#department of great eaters

[thedepressedpelican]

"D.O.G.E"

[olailamajnoon]

Dick: So, you know how I’m part of an online circus?

Jason: What the actual hell is an online circus?

Dick, exuberant: It’s like... an on-demand Cirque du Soleil! People book us for events—birthdays, concerts, whatever—and performers log in from all over the world.

Jason: ...so you have clowns.

Dick, visibly sweating: Well, it’s more than clowns! We have aerialists, jugglers, fire-eaters—

Jason, standing up, looming over Dick: But you have clowns.

Dick, desperate backpedal mode: Technically, yes. But they’re like artistic clowns. Highbrow. Minimal honking.

Jason: Minimal honking? You’re telling me there’s still honking?

Dick, defensive: Controlled honking. Tasteful honks only.

Jason, crossing his arms: Joker-level honks?

Dick, horrified: Joker doesn’t even have a clown permit! He’s not qualified.

Jason: He went to clown school.

Dick: No, he shot up a clown school. That’s different.

Jason, sitting back down: You know why this pisses me off.

Dick, quietly: Yeah, I do.

Jason: It’s weird, right?

Dick: Super weird.

Jason: Sometimes I feel like you should be more messed up about clowns. Like, my level of messed up.

Dick: I know, bud.

Jason: It’s just... I feel alone in this whole clown thing.

Dick: You’re not alone. Gotham as a whole has a no-clown policy. Did you know circus clowns refuse to work here?

Jason: Of course. Otherwise, your little e-circus would’ve been torched.

Dick: By Joker?

Jason, thinking about that one time he shot up a department store window for displaying clown shoes: Uh... yeah. Yeah, Joker.

Dick: Well, for what it’s worth, you’d be great in the online circus.

Jason, deadpan: You saying I’m a clown?

Dick, grinning: No, but you are a high-value performer. People would pay top dollar to see Red Hood juggle guns.

Jason, pulling a gun from his holster and spinning it effortlessly: You mean like this?

Dick, mock clapping: Bravo! Now add some honking, and you’re ready for the big leagues.

Jason, standing up, gun still in hand: You have three seconds to run.

Dick, already halfway out the door: for the record, I'm a performer, so this retreat is performative and just to keep you happy-slash-entertained

Jason: get out!

[softidiotsposts]

Anyone Can Cook

as the wise tale of ratatouille states "anyone can cook... but only the fearless can be great"

{Hello! Second fic, this time pure fluff for recovery! Warnings: kitchens being messy, mentions of bland food, cooking, mentions of the french and reader is french, picky eaters, incorrect cooking terms (probs) // word count: 2.2k}

masterlist

Leah always mentioned Ratatouille around you, like a little disease that you could never shake. The little blue rat named, Remy, had become a staple in your household- even earning you a nickname based on the rat. She thought herself funny, with you being French and all- even a native Parisian, which apparently made it even more of a gag. One that you didn't enjoy very much.

You didn't get it- the film, while good in a general sense and clearly a children's film- had no idea of what a professional kitchen actually looks like and you liked to point out the serious misconceptions to Leah every time she forced you to watch it.

"Seriously, Lee- I have had enough of this film!"

You grumble when Leah once again picks Ratatouille to watch on your weekly movie night- this makes it twice in a row that she's picked this. Making you absolutely devastated that watching Notting Hill was being put on hold, once again.

You wonder whether revoking her TV rights on film night would fix the problem but then remember that Leah could do absolutely anything and you'd probably let her do it anyway. Even if it's a chef rat based torture.

Still, it's actually getting to the point that you remember practically every single line of the film and the plot never surprises you. Not when Leah insists on watching it all the time.

You don't even think she actually enjoys the film enough to watch it all the time either so it must only be to see your reaction.

"But it's so good- really lets me get the idea of what you do at work," Leah giggles and presses start and the obnoxious "French" sounding music starts to play.

You groan, "This is not what I do."

"Yeah, yeah, Remy- You do some cooking with fancy things, I know."

"Actually, I-"

You're about to correct Leah with the most attitude you ever have when she presses her lips against yours and you melt like butter in a pan. She knows that you can never resist her when she has her soft lips against yours and it works without fail each time- even when you're terribly angry.

Leah smirks and wraps an arm around your shoulders. In turn you sigh, knowing that there is no winning when Leah has her mind set on something or whenever she uses her ultimate weapon.

It's around half way through the film, when the famous line is said that you come upon the genius idea. Taking Leah through cooking something that cannot be made via a machine- a cooking lesson with the most inept chef you've met.

The words anyone can cook are true... to a certain extent- It comes down to personal opinion mostly, what does one truly classify as cooking? In theory, if making toast with butter was considered cooking then Leah was the expert but when it came to the taste department- that is where your girlfriend falters.

Before Leah, when you still lived in France, you swore up and down you could never date anyone with the taste buds of a five year old- saying that it was the ultimate deal breaker. Now here you are, dating a famous Arsenal footballer that has the diet of a primary schooler.

At first, it had come as a shock- you went to a restaurant on your first date (not your ideal place for a date but Leah insisted) and she ordered the plainest thing on the menu. You were in such shock that you double checked the menu to see if you weren't misreading because who orders chicken nuggets at a Michelin star restaurant? And why did they even serve such a dish?

It also happened to be the moment that you fell head over heels for Leah, so you learned to get over the food very quickly.

Yet, this was a moment to teach Leah a lesson in taking you seriously... or maybe at least putting a stop to rewatching Ratatouille every single week.

So you take a week to prepare everything perfectly, you plan out what you're going to teach Leah to cook, even survey your kitchen staff before opening with a little questionnaire.

Then you make sure that all knives are sharpened, pots and pans are present- even though you're the only one who uses them- and that all other additional equipment is on hand if needed.

After all the prep work, you go out to the market early on Friday morning to buy a whole chicken since Leah is most likely to actually eat it after it's cooked- you're against wasting food in any circumstance. Then circle around to the other side for fresh vegetables. Once you have acquired all that is needed, you return home perfectly on time.

It leaves you enough time to get your chef coat that you wear when working and find the spare one you had borrowed for Leah, then set out all the ingredients on the marble countertops. It looks absolutely perfect and tickles that ocd part of you brilliantly.

In hindsight, you should have given Leah a slight pre-warning as to what the two of you were doing today but the expression on her face when she walks in is priceless- so priceless, you wish you had recorded it, so you can show it to all her teammates and your co-workers.

“What’s all this?” Leah says, clearly confused as she drops her training bag by the discarded sneakers. 

You fan your hands out, presenting all the different things across the countertops with a large grin- just as large as Leah’s everytime she picks Ratatouille over any other mildly interesting film. 

“This, my love, is your cooking crash course with the best chef in London.” 

It’s true, the London’s society of restaurateurs had voted you best chef for the third year in a row and you couldn’t be happier to flex it in Leah’s face. It’s your personal victory and you like to compare it to her Euro win with England- just to watch her turn a little red as she fiercely defends it to be harder. 

You'd normally agree but maybe she won’t be so quick to correct you next time though because as soon as she’s in the white coat with you (and after you had taken a photo of her that will be posted on instagram later.) the two of you are off, cooking what you think is going to be the driest chicken ever. 

“No- not like that!” 

You’re quick to correct her, it’s automatic and you feel as though it’s a little harsh but this is payback for making you suffer through a cartoon rat cooking. 

You place a hand on top of hers and you swear she blushes just a bit but you ignore it, instead guiding her hand to correctly dismantle the chicken into its individual parts. After helping her with one side, you watch as she tries to complete the other- and to her credit, it is not a total disaster. The cuts are a little jagged and some of the chicken looks more like it’s been massacred rather than taken apart but albeit still looks edible. 

Then she looks up at you with proud eyes and you forget about everything for a moment- all the mental gymnastics- and focus on her sweet smile that warms your heart. You come a little closer and give her a kiss on the cheek, careful not to touch her since you've just been cutting chicken.

"You're doing so well, sweetheart."

Maybe it's an exaggeration but the blush appears on Leah's cheeks after it is completely worth a white lie.

"Thanks, Remy, I have the best teacher," Leah wiggles her brows at you suggestively and you roll your eyes in return.

"Well, I do have three Michelin stars to my name," You grin and Leah smiles back at you.

Then you add, "It's like having three of those golden ball thingys that you all pine after."

Leah's face drops a bit, "You mean a ballon d'or?"

Your face lights up and you nod rapidly, "Yes, exactly!"

Leah pulls a face and furrows her brows, "Okay, baby... maybe we should focus on the cooking?"

You nod and turn your attention towards the dismantled chicken in front of the two of you- You resist the urge to cringe and put all the different parts into a bowl that you then place into the fridge.

"Let's wash hands before the next part."

The two of you take turns washing your hands, Leah flicking water at you playfully when it's her turn and you frowning when she does so.

"Take this seriously, Lee- In my kitchen-"

"Our kitchen-" She corrects you.

You raise your brows in question, "Who uses it the most?"

Leah suddenly fiddles with her coat and looks anywhere but you, you scoff but a smile finds it way to your face anyway- then you wrap an arm around her waist.

"Whatever, just focus- as if it were a match!"

Leah chuckles but steps up to the cutting board where various different vegetables are laid out with one of your personal knives that you bring to work besides it.

"So what now?" Leah asks, evident confusion in her voice.

"I want you to cut the peppers julienne and the carrots paysanne."

Leah looks at you with the most confused expression you've seen to date when the French leaves your mouth and all you can do is sigh.

"Peppers thin like matchsticks and the carrots into circles, please."

"Now that, I can understand," She laughs and begins to chop the peppers, first gutting them and throwing the seeds in the bin beside her then slicing them into strips.

You're leaning your head on her shoulder and your arms are wrapped loosely around her waist as you watch what she is doing- Leah's fingers are wrapped around the wooden handle and she guides the blade down each pepper part with some kind of precision.

You smile and encourage her by giving a light squeeze that you feel she leans into-

"Focus, that knife can cut your finger off."

You hear Leah scoff, "Maybe you shouldn't distract me then?"

You don't say anything nor do you move your arms away from her waist instead focus on the way she's slicing the various peppers- somehow, Leah begins to stray from the very thin slices into thick chucks without even acknowledging it.

You smile, "Stop for a second, Lee."

Leah pauses instantly and turns her head to look at you from where you stand behind her, she raises a brow in question and you grin in return. Then pick up a slice of pepper, holding it up for the two of you to inspect.

"Too thick, darling."

You press yourself closer to her back, forcing her to face the board again- this time you place your hands on top of hers, they are slightly warmer than yours and the heat immediately spreads, then begin to slice as you had instructed.

The rest of the vegetables go smoothly and you let them rest to the side before taking the chicken out of the fridge again-

"We are going to bake the legs, use the bones to make a sauce with the peppers and boil the carrots."

You explain, pointing to all the different elements as you do so and all Leah does is nod before stepping closer to you so she can wrap her arms around your neck.

"Yes, chef Remy," Leah chuckles when you scoff.

She gives you a quick kiss that you so desperately want to deepen but she pulls away before you can. Instead, she turns to the board and looks at you with the same focus you see on the pitch.

"Alright, let's start."

The rest of the evening goes... as well as you'd imagine- the kitchen is thankfully still standing, but in a state of utter disarray. The sauce that Leah made under your guidance had boiled over after she turned the temperature up, so that it would "cook faster". You didn't even get the chance to explain that it doesn't work like that, when a blob of sauce landed on the floor.

So there was a large spillage of sauce all over the stove and countertop but that was the least of your worries since the fire alarm had rang... once... twice... and a third time when the chicken was in the oven. Turns out that Leah cannot preheat an oven to the correct temperature either- so that chicken wasn't even dry, as you'd predicted, it was just simply not even there anymore.

All the meat had burned into crispy back sludge and the bones smelt disgusting- so disgusting that Leah had to stand on the balcony as you threw it out. Stating that she would throw up if she had to do it. 

It turns out that nothing was safe from Leah's horrid cooking skill since the carrots suffered a death by over boiling- turning into mush rather than keeping their shape after the plunge in the steaming hot water of the pot.

In the end, Leah and you end up on the plush sofa with white styrofoam take out boxes in front of you and the normally tidy kitchen left in a rather untidy state, much to your dismay- but none of you had the energy to clean on an empty stomach.

You're shoveling food into your mouth when Leah picks up the remote and you dread what's coming. You see disney being opened and the pit in your stomach turns into sickness-

"So... Ratatouille?" Leah giggles and presses play, you music ringing out of the speakers. 

"Darling- No, please!"

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Marvel

how to return home by JBS_Forever

Flash Thompson is a good person, but not a great one, so when Peter Parker accidentally gets drunk at his house party, all he can do is say, “Shit.”

Or: the one where Flash is just trying to be a decent person and get a drunk Peter home. Peter, on the other hand, has different plans.

scandal of the century by joshriku

The headline reads:

STEAMY SEX TAPE BETWEEN MAGNETO AND PROFESSOR X LEAKED!

“All right,” Charles says. “I wouldn’t call it steamy, you know, that’s an exaggeration.”

“That is seriously not the point, Professor,” Jean answers.

(A sex tape is leaked. PR crisis ensues).

DC

two vigilantes carry a cake across gotham by JBS_Forever

Jason's had a nagging suspicion that Bruce keeps stalker-esque levels of tabs on all the places he’s lived, so when Tim Drake shows up at his apartment door, it takes only a half second for Jason to level his gun directly at Tim's stupid face and to say, bored, “Give me one reason not to shoot you.”

Honestly, he knew Bruce had a problem, but sending a bat to his doorstep? This is just ridiculous.

Or: in a scheming attempt to make them bond, Bruce forces Jason and Tim on what should be a simple quest: retrieve Alfred’s birthday cake from across town and make it back before the party.

But this is Gotham. And nothing is ever simple in Gotham.

racing on the thunder by merils

Fortunately or unfortunately, Clark Kent is kind of used to getting phone calls about his too-curious-for-her-own-good wife being held hostage somewhere. Superman usually handles it.

Conner Kent gets a phone call meant for Clark Kent, who is Superman, who is currently in space. Uh.... Have no fear, Superboy is here!

What could possibly go wrong?

Original Works

Halfway Home for Wayward Mages by hoebiwan

Part 24 of mage in a wolf pack (This whole series kills me)

He wouldn’t mind it if Lada collared him, if Khalida or Dimitri collared him, because none of them have forced him to hurt anyone, whether human or wolf. They mostly just want him to—

Live, Jaime. Live.

In which the wolves rescue Jaime, but he doesn't realize he's free.

the sin eater by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman)

Part 25 of mage in a wolf pack

Lada, alpha of the Hearthstone wolf pack, finds herself in possession of a captured, broken werewolf hunter.

ATLA

Keeping Ones Head Down by ApoplecticAtPeace

Part 3 of May You be Noticed by The Fire Lord

Bao lost his ability to walk when he was 19. Despite the prejudice of many Fire Nation citizens, he got a job as an accountant in the Royal palace, in the Department of Education. After 11 years of working quietly, keeping his head down and allowing his work to be claimed by others, he expected nothing to change when Fire Lord Zuko took the throne. He didn't expect the entire department to be reformed under the new Minister Shu-Lin, and Bao's overlooked position with it.

Clone Wars

Something in the heart beat like a drum by CombatBootsandDreams

Most Jedi only have to take three formal sexual education classes. Obi-Wan, in all their blessed biology has to take five.

Or: Obi-Wan growing up in a galaxy where Stewjoni are Succubi. This changes very little--but it does make certain things a hell of lot more interesting.

A Stewjoni are succubus au that has way less to do with sex, & is more about logistics, medical problems, and cuddling. Featuring Qui-Gon being an excellent master, codywan, aromantic Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan using he/they/she pronouns, and plenty of costume changes.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Is Ignatius Prewett Molly's father or uncle?

Now, this seems to have an obvious answer, since Sirius says this:

“The pure-blood families are all interrelated,” said Sirius. “If you’re only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur’s something like my second cousin once removed. But there’s no point looking for them on here — if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it’s the Weasleys.”

(OotP)

And in the family tree, we indeed see Ignatius Prewett married Lucretia Black (Sirius' aunt):

Them being "cousins by marriage" means Ignatius is Molly's uncle and the brother of Molly's father. Great, case closed.

Except "Ignatius" is Percy’s middle name:

“Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley — ”

(OotP)

(I love that the contradictory information appears in the same book... *grinding my teeth*)

If we look at naming patterns in the wizarding world, you'd first name a child after their parents, then grandparents, then aunts and uncles (the parents' siblings), and only then other relatives (such as a child's great uncle/aunt).

We know Bill is William Arthur Weasley, sharing a name with his father.

We don't know Charlie's middle name, but I always headcanoned it to be "Septimus" after Arthur’s father.

I headcanon Fred and George's middle names are Gideon and Fabian (Molly's dead brothers), as it makes sense with the naming conventions, and I think it's cute.

We know Ron is named after Arthur’s brother "Billius", which means that they didn't run out of brothers and grandparents yet by the time they reached Ron. It means Percy would more likely be named after Molly's father or brother than her uncle.

So, is Ignatius her dad or her uncle?

I kind of assume Ignatius is Molly's father and that JKR messed up with the Black family tree. Again. Or that Sirius remembers incorrectly if we're going for a Watsonian explanation.

I mean, it's very possible Sirius didn't bother to memorize his family tree and from the "something like" he uses when describing Arthur's relation to him, it seems he isn't 100% certain of all the familial connections. So he says "cousins by marriage" even though they're just cousins.

The other possibility and my new headcanon now, is that Ignatius is Molly's father. He had Molly with an unknown first wife and married Lucretia later. If Lucretia is his second wife and Molly had a different mother it would explain how Ignatius is her father but she's Sirius' cousin by marriage.

Now we don't know if Gideon and Fabian were older or younger than Molly. I always assumed they were older due to what is said about them by Moody:

Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes ...

(OotP)

But it's possible they are her younger brothers born of Ignatius and Lucretia after they married. (They could still be in their mid-20s or even late-20s when they die in 1979 as Molly was born in late 1949 or in 1950)

So, this is my new headcanon for Molly's family.

Ignatius and some other witch had Molly, Molly's unknown mother died and Ignatius married Lucretia and had Fabian and Gideon with her, making them Molly's half brothers, if we're being technical. This makes everything about the family tree make sense.

(I really need to draw a full Black family tree with all my headcanons one of these days... I just feel like there's still stuff I haven't unpacked here)

[allthornsnopetals]

Fire on Fire E.Bridgerton

With this much desire, together we're winners They say were out of control, and some say we're sinners But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms

A/n: This was requested from an anon, long ago. Sorry for the wait.

Warning: Lady Violet x OC mother of reader (their gay, for each other), not proof-read

This is wrong, all of this is wrong!

Y/n's thoughts roar, her eyes glued to the ceiling, bare in the sheets of the woman she loves most: Eloise Bridgerton. Another day, another night. Her heart ached for her, her air being her, whom she should not have.

This is wrong!

Eloise had her heart long before she even knew it, before her first kiss with a noblemen's son, out of curiosity. It were as if, it were made for her, made for a woman and not a man. Y/n stiffs a sob, clasping a hand over her lips, as to not wake Eloise. This was wrong and she knew it. If she were to live like this, she would bring great shame to her family. But if she did not, her heart would be in great pain.

But she had made up her mind. She would wed and bring great pride to her dynasty.

"I am so sorry, Ellie." Said Y/n, trailing from her sheets, dressing herself and departing without a final goodbye or kiss to her beloved's head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Mama, did Y/n decide to have breakfast with her own family, this morning?" Eloise asks, entering the drawing room.

Violet draws her attention to her daughter, thinking and forgetting her tea. "No, my dear. She had left during the night. She seemed rather upset... Eloise, did you do something to upset miss Y/n?" Her eyes hardens with her lips drawn into a thin line, interrogating her daughter.

Eloise huffs exasperatedly, slumping on the couch opposite her. "No, mama, I have done nothing to upset her." She says, opening her book and beginning the first page with her mind occupied with her love, hoping she had not done anything to upset her.

Her mother, cocks a brow, skeptical like always, but letting her curiosity lay to rest. "It is to be calling hour in just a few moments, eat and do try. I want you to try." Violet ignores Eloise's groan of annoyance, returning to her tea and breakfast.

"If Y/n can stand calling hour, than so can you."

I already have someone to call on to, and it is not a Lord or noble.

Eloise thinks, allowing herself to smile, missing the scent of her better half. Once calling hour is over, she is to pay her a visit and perhaps visit the library and enjoy a picnic in the park. Her love is never bored of food or books, she is rather the eater and could never stop herself from indulging in what she fancies. Eloise had learned the hard way, many times.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Miss Eloise, what brings you here at such a time?" Said Maria, Y/n's mother: Lady Clearwater.

Usually a footman answers the door or even Y/n, but something important must be taking place for the lady of the house to be answering her own door. Eloise tilts her head, her brows drawn in confusion. "Lady Clearwater, I am here to spend my afternoon with Miss Y/n. Is she in?" She asks, trying to peek through the rather small opening.

Maria cages the door to her body, closing any opportunity for her to peek. "I am afraid to inform you that, Y/n cannot join you at the moment. She is sitting with a Suitor, something that you are unfamiliar with." Her tone was bitter and sour, like always. But it was always sweet for her daughter, and not for Elosie, someone she loathes.

Eloise knew it but she did not care much, after all her daughter loves her and she loves her daughter. "But calling hour is but over, Lady Clearwater." Said Eloise, sounding confused and lost.

Why, would Y/n be sitting with Suitors. She never sits with them, never.

"Well, she had many calls today. Y/n is simply unable to join you, perhaps your plump friend, Miss Penelope can accompany you today. And not my daughter, whom I have informed you to stay clear from, many times before. Now, never darken my door step with your stubborn presence again." She slams the door in her face, leaving Eloise stunned and confused. Had she done something to upset her beloved, Y/n?

No, matter. She will unmask the true intentions, regardless of the events in front and ahead. She will make things right.

Or, so she thought.

Eloise has sent letter, after letter. In each letter, she wrote of apologies, love and the longing her heart yearns for with the absence of her Y/n. At this point she is breaking, missing the girl who smelt of raspberries and limes. Who saturated her days and nights. Her dreams, stained with her face, with her love.

What did I do wrong? Did I finally say something, I should have kept to myself?

Does she not love me?

Eloise wept into her hands, hunched over her desk, staining her gloves with tears.

"Eloise are you read-." Violet pauses at the door, gasping and gliding to her daughter's side. "My darling, girl, what is the matter?" She embraces her, guiding her out of her chair and to her bed.

Eloise shook her head, seeking comfort in her mother's chest. "It seems I have upset Y/n. She hasn't spoken to me since late last week." She hiccups, rendering her voice weak and frail. "I went to visit her during and after calling hour, but her mama, a terrible woman, refuses to let me see her." Violet's nose screws up at the thought of Y/n's mother, who was in fact a nasty woman and close friends with Lady Cowper—both nasty and cruel.

She rubs comforting circles on her back, trying to sooth her. "I miss her, mama. I want her near, not far. I want her as one needs air... I want her back." Eloise sniffles, suffocating in her mother's bosom.

"She will come back to you and do not worry about her horrid mother, I will settle her dismay." Violet reassures her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n danced with yet another Suitor, feeling rather sick of this and the stench of his man stink. He smelt unpleasant and musky, something she was not used to. She was used to the scent of lavender and tulips, which reminded her of Eloise, who watched on the side lines, itching for an opportunity to speak with her. Y/n noticed, so she dragged out the dance, making a show of false intentions, waiting for someone to steal Eloise away or waddle off in search of Penelope.

She did not want to see or speak to her. She wanted her to be less stubborn, leave her be and see what she is clearly doing.

"Lady Clearwater." Said Violet, watching Y/n dance while her daughter stood watching, clearly yearning for a moment with her. "Oh, Lady Bridgertion, how are you on this fine evening?" She returns her greetings with a ruse of a smile, offering her a slight bow.

"Good, but it seems my Eloise is having a rather poor time at the moment." She watches Lady Clearwater and her smirk, clearly caring very little. "Well, that is to be expected without a Suitor or company. Is she to be called on soon or-."

"Don't disrespect my daughter. You and your nasty comments can be kept to yourself and your nasty crony friends. You have no right to speak about my daughter behind her back or make her feel less then. She has every right to see her friend, for they have been glued to the hip before Edmund's passing." Violet takes a breather, pointing her finger in her face, making sure her voice is low enough for only them to hear.

"Your daughter has saved my Eloise. Saved her from herself, from her anger, from her distaste for society and especially her bad luck with her debut. And as for your daughter, you do not deserve her. You don't deserve her kindness or her intellect. She is my girl's sun and she is her moon. They will not part, simply because you do not-."

Maria grabs Violet, dragging her to an empty room, making sure they were not spotted or followed. She pushes her in, shutting the door behind her. "How dare you, pull me along without my con-."

"Be quiet, Violet!" Said Maria, hushing the other woman.

Maria breathes through her nose, calming herself. "Your daughter and my daughter are... They are..." She stutters, finding it difficult to manage the right words.

"They are what?" Violet says, clearly impatient, growing tired of her used to be a friend's antics.

"They are going through what we went through." Violet's brows knit together, trying to understand what Maria is implying. Maria huffs in annoyance, irritated by her slow brain. "Our daughters are seeing each other behind our backs, as we did before our husbands." Maria finally explains, waiting for Violet to finally understand.

Violet's mouth falls open with her eyes blown in understanding and shock. "They are romantically involved with each other?" Said Violet, pacing the room, consumed in thought and worry.

Maria taps her foot, impatient and irradiated. "You did not see it?" Maria cocks a brow, still so arrogant and short-tempered as she was when she were but a young lady without title. Violet glares at her, stocking towards her with hell in her eyes. "You did not inform me!" She points her finger accusingly to her.

Maria scoffs. "You did not speak to me after my marriage to Lord Clearwater. Please enlighten me with an explanation of how I was to inform you."

Violet deflates, recalling her past and her decision to ignore and vow to never speak to Maria again. "Right." Said Violet, backing away and fiddling with her fingers, embarrassed and feeling rather foolish.

"They gaze, only at each other... As if it were only them. My Y/n, seeks your Eloise, as if she were the moon and the stars." Maria chuckles faintly, staring at her feet with a small smile. "I am beginning to think, that queer traits are genetics." The ladies make eye-contact, acknowledging the other for the first time in many years.

Silence fell, like sheets cascading over a mattress. They both wet their lips, a shared trait of awkwardness and loss of words. It was as it should be for the ladies of separate dynasties. One found a love match after the shatter of her lover's heart, while the other found a political match, that had its romance in its own way.

They were both aware of the cracks, scars and bruises their love had left. The rumors, the dent their families received and the long lasting yearning for the company- the love, that only they found with each other.

"It was, rather painful, Mia. Having you marry another, while I watched... It left a mark, that not even Edmund could wipe away." Violet muttered, her lip beginning to quiver. "I had wished it were a bad dream or a mistake when I heard you were with child. I wanted to believe that you'll come back. Come back to me and tell me it were all but a cruel joke, a prank, perhaps a misunderstanding." Violet croaked, straying her gaze to the floor.

Maria cups her cheeks, wiping away her tears with the pads of her thumbs, shushing her. "I am truly sorry for the hell I dragged you through, but Vi you knew the cost, th-"

Violet silenced her with a kiss, dragging her close by the waist, wanting her to shut up and fill the void Maria had left. Maria pulls back enough for air. "Vi, what on earth are-." Violet backs them both into the wall, finding her lips again, and only parting to speak.

"We can't do this to our girls. What we had, left a wound on my heart. I don't have the strength to put my daughter through the exact pain I went through, and I am sure you can't do such a thing to your darling daughter, can you Mia?" Violet pants, gazing at her lips, silently begging her to reconsider her thoughts.

At the sight of her old love, her heart wallowed. How could she have let her slip through her fingers? How could her heart move so quickly and swiftly? Has it always been for her? She shook her head, pecking Violet on the lips, testing the waters, and feeling the sparks she had assumed belonged to another, calling for a show of fireworks and dazzling colors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Maria took her daughter's arm, dragging her to the nearest exit. "Rest, stroll, take this time to breathe and enjoy the cool of the evening." She lures, ushering her to walk the gardens. "But mama, I am to fill my dance card, sir phi-."

Maria raised her head, hushing Y/n as she spots Violet prompting her daughter to do the same. "Nonsense, this night has been quite filling. Now go, enjoy some peace alone." She grinned, swatting at her to leave.

Y/n allowed her shoulders to relax, weakening her posture with a thankful smile. "Thank you mama, I will return before the night is to end." She props a kiss to her cheek before waddling off.

She strolls mindlessly, before coming to a stop at the lake side, observing it and its endless solitude. Her mind has been in shambles and glass, since her departure from the Bridgerton house. She missed her lady of lavender and tulips. She misses the way her skin felt against her own, the sound of her laugh, and the intricate works of her mind. She wanted her girl back. She wanted to be near her, that is, if it so weren't wrong.

She needed to clear her mind. Needed her heart to stop pulling, stop squeezing the life from her being when Eloise polluted her mind. She wanted everything to stop, to pause and give her peace.

Y/n coughed, using the pebble path as a place of rest, sitting and cradling her legs to her chest. She released a tired sob with her head deep in her knees.

Go, away Eloise! Leave my mind and let me rest!

But Eloise did not want to. Her steps quicken at the sight of Y/n, running to her, wanting to be near her. "Y/n, what is the matter?" She slid beside her, and without thought, pulled her into her arms.

Once she realized who it was, Y/n was pulling away, shoving Eloise away. "You are what is the matter. You cannot leave me be!" Said Y/n scooting away, and finding her feet.

Hurt crossed Eloise's face, feeling as if she was stabbed or shot by the one she loves. "I do not know of what you speak? Am I the matter? I do not understand... Have I done something to offend you, or hurt you?" Her usual confidence and stature has gone, stripped from her within just a moment.

At the sight of light losing its life in her sapphire eyes, Y/n's heart winched, with her throat running dry. She wanted to avoid this. Avoid the pain of ripping off the band aid, the prick of thread and needle, stitching a wound or the pour of alcohol on an open gash. It felt like lava, washing over her, like rain, drenching her and even drowning her. It gave something in her, something rather sore, perhaps raw.

"Do not speak to me Eloise. You are the problem." Y/n swallows dryly, walking backwards. "If we are seen here alone, we are to be dragged through the mud, the dirt, the very gutters of lower London!" She inhaled harshly, glaring pained daggers at the woman she loves, and pausing in her steps.

"They speak and you ignore their whispers... Their nasty comments. Do you know of the tons thoughts. How they believe us as sinners. Women bedding the devil!" She exclaims, fiddling with her gloves.

Eloise rolls her eyes, amusing herself with an empty laugh. "I do not care for what the ton has to say. These men and women are just-."

"But I do! I care!" She drives forward, pointing her finger at Eloise. "But you do not! You skip around with your skirts above your ankles, living a life of sparkles and ponies." She spat, shoving her finger into Eloise's chest, accusingly. "You care very little about others, and that is what the problem is." She scoffed, backing away, shocked and irritated.

"I care very little? You left my letters unread and unanswered. You left me alone, hurt and you hurt me more, now! You stabbed me! Marked me!" Said Eloise, grabbing hold of Y/n's hand and holding it against her chest.

"You branded my heart. You, Y/n Clearwater strangle my heart and make it bleed. You feed it blood cells and provide it with chambers to feed the body. You have something, that I cannot afford to give away, simply because of silly gossip. And I will not let you walk away with it." She pleaded with her, begged her with nothing but desperation in her words and eyes.

"Do not let me bleed."

But Y/n was not her mother. She will not be so easily swayed, not like this. "Lord Philips has asked for my hand and I have accepted." Said Y/n, drawing back her hand, walking back to the ball.

"But do you love him!" Eloise yells, following Y/n and yanking her back. Y/n frees herself with Eloise quickly snatching her by her forearms, forcing her in place.

"Do you love him. Say it and I'll leave you alone."

"And what if I said, I did not? What would you do then? Cage me? Keep me hostage?"

Eloise, now grinned. "Perhaps I should cage you, like a song bird. Keeping you from society, forcing you to stay with me." She jokes, drawing her closer until her arms were encased around her shoulders, trapping her in, keeping her from running away, basically hugging her. Y/n laughs, finding her lips curling into a smile of her own.

Eloise always had a way to make her laugh or feel anything but anger or sadness in heated situations like this. They could argue for five to ten minutes until Eloise said something witty, clever or comical. Eloise would never end an argument with tears or brewing anger. She is too hopelessly in love for that to happen.

"I do not sing." She perched herself on Eloise's shoulder, gazing at her with an easier tone and lacy smile. She laughed, cupping Y/n's cheek, rolling her thumb over the smooth skin. "Perhaps not very well. But that can be fixed with the candles turned down and an empty house." Eloise winks suggestively, rewarding her with a pinch to the side. "Dirty Bridgerton." Y/n pokes, soothing the spot with the pad of thumb.

The pair relish in the solace of the arms of their lovers, relieved to have the other back in their respective positions. "My love, don't let the whispers of the ton ruin us. They know nothing, of our love. Nothing about what it means to yearn for someone, quite like we do." Eloise pressed her forehead against hers, content on keeping her near.

She drew her voice to a whisper. "Do you love me, miss Clearwater?" She finally asked, waiting with steeled breath.

"Yes, stubborn Bridgerton, I do love you. How can I not when you make me a fool for thinking to wed another."

[therealvinelle]

Can I hear your opinions on rita skeeter?

You know how some stories have that only sane man, the one person who isn't impressed by our dashing main characters or who's living in a different genre and rated story? The one, typically a fan favorite, character who has a fundamentally different perspective. They can also, shortly put, be the "this is stupid and you're stupid" character.

The NBC Hannibal show has Freddie Lounds ("I'm a bad, bad man", Will threatens her. He is then surprised when she runs a feature on the FBI hiring a creep to come to crime scenes and pretend he's a serial killer.) The Vampire Diaries had Elijah (he isn't a great example of this, but legacy fans will remember all the jokes about how the reason the writers never put him in episodes was because he'd have solved all the characters' stupid problems within twenty minutes and there would be no plot for the rest of the season. Elijah was perceived to be living in a different type of show than the rest of the teen drama cast), and there are some who think that this was Snape for Harry Potter.

They are wrong.

Rita, my dove

Let's take a look at a few things Rita prints over the course of canon, where we have an insight into what actually happened and know precidely what she printed. I have my copy of Goblet of Fire with me, it's in Norwegian so I'll be translating back to English but I trust that's alright.

The Quidditch world cup incident

What we know happened:

The British Ministry was responsible for the event. It was highly prestigious, with foreign leaders attending and people from all over the world camped out near the stadion. After the first match there's celebrations, which turns into a riot. Tents are set on fire, people are chased through the camp grounds, and there's total chaos where nobody knows where their loved ones are. The riot soon turns into a homage to Voldemort, with rioters in Death Eater uniforms tormenting the Muggles living nearby and someone putting up the Dark Mark.

Arthur Weasley, who works in the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts (which is admittedly part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement), is sent to make a statement on the Ministry's behalf to the terrified witches and wizards hiding.

What Skeeter reports:

Headlining "TERROR AT THE WORLD CUP" (me translating), with an image of the Dark Mark, Rita Skeeter writes (this is Arthur skimming): "Ministry blunders... culprits not apprehended... lax security... Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace..." (original English from the wiki)

A full section (and this is me translating again): "If the terrified witches and wizards who waited for information while they hid in the woods had hoped for any sort of reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sorely disappointed. A department spokesman, who only showed up long after the Dark Mark had appeared, claimed no one had been injured but refused to give further information. It remains to be seen if this statement will quell the rumors that several bodies were seen being recovered from the woods an hour later."

Verdict

All of this is accurate, except the last sentence.

Nobody was killed in the incident. However, Skeeter was acting on the information available to her, and she makes it clear this last part is unconfirmed. Further, I'm going to come out in her defense and say that Skeeter, writing an article critical of the Ministry in a community with a very loose sense of free speech, can't take Arthur Weasley at his vague word and should refer to her own sense of judgement when deciding whether the rumors are credible enough to print or not.

As it is, a riot in a crowded area at night with people who dressed like Death Eaters, where the Dark Mark was fired into the sky, where mass panic erupted, in a world where children can produce deadly magic with their wands, could easily have led to casualties. I don't think it was a far leap for Skeeter that people might have died, and the Ministry didn't want to admit as much.

Notice her phrasing (and yes, I know you're reading my translation) when she talks about the Ministry: "It remains to be seen if this statement will quell the rumors that several bodies were seen being recovered from the woods an hour later." Not, "It remains to be seen whether the rumors that several bodies were seen being recovered from the woods an hour later were true.", or any type of phrasing indicating that the truth will out. Only rumors that may or may not be quelled.

Knowing that the Wizarding World doesn't appear to be a functional nor accountable democracy, that things like statistics likely don't exist (who will be your statistician if there is no basic math education? How will wizards interpret statistics if they don't understand basic maths, what use are error margins and percentages to them? This is important, because without statistics there is also no need to collect numbers - how many students take the core classes, how many are employed after X years, how many citizens die in a given year and of what causes... you see where I'm going with this), and that Arthur gets so defensive when reading legitimate criticism of his Ministry (not even his department or jurisdiction, mind, and Skeeter anonymized him), indicates a fraught understanding of governmental accountability and transparency.

In other words, who can say if anybody died that night. Arthur himself had gone to bed with his family as soon as the chaos was under control, and there was no tally after the riot, no controlled evacuation, nothing. Skeeter wasn't wrong for publishing what she herself clarified was speculation, either way I'm hard pressed to see her as a villain for putting the Ministry under pressure, in fact I have to wonder if this kind of pressure is necessary to get them to admit things they'd otherwise shove under the carpet.

Back to Arthur Weasley. In response to this article he says to his family (me translating again): "Molly, I must go to the office. Killing this is going to take some time."

Now, I know real governments have to cry over scandals that take time to move past as well: however, what are people upset over? What's the scandal?

Oh, yes, that the Ministry wasn't able to prevent a riot at a large sports event, flubbed completely once it had begun, and failed to give the people any kind of useful or timely information. All of that is true. The only part that isn't true, would be dispelled if they'd only put out a statement saying "no one was killed". The only reason why one such statement wouldn't work is if Ministry statements are not considered trustworthy - and this is where we return to the above.

So far, so good on Rita Skeeter, and so bad on Arthur who, going by this section, questions the Ministry less than Bellatrix Lestrange questions Voldemort.

Interlude: Percy and the vampires

While the article about the World Cup is read, Percy jumps in with an anecdote about Skeeter.

"That woman is always out to slander the Ministry," Percy said angrily. "Last week she claimed we waster our time fooling around with cauldron thickness when we should be extinguishing vampires! As though it is not expressedly stated in Guidelines for treatment of non-wizard halfhumans that-"

I'm not going to make any guesses as to what precisely Skeeter's criticism was, because Percy is angry and venting to his family, which doesn't make him likely to present her argument fairly. Who knows what, specifically, she criticized and why and what she asked for in her article. What we do know is that she questioned Ministry priorities and resource allotment, and Percy takes it personally, he gets angry about it. Hostility and defensiveness is the gut reaction.

More damningly, "that woman is always out to slander the Ministry" implies no one else is doing it.

Your star is rising, Rita.

Oh no, post got long

And this is the part where I'd go on to her interview with Harry and subsequent articles, and later on Dumbledore, but I'm realizing that would make this post a very long and decentralized mess.

Will cover it in follow up posts: today is for Rita vs. the Ministry and how the Weasleys think Muggles are so quaint with their democracricy and freedom of speech, teehee that's silly.

[trutrustories]

STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE

Part 2: Breaking Brad

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining)

Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta.

I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

EPISODE 1 HERE

Okay, Check-list, ep 2:

11) matching suits part 1 THIS ⬇️ costume department did a great job and they look badass together also, they´re walking very close to each other.

12) Loki defending /saving Mobius from Brad (with magic!) also, Mobius, dear, (my beloved) you were really going for it! Always so ready to fight! I can´t xD

Loki "don´t u dare hurt him" Laufeyson, look at his face!

13) Mobius and Loki struggling to assemble IKEA furniture- sorry Tapmad together

14) " And he knows..." I mean yeah, sure. keep remind us, that Mobius knows everything about Loki, and saw him at his worst, so we can appreciate even more the fact, that Mobius likes him and cares for him so damn much 💚🤎

15) Loki finding Mobius´s joke amusing Mobius: cracking joke right after Loki´s threatening speech:

Loki:

16) Loki being very concerned for Mobius after his outburst, saying that It´s okay, and then suggests having pie because he knows Mobius so well and is avare of the fact, that his man is stress eater I´m gonna cry they´re too pure for MCU someone adopt them

17) Bickering like married couple (part 2) 18) The whole freaking pie scene!

Just them, sharing calm, intimate moment together

Mobius opening up to Loki, and admiting he "lost it"

Loki trying to make him feel better and absolutely KILLING IT! btw, I know, that some people think, this scene doesn´t make sense, because Loki didn´t "lost it" during avengers, but was controlled by mind stone, etc.... well I think that it actually doesn´t matter. Guess what else doesn´t make sense? For example the fact, that they already talked about Loki fighting Avengers ( during their first meeting.) Loki is aware, that Mobius saw New York invasion at least twice now, and he´s telling him anyway. I would say, that point here is Loki trying to lift Mobius´s spirit, entertain him, make him smile. Why else woud he start his monolog by "remember, when...?" And I think, that this is huge, actually: Loki, using his bad memory, defeat, his humulianting experience to make Mobius feel better. So not only, that we see, he no longer care about being rurel but we see him making lightly fun of it FOR MOBIUS´S SAKE! He has different priorities now... our immortal god is a grown man now... it´s just so fucking beautiful... 🥺

Also Mobius saying to Loki: "come on, you´re the God of Mischief" Like it´s a best thing in the world, and Loki gives him THIS LOOK! (I mean that head tilt would be considered "acting" category, but I´m already making concessions by including all these things under one number :D

19) Loki and Mobius: mischievous duo

Mobius trusts him so completly!

They both such a drama queens!

And they works so well together!

like... seriously, Brad didn´t see this coming, AT ALL! xD

also... Loki complimenting his plan?!

20) "They say opposites attract. NO." Mobius´s wishfull thinking xD (But hey, it IS true. Opposites attracts. And works greatly together. That´s the only reason, why, for example, trope like grumpy one/sunshine one is so popular!) I can´t! just look at his face 🤣 Oh honey! just calm down

He is sooooooo NOT chill here xD bless him

21) Loki, not following Sylvie, but actually staying with Mobius and comforting him. AGAIN. (which is an absolutely glaring contrast compared to episode 2 in first season!)

[atlasdoe]

THE HOGWARTS CLASS OF 1978 - pt 1

EDMUND AVERY JR

Name - Edmund Avery Jr

Blood status - Pureblood

Date of birth - 7th February 1960

House - Slytherin

Academic achievement - Part of the Slug Club

He Fought in both of the wizarding wars for the Death Eaters. He managed to dodge Azkaban after the first one but the second one killed him

Cannon

Went to school the same time as The Marauders and hung out with Severus Snape, Mulciber, Wilkes and Evan Rosier

Be and Mulciber had a dark sense of humor, such as when Mulciber used dark magic on Mary MacDonald during the 1975-1976 school year

Him being friends with Severus bothered Lily Evans

He became a Death Eater and at some point during the first war he apprehended by the Ministry of Magic officials and stood trial for being a Death Eater. However, he was able to worm he way out of trouble since he pleased the Imperius Curse. He was not sent to Azkaban

He did not look for Voldemort in between the wars but was the first Death Eater to crack and grovel at Voldemorts feet during his rebirth

Avery fought in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries and was likely arrested with the other Death Eatwrs and sent to Azkaban

Whether he survived the second war is unknown

Headcanons

Had two sisters, one older and one younger

He had a great relationship with his family and got on with his sisters and parents

Was friends with Aurora Sinistra since childhood

Became friends with Severus Snape, Juliette Wilkes, Bruce Mulciber and Charity Burbage during school

Charity was the only non Pureblood that he didn't hate and that was only because "she didn't act like a Muggleborn"

He had been in love with Juliette since their first year but they only got together during their seventh

He took school very seriously and got very high grades

Because of his good grades and behaviour in the classroom, he hardly got in trouble for the bullying he did towards Muggleborn students

He could turn the charm on quickkkkk and would never get into trouble for anything

He was classically trained in the cello and would continue practicing during Hogwarts

In between the wars he moved to his family's home in Germany. He only moved back to the UK once Voldemort was resurrected

Being a part of the Death Eaters again brought up a lot of bad memories and emotions that he had been bottling up for the past 14 years, one of which being Juliettes death

During the second war he was determined to "take care" of every remaining person in his year group. because why should they live when Juliette isn't?

He was responsible for the death of Olivia Gleaves and Iola Hillicker

Severus and Bruce helped him. Severus brought information that lead to Emmeline Vances death (which was more of a Dumbledore move but Edmund didn't need to know that) and Bruce brought in George Coutas, who was Juliettes first boyfriend when she was 15 and he was 20

Somehow (idk how) Edmund discovers that Severus was the one to give the information that led to Juliettes death back in the first war. To get back on him, Edmund was the one who bring Charity to Voldemort (ever since she became the Muggle Studies professor he didn't like her anymore)

He was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts

[redheadspark]

Hiii! Can I get number #8 with Oliver Wood, please? Thank you! 💖✨

A/N - This is sweet! Thanks for requesting this!

Favourite

Summary - Oliver hates crowds, but not with you :)

Warnings - Just Fluff

“It’s going to be fine, Oli,”

“Sure,”

“Oh come on, you’re telling me this makes you nervous when you’ve played at big stadiums on your broom?”

“It’s different!”

“That’s unlikely,” 

Oliver glared at you as you both watched the massive crowd in front of you, a sea of people all around the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic.  You were meant to be there to grab a few things from your office at the Department of Magical Games and Sports floor. You were a sports writer, mostly for the professional Quidditch League and sometimes for the Minor Leagues, and you were insanely busy most of the season and sometimes in the off-season.  Because you were insanely good as a Sports journalist, you were called in at the last minute to edit a piece from another journalist or to do a mock-up piece at the last minute.  It was new for you to be summoned back to your office for a few hours when you meant to have a day off, but not on that day.

You were meant to go on your honeymoon with Oliver Wood, your delayed honeymoon.

You both had a great excuse for delaying your honeymoon: Voldemort and his uprising along with his followers taking over the Ministry of Magic.  You both had to hide out underground right after marriage, a small ceremony that only included family and a handful of friends. Bill Weasley and his fiancee Fleur were there to see you two tie the know, to which you both went to their wedding in the Burrow.  The night went from magical to mass chaos within seconds, and thankfully Oliver got the pair of you out of there in the nick of time.

Months came and went of hiding and thinking the worst, and last the Battle of Hogwarts was won and Voldemort was defeated, it was time to go back to normal once again.  But normalcy, even in the Wizarding World, will take some time.  Thankfully both yourself and Olive were patient enough since you were already married.  

Now your honeymoon was set, finding a small little cottage on the beach that was not too far away from Bill and Fleur’s beach cottage.  Oliver rented it out for a month solid at the tail end of summer, his father having connections with the wizard who owns the home. It was enchanted to not be seen by muggles and was still small and quaint enough to be for just the pair of you.

But before you could go, you had to drop off new envelopes on your desk to be sent to your editors and boss.  

“You’ve never stepped foot in the Ministry before?” You asked him with a raised brow, seeing him shake his head.

“Not since I was a kid, when me da would come in every once in a while and have me tag along.  Besides, why would I come here when I would be playing at the stadium?” He asked unamused.  He saw you drink in the lobby and all that’s changed: some of the debris and the old monuments from the Death Eaters and Voldemort were being removed to bring back the magical fountain and old statues.  There was evidence of struggle when power was taken, broken pieces on the wall and floor, and chips along the pain and windows that were scaling the offices.  It broke your heart since you loved coming to work back in the day, it wasn’t the same.

It will never feel the same.

You looked at Oliver behind you for a brief moment, seeing his face look a little green from being around all these people.  He was always a positive person and never minded meeting new people, he was just never a fan of big crowds.  Even when you two were in school together at Hogwarts, he would rather hide out in the locker room after the game than be around the spectators.  Not that he hated it, it was not his scene.  Oliver simply wanted to play Quidditch, not having the pomp and circumstances of it all.  

Especially nowadays when he was playing professionally, it was all a different breed.  He wasn’t on the main team roster just yet, only a Reserve Keeper, and would play once or twice in a game.  But that didn’t stop his tame from getting interviews and press releases after victories.  He never had to deal with that just yet, but he knew down the road he would have to

“Come on then, follow me,” You hummed, lacing your fingers together and helping Oliver weave his way through the bustling crowd.  You recognized some of the faces, grinning at the passerby and waving hello once or twice.  Oliver was tight against your side, not knowing where to go or how to walk through the crowds that were shoulder to shoulder at this point.  But his eyes were wandering, seeing the tall banners that waved the Ministry of Magic emblem which seemed to be burned at the ends and ripped in certain places.  A haunting reminder of what happened months before, almost a year ago at this point.

“The lifts are here,” You said to him as you tugged him along, Oliver following like a lost puppy with no sense of direction.  Once you found the elevators, you both snuck in and you touched the button to take you to the seventh floor.  Immediately you zoomed off, realizing that you were not alone in the lift and another witch was joining you both.  You knew who it was, another journalist but whom wrote for the Daily Prophet.

“Hello, Ophelia!” You said to her kindly as she waved.

“ ‘Ello! I thought you were going to be gone for your honeymoon by now?” Ophelia asked in confusion, but she saw Oliver and grinned at him, “Oh, ‘ello Oliver!  Good to see you!”

“Hey Ophelia good to see you again,” he said in a wave at her.

“I have to drop off my pieces before Jones has my head,” You explained, gesturing to the messenger bag on your shoulder.  

“Sorry for not coming to your wedding, but I had to hide out since…you know.” She said, trailing off for a second and you and Oliver saw her looking a bit sad at the thought. Ophelia was a close friend of yours, you were crushed to hear that she had to go hide earlier than some of the others in the Wizarding World since she was a muggle-born witch.  When you got word that she disappeared and her office was ransacked by Death Eaters, you thought of the worst.  But she simply went off the radar and fled the country before Voldemort took power, hiding out in Africa with family and was safe from any harm.

You reached over to squeeze her shoulder, “I’m glad you’re okay.  We’ll have to meet again and chat up, yeah?”

She nodded and smiled, the lift coming to a stop on the 7th level.   With a last wave to her, both you and Oliver left the lift and watched the lift whisk her away to the Daily Prophet offices.  The seventh level was dim, even with the lit lamps and some of the walls still damaged from magic.  You could see a few custodians attempting to polish out the walls and floors, rehanging a few pictures of the wall of past Quidditch Player Greats and members of Councils.  Oliver looked in amazement as he followed you down the hallway.  Your office is on the left side, you see your name on a plaque outside the black oak door that had a flew blast debris on the wood surface.  

“Oh, a nameplate?” Oliver asked in shock as you grinned and took out your wand. Flicking it once, you unlocked the door within a millisecond.

“Yeah, they gave me that last year when I was promoted,” You explained before opening the door, “You would know if you’d come and visit,”

“Har Har,” He said in a mocking tone, though he was laughing when you both went inside.  Your room was a pinch bigger than your old office, with a stunning view of the lobby that you were in the moment before.  The maroon carpet somehow went well with the deep green walls and a small fireplace that sprung to life in the corner.  Finally, some light came into the room, and Oliver looked in amazement at the memorabilia you had.

The curved walls were covered from top to bottom with pictures, news articles, trinkets, and memorabilia that had something to do with quidditch.  Players from the past that you loved, signed team pictures from past winners from the Quidditch World Cup, your old Broom from your time playing at Hogwarts along with your old set of gloves you wore when your house won your 6th year.  Other little pieces perched on shelves for your travels around the world to see other games globally, your office was slightly cramped but perfect for you.  

Oliver’s eyes went big as he was looking at everything as you were unloading your messenger bag on your black oak desk, reshuffling your papers, and making it organized.  

“Merlin’s Beard,” He said in a gasp as you looked up and saw him stare at a particular picture, “This was taken 10 years ago!  I remember this game when I was a kid, but how did—“

“My dad was a journalist too, remember?” You reminded him as he was seeing the old Bulgarian Team picture from 10 years back, each player signed it by your face that was cheering in the picture and grinning from ear to ear, “He sent me that picture as a gift when I got the entry job as a journalist.  My dad’s only wish and request is that he wanted me to hang it up when I got my own office, and I did,”  

“I love your dad more now,” Oliver said in amazement as you giggled, but he then looked at you with a raised brow.

“So…I don’t get to make the wall?” He asked in a joking tone, walking over to your desk slowly as you rolled your eyes, “Your husband and the love of your life, on the brink of being one of the best Puddlemore United players in a century—“

“Look on my desk, darling,” You gently interrupted him, watching his mouth slam shut.  He walked over to where you were, seeing your desk fully for the first time and his eyes going big from what he saw.  There were three picture frames perched on the top of the desk, two to the left and one to the right.  The two to the left were of your old Gryffindor Quidditch Team when you were on the Quidditch Cup, Oliver was on the shot with his Gryffindor Quidditch Robes and a massive grin on his face as he held the Quidditch Cup in his hands.  

The second picture was of Oliver playing his first game as the Gryffindor Captain in his 4th year, hovering in front of the Goalposts and looking determined and true while he was scanning the area.  You remembered taking it from the stands and thinking of him as handsome.

The last picture that was on the right was of your Wedding Day, Oliver clad in his suit and you in a white dress as you two kissed in front of your family with enchanted flower petals falling around the two of you.

Oliver’s face melted from the sight as you slid your arm around his and leaned your head on his shoulder, “I wanted my favorite pictures of my favorite person here on the desk so I can see them every day.  The pictures on the wall are great, but they're not my favorite. You don’t deserve to be on the wall, Oli.  Not with me,”

Oliver kissed you sweetly, feeling more loved than ever.  And after your honeymoon, he made it a tradition to come to your office at least once a week to have lunch with you and to fill you in on the quidditch gossip.

Even if that meant he would have to deal with the crowds below in the lobby or anywhere else. He would brave it just for you.

The End

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu OVA - Book 3, Dragon Mountain [PART 2]

Goultard's canonical gay husband is literally looking like a loaf of bread.

[pointing at the screen and clapping] This used to be Goultard's gay lover. [salutes to the biggest hero of doomed yaoi]

Please... Translate the manga... I believe in you, scanlation team that is currently doing that!

[boos]

LEORICTUS WARCRIME ENABLER ATE PINPIN'S ARM LMAOO

the face of an arm-eater....

Ngl I wish it was 'Salar who did this. Because then I could make unfunny jokes about Joris.

I'm sure that Joris isn't feeling in any way suicidal or despaired about the fact that internally he agreed with Adamai but let Yugo do this because Yugo is based and stuff. Surely he isn't having a fucking mental breakdown.

THEY PUT ME IN A ROOM FULL OF RATS. AND RATS MAKE ME CRAZY.

By which I mean, in a room full of distraught civilians, of course Kerubim's main concern is his brother.

He probably feels so powerless... Joris is gone and he has no idea if he is okay. He can't even console Atcham, because this situation is completely out of their control.

BUT THEN HE COLLECTS HIMSELF, VISIBLY SHAKING HIS HEAD IN SOME SORT OF INTERNAL ARGUMENT.

He knows he's the one who has to give people hope — his family, and the people around him, he can't let them spiral into panic. It's one of the few things he can do, at times like these.

Also, at the sound of Kerubim's voice, Atcham opens his eyes to look at him. Hngfhngnhnnghnfnhnn

He is doing so well in the "not losing his mind because he's the only one in his family who can do that" department... He's always been good at this.

I am now an Ankama hater because they won't show us Joris's despaired face at the realization of their impending doom.

I WILL TAKE CRUMBS THANK YOU.

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES I'M INSANE.

Goultard not mentioning missing his dead ex husband after seeing him is an intant -5 points to this OVA.

I want to give a shout-out to @bitter-panacea because his Goultard takes are so good. It really gave me a new appreciation for the character, and I can't stop smiling at his behaviours here. A wonderful creature.

tiny

Atcham seems to be the first to hear the return of Yugo and Tristepin.

Joris might not necessarily be the second one to notice, considering we only see his face zoomed in, though.

Still, he looks pretty in these 2 screenshots, so I'm including them.

Need this frame injected intravenously.

[Laughs in Wakfu The Great Wave Manga] [Laughs in Season 4] [Laughs in Waven]

Not Kerubim and Atcham standing a polite "we don't know him" distance from Joris 😭

(Personally, I think they're standing a little far from him because he's technically in the middle of fulfilling his diplomatic duties, and currently standing next to a king...)

Of course the Brotherhood of Tofu's biggest fan has a huge happy grin on his face during this... :D

It's very cute how happy he is. There isn't much not to be happy about: Besides his two friends getting married, the good news is that the Chaos of Ogrest has been stopped, almost nobody had to die (we don't know the fatality rate of the meteorites that got dropped to WoT), AND nobody he cares about died.

[katakosmos]

imagine barty working at the ministry. it's been his lifelong dream, ever since he was 6 years old and he tried to follow his dad to work just because... wow. the ministry. the center of all wizarding england politics. he's worked so hard, both at school and at home, just to be there and he finally arranged his first job interview (in a horrible department where he only has to catalog documents, day and night). he hasn't slept properly in a week, he eats only granola bars and drinks whatever weird drink wizards have that's similar to coffee. and he hates it, he hates working at the ministry so much that it makes his skin boil.

his childhood dream shattered into a thousand pieces. really sad. but barty has been living with this disappointment since he was 13, and he realized that the government didn't care about him at all. it had no concern for the well-being of the citizens it was supposed to protect. it didn't help him when he was a student by giving him with a terrible education; it didn't protect the half-bloods and muggle-borns who disappeared from the streets even in broad daylight; it didn't help the workers with a minimum wage and a family to feed. it didn't do anything. the ministry.

but the death eaters did. they did something. and that's why he works at the ministry now, the last place on earth he'd want to be. he thinks back to his sixteen-year-old self, and how crazy he would have been to know that only a year later he would end up there, at the ministry (if that was what a bunch of ignorant, incompetent politicians could still be called).

at the end of his seventh year at hogwarts he was stressed about his future. barty didn't want to disappoint his father, he didn't want to lose his admiration. yet he didn't know what he was going to do with his life... until regulus black, that sickly slytherin boy, took him aside and told him that he knew the death eaters. that he was part of them. barty had been reading their articles on the newspapers for years, he admired them as he could never admire anyone else: they were determined revolutionaries, the only ones capable of changing the future and saving the country's politics. regulus asked barty if he wanted to become a death eater too. and barty, of course, said yes.

so now he works at the ministry, in front of the desk of a dumb politician who's too pleased with his stupid and useless reforms. so sure of himself, he doesn't even think that barty can read all his confidential documents as soon as he leaves his office. barty has been gathering information for months. he's a rat. a spy. whatever you want to call it. by day, he listens; by night, he talks. he reports everything to voldemort. he has stopped sleeping, and sometimes he falls asleep on his desk in the evening and is awakened by an itch on his forearm, that he's always so careful to cover. and that's how he knows that his master is calling him. he leaves the ministry without eating his dinner. he doesn't even have breakfast and lunch anymore, he barely eats. his mother is worried. but barty's happy, because he knows that when evening comes he can see them again. the death eaters.

they are a large group of very different people, all with very different interests and goals. barty doesn't like everyone. like, the lestranges: he doesn't agree with the use of curses, and he thinks that blood prejudices are stupid bigotry of the past. voldemort doesn't say anything about it, though. he never says anything, it's impossible to understand what he thinks. barty only knows that he's the enemy of the ministry, and that's the important thing. voldemort wants to change the country, great. it doesn't matter if he's crazy or if he kills someone, barty doesn't care. it won't be his problem anyway, his family is part of the sacred 28.

what is really important now is to change the future.

the ministry doesn't do anything. the death eaters do. with his help, they'll certainly do something. barty is sure of that.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

what's the one harry potter pairing u like that u mentioned in the tags of your hinny post?

Anonymous: Can I ask who that minor character you ship with Harry is? For some absurd reason my mind jumped to Stan Shunpike lol but it's probably not him.... Or is it?

Okay, so this is kind of a funny story. Like, my pipeline through hp pairings was a weird one. Like, I used to read a lot of Harry pairings, still do on occasion (some make more sense than others). None of them were ones I would point at and say: "that should've happened in the books"

One day, I was innocently writing a fic (canon divergence of GoF), and it was just for me, for funnsies, never posted it anywhere and not planning to. And I planned to pair Harry with someone there (honestly, I don't remember who because I didn't write the plan down) but when writing, Harry ended up with a different character. And it was so strange to me because that never happened.

Like, how do you write a ship accidentally?

But I did. I wrote Harry into a ship by accident. So I went back to the books to try and figure out why the hell would my subconscious decide that's the way to go.

I'll also preface it by all this being my subjective opinion and I do read other Harry ships in fics, this one just quickly became my favorite to write (and the only one I write). Also, I don't actually think this is a pairing that should've happened in the books, it's place is in fic and that's where I like it.

So, the character I accidentally shipped with Harry is... *drumroll*

Stan Shunpike!

Not really, it's:

Theodore Nott

Now, you might look at the name and go: "Who the fuck is that?"

And you'll be correct. Theo has 0 speaking lines in the entire book series. His name appears twice. He, himself, as a person, only appeared on page, like, 3 times in the background. The scene that gives the most information about him is other characters talking about him. He isn't even present.

That being said, I'm very good at extrapolating a lot of information from very little evidence. So allow me, to walk you through who is Theodore Nott and why I ship him with Harry.

Basic Information

So, let's start with the most basic overview before I pull out the quotes and go any deeper.

We know Theo is a Slytherin student in Harry's year. So he likely shares a dorm with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Theo's father is both at the graveyard at the end of GoF and in the Department of Mysteries at the end of OotP, so we know he is a Death Eater. We also know Thoe's father was one of the first and closest Death Eaters to Voldemort, who waited for him during his interview with Dumbledore in 1967:

“Then if I were to go to the Hog’s Head tonight, I would not find a group of them — Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov — awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed...”

(HBP, page 444)

We also know the Nott family is "as pure-blooded as the Malfoys" according to JKR in an interview. We also know Theo's great-grandfather (maybe? the family relation isn't clear), Cantankerus Nott, is suspected to be the one who wrote the Pure-Blood Dictionary, the book that coined the term "Sacred 28" and made that list (which the Nott family are on).

The name Nott is potentially to be derived from the name Nótt, which is the personification of the night in Norse Mythology. So it has been theorized the Nott family have a Nordic origin. Possible, but it doesn't really matter for this post.

What does, is that he comes from a dark, Death Eater, blood-purist family similar to the Malfoys. Even so, Theo never took the Dark Mark and never joined Voldemort in the books.

Now, that we have the basic information out of the way, let's look at Theodore as a person.

All the details I could gather from the books

Alright, now we get to the fun part. That is, me going through all the relevant scenes that mention Theodore Nott and actually creating a character psychoanalysis out of basically nothing.

So, the quotes aren't organized in a particular order. I'm just going to explain Theo and then explain why all this makes me ship him with Harry.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or —” “I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.” Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh.

(HBP, page 150)

This is a part of the conversation between Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, Harry overhears when he is hiding in their compartment at the beginning of HBP. I have a few things to note regarding this scene.

Firstly, throughout this conversation, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco all call each other by their first name. This shows closeness, they are all friendly and familiar enough to use their first names with each other. Theo, though, is referred to as "Nott" by all three in the compartment.

He doesn't actually sit in their compartment which is in itself a sign about how he isn't really friendly with Draco's group. Considering the group is most of his year from his house, Theo is likely very lonely, and it will be apparent from other scenes I bring up later.

Secondly, Theo's father is in Azkaban. We know Draco is bothered about his own father's predicament. He mentions it to Harry and bothers him over it, Theo doesn't though. Theo doesn't seem to be bothered by Harry or his father's incarceration.

The only conclusion I can draw from this is that the relationship between Theo and his father is not a good one.

(I know some fics like to have Lucius be abusive towards Draco, for some reason. But the books really don't back this up. Lucius loves Draco and Draco adores his father)

Theo, though, Theo seems to be the one with a very strained relationship with his father. Strained enough that he isn't bothered the man is in Azkaban. What I'm saying is that Theo's father likely abuses or mistreats him in some capacity.

If anything more was needed to complete Harry’s happiness, it was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle’s reactions. He saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library, together with a weedy-looking boy Hermione whispered was called Theodore Nott. They looked around at Harry as he browsed the shelves for the book he needed on Partial Vanishment, and Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe. Harry knew perfectly well why they were acting like this: He had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters

(OotP, page 583)

This is a scene at the end of OotP after Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Theo's fathers were caught at the ministry and sent to Azkaban because they are Death Eaters. There are a few important notes about this scene.

The first, Hermione knows Theo, while Harry and Ron don't really. This means she likely knows him from the classes she takes and Harry and Ron don't — Arithmancy and/or Ancient Runes.

The second, he is sitting with other Death Eater children, but I don't think it's by choice. I mentioned in the previous quote how he isn't close to Draco and his crew. He sits with them here mostly because he doesn't have another choice. Theo doesn't seem to really have any friends, so he sits with the closest people he has to friends — kids he has known since he was young because their fathers were in the same circle.

The other note about this is that Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco are all mentioned as being threatening and malicious towards Harry because they don't like that their fathers are in Azkaban. Theo, though, Theo doesn't threaten Harry, he isn't part of their whisperings. As I mentioned above, he's likely happy his father is in Azkaban.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes were growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck, and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness. It looked around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs. A great wave of relief broke over Harry. Here at last was proof that he had not imagined these creatures, that they were real: Hagrid knew about them too. He looked eagerly at Ron, but Ron was still staring around into the trees and after a few seconds he whispered, “Why doesn’t Hagrid call again?” Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant as Ron’s and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face, and Neville, whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.

(OotP, page 445)

“The only people who can see thestrals,” she said, “are people who have seen death.”

(OotP, page 446)

The stringy Slytherin boy mentioned here is Theo. This scene proves that:

He takes Care of Magical Creatures

He saw someone die

Let's explore the second one for a moment. The fact Theo can see Thestrals means he watched someone die and was old enough to comprehend what he was seeing. We also know Theo's mother is dead. So it's likely the person he watched die was his mother.

I also want to draw attention to Theo's distaste towards Thestrals. He could likely see them carrying the carriages every year since 2nd year, it's not his first time seeing them. But it doesn't stop his displeasure with their sight from showing. Which says something about him. It means he likely recalls his mother and her death whenever he looks at the Thestrals. and these are memories Theo rather not experience.

We don't know how his mother died, but I'd hazard a guess it wasn't natural. After all, wizards have long life spans, they are more durable to illness and injury, and don't usually die from accidents unless very extreme or magical. And there was no epidemic of dragonpox (a disease that does tend to kill wizards) in the time since 1980 and the books. So, she was more likely killed at some point between 1985(ish) and 1991.

“No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m Muggle-born, you see.” Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

(HBP, pages 185-186)

First, Theo is an O student in potions since he is in the potions NEWT class, and was probably meant to be there even if Snape was the teacher.

Second, again, Theo doesn't really have friends. He sits next to Draco as the only other Slytherin in the class. Also, they share the circumstances of being sons of Death Eaters currently in Azkaban. Although both of them seem to deal with it quite differently.

Third, Theo joins Draco in making fun of Hermione's blood status, but he does not initiate it. Considering the environment he was raised in and is in, it makes sense he would make fun of it. Whether he's a blood-purist or not, he would want to keep his image considering he doesn't have many allies. Hanging out with Draco is survival, not friendship. They aren't even on a first-name basis with each other.

“Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes,” he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. . . .

(HBP, page 186)

The final quote I have about Theo is from the same potions class as above. Both he and Draco are portrayed here as underestimating amortentia and its potential damage. It makes sense for their upbringing in the Wizarding World, which has no real laws or regulations regarding love potions that are seen as harmless fun more often than not.

I'll add Theo likely didn't witness a healthy romantic relationship. Considering his father is a Death Eater who is likely abusive and may or may not have killed his mother. With this as his reference to a marriage, it's clear why he'd look down on love and love potions.

Why I think Theo and Harry have potential

Okay, so now that we know who Theodore Nott is, let's talk about why I ship him with Harry.

I think Harry, in general, would get along best with a clever partner with the ability to be ruthless (Slytherins or Ron fall into this category). Because Harry isn't some golden savior; he casts unforgivables, and is very willing to poison Umbridge or Crocio Snape if he could get away with it. He needs a partner that won't be horrified by these thoughts.

Also, Theo literally never speaks on page. Even when spoken to, his reactions are silent. I think this quiet and no need to talk, the ability to be comfortable in silence, is something that would be comfortable for Harry. Harry in the books finds himself annoyed with Ron and Hermione's constant banter on occasion, so I think it fits well.

Theo would also be comfortable around Harry without a need to play a certain part. Because Harry wouldn't care about that. He would honestly rather Theo forgo the pure-blood Slytherin act.

I feel like Harry and Theo, have a good potential to understand each other. Theo lost his mother and likely experiences abuse from his father. It makes them very likely to trauma bond over their crap life and shared experience. Two out of three only ones who could see the Thestrals in the entire class.

The other thing I feel they could connect over is being lonely. Harry spent all his childhood until Hogwarts basically being on his own. Theo stayed on his own. Draco at least has his parents, he has other students he's closer to, not that he shares everything with them, but he has some support network. Theo has none. And this is something Harry knows well.

Theo, I think, wouldn't expect anything specific from Harry. He doesn't even interact with him, not to mock him, and not to idolize him, he doesn't care at all. And we know how much Harry appreciates being thought of as Harry and not as the Boy-Who-Lived. Theo would allow Harry to be himself without some mold he wants him to fit in.

The fact Theo never becomes a Death Eater, even though he was in Draco's year and his father was a Death Eater before Lucius (and in better standing than Lucius with Voldemort) is so interesting. It's somewhat surprising Theo wasn't marked. It means he didn't want to be. It means that Theo Nott didn't want to torture and kill muggleborns or blood traitors, or anyone really. And he didn't want to swear his allegiance to Voldemort. This is just a fascinating fact to me and something I enjoy considering. What life experience made him come to that conclusion? Was it just his dislike of his father that pushed him away? Could he have been another Sirius Black (Gryffindor in a Slytherin family) under slightly different circumstances? I mean, Voldemort likely wouldn't force him to become a Death Eater, but would his father? I don't know what at all went down there, but I like that potential story.

We also know he wasn't part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, even though some minor Slytherins were mentioned to be part of it. He just seems to be an actually decent guy (I don't care what Cursed Child says about him, I know he's there but I avoided almost anything to do with Cursed Child so I barely know the plot).

Finally, this is a character Harry doesn't have as much drama to get over with. Yes, sometimes I want to read overcoming drama between characters before it becomes a romance, but sometimes I want something chiller than that. And Theo is a really chill, safe, Slytherin option for Harry.

[postsbycass]

A Different Choice

what if Igor Karkaroff made a different choice?

[word count: 842 (?)]

The chair at the center of the courtroom glowed gold. Chains slithered out from the armrests like living things, snapping tight around Igor Karkaroff’s wrists and restraining him. In the middle of it all, Barty Crouch Sr. sat like a monument to order itself—face carved from stone.

There was no emotion in his eyes.

“Igor Karkaroff,” Crouch announced, his voice cold and commanding. “You have been brought from Azkaban at your own request to present evidence to this council. Should your testimony prove consequential, the council may be prepared to order your immediate release. Until such time, you remain, in the eyes of the Ministry, a convicted Death Eater. Do you accept these terms?”

Karkaroff, pale and gaunt from months in Azkaban, leaned forward as far as the chains would allow. His breath came in short, ragged bursts.

“I do, sir.”

His eyes, bloodshot and wild, darted between the many faces above him, searching for any sign of sympathy. He found none.

“And what do you wish to present?” Crouch pressed, impatient.

“I have names, sir!”

The council shifted. Some members exchanged skeptical glances; others leaned in with interest. Karkaroff swallowed, throat dry.

“There was a—Rosier! Evan Rosier!”

A pause. The only sound was the faint shuffling of parchment as The Council flipped through records.

“Rosier is dead,” Barty Sr. stated flatly, without even looking up.

Karkaroff blanched, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “I—I didn’t know…”

“If that is all the witness has to offer—”

“No, no!” Karkaroff’s voice cracked as he lurched against the chair, chains rattling. Desperation filled his tone. “There was—Rookwood! Augustus Rookwood!” he rasped, seizing the name like a lifeline. “He was a spy! Passed secrets straight from the Department of Mysteries!”

From the spectator’s gallery, Rita Skeeter leaned forward, quill flying across her notepad with an almost predatory glee.

Crouch’s brows lifted, just slightly. “Augustus Rookwood? Of the Department of Mysteries?”

“Yes, yes, the very same!” Karkaroff’s voice rose in pitch. “He passed information to You-Know-Who from inside the Ministry itself!”

Crouch nodded, impassive. “Very well. The council will deliberate. In the meantime, you will be returned to Azkaban—”

“NO!” Karkaroff screeched, twisting in his seat. The golden light around the chair flared brighter, and the chains tugged, more than ready to drag him back into the abyss. “Wait, wait, please! I have more! What about Snape?! Severus Snape!”

The courtroom stirred at the name.

From the edge of the chamber, Dumbledore rose. His face was calm, but there was a firmness in his gaze.

“The council is very much aware of this matter,” the headmaster said evenly. “Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. And, prior to Lord Voldemort’s downfall, he turned spy for our cause, at great personal risk—”

“That’s a lie!” Karkaroff shrieked. He thrashed against the chair, veins bulging in his neck. “Snape remains faithful to the Dark Lord—!”

“SILENCE!”

Crouch’s voiced cut through the chamber, roared between each of the sharp cracks from his gavel.

He stood, eyes blazing. “Unless the witness possesses any genuine name of consequence, this session is now concluded!”

The courtroom fell into an uneasy hush.

Karkaroff froze. His breath came fast and shallow. The chains stirred, preparing to drag him toward the shadows that led to Azkaban.

And then—

“Oh, no no no… there is one more,” he rasped, voice barely more than a whisper. His entire body was trembling now, the thin fabric of his robes fluttering with each shaky breath. “I’ve heard about one more!”

Crouch’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s that?”

Karkaroff’s gaze darted around the room, wild and vindictive.

“The name…” He gasped like a man breaking the surface after drowning.

“Yes?”

The room seemed to tilt.

Karkaroff’s eyes snapped up, locking with Crouch’s. “I know for a fact this person took part in the capture—and by means of the Cruciatus Curse, tortured the Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife!”

The chamber erupted into whispers. Voices of quiet disbelief, horror, and perhaps outrage. Even Dumbledore’s eyes darkened.

Crouch’s face twisted, impatience and something colder flashing across his features. He leaned forward, hands braced against the podium.

“The name, Karkaroff!” he thundered. “Give us the wretched name!”

Karkaroff’s lips curled into something between a sneer and a grimace.

“Barty Crouch…”

The words fell like lead into the silence.

Every head turned.

Karkaroff froze.

For a moment, he said nothing, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. He had another name. A real one. Someone who had stood beside him in the shadows, wand raised without hesitation.

Barty Crouch Junior.

He could say it. The son of the man glaring down at him. The truth, undeniable and damning.

But then what? His only remaining leverage, spent. A pawn sacrificed without a guarantee of his own freedom.

Or…

Karkaroff’s gaze flickered upward, locking on Crouch Sr.’s face. Cold. Unyielding. Merciless.

The kind of man who’d sooner crush his own blood than suffer political disgrace.

The kind of man no one would dare accuse.

Karkaroff’s lips twisted upwards into a sinister grin. He chose.

“Senior.”

[author’s note: i love you sm @amethystandemma + @glasswoodonthebrain ]

[winchestergirl2]

October Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Recs List

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

The One That Got Away Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | @pink-sparkly-witch

Authors Summary: Childhood sweethearts, Dean and Y/N, are very much in love with each other. When she accepts a full scholarship to an out-of-state college, she finally gets to leave behind her traumatic childhood and abusive father, but it means leaving Dean behind too.

Over a decade later, Y/N returns to Lawrence, Kansas, and finally tries to heal the only wounds she has left… the psychological and emotional scars her father gave her and the heartbreak she endured by Dean Winchester, the one that got away.

Smoke Eater Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | @zepskies

Authors Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

Escape Chapter 66 | Chapter 67 | Chapter 68 | @soaringeag1e

Authors Summary: A serial killer is reeking havoc around Lawrence, Kansas, and Detective Dean Winchester is getting really sick of finding more and more bodies. But one day, he gets a call about another victim. But instead of the location of another body, he gets news that this one escaped the hell of this mans actions.

Massages And More @miss-madness67

Authors Summary: Dean really likes your massage.

Meant To Be Mine @negans-lucille-tblr

Authors Summary: A mix up leads to life changing consequences. 

Sam Winchester

Yellow @idreamofhazel

Authors Summary: I listened to Yellow by Coldplay and got inspired. 

Untitled Sam Winchester Drabble @supernaturalfreewill

Relax @imagineteamfreewill

Authors Summary: It’s almost the end of the semester and your schedule is jam-packed, leaving you stressed, overwhelmed, and overtired. Thankfully, Sam Winchester is the best at helping you relax.

Family Friends and Loved Ones @waywardxwords

Authors Summary: You make it home for Thanksgiving to see your family again, bringing Sam and Dean with you.

The Boys

Soldier Boy

New Blood @wayward-dreamer

Authors Summary: The executives at Vought American are enamoured by the new supe at the annual shareholders party, hoping to make her a new addition to Payback. Soldier Boy isn't pleased with the idea, as he's the only one who gets to decide who joins his team. He tells her this fact, and braces himself for a fight, but gets something much better out of their encounter.

Friday the 13th

Clay Miller

Flyers @plus-size-reader

Authors Summary: Going out with Clay to help look for Whitney and bonding with him in a way that you never have before

Friday The 13th (2009) @bored-writer101

Authors Summary: You are Clay Miller’s girlfriend. He’s taken you to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, looking for his sister, Whitney. She’s been missing for a month and a half after she went on a camping trip with some friends. You and Clay are determined to find her, but there is a hockey masked killer who is waiting in the woods for you.

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

Wonderwall @deanbrainrotwritings

Authors Summary: teasing beau during work and leaving without finishing. when he gets home he wants to pick up where they left off.

Only Ever Holding Onto You Part 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: When Beau Arlen called and asked Y/N to join him at the Lewis & Clark County Sheriff's Department, she knew she should have turned him down. Sure, he made a great case for her relocation, but it was the sound of his voice that had her put in for an immediate transfer. After all, he was worried and needed her; how could she say no? Yet, the more time she spends in Big Sky Country, the more Y/N wonders if she should have stayed in Houston.

Untitled Beau Arlen Drabble @smellingofpoetry

Montana Stars @spnbaby-67

Authors Summary Just cute one shot between Beau Arlen and his girl, Y/N.

Chicago Fire

Matt Casey

Better late than never @deanstead

Authors Summary: After witnessing Y/N’s interaction with Connor, Matt finally decides to tell her how he feels

Imagine: Seeing Matt at Molly's after returning to Chicago @deanstead

Untitled Matt Casey Drabble @deanstead

Authors Summary: Matt surprising his wife with a puppy

Ten Inch Hero

Boaz Priestly

Movie Night To Remember @daughterofcain-67

Authors Summary: In honor of spooky season, The Beach City Grill is throwing a Horror movie night event by putting on the movie Scream! The employees are excited, and so are some of the regulars. Your friends, Piper, Jen and Tish invite you to come because she knows you're another regular at the grill. But the thing is, you hate scary movies, crime shows or anything dealing with blood. Which will be scarier? Actually watching this movie, or embarrassing yourself in front of a guy you like?

The Body @deanbrainrotwritings

Authors Summary: tish dared priestly to wear a dress to work in exchange for a week off.

Smallville

Jason Teague

Assistant Hottie @zepskies

Authors Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university. 

[box-of-paperclips]

Hi! Umm.. ANCIENT DORCAS.

YES ANCIENT DORCAS!!! I did not forget about this ask, I just tried to type out a bunch more of the Dorcas lore and it was taking way too long, so I'll probably give it it's own post sometime. But I WILL take this opportunity to ramble.

She's Victorian! She's snappy! She used to work for some sort of Ministry-funded wizarding history and heritage department, but after the whole Grindelwald deal went down, she lost confidence in their ability to handle anything and quit. Now she works for an independent historical research firm. She's great at breaking curses, but she prefers to try and relocate them off the historical sites onto easily transportable objects for further study.

In her fifth year at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, at age eleven, would not stop bugging her about her Ancient Runes coursework until she finally agreed to tutor him for a subject he wasn't even taking. Dorcas can and will use her connection with eleven-year-old Albus against him - she does respect him, of course, but it's very difficult to take his cryptic wisdom quite as seriously when you've seen him as a snotty little first year bouncing around Hogwarts carrying double his weight in library books. She does prefer Aberforth's company (although they absolutely disagree on the best brand of Firewhisky - Dorcas will not tolerate anything except Ogden's Old). The Hog's Head is her favourite place in Hogsmeade - she likes to talk to the hog's head on the wall, which enjoys a good sip of Butterbeer every now and again.

She's not exactly a well-known historian, but by the time Voldemort shows up, she's definitely a prominent figure in the wizarding community, despite having disappeared for a decade or so following Grindelwald's defeat. She never really felt the need to start a family of her own, but she does quite enjoy being an aunt figure, and she definitely brought Violetta Black's kids HEAPS of weird souvenirs from her work.

Speaking of Violetta's kids, after her son Marius Black is disowned at the ripe old age of eleven for being a Squib, Dorcas ends up taking him. Does she have any idea what to do with an eleven year old boy? No. Is she going to take him to Aberforth and work out a plan? Yes, absolutely. Aberforth's solution is blankets and a good warm mug of Butterbeer (Dorcas would not let an eleven year old near Firewhisky). Eventually, they find a place at a good Muggle boarding school for Marius, and off he goes. Dorcas does not speak to Violetta after that day.

She's also Barty Crouch Jr's godmother, because she's worked with his mother for years. This is a responsibility she takes very seriously, especially given Mrs Crouch's kind of poor health. Dorcas probably helps out a lot towards those twelve O.W.L.s - being around complex magical theory books and strange artefacts and obscure potion recipes from a young age tends to give you an edge in a good few O.W.L. subjects. She also has no idea he's a Death Eater until the last hour of her life, when he turns her location over to Voldemort.