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t-o-m-hollands · 4 years ago

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Summery: Tom is part of the Firm, a fearless London gang. You are at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Pairing: Tom and y/n.

Word count: 3k

Themes: Mob!Tom, Peaky Blinders inspired, period piece – this is set in 1961, London.

Warnings: This story will contain themes such as kidnapping, murder, violence and smut. Also a lot of swearing. Also descriptions of injuries. Also alcohol, smoking and mentions of drugs. this is a +18 story

A/N: This is a relationship that I wouldn’t recommend in real life. Also, the Firm was the name of the Kray twins gang. I was just too lazy to come up with a name of my own.

READ PART I HERE

READ PART II HERE

1961, London.

Years later, when you look back on that night, it doesn’t seem real to you. Your memories like snap shots in a photo album. Just still pictures in your mind of the night that would change the course of your life forever.

Sherry holding court, arms waving animatedly as she tells her guests a funny story. Flash. Mark’s sullen face, uninterested and dull. Flash. Sherry’s wide and panic-stricken eyes as you heard the gunshots. Flash. Tom’s back, aiming his weapon at Mark. Flash. Sherry bloody body on the floor, forever wide eyed. Flash. Your bloodstained hands as you try to save her. Flash.

Tom’s hand reaching out for yours.

His hand had felt surprisingly real in yours. Warm and firm and calloused. When he pulled you up to your feet it felt a lot like being dragged back into reality.

(Once as a child your father had taken you ice skating. Further out on the lake the ice had broken, and a girl had fallen through. Down beneath the surface she went; into the icy cold water. She would have died, had not one of her friends successfully managed to pull her up to the surface again.

A part of you wonders if this is what she had felt like then. Icy cold to the bone and struggling for air; feeling as though the ground itself has broken underneath you.)

But Tom wasn’t your friend. In fact, you had just seen him murder a man in cold blood. You could read no signs of remorse or guilt in his face. You knew then, that this was not the first time he had taken a life. It likely wouldn’t be his last either.

He’d dragged you back to his car and you’d followed him obediently. It never occurred to you to fight him, there was no point. Not only had you seen him fight boys much bigger than himself on the school yard, but he also had a gun. So, you moved after him, feeling numb all over. Thoughts moving slowly in your head, like your head was full of cotton, and your body seemed to move almost of its own accord. He guided you into the passenger seat of a beat up car, before he got into the driver's seat and then you left East Ham behind you.

Now here you are, captive in a dingy apartment in Mile End; with fading wallpaper and windows so dirty you can hardly see the view outside it.

It’s filthy.

With gentle hands he’d lead you to the bathroom where he sits you down. With a wet cloth he washes you clean of blood. Squatting in front of you his hands swipe and scrub until you’re free of red stains, though there is nothing to be done about your pink silk dress.

There is something so tender in the way he touch you, his face so close to yours, a look of deep concentration on his face. You feel like a wounded and frightened deer as he cleans with great care; as if he’s scared you’ll fall apart at the seams. Any moment now

A funny unwanted thought strikes you then; if you’re the dear, is he the huntsman?

After you’re clean he leads you out to the living room and he ties you up in a chair and asks you if you are comfortable. There’s shame in his voice and all you can do is stare back at him.

“Are you in pain?” he asks instead.

That paused you to think. There is nothing physically wrong with you; no cuts or bruises or broken bones. But numbness was evaporating, and panic started to rise like bile in your throat.

“No” you answer at last.

He searches your face for a sign of lying. Content that you’re telling the truth he takes a few steps away from you, turns his back to you, drags a hand through his hair.

“Look, I don’t want to do this but until I have figured out what to do next you’ll have to stay here, alright?”

No, you want to say. No of course that’s not alright, let me go!

But you’re cleverer than that. Antagonising him is not the way to get out of this alive. You must stay calm, keep your feelings under control. Even more difficult than that; you must make sure that Tom stays calm too.

He’s sat down on the threadbare sofa, head in his hands, lost in thought.

And here is where it can all go wrong. If his thoughts move in the direction that he must get rid of you the easy way, you’re done for. However, if you can steer his mind to a trail where you make it out alive then maybe then you have a chance of survival.

***

“Why did you kill Mark Randall?”

Outside he can hear people laughing, drunks singing and people fighting. From the apartment next door, he can hear a couple’s argument loud and clear.

Yet your voice, quiet and gentle as it may be, shakes him like the sound of a gun. There’s something so matter of fact in the way you ask the question and Tom almost wants to laugh. Because here you are, tied up to a chair in his apartment, wearing a blood-splattered pink silk dress; having just witnessed the killings of two people, one of whom was your friend. Yet, you’re as calm as can be. Voice even and soft and your head held high.

And here he is, and his hands are shaking, and he can feel the panic rising like bile in his throat.

He looks away from you. To look straight at you feels too much like staring straight into the sun and it burns his eyes to see you like this. It feels surreal. Part from the blood you look like a fucking lady, and the contrast to his dirty apartment; a place he avoids most of the time, is bizarre.

“Mark hadn’t needed to die if he’d just listened and come with me,” he says eventually.

“You didn’t want to kill him?” You ask, and Tom sighs. He needs to remain in charge of himself, in charge of the situation. He needs to remember his training.

Remember who he is, and what he’s capable of.

So, he stands up and walks over to you, with his hands in his pockets and with a put-on air of nonchalance.

“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, princess. Especially not shoot them like that. Hasn’t stopped me though” he says and looks you in the eye. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, because they’re necessary.”

There’s a warning in his words, you both know it.

“You’re awfully calm about all this” he says and kneels in front of you, looking up at your face, close enough he can see every detail in your face. A strange and unwelcomed image flashes before his eyes; of a knight kneeling in front of the queen, awaiting her judgement. But it is not fitting, the dynamic all wrong. You have no power here, and he sure is no knight. He doesn’t know which role he’s set to play in your story but he doubts it’s the hero.

“You’d prefer it if I screamed?” you ask, and he’s impressed, because your voice doesn’t waver. It’s sounds gentle and steady still. But he sees it in your face. There’s fear in your eyes, buried deep. There’s a gleam of sweat over your forehead, and he’d bet more than this apartment that your heartbeat is beating like a drum right now.

“God no” he huffs, “just wondering what you're thinking”. He can’t seem to look away from your face and warning words from half a lifetime ago about not looking straight into the sun comes back to him. Warnings that it will blind you.

“Well, I’ll have to admit, I’m a bit curious about a few things”

“Such as?”

“What did you want with someone like Mark Randall?”

Tom is taken aback at that, it was not a question he had expected. “He hurt one of my friends,” he says, after some hesitation.

“So you wanted to hurt him back?”

“No,” he says. “I just needed some information from him.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. Letting you be a witness to a murder is bad enough. Now he’s sharing strictly confidential information with someone outside the Firm. But talking with you delays the moment where he must leave you and tell Fabien about what happened tonight.

“I knew Mark, he was not clever nor resourceful. I doubt it very much if he’d have any information to give you.”

He doesn’t know why you’re doing this, but your calmly delivered questions clears his head. He follows your path, like a light in the fog, guiding the way. “You’re right, but he wasn’t working on his own initiative. He might have had information on his people”

“You think he’d part with that information?”

“I’d make him”.

You go silent for a moment, and he wonders just how scared you are of him right then. He’s still kneeled in front of you, looking up at you, at the eyes he’s admired since he first saw you in school, a million years ago. You blink, and he’s reminded of the fluttering wings of a butterfly.

“How was your friend attacked?” you ask, and your choice of question surprises him again.

“Mark shot him in the arm, though the fucker aimed to kill”

“Were you with him?” You blink again, another fluttering pair of wings, and Tom wonders if this is what it’s like to be hypnotized.

“No,” he answers, “no he was on his way to meet me, but Mark was waiting for him and attacked”.

“And how did Mark know your friend was supposed to be there, at that moment?”

Your question is asked in such a low and gentle voice, and the full meaning of it doesn’t strike him at first,

But then,

“I, I don’t know” he confesses, and the realization startles him.

The telephone rings. Loudly it screeches from it’s table and Tom feels like he wakes from a trance. He pulls himself away from you slowly to answer it.

“Yeah?” he says, keeping his eye on you as he speaks into the receiver.

“Fabien wants a report” Harry tells him.

“On my way” Tom answers, “but Harry?”

“What?”

“You and Sam need to get to Mark Randall’s apartment. There’s two bodies to take care of.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Why didn’t you take care of it immediately?” his brother asks at last.

“Was called away, alright?” and before Harry can protest he snaps “Just fucking do it, yeah?” and he hangs up.

Silence fills the apartment, though the street outside continues to roar in drunken songs and fighting cries.

“I have to go now,” he says, staring down on the telephone, suddenly unable to look at you.

“What will they do to me once they realize there’s a witness?” you ask, and the question Tom thought would come before all others is asked at last. Truth is he should have gotten rid of you right then and there in East Ham. He shouldn’t have let a witness live. It was sloppy and just the kind of sentimental bullshit that would end him in a prison cell one day.

Truth is Fabien will make him kill you himself, probably in the most brutal fashion he can think of, just to make Tom prove that he hasn’t gone soft. That there’s no sentimentality left in him.

He couldn’t let you go either. Didn’t trust you wouldn’t run straight home to your daddy and tell him everything. It didn't help that you knew Tom in school, knew his full name and would have no problem pointing him out in a line-up. Then he’d end up in prison, or dead, and Fabien would go after you in ways Tom didn’t even dare imagine. Just the thought of what the man is capable of makes him shiver.

“I have to go now” he repeats, ignoring your question. “There’s no use in screaming while I’m away. This is not a friendly neighborhood. They won’t come to your rescue.”

But before he steps out the door he stops in his tracks.

“You know, you helped me once,” he says, remembering that time you’d protected him from Jamie.

“And this is how you repay me?” You’re still so fucking calm, even though you both know you’re done for and Tom’s heart beat uncomfortably hard in his chest.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he says, eventually.

You smile, and it is gentle though it is without humour. “For how long though, Tommy?”

***

Tom sits in Fabien’s office, a glass of amber-coloured whiskey in his hand and your voice ringing in his ears. ‘And how did Mark know your friend was supposed to be there?’

He had thought about it the entire drive to Fabien's house. The only solution was this. Someone had told them. Someone had told Jack and his men that Harrison would be walking that street at that time on that night. And the only people who knew about it were the men in the Firm.

He airs his suspicions to his leader.

Fabien hums, and inhales from his cigarette. “I see we’ve been thinking along the same lines” he says, blowing out smoke in the air between them. His voice is low and even, his quiet and held back rage evident but controlled. “There’s a traitor in our midst, Tommy.”

He studies Tom’s face, his cat-like eyes shrewd.

“I’m going to find out who’s been ratting on us, and why” he continues, voice smooth like velvet. “And God help the poor bastard once I’ve figured out who it is. However, our only lead was Mark Randall and you tell me you failed to bring him in for questioning and he’s now sinking in the Thames?”

Tom forces himself to keep eye-contact with his superior, resisting the urge to look away from those penetratingly shrewd eyes. “Yes, guv”.

“You failed.” He confirms, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s very unlike you, Tom. I’m disappointed.”

To anyone who didn’t know Fabien they might say the man sounded bored, but Tom knew better. The man was boiling underneath the surface. He didn’t need to shout and threaten to make his anger known, it was like a physical presence in the room. “Very disappointed indeed”.

“It won’t happen again,” Tom promises.

“Oh, it better not. I have big plans for you.” he says, and takes another sip from his drink. “Were there any witnesses?”

“No one left alive” Tom lies, and takes a sip from his own drink.

***

A/N: OH MY GOD this one was difficult to write. I had to rewrite it four times and I’m still not too sure about it. Their dynamic is really difficult but hopefully it’ll be easier in parts to come.

***

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland #mob!tom holland #mob!tom #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem #tom holland x oc #tom holland x y/n

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romcom-s · 5 years ago

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face it, tiger

FACE IT, TIGER - boyfriend!harry

ORIGINAL ASK: anonymous asked: Can I do a request where reader is Tom Holland's ex and they are both starring in Spiderman FFH and they broke up because Tom cheated on her and Harry Styles was her bestfriend and they fall in love together but reader needs to film with Tom and Harry was jealous or overprotective. Something like that. Thank you!

SUMMARY: at the after party of your film - which starred you and your ex tom holland - your boyfriend harry, slightly drunk and slightly sad, spills his guts on why he’s trying to find tom in a room full of people. 2.1k

WARNINGS: swearing

“YOU GONNA SAY hi to Jacob for me, yeah?” Harry asked - for what felt like the millionth time. His hands were firmly placed on your shoulders as he stared into your eyes, the ghost of a smirk on his face. You simply pecked his lips, a simple and quick yet sweet gesture to show that you were his. Because you felt his anxiety. Tom Holland had been your first love - and you’d never not say that. He truly was your first love. He gave you his jumpers and he cooked you food and he kissed your hands. And he also fucked other girls. But now, you were with Harry - and Harry too, gave you his jumpers and cooked you food and kissed your hands. Harry never looked at another girl. He didn’t even do that when you were with Tom.

Your relationship with Harry is something so strong you fear you will never break away from. Being best friends, then ultimately becoming lovers was the best decision in you life. You trusted each other and you cared before you loved - it allowed you to confide in each other and seek advice. Your friendship with Harry allowed you to cry on his shoulder while Tom was at home with another girl; it allowed you to break free from Tom and say bye to him.

And like everything, somehow you find a way back to someone. So when the offer to play a pretty major part in the new Spider-Man film, you couldn’t give it up. Even if it was Tom.

Harry warned you. Though, he was more scared for himself. He didn’t want to lose you at all.

So he’d ask and ask everyday until the premiere. “You sure you don’t want me to go? I can cancel, love, you know that.”

And you’d reply and kiss him everyday to calm him. “It’s your album, darling. Don’t go throwing that away for me.”

When the day of the premiere came, you dressed up in a suit. It was pretty evident you took a lot of inspiration from Harry, having flared bottoms with a lovely floral pattern. You even wore his rose ring (”for good luck” he had whispered before slipping it onto your thumb). You were taking Harry with you even if he was going to be on the other side of the world.

“Love you, you know that,” he mumbled against your skin.

Your giggles filled the air, “I know, I know. Now you’re going to be late to a meeting and you can’t be late again. Third time this time - Jeff’ll kill you.”

He sighed, pulling his lips from your neck. He smiled at you, his forehead resting on yours. “I’m so proud of you, Pet. I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

“Harry, dear, it’s okay. I know what you’re feeling and that’s okay, okay? You’re coming to the after party anyways, so don’t worry.”

