#my back of the knee was wayyyyy worse

[allium-phyrzz]

chest tattoos are so fucking cool im very glad i have one now

[eskalations]

"I wouldn't tell anyone just yet." The doctor advised her in a gentle tone, seeing the pallor of her skin. The older woman put a hand on her knee in what she assumed was an attempt at a comforting gesture. "Pregnancies at this age rarely make it."

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: So this idea popped into my head wayyyyy before the events of the first chapter did - however, I held out on writing this one down! I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for reading!

~

"Mama!" Elizabeth shouted as she bounced excitedly down the steps of the daycare. Riza could feel her heart clench as she watched her daughter's delicate sandals slide haphazardly on her feet, the mother fearing the young girl would trip if she didn't slow down in those shoes. However, Elizabeth made it safely to the ground.

Riza breathed a sigh, glad to have her daughter in front of her once again. She had certainly missed the sweet child.

"Elizabeth, you have to be careful." The woman crouched down to meet her daughter's gaze, using a hand to push an errant strand of black hair behind her ear. "We don't run down stairs. You know that you aren't allowed to do that in the house, either."

With Elizabeth's normally demure nature, Riza thought the girl would quiet after being chastised, but that was not the case. Instead of flashing a pout – reminiscent of her father's – Elizabeth smiled even brighter.

"I'm sorry, Mama!" She chirped, bouncing up on the balls of her feet, tiny hands gripping the straps of her little pink backpack. "I'm excited! Miss Helen is so pretty!"

Having met the young girl's new teacher less than a month back, Riza nodded her head in agreement. She grabbed the little girl's hand as they made their way back home. The five-year-old could barely contain her excitement as she talked animatedly about her day.

It had been a hard decision for her and Roy to enroll their daughter into an educational daycare separate from Central Headquarters. Both had always had a certain peace of mind knowing that their sweet girl was being taken care of just a few floors down, but life inevitably had to keep moving forward and Riza was learning that the hard way.

Two weeks after they had decided to allow their child to attend Central Children's Daycare, Riza had received some startling news.

She was pregnant at forty-one years of age.

The doctor had been shocked – she had been shocked – but it shouldn't have been much of a surprise. Due to their age, she and Roy hadn't bothered with any form of protection in the last year. It had taken them awhile to fall pregnant with Elizabeth, so they felt they had no real reason to worry at this stage in their life. Turns out, they were wrong.

Once Riza started feeling ill, the thought never even crossed her mind. The sickness in this pregnancy spanned the whole day, whereas with Elizabeth, she had only had it in the morning. Roy had guessed she had the flu and insisted she visit the doctor, which after a full week of vomiting daily, she finally agreed to.

That's when they received the news.

Riza had been numb – a familiar rushing in her ears blocking out the words of her physician. She could hardly believe what she had just been told. As her doctor listed out the possible risks for her falling pregnant at such a mature age, Riza could feel herself getting more and more nauseous at the thought of it.

"I wouldn't tell anyone just yet." The doctor advised her in a gentle tone, seeing the pallor of her skin. The older woman put a hand on her knee in what she assumed was an attempt at a comforting gesture. "Pregnancies at this age rarely make it."

Would she even have a child at the end of this?

Roy had been over the moon – disregarding all the risks that came along with the unplanned pregnancy. Just as he had been for her pregnancy with Elizabeth, the moment he knew, he became her second shadow. It was annoying, more so than the first go around, but when she caught glimpses of the worried look in his eye, she let him do as he pleased.

Riza watched as Elizabeth very nearly skipped down the sidewalk, going on and on about how Miss Helen's father worked in the hospital and how she had thought it was amazing that Elizabeth wanted to work in the same place. The man didn't practice Alkahestry but apparently Elizabeth's teacher had been impressed that the little girl knew what it was.

"I told her about Mama!" Elizabeth pointed at the woman holding her hand, her grammar and sentence structure not as great as it would be in a few years, but still Riza understood. "I told her about the accident."

The First Lady nodded her head, smiling down at the girl. When the child's attention strayed from her though, she couldn't help the slight frown that made its way to her features.

She still didn't know what to think of the young girl's interest in alchemy.

Riza should have known it would happen sooner or later, given the lineage she came from. Not only was Elizabeth's father a renowned alchemist, but her grandfather had been as well. In some strange way, alchemy must run in their blood. It had certainly skipped over Riza, the woman never caring much for the science, but from the moment she watched her daughter's eyes light up at the doctor's ministrations, she knew Elizabeth had been bit hard by the 'alchemy bug'.

Her and Roy had not discussed it much since they knew children at this age were subject to change. Elizabeth's favorite color changed near weekly, so who's to say this wouldn't change as well. She could end up completely detesting alchemy by the time she hit her teens.

Riza seriously doubted it though.

"Mama?" The girl tugged on her mother's hand, fighting for her attention. Beside them, on the road, a car breezed past, breaking Riza from her thoughts. She pulled the child in tighter, hugging her to her side.

"I'm listening, Elizabeth."

The golden tones of the setting sun fell over her daughter's small features. Riza could see the worry behind the crease in the girl's brow and the pout forming on her pink lips.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked softly, excitement forgotten. Riza's heart clenched once more at her daughter's distraught look. She could hear a slight shaking in her voice, signaling that tears were not far off.

Sometimes she forgot how in tune her daughter was to the emotions around her. If anyone's demeanor changed in even the slightest way, Elizabeth would pick up on it. She was very sensitive to her environment, and though he would never admit it, Riza felt like that was something she had inherited from her father. Both were highly emotional people, just in different ways.

Diffusing the situation, Riza crouched down on the sidewalk, ignoring the looks of the pedestrians walking past them, and grabbed her daughter in an affectionate hug. The girl gratefully returned the gesture.

Snuggling her face into her mother's neck, Elizabeth whispered worriedly. "Is it my baby sister?"

Riza sighed at the question, picking the girl up off her feet and placing her on her hip.

"No, Elizabeth – it's not the baby."

She hadn't wanted to tell her daughter of her condition until she was at least five months into the pregnancy. Her doctor had told her to be cautious for a minimum of twelve weeks, but to take great precaution even after that. Knowing how emotional Elizabeth was, Riza didn't want her child to have to go through the heartbreak of losing a sibling if that's how it all ended.

Roy had agreed – but subconsciously, Elizabeth hadn't.

Their daughter was smart. While her words and grammar were still those of a young child, her emotional intelligence was far beyond her years. She could tell something was wrong with her mother. No matter how many times Riza tried to convince her that she had a stomach bug and was just feeling under the weather, the girl wouldn't buy it.

The situation had gotten so bad that Elizabeth had taken to joining her and Roy in their bed almost nightly. This confused both her parents as Elizabeth had never had much trouble sleeping on her own and rarely caused a fuss at night. When asked why she was fearful of sleeping in her own room, she had asked a question that absolutely broke Riza's heart.

"Is Mama dying?"

She had said it with tears in her eyes, lip wobbling as she curled into her mother's side and shoved her face roughly into her neck. Her behavior had worried her parents so much, that they decided to break their silence on the subject, sharing with Elizabeth that in less than seven months, she would become a big sister.

After that, Elizabeth had no problem sleeping in her room once again.

Now, five months into her pregnancy, Riza was feeling better about things. Elizabeth had enjoyed her first day at her new daycare, the morning sickness was gone, Roy was working on drafting up a new trade policy with Aerugo, things were looking up.

As they sat at dinner that night, Riza watching Roy listen raptly to their daughter's rehashing of her day, the woman couldn't help but think to herself that nothing could ruin this moment in her life.

Unfortunately, she was wrong.

Barely in to her sixth month of pregnancy, Riza retrieved her daughter from school and noticed an immediate difference in the girl's usual happy demeanor.

"Elizabeth?" Riza had asked as they began their walk home. She waved at the little elderly woman who sat on her doorstep, greeting the children as they were released from 'school'. Riza looked down and noticed that Elizabeth hadn't even bothered to raise her hand. Something must have happened, that wasn't like her daughter at all. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

The girl was strangely silent, her dark eyes staring at the sidewalk in front of her. Knowing these kind of situations were only made worse by prying, Riza decided to let her decide when she was going to come forward with what was bothering her.

By the time they reached their home, Elizabeth still had not said a word. Looking back at the two guards who accompanied her everyday on her walk – something she had only agreed to due to her pregnancy – she could see they were just as confused by the young child's behavior as she was. They were used to watching the mother struggle to curb the young girl's excitement and now today she had barely bothered to even look up.

More surprising was Elizabeth's reaction when she walked through the door.

It was evening, so Roy was already home for the afternoon. Knowing that Riza's feet had been bothering her, he had offered to start dinner for her so she wouldn't have to stand for long. Hearing his two favorite girls enter the hall, Roy turned the stove down to simmer before poking his head out of the kitchen.

"Hi Lizzie." The Fuhrer called, gifting the child with a sweet smile. Riza knew he still missed having their daughter at Headquarters, the man having made it a habit to visit her every day on his lunch break – however, he had been happy to see how much fun his daughter was having learning at her new daycare. He loved getting to hear about her day. "Did you enjoy daycare today?"

Elizabeth's brows drew inward, her expression growing darker as she continued to stare at the ground in front of her. Riza, still holding her hand, shared an uncertain look with Roy. Neither adult knew exactly what had gotten into their daughter.

Without another word, Elizabeth let go of her mother's hand, trudging up the stairs to her room with her backpack still over her shoulders. Roy couldn't hide his surprise as the sound of their daughter slamming her door echoed through the hall. Riza's face wasn't much different than his own.

"What happened?" There was a certain fire in the man's eyes that the woman recognized far too well. It was the same look he got whenever something – or someone – threatened anyone who was of great importance to him. "Did something happen at the daycare?"

"I don't know." Riza answered truthfully. She moved to free herself from her outer coat, the days getting chillier, but her husband beat her to it. She could feel the tension in his hands as he slid the fabric from her shoulders. "She pouted the whole way home."

Roy's brow furrowed, much in the way their daughter's had. Despite her worry, Riza couldn't help the soft laugh that erupted from her lips.

"She reminds me of someone else I know."

The comment had Roy rolling his eyes as he placed her coat on the rack. When he turned back around, his face softened. Riza imagined it was because his gaze had fallen squarely on her swollen stomach.

"Maybe this one will be more like you." Roy sighed, placing a gentle hand on the crest of her belly. The baby had been moving, but he had yet to feel it. Riza placed her own hand on top of his. "I don't think I could handle another 'me'."

Riza laughed at his lament, squeezing his fingers. "Imagine how I feel!"

"I know." Roy smirked, his thumb rubbing a circle above her belly. "I thank whoever will listen daily that I have you in my life."

Riza gave him another smile before turning towards the kitchen, determined to help him finish dinner. She knew he would argue, saying that he could finish it on his own, but she actually enjoyed the act of getting to cook with him. It gave them some time to talk – alone.

Well, as alone as two people could be with two guards always standing just outside their door.

"She's a very well-behaved child." Riza reminded him, lifting her apron over her head. She reached behind her to tie the strings, but Roy beat her to it. Lifting her hair, she continued as he tied the garment securely around her. "We could have ended up with children like the Havoc boys. Then you would have a little more to worry about than just a few grey hairs."

