#I’m British with a bad sleep schedule

[tyquu]

It’s Kanera week and despite having over a month to prepare I’d didn’t prep ahead at all!! I will endeavour to make something for at least two of the days this week, because I love these two dearly

[wintfleur]

𓈒 ୭ৎ ˖˙ ᰋ ── BITCH , I’M A BRAT !

aka ophelia’s profile

━━━ ❛ miniskirt so cute and I’m bad, baby girl can I smash?

ᡣ𐭩 BASICS !

name: ophelia lazar  

nicknames: 

pheebs (everyone)

lia (parents)

aunty opie (owen her nephew) 

effy (luke) 

phia (jack) 

heather (seunghan)

birthday and zodiac : April 11th 2002, Aries 

location:

vernon, British Columbia (formally)

manhattan, New York (currently)

ᡣ𐭩 ABOUT ! 

personality: she has a very strong personality, she's very extroverted, but not in an overwhelming way. She’s very confident in herself and her opinions, but she's not full of herself, she's very down to earth. She has a great sense of her humor like her brother and she loves making new friends. Comes off as intimidating to approach because of her resting bitch face, but she's really sweet — I promise! She definitely gives off party girl vibes, she's very playful and flirty, and loves to tease. She’s definitely that popular girl that you're scared to become friends with because she's ‘too cool’ but she's a friendly person. She's very passionate about the things she loves and when it comes to her work/majors she's very serious about it. 

good traits: very passionate, honest and loyal, hard-working, witty, knows how to break tension (awkward or not) just wants to have fun in her life, very much a yolo type of girl, very trustful and reliable, protective of her family and friends, helpful, 

bad traits: obsessive about minor details (mostly with her work and majors), holds grudges, her determination can turn into stubbornness, brutally honest, can ramble on for way to long, scared of commitment in relationships (from bad relationships in the past) she's smart but can be quite oblivious when it comes to people's feelings about her (especially jacks) a little vain tbh (she loves herself okay) 

quirks/traits: raises eyebrows, always keeps eye contact, talks with her hands, hums, drumming her fingers, twirling her hair, flirting, chewing gum

likes: anything batman, getting her nails done, early long walks, the library, shopping, coloring with her nephew, partying, dancing, f1, train rides, her baby aka her car, candles 

dislikes: selfish people, traffic, riding bikes, rude taxi drivers, being talked down to, cheaters 

hobbies: fashion designing, journaling, drawing, thrift shopping, soccer 

fears: being a failure or not good enough, getting her heart broken again, 

strengths: determined, confident, creative, adaptable, attention to detail, 

weaknesses: commitment in relationships, talking about her feelings, having a healthy sleep schedule, self critical, perfectionism, 

languages spoken: english (fluent), korean (fluent), french (fluent), japanese (learning) 

occupation/profession: Dance major (bachelor of fine arts) at juilliard, takes fashion design classes, and is a professional model. 

ᡣ𐭩 RELATIONSHIPS ! 

parents: 

Dave lazar

Karen Lazar 

sibling(s): curtis, jenna, ryan and cory. 

curtis and co: 

Out of all of her siblings she's definitely closest to her eldest brother curtis, they have shared a special bond ever since he held her for the first time. He’s always had this strong sense of protectiveness over her as he's the oldest and she's the youngest. He always did his best to go to every single one of her soccer matches or her ballet recitals and he was always the one to stay up late listening to all her fashion ideas and to give her his opinion on her fashion designs. He takes pride in being her biggest fan. He hates how she lives alone in Manhattan, so he's always trying to convince her to move in with them. He will always see her as his baby sister, no matter how old she is. They are very playful and teasing towards each other, curtis loves to mess with her, messing up her hair and calling her spoiled.

Reanne and ophelia have an amazing relationship, normally ophelia was usually hesitant to become close with her siblings partners, but with Reanne it happened so naturally she couldn't really stop it. Reanne is like a proper older sister to ophelia, she's very motherly towards her as well, always making her favorite meals when she comes to visit them and pampering her. Ophelia is very grateful to have such a sweet and caring sister in law. They often have their own girl nights, curled up on the couch with some sweets and wine as they watch rom-coms all night. She is one of the very few people ophelia trusts talking about her romantic life.  

Owen and Cayden lazar, aka ophelia's little angels, also known as her nephews. Ophelia loves them so much, she promised that she would be the best aunt ever when Curtis and Reanne told her! She was full on ugly crying when she held them both for the first time. She tries to spend as much time as she can with them, she loves babysitting them!! She has some of their toys and clothes at her place so they have things whenever they come over. She spoils them so much, always getting them new things, she absolutely loves dressing them up. There is no denying that they are her little babies, and Reanne and Curtis are so thankful for her and how good she is with them, she is the best babysitter. 

best friends: amber jameson, seunghan & sunghoon park, katsuki kozume, maggie samson, mathieu simoneau, intak seo 

friends: luke hughes, tate mcrae, quinn hughes, john marino, matt rempe 

love interest: jack hughes 

ᡣ𐭩 MORE ! 

scent: she uses a lot of different perfumes, she loves trying out new ones so her collection is pretty big, so perfume wise it's never really the same. She uses rose or coconut body wash and shampoo and conditioner. She likes using the same body products, not really changing up with that. 

outfits: she is very confident and comfortable with herself so she tends to wear more revealing clothes, mini skirts, short dresses, low rise anything, cropped shirts, sweaters and vests, tight off the shoulder tops. But she loves all different styles and she loves trying them out, but those are just some of her main pieces of clothing. She really loves wearing low rise jeans or dress pants with midriff tops. When it's colder she loves layering clothes. Or when she just doesn't feel like getting all dressed up she’ll throw on a short skirt and sweater or some jeans and a top. She has all different kinds of shoes, all different types of boots (cowboy, moto boots, platform chunky boots and more) chunky or platform mary janes, sneakers, heels, she loves them all! She's a big lover of steve madden shoes. 

accessories: she loves accessorizing, she loves anything involving fashion really!! She has a large collection of different types of bags and sunglasses(she loves collecting them), they are definitely her favorite thing + jewelry, to accessorize with. She also has quite a lot of hats, mostly ball caps, beanies and berets. She also really loves utilizing long and thin scarves when she's wearing a short skirt or shorts. She also occasionally will wear a headband, heavily inspired by Blair waldorf. In the colder weather she's almost always rocking ear muffs. She absolutely loves wearing bayonetta glasses, she has so many pairs. Honorable mentions are leg and arm warmers. 

jewelry: ophelia loves jewelry, she's always wearing some! She loves rings, she usually has about four on at a time, small ones, chunky ones, one with crystals or gems, any type of rings really. One ring she is always wearing is a ring that was gifted by her siblings for getting into juilliard. It's a gold band with a mood stone in the middle. She loves layering necklaces. She also occasionally wears anklets and waist chains, it really depends on her outfit. With bracelets she wears all different types, charm bracelets, friendship bracelets, cuff bracelets, again it really depends on her outfit. 

makeup: she's a black eyeliner enthusiast, she doesn't really use foundation, maybe some concealer but that's really it. She loves matching her lip liners with lipsticks/gloss, and loves some highlighter. But she normally just has eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow and her lips done! (it's different when she has her recitals and her shoots) 

scars: has a two inch long scar on her left ankle from an injury playing soccer when she was 11

sexuality: bisexual 

height: 5’5

piercing(s): one in her lobe and second lobe in both ears, helix (left ear) nose ring (right nostril) 

tattoo(s): she has a red heart on her right underboob. 

face claim: zoi lerma 

ᡣ𐭩 FAVORITES ! 

food(s): new york style pizza, strawberries, cucumbers, muffins, peanut butter and celery, dark chocolate 

drink(s): coffee, redbull, watermelon white claw, water 

color(s): neutrals, black, red

animal(s): cats and penguins 

favorite season: fall/autumn 

bands and artists: rihanna, frank ocean, the weekend, isabel LaRosa, ciara, Arctic monkeys, beyonce, lana del rey, the neighborhood, marina and the diamonds, billie eilish 

show(s): gossip girl, the vampire diaries, h2o just add water, sex and the city 

movie(s): jennifer’s body, kill bill, the amazing spider man, queen of the damned, The devil wears Prada, black swan, hotel transylvania series 

person: owen and cayden lazar and jack hughes 

ᡣ𐭩 BACKGROUND ! 

Ophelia was born on a bright and sunny day that matched perfectly with her energetic personality. She became the youngest of the lazar clan, aka their baby. 

Ophelia was a very energetic and sweet child, she was like a busy bee, and was given the nickname “the wild child” by her family. 

Ophelia started ballet when she was four, her parents and teachers were quick to notice how talented she was at it despite her age. 

She played soccer from age 8 to 11, and she loved the sport, but after she got an injury to her ankle she had to stop playing because she loved ballet more, and she couldn't risk not being able to dance again. 

When she started soccer, she met her best friend amber jameson who was on her team, they became inseparable since then. 

Amber goes to NYU, majoring in computer science. 

She was 12 when she realized that she loved fashion design when she was helping her middle school play with costumes. Curtis noticed her new passion and bought her some supplies for her upcoming birthday. 

Her modeling career started as just her getting pictures taken for her ballet portfolio, and the photographer brought up her modeling for other things professionally. And it just kicked off from there. 

Over the years her modeling career just got better, ophelia modeling for high end brands, she was becoming very sought after. She even walked the catwalk for fashion week when she was 17, 19 and 20 and many other fashion shows throughout the years. 

She gains a large amount of following on social media for her ballet and modeling. Getting several million followers on her tiktok. 

She got accepted into julliard and moved to Manhattan where she lives alone in her loft/apartment. 

She is a dance major but also takes fashion designing classes. 

Was given the nickname “the next model it girl” and is known as one of the most talented and promising ballerinas in the country. 

Has been in many ballet magazines, for modeling and having her own features/interviews 

Started her youtube channel in 2019, and she now has over 5 million subscribers. (she posts a whole bunch of different content) 

ᡣ𐭩 FUN FACTS ! 

when ophelia was 14 she went to south korea for a ballet summer intensive program, she stayed with a sweet and welcoming family. Their eldest son Seunghan, who also went to the ballet training camp, quickly became one of ophelia’s best friends. 

He is one year older than ophelia and also attends juilliard with her as a dance major, they are each other's main partners, and they are roommates! 

seunghan’s younger brother is park sunghoon from the popular kpop group enhypen, ophelia has a great close relationship with him, and she's not aware of the small crush he has on her. 

when ophelia was 16 she was on Jimmy Fallon, where she talked about her ballet and modeling. 

ophelia got in her first relationship when she was 18, his name is Ryan James and he is a fellow model, they met at london’s fashion week. He is almost two years older than her. 

they started dating in may 2020 and dated until april 2022, they broke up at her birthday party when Ophelia looked at his phone and saw that he had been cheating on her for months, using her for clout and money. 

ophelia was absolutely heartbroken, she had to put on a brave front infront of her family and friends for the rest of her birthday, making up some excuse on why Ryan had to leave. 

the last 6 months of their relationship wasn't the best, he was bossy, controlling, insensitive, but she was blinded by the idea of being in love with him and being loved back. 

that breakup was very hard on her and shattered her trust completely in relationships. So ever since then she swore of relationships, sticking to hookups (safely ofc) 

shes known as quite the wild child and party girl. 

Has been given many nicknames by the public/media/ fans and her fellow peers, here are a few notable ones

juilliard’s it girl

juilliard’s top dancer

juilliard’s resident party girl

mini natalia (nickname give to her by her ballet master)

the next model it girl 

enchantress on stage 

a lot of people talk about her eyes and how captivating and alluring they are, when she dances and models. She loves holding eye contact and seeing how flustered the other person gets. 

seunghan and ophelia are always getting asked if they are dating because of how close they are, but they are just each other's platonic soulmates. 

ophelia loves going out and partying with her friends, but she also loves just being able to relax at home watching movies in the living room or playing board games. 

ophelia is an amazing cook, she loves learning how to make different cultural foods

ophelia and seunghan have a podcast called ‘on pointe podcast’ 

seunghan and amber are always on ophelia's youtube channel. 

ophelia is one of the top students in her fashion design classes, she wants to create her own fashion line in the future. 

ophelia loves traveling!! 

has an addiction to thrift shopping 

she absolutely loves living in Manhattan, she loves all the friends she has made at juilliard and the life she is making for herself. 

she has a reputation at juilliard for being ‘popular’ and a ‘party girl’ many have said she looks intimidating to approach, but she is really friendly and is a social butterfly. 

seunghan is her alarm clock (she has a terrible sleep schedule) 

she loves video games, and she's really good at them too! 

she has over 10 million followers on tiktok 

she spends an ungodly amount of time in the practice room 

has had her fair share of enemies in ballet because they are jealous of her always getting the lead parts, and the way she's favored by the ballet masters (instructors/teachers) 

her dream is to become one of the best ballet dancers of her generation and ever.

ophelia has a very flirty personality, she loves making people flustered. 

she has a very fun and playful personality, but she's very serious about her work and passions. 

she gets invited to a lot of different events and gets sent a lot of PR packages!

swears she doesn't, but she has an addiction to shopping. 

her nickname ‘mini natalia’ , which was given to her by the ballet masters, means a lot to her. They call her that because they can see that she's very talented and dances very similar to the greats, natalia makarova and natalia osipova, two of ophelia's greatest role models. 

she’s very serious about her love for ballet and ways to improve. Many other ballet students have mentioned how intimidating she can be since she's always striving to be the best. 

really wants to get a pet cat! 

she is very talented in all different types of dancing, and she's trained in gymnastics.

she absolutely loves yoga and Pilates (loves forcing seunghan and jack to go with her) 

Her baby is her car, she sadly doesn't use it a lot in Manhattan, but she loves it nonetheless. 

her middle name is heather

she never loses at just dance, has acquired the nickname ‘just dance queen’

ᡣ𐭩 HER OUTFITS AESTHETIC !

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( she’s finally here my baby ophelia !! out of all my oc’s she’s the one I’ve worked on the most before posting . I just really want you guys to like her , please tell me what you guys think of her !! I hope you guys soon love her like I do :3 )

au m.list

˖ ་ feel free to send in any thoughts/requests you have !! And please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist mwah

˖ ་ taglist : @yoontwin @toasttt11 @cixrosie @winterbarnesblog @iceflwers

[edwinspaynes]

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

-

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

[pensat-i-fet]

Take Two: Part 1 (Rúben Dias)

Part 2 l Part 3 

Masterlist

Wattpad

“So the movie is being filmed in London, right?”, asked Mariana.

“Mainly, but there are other locations in England where you’ll have to do some small scenes”.

“Ok, I hope it’s not too cold there”.

She could see her agent rolling her eyes at her. Anyone could tell she had been unbearable lately. Complaining about every little detail when she usually just worked and never mentioned anything in a negative way. But moving to England…it brought back too many memories. The main one was her ex, who was now living there. But she wouldn’t have to see him at all. She’ll go to London and all those little towns in the middle of nowhere and get this film done. After the success of her last two roles, everyone agreed it was time for her to go for a role that could get her nominated for some type of award. And this role was exactly that. 

“Ready to go?”, asked Amelia, her make-up artist and best friend. Life in Hollywood was lonely. One didn’t know who they could really trust, but Amelia had proven to be a good friend multiple times.

“Yeah”, she answered and entered the jet. 

The flight was going to be a long one, so they planned on spending it watching a couple of movies and trying to get some sleep to better adjust to the British timezone once they landed. 

                                                             **

When they made it to England, Mariana was tired and desperate for a relaxing bath. 

“Want to order some food and watch a movie?”, asked Amelia.

“Sorry Ames, I’m shattered”.

“Ok, grandma. Do you want me to get your schedule to your room when Felix gets here? So he doesn’t bother you?”

“Please!”

Back in her room, she quickly took her clothes off and got the bath ready. The selection of oils wasn’t that great for a 5-star hotel but it’d have to do. Just another annoying thing to add to her already growing list of complaints.

Her bath time was like meditation time for her. Almost sacred. She didn’t listen to any music or watch any movies. She just closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to empty her mind. And more often than not, she fell asleep.

“Babe?”, she heard Amelia say from the other side of the door. She always got a spare key to Mariana’s room.

“Coming!”

The water was starting to get cold and she felt a chill all over her body when she got out of the bath.

“What is it?”, she asked once she was back in the room.

“Your schedule”, said Amelia, with a weird look on her face.

“What’s that look for?”

“Just look at the schedule”.

And so she did.

  -Oct 10th-20th: filming in London. Parts 3 and 5 from the script.

  -Oct 22nd-26th: filming in Birmingham. Studio. Parts 1, 7 and 8.

  -Nov 1st- Dec 12th: filming in Manchester. Rest of the script.

“I thought I was filming in London!”, she yelled. “That motherfucker!”

“Babe, no. Wait! Mariana!”.

But Amelia’s plea fell on deaf ears because Mariana left her room, wearing only a bathrobe, and ready to confront Felix. How could he do that to her?

“Open the door right now!”, she screamed, almost punching the door instead of knocking.

“You got the schedule, then”, said Felix, as if nothing had happened.

“You lied to me! You lied to me multiple times! I said England was bad enough but Manchester?”

“It’s the best role you could get to finally get the award you crave so much. I’m doing what’s best for you”.

“You’re fired”, screamed Mariana.

“No, I’m not. You are going to bed now and you’ll realize that I’m doing what’s best for you. Then you’ll stop being a brat and you’ll thank me when you do your speech at the stupid Oscars”.

Her fury was getting worse and worse. How dare he talk to her like that?

“Felix, do you think you’re untouchable or something?”, she hissed.

“No, I just know I’m good at my job and that I’m doing what’s best for my client. No, actually, not only that. I’m doing what she, what you asked me to do. This is the role you wanted. The film has to be done in Manchester too and that’s that. I can’t tell them where to film when they’ve been preparing for this movie for months just because you don’t want to be there”.

“Yes, I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to be in the same country as him and I don’t want to be in the same city as him. The last time we were seen in the same place, people went mad. I can’t do that again!”

“I thought you were over him”.

“I am”, she said, firmly.

“Then act like it. People won’t even know where you are filming apart from London. I’ll deal with the paparazzi”.

“I still hate you”, she said, leaving and conceding this defeat. She knew he was right and that annoyed her most than anything else.

                                                        **

London was full of paparazzi trying to catch her and the rest of the cast filming scenes for the movie. Security had a hard time getting rid of them. But as Felix had predicted, by the time they moved to Birmingham, no one followed them. She even managed to go shopping around the city centre without bodyguards and not one person bothered her. That felt good. Almost like being back to the times before she became famous. It definitely lifted her spirit. She hadn’t been her cheerful self for a while and she could tell that the stories that would come out of this set would be about what a bitch she was.

She was just tired. And homesick. And lonely. So lonely. 

But Birmingham was great. She loved filming in beautiful locations but there was something about studios that she loved even more. And even though some of the hardest scenes had to be filmed on those sets, she enjoyed it. Comedy wasn’t her forte, she was a drama actress and she planned on proving that to everyone with this film.

“Here”, said Amelia when she sat down in Mariana’s bed.

“What is it?”, she asked, unwrapping a box. “Under eye patches?”, she laughed.

“That’s the best present I can give you. Crying so much for those scenes is making your eyes too puffy”.

“Aren't you the best make-up artist?”, teased Mariana. “Then you’ll be able to make me look good next week despite the puffy eyes”.

“I don’t know, babes. I can’t perform miracles”.

And they both fell on her bed laughing. It was so good to have someone she could be herself with. She had missed that feeling.

                                                           **

Somehow, October had already finished. The filming of the movie was going well but it was time for the biggest part of it. The part that was filmed in Manchester.

“It’ll be fine”, said Felix, holding Mariana’s hand while they were being driven to the hotel.

“So you keep saying”.

“I got it under control”, he reassured her.

Felix wasn’t only an agent and publicist, he was her other good friend. Someone who knew how to help her in every situation and not just because of money. He had proven that many times before as well. 

“What’s my schedule for the days before we go back to filming?”

“We have a photoshoot for Vogue. It took a lot to get it so you better make the best out of it. And then we have a gala. I managed to get Louis Vuitton to dress you for it. We’re doing the fitting tomorrow”.

“Sounds good”, she said, sighing and looking out of the window at the city she’ll be spending a lot of time in. His city.

                                                             **

"I don't like not having you as my make-up artist", complained Mariana on her way to the photoshoot.

"You know how these fashion people are. I'm not good enough for them".

"They don't know much then".

"Hey, you ok?", asked Amelia, noticing her friend looking out of the window with sad eyes.

"Just one of those moments when everything feels like too much, you know?”

"Well, I'm here to talk".

"I know", said Mariana, putting her head on her friend's shoulder and closing her eyes.

When they got to the studio, everyone started to move her around to get her ready. She felt three hands pulling at her hair while others tried to put clothes on her to see what looked best. It was unbearable. 

"So you're an actress?", asked one of the women doing her makeup.

"Yes".

"Would I know you from something?"

"I don't know. Did you watch the last Jake Matthew's movie?"

"Oh yeah, the one with the cute blonde on it, right?"

"That one, yeah", she sighed, knowing she meant her coprotagonist, Josh.

"He's so hot. Who were you in the movie?"

"The one that played his wife".

"Can't remember that".

And that was the story of her career. Being the pretty actress next to the actor who got all the fame and recognition. That's why she was tired of those movies and wanted to do something serious. Something real. Something that showed people she was good at her job. 

"Wait", said the stylist. "Didn't you date a footballer?"

From the corner of her eye, Mariana saw Amelia looking at her worryingly.

"No. You must be confusing me with someone else", she answered, wanting to avoid the conversation altogether.

"Yeah, the City guy. The hot Portuguese".

"Who?", asked another one of the make-up artists.

"I can't remember his name. My boyfriend loves him and I love looking at him”, she laughed making everyone else join her. “Are you sure you didn't date him?"

"Confident", said Mariana with a fake smile. It was a good thing she was really good at her job.

The shoot lasted three long hours and by the time she was done, she could overhear the photographer telling the stylist that maybe one of the photos could be used to which she responded that it was ok because “no one knew her in the UK anyways”. 

Mariana took her coat and left without even saying goodbye. She was so tired of all these fake people. And of having to be fake herself.

"You ok?", asked Felix when she got to the hotel's lobby.

"Sure".

"How was the shoot?"

"Alright".

"Do you know how to speak long sentences?", he asked her, annoyed at her attitude.

"I'm just tired. I'll take a bath and go to bed".

"No, you have the Louis Vuitton fitting".

"Now?"

"Don't whine".

"Felix, please", she begged, almost crying. She just needed to be alone for an hour or two.

He hugged her and let her use him as support like she had many times. 

"Just do this quickly", he whispered, "and then I'll get you your favourite food and leave you alone until tomorrow evening, ok?"

"Ok", she sighed and walked to her room, where the Louis Vuitton people were waiting for her. Time for more fake smiles. When had she gotten so good at faking?

                                                           **

Felix had kept his promise and allowed her to have a morning off. She spent some of her time going through the script. Practising her accent as her coach had taught her. Most people were surprised to find she wasn't American when they heard her talk in English letting her accent come through. 

Once she was done, she asked Amelia to go shopping and for lunch. She didn't really know the area but was sure she could find a cute little place to eat. She tended to avoid the big spaces…even if no one really knew her in the UK. She thought about that line again, rolling her eyes. Who knew them two anyway? 

"So because of the gorgeous neckline of the dress, I thought about putting your hair up. And then we'll do a smokey eye in the same shade as the dress. It'll compliment your eyes so well", said Amelia, excitedly. She loved her job just as much as Mariana loved hers, and she also loved playing with her face as if she was a doll. If it made her friend happy, she'd let her experiment as much as she wanted.

"I'm sure you'll make me look perfect but don't use all the time on me, you need to get ready too".

"Eeeeek!", screamed Amelia, making everyone look at them. "Sorry, I still can't believe you convinced them to let me have a dress too so I could attend the event with you".

"A bit stupid of me to take someone prettier than me as a plus one but oh well, I'll allow you to outshine me for one night", she laughed.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure all the big celebs will fall in love with me".

"You never know", said Mariana with a wink.

After a long shower, she started to get ready with the help of Amelia. For once, it was just the two of them, plus the occasional visit from Felix, and it just felt like two friends getting ready for a night out. Mariana didn’t stop smiling the whole time. 

"Ready?", asked Mariana when they were about to leave the limo to join the red carpet.

"No, but I can't hide now, can I?"

"No", she laughed, taking her friend's hand.

The red carpet was another place where she could just act and pretend. She kept her head high while she heard the photographers yelling all types of things at her. And once she reached the end of the carpet, she took a deep breath.

"That was amazing!!!!", said Amelia.

Mariana turned to see her beaming. At least someone enjoyed the experience.

The aim of the night was to show her clothes and to say hello to the important people. Or those who everyone thought were important people. 

"Can I steal her from you for a second?", asked Felix smoothly while taking her away from everyone else.

"What is it?"

"I need you to not freak out", he said, making her freak out.

"Why?"

"Rúben is here".

She could feel her chest contracting at the words. What was he doing here?

"How?"

"I don't know. I checked the list at least 20 times and his name wasn't there. It isn't there now. But he is here. Unless he's got a twin that showed up at the event and I find that a bit unlikely".

Mariana closed her eyes to try and control her reaction. She couldn't see him. They couldn't be seen together. Not again. 

"I need the toilet", she said.

"Don't run away without telling me, please".

"I won't", she promised. And continued her way to the bathrooms.

She kept looking at herself in the mirror trying to find there the strength to deal with this moment. Her face looked pale from the shock of the news and her eyes were watering. But she wouldn't let anyone notice how affected she was. She would just say goodbye to everyone and leave before Rúben could even realize she was there.

Determined, she made her way back to where she thought Felix would be.

"Ana?", she gulped after hearing that voice. His voice. And that nickname. No one called her that anymore. She made sure of it.

"Hi Rúben", she said back, turning to look at him. Seeing him up close after such a long time made her knees feel weak. He had changed a little, but not much. He still looked like her Rúben and that made her heart beat too fast. Hearts can be so stupid sometimes.

"I didn't expect you to be here".

"Yeah, same. I gotta go and talk to people. It was nice seeing you, though", she said and tried to get away from him as quickly as possible.

"Don't go", he said, holding her arm. The contact made her skin burn. "Can't we talk and maybe catch up? We haven't seen each other in so long".

"I don't want people seeing us together", she said and saw him flinch.

"Ok".

"I…I didn't mean it like that. I just, you remember the last time we were in the same restaurant and people thought we were back together. It was madness for our publicists. And we weren't even there the same day".

"Is that all you care about now? About publicists and what people think of you?", he said, with a sad look.

"Don't judge me like that. You play the same game. And I have to care. You don't get how hard this career is".

"Whatever you say, Mariana”, he said, making her own name sound like an insult. “I'll leave you so I don't taint your perfect image".

His words tickled her.

"Don't be a child", she said, following him and tripping on her long gown. Damn it!

"You ok?", asked Rúben, kneeling down to check on her.

"Yeah, just twisted my ankle. But I'll be fine".

"Here. Let me help".

She took his hand and let him pull her up and closer to him than she had been in a very long time. They both were thinking the same. It was clear in the way they looked at each other.

A camera flash woke them up from their daydreaming. 

"Fuck! Great!", said Mariana, separating herself from Rúben.

"Do you need help? To go back to your people?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine. You enjoy your night".

And she ran to where she thought Felix would be, but couldn't find him at first. Her panic kept rising but Amelia found her to save the day once again.

"You ok?"

"No. Can we go?"

"Of course. You've done the red carpet already and talked to reporters. Let's go find a car".

                                                            **

Once they were back in their comfortable pyjamas, Amelia made them some hot chocolate and they sat down on the bed to talk.

"I'm sorry I cut the night short, Ames. I know you wanted to experience this kind of event but seeing him…".

"Hey, I get it", she told her, holding her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. We hadn't really seen each other since our break up and…I just, I…having him so close and talking to him, it felt so natural. But then we were already getting annoyed at each other. It confused me".

"He was your first love. It's understandable".

Rúben wasn't just her first love. He was her only love. 

"I just hope I don't see him again while I'm here. I don't need this".

"I'll get him banned from all of the places we go to", said Amelia, trying to make her friend laugh and achieving it.

"It should be fine. No more events. Just work and then we go back to LA".

"Yes", agreed Amelia. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

"Please".

                                                         **

The next morning, Mariana woke up determined to not let her encounter with Rúben affect her. 

"Morning Fifi", she said to Felix, joining him at his table for breakfast.

"You are in a good mood", he said, like it was a bad thing.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Have you checked your social media?", he asked.

"No, why?"

She had actually avoided her phone last night. It wouldn't have been the first time she felt vulnerable and went to Rúben's Instagram to check what he was up to. Seeing him moving on with his life both helped her move on with her own and made her hurt. It depended on the day.

"See it for yourself", he said, giving her his iPad.

There he had collected all the articles about her and Rúben. The photo featured in all of them was of them holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. She couldn't deny they looked like a couple. 

The headlines and articles weren't much better. All of them wondered if her being in Manchester had anything to do with him, if they had decided to give their relationship a second chance. 

The hardest part was seeing all the old photos they posted. All of those photos from their happy times together. She had those photos saved and looked at them sometimes, remembering the good times. They actually tended to lift her spirit but they did the exact opposite this time.

What would be Rúben's reaction to all of this? Would he care? He seemed upset at her for being bothered by what people could think but would he just brush it off and move on? She wished she could ask him. But asked Felix instead.

"What do Rúben's people think of this?"

"I still haven't been able to talk to them", he told her, disappointing her. "Are you ok?"

"No", she said, laughing sadly. "But I will be. People will forget in a couple of weeks like they did the last time, right?"

"We can hope. Besides, you're back to filming soon and can concentrate on that".

"Yes", she said with a smile. "I'll do that".

                                                         **

For the next couple of days, Mariana concentrated on work. She and her co-lead had decided to do some rehearsals on their own. It was great to finally work with someone who took his job as seriously as she did. And that allowed her to forget about Rúben for a couple of hours every day. Until she had to go back to the hotel and ask Amelia to stay with her and take her phone. She was so tempted to contact Rúben. Felix told her his publicists kept ignoring his calls and emails and she didn't know what to think of that. Did he not care at all? Did he not care about her being hurt by this situation? She wondered about how he was dealing with it all the time.

"Hear me out", said Felix when he got to her trailer where she was going through her lines.

"Nothing good has ever come out of your mouth after saying that. Plus, we are in a public place and you know I can't make a scene. So rip the band-aid quickly so I can refuse your idea just as quickly and we move on".

"You need to fake date Rúben".

Out of all the things he had ever said, that was the craziest one yet.

"I'm sorry. Are you on drugs?"

"I've tried to keep you away from all of it, but everyone is going crazy over your photos together. Your name has never been mentioned in the press this much and his social media engagement has gone crazy. And his publicists need the good press. He's been single for too long and that leads to rumours they don't like. A serious boyfriend image gets contracts more easily. You know how it works".

"No, you're actually high. I'll get someone to get a cup you can pee in and test it".

"Mariana, come on. It wouldn't be your first rodeo".

And that hurt more than the suggestion of this publicity stunt with Rúben. Yes, she had done the same with her last two co-protagonists. Everyone in Hollywood did it. But this was different.

"It's not the same. I dated Rúben for two years and it was very real. I can't act when it comes to him. I'm not a sociopath", she said, fighting the tears.

"I know it would be hard for you. It wasn't my idea, you know?"

"Whose idea was it?"

"Rúben's PR people".

Why would they want that? Didn't people just assume football players slept around? Wouldn't they prefer for him to be single so a potential cheating scandal could be avoided? It made no sense.

"What would I get from that? He's the one who wins in this situation but what about me? He isn't even famous in America and that's my main market".

"All fair points", conceded Felix. "But you really wanted to get that role in the next movie by your favourite Portuguese director and this would help. You’ve been away for so long, people don’t even see you as Portuguese anymore but he represents the national team in soccer".

"Football", she corrected him but Felix ignored her.

"And I've already gotten requests from many magazines asking to feature you both if you are back together. Do you know how hard it was to get one photo of you in British Vogue? And now I have all these Portuguese magazines asking to have you on their covers".

If it was someone else, she would have said yes. She hadn't been interested in dating ever since her break up with Rúben anyways.

"Can I think about it?", she asked.

"Talk to him".

“I don’t…I can't”.

“Talk to him”.

But she wasn't sure that was going to help.

                                                          **

After much debating and getting Amelia's advice, Mariana decided to talk to Rúben. She needed to know if this was as crazy of an idea for him as it was for her. It had to be. He would have never accepted something like this before and she doubted he had changed that much in these two years.

Many meeting spots were out of the equation because of how public they were. And so was Rúben's apartment. Paparazzi had been there ready to get a photo of the two of them for days. So they met at one of his teammate's houses.

"So, what do you think?", she asked.

"I don't know. When I was first told about it, I wanted to tell them to fuck off but they made good points, I guess".

"That's why we hired them. They make crazy ideas sound slightly logical", she said with a small laugh.

"I guess. Um…so what do you think of all of it?"

"I mean, the decision is yours, Rúben. I have so much work between filming and castings. I don't have time to date anyways, so there's no risk of meeting someone. But if you did and this got in your way, I'd feel so bad and…".

"What do you mean not having time for dating?", he interrupted her. "You were dating those actors you worked with. So there is time for that".

When she looked up at him, she realized how quickly he understood what her look meant.

"It was also fake".

She nodded.

"So you haven't been with anyone else since we broke up?", he asked.

"No. I mean, I've been with men but…nothing serious. You?"

"Same".

And there was something about that admission that made both of them feel relieved. 

"So, are we doing this?", asked Rúben.

"If we do it’s with one condition. Non-negotiable".

"What?"

"We don't lie to our parents", she said. "I loved your parents and mine loved you. I can't lie to them about this. Give them…hope, you know?"

"We'll disappoint them instead, then?"

"Better than lying to them", she said, seriously. It really was her only condition. 

"Deal", he said, offering his hand for her to shake. And that's how they embarked on what could be their best idea…or the worst.

[ladykatdollx]

Some of my Oz headcannons <3

•He just gives me true gentleman vibes😫I know he’s MENTAL but for you he has a soft spot, he’ll open doors for you (he defo checks you out as he walks behind you), calls you “love” “darling” “pretty girl” “sweetheart”, carry you over rough ground if you’re wearing heels. Just things like that🫶

•he’s secretly a true romantic even though he may not show it sometimes, he’ll kiss your neck and breathe heavily, play with your hair and hold your hand. He definitely gets jealous and protective over you and is always prepared to fight somebody if someone approaches you and won’t leave you alone.

•I feel like he’s an animal lover, considering his crime name is literally Penguin…Telltales backstory I’m not actually sure how he got his name, loves birds especially. He’d be the type to laugh at penguins waddling and sliding into the water at a zoo.

•I feel like he’s life in England was great for him and he low-key misses it, as that’s where he was brought up, especially his criminal life and being a boxer, boxing ring proprietor. I feel like he may have had a few flings or maybe a relationship but it just didn’t work out and it may have made him feel shit deep down, then resorting to drinking and other bad influences (such as gambling etc) to get over it, but that’s something he’d probably never admit, he puts on his overly confident, loud and tough boy personality to cover it. Also, when him and Bruce were good friends, Bruce definitely got more attention, especially female attention and it may have had an effect on Oz, thinking that he wasn’t as handsome as Bruce and couldn’t pull girls like Bruce could (even though Oz has natural charm and IS A HANDSOME MAN NOW😫he’d have all of us over him <3)

•he’d defo invite you to watch him at a boxing match, he’ll brush his hair back and flex in front of you to impress you and he’ll do the most to make sure he wins that fight, he couldn’t bare the thought of losing in-front of you.

•I’m not entirely sure how he really feels about the scar across his nose bridge, I feel like sometimes he looks in the mirror to look at it, getting flashbacks to the fight he had that caused it, but he probably laughs it off and thinks it looks cool. But even if he did feel insecure you’ll tell him it’s attractive, which would make him feel better.

•he got prison tattoos in prison FOR SURE AND TELLTALE WE NEED A TOPLESS 3D MODEL OF HIM

•if he’s had some trouble he’d come and find you, you are his peace and comfort, especially if he’s had a brutal fight, I feel like he’d lay down with his head resting on your lap whilst you sort his face out, he’ll groan due to the pain tho.

•I know it’s sort of contrasting to the point I said above this but although he’s highly protective of you, if you were willing to join him in the criminal underworld, he’d feel unsure but deep down he’d love you to be by his side.

•he has a good and silly sense of humour, I love his British humour throughout season 1, especially as me being a British girl. For those who remember episode 5 when Bruce gets back into the computer and Oz used the comic sans font to type “cobblepot enterprises” LMAOO and changing Bruce’s medical history💀💀I can just imagine him messing around and being stupid with you, like maybe physically annoying you too😭

•defo gets drunk on a Friday and Saturday night and is painfully loud but is funny as hell when he’s drunk

•absolutely HATES these young wannabe gangsters that think they’re hard, they irritate him, he thinks they’re dickheads and will say something like “they have no bloody idea of the real world…twats” as he shakes his head

•probably not best to ask him about how him and Bruce’s friendship, he’ll give you a look and you’ll know to stop talking, or he’ll be like “I don’t wanna talk about it, alright?” And he may get annoyed. Although he will eventually open up to you about his parents and how badly he misses his mother especially.

•has a shocking sleep schedule but he’ll happily let you sleep, he’ll keep checking up on you and may sit down on the bed and watch you for a while, when he eventually gets tired he’ll lay down beside you and wrap his arm around you.

•he loves his old fashioned style and thinks modern fashion especially modern men’s fashion is SHITE

•I KNOW ITS BIG I KNOW ITS BIG!!!!

[thekrows-nest]

Huge wall of speculation incoming.

I have no idea if the OG! - Vamp! connection hinting at the mantra relates to stuff I’ve guessed at but hasn’t been publicly confirmed, or if it’s stuff that even I haven’t touched on.

Let’s see… let’s first go over what I do know.

The hunger is obvious. 

OG Krow is notoriously food insecure and that’s where his organ harvesting side hustle comes in. His thirst for fluids… if you know you know. He’s also metaphorically ‘empty’ because he’s been so emotionally neglected and lonely. Also his job and the dog eat dog survival growing up may have desensitised him to a lot of emotions like guilt, empathy (for those who give a reason) or fear.

As well as being a really striking visual it makes sense with all of this for Vampire Krow to have a gaping void at his core, a ravening hunger and thirst, an empty belly and no heart. Traditional vetala also prefer to feed on intestines so there’s that too.

OG Krow is an artist, and creativity is his entire drive outside Dove. (It could be argued that as a muse who broke his art block, Dove is even an extension of that.) Maybe there is some of that remaining.

OG Krow loves music and has sensitive hearing.

OG Krow is clever and sneaky, easily underestimated.

OG Krow loves birds. Perhaps that can be used in some way.

OG Krow was/is homeless, hypervigilant, stealthy, has wonky sleep schedule but great physical stamina. 

Vampire Krow may be tethered to one place or haunting abandoned places, but if he may have travelled to America he may have been cursed to wander. Or just have free will like most vamps. Or is being forced to move around to avoid being killed, or endlessly chase more prey. I don’t know.

I do know he doesn’t have an opulent mansion and probably doesn’t have a safe secure resting place. Vampire Krow doesn’t tire because he has nowhere safe to rest with other monsters hunting him and is always seeking the next meal. He can possibly be active night or day but might use stealth/night for easy meals if he still has enough sanity to not just charge in.

OG Krow is Bengali/Indian. 

In the subcontinent it would reallllly suck for him if he was weak to the sun. Or garlic. Or superstition. Too easy.

You know what? Both Krows have freckles and OG Krow curls up in bed to stay warm (maybe that’s just his substandard accommodation). I headcanon that if Vampire Krow  ever gets a moment of peace or if prey is unavailable he's sitting in the sun to get nice and dark or just not caring about it, he can barely feel the warmth but imagines it’s still a source of energy (prana) and maybe it warms his cold dead body. He tries to remember it from when he was alive. 

Maybe he even uproots and crushes cloves of garlic into his mouth because the strong acrid flavour is the only thing that still registers, or eats it like a starving human eats grass. 

Whoaaa… In some religious contexts Hindus may consider the strong odor of onions and garlic ‘impure’ and avoid them during sacred occasions or religious rituals. It is veg food though.

However like OG Krow he may not have been allowed to learn about Hindu beliefs. Despite having memories of life, having Hindu roots and being traumatized by colonization, I still don’t know what garlic means for Vampire Krow either way. If it’s good or bad. I’m going to say it’s not effective because it’s so well known against European vampires.

I don’t think Vampire Krow gives a single crap about crosses, or (if OG Krow had the religious upbringing I have brought up as a Krack theory) they may just make him angrier. This is a fairly traditional weakness anyway. 

Krack theory… OG Krow as orphan or in foster care?

Part of living Vampire Krow’s trauma under occupation may have been being orphaned or taken from his parents for colonisers to raise. 

I don’t think this is it as OG Krow is Bengali/Indian but there were also cases of British men siring children and returning overseas, abandoning mother and child to fend for themselves. Not a great position to be in in poverty, war, and famine… may have led to the loss of his mother or their separation.

This doesn’t square with him being turned as an adult unless there’s some device like slowly aging or he was just reaching age. But abuse of children of colour in ‘children’s homes’ was rife, mortality was high and covered up, and children were the favourite prey of traditional vetala. I actually have no idea how or why he was turned.

So. This is all I have so far.

Blind unreasoning hunger (greed), (bloodlust?) or rage may lead Vampire Krow into traps or destruction/capture by another monster. (Either Vishnu or Krishna said downfall comes through greed, lust or rage.)

Appeals to any remaining humanity may be somewhat helpful.

He may be bribed with… liquids. Or mangoes?

Water from the Ganges seems to be the equivalent of holy water.

Offers to braid his hair did seemed to give him pause. And marriage proposals? In Indian culture it can be inauspicious to have open (untied) hair and the attention and sensation of braiding might remind him of life. Or lust.

Perhaps Vampire Krow may be mesmerized by art or beauty. Perhaps he can be distracted by looking at or making mehndi.

Maybe he can be enthralled by music or given pause by loud sounds.

Maybe you have to be wary of him pretending to be trapped or enthralled, only to suddenly lunge.

He may pause to look at released birds, or stop to collect strewn feathers.

You cannot sneak up on him or outrun him as you will be taken unaware or tire before he does. I believe the term is persistence predator.

Krow mayyyy be weak to intense cold? Or at least not really like it.

Turmeric is an auspicious spice and to be avoided during mourning so maybe he’s weak to that? He may still be given momentary pause by Hindu taboos from when he was alive? Assuming he was allowed to learn about it.

He may have trauma from life around young ones being taken or hurt, and might be persuaded to spare babies or children.

As to the specific mantra relevant to OG Krow, I still don’t know. There may have to be some more lore drops before I even have the faintest hunch.

But I did look for mantras for abandoned babies and came up with another chant to Narasimha - then randomly stumbled on something interesting.

There was once a deva named Hiranyakashipu who sought the boon of invulnerability against most weapons and causes of death, and to become so strong that only Lord Vishnu could kill him. Beast, deva and man could not kill him, he could be killed neither at night or in the day, not inside nor outside, on the earth or in the sky, by weapons either living nor nonliving… 

Then one day Hiranyakasipu had a grievance and sought to kill Narasimha (the fourth avatar of Vishnu). Hiranyakasipu was then attacked by Narasimha under the perfect conditions to circumvent it all.

Narasimha took a form that was part human and part animal, attacked Hiranyakasipu at twilight, and did it at the threshold to his house. Narasimha laid the deva on his own thighs (off the ground but not in the sky) and killed him by disembowelment with his claws.

Probably not why Vampire Krow is gutted but an interesting coincidence all the same. 

So I’m guessing that Krow has a number of conditions under which he can’t be killed or at least things that won’t work, and so there may have to be some creative thinking, riddling and loophole abuse.

Vishnu/Narasimha also does seem to be the one to pray to for defense from demons or evil spirits.

Took a bit to get to this because my god what a novel that is this ask. /pos

I appreciate that you make me much more of a genius in character design than I really am Krowspiracy. /silly I guess it's one of those things that even if the creator didn't consciously go into a design with certain thoughts, it still subconsciously bleeds (ha) through. Maybe I still am a genius?

...New canon for Vampire Krow. He absolutely lounges in the sun whenever he does have a moment's peace. He probably doesn't really warm up any more, or really feel it, but, it's a moment to try and reflect back on when he was alive. To try and desperately still cling to what humanity he has left.

And no garlic isn't really effective one way or the other to Vampire Krow. The main thing for him is I wanted to get away from "traditional" (western) vampire weaknesses for him. He's not western, so why would those weaknesses apply to him? So someone trying to eat garlic or something as a means to ward him off are in for a nasty shock.

Crosses might not be a magical weakness to him, but they could still infuriate him as a possible reminder of British colonization. So in one sense, is a weakness, but not like how you'd think for a vampire.

I do like the idea that enthralling him with things of beauty is a means to at least give him pause (or even confuse him with unexpected kindness). There's so many stories of terrible beasts being tamed or thwarted or whatever when showing compassion to them instead of aggression. And that is a neat idea to have with Vampire Krow.

As for the specific mantra... I'll give a slight hint. It is to a specific deity but likely not who most would think of. And it does have to do with OG Krow lore. However, that lore hasn't been publicly revealed yet. (For you though, Krowspiracy, as a treat, I'll say you did pretty much nail what the lore was, more or less, in one of your theories.)

Pretty much for a mortal to kill him would require specific conditions I think (or well... basically nuke him sdfnmbdlf). A fellow supernatural would have an easier time killing him, albeit that doesn't necessarily mean they can accomplish the task.

[avastrasposts]

The British Connection - ch. 11

Cross posting this properly on Tumblr for the first time so it's been scheduled out throughout the day:

The plot follows MI6 agent Eve Edwards as she's assigned to help Billy Butcher and The Boys take down a new type of supe killing politicians on both sides of the pond. Not much fluff in this, plenty of canon typical violence, smut and extreme amounts of Britishness

Read on Ao3

By the time Butcher pulled up outside his flat it was three am. He’d been keeping an eye on Eve sleeping in the passenger seat but her breathing had been calm and even so he didn’t bother waking her up to check on her head. Now he put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. 

“C’mon, wake up now, we’re back.” 

Eve blinked a few times and looked around, giving a big yawn. “Already?” she mumbled, straightened up. 

“C’mon,” Butcher said, “you’re kipping at my place tonight. MM said to keep an eye on you for the next twelve hours.”

Eve’s head was throbbing and she winced as she sat up, “Are you sure? I think I’ll be fine at my place.” 

“Ye, and that look on your face says otherwise,” Butcher had come round to the passenger side and helped her out of the car. “Plus I’m bloody knackered and I’m not driving any more tonight.” 

…

Butcher’s place was what Eve had expected, bare bones and strictly utilitarian. A bed with no legs was on the floor in a corner and he directed her to it and went for the sofa himself despite her protests. 

“C’mon, Billy, you don’t even fit on the sofa. I’ll take it.” 

“Just get on the bloody bed, I’m knackered enough to sleep on the floor.” He grabbed a pillow off the bed and sat down on the sofa. 

“Billy, the bed is big enough for both of us, you won’t get MI6 cooties from me. I promise I’ll stay on my side.” Eve scooted herself up against the wall and rolled herself over, closing her eyes. 

Butcher hesitated for a few seconds, Eve was already falling back to sleep and he noticed that she was still wearing his coat, wrapped around her with the long sleeves tucked up under her chin. With a sigh he moved the pillow back to the bed and got on to it, kicking off his boots. 

…

It took Eve a few moments to remember where she was when she woke up the next morning. Opening her eyes she saw Butcher on his stomach next to her, using his arms as a pillow, still sound asleep. She remembered falling asleep in his coat last night, or early this morning rather, and now she was underneath the duvet, his coat hanging over the sofa in the corner. He must’ve taken it off her at some point and pulled the covers over her instead. She smiled at the small gesture of making sure she was comfortable.Seeing Butcher’s softer side was rare but she felt like he’d dropped his guard with her a bit yesterday during their trip to Washington D.C. despite his anger at keeping secrets from him. 

Eve watched him sleep for a little while, he looked younger and calmer sleeping, the change in his face was striking. Suddenly she felt a rush of affection for him, almost reaching out to touch his unruly hair, but she stopped herself. Instead she pushed herself off the bed and looked around for the bathroom. 

When she came back to the room Butcher had woken up and was sitting on the bed, rubbing his big hands over his face. 

“Morning,” she said, pushing her fingers through her hair, trying to tame her bed hair. 

“Morning,” Butcher replied, his voice still rough from sleep. “How’s the head?” 

“Not too bad, the bump is sore but no headache.” 

“Alright, you’re probably out of the woods but MM will check you over when we get to the office.” Butcher stood up and picked up his coat. 

Eve pulled on her boots and looked over at Butcher as he did the same. 

“Butcher…” she began, uncertain about how to phrase her words. “I know I kept things from you about my background and maybe I should’ve told you.” 

Butcher looked up at her, his face unreadable. 

“I’ve just…I’ve been in this line of work for too many years maybe, and holding my cards close to my chest is second nature.” Eve sighed and pushed her fingers through her hair. “Even when maybe I should trust someone.”

“You’re alrigh’, luv, I’m not exactly known for being an open book,” Butcher muttered, tying his boots in his usually untidy fashion. 

“I guess I just wanted to say thank you for looking out for me yesterday, you didn’t have to, letting me sleep at your place, in your bed, stealing your duvet and all.” Eve smiled at him and he gave her a crooked smile back and she suddenly realised he had dimples in his cheeks. 

“Couldn’t let you sleep in me coat, now could I?” Butcher said and pulled the coat over his shoulders, shrugged into it, but he’s still smiling at her. 

He’d been watching her sleep last night, checking her breathing, while he gently tugged his coat off her, replacing it with the duvet. She’d mumbled in her sleep, nightmares making her eyes screw up and low whimpers escape. He didn’t tell her now, but he’d laid down next to her, put his arm over her side and gently stroked her hand until she settled again. Her body had been warm against his and it had reminded him painfully of better days.

Now he shook the memory away with brusk action.

“Right, let's get to the office then,” he said and grabbed his car keys off the table. 

“Please, breakfast on the way, I’m starving,” Eve replied, her stomach rumbling. 

“Ye, let's grab something on the way. 

….

When Butcher and Eve arrived at the office with breakfast, the rest of the team was already in place. As they walked through the door MM stood up from his computer and came over Eve. 

“Let me see your head. Butcher said you got a nasty bump yesterday.”

“Ye, things didn’t exactly go smoothly,” Eve sighed, showing MM the contusion on her forehead. 

“Any headaches, nausea?” MM asked as he lightly prodded around the bruise forming. 

“No, not today. Headaches last night as we drove back, but I slept through the night without any problems once we got back to Butcher’s place.” 

MM raised an eyebrow at this, “You stayed at Butcher’s place?”

“I take it this isn’t a common occurrence” Eve said, glancing over at Butcher who was talking to Hughie, both of them hanging over his laptop. 

“I’ve known the dude for 7-8 years, I’ve never been to his place.” MM bent down slightly so that he could look into Eve’s eyes, “Follow my finger with your eyes without moving your head.” 

“He hated your guts yesterday morning but last night you slept at his place, that’s a sharp 180 even for Butcher. You must’ve impressed him in D.C.”

“Did he tell you what happened? I’m not sure “impressed” is the right word,” Eve said.

“Yeah, he called when you got back to the city, I think you were still sleeping. He said you got both of you in without a hitch and it was just bad luck the supe turned up. I think he was worried he’d hit you too hard on the head. Tell me if you feel any pain.” 

MM ran his fingers down the back of her neck, where her spine met the base of the skull, pressing into each vertebrae. “You’re good, no signs of a concussion.” 

“Thanks”, Eve said as Butcher and Hughie came over.

“Any luck with the security cameras at the hospital, MM?” Butcher asked.

“Yeah, pretty successful. I got a clear shot of the supe and I managed to wipe the footage of you two as well. I think I got to it before hospital security reviewed it.” 

“Nice one, MM,” Butcher grinned. “Hopefully that’ll slow them down.” 

“We’ve got an ID search running, should have a result soon,” Hughie pitched in. 

Eve grabbed the bags of breakfast and put them down on the coffee table by the sofa where Kimiko was already sitting. 

“Coffee?” she asked her and when Kimiko nodded she handed her a paper mug. “We got breakfast for everyone, not sure what you guys might like though so there’s a bit of everything, bagels, muffins, some fruit, help yourself.” 

Eve grabbed a bagel for herself while Kimiko went through the bags and found a breakfast muffin. Butcher made his way over and grabbed a bagel too, sitting down on a chair next to the sofa. Hughie, MM and Frenchie joined too and soon everybody was tucking into the food.. 

“So,” Butcher brushed some crumbs from his hands, “we need a plan of attack once that ID check is done and we know what cunt we’re dealing with. He’s extremely dangerous, seeing as he can control people by just looking at them.” 

“Mademoiselle Edwards,” Frenchie looked over at Eve, “MM said you were controlled by the supe last night, is there any way of fighting his control?”

“No, not that I know. I remember talking to the driver in the hospital bed. The next thing I know I wake up in the back of Butcher’s car with no memory of how I got there.” 

Eve looked over at Butcher. “We need to be extremely careful. All of us are deadly under ordinary circumstances, with a supe controlling us we can wreck serious damage on those around us.”

“I agree,” MM said, nodding his head. “Once we know who this dude is we need to exercise extreme caution. If the search throws up an address I suggest we set up surveillance to see if we can get to him when he’s off guard.”

“Yes, I was thinking the same,” Eve replied. “Even if he’s a supe, he’s got to sleep sometime right? Maybe that’s our chance.” 

“Depends on where he’s sleepin’,” Butcher said, “but I agree. Surveillance first, ‘opefully we can find a way to get to ‘im.” 

He grabbed a breakfast muffin from one of the bags, catching Eve’s eye as she peeled a banana and he pointedly bit into his muffin. She stifled a giggle that made MM look from her to Butcher and back again. 

“The van is ready to go, we just need to check we have the right equipment,” Hughie said. “Once we know what we’re dealing with I’ll get it in order.” 

“Did you get any information from the surveillance tapes Mallory sent over yesterday?” Butcher asked MM. 

“Nothing more than we already knew, same m.o., no clear shot of his face and no obvious motive.”

Hughie’s computer pings behind them and they all look over. 

“The search is done, seems it’s thrown up something.” MM pushed himself up from the and went  to check. “Yeah, come on over, this is it, we got him.”  

The team gathered around the laptop and looked down at the images on the screen. 

“That’s the fucker alright,” Butcher growled, “Daniel McKay, born in Worcester, Massachusetts, dual US and UK citizenship, current address; Franklin Way, Croydon, UK.” MM taps deeper into the record and more information floods onto the screen, including the scan of McKay’s UK passport and his entry date into the US. 

“Any info on where he’s staying now?” Eve asked MM. “If he’s staying under his UK passport he’d have to give it to any hotel.”

“Not yet, he might be staying with friends or family, or he checked in to a place that lets you stay anonymously.” 

“Let me check what I can find on him through MI6.”

Eve pulled out her own laptop and set it up at Butcher’s desk, logged in and connected to Vauxhall. Butcher came over and leaned over her, one hand on the back of the chair, the other on the desk. She was suddenly very aware of how close he was, his hand on the chair brushed up against her back, and his body heat radiated over her as he leaned in closer over her laptop. 

Her fingers fumbled as she typed in the supes name and passport number, Butcher’s close presence was suddenly slightly nerve wracking. As he leaned closer to scan the information that filled the screen his forearm pressed against her shoulder and his scent filled her nose. The heavy fabric of his coat had its own smell and it lingered on his shirt, underneath it he smelled of warm skin and fresh sweat and something else that tugged at her memory. 

Her search brought up McKay’s credit card records and it seemed like he wasn’t too worried about hiding, or didn’t think that anyone knew who he was. There were charges from all over NYC and Washington D.C.

“He’s not hiding himself,” she looked up at Butcher who was still leaning over her. 

“No, he probably thinks he’s safe since he could enter the US without any issues. His passport wasn’t flagged.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out why he’s doing this, what’s his agenda? Is he connected to Vought in any way?” 

“No,” Butcher muttered, deep in thought, “If ‘e was with them he’d been picked up already. Vought doesn’t like unsupervised supes going around killin’ people. Bad for business.” 

Butcher leaned closer and tapped at the screen. “Here, this ATM is next door to a cheap, flea ridden apartment hotel down in Hunts Point. The kinda place that doesn’t deal with credit cards, cash only. Bet ya he’s stayin’ there and took out cash at the ATM to pay for it.” His brow knotted in thought, “We’ll need to bring some firepower with us just to do surveillance.” 

Eve suddenly realised what Butcher’s scent was, she inhaled deeply and laughed. “Gun cleaning solvent, that’s what you smell like!”

“Wha’?” Butcher raised his eyebrows in a confused look as Eve took hold of his shirt sleeve and sniffed it. 

“Hoppe’s number 9 gun cleaning solvent.” She laughed again. “It’s been driving me crazy ever since last night in the car.” 

“I think you’re still feelin’ the effects of that bump, luv.” Butcher chuckled at her but the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her and she felt her breath catch in her throat. He was still leaning close over her and the laptop, shielded from view from the others. Suddenly he lifted his hand from the desk and took a gentle hold of her jaw, letting his thumb run over her bottom lip. His eyes moved down to her mouth and she saw him dart his tongue over his own, before their eyes met again. He held her jaw for another second before he dropped his hand to the desk as Eve let go of his shirt sleeve. She could feel her heart beat hard in her chest and the touch of his thumb was still lingering. 

Butcher stood up straight and looked over to the rest of the team who were all still huddled around MM’s computer. 

“MM,” he barked and they all looked up. “McKay is down in Hunts Point, at The View Point Apartment Hotel.���

“Alright, how you wanna play it?” MM replied.

“You and Hughie take the van down there and check it out, I’ll meet you there. We’ll see what we need and then you two take the first shift. Edwards and I’ll take the second shift this evenin’.”

Butcher was all brusk action as he walked away from Eve, starting to gather gear from various locations around the office. 

Eve had her eyes on her laptop, still scanning the information provided by MI6, but her stomach was full of butterflies. The thought of spending hours in a van with Butcher was suddenly both exciting and nerve wracking. 

“We’ve got to keep it professional, I can’t let the man’s damn swagger get me distracted,” she said to herself. But in a back corner of her mind she indulged in a small fantasy of what it would feel like if he’d followed up his touch with a kiss. She shook her head, pushing any thoughts of Butcher’s lips out of her mind and focused back on the screen in front of her. 

“Edwards, you’re with me,” Butcher called at her from across the room and she looked up. “I’ll get you back to your place, c’mon.”

“You don’t need me now?” she asked as she looked over at him. Butcher’s face caught her eye and she could’ve sworn she saw his mouth curve in a mischievous grin for a second but he dropped his head and continued looking through a box on the floor. 

“No, get some rest and I’ll pick you up tonight. If anything happens before then I’ll ring ya.”

…

Back down at the street they got in Butcher’s car and he pulled out in traffic, heading towards her flat. Eve knew she wasn’t imagining the tension between them. Something had shifted when he touched her and now they were alone in the car with it unspoken between them. 

“So, gun cleaning solvent, huh?” Butcher suddenly chuckled. “Didn’t realise that was such a turn on for ya.” 

“Who said I was turned on by it?” Eve raised her eyebrows at Butcher who kept his eyes on the traffic. 

“You’re the one who wanted me to sleep in the same bed as you last night, darlin’,” he reminded her with another chuckle. 

“Only so you wouldn’t have to bend yourself in double to fit on the sofa, Butcher.” 

“I don’t know, you were getting kinda cosy in my coat there,” he threw her a mischievous grin.

“You offered it to me, remember? Maybe you’re the one turned on by seeing a woman in your coat.” 

They’d come to a stop at a red light and Butcher turned to her, hooking his arm around the passenger seat and leaning closer to her, the air in the car suddenly very thick. His look gave her a fresh flock of butterflies and she mentally slapped herself. 

“Maybe you did turn me on, but the question is, what am I gonna do about it?” he said in a low voice without taking his eyes of her.

Eve couldn’t help herself, her eyes flicked down to his lips and then up at his eyes again and the corner of Butcher’s mouth twitched upwards but he didn’t move. His lips were slightly parted and Eve felt her pulse increase as neither of them moved.

The car behind them honked as the light turned green and the moment broke as Butcher turned back to the steering wheel. 

“You know” he started, “for an MI6 operative, you’re not very good at hidin’ your emotions.” He was grinning again, clearly enjoying ribbing her about the effect he had on her. 

“What emotions?” Eve said, keeping her voice neutral, “You’re the one who touched my lips back at the office, you’re the one going all emotional on me here.” If he was going to keep this up she wasn’t going to let him forget that he’d made the first move. 

“Only after you got me all riled up with your talk of gun cleaning solution,” he chuckled. 

“I knew that was a turn on for you, Butcher,” Eve laughed, lightly slapping the side of his thigh.  

“And you’re the one sniffin’ my shirt an’ all,” he reminded her as he grabbed her hand and put it back on his thigh, his hand staying on top of hers. Eve caught herself wishing the traffic lights ahead of them would turn red but they stayed green and Butcher kept driving. 

“Now you’re definitely flirting, Butcher,” she said as the warmth from his thigh made her palm tingle. She could feel the muscle under the jeans shift as he took his foot off the accelerator. 

“Are you enjoyin’ it?” he asked, throwing her a sideways glance as the traffic slowed down. 

“Maybe,” she replied and he looked at her again with a smirk that said otherwise. “Yes, ok, fine, I’m enjoying it,” she relented and his smirk grew wider. “But we’re tracking a seriously dangerous supe, I’m trying to be professional and stay safe.” 

“Then why is your hand still on my thigh?”

“Because you’re holding on to it, Butcher.” 

“I’m only holding it so you don’t move it higher, my self-control is not that strong, darlin’.” This time he gave her a big mischievous grin. 

Eve rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away from his leg. “Seriously, Butcher, you’re such a tease.” 

He laughed at that and she could see his dimples under his black beard. “I love teasin’ you, luv, you’re gorgeous when you scowl at me. Even when you’re holdin’ a knife to me throat.” 

“I should’ve brought a bigger knife,” she grumbled but he could see the smile in her eyes. 

They reached her building and Butcher pulled over to the curb and turned to her as he put the car in park. 

“Alright, back to business then,” he said, turning to Eve. “I’m gonna make sure everythin’ is set up in Hunts Point and I’ll give you a ring before I pick you up tonight. If anythin’ happens before then I’ll let you know so be ready to leave if I need ya.” At the last words he smirked and Eve sighed and shook her head as she opened the door to the car.  

“I’ll see you later, Butcher.”

“Later, gorgeous.” 

[drtanner]

I keep forgetting that you’re English. Like, it’s jarring every time that I’m reminded that you’re English. Not that it’s a bad thing but I guess I never notice when you use more English slang terms or spellings and whatnot. In my opinion, I would’ve pegged you for being somewhere in the Central Time zone in the USA. Probably Illinois or Tennessee. Colorado is in the Mountain time zone but that would be another pick.

Sidenote; do the English and British get mad when called the other? Because if you’re actually British and I’ve been calling you English, my bad, I was going off of what I saw. Anyways bye love you (no romo) (I’m drinking, can you tell?)

Honestly my sleep schedule is fucked so I can't even blame you for thinking I live in a US timezone. I wish it were different but I have the ADHD so here we are. ( b ._.)b

Re: British/English, you'll get different answers depending on who you ask. To make this abundantly clear, England is in Britain, so it's true that an English person is British, but someone who is British may not necessarily be English. Britain also includes Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, so a British person may be English, Scottish, Welsh or (Northern) Irish.

However.

While English people are generally (generally) fairly happy to be called "British", if you call a Scot, a Welshman or an Irishman "British" you're probably going to get some choice words in return! This is largely because "British" has become more or less synonymous in a lot of folks' minds with "English", which is itself because historically we've been a bunch of domineering cunts who only care about ourselves and the Scots, the Welsh and the Irish have all suffered for it immensely over the centuries. And they still do! Which is why none of them like us and hate it when someone calls them "British"!

Saying "British" when you really mean "English" is a weirdly widely-accepted kind of erasure, and I don't particularly like being called British myself because of it. Then again, I'm not a unionist. Unionists just fucking love being called British.

Anyway! I'd tell you to enjoy your evening but it sounds like you're already well on the way there, lmao.

[someone-give-me-a-hug]

update timeeee

Ello there guvnor! tis I! Huzzah! 

Yeah i dont know what that was either. hello hello! much better. it has been a little longer than expected to update but i wanted to wait until after my exams finished to give you a reply! 

first of all, i think I've only ever had a tomato once. my grandma gave me one and i felt too bad to say no after absolutely hating it. But hey maybe I’ll try it again! Beans however? well i could live off of beans on toast, which granted aren’t the beans you are probably on about but omg maybe its that British in me but beans on toast is an absolute banger of a meal (and was the first thing to come to mind after Bean Crock, which we eat in the winter, another classic).

To answer your very valid question about the number of exams i had, it was 21. 21 exams :) In all fairness exams sorted out my sleep schedule like a charm. i decided to get up at 6am everyday i had an exam so i could have breakfast and revise the content. which then meant i went to bed earlier (around 23:00) and slept like a log the whole night! the longest exam was 2 hours and 30 minutes. and let me tell you, i made a big fat mistake; i decided to take my friends advice and go through the paper backwards. what an oopsie that was. I ended up forgetting that the outside world even existed during that exam, it felt like lifetime! but honestly, oh well too late to change it now. 

We had a BAV (Beliefs and values) exam (3 actually, catholic christianity, judaism and then philosphy and ethic) becuase it’s required to learn. we needed to use a source of wisdom and authority in most answers and the one i mustve used a hundred times was ‘Love thy neighbour’. I’m also pretty sure I made a few up but hey ho it’s done now. 

It’s officially the summer holidays and school doesn’t start again until September so I’ve got so much time on my hands I have no clue what I’m gonna do! when I go back though I’m doing my Level 3 certifications (A-levels) in history, English lit and philosophy and ethics!

on the note of wildlife, there are so many birds in my garden it’s insane. I’m starting to think they’re building an army to come hunt me down and peck out my brains. although i doubt they eat brains, maybe I’ll have to stuff my pockets with seeds as a sacrifice. Also i had to search up what a bull moose was but oh good heavens THEY ARE HUGE!? I swear i’d literally cosplay Jesus and ascend to heaven if i saw one of them. I love the fact that you get to see wildlife, it’s so cool! I once got chased by a flock of geese and that was scary enough. I think geese talk to each other because they always seem to stare me down. Now listen, I may have a seriously moody resting face but come on! I just want to go about my day and here I am getting glared at by the most viscous bird ever. unfair if you ask me. 

Oh oh oh! about the tumble drier situation, I have been known to lack common sense at times. For example, when i start a task and don’t plan ahead. Imagine I’m baking something and as I wash up i haven't got out a tea- towel to dry my stuff. i will freeze like a moose in headlights (see what i did there? eheh funny). It’s like i have no issue remembering what the emergency quota act did during the red scare in USA history yet if something is missing or new my brain just grows legs and goes on holiday. 

In the words of my grandmother, if brains were made of dynamite i wouldn’t have enough to blow my cap off. 

Random thought I had the other day to finish off: the saying ‘Hold you horses’ comes from literally slowing down a horse. like ‘stop, slow down’ ‘Hold your horses!’. it has taken me an unbelievably long time to realise that. like what else was ti meant to mean?! I’m literally as thick as a plank of wood sometimes. 

Anyway, I hope you are well! I hope everything is good and that you’re good! 

Love ya! Little sib!

[chaletnz]

The Home Stretch: Lima to Cusco

The Cusco airport was more of what I’d been expecting - run down and dated without any useful or well-maintained facilities. I was at least able to get myself a map of the area and then headed out to be ripped off by a taxi like a lamb to the slaughter. I had not slept at all in over 24 hours, and there was no free wifi in the airport so I was willing to pay anything for a ride to the hostel so I could lie down and shower. I’d seen articles online saying it should be about 15 soles but he said 40 - in the grand scheme of things $12 for my own taxi in my current state of mind was not bad! There were a lot of stray dogs that I noticed during the drive, and the houses built small and close together with fences topped with bits of broken glass to deter intruders. I had a bit of a wait to get to my room so I sat in the lobby area to plan my afternoon and then a group arrived that I’m convinced are an Intrepid group like the one I’d done in Central America - mostly British, and including a guy who ended up breathing oxygen from a tank since he couldn’t handle the altitude. I showered as soon as I was able, and just in time because they shut off the water to work on some pipes in the courtyard. I laid down for a little bit and then once I was sufficiently hungry I went out for an early dinner of a 1/4 chicken and chips at Super Pollo which was good but super greasy so I needed to burn some of it off with a walk around the San Pedro Central Market and nearby streets. The market was only about half open with a lot of stalls closed for the day already. It was different to other markets I’ve been to too in the sense that people did not harass me to look at their wares, rather I was able to browse openly. It was the perfect temperature to be walking around in a tshirt while I admired all the trinkets and things for sale. I didn’t end up buying anything right away, since whatever I buy I will have to carry around for a month but I have some ideas of what to pick up at similar markets in Lima before I head home. I carried on walking around the small Cusco city centre to see some of the plazas, there was one with a huge crowd of people standing in a circle and some street performers in the middle. There were about six vendors selling popcorn just behind them, and numerous street dogs running around everywhere. One of the dogs peed on one of the popcorn stands which immediately put me off buying any street food! I was totally exhausted by this point so I headed back to the hostel to get some internet and plan out a few things to visit when I have my free days to explore Cusco. The tour ended up calling me ahead of schedule to explain everything important for me to know for my upcoming Machu Picchu tour tomorrow. While I was talking to him a girl sitting nearby had apparently been listening and trying to pick my accent. Her name was Jordyn, she ended up being from Steamboat Springs - very close to where I live in Colorado. Our plans were a little different for the week but after talking for two hours like old friends we arranged to meet up on Thursday for dinner after my day tour of the Rainbow Mountain. At last it was time to sleep at about 7pm after preparing all of my things for the tour and a quick shower in the morning.

[carmenberzattosgf]

NO IM BRITISH,SCREAMING, STOPPPP THATS SO FUNNY, no i'm just a british gyal with an absolutely FUCKED sleep schedule. i live in like the north of england 😭😭 i thought it was obvious, IM ACTUALLY CACKLING

also a good mullet is elite tho, BUT the only guys i've seen pull it off are two british youtubers (willne and james marriott my beloveds <3) so i lowkey understand the slander

OMG ALSO the fact you're from tennessee is so weird to me, i always thought you would be from like further north?? or even like maine/new england vibes.

DO YOU HAVE A SOUTHERN ACCENT? if so, iconic. if not, still iconic.

-🍓

DUDE THIS IS LIKE WHEN YOU FIND OUT AN ACTOR WHO PLAYS AN AMERICAN IS BRITISH.

Im surprised I give off New England vibes omg. I wanna visit there soon, it all seems so pretty!

I do indeed have a southern accent! It gets rlly bad when I’m tired.

[shoveitevil]

this semester is going to be very very bad i can just feel it ive gone 2 days and already fainted ive nearly thrown up I’ve come in late ive completely fucked up my sleep schedule im tired the Ritalin helps me get through the day but on an empty stomach there is just a pit where my waist should be and ever since my dumb ass decided to look at godforsaken 4chan i now have 20 million new insecurities! year 7 babytrans me would have never imagined me getting fucking hand dysphoria! or knowing what a bideltoid width is! my coming out deadline has 11 more days and if i wait longer I’ll hate myself in the future im already kicking myself for not immediately coming out when I was like 12 if i have to go through the real permanent shit oh my god. whenever I look in the mirror now i can literally only look at my shoulders I hate it ughhhhhhhhhhhhh. what do I tell the school what do I tell my cis guy friends what do I tell my primary school parents what do I tell my nana and my aunt what do I tell my British family. and I need to do the whole transition suffer all the mood swings and awkwardness and everything while I’m studying for the second most important set of exams in my life. when do I stop boy moding because if I pass early than that means that people might treat me like shit but if I don’t even pass by the end of y12 I’ll cry. ugh god if I go through with this ill literally just be a talking point and people will stare at me and I’ll have to wear long sleeves in the summer

[tmisaccidentreportbook]

MAG035, Old Passages

Case #0020406, Harold Silvana Release date: September 8th, 2016 First listen: 6th November, think it was still the walk home.

Where we see more of my goth son, Smirke’s name joins the blacklist in my mind, and in my messages with dodgylogic, Leitner’s name is autocorrected to all caps for the first time, a feature that endures still. Also that start of my conspiracy theory board entitled ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS UNDER LONDON?’

- Harold Silvana is a name we’ve already heard in passing, back in MAG024 where Sasha was hunting down the police reports for the incident. That was recorded somewhere between mid March and very early April, and it is now mid July. So investigation and research on this case has taken maybe four months, possibly longer, before it is fit for recording and archiving. I don’t know if that can be used as a bench mark for how long the process typically takes, because there is a lot going on in this one. It’s one I like to refer to as a ‘fear goulash’ statement; there’s a lot of flavours up in here.

- The Reform Club, Pall Mall. It’s just north of Westminster, with in spitting distance of Buckingham Palace and No. 10 Downing Street. Looking at the map, there’s an area of London, about 3 miles across, on the north side of the river, that has Pall Mall, Millbank, Chelsea and the seat of British power that just has all sorts of bad vibes rattling about…

- ‘I’m a builder. Sort of… In simple terms it’s not much different to any other sort of construction work, except it takes about three times as long and costs ten times as much.’ First impressions, I like him. He feels like an up front sort of character, and while he has to play the games and use the lingo, he feels like a grounded person.

- ‘…me and my team are worth every penny.’ He’s got a team, acknowledging the team. We love to see it.

- ‘And the sort of people I deal with, or should I say the sort of people whose personal assistants I deal with, can afford it.’ Ah yes, we are talking London money aren’t we. Central London money.

- Release the antique smut poems, V&A Museum! You cowards!

- ‘… so we could only actually come out of the basement when it wasn’t full of people too important to see builders.’ Urgh, God. Can’t believe the ‘below stairs’ mentality persists in today’s society but here we are… Not quite the same, but kinda reminds me of the 2 summers I was interning at a falconry breeding centre and the vast majority of the birds were being bred for the market in the Arab Peninsula. So the emir would send his men over to look at the birds and select the ones they wanted and all the women had be be else where, out of sight. So we all agreed it was fucking stupid and took the paid afternoon off we were given.

- I’m trying to work out how the listing system works and it all looks a bit subjective to me. Grade Is are defined a ‘buildings of exceptional interest’, and structures get ranked on age and rarity, aesthetic merit, selectivity, and national interest amongst other things. Being a Grade I puts you on par with Blackpool Tower, the Cenotaph, York Minster, and the Tower of London to name but a few.

- ‘It was about two in the morning when the kid showed up.’ Ooof… having to completely adjust your sleep schedule for these rich fucks, ugh. Also, my sweet boy.

- ‘I think he must have forgotten to lock the door when he headed out, and that’s how the kid got in.’ Even if that is the case, you know Gerry has a set of lock pick on him and is well practised at using them, even at this age.

- ‘…this was still the first week in March and it was pretty cold’ and Gerry is there in a t-shirt.

- ‘His hair was long and greasy, almost down to his shoulders, and looked to be dyed almost the same black as his clothes.’ The attacks on my son’s hair started early… I am begging someone, anyone at the institute, please take my boy to a salon and let them do it right for him. Let someone pamper him for a brief snippet of time.

- While this instinct was coming from the wrong place the decision ‘to be gentle in my initial enquiries’ may have bought him a little bit of grace. Out right aggression may have made it all much messier.

- We’re getting crumbs of Leitner lore. ‘A businessman from Norway.’ I was still somewhat naive as to who Leitner was, but in my chat’s with dodgylogic, I’d sent something along the lines of ‘part of me hopes Leitner is just a normal weird white guy with far too much money and a perverted sense of curiosity and just doesn’t give a damn about the rest of society, because to be honest I can’t think of anything more scary in this world right now.’ I wrote during the US 2020 election week. I feel the sentiment stands.

- ‘I don’t know what his business was…’ I imagine he was in the business of business.

- ‘Portly, middle-aged, short blond hair in the middle of going grey, well-tailored business suit.’… How small would you say his hands were?

- ‘He smiled an odd little smile as he said it, which put me a bit on edge.’ uncomfortable noises

- Next comes a paragraph of ‘he began to get shifty’, lying about permissions and protocol, got ‘very defensive’, when they’re going to go over his head he ‘started screaming that we didn’t understand what we were talking about, that he didn’t need to explain himself to the likes of us’, and, oh yes, this feels familiar…

- ‘… this teenage burnout turned up’. I legit put my hand over my heart and made an affronted noise. So rude about my goth son.

- ‘‘Can you smell it?’ he said, and for a brief moment, I could smell something.’ Once again, l’eau de creepy shit strikes again. Follow your nose to where nobody goes. Follow that smell to find personal hell. Follow the odour for a mental off-roader… I think I’m out. Nope, wait, follow the scent for a psyche descent.

- ‘…with a swing stronger than I would have thought possible from his age and skinny frame.’ My boy is scrappy. When you are fighting eldritch horrors for your life on the regs, you probably develop some functional strength.

- ‘… listening to his CD player and waiting.’ Ah, the early ‘00s. Though, you would have had to wrestle my Walkman away from me, audio books are one of the few things that kept me sane in my early teens.

- The universe of The Magnus Archives, defined as ‘this stuff’ by one, Gerard Keay.

- ‘…but Alf was always too curious for his own good.’ And that’s all The Entities need. One weak link, one moment of curiosity.

- ‘We had plenty of torches…so we each took one large one and a smaller back-up in case the first had any problems.’ Smart. Smart bunnies.

- Seeing as Gerard was the one to put them on to this, I don’t quite know how they thought they had any real reason to stop him at this stage, even if they could. Gerard was the most clued in person in that room.

- ‘…mid-19th century’ would put us at around the same time The Magnus Institute moved from Edinburgh to London, in 1841 and the Carlton Club, quick look up and it’s a private members club and the original home of, oh God, home of the Conservative Party… That explains a thing or two.

- ‘Alf kept asking Rachel if the corridor was getting narrower, and every time, she would dutifully measure the width and inform him that, no, it was exactly five feet wide.’ A woman of rationality and science, I like her.

- ‘I counted thirteen.’ ROLL CALL!

‘I’ve never had any sort of claustrophobia, but I was finding it hard, at points to catch my breath, to dismiss the feeling that the walls were pressing on me.’ The Buried.

‘There was one that, for all the world, it felt like I was going to fall into it.’ I’m going to say The Vast.

‘Another was so dark that our torches didn’t seem to reach more than a few feet inside.’ The Dark.

 ‘…flashes of a pile of paper, completely covered in cobweb,’ The Web.

‘…a figure stood in the darkness, a stranger I didn’t know but was sure meant me harm,’ The Stranger

- ‘…my skin burning, hot, choking on smoke down there in the dark.’ The Desolation.

- ‘Robert Smirke, 1835. Balance and fear.’ Ok, so that gives us 6 years before The Magnus Archives moves to London. 14 years after Millbank was completed.

- I can’t remember why, but I did vaguely remember the name ‘Robert Smirke’ when I first heard it from Jonathan, I can only assume I’d heard it on a documentary somewhere. I’m one of those folks; I won’t watch a movie, I’ll trawl BBC iPlayer or YouTube for a documentary that takes my fancy.

- ‘…often described as ‘theatrical’. Of course he fucking was, he ran in the same circles as Jonah Magnus, of course he was extra a fuck. And he designed the British Museum and the Carlton Club? All just one big, messy, imperialist, conservative ouroboros that instead of eating its’ own tail, it’s sucking its’ own dick.

- ‘We stood there for some time as I explained this to the others.’ Info dump time, my friend.

- Which tunnel did you pick Gerard? Which one were you seeking?

- Tunnel was damper, and the walls seemed ‘oddly slimy’, when Hoard fell his hand ‘came away faintly tinged with red’, ‘lights up ahead’. I’m not sure which, but I’d put money on either The Slaughter or The Flesh. Oh wait no, ‘lights up ahead’, maybe The End?

- ‘He was only a skinny kid, but he was so strong, and kept his footing.’ When you’re fuelled with knowledge and a will to survive, you’re make of hardy stuff.

- Is this the book that we see Mary Kaey with in MAG004? The one that shed small animal bones?

- ‘It makes me feel sick, though, like we’re just abandoning Alf, dishonouring his memory.’ Ooof, buddy. The cover up, the power, the money, the privilege, urgh. I’m sorry, bud.

- I can see why The Reform Club don’t want to talk, but I wonder my Howard Silvana now doesn’t want to discus it? Might go a ways to explain why this investigation has taken a while as Sasha has been trying to speak to people for ‘the last three months.’

- So Jurgen Leitner was ‘one of the premier worldwide dealers in rare and antique books’. Aok, so he did have a career in business that wasn’t only shady shit.

- ‘… I can’t help but wonder whether that was where they were found, or just where they were stored.’ Reminds me of a question that was asked about Leitner books in a Q&A session and Jonny’s answer was along the lines of ‘you’re assuming a Leitner book needs to be written.’

- ‘Architecture is one of his specialist areas,’ Tim has such hidden depths, I love him.

- What the fuck does “A master of subtle stability” even mean? Is it code for ‘unhinged bitch fucking with power you don’t wanna find out’?

- ‘...Smirke’s buildings have higher percentages of reported paranormal sightings than any other architect of similar profile.’ You don’t say…

- Jon calling for Martin like that, like he’s calling a dog to heel…

- And the demon cockney delivery drivers lie in wait… They clock the tape recorder on, can they feel The Web’s influence coming off of it, or is it just that they noticed?

- I love their delivery, like it’s one thought and one breath split across 2 people. They really are a matching set, makes it all the more tragic after season 3.

[thisdaywasfun]

I’m like a month late ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Name: James

Sign: Gemini ♊

Height: 5′4 

Current time: 00:08

Birthday: June 20th

Fav band/artist: Currently Mystery Skulls / Cafuné

Last movie: Thor Love and Thunder. It was not good 🙃

Last show: Rewatching Futurama 

Blog created: 2011 oh god I hate this.

What I post: Oh its all men because I have no self control (horny) constantly trying to reblog more art/photography and failing.

Last googled: Passenger Arknights because I wanna upgrade him next. This is not interesting.

Other blogs: Friskydays is my porn blog.

Do you get asks:  “My horny send pictture of your dick” is the last one I received. I wish I was joking but I get weird porn blog asks because bulge pics I guess. Very rarely normal people though 😔

Following: 451

Followers: 9808 but im pretty sure 90% are inactive because I joined in fucking 2011

Sleep schedule: Bad

Do you play instruments: Used to play clarinet years ago, I can still taste the reeds 😩 wind instruments are disgusting.

Currently wearing: Hoodie and a jock because drinking and its comfortable.

Dream job: I dont need an existential crisis tonight thank you.

Dream trip:  Have a few American friends i want to bang vist other than that I crave an actual good fresh baguette & havent been to France since I was a teenager. I’m very food focused.

Nationality: British 

Fav song: Currently Victim Lover - Broken Social Scene

Thanks for the tag though @persistent-wallflower 😘

[sinfull-lifestyle]

I got tagged by @bvrgundybxtch cheers! ☺️

Name: Ronan

Sign: Leo 🦁

Height: 5’6 ( I think)

Current time: 10:35pm

Birthday: 11th August

Favourite Band/ Artists: Amy Winehouse, Sam Cooke, ABBA, Frankie Valli & the 4 Seasons, SZA, Summer Walker, Kehlani, Bad Bunny, Rosalía, Popcaan, Collie Buddz + lots more

Last Movie: The Hobbit 1,2,3

Last Show: (Lord of The Rings) Ring of Power

Blog Created: 2013/14?

What I Post: Mainly art, cottagewhore 😉, men, shit humour and quotes sometimes for anyone needing reassurance etc.

Last Google: Types of Musical notes - It was so I could cheat on a game lol

Other Blogs: 0

Do you get asks: Very rare occasion lol

Following: 949

Followers: 2,461

Sleep Schedule: Normally 1/2am - 7/9am (depends if I’m working from home + varies if I nap lol)

Do you play any Instruments: I wish

Currently wearing: Pyjamas with 👄 on lol

Dream Job: Interior Designer/ Fashion Stylist

Dream Trip: A trip around Italy 🇮🇹

Nationality: British 🇬🇧

Favourite Song: Will you still love me tomorrow by Amy Winehouse

Last Book: The Witcher

Tag, you’re it @youareamemory @jparadox @powerbottom @honeyed-heliophile @awrtx @bryanrl @otpcruiseliner @zaksmiles

[evermoreholland]

Falling | Professor!Tom

PROFESSOR!TOM X STUDENT!READER

summary: you couldn’t help but fall for your professor

warnings: student/teacher relationship

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i can’t help but be so proud of this fic. i have never written something like this before and i’m so thankful that tom looked so gorgeous in that interview omg and inspired this! hope you like it <3

It’s Monday morning of the first day of the semester. Your feet hurt. You have walked for what feels like hours but in actuality was only around 20 minutes. You didn’t expect the walk across campus to be so torturous. It was hot outside and you, being the cozy and almost lazy person you were, wore a sweatshirt instead of fitting the weather. You instantly regretted scheduling your British History class at 8am. You were tired and you should have known not to schedule a morning class.

You walked up the stairs to enter the History department building and made your way to your classroom. You walked across the hall for a couple of minutes, searching for the designated room. You were about 5 minutes early, wanting to make sure you had time in case you got lost on the way across campus. You pushed open the door to reveal an almost empty classroom, only a couple of students already there. You made your way into the room to find a desk, muttering a quiet “hello” to the professor whom you haven’t gotten a chance to look at yet.

“Good morning,” he greeted. His thick British accent filled the room. Once you placed your books down and took a seat in the front of the room, you looked up to see the professor who would be teaching you this semester. His name was Professor Thomas Holland. Brown eyes and curly brown hair. A nice smile. A black lightweight turtleneck clung to his torso and he gave the few students in the room the brightest smile you have ever seen from a professor. You have only heard a few things about Professor Holland. He was young and well-accomplished. Most if not all people loved him and thought he was an outstanding professor.

Professor Holland walked towards your desk and you averted your eyes away from him. New teachers always scared you. Meeting new people was often terrifying, especially if it’s someone as accomplished as your professor. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Professor Holland.”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. You couldn’t understand how a professor could be quite this young. He looked to be around 26 if you were guessing. “Nice to meet you, Professor.”

“Likewise,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to having you in my class.” He took a moment to run his fingers through his hair. He turned his head when a group of students walked into the classroom. “Looks like we’ll be starting soon. I hope you end up liking British History, Y/N.”

Professor Holland walked over to greet the rest of his new students and then began teaching the lesson. The lecture passed by slowly. You participated a lot at the beginning of the seminar, but towards the end, you began to slip away a bit. You enjoyed listening to Professor Holland speak so passionately about British History but you were exhausted because of your lack of sleep from the night before.

After about an hour Professor Holland said, “Class dismissed.” You got up and collected your supplies before leaving the classroom. Just as you were about to leave, Professor Holland approached you by the door. “Can I speak with you for a second, Y/N?”

“Of course, Professor,” you replied quietly. To be quite honest, you were scared to speak with your professor one-on-one. Maybe he had noticed that you were not paying much attention during the end of class. You didn’t think that Professor Holland would be rude to you, but confrontation wasn’t usually a fun time.

The man pulled a chair towards his desk before sitting down himself on the opposite side. “Have a seat, Y/N.”

You walked to the chair quickly and sat down giving all of your attention to your professor. “Is everything alright, Y/N?” Professor Holland asked, arms crossed over his chest. His voice was gentle and his company inviting. “You seemed to be zoned out towards the end of class today. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“My apologies, Professor,” you said shyly.

“My class wasn’t too boring, right?” He joked. He reached over to grab his cup of what you assumed was tea and took a sip. His long slender fingers grasped onto the cup as he took another sip and placed it down. It was hard not to stare at someone as attractive as him. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you felt an attraction towards your history professor.

“Not at all,” you said.

“Then what seems to be the issue? You can talk to me, Y/N. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here,” he reassured you. You had never expected this type of interaction to happen between you and a professor. Most people wouldn’t care that you were zoning out in class, but Professor Holland did.

“I just didn’t sleep well last night,” you said nervously. “But I did enjoy your class nonetheless.”

“I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed my class, Y/N,” he said and then got up from his chair, and you followed his actions and got up yourself. “University means no sleep so I get it. Coffee and tea do wonders, though.”

“Noted,” you laughed and he followed suit. “Thank you, Professor Holland.”

“No worries,” he said as he led you to the door. “If you need help reviewing the rest of the notes, I’d be happy to meet with you sometime. Your ideas in class were incredible. I’d love to hear more from you,” he complimented.

“Thank you, Professor. I would really appreciate that.”

“My office is on the second floor. Room 203. How does tonight at 7 sound?”

“Sounds great. Thank you,” you said and then left. You were grateful that Professor Holland wanted to go over the notes with you. You also felt a pang of excitement consume you. You didn’t understand completely why though. He was your professor and that was it. It doesn’t matter how insanely attractive he is, he is your educator and nothing more than that.

You went to the rest of your lectures for the day, none of them being as interesting as Professor Holland’s was and no one nearly being as attractive as he was. You went back to your dorm room after your last class to do some assignments, eat, and change before meeting with your professor. You decided on wearing a light short-sleeved shirt and some jeans, much different than what you were wearing to class this morning. You let your hair down, grabbed your books and notes, and made your way to Professor Holland’s office.

To say that you were feeling nervous may have seemed weird, but it was true. You approached the history department and you let out a breath that you had been holding. You took the stairs to the second floor. You walked down the halls to find your professor’s office and made it out to be the only room with its lights on. You knocked on the door about three times. You heard shuffling footsteps from the other side of the door. Professor Holland opened the door and gave you a bright smile.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted sweetly. Tom was wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans, unlike what he wore this morning during class. “Come in.”

“Thank you for reviewing the notes with me, Professor,” you said as you walked further into his office. “My pleasure,” he muttered.

“Y/N, do me a favor?” Professor Holland said as you both sat down at his desk. “Cut the formalities when we’re one-on-one together. Call me Tom.”

“Alright, Tom,” you said, his name almost foreign on your tongue. “Are you sure that’s appropriate though?”

“Maybe not,” he laughed. “But Professor Holland makes me feel old, and I’m only 26.” You pulled out your notebook from your bag while Tom opened up his computer to view the slideshow. “How did you become so accomplished at such a young age?”

Tom laughed and put his arms behind his head, getting comfortable. Almost. “That’s a story for another time, darling.”

You almost felt butterflies in your stomach by hearing him call you that. “Okay, Professor Holl- I mean, Tom.”

“Why don’t we get started, shall we?”

You both reviewed the notes for around an hour. Casual small talk filled the room whenever you would write things down in your notebook. Tom was intelligent, but you already knew that. He was charming, sweet, and most importantly, he made you feel comfortable in his presence. He never made you feel stupid whenever you were confused about something or when you would ask a question. Once you were finished reviewing the notes, Tom gave some extra material in case you wanted to review. “Let me get one more book for you that I’d think you’d enjoy.”

He got up from his desk and made his way to the bookshelf in the back of the room. He picked up the old book and gave it to you with a smile. “Keep it as long as you need. It’s really good, and I’m not that much of a reader so that’s saying something.” You couldn’t help but absolutely love Tom’s smile. The way his eyes crinkled and the way his skin glowed made you feel more attracted to him. You grabbed the book from him and your fingers brushed together slightly. The butterflies came back again.

“Thank you, Tom. Thank you for everything. Again,” you giggled. “My pleasure, Y/N.”

A few seconds of comfortable silence filled the room until Tom said, “It’s getting pretty late, darling. I have some papers to grade and you should get back to your place.”

“Sorry for keeping you, Professor.” You felt that it was appropriate to go back to formalities, even though you didn’t want to.

“Don’t feel bad, Y/N. I’d love to talk to you. Hopefully, we could do this again sometime.”

“Thank you, Professor. Have a good night.”

“Same to you.”

You didn’t know how to feel. Was Professor Holland being too casual with you? It was only the first day of his class and you already have been in his office. You knew that even a friendly relationship with your professor could be risky. You didn’t want to get Tom into any trouble, no matter how nice getting to be with him sounded to you.

--

Four weeks passed by. You participated in lectures frequently. You hadn’t stepped foot into Tom’s office since the first day. You wanted to spend time with him but it felt informal to do so if you genuinely didn’t have any questions about the material.

Tom dismissed class for the morning and he stopped before you could leave the classroom. “Y/N, I’d just like to talk to you about your paper. Can you spare an hour?”

“Of course, Professor.”

“Let’s head to my office upstairs,” Tom said. You both made your way up to his office together. Tom locked the door behind him and pulled out a chair for you to sit at. “Y/N, let me be honest with you,” he started.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You asked embarrassingly. You spent hours working on that paper but you did do it when you were extremely exhausted.

“The exact opposite actually,” Tom clarified. “Your essay was really well written. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You were shocked, really.

“Excuse me?” You asked quietly and Tom’s face fell.

“I totally read this wrong, didn’t I?” Tom put his face in his hands, obviously stressed out and overwhelmed. “Shit, I’m screwed.”

“Tom, calm down. I’m just confused.”

“I just thought we could talk but now that I’m realizing it, I’m being very inappropriate, aren’t I?” Tom got up from his seat and began pacing around the room. “Tom, it’s okay. Let’s just talk about the extra course material you gave to me the other week.” Tom was glad that you were able to be so cool about the situation and switch subjects fairly quickly.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You talked about the book you had read from Tom’s collection. Tom continued to be amazed by your insight and intelligence and he couldn’t help but feel a connection between the two of you, even if it was forbidden to pursue.

“Overall, I really liked the book. It had a very interesting perspective about the war. Thanks, Tom,” you concluded.

“No worries, Y/N. Seriously anytime,” he replied gently. He picked up the book that you borrowed and went to put it back on the shelf where it previously sat. “Want another book to read?”

“Sure.” Tom picked up another book and brought it to you. “This one is ahead of where we’re at in class but I think you can handle it,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” you said as you grabbed the book from him. You met his eyes and he was already looking at you. His jaw clenched when you met his gaze but not in an aggressive manner. It seemed like he was nervous and conflicted. “Everything alright, Tom?” You couldn’t help but ask him.

“Y-yeah,” he stumbled over his words nervously. “You’re just really bright, Y/N.” Coming from someone as accomplished as Tom, his compliment meant a lot to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you replied shyly. “You too.” You stood up to meet his gaze. You were face-to-face and you could almost feel his raging heartbeat. You felt the tension in the air and you could have sworn that Tom briefly glanced towards your lips. He took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. You grabbed his cheek and his mouth went agape.

“Too much, Professor?” You whispered. He shook his head and closed the gap between the two of you. He kissed you with intensity, something that you had been longing for. He wrapped his arms gently around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You continued to kiss him, your hand moving along to his curly brown locks to playfully tug at them, but he finally came to his senses and pulled away from you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Professor?” You looked at him with innocent eyes. “I wanted that just as much as you did.”

“You’re my student, Y/N. No matter how much I enjoyed that, it can never happen again.”

“Okay, Tom. Whatever you say,” you grabbed the book he gave you and put it in your bag. You slung the bag over your shoulder and began to leave his office. Your hand was on the doorknob but then Tom stopped you. “Wait.”

“Yes, Professor Holland?” You turned around to look at him.

“Stop with the formalities and come here,” Tom said. You made your way back to him. “Yes, Tom?”

“Promise me you can keep a secret?” He didn’t need anyone knowing about this if it were to go any further, and boy, did he want it to go further.

“I’ll have you know, Tom, that I’m full of many mysteries,” you whispered as your hand found your way back into his hair. “This can just be another one.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Y/N,” he said and then kissed you. It was probably the most intense kiss you had ever experienced. This was wrong which made it feel so much hotter.

He pulled away to kiss along your neck. “This is wrong,” he mumbled.

“Then why are you still kissing me, Professor?” He looked up to you and stared into your eyes.

“Because I’m falling for you, and that feels right.”