Yes, the after party. The thing you feared the most. Harry and Tom had actually been pretty good friends while you were dating. They were civil. They went out by themselves without the push from you; Tom would invite Harry round for tea sometimes with his brothers. But after you found Tom with someone else, and Harry not being able to confront him for months upon months upon months, you feared that Harry had some bottled up anger that might full well come out tonight. You hoped Tom’s brothers would be there, or Haz perhaps, because with them there you’d know that you could stop Tom and Harry if something was to happen. Tom’s brother’s were people you still talked to everyday - they said how sorry they was and how they practically beat Tom up for what he did.

You don’t truly believe that, but you still like hanging around with them.

When it was time for Harry to leave, you kissed him hard on the lips. Yet another gesture to tell and reassure him that you were his. You were all his. He happily kissed you back, edging towards the door. He opened it with a smile. “See you at the party, Sweet.”

“See you then Dear.”

You got to the premiere by yourself after that. Lights flashed and interviews raised their hands to gain their attention, but you were already busy with the fans. Having dated Harry for nearly six months, and for being surrounded by him for nearly 4 years, you had admired Harry’s kindness towards everyone the most. So you took notes. You put your fans first. You asked them their names and hugged them, thanked them all for coming here. Then you went to the interviewers, who asked questions that you really enjoyed answering. Sometimes they’d be the less appropriate questions - those mainly focused on yours and Tom’s relationship - but somehow you managed to treat them with kindness too (though it raged you).

You spotted Zendaya through the corner of your eyes while answering a question about the set. You gave a wave before raising your index finger, indicating you’d only be a minute. So she nodded and started a conversation with someone, allowing you to go back to the interview.

“Lastly, Y/N, so we all know your relationship with Tom. We’re all wondering however, how was it filming close with him? Was it awkward? Are you guys back?”

You gave a warm smile at the man. “That’s many questions, um. Well to start, filming with Tom was perfectly fine. Though it seems hard to not let your relationships interfere while on set it’s pretty easy while filming because you’re so engaged with your character. So it was alright filming with him, not awkward. And to answer your final question, no. We’re not back.” And with that you shake the man’s hand and move along, waving at the fans to approach Zendaya.

You had just lied. Many people knew that. It was extremely awkward to film with Tom. he was a nice man for sure, but his actions seemed to change how you viewed him. Filming with him was possibly the worst thing, though you tried to make it as easy for everyone, you were itching to get as far away from him as possible. Because he hurt you. Yet he didn’t seem to realise that. He’d make snide comments about best friends and dating, always aiming it at you and Harry, to which you’d reply with “well at least I’m fucking one person at a time.”

He’d shut up after that.

You were not afraid to hurt him after what he did. But you had respect for him. That’s why the media don’t know why you broke up and only your close friends do.

The premiere went by quickly after the interviews. Many photographers asked for you and Tom to get a picture together but you simply waved at the fans as if nothing happened. You ended up avoiding him all night, only getting close for him for all cast pictures, which you found your space next to Jacob.

The after party came soon. You decided to not change your suit, not being bothered to change into a dress. So you waited outside for a while for Harry, who looked surprised that you weren’t in the dress you choose.

“Too tired,” you complained, quickly and secretly kissing him on the cheek. The media had caught the two of you a couple of times, but luckily they had done that through the whole 4 years of your friendship. So when you dated Tom, yet hung out with Harry, the media finally realised that girls can have boy friendships with no feelings. Except of course there’s some feelings now.

You entered the party and accepted congratulations from people you didn’t even know. Some people there asked for pictures with Harry, to which he politely declined.

“Your night tonight. Not mine,” he whispered in your ear when you asked.

You spent the first half of your night avoiding that someone, managing to busy Harry with dancing and drinks. But slowly the dancing got boring and the drinks became sour, and Harry started looking around for Tom.

“H,” you half-slurred. Perhaps you were slightly tipsy. Maybe you should be for what’s about to happen. “H, what- baby, can we go home?”

“No, no, Pet.” He shakes away your hand that was rested on his arm. “Gotta find Tom and tell him how much of a dick he is.”

“Not here!” you give out a loud laugh. Okay, maybe a bit more than tipsy. “Baby, why are you so caught up over him?”

“Cause- cause listen, Y/N. . .” Harry was far more drunk than you. And when he got drunk he got loud and bitchy. You was ready for him to either stand up and sing or start an argument with everyone in the room. “That boy hurt you, right. And now- now suddenly ‘cause this film he gets to care about you again.”

“What? No he doesn’t!”

“But he does. He can talk to you and like be near you and everyone’s talking about you and him now and that’s all I fucking see everywhere is you and him and it shouldn’t be you and him it should be you and me. So. . . I need to find him to tell him to fuck off so that I can have you all to myself.”

He was a child under alcohol, rambling and pointing his finger at you and the ceiling and the floor.

He continued, “and Y/N. i’m jealous and- and nervous ‘cause he’s fucking Spider-Man! Spider-Man! And you’re here dating me! I’m just the face of Gucci!”

You snorted at your boyfriend, leaning forward as you laughed. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as you started to hiccup.

“What?”

“H! I prefer the face of Gucci over Spider-Man! Look at you, fucking beautiful and modelling and. . . Spider-Man wears a mask and you’re pretty and-”

You, too, were a child under alcohol. Maybe that’s what made you guys so compatible. Despite being so alike it worked. Because you sat here, at the after party for your movie, arguing over who’s better. The face of Gucci or Spider-Man? You were both downing the drinks - though it left a horrible taste in your mouth and your laughter was louder than anyone else.

“You’re so jealous H! For no reason!”

He leaned towards you more, your faces inches apart. “I do actaully. He’s fucking Spider-Man! He can do anything!”

“Well, Spider-Man isn’t that hot then,” you said, scrunching your nose up. “Compared to the fucking face of Gucci.”

Harry shook his head at you before scanning the area again. Though after you weird yet funny and very much drunk conversation with Harry, you figured that a fight was the most unlikely thing to happen. Yet, you grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him from the bar towards the exit.

“Where we going?”

“Home,” you answered. “It’s boring anyways and I want to be home with you. See, that’s something Spider-Man can’t do. He can’t cuddle with me.”

The two of you rounded a corner to grab a taxi - Harry was on the phone to Gemma, talking to her as if she was an uber. When it was decided that Gemma was to pick you two up, you ended up both leaning against a wall.

“Sorry for being jealous. It’s just that. . . you know. He’s Tom Holland and he can do anything. And you guys loved each other and he got to spend so much time with you even after hurting you. And. . .I’m just scared that because I started off as a friend I’ll end as one too.”

You grinned and turned towards him, using your fingers to guide him to look at you. “Being a friend first, Harry Styles, is the reason that we’re so. . . perfect. We’re best friends and lovers - and that’s the best part. God, I wasn’t able to tease or fuck around with Tom as much as you. And where’s the fun in that?”

“But-”

“There’s no buts, Dear. Though, yeah you don’t save the world nor climb walls and you’re one hundred percent not sticky-” you poke his cheek to prove a point “-you’re still my superhero. You can try save the world and you can try climb walls and try become sticky, and even if you fail you’re still my hero, okay?” And with that you kissed his lips, not even a hint of worry on your face as you lean in. You forgot about the possibility that there could be cameras or fans or articles, but all in that moment was Harry.

Harry nearly melted. “Love you but I’m still very mad.”

“I know, love you too. But face it, Tiger; I’ll always love you ‘cause you’re my Spider-Man, no one else’s.”

“Did you just quote a comic at me?”

You shush him as you kissed his lips again - and as soon as your lips touched his, he happily shut up.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles headcanon #harry styles headcanons #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #harry styles x reader #tom holland x reader

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hazinhoodies · 6 years ago

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Mal en Point (part xi)

Koh!Harrison x Angel!Reader

A/N: i’m going to start reblogging these with my tags on them because they never work when i first post them. here’s a fun lik chapter hope you like it

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.4k

Harry pushed open one of the doors and let you in before entering himself, letting the door shut on its own.

King Harrison was talking with someone, both of their backs to you. You admired both sets of wings. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to pay attention to the detail in them before. Both wide off their backs, though Harrisons drooped slightly more, they were also darker in colour than the other demons, but both were raven. Harrison’s also seemed glossier, they held more of the light in the room which made them seem lighter in colour.

The other demon had longer hair, darker than Toms, he hadn’t pushed it back or styled it at all, instead letting the straight strands sit around his face. The other one spoke, though you couldn’t hear what he was saying, for the most part, he talked with his hands, while Harrison’s- King Harrisons, you supposed you’d have to get used to that- arms remained crossed over his chest as he nodded along, he seemed tense.

“King Harrison” Harry walked up to the centre of the room and you followed.

“What-“ Harrison spat the syllable as he turned around. His eyes were black but turned back into icy blue when he noticed the two of you, his wings straightening at the same time. He looked back at the other demon, saying something to him. The demon nodded in response, glanced at Harry and nodded again, which Harry reciprocated. King Harrison walked over to the two of you, “Harry you may go. How are you feeling, angel?”

“I’m uh” You watched as Harry bowed his head, he smiled at you before leaving with the other demon through the large doors behind you. You didn’t want him to go, you’d only just woken up and he was the only person you’d come to interact with since. You trusted him. Watching him head out the door you hoped he’d turn around to see that you didn’t want him to go. But he didn't.

It was just you and Harrison now, “I’m okay, I suppose” You avoided looking at him, suddenly uncomfortable now that you had the energy to be uncomfortable.

“You suppose?” You could feel Harrison’s gaze resting on you as you nodded slightly, “Well, angel. Let’s go for a walk and we can chat, yes?” You wanted to cut him off. Tell him your actual name. Bombard him with questions. But he was the King of Hell. You were taught to fear him.

You followed a pace behind him in the long halls, taking in the dark walls lined with candelabras, even though light streamed through the windows giving you a glimpse to the outside. It was light out but the ground was dark and sandy, cracking at some parts like the dry deserts you’d heard of on Earth but never visited. King Harrison walked leisurely through the halls, his hands shoved in his pockets but back straight and tall. You remember him telling you about hours that he’d spent working on posture alone as a teen. How his father had said “A King who slouches is no King at all” and he said that he’d never fully understood it.

“Do you have any questions, angel?” Harrison gaze had hardly left you. You’d gotten used to everyone calling you ‘angel’ although you would very much prefer your own name still.

“Only a couple, your highness” You replied sheepishly.

“Well, ask away”

“Why save me? And how long have I been down here? And why the flowers?” The words spill from your lips in a rush, it makes the King smile, a small chuckle slipping from his throat.

“Human time or realm time?” There was a softness in his voice. Something that made it lighter than you’d expect from a demon. It was… comforting.

“Human”

“You arrived here five human weeks ago” His smile faded and he became visibly uncomfortable with whatever was about to follow, the next words were spoken slowly, hesitation in each one, “You were in the basement of the castle for” he inhaled deeply “two human weeks” King Harrison cleared his throat. “And you were sick in your room for three of them” He finished, leaving you to ponder. It’d felt like much longer.

“My room?” You questioned. Your room. In the castle. In Hell.

“Your room, If you choose to stay, of course,” The King continued after giving you a moment to think over what he had said: “The flowers. Lilac coloured hyacinths. They’re apologetic” You nodded along.

“They were one of my mother’s favourite” You whispered. Either King Harrison didn’t hear you, or he didn’t acknowledge it. You continued, “And why did you bother saving me?”

“Ah right that well,” He cleared his throat, removing his hands from his pockets and clasping them behind his back, his eyes fell to his feet, “I’m rather drawn to you, angel. In a way that I can’t begin to explain. It’s not lust, although will not pretend that lust isn’t a portion of it. As you are um…” His confidence faltered, “The dress uh… I’m going to stop digging my own grave” You laughed at his sudden awkwardness and he did as well upon seeing that you had.

“Well, your majesty that’s very kind of you. However, you didn’t need to push off the conversation earlier. I don’t mind waiting, sir” You noticed how he cringed slightly at the formalities. You weren’t sure if he had done that while you were dying. You were too distracted by, well, dying, to notice.

“Actually the conversation was about you. In a way. It had started off about Iezebel, my wife as you know. And then Sam told me how you were doing. Just stuff about your fever and how it may have broken but he wasn’t sure. And then Harry brought you to us, so we no longer were unsure” You nodded. The halls grew silent apart from your steps, you in your own thoughts and the King in his. Both of you went to speak at the same time, you let him go first.

“What’s your name, angel?”

“Y/N,” You noticed how King Harrison’s eyes widened, immediately switching to a slightly furrowed brow before going back to an expression of content. The shift in expressions passed in a fraction of a second.

“Beautiful name. It suits you”

“Thank you, your highness” You paused for a second, allowing him to speak if you’d like to. “You are nothing like the King we learn of in heaven. At least, not from what I’ve seen so far. Pardon me for my assumptions”

“Oh no it’s perfectly alright, Y/N” He hesitates before saying your name, so used to calling you angel that it’s become habitual. “Tell me about the Kings you learn of?” He phrases it as a question.

“They say a lot of things. I’m not sure how much of it is true, granted it’s all were taught and were told to trust it. They say that they’re all terrifying and aggressive and ruthless”

“Some are” King Harrison chimed in, you acknowledged it with a nod but continued on.

“They always said that demons are nothing but bad. Not an ounce of good in them but not even angels are entirely good. Not a single angel has never done anything bad. So why would a demon be anything but?” You finish your small ramble and look up at the King as he goes to speak.

“There are demons like that. Ones that think with nothing but dark thoughts. My father was like that. Tom-” he swallows, “Tom is like that. Though he wasn’t always. He wanted to kill you as soon as you got here and I refused. When we were younger-” King Harrison cuts himself off. He seems as though he wants to continue, but doesn’t “That’s a story for another day” he says.

“And you? What are you like?” you ask after a moment of silence. Curiosity was ever growing in your mind.

It was a much more loaded question than you had intended it to be. That’s years- centuries- of insecurity and shame. Harrison knows it’s too much to unload on his first day of knowing you. Sure, he’s talked to you much before but this was the first time that he could really know about you. The first time talking with you rather than at you. He didn’t want to screw it up. Didn’t want to mess with the weird feeling in his stomach that he had. He knew it was good.

“Also a story that must wait. One day you’ll know” Harrison wasn’t even sure that he knew.