Roy snorted at the comment. "Poor Havoc and Rebecca. I don't know how they survived all these years."

He kissed the back of her neck as he finished, reaching around her to turn the dial of the burner up once again. Riza leaned back as he brought his other arm to wrap around her. Blame it on her pregnancy hormones, but she found herself craving her husband's touch more and more throughout the day. Roy didn't seem to mind at all – in fact, he was quite happy about it.

"I am worried." Riza admitted, leaning her head back on his shoulder. She could feel him tense at the remembrance of his daughter's sour mood. "I've never seen her so upset after daycare. I hope the kids aren't causing her any trouble."

Roy pursed his lips, trying hard to push down thoughts of showing up to her 'school' to teach said "bullies" a lesson. "I hope so too – for their sake, of course."

Riza rolled her eyes and swatted at his thigh. Roy knew better though; the woman was just as protective of their child as he was.

"Maybe she got in trouble with her teacher?" Riza proposed, giving him a sideways glance. Her amber eyes locked with his own, worry evident in her gaze. "You know how upset she gets when she's in trouble."

"Miss Helen's gone…"

The two adults separated at the sound of their daughter's voice. Turning around they saw her standing in the doorway, the evening sun that poured through the window, illuminating the wet trails that kissed the skin of her cheeks. Already she had changed into pajamas, the shirt not matching the pants, but the little girl too upset to care.

The sight broke her parents' hearts.

"Lizzie," Roy murmured gently, making his way to the now trembling girl. Riza stayed by the stove to keep an eye on their dinner – her mind, however, was with her daughter. The mother watched as Roy scooped the girl up and into his arms, cradling her close to his chest.

With her father holding her like a baby, Elizabeth's composure broke. Wrapping her small arms around the man's neck, the young girl buried her warm face into the shoulder of his button-down. A few moments later, choking sobs could be heard.

There was a stricken look on Roy's face as he patted the distraught child's back, sharing a concerned look with Riza. "Lizzie, I'm sorry Miss Helen is gone."

Turning the burner down to simmer once more, Riza chose to join her husband and child in the doorway of the kitchen.

"She didn't say goodbye!" Elizabeth very nearly wailed, her voice shaking as she turned her dark eyes towards her father, the pain evident in their depths. "She left. She left."

Riza raised her hand and rested it over her husband's on their daughter's back. Roy had already started bouncing the girl, attempting to get her to calm down. Riza could see he was at a loss for words, so she decided to step in.

"I bet she had a good reason for leaving." Riza's hand slipped from Roy's to run through her daughter's dark locks. Her hair was getting so long now that it was almost past the middle of her back. It was tangled from the fit the child had probably just thrown in her room moments before. "The good thing is that you'll get a new teacher who will be just as special."

At her mother's words, Elizabeth's face returned to her father's shoulder and the sobs began again. Roy's eyes widened at her response.

"Hey…" The man mumbled into her ear, continuing to bounce as her trembling returned with vigor. Riza removed her hand from the girl's hair, which was then replaced with Roy's. His fingers gently held the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into her skin. "Lizzie, you need to calm down. You'll love your new teacher just as much."

"She…She…" Elizabeth tried to say, but her sobs were causing her to shake too much. Roy waited as she caught her breath, still shushing her between bounces. "She don't like me."

The adults were too surprised by her words to bother correcting their child's grammar. They shared a look of disbelief before their gazes fell back to their daughter.

Their sweet, sensitive, perfect, daughter. The thought of anyone taking issue with the small child was truly a foreign concept to them. Surely, Elizabeth had misinterpreted something.

"Elizabeth," Riza stepped around Roy, meeting the eyes of her daughter over the curve of his shoulder. The girl's eyes were bloodshot and clear liquid still sat in pools at the bottom of her lids. If Riza wasn't careful, her pregnancy hormones were going to send her into a round of tears as well. "What are you talking about? There's no way your teacher couldn't like you."

Knowing the girl was as well-behaved as they came, and that the Havoc boys had all come out of that school unscathed and liked by each of their teachers, Roy had to agree with his wife. He nodded in a show of support for the statement, pressing a gentle hand to the head of his daughter.

Their agreeance did very little to calm Elizabeth's fears. While her breathing was no longer labored – a new set of tears fell down her cheeks. Propping her chin on her father's shoulder, the girl gazed at her mother sadly with big, black eyes.

"Trouble."

The one word had Riza sighing in relief, her earlier theory proven correct. Now knowing the reason behind the young girl's mood, the mother found herself bestowing a gentle smile on the child. Noticing the release of tension in Roy's shoulders, she could tell he was relieved as well.

"There's no reason to get so worked up over something like that." Riza brushed the bangs back from the girl's face, their tips wet from the earlier round of tears. "That doesn't mean your teacher doesn't like you. If you apologized for what you did, then I'm sure everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

Rather than giving her mother a smile in return, the furrow in Elizabeth's brow returned. Her arms tightened around Roy's neck, drawing herself closer to the chest of her father.

"I didn't do it."

Riza was surprised by this, Elizabeth not normally the one to strike up a defense. Their child was honest to a fault and was rarely able to get away with anything. The Havoc boys once teased that she was a notorious squealer whenever they would try and put their crazy plans in to action.

That's why her denial in this situation was so unusual.

"What do you mean, Lizzie?" Roy asked, turning his head so he could see his daughter's expression. His hand was still on her back, the warmth meant to encourage her to put her trust in him and reveal what was bothering her. "What did you get in trouble for?"

The furrow in her brows deepened, the tears forming in the lower portion of her eyes once more. "Stealing."

To say the two parents were surprised was an understatement.

"Stealing?" Riza asked for clarification. Elizabeth whimpered, nodding her head and hiding her eyes in her father's shoulder. "What did she say you stole?"

"Paper," Elizabeth mumbled, the words muffled by the fabric of Roy's shirt. The man ran his fingers through her hair, encouraging her to say more. "Timothy's paper."

"Did you take it?" The girl's mother asked, shifting closer to her husband and daughter. At her words, Elizabeth shook her head vehemently, looking up at her mother.

"No," Elizabeth answered honestly. Riza could see the genuine hurt in the young girl's eyes at the accusation. "I promise."

Roy patted the girl's back. "We believe you, Lizzie."

Riza nodded her head to show her support for her husband's statement. "We know you wouldn't steal. Your teacher doesn't know you that well, so it was probably a misunderstanding."

Elizabeth looked unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless.

After the discussion, the family went back to preparing dinner, Roy allowing their daughter to assist him in stirring the stew that sat on the stove. As Riza watched her husband and daughter make dinner, she couldn't shake the strange feeling that was nestled in her belly. She tried to brush off the interaction as a fluke, one that wouldn't be repeated in the future.

However, something told her this wasn't the last time her daughter would come home in tears over the actions of her new teacher.

~

Roy walked Elizabeth to daycare the next morning.

It was their daily ritual, since Riza usually finished her duties earlier in the afternoon and was able to do pickup. Besides, with Riza now pregnant, the woman tended to oversleep more often than naught in the mornings, making Roy the obvious choice as Elizabeth's chauffeur for drop-off.

The girl was quiet, gripping his hand tightly as they made their way down the sidewalk. The street was bustling with cars, the citizens of Central speeding down the pavement. There were a few honks and waves, all directed at the Fuhrer, which he gladly returned with a smile. However, once the act was over, his mouth would fall back into a frown as he watched his daughter stare glumly at the laces of her shoes.

Roy remained silent for the entirety of their journey. He knew that when he was down, the last thing he wanted was for people to try and cheer him up. Elizabeth would see, after attending school, that things were different from yesterday. That was the only thing at this point that could possibly raise her spirits.

With his two standard bodyguards behind them, Roy approached the small, white building that was the Central Children's Daycare. Already, there were many parents in the schoolyard, kissing their children goodbye and wishing them a good day at school. A few of the children waved at Elizabeth, to which she raised a tentative hand in response.

Roy smiled. His girl was still in there; she was just a little nervous.

Crouching down to her level, Roy adjusted the straps of her pink backpack over the shoulders of her lavender dress. "It's going to be fine, Lizzie."

His words were meant to be encouraging, but Elizabeth's frown grew. Her dark eyes peered resolutely at the ground in front of her, refusing to look up into the gentle eyes of her father. Knowing that there was little he could say to comfort the girl, he ruffled her hair before standing up, about ready to take his leave.

That's when he noticed something – or someone – from the corner of his eye.

Standing on the porch of the daycare, the door wide open for the children to make their way inside, stood a young woman. It wasn't the button-down or pencil skirt that caught the Fuhrer's attention, it was the piercing gaze and hateful expression.

With eyes as red as blood and hair as white as snow, it was obvious the woman was Ishvalan.

"That's Miss Abra."

The whisper came from behind his leg, Elizabeth having angled herself to hide behind him at the sight of her teacher. With those words, Roy could feel the bile rising in his throat.

Surely, this woman wasn't taking her hatred for him out on his child.

The bell rang out to signal the start of the 'school' day. The other children began filtering in, but Roy could feel Elizabeth's grip tighten on his military blues. Ignoring the eyes he could still feel boring into him, he patted her head in encouragement, trying not to allow himself to fear the worst. Elizabeth could usually pick up on emotions, so if he acted nervous, she would feel that way as well.

One of the other little girl's in her class, came bouncing over, blonde curls flying behind her as she excitedly grabbed for Elizabeth's hand. After sharing a look with her father, she allowed the other child to pull her away and into the school building.

Once all the children were inside, the young Miss Abra glanced once more at the Fuhrer, before following suit behind her students.

'Now this…' Roy thought to himself, slowly turning away from the building to rejoin his bodyguards. The men nodded at the Fuhrer as he once more took the lead. '…could potentially be a problem.'

That thought was the one he brought up with Riza that night as they lounged in bed. While he had told his wife upon arrival at Headquarters about catching a glimpse of Elizabeth's new teacher, he hadn't mentioned her Ishvalan heritage. Once Riza knew of this tidbit of information, her worry mirrored his.

Elizabeth hadn't been upset when her mother had picked her up from school – however, she hadn't been happy either. When asked if she had gotten in trouble again, the girl responded with a quiet 'no', but Riza could tell there was something else bothering her. Given her susceptibility to other's emotions, Riza now theorized that the young girl could probably sense the disdain her teacher felt for her.

"I guess our worries from before have proven to be valid."

Roy spoke quietly, knowing the Elizabeth was asleep just down the hall. The girl hadn't fought against her bedtime, but neither parent wanted to wake her in the midst of their discussion. It was one that they had always feared would come about, but that they hoped against all hope they wouldn't have to deal with.

How foolish they were.

With their bedside lamps still on, the couple regarded each other. Roy was in a pair of sleep pants, while Riza wore one of his larger, cotton button-downs. Anyone who looked in on the scene would see a pair of normal, run-of-the-mill parents – however, that was only half the story. Normal parents would never have to discuss the treatment their child was receiving due to the sins of their past.

Normal parents weren't murderers.

Riza rubbed her belly, feeling the child within beginning to wake with her lack of movement. "We knew this day would come. I think we became complacent somewhere along the way thinking it wouldn't."

Roy turned from his back to his side, reaching a hand out to lay next to Riza's on her stomach. It had become a part of their nightly routine for him to try and coax a kick out of their baby.

"I don't know what the right answer it." Roy admitted quietly, rubbing a thumb into the fabric of his old shirt. Riza's fingertips met his own, giving him the strength to continue. "I can't blame her for the hatred she has."

"No." Riza agreed, flashing a sad smile his way. The blonde fringe that hung over her forehead, drifted into her eyes as she looked down at the sheets between them. "I can't say I blame her either – it's justified."

"But to take it out on a child…"

"Roy," Riza stopped him, her amber eyes lifting and staring into his. He could see the ancient pain behind her gaze. "We killed innocent children in a fight that was meant to be amongst adults. I don't think it's fair of us to judge."

The man knew she was right.

"So what do we do?" He finally asked, rubbing his palm over her belly. He could have sworn he felt something, but couldn't say for sure. Perhaps, the baby was already cursing their parents for bringing it into an existence like this. An existence where they could possibly be hated. "Should we pull her from the daycare?"

Riza gave him an unimpressed look. While Roy would love to have his daughter back within the walls of Central Headquarters, they had sent her to Central Children's to get her ready for Primary School next year. She needed to be exposed to a school structure and to school lessons. It was paramount for her development.

"I don't think that's the answer." Riza voiced dryly, patting the top of his hand when he pouted. "You and I both know that she needs to start schooling. The Havoc children began early and so did the Elrics. I want her to have the best opportunities possible, especially since they're available to us."

Roy understood this since he wanted the same thing. "I know, but that still doesn't answer my question."

Riza sighed, knowing he was right. "I guess we should talk with the headmaster of the daycare and let her know our position. I'm sure they could move Elizabeth into another class."

"Away from her friends?" Roy asked sadly, hating the situation they had put their daughter in. Riza's look mirrored his own.

"Yes, away from her friends. I just don't see any other options. Let's give it a week and then make the decision."

The Fuhrer could agree to these terms, not wanting to jump the gun before giving this Miss Abra a chance. It wouldn't be fair to try and ask for her forgiveness by performing acts of repentance, if he wasn't willing to give her the same opportunity in return.

As if agreeing with the two adults' decision, the baby within Riza's womb kicked weakly against the wall of their mother's stomach. Roy's eyes widened in surprise as Riza's lips grew into a soft smile. He always had that look of wonder on his face when it came to their children.

"Did the baby just…?" The last part of the question drifted off as he stared pointedly at her stomach, his dark eyes practically begging the child to do it again. However, at this stage, Riza knew the baby wasn't going to be noticeably active often. She was happy though that Roy got to feel some of the movement she had been feeling over the past few weeks.

With a hand lain over his, Riza rubbed a thumb against the rough texture of his skin. "I think the baby agrees with our reasoning."

Roy smiled down at her belly. In the dim lamplight of the room, the couple shared a gentle kiss – the beauty of bringing another life into this world hitting them once more. They had never expected to have Elizabeth and now they were getting the opportunity to have another, surely their luck would run out somewhere along the way. After all, neither of them had ever done anything to deserve such good fortune.

After turning out the lights and snuggling down in bed, Roy wrapped his arms around his wife, palms flat on her stomach, trying his hardest to get the baby to kick again.

"The doctor says everything's alright?" Riza smiled at his question, knowing good and well that she had told him exactly what the doctor had said after her visit on Monday.

"Everything is as it should be." Riza assured him, patting his hand in a comforting gesture. "Though she's still cautious given my age, the baby is growing at the same rate Elizabeth did. We aren't out of the woods completely, and won't be until their born, but the doctor seems to be rather hopeful now that we've made it to this point."

Roy smiled into the back of her neck, nuzzling his nose into her skin. When he inhaled, he could smell the mint fragrance that was used in her shampoo. It smelled like her, it smelled like home.

"Are we still good on the names?" He asked, curious if she had changed her mind. From the pat on the back of his hand though, he could tell she was still resolute on what they had picked out only a month before.

"Yes." She answered, twining her fingers with his. "I think the names are perfect."

Roy smiled before drifting off to sleep.

Whatever problems came their way; they would face them together.

[cozycryptidcorner]

Chapter Two

“Morning, love, how are things going on your end?”

“Things are going swimmingly!” Your throat grinds with having to keep your customer service tone up, but you grit your teeth and keep going. “What time should I expect you tomorrow?”

“Around noon, I think. Just have a couple of errands to run beforehand around town, but it shouldn’t take too long! Do you need me to pick anything up from Tom’s Hardware?”

Oh, sweet lord, yes, anything to stall her. An extra ten minutes might be the difference between your job and your career’s untimely death. You turn around to concentrate, reaching for where you stashed your notebook. “Actually, Marge, could you pick up a couple of paints? I’ll send over the serial numbers via email.”

“Oh, of course, you must be extra busy with your crew gone! I’ll get that done for you. Anything else?”

You try to wrack your brain, but you can’t think of anything more, much to your disappointment. Neither can you come up with any wild goose chases to keep her away for some time. “No, Marge, nothing comes to mind. Oh- wait, wait, I was just wondering what the statue outside is na- uh, titled, so I can start designing something themed.”

“Er, oh, I think it was among the lines of Gala-something. Galactus? No, that’s not right… Oh, dear, my wife would know.”

That’s when you noticed that the bench where you set the statue down is decidedly empty. Your stress levels immediately pop right back up to maximum. After a moment, you realize that your jaw aches as you clench it hard enough to break your teeth. Quickly enough, you come up with a believable lie to get off the phone as soon as possible. “Hey, Marge- delivery guy’s here. I’ve got to handle this.”

“Of course! Talk to you later, dear. I’ll have Esther send you a text message with the statue’s information.”

You’re already running through the hall when you hang up, eyes scanning every crevice that could possibly be a hiding spot for a walking statue, but you can’t find him. He’s not in the common area, nor in the first couple of rooms that your crew had managed to finish furnishing before leaving. You call for him, not sure of his name nor what you might refer to him as, so it’s a weird mash of statue guy, and stone dude, mainly just focusing on “um, hey? Not done with you yet!”

After edging on the precipice of a panic attack, you spot his silhouette upon the top of the staircase. Letting out a loud, pissed grunt, you storm up, hand on the rail to steady your angry rampage, and then you look over to the doorway he appears to be aiming for. Oh, no. No, no, no, not on your watch. You speed your pace, throwing yourself in front of the door before he can do any damage to the precious collection beyond it. Unfortunately, your injured hand makes a somewhat awkward connection with the oak frame, and a dull wave of pain rushes through your nerves.

“You can’t just wander off like that,” you gasp, out of breath from the speed you pushed yourself to.

“A thousand apologies, love,” he says, though you can see the curiosity running around and around his head like a carousel. “Might I inquire as to the contents of the room?”

Your face goes a bit pink, you can feel the heat sparking in your cheeks. “No, no, you may not. Everything in there belongs to the owner, only she and I are allowed in there.”

The statue then places both his hands on the door as well, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the hallway. “What if I asked nicely?”

Is his face inching closer? “I’d say no.”

“What if I asked very nicely?” He pecks you on the mouth, far too quickly for you to register that it was even happening until after the fact. Unfortunately, instead of leaving what ask nicely up for interpretation, he adds, “with my tongue, on my knees.”

Everything feels like it’s going on overdrive because someone you just met is offering sexual favors, and you feel like if you open your mouth at all, anything that comes out is going to be nothing more than a high pitched squeak. Just when you think this situation can’t get any worse, oh, he gets on his knees, as though promising that he's not bluffing, but you are not exactly open to the fact that his hands seem to be wandering to the waistline of your pants. In a panic, you bring your knee up. Not with the intent to hurt him, no, you don’t want any more broken body parts today, you just want to have another layer between him and your clothing.

“No! No, not even if you-” you manage to get ahold of your voice, though struggle greatly with keeping it from screaming, “just no! No, thank you!”

Above all else, he’s confused, with leaves you rather puzzled in return, because did he honest to god expect you to let him eat you out job, much less pressed up against a door that holds, at the very least, a good hundred-million dollars worth of artwork inside? Unless you’re reading the situation wayyyyy off-kilter, which is super unlikely, especially given the fact that he’s been trying to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of you since he first started breathing. With a hard swallow, you push him away, foot on his collarbone. At least he doesn’t offer up any resistance as he stands, brow furrowed.

“Back to the kitchen,” you instruct, pointing down the hall and then placing a hand over your eyes. A puff of anger escapes your lungs, and then you do your best to get your shit together in the two seconds you allow yourself. “Now.”

He obeys, thankfully, because you don’t know what you would end up doing otherwise. Once his back is turned, you pat your pockets and silently chastise yourself for not carrying your keys around, because you’re not going to put it past him to come snooping around once your attention is elsewhere. Oh, god, your work, how are you supposed to get anything done when you’re most likely going to have to babysit the statue? You assume it’s going to be like keeping an eye on a toddler; turn away for two minutes, and the castle will burn down. You can’t imagine digging yourself out of that grave. Remember to lock the door, you think hard, hoping you’ll have a chance to do it later.

“Alright,” you try to think once you’re back at the table, clawing at something, anything that could make a semblance of sense on this hellish day. “Okay. Cool. The owner of the property is coming over tomorrow.”

The statue rests his chin on his hand, his elbow on the table, mouth out in a soft, sullen pout.

“Now, just to recap, the person who owns your fine ass is coming down to pay me a visit to make sure everything is going well. Do you think that things are going well right now?” You don’t give him a chance to answer. “Things aren’t going well, and I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.”

“Do you think my ass is truly that divine?” He perks up, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

”Focus,” you grind out, afraid that you’re going to snap the pen you’re holding clean in half. The first step to saving money is not to break any of your things, no matter how fucking stressed you are. “I need you to go out in the back while she’s here and pretend to still be frozen.”

“But won’t, er, Marge, was it?”

“Ms. Hopkins, for you. Only friends get to call her Marge.”

He hesitates for a moment. ““Surely... Ms. Hopkins won’t be upset at a miracle sent by the gods themselves? Not unless she wishes punishment like that which she has never experienced before.” He settles back on the bench, arms open as though offering an embrace. “I have been birthed from the ground by chisel and a steady hand, then given life through the power of love by-”

“I’m going to cut you off there.” You hold a finger up, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Not to give you a crisis of faith or anything, but that’s not going to be good enough. I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to you if scientists start getting involved, you’re going to like, end up in a lab somewhere, and you’ll never see the light of day again. So when Marge gets here, you’re going to go back to that pedestal, and you’re going to stand still. Do you understand?”

“What’s a scientist? Is it like a philosopher?”

You’re fucking doomed. “Forget that, I need you to promise me that you’re going to stay put while Marge is here.”

He lets out a loud sigh, rolling his stone eyes so that you can fully see just how badly you’re inconveniencing him. “I suppose I might, though being able to stretch after such a long time has been such a blessing. Are you really going to make me go back to being still?”

“For like an hour? Yes, yes, I am.”

“But I’m so stiff,” he’s acting like you just asked him to shoot himself in the leg, “and my joints ache so very much.”

“You’ll hurt more if you don’t do as I say.” It’s an entirely empty threat since you’re pretty sure the only thing that might cut through him is an industrial chainsaw, something that’s not exactly on hand at the moment.

“Is that a promise?” He says, voice suddenly sultry and full of allure.

You need a moment to step away from the situation before you try strangling him, if that would even do any damage. Does he even breathe? Maybe you should check on that before anything else. Clear your head out, settle your thoughts, reset everything back to zero. This is fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fucking fine. Even though it physically pains you to say it, you offer up one last plea. “Please.”

That seems to move him, if only slightly. “If it is truly that important to you, then I shall.”

A shudder of relief runs through your body.

”However,” he stands to his full height, leaning over until his face is remarkably close to yours, “I should think that I should perhaps stretch, to fully prepare for such a task. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You skillfully dodge his mouth, turning around and letting out a frustrated breath. “Then do some yoga. I’ve got a job to do, you’ll remember, one that involves things like work and time.”

“Shall I help?”

”No!” It might have come out a little too harsh, but you are not letting him get his rocky hands all over your paints and equipment. “I just need you to be in my line of vision at all times, okay? Can you do that?”

“Can’t take your eyes off me for one moment?” He asks, which is entirely true but definitely not within the context of the tone he uses.

You know what? Agreeing at this point is probably better for both your sanity and his cooperation. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head, you say, deadpan, “you’re absolutely correct, I can’t seem to be able to ;ook away from that fine ass of yours. Please come with me upstairs so I can start working without your presence for a second longer than I must.”

He doesn’t appear to detect the sarcasm dripping from your words and instead looks rather flattered. “I suppose I must indulge you, then. Very well, show me the way to your place of work.”

You don’t bother to mention that the entire castle is your place of work, and instead lead him back to the library. None of the shelves are in place, and the books themselves are safely in storage while you and every other crew can trample on through without worrying about accidentally destroying something old enough to be their great-grandparent. Everything seems good to go, so you start to begin, stirring up the thick paint in the cans to make sure everything’s even, and then begin. You have almost an hour of uninterrupted work before the statue begins to start fiddling with some things that he should not be touching at all.

“Question,” you say, beginning on another wall, “can you sleep or anything?” Or do you need to be watched 24/7, no rest for the wicked amiright.

“I suppose we’ll find out.” He lays on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, clearly bored out of his mind.

“Could you maybe put on some clothes?” His nakedness hasn’t bothered you yet, but with all his attempts to take off your clothes, maybe some change is in order.

He turns his head in your direction and looks at you like you just suggested that he should maybe take a leisurely stroll into the sun. “And deprive you of such a beautiful view? Darling, my love, I should think not.”

“Okay, okay, no clothes.” You resist the urge to let out a huff. “I’m so sorry to even think of such a thing.”

“All is forgiven.” He says, so very gently, looking back up at the electric chandelier.

Again, there’s the desire to let out a scream that could be heard from across the nearest ocean, but you do no such thing. Instead, you throw yourself headfirst into your work, hoping that at the very least, your ridiculous amount of progress might allow Marge to overlook some… other things. You forget what time it is until you realize that it is suddenly so difficult to see your work, and that’s when you look out the window to find nothing but black and stars. The sun must have set long ago, without you even noticing, which means that it’s time for you to eat something before you faint from a sugar crash.

“Do you feel hungry?” You ask him, looking at your phone for the first time in hours. There’s a text from Esther, Marge’s wife, waiting for you to view.

“I don’t know.”

“Wonderful,” you respond, “but I do. I’ll order some pizza, then, and I guess you can eat some if you feel hungry at all. Any preferred toppings?”

“Preferred what?”

You take a deep breath. “I’ll just order something, then.”

And so you do, making sure the statue is sitting at the table with an old Rubix cube you found in one of the many boxes stashed in the storage room. Thankfully, he seems absolutely enamored by it, so you take the time to phone in a local pizza delivery place. Perhaps you get one too many things than you’d manage to eat, just in case the statue might end up needing to eat like any other person, though having leftovers isn’t exactly the worst outcome if he doesn’t.

While you wait for your food to be delivered, you take the liberty of reading over the document that Marge’s wife sent. Blah, blah, blah, temple excavation, blah, blah, oldest intact statue from the Hellenistic period, blah, blah, something about Aphrodite, and then… “Galateos.”

That catches his attention like a gunshot. He stares at you, mouth open and closing as he tries to come up with something to say in response. Finally, voice strangled, he says, “that sounds familiar.”

“Thought it might,” you say, a lie, really, because you don’t really know what he might find familiar and what he would see as entirely knew. “Esther texted me some info about where you came from. It says that the plaque you were given called you ‘Galateos.’”

He sits up just a tad bit taller, jaw clenched, eyes looking over the wooden table like it might offer some clues to what the word means. Finally, voice uncharacteristically dry, he says, “that must be my name.”

The way he says it, though, is unsure, almost scared, really. So you try offering a way out. “Is there something else you want to be called?”

He thinks about it, you can see the way his forehead crinkles and his eyes grow distant. But after barely a second of thought, he shakes his head. “No. Galateos is fine.”

“Alright, then, Galateos,” you try the name out. It’s long, and stiff, much like the way he had been complaining about his limbs a mere hours before. “Can I call you Gala? Or Teos? Or literally anything but?”

“You can call me ‘dearest,’ or ‘most beloved,’” he says, entirely serious.

“Galateos it is, then.” You look over the photograph of a pamphlet Marge must have ordered to advertise the statue, Esther even gave sent another picture of it open, revealing the block of text describing where they found him. “Do you remember being a statue at all? Or are you suddenly like…. Awake and stuff?”

He looks a tad bit troubled, looking down at his hands like he can’t quite place what their purpose is. After a moment of silence, he says, “I don’t know how to describe it. Darkness, forever. And then suddenly light. I didn’t care about the darkness while I was frozen because I couldn’t care about anything, anything at all. There were periods of warm and periods of cold, but neither of them were particularly bothersome.”

“You feel heat and cold?” You ask, already preparing an experiment in your head to check.

“I think so.”

“One way to find out.” You go through the cabinets until you find a large stainless steel bowl, then fill it to the brim with ice, and place it in front of him. “Stick your hand inside and leave it there for as long as you can.”

He looks at the ice like it’s something entirely unfamiliar and new, looking over at you like you might magically have the answer to a question he didn’t ask. Then, carefully, slowly, he slides his hand in the ice, frowning as he tries to verbalize what he feels. “What is this?”

“Ice.” When his expression remains blank, so you try to clarify. “When water gets cold, it freezes.”

His eyes widen, his mouth opening in a soft o. “This is water?”

“Frozen water, yeah,” you try to get back on topic, even though you find it odd that he knows what water is, but not ice. “Do you feel anything?”

“Cold,” he says, pulling his hand out. “It feels cold.”

You reach over and grab his hand in your own, running your thumb over his palm, finding the stone there as cold as one would expect to be after submerged in a pile of ice. “But you can feel it? Does it hurt?”

“It feels,” he thinks, brow furrowed, eyes decidedly glued on where your fingers touch, “pinching, but also not. As though I’m being poked by needles.”

That sounds cold to you, remembering the way your skin prickles when met with chilly air. So he can feel temperature changes, but can’t be deterred by one of your mean hooks, which you suppose is an interesting discovery. You might posit that it also doesn’t make the slightest lick of sense, but then again, a slab of lovingly carved stone is walking and talking, so you guess you can’t really be the judge of what is weird and what isn’t at the moment.

He slyly places his other hand over yours, wholly focused on tracing the path of your fingers while you… kind of just let it happen. If it was anyone else, you might have yanked your hand out of their grip, but you just sort of sit there and allow him to observe the curves and scars of your hand. While he does so, he’s quiet, not so much as whispering a single word that would cause you to leave, and is instead seems satisfied with the silence that settles over the kitchen. You can’t say that you’re uncomfortable with the way he touches you, his gestures so very gentle even though he’s a fucking rock.

“You’re an artist,” he says finally, his voice soft and sweet.

He’s only seen you working the brunt of the job, not the finer details that you pride yourself with. “How do you know?”

“The hands never lie.”

“And how would you know that?” You ask, a tad bit teasingly.

His eyes grow distant, feverish, as though he’s desperately trying to grasp something that’s just out of his reach. “I- I don’t rem-”

Someone’s at the kitchen’s back door, as instructed, knocking loudly and announcing that they’re the pizza guy. You’re very familiar with all the delivery people by now, and so you recognize the carrot-like hair of one of the pizza place’s employees, though you can’t recall his name. There’s cash in your back pocket, you always try to tip generously and under the table, and after exchanging a couple of words of pleasantries, you shut the door and go back to the table, pizza in hand. By this point, you’re practically frothing at the mouth for food, so statue be damned, you tear into the pizza like an animal once you’re sitting down.

Galateos watches with interest, observing the way you’re able to pull at the crust and place the triangular-shaped piece on a napkin that you decided to use as a plate because… you don’t have the energy to do dishes. As you eat, and subsequently feel a tad bit tired, you realize that there is going to be an issue with the fact that, problem one; you don’t know if you should leave him alone if he doesn’t sleep and problem two; there’s literally only one room that’s fully furnished and can house a person. You have been staying there, on your own, since going to some other hotel at night seems unnecessary, because this place is a hotel. Silently, you try to weigh the pros and cons of sharing a bed with him, and the only thing you seem to come back to is that you'd be able to keep an eye on him throughout the night.

He takes a couple of bites of the pizza, though scrunches up his nose with each one, seemingly unable to gather much of an appetite. Though he actually swallows the food, instead of spitting it right out like you might have expected, so that’s something, you guess. After you clean up, you sit with another mug of steaming hot tea, trying to relax yourself enough for sleep. He has a cup, too, though he stares at the liquid, and doesn’t really seem interested in drinking it.

You try to browse through the photos of the pamphlet again, trying to find something that might help you figure out just what the actual, literal fuck is going on. There isn’t really anything that might be considered out of the ordinary, there’s a transcript of the writing found at the base of the statue, back when he was standing still on the pedestal.

Μόνο ένας που μπορεί να αγαπήσει θα δώσει πνοή ζωής σε αυτό το σπλάχνο της γης

Όταν τα άστρα θα έχουν κινηθεί από τις θέσεις τους

Τότε ο γιος της Γεας θα αφυπνιστεί

Να γεννηθεί στην εποχή του μετάλλου και του κεραυνού

Όταν ο γλύπτης θα κείτεται νεκρός για τρείς χιλιάδες εύπρωκτα, εύπρωκτα χρόνια

There isn’t a translation available, which strikes you as odd. Maybe it hasn’t been translated yet? The pamphlet is a draft, after all. Maybe Marge has someone working on it right at this very moment and just hasn’t had the time to fully go over it yet. But… you look back up to the statue, who is bobbing his teabag up and down, watching the color of the water change. “Do you read Greek?”

“I don’t-”

“Just take a look,” you interrupt, holding your phone out in front of his face.

His eyes squint, pouring over the words on your phone, and it looks like he might actually be understanding what it says. That is, until, he sits back and offers you a shrug, mouth twitching. “I can’t.”

You let out a frustrated breath, but whatever. You knew it was a long shot, anyway. “Guess I’ll just have to wait until the official translator does their thing.”

Author’s Note:

A very special thanks to the wonderful @two-plus-two-is-four, my source for a lovely Greek translation of the inscription. I appreciate it so very much.

[mcwriting]

one kiss is all it takes

I had this cute idea pop into my brain one night when I was tryna sleep and just couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

It’s wayyyyy overly descriptive but this whole thing was basically me imagining every little detail possible and putting it on the page. I’m not one for ambiguity in my writing if you haven’t noticed lol. 

Anyways I’m still working on starstruck so here’s this for your troubles 

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland (plus mention of spidey)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (ik the beginning has Peter but it’s explained under the cut ;) lol)

Setting: good ol’ Atlanta, GA (aka a place I wanna visit so bad) 

Word Count: 4943 (omg I almost had a stroke reading that number this is my longest story to date)

Warnings: teeny bad word, some SeXuAl themes and kissing, as the title implies

Rating: T but it ain’t that extreme 

sorry it’s so long lol rip 

+

“Look, Peter, you may have been gone that 5 years, but I lost almost everything during them, and then, it all somehow got worse,” you explained through gritted teeth, standing from the end of your king sized bed to face him.

“My mom, my only source of comfort, was snapped, blipped, gone, sucked into a stupid rock for five years and me? I was stuck up here in this dumb apartment with an asshole father,” tears streamed down your face, confusing you, as you continued ferociously.

“You know what happened after maybe six months? He brought home his idiot secretary and flaunted her in front of me for over four YEARS! And guess what happened after the whole shebang was over and everyone came back?”

Your voice finally cracked and you stared at Peter for a moment before continuing.

“He pretended that he was faithful the entire time, all the while ignoring me and ruining every false hope I had that he was a decent human being. So you know what, spider boy? You may have been gone those five years, but I lost every good relationship in my life, so don’t come here pretending like you’re the only one with problems in this city,” you whispered.

He stood, reaching out to say something, but you held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. 

“You know what? Just get out,” you commanded.

“Wait I-”

“Out. Now.”

He stood for a brief second before stepping to your open window. Before he could put the mask on and go, a loud voice cut through the silence over a speaker.

“Cut!” Exclaimed Jon, causing both you and Tom to relax and smile.

You wiped the unintentional tears from your face. This had been your third take and for some reason, you had finally worked up a cry for the scene. It felt right, and Tom came over to compliment you on it. 

You were filming for another Spider-Man film and your character was a fresh take on Gwen Stacy, who had a new name similarly to Zendaya’s MJ. 

The character was a rich, somewhat bratty New Yorker who had been eleven during Thanos’s snap and grown into a sixteen year old Midtown student by the time everyone was revived. 

She hadn’t been on the European trip displayed in Far From Home, the excuse being that she was a model working events and doing photoshoots all summer. She also had become one of the most popular people in the school due to her internet fame, incredible academics, and wealth.

You had been shocked to receive the role but honored to become a member of the MCU. Over the couple of months spent in Atlanta by now, you had become integrated with the rest of the cast, getting especially close with your celebrity (and now real) crush Tom Holland. 

Weekends were often spent at the house Marvel provided him, where he lived with Harry and Harrison, who was once again able to tag along as Tom’s “assistant.” You lived only minutes down the road in your own small place and would go to Tom’s to swim or just hang out.

You and Tom were currently talking, you joking that you wished the scene was done so you wouldn’t have to bring out tears again. 

Almost prophetically, the Jason Bourne theme began playing over the speakers, Jon’s way of indicating that the scene was finished and needed no further work until post-production.

You looked to Tom and both of you sighed and held out arms for a hug and congratulations, ready to wrap the day as it was a late Friday night and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed all weekend.

You two began walking off of set to go to the trailers when Jon jogged after, calling out,

“Hold on guys, I need to talk to you about next week!”

He was holding two manila envelopes, each printed with yours and Tom’s names. Jon gripped them tightly.

“So I thought I’d give you these tentative scripts for the kissing scene so you two could prepare for Monday. As always, you can do some improv or try to make it better but I thought I’d give this as a heads up,” the director explained.

You were stunned, and surely looked it too. A quick glance at Tom showed he was more collected but definitely confused too.

“I’m sorry, Jon, but kiss? You never said there would be one between us I mean, he and MJ are still together, right?” You asked tentatively.

“Yeah I’m gonna have to agree with y/n, man. You said we might have a ‘moment’ but never mentioned a kiss. The fans’ll hate us,” Tom concurred, “but I haven’t read it yet so I’m sure it makes sense.”

“Wait did I not warn you guys? I’m so sorry. I mean we can change the scene if it makes you guys uncomf-”

“NO!” you exclaimed way too quickly, face heating up. “No, no, I mean, I’ll do it, if Tom’s in. I just, uh, didn’t realize we’d have to do an actual, real kiss is all.”

You had never kissed anyone before, and the prospect of Tom Holland being your first was unbelievably tempting. Tom had nodded along and agreed to move forward with it as well. With that and the scripts now in hand, you began walking to your trailers again, Tom alongside you.

After a few moments of silence under the artificial lights outside, Tom spoke up.

“Hey, would you maybe want to practice this scene at my place tomorrow? I know it was all kind of just thrown on us and I’d definitely feel better with some rehearsing.”

You smiled at the gesture, but again blushed at the thought of kissing Tom Holland, the guy you had been crushing on since Homecoming. You were glad that there was a shadow hiding your pink cheeks.

“Honestly, that’s perfect. I can come over at like 11 and after we can all have lunch and hang by the pool?” You asked, nervously hoping he would accept as you stepped in front of the steps to your trailer.

“That’s perfect, darling,” he replied, voice smooth and clear. You couldn’t help but look back at him walking away as you climbed the steps and went through the door, butterflies making themselves present in your stomach.

+

You slung your bag containing a swimsuit, sunscreen, towel, and snacks over the back of a chair and tossed your keys on the end table in Tom’s living room. You, Harry, and Haz sat on the kitchen counters while waiting for Tom to come out from a shower, joking around and sipping on beverages.

Soon enough, Tom came out and led you into the office, a small room with a couch, desk, and bookshelves that connected to the backyard with a sliding glass door. It was pretty private and well lit, giving you both a comfortable environment to work.

You started off by just reading over the lines and doing some basic marking, always stopping before the kiss. The scene would tie into Friday’s take, where Peter would return to your room to apologize, and you would kiss him out of nowhere in your distress. Then, you would promptly kick him out again upon realizing the ramifications the kiss could have on Peter and MJ’s relationship.

Finally, Tom suggested you work on the kiss by itself, 

“Before we do, can I make a confession?,” you questioned, chest beating heavily.

“Of course,” he said, full attention on you, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Look, Tom, I’ve never kissed anyone, in real life or acting. Can we please take this slow?”

“Absolutely y/n. I had no idea,” he looked around, “and since it’s your first time, I think a lesson is at hand.”

You cocked an eyebrow, then nodded, trying not to seem too excited. He led you over to the large, sturdy oak desk, gesturing for you to hop up.

“I know you’re in control of this during the actual scene, but if it’s okay I thought maybe I could lead it for right now? I get it if you don’t want to but-”

“No, no. That’s a great idea,” you pushed onto the desk and sat on the edge, legs dangling, “tell me what I’ve gotta do.”

He smiled and stepped forward.

“Okay, um. Well. Is it okay if I get between your legs, or put one knee in and,” you burst out in laughter at his wording, “Oh my God that sounded awful didn’t it I’m so sorry I just don’t want to push you further than you’re ready to go.”

“Tom,” you put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer, your knees now around his hips, “you’re doing great. And you know me, I’m not afraid to tell you what’s up if I’m not feeling it.”

He looked down at you sheepishly, then placed his hands on the desk on either side of you. Your position caused you to be only a few inches shorter than him, so as he leaned forward his face came even closer. 

The proximity made your heart race, and you tried to figure out where to put your own hands, settling on your lap for now. 

He grabbed your wrists and placed your palms on his back, then put his own on your shoulders. 

“Okay so is it alright if I put my hands on your neck and chin? Or do you want to do something different?”

“Dude, just do what feels right. You’re the one with experience. If it goes bad, then it’s bad and we figure out what to do, right?”

“Maybe you should be the one doing this then,” he chuckled, causing you to wrinkle your nose and shake your head. 

His fingers traced up your shoulders and neck, him placing the left on the nape of your neck, underneath your mess of hair, and the right just below your chin. He tipped your face up gently and you were now millimeters apart, so close that you could feel his hot breath.

“May I?” he whispered, making you gulp and give a slight nod. You could feel your eyes glazing over.

He took this as a yes and leaned in further, finally closing the gap. You closed your eyes completely to melt into his warm lips. The feeling of his fingers gripping your hair was like heaven, and after a seeming eternity, finally you separated to get some air.

Your eyes were still closed when you felt Tom brush his thumb over your lips. Upon opening your eyes and glancing up, Tom was looking at you with a soft grin mimicking yours. His left hand remained in your hair but he slid the right one down to the space between your shoulder blades.

“Was that alright for your first time, darling?” He questioned sweetly, words dripping like thick honey in the still air. 

It was like fireworks were going off around you in your head.

“I, um. It, yeah. Absolutely. I’m just... wow.” you stammered, unable to compose yourself properly. 

He breathed out a laugh and threw his head back, then went back to looking into your eyes. You studied the crinkles by his eyes and his lopsided grin closely, trying to burn the memory into your brain forever.

“Shall we try again?” he asked cheekily, and you responded with fervor once more.

He continued to move his right hand further down, palm spreading over the small of your back. Your nerves tingled at the touch and instinctively you arched your back. Your own hands found themselves on his shoulders and your legs wrapped all the way around his hips loosely.

The second time was longer, hungrier, more passionate. 

Am I dreaming? You promptly imagined, wondering how life had brought you to this moment.

After separating this time, you could see a ravenous flame in Tom’s eyes, and you decided to try something different. 

You told him to wait as you climbed further onto the desk, sitting on your knees and now towering a few inches above Tom. He looked a you with an interested glint in his eyes as you scooted closer.

Your hands found his again and this time you guided them to the lowest part of your back, hoping he would take the hint. 

With that, you were now in control, grabbing each side of his face between your palms and pulling him forward and up into another kiss, his hands instinctively traveling below your hips and onto your glutes, just as you had wanted.

Suddenly you broke the kiss, afraid you were coming on too strong. 

“This is all for research purposes, right?”

“Sure, we’ll call it that,” he quipped before pulling you back down.

Eventually you found yourself standing on the ground, once again shorter than Tom but happy nonetheless. The make out session continued, both of you trying to convince yourselves that with each new hand position or lean you were purely trying it all for the measly scene on Monday. 

Finally, you found yourselves on the couch. You had started by just sitting next to each other, similar to how the scene described your positions, but now somehow you were sitting straddled over his lap, knees digging into the sofa and his hands once again resting on your backside.

Nothing could ruin this moment you thought as your fingers ran through his curls.

Oh how wrong you were. 

You thought you were just imagining the sound of the door creaking open, but suddenly realized that you hadn’t when a new male voice spoke up.

“Woah, hey there you two,” Harry joked, causing you to whip your head around and stare at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Harry! It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” You immediately exclaimed.

Nice one, y/n. Like you aren’t just straight up making out with his brother??

“Righttttt. So anyways I just came to let you know that lunch is ready and also you guys have been in here for like an hour but feel free to finish up whatever... this is,” he trailed gesturing vaguely at you two before turning around and shutting the door behind himself.

You turned back to Tom, whose face was red as a tomato (and yours probably was too), then in record time separated yourself from his lap, heart pounding like never before.

“Sooo... lunch?” He asked awkwardly.

“Definitely. Definitely lunch.”

+

You were lounging on a chaise near the pool, sunglasses covering your closed eyes as you soaked in the sun. The boys were messing around in the pool and you couldn’t help but think about what happened before lunch every time Tom spoke.

“Hey y/n!” he called.

“Hmm?” you hummed, not bothering to look up. 

“Why don’t you join us? We want to do a chicken fight and I need a partner.”

“Depends. How warm is the water?” you ask, still unmoving. 

“Like 30 degrees! It’s so nice.”

“That’s below freezing in Fahrenheit. Not very appealing to me.”

“Alright that’s like, what, 85 f? It feels reeaaaally good, babe.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he called you babe. It wasn’t the first time he had, and he actually did it to a lot of people, but it still felt nice.

“Alright fine,” you sighed dramatically as you stood up, removed your sunglasses, and dove in.

+

An hour or so later, more members of the cast had come over and you decided to join Zendaya under the porch, both of you watching the new team of Jacob and Tom chicken fighting Harry and Harrison while Tony, Remy, and Angourie looked on from nearby.

“So I heard that Harry saw something going on earlier. Anything you wanna tell me?” Z mentioned slyly, lowering her sunglasses to eye you.

You groaned and placed your head in your hands.

“Is he really gonna tell everyone?” You managed to ask, wanting to crawl in a hole and hide forever. 

Zendaya had been the first person to confront you about your crush on Tom about two weeks after filming began. She had told you that most of the people on set had a suspicion but were afraid to ask, so ever since then you often confided in her for advice or just to spill tea.

Finally, you sat up and quietly told her what happened, her trying to hype you up occasionally while you instead tried to shush her as not to draw the boys’ attention.

That night, after pizza and drinks with everyone, you prepared to go home, grabbing your bag, keys, and script. You called out a goodbye to everyone still there and waved, heading to the door.

Tom jumped up and followed you.

“Hey, y/n!” you turned around at his voice and could see everyone elbowing each other and whispering in the beackground. He led you out the door and shut it behind him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright after today and say I’m sorry if I ever took things too far,” he confessed. Your heart swelled at how sweet and considerate he was.

“Honestly Tom, I could say the same. I’m was afraid you think I’m crazy or something,” you joked, causing a chuckle from both of you and him to shake his head. 

“I could never. You already know how crazy I am, and I think I’ve already seen some of your wild side too,” he shot back.

You both said your goodbyes and went in for a hug. It lasted a few seconds longer than normal, and when you pulled away, he looked down at his feet. Even then, he still waited on the porch for you to get in your car and waved as you pulled away, making sure you got out safe.

+

It was 5 am Monday morning and you weren’t ready to head to set. 

Your Sunday had been pretty standard, reading over lines in the morning and hanging out with some of your cast mates that afternoon. Once night fell, though, you found it difficult to sleep in fear of the kiss scene. 

Yours and Tom’s Saturday afternoon kept replaying in your head like a Twitter gif until you finally succumbed to exhaustion, dreaming still about a certain celebrity, so you weren’t exactly well rested upon waking.

Once arriving to your trailer at Pinewood Atlanta, you dropped off your things and headed straight to hair and makeup. The scene would be set at night as your character prepared to go to bed, so only a light coating of natural foundation and clear mascara adorned your face and your hair was tied back in two french braids.

You were glad that your makeup was so quick today, but you also didn’t want to leave as dread filled your stomach about the scene.

It was one thing to make out with Tom Holland in the privacy of his own home, but another to plant one on him in front of the cast, crew, and cameras.

You headed to wardrobe, where you got dressed into comfortable black leggings and an oversized midtown sweatshirt. 

You were walking out when Jon, looking down at his phone in hand, almost ran into you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Oh, hey, y/n! Just the person I was looking for. I just wanted to see how you were feeling about this whole kissing scene. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you laughed, “but really, Tom and I worked through it Saturday so I think it’ll be alright.”

“Right, yeah I heard about that. Harry said you guys were pretty... thorough about the scene. Well anyways, we’ll call you and Tom to set in a little bit. He’s getting in the suit right now. See you later!” Jon walked off, going back to his business on his phone.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in place, mortified. Why did Harry have the need to tell everyone that he caught you locking lips with his brother? It was just research, after all, nothing serious, you tried to convince yourself again.

You of course shouldn’t have been surprised. Leave it to a Holland brother to keep his mouth shut...

+

You walked onto the bedroom set, where Tom was already present with his back to you, getting some last minute translucent powder over his t-zone. 

His ass and thighs looked exceptionally good in the suit today, the tight material hugging his muscular body nicely. 

You felt a little bad that your costume was literally pajamas and Tom’s was spandex, but hey, you weren’t necessarily complaining. 

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off any “intrusive” thoughts, considering the high you were still riding from Saturday and your nervousness for the shoot. 

When Tom turned around and his eyes met yours, his face lit up.

“Hey, darling. Good morning. How are you? Are you ready?” he immediately began, his chipper voice surprising you considering how early it still was. You both went in for a hug.

“Good morning to you, too. And I think so, considering how well we prepared the other day,” you joked quietly into his shoulder. 

You both pulled away and he had his eyebrows raised in response to your smirk. 

He was about to rebut when Jon made his way over, putting one hand on each of your shoulders. 

“Alright you two. I know you worked things out over the weekend, but you guys are gonna have to hold back a little bit, this may be an intense scene, but not that kind,” he chastised, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

Jon was eyeing both of you, and you and Tom both looked to find each other blushing like mad.

With that as confirmation, Jon clapped his hands together and yelled out for the production team to get in their positions so you could camera test and eventually shoot the scene. 

With everything planned out, you both got into character and found yourself in place to begin. 

The AC held a clap board in front of the camera, waiting for the all clear to begin your take.

“Alright, action,” Jon called over the microphone. 

You walked across the room, stopping in your footsteps. 

“Peter...” you trailed in surprise. 

He pulled off the mask and shook his head, motioning for you to wait and allow him to speak.

He began apologizing, trying to convince your character to give him a second chance and even try to be friends.

Then he started talking about his parents and uncle Ben, causing your face to fall over time as realization that both characters had experienced extreme loss in different ways, his much worse than yours. 

Both of you eventually sat on the side of the bed closely and looked at each other, a sad expression glazing your features. You looked down in thought.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked tentatively.

An overwhelming urge took you over and your lips crashed into his. You had squeezed your eyes shut and put a hand on his shoulder. Peter stiffened like a board, but then kissed back.

Suddenly, you pulled back, eyes wide open. 

“Oh my God. You’re with MJ. I just kissed a taken man. Peter, you just kissed me back!” 

Panic overcame your voice. 

“You have to leave, now!” you exclaimed in your alarmed state.

“Wait, we can talk about this, it wasn’t what you think!”

“Peter, I can’t do this to your girlfriend. She doesn’t deserve this. You need to go, and you should probably give her a heads up about what happened. But please,” your voice was desperate now, “make sure she knows it’s my fault. Make her hate me, not you.”

Parallel to the last scene, Peter went back to your open window, ready to mask up and swing out.

“Cut!” Jon called out again, then asked you to stay in your positions while he came down.

“Guys that was great!” he began upon getting closer. He then gave you both a few notes, explaining that you would need to do the shot a few more times at least to get it really solid. 

After every take, both you (and hopefully Tom) became more comfortable kissing in front of the crew. It took another twenty or so takes with different motivations and movements and angles before Jon called it done.

Both of you suspected that he and everyone else really just wanted you to kiss more, but no one would mention it out loud.

With the scene finished, everyone prepared to film other parts of the movie where Peter would have his mask off and you got to have a few breaks, watching from afar with Harry, Harrison, and some of the other assistants.

Harry leaned over at some point during the afternoon.

“You two really tamed it down, huh?” he whispered. You gave him a backhanded hit to the bicep.

“Oh shut up. We were acting, that’s all.” 

He raised a suspicious eyebrow and leaned in again.

“Tell that to the video Harrison got of you two in the study. He may or may not have set up a camera in the bookcase,” he suggested, glancing over to Tom’s oblivious best friend.

You gasped and straightened up.

“I’ll kill him,” you too looked to Haz, then Harry again, “but after he shows me the footage.”

+

A long filming day had once again commenced, and you were packing up your bag to head home when a knock was heard on the door of your trailer. 

The distinct rapping pattern alerted you that it was Tom and you opened it up to see him looking down at his phone. 

“Hey, y/n. Ready to walk to the parking lot?” he asked holding out his hand to help you down the steps. 

For a while now, Tom or one of his “assistants” would usually walk with you to your car for safety purposes, especially if it was dark out. 

As you both strolled through the darkness, you couldn’t help but notice the slower pace you both took on, trailing quite a few yards behind Harry and Haz, both of whom laughing at who knew what while going to Tom’s vehicle.

“So I think today went well,” you brought up, not sure where it would go.

“Yeah it was fun. I do have to say, however, that Saturday was a bit more enjoyable than this morning,” he implied, eyeing you.

“Oh yeah? I’d agree, but I hear that your best friend happened to catch it all on video.” 

He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“That voyeur, always ruining the moment. Maybe we oughta try it again sometime, without the threat of others watching,” Tom suggested, surprising you. 

You decided to get bold.

“You’re not even gonna take me out first? The nerve of some people,” you jokingly scoffed, gazing away from Tom at the cars highlighted in moonlight.

“Okay,” he replied, mimicking the way you had looked away when you turned back to face him. There was a faint smile on his lips. 

“What?”

“I said okay. Let’s go on a date.”

You stopped in your tracks and fully turned towards him and he followed suit. 

“You don’t mean that do you? Like, you actually would take me on a date?”

“If it meant that I could kiss you one more time I would take you on a million dates,” he replied sincerely. 

You couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped in surprise. Both of you stood silently staring at one another, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, you burst into giggles and he did too.

“That was so cheesy!” you exclaimed between laughs, both of you doubled over, and he nodded in agreement.

After calming down you gave him a toothy grin. 

“The answer is yes, by the way.”

“Really?” he asked incredulously. 

You began walking again, your car just in sight. 

“Of course. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve had a huge crush on you since before we even met,” you confessed. You stopped again, just behind your car bumper.

“Coulda fooled me. I thought I was the one being obvious. I have been attracted to you since the first time we met, and my feelings have only grown since knowing you.”

 You couldn’t help the butterflies erupting in your stomach and your widening smile as you looked up into his eyes.

“You know, I think I could make one exception right now, as long as you’re willing to make it up later?” you proposed, your eyes looking to the moon and stars now as you awaited his reply.

“I think that’s a debt I can handle,” he responded, snaking a hand around your waist and the other up under your chin again. 

He closed the gap between you both and you smiled against his lips, eyes closing in euphoria. 

You could’ve probably stayed there forever, but the hoots and hollers of the other two British boys just across the aisle made you both pull away. 

You looked towards the voices to find Harry and Harrison sticking out of the sunroof of Tom’s Audi A8, where they were still cheering and Harrison was holding up his phone to film. 

Both you and Tom couldn’t help but laugh at the once again unfortunate circumstance as he threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you close and you put one hand on his chest next to where you rested your head. 

Maybe you two were destined to be seen every time you smooched, but hey, at least you were the one kissing Tom Holland. 

+

A/N: yo this took way too long to write. Mostly bc I’m still in the process of writing starstruck and I always get stuck deciding on which piece to work on every night but alas! It is done! I’m proud of this one. I know it’s long, but I think it’s worth it ya know? Hope you all enjoyed! XO love y’all :)

[albuspottrss]

Hpcc part two recap from January Third

The scorpion king spends a lot of time anxiously fiddling with his robes, he doesn’t know what to do with himself :(

Craig!Karl did an excellent high kick as he ran over to the scorpion king (probs to try and impress him ;))

Luke!Yann was making intense eye contact with the scorpion king as he checked whether they were ;) still ;) on ;) for ;) tonight

Yann and Karl do a very enthusiastic chant on “VOLDEMORT”

Lola!Polly pointing out as she spelt f a c t and then doing a very dramatic hair flick

“Taking to the ball” Lola was bobbing up and down like an excited penguin

“Oh Potter” was followed by the loudest “eurghhhhhh” ever like she was genuinely disgusted

“The future is ours to make” she waved her hands in the air and did a dramatic little squeal

As the staircases went off Lola!Polly collapsed down on the stairs and fanned herself after her moment with the scorpion king

The scene in Dracos office is always super super intense with Jon!Scorpius. He gets worked up very quickly, he simply cannot believe his father would be responsible for all these cruel things and he’s learnt to not bottle up how he feels anymore and he just explodes- very similarly to the library scene :(

After getting his head slammed on the table Jon kinda stays there sobbing for a bit, he’s so broken at this awful world he’s found himself in

Draco finds himself crying and fiddling with his wedding ring at the mention of Astoria and hurridly busys himself with tidying his desk as a distraction

Both of the boys were incredibly emotional and crying as they spoke about Scorpius’s mother 🥺

Draco comes to give his son a reassuring tap on the chest, but Scorpius fully flinches himself away from him, he is so scarred by the violent way his father treated him moments ago and doesn’t feel safe

When Jon mentions Albus he got all choked up on the line “my best friend” as if he knew that it was very likely he wouldn’t ever get to see him again

When Hermione whipped her wand out at him Scorpius was so panicked and fell to the floor in terror, he’s so scared and as Hermione is on top of him he lies there shaking and twitching his foot, he’s so scared of the pain that might be inflicted on him :( - which makes the torture scene and the crucios later on so much worse

Scorpius tried to point out to Ron that his wands the wrong way round

I cannot remember for the life of me what was going on here but I have in my notes “Tom reaching out his hands and jazz handing at the dementors” and I felt like that needed to be shared

Scorpius took the biggest gulp before going into the lake, he knows the fate of the world relies on him

I adore how excited Dombus is about seeing a mermaid and then he dramatically re-enacts the ‘pincers’ and flails his arms around dramatically

The lake hug is one of the cutest hugs ever they’re both just so happy to see each other and hug so tight 🥺

Jon whacked the tie into the pool with such force it splashed Dom so hard

Draco imitates the awkward way Scorpius says ‘hello dad’ so sassily with a little wave

Dombus tries so hard to pretend like he’s got no idea what the time turner is - he’s not a good liar ;)

In trouble again! Had some great moments including but not limited to Luke!Yannns iconic staircase cartwheel parkour display, and Rayxia shouting at Ronnie to “go that wayyyyy”

Draco is such a little suck up to Mcgonagall, he sticks his hand up and proudly says “seems fairrrr” he can’t help himself but be a teachers pet

On the stairs when RGW finds out she didn’t exist Ryan!James does the most reassuring shoulder pat, we stan supportive cousins

Doms reply of “no” after the are you okay is so broken and hurt and lost

Albus is properly snuggled up in the slytherin dorm scene, until Scorpius crawls out of bed and gets right round in his face to shout and wake him up

“Malfoy the unanxious” Jon puts his hands on his hips and looks so proud of himself 🥺

“I’m not sure being fearless is good for your health” on fearless Dom mocked Scorpius’s confident movements and it’s the cutest thing

Jon then sat down on the bed next to Albus as they had their little heart to heart, and Scorpius kept hugging his knees, there was a lot of touching going on here between the boys too

Albus tucks himself back into bed, ready for a good nights sleep before Scorpius ruins that chance

Ronnie!Cbj looked so worried when he realised scorbus were missing, we stan one prefect in training, he gave a determined nod at his orders from Minnie G and ran off as fast as he could

The owlery Scorpius drapes his legs down the stairs and has his hand resting right behind Albus leaning in super close

“A much underestimated part of modern witchcraft”- Scorpius then gave Albus a little nudge and it was super cute

Dombus gets very emotional when describing what the dark au was like :(( he thinks it’s all his fault

Scorpius was crouching as far away from Delphi as possible he was clearly very frightened of her :((

Michelle!Hermione was blushing so hard at the “I bloody love you” and giggling like a little girl as she tapped on Tom!Rons chest

Joward!Draco was full on shaking his head at Rons revelation of Albus and his ‘older girlfriend’ like he knew it couldn’t be true since it’s clear Albus is in love with his own son

After Ron messes up Scorpius’s name and calls him “scrupius” Joward angrily shouted “SCORPI” But got cut off before he could say scorpius and just ended up venting out scorpi and it was very sweet

Scorpius flinched as soon as the wand was pointed at him :(((

After Delphi turns to Scorpius, Albus screamed “NO, no PLEASE NO”

Dombus charges forward at Delphi on the first crucio, hes so desperate to try and save his friend, and when he gets stopped he writhes on the floor in pain but trying to get up and save Scorp

Jon collapses on the floor completly broken after the first crucio, everytime a wand had been pulled at him since the dark au hes flinched, afraid at what awful spell will come out of the wand- I think this is because he’s always been so enfatuated with magic, he loves it and all the clever ways it can be used to help people, but then he sees the horrors it can cause in the dark world and truly appreciates how the awful things it can do, and everytime a wand gets drawn on him he’s terrified, if he could use those awful spells in a situation like that then surely anyone could, and then it finally happens, hes tortured and it breaks him because he knows that another version of himself was using it on innocent people

Before the maze Luke was giving the biggest cheers and Gordon was waving his slytherin scarf around like a windmill

Act Four

In the second EGM there were several shouts of “SHAME” and “ridiculous!”

When Ron stepped up to defend his friends but said he had no idea what was going on everyone clapped

Scorpius nearly started tearing up when they mentioned Ceeby :(

Albus grabbed Scorpius’s hand (once again) to drag him along to godrics hollow :))

Lola waved at Luke after they put the pumpkins down and they did the biggest grin at each other and swunggggg their hands together as they exited :))

When hiding from bathilda bagshot Albus ran the furthest I’ve ever seen him run and had absolutely nowhere to hide so just stood by the wall at the front of the stage with his arms crossed and his head down trying his best to not look toooo suspicious (hint: it didn’t work)

Whilst watching his grandparents, Albus and Scorpius were stood super close together, Albus so happy he’s seeing his grandparents, Scorpius wanting to be as close to Albus as possible to make sure he’s okay

Both of the adorable little nerds were jumping up and down after seeing Bathilda Bagshot

Jamie!Harry is still sobbing over his interaction with Dumbledore and awkwardly turns away when Draco walks in because he doesn’t want to show how vulnerable he really is and puts on a brave face to the world

Joward!Dracos awkward laugh at this office will soon be mine is everything. “Hahahahah. Ha.”

Draco was getting very emotinal about Astoria and the blood malediction

Audience: all decide that this is the perfect moment to have a coughing fit

Albus speaks of his grandma with so much admiration and love

Scorbus are so excited about their plans, Dom grabbed Jons shoulders in pure excitement before realising it wouldn’t work

They both mime out the cot and standing over the baby and when Albus shouts “helpppppppp” dead seriously, he started jazz handing before they both collapsed into laughter at how stupid it was

If you’ve seen Doms Albus you’ll know what I’m on about but the pause after Scorpius says “I’d choose you” hes sooooo touched, and so happy about it that he’s literally speechless, and then he starts to open his mouth to say, ‘I’d choose you too” but then in true awkward Albus style he panics last minute and makes the joke about it but it’s so cute and you can see Scorpius knows that he would choose him too

Jon!Scorp listens so intensely to what Albus has to say, even when he has no idea what is going on, he wants to support him and bounces up and down with Albus because he knows he’s super clever and just needs the encouragement!

Tom!Ron leaning in for a hug after the “you’ve got really nice hair Draco” and Joward being super sassy and turning away

Scorpius ran away from Draco when he came towards him, he’s still haunted by the dark world :(

But then they leaned in for the hug and it lasted foreverrrrr neither of them wanted to let go and when they finally broke apart Joward started holding Jons cheeks 🥺

Albus and Ginny’s hug was super cute as always and then Albus kept his arm wrapped around ginny long after she broke apart

Susie and Jamie are the perfect Hinny, in the church they have a beautiful heart to heart and the they lean in together so that their foreheads are touching and it’s the cutest thing ever

Scorpius is glowing after being referred to as like Hermione, it means so much to him to be referred to the girl who was “the brightest witch of her age” and the current minister for magic

Scorpius does not want his dad to volunteer to be voldemort he’s shaking his head and trying to protect him in case something goes wrong and he loses the last member of his only family :(

After the suggestion of ‘zaPping” Delphi, Draco makes zapping hand actions before he can stop himself and then looks at his hands in absolute disgust

Albus steps in front of his dad when Draco makes a comment, he’s so desperate to protect him

There was a lot of reassuring holding going on with Scorbus as Albus watches his dad turn into voldemort :(

When Ron and Scorpius are looking out for Delphi, they were having a conversation and then Jon made binoculars with his hands to mime his being on the lookout

Dombus takes Harry’s wand away during Lily and James and just holds Jamie’s hand 🥺

Draco was stroking Scorpius’s head :((

Yolly did another hand hold as they walked across the stage and Lola!Polly was giggling :))

Jon says “oh yeah right” after the mention of Rose after their hug so quickly and confused, Rose is literally the last thing on Scorpius’s mind right then bless him

Jamie!Harry did a large shudder before muttering out “pigeons!!”

Jamie!Harry did the biggest laugh at Albus’s pigeon racing joke and it was reallyyyyy sweet

And that’s it on my notes there but I hope it managed to give you some dombus and scone feels and plenty of scorbus 🥺💚 cast four are really something special and I loveeee writing about them so sorry these notes are rather long haha :)

[aicosu]

lotura prompt (because I love the way you write the ensemble cast): the paladins convince Lotor and Allura to try cosplaying for their first convention.

“Thank you so much!”

“Yes, thank you.”

One hundred and twelve down, only… a few hundred more to go.

Fury. He really needed to renegotiate his contract for table scheduling. This was getting worse every year. His knuckles already ached, and this was still the first day.

“Next!”

He looked up at line control, and the next pair, hurrying to the table. Well, the boy hurried to the table.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh–”

“Hello, there,” Lotor nodded, already reaching for the book in the boy’s hands. Damn. Perhaps he should write less next time, just so they weren’t so damn heavy to sign.

“I–wow, your–you’re like my favorite guy, ever–or–” The boy huffed, bouncing back and forth on each knee. “My favorite story guy ever. I mean.”

He flipped the cover to the dedication page, signing in a large loop a he listened absently. Was lunch soon?

“I’m like, a huge, huge fan of the show–we, uh, we just came from the panel–”

His brow rose, and he looked up to see the boy motion to himself and the girl behind him. She was staring over the signing booth at the signs in the hall.

“I mean, I mean!! I love the book more–of course! The book is wayyyyy better, but I saw the show first and then I had too–”

“Thank you,” He said, still staring at the girl as he signed the boy’s badge. His hand went off to finish hs ‘o’ and ‘r’ on the table surface.

She was… convincing. Beautiful, of course. But the ears–the markings– they were really getting better at this kind of thing every year, weren’t they?

“–and and that’s my favorite scene honestly, I–”“Thank you.” He gave the boy his full attention then, smiling wide before sliding the book and badge back and motioning to his companion. “Do you have something for me to sign as well?”Her eyes blinked fast, realizing they were both staring at her, before turning to him and cringing.

Cringing. “No, I don’t–I’m not a fan.”

Oh. Something strange sank in him he immediately brushed away. “I don’t watch that fake soapy stuff.”

Fake. Soapy. Stuff. The feeling came back. The boy sunk beside her, gritting his teeth and whispering, loudly, “He’s the author of the book not the show–”Her head tilted but her eyes still slid away with disinterest. Lotor swallowed the cold in his throat and pulled off a warm chuckle that sounded a tad too dry. “I understand. Not a fan enough for a signing of ALTEA, just enough to cosplay from it, hm?”The girl’s nose scrunched.

“I’m not–”“Allura!” The boy snapped. Lotor’s eyes flickered between the two.Her face began turning red. Markings turning a deep hot pink and ears tinting in the light of the hall.

Tinting. Real. Not a pair of costume ears and some paint. A real–“A real Altean–” He breathed. Allura. An Altean name. An Altean. Here. At bloody comicon. In his autograph line. An Altean. Altean-sun-kissed skin fram that double iris, that colored pupil, real, staring back like stars caught in her eyes. White hair, not a wig but long, curling tresses. White hair!! Royal!?

Fury! “Sorrywegottago!!!” The boy’s hands shuffled his merch in order to push his fingers into her shoulders and rush her from the booth–“Wait!” Lotor bit out, standing fast, arm reaching as if to grasp them. His foot slid on the cheap convention chair and table cloth and he toppled sideways. “WHOA!” Ezor yelled from the other side of the booth. The tower of his books on display barreled to the ground in a crash. “S-stop!” He tried, yelling from the ground as he tried to recover.

The crowd was all yelling now, closing out the opening they’d escaped through. “You okay boss!?” Zethrid shouted. “I’m taking a break!” He snapped, pushing the table aside and rocking posters to the floor before pushing through the line. “I love your book!” “Lotor sign my hat!” “When’s the next one!?”He took off in a run when he was finally able. Uselessness filled him to the brim.

How in the world would he find them?

[unknowngirl199424-blog]

Pt. 3

Now being the pretty innocent girl i was. I smoked weed very occasionally. Drank every now and then. But that was it really. I smoked cigs. Stupid choice i made at an even more stupid young age. I was 13 when i tried it. 15 when i started smoking every day. (My parents knew, they didn't care) my younger sister had been smoking for years. She partied a lot. Drank a lot. Smoked a lot. Took a lot of pills. Would steal my moms pain pills that she needed from the back surgeries. Mom would run out at the end of the month and would bawl... Literally wail in pain. And it never stopped my sister. I caught her several times. Id get pissed. Ask her wtf she was doing, or why... But she never stopped. I never told... I was drowning in depression. It started when i was 13. After my grandma passed. I changed... She was my world.

My parents partied ALOT!

Used LOTS of drugs...

Ranging from just weed, to coke, to meth...

The first half of my life... From birth till... 14? I think was when they quit all the hard shit for good. They were just... Mom and dad. I mean i loved them, i respected them, but... I didn't have anything to compare it to. It was normal for me to walk in and see light bulbs just randomly on the coffee table.

It was normal for me to wake my sis up in the morning, helping her get dressed, teeth brushed, food in her belly and out the door waiting on the bus. Every day. We lived in the country about 20 miles from town where our friends were. So all we had was each other. In the summer as soon as the sun started to show, 7:00ish. My parents would rush into our room. One would wake up me while the other would wake my sister. Rush us up and to get dressed and outside. We'd be outside alllllllllll day long in the summer in Oklahoma heat. They'd have friends over and lock the doors. We played. Sometimes the friends would bring their kids and we'd run around and play all day. I was a tom boy. I had scarred bloody knees almost daily from wrecking my bike. Would just walk around the property we lived on. Played with our dogs. Pissed off snakes that liked to live in the barn or chicken coop. I ran a lot. BUT IT WAS NORMAL TO ME. They started to quit when i was 12. Then grandma passed. They started again. Didn't stop for good until mom was hurt and dad was fired for pissing dirty for weed, coke, and meth. He was rehired 6 months later. But shit was rough at the time. So after losing my grandma. I went into myself. She loved me, took care of me. Gave me what i wanted and needed. I basically broke. I was never really an over joyous kid. I was raped and molested by my cousin. And so i always carried pain. But grandma was who made me happy. She passed. And from that point in my life from 13 to 18. I cut a lot. I was emotionless most days. But some days I'd break and cry for hours. For the longest time i thought i was depressed because of grandma. But i realized... Depression is a disease. And once you get a good dose of it, it stays. It twists and folds and wiggles its way into every fibre of your being and clings. And bad things that go on add to it and over time, you are eye level deep terrified you're gonna go under soon and no one will notice. Well over the years shit was added. Once I realised i could.... Not feel the pain and sadness... I latched on. Over time the occasional smoking weed went to every day several times a day. Drinking came up for awhile but i hated feeling like shit the next day so i quit. My ex gave me a pain pill one day.

I realised that not only could i get away from the pain and depression, i could feel fucking amazing while doing so. So it started out ya know. Once a week. Just one. To 2 a week to 4 a week to at least 1 every day. When we went up north. Pills were every where. Drugs in general. And i wanted to experience things. We had fun. Went lots of places. Did lots of things. Parties, festivals, fairs, amusement parks, museums, art museums, craft fairs, art stores, book stores, malls, movie theaters.. Just... it was great. I met her friends. They were like her. We partied a lot. I was soley living in the moment for once instead of striving to please everyone else. It was a stupid choice. But it was my choice. Over the years. The fun with it stopped... it became a nessecity. She got shitty and mean sober and i was just as miserable. I wanted happiness not that. Her dad would give us pain pills every day and muscle relaxers. If we did literally anything for him he'd pay us in pills. My ex was also prescribed pain pills too! We'd go through them so quick and then he'd give them to us so we didn't go through withdrawal. By year 3 (2015) I'm 21. I'm working a few months here a few months there. Living the same daily cycle. My day didn't start until pills were thrown down my throat. The habit got bad. I was to a point i was taking fucking handfulls of pills. Daily. And didn't feel ok until then. The few days i didn't have them, i literally slept all day and all night. I was burying my issues with a dark coping mechanism.

I started falling out of love. I left her once last year and we got back together the next day. I told her she couldn't keep stopping me from leaving because it was making me hate her. She wouldnt let go. We stayed together for 4 months. I broke up with her and moved back to oklahoma the beginning of this year. But she was my comfort. Pills were my comfort. After being here for 4 months i let her come back. It was bad. I got back into pills again and one day i told her i didn't want to be with her anyone. She was here for a month at that point. But she wasn't trying to work. She wouldn't do anything. But look for pills. I told her i was done. She gave me some pills. I didn't know what they were but she told me they were for anxiety. And i was really upset. So i took them. We kept arguing. She kept giving me more. My parents stopped by to drop something off, i guess i was wayyyyy out of it. They leave. The fight blows up. I tell her i want her gone. She kept refusing. Idk what happened. It was like a light switch went off. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife and sliced my wrist up for the first time ever... I only cut my stomach and thighs as a teen. She came around the corner and saw what i was doing and broke a glass vase i had. She ran over and grabbed the blade. Started yanking it from me. I guess we fought over it pretty hard cuz all i remember was it flying across the room and when i got back 6 days later it was soooo bent up.

She kept going and going and i grabbed a piece of glass and cut, she got it away and i just collapsed to the floor. She tried hugging me. I screamed at her for being toxic for me. To not touch me. To just call my mom. My mom shows up. Its like 11:30 at night at this point and she freaks out. My ex starts shit with her. They argue. I scream at them that they needed to stop and mom took me to the er. I guess by that point i was in and out of consciousness. One thing i do remember was seeing an old teacher that i had from yearrrrs ago when i went to a vocational school to become a certified nurse aid. I really looked up to her at 17. Admired her. She was a Dr there in the er. It was humialting. I cried. I guess i pissed in a cup for em or something. I don't remember. But they told my mom (which i didn't find out till almost a week later) that i was overdosing. That all of what i took hadn't caught up and that's why i was talking really crazy and blacking out. I don't remember. But the next morning i wake up. There was a cop sitting next to my bed. 20 mins later im being handcuffed and put in a cruiser and drove over a hr to a phych place. Guess the dr asked me the night before what would happen if i went home and i said i didn't know. So they legally put me there for 5 days so i couldn't be any harm to myself.

5 good things about being put there.

1. I had no access to pills, alcohol, even cigarettes. So i was very very clear headed. The first time in almost 6 years. Had time to think about where tf my life has landed me.

2. I realized how fucking truly bad our relationship was. And came to the conclusion that if we stayed together. One, if not both of us was gonna end up in a casket. Whether it be from pills or not. It was gonna happen.

3. I realized that i deserved wayyyy better. Relationship wise. Life wise. I deserved someone who could push me in the healthy direction. Make positive choices. I felt like instead of maturing, i was still trapped in an 18 yr olds mentality.

4. I ended it. And that time i meant it. There's nothing she could offer me. That would make me go back. Not a million dollars, not a billion, not even all the stars in the sky. I have nothing for her.

5. I met someone who treats me amazing now. Who pushes me. Keeps me away from the shit. I've been pain pill free for 5 months and its staying that way.

And for once... I'm starting to actually feel happy. Genuinely. I was prescribed anti depressants, anti anxiety, and a sleep disorder med. I stopped taking the anti depressants because they made it worse. But im to the point where the good days finally out weigh the bad. And when the bad come, i roll with it.

For the new year. I have a few goals.

1. Continue all the hard work ive put into myself. Keep eating healthy. Keep exercising. Keep pushing myself forward. No more settling for less what what i truly want.

2. Stay tf away from pain pills. 👍 keep fighting that demon in me who whispers how good I would feel or how one wouldn't hurt...

3. Quit smoking cigs. They're killing me. My lungs hurt all the time.

4. Continue bettering my life. I got away from her for 4 months and i had my own home, vehicle, and a high paying easy job. Brought her back for a month, had a suicidal moment. But she's gone and im in a great relationship. And I'm fucking HAPPY!

5. Quit being so fucking hard on myself. I hate the way i look, i hate my body. But they can be changed. Stress over things that need it but relax more. I'm 24. I still have time.

I STILL HAVE FUCKIN TIME