count Dracula is too. However, after an unexpected night of passion, both their lives dramatically change when Zoe becomes pregnant. Two unconventional parents, one extraordinary pregnancy. What could go wrong?

Rating: M

Pairings: Zoe Van Helsing/Dracula implied Agatha/Dracula

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N:  Thank you to all who have left kudos/comments/reviews and even have taken the time to read this story thus far! I'm having loads of fun writing this one and I'm hoping you are enjoying it too! Okay, enough of my blabber, here's the next chapter! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                             Chapter Four

Twelve weeks. Two plums. At a development standpoint, that was the current size of each of the babies. It was a weird thought, comparing unborn fetuses to food. And yet, there was something slightly entertaining about it. The imagery. Zoe found herself in the market one day, the fruit section no less, picking up one and studying it carefully. She snorted to herself and placed a few in a basket. Plums. How peculiar.

"Well, are you going to grant me passage?"

Dracula stared intently at the scientist, an eyebrow cocked as he waited for a response. Zoe merely met his gaze dumbfounded until the realization of his unanticipated arrival set in. She frowned, one hand already gripping the door knob. Who the hell did he think he was? Had he honestly thought she'd willingly grant him passage as if they were friends?

"Why are you here?"

"I told you," he replied simply. "I came here to discuss an important matter with you. Well," once more his eyes flashed down to her stomach. A smile crept across his features that didn't settle right with Zoe. "A few things, to be frank."

"I think we've chatted more than enough," the scientist stated, moving to close the door. Dracula inserted the toe of his shoe just before she could, leaving a visible crack between them. "As much as you'd like me to, I assure you, I am not letting you come in."

The vampire seemed unfazed by her insistence, standing stoic in her line of vision. It wasn't until she got a good proper look at him that she noticed a folded piece of paper clutched in his right hand. Dracula caught on to her attention and, eyes flickering from her to his object, causally lifted the parchment up for a better view.

"What's that?" Zoe asked hesitantly, uncertain if she really wanted to know.

"A letter," the man replied. "I thought it would be appropriate to bring."

"A letter," the scientist repeated, frowning softly. "Since I've blocked you from texting me, you've resorted to physically mailing your harassment? Or hand-delivering it I should say?"

"Of course not, that would be dreadfully predictable," Dracula snorted, rolling his eyes. "No, this is something more than that. Far more important than a silly text or a friendly postcard." He paused, one of his sharp nails tracing the edge of the document. "It's a little something I had written up with Frank-you remember him, yes? Frank Renfield? My lawyer?"

As if someone hit the thermostat, the air suddenly felt colder. Uneasy settled in the pit of Zoe's stomach, and from the expression on Dracula's face, she knew he could tell he was getting to her. She remained silent, fingers still gripping the knob.

"Though I cannot be certain, I have a feeling that those who do know of your pregnancy, do not know who the father is." The count began to unfold the paper, mindlessly smoothing out the creases. "This is just a copy, don't worry," he assured her as if she cared. "Anyway, who knows and who doesn't, it's important...for now, at least. What is important is that I, just as you do, have every right to have access to my children." He held out the paper towards Zoe before adding, "...go on, take it, it won't bite you."

Reluctantly, the woman took the slip from the vampire. Her eyes scanned every word, every detail typed out before her. Arrangements. Custody. Child support. Zoe's heart began to pound against her rib cage to the point where it nearly hurt. Fury began to fester deep within her as she immediately snapped her head up to glare at Dracula.

"You're threatening me with a custody battle?!" She nearly hissed, clenching the document in her fist. "Is this some kind of morbid joke?"

"On the contrary," he assured her, tone serious. "I am very adamant about this, Zoe. I will have access to my children, even if I do have to go through legal measures." Dracula straightened up, clearly not taken by the woman's rage. "I thought that perhaps we could go about this with a civil prospective, you and I. Before it has to come to a point like that."

"You aren't taking them," Zoe said firmly, her free hand touching her stomach protectively. "They're mine."

"And I don't want to," Dracula rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "That's why I wish to talk. Only talk. Get everything out in the open so we can figure things out," his lips curled into a smirk. "As a family."

Family. He sure as hell was NOT her family. If looks could kill, there would be a million stakes embedded in the centuries old vampire's chest. The nerve. Christ, she had never despised someone more in her life. But as she stood there watching him, knowing deep down she had no other choice-hate it as she may-it had to be done. For the sake of her twins.

"You may…" she struggled, chewing on her bottom lip as she forced the next words. "You may enter."

Her grasp on the door handle loosened as Dracula offered a genuine smile before striding past her and into the main room. Out of the corner of her eye, Zoe could see Agatha's spirit giving her a disapproving look. Fantastic. Not only was she stuck dealing with the vampire, but now her great, great aunt's spirit had made its presence known too.

"Go away," she muttered under her breath, Agatha's stare reproachful. "I don't need your judgement right now."

"I'm sorry?" Dracula inquired, turning on his heels. "Did you say something?"

"No," Zoe exhaled tiredly, shooting a quick glare at her dead relative. "You can go sit at the table. I'd offer you some wine but…"

"But neither of us drink," he finished pleasantly. "At least wine, and in your condition, I believe the consumption of alcohol is frowned upon?"

"You've been reading up on pregnancy."

"A lot," he remarked. "It's lovely how much information the internet offers. Plus books on the subject are plentiful," his eyes flickered around the room. "If you'd like to borrow one, I suppose I can lend a few."

"That won't be necessary," Zoe exclaimed, somewhat irritated by the fact that he acted as if he cared, or implied she lacked the knowledge. "I can research on my own, thank you."

She eased herself down onto a chair, one that was as far away from the vampire as possible. So much for the quiet, uneventful night she had planned for. She could sense that Agatha was watching them, but apparition remained quiet.

"So," Dracula began, breaking the silence. "I suppose I should first say that I'm glad you're willing to meet on your own terms." Zoe opened her mouth, but he continued before she could get a word in. "Honestly, Zoe, for a scientist, I'm surprised how quickly you've jumped to conclusion-particularly about me. I am, after all, a myth. Legend. But facts are muddled. How are you to trust who someone truly is without getting to know them personally?"

"Your charismatic attitude only goes so far after I've literally witnessed you biting off one of my colleague's thumbs and murdering an innocent man," the scientist frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "Not to mention validated testimonies of your actions. I think it's very clear what kind of person-monster, you are."

"And yet, here we are, sitting about to discuss two offspring that share our same genetic makeup," Dracula smiled. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Your point?"

"Well, one might say we have more in common than you think," he paused, eyes narrowing just the slightest. "How are you feeling, by the way? I read by the end of your first trimester your biggest symptoms are fatigue and possibly morning sickness."

"You being here alone is exhausting," Zoe mumbled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "So what exactly do I need to do to get you off my back?"

"As I said before, all I want from you, at the moment, is to become better acquainted with me," the vampire said simply. "Perhaps with the hope you'll see that the intentions involving our children are not sinister. Say...I dunno, how does a date sound?"

If Zoe had been drinking water, she would've spit it out at his words. Had he really just suggested what she thought he did? A date? The scientist stared at the man blankly, unsure of how to respond to such a preposterous invitation. First he threatened to take custody of her children and now he wanted to go on a romantic getaway? Surely she was sleeping. This had to be a cruel nightmare.

"Well?"

"Jumping into a swimming pool of broken glass sounds more inviting," she answered, looking appalled. "All of that sea water must've gotten into your head for you to even fathom that I have an inkling of a romantic feeling towards you."

"No one said it couldn't be platonic."

"We aren't friends," Zoe emphasized. "And we won't ever be."

"You've surely inherited more from Agatha than just your looks," the vampire chuckled. "You even speak like her."

His words might've sparked some hilarity if the nun hadn't currently been hovering over the other woman's shoulder. At least the ghost hadn't attempted to possess her. Agatha had some dignity in that. Zoe massaged her temples, all of this just inflicted her ever growing exhaustion. She could rescind his invitation, but Dracula wasn't one to give up easily. Especially if he'd gone to such lengths to threaten getting legally involved in the twins' lives.

"What are you suggesting?" The scientist muttered, clearly worn down to the last stray. "What will make you leave me alone?"

"Friday night, say...around nine? You come over to my humble abode and I cook you something and we have a nice chit-chat," Dracula answered. "I'm a rather good cook, all things considered."

"I have a doctor's appointment at eight…" she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. Of course he knew.

"I'll retrieve you at half past seven so we'll make it to the clinic on time and afterwards, we can get you something to eat," he smiled. "Anything certain you've been craving recently?"

"Your head on a platter," Zoe muttered.

"So something meat based," Dracula nodded, completely unfazed by her sarcasm. "I'll do some searching on the internet and find something to fit your palate."

"Wonderful," she rolled her eyes. "I'll be looking forward to it with bated breath."

The vampire grinned, rising from his spot at the table. The scientist did the same, a feeling of relief overcoming her when she noted he was making his way to the front door. At least now maybe she could get some peace.

"It was lovely to finally speak with you," the vampire stated. "Oh, and since I believe we'll be in contact more, I'd much appreciate you unblocking my number. It will make things easier," a glint of mischief sparkled in his eyes. "For the both of us."

Zoe merely glowered at him as she pushed the door open suddenly wishing the sun was out and the heat was past boiling point. Dracula stepped past the threshold, still sporting that ridiculous smirk as his eyes met hers.

"I'll be seeing you, Zoe," he smiled. "And I look forward…"

She slammed the door in his face before he could finish. Running a hand through her hair, the scientist sighed heavily. Her eyes fell to the crumpled piece of paper that lay abandoned on the floor. She was screwed. Royally. And something needed to be done about it. Hell would freeze over before she'd let him have access to her children. But until she figured something out, she'd have to play along. Whatever it took, she wouldn't let him win. Exhaling, she touched the apex of her stomach. She'd have the last laugh.

[winterisakillerwrites]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Eight

Chapter: 8/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

Previous

CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tom let out an exasperated sigh as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t seem to focus and it was driving him nearly out of his mind with frustration. He’d dropped more things that day than he had for as long as he could remember; books, his phone, his keys, just about anything his fingers touched. He’d gotten lost during conversations; Luke had told him off quite spectacularly when he’d done so during the phone conference that they’d planned for weeks. And, to add insult to injury, he’d had very nearly tripped over Bobby, who’d been demanding a walk since before Tom had been fully conscious; twice. It was utterly ridiculous. But no matter what he did or how hard he’d tried, his mind kept wandering back to his phone call with Rosie the night before.

 It had been wonderful to just be able to talk with her again. To be able to share his thoughts with her and to be able to hear hers in return. To once again have a peek into the world as she saw it. It was something he’d spent so long convinced he’d never have again. Something he’d reluctantly surrendered due to his own massive stupidity and shortsightedness. These last two weeks had honestly been some of the best of his life. Just knowing that she was a part of his world again; that she wanted to be a part of it was so far beyond anything he’d dared to hope for.

 Still the unease he’d felt when she’d causally mentioned her fallout with Jules refused to be shaken. He���d only met the tall redhead a handful of times and in all of those she’d been warm and openly friendly towards him. But that had been before he’d broken her friend’s heart. And knowing just how close the two women were Tom could hardly blame Jules for hating him. He certainly would have. And knowing that because of him, even in such a roundabout way, they’d become estranged made the guilt he still carried that much harsher and harder to bear.

 His kneejerk reaction had been to fix it. To jump right in without pausing to think if he had any right to do so. To do whatever he could to make it right. But the last time he’d gone off halfcocked in such a manner it had blown up quite spectacularly in his face. And, more importantly, he’d hurt Rosie. And badly. He couldn’t do that again. He refused to.

 Tom took a deep breath and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. There was little he could do about what had happened, he knew that. They would fix it on their own and in their own time. His interfering would only serve to make things worse. And Rosie said that they’re okay now, he told himself. Just let them fix it on their own. Let it go, Hiddleston. Just let it go.

 He’d been pacing his living room nearly since he’d walked in the door half an hour previously. Bobby, sensing his master’s nervous energy, had been uncharacteristically whiny and jumpy. After nearly tripping over him, again, Tom finally decided that enough was enough. He knew that if he didn’t do something, and soon, he would surely lose what was left of his mind.

 “Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch the spaniel on his head. Bobby looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side. “I’ve got you all out of sorts haven’t I?” The spaniel barked once in answer and Tom chuckled to himself.

 He stood quickly and headed for the side door where he kept Bobby’s lead. He turned back noting with a hint of amusement that the spaniel had followed him on his quest, and held up the lead. “Walkies?”

 Bobby barked and bounced excitedly which caused Tom to laugh aloud.

 “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

                                                      —

 It had taken nearly half an hour for the pair to head out into the unseasonably chilled April afternoon; Bobby bundled in his quilted vest and Tom in his reliable, and mercifully warm, black wool coat. Door locked firmly behind him, he led Bobby down the front stairs and out the gate heading towards the main road.

 The sidewalks were relatively crowded for so early on a weekday afternoon, but Tom played it little mind. The neighborhood was a relatively quiet one and he was hardly ever bothered walking in and around it. He’d made the decision to take them both on a few warm up laps through the quiet streets of his neighborhood before heading towards the ironed gates of the nearby park. The park was only a five minute walk from the house and had been one of the reasons he’d chosen to live there in the first place. It was large and had a long, winding path that was an excellent jogging site and one he frequented as often as he could.

 An hour later saw Tom, and Bobby, making their second circuit around the leafy paved jogging path in the park. His head was markedly clearer but the heaviness that had come with it was still there. Bobby, for his part, seemed completely content. He’d kept a good pace with his master, stopping only occasionally when a particular tree or object caught his attention. A marked change from his puppyhood days where any and everything was both a potential friend and a dangerous enemy all at once. What a difference a few years made, Tom thought to himself with a breathless laugh.

 Tom began to slow as they approached an empty bench along the path. The lace of his left trainer had loosened significantly during his run and he could feel the shoe slipping with each stride he took. The last thing he wanted was for the damned thing to come off or to trip him up. Because he knew that was when a lone photographer would be certain to show and preserve the moment for posterity. Especially given the way his luck had been running as of late. Luke would just find that fucking hilarious.

 With a shake of his head, Tom propped his foot up on the bench, bending to tighten the loosened laces. His breathing was coming in harsh pants, his chest burning with the effort. God, he really was frighteningly out of shape. He’d cut back a bit on his running during the winter months; he still went as faithfully as he could every morning but not for anywhere near his usual distance, and now he was clearly paying for it. Bobby, who’s lead had been tied to the bench leg as he was oft to go ‘exploring’ if left unattended, bounced around Tom barking every so often at a passing jogger or squirrel, it didn’t much seem to matter which.  

 As he bent to his task, Tom heard rather than saw the women who had knelt beside the now jumping dog, scratching behind his ears and telling him in a soft, sweet voice just how handsome he was. The voice was strangely familiar though he couldn’t seem to place exactly why. Laces finally tied, he turned to face the woman and Bobby. Tom worked to quickly school his features into warm, but neutral politeness. He’d had far too many ‘chance’ encounters with women; mostly fans and, thankfully, mostly harmless, in the last few years to not be at least somewhat on his guard. He startled as a strangely familiar mass of red hair caught his attention.

 Surely not.

 The woman raised her head at Tom’s movement and he watched, torn between amusement and alarm, as Jules’ eyes widened in recognition. Speak of the devil, he thought with a flash of amusement. He watched as they quickly narrowed into green slits before slowly relaxing back into a carefully controlled neutrality. Jules stood staring at him, arms crossed at her chest. “Tom,” she stated, her voice a shade too even. Too controlled.

 “Jules,” he responded, his own voice as even as he could make it. He offered her a friendly smile and then, not quite knowing what else to do, he continued, “And how have you been?” As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. His words sounded flippant and dismissive even to his own ears. God only knew how she would take them. Of all the stupid things he could have possibly said…

 “I honestly don’t have any desire to talk niceties with you,” she snapped back, her eyes narrowing once more at him.

 Tom felt himself flinch. Her dislike of him clearly hadn’t been exaggerated, not that he believed Rosie would have done such a thing. He let out a resigned sigh. Well there went any hope of a polite encounter. He took a deep breath to gather himself and held his hands palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I know you don’t like me,” he started, eyes settled on her face. “And honestly I can’t say that I blame you....”

 Jules scoffed at this, shaking her head as she cut him off. “Damn right, I don’t.” She unfolded her arms, letting them drop to her sides before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and continued to glare. She appeared not to care overmuch that they were in a public setting nor how much her voice carried. His eye darted around the surrounding path but no one at the moment seemed to be paying them any mind. “Do you honestly think that just because you smile and act like a gentleman for the fucking fans and the damned cameras means you can treat people, who for some god forsaken reason love you, like they don’t fucking matter?”

 He blinked at her stunned confusion, irritation bubbling steadily inside of him. “Now wait just a minute…”

 She reeled on him, “No,” she hissed, jabbing a finger aggressively into his chest. “You are a conceited ass! You expect people to fall all over themselves if you flash them a smile. Well believe you me, I’m not buying it.” She paused, chest heaving slightly. After several moments silence she continued. “I don’t have the first idea what she sees in you. She fucking loved you. Loved you and you threw her away like she was nothing! Do you have any idea what that did to her? Do you?”

 Tom stood, motionless as she continued her tirade, each word slamming into him with the force of a blow. He’d wanted to snap back at her how unfair she was being, how she had no idea how badly doing so had hurt him as well, but knew there was nothing he could say in his own defense. She was absolutely right. He had been a complete and utter bastard and nothing he could do or say would change that. But he wanted to. God, how he wanted to.

 “She was a fucking mess for months,” Jules hissed. Tom’s reaction seeming to matter little in her need to lay everything out in the open. “She blamed herself, do you know that? She kept saying that if she had just kept her mouth shut then you wouldn’t have left.” She laughed coldly at that.  “God, do you know how hard it was to sit there and watch that? Jesus. It didn’t make one bit of difference what I said to her. How much I told her that it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t listen!” She paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But then she met Bryan. They weren’t perfect but she seemed to be getting better. With him. He made her smile and she was happy,” her voice softened slightly but quickly turned back into steel as her eyes caught his. “And then you just had to come waltzing back in, fucking with her head. I found her after you left, did you know that? She was devastated and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. Again. She’s my best friend and I had to watch her tear herself apart because you just had to have the last fucking say. You were gone why the fuck did you come back? She was happy.”

 Tom swallowed, his throat felt tight and for a moment he wasn’t sure he could breathe. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the effort. He quietly looked down at his hands before continuing, “I wanted to fix it. I wanted to apologize for what I’d done to her. For how badly I known I’d hurt her. I just thought if I could explain; let her know that it was me; it was always me and never, ever, her, that she could know that none of what happened was her fault. That she could have finally have some form of closure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.” He raised his eyes to hers, hoping she could understand. “I just wanted to make it right.”

 Jules stared at him, her eyes narrowed in unadulterated suspicion. “You’ve done a bang up job of that,” she spat. “Do you know that shortly after your little impromptu therapy session she ended things with Bryan?  He was good for her, he wanted to help her, fuck he encouraged her to talk to you, to get all of this,” she gesticulated wildly, “out so that she could finally let you go. He was there for her, cared for her, and she pushed him away. Because of you.”

 He felt his heart stutter in his chest. Rosie had mentioned in passing that she and Bryan had ended, but hadn’t elaborated on the how or the why. And he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to know. Another wave of guilt washed through him. He hadn’t meant to cause her any more pain or grief and yet that was all he had seemed to do. “I was wrong to do that to her,” Tom whispered, fighting to keep himself focused. “It was stupid and completely selfish of me and I own that without question. And I know there isn’t any way for me to make up for what I’ve done and the hurt I’ve caused her.”

 Tom paused again, gathering himself. “But I need to you understand that I love her. That has not changed. I’ve been an absolute and utter tit about it, but I do love her.” He looked Jules directly in her eyes, hoping she could see that he meant it. Every single word of it. “I don’t know what is happening between us now and I will not speak for her, but no matter what happens I am here and I will not go unless she asks me to. Whatever she wants between us; be it friendship or something more, I will take it and be grateful for it. She’s given me another chance, though god only knows it’s far more than I deserve, and I absolutely refuse to waste it. I’ve already wasted so many.”

 “I wish I could believe that for her sake,” Jules answered, honestly. “But I’ve seen this song and dance before, Tom. And I’ve seen just how it ends.” She paused, shaking her head and laughed humorlessly. “She can’t say no to you and I think you know that. She’ll bend herself over backwards to make you happy and that’s honestly not fair to her.” She laughed again. It resonated with concern and uncertainty. “She’s had a rough few months. Especially with how things ended with Adam. I don’t want her to throw herself into something that could just make matters worse.”

 Tom blinked at Jules in confusion. It took several moments for him to gather himself enough to speak. When he did the name fell from his lips in a near whisper. “Adam?” He lowered himself onto the bench, ignoring Bobby’s incessant barking. He’d never heard Rosie utter that name before but the way Jules spoke of him told Tom just how important he must have been. She never said... He felt an all too familiar sinking sense of dread flood through his gut.

 Jules let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle; her eyes held a look of what he thought was almost pity, but he couldn’t say with any certainty. “They were together nearly two years. Happiest I’ve seen her in the longest time. They’d talked about moving in together and she’d mentioned entertaining the idea of marriage.” She paused again, shrugging. “But he got a job in the states. And with the shop and her life here…Well…He took the promotion and they quietly ended things. She was heartbroken and honestly so was he. It took her a long time to start to bounce back. I don’t want to see her get hurt again. Especially, not by you.”

 Tom opened his mouth to respond then, just as quickly, shut it. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth, vaguely aware of Jules’ stare and Bobby’s confused barking. He didn’t know what to think about anything he’d just heard, let alone what to possibly say in response. In the back of his mind, he’d always known there was a distinct possibility Rosie would find someone else; someone far better for her than he could ever hope to be. At first he had thought it might have been Bryan.

 He’d only seen the man once, in passing, and the little he’d known of him had come from Rosie herself. It had hurt, yes, but not as badly as he had always believed it would. Looking back he wondered if it was because he had sensed Rosie’s own uncertainty. She had said she cared for him but never that she’d loved him. And with that he had, unconsciously at least, known that there was still a chance. A remotely possibility. But Adam…Adam seemed something else entirely. And Tom found that being faced with the reality that she had found someone rather than simply the idea of it, another matter entirely.

 He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to make sense of his thoughts. “I don’t want to see her hurt again either,” he whispered, honestly. “I truly, truly don’t. I understand your concern and I know just how important she is to you. And you are to her.” He paused, looking Jules directly in the eyes. “I know my track record is far, far less than impressive, but I meant what I said. I love her. She means the world to me and I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t.” He closed his eyes and took another short, calming breath, “I don’t know what the future holds or even if there is one for us, but I won’t walk away again. Not unless she tells me to and even then I’m not entirely sure that I could. I love her and right now, just having her as a friend is enough.”

 Jules studied him quizzically, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms once again at her chest. “And when it’s not?” Her words were pointed, direct. Tom felt his heart plummet at them. He hadn’t let himself think anything beyond the fact that Rosie had let him back into her life. And how grateful he had been for it. That had been enough. But now the idea was there, he wasn’t sure he could let it be. Flashing Tom a knowing smile and a quirked eyebrow, Jules dropped to scratch Bobby’s ear once more and walked away.

 With her words echoing through his head, Tom dropped himself silently back onto the bench. He loved Rosie, loved her deeply. That was one thing in which he was completely and utterly sure. She had loved him, at one point, and possibly still did despite everything that had happened. But he couldn’t know for sure. There was a history between them, as messy and convoluted as it was. What was less certain, however, was their future. She wanted his friendship, wanted him in her life. And he was happy with that. Happy because he was very well aware of just how it felt to have lived his life without her. Just how lucky he was that she was giving him another chance when he’d blown so many.

 But would that be enough? Could he really be content with that if, when push came to shove, Rosie decided friendship was all she would ever want from him? That she cared for him but not enough for anything more. And if that were the case, could he stand by and be supportive if, he couldn’t bear to think when, she found someone else? Watch as she gave her heart completely to another man? Built a life with another? Married? Had children?

 The idea filled him with an agonizing dread. He ran shaky hands through his hair and forced himself to take several deep breaths. The honest truth was he wasn’t sure he could handle it. And he didn’t know what that meant for him or for them.

Next

[residesatshamecentral]

Joker Noir: Comic script

Sooo, this ended up bigger than I intended...

PAGE ONE

A LONG PANEL, TAKING UP THE ENTIRE TOP OF THE PAGE

The top of a well-ordered desk. A newspaper takes up the majority of the panel, but there should be space for a few pens, a full coffee mug, and importantly a framed photo of a woman. Her photo could have an affectionate scrawl across it, something like 'Love your smile, X'.

A man's hand holds the newspaper loosely. The main headline is bold and should dominate the image:

FIFTH JOKER MURDER

Text: The Joker had been terrorising my city for a week.

A ROW OF THREE PANELS, ALL THE SAME SIZE AND VISUALLY SIMILAR

FIRST PANEL

Harvey Dent looks down grimly at the paper in front of him. His face dominates the foreground, laving a narrow slice of background to the left of the panel. In that slice of background is a doorway, a bit of wall, and, approaching, the shadow of Pamela Isley.

Text: His murderous campaign against the Batman had left bodies scattered across Gotham. Commissioner Loeb and Judge Snyder were the most recent causalities.

SECOND PANEL

Isley is now standing in the doorway. We see her full-body, while Dent's face still takes up half the foreground. She is little more than a silhouette, with details hidden.

Text: I was surrounded by dangerous people. Isley: Mister Dent.

THIRD PANEL

Dent turns so his face is in profile. She is still poised in the doorway.

Dent: Miss Isley. To be honest, it's not a good time. What can I do for you?

TWO LONG, NARROW PANELS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER FIRST PANEL

Isley approaches the desk. Dent is back to staring grimly at his newspaper. He really does not like Isley, and her being here puts him on guard, but he can't help but be attracted to her.

Isley: Always so stiff, Counsellor. Maybe I just wanted to see you. Dent: Was that a flock of pigs that flew by? Isley: Maybe I just wanted to test the waters. Maybe I wanted to commiserate with you.

SECOND PANEL

Isley seats herself elegantly on the desk, sliding away some papers. Dent looks up at her. Most of her face should be obscured, or cut off by the panel edge.

Isley: Maybe I wanted to warn you. Dent: Warn me?

PAGE 2

A LARGE PANEL, TAKING UP MUCH OF THE PAGE

Isley and Dent are shown from a new angle now. Isley is seated (or lying) elegantly on the top of the desk, looking down at Dent. For the first time, we see her properly, not silhouetted or cut off. We can see all the details of her hair and face and clothing.

Her expression should be telling about her attitude to this situation. Pamela genuinely thinks she's about to do this man a favour – save his life. At the same time, she'll be making him her stooge. And Dent is a very attractive man. A fool from her point of view, but a very handsome and intelligent fool. Her attitude to Dent is very ambiguous. Of course, her main aim right now is to seduce him, so these feelings take back seat.

Text: Pamela Isley. CEO of Isley Health and Beauty. Shady as hell. If it hadn't been for the Joker killings, we might have already started prosecution against her. Isley: The Joker. These murders. He is going to go for you next. He has to, you know. Dent: What do you know about the Joker? Isley: Enough to know I don't want to know more.

A LONG, NARROW PANEL

We see Dent's irritated frown, and a fragment of Isley's face. She is leaning in now.

Text: I had suspected for a while that she had some connections to the underworld. Now she seemed set on confirming it. Dent: Why are you telling me? Isley: In times of trouble... friends are valuable.

A ROW OF FOUR PANELS, ALL VISUALLY SIMILAR FIRST PANEL

Isley and Dent in profile. Isley is poised seductively over him.

Isley: You need a friend.

SECOND PANEL

She kisses him deeply.

THIRD PANEL

She draws away from him. She looks at him with the satisfaction of a fisherman eyeing his latest catch. His expression is somewhat blank.

FOURTH PANEL

He is looking at her with furious rejection. Her expression is stunned. This has never happened before. Not once.

Dent: Get the hell out of my office.

PAGE 3

A LARGE, SQUARISH PANEL

Isley is sliding off the desk, confused and flustered. Dent is standing and turning away from her. He is full of anger, and something like guilt. In the background, the photo of his fiancée is visible.

Isley: Dent. We - Dent: We what, Isley? We could help each other? We could have a great business relationship? We would make a lovely couple?

A VERY TALL, NARROW PANEL

We see only a fragment of Isley's face. Most of her expression is shadowed, but her eyes are large, and visible to us.

Isley: Yes. Dent: Ha.

FOUR PANELS IN A ROW PANEL ONE

Den'ts desk is in the foreground. Beyond it, we see Isley from the back. She has clasped her hands behind her back and is in the act of slipping a ring off her finger. She has turned her head so we see it in profile, and is eyeing the full mug on Dent's desk. She has composed herself now. Dent still has his back to her as he talks.

Dent: You're crooked as hell, and the whole world knows it.

PANEL TWO

Close on Isley's hands. She is opening the ring with a fingernail. The coffee cup is big, prominent in the foreground.

Dent: So you think the Joker's got me in his sights? People have wanted me dead since I took this job.

PANEL THREE

Isley slips a white capsule out of the ring.

Dent: I don't need your help. And I don't want you.

PANEL FOUR

Isley drops the capsule into the coffee mug. It hisses softly.

Dent: A month from now, I'll be married. To the love of my life. Isley: Oh?

PAGE 4

THREE SMALL PANELS IN THE TOP LEFT HAND CORNER

Isley's lips as she speaks.

Isley: A month from now... you'll be a married man.

The capsule, hissing and slowly dissolving in a spiral of white residue in the circle of the coffee mug.

Pamela's eye, slightly obscured behind a stray lock of hair.

THE NEXT PANEL SHOULD BE ALMOST A FULL PAGE IMAGE

Isley strides towards us, smoothing her hair with one hand. There are a lot of conflicting feelings in her now: anger, regret, pity, satisfaction, irony, vindictiveness, sadness. But they are all held in control.

Behind her, Dent watches her leave. He is tense and proud and, let’s be honest, pretty sexually frustrated, but proud of himself for staying loyal. Behind him is the desk and the window with it's Venetian blinds. On it, prominent, the picture of his fiancée, and the now-poisoned coffee mug.

The whole image should be an exercise in perspective. Pamela Isley is large in the foreground, behind her is Dent, smaller. Behind him, the desk. The coffee mug should be the 'focal point' of the lines of perspective, the point the lines are leading the eye towards.

Isley: I'll let you think that, Harvey.

PAGE FIVE

A LARGE, SQUARISH PANEL

The scarred side of Dent's face, obscured and broken up by the shadows of a set of Venetian blinds. He is distant, still lost in his story. His eye stares out of the shadows, thoughtful.

Spade [off panel]: Are you saying she knew?

A MUCH LARGER PANEL

Dent is standing with his back to us, before a window in an office. It is visibly not the same office as we have seen, but there are similarities. The blinds throw barred shadows over him. Behind him, Spade sits in the visitor's chair at his desk. He is in profile to us. His expression is thoughtful.

Dent: She knew something. She knew I wouldn't be married. Spade: She could have just meant she was going to have you.

A LONG PANEL, TAKING UP THE LOWER PAGE

We see Dent from the front now, and from a low angle, the perspective you would get through the window. We see now how much older and harder he is, we have a good view of his face. He is holding his coin. He is very physically intimidating, in a way he haven't seen before. Behind him, Spade is watching from the desk. The room behind them is half torn up, half immaculate. Evidence of Dent's madness.

Dent: Yes. And she could have known every stage of the Joker's plan. What he was going to do, to my fiancée, to me. The kidnapping. The bomb. My face. She could have known.

A ROW OF THREE PANELS

PANEL ONE

We are back in the past. Dent is raising his coffee mug to his lips as the phone rings.

Text: I can't know what she was thinking. But I need to.

PANEL TWO

Dent has the phone pressed to his ear. He looks disturbed. He has put the mug down on the desk, but not let go of the handle.

Dent: Not another killing already? Damn him... I'll be right there...

Text: All I know for certain, Spade, is that she knew there was a disaster in my future. And she was right.

PANEL THREE

The abandoned coffee mug takes up much of the foreground. There is still a swirling white residue on the surface. In the background, Dent is pulling on his coat. His hat is waiting on a hook.

Text: I need to know the truth.

PANEL FOUR

Dent has put on his hat and is exiting the room. The mug sits in the foreground, residue still swirling, a murder plot that never came to pass.

@me-fish

[apathycares]

Ohh idk if reqs were open but may i have an aizawa + his fem s/o dealing with their first general pregnancy? ;w; ignore this if reqs arent open djkdkd thank u

First Pregnancy

Thank you for your request, and for your patience!

※ Warnings: fluffy mess

※ Pairings: Aizawa x Reader

As soon as you found out you were expecting, you laughed hysterically, thinking back to just last night when you asked Aizawa if he’d ever want kids and after a long talk, you both agreed to hold it off until you were ready.

It was as if your intuition was mocking you.

You wipe the tears off your face and wonder for a moment if this was the infamous pregnancy hormones doing, before smiling fondly - you were pregnant. You were actually carrying a life within you.

A sharp knock on the door jolts you out of Fantasyland, causing you to drop the pregnancy test in the sink.

“Hey, you all right in there?”

“Yeah! What’s up?” You causally reply, cursing silently as you gather any incriminating evidence of what you just did.

“What’s up?” Aizawa echoes with a chuckle. “What’re you doing in there? It’s been thirty minutes.”

“Nothing! I’m just, uh, fixing the toilet! Yeah.” You roll your eyes. That totally makes sense.

“I’m coming in.”

Oh fuck no.

Just as the doorknob rattles, you gather the entire kit and used tests, chuck them into the toilet, and shove them deeper in with the back of a plunger. It refuses to disappear into the fucking sewers like it should so you throw your leg over the nearby sink to get some leverage and push using your entire weight until -

The water refluxes.

When Aizawa walks in, he doesn’t expect to see you half wet, plunger under your armpit, leg up the sink and hunched over the toilet darkly. He blinks comically as you get back on your feet and drop the plunger, eyes glaring at a crumpled little box floating on the water, when he notices a thermometer stick floating towards him.

“Hey,” Aizawa glances back at you before he could pick it up. “I’m pregnant. Congrats. It’s an eraser.”

You pat his cheek as you step past his shocked figure.

Aizawa was a worrywart. You’ve always known that, and a part of you really liked it when he’d fuss over you all the time in the past. Now that you were having a baby, well, not so much.

You make a passing comment about a produce when you’re out shopping? You notice it magically appear when you’re checking out. You think the fake plants by the doorway smell like shit all of a sudden? They’re gone before the next time you pass by. You prefer him with his stubble? He throws his razors out the window.

He became a little impulsive and irrational with this new shift, which surprised you. Aizawa would overthink everything he didn’t deem normal before jumping to conclusions when he was met with resistance. It was much easier to poke some fun at him all of a sudden and his little angry pouts were way too adorable to pass up.

You’re seemingly calm about your pregnancy, taking all the changes in your body with stride. You didn’t really get sick and throw up as much, but when you did, Aizawa tended to pop up behind you out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of you.

In response to that, you decided to go chill in the bathroom when you barely start to feel nauseous in order to lock the door, taking a few books or magazines each time. You could deal better with him fiddling with the handle as you went about your business just fine.

Well, in response to your solution, Aizawa removed all the doors in the house.

You’d fight a little more than you usually would.

You’d eat a ton, feel like shit, eat a ton more, and force him to eat with you. The thing is, you guys didn’t gain weight together at first since he was still an active hero and teacher and burn the calories that way, which upsets you.

Finally, after you hit your third trimester, you’d notice how his face got a little rounder. You asked him to start shaving again so it could show more and make you feel better. Aizawa pouts. You push him down on the couch and have your way with him.

Yeah. Your inhibitions were non-existent. And he loved it. You’d be straight with him instead of leaving him guessing like he usually would. Aizawa appreciated people who could rip bandages and point out elephants in the room without a hiccup of hesitation.

Whenever you two got home and he decided to pour himself a drink, you’d eye him spitefully. Aizawa would stare at you as he took a sip, wondering if you were going to say something about it, when you pull out a carton of chocolate milk, pour yourself a glass and sit across from him, slurping loudly with your nose in the air. Aizawa sighs at your childish behavior before he dumps his drink in the sink and pours himself a glass of chocolate milk as well. You beam and reach out to kiss him.

Aizawa wouldn’t do anything out of the ordinary in his opinion, but you’d see how he’d try to subtly try to hide how he really felt about it.

Aizawa makes time for doctor appointments and birthing classes despite his busy life, ending up with you crying about how you didn’t deserve him, causing him to admit he never deserved you at all to begin with, and you’d both wallow in your self loathing together. It was beautiful.

When you get to find out the gender of your baby, Aizawa doesn’t seem to care at first, arguing a healthy baby was all he could ever hope for. But when he sees his child on the screen during the ultrasound, he doesn’t notice he’d shed a few tears until your warm hand cupped his cheek and wiped them away. When he looks down at you with a gentle smile, you feel your eyes burn with tears too.

The closer you were to your due date, the more open he’d become. He’d admit he was worried about neglecting you when the baby would be born and take up both your lives, and before you can reassure him that that was fine, he aggressively swore he’d always keep you first.

You cry together again.

What did you think about that? Emotional? Haphazard? Needs a little more?

Let me know what you think.

I don’t really like how this came out so look out for a revision of this in the future(?)

※  Tip jar | BNHA Masterlist

[aggresivelyfriendly]

A Premonition of Love-Final Chapter

Hey Babies! I hope you are all getting on with real life in this fallow Harry season. I cannot wait for the harvest. (Please rescue us with new music Styles, Sharpish) Hopefully this Rom Com Ending will help feed any content needs that are plaguing you! Here she is-the final chapter of A Premonition Of Love! 

Thank you @emulateharry and my other halves- thirds- @dirtystyles and @bleedinglove4h! Now-onto my Gryles Exchange!

Chapter 11-Erubisu

“Harry!" She'd been being sweet and softly blowing in his ear. Then she had tickled it, then Licked it. Nothing seems to be rousing him. He was a very heavy sleeper and could fall asleep anywhere if left unattended for any length of time, but this was ridiculous. She was beginning to think she had  killed him last night.

What a way to go. She had at least exhausted him. Her volume was bothering her own ears, and not a stir.

Ada had just been so jubilant when they made it back to the room last night. The last several weeks probably could have not gone better. After her freak out and their private painting party, they had hit their stride. Harry had been consistently amazing on camera, and at home, with the occasional grand slam to bout.

Clearly last night helped both of their batting averages.

The studio was thrilled with the dailies and so was Ada. It was cute and timely and classic and beautiful, her cinematographer captured Japan and her vision and Harry, all to their best advantage. They had submitted a request for just a little extra time for the Elvis scene. And she thought they made get it.

Even with all of the progress they had made, they'd still need another couple days in the schedule to get the love me tender scene, but Ada had been sneaky and was shooting the film like it was a sure thing.

After she had her encouraging call with her studio handler she'd basically flown to the vans that took everybody back to the hotel, and she nearly sat on Harry's shoulder to chirp out her lark's song. But then she remembered that they were trying to be subtle.

She sucked at subtle, it wasn't her style, but she liked privacy, and craved respect. She was working on that with her therapist, as it went to crazy lengths. Nevertheless, it meant they were clandestine lovers, which was lovely and exciting, if limiting.her boyfriend, as he had self identified, shocking the hell out of her the other day, was right there and she couldn't share her hope.

It would wait, she caught his eye and his eyes lightened in that way they did when they made eye contact and then further when he read her open face like a book.

Harry knew she was excited, he could tell. It was lovely all over her warm face, but they had lots of company. Ada wasn't ready to share with everybody that they may have a few extra days. Firstly, because she didn't know for sure and discretion, as she had told Harry the other day, was the better part of valor, and secondly, she wasn't going to ask everybody. They didn't need them, and she would never get the days with the full budget. Concessions. They had to be made.

So, he'd have to wait to find out if they gave her all the time. She looked hopeful enough.  Just not here.

But her caught her in the bathroom, there was only the one stall with the very high tech toilet, and as she came out, he gently gripped her waist and causally hoisted her back in. She loved when he handled her with ease, but she didn't like being handled. Or so she thought until he was Dali and she was Kahlo. She'd loved how he handled her emotional state and then handled her.

"What's up Harry?" She asked, with her hands on his forearms then gripping his elbows.

"You tell me. You are lit up like the Tokyo tower! Why didn't we film there by the way?"

"Permits, expense!" She shrugged. She'd tried, they'd shoot on the lawn if the could manage it. "Why do movies ever diverge from "the vision." She didn't grump More, but maybe harry didn't know that. She bet Nolan got his vision. With his track record and noms, and following and penis. Speaking of, she was ready to say fuck valor and his buddy discretion. What height was the sink.

"Nope, no distracting me!" He said when she tried to kiss him. "What's the news?" His leaf green eyes, the color of wasabi today, flicked back and forth over her ink eyes. He was written there. So was her excitement.

"I want to tell you when we have something to celebrate." She smiled and widened her large eyes.

"Does it have to do with the film? Might be nice to celebrate with the crew."

He was holding her hands, clutching them the way he did while she rode him. Bad thoughts, Harry. "You're distracting me now." His tongue touched the side of his mouth. "On purpose. And they can't all know, some won't be able to stay." Ada said like he already knew what she was talking about. "To stay...." he paused for her to fill him in. "To stay on the film for our Elvis scene." She squeezed his hand and bounced onto her tippy toes then heels. "I have to cut costs. But I think we might get the days!" "They said that?" His eyes were so big, like saucers and she wanted a big drink of their shared cup of joy. "Well, not yet. But they seemed enthused about the idea and one of them winked at me!" Ada sounded like that made her too sure. He bit his lip. "Who winked at you?

"Stu."

She put her head in his notch, right beneath his chin. Her notch. She slept there and smelled it when she woke up. "Let's not get our hopes too far up, ‘k, Smokes? Maybe low flying hopes?" "Ok!" she'd agreed but all of her was an exclamation mark.

Ada stayed entusiastic all night. She drank too much, a rarity for her, was chatty as all get out, and he had to drag her off the balcony naked. She was still buoyant this morning when she woke up, surprisingly not too fuzzy headed to smell his notch. Her headache, cowed by Harry's pills and water flush before bed, started to come back as she worked to wake him up. "Ighh!" Was the first "word" out of his mouth. "Smoke, I can tell it's very early by the light. The sun's not even up in the land of the rising sun! No human is meant to be awake right now, especially not one who was as excited," tongue between teeth. "As you last night."

He rolled over and she held him with her thighs. "That was bad, even for you, Velvet Elvis." "That was bad too." He rolled over and cracked an eye. "I veto that nickname. Seriously, how are you so bright and bonnie at such an early hour. You hit it harder than me." "Natural high!" She hopped off him taking his hand with her. "I've got a feeling, a good one." She kept on singing. He didn't join, was biting his lip in an unsexy way. "If you tell me you don't know that song, that it was before your time, I'll scream." "Course I know that song," he scoffed. "Yeah, your taste does run late middle age." He grr'ed, that face he made where he furrowed his brow cuz he was thinking hard, or hard thoughts. Then he shook it off. Damn she thought he'd chase her to the shower. "What's up, Harry?" "Nothing, just like to see you smiling." He then gave her a narrow eyed smirk and followed her to the bathroom, and grinned  before he had to grit his teeth to end their coupling. But something was up, when they had a minute on set. She caught him staring pensively at her. More that once. "Hey Elvis!" He winced a little, she noticed. "You look upset." She poked the place his dimple should be and cocked her head to the side. "M'fine!" He cupped her elbow after a quick check of the clear coast. "Just, I don't....." he shook his head. "Got water in my nose when I was on my knees this morning." He flashed her his eyebrows. She allowed the distraction then. He kept it up, the not telling her, for days. She didn't think whatever he was not sharing was a secret, nothing harmful or tangible. That the way she felt at least, but why wasn't he sharing his thoughts? He was a brilliant boy, she liked when he shared his dreamy cerebral locomotive from one place to another.

She was sitting in her makeshift office trying to puzzle him out when her phone rang.

LA! Her news!

They were ready, all caught up with open endings for her choose your own adventure, all they needed was a yes! Harry knew the minute she came down her steps with heavy footfalls that his worries were true. He’d shared the hopes with Jeff right away, when they'd had the idea. Jeff had brightened and he could see it. Then he got that look, the one Harry hated, when he was gonna tell him no, or bad news. "Hersch." Oh, breaking it to him gently then. “I can almost guarantee they aren’t gonna give her an extra week for that scene, for any scene. Likely not even three days. Try to help her not get her hopes up too high.”

And he had, he had wanted to at least. He'd changed the subject when he couldn't but also tried to talk to her. But she was so young and free since she got the idea in her head and nourished herself on the possibility. Harry forced himself to talk sense to joy, had reminded her they were in the industry, and it was a harsh business, and even said, “don’t get excited til they tell you ‘yes.’” They had definitely told her no. And she was definitely in the angry portion of her response. She was coming onto set like an angry tsunami. He saw the PA in front of her scramble. Should he intercept her? Would it even help?

Instead he watched her, she had a look of absolute childlike disappointment, like when his dad would cancel visitation for a business event. Harry knew that look. He wanted to rescue her, but she wasn't a damsel in distress. What could he do? And then he saw her roll her shoulders, up, back, and down. Her face blanked and she nicely called for Kiko. 'Matcha' he read on her lips, she conferred with her AD and then sat down and got to business. He had never been so proud. Or so sad. She'd had to swallow disappointment, maybe even in public, more times than he could imagine if she did it so well and so quickly. And then she filmed the open ended scene. The one she'd written to make Harry Presley as she had recently called him, available. It worked for both narratives. She hadn't given up.

Neither would he. She held it together all through the day, and everybody seemed to sense her need, and they rose to their leader. Ada was a fantastic leader in triumph, and in defeat, he surmised. She'd make a wonderful wife in those for better and for worse moments. For worse, he felt when she made it back to their hotel room. He'd ordered mac n cheese, hot chamomile, and tacos, those he'd had to get from a carrier. She'd bitched about them not being available lightheartedly recently. How maybe it was all she missed of LA, tacos. Ada hadn't said much when she'd come in, just looked at him and shrugged. "Hungry?" "No, but I want to eat every bit of mac n cheese in the world."

She'd already found that plate, was chewing and opening the wine he'd had brought over. She drank from the bottle and smiled at the flavor then at the label. It was as fleeting as a hummingbird's flap, but he loved that he had earned that lip lift with his choice. Was it better to get her to talk now? Or later after they had decompressed? Now would get it out of the way then she could ignore it until tomorrow. Or let it roll off her back, get two glasses and comfort food down her neck, then ask for the detail he needed. When the tacos arrived, she cried. They were a little weird, it was rice instead of corn in the tortilla, but she couldn't believe he had found them. Then she launched into a story about her and Alysia, her best college girlfriend, going from Porto's to Tito's when they broke up with each of their first loves. "I’ve never been to Tito's." "You've been to Porto's right? Or we will have to go there as soon as you visit me in LA." "You asking me on a date?" he asked with a smirk and kept rubbing her shoulders. "I'm asking you to move in if you are gonna casa surreal, feed, water, and rub me when I'm not ok." She took her last bite and fell back onto his lap. Ada looked sideways. He gave her his attention, but didn't' stare her down, he could tell she had something to say. "If I only get you out of this movie..." her eyes glossed. "Do you, do you know what I mean?"

Then her eyes turned red while she suppressed the waterworks. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's enough, you, for me too." He kissed her forehead. That night, she lavished him with oral affection and passed out after her own favor. But Harry couldn't sleep. She'd told him they were liking the dailies but the climate wasn't right for all the nostalgia she was feeling and his fan base was too young to know Elvis, though she argued they were wrong, pointing to Japan, and other bands cross generational appeal, rockabilly and car culture. They were impressed with the accelerated schedule, but wouldn't grant them the days. She'd said it matter of factly. Her tears were dried up through her tidal will, but she was sad. She ate the tacos, then a bit more mac n cheese, and made him promise to wake her up early enough to work out together. He'd called Masa, set up an early sweat sesh-- start the day with no guilt and with tension released. As the hours waned, he'd played with some lyrics, simple and heart felt, guitar on his lap in the living area. Then he had an idea. He'd have to talk to Jeff. Harry knew Ada was special, the first time he met her-- scratch that! The first time he saw ‘Wildflower’ but watching her champion and carry her hope had inspired him that day.

And it kept on inspiring him. It inspired the whole crew. And they did it, they finished, not early enough to squeeze in the scene. But they finished both story trajectories, so that if the producers were touched, they could do it and it would be a narrative match.

She'd gathered all her bravery today and asked for the time again. She had good reason too. A streamlined crew, shooting schedule, willing crew and hopeful cast.

He knew by Ada’s brave face they’d said no. He had some loving to do for the next few hours before the wrap party. For her, and her broken heart. And for him and his dashed hopes. He wanted the scene too, badly. “You ok?” He didn’t touch her, the crew eyed him funny and he knew they knew, or at least suspected. But Ada would blow a gasket. He wanted to hug her, but that would explode their cover. “Yeah.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I just wish I wasn’t surprised every time, ya know? When somebody says no.” Somebody like Garner to her music, or the producers to her vision.

“I think that just means you remain hopeful,” he shrugged. He’d prefer that to the alternative, her artist streak of optimism mixed with her day to day realism was a sight to behold. He wanted her to remain surprise-able. He was gonna feed it, water it, grow it. He saw Jeff nod at him from where he stood off set and Harry hid his grin. Ok. Plant food for his wildflower. “Let’s finish this ending, yeah?” he squeezed her shoulder. “Then let’s go celebrate our work, cuz  it was stellar and swift, and then go home and cuddle until you feel better.” “I don’t WANT to CUDDLE.” She eyed him. “We can do that too, and Bob Ross all weekend. Let’s go have Akio meet Henry at the airport and they can get hitched by the pilot!” “The other ending is better, Akio should let Henry fly to Paris, and he should run back, like a reverse Rachel and Ross. Henry has making up to do. A public statement of love, a song.”

She knew she was pouting, and was letting her walls down enough so if any one was watching they’d see it. That was growth, or she was feeling loved and soft for her set family she couldn't help it. The vulnerability made him proud too. Harry knew for a fact they felt the same. Ada had maybe done a little too much celebrating by the time they got to the “wrap party.” Or commiserating, Harry wasn’t precisely sure which. She’d barely mentioned it, until she made a second drink sans mixer and sighed, “Oh well!” She was hanging on him a little, arm through his, and he was trying to pass it off as being gentlemanly and hoped no one noticed, until she said, loudly “What’s the stage for, Styles?”

He looked at her and smiled and shrugged. He watched her eyes haze over a bit.

“Are you....are you gonna sing for me?” None of her American reserve on show.

She was fully holding his hands now. And people, not hiding behind the cameras she hadn’t noticed, were smirking. “Yeah,” he chucked her chin. “Sorta, and that’s not all.” He made eye contact with Jeff and his manager nodded then gave a signal and everybody popped out of the woodwork ready to go. Ada looked around,  in bafflement, then disbelief, then rapture. “We’re gonna get our Elvis?” She had crocodile tears, by the size of them, though the emotion was real. “We,” he motioned to everyone “Are gonna get our Elvis. They all agreed to work for free for a couple hours,” an editor cleared their throat, “days.” he conceded. “Oh my god! You guys!” Major, happy tears slid down her cheeks and into her dimples. He couldn't help but hug her.

Revelations be damned! Everybody was gonna know in an hour or so anyway. Harry went to change and Jeff got Ada situated. Gave her a matcha and a wine, to ensure she had her choice. It was meant to be a party after all, a wrapping party as they finished the film with a figurative bow. Harry came out, in his Elvis finery, from the earlier scene, took a deep breath, and made sure his eye line for the camera was on Akio, for the shot he had spent a long week organizing, but he really only had eyes for Ada. “Love me tender, love me sweet

Never let me go.

You have made my life complete

And I love you so

Love me tender, love me true

All my dreams fulfill

For my darling I love you”

He sounded good, he’d been practicing. Ada knew, she knew he was everything people thought he could be, more. It was why she had taken the movie. When the movie request had come across her desk, she’d immediately done her research, it was obvious, his charisma. So she’d slipped her way into Harry and Megan’s real reception, and she had listened. She and Megan were old friends. And then she knew.

She’d said yes. To the movie. Ada never felt surer of a decision than that moment. Harry had made her doubt it, until Nirvana.

But she felt even surer now.  She'd say yes to anything he ever asked her again, maybe. The boy was moved by love. The wedding the first time, and for her, here in this moment. The whole crew, he’d convinced them all, to give her her vision. She had to stop crying. Unlikely, until he stopped singing.

And I always will

Love me tender, love me long

Take me to your heart

For it's there that I belong

And will never part

Love me tender, love me true

All my dreams fulfill

For my darling I love you

And I always will

Love me tender, love me dear

Tell me you are mine

I'll be yours through all the years

'Til the end of time

Love me tender, love me true

All my dreams fulfill

For my darling I love you

And I always will!

The song had the crew swaying, in the moment. And when Harry kept going, when he said his sorrys, Henry begged Akio. Akio who simply hugged him, forgave him, ran away with his Prince and there wasn’t a dry eye among them. Ada was floored and vindicated. The studio would be amazed. She had no doubt. “Cut!” Ada hiccuped. “Than--!” “Actually, Smokes, there’s a little more, if you don’t mind.” “What?” Ada sat back down in her astonishment, like his sentence was weights in her pocket. Harry couldn’t stop his explosive laugh. He choked up on the third word, but Ada was standing with her hands on her heart by the first bar. She cupped her face when he started singing.

He’d refused to sing it in the movie.

Or for Karoake.

Anywhere.

But, he was singing it for her, only to her, though others could hear it. “Wise men say....only fools rush in, But I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

She was on stage with him before the song was over, he barely uttered the last syllable before she held his chin and kissed him tender and true. The crew clapped when he cued the song to play again while they kissed, though they couldn’t hear him sing it into her ear between nuzzles. He sang “Love Me Tender” at the premiere, and the Golden Globes.

But he only sang “Can’t Help Falling in Love” into her fragrant neck ever again.

[winterisakiller]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Eight

Chapter: 8/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: T (for now)

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username winterisakiller (sparkinside)

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER EIGHT  

Tom let out an exasperated sigh as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t seem to focus and it was driving him nearly out of his mind with frustration. He’d dropped more things that day than he had for as long as he could remember; books, his phone, his keys, just about anything his fingers touched. He’d gotten lost during conversations; Luke had told him off quite spectacularly when he’d done so during the phone conference that they’d planned for weeks. And, to add insult to injury, he’d had very nearly tripped over Bobby, who’d been demanding a walk since before Tom had been fully conscious; twice. It was utterly ridiculous. But no matter what he did or how hard he’d tried, his mind kept wandering back to his phone call with Rosie the night before.

It had been wonderful to just be able to talk with her again. To be able to share his thoughts with her and to be able to hear hers in return. To once again have a peek into the world as she saw it. It was something he’d spent so long convinced he’d never have again. Something he’d reluctantly surrendered due to his own massive stupidity and shortsightedness. These last two weeks had honestly been some of the best of his life. Just knowing that she was a part of his world again; that she wanted to be a part of it was so far beyond anything he’d dared to hope for. 

Still the unease he’d felt when she’d causally mentioned her fallout with Jules refused to be shaken. He’d only met the tall redhead a handful of times and in all of those she’d been warm and openly friendly towards him. But that had been before he’d broken her friend’s heart. And knowing just how close the two women were Tom could hardly blame Jules for hating him. He certainly would have. And knowing that because of him, even in such a roundabout way, they’d become estranged made the guilt he still carried that much harsher and harder to bear. 

His kneejerk reaction had been to fix it. To jump right in without pausing to think if he had any right to do so. To do whatever he could to make it right. But the last time he’d gone off halfcocked in such a manner it had blown up quite spectacularly in his face. And, more importantly, he’d hurt Rosie. And badly. He couldn’t do that again. He refused to. 

Tom took a deep breath and ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. There was little he could do about what had happened, he knew that. They would fix it on their own and in their own time. His interfering would only serve to make things worse. And Rosie said that they’re okay now, he told himself. Just let them fix it on their own. Let it go, Hiddleston. Just let it go. 

He’d been pacing his living room nearly since he’d walked in the door half an hour previously. Bobby, sensing his master’s nervous energy, had been uncharacteristically whiny and jumpy. After nearly tripping over him, again, Tom finally decided that enough was enough. He knew that if he didn’t do something, and soon, he would surely lose what was left of his mind. 

“Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch the spaniel on his head. Bobby looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side. “I’ve got you all out of sorts haven’t I?” The spaniel barked once in answer and Tom chuckled to himself. 

He stood quickly and headed for the side door where he kept Bobby’s lead. He turned back noting with a hint of amusement that the spaniel had followed him on his quest, and held up the lead. “Walkies?” 

Bobby barked and bounced excitedly which caused Tom to laugh aloud.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

                                                      —

It had taken nearly half an hour for the pair to head out into the unseasonably chilled April afternoon; Bobby bundled in his quilted vest and Tom in his reliable, and mercifully warm, black wool coat. Door locked firmly behind him, he led Bobby down the front stairs and out the gate heading towards the main road. 

The sidewalks were relatively crowded for so early on a weekday afternoon, but Tom played it little mind. The neighborhood was a relatively quiet one and he was hardly ever bothered walking in and around it. He’d made the decision to take them both on a few warm up laps through the quiet streets of his neighborhood before heading towards the ironed gates of the nearby park. The park was only a five minute walk from the house and had been one of the reasons he’d chosen to live there in the first place. It was large and had a long, winding path that was an excellent jogging site and one he frequented as often as he could. 

An hour later saw Tom, and Bobby, making their second circuit around the leafy paved jogging path in the park. His head was markedly clearer but the heaviness that had come with it was still there. Bobby, for his part, seemed completely content. He’d kept a good pace with his master, stopping only occasionally when a particular tree or object caught his attention. A marked change from his puppyhood days where any and everything was both a potential friend and a dangerous enemy all at once. What a difference a few years made, Tom thought to himself with a breathless laugh. 

Tom began to slow as they approached an empty bench along the path. The lace of his left trainer had loosened significantly during his run and he could feel the shoe slipping with each stride he took. The last thing he wanted was for the damned thing to come off or to trip him up. Because he knew that was when a lone photographer would be certain to show and preserve the moment for posterity. Especially given the way his luck had been running as of late. Luke would just find that fucking hilarious. 

With a shake of his head, Tom propped his foot up on the bench, bending to tighten the loosened laces. His breathing was coming in harsh pants, his chest burning with the effort. God, he really was frighteningly out of shape. He’d cut back a bit on his running during the winter months; he still went as faithfully as he could every morning but not for anywhere near his usual distance, and now he was clearly paying for it. Bobby, who’s lead had been tied to the bench leg as he was oft to go ‘exploring’ if left unattended, bounced around Tom barking every so often at a passing jogger or squirrel, it didn’t much seem to matter which.   

As he bent to his task, Tom heard rather than saw the women who had knelt beside the now jumping dog, scratching behind his ears and telling him in a soft, sweet voice just how handsome he was. The voice was strangely familiar though he couldn’t seem to place exactly why. Laces finally tied, he turned to face the woman and Bobby. Tom worked to quickly school his features into warm, but neutral politeness. He’d had far too many ‘chance’ encounters with women; mostly fans and, thankfully, mostly harmless, in the last few years to not be at least somewhat on his guard. He startled as a strangely familiar mass of red hair caught his attention. 

Surely not. 

The woman raised her head at Tom’s movement and he watched, torn between amusement and alarm, as Jules’ eyes widened in recognition. Speak of the devil, he thought with a flash of amusement. He watched as they quickly narrowed into green slits before slowly relaxing back into a carefully controlled neutrality. Jules stood staring at him, arms crossed at her chest. “Tom,” she stated, her voice a shade too even. Too controlled. 

“Jules,” he responded, his own voice as even as he could make it. He offered her a friendly smile and then, not quite knowing what else to do, he continued, “And how have you been?” As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. His words sounded flippant and dismissive even to his own ears. God only knew how she would take them. Of all the stupid things he could have possibly said… 

“I honestly don’t have any desire to talk niceties with you,” she snapped back, her eyes narrowing once more at him. 

Tom felt himself flinch. Her dislike of him clearly hadn’t been exaggerated, not that he believed Rosie would have done such a thing. He let out a resigned sigh. Well there went any hope of a polite encounter. He took a deep breath to gather himself and held his hands palms up in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I know you don’t like me,” he started, eyes settled on her face. “And honestly I can’t say that I blame you....” 

Jules scoffed at this, shaking her head as she cut him off. “Damn right, I don’t.” She unfolded her arms, letting them drop to her sides before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and continued to glare. She appeared not to care overmuch that they were in a public setting nor how much her voice carried. His eye darted around the surrounding path but no one at the moment seemed to be paying them any mind. “Do you honestly think that just because you smile and act like a gentleman for the fucking fans and the damned cameras means you can treat people, who for some god forsaken reason love you, like they don’t fucking matter?” 

He blinked at her stunned confusion, irritation bubbling steadily inside of him. “Now wait just a minute…” 

She reeled on him, “No,” she hissed, jabbing a finger aggressively into his chest. “You are a conceited ass! You expect people to fall all over themselves if you flash them a smile. Well believe you me, I’m not buying it.” She paused, chest heaving slightly. After several moments silence she continued. “I don’t have the first idea what she sees in you. She fucking loved you. Loved you and you threw her away like she was nothing! Do you have any idea what that did to her? Do you?” 

Tom stood, motionless as she continued her tirade, each word slamming into him with the force of a blow. He’d wanted to snap back at her how unfair she was being, how she had no idea how badly doing so had hurt him as well, but knew there was nothing he could say in his own defense. She was absolutely right. He had been a complete and utter bastard and nothing he could do or say would change that. But he wanted to. God, how he wanted to. 

“She was a fucking mess for months,” Jules hissed. Tom’s reaction seeming to matter little in her need to lay everything out in the open. “She blamed herself, do you know that? She kept saying that if she had just kept her mouth shut then you wouldn’t have left.” She laughed coldly at that.  “God, do you know how hard it was to sit there and watch that? Jesus. It didn’t make one bit of difference what I said to her. How much I told her that it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t listen!” She paused again, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But then she met Bryan. They weren’t perfect but she seemed to be getting better. With him. He made her smile and she was happy,” her voice softened slightly but quickly turned back into steel as her eyes caught his. “And then you just had to come waltzing back in, fucking with her head. I found her after you left, did you know that? She was devastated and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. Again. She’s my best friend and I had to watch her tear herself apart because you just had to have the last fucking say. You were gone why the fuck did you come back? She was happy.” 

Tom swallowed, his throat felt tight and for a moment he wasn’t sure he could breathe. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the effort. He quietly looked down at his hands before continuing, “I wanted to fix it. I wanted to apologize for what I’d done to her. For how badly I known I’d hurt her. I just thought if I could explain; let her know that it was me; it was always me and never, ever, her, that she could know that none of what happened was her fault. That she could have finally have some form of closure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.” He raised his eyes to hers, hoping she could understand. “I just wanted to make it right.” 

Jules stared at him, her eyes narrowed in unadulterated suspicion. “You’ve done a bang up job of that,” she spat. “Do you know that shortly after your little impromptu therapy session she ended things with Bryan?  He was good for her, he wanted to help her, fuck he encouraged her to talk to you, to get all of this,” she gesticulated wildly, “out so that she could finally let you go. He was there for her, cared for her, and she pushed him away. Because of you.” 

He felt his heart stutter in his chest. Rosie had mentioned in passing that she and Bryan had ended, but hadn’t elaborated on the how or the why. And he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to know. Another wave of guilt washed through him. He hadn’t meant to cause her any more pain or grief and yet that was all he had seemed to do. “I was wrong to do that to her,” Tom whispered, fighting to keep himself focused. “It was stupid and completely selfish of me and I own that without question. And I know there isn’t any way for me to make up for what I’ve done and the hurt I’ve caused her.” 

Tom paused again, gathering himself. “But I need to you understand that I love her. That has not changed. I’ve been an absolute and utter tit about it, but I do love her.” He looked Jules directly in her eyes, hoping she could see that he meant it. Every single word of it. “I don’t know what is happening between us now and I will not speak for her, but no matter what happens I am here and I will not go unless she asks me to. Whatever she wants between us; be it friendship or something more, I will take it and be grateful for it. She’s given me another chance, though god only knows it’s far more than I deserve, and I absolutely refuse to waste it. I’ve already wasted so many.” 

“I wish I could believe that for her sake,” Jules answered, honestly. “But I’ve seen this song and dance before, Tom. And I’ve seen just how it ends.” She paused, shaking her head and laughed humorlessly. “She can’t say no to you and I think you know that. She’ll bend herself over backwards to make you happy and that’s honestly not fair to her.” She laughed again. It resonated with concern and uncertainty. “She’s had a rough few months. Especially with how things ended with Adam. I don’t want her to throw herself into something that could just make matters worse.” 

Tom blinked at Jules in confusion. It took several moments for him to gather himself enough to speak. When he did the name fell from his lips in a near whisper. “Adam?” He lowered himself onto the bench, ignoring Bobby’s incessant barking. He’d never heard Rosie utter that name before but the way Jules spoke of him told Tom just how important he must have been. She never said... He felt an all too familiar sinking sense of dread flood through his gut. 

Jules let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle; her eyes held a look of what he thought was almost pity, but he couldn’t say with any certainty. “They were together nearly two years. Happiest I’ve seen her in the longest time. They’d talked about moving in together and she’d mentioned entertaining the idea of marriage.” She paused again, shrugging. “But he got a job in the states. And with the shop and her life here…Well…He took the promotion and they quietly ended things. She was heartbroken and honestly so was he. It took her a long time to start to bounce back. I don’t want to see her get hurt again. Especially, not by you.” 

Tom opened his mouth to respond then, just as quickly, shut it. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace back and forth, vaguely aware of Jules’ stare and Bobby’s confused barking. He didn’t know what to think about anything he’d just heard, let alone what to possibly say in response. In the back of his mind, he’d always known there was a distinct possibility Rosie would find someone else; someone far better for her than he could ever hope to be. At first he had thought it might have been Bryan. 

He’d only seen the man once, in passing, and the little he’d known of him had come from Rosie herself. It had hurt, yes, but not as badly as he had always believed it would. Looking back he wondered if it was because he had sensed Rosie’s own uncertainty. She had said she cared for him but never that she’d loved him. And with that he had, unconsciously at least, known that there was still a chance. A remotely possibility. But Adam…Adam seemed something else entirely. And Tom found that being faced with the reality that she had found someone rather than simply the idea of it, another matter entirely. 

He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to make sense of his thoughts. “I don’t want to see her hurt again either,” he whispered, honestly. “I truly, truly don’t. I understand your concern and I know just how important she is to you. And you are to her.” He paused, looking Jules directly in the eyes. “I know my track record is far, far less than impressive, but I meant what I said. I love her. She means the world to me and I won’t make the same mistake again. I won’t.” He closed his eyes and took another short, calming breath, “I don’t know what the future holds or even if there is one for us, but I won’t walk away again. Not unless she tells me to and even then I’m not entirely sure that I could. I love her and right now, just having her as a friend is enough.” 

Jules studied him quizzically, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms once again at her chest. “And when it’s not?” Her words were pointed, direct. Tom felt his heart plummet at them. He hadn’t let himself think anything beyond the fact that Rosie had let him back into her life. And how grateful he had been for it. That had been enough. But now the idea was there, he wasn’t sure he could let it be. Flashing Tom a knowing smile and a quirked eyebrow, Jules dropped to scratch Bobby’s ear once more and walked away. 

With her words echoing through his head, Tom dropped himself silently back onto the bench. He loved Rosie, loved her deeply. That was one thing in which he was completely and utterly sure. She had loved him, at one point, and possibly still did despite everything that had happened. But he couldn’t know for sure. There was a history between them, as messy and convoluted as it was. What was less certain, however, was their future. She wanted his friendship, wanted him in her life. And he was happy with that. Happy because he was very well aware of just how it felt to have lived his life without her. Just how lucky he was that she was giving him another chance when he’d blown so many. 

But would that be enough? Could he really be content with that if, when push came to shove, Rosie decided friendship was all she would ever want from him? That she cared for him but not enough for anything more. And if that were the case, could he stand by and be supportive if, he couldn’t bear to think when, she found someone else? Watch as she gave her heart completely to another man? Built a life with another? Married? Had children? 

The idea filled him with an agonizing dread. He ran shaky hands through his hair and forced himself to take several deep breaths. The honest truth was he wasn’t sure he could handle it. And he didn’t know what that meant for him or for them.

Next Chapter

[darshit1234-blog]

Focusing on Indoor Air Quality Contamination

A board at the most recent American Relationship for the Progression of Science meeting held in Washington D.C. a week ago uncovered some startling new data about the synthetic concoctions and particulates found inside homes and their capability to unleash ruin on human bodies, particularly little ones.

The investigations introduced at the session, titled "Homes at the Focal point of Substance Introduction: Joining Physicists, Specialists, and Wellbeing Researchers" demonstrated that toxins can be discharged into your home by everything from cooking to cleaning to the filler inside your furnishings. A portion of these synthetic substances and particulates have been connected to thyroid issue, respiratory issues, and diseases.

Marina Vance from CU Rock's Division of Mechanical Designing and Visiting Educator Joost de Gouw of the school's Helpful Organization for Exploration in Ecological Sciences (CIRES) talked about family unit items and cleaners that produce air toxins. Their exploration occurred in a uninhabited 1,200-square-foot test home worked as a major aspect of a community oriented task with the College of Texas Austin.

Vance, who has for quite some time been a piece of the venture, called Home Chem, utilized propelled sensors and cameras to screen the indoor air quality through the span of a month. The researchers led day by day family unit exercises incorporating cooking and cleaning in the home and estimated their impacts on air quality. As per Vance, "We needed to know: How do essential exercises like cooking and cleaning change the science of a house?"

Obviously, we as a whole live in homes where cooking and cleaning happens regularly, so what's the major ordeal? All things considered, it turns out the substance mixes transmitted by these exercises get into your body from breathing the air, eating the sustenance you produce, and contacting your furnishings.

The last consequences of the investigation are as yet pending, yet enabled the analysts to report that

...routine family unit exercises produce huge dimensions of unpredictable and particulate synthetic substances inside the normal home, prompting indoor air quality dimensions keeping pace with a dirtied significant city.

Indeed, even assignments as basic as bubbling water over a stovetop fire could add to conceivably hazardous dimensions of vaporous air contamination and suspended particles. "Indeed, even the straightforward demonstration of making toast raised molecule levels far higher than anticipated," Vance said.

Gouw, additionally from UC Rock, brought up that while we regularly consider vehicles a noteworthy wellspring of air contamination, clean air advocates have guaranteed enhancements around there. Meanwhile, we've seen synthetic substances utilized inside, for example, cleaners, pastes, coatings, and individual consideration things turn into an a lot bigger wellspring of unpredictable natural mixes (or VOCs).

He said while a few toxins (like ozone and fine particulates) are observed by the EPA:

"...data for airborne poisons like formaldehyde and benzene and mixes like alcohols and ketones that start from the house are inadequate."

In any case, it's not simply your cleaning items or your cooking decisions that lead to airborne poisons. Heather Stapleton, an ecological physicist at Duke's Nicholas School of Nature, likewise told the group of onlookers that her exploration demonstrated that semi-unpredictable natural mixes (SVOCs) were usually found in the assortments of youngsters living in homes with vinyl flooring just as love seats and seats that contained fire resistant synthetic compounds.

While the Stone scientists utilized their test house to perform research freely, Stapleton and her group tried youngsters that were at that point living in homes with these hazard factors.

Regardless of the way that SVOCs are generally utilized in everything from gadgets to furniture and "can be identified in about every indoor condition," Stapleton said "there has been little research on the overall commitment of explicit items and materials to kids' general presentation to SVOCs."

In this venture, Stapleton and her partners from Duke, the CDC, and Boston College inspected 203 youngsters from 190 families somewhere in the range of 2014 and 2016 to quantify in-home presentation to these synthetic substances by gathering tests of indoor air, indoor residue, and froth from furniture in every one of the kids' homes. They additionally took a hand wipe test, pee, and blood from every tyke.

(Obviously, all U.S. analyst who take a shot at people, and particularly on youngsters, are required to have their exploration endorsed by a morals board and give a type of assets to families who partake.)

When testing the blood and pee, researchers utilized 44 bio markers to check whether the examples showed presentation to poisons. In homes where the front room couch contained fire resistant materials (explicitly fire resistant polybrominated diphenyl ethers, or PBDEs) kids had a six-overlay higher convergence of that compound in their blood. Kids from homes that had vinyl flooring in each room (in spite of the fact that that was just 9% of homes) were found to have convergences of a compound called benzyl butyl phthalate (BBP) metabolite in their pee that were multiple times higher than those in kids living with no vinyl flooring.

While the majority of the examinations on these synthetic compounds' job in ailments have not exhibited a definitive causal relationship and along these lines require more proof, PBDEs have been connected to neuron developmental delays, corpulence, endocrine and thyroid disturbance, and disease. BBPs have been connected to respiratory clutters, skin aggravations, numerous myeloma, and regenerative issue.

"There was initially wariness about regardless of whether these items really added to air contamination seriously, however never again," de Gouw said. He proceeded:

"Pushing ahead, we have to re-center research endeavors around these sources and give them a similar consideration we have given to petroleum products. The image that we have in our minds about the environment should now incorporate a house."

While neither Stapleton nor Vance could be gone after remark on steps we can take to forestall hurt done by poor indoor air quality, the World Wellbeing Association has since quite a while ago perceived the risks of this contamination, particularly on youngsters, and prescribed great ventilation while cooking, the utilization of tops on pots and skillet, cleaning cooking regions, and repelling kids from smoke to secure them.

In any case, the exploration likewise abandons us thinking about how to keep up our ways of life and keep a spotless home if notwithstanding cleaning items can effectsly affect well-being. It's hard to split a window in the winter or in a region where open air contamination is likewise an issue. Youngsters contact things all the time in stores, schools, and other individuals' homes that we have no power over. Requesting that individuals supplant their vinyl ground surface or buy a lounge chair without fire resistant materials isn't in every case monetarily practical.

The Asthma and Hypersensitivity Establishment of America records significantly more wellsprings of family unit toxins that can influence air quality. While they incorporate a not insignificant rundown of things we can do to improve that quality (however note that this data is supported by Dyson), making the majority of the prescribed strides could appear to be overpowering, and the furnishings rules could require vast speculations (for instance, disposing of toss pads, utilizing just launder able window ornaments, obtaining cowhide or vinyl couches and seats, and supplanting rugs with low-VOC flooring, and so on.).

Be that as it may, a portion of the means prescribed by organizations over the world can give a helpful begin on getting into new practices, including focusing on the materials any new home things you buy are made of. Next time you buy cleaning supplies, you can get unscented and non-vaporized variants. Furthermore, you can freshen up your home when the climate (and different conditions) license. Unfortunately, you'll presumably need to expel candles and deodorizers from your home if hypersensitivities and asthma are potential issues. What's more, when you have the cash, you can likewise put resources into air channels, particularly for zones where pets and youngsters invest energy.

Tragically, producers are not as of now committed by U.S. law to list all fixings in purchaser items and marks, for example, "regular" or "green" don't really mean the items are more secure. Better air quality will require some examination on your part, and it's ideal to locate a solid wellspring of information(not a producer's site, which is given to showcasing their items to you). One spot to begin is the EPA's More secure Decision site, that rundowns items that have been assessed by researchers for more secure fixings and progressively fair naming.

[somethingvaguetodo]

Where the Heartache Began

Marinette isn’t interested in Adrien Agreste. But its not that she isn’t interested in him either.

Read on Ao3 here

Marinette paced the floor of her room, her new friend Tikki perched on the arm of the fainting couch, watching her bemusedly. “What’s the matter, Marinette?”

“I…” Marinette struggled to find the right words. “I don’t… do you… that is… do you think that Adrien understood that I forgive him? Not that he did anything that needs forgiveness! I was the one who rushed to judgment and… Tikki, I should have apologized to him!” Her breathing became shallow, and she was surprised to see her hands clenched into fists.

Tikki flew up beside her. “Marinette, you need to take a deep breath.” She watched as her chosen sucked air in, her cheeks ballooning out comically as her eyes crossed with focus. Marinette let all the air out in one push, her body deflating. “Better?” Tikki asked. Marinette nodded.

She bit her lip as she started pacing again, this time taking care to slow herself down. “It’s just I don’t want him to think I’m that kind of person, you know? One who assumes things about others.” Tikki was looking right at her, eyes wide and unblinking, and Marinette scrambled to think of the next thing to say. Adrien had apologized to her, but she was the one in the wrong. She could picture him clearly - standing outside the school like before, his eyes pleading with her to understand. Oh, how she wanted to understand.

“I don’t want him to dislike me,” she finally whispered.

Tikki looked at her sympathetically. “I’m sure that won’t be the case, Marinette. He wanted to make things better between you, he wouldn’t then decide not to like you.”

Marinette nearly crashed into her dress form as an idea came to her. She righted the mannequin before turning to Tikki. “Maybe I can do something to welcome him to the school? That way he knows that I like him!” She backtracked quickly when she realized what she had said. “It’s not that I like him, like him, just that I don’t dislike him. You know, Tikki? I like him the way I like my other classmates, like Nino and Mylène.” She collapsed into her desk chair and spun around. “Although not really like Nino and Mylène because I’ve known them for years and I don’t know Adrien at all. But I’d like to! Just because I’m friendly. To everyone.”

Marinette took another deep breath, watching as Tikki giggled but didn’t say anything. She already knew what Tikki thought about why Adrien’s opinion of her mattered so much, but that wasn’t the case. She just didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with someone new. What was wrong with wanting him to like her instead of avoid her because he thought she was nasty? Now all she had to do was come up with a welcome gesture that wouldn’t seem too over the top. Maybe invite him to have lunch with her?

She pictured it, asking him, his smile when he agreed. Sitting across from him at one of the tables in the cafeteria. His long, nimble fingers wrapped around a sandwich as his bright green eyes glowed. Throwing his head back and laughing with amusement at something sharp and witty she said.

No, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Do you have any ideas, Tikki?” she asked, choosing not to voice her earlier thoughts.

“Hmm,” Tikki hummed, landing on Marinette’s knee and looking up at her. “Maybe you could bring some pastries?”

Marinette jerked up, sitting up straight, but Tikki hung on. “That’s a great idea! That way I can share with the whole class and it won’t look like it’s just for him!”

With that, Marinette jumped up, headed for her trapdoor. Tikki followed along, rolling her eyes before zipping under Marinette’s blazer to remain out of sight.

Marinette peeked into the classroom through the open door. Most of her classmates were already inside, including Alya, who was scrolling through something on her phone, and Adrien, who was taking to Nino. Her heartbeat sped up as she watched him, gesturing with his hands while he talked. She got lost for a minute, watching the muscles in his arm move beneath his smooth skin. It looked so firm, so solid. Marinette shook herself, glancing down at the box of croissants clutched in her hands and then further down at Tikki poking her head out of Marinette’s purse. Tikki smiled encouragingly.

She stepped through the doorway, making sure to be careful not to trip over anything. Thankfully, Chloé wasn’t in the room yet to stick a foot out and trip her.

“Um… hi,” Marinette started, watching as everyone’s attention turned to her. She focused on Ivan so she was out of Adrien’s burning gaze. “We had an extra batch of croissants this morning so I thought I would bring some to share,” she smiled, glad that she was able to get through the entire sentence with the way that her heart was pounding in her throat.

She moved to lay the first one in front of Nino. “Woo, dude, you are the best!” Nino said, smiling at her. “Adrien, wait until you try one of Marinette’s dad’s croissants. I swear you will die.”

Adrien turned to look at her as she carefully laid a croissant in front of him. “Thank you, Marinette,” he said, his voice soft. Marinette forced herself to smile, the stretch of her cheeks unnaturally wide. She knew she had to respond, something friendly and causal to show that she was welcoming him into the class.

“Welcome.” No, that wasn’t right. “I mean, you’re welcome.” That was better. Adrien smiled. “But also welcome. Like to the class. Because you are new. So welcome.” The wide grin was still plastered on her face, and she could feel her cheeks and ears grow warm. Great, now she was probably bright red on top of the manic grin.

Adrien didn’t appear to notice her odd behavior. “I really appreciate that, Marinette,” he said, not breaking eye contact as he broke off a corner of the croissant and popped it into his mouth. Marinette focused on the movement of his jaw as he chewed. Did everyone’s jaws work that way? “Nino’s right, this is the best croissant I’ve ever had.”

Marinette felt her face get warmer. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

“Hey, Marinette, some of us in the back are hungry too!” Kim called, and Marinette squeaked, jumping slightly and almost dropping the box of croissants. She adjusted her grip on the box before looking back at Adrien, who was still smiling at her. She managed a smile back at him, one that felt slightly more natural than before, and moved to put two croissants on Chloé and Sabrina’s empty table, keeping her head down so that no one could see how red she was.

It rained heavily the next day, forcing everyone to stay inside for lunch. Marinette sat with Alya at one of the round tables in the cafeteria, the raindrops pounding against the glass ceiling. Marinette busied herself with unpacking her lunch bag, listening as Alya prattled on about her plans for the Ladyblog. She pulled a shiny green apple out of her bag and took a bite. The sound of people approaching interrupted Alya’s speech.

“Mind if we join you two ladies?”

Marinette looked up, the apple still in her mouth, and choked. Nino had spoken, but Adrien was hovering a step behind him. Alya started whacking her on the back, and Marinette had to use her hands to physically pry her jaw open, as her teeth were stuck in the skin of the apple. Finally free, she rubbed her jaw as she felt her face heat up.

“Marinette choking on her food is her way of saying, sure, have a seat.” Alya joked, and Marinette watched in silence as Nino and Adrien pulled out their chairs and sat down. Adrien had chosen the seat next to her, and Marinette forced herself to look away as he began taking food out of his bag.

Instead she turned down, eyes on the leftover stir fry her mother had packed for her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Adrien opening a container with salad.

An awkward silence hung over the table, and it took Marinette a moment to realize it wasn’t just her. While she had known Nino almost all of her life, they had never really been close friends. Alya was just as new as Adrien was, and while the two girls had hit it off immediately, she had yet to see Alya talk to either of the boys who had joined them. Adrien seemed unwilling to start the conversation. He looked a little sad, his eyes cast down and watching as his fork pushed the pieces of lettuce around. Marinette wished he would look up, because he had nice eyes and they were nice to look at. That was the only reason. Maybe if she said something, he would look at her.

“Alya blogs,” she blurted out. It achieved her goal of having Adrien look at her, but she didn’t realize that having Adrien look at her meant he was looking at her and it was hard to think when he looked at her. For some reason.

Alya saved her. “I do blog,” she said, slightly confused with the sudden topic but taking it in stride. “I started a blog about Ladybug and Chat Noir, and it’s been getting lots of followers.”

“A Ladybug blog?” Adrien sat up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Marinette sighed a little, and then looked around furtively to make sure no one heard. “I would love to check that out! Ladybug is amazing.”

“I know!” Alya agreed. “She’s the coolest. She’s everything I always dreamed of in a superhero.” Marinette ducked her head further, shaking her bangs over her eyes. She was red for a different reason now, and regretted bringing up Alya’s blog.

“…thinking about making a page dedicated to information about identities and then another page about the origins of the miraculous,” Alya explained. “I’m planning on doing a lot of research into it. Marinette was going to help me.”

“I was?” Marinette questioned. She could feel Adrien’s eyes on her even as she looked at Alya. “I don’t know, Alya, that seems like a big time commitment.”

Alya groaned. “You want me to do all that research on my own?”

“I mean, it was your idea,” Marinette answered. She shoved some food in her mouth to prevent her from having to speak for a while.

“I’m not volunteering to do research, but if you need any help with html, I can give you some pointers,” Nino said. Marinette missed Alya’s response. Adrien was doing that distracting thing with his jaw again when he chewed. He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Marinette’s eyes almost popped out of her head.

“I don’t think I really have time to help out,” he said. “But I can tweet out the link. My official Twitter has a lot of followers.”

“Cool,” Alya said, and Adrien pulled out his phone. Marinette could have kicked herself. She was supposed to be friendly - what kind of friend didn’t already check out their friend’s social media? She would have to find not only his Twitter but his Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram...

“It’s ladyblog.fr,” Alya said once Adrien had a new tweet open. “I had to pay for the domain name but I think it will be worth it.” Marinette watched Adrien type the message. His thumbs moved so quickly! He was so talented.

She suddenly realized there was silence at the table and everyone was looking at her. Had she said that last thought out loud? No, they just looked expectant, like she was supposed to say something. “Um… what?”

Alya laughed. Adrien smiled and Marinette forced herself to focus. “I was just saying that those croissants you brought yesterday were amazing. Did you make them yourself?” Adrien asked. Marinette blinked for a moment, wondering how an entire conversation had changed topic while she was looking at Adrien’s thumbs.

“Yes, make bake,” she said, before realizing that made no sense. “No, hake… that is help bake… that is I help my dad bake.” She enunciated the last few words slowly to make sure she didn’t tangle them. “All the time. Macarons, éclairs, gateaux,” she realized she was rambling and cut the list short. “Yes, I bake croissants. Those croissants in particular. Not all croissants. There’s a lot of croissants in the world I don’t have time to make them all.”

Nino looked shocked; he had never heard her babble like this before. She had never heard herself babble like this before. Alya had an eyebrow raised. Adrien looked a little confused but was still smiling.

He was so good at smiling. No wonder people paid him money to do it.

Marinette sat on the floor of her room, magazines scattered around her. Tikki hovered overhead, looking on. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“No, of course not, Tikki, this is what friends do.” She flipped though the Vogue laid out before her.

“You don’t have a collection of pictures of Alya,” Tikki argued, casting a wary eye to the pile of pictures off to the side.

Marinette laughed. “If Alya were a model, I would do the same thing.” It was true. She wasn’t going through all of her saved fashion magazines looking for pictures of Adrien because he was Adrien, but because he was her friend.

It just so happened that the new Numéro that arrived that afternoon had a large ad inside for Gabriel, one that featured Adrien with the Eau de Parfum. He was dressed casually, but gazing wistfully into the distance. He was so good at that.

This sparked Marinette’s memory that she had a stack of old fashion magazines that she had saved specifically because she had found inspiration in them. There might have been pictures of Adrien all throughout those magazines, and she didn’t even know it! So far she had found six different advertisements, which she had carefully cut out and collected in a pile. Her favorite so far had come from last spring’s issue of La Mode, where he was leaping gleefully while wearing a white long sleeved shirt with the Gabriel logo and a pair of olive green jeans. He looked so happy, like he did when he laughed that day on the front steps.

She finished flipping through the Vogue in front of her without finding another picture. She frowned - six was a nice amount, but she was sure she would find more. She would just have to buy more magazines.

“See, Tikki, I’m looking for this one,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing her phone from where it rested by the stack of pictures. Marinette unlocked it quickly, opening Instagram and searching Adrien’s name.

She smiled at his page. His profile picture was one she recognized; he was leaning against a railing with the Eiffel Tower behind him. She skimmed over the rest of the information.

adrienagreste

Gabriel model. Parisian teenager.

gabrielfashion.fr

1.2 m followers, 254 following

Under his information it listed his followers who she was familiar with. Followed by princesschloéb, ninoooooooo, and gabrielfashion

His Instagram page was a mix of professional and personal pictures. In between shots from his modeling career were pictures of cats he saw on the streets and of interesting foods he was eating. The fifth picture in was the one she was looking for. She tapped it lightly and turned to show it to Tikki. It was a close up of Adrien’s face, and he was looking somewhere off screen with a small, almost cunning smile on his face. The background was blurred, and a red filter had been applied to the picture, altogether making it look like something out of a dream.

The caption underneath the picture read: check out my new interview in 93Style! It had 465,724 likes.

“I like the aesthetic of it,” Marinette commented, turning the phone back to face her. She studied the lines of his face – the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw that she knew from firsthand experience did that very distracting thing when he chewed. His eyes were less green than they were in real life, which was really a pity, because his eyes were one of his most attractive features. Not that his other features weren’t attractive, because they were. Not that Marinette thought he was attractive, but she could acknowledge that he was conventionally attractive. To most people. Who have eyes.

“Why don’t you just follow him?” Tikki asked. Explaining the concept of social media to the thousand year old being had been a fun afternoon. “That way you can see his pictures all the time.”

Marinette dropped her phone. “Follow him?! Tikki, I can’t just follow him!”

Tikki frowned. “Why not?”

Marinette laughed. “Because so far the only person from school who follows him is Nino. And he and Nino are already pretty close, so it makes sense. I’ve only known him for a week, Tikki. There are conventions to follow when it comes to these things.”

“You humans are so silly,” Tikki giggled, the sound like ringing bells. She flew down and hopped on Marinette’s phone screen.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked, leaning forward to look. When she saw what Tikki had done, she screamed. “AHHH, you followed him?” She buried her face in her hands.

Tikki giggled again. “You’ll see, it will be fine, Marinette. You worry too much.”

It took Marinette a full five minutes to calm down before she felt brave enough to pick up her phone again. When she did, she was filled with bitter disappointment. “He hasn’t followed me back yet.”

Tikki giggled a third time, which was getting irritating. “It’s only been five minutes, maybe he is busy.”

Marinette took a deep breath and nodded. She could wait until he followed her back. She busied herself with tidying up the magazines, putting all the old ones back in her inspiration drawer and the pile of Adrien pictures neatly on the corner of her desk. She checked her phone. Two minutes had passed, and no follow request.

Tikki gave her a look. Marinette took out her geometry homework and settled down to complete it. Five problems and five minutes later, she checked her phone. No follow request.

“Argh,” she moaned, giving in to her desires and calling Alya. She put her on speaker so Tikki could hear.

“What’s happening?” Alya’s voice came over the phone.

“Why hasn’t he followed me back yet?” Marinette moaned. She collapsed onto the fainting couch, her head hanging off the side and her phone resting on the ground.

Alya’s voice sounded surprised. “Who are we talking about?”

“Um. Adrien.” Marinette whispered.

“Oh,” Alya replied, unimpressed. “Maybe he’s busy. How long ago did you follow him?”

Marinette checked the time on her phone. “14 minutes ago.”

“Woah, slow down.” Marinette could almost hear Alya sitting up with rapt attention. “Why are you so desperate for him to follow you back?”

“Do you think he thinks I still don’t like him?” Marinette asked instead of answering Alya’s question. “Because that’s not true, you know. And I’m trying to be nice and friendly. This is what friends do. I followed you already, it’s totally not weird that I’m following him, right?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” This time Marinette was sure she could hear Alya’s smile. “Are you crushing on Adrien?”

Marinette flailed and fell to the floor.

“What was that?” Alya asked, her voice loud in Marinette’s ear.

“Nothing, I just fell off the couch,” Marinette said, speaking from the floor. “And for the record, I totally don’t have a crush on Adrien. No-siree. Don’t know where you would have gotten that idea.” She determinedly ignored Tikki’s skeptical look from where she landed on the floor beside Marinette. “I’m being nice and friendly.”

“You said that already,” Alya was laughing. Marinette frowned. She went to speak but Alya talked over her. “What made you decide to follow him now?”

“Well,” Marinette began, and then paused. What was a good explanation for this? “I wasn’t even going to. But then his picture was in Numéro and, as it turns out, five other of my fashion inspiration magazines. But none of them were the picture that looks like a dream where his jaw is like it is when he chews. You know, that distracting jaw thing he does? I saw that picture on his Instagram and I… accidentally followed him 17 minutes ago.” She took another deep breath after speaking. She needed to get better at those deep breathing exercises.

Alya was silent for a while before bursting into nearly hysterical laughter. “I hate to break it to you, girl, but it sounds like you have a crush on him. What exactly is a ‘distracting jaw thing?’ Because I’ve seen him chew too, but I’ve never gotten distracted.”

“Um.” Marinette stopped herself from automatically answering in order to prevent another bout of verbal diarrhea. She had a lot to say about the distracting jaw thing. Probably enough to write an entire dissertation. “You know that thing where he chews and his jaw…” She trailed off. “Is it really not distracting?” she asked, her voice small.

“No, honey. But it certainly is if you have a crush on him.”

Marinette stayed on the ground, her stomach flat against the floor. She looked at Tikki, who was smiling at her, and then at her desk, where she knew that six pictures of Adrien sat in a neat pile. The truth that she had been trying to deny all week refused to hide. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I do have a crush on him,” she started. “What am I supposed to…”

She trailed off again, this time because her phone lit up beside her face, practically blinding her. She stumbled up into a half seated position to read what it said. “AHHHHHHH, Alya, it’s here! A follow request from Adrien Agreste!” She flipped herself onto her back with the phone held above her head. She stared at the follower request page on her Instagram. “Alya, he saw that I followed him and he requested to follow me back! That means that he looked at my profile. He has over a million followers but he wants to follow me back because he knows me in real life and he knows that I have seen him chewing and oh no, Alya, I have a crush on Adrien!”