#mepseries #harrison osterfield #koh!haz #koh!harrison #angel!reader #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield ff #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield fic #haz osterfield ff #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield x you #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield series #haz osterfield

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celtics534 · 5 years ago

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I Don’t Care

Written for the SIYE “First Time” Challenge. Inspired by I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber. A muggle AU where Harry and Ginny have never met.

Read on: FF.net, AO3, and SIYE

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“Come on, mate!” Seamus yelled over the chest-pounding music. “Stop being such a spanner.”

Harry glared at his Irish friend. “I told you I would come with you, not that I would enjoy myself.”

“But sitting in a corner is so --” Seamus made an obscure gesture with his hands.

“So ‘ Harry ’?” Harry supplied, giving his friend a sideways smile. He still couldn’t understand why Seamus had begged him to go to this damn party. Not once had Harry expressed any interest in going to a house party hosted by Dean (Seamus’ old school mate). Harry hated loud noises and really wasn’t that fond of people, which was why he always let Seamus lead any interviews they conducted during investigations.

Seamus just laughed, thumping Harry’s shoulder with his wide hand. “That’s right.” Across the room, a chant started as Dean chugged down his pint. Without a second glance at Harry, Seamus was gone, joining in the shout.

Harry felt himself relax. This was what he preferred when forced to be at a party -- being able to keep to himself. It wasn’t that he hated everyone... no, he just didn’t fit in with any of these people. He’d rather nurse his drink, hope that Seamus forgot he was here, and try to sneak out the back door rather than go anywhere near what they were calling a dance floor .

“Ah, I found my fellow party hater.” A voice spoke somewhere to his left. Harry turned to see an incredibly attractive redhead. He’d always had a thing for redheads, but this woman -- If Harry had been a cartoon character, his jaw would be on the floor.

The woman smiled at him, and even in the horrible blue and green lighting, Harry could see an adorable dimple near a cluster of freckles.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, gesturing to the empty armchair beside him.

“Uh --” Harry mentally slapped himself. “Yeah, of course.”

The redhead sat down, taking a minute to settle herself before leaning forward and holding out her hand. “I’m Ginny.”

Harry shook it, surprised by the strong grip and calluses. “Harry.”

Ginny’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Harry, like Harry Potter?”

Here we go , Harry internally groaned. People always looked at him differently once they knew his name. The fact that his parents had died taking down Britain's most notorious serial killer since Jack the Ripper was not something he wanted to be known for. Everyone knew about the son of Lily and James Potter, who had been left an orphan because of Tom Riddle.

“You and Ron had that midnight duel with Malfoy.” Ginny laughed. “Ron came home during the winter holidays and told me that story!”

It took Harry a moment to realize what she’d said. “That stor -- yeah!” Harry felt his lips curve into a smile for the first time that night. “Yeah. It was great. We had fake swords that Ron threw aside to punch Malfoy in the nose. But how do you --” It was like a lightbulb went off as he connected the dots. “Ginny Weasley...as in Ron’s little sister?”

“Not my preferred title.” Ginny let out a little laugh. “But it’s true. Ron is my older brother.”

Harry had heard stories about Ron’s annoying little sister for years. She and her brother, Percy, had been accepted into a prestigious independent school while Ron the rest of the Weasley brothers had been in the same district as Harry. But surely this couldn’t be the “pain in the arse” sister. She seemed too…

“I feel like I already know you.” Ginny took a sip from her glass. “Between Ron and the twins. You’re famous!”

After only an hour of conversation, Harry felt Ginny was the most incredible person in the world. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also kind, considerate, and funny.

As the night turned into the early morning, Harry was unable to look away from her lips as she told amazing stories, wanting nothing more than to kiss them. He was never like this. When it came to women, he tended to admire from afar until he plucked up the nerve to give it a go and pitifully flirt with them. He was awkward on a good day, especially when it came to a beautiful woman.

With Ginny, he was still awkward... but there were none of his normal flustered ramblings. He was talking with her smoothly, which in his book was close to a miracle. Because with a girl like Ginny Weasley, he should be on the floor in a floundering puddle. But Ginny… she was just so real . No one else in this damn house felt like that. Hell, he could count the number of people who felt like this on one hand.

"So, what did you do?" Harry had his face close to Ginny's under the pretense of hearing her, but really he was just enjoying what he assumed was her perfume. It was some sort of flower that he couldn't name, but God, it was one of the best things he'd ever smelled.

Ginny grinned as she shrugged nonchalantly. "I had to jump."

"So you just jumped off a cliff? Not even knowing how deep the water was?"

"It was that or be known as the team chicken."

Harry shook his head, his smile reflecting hers. "And you couldn’t have that."

“That’s right.” Ginny laughed. “I knew they wouldn’t kill their new star striker.” She shrugged with a proud smirk on her lips.

“I would love to give cliff diving a go,” Harry mused, taking a swig from his bottle.

Ginny gave him an appraising look. “I could take you, see if you’ve got the bollocks to jump.”

“There are other ways for you to check that.” The words were out of Harry’s mouth before his brain could form a roadblock. “I -- I mean.” He started to splutter, something he’d impressively avoided up to that point. Fuck, that is not something you say to a mate’s sister, Harry!

Instead of dumping her drink over his head, though, Ginny gave him a coy smile. “I’d be more than happy to conduct multiple tests, if you’re up for it.”

Harry’s brain short-circuited. He had no idea what was happening or where to go from there. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t seem to get his body to listen to any instructions.

Ginny laughed.“But there are some first steps that need to be completed before we can test out my hypothesis.”

“Which,” Harry cleared his throat, “Which steps are these?”

“Oh, you know.” Ginny shrugged. “Dinner one night. Movie another. I’m not the kind of girl who skips the basics.”

“Dinner.” Harry let the word roll his tongue as if it was the first time he’d ever said it. “Dinner. Yeah -- um -- are you free tomorrow night?”

Ginny beamed at him. “Now I’m not.”

Harry honestly couldn’t believe his own luck. Here was an incredible woman who wanted to go out with him, and not just for his name. “Great. I can pick you up at seven?”

“Seven sounds perfect.” Ginny pointed to his phone that had been sitting in front of him on the coffee table. “Can you unlock that?”

He did as he was told. Once the home page glared brightly at him, Ginny took the phone and started clicking buttons. After a minute she handed it back to him, with the screen displaying her contact information.

“Now.” She grabbed his beer and downed the remaining drink. “Shall we dance?”

Harry’s brain was still lost in another universe (which might have explained his answer), but he managed to say, “Hell yes!”

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“I don’t care.” Seamus laughed, taking another large gulp from his cup. “Emma Watson is fit as fuck. And that’s just what I’d want to do if I’d meet her. She'd be the best shag of my life.”

Harry snorted, which he could barely hear over the deafening music blaring throughout Dean’s house. Somehow, Seamus had convinced Harry to come to another party. It was all a blur in his mind how he agreed, but his girlfriend had said she would come too. Inexplicably, knowing Ginny was coming made everything better for Harry. Just the thought of Ginny coming to his rescue lessened the knots of anxiety in his stomach.

Before Harry could give his mates a cheeky response, arms wrapped around his shoulders and warm breath surrounded his left ear. “Hello, luv.”

Harry twisted his neck to find himself enveloped in red hair. “Hello, Gin.”

Ginny pressed a kiss to his lips. “Come with me to get a drink?”

Without hesitation, Harry stood up. Seamus made a pointed gesture. “There he goes, lads! Leaving us to be with a bird.”

Harry grinned at his mates. “She’s my own Emma Watson, can you blame me?”

“She’s the best shag of your life?” Seamus asked with glee. Ron, however, groaned.

“I don’t want to know, Harry.” Ron pointed his bottle at Harry. “I’m fine with you dating my sister, but I don’t want to know anything.”

Harry didn’t speak, he just winked at Seamus who laughed and waved him away. “Don’t keep her waiting then!”

It took Harry a moment to make it through the crowd. His eyes were hyper-focused on Ginny’s long red hair. Finally, he reached her. She was pouring punch into a plastic cup. Harry bound his arms around her waist, letting his lips fall onto her neck.

Ginny tilted her head, allowing him better access. “If you keep this up, we won’t stay for our agreed hour.”

Harry smiled into her skin. The previous night, while laying in his bed after an hour of not talking, Harry had complained about being stuck at parties for too long. Ginny had laughed and said they would only stick around for a few hours. Harry had then used some of his individualized negotiation tactics he saved only for her. In the end, he was able to shave three hours from their allotted party time and was able to have another hour of silence.

“Works by me.” Harry ran his tongue over a small cluster of freckles by her ear.

Ginny’s breath hitched. “I’d hate to leave without saying hello to everyone” She put her freshly filled cup down on the table and twisted in his arms. Her mouth connected with his, and just like that, the loud music and people faded into nothing. The only thing that mattered was the way her fingers played with his messy waves and how her tongue worked with his.

“Then again.” Ginny pulled back, a coy smile on her slightly swollen lips. “I could make rounds and be ready to leave in fifteen.”

Harry kissed her again. He couldn’t believe that only a year ago she’d found him skulking in the corner of this very room, hating everything and everyone. She made him feel like he could deal with anything, all of the crowds, any bad nights that happened.

Harry shifted his attention from her mouth, up her jaw, stopping beside that cluster of freckles again. “Shall we dance, first?”

Ginny let out a low laugh.”Hell yeah.”

#hinny #hinny fanfic #hinny fic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry X ginny #harry potter fan fiction

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mister-tom-a-dildo-lover · 6 years ago

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Strive Pt. 20

{PART 1} {PART 2} {PART 3} {PART 4} {PART 5} {PART 6} {PART 7} {PART 8} {PART 9} {PART 10} {PART 11} {PART 12} {PART 13} {PART 14} {PART 15} {PART 16} {PART 17} {PART 18} {PART 19}

Pair: Tomarry

Rating: M-E(depends)

Tags: Mild Language, Homosexuality, Sexism, Obsessed Tom, Time-Travel/Dimension-Travel, Teacher/Student, Eventual Romance, Teacher-Harry, Grey!Harry, MoD(sort of), Death!being,

A/N: I forgot to add the Tumblr version of this chapter months back!

The very first day where he was no longer a Hogwarts student, Tom found himself perusing the library's Restricted Section. As he was now free to come and go as he pleased since he was legally an adult as well as a new member of the staff, he decided to get in as much study time as he could while he had the chance. And that meant research.

There was a limit to how many books he could remove from the Restricted Section at once though. And that was one. A single book was allowed to leave through one person at a time no matter who it was, just as a precaution. It was definitely a bit of a setback but Tom was just grateful to even be able to get to the books in the first place without someone interfering, so he wouldn't dare complain to anyone about it or they might think him too immature to handle the responsibility and may ban him. Also it would no doubt have Potter angry and Tom didn't want that.

He had full use of any of the school owls and he got a first hand look at who was caring for them. Hagrid. The boy was being groomed to be the perfect groundskeeper and often times, Tom would see him thumping along behind Dumbledore as they went on walks of the grounds. Tom made sure to avoid those places once he memorised their schedule well enough. While not necessarily feeling hatred toward the boy, he was angry at Dumbledore's insistence upon pampering him and favouring his precious Gryffindors all the damn time.

Dumbledore didn't seem to have a life outside of Hogwarts which was exceedingly annoying. He was always around even when he shouldn't be. Others like Slughorn, had homes to get to and living family to spend time with. And friends to see whenever they wanted. Apparently, the great Dumbledore had none of that save for a brother who lived in Hogsmeade and didn't like him all too much, which Tom found to be amusing, and a couple men here and there who rarely visited the school.

The paragon of Light and goodness wasn't even liked by his own family and could count his number of friends on one hand. Now if only Tom knew the reasons behind such things, then he'd be able to use the information to his advantage.

Being able to stay at Hogwarts also meant that he was free to go to Hogsmeade whenever he so chose, and found himself travelling down now and then either for the scenery, for a stroll around the bookshop, or for a Butterbeer because even Tom had to admit that they were delicious. And without the stress of having to posture for his fellow Slytherins, he felt more calm.

His absolute favourite thing however, was whenever he and Harry - he'd given Tom permission to call him by name since they'd officially be coworkers come September! - sat down for tea. And tea was never just tea. It was talking. Either about Defence, Grindelwald's War, World War 2, or their different opinions on controversial topics.

Harry also felt that the wizarding war was ridiculous. He held absolutely no respect for Gellert Grindelwald and explained exactly why.

The symbol the man used was that of the Deathly Hallows. The items belonging to The Necromancers Three. A myth told that Death had gifted the very objects to the brothers when they'd cleverly evaded a gruesome death at the being's hands. The one to gather all objects was supposed to become immortal and the Master of Death or so the legend proclaimed.

Grindelwald had perverted a simple story from Britain's roots. He used the symbol of the Deathly Hallows to spread fear and hatred across the European Continent. Enough for people to misunderstand what it originally was meant to mean. And while he was slowly trying to take over, he was also searching for something precious to him.

The odd attacks and the strange behaviour he'd been exhibiting for several months now, was finally explained.

According to Harry, the man was searching for the most powerful wand in existence. He truly believed it existed and was murdering people left, right, and center just to get his hands on it. And he wanted the Elder Wand as much as he wanted the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak. He wanted immortality and was causing a ridiculous amount of strife just to get it.

Tom's method had been better if he was to be so bold as to claim. The ritual had hurt of course, but it had been quick and easy enough to perform both times he'd done it. No unnecessary bloodshed involved. No more exertion than a flick of the wrist and the drawing of Runes.

But Gellert had blinded himself by his own greed. Yet he also proved how selfish he was. As Tom had noted months before, he wasn't doing this to help the wizarding world. Grindelwald wanted to rule over everyone. He wanted them all to bow down, magicals and muggles alike. And that was why Tom thought his idea was stupid.

He was also incredibly bitter over his hand in Hitler rising to power because the man and his following had put Tom through some hell as a child and he hated them all!

Tom couldn't wait for Harry to just finish Grindelwald off for good. He was waiting for it, but knew he had to be patient if he wanted to win that bet he'd participated in.

But slipping the idea into their conversations was easy enough. Especially since Harry was already angry at the Dark Lord's actions. It would take one truly terrible thing to make him go after Grindelwald personally.

Other things they talked about were magical creatures. Harry was very adamant that they deserved rights, especially those with a level of sentience. He had read the recently published Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newton Scamander, and found himself siding with the magizoologist on many things. He then happily explained some of his experiences with magical creatures.

House Elves, Dragons, Gnomes, Thestrals, Basilisks, Cornish Pixies, Dementors, Boggarts, Acromantulas, Merfolk, Grindylows, Demiguises, Phoenixes, and so much more. He'd come to understand them and felt that just because each could be dangerous, didn't mean they deserved to be killed off and sold for potions ingredients. That just because some were considered Dark, didn't mean they were evil and must be eradicated.

The man was a firmly Grey wizard and Tom had to be honest when he said that he'd met no one as split down the middle as Potter.

The only thing that annoyed him about his stay at Hogwarts, was Dumbledore's presence. Everything else was perfection!

Tom stared down at the stationary in his hand. It was a light shade of blue and the script was golden and glittering. He didn't read too much into that for his own sanity.

It was an invitation to dinner. With the Potters. Charmont and Ella Potter to be precise. And the invitation had been given to him by Harry, who had been lightly flushed as he handed it over while saying, "Ellie wanted me to give you her letter. She said you needed some new correspondence."

Lady Potter wanted Tom to come to a dinner she and her husband were having. A dinner that was, according to her letter, just between them and Harry, and Tom if he decided to come.

And the difference between being invited to a Potter's home, verses being invited to a Malfoy's home, was that the Malfoys had a negative agenda no matter what. Ella Potter actually seemed like a decent person and while she had been a Slytherin in her youth, she'd willingly married a Gryffindor and let him mellow her out.

Also, while she certainly had an agenda as well, it most likely had to do with her attempts to match Tom and Harry together. So such an agenda worked to his benefit and wasn't being done with malicious intent. She wasn't planning on using him later, he was certain. And he couldn't find it in himself to believe that Charmont Potter had a manipulative bone in his body. The man had a reputation for being generous and a bit naive.

So with all of this in mind, Tom decided to put his quill to the parchment and write out his acceptance of their hospitality. This could also be a chance for him to learn more about Professor Potter and it would be foolish to pass it up. This would give Tom the upper hand over everyone else and establish a more secure connection between he and the man he most admired.

And because Tom coveted attention and information and things others didn't know because they would put him above them, nothing would pass from his lips to his followers. They didn't deserve the privilege of knowing Harry Potter like Tom would. Tom liked to keep his most treasured possessions close and any knowledge about Harry Potter was to be kept unlock and key in his own, impenetrable mind.

He was welcomed with wide smiles from the Potters and a shocked look from his… coworker. Harry obviously hadn't known he would show up, and Tom was thrilled to be a surprise.

The man was also attired in the most fanciful robes Tom had ever seen on him. Potter didn't often resort to magical clothing, preferring more freedom of movement in the newer, more modern clothes being introduced through various trade agreements with other nations. He was most likely dressed so well for the Heads of his House.

"It's so lovely to see you, Mr. Riddle," Ella said with a smile. "I've been dying to pick your brain over certain topics. This is my husband, Charmont."

Charmont was a messy-haired brunet with blue/green eyes, a sharp jaw, and a charming smile ironically. He was the same height as Tom at 186 cm, and came across as a kind individual upon first glance.

"Good to know you," the man said with a calm smile. "My Ella has had many a thing to say about your first meeting. I do hope you and our Harry get on well enough, yes?"

Tom plastered a not so fake smile on his face, genuinely pleased to speak about his former professor. "Harry is a diamond in the rough, sir."

Said man sputtered, his face taking on a lovely shade of pink.

"Come! Come! Dinner is being served as we speak and I want to get all the details from Mr. Riddle!" prompted Ella, shooing them toward one of the many open rooms off to the right of the grand, marble foyer of Potter Manor.

Dinner was a lavish affair. Not as pompous as something a Malfoy would host, thank Merlin, but still proper as expected of a Pureblood family. Though there were no veiled insults being thrown around and no one seemed to be trying to outdo another.

Tom had been asked every possible question under the sun, and occasionally Harry would be called into the conversation to give his input on certain topics. Ella seemed endlessly fascinated by whatever Tom responded with, and constantly sent Harry knowing looks that he seemed to pointedly ignore in favour of his wine. And he ended up drinking a lot of wine as a result.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle is such a unique name," said Charmont at some point near dessert. "It makes you sound mysterious and I find it to be fitting."

His smile became a little more forced. "The other children in the orphanage mocked me for it. Marvolo isn't a muggle name and they said it only made me weirder. I have come to dislike my name. Tom is bland, Marvolo is too strange, and Riddle sounds very..." He couldn't even finish his thought. He hated being connected to that piece of filth.

Ella smiled with understanding. "I know all about hating your given name, Tom. My true name is Avariella and I despise it. Sure, it means 'woman of great strength' but it sounds atrocious to my ear. Thankfully, Charmont was very understanding and adopted my nickname easily," the woman said, aiming a dazzling smile at her husband who smiled back with just as much affection.

"I like both of your names," Harry interjected quickly, pouting. "Names that make you think twice. Interesting sounding in my opinion. A sense of strength to them."

Ella beamed and Tom flushed lightly, looking away from the man's imploring, green eyes. Harry Potter had this odd affect on him and it wasn't fair!

"I apologise for my aunt's curiosity this evening. Ella tends to like to talk and she takes issue with not knowing enough of anything," Potter said with a small but mischievous smile that made Tom's heart flutter abnormally in his chest. "She means well."

"She is good company," Tom decided to say. "I like her." He was shocked at how true it was. The woman had been very interesting to speak with and she was very sly as she managed to drag Harry into the conversation by somehow finding a similarity between he and Tom for her to comment on.

Tom had learned that his former professor loved green. That he once Apparated when he was a child. That he could regrow his hair immediately if it was ever cut too short. And sometimes he would change his teacher's appearance whenever they annoyed him. Such as turning someone's hair blue for criticising how he did his homework.

During his childhood, Tom had done similar things, and it had been refreshing to hear that Potter was very much the same. Tom used to hate it when anybody did the exact same thing as him. He had always had the desire to be unique. Finding out about magic had been in both parts amazing and terrible because it meant he wasn't the only one and he wasn't as special as he thought he was.

This kind of attitude followed him well up until this point in his life. He liked being able to do things others couldn't. He liked knowing things others never would, or would have to rely on him into order to learn. And yet when he found out that him and the man he admired most were a lot similar than at first glance, it made him feel... dare he say, tingly inside.

He'd somehow gotten an invitation to return to Potter Manor in the future for their small celebration for Harry's birthday which was coming up on the thirty-first of July. Exactly six months away form Tom's birthday.

He had to think about the gift he should get the man. Potter had given him Slytheirn's Locket for his birthday. He'd found one of the only things remaining from Tom's family's history and had returned it to him instead of keeping the priceless artifact for himself. Not many people would ever do such a thing. How could Tom possibly top that?

Harry liked Quidditch, so a broom would probably work. At the same time he was a Potter and they had money. Anything Tom got him could be easily acquired on his own if he didn't already have it. Tom had to be unique.

A/N: Making up for forgetting to post this on Tumblr before uploading it on AO3 and FFN back in August.

#Strive #Tomarry #Fanfiction #Watermelonsmellinfellon #this is done for recording purposes should something happen to the AO3 version

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licnbcrn · 6 years ago

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Headcanon: Relationship: Severus

So, I saw this quote on here that I was going to reblog, but I was reading it, and it prompted some sort of high headcanon and realization about Lily’s relationship with Severus Snape.

The quote was:

“There is no hate born such as that born out of love betrayed -- and my brain screamed out for revenge.” - V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic

And, like, no one has ever asked me about my headcanons for Sev, A.K.A her best fucking friend. He was her brother -- like, .once he finally came up to her, once he finally showed her she wasn’t alone? Endgame. She spent every moment she could with him and told him everything. And he told her -- she knew what his home life was like, knew about his childlike hopes and dreams were. She knew he preferred ice pops over ice cream, and every summer in Cokeworth, she would make sure her mum kept the refrigerator stocked full of them. And if things ever got scary with his dad? He could always come get her and she’d sneak out and stay all night out with him.

She would have, at one point, died for him. At least, in the concept that children think of it. Children don’t really have a concept of anything, and as they are exposed to more and more stimuli. That’s the whole process of growing-up, of being able to process more emotions and information and formulate actual opinions on things. So, she and Severus are super close until they enter Hogwarts.

So, here they are, having entirely different experiences in school. They’re in different houses, different sides of the castle, don’t have the exact same class schedule, etc. They start making other friends, and see each other during the classes they do have in common (potions, history of magic, and defense against the dark arts) and on weekends. Starting in her third year, the only elective she takes is care of magical creatures, which severus does as well. The dueling club is started up by the headboy and headgirl as well as the current DADA professor (Lily eventually becomes captain of this in her 6th year ) and that is always on sunday mornings) She also makes the Quidditch team third year as a seeker (james made the quidditch team the year before, surprising everyone because he wasn’t even 13), and so she has early morning practices, and practice after her care of magical creatures class. I’d imagine Severus never really went to Quidditch after the first few games, as he would be alone in the Gryffindor section (house rivalries and it didn’t seem like he had a ton of actual friends outside slytherin house.) but, they always had holidays off together and they were still close --- outside of school

Point is, her schedule gets busy. They spend more and more time apart, they develop different relationships (and yes, I’m a firm believer that lily & james were friends as well, and this became more of a break between the) and perhaps more to my character, lily starts realizing there’s a war going on that’s been going on for years (i imagine things had been brewing for a long time)

Sure, she’d been exposed to the word “mudblood” before, she had been openly called it, and had stood up against the slurs and and helped younger students But the war was something that she only read about sometimes in the Daily Prophet. It wasn’t something she understood. It’s third year the first time kids at school started disappearing. Some, went into hiding, others? Others died. A tiny hufflepuff in her herbology class, dione fawcett, and her whole family were murdered. Suddenly, those whispers started getting more frequent, she was quick to defend those younger than her, those who were quieter (including severus from james -- but she recognized that severus gave as good as he got ). She started getting in more fights, both duels and fist fights.

In her 4th year, she got into a fight with the wrong people.i will write a headcanon about it some other time, but it’s pretty graphic what happened. So, not for now.

So, this war starts affecting her greatly. Suddenly, she’s openly hostile towards severus’ friends, who associate with the people who hurt her, and she’s quick to bark at severus for mentioning the things he’s reading about. They start to drift apart.

At the end of her 4th year (1975) the ministry starts realizing a lot of people (inspired by muggle culture all around them during the time) start protesting and demanding the ministry do something to keep these muggleborn families safe. It’s the idea that eventually spurs the Muggle Born Registration Commision. It’s the Muggleborn Protection Act. The law was shoddy, hurried through, and influenced by many people who supported Voldemort secretly. It required all muggleborn students register their names and addresses, so that more patrols could be posted around their families homes; and it limited the number of jobs muggleborns could hold. This last part was to keep muggleborns from high - profile, high risk jobs, such as Aurors, ministry officials, medi wizards.

Well, eventually, someone was able to get the list of muggle families that currently had muggleborn children. Tiny articles in the Daily Prophet appearing about them every once in a while began appearing -- it became a sort of initiation for younger Voldemort supports to kill these families. Preferably, with the magic children inside.

December 15th, 1975, Lily went into London with Petunia and her friends to go dress shopping for Petunia’s wedding dress -- Vernon had proposed the month before, and they wanted a March wedding. That night, when they arrived home, the Dark Mark could still be seen above their house, Aurors and Obliviators everywhere. They were asked to identify their parents, to answer questions, and have social workers from the Ministry come and talk to them -- Petunia was of age, and could be Lily’s legal guardian ---

Except, petunia wanted nothing to do with lily -- this was, lily’s fault after all. Lily was the freak. Lily had as good as killed them. So, she was taken to a foster family.

So, Lily’s lost her innocence, her family, her life. And she can feel herself losing Severus. But she’s angry, so angry. And she’s lashing out -- at everyone. At Severus. She doesn’t understand -- he was her best friend. And yet, he hung around Voldemort supporters. She couldn’t stand it. They were arguing more. Eventually, that led to the scene in SWM.

Now, she doesn’t hate Severus at this point -- she just can’t be friends with him. She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t have the energy to. So, she avoids him.

She doesn’t hate him, not even after her joins the Death Eaters (she hears rumors, of course. There are a lot of rumors. She mourns him, yes, because he is gone just as so many she loves are gone.

No, the day she begins to hate Severus Snape is the day when Albus Dumbledore shows up at the country manor, to tell young Mr. and Mrs. Potter that, due to a prophecy, and the speakings of a Death Eater. Voldemort may be after their son. Albus knew the Potters very well, and he saw Harry as the key to stopping Tom Riddle. The couple had already been laying low after Harry’s birth, but this sealed the deal. They would go into hiding. James was the one to ask if the Death Eater who had heard the prophecy was caught and identified.

“Caught, no. Identified, yes. It was Severus Snape.” Dumbledore would have had his reasonings behind telling them, but i believe he would have because in some, Dumbledore way, cared for them, and he knows they would have wanted to know the truth.

So, this was long and took forever, but yeah.

#character: headcanon #relationship: severus

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the-goofball · 6 years ago

Text

Ever since posting the half-baked ideas I had about a SG1 and STV crossover, making quite a few Janeway/Sam and B’Elanna/Janet gifs and playing around with some fun moments (1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6) there are little pieces of interaction and dialogue floating through my brain.

One of these interactions kept bugging me until I scribbled it down. So, here it is (or there if you prefer to read on ao3)

“Stop doing that,” Janet Fraiser said annoyed to the EMH. “I’m a doctor, not your nurse.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, from the biobed behind her, Tom Paris who was treating Harry Kim for some minor cuts and bruises, piped up: “Yeah, or a decorator.”

“Or an engineer,” Harry said.

Janet, wondering what that was all about, looked from the two back to the EMH who had gone very still.

“Or-“

“We have work to do, Mr. Paris,” the EMH interrupted. “You picked a poor time to complain, Doctor Fraiser,” he addressed to Janet. “We have a room full of people waiting to be treated.”

“None of which have any serious injuries. A perfect time to explain your instruments,” Janet rebuffed. “I could actually help now if you hadn’t avoided me like the plague or treated me like a nurse.”

The EMH gave Janet a side glance. “I haven’t been-“

“Doctor Fraiser?”

Janet silently ground her teeth and then turned to look at Seven of Nine who stood at the other side of the room.

“I require your – help, please.”

Janet nodded and with a last look – and without another remark to the EMH – she went over to Seven. She put her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “I find it hard to believe that you need my help,” Janet said to Seven. “I’ve seen you help the Doctor on several occasions.”

Seven cocked her head. “You have been the leader of your medical facilities,” she said. “Is it your intention to become the leader here as well and have the Doctor activated during emergencies only?”

Janet felt her jaw slacken.

“Your team mates are quite vocal about you being an accomplished medic.”

“One who’s about 400 years out of date!”

“There has been mentioning of you being a - Napoleonic power monger,” Seven said and the implant above her eye lifted. “I have done some research in our Database.”

Janet rubbed her forehead while Seven recited her findings. “Thank you, Colonel,” she muttered under her breath. Then, with a deep inhale, she looked up. “In my – medical facility, I had the right and the obligation to overrule any decision for medical reasons,” Janet explained. “How does your doctor react when he has a particularly stubborn patient who won’t listen to reason?”

“Are you referring to Captain Janeway?”

Widening her eyes, Janet lifted one shoulder. “If she fits the description,” Janet said non-committedly.

“Or maybe Lieutenant Torres?”

“Don’t get me started,” Janet mumbled and sighed, thinking about the many times she had tried to get B’Elanna Torres to keep her appointments for her check-ups.

“The Doctor has that right as well,” Seven said, interrupting Janet’s thoughts. “He refers to it as the ‘ace up his sleeve’, is the correct phrase, I believe.”

Janet snorted. “Indeed, it is,” she replied. “But it doesn’t make you always very popular when you have to pull this card.”

“Understandably.”

Janet gave Seven a long stare – that did nothing to impress Seven. “Are you one of these particularly stubborn patients as well?”

The corner of Seven’s mouth twitched. “That would depend on the situation.”

“Of course,” Janet said dryly. “It always does.”

Seven lifted her chin. “I never miss my routine check-ups.”

“Well, there’s that.” Janet nodded, then tilted her head. “Why did you ask me here?”

“I believe the Doctor fears that you are supposed to replace him and that he will be deactivated.”

“You can’t be serious?” Janet glanced over to the EMH who was now treating another patient.

“He’s been activated since the medical officer was killed during the transport into the Delta Quadrant.”

“So I’ve heard,” Janet said. “And if I understood it correctly, he’s since expanded way beyond his original programming.”

“Yes, he has.”

Janet looked back at Seven. “Even if – and I want to stress the if here – even if I had the ambition to run this place, I’m only human. I can’t be on duty 24/7. Then there’s still the fact that I need an update for – “ Janet shook her head. “Way too long,” she said quietly. It was still hard to wrap her head around the fact that they were several centuries ahead of their time. “To cut a long story short: Voyager could easily use two doctors. I don’t want to work against him. I’d like to work with him,” Janet said. “And as much as I like to brainstorm with Sam… she’s not a medic.”

Seven inclined her head. “Very well.” She brought her hands forward which had been behind her back. There was a tricorder in one hand and a scanner in the other. She held both out to Janet.

It was then that Janet noticed the deep bruise on Seven’s hand. “Seven, why didn’t you say something?” She reached out. “Let me have a look.”

“You will have to get accustomed to let the scanner be your eyes.” Seven said and held the scanner up.

“After I’ve had a look with my eyes,” Janet said, took the scanner and let it fall into the pocket of her lab coat before gently taking Seven’s hand.

“Your eyes won’t tell you-“

“Judging by the colour that this bruise already has, it must have been quite a blow,” Janet murmured and turned Seven’s hand. “I can also tell you that back in my time you wouldn’t have much fun for a while.” Janet looked up. “How’s the mobility? Can you move all your fingers?”

Seven sighed. “My mobility is within acceptable parameters, including the mobility of my fingers.”

“Do you still have sensation everywhere or are there spots that feel numb? Any tingling in the fingers?”

“Yes, no and no tingling.”

“Good.” Janet released Seven’s hand and pulled the scanner from her pocket. “I’m all ears,” she said. “And eyes,” she added, holding up the scanner.

Seven handed the tricorder to Janet as well and for the next half hour, Janet got a thorough explanation while treating Seven’s hand in the process with yet another instrument.

They were just about to go over to one of the patients when the doors to Sick Bay opened and B’Elanna came in with another crewman. They made a beeline for the EMH.

“Doctor Fraiser?”

Janet looked up at Seven, who cocked her head.

“It was Lieutenant Torres who came in.”

Trying not to look over again, Janet nodded. Then she did a double-take. Seven stood with her back to the door. “How- how did you know?”

“Because of your physical reaction.”

Janet scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“Your pulse increased, your pupils dilated and your temperature rose 1.3 degrees – and is rising as we speak.”

Her face now positively on fire, Janet gaped at Seven.

“I have made you uncomfortable.”

“No kidding,” she mumbled in the direction of the tricorder in her hand.

“My advice to get Lieutenant Torres’ attention-“

Janet snapped her head back so quickly, she was afraid she had given herself a whiplash.

The implant above Seven’s eye rose and her expression turned slightly – amused?

“We… we’re talking about my interest in her as a physician, right?”

Now Seven’s eyebrow went up as well.

“Dammit!”

“Ignore her for now,” Seven said. “And may I suggest for you to make your next attempt to approach her not during the main shift in Engineering?”

Janet glanced over to where B’Elanna was, then back at Seven. “Too busy?”

“Precisely.” Seven gave a curt nod. “There will always be one or the other test or repairs underway. Or one of her engineers will come to her for questions.”

“Noted.”

“She does have the late shift tomorrow.”

Once more, Janet’s gaze shifted to B’Elanna.

“May I also suggest that you don’t wear your lab coat?”

“My lab coat?” Janet looked down at herself.

“I assume you would prefer for Lieutenant Torres to be at ease in your presence.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You’re rarely seen without the coat,” Seven said. “It’s almost like-“

“Work clothes? A uniform?” Janet suggested dryly.

The implant above Seven’s eye rose. “An armour.”

Crossing her arms, Janet looked away. “Maybe you have a point,” she conceded after a moment and sighed. “Maybe I’m using the lab coat as a tangible connection to my time and reality.” She lifted her chin and looked back at Seven. “But it’s also plain practical. It does have pockets and I can put things in it.” With a small smile she unfolded her arms and stuffed her hands into the pockets. “Or put my hands in there when I don’t know what to do with them.”

Seven inclined her head. “Understood,” she said. “Shall we proceed and see your first patient, Doctor Fraiser?”

“Janet.”

Seven looked questioningly at Janet.

“You’ve just dissected my physical reaction to B’Elanna and gave me tips on how to approach her,” Janet said. “You may just as well call me Janet.”

“Very well.

“By the way…why did you tell me in the first place?”

“That is for me to know and for you to find out, Janet Fraiser.” There was a tiny smile before Seven turned away and headed towards a bed with a crewman on it.

Janet looked after Seven and then shook her head with a soft laugh, before she followed.

When Janet walked into Main Engineering the next evening, she made it only a few meters before she slowed and then came to a complete stop. Unlike the times before, the place was deserted and very quiet – except for the low hum of the warp core. Fascinated, Janet let her gaze travel up the swirling blue light. It wasn’t only an impressive sight but also very beautiful.

“Who’s lurking in my engine room?”

Janet pursed her lips, then moved towards the niche that served as B’Elanna’s office and from where her voice had come. She peeked around the corner and when she saw B’Elanna sitting at a console, Janet stepped inside and leaned against the bulkhead.

B’Elanna glanced up. “Yeah, lurking all right,” she said. Then her gaze moved down Janet’s body and shot up again.

Out of habit, Janet wanted to put her hands in the pocket of her lab coat. But she had followed Seven’s suggestion and wasn’t wearing one. So instead, Janet slid one hand into the pocket of her uniform pants.

“You can tell Seven that I’ll rip her heart out,” B’Elanna said. “Oh, don’t bother, I’ll just do it,” she added and leaned back in her chair.

“Why is that?”

“Because she talked to you.”

Janet let out a laugh. “Let me get that straight. You want to kill Seven because she talked to me?”

B’Elanna jolted in her seat. “Well… no. Not because she talked to you,” she said hastily. “But she talked to you about me.”

“Actually, it started with Seven interrogating me.” Janet scrunched up her face thoughtfully. “Something about me and my Napoleonic power mongering ways and overtaking Sick Bay. I’ve thankfully forgotten most off her findings on Napoleon but I’m sure you get the picture.”

B’Elanna pressed her lips together but that didn’t keep her eyes from shining with humour. “That does sound like Seven.”

“Once I was able to convince her that I had no intention on overtaking Sick Bay, Seven began explaining some medical instruments and proceedings to me. That you came up in the conversation was a coincidence.”

“Oh… it was?”

“Yeah.” Janet nodded. “And it only started when you came into Sick Bay.”

“So, it’s my fault now?”

“More like my own,” Janet said. “Not that I think anyone is at fault here.”

B’Elanna harrumphed and crossed her arms. “How was it your fault?”

Janet studied B’Elanna for a moment, then took a deep breath: “Seven knew you had come into the room without having seen you.”

For just a moment, B’Elanna’s eyes widened, then she narrowed them. “How-“ She pushed a lock of hair behind an ear. “How did she know?”

“Funny, I asked the exact same question,” Janet said. “Imagine my surprise when she told me it was because of my physical reaction to you.”

B’Elanna’s lips parted but she didn’t say anything.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t,” B’Elanna said, then added: “I might have thought of it as a possibility at first.”

Janet nodded. “Was it the implication of what it means that had you dismiss the thought again?”

With a sigh, B’Elanna nodded slowly, just before jerking upright. “Hang on a minute, what implication are we talking about exactly?”

With a small smile, Janet said quietly: “My interest in you.”

“Because I’m a new species you’ve never encountered before?”

Janet arched an eyebrow. “There might be no Klingons, Vulcan or Borgs in my reality, but you’re hardly the first alien I’ve seen,” she said. “So, no, that’s not what gets my blood pumping,” she added.

“So you haven’t been pestering me out of professional curiosity?”

“I have been pestering you for professional reasons,” Janet said. “These routine check-ups happen for a reason.”

B’Elanna made a scoffing sound – that Janet ignored.

“But it was unprofessional of me to hope that I could get you to talk to me.” Janet sighed and for a moment looked to the floor before lifting her gaze back to B’Elanna. “I- I just didn’t have the guts to ask if you’d like to have lunch with me, or dinner.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

“What?” Janet tilted her head questioningly.

“Well, lunch has been over for hours and even the dinner crowed will be gone by now,” B’Elanna said matter-of-factly. “But I’m sure Neelix would fix something for us.”

Janet pushed herself from the bulkhead. “I… didn’t mean today.”

“Are you saying that you don’t have the guts to spontaneously have dinner with me?”

Janet felt her mouth drop open – and that for two reasons: first was the fact that B’Elanna did seem to want to go and have a meal with Janet. And secondly the cheek with which B’Elanna had delivered her comment. For the moment, Janet found it much easier to deal with the cheekiness. She crossed her arms, ducked her chin under and looked at B’Elanna from underneath furrowed brows. There was still a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth though, when she said: “You just wanna rattle my cage.”

“Yeah.”

B’Elanna’s admission caught Janet off-guard and she let out a laugh. “Why?”

B’Elanna cocked her head and gave Janet a thoughtful look. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Janet blinked. “Why would I be?”

Waving one hand dismissively, B’Elanna said: “I’ll leave the history lesson for another time. Suffice to say, Klingons have an excellent sense of smell. And you… you have a nice scent. But it gets even better when your – how did you phrase it? When your blood is boiling? No, when your blood is pumping.”

Not quite sure if she had understood correctly, Janet cleared her throat. “You- you like my scent?”

“Seven didn’t tell you?”

“She didn’t tell me squat,” Janet said. “Well, except for not approaching you during a main shift and losing the lab coat.”

“Maybe I’m not gonna kill her after all.”

“Okay,” Janet said slowly. “What could she have told me?”

B’Elanna chuckled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah, I would.” Janet grinned.

“I bet.” B’Elanna looked onto the console. “I might answer that question in about 15 minutes – if you have the guts for dinner with me.”

Janet put her head in her neck and laughed.

“Okay, I think it’s time for you to leave,” B’Elanna said with a half-smile.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you’re starting to smell really good,” B’Elanna said. “And shallow breathing gets me only so far in here.”

“In my time we sometimes had to perform mouth to mouth in an emergency,” Janet said and was rather satisfied with the surprise in B’Elanna’s face. “I could offer-“

“Out!” There was no heat in B’Elanna’s voice. “Now,” she added and made shooing gestures with her hands.

“All right, all right, I’m going,” Janet said and with a last smile at B’Elanna turned around. “I’ll see you in the Mess Hall?”

“Yeah,” B’Elanna replied. “I just need to finish this report.”

Was it her imagination or did B’Elanna sound distracted? She was probably already back to work with her thoughts. Janet turned her head a little more, expecting to see B’Elanna bend over the console. But instead, B’Elanna was leaning back in the chair with her nose in the air. The sight was unexpected but now that Janet knew about the scent thing, it was quite sensual to see – and intimate. Quickly, Janet stepped around the corner. Despite the fact that B’Elanna had been more relaxed and open than in any other of their encounters before, Janet doubted she wanted to be seen like this just yet.

Slowly, Janet made her way to the Mess Hall. But then thought better of it. She hurried to her quarters first to get some reading material. She could use the time she had to wait and study some of the texts, Seven had provided her with. It would keep her occupied as well and maybe stop her from getting nervous. Or excited, her inner voice added. And don’t forget even more curious.

“Oh hush,” she muttered to herself as she briskly walked down the corridors.

She had just reached her quarters and picked up two PADDs when the intercom on her chest chirped.

“Torres to Doctor Fraiser.”

Janet touched the little gadget. “Fraiser here.”

“Listen, um… would you mind if we met on the Holodeck instead of the Mess Hall?”

“On the Holodeck?”

“Yeah, I need a bit more space around me.”

Janet’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t pretend to understand the concept of holodecks or holoprograms but if you say it will offer you more space… of course we can meet there.”

“Okay, thanks,” B’Elanna said.

“No problem.”

“I’ll see you shortly.”

“Um… B’Elanna?”

“Yes?”

“How- how do I get there?”

There was a soft chuckle. “I assume you’re already in the Mess Hall.”

“Err… actually, I’m in my quarters.”

There was a brief pause. “All right,” B’Elanna said slowly.

“Yeah, I thought I could pick up some reading material to – um bridge the time.”

Another pause. Then: “You went to your quarters to pick up some reading material to wait for 15 minutes in the Mess Hall?”

Janet looked to the floor. “Yeah.” She was glad that B’Elanna couldn’t see her right now.

“You realize that you wouldn’t have had more than a couple of minutes to actually read after your little detour?”

“Um…no.”

There was a thoughtful hum before B’Elanna cleared her throat and then explained Janet how to get to the Holodeck.

A short while later, Janet walked down the corridor that led to Holodeck 2. When she came around a corner, Janet saw B’Elanna pacing in front of a door, who came to a stop when she turned and saw Janet.

Then B’Elanna moved to a panel beside the door and tapped in some commands. There was a beep and the doors slid open. Janet stepped up beside B’Elanna and followed her inside as she began to move.

“Where are we going? I mean, I know we’re entering a holodeck but…”

B’Elanna chuckled. “It’s a legit question.”

“Okay, so where are we going?”

They turned around a corner.

“Welcome to Sandrine’s,” B’Elanna said.

“A bar?”

“Yeah, a couple of years ago we used to spend a lot of time in here in our free time. Usually there are a few characters as well but I deactivated them.”

Janet walked past the pool table and let her fingers run across the green velvet. “It feels so real.” She looked to B’Elanna who was heading behind the bar. “I’m glad it doesn’t smell like a bar, though.”

“Oh good, so you can’t smell it.”

Janet blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want something to drink?”

Janet walked to the bar. Bracing her arms on the wood, she looked at B’Elanna. “Are you saying you can actually smell…” Janet shrugged. “The bar?”

“Yeah.” B’Elanna turned around to face Janet. “As I said, I needed a bit of space to move around,” she explained. “And I figured that adding a bit of the dank smell to the program would um… help me keep a clear head.”

Janet narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and then understood the implication. She cocked her head. “Because of me or rather my scent.” She remembered B’Elanna in her office with her nose in the air.

“Yeah.” B’Elanna nodded. She put two glasses with what seemed to be water on the bar. “But before this flirtation gets any further, there are a few things you should know.”

“So, you have been flirting with me.”

B’Elanna gave Janet a scathing look – which made Janet lift her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s obviously important enough for you to subjugate yourself to the stank of an empty bar.”

B’Elanna pushed herself from the bar and walked around it. “Klingons are a warrior race; they’re all about fighting and honour and whatnot.”

“So are the Jaffa.”

“Maybe. But I guess they don’t have a saying that indicates that the wedding night must have been without passion if not at least one of the couple has a broken bone afterwards.”

“Um… not that I know of.” Janet turned slightly to follow B’Elanna with her gaze as she paced.

“It’s quite common to tease newly weds with this among Klingons,” B’Elanna said and turned on her heels. “They consider it a blessing if a clavicle gets broken.”

“That sounds…”

“Painful?” B’Elanna suggested dryly.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Now… I’ve never injured a partner,” B’Elanna said and came to a stop a few feet away from Janet. “But…” She sighed.

“But?”

“Kahless, you’re just so…” B’Elanna lifted her hands.

Janet cocked her head. “I’m what?”

“Small.”

She had expected a lot of things, but not a reference to her height at this point. That it was coming from B’Elanna was even more bizarre. “That’s rich coming from you,” Janet said dryly with an arched brow. “As far as I know there aren’t that many people on board Voyager who are shorter than you are.”

B’Elanna crossed her arms. “I’m still stronger than most of them thanks to my heritage.”

Janet connected the dots and nodded. “So your previous partners have all been Klingons.”

That made B’Elanna frown. “No, I haven’t been with a Klingon before.”

Confused, Janet lifted her shoulders. “Then why is my size a concern?”

“You know what? You’re right.” B’Elanna barked out a laugh. “This whole conversation is ridiculous. I mean, we haven’t had a civil conversation yet and here I am trying to tell you that I might leave a bruise because I’m holding on too tight.”

The thought of B’Elanna caught up in passion and holding on tightly made Janet’s pulse speed up and she swallowed dryly. “Then why are we here?” She asked quietly.

“Good question. You tell me.”

“I’m here because I have a soft spot for snarky, brilliant brunettes,” Janet said and took a few steps towards B’Elanna. “Your turn.”

B’Elanna crossed her arms. “That’s a compliment.”

The corner of Janet’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, it is.”

“Well, the brilliant part at least.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Janet shrugged a shoulder. “You often have this little smirk on your face when you deliver one of your snarky comments,” Janet said. “I find that to be very attractive.”

“You like being at the end of my sharp tongue?”

“Oh my.” Janet let out a laugh.

“I mean being the butt of my joke,” B’Elanna corrected hastily but it was too late.

“I don’t know if I like being at the end of your tongue yet,” Janet said. “But I’d like to find out.”

B’Elanna’s arms dropped to her sides and for a moment B’Elanna just stared at Janet. Then she turned her head away.

“Why are you here, B’Elanna?”

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, B’Elanna looked at Janet. “Because I’m curious,” she finally said. “About you,” she added.

“Why?”

B’Elanna sighed and then locked onto Janet’s eyes. “You’re a fascinating mixture of control and passion.”

Janet nodded. “And you’re wondering which one has the upper hand when it comes to sex?”

With a snort, B’Elanna crossed her arms. “I think that’s a safe bet.”

“Or so you believe,” Janet said with a half-smile.

“Are you saying otherwise?”

Janet cocked her head. “You are a scientist, right?”

There was a perplexed hesitation, then B’Elanna nodded. “Well, technically, I’m an engineer.”

“Even better,” Janet said. “As a scientist, wouldn’t you agree that there is some chemistry between us?”

One corner of B’Elanna’s mouth lifted into a half-grin. “Yeah, I can agree to that.”

Janet nodded and then – with her pulse quickening – walked up to B’Elanna. She looked up. “As an…” Janet swallowed. “As an engineer wouldn’t you like to get your hands-“

B’Elanna’s nostrils flared and she inhaled sharply. “Kahless,” she whispered and took a step back.

Janet’s shoulders sagged. “I- I don’t know how else to tell you that I want you,” she said quietly. “Or that it’s okay for you to want me.”

“But don’t… you want a date first? Dinner or something?”

“How about breakfast afterwards?”

B’Elanna let out a laugh and shook her head.

“Look, we agreed to have dinner but you thought you might get distracted by my scent,” Janet said. “What makes you think that the next attempt will be any less distracting?”

Worrying her lower lip, B’Elanna shrugged a shoulder.

“Maybe once you have my scent all over you-“

There was a low moan and B’Elanna crossed arms moved to her midsection.

“All right.” Janet lifted her hands and backed off. “Let me know how you want to proceed – if you even want to.” She turned on her heels and headed towards the exit.

“Wait.”

Janet closed her eyes and stopped. “Please, I don’t want to play games with you,” she said quietly.

“No games.” B’Elanna came closer. “Just… I just need to finish saying what I started earlier.” There was a tentative touch on Janet’s shoulder. “Why I asked you to come here in the first place. I- I need you to know.”

Slowly, Janet turned around. “Know what?”

“You need to know what you’re getting into.”

Janet arched her brows. “That sounds ominous.”

B’Elanna pushed her hair behind an ear. “I mentioned that I might hold on too tight and maybe even leave marks.”

“Yes, you did,” Janet said and then remembered B’Elanna commenting on her, Janet, being so small. “Is this about my height?”

B’Elanna nodded.

“Just because I’m shorter than average doesn’t mean I’m any more or less fragile than others.” Janet gave B’Elanna a small smile.

“I- I might also bite.”

A flare of excitement shot through Janet and she inhaled sharply – so did B’Elanna, before she looked away with a laugh. “Okay, scratch the ‘might’. I will bite. I like biting,” B’Elanna said and looked back at Janet. “But I might break the skin on occasions.”

Cocking her head, Janet swallowed. Her whole body seemed to be thrumming with desire. “Good thing I’m a doctor then.”

B’Elanna’s gaze moved to Janet’s neck. “Is that an invitation?”

Janet’s laugh was low. “If you need another one.”

“A written one would be nice,” B’Elanna said with a half-smile. “You know, so I could check every once in a while.”

Janet patted down her pockets. “Sorry, I don’t have anything to write with me.”

“Damn,” B’Elanna muttered.

“B’Elanna, if I approach or touch you… will you back off again?”

B’Elanna shook her head. “No.”

With her heartbeat in her throat, Janet stepped up to B’Elanna and reached up to touch her face. B’Elanna put her hands on top of Janet’s and for a moment Janet thought B’Elanna would pull them off again. But all that B’Elanna did was turning one of Janet’s hands slightly. Closing her eyes, she pressed her nose against Janet’s wrist and inhaled deeply.

“You know, before I saw you down in Engineering, I never thought that someone sniffing me could be so sensual,” Janet said quietly.

Without opening her eyes, B’Elanna turned to Janet’s other wrist and took another deep breath. “I don’t sniff. I’m not a dog,” she said. “I’m scenting you.” B’Elanna looked at Janet with hooded eyes.

“Sorry,” Janet whispered.

“You saw me in Engineering?”

“Just briefly.” Janet moved closer to B’Elanna so that their bodies touched. The soft hiss from B’Elanna’s inhale was almost drowned by Janet’s low hum.

B’Elanna let go of Janet’s hands and instead put her arms around Janet. Pulling her closer, B’Elanna bend her head.

Janet moved her hand to the back of B’Elanna’s neck and stretched up.

After the prelude that had led to this; B’Elanna’s tale about Klingons, bruises and biting; Janet had expected the kiss to be more – heated. But it wasn’t. Not that Janet felt like complaining. Oh, no. B’Elanna kissed Janet with a slow burning passion that left nothing to desire – except the desire or more.

“I don’t think I can stand it much longer,” Janet whispered against B’Elanna’s lips after a while.

B’Elanna lifted her head to look at Janet. “Stand what much longer?”

“What?” Janet frowned. “What did I say?”

“That you can’t stand it much longer.”

Janet’s mouth dropped open. “I meant stand,” she said. “I don’t think I can stand much longer.”

It was a futile attempt from B’Elanna to try and hide her grin but she gave it her best. “What happened, Doctor? Lost the ability to talk?”

Janet laughed. “You happened, Lieutenant.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?”

“In the most positive sense, yes.”

“I don’t mind taking the blame for that,” B’Elanna said with a smug smile.

Janet pulled her hand from B’Elanna’s neck and traced the laugh-line around B’Elanna’s mouth with a finger. “I see you’re also very attractive when you’re smug,” she said – which made B’Elanna’s smile widened.

“I don’t suppose there’s something a bit more comfortable to sit on than the chairs?”

“Um… I don’t think so,” B’Elanna looked up and around. “You could sit on the pool table.”

Janet snorted. “The pool table?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “Probably not the most comfortable.”

“Yeah. And isn’t it the place where you try to put things into holes?”

For a moment, B’Elanna just gaped at Janet. Then she closed her eyes. However, they popped open just a heartbeat later. “Computer, add a couch to the interior of this bar,” she said triumphantly.

“Please specify. There are several variations in the Database.”

The expression of utter disbelief on B’Elanna’s face had Janet lower her head to keep her smile hidden.

“I just want a damn couch,” B’Elanna grumbled.

“There is no ‘damn couch’ in the Database,” the computer voice announced and Janet lost it. She burst out laughing while the computer began listing different kind of couches.

“You’re not helping,” B’Elanna said close to Janet’s ear.

Janet shook her head slightly. “No, I guess not.” She looked up, still smiling broadly. “But it is pretty hilarious.”

B’Elanna harrumphed and Janet cleared her throat.

“Computer, is there an ottoman in the Database?”

“Affirmative.”

“One where three people can be seated?”

“Affirmative.”

“Please add one of those to the-“ Janet frowned and looked questioningly at B’Elanna.

“Add one of those to the interior of the current setting.”

There was a beep and a moment later the ottoman appeared beside them.

“Much better,” B’Elanna said and let go of Janet. She took her hand instead and together they went to the couch where they sat down – now facing the door.

“Um… could other people come in here?”

“Good point! Computer, seal the doors.”

There was another beep and Janet assumed that the doors were now locked. With a smile, she turned to B’Elanna and reached out.

“Oh, wait. Computer, when is the next reservation for the Holodeck?”

“The next slot begins in 54 minutes.”

“Damn.” B’Elanna sighed.

“How… how about we enjoy ourselves for the next little while and then move to a more appropriate location if we feel like it?”

B’Elanna’s expression brightened. “I like the way your mind works, Doctor.”

Janet put a hand on the back of B’Elanna’s neck. “I’m glad you do, Lieutenant,” she said and pulled B’Elanna with her down on the couch.

FIN

#janet fraiser #b'elanna torres #torres x fraiser #fluff and humor #first kiss #seven of nine #emh #tom paris #harry kim #established friendship between b'elanna and seven #stargate sg1 #star trek voyager #crossover #out of character

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oh-mother-of-darkness · 7 years ago

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asks (40)

Anonymous said: Holy frick that is so encouraging and I needed that so much bc I literally visited my college to measure my dorm room and drove home in tears bc I panicked myself into a frenzy about whether or not everything leading me to this point has been a mistake and what if I fail and ruin my life before it even starts (I have since calmed down a little) so your encouragement was much needed & is much appreciated

I’m glad I could help <3 <3 <3 Good luck at school! I’m sure you’ll kick its ass

areverieofchaosdreams said: It's Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day. So thank you for all your amazing stories!!!

Oh goodness I’m all a blushin :’)

Anonymous said: *HAPPY WRITER APPRECIATION DAY* Send this to someone whose talent has blown you away, who you'd like to encourage to keep on writing always, and who you'd like to thank for working their butt off to provide fandom members with breathtaking stories to consume! THANK YOU :D

Aw thank you!

Anonymous said: Hi! I Hope you're well! Do you still take fic requests? Because I really miss Colin Wilkes and I'd love to a story of him with your writing!

Unfortunately I don’t often take requests these days, but I’ll definitely keep Colin in mind!

dirtycherrypie said: hey! applying for WE for the R&D department (may or may not be aware of producing bat gadgets)

dirtycherrypie said: SHit forgot my name - Bea, at your service!

[Bruce Wayne voice] hired

tigers-and-weeds said: Literally just fell down the rabbit hole on your tumblr for the last 12-24 hours. I am in love with with you headcannons and fics! The angst feeds my soul... So I figured I would request: anything angsty with Dick and Damian please please please

Okay again I don’t usually take fic requests BUT I like me some angst so the odds that this will eventually happen.... are extremely high. I’ll try to remember to dedicate the next one to you :) And thank you!

math--ew said: I went on a little birthday vacation to california and I've never been to the beach before. I was bending down to grab a pretty shell and this huge wave knocked me face first into the sand. Like, five people saw and laghed but I got the shell so I guess it's a win win.

Duuuude back at Lake Michigan last month the same thing happened to me. I was taking care of my little sister and her five year old friend, so I was so busy making sure they were okay that the wave plowed me halfway across the beach

babybatbrat said: when i was in ap physics i once spent an entire study period in my physics teacher's room working on one problem. as far as i could tell i was doing all of the work correctly and had all the initial values right so i was racking my brain trying to figure out why i wasn't getting the right answer. the third time i went up to my teacher and asked for help he told me to start at the beginning and walk him through my process bc he couldn't tell why i was getting it wrong either (1)

babybatbrat said: (2) so i start the problem and explain how i got through all the values - "okay so the rod is 5 inches long and half of 5 is 3 and a half -" and i stopped there bc it occurred to me that 3.5 is not half of 5. "it's what?" My teacher asks. i put my head in my hands and stood there for a minute before picking up my work and walking to the back of the classroom while he laughed, bc i had just spent 45 minutes convinced that half of 5 was 3.5 and not, in fact, 2.5, and that was the only thing wrong

Honestly??? Relatable

babybatbrat said: One time i woke up at six in the morning to hear the neighbor's dog barking and instantly realized that meant my dog had jumped the fence, so i went racing outside and sprinted down the street to catch her. when i did i picked her up and turned around to go home and then saw my neighbor standing on their front porch, realized i was in only an oversized spiderman tshirt and snowman pajama shorts, holding a twenty pound labrador and thats how i met my new neighbors

Incredible...... 10/10.....

thrakaboom said: Not a funny story,but two days ago at comic con I met Tom King and he showed me a picture of his kids while he was signing my books

Well hey that’s pretty cool

Anonymous said: I adore your Tumblr. It was a wonderful way to get into the Batfamily fanbase; prior, I thought that there was only one Batman and a single Robin, dearie me was I wrong. And those stories you write, just great. The Headcanons are just as enjoyable. As for Batman, that has come to be a sibling enjoyment. Thank you for your contributions and existence!

!!!!!! Welcome to the crew!

frnkensteingrrrlz said: hey!!! i just went through ur reasons to be happy tag and!! i'm so so happy bc of it (esp the damian hcs, they're spot on imo and he's my favourite) so i hope u have a good day!!!

Thanks! I am having a good day today! Although I’m sure it’s been a long time since you sent this :////

Anonymous said: HELLO I have just discovered and binge-read all of your fics with my homeboy Damian in them, and just wanted to pop by and say that I love you & you are my hero & you write my boy so well so thank u and I hope your life is blessed & you achieve your wildest hopes & dreams

My day is made :D

badfaith00 said: Best batman storyline you've ever read ?

Ooooooh hm I’m mighty attached to n52 Batman and Robin? Particularly the first storyline, but the second is also fantastic

Anonymous said: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHAMELESSLY REBLOGGING YOUR OWN WORK BC I HADNT SEEN IT BEFORE AND ITS HONESTLY SO PHENOMENAL ITS GOING ON MY LIST OF ALL TIME FAVORITES THANK U AND BLESS U

THANK YOU!!! THAT ONE IS MY FAVORITE AND I AM VERY PROUD OF IT

onwardmotley said: In today's Detective Comics someone finally told Bruce and co that Tim's alive. They didn't explain where he is, or how to get him back, but hey. It might've had more impact if anyone was seen actually mourning Tim and it wasn't just played as him being in cosmic time out, but at least it should end soon idk. Hopefully.

Tim Drake? It’s been years since I heard that name.....

Finally. Thank goodness.

Anonymous said: Idk if I prefer your soul crushing angst or your heartwarming fluff... actually I like to suffer so I'll stay with angst lol

Y’all seeing this? Anon gave me permission. Can’t yell at me next time because it won't be my fault (thanks babe :))

Anonymous said: for music, idk what kind of music u like so here is variety: St. Vincent - Paris is Burning, Sea Wolf - Dear Fellow Traveler (tbh everything by Sea Wolf is great), Dirt Poor Robins - Eleanor Rigby, Between Wind and Water- HAEL, Ellem - Kings and Queens and Vagabonds, The Rigs - Rise & Fall, Tally Hall - Light and Night, and Streetlight Manifesto - The Hands that Thieve.

Thank you! I’m excited to listen to these! I’ll start right now!

Anonymous said: 1) What are the good comics to read for Batfamily stuff (from any point in time) and 2) what are the best Jason Todd comics? Thanks!

Okay for Jason I would definitely start with the big ones, which are A Death In the Family and Under the Red Hood. After that you could try Red Hood: the Lost Days and Countdown to Final Crisis. I would avoid the n52 series until you have a good enough grasp of the character to recognize bad writing when you see it.

For the generalized batfam.... that’s pretty broad. My personal favorites are Red Robin, Batgirl (2009), and both B&R series. If you have more specific questions, you should IM me! I promise I’m better about answering those than asks

yellowwallsbluesky said: Have you heard Swooner by The Zolas? I've really been jamming to it lately

Listening to it right now! Sounds like a bop so far :)

Anonymous said: Hidden citizens paint it black 💜

Much obliged!

Anonymous said: Harry styles "sign of the times".

[adds to list] thank you!

neo669 said: I MISS CASA OLE!! Sorry just read that you lived in Bryan/College Station and I used to live there as well. It's kinda hard to find people that even know that it exists. But I'm sure you can kick law schools butt. You got this!

Yooooooo I miss cstat too :((((

palliddark said: Adalgiza, and I'll be a translator (English to Brazilian Portuguese)

[Bruce Wayne voice] also hired

maeofthedead said: I love your headcannons and now I sort of want to cry thank

Excellent that is the exact target response

Anonymous said: Love your rant in the tags about the pizza making I'm laughing so hard

Listen..... I have strong feelings

Anonymous said: Did you hear they're making an omnibus of Tomasi's entire run on Batman & Robin?? I just heard and now I kinda want to get this massive book in honor of my favorite batkid and the series that made me love him so much

Man I already have all the individual volumes but if I didn’t......

sonicboom00724601 said: Hi. :) Nice headcanon. :)

I’m not sure which one you’re talking about, but thank you! You're real sweet

Anonymous said: can you maybe write an interaction between Wonder Woman and Captain America? I absolutely adore your style and would love to see your take on it.

Hmmmm I don’t really have a good enough grasp of Captain America’s characterization to try that one :////

Anonymous said: i tried to kill on mosquito that was on my ceiling by slamming it with a book but mosquito was on the move so i bounced swiftly and jammed both my wrist and thumb and now my existence is Pain. also my thumbs swelling and looks purple, so that's nice

Oh shit anon you good???

daziy said: Do we know who Barbara's mother usually is?

Yeah! In her original version, Babs had a birth mom and an adopted mom. She was originally Jim’s niece, so her birth mom’s name was Thelma Gordon. After the adoption, her parents were Jim and Barbara Gordon, with her adopted mother being her namesake. So two Barbara Gordons.

I think for awhile the canon was that her mother died in a car crash, but the current version has her still alive. She left Jim when Babs was young, taking her son (Babs’s brother) with her. James Gordon (the son) turned out to be a serial killer.

Barbara Gordon Sr. and James Gordon Jr. both appeared in the n52 Batgirl series during the Death of the Family arc. There’s also a very good story about James from the Dickbats period. That one’s called The Black Mirror, if I’m not mistaken?

Anonymous said: Hi! What do you think of the upcoming metal event? Dick and Damian seem to have a big role in it ( I hope Jason is involved too but there's still no sign of it)

Hmmmm I don’t know that I have an opinion just yet, but as always, I hope to be pleasantly surprised

Anonymous said: bless you are your wonderful tagging system. know that i may have avoided death because of how easy it was to f ind the thing I wanted in your tags. bless

Oh goodness anon I hope you’re not serious about almost dying.... but thanks?

Anonymous said: hi amy! would u say that damians narrative is written as a child abuse one? like there are definitely many allusions to it but its also not as explicit as say, cassandra or rose. like how much of it would u chalk up to comic world dynamics and how much to actual abuse? also would u consider jason to also be a case of this?

Oh I have very strong opinions about the role of abuse in Damian’s narrative. It’s absolutely there, and the effects are staggeringly large. There is no doubt in my mind that the league was an abusive environment, and I can’t justify some of the things Bruce did either.

I think I would say the same thing for Jason, if not quite as strongly. I definitely think that some of the things that happened to Jason as a child shaped his story later on, but less of those were abuse than outside circumstances. The n52 takes a different track on that one, I think, but I don’t put much stock in that characterization.

Anonymous said: has jason forgiven bruce for not killing joker? if so, what made him?

Unlikely. They get along better these days, but I would argue that comes from poor characterization of Bruce, not an actual resolution process.

mellenabrave said: My mom accidentlly threw my Damian doll away (╥_╥)

Tossed in the garbage by yet another parent--

Anonymous said: Whoa where'd you get that bat and oracle shirt you're wearing in your necklace pic? It's so cool! (The necklace is also gorgeous!)

Shoot I think it was from Redbubble? But I can’t find it now

Anonymous said: Omg that necklace was so cool!!! Kudos to the maker of it!! Also I really like your top!!

Thank you <3

#......dont look at me #listen i JUST got wifi again #asks

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thisdaynews · 5 years ago

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POLITICO Playbook: Who’s gonna make the debate stage?

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/politico-playbook-whos-gonna-make-the-debate-stage/

POLITICO Playbook: Who’s gonna make the debate stage?

BREAKING OVERNIGHT … FT: “Johnson to suspend parliament in bid to frustrate efforts to block no-deal Brexit,”by Sebastian Payne and Philip Georgiadis in London: “Boris Johnson is set to suspend parliament for at least a month in order to curtail the efforts of MPs who hope to pass legislation to avoid a no-deal Brexit on October 31.

“British MPs will return for a week in early September,but parliament is expected to be suspended during the party conference season and ahead of a fresh Queen’s Speech, scheduled for October 14.

“Senior Downing Street officials confirmed to the FT that parliamentwill return on September 3 ‘as timetabled,’ but will probably be suspended again early the following week. It will then return on October 14.

“The prime minister has failed to rule out proroguing parliament several timesand insisted that ‘politicians don’t get to choose which public votes they respect.’ A cross-party agreement was struck on Tuesday to bring forward legislation next week that would force Mr Johnson to request another extension to Article 50.” FT

DEBATE STATS, BY THE NUMBERS …This album is dedicated to those who are complaining about being left out of the upcoming Democratic presidential primary debate in Houston.TODAYis the deadline for qualifying for the third debate, and we’re expecting at least two more relevant polls.

Ten candidates have already qualified:Joe Biden, Cory Booker, Pete Buttigieg, Julián Castro, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, Beto O’Rourke, Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren and Andrew Yang.

There have been21 DNC-APPROVED POLLSby today, and if you want to be on the stage, you need to have reached2%inFOUR POLLS.Four of 21.… THOSE WHO WILL NOT QUALIFYare failing to reach1%in the polls.

… AND ANOTHER ONE … NEW, USA TODAY: “Poll: Americans dread the 2020 election and have doubts about the outcome; Biden maintains his lead,”by Susan Page, Jason Lalljee and Jeanine Santucci: “A nationwide USA TODAY/Suffolk University Poll found a sharply divided country that views next year’s presidential campaign as a sobering test of the fundamental values of the United States. A majority of those on both sides called the election the most important of their lifetimes.

“And after it’s over? If the candidate they support loses, nearly fourin 10 said they would have little or no confidence that the election had been conducted in a fair-and-square way, setting up what could be a debate over the legitimacy of the next president. Those expressing doubts crossed partisan lines – 30% of Republicans and 45% of Democrats – although they identified different threats to the electoral process.

“In the crowded Democratic contest, former Vice President Joe Bidenretained a wide lead, at 32%, up 2 percentage points from the USA TODAY/Suffolk poll taken in June. But Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren moved up 4 points to second place, at 14%, and Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders dropped 3 points, now at third place with 12%.” USA Today

— AT ZERO PERCENTin this new poll: Montana Gov. Steve Bullock, Sen. Michael Bennet (D-Colo.), New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio, John Delaney, Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (D-Hawaii), Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (D-N.Y.), Klobuchar, Wayne Messam, Joe Sestak, Tom Steyer and Marianne Williamson.Check out Zach Montellaro’s poll tracker

— ELENA SCHNEIDER: “Dems who miss debate take aim at DNC”

BIDEN SPEAKS. AND SPEAKS. … AND SPEAKS. … NOLAN MCCASKILL: “Joe Biden took questions from black reporters for 90 minutes. He did not disappoint”:“Joe Biden’s campaign convened a dozen or so black reporters from major media outlets Tuesday for what was offered as a private, off-the-record sit-down with the Democratic frontrunner.

“But Biden opened the discussion allowing himself to be quoted.And then he started talking, and talked some more, and before everyone knew it, the former vice president had held forth for 90 minutes. That’s an extraordinary amount of time for a major presidential candidate to meet the press in a single sitting.

“Donning a sleek blue suit and white shirt with no tie,Biden personally greeted each reporter and ended up taking a question — in some cases, multiple questions — from each one. He then darted off to catch a flight to Richmond, Va., where he was scheduled to hold a fundraiser Tuesday evening, before heading to South Carolina Wednesday for a campaign swing. …

“Biden expressed a preference for a smaller debate stage… ‘It’s taken me and I assume others some time to figure out how to engage in a non-debate debate, because there’s no debate,’ said Biden. He acknowledged his ‘mistake’ in saying ‘my time is up’ during a previous debate instead of talking over his allotted speaking time. ‘Turns out that’s a big mistake.’” POLITICO

PLACE YOUR BETS NOW … WHICH HOUSE DEMOCRATwill try to kill the G-7 at President Donald Trump’s Doral golf club in Miami by trying to attach language to a spending bill that says no international summit can be held at a hotel and/or venue owned by an elected official?

Good Wednesday morning.

WAPO’S NICK MIROFFandJOSH DAWSEY: “‘Take the land’: President Trump wants a border wall. He wants it black. And he wants it by Election Day”:“President Trump is so eager to complete hundreds of miles of border fence ahead of the 2020 presidential election that he has directed aides to fast-track billions of dollars’ worth of construction contracts, aggressively seize private land and disregard environmental rules, according to current and former officials involved with the project.

“He also has told worried subordinates that he will pardon themof any potential wrongdoing should they have to break laws to get the barriers built quickly, those officials said.

“Trump has repeatedly promised to complete 500 milesof fencing by the time voters go to the polls in November 2020, stirring chants of ‘Finish the Wall!’ at his political rallies as he pushes for tighter border controls. But the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has completed just about 60 miles of ‘replacement’ barrier during the first 2½ years of Trump’s presidency, all of it in areas that previously had border infrastructure.” WaPo

— DEMOCRATSare likely going to be very, very interested in the president instructing aides to break the law, and promising a pardon.

TO WIT … WSJ: “Trump Administration to Divert Hurricane Relief Funds for Border Detention,”by Natalie Andrews and Michelle Hackman: “The Trump administration plans to use $271 million of Department of Homeland Security funds, including some designated to help hurricane-stricken areas, to detain and remove immigrants who cross the southern U.S. border illegally.

“DHS plans to divert money that lawmakers had designatedfor other purposes at the agency to increase its capacity to handle people crossing the U.S.-Mexico border, many of whom are Central Americans seeking asylum from violence in their home countries.” WSJ

— AP/SAN JUAN: “Storm Dorian expected to strengthen, could hit Puerto Rico”

DRAFT HUCKABEE SANDERS EFFORT LAUNCHES …Jarrad Shelton has launched a “Draft Sarah Huckabee Sanders For Arkansas” PAC to try to get the former White House press secretary into the race for governor.

“My name is Jarrad Shelton from Nashville, Arkansasand I wanted to take a moment to invite you to join me, President Trump, and Patriots across America in showing Sarah Huckabee Sanders that she will have the support both in Arkansas and across the United States if she decides to run for Governor or any elected office in Arkansas.”The email…The website

THE PRESIDENTannounced a rally in Fayetteville, N.C., on Sept. 9, the night before the competitive special election in North Carolina’s 9th Congressional District between Democrat Dan McCready and Republican Dan Bishop.TRUMPcan presumably help Bishop in this race, since the president won the district by nearly 12 points in 2016.

— LAURA BARRÓN-LÓPEZandALEX ISENSTADT: “Trump, GOP fret loss in bellwether House special election”: “Republicans are funneling resources into the southern North Carolina district as they try to stave off an embarrassing loss in a GOP-heavy seat that President Donald Trump won in 2016 by more than 11 percentage points. With private polling showing a close race between Bishop and Democrat Dan McCready, Trump will travel to the district on Sept. 9, the night before the special election, for a rally in Fayetteville, N.C. And the White House is also planning to deploy Vice President Mike Pence and the president’s son, Donald Trump Jr., before the election. …

“Republicans hope that Trump’s involvement in the district —which is filled with the type of white and older working-class voters that powered his 2016 win — will put Bishop over the top. ‘This race is about Donald Trump,’ said Jim Blaine, a senior adviser to Bishop’s campaign. ‘Dan’s embraced Trump 100 percent.’” POLITICO

NOTABLE AROUND TOWN … THE PENTAGONwill hold a briefing Thursday. SecDefMARK ESPERand Joint Chiefs ChairmanGEN. JOSEPH DUNFORDwill speak to reporters at 1:30 p.m., for the first time in months. … Secretary of StateMIKE POMPEOwill meet with Saudi Arabian Deputy Defense Minister Khalid bin Salman at 1 p.m.

WAPO: “Cheers! Barr books Trump’s hotel for $30,000 holiday party,”by Jonathan O’Connell and David Fahrenthold: “U.S. Attorney General William P. Barr is planning a holiday treat for his boss. Last month, Barr booked President Trump’s D.C. hotel for a 200-person holiday party in December that is likely to deliver Trump’s business more than $30,000 in revenue.

“Barr signed a contract, a copy of which was obtained by The Washington Post,for a ‘Family Holiday Party’ in the hotel’s Presidential Ballroom Dec. 8. The party will feature a buffet and four-hour open bar for about 200 people.

“Barr is paying for the event himself and chose the venueonly after other hotels, including the Willard and the Mayflower were booked, according to a Department of Justice official. The official said the purpose of Barr’s party wasn’t to curry favor with the president. Barr holds the bash annually and it combines holiday festivities and a ‘ceilidh,’ a party featuring Irish or Scottish music.” WaPo

THE INVESTIGATIONS …

— “Deutsche Bank all but confirms it possesses some of Trump’s tax returns,”by Andrew Desiderio and Brian Faler: “The financial giant was responding to an order from the 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals in New York, demanding information about whether Deutsche Bank and Capital One possess any of Trump’s tax returns subpoenaed by the House Financial Services and Intelligence committees earlier this year.

“If the 2nd Circuit upholds those subpoenas to the two banks,the president’s tax returns and other financial documents could be used as part of the House Judiciary Committee’s impeachment investigation. Last week, Judiciary Committee Chairman Jerry Nadler (D-N.Y.) asked four other House committees — including Financial Services and Intelligence — to share documents with his panel that could aid its impeachment probe. Lawyers for Capital One, for its part, said in a corresponding response that the firm ‘does not believe it possesses tax returns responsive to the subpoenas.’” POLITICO

REUTERS/LYNCHBURG, VA.: “Exclusive: Falwell steered Liberty University land deal benefiting his personal trainer,”by Aram Roston and Joshua Schneyer: “Evangelical leader and prominent Donald Trump backer Jerry Falwell Jr personally approved real estate transactions by his nonprofit Christian university that helped his personal fitness trainer obtain valuable university property, according to real estate records, internal university emails and interviews.

“Around 2011, Falwell, president of Liberty University in Virginia,and his wife, Rebecca, began personal fitness training sessions with Benjamin Crosswhite, then a 23-year-old recent Liberty graduate. Now, after a series of university real estate transactions signed by Falwell, Crosswhite owns a sprawling 18-acre racquet sports and fitness facility on former Liberty property. Last year, a local bank approved a line of credit allowing Crosswhite’s business to borrow as much as $2 million against the property.” Reuters

SQUAD UPDATE … STAR TRIBUNE: “D.C. doctor alleges her husband left her for Rep. Ilhan Omar,”by Jim Spencer and Patrick Condon: “A Washington, D.C., physician alleged in divorce filings Tuesday that her husband, a national political consultant, left her after becoming romantically involved with U.S. Rep. Ilhan Omar, a client of his fundraising business.

“The couple, parents of a 13-year-old son,have been separated since the alleged affair came to light around April 7, according to a family court petition filed in D.C. Superior Court. Dr. Beth Mynett said her husband, Omar consultant Tim Mynett, confessed to her that he was ‘romantically involved with and in love with another woman, Ilhan Omar, a U.S. Representative from Minnesota.’

“A spokesman for Omar declined a Star Tribune request for comment.In a later interview on WCCO television, Omar denied that she is separated or dating outside her marriage. However she cut off further inquiry about the Mynett divorce. ‘I have no interest in really allowing the conversation about my personal life to continue,’ she said.” Star Tribune

2020 WATCH …

— “Bernie Sanders won’t kiss your baby, but he feels your pain,”by Holly Otterbein in Sioux City, Iowa: “Bernie Sanders is getting warm and fuzzy. The Democratic presidential candidate who wouldn’t be caught dead kissing babies or flipping burgers at state fairs has figured out a way to engage in retail politics on his own terms — and there’s evidence it might be working.

“Over the past month, Sanders has held a series of small,share-your-pain town halls and other events, in which he’s asked voters to respond to prompts such as ‘Talk about your health care experience’ and ‘Anybody in the room trying to make it on less than $15’ an hour? …

“The emphasis on intimate, personal interactionswith voters is a departure from the early days of Sanders’ 2020 campaign, when he often spoke uninterrupted for long periods of time at large rallies. When he held smaller town halls, Sanders would sometimes take a few questions from the audience and be done.” POLITICO

THE JUICE …

— KARL ROVEwill go to Louisiana to fundraise for Rep. Ralph Abraham’s (R-La.) gubernatorial campaign.The invite

TRUMP’S WEDNESDAY —The president will have lunch with Interior Secretary David Bernhardt at 1 p.m.

WILD STORY … K.C. STAR: “LaTurner weighs GOP primary against Rep. Watkins after urging from former Gov. Colyer,”by Bryan Lowry: “Kansas Treasurer Jake LaTurner said Tuesday that he will consider dropping out [of] the race for U.S. Senate to instead mount a primary challenge against freshman Republican Rep. Steve Watkins after encouragement by a former Kansas governor.

“Former Kansas Gov. Jeff Colyer took the highly unusual step Tuesdayof calling for LaTurner, a Republican, to drop out of the race for an open Senate seat and challenge an incumbent Republican after Watkins has spent more than a week battling a whisper campaign. …

“The National Republican Congressional Committee said in an emailthat it does not ‘comment on Republican primaries, real or hypothetical.’ … Watkins held a town hall in Topeka Monday following a week of so-far-unsubstantiated rumors circulating about his personal life. On Friday, he pushed back against speculation in political circles that he would resign. Asked by a reporter after the event if he knows where the rumors are coming from, Watkins responded: ‘I don’t know.’” KC Star

— HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT!The NRCC won’t comment on a potential primary of a sitting Republican member of the House.

ICYMI — ANDREW DESIDERIOandSARAH FERRISwith an Irvine, Calif., dateline:“‘You are helping him’: Vulnerable Democrats grilled on impeachment”:“Voters across the country — from California to Pennsylvania to Massachusetts — grilled House Democrats on the potential impeachment of President Donald Trump at a series of events this month, regardless of whether they support or oppose the drastic measure.

“The very first question Rep. Katie Porter received at a town hall here,for example, was where she stood on impeaching Trump. To rousing applause, the vulnerable California Democrat told the crowd that she favors impeachment — even though some worry it would play into the president’s hands. Porter, who flipped a Republican seat in what is becoming a more liberal Orange County, also acknowledged the political dangers of her pro-impeachment stance.

“‘People said, “Well, this might be risky,you might not get reelected,”’ Porter said. ‘I said, “I am here to do what’s right.”’” POLITICO

HOT IN TEHRAN — “U.S. Plans to Open Direct Talks With Iran-Backed Houthis in Yemen,”by WSJ’s Dion Nissenbaum and Warren Strobel: “The Trump administration is preparing to initiate direct talks with Iran-backed Houthi forces in Yemen in an effort to end the four-year-old war, a conflict that has become a volatile front line in the conflict with Tehran, according to people familiar with the plans.

“The U.S. is looking to prod Saudi Arabiainto taking part in secret talks in Oman with Houthi leaders in an effort to broker a cease-fire in Yemen, according to these people.” WSJ

VALLEY TALK — “Former Star Google and Uber Engineer Charged With Theft of Trade Secrets,”by NYT’s Mike Isaac: “Anthony Levandowski was once one of Silicon Valley’s most sought after technologists. As a pioneer of self-driving car technology, he became a confidant of Larry Page, a co-founder of Google, and helped develop the search giant’s autonomous vehicles. Uber wooed him to gain an edge in self-driving techniques. Venture capitalists threw their money at him.

“But on Tuesday … [f]ederal prosecutors charged him with 33 counts of theft and attempted theft of trade secrets from Google.At an arraignment in a federal courthouse in San Jose, Calif., a disheveled Mr. Levandowski, dressed in a blue blazer and dark brown pants and accompanied by his parents, posted $2 million bail and was ordered to wear an ankle monitor after prosecutors argued that he was a flight risk.” NYT

MEDIAWATCH — N.Y. POST’S @LevineJonathan:“Ken Klukowski, a longtime senior legal analyst for Breitbart News, has been hired as a ‘special counsel’ for the Office of Management and Budget. He will report to general counsel Mark Paoletta.”

— Maya Kingwill be the next POLITICO fellow, covering the 2020 campaign on the politics team. She graduated from Howard this spring.

Send tips to Eli Okun and Garrett Ross at [email protected].

SPOTTED:Rep. Eddie Bernice Johnson (D-Texas) meeting last week at a Dallas social gathering with Raja Farooq Haider Khan, PM of Azad Jammu and Kashmir.

TRANSITIONS — Kerry Healeyis joining the Milken Institute as the first president of the Center for Advancing the American Dream, which is slated to open in 2022. She most recently was president of Babson College and previously was Massachusetts lieutenant governor. …Joe Schatzwill be partner and managing principal of cybersecurity strategies and operations at TechCentrics. He previously was chief information security officer at the White House. …Caitlin Brosseauwill be senior director of U.S. public policy at TripAdvisor. She previously was senior director for government relations and public policy at Pandora.

ENGAGED — Bill Russo,deputy communications director for the Joe Biden campaign, got engaged toAlice Muglia,former protocol specialist and advance officer at DoD under Ash Carter, while on a fly-fishing vacation with family in Montana.

WELCOME TO THE WORLD — Sam Wainwright,a resident physician at Mass General, andEmilie Wainwright,a site manager at TNTP, welcomed Josephine Jamie Wainwright on Monday afternoon. The couple met at the New America Foundation.

BIRTHDAY OF THE DAY:Ellen Carmichael,president of the Lafayette Company, is 32.A fun fact about her:“My favorite musical artist is Mark Knopfler, and Dire Straits is my favorite band. I even did a podcast about my love for them on National Review’s ‘Political Beats.’”Playbook Plus Q&A

BIRTHDAYS:Rep. Julia Brownley(D-Calif.) is 67… Sheryl Sandberg is 5-0 … Gary Shapiro is 63 … Alex Skatell of IJR … former Defense Secretary and Sen. Bill Cohen (R-Maine), now chairman and CEO of the Cohen Group, is 79 … R.C. Hammond … POLITICO’s Marty Kady and Caleb Wong … WSJ’s Ken Thomas … Tom Jolly … Pat Pelletier … Robert Greenwald, founder of Brave New Films, is 74 … Morgan Chalfant, White House reporter at The Hill … Hilary Halpern, VP of government affairs at Polaris Consulting … Brian Horn … Ellen Ratner … Jessica Herrera-Flanigan, EVP of government and corporate affairs at Univision Communications … Mallory Blount, director of public affairs at Treasury, is 25 …

… Matthew Swift,chairman, co-founder and CEO of the Concordia Summit … Sarah Carlson Brooke, director of NBC’s “Meet the Press” … Precision Strategies’ Thomas Winslow … Heather Marie Vitale of Sourceree … Jim O’Brien, vice chair of the Albright Stonebridge Group … Connor Ryan … Callie Strock … Ann Marie Jablon … Robert Simpson … Jay Wegimont … Luke Bunting … Luci Arveseth … Abbie Sumbrum … Lindsay Gill … Arlet Abrahamian … Rachael Dollar … Jennifer Cervantