#I THOUGHT MY PICS WERE EDITED OR HE MIGHT HAVE MY PICTURES PASTED SOMEWHERE ELSE

[izuom]

apologies in advanced for interrupting anyone’s evening or cozy bedtime or subway ride to works but insta isn’t safe for me now 💀 wdym i’m getting online-ly mol*st*d by a fake acc?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 249: Todoroki Taco Night

Previously on BnHA: Nothing happened at all, because the manga was on break last week! Fortunately the anime had finally resumed after a billion years (estimation; exact length of time may be slightly off), so we had that to take the edge off in the meantime. Except we didn’t, because the anime also ended up going on break due to a rugby game or some shit. So that was nice. On a related note, when I die I’d like the Basement arc to lower me into my grave, so it can let me down one last time.

Anyway, Endeavor did some mentoring and gave Shouto and Kacchan a power-up assignment and told Deku to work on Air Force to help him master the fine control he needs for the Bloop. Then Fuyu called a week later and was all “HEY DAD, DINNER, OUR PLACE, TONIGHT, BRING THE KIDS.” And then as previously mentioned, we waited two whole fucking weeks and MY GOD, my body is ready, on to the new chapter we go!

Today on BnHA: Shouto, Katsuki, and Deku are cordially invited to Todosmith Farms for an evening of food and fun! They make it approximately six minutes into dinner before Natsu loses it and exits with more theatrics than a spurned reality TV show contestant. Baku and Deku spend the next hour being all “!!!” at each other back and forth, and whispering about how fucking dramatic the Todorokis are, which fully kills me and is my favorite thing ever to happen in the world. Deku then begins to guide Shouto through his personal healing process like fucking Mufasa booming at Simba from the heavens, and meanwhile Endeavor listens in while quietly kneeling before HIS DEAD SON’S PHOTOGRAPH, IN THE SHRINE THEY BUILT FOR SAID DEAD SON IN HIS BEDROOM, and sorrowfully wishing he could do more for his family. Anyways so I’m in ruins now, but otherwise fine. How are you?

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

well it’s Thursday morning, and I have just seen the picture of baby white-haired Touya because no one in this fandom knows how to fucking spoiler tag (and that’s on me too for browsing the BnHA tag on a Thursday; I know better, but I was just curious how this new group chat thing was working out), so here are my immediate thoughts

we never actually confirmed that the hair color correlates to their powers, huh. we just assumed. but come to think, there’s no reason why someone couldn’t have mom’s hair but dad’s quirk. it’s all Shouto’s fault for being a perfect 50/50 split and thus making everyone assume that THAT’S JUST HOW IT WORKS. damn you Shouto and your dramatic character design

anyways I tried not to look at the pic for too long -- once I realized what I was looking at, I averted my eyes -- but he does look like Dabi, I think. oh shit guys. it’s really fucking happening

and I also didn’t get a good enough look to determine whether this was a photo of Touya (that Deku or whoever happened to spot while visiting the Todochester Mystery House for the much-hyped dinner) or a flashback image (in which he is just standing really fucking still for some reason and staring directly at the camera), so I guess we’ll see. but anyways, Deku and Kacchan didn’t come all the way down to Todoroki taco night to not have their evening peppered with intricate family drama and reopened wounds and hysterical conspiracy theories, so you had better keep them goddamn entertained! lord knows the Todorokis don’t do small talk. this is literally their only way of spicing things up so their guests don’t die of sheer awkwardness while Endeavor sits in stony silence and Shouto just stuffs his face with soba all night

also aren’t we due some popularity poll results soon? just getting in all my random thoughts now before we dive in. anyways Horikoshi, so you know what I want to see now and you better deliver

aaaand now it’s Friday! so Happy Birthday Aizawa, and LET’S GET TO THAT CHAPTER

and we’re opening with Endeavor’s Redemption Arc: The Page. omg

holy fucking shit BnHA. you sure do have a way of making me wait WITH BATED BREATH!! FOR TWO WEEKS!!! ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT!!!! for the new fucking chapter only to have me immediately suck in a deep breath through my teeth and seriously reconsider whether I am in any way emotionally prepared to handle this. “you think you know what you want?!” Horikoshi demands. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA.” sob it’s trueeee

okay. okay. we can do this. hell, if we made it through Tomura’s flashbacks then this should be child’s play. so all right, let’s go

-- oh wait, but before I click to the next page, I just want to note that Endeavor isn’t the only one who’s nowhere to be found in this pic, though! boy you have three sons. uno dos tres

“the hellish Todoroki residence” lmao this legitimately sounds like the title of a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode

ARE YOU TELLING ME ENDEAVOR PROVIDES LUXURY APARTMENTS FOR ALL HIS FUCKING EMPLOYEES OMFG

SO MY THREE SONS HAVE ALL BEEN ROOMING TOGETHER UNDER ENDEAVOR’S ROOF!? THE FANFIC ENDEAVOR AGENCY RESIDENCES?! WHAT KIND OF OT3 SHENANIGANS HAVE BEEN ABOUNDING THIS PAST WEEK OH MY GOODNESS THIS IS LIKE A DREAM

OH MY GOD

okay I have like... ten different notes I want to make about Katsuki and I don’t know where to start SO I’LL JUST START SOMEWHERE!

I’ve legit wanted to see how he would look with his mask pushed up into his hair like a headband for the longest fucking time (I don’t know why! I just wanted to see it!) so this. is. Christmas for me omg. if only he wasn’t making one of his (◣д◢) faces and was instead making a normal face. but that’s probably too much to ask of him at THE CRACK OF DAWN, which brings me to my next point,

I thought he was a morning person?? [furiously checking headcanon notes] kid you go to bed at 8pm. you have your full eight hours by four in the fucking morning. and the full nine and a half hours that GROWING BOYS ACTUALLY NEED by 5:30am, which is when I always assumed you typically woke up in order to get in your morning workout and BEAST IT UP IN THE PIT or whatever gym people do. yet here you are, half dead, while Deku and Burnin’ are raring to go. were you just burning the midnight oil and that’s why you’re grumpy? WAS IT THE FANFIC AGENCY RESIDENCES SHENANIGANS, OH MY GOD I CAN’T

lastly, look at that unzipped collar. why is it that the more disheveled he looks the more I want to pile him up in a headlock and give him noogies. I love him so fucking much, this is ridiculous, he was only gone for two weeks but it felt like SEVENTEEN YEARS anyway

so Burnin’ is all “catch any villains faster than Endeavor yet, LOL, LIKE THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN!!” and they’ve been putting up with this trolling for a fucking week now huh. no wonder Katsuki’s ready to pack it in and sleep for the next year

motherfucker holy shit

sure thing coach. Todoroki Shouto out here ready for the morning huddle. BRING IT IN! ONE TWO THREE PLUS ULTRA

meanwhile Katsuki better keep his hair like that for the rest of the arc now. the collar too. I am living for this

what is Shouto doing with his hands

are you blowing a kiss. or beckoning toward her like Neo in the Matrix. are you channeling your inner Iida. wtf is this

this one panel perfectly encapsulates everything I love about this OT3 dynamic oh my god

Katsuki screaming at Todoroki that he’s better than him (based on impeccable, flawless logic). Shouto completely disregarding this and calmly continuing to have a normal conversation at a normal person volume. and Deku ignoring them both while sending the chipperest, most positive energy in the world out toward this other person because he loves everyone!!

and now there’s three closeups of the boys showing how worn out they are

they’ve been working so hard I’m so proud of them and also they totally deserve a night off to go gorge themselves on soba at Toderly Manor

and then there’s a whole nother page continuing to establish that it has been a week! and they’re working hard! and YES, WE KNOW, though

yep yep yep we get it now WHAT ABOUT THAT DINNER oh my god. it’s been four pages! and if we’re only getting thirteen again then this is precious real estate we’re just wasting here, come onnnnn

so Endeavor is continuing to show off how great he is while the kids look on in frustration

heh but I like this panel because LOOK AT THEM

ALL THREE OF THEM CAN FLY (basically). I love it. yes. just let them be airborne for the rest of the series

meanwhile Endeavor’s thinking agitated thoughts about how Fuyu wants him to try and CONNECT TO THE CHILDREN ON AN ACTUAL EMOTIONAL LEVEL, like what do you think he is?? a human being??!

lol he’s got that look like “WHY DON’T YOU JUST KILL ME NOW AND BE DONE WITH IT.” things he would rather do than have a family dinner with his kids and his two new apprentices: literally. anything. else. ah, but Endeavor. no one said the path of Not Being A Bastard would be easy

he’s thinking about how happy Fuyu sounded on the phone, though. “the thought of us finally becoming a real family...” c’mon Enji you can’t just let your only daughter down like that

and also me. you better not fucking let me down. I was promised dinner at Todoton Abbey and DAMN IT THIS IS HAPPENING

lol he’s getting all fired up and the kids are just mindlessly yelling back like “FUCK YEAH”

even the guy in the background’s like “YEAHHHHHHH LET’S DO ITTT.” the best part is how not a single one of them has any clue what they are loudly agreeing to

OH MY GOD

TODOLAND RANCH, AT LONG LAST. YESSSSS

lmao Kacchan

“it’s not too late!” he is so desperate, bless him. all he wanted was to curl up in his room with a bowl of spicy ramen after a long day and watch old All Might clips on Youtube while blissfully not interacting with a single other soul. and now instead they’ve dragged him to fucking Todo-a-Lago for dinner with his boss, his two best friends who he hates, and SOMEONE’S SISTER. what a nightmare

FUYUMIIIIII

worst part is, I don’t think Kacchan will be able to resist Fuyu’s Kind Elementary School Teacher Energy at all. he’s totally screwed. -- OH MY GOD, IS HE HIDING

like, I know this is the Todoroki drama chapter and that’s where my focus should be, and I’M SORRY, but you guys all know what you signed up for by this point, right? you can read a million other Todo hot takes on tumblr today, but this will forever be the blog that spends paragraphs and paragraphs obsessing over Kacchan hiding behind the door frame and sulking and asking “why though?” in increasingly petulant tones like a four-year-old because SOMEONE DRAGGED HIM TO A SOCIAL EVENT and this is his personal hell! Fuyu’s gonna end up having to manually feed him chicken like Satou did at the party

meanwhile now that I’m actually READING THE REST OF THE PANEL LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, I have to pause for a moment to let my heart break over Deku saying that he hardly ever gets invited over by friends. hey Deku come here for a moment, I just have to give you a dozen hugs real quick and then you can continue as you were

anyway so guys I literally owe Todoroki Fuyumi my life and I want to send her flowers with a “THANKS FOR SAVING THE MANGA” card but it’ll have to wait until the chapter is done. let’s continue

NATSU’S HERE TOO, SHOUTO SAW HIS SHOES, OH M Y GO D

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: shout out to Natsu for wearing the greatest shirt of all time and taking Deku’s rookie-tier gags to THE NEXT LEVEL!)

I LOVE EVERYTHING. I’M SOBBING. BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI. LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!

holy shit Deku

Alton fucking Brown over here. chill my dude

NATSU BRINGING THAT DRAMA YESSSS

and look how oblivious Deku is to the general vibe settling in here

what the fuck do you see. you just literally had no idea how else to respond to that, huh

oh my god oh my fucking god

(ETA: I’m laughing so hard and I’ll explain in the tags. sob.)

guys let me just break down these two panels for you

1. Fuyu is all “NATSU YOU COOKED TOO”

2. Shouto is all “WTF, I ATE NATSU FOOD AND NO ONE FUCKING TOLD ME”

3. Natsu is all “YOU PROBABLY DIDN’T BECAUSE... THAT MAN PROBABLY WOULDN’T ALLOW IT”

how the fuck is there drama brewing over the fucking cooking. this fucking family. and Shouto’s face is two seconds away from being my new icon omg

LMAO

SO YOU TWO FINALLY FUCKING CONNED ON TO THE DANGEROUS SITUATION YOU’VE FOUND YOURSELVES IN, HUH. that’s right bitches. welcome to Todo’s Landing

and now Fuyu has finally made a FATAL ERROR IN JUDGEMENT oh no. that error being trying to fall back on Shouto of all people to ease the awkward tension. that boy literally is made up of awkward tension. right down to his atoms. Fuyu what were you thinking??

FUYUMI: [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] “SHOUTO WHAT KIND OF FOOD DO YOU EAT AT SCHOOL!!!!”

SHOUTO: [LEAPING TO HIS FEET] “AT THE CAFETERIA!!!!”

someone help me I’m fucking dying. actually, you know what, help them

“yo Deku, do you wanna get the fuck out of here right now.” “yes, yes I do.” turns out, they didn’t really need that internship anyway. maybe they can still convince the centipede man to take them instead

holy shit

like, I feel so bad for him, but also Fuyu looks so fucking sad and I can’t?? this is too much, and things haven’t even gotten spicy yet. this arc is going to leave me a wreck

DSFKSLDFJLK

“it’s okay,” Horikoshi says comfortingly, “here’s a panel of your two good boys helping clean up.” WELL THANK YOU, EXCUSE ME FOR A MOMENT, I’M GOING TO GO SIT. and think about Katsuki being a fucking gentleman whose momma raised him right and who helps clean up the dishes after being invited over for dinner. never mind that he didn’t even help clean up the Christmas party. but he saw Fuyu being sad and immediately went MY GOD, I’VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING TO HELP THIS STUPIDLY NICE LADY

anyway so are you two going to ask Endeavor why his kids hate him so fucking much. or just ignore it because you pretty much know the gist already because Shouto can’t keep a lid closed on anything

OH MY GOD THEY’RE HAVING A SECRET CONVERSATION ABOUT IT

FFFFFFFdfsLK -- “YOU GUYS WERE TALKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NEXT TO ME, ON ACCOUNT OF I WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE, IN THE SHADOWS, BECAUSE I WAS EAVESDROPPING, SHUT UP”

anyways so did you guys know that Deku and Kacchan having whispered conversations about how dramatic the fucking Todorokis are is my all-time aesthetic. I didn’t know either actually. but it is

Fuyu why are you apologizing to Shouto for making him help clean up

AND WHY ARE YOU PERSISTING IN MAKING THAT FACE. SON OF A BITCH. GIRL I’M BRINGING YOU SOME ICE CREAM AND SOME DVDS. WE’RE GONNA HAVE A SLEEPOVER AND FORGET ALL ABOUT THIS SHIT. PLEASE FEEL BETTER. I’M SORRY YOUR TWIN BROTHER IS DEAD AND YOUR WISH TO HAVE A NORMAL FAMILY IS NEVER GOING TO FUCKING COME TRUE BECAUSE WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS OMG

oh my god she’s having a heart to heart with Shouto about how he feels about Endeavor. oh my god I see Horikoshi aiming a bow right at my fucking heart. he’s notching the fucking arrow, this is it, it’s been real you guys

that look in his one visible eye. god. there it is. oh god. hurts

(ETA: do you suppose all of the Todorokis have secretly had that exact same dream. we know Fuyu has, and Rei as well based on her letter. I’m starting to think that Shouto has too. it only makes sense that a boy who was denied a real childhood for the first fifteen years of his life is going to have some part of him that secretly longs to just have a normal family. in related news, Shouto had better get some fucking hugs in this arc!)

-- ARE YOU SERIOUS

WHAT IS IT WITH HORIKOSHI LATELY AND BEING DONE WITH JUST IMPLYING THINGS AND NOW VERY INTO SHOWING THEM IN EXPLICIT HORRIFYING DETAIL. HERE’S A DEAD DOG! HERE’S A DYING CHILD! HERE’S A SIX-YEAR-OLD WHOSE MOM JUST POURED SCALDING WATER ON HIS FUCKING FACE AND SHE DIDN’T MEAN TO BUT IT’S TOO LATE AND NOW THEY’RE BOTH TRAUMATIZED. AND SHE’S USING HER QUIRK TO HEAL HIM AND HELLO, THIS ONE PANEL IS ABOUT TO MAKE ME START CRYING. KATSUKI YOU WERE RIGHT. WHY, THOUGH

(ETA: yeah this does not bode well for an upcoming flashback in which a child was presumably burned the fuck alive. feels like Horikoshi was testing the waters to see how much he could get away with. we may be in for some brutal shit pretty shortly.)

OH MY GOD A LETTER

they’re going to discharge her soon!?? IMMINENT FEELINGS INBOUND. I HAVE NO MORE SPACE TO PUT THEM!! MY HOUSE IS PACKED WITH FUCKING FEELINGS ALREADY, PLEASE

ahhhh he says he doesn’t know

this is the most realistic fucking thing I’ve read in this manga to this date. not knowing how you feel about the abusive parent who did so much harm but is now trying to change. boyyyyy howdy I feel that in my fucking bones. Horikoshi is out there delivering the real shit. goddamn

KATSUKI MY HERO

it’s as though Horikoshi placed his hands on his shoulders and said “listen up sonny boy, I’ve got an important job that only you can do. defuse this tension. in any way you can.” and Katsuki looked him dead in the eye and said “I got this”

meanwhile Deku’s hoping he can spontaneously develop another new quirk which will open up a hole in the ground to swallow him up

DEKU: “I HAD PERMISSION!!!” KACCHAN: “I DIDN’T HAVE SHIT!!”

HE IS BITCHING LIKE A DISGRUNTLED HOUSEWIFE HOLY SHIT I’M LOSING MY MIND

“A NORMAL, PLEASANT EVENING!!” yes of course, that’s why you spent the entire ride over here clinging to Todoroki’s shirt and repeating “WHY” ad infinitum. anyways as usual this child is a nightmare whose fickle tirades absolutely no one deserves to be subjected to, god bless him and I adore him so

and Deku is again apologizing for him like they’re fucking married. this chapter is filled with so many highs and lows for me, it’s wild

this, to be clear, is one of the highs. god I love it

oh shit it looks like Deku’s getting ready to say something! SOMETHING WISE, I BET

YESSSSSSS

IS HE?? sometimes this kid can just peer into other people’s souls with perfect clarity, it’s uncanny

oh my god Shouto’s face

genuine shock. he doesn’t even know how he feels, but somehow Deku is able to cut right to the heart of it

oh my god Katsuki’s there to chime right in too and say “but if you feel like he doesn’t deserve forgiveness that’s fucking fine too”

this is actually incredibly fucking supportive? anyway so guys have I mentioned within the last five seconds how much I love Bakugou fucking Katsuki. I have? well that’s okay I’ll just say it again anyway. and also I love Deku and Shouto too oh my god. bless this chapter

oh lol nevermind that still Deku talking while Katsuki is just making faces. well he’s doing his best. anyways so like I said I love Midoriya fucking Izuku

(ETA: [chinhands] do you guys think. that perhaps. Midoriya Izuku might be harboring some unresolved feelings regarding his own absent daddo. maybe. ??? why does this chapter have so many layers??)

ah I see, Katsuki spied Natsu just STANDING THERE LISTENING IN THE DARK, as one does, and that’s why the face

and also YES, Shouto is like the kindest fucking person in the whole series possibly. thank you for acknowledging that?? I’m in the process of arranging all of these new feels into a comfy little pile now, so maybe I can curl up in them. if Horikoshi insists on delivering more and more

SLDKFJSLDKFLSHGLKJKLJSLGKJSDLFKSDLFKJLSDKJFLKSL

“THE OTHER CHILD WHO’S NO LONGER THERE” RED ALERT, RED FUCKING ALERT, IT’S REALLY HAPPENING, HOLY FUCKING SHIT. REMINDER TO SELF, NEXT THURSDAY I’M GONNA HAVE TO GO ON A SELF-IMPOSED INTERNET HIATUS FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS BECAUSE FANDOM’S GOING TO LOSE THEIR FUCKING SHIT WITH THE SPOILERS NEXT WEEK AND I’M NOT EVEN MAD

sdfhk. oh my god. and so it was a photograph! but one which appears to be a segue into a flashback! and the law of escalating tragic flashbacks states that Touya’s is somehow going to be even more horrific than our last flashback, in which, let me just think back for a sec, oh yes, an entire family was massacred and torn into bloody chunks including a six-year-old girl and a dog, and the surviving child was then adopted by a psychopath who adorned him with severed hands and was all “NEVER FORGET HOW FUCKED UP YOU FEEL ABOUT ALL THIS” and then the child murdered some people to feel better about himself. so this is somehow going to be worse than that. well that’s just. ...I don’t even know. I literally can’t think of a lighthearted way to end that train of thought lmao. WE ARE FUCKING SCREWED. get ready to burn, baby

but meanwhile, parting thoughts

so they really do believe he’s dead. that’s confirmed. and he died (or, well, “died”) young, too, based on this picture and on the toys on that shelf. fffff

Endeavor kneeling at a family shrine to pay respects to his dead son and miserably wishing he was still alive is just. repeated stabbings of my already mutilated heart. thanks. thanks for that

he heard EVERYTHING and he’s saying nothing, because what can he say?? I meanwhile have already said “oh my god” about 1600 times in this recap, but I’ll go ahead and say it again anyway one last time because oh my god, the fucking Todofam AND THEIR FUCKING DRAMA!!!

what can I do for my family at this stage? the last plea of a desperate man struggling to make amends and piece together something he’s already shattered into a million pieces. he keeps dreaming of them being happy together, even if he’s not in the dream. he wants to do right by them, finally. but he doesn’t know how. anyways so people have been saying and saying that this arc so far has been death flag after death flag for this old coot, and you know what, they’re fucking right. this does not have a happy ending. this is going to be fucking devastating. and here I am, fully obsessed with it. fuck me

anyways I guess that’s finally everything I can think of to say. this recap is already a million fucking words so that’s fine lol. why though

[titriwrites]

Polaroid Picture -- Chapter Seven

The truth gets out. I'm so sorry. (Also, I might have to edit a bit more today. Until then, all mistakes are mine.) You can read under the cut or here.

Again, they don't talk to each other over the next two days. Beth suspects Tom doesn’t know how to react, how to talk to her, and she's embarrassed and sometimes even sorry for her behaviour.

She knows she shouldn’t be. Doesn’t need to be. She's told him the truth. Maybe even for the first time in over six years. Because who is she kidding? Just because he didn’t come back from that particular shoot, it doesn’t mean they’ve been honest with each other before then.

She didn’t want to go to New York or Hollywood or anything else farther away than the British border, and Tom didn’t want to come back or have her there anyway.

And yet... they’ve never told each other any of that during shooting. At least not when they tried to talk to each other civilly.

Beth blinks, lying on her bed, picking up her copy of The Jungle Book from where she’s dropped it on her stomach with a frustrated sigh when she couldn’t stop thinking about Tom and how he looked like a lost puppy when she kicked him out.

Probably felt like one, too, because for the first time since he’s come back to Oxford, he didn’t look like he was hiding anything.

No. She huffs. She's almost gotten through this damn book, she's going to relax after a busy day at work and finish it.

But she can’t. Beth scoffs at herself and swears softly under her breath. Damn it, she feels like it’s 2010 again. When some nights she couldn't fall asleep because Tom hadn’t called. Leading to days she couldn’t concentrate on her job, because she was too tired and anxious at the same time. Which in turn lead to nights she again couldn’t sleep because then Tom had called and they'd been both bitching.

Beth knows that this is part of the problem, just as she’s told – well, yelled at – Tom days before. She hasn’t been good enough for him to come back and try. They couldn’t compromise. And yet, somehow he can now see himself compromising with someone else.

Her ringing phone interrupts Beth's thoughts – thankfully. She picks it up from the bedside table and frowns when she sees James' number popping up.

They’re set to meet for dinner the next evening, not a Friday roast for once, because it’s not Matt’s week to visit anyway, and Tom has a business dinner in London to go to, James has told her. It seems as if he’s adamant to come back to Oxford after that, though.

As soon as Beth picks up with a soft “Hello” James starts to speak.

“I’m afraid we have to cancel tomorrow, with all that’s been going on, don’t you think?”

Huh? Her heart beats rapidly. What’s been going on? Did she miss something? Is it James, Diana, or the children? Some catastrophe striking Oxford or the UK?

“What?” she asks, rather stupidly. “What is happening?”

“Oh.” That’s all she gets as an answer. Then, “I thought you knew.”

Well, she didn’t. At least she's not aware of it. “What don’t I know?” Beth asks as she drops her book for a second time this evening in order to sit up on her bed properly. She's got a feeling she needs to for this.

There’s a sigh from James. Oh god, it is Diana. “I’ve got photographers in front of my house. Apparently, Tom’s been spotted at the airport making his way to his flight out to London. And when he didn’t appear near his London home—”

Beth feels like fainting all of the sudden. All of these years, and now? “They’ve found us?” she whispers.

“No! No, it’s not that. You’re good. They only found out that Tom used to live here, and that I’m still here. They just know this is where he grew up.”

She lets out the breath she's been holding. “Okay. Okay.”

“And it might be better that you don’t show up at the front door, if you don’t want your face in any newspapers. Tom’s actually quite mad that I have to deal with them. Made phone calls all day.” James sounds impressed, and Beth has to admit she's as well. Tom didn’t make it seem like he cares too much about his family and old friends. But then again, maybe he just doesn’t want to be disturbed or have the truth come out.

And it won’t, because although Tom doesn’t trust this old town, Beth does.

“That’s really nice of him,” she manages to say. “Maybe I can make it through the back door, though.”

James laughs. It wasn’t really supposed to be a joke, she's too stunned for that. “We'll see. I’m sure they’ll be gone in a few days.”

Beth hopes so as well. She doesn’t like to hide.

---

Tom’s fuming as he makes his way through Hinksey Park, running round after round along the path. No, not running. Stomping is more like it.

He hates it, feeling almost helpless.

It’s by far not the first time that the media finds out where he’s currently staying. There are tons of pictures of him walking around New York, Los Angeles, or even London. But they’ve never been here. They’ve never cared for his family. So why now?

Why do they care now that he’s here to finally sort out his past and move on. Is Karma really that much of a bitch? Telling him that he should have done this a lot sooner? That this would have been okay two years ago when he met Julia? Or even would have worked out before he got down on one knee to ask her to marry him? Now they come to town? Really?

He runs faster.

He should have done this sooner. Running, that is, not coming here. But he simply didn’t have the time today, though there were many, many moments he just wanted to forget, leave and not look back.

But instead he’s been on the phone all day, mostly with Brian, because if someone can make this go away it surely is his publicist, right? Wrong. Because while he of course wants to protect Tom and his ‘dirty, little secret’ as he calls it – as he calls Libby, really, something that Tom's not entirely happy about – it is good for Tom’s public persona to be seen with his family.

Sure, he’s a well loved actor, always smiling and very cool with a beautiful fiancé, but wouldn’t it be so cool to have him as a family guy ready to settle down and introducing his fiancé to his family as well?

Tom tends to agree there. But then again, his family has never asked for this. That’s one reason why he hasn’t come back in so long. His family has nothing to do with his fame. They deserve a quiet life, don't they?

Plus, publicity is great, but wouldn’t it be even better, if word of his marriage with Libby doesn’t get out?

Not just because of his public image, but actually because she's never asked for this, either? After all, he’s not just protecting his immediate family. He’s protecting her as well. The fangirls would not just coming for him, they’d probably strangle her.

He runs faster still, not even seeing his surroundings, but just hearing the beat of the music from his ear buds mixing with the drumming of his heart in his ears.

Yes, he’s been selfish. Yes, he probably still is. He wanted his career, and he wanted it to be in America.

But what he never told Libby, what he probably never admitted to himself either, because he had to focus, is that he also protected her.

It may have been in some twisty, pathetic way, but he did. Yeah, he disappointed her, and though her bluntness on Monday night shocked him, her feelings don't come as a surprise for him. He’s just never had to deal with them.

They would have hated each other back then. Either because Tom would have come back to London for her, giving up on his dream – possibly even accusing her of denying him living his dream – or because Libby would have come to America, living somewhere she didn’t want to and trying to be a social butterfly she simply wasn’t.

So, he didn’t come back, and he didn’t ask about her coming to him anymore. They both lived the lives they wanted like this. Yeah, she hates him now. But that’s better than Tom eventually hating her. He couldn’t live with that.

He stops at a park bench, panting and nearly folding himself in half, his hands resting heavily on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Tom knows it isn’t a sudden lack of fitness that has him panting like this, whispering swear words under his breath. It’s him not caring about his breathing pattern on his run, because he’s got Libby on his mind.

His phone rings, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. He answers without looking.

“Yes?”

“They know.” It’s Brian. Again. For the umpteenth time today. But that’s not what Tom cares about now. What did he just say?

“What?”

“Someone from your stupid town in stupid England talked today, Tom. I don’t know if they paid them or if some old aunt in Oxford just thought that a certain pap was very charming. But someone talked. They know about your precious Libby.”

First, Tom is too stunned to form an actual thought. Then it’s lots of ‘shit’, ‘fuck’, and ‘why?’.

“I... who?”

“I don’t fucking know, Tom. I just know that I’ve got a phone call from several news sites here that told me since we're still in the middle of the day here, I should expect a story tonight with exclusive pics of Tom Hiddleston’s wife. It’s just a heads up apparently, we can’t do anything, they have the documents and her name. And if they have that, they’ll easily have a pic within the next two hours.”

Good thing that Tom's still next to that bench. Because his head is spinning and his legs feel weak, and he really, really should sit down now. So, he does.

“I don’t... What do we do?”

“We’ll spin a story somehow. I’ve got some ideas. I’ll call you later again, when I know what the media will make of this. Prepare yourself for a long night.”

Before Tom can utter anything or even think of something to make out of this, Brian hangs up, and Tom is alone on a bench in a Park in Oxford, his world spinning and swirling around him.

He can’t fucking breathe. Is that what a heart attack feels like? Because his chest is hurting and he still can’t fucking take a breath. What does he do now? Does he run home? Does he stay here and hide in this park forever, letting everyone else deal with this?

Well, no. Of course not. He can’t do that to his family or to Libby for that matter. He scoffs, rubbing his aching chest. He’s tried to protect her – to protect them – all those years ago, and this is what he gets.

Tom knew it. He knew that he shouldn’t have come here. He knew that he shouldn’t have gone out to that stupid pub or met anyone from his past. This town talks. He was right about that and Libby was wrong. Too trusting. Good thing she's never come to America with him. She would have been eaten alive.

Tom’s phone rings again. “What?!” he shouts into the receiver, again without looking at the caller ID. It can’t get any worse than this anyway.

“I guess you heard the news then, too. When were you going to tell me?” Shit. Julia’s voice is icy in his ear. Tom closes his eyes. This can get worse after all.

“Julia,” he sighs. “I—”

“Don't bother. You’re lucky I can’t get away from this shoot right now. But I’ll be on the plane on Friday morning, and you better have something you’re going to tell me then. Explain to me. And I’ll better fucking meet that freaking wife of yours.”

---

It really is like the old times. Beth sighs. Damn Tom. And damn her stupid brain, because for the life of her, she can’t fall asleep.

So, she checks her clock – it’s 9.30 – and gets up to make herself a tea in the kitchen.

That’s when a ring from her doorbell startles her. After all the days she's had, Beth almost suspects it to be Tom. She doesn’t want it to be him. Why now? Can’t he just leave her alone? She just won’t open. She’ll make a tea, and then she’ll settle in bed. He can come back one of the other days.

But then there’s a knock on the door and Mrs Johnson's voice. “Beth, dear? Uhm... I don’t know, if it has anything to do with that former husband of yours. But you may not want to go outside. Can you please make him handle that? I want to be able to leave my own damn house.”

The next thing Beth hears are steps leading away from the door to her flat. What, now? Make him handle what?

Carefully, Beth makes her way through her flat, opening the front door slowly. She's always been too curious for her own good, so, she walks through the dark hallway and up to the front door of the house.

Are there people outside? Very, very carefully she opens the door.

And is blinded by flashes. And shouts. It’s a blur. People are in front of her house and they’re shouting ‘Beth’ as well as ‘Hiddleston’.

Beth gasps and closes the door with a bang, leaning against it from the inside. Then she slides down. They know her name. They know her.

Shit.

---

Tagging @devikafernando @itsliterallythis @justthelosersblog @avenger-nerd-mom @archy3001 @nuggsmum @majk78 @hakimo2015 @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

baseball [connor m. x reader]

like what i do? consider buying me a coffee!

summer prompts fic #1. lets see how fast i can forget im doing these

also i know i tagged that post w ‘im gonna do these in order!’ and then immediately proceeded to not do these in order sjkfhsd sorry

baseball/sports. here we go, fuckers. lets get some fluffy connor shit in here.

warnings: language, mainly. connor gets the help he needs and hes getting better AU because i just want him to be happy also some slightly sexual comments

        If there was one thing Connor kept putting off, it was cleaning out his closet. It seemed like every time you turned around, someone in his family would casually drop the hint that there’s probably some pictures in there, or some old clothes that didn’t fit him anymore that he could donate, or maybe that’s where he keeps losing shit so he should probably look into cleaning his closet out. Connor’s response was always the same - that he’ll do it later because there’s a lot of shit in there that he needs to go through. After a while, the task built up. It went from his closet, to his room, to the garage being tacked on as his dad mentioned he has a box full of his shit that he needs to look through and see if any of it’s still worth anything - although he meant that in the best possible way that he could mean that. So a week before graduation, you ended up in Connor’s room, cross-legged with a laptop balanced on your lap as you finished editing your final paper for your english class, waiting for Connor to show up so you could maybe pester him into helping you study for your math final next week. 

        Then you were greeted with a box of trash bags being tossed onto the bed in front of you, Connor peeling off the button-down he’d been wearing after shutting his door. You gazed at him with curious eyes, watching as he threw the shirt onto his bed as well out of habit, before stopping. The look of frustration crossed his features for a moment as he snatched up the shirt, searching his room for the laundry basket he must have dragged in sometime within the past few days - since it definitely hadn’t been there when you were there last. He carelessly hurled it into the top, before grabbing and opening the box he’d just thrown in front of you wordlessly. Honestly, you weren’t surprised he hadn’t said anything yet - Connor got like this sometimes, too caught up in his own thoughts to even process anything else that was going on. But he always realized you were there after a few minutes, realizing something was off and he was forgetting something important, and it always turned out that something was you. 

        That time, it caught up with him quicker as he stopped mid-tear, his fingers hooked underneath the sliver of an open space. His eyes flickered to meet yours. He went back to what he was doing, throwing a quick “hey” your way. Then he looked back up to you, “did Zoe let you in?”

        You looked up from your laptop, tapping away at the keys as you finished up the end of a sentence, “nah. Larry.”

        He shrugged. He’d been out with his mom when you’d pulled up - and usually you would have just waited in the car, but you were used to Connor’s family by now that neither you nor his family cared whether Connor was there or not. It took you a moment before you realized Cynthia had forced him to get a haircut, your attention almost completely devoted to your work up until then. He caught your gaze. “Don’t laugh.”

        “Connie, I’m not gonna laugh. You look cute.”

        Connor frowned as he spoke, running a hand through his the curls, “I miss my hair.”

        “It’ll grow back, babe. I’m sure no one wanted you looking like a ‘hippie’ or something at graduation,” you shrugged, “it’s nice. I’ll miss pulling it, but-”

        He laughed a little. Connor was always cute when he laughed, his eyes crinkling and the little nose wrinkle he’d get. “Yeah. C’mon, I’m not doing this shit alone.”

        “Were you going to if I wasn’t here?”

        “No.”

        After an hour of laughing at Connor’s old drawings from fifth grade, the edgy poetry that he (and Zoe, apparently) had written throughout middle school, and your pestering Connor about home videos and trying to get him to show them to you (he refused, mostly, although he did say he might show you the one when he was in a kid’s show at some local theatre when he was eight), you had ended up back-to-back to him as the two of you sorted through old pictures and trying to find any that had messed up for whatever reasons like being drenched by coffee spills and whatnot. You flipped bad ones onto a spot on the floor that you and Connor had designated upon tossing them lazily in the same spot, and the good ones ended up back in the box for his mom to look through later while scrapbooking. There were a lot of cute little pictures of Connor and Zoe, some at Disney World and others just in spots downtown that you could recognize. You shifted, tossing another picture into the box before freezing.

        “Connie?”

        “What?”

        “Did you play baseball?”

        Connor shifted, looking over to you, “shit,” he pulled the photo from your hand, shoving it into the box without a second thought, “yeah.”

        “Aw, Connor,” you smiled, “you never told me you were in little league.”

        “Because I really didn’t care.”

        “Con,” you said, reaching for the box, “you look pretty happy in these pics.”

        He grabbed your wrist. He was gentle, but he seemed scared for some reason. He sort of shrugged, sliding his hand into yours as a distraction, “I was seven.”

        “Do you miss it?” You asked softly. He didn’t respond. He just sat there, frozen in a moment, the feeling of your fingers between him tethering him to this reality. I remembered being seven and laughing with his teammates and crying over a loss. He remembered keeping it up. He remembered having friends in middle school, all on the baseball team until he finally quit during his freshman grade year,  the questions pouring in because they thought he liked baseball. He did. He loved baseball, so why did he stop? He grounded himself, squeezing your hand softly.

        And very softly, he finally answered you, memories flooding his senses as he mustered up a single “yeah.”

        “Tell me about it.”

        Connor sort of shrugged off the sentence. “How many pictures do we still have?”

        “A lot. You can tell me about baseball while we sort, alright?”

        He nodded. “Yeah. Alright. Tell me to shut up if it starts getting stupid.”

        You never did. You listened, taking in every word that Connor told you. The first game he ever won, he had gone out with his family and the rest of the team for ice cream at this local place called A La Mode (and that’s when you discovered that sparked a hidden love for the place until it closed down just a few months ago), how he got vanilla ice cream in Zoe’s hair by accident and how she cried over it for hours. The swell of victory has shrunk in a moment, and you watched Connor turn slightly bitter for a moment - only to go back and say it wasn’t her fault, she was six and ice cream is sticky and annoying as fuck. He talked about making the team during seventh grade, how he probably still had the weathered old baseball glove somewhere in the house. Connor told you how he was a damn good pitcher for a twelve year old. With each story, Connor kept becoming more and more alive, stars in his eyes as he grew more animated with each story. He and Larry were close. He told you it was Larry’s idea for him to join little league - because he remembered playing baseball as a kid and loving it, so maybe Connor would too. And he was right. Connor loved baseball.

        Connor faltered a little bit. He remembered the glove his dad bought for him for Christmas a few years ago, that he just sorta left in the bag. That had been freshman year. Your warm touch grazed his arm and he looked back to you, trailing off in his stories. You just smiled at him after a moment, bringing his free hand up to your lips to press a soft kiss against it.

        “Maybe we could go play or something.” Your words were soft. Connor sort of needed soft. Thank fuck you were here.

        “You need a team, baby-”

        “I know,” you nudged him, “you could teach me shit.”

        “Alright.”

        “You do know I’m also looking for an excuse to have your arms around me, right?”

        Connor smiled again, and leaned over to press a kiss against your cheek. “Yeah. I know.”