#the way that I am ENCHANTED with Tom is so stupid
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Y’all think we’re going to get any sort of reunion story for season four? Because I had the time of my life winning with Tom and talking about our future childrens’ names, and I’d really love to follow that up 😭✌️
#the way that I am ENCHANTED with Tom is so stupid#litg s4 really has me in a twist huh#litg#litg 4#love island the game#litg tom#litg season 4#mc x tom
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The English Client — Eleven
— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader
— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.
— WARNINGS: none
— WORDCOUNT: 3k
— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir
I
Tom was displeased — not an uncommon occurrence. He was displeased with how familiar he’d come to be with the hotel and its surroundings, the lobby, the little restaurant, and how he knew by heart its every corner and the menu and the waiters. He was not a restless sort of person — on the contrary, he could lie in wait for a long time if needed — but it did disturb him how settled he now was in that muggle hotel.
He’d been picking at his breakfast since 6:30 AM. In fact, he’d been the first guest to arrive. By now it was nearly eight, and he had to be at Casa Ur by nine. His job…
He wasn’t suffering from a lack of appetite, not that he’d ever really had one. Living in an orphanage in London during the war had accustomed him to doing without many comforts. Rather, he dreaded going in. He may have been the last person anyone would suspect of laziness, but privately, he hated it. Hated having to report to someone, especially somebody inferior. Hated having his time wasted on the whims of others. Hated having to find his way through the sea of papers that were Oso’s home, always having to ask, or spend hours finding out where something was placed. Oh, to have a Time Turner and make this horrid morning last forever…
With a sigh, he downed his tea in one gulp, stuffed another fluff of omelette in his mouth, and left.
It wasn’t like he was going to meet Abraxas Malfoy, his old schoolmate, on his way to work. Indeed, they might never meet at all, if that old bastard Oso won’t let him work during the auction. But damn it, why did Abraxas have to be after the same book? It wasn’t like he was the most erudite of his old friends. Personally, Tom thought him a stereotypical dumb blond, getting by in his grades due to his good looks and family wealth. He could only hope Abraxas wouldn’t do anything stupid and blow his cover.
“Look on the bright side,” Tom said to himself. “Brax swore himself in service to Lord Voldemort. He wouldn’t refuse me anything.”
II
The end of the month brought summer’s end, and with it came Tom’s first payment — cut in half, as he’d only been there since the middle of the month. He’d finished analysing the three books and sent his notes off to the Baron, together with his confirmation that he would keep working there. He didn’t need the money, as he’d gotten into the habit of enchanting pebbles to be coins and newspaper pages into banknotes, but a salary was the perfect excuse to approach his target, his key of choice in that muggle institution, with an invitation.
“A date?!” she said, looking happier than he’d expected her to be.
“A date, an evening out among colleagues,” Tom smiled, leaning on her desk. “Whatever you like.”
“Colleagues, is it? So will Ambrogio be invited too?” she chuckled, eyes twinkling with a tease.
“Ugh, don’t.”
She laughed. “Is it that bad?”
“Let’s trade places one day. You’ll see.”
“No, I’d rather go on a date,” she pouted, coming around to lean beside him. “Where?”
“I had several ideas in mind… All of them a little selfish,” he said, slinking closer to her until their shoulders touched. “To start, maybe, the museum?”
“Really?”
It was not, of course, a selfish choice for Tom. He couldn’t care less about muggle history, ancient or otherwise, but he knew her to be the kind of sentimental soul that cared for it.
“And in the evening, I have tickets to a concert. We can have dinner in between. Your choice of restaurant, of course.”
She could barely contain her smile. Tom thought for a moment that she might even hug him, and his body braced for it, but it never came. The loosening of his muscles felt like a disappointment.
“Oh Tom, but you’ve barely earned anything yet, how can you afford —”
“Don’t worry about me.”
She sighed, clearly worrying regardless. It was a little cute, if he was honest. Through her open eyes, he read a thousand feelings, none of them seemingly connected with each other: fear and joy, anticipation, dread, and gladness.
“I want to spend more time with you,” he said in a low voice as he placed his hand over her own on the edge of the desk. “Being stuck down there all day while you’re up here and we can hardly see each other…”
“I know… I miss you too,” she confessed, blushing slightly.
“You do?”
He knew she did, of course. From early on in their acquaintance he’d attempted to seduce her, to get her on his side. He wore his tightest shirts just for her, even when the weather killed him. He walked her home a few times more since being employed there, and sat and waited for her to lure alleycats to pet them, or rushed with her to buy a baguette so she could feed the pigeons, or any number of useless things she thought to do in the evening.
“But… Tom, does this…” she started, chewing on her lip.
“Yes?” he asked, tension filling him as well.
“Does this make us boyfriend and girlfriend?”
His mind blanched, not helped by her looking up at him with those wide eyes, her lips so close, so kissable…
“W-would you like to be?”
He went back down to the basement smiling, his lips still warm after a little kiss. He touched his lips once finally alone, the taste of her already fleeting.
“Pull yourself together, Tom,” he said. “This is not the time to simper for a muggle.”
The rest of the day was compromised, naturally, as all either of them could think about was the coming Saturday when their date was arranged. There was a clandestine air about it too, as nobody else knew that they were going. It was exactly the sort of attitude he wanted to inspire in her about the two of them.
III
The museum Tom took her to was the Palazzo Altemps. In centuries past an aristocratic mansion, now home to a collection of art that spanned from antiquity to the Renaissance. It looked frail and solid all at once, full of colour and yet gloriously dead, the statues staring at them like beautiful corpses, frescoes billowing across the walls.
Tom thought it did well to cover the historical periods that she, too, was interested in, if her taste in books was any measure. He was right, she positively gushed when they came across the bust of someone whose book they had in their collection. But she was mostly fond of those displays that splattered across the eras, ancient Roman statues standing tall and cold against a faded fresco a thousand years younger, looking soft and fragmentary in shades of gold and blue that once used to be crimson and black before the ages changed them.
“Can you imagine living here?” she whispered, her head tilting back in ecstasy. A long, floral corridor stretched out before them, with a garden to the right seeping with a milky light. “So wide and open and beautiful…”
“I couldn’t,” he grumbled. “Think of how much maintenance such a place would require…”
His new girlfriend laughed at him, the chime of it resounding through the halls.
For Tom’s part, he was mostly struck by the conspicuous differences between things. Mainly those within himself. It was a strange experience to look upon the art of muggles as a wizard, and the art of Italy as an Englishman. He was, in this way, twice a foreigner, and yet…He felt like everything there welcomed him.
In spite of his criticism of the place, he knew he could be at home among those gentle smiles, the unseeing eyes, the outstretched arms, and even saw parts of himself in the leisure of a lean white leg or a smooth abdomen, or a gentle curl of hair. The thread-thin reeds in the distant landscape of a fresco, or the vaporous rays of a sunset over the horizon of a city.
Beside him, he heard his companion stop, standing in smiling contemplation of the same thing. Her hand brushed against his, and suddenly it felt right to take it. He did, and in a fluid motion, as if nothing else could possibly follow such a gentle act, her head leaned to rest against his shoulder. He felt her warmth in the crook of his neck, the softness of her hair against his cheek, and Tom couldn’t help but lean a little closer. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.
IV
She took them to a nearby restaurant for lunch. She claimed not to know the area very well, as she hadn’t gone wandering there since her earliest days in Rome, but Tom had come to trust her choices.
“So you’ve seen all there is to see, is that it?” he asked with a lopsided smile. Suddenly, his whole itinerary for the day seemed lacking.
“There is always more to see in Rome,” she said with a dreamy smile, cheek resting in her palm.
She seemed genuinely happy, and that soothed Tom’s ego somewhat.
“How many years have you lived here?”
“Oh my, it’s been at least six by now, I think.”
“And you’ve been working for the Baron the whole time?”
“Only for the last four years. The first two, I drifted from job to job, just at other libraries and shops…”
“Why did you leave?” he asked, taking a sip of wine.
“Some went out of business. It was a more tumultuous period, after the war. Others, I wasn’t really happy at. Some owners were mean, rude, demanding…”
“Unlike the Baron?” Tom asked with a grin.
“He is a bit of all of that,” she admitted. “But the opportunity to work with those books was… impossible to refuse. His collection is unparalleled, at least in Italy.”
Tom smiled and looked down at his plate.
“You agree,” she said — not asked — as she looked at him intently. “You’re still after the Delomelanicon, aren’t you?”
“Is is a fine collection,” Tom shrugged. “But my employer has something truly worthy of envy. The most rare of ancient esoterica. I suppose that’s why he’s so keen on acquiring Torchia. It’s too good to be left with the Baron.”
To his surprise, she laughed, wine trembling in her glass as she held it. It was not a mocking laugh, but something truly amused and girlish.
“Typical,” she trilled, her eyes shining. “The arrogance of old collectors… Well, then I guess you’ll just have to compete with the French gentleman.”
“Who, Malfoy?” Tom smirked. “I don’t think he’s French.”
He wanted to slap himself for saying it, but could not resist bragging that he knew something that she didn’t.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I happen to have gone to school with him.”
And there it was, his flaw, his arrogance: the mad and senseless instinct to impress her. Yes, he too knew important people, he too rubbed elbows with the aristocracy, and had a life before all of this.
But she was far from impressed.
“You couldn’t have,” she scoffed.
“And why not?” asked Tom with a cold squint.
“Why? Because he must be at least fifty years old…”
“… Ah.”
And with that, all of Tom’s plans crumbled. Of course it had to be the elder Septimus Malfoy, not his son… He should have guessed it from the start. Abraxas would never have gone through so much trouble for something educational, and his father never would have trusted him with it.
“So, will you?” she asked, her cheeks full with an impish smile.
“Will I what?”
“Compete with him for the book.”
Tom stuffed his fork in his spaghetti bolognese and frowned. There were various ways to say yes, and various ways to lie. Out of all of them, he chose the riskiest one.
“I will, with your help, if you wish to give it.”
She smirked and looked up from underneath her lashes. “Are you trying to take advantage of our special relationship?”
“Only if you let me,” he winked.
V
The concert was held in a park, where a wooden stage was raised in front of a tall fountain, lights hanging all around with garlands of fake paper flowers. There were seats among the flowerbeds and stands in the back with drinks. Tom bought two glasses of champagne for them, and they sat shoulder to shoulder, their coats up to their ears like barn owls to keep the midnight cold at bay.
It was a jazz concert, a novelty for Tom for whom it meant nothing, but she seemed to enjoy it. The band, a local group all dressed in black, played tunes that ranged from the energetic to the dour, and the air was filled with so much sound that Tom felt it in his chest. It was a completely new experience. He’d never gone out to enjoy music on his own, nor did he enjoy it in private either. Unlike most of his Slytherin classmates, he actually knew how to work a radio, but he’d always found sound in the background to be distracting when he worked.
And as he sat and listened to the band, he found no reason to change his opinion. Music was a waste of time, he thought. After each song, the audience applauded, and with the champagne glass tucked between his legs, he did so too, but privately he felt nothing. Their music was too fast-paced, too rushed, too out of pace with his own feelings.
He used the time to think of Mr. Malfoy. What did he really know about him? He’d been invited to his house for Abraxas’ seventeenth birthday, so they’d met. He remembered sprawling gardens with marble pillars, swans sliding on a lake, and a large, cold house. Tom knew Septimus to be a tall pale figure, distant, resplendent, and utterly dedicated to his family — not that Abraxas ever appreciated it.
The Malfoys were faultlessly hospitable to him, no doubt having heard of his magical skills from their son, and perhaps of his heritage too. But behind their manners and their perfect smiles, Tom detected, without even having to use Legilimency, disgust at his half-blood status, and underneath that, a certain envy.
He could only imagine, then, what reaction Mr. Malfoy would have at seeing him working for muggles in a foreign country. He sighed and bowed his head, his soul swirling with anguish and horror at the mess that was to come. And there was no avoiding it…
At his side, he felt a gentle hand. She nuzzled close to him, turning to look at him, frowning, as if to ask what was wrong. Tom raised her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on it, and for a moment all his worries were gone.
VI
They were walking side by side down the street that led to her home. After hours spent together, walking, briefly talking, looking at each other or just feeling one another’s presence, it was difficult for Tom to get back into the habit of hiding himself so well. He couldn’t even muster up the tried and true old charms he used with wealthy witches back in England. He was too much of himself that night, and he wasn’t sorry at being, however faintly, seen.
“What are you thinking about?”
He turned to smile at her. “You, of course,” he said.
“No you weren’t.” She was giggling, but through the midnight dark, Tom thought he saw sadness in her eyes.
He sighed. “Alright, I wasn’t.”
“Is it the books?”
He chuckled. She wasn’t far off, in a way. “Am I that transparent?”
“No,” she grinned, wrapping her arm around his. “Quite impenetrable, actually. It was just a lucky guess.”
“Is that so?”
“I used to think about books too, that’s all. Often even outside of work. It was fun, it’s… an infinite subject to get lost in.”
“Used to? What do you think about nowadays, then?”
That caught her off guard. “Erm, you know, everyday sort of things.”
Tom tightened his grip on her arm and made her look at him. With her gaze wide and open on his, he chanced a quick prod into her mind. He met no resistance, in fact, save for a milky smooth veneer, her thoughts were clear as crystal.
He saw himself. And one head shorter and a little less defined was a figure he recognised as her. Tom found it amusing that she saw him more clearly than she saw herself. They were kissing. His arms were around her, his hands gripping her head to hold her still. There was a swaying to their motions that seemed to change direction. It soon became clear to Tom that they were making love. His body covered hers in the middle of a plush darkness, their bodies like pillars of light, they moved together as smoothly as seafoam.
Her eyes went wide when he spent a moment too long looking at her, and she shifted her gaze away to the sidewalk. Her building was already in view. Did she guess that he had read her mind? It wasn’t possible…
Tom chuckled. He reached up and hooked a finger underneath her chin to tilt her face back up to look at him.
“Do you have something to tell me?” he asked, feeling more smug now than he had any right to be. “Hm? Do you want to show me something?”
She exhaled, and even that sounded shaky. “Maybe,” she said in a small voice. “W-would you like to come inside?” She didn’t even finish saying it before she blushed — more at her own phrasing than anything.
“I would.”
#Tom Riddle#Tom Riddle x reader#Tom Riddle x OC#Tom Riddle fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sswallow;fanfics#sswallow;made a thing#fanfic;englishclient
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You've done what ifs where Aro or Carlisle swapped places with Dumbledore, but what if the protagonists swapped roles instead? Harry Swan and Bella Potter? How would that go?
Anon's referring to this post as well as this post.
Caveat That Bears Repeating
I've said this a number of times in these kinds of posts already, but the thing is that backstories matter. Harry and Bella don't just pop into existence, informed by nothing, they all have histories that lead them to where they end up in canon.
Bella has her parent's messy divorce, her alienation from her father, her irresponsible mother, as well as the socialization of being an American girl in the early 2000's.
Harry is an orphan physically and mentally abused by his surviving relatives, at the age of eleven he suddenly discovers that in a secret society he's bigger than the Beatles, he's a young British boy in the early 1990's who then is thrust into the wizarding world culture.
My point is that as much as I can theorize what Bella or Harry would be like in the AU where Bella's now a British girl living in a cupboard beneath the stairs and Harry's now living with Renee, it's just me handwaving and guessing.
I really don't know with these things.
With that said, we can try.
Bella Potter
We'll say the Dursleys pull the exact same shit with Bella as they would Harry. I imagine Bella's almost New Moon levels of depressed at eleven.
She thinks she's ugly and is purposefully made so by her relatives (given bad haircuts, clothes that don't fit, probably Dudley's castoffs making her look more tom-boyish and less 'cute' than what might be acceptable), she's told her parents were drunks and losers, and her family despises her and thinks she's stupid and a waste of space.
I imagine Bella often contemplates whether it'd be better if she'd never been born in the first place. Where Harry reacted with anger, I imagine from what we see of canon, Bella crumples in on herself.
Then she discovers she's a witch, that weird scar on her forehead that she always tries to cover a sign of her defeating You-Know-Who, and that her parents were wonderful people.
Bella waits for the other shoe to drop, for people to realize she's a phony, that she's not cool, special, pretty, or anything any of these people seem to believe she is based on nothing. Worse, Bella would want to come clean, but she doesn't want to lose any of this.
Hagrid is treating her nicely, on the train that boy Ron genuinely seems to like her and think she's cool and interesting, she has friends and people think she can do things.
Bella's terrified of being found out as a fraud which makes her more nervous than Neville in trying to use magic (especially in Potions where Snape mercilessly bullies her and thus makes her even worse than she otherwise would have been).
However, this gets in the way of typical Harry adventures, as Bella to the best of her ability keeps her nose down and out of trouble (as then everyone would hate her again). As a result, she doesn't save Hermione from the troll, Ron eventually gets bored of her and thinks of her as another girl, she doesn't go after the Philosopher's Stone or later involve herself with the Chamber of Secrets debacle.
Voldemort gets the stone offscreen (likely eventually able to get through the enchantment on the mirror) and is able to resurrect himself at which point Bella is terrified as everyone's now expecting her to do something about it.
"I am twelve?" Bella asks, then cries because she's not a magical princess like everyone wants her to be.
Harry Swan
Where Bella is depressed, Harry is angry.
Harry's not happy about moving to Forks but it was made clear he didn't have much choice. He's very bitter with Renee about this and bitter at Charlie in general for being an absentee father. He's ready to take on the whole school, gossiping all about him he's sure, and spit in their faces.
Unlike Hogwarts, as he doesn't want to be here and doesn't have good preconceptions, it's the equivalent of him being told he's going to Malfoy Boarding School in Malfoy County, to a place where he's sure to hate the people and they're sure to be looking for any weakness. (Remember, Bella did not at all have a good perception of Forks or its people).
He, in fact, immediately does so just to make sure they know where he stands. Yeah, he knows his mom ran off, what about it? I imagine he gets in a fist fight with Mike Newton on his first day, Harry is labeled a delinquent.
He catches a look at the Cullens and thinks they're rich freaks and weirdos who moved to this nowhere town. Charlie is at his wits end with Harry and utterly unsure how to deal with him as most the kids in town don't make this kind of trouble.
Unfortunately for Harry, he catches Edward's interest, unfortunately for Harry, with his outspoken anger and bitterness he's not Edward's type.
There's only two doors for someone with the smell, Edward takes the door labeled "eat me, I'm delicious".
#twilight#twilight meta#twilight headcanon#twilight renaissance#bella swan#harry potter#anti harry potter#harry potter meta#harry potter headcanon#meta#headcanon#opinion
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2023 Art Summary
Some of the many things I worked on over the past 365 days. More details below.
Happy New Year!
Just like last year, 2023 was full of even more character art, including a brand spanking new OC. You haven't seen much of the comic yet, because it's not done, but there's been progress on that in the background as well. I also started commissions last March. None are featured in this post so I could focus more on original art, but I wanted to give a special thank-you to all my past commissioners. Not a single one of you were a customer service nightmare, in fact it was quite the opposite. I appreciate everyone who's been kind enough to give me work and treat me well.
The rest of this post is going to be some of my favorite pieces by month, and a little about them. I usually spare my followers from most details in my posts, because there's often not much of interest to the public to say, so this is mostly self indulgent.
January
I decided to revisit Tom and Maudlin, as I hadn't drawn them much since creating them. Whenever I make a new character of importance, I try to go out of my way to put them in varied poses and expressions so that I am able to understand how their bodies work by the time I need them for a real project. It's also a great way to explore their personalities, although I feel that I'll have to push Tom's emotional side more in the future.
February
Props for the comic! It sucks to have to design things on the fly, so it helps to have notable objects designed beforehand. Especially if it's important to the plot. Some of these appear in more panels than others, but it smooths out the comic process nevertheless to have ample references on hand.
March
More character designs to spare me from designing mid-comic production. If they don't have lines in the comic, then I ask random people to assign names to them to make it fun, and because it's easier to keep straight who's who when they're not named Man 1 and Man 2. Left to right, they are Johnifer (you can already see why I name the ones with dialogue myself), Wanda, Jean Vincent, Booker, Charles, Maribelle, and Gertrude.
April
It'd be silly of me to pretend as if 90% of my output isn't shitposts. When you dedicate most of your art time to a project, then you're not going to end up making any other art unless you satisfy primitive monkey brain somehow. In my case, that's usually addressed by drawing funny shit. Early this year is when I discovered how easy it is to crack jokes with Scatterbrain. This goofiness is now embedded into her personality permanently. Expect more of this.
May
April-June is when I do my Art Fight preppin', which usually consists of me making a list of my most neglected OCs and giving them some attention. I also try to get around to eventually making all of them a reference sheet in this style, just so they have something standardized between them. This year, Walla Walla had her turn. She's a shitpost character, so I won't be drawing her much again, but she's a good excuse to draw some J-fashion doodles. My interests outside of cartoon stupidity don't really make it into my art often, so she's a minor outlet for some of it.
June
I've made even more character designs this year than last year, but they were all background characters, making Raoul the only new important one. He's been officially-unofficially written into the story since 2022, but it's very hard for me to make OCs that are written before they are designed. Everyone else was designed first and assigned a role in the plot later, so he got put off for a good while. I finally got around to it though, after I killed some darlings. He is now an all-new species, and I modified the chain design to something less clunky compared to what would be historically accurate.
July
July is, of course, Art Fight month. All other art is put on pause. This year, my favorite attack was a drawing of Enchanted Bones for my friend Bugles. I drew the character independently from the background, which is why the lighting situation is as unfortunate as it is, but we don't talk about that. Thank you to everyone who attacked me and made awesome art, I'll revenge you maybe in a few years. Sorry for the wait, but the backlog is mighty long.
August
Stanson got a slight redesign in the last year, so he can fit with the style of the comic better. He's actually the oldest character out of the bunch. I had no purpose for Scott when I made him and threw them together in the same folder. I had a few one-off designs that I figured I'd keep around in case I ever did an OCT, but these two got yoinked out of it when I started getting story ideas for the them. Stanson is a cowboy (not really), so it became a western setting to make sense of it. I plan on giving him the same sketchpage treatment the other characters have gotten, but I've been putting it off purposely for a while. You'll just have to wait.
September
And there it is, the inevitable page of Raoul getting into various mischief (and subsequently getting his ass beat half of the time). He has a very abrasive personality that gets him into trouble. I don't want the comic to be heavily action-based, but he naturally lands himself in these positions and it lets me draw characters in new situations. His introduction to the story is still a long way off at this point, but I can't wait to pit him against Scott in some slapstick shenanigans.
October
Spooky month is incredibly busy for me in real life, so there isn't as much time for art as I'd like there to be. That's why I dedicated all my time that month to trying to get Halloween art done in time. I've been a fan of Homestar Runner since childhood, and as soon as I thought that Raoul would pull off a Jigen Daisuke look, I knew I wanted to do a full Homestar-esque set of costumes. The other ideas quickly fell into place. My version came out way more detailed than theirs usually are though. The spirit of Halloween possessed me.
November
I started going full gear on the comic around this time (I think 28 hours in one week when I stayed home), so there's an absence of polished personal art here. Scatterbrain eating some spaghetti is my placeholder art for "I worked on a website a bunch instead". It's far from done, but I've made major strides since then.
December
A secret santa gift for my friend, Toby! I continued doing mostly comic work, but I also made room for a secret santa and scheduled a bunch of art trades to complete between December and March. The rest still have to be completed, so you'll see that throughout 2024. Anyway, Toby's OC, Thomas, is based on the state of Michigan. I plastered him on a postcard in front of a highway sign with some Robins because they're the state bird.
There were many more drawings of course, and you can find them scrolling through my Tumblr, or on my DeviantART (I switched to Tumblr as my main site in late August). I hope the new year brings many improvements and happiness for everyone. Last year my goal was simply to start on the comic, which I did, but it was also to get it uploadable, which I didn't. I'm gonna have to aim for the same goal again. Life things were largely fine but still tumultuous enough to throw me off-course, but now my most dangerous family member has moved out and it should be somewhat safer to live here. Not 100% safe though. It never will be. I generally avoid talking about the comic extensively as I won't have a solid release date for some time, so this is the last you'll hear of it for now outside of the rare WIP screenshot. Wish me luck and have a wonderful new year!
#art#artists on Tumblr#Happy New Year#long post#art summary#2023 summary#summary of art#summary of art 2023
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Winnie the Pooh Version: Wilbur and Tommy Go for a Walk and Build a New Home Together
Right after the day when everything went terribly wrong, when the L’Manberg elections had just concluded and the Exile of Great Proportions had occurred, Tommy stood in the middle of a creek watching the leaves flow down the current to wherever they were going. At first when he dropped them in, the leaves went slowly, and then as the creek split into different streams to hurry past rocks, the leaves would speed up, separating, and then eventually coming back together again. He dropped a few more leaves in the creek, and watched them flow away from each other, and then back together again.
There are many paths that creeks might take. But the creek is not in a hurry. It has no worries, nothing to trouble it. For it has been around for a long time, and knows that there is no rush to get where you are going, no matter how many twists it might take to get there.
Just as Tommy was starting to feel like his thinking mood might have turned into a sad mood, Wilbur came up along the path.
“Hello,” Wilbur said.
“Hullo,” Tommy said as he climbed out of the creek.
“Come on Tom,” Wilbur said, “Let’s go.”
Tommy gathered up a few interesting but still damp rocks he had found and plopped them in his pocket. After they had wandered for a while in thoughtful silence, just enjoying each other’s company, Wilbur started to gather some sticks.
“What is the plan for the day, Wilbur?” Tommy asked.
“Hmmm, well I’m not sure. You just were looking a little aimless so I felt like I should give you something to do.”
“I’m not aimless.” Tommy said, annoyed, “I’m awesome. And hilarious.”
“I know you are Tommy but you are also Aimless,” Wilbur had collected a full armful of sticks and he now turned to Tommy and handed him the stack, “You’re aimless because Tubbo is still with Schlatt and it’s Bothering you.”
“I am never bothered,” Tommy said, in a bothered tone of voice.
“Yes you are.”
“I am unbothered and also sly, like a butterfly.”
“Well I am right. I know a lot more words than you and am smart and well read like an Owl.”
“A stupid owl.” In spite of what he said, Tommy knew Wilbur could spell hard words, like necessary, and Tuesday, which would make anyone a respectable person. This clearly meant that he would come up with a plan about what to do. Nobody who could spell necessary could be wrong or aimless.
Wilbur turned to a small clearing in the woods where there was a small hill, “Alright dumb butterfly, let’s make this into a home then.”
“Did you bring a bed, so we can set our spawn?”
They both looked at each other for a minute. “Fine.” Tommy said, “I’ll go look for a sheep.”
“I will start organizing what we have and making sure that everything is here.”
Tommy however was not prone to productivity, he was prone to mischief. At least, that’s what he told himself as he scurried away looking for sheep. As he was wandering off, mostly to get away from any Responsibility that Wilbur wanted to bestow on him, Tommy thought about how much easier it would be to steal some wool from Eret than to get it from a sheep himself. Eret was practically begging to be stolen from, as he had such a large castle, and wasn’t at all exiled. He was also so easy to rob in the past, in fact, he had given Tommy wood and enchanted books on multiple occasions. That proved that robbery was successful and also a good idea.
Just then Tommy, who, having no shears, sense of direction, or armor about him, came upon a beautiful white sheep. The sheep looked up at him with his beautiful sheep eyes and baa-ed at him pleadingly. At this point Tommy was rather hungry and also rather cold. It would be very easy to kill the sheep and have the resources that Wilbur needed.
“Ohhh,” Tommy groaned, finally petting the sheep’s fluffy black nose, “I can’t kill you can I? Your name is going to be Herbert.” The sheep looked up at him with his knowing and intelligent sheep eyes.
If Wilbur were there, he would not kill the sheep, Tommy rationalized to himself, in fact, Wilbur always condoned robbery. Robbery is the best idea possible.
And so with that, Tommy headed back over to L’Manberg and up a hill to Eret’s castle. Eret’s castle was large, colorful, and well established. It had many things that a Young and Prosperous young man might need. Like wool for setting his spawn. As he approached the tower with all the chests, he saw a sign over the door, which said, “Ring to enter.” There was a piece of string hanging down from the ceiling, which was probably attached to a doorbell. Tommy politely pulled on the door bell, and waited to see if Eret the Stupid and Robbable would come let him inside.
The door cracked open and Eret poked out his head. “Oh! Hello Tommy.”
“Hello Eret.” Tommy said, putting his hands behind his back, “I’m here to rob you.”
“Again?” Eret chuckled and opened the door to let Tommy inside. “What do you need?”
But Tommy had already made himself quite at home and was shoving handfuls of meat in his pockets for later, as well as some iron which Eret probably didn’t need, and a stack of wool. “You don’t need any of this do you? Good. Because I’m taking it from you. You’ve been robbed.”
“Oh,” said Eret, “Well, I am open to helping you and Wilbur, if you ever wanted it you can just ask.”
“Oh yeah, traitor?” Tommy said, “Well I’m open to helping take away your wool.”
Eret chuckled in a very Eret way and stopped pushing the matter. “Would you like some honey and tea before you go? You look a little bit cold. There’s no need to be all by yourself in the cold.”
“No, no,” Tommy said, “I am in charge here.” He put his hands on his hips and looked up spitefully into Eret’s sunglasses.
“I guess you are,” Eret conceded, just wanting to be helpful. “Are you heading out right away then?”
“Bye,” Tommy said, and made sure to close the door behind him quietly, so as not to disturb Eret’s house too much. He was a good and kind robber, after all.
Tommy hurried back to the new dirt house Wilbur was preparing with some food and wool in hand. When he arrived, he and Wilbur both set their spawns, and then they split the meal in a nice mossy patch underneath some trees.
The sun was just getting a little bit low, and there were cicadas singing in the trees. If you held still and paid attention, you could see the fireflies blinking on and off lazily between the branches and around the leaves.
Wilbur and Tommy sat there for a long time together, saying nothing at all, and listening to the sound of the world around them. Everything seemed so incredibly different than before, but it was also somehow exactly the same.
“I know you’re bothered, but he’s still your Tubbo you know,” Wilbur finally said.
“I know,” Tommy replied.
“And, am I still your Wilbur?”
“Yes,” Tommy said, “Of course.”
“Will you promise to understand, if I, you know…” Wilbur looked thoughtful.
“Understand what?” Tommy asked.
“Oh. Nothing,” Wilbur said.
Then while they sat there Wilbur told Tommy about a lot of things, as he was still in a thinking mood. He told Tommy about his visions for L’Manberg, and for the presidency, of what it was like to be president and how it was not at all like what he thought it would be. He told Tommy about how he cared so much for the country, and him, and Tubbo, and Nikki, and Fundy. And he told Tommy stories of places he had been before L’Manberg, and about people Tommy had never heard of before, and things he had never seen. Castles, mountains, heroes of other lands.
While Wilbur explained things like adults sometimes do, Tommy was also thinking very hard about things. “You’ve left a lot of places.” Tommy said finally, “But I’ve always lived in my little dirt hut besides my carrot farm in L’Manberg. I haven’t gone anywhere.” After a pause, listening to the cicadas sing, and remembering that he had in fact left his carrot farm, and Tubbo, and his country, Tommy scowled. “Wil,” he asked softly, “are you going to stay?”
“Of course,” Wilbur said.
“Will we be friends forever Wil?”
“Yeah,” Wilbur responded, “forever.”
Tommy nudged him, “Just like brothers?”
“Okay stop. I will cry.” Wilbur stood up suddenly, “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where to?”
“I don’t know. The next adventure.”
And so they went inside the unfinished cave, which wasn’t yet connected to the ravine of Pogtopia. And unbeknownst to them, the creek from before flowed underground and into some caves in the ravine. The creek didn’t worry about how it would get where it was going, it was happy to split apart and come back together again in due time. It was from nowhere and going nowhere, but the creek was happy to experience the journey. And so was Tommy.
#dream smp#tommyinnit#wilbur soot#crime boys#crime bois#winnie the pooh au#i am too excited to wait to post this#so here it is raw and unfiltered#i love them so much
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too early
this is a lil fluffy blurb after the state of his ig stories the other mornings I also realise I am VERY late on this but hey ho
tomhollandxreader
fluff + implied smut
It was simply too early to function. Too early to think. Definitely too early to have any logical thought or attempt any form of comprehensible communication. That’s why when the frankly obnoxious chimes of the default iPhone ringtone reverberated through the previously peaceful room, the reaction of the two inhabitants was delayed to say the least.
It took at least 2 cycles of the noise for you to be pulled from your deep sleep into a semi-conscious state, at which point as a reflex you just rolled over hoping to muffle out the noise with your head pressed downwards. Yet, the pitch of the ringer was just at that ‘sweet spot’ where it was impossible to even try to drown out - one that physically reverberated through your skull. It made you groan whilst growing a lot more consciously aware of your surroundings - particularly to the deadweight of a boyfriend you were currently trying to hide your face into - his strong chest still proving no match for the incessant alarm noise. Fed up and angry for being disturbed, you unpicked your arm from the weird sleeping position it had somehow ended up in , curled weirdly under your right boob, and then shoved at Tom’s side multiple times - rocking him back and fourth.
With a sleepy and incomprehensible word falling off his lips, he then jerkily and suddenly craned his neck up - you felt the movement against the top of your head.
“Turn your fucking phone off” Grumbling into his side, you reworked your legs to try and get comfy again - more than ready for him to decline the call and the two of you to go back to bed. Tom was still incredibly confused and disorientated from the haze of sleep, taking him moments for the cogs to start turning as he stretched over to his bedside table and grabbed the vibrating device from hell…. maybe a bit dramatic but you loved your sleep.
With a mutter ‘shit’ as he winced at the phones brightness, Tom pressed his eyes closed, building up the bravery to face the offensive blue light again. It took a couple of blinks for him to be able to focus on the screen, but when he did his eyebrows furrowed even more at the name and he swiped to unlock the phone - which due to the lack of speed surely was about to ring out.
“-ello?” The hoarse and croaky sound of his voice reverberating round in his chest had you instantly arching up, looking at him with a puzzled and puffy eyes. You couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but tried to get the drift of the situation purely from reading Tom’s facial expressions in the low light of the bedroom.
“You’re late Holland”
“I’m-I’m late? It’s like-“ Tom cut himself off with a cough to try to clear the morning voice, whilst simultaneously looking over at the bedside to read the clock that said 5:37 am. “It’s 5”
“No it’s 5:40 and we agreed to be at the gym at half past”
Ah. Tom realised. He might’ve forgotten about the fact he agreed to an early morning training session before the morning shoot for Spiderman.
“Oh shit um I-“
“Overslept? Yeh could tell mate. Just get your ass down here I’m waiting on your fucking door step and it’s fucking freezing”
“Sorry I’ll be right down.”
With that Duffy instantly hung up, the automated tone allowing Tom to throw his head back in sheer desperation. Because he knew he had your pouty eyes to face.
“What the fuck did you do?” Of course, your sleepy eyes were still managing to pierce Tom’s soul as he sighed, feeling your chin lying on his sternum, knowing the disapproving way you were looking at him.
“I-“ Opening his eyes and trying to soften you up by cupping one of your cheeks with his hand, thumb gently stroking up and down your cheek. “I might’ve forgot I’ve got a PT session.”
“In the middle of the night?” The look in your big y/e/c eyes was so close to making Tom leaving Duffy on the doorstep all morning- instead opt for a blissful start to the day with you cradled in his arms.
“Before the morning shoot… you go back to sleep love, you won’t even realise I’m gone.” Sighing, Tom lugged himself into a sitting position, forcing you to slide off his body and curl up in the now emptiness of the bed. Honestly, there was nothing Tom would rather do than crawl back up to you and fall asleep in your arms, yet he knew that realistically tomorrow was his day off so that was very soon on the itinerary. Also he just would feel exceptionally crappy if he didn’t get a work out in today, because even if it didn’t feel like it at this very minute, exercise was one of his happy places. You were probably the happiest but the gym made a close second or third place. But finally and most importantly, he was not getting out of this because his shrt tempered and incredibly bulky PT was waiting impatiently at the doorstep.
The issue Tom had though was perhaps just how quickly you agreed, he felt like no sooner had he told you to lie back had you already started to collapse into the pillows. So, after throwing a heather grey top and his simple nike hoodie on he couldn’t help but lean back over the bed to dust your cheek and nose with light kisses.
“You’re not missing me?” He spoke with a pout, while you groaned slightly, eyes fluttering open.
“I love you, but …. I love my bed more” Your sleepy grin completely had Tom enchanted, even in the dim light of dawn, he wanted to memorise every little detail of your face.
“Could the bed have made you cry out its name like I did last night?” The glint of mischief was infuriating, a dirty smirk on his face.
“Maybe you do have you some uses” Sniggering, you pulled at the tufts of his brown curls at the base of his neck, enjoying the way he leaned further into you at the action. “Anyway you absolutely cannot leave like that.”
“Am I just too sexy in my joggers?” Feeling incredibly self fulfilled, at what he thought was a compliment Tom smiled, leaning back up and starting to edge toward the bedroom door. The small beam of light from the hallway that reached through the door even more illuminating the state of him, as if backlight just to exaggerate his stupid look even further. It had you giggling incessantly, even though you were currently being deprived of sleep, it was all worth it to see the absolute birds nest on top of his scalp - the way his brown curls extended and stretched out in every direction, similar to if he had been fried with electricity. The only possible cause for anyone to have the audacity of their hair doing that, only had a single explanation - and the truth of it had you biting your lips slightly, the memory of last night washing gloriously over you.
“Nope… you still have sex hair you idiot and I’d prefer for Duffy not to know the intimate details of our Friday nights.”
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Use it well
Summary: Harry and Ginny discuss giving the Invisibility Cloak to their oldest son.
For @velvethopewrites! Hope you have a wonderful birthday 💖
Thanks so much for @gryffindorhealer for helping me sort out this!
______
'Al — no, stop it, I don't care what James said, you can't just take his wand — Lily, you don't fit in his trunk, get out — James, it's eleven already, just go to sleep — Al, I told you, no wand!'
There is a puff of dark purple smoke, and then silence.
Al drops the wand quickly, hurrying outside the room, Lily leaves James' trunk following her brother out, and Ginny shakes her wand to vanish the smoke.
'Thanks', James says, picking up his wand and placing it carefully on the bedside table, before lying lazily in his bed. 'Didn't fancy spending my last night here coughing that smoke.'
There is a smile in the corner of Ginny's mouth. 'Last night,' she repeats, amused. 'You are going to Hogwarts, not leaving here forever.'
James shrugs, eyes moving to watch his things, all meticulously ready for the trip tomorrow. He was never the most organized, but his enthusiasm is evident; he dreamt of Hogwarts ever since he saw Teddy going six years ago, talking about it non-stop.
And since Ginny is the last person that could judge him for wanting to do something his older brother did, she just messies with his dark red hair.
'Try to rest, James. You don't want to sleep through the journey tomorrow.'
'Did you?,' he asks curiously. 'Sleep the night before.'
Ginny remembers writing in Tom's diary the night before Hogwarts, sharing her excitement with him. That was before, when he was playing nice, when he was her friend.
But she doesn't want to damp James' mood, so she goes with: 'Not really. But my mother told me too anyway.'
He laughs a little, then he looks away, biting his lips, a telltale announcement of his embarrassment. 'Mum… before I sleep, could you call Dad?'
She feels a sudden urge to run and hug him. Eleven years, ready to start his magic education, acting all confident around his young siblings, and her first son wants his father's assurance.
But she doesn't do anything. She remembers hugging her parents before embarking Hogwarts, desperate to go after years dreaming of it, and yet a little afraid too.
'Sure. Good dreams, James.'
He smiles at her, and Ginny leaves the room.
She should check her other kids, but they are quiet in their room after that purple smoke and she will first get Harry.
But when she arrives at their room, Harry is sitting in the bed, a thoughtful look on his face, and to Ginny's surprise he holds his Invisibility Cloak in his hand, feeling the fabric.
She frowns for a moment before closing the door and sitting next to him, keeping her expression devoid of any concern.
'Crisis averted,' she announces quietly. 'Purple smoke drove the kids away.'
'Purple smoke?'
'Yeah, Albus was playing with James' new wand and this felt like a good occasion for a tiny drop of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Albus thought he did it and they all thought they were in trouble, and that was the end.'
There is a shadow of a smile on his face, but his lips stay still. 'Good one.'
'Yeah, well, I use my tricks while they work. Soon enough they will be too smart for it.'
She waits for him to say something, but Harry just keeps looking sorrowful. Her hand flies to the back of his neck, massaging it, hoping to ease his tension.
'James called you. He wants some fatherly advice.'
'He is nervous.'
'More than he admits, yeah.'
'I was on my way to talk to him — sorry for letting you handle them alone —'
'Nothing I couldn't take care of, Harry,' she says, shrugging. 'Just between us, I will miss all this noise.'
'Yeah…'
Harry's mind is still far away. She lays her head over his shoulder, her hand touching his over the soft fabric of the cloak.
'What's going on, Harry?' she asks softly.
He sighs.
'I am going to give James the Invisibility Cloak.'
She nods, quietly. They've already discussed this — how Harry doesn’t use his cloak much anymore ever since he started working as Head Auror, how they can trust James to not make too much trouble —, but it seems something else is bothering him.
‘I thought of wrapping it, attaching a note to tell him to use it well, you know, all mysterious like the card I received, and I was going to, but… it felt weird.’
‘Why?’
He bites his lip, looking very much like his son doing the same, as much as James resembles Ginny more.
‘It’s the only thing I have,’ he whispers. When she looks confused, raising her eyebrows, he gives her a guilty look. ‘That was my father’s, only his.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s stupid,’ he adds, looking sheeplish, and she can see the bricks he is using to build a wall around him. She entwines their fingers, and Harry closes his hand, pressing her fingers as if he wants to share her strength.
‘No, it’s not. It makes sense.’
‘No, I mean, this is as much mine as it’s James and Albus and Lily’s, it’s their inheritance too —’
‘I said it made sense, not that it was right,’ she notes kindly.
He nods. ‘I know. I feel so… spoiled, like I have this shiny toy I don’t want to lend to anyone —’
'Now you are being unfair,’ she cuts him. ‘You are many things, Harry, but spoiled you never were. Too humble for that, it was always your charm.’
‘But if I can’t give it away—’
‘You are not. Giving it away, I mean. I think you are just looking at it the wrong way. The Cloak will remain yours just as it will be James’, and someday Albus’ and Lily’s too’. Ginny turns to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Just like it still belongs to James Potter and your grandfather and all the family you once saw in that enchanted Mirror.’
Harry smiles distantly. ‘The first time I saw that Mirror I was using this Cloak. It was the first time I was seeing my family, you know?’ Ginny nods quietly. This is a story that always makes her eyes tear up a bit, but she won’t cry, not now. ‘I have so many good memories of this Cloak.’
‘We’ve even made a few,’ she notes, winking at him, and Harry almost chuckles. ‘I think cryptic messages are overrated. Just show the Cloak to James. He will love it.’ She hesitates just a little. ‘And… isn’t this better this way? Sharing this moment with him?’
He smiles sadly. ‘It’s what my father would want, right?’
Ginny sighs. ‘I don’t know. This is something we can only guess. But — what do you want?’
‘Well,’ his smile is a little more normal now, ‘he will get into much more trouble if he doesn’t have it.’
‘Harry,’ she calls softly. ‘Why do you want?’
He turns to her, raising his free hand to hold her face.
‘I want him to be happy. I want him to enjoy the Cloak like I did — less walks to the Forbidden Forest, though, more late night walks to the kitchen.’
‘He will,’ she assures him. ‘We made this world so he could have fun, not use it to survive.’
‘And this is all I wish for him,’ he says, more at ease now.
‘He will cherish this moment forever,’ she assures him, and Harry nods before placing a kiss softly on her lips.
‘Thanks, Gin.’
‘Anytime, Harry,’ she smiles. ‘Just don’t mention the Marauder’s Map, or he won’t ever stop pestering Teddy.’
Harry laughs.
She walks to kiss Lily good night and to turn off the light of Albus’ room (he always forgets it), making sure the blankets are covering them and they are finally resting. Then she goes back to James’ room, pausing at the door when she hears their laughs.
James laughs like Harry in his best moments — carefree, at ease, no weight on his shoulders.
She peeks inside. Only James’ head is visible as he tries the Invisibility Cloak, looking at himself in the mirror, while Harry beams at his son. Then James sits in the bed, still wearing the cloak as if he doesn’t ever want to lift it off, listening attentively to Harry.
'It's a powerful item, James, and yet as any magical thing it's only powerful as its owner. Be smart. Remember that others can still hear you, and don't forget to avoid people as you walk with it.'
'Isn't it obvious?'
'People forget more than you'd think', laughs Harry, and Ginny has a sudden memory of the time Hermione caught them… busy. 'Promise me you will share the Cloak with your brother and sister in the future. It belongs to you three.'
'Yeah, yeah', agrees James, and even though he doesn't look concerned, Ginny knows he will do as promised in the future. He may complain, but he always does everything for his siblings.
‘And, please, James, no trips to Hogsmeade or to the Forbidden Forest until you learn how to really defend yourself.’
James grins, nodding, and Harry hugs him — looking weirdly hugging the emptiness where his son's body is still invisible.
Watching them, Ginny thinks she was partially right. It’s not only James that will appreciate this moment. And though she told Harry they could only guess, she knows James’ namesake would enjoy it too.
#T: fanfiction#Hinny fanfiction#Mah writes TNG sort of#Harry and Ginny#Potter Family#james sirius potter#Someday I'll manage not to mention James Potter in something I write
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Mobius' backstory delay = a really good sign for Lokius
The writers didn't just pull showing us Mobius' family from S1-- they likely shifted all the storytelling they wanted to do with that family onto the Other!Mobius we just met at the end of the S1 finale...
...and all of that is very, very good for Lokius.
How, you ask?
Consider that the one big difference from the Other!TVA to the one where we spent the rest of S1 is that they all know that a variant of He Who Remains runs the show. That heavily implies that none of the Other!TVA agents, including Mobius, are kidnapped variants. They all *just work there*. It's a regular, bureaucratic 9-5 job. No need to kidnap & brainwash people in this timeline: people are just recruited & work of their own free will. They have choices and their own lives. They go home at night when their shifts are over. Some of them likely have families. If you think the show just kicked Loki in the teeth over him realizing that he's in another timeline and this Mobius isn't his Mobius, wait until he meets this Mobius' *goddamned perfect, totally sweet, equally cinnamon-roll-y f*cking romantic partner*...
Other!Mobius: Oh, Agent Loki! I don't think you've met my other half yet. Honey, meet my new partner on the time force.
Ben Stiller (lol): So, you're the guy my husband can't stop talking about!
Loki: *dying a slow death inside* Ah, I do believe I hear B-15... Barbara... whatever her name is... summoning me for ah, some very important reason!... lovely to meet you!...
Y'all, Our Loki is going to have spent time during S2 in an alternate timeline where Mobius has a sweet guy and maybe a jet ski and probably a dog and maybe possibly a kid and definitely all the free will he can imagine and will be a lovely guy as all Mobi fundamentally are but won't be *Loki's* Mobius and won't have the experiences specifically that Loki's Mobius has that specifically make him the man who he is, who is also the man that Loki loves. All the boldly gluttonous amount of angst that the show wants to play with by giving Mobius a family around Loki just as Loki is realizing he wants to be Mobius' family is now something I'd be willing to bet they're doing with Other!Mobius in S2... for the express purpose of pushing Loki into action when he reunites with his Mobius.
The show spent time in S1 setting up the idea of Mobius regaining his memories and even had space to explore that in. I predict it was a consideration for Episode 5, when they all spent some time chilling in The Void and there was a strong theme in that episode in particular surrounding family and found family. Could they have had Mobius get his memories back and given him a family and would there still have been hope for Lokius? Of course. Mobius was almost certainly a younger adult in the 1990s, which means giving him a family without an express ability to get back to that family without, y'know, destroying the fabric of time (at least at this point in time) would have resulted in a really good, angsty plot. Or, hell, he could have *had* a family and might have even if we see his memories at some point. Maybe that husband from the other universe that Loki theorizes could be the love of Mobius' life in every universe? Maybe Loki's theory isn't wrong. He could enchant Mobius and we find out that the partner died or something. Ben Stiller could well be an universal constant, y'all, and even that might not even destroy Lokius. That's just truth.*
The point of doing anything with Mobius' various backstories on the show is going to be to advance Loki and Mobius' relationship in the present and that's going to be true even if these stupid time agent idiots don't just kiss at some point. It's true of their friendship as well as any potential romance. I think that learning what Other!Mobius' life is like in the other universe is going to lead Loki to continue to act very selflessly when it comes to his Mobius' happiness when they reunite (continuing off of having told him he was a variant in the first place in S1) and to make sure that he knows about IGiveUpOnCallingTheHusbandAnythingButBenStiller in the other universe. Loki will offer to enchant Mobius' memories back to try to reunite him with this potential long love. This'll kill them both dead inside, of course, as Loki was last seen doing the Rom Com Run of Love Awareness and Impending Confession at the end of S1 and Mobius had a scene so overtly jealous of Sylvie that they named the damn score to it "Lokius" so these two, by the time they reunite, are well aware that they are in love with one another but haven't *told* one another that yet.
Hell, this could even be how they do. What if Mobius' response is just to tell Loki that he doesn't need his memories back because who he was then isn't who he is now and he knows that he doesn't love Ben Stiller because he loves Loki and he knows without a doubt that he's never felt like this before?
Yeah, oh yeah, Lokius Nation, we're going there...
What else is the point of admitting that Tom & Owen, I mean, the writers!, decided to scrap the idea that Mobius has a guy waiting for him in a Texas Blockbuster in 1997 if not for making sure that, while there can be angst a-plenty, there ultimately isn't somebody else that our Mobius decides he has to honor his commitment to and shatter Loki into pieces over? The writers want to play with all the pain of these two, for sure, but this is Marvel, not The English Patient. (I'm making all the '90s references here, I know.) There's plenty of tragedy already here in this show that has an unusual obsession with hinting that they're steering this boat towards a version of Peggy & Steve's Endgame ending in the short term.
Kate Herron said they cut Mobius' family because they aren't sure what exactly his backstory is yet which is a way of saying that the one thing they *are* sure of is that they don't want him to have had a normal family life in the past-- otherwise, they would have just done that already. Why would you yank out all that angst when it's clear you still need to play with it because of the nature of Loki and Mobius' relationship? Why toss it to another Mobius to have the family and provide that scenario for Loki's development and his and Mobius' relationship development when there was an option to give it to our Mobius? Easy answer there:
they need a clear romantic path for our Mobius to Loki.
One could still have existed-- and still will exist-- if they give our Mobius a family in S2 but it's really suspect to me that they had plenty of opportunity to do that already and decided they didn't want to give him one and just said basically "we'll figure out exact details of his life as we go next season but it ultimately doesn't matter what the specifics of those are when it comes to our overall S2 story plotting because we know what we want the *jist* of it to be and that's that Mobius isn't missing a heck of a lot in his past life-- that the loneliness and need for adventure that he has that we know in the present is possibly also some spillover from who he was before-- and that whatever he's going to find in his memories are not going to ultimately impede furthering his relationship with Loki."
He can have a jetski empire or have been a private eye or was an accountant whose nexus event was trying to kill himself, who the hell knows-- it'll all be *interesting* when we see it but the second the writers decided that Mobius wasn't a man with a wife and 2.5 kids in '90s Texas... that's the moment that the path to Lokius just became quite a bit easier and I say that as someone who is fully aware that the two characters I am discussing are presently trapped in different timelines.
So yeah, just some writer's two cents but we'll see.
*Ben Stiller as Other!Mobius' husband in a jealous-off with our petty God of Mischief... no wait. WAIT. Ben Stiller as Other!Mobius' *Loki variant* husband... not sure how that works since this universe doesn't seem to have Lokis that we know of yet but let's deem it so and will it into existence...
#lokius#mcu loki#lokius nation#agent mobius#mobius#mobius m mobius#loki show#loki series#loki laufeyson
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Why should Sylkie and Lokius shippers even fight at all when there's Sylokius to ship instead?
I am not saying that Sylkie and Lokius shippers should fight.
I don't think anyone should ever fight.
But a lot of people are acting as if Sylkie is the worst thing on the planet, when they were pretty okay with Thor*i all these years. Sylkie is literally not problematic when you read about Loki in norse mythology. Most people just want to fetishsize gay men.
EDIT- Someone made a very good point about how Sylkie was thrown in the viewers’ face since the 3rd episode when they first interacted and she tried to enchant him by touching his neck. So maybe people should stop pretending that it was a surprise or it was sprung on them.
I know Marvel Queerbaits, and a lot. I know that sucks but there is nothing I can do about it. But hating on a director, writers who have actually done a commendable job with the character because a ship that they want to be canon but isn't, is stupid. It always has been.
Not going to lie, I like Sylokius. It sounds fun. And the few posts I have found about them were amazing.
Also, I like both Lokius and Sylkie, so either way I win. And if they don't go with either of them, because I believe Tom will probably not return for a season 2, I don't feel so strongly that it makes me mad.
The only MCU ship that has ever made me mad was Bruta**a. After Cap:TWS, it made perfect sense to go for Romanogers or no romantic pairing at all.
Anyway, this went really long. Sorry about that. You are my first Ask by the way. Thanks.
#loki#lokius#sylkie#sylokius#sylki#mobius m mobius#marvel#mcu#tom hiddleston#owen wilson#sophia di martino#anti thorki#i have no regrets#you people can pretend all you want that it is a deep#reasonable ship#it isn't#romanogers#anti brutasha
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Bobby’s Playdate Part 2
Part 1
The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?
Tom Hiddleston/OFC
Chapter 2 of4
Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut
@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren
I am so sorry I took so long to update this! First I was distracted by a super busy week, and then I decided to rework what I had in store for it. It took a while to redo, but I have decided to make it a 4 part story. Hope you enjoy, and that the wait was worth it!
The day had started out like every other since the lock down began. Leia had slept late, having no where to go. A cold, wet kiss on her nose from Lulu woke her up when the pup could no longer wait to be let out and grumbling she had taken her out for a quick walk up and down the block. After two cups of coffee and some melon, Leia had realized that after three months of enforced solitude, both she and her dog had gotten decidedly surly. It was time to get out, even if it was only to the local park.
Lulu’s excitement when she took out the little pink and white checked dress had been enough to put a smile on Leia’s face. Really, the small dog was a ridiculous creature, but she could be such a bundle of sunshine. After they were both outfitted – Lulu in her dress and Leia in a comfy outfit and mask, they made their way to the nearby park, enjoying a leisurely stroll around the newly green paths. She wished that Lulu was not too timid to play in the dog run, but after spending a year in the shelter the poor thing was terrified of other dogs.
That was why she was so surprised when Lulu’s tale began to wag excitedly. Normally she would have been cowering and whimpering in fear at the sound of another dog approaching, but for once her reaction was completely different. She jumped up from where she had been snuggling on Leia’s lap and perked up her ears, tongue lolling out happily. When the chocolate spaniel came trotting around the bend, she even jumped of Leia and strained at the leash to meet him.
Keeping a tight hold on Lulu’s leash, Leia let her eyes travel up the lead attached to the strange dog. It was quite a long trip, as it happened, past a pair of long legs in torn jogging pants, a faded shirt that would once have been bright blue, and a plain black mask until she got to a set of smiling blue eyes that made her heart stop.
“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I promise he is completely friendly.”
She had known who he was instantly, of course. No face mask could disguise those cheek bones, the copper curls that brushed his collar, or the baby blues that had sent a million fan girls swooning. If she had had any doubts, one word from that sinful voice, a verbal caress of polite friendliness, would have stamped it out. She had seen almost all of his movies, after all, and quite a number of his promotional appearances as well.
“It’s okay, so is she,” she replied struggling to keep her voice normal and grateful for the mask that hid her stunned initial gape. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”
And then Tom Hiddleston – The Tom Hiddleston! – had sat down on the bench next to her while she petted Bobby and struck up a casual conversation! She had kept her eyes on the pups at first, afraid that if she looked at him, he would see the excitement and intimidation in her eyes. He introduced himself, needlessly, of course, and she gave him her name in a kind of daze. She realized that he had only provided his first name and had the quick flash of insight that he might be enjoying the idea of anonymity. If that were the case, she would not want to spoil it for him by gushing. Uncertain of what to do, she let the obvious joke about her name lead her to mentioning Marvel characters. That way, she decided, he would have a segue to talking about his career should he want to. When he let it slide and quickly changed the subject, she decided that her assumption must have been correct.
Which was absolutely fine with her! She was sitting and talking to Tom Hiddleston! While she would, of course, love to pick his brain about Loki, or Shakespeare, or any of a dozen projects, she was more than happy to listen to him discuss his dog in that proud pappa voice. By the time she had told him the story behind Lulu’s dress excitement she was reasonably settled and could actually manage to look him in the eye without blushing.
She had met a few famous people in her time as a London tour guide, and many of them had been a colossal let down. Tom was not one of them. He was everything she had ever imagined or hoped he would be. Kind, funny, clever, a little prone to talk on about any subject he happened on, but in all a delightful conversation partner. She was disappointed but not surprised when he had to leave, but she didn’t want to be too greedy; it was already one of the most magical afternoons of his life. When he mentioned running into them again, she almost squealed with excitement, just barely managing to keep her face impassive.
Thus began a fairy tale of month for Leia and Lulu. After two days of rain, during which she was certain he would forget all about her, they had found the boys again at the same spot. Leia half wondered if she were simply dreaming, but if so, she had no desire to wake up. They met up with Tom and Bobby most days, walking for hours sometimes as they discussed London, their childhoods, school. She learned quickly that he changed the subject instinctively whenever anything came up that might lead to his career. She could respect that. It must be hard, she thought, being always in the public eye. For her own part, Leia tacitly decided to keep the subject of her book a secret. After all, a fantasy story based on Norse Mythology, with Loki playing a leading role, was bound to bring up the sort of conversation he obviously wished to avoid.
As time went on, she began to forget he was a movie star and just think of him as her friend, insane as that struck her when she stopped to look at it. Oh, she was still absurdly attracted to him, but it was no longer for his stunning character portrayals or teasing banter with interviewers. No, the teasing banter she was interested in now was much more personal for her. He was delightful company, unfailingly polite, quick with a wickedly funny comment or a profound musing on life. In short, Leia was well and truly smitten. Hopelessly, she thought with a sigh.
When he invited her to his home, she could barely believe it. A casual acquaintance in the park was one thing, a dinner chez Hiddleston was completely different. She knew it was in large part for the sake of the puppies, and that was fine. Lulu was as besotted with Bobby as Leia was with Tom, only in this case it was obviously mutual. Leia would just have to be careful to guard her heart. She was not a part of his real life, and she needed to remember that, even if they never discussed it.
***
Bobby started barking seconds before the buzzer rang, his tail wagging back and forth at a frantic pace. Tom, scarcely less excited, gave a quick glance in the mirror before slipping on his mask and opening the door.
Leia stood on his doorstep looking even more lovely than usual. Her simple leggings and long tee had been replaced by a pretty, floral sundress in shades of red and yellow and her hair, usually tied up or back, was long and curling about her shoulders. Tom swallowed and tried to keep his eyes from doing too obvious an up and down of her body. It was difficult, considering the shape of her legs and amount of them showing. Lulu’s yip drew his eyes down to her, and he saw that she was dressed in a purple polka dotted number for the evening, her hair sporting several sparkly clips to keep her braids from coming undone.
“Hi, welcome!” he greeted them, straining to keep Bobby from leaping out the door. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thanks,” she smiled with her eyes as he ushered her inside.
“You found the place alright?”
“Your directions were perfect,” she assured him, glancing around at his newly bare entryway. “It’s quite the posh street you live on! I don’t think I’ve ever been into one of these houses.”
“Oh, it’s just like any other home,” he said modestly, feeling stupid as he did. His house had an electronic gate (that he had left unlocked for her) and a private surveillance system. He knew it was not the usual home. “I can give you a tour later if you like.”
“I’d love that. Whatever you have cooking smells delicious!”
“Thanks. I’ll have to check on it in a bit. For now, though, why don’t we go out back? I have some drinks chilling.”
He gestured for her to proceed him and subtly steered her past the kitchen and living room and out the sliding glass doors into the back. The yard was pretty, a nice square plot with flowers growing along the fence on three sides and one large tree giving shade. A table with four chairs and a grill stood on a little stone area, and Tom had set it up with a selection of glasses for beer, wine, and mixed drinks. A pitcher of iced water stood next to a bottle of dry rose in an ice bucket, and another small bucket contained iced beers.
“Here you go, Bobby,” he unleashed the spaniel who instantly tore off around the yard, looking for his favorite toy. “Why don’t you two have a nice frolic.”
“Oh Lulu, this will be fun!” Leia cooed to her pup, also removing her dog’s leash.
As the little dog scampered off after Bobby, Tom took a deep breath and turned to her owner. Now was the moment he had been waiting for.
“I suppose since we are alone and outside and all… as long as we stay six feet apart… would you mind?” he gestured towards his mask.
“Not at all. Oh, and I got my negative test results back. I have a copy on my phone if you want to see them!” she offered.
“No need, I trust you,” he was quick to assure her. “I got mine as well.”
It was strange – until a few months ago he would have felt tremendously awkward wearing a mask around another person. Even when he had needed to wear one for a few scenes in Only Lovers Left Alive it had seemed tremendously cumbersome and rather silly. Now though, Tom realized that he could not remember the last time he had been around another person without one. There was something shockingly intimate in the act of taking it off in front of Leia, and he found himself feeling almost shy. Blushing a bit, he unhooked the straps from around his ears and took the fabric from in front of his mouth, setting it on one of the chairs.
His eyes fastened on her as she reached up to do the same, the red mask peeling away to reveal a small bow of a mouth, pink lips curved in a slight smile. Her chin was slightly pointed and had a cute little half dimple to one side. Smile lines were just barely visible and added to the appeal of her face. It was a very kissable mouth, he decided.
“Hi,” he said, rather fatuously, face breaking into a sheepish grin. “I’m Tom.”
“Hi Tom,” she smiled back, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m Leia.”
They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, until he cleared his throat and pointed to a chair.
“Please, have a seat,” he managed to say. “As you see, I have wine, beer, water, or I could make you a cocktail if you’d rather. Or lemonade if you prefer a soft drink…” he realized he was babbling and cut himself off.
“Wine would be nice,” she said, sitting down and crossing one long leg over the other, giving him a lovely glimpse of her thigh.
“Right, wine it is,” he said, uncorking the bottle and grabbing a glass. “I hope it’s alright. My sister loves this brand, she brought it when she was here last, and it is better than anything I would have known to get.”
“Not a wine guy?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.
“Oh, I like a good hearty red with a steak now and then, and I will definitely have some with dinner tonight – I hope you like Italian, by the way – but for casual drinking, I’m more of a beer or scotch fan myself.”
While he prattled on Tom opened up one of the beers and poured it into a pint glass. When the foam had gone down a bit, he raised the glass and tilted it towards her.
“To deepening new friendships,” he dared to say, eyes finding hers.
They clinked their glasses, and he took a long sip of the hoppy beverage, hoping he hadn’t over stepped.
“To embracing human interaction!” she added. “Selectively, of course.”
Well, she obviously didn’t recognize him. That was a relief. He had been half worried that she would shriek, or become tongue tied, or worse. It was remarkable to him how many women seemed to have extreme reactions to meeting him. He was so ordinary! Just an overgrown ginger kid from Wimbledon. It wasn’t like they were meet Daniel Day Lewis for god’s sake. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest twinge of disappointment. He worked hard at his job, after all, and was proud of the reputation he had developed and of the work he had done. It was strange, with how up on everything Leia always seemed, that she didn’t have any knowledge of Marvel at least, or The Night Manager. Still, some people didn’t watch a lot of movies and TV, or if they did it was more intellectual fare.
They both leaned back in their chairs and watched the dogs play chase back and forth. Tom found his eyes drifting back to her, staring at her mouth. He had never realized just how much a person’s mouth said about them. Leia’s smiled as a default, giving her a more youthful look than she had when it was covered. There was something fresh and approachable about her that he was drawn to.
The conversation was light and easy. Neither of them had been doing much of anything lately, so they resorted to telling older stories from their childhoods. Tom was amused to think of Leia playing with her friends, insisting that no, she wanted to be Han Solo despite what her thoughtless parents had named her. Tom, of course, had wanted to play all of the characters, and delighted her with his spot-on Darth Vadar and Grand Moff Tarkin impressions.
“You were a terror, weren’t you?” she laughed as he described bossing his sister about the correct way to make the light saber noises.
“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Emma and Sarah would probably say more than a bit. They had it coming though.”
“I’m sure they would agree with that, too,” she said sarcastically.
“It’s not my fault they couldn’t take direction,” he grinned. “I’m sure you would have made an excellent Han Solo. With the proper lessons.”
“Perhaps you can make me your student after dinner, if we have enough wine,” she suggested.
He knew she meant it innocently enough, but he felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the image her words planted in his mind. Leia in a schoolgirl outfit, bent over his desk flashing through his brain was enough to make him reach for his beer and gulp down more than was advisable. She seemed to realize after a moment, as she too reached for her glass and took a long swallow.
Lulu chose that moment to break away from where they had been digging around the tree and came running over to them, something grimy hanging from her mouth.
“What have you got there, peanut?” Leia sked, sounding a bit relieved.
“She seems to have unearthed one of Bobby’s treasures,” Tom smiled, glad of the distraction himself.
“Here, princess, you want me to throw it for you?”
Leia held out her hand and she happily dropped the toy into it. Tom looked at the toy and felt his jaw go slack and his eyes frantic. It was Loki. Of course it was. One of Bobby’s favorite toys, naturally, given to him during the lead up to one of the movies, the thick ropes of green and gold formed a long God of Mischief chew toy/tug of war combo, complete with horns. Tom licked his lips, glancing quickly at Leia, only to see that she was smiling down at her fluffy pup.
“Oh, Lulu, Look! It’s just like yours, only a bit more loved,” she said with a laugh. “Good girl, saving the handsome prince from a shallow grave. Loki never stays dead for long!”
With another laugh she took the toy and threw it across the yard, Lulu and Bobby both quickly scampering off after it. Tom gaped at her, uncertain what to say.
“You must have a lot of those,” she commented off handedly.
“You… you know?” he stammered.
“Know what?”
“Who I am?” it sounded stupid and conceited to his own ears.
“Well, I hope so since I’m in your home.”
“No, I mean you know what I do for a living,” he ground out, feeling like an utter ass.
“Of course,” she told him, quirking her lips.
“Since when?” he choked out.
“Since the first day. You’re not exactly easy to mistake, Tom.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I figured it must get old, people falling all over themselves around you, treating you like you’re not even human.”
“Yeah. Yeah it does.”
“So I took my cue from you.”
“I see,” he was completely flummoxed. “And you have a Loki toy? For Lulu, I mean?”
“Of course, he’s our favorite! Poor, misunderstood boy. You know, I am glad I have the opportunity to tell you now how good you are. And not just as Loki. You were breath taking in Betrayal.”
“You saw Betrayal?”
“Twice. Stunning work.”
He knew his mouth was opening and closing stupidly, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She had known, all this time. She had been humoring him by not talking about it. He was not entirely sure how to feel about that.
“Tom is everything alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.
“Was that why you talked to me?” he heard himself asking. “Why you agreed to come over? Because I am famous?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I came over because you asked, and because I like you. Yes, I was a bit star struck at first, but I got past it. Are you angry? I just assumed you realized.”
“No. No, I didn’t. I… I should go check on dinner.”
“Tom, really, are you okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Be right back.”
Turning tail, he fled into the house, mind in complete turmoil at the new turn of events.
#Tom Hiddleston#Bobby Hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#Fanfic#rpf fanfic#rpf#tom hiddleston rpf#Tom Hiddleston/OFC#Fluff#Lock Down#slight angst#romance#dating in quarantine#future smut#flirting#puppy love#Bobby gets a girlfriend too!#adorable#Bobby's Playdate
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Severus Snape and Godric's Old Stuff
How Severus got the Sword to Harry, from his point of view, as I imagine it:
It felt like it was many moons ago that Severus had put the Sorting Hat on and pleaded with it to give him the Sword of Gryffindor.
‘Well, this is a surprise,’ it told him. ‘I don’t normally find myself on the heads of full-grown wizards.’
If Severus had ever felt ridiculous, it was at that moment, especially because he felt an actual grudge against the ragged old hat rear its head. The hat, apparently, sensed it, as it shifted atop his head, but chose not to address this. ‘How may I help you, Severus?’
‘I require the Sword of Gryffindor.’
‘If I am not mistaken, and I hardly ever am, I put you in Slytherin. Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword out of me.’
‘Of course good old Godric would make such a self-serving hat. For your information, I intend to deliver the Sword to a Gryffindor. I have no use for the blasted thing. If I could deliver you to him, I would have, but it will give away too much.’
‘I sense that you are upset with me, Severus,’ the hat replied. ‘Care to tell me why?’
Perhaps it was the fact that he was wearing a hat that normally only graced the heads of 11 year-olds, but he felt very much like a petulant child.
‘Because you put her in Gryffindor! You had to put her in the same stupid house as Potter and Black and the whole lot of them, and she….’ he did not finish his sentence in his mind. If the hat wanted to know, the hat was welcome to ask.
‘I stand by it. She was a Gryffindor if there ever was one, Severus, and you know it. Courageous, chivalrous, outspoken. She would not have done so well in another house’
‘I guess that makes me a coward, then,’ Severus thought, knowing full well he was being petty in the extreme, ‘not that I would call being murdered at 21 doing well, exactly.’
‘A coward, you are not. But you were and remain a quintessential Slytherin. Very easy to sort, you were. And it seems to me that you did very well for yourself, indeed - are you not Headmaster? Are you not the Dark Lord’s second in command?’
‘I never wanted any of this and you know it.’
‘You can’t lie to the Sorting Hat, Severus. All I say is what I see in your head.’
He sulked under the Hat. It was true - there was a time he would have given anything and everything to be the Dark Lord’s second in command; the only difference now was that he already had.
‘It was not so long ago that I sorted her son.’
Severus sulked some more.
‘I know you despise him; I know you see only his father in him.’
‘Wonderful, another sermon about the Amazing Harry Potter. Spare me. I have Dumbledore’s portrait for that.’
‘I wish I could show you he has a lot of his mother in him. He too is courageous, chivalrous, and outspoken. But you should know, I almost sorted him into your house.’
Severus almost choked. ‘Excuse me?’
‘He begged me not to. I later realized it was Tom Riddle’s fragmented soul I was responding to - yes, I heard Dumbledore tell you about it - but it is not necessarily the only reason. He has been cunning. He has been resourceful.’
‘Cunningly nearly getting himself killed every other week.’
‘Even so, I take it that it is him to whom you will be delivering the Sword.’
‘Precisely.’
‘I recognize that if I do not help you get it to him, I might have no one left to Sort next year. I can do it, for the benefit of Hogwarts. But the enchantment requires that you demonstrate extreme valour.’
Severus raised his Sword-less hands. ‘So I am a coward, then. And yet you Sorted Pettigrew into Gryffindor. How about the fact that I lie to the Dark Lord constantly, at the risk torture and death? How about the flagrant betrayal of him, before he fell? How about the fact that I have not killed myself yet?’
‘That will do, Severus.’ And the Sword fell into his hand.
As he extracted it from behind Dumbledore’s portrait, much later, Severus remembered his excruciating conversation with the Sorting Hat - he was glad it didn’t turn out to be a complete waste of time to get the Hat to cough it up to him.
‘Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood -’
‘Do not use that word!’ Severus admonished the portrait.
‘- the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!’
Dumbledore saw fit to remind him of the conditions under which the Sword must be taken - as if he could forget. That he did tell Severus, but tell him what in Godric’s name Harry needed the Sword for - Heaven forbid. The portrait also found it important to warn that must not let himself be seen “after George Weasley’s mishap”. It was good, Severus reckoned, that he already knew he must not be seen. George Weasley’s ear? I killed you and you think it is George Weasley’s ear they will be concerned about? But then again, Severus thought, what could he expect of a wizard who got himself cursed in so ridiculous a manner in the first place? “Don’t worry,” he said coolly. “I have a plan.”
The school was positively deserted - almost nobody stayed for Christmas this year. Only those who had absolutely no place else to call home remained, and thankfully, Rubeus Hagrid was one of them. Severus made his way to Hagrid’s hut. He did not bother with pleasantries.
“I require a thestral, Rubeus.”
“I will never help yeh, not fer me own life,” the Groundskeeper spat at him.
“Your life? Your life, Hagrid? You are not important enough to kill. Fetch me a thestral, or else, Hagrid.”
“Or else what, ye cunning, murdering…”
It was not exactly a question, but Headmaster Snape dignified it with an answer nevertheless. “Or else I will fire you and hire your old friend and Death Eater Macnair to teach Care of Magical Creatures. In a manner of speaking.”
Hagrid had no choice but to obey, muttering “‘course, he can see the thestrals, the student torturing, death eating traitor” to himself all the while. Hagrid seemed disgusted with himself, but for a change, Severus was not. This was the best Christmas break he has had in a long time.
Of course he could see the thestrals - he was no stranger to grief. He mounted one of the skeletal, winged horses and the useful creature brought him to the Forest of Dean. He dismounted the thestral and immediately ordered it to fly back to Hogwarts, and Hagrid.
Severus delighted in the irony of having to create a situation for Potter to demonstrate his courage, and he wondered if Granger would be clever enough to understand where the Sword must have come from.
He found a pond that had already frozen over, cracked the thick layer of ice to throw the Sword in the water, and as he watched the Sword submerge and sway from side to side as it sunk, he cast a quick freezing charm.
The rest of the operation depended on Harry - and that thought made Severus shudder more than the shivering cold did.
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Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/
Hello CorvusDraconis and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you so much for sitting down with us to chat.
You’re a well known and beloved figure in the SS/HG community for your many stories - including a personal favourite of mine, A chance for happiness.
Okay, let’s jump right in.
What's the story behind your pen name?
I have always had a fascination for the shiny things and the Northwest Coast depictions of Raven the Trickster/Creator, and, I tend to hoard (and get super protective) of my art supplies. Corvids have always been a positive sign in my life. They tend to show up when I’m feeling down and engage in funny antics in the yard. As for dragons, I’ve always had a love for them and think the Western depiction of them as dangerous beasts with no mind but for hoarding treasure and killing people only to be slain by a knight quite despicable.
Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?
Severus, actually. I see a lot of my life in his. Hardships, challenges, bullying— trying to be something better and later wondering about unwise decisions. I have a very similar dislike for dunderheads, but I do not share his inclination to denude rosebushes of their petals.
Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general)
I have always preferred fantasy and sci-fi.
Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?
I am not sure if you would call it a classic novel, but grew up on all things Tolkien (and even puzzled through the Silmarillion at the grand age of seven), and have a special place in my heart for Watership Down. While I’ve read pieces like War and Peace, Iliad, Ulysses, Pride and Prejudice, Grapes of Wrath, Moby Dick, Great Gatsby, Little Women, Catcher in the Rye, Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn, Scarlet Letter, Don Quixote, To Kill a Mockingbird, Animal Farm, Jane Eyre, Lord of the Flies, Tale of Two Cities, Heart of Darkness, Robinson Crusoe, Alice in Wonderland, Great Expectations, Odyssey, Frankenstein, Dracula, Crime and Punishment, Heart of Darkness, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Anne of Green Gables, Les Misérables, Peter Pan, Gulliver’s Travels, all things Jack London, 20000 Leagues, etc.— they never captured me as aptly as Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern or Mercedes Lackley’s the Last Herald Mage. Though, if I were to pick classic stories I read more than once (litmus test for things I like) it would be things such as The Secret Garden, Call of the Wild, Wild Fang, The Hobbit, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and The Last Unicorn.
At what age did you start writing?
The moment I could pick up pencil and paper, I was writing. I had notepads full of stories I wrote as a kid. Alas, my dad found them one day when I was off to college, made fun of them, and I came home and burned every single one in mortification.
How did you get into writing fanfiction?
The moment TV shows did “stupid things” to their characters. I used to write things about Beauty and the Beast (the old CBS show) when they killed off the main character, Knight Rider, Robocop, Transformers— there are probably far more that I just don’t remember now. I was writing it long before there was a fanfiction dot net or a term to even call it.
What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?
I am a shameless romantic for the beauty within and sometimes the quite literal love for a monster (not just some person who acts like a monster and changes into a better person.) The misunderstood monster is perhaps my most favourite theme, and it shows up in my stories often if not always.
What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?
I ship SessKag from Inuyasha, Lucard/Sophie from Dracula: The Series, and Loki/Hermione when I’m feeling crossover-y.
If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?
Other than my favourite fanon that Severus lives/survives/finds a better life free of two masters and his guilt, I would say I would want Harry to wise the heck up and realise his father was a swine, his godfather was an almost successful murderer that used his own best mate to try and kill off another student, and his mother wasn’t all that hot either. I would want him to find value in himself without having to make stuff up about his “perfect” parents. Then again, I would want Vernon/Petunia to be arrested for child abuse and put in gaol, but— then the story would have been very different XD
Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?
Sometimes quiet, sometimes music. But usually, I am best mates with Spotify.
What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?
In the HP universe: I honestly don’t read many of them because I’m always writing my own stuff XD, but when I really feel like I need a good Ron bashing SSHG HEA, I read just about anything by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse. However, that being said, I often return to “The Sun is Often Out” by Hannah-1888 for just the right amount of angst and HEA to make me happy.
In the Inuyasha universe: A Trick of Fate by PristinelyUngifted
In the Marvel universe: Mutual Respect Sends His Regrets by moor
In the Star Trek universe: Gratified By Your Company by starfleetdream
Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?
I go by the seat of my feathered rump, to be honest. Inspiration is a fickle, unpredictable beast, and I usually don’t know what is going to happen until it does.
What is your writing genre of choice?
Fantasy
Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?
Chance of Happiness because it was my very first publication. It may not have been my best, but it was my first, and it very well could have been my last yet somehow wasn’t.
Looks Can Be Deceiving and One Step Forward, Two Decades Back are two epic tales that seemed to demand being written. The fact I finished them was something I think deserves a little pride.
Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?
Looks started off with me attempted to write Dramione just once. It failed. Draco demanded to be her brother of the heart, Viktor came in and said “nope she’s mine,” and no one was more surprised at the outcome of that story than me. The characters did what THEY wanted.
I learned that trying to plan a story from start to finish is useless when the characters decide what they want. The story demanded more, and I was just a conduit that typed it down. For me, at least, attempting to outline and plan is utterly useless
How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?
I think every story I write is personal in some way. The inspiration comes from somewhere inside, and I often have no idea what it is until I go back and read it later. I think the story wrote itself in a lot of ways, which made it easier in a way, but there are a lot of things I can’t say were from personal experience because as a high fantasy of talking gryphons and such I can only imagine it. There is no basis in real life on how any of that would go down. There is a freedom in that but also many challenges in making it real enough to identify with despite how alien and fantastic the idea is.
What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?
Dragonriders of Pern introduced sentient dragons and the idea that despite a vast difference in species there could be teamwork and love between the two as they teamed up against a greater threat.
The herald-mage books by Mercedes Lackley were also important staples in my childhood because it impressed the values of responsibility despite having powers others did not, and that people were fallible despite greatness and potential.
Gandalara Cycle by Randall Garrett and Vicki Ann Heydron: I cannot tell you how often I read this story. I had dog ears on these novels because there was so much I loved about them. It was a search for humanity when displaced in a seemingly alien world, societal clashes, and the great sha’um (the giant rideable cats) that were the main characters’ partners for life.
The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C Wrede: A princess rebels against her arranged marriage by running away to be a dragon princess.
All of these books had creatures in it that chose to partner with a human and be with them for life, not as lovers that you find in the more modern supernatural romance blender out there, but the ultimate friend for life— the family you choose.
Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?
Oh heck no. Hah. They have their secrets, and I have mine. Personally, I think mine are more healthy than theirs.
How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?
Very.
I write for myself. Sometimes I’ll write a story for one of my betas or a sshg friend, but for the most part, I write for my own entertainment because nothing like what I write is out there. There is a lot of SSHG out there, but mine is almost always a creature feature story. I blame X-Files growing up. It tickles me that others enjoy my stories, but in the end I write to get things down and out of my head. They just so happen to entertain others as they do me.
How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?
I will often engage in A/N talk at the end of chapters, but I really don’t engage in the fandom. I loathe social media. That being said, I read every review, and while I don’t reply to everything because FF dot net is a horrible platform for messaging anymore (or ever was really)-- I appreciate every single one. Sometimes it helps to know people are enjoying the story for the story’s sake.
What is the best advice you've received about writing?
Get a beta, even if you are pretty good at writing. Get one because a second pair of eyes will catch things you don’t. Read your own stuff out loud. If you trip over it, your audience will too. If you stumble, so will they.
Get a beta who isn’t afraid to tell you that your shite stinks in places and you make no sense. You may want a cheerleader, but what you need is a beta. If you are super lucky, you can have both at once.
What do you do when you hit writer's block?
I play computer games and sew things. I’ve sewn a lot of things lately. Scrub caps and masks for work—
There has been a lot of writer’s block lately due to the times, and I will not write when I’m uninspired. I will not force inspiration. That’s not fair to me or those unfortunate enough to share in the reading. I want to be able to go back on a story I wrote and enjoy it and not curse at myself. XD
Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?
Sometimes certain catch phrases and things from real life friends have trickled in as a sort of Easter egg (unbeknownst to them since I don’t tell them I write fanfic). Sometimes random news stories or whatnot find their way in. Lessons of the day. Random events. Things that are too odd not to stick in my brain somehow. I can’t say I always do it on purpose, though.
Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?
No, I have a goal this year to finish off the unfinished stories. This is made harder because Dragon and the Rose keeps adding more and more bunnies into the idea bin, and my brain wants to run with them, but I’m like NO DANGIT, I HAVE STUFF TO FINISH STILL! It’s a hard thing trying to finish what you start when so much interesting stuff pops up and waves at you like “heeeeeyyyyy I’m cool too!”
Any words of encouragement to other writers?
Keep writing but remember you can always be better. You can always improve. Writing isn’t a popularity contest. It isn’t about how many reviews you get or how many fans you may or may not have. Write because you want to write. Write what you like not what other people like. Write for you because in the end, you are the one who goes back to read it and say “I wrote this story, and I still love it” instead of forcing yourself to write something just because the topic is “popular” and gets a lot of visitors. Write something you’ll be proud to go back and read and enjoy. You’ll find when you write something genuinely, readers will come. And if only one person leaves you a paragraph review on how much your story meant to them out of someone else’s hundreds of “great!” (with nothing else)-- think of what you value more.
If my story helped someone through a dark time.
Just one person—
Then it was a good effort.
Maybe that person didn’t have the bravery to leave a message. Maybe they are ashamed. Maybe they send you a PM instead of a review.
That is, to me, the ultimate reason why I realised that despite writing stories for myself that there are people out there that needed to hear my story at just the right time in their life. If my story can bring a little joy to someone else, then it doesn’t matter how many reviews I have. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have thousands of reviews like “that other author.” What matters is that I told my story; someone out there read it and it spoke to them.
I love hearing from people and what they liked about my stories, but I also am glad that there are some people out there who secretly like my stories but do not feel safe enough to review.
So, I would say to the aspiring author: write for yourself but share it. You never know whose day you will make with your story. They may never tell you. They may tell you years later (happened to me!). There is a good chance that someone out there needs your story as much as you need to write it. That being said, find yourself a beta to share your journey with you. You may find a few friend in the process.
Thanks so much for giving us your time.
You are quite welcome.
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lesson number one (1.6k)
jordan nocks the arrow, and pulls back the bowstring. he squints, aims, fires.
the dulled practice arrow goes skittering harmlessly across the deck of the ship, several feet from the target propped against the mast. his father raises an eyebrow at him from the helm, and his mother smiles encouragingly. he huffs in frustration anyway.
“you fixed your grip, but your stance was still off,” spark comments, watching from the side. it’s the opposite of what he had said moments ago, criticizing his hold on the bow but praising his form. for the man who is meant to be teaching him to shoot, he’s given more contradictory advice than he has actual instructions. “try to fix both, now.”
jordan glares at the arrow. it hadn’t even stuck into the deck, just fallen uselessly. “can’t i just worry about one thing at a time?”
spark laughs. “i wish that was how it worked, but they’re connected. you won’t make the shot until you fix them both. you need to have a solid enough stance that you won’t fall over when you fire, and a relaxed enough grip that you don’t shake the bow when you aim.”
as if that was remotely possible. “how am i meant to do two completely different things at the same time? that doesn’t make any sense! i can’t do that.”
"you can,“ spark insists. "you just haven’t figured out how. archery isn’t the easiest thing in the world, jordan, and you aren’t exactly learning in the easiest way possible.”
he narrows his eyes. “what do you mean?”
the ship crests a particularly large wave just as he says it. spark grins; jordan sighs at his own stupidity. “you’ll have a fantastic sense of balance when you’re older,” his teacher informs him, far too amused. “try again, kid.”
jordan scowls, but picks up the arrow, stands on the marked spot, draws and aims and fires. and misses. again.
"you fixed your stance,“ spark says, for what seems like the hundredth time. "but you still-”
"-held the bow too tightly,“ jordan guesses, because he’s heard one of two variations on this speech on repeat for the past hour. spark nods. "i can’t do either of those things right, i know.”
spark sighs, and stands up from the crates he’s been sitting on, setting aside his own bow. it’s a massive, powerful weapon, shimmering with enchantments and carved with patterns and runes. his wife had made it for him, he had said; his wife, who he travels the world for in hopes of reuniting with. “you don’t need to focus so much on doing one or the other, you need to focus on striking a balance between both at the same time. find a middle ground, and work from there. you need to fix each of them at once, i’m afraid.”
"because one alone is not enough,“ jordan mutters, more than a bit irritated.
spark nods seriously, as bitter as the comment may have been. "you need both together. they rely on each other in order to actually succeed. could a captain steer a ship without a navigator? could a navigator travel anywhere without a captain to steer the ship?”
jordan glances up at the helm and sails again, at the chests of charts and maps that his mother has spent years transcribing into something orderly enough for his father to read when necessary, at the interconnected tangle of rigging and steering that his father has made into an intuitive, chaotic mess that his mother can take over if need be. they’ve managed to find a way to work together when they seem like a contradiction, fallen in love when people claimed that a marriage of a mianitee and dianitee could never last. the metaphor is painfully clear, almost embarrassingly so, but he can’t argue with its point.
he needs to find a way to work with both corrections even when they seem like a contradiction. to use spark’s favorite word, he needs to balance them.
jordan nocks the arrow, and pulls back the bowstring. he tries to stand firm and move smoothly. he squints, aims, fires.
and misses.
but this time, the arrow is notably closer to where it ought to be.
"better,“ spark says. "that was better. try again.”
he does. he tries another dozen times, each one of them landing just outside of the target. the first mate makes a comment about how chaotic his aim is; the skipper jokes about how orderly he is to keep making tiny adjustments until he gets it right. spark rolls his eyes, and internally, jordan does the same. he’s only nine, after all- he has almost a full year before he chooses a god, and even if it is weird that he hasn’t made up his mind, the teasing for it got old about a year ago.
but that really isn’t the point right now.
it takes a while, and several dozen more shots, but he eventually hits the target. his arrow is lodged firmly in the straw, certainly not in the center but certainly not on the edge. his parents both smile down at him, and whoever’s currently in the rigging whoops, and spark ruffles his hair.
"good work, kiddo,“ spark says, and holds out another arrow. "can you do it again?”
jordan blinks. “but i just did it!”
"sure,“ spark agrees. "and a good archer practices until he gets it right. but a champion practices until he never gets it wrong.”
jordan blinks. spark is nothing like stories he’s heard of dianite’s champion, wild and laughing with their burning skin, nothing like the tales of mianite’s champion with her silver armor and shining spear. but something about his voice, something about the way he says that word specifically- “champion?”
spark smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “i won my fair share of archery competitions as a boy,” he says, and clears his throat. “but i really doubt that you want to hear about a fishing village’s summertime traditions.”
he doesn’t, not really, but that’s obviously not what the man is actually talking about. it’s equally as obvious that spark really, truly does not want to continue this line of conversation. and- well, jordan is curious, but he also kind of wants to see if he can do it again.
the answer is no, not on the first try, nor on the second. the third try, he hits the target again, and again on the fourth and fifth. he gets cheers and thumbs up from the crew, and a look from spark that’s both a proud smile and a challenging glint in his eyes. “good. think you can hit the center?”
he can’t, actually, not on that first night of practice. but he gets closer, and by the time that they reach port and spark walks down the ramp a final time, he is almost there.
jordan practices until he gets it right, and then he practices until he almost never gets it wrong.
twelve years after he learns to shoot a bow, he washes up on a distant shore. he figures out quite a lot of things. he figures out exactly what the word balance truly means. he gets a little better at archery; he coaches a friend.
his friend puts an arrow through his own god’s heart.
fifteen years after he learns to shoot a bow, he lands in a distant realm. he figures out a little more. he figures out exactly who taught him to shoot. he gets an incredible bow; it’s made by the wife of the man who taught him, of course.
he puts an arrow through the heart of the father of the gods.
twenty years after he learns to shoot a bow, he wakes up on a distant island. he misses a few important details, but he figures out what he needs to, just like he always does. he leaps for what may be the third time, or may be the thousandth.
he puts an arrow through the front of the darkness’s chest, and before they can retaliate or recover, a rapier runs through their back. an arrow of light and a blade of balance are just the combination needed, having left wounds on their own but dealing the final blow when used at once.
jordan stands in the ash and dust, and wipes some of the blood and sweat from his face, and makes eye contact with the man standing across from him. “because one alone is not enough.”
spark nods, smiling knowingly. he never did make it back to ruxomar, of course, but it seems that this realm is close enough for him to stay. it’s certainly where martha and andor are, standing wearily at his side, bruised from the fight but still upright and breathing. “you need both together.”
there’s a storm brewing on the horizon, because there always is. there’s still shades and shadows circling their group, dangerous even after their liege’s death. jordan glares at the dead titan, because they seem like a reasonable target to blame. “can’t i just worry about one thing at a time?”
spark throws back his head and laughs. tom, still guarding his back, scoffs at the very thought. one of the monsters lunges forward.
jordan nocks another arrow, and pulls back the bowstring. he squints, aims, fires.
#my. my fic.#mianite#i sure did write this in a couple hours and it sure does show#in which spark travels several realms in an attempt to find his way home and timelines are not always the same
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Little white lie
Fake Dating AU
Tom Holland x Reader
Warnings: lots of swearing and idk bullying, people being assholes, the usual
Summary: (Y/n) tells a little white lie, accepts taking her non-existing boyfriend, Tom, to her class reunion.
Word count: 3.2k+
@starksparker Birthday challenge. A bit late since its been a crazy week but still here none the less. Thank you for the opportunity and y’all should read her work, its a soo good. Seriously, everything she writes is a masterpiece.
A/n: So this is a story all about how my life got twisted upside BECAUSE DORIAN DECIDED NO TO GO TO FLORIDA BUT STILL CAUSED DAMAGE, SPECIALLY AT MY HOUSE CAUSE OF STORM SURGE. I just got my laptop back after my sister took it to Alabama without my permission. She’s a fucking asshole, but i love love her.
“Thomas Holland, I royally fucked up!” (Y/n) screamed as she entered the small apartment they shared. She threw herself onto the couch screaming into one of the pillows. A door slams open and she looks up to see a wet-headed, slightly dressed, Tom. God, was he gorgeous.
“What you do this time, darling?” He asked entering their shared living room/kitchen. She sheepishly smiled and threw herself onto the pillow again.
“I might’ve told my classmates that we’re dating…?” She mumbled on the pillow. Tom sat on the pouch, and looked at the quizzically.
“(Y/n), I can’t understand what you’re saying, speak up.” She looked up and sighed. This was going to be epically stupid and hilariously fucked up. They were roommates, nothing more and nothing less. Sure, they had seen each other naked once-to her defense it was on set and the script called for it but she still had eyes and he was hot- and it had been awkward after but this was deliberate, she had told them a fucking lie to get out of being stupidly bullied.
“Remember how the all girls class of 2013 was today?” He nodded. “Well,… I might’ve told everyone there that were dating just because I didn’t want Amber and her stupid friends to judge me.” She rushed out.
“You did what?” He shouted in surprise. He didn’t mind fake dating (Y/n) at all. Hell, he was completely fine with dating her but tell her leeches of classmates was another level.
“I’m sorry Tommy, I really am. It just happened so fast… They ambushed me about us and I didn’t know what to say…” She looked down ashamed to what was going on. She truly was ambushed the moment she stepped into the restaurant for brunch. Amber, Danielle and Janet and some other girls started spewing questions about her life, how it was being in Hollywood, some of her future projects and then Tom came into the topic. They started asking if they were dating, if she could introduce them, or if they even knew each other.
“you should’ve, I don’t know, told them the truth? That were mates and housemates.” He got up, went to the kitchen and grabbed himself a Stela Artois.
“It’s not that simple, they started screaming out all this questions and when it got to you, Janet started asking if we were dating. I swear to god, I was going to say no-” She followed Tom to the kitchen, grabbing a beer for herself.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Cause then Amber said, and I fucking quote her words, I’m not good enough for the Tom Holland” her arms where everywhere, nose big and cheeks enflamed.
“What the hell?” He raised an eyebrow, hating the Amber girl.
“I fucking know, right? She then proceeded to say the Tom Holland would prefer a model and not me, that I might be inventing even meeting you. God, I hate that bitch!” She plopped herself on the counter.
“What a fucking asshole, but what does that mean to me… us?” He asked, still confused.
“Ok, so when she said that I told them we’ve been dating since we finished filming Perpetual love…” She bit her lip and eyed Tom. He was taking it all too well, and she was happy about that but… she still had to ask him.
“Ok so ‘bout 8 months, yeah?” She nodded at him, taking a quick chug.
“Oh, and that we’re gonna go to the class reunion on Friday.” She sweetly smiled at him.
“What?!” He rolled his eyes at there and took a big sip of the bitter taste.
“I`m sorry, they didn’t believe me when I said we were dating, so amber said that we should go as a couple and I just okey’d it.” Her big (E/C) eyes looked straight at Toms brown doe eyes. She really was desperate. “Look, I’ll even do your laundry for the month, clean the house by myself, anything Thomas!”
“Ok, Ok, I’ll help you, but you’ll do my laundry for a month.” He smiled back at her. She jumped into Toms arms, thanking him repeatedly.
“I do have one condition…” He said letting go of her. She untangles herself and puts her feet on the ground.
“What?” His face turned serious, eyes semi-dark. Her heart bet was erratical, making her scared. She had never seen Tom this serious and she never intended too but she also did something stupid.
“You can’t fall in love with me.” Her face ran cold, her heart stopped for a moment as she tried to fake a laugh out. She had been in love with him since they stopped filming or, maybe, before that.
“Oh my god Thomas, you scared me.” He laughed at her as he engulfed her into a warm hug. “By the way… we aren’t in A walk to remember you silly fuck.” His laughter became louder as he continued to hug her. She smelled his chest, a sweet smell of his vanilla scrub. Was this weird? Maybe, Did she care? No. She let go of him and looked up at his face. His smile was big and goofy, just like she liked it.
“Thanks Tommy, I owe you one.” She threw the bottle away and grabbed her phone from the couch.
“Whens this huge event? I need detail darling!” He shouted at her, as she entered the hallway towards her room.
“Its this Friday Tommy” She shouted back. “Its formal, I’ll text you the rest, cause right now mamas need sleep!” He laughed back at her and smiled longingly. He truly was enchanted by her, how could anyone not be?
“G’night Tommy, love you!” She said as she closed her door.
“I love you too.” He mumbled to himself, but with a completely different meaning.
The week passed by without much event from both of them. (Y/n) would come and go, as her job demanded and so would Tom. Both of them were in the midst of promoting their new movie, which would be released soon. But the lingering stares and awkward thoughts consumed both of them, making it slightly more awkward to talk to each other, specially now with the pending fake dating situation.
Friday came without a warning and at 6:30 pm,(Y/n) received her first call from Amber, making sure she was going to the high school reunion party and that Tom was accompanying her.
“You know (Y/n) if it’s a lie, you can tell me and I won’t tell a soul, we’ll just say Tom got sick her something.” Her voice came 8 octave higher than normal, which meant she was lying.
“Amber, for the love of god, Tom is coming with me. We cleared our schedule and we’re free to go. Don’t worry ‘bout us, worry about your date.” Amber gasped and quickly hanged up, grumbling about her dog needing to go to the park. She didn’t mind, in fact she got out of her sweats and into the dress she bought, after doing her makeup and going to the salon. She had spent hours getting ready, as if she was going to a premier. (Y/n) knew she had to uphold her name, Toms name and make them see she was good enough. She looked at the clock and finished up her last touches, putting on her heels she left her room.
“Thomas, you ready?” She screamed, as she walked to the small closet where they hanged their coats and bags. She grabbed her small purse, putting her keys, wallet and lipstick, all the essentials she needed for the night.
“Just finished doing my hear love, grab my coat and we can go.” They both turn around and look at each other. (Y/n)’s eyes go wide as she checks Tom out without shame. His Burgundy checkered pants and mustard colored shirt made him look fucking good. He looked rich, expensive without even caring. God, please help me, she thought to herself.
Tom, on the other hand, felt bothered and hot. He couldn’t stop looking at her. Her tight red floral dress, framed her curves in an unimaginable form. Her heels made her legs look sexy, she just looked sexy and beautiful. He was sure that he had been staring a for more than it was allowed. He was completely and utterly fucked.
Thomas cleared his throat and spilled at her. She responded the same way, words not coming out of either of them. They turned off all the light and left the apartment without saying a single word. They both could feel the sexual tension, even the uber, as they sat next to each other-but as far away as possible-could feel that something was happening between them. They got out of the car, (Y/n) adjusting her dress as the both stepped a bit closer to the place she called school for part of her life.
“We should get our story straight, some details they might want to know or ask…” Tom broke the lingering silence they had.
“Yeah, like we’ve been together for 8 months, that ok?” He nodded and intertwined their fingers, she slightly jumped and looked at him.
“We should do a bit of PDA, holding hand, cheek kissing, hugging, all that.”He said pointing at their hands. She nodded and smiled, like the warmth of his hand on hers.
“Also, lets just keep the story as real as possible. Truly tell them how we met, or how we ended up living together, it’ll be easier for both of us.” (Y/n) said smiling at him. He nodded and took a step forward.
“Ready, darling?” She bit her lip and nodded, taking his hand and, slightly, dragging him towards the entrance. They passed a few classrooms, she showed him which one she had studied music at, or where something happened. She then dragged him to where her locker was and how it still had the small star he painted.
“… and then Mr.Wilder started crying, I wasn’t even acting good y’know? I was a terrible performer, no one expected me to become this big star…”She laughed with Tom, as they entered the gym class, where the party was located. “It was hilarious, I think my mom still has the video of me tripping on sta-”
“Still blows my mind how you became an actor.” A voice said behind them. Tom turns around and looks at an orange-tanned girl with a fake smile.
“Amber, hey” (Y/n) greased her with he same fake smile. “This is Tom, my boyfriend.” Amber licked her lips and flirtatiously tried to kiss his cheek. (Y/n) took a step back, forcefully, and sighed.
“I’m Amber McDonaghew.” He slightly pushed her away, making her annoyed.
“Nice to meet you, Tom Holland.” He extended his hand and she rolled her eyes, accepting the greeting. Tom grabbed (Y/n) by the waist and pulled her towards him, making her smile. Janet, a brunette girl, came walking towards where they were.
“(Y/n), you came!” She squealed and hugged her, eyeing Tom. “And you must be Tom Holland, himself.” She smiled, showing all white teeth.
“It a pleasure to meet you.” He smiled, still holding (Y/n).
“My sister loves your movies, after dinner can I get your autograph, she would freak out. Oh and your too (Y/n), she lov-.”Tom nodded, laughing at her.
“Get a hold of yourself Janet, he’s just a normal person.” Amber rolled her eyes, trying to get Toms attention.
“Don’t worry Janet, we WOULD be HONORED to take a photo or make a video for your sister.” (Y/n) smiled at her, making Amber angrier.
“WE should all go sit down, come (Y/n) they put you at our table.” Amber said rolling her eyes. Tom looked down at her. (Y/n) was frowning, not expecting that to be true but Amber was the coordinator, she could’ve done anything. With a deep sigh and a reassurance squeeze from Tom, they both walked to the table where (Y/n)’s worst memories were held
“Guys, remember (Y/n)?” Amber asked to the table, bringing all the attention to them. They sat down, (Y/n) next to Tom and Amber beside him. They all nodded and eyed her suspiciously. “Well, she’s now dating the Tom Holland, spider-man himself.” She squealed as if she was the one dating him.
“Damn (Y/n), didn’t know you had it in you.” Nick shouted, making her laugh.
“(Y/n), congrats, How’d you meet?” Danielle asked, looking at Amber. You slightly heard her telling whispering to Amber “Thought you said she was lying?” “Wait and see Dani, ask her something.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes and smiled, naturally leaning into Tom, like she always did.
“Actually, it's not that great of a story… I just met him on set of this indie film we were making.” She shrugged.
“You can be a bit more specific than that love, cause I still remember the first time I saw you.” He said, looking at (Y/n).
“What? How?” She looked at him confused. “That was ages ago…”
“Oh, please tell us…” Miri, one of Amber posies said.
“We were supposed to meet before filming started, but the idiot that I am mixed the dates and had to cancel on our coffee outing.” All the table looks at him with the upmost attention, even Amber wasn’t missing a bit of the story. “…So then, I accidentally roll out under the car and bringer her down with me. She was pissed, I had ruined her hair, mudded up her dress, it was hilarious.” They were all laughing, even Amber smiled a little bit but (Y/n) just stared at him. She didn’t understand how he could still remember that.
“You did it un purpose, you saw a pretty lady walking to her trailer and said ´hmm how can I ruin her day` and did just that to get my attention.” He sheepishly smiled at her and brought her closer. “Holy shit, you’re not even denying it. Thomas, you fucking creep.” She laughed with the rest of the table.
The party kept on going, the lines between friendship and more kept on blurring. The alcohol was taking its effect and most of the guest were dancing to the beat of the music, remembering the good old days. Tom and (Y/n) kept on talking, much to Ambers dismay, they would respond everything she asked. They actually seemed like a couple but still something was off with this. There was no kissing, and every touch was calculated or fearful. She caught to this quickly and was going to use it to her advantage.
“Have you guys voted yet?” Amber nicely asked, she smiled and looked at both of them.
“Voted for what?” (Y/n) asked, confused at to what she was saying.
“You know, for King and Queen of the reunion.” She stated matter of factly, rolling her eyes at (Y/n) as if it was the most obvious thing.
“Yeah, no, we really aren’t into that.” You answered casually.
“I never understood why choose a king and queen, like do they get benefits? Do they get a prize? Fame and fortune? I don’t get it. Americans are so weird.” Tom rambled on to (Y/n), smiling down at her.
“You know what guys? Lets all go dance!” Amber screamed pushing (Y/n) and Tom to the dance floor.
They all moved to the rhythm of the music for a while, jumping up and down and trying to grind on each other. (Y/n) awkwardly danced with Tom. She couldn’t keep up with his extravagant moves, or his beat. She had to left feet. Suddenly, the DJ changed the song to a slow one and he instantly placed his hand around (Y/n).
“Hey, Tom. Dance with me?” Amber said, trying to push (Y/n) away.
“Sorry Amber, but (Y/n)’s my date and I wouldn’t want to leave her alone, maybe next one.” He smiled sweetly. People around them heard and snickered at Amber, as she stomped out of their view. The music abruptly stopped and an annoying voice came out of the speakers.
“Hello class of 2013, hows the night going?” Amber said as everyone screamed in response.
“Well, we actually have guest of honors this year. Two famous people and love bird, (Y/n) and Tom Holland” Everyone clapped, some hollered and others just eyed them. “Now guys, come closer, don’t be scared.” (Y/n) and Tom moved a few steps closer to the stage, until they stopped in the center.
“Know that we have our famous couple here” Amber said into the microphone. “Why don’t you bless us with a kiss?” She smiled maliciously at them. No one was going to embarrass her, not even Tom Holland himself.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” People started chanting as (Y/n) and Tom looked at each other uncomfortably. She hated this, the unwanted attention, the pressure to do whatever these people wanted. Tom didn’t mind kissing her, hell he wanted to, but (Y/n) looked scared, uncomfortable and annoyed. His heart broke a little as he sighed, looking into her eyes.
“I can tell them off you know, we don’t have to kiss.” He bit his plump lip. She nodded and looked at his lips then at his brown marvelous eyes. She was scared. This was the first time she was going to kiss Tom as herself, without any acting-ok, maybe a little acting-involved.
“Tommy, I don’t mind…” She mumbled out, getting closure to him. He slightly nodded and pressed his warm lips to hers, for a few seconds before being suddenly pushed back.
“For fuck sake, you aren’t supposed to kiss her. God dammit, you aren’t even dating, are you? It’s me your supposed to be interested on.” Amber screeched trying to grab (Y/n). “Let fucking go of me” she screamed as Nick and another dude held her back.
“What the fuck is your problem Amber?” (Y/n) said seeing red. “Why the hell do you care if I date Tom or anyone else? Get a fucking life already.” She glared at the mad girl.
“(Y/n), you fucking tool, you were supposed to bring Tom, and he was supposed to like me.” She said, pushing out of the boys grasp. “Don't you get it? Im perfect, I’m beautiful and you’re you, a weird, ugly, wannabe stupid little girl. I’ve always been and will be better than yo-“
“Enough Amber!” Toms stern voice shut her up. “I would never be with you, not because you aren’t pretty but cause you’re a fucking bitch. Listen to yourself, you don’t even compare to (Y/n). She’s perfect in every fucking way, even when she gets annoying, uses all the hot water and refuses to help around the house. I fucking love her for who she is. God dammit, she is everything you will never be able to achieve,. Do you even have a career as big and important as hers? No. She’ even been nominated to talk at the UNICEF, you should be honored that she puts up with your shit.” (Y/n) looked at him, her mouth slightly open as he grabbed her had and pulled her out of the room.
“Tom, stop. Wait, Tom” She kept trying to stop him, as they entered the pool area. “Thomas stop!” She planted her feet, making him stop abruptly.
“What (Y/n)?” He looked at her, all traces of humor gone.
“What was that?” Pointing to the other room. “all of that?” She whispered gently.
“I don’t know, I-I just couldn’t stand Amber saying those things and-”
“You said you loved me?” She said wide eyed.
“Oh shit, look (Y/n) I just I-well you see- Its- Yes, I love you” he ended out of breath. He closed his eyes, not really wanting to see her face or feel the disappointment.
“Are you in love with me or just love me?” She asked, stepping closer to him.
“The first…?” He answered quietly,
“Tom, I’m in love with you too.” He opened his eyes and looked at how close she was. She was inches away from his lips, as she grinned.
“Really? That explains all the breakfasts and awkward stares.” He goofy smiled.
“Fuck you, Holla-“ He crashed his lips to hers, as they laughed happily. It was the start of something wonderful, something they both needed and wanted.
#Tom Holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland x oc#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#peter parker#peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#tom holland au
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My (Adjusted) Top Twenty Favorite Movies of 2019
These movies are sorted by Ranking and then Alphabetically. Genres are mostly just my opinion/what my focus was on in the movie. This is a squee post, so I'm focusing only on what I loved about these movies. Titles link to the trailers I feel best represent the movie.
Abominable - This movie made my heart feel good. Yi's story, what she's going through and what she needs to learn and grow into is so amazing. Even watching the trailer makes me tear up because of how deeply this movie moved me. There is a lot of humor and a lot of heart and I love this movie very much.
Captain Marvel - The way Brie Larson walks in this, the way she moves her body is just so affirming and inspiring. I've never seen a woman move like that, not when she's not angry or in fight mode. She moves like Thor and it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I adore Maria & Monica, Nick & Phil. I love the call-backs to other movies, the 90s references, the cat! My face hurt from smiling after watching this.
Men In Black: International - I really like the characters in this movie a whole lot. I love that we watch Molly go from being a kid to being an adult determined to find the truth. I love how prickly and dorky she is. How smart she is. I love H. He's a complicated mess of a man that uses humor to hide pain and that's like catnip! I wrote fic for this, I was so enchanted.
Rocketman - This movie is an experience. It is very cathartic and validating. There is not one thing I'd change about it. This is the movie I consider the Best of 2019. The narrative structure, the songs used, the story told, the dialog, the acting, the singing, the dancing - it's all so perfectly done and satisfying. I feel almost drugged when I watch it, even just the trailer.
War (2019) - The action is over the top and full of unexpected twists. I've never gotten this emotionally invested in characters this quickly. About fifteen minutes into it I literally fell in love with this movie. I got that whole heady rush of new love. That giggly, silly head over heels feeling that even now can overwhelm me to the point where my body doesn't know if it wants to laugh or cry and so sometimes does both. It feels like the entire trajectory of my mental world got realigned after seeing this movie. I've started learning Hindi! It's available on Amazon Prime Video, if you're a member, and it is just so unrelentingly enjoyable I hope you'll go watch it. I'll be hosting a War Watch Party at Escapade because dear god, I want more people to know this amazing movie. This is my absolute favorite movie of the year.
Charlie's Angels (2019) - This was even better the second time, and fuck am I queer. :D But for real, this was fun and funny and exciting and...*exciting*. It's light-hearted, a little over the top, and pretty fast-paced. I adore the characters and the version of the world they've created. I look forward to watching it again.
Ready Or Not - SO GROSS! :D But exciting and funny, often in snarky and vicious ways. Very, very satisfying story with a great ending. I loved all the actors in this, just acting the FUCK out of their roles.
Stuber - This is big stupid fun. Lots of physical humor and the two leads have lovely chemistry together. The story is interesting and well done and the jokes almost never punch down. It makes me laugh hard, often. Like belly laughs.
Terminator: Dark Fate - I really love these characters. I first saw Sarah Connor when my sister somehow convinced our mom to let her take my 9 year-old self to see the first Terminator movie and I've loved her ever since. I adore the new characters of Grace and Dani Ramos. Their stories, what they go through/went through is compelling and entertaining. As a sapphic woman, this movie was very visually satisfying. I would kill to have more.
The Kitchen - I'm in love with Tiffany Haddish and it was so incredibly gratifying to get to see her in a role this meaty. Her character is utterly fascinating to me and I could watch hours more of just her. Melissa's character is amazing as well, strong and sturdy like an ox who can and will trample anyone that fucks with her. Elizabeth's character is oddly sweet and relatably crazy. This movie has weight and dimension, I can feel it in a sense.
Black Christmas - I have not seen either of the earlier versions of this movie, but I really loved how unapologetically 'misandrist' this version is. There are some heavy parts, some sharp social commentary, and some light-heartedness. But best of all there are genuine moments of triumph that were incredibly validating to the rage that I've felt from times I've been helpless. I really liked the climax of the movie.
Booksmart - My favorite part of this movie is probably Billie Lourd's character Gigi. She is a batshit crazy delight. But I also loved the friendship between the two lead characters, Amy & Molly. And it was so neat to see Kaitlyn Dever in this role. Lots of laughs and lots of fun. It's nice having a queer character in a movie where it's not all about them being queer. Amy's a nerdy lesbian teenager and feels like a real person.
Pokémon Detective Pikachu - This movie is just so damn beautiful to look at. I love the mix of animation and real world. I love the mystery. Pikachu was so freaking adorable. Justice Smith did a lovely job talking to himself. :D
Godzilla: King Of Monsters - I LOVE THESE KAIJU! Sincerely, I just adore them. Mothra is SO PRETTY and Godzilla is so brave! This was a very fun popcorn movie that genuinely entertained and thrilled me. We saw it on the IMAX screen and it was AMAZING. :D
Happy Death Day 2U - Horror-Comedy Groundhog's Day is how I sum this up. It's so much fun and utterly hilarious. I really like Tree, she's shouty and smart and funny.
Harriet - Cynthia Erivo is a gift. This movie was so compelling and moving. The narrative, and visual, focus keeps the emotion and stakes high without ever descending into voyeurism. Beautiful to listen to as well.
Hustlers - The complicated and complex relationship between Ramona and Destiny is the heart of this movie and I find it endlessly fascinating. The movie settled in my tummy afterward, making me think.
Nancy Drew & The Hidden Staircase - This was a really good mystery and a fun movie. The characters are likable and Nancy is adorable.
Shazam! - I really enjoyed this. I liked the kid Billy, liked his story and journey and how he grows. I love the foster family. The darker aspects of the story were handled well, I feel. I loved the ending. Great kid actors.
Spider-Man: Far From Home - It's impossible to not like Tom Holland's Peter. He's adorable and feels authentically young. I adore MJ's everything, the nerdy-dorky-macabre thing she does is so relatable. :D Marisa Tomei remains one of my favorite actors and she's so beautiful!
We've seen 66 different movies in the theatre this year, so far, but the top 20 isn't going to change given what's left to see. We saw 68 unique movies in the theatre this year, five of the movies were not released this year (4 from last year & The Goonies), so I disqualified them for this list. We were able to do this because we had first the AMC A-List & then Regal Unlimited movie club memberships. Some of the movies we saw multiple times. These are movies that I liked the best, that entertained me the most, that I would most often be up for rewatching or a combination of that. This has been a crazy experience and I'm thankful to my bff delibby for letting me come along on the ride. (The adjustment is dropping Knives Out from the top 20 and putting Black Christmas in.)
#Abominable#Captain Marvel#Men In Black: International#Rocketman#War (2019)#Charlie's Angels (2019)#Stuber#Terminator: Dark Fate#The Kitchen#Booksmart#Pokémon Detective Pikachu#Godzilla: King of Monsters#Happy Death Day 2U#Harriet#Hustlers#Nancy Drew & The Hidden Staircase#Ready or Not#Shazam!#Spider-Man: Far From Home#long post#movies#Black Christmas (2019)
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deathly hallows book moments
warning: this one’s a rollercoaster ride of emotions, read at your own risk.
‘the idea of a teenage dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid hermione or a friendly blast-ended skrewt.’
“i don’t think you’re a waste of space.”
‘he felt like asking them to show a little more respect for his privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly much more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.’
ron: why do i have to clean my room?
mrs weasley: !!! WEDDING !!!
ron: theyre not getting married in my damn bedroom
“we’re coming with you. that was decided months ago—years, really.”
“if i picked up a sword right now, ron, and ran you through with it, i wouldn’t damage your soul at all.”
“which would be a real comfort to me, i’m sure”
harry waking up on his birthday forgetting he was 17
“accio glasses!” although they were only around a foot away, there was something immensely satisfying about seeing them zoom towards him, at least until they poked him in the eye.
ron giving harry a book called twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches for his birthday
“i’ve learned a lot. you’d be surprised, it’s not all about wandwork, either.”
‘the rest of her speech was lost; harry had got up and hugged her. he tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug and perhaps she understood them’
“are you planning to follow a career in magical law, miss granger?”
“no i’m not, i’m hoping to do some good in the world!”
“it’s time you learned some respect!”
“it’s time you earned it”
hermione: when we were little we heard stories like snow white and cinderella
ron: what’s that, an illness?
harry: rip me i never got read any stories
“a brutal triple murder by the bridegroom’s mother might put a bit of a damper on the wedding.”
“merlin’s beard, what is xenophilius lovegood wearing? he looks like an omelette.” excuse me why wasn’t auntie muriel like this in the film
“he used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run on to the dance floor, hoist up his robes and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—”
“yes, he sounds a real charmer”
harry suggesting that xenophilius lovegood’s deathly hallows necklace is the cross-section of the head of a crumple-horned snorkack
“vot is the point of being an international quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?”
‘harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where ron could stick his wand instead.’
harry reading lily’s letter and noticing that they wrote their g’s the same way as each other, i’m sobbing
‘the letter was an incredible treasure, proof that lily potter had lived, really lived’
KREACHER’S GODDAMN TALE
kreacher hitting mundungus over the head with a saucepan “perhaps just one more, master harry, for luck?”
“if anyone shouldn’t go, it’s harry, he’s got a ten thousand galleon price on his head—”
“fine, i’ll stay here, let me know if you ever defeat voldemort, won’t you?”
‘with a twinge of regret that had nothing to do with food, harry imagined the house-elf busying himself over the steak and kidney pie that harry, ron and hermione would never eat.’
‘not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.’
the sign outside the wreckage of the potters’ house, covered with messages left for harry
the child who had the nerve to say “nice costume, mister!” to mr tom riddle the dark lord voldemort, what an icon
“after you left, she cried for a week. probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see. there were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. with you gone… she’s like my sister, i love her like a sister and i reckon she feels the same way about me. it’s always been like that. i thought you knew.”
“you’ve sort of made up for it tonight, getting the sword. finishing off the horcrux. saving my life.”
“that makes me sound a lot cooler than i was”
“stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was, i’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”
ron single-handedly fighting off five snatchers by telling them he was stan shunpike
“he must’ve known i’d run out on you.”
“no, he must’ve known you’d always want to come back.”
“i just think it’s a bit spookier if it’s midnight!”
“yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives”
“death’s got an invisibility cloak?”
“so he can sneak up on people, sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking…”
luna decorating her bedroom ceiling with paintings of her friends (i’m not crying, you are)
POTTERWATCH
“we’re all human, aren’t we? every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.”
“i’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit, and i’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.”
hagrid throwing a ‘support harry potter’ party
“the fact remains he can move faster than severus snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to”
“no! you can have me, keep me!” this book went from making me smile to shattering my heart in around three pages
‘hermione was screaming again: the sound went through harry like physical pain.’
ron’s ‘passable imitation of wormtail’s wheezy voice’
“so young, to be fighting so many.”
‘ron said, “blimey, a baby!” as if he had never heard of such a thing before.’
‘he seemed set on course to become just as reckless a godfather to teddy lupin as sirius black had been to him.’
“he was never free, never, the night that your brother died he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. he started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there… it was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”
“i’m going to keep going until i succeed—or i die. don’t think i don’t know how this might end. i’ve known it for years.”
“i got this one for asking her how much muggle blood she and her brother have got.”
“blimey, neville, there’s a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.”
“yeah, well, food’s one of the five exceptions to gamp’s law of elemental transfiguration,” said ron, to general astonishment.
“why would harry potter try to get inside ravenclaw tower? potter belongs in my house!”
‘harry heard a little strain of pride in her voice, and affection for minerva mcgonagall gushed up inside him.’
harry using the cruciatus curse on amycus in front of mcgonagall because “he spat at you”
mcgonagall dueling snape and sending a swarm of daggers at him
“where’s professor snape?”
“he has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk” minerva i love you
neville throwing mandrakes over the walls
“is this the moment? OI! there’s a war going on here!”
“i know, mate, so it’s now or never, isn’t it?”
‘and percy was shaking his brother, and ron was kneeling beside them, and fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.’
‘a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting professor mcgonagall.’
harry stunned the death eater as they passed: malfoy looked around, beaming, for his saviour, and ron punched him from under the cloak. “and that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!”
trelawney using crystal balls to knock out death eaters ‘with a movement like a tennis serve’
“are you a wizard, or what?”
“you must kill me.”
“would you like me to do it now? or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?”
‘this cold-blooded walk to his own destruction would require a different kind of bravery.’
‘he was tiny in death.’
‘he felt he would have given all the time remaining to him for just one last look at them; but then, would he ever have had the strength to stop looking?’
“we’re all going to keep fighting, harry. you know that?”
“i am sorry too, sorry i will never know him… but he will know why i died and i hope he will understand. i was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”
“until the very end”
“this is, as they say, your party.” harry had no idea what this meant; dumbledore was being infuriating.
“it is a curious thing, harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.”
“do not pity the dead, harry. pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.”
“of course it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
‘the scream was the more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that professor mcgonagall could make such a sound.’
ron breaking voldemort’s silencing charm “he beat you!”
“i’ll join you when hell freezes over, dumbledore’s army!”
harry calling voldemort tom riddle like “yes, i dare”
‘tom riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken’ where please, movies?
‘mcgonagall had replaced the house tables, but nobody was sitting according to house anymore’
peeves’ song voldy’s gone mouldy
‘tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled harry with the same balm as phoenix song.’
harry FIXING HIS DAMN WAND
“i’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”
“if you’re not in gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you, but no pressure.”
albus complaining that everyone is staring and ron being like “it’s me. i’m extremely famous.”
‘the scar had not pained harry for nineteen years. all was well.’
#deathly hallows is the best book and i am not taking criticism on this#congratulations if your eyes are still dry#hp book moments#deathly hallows#harry potter books#harry potter quotes#hp textpost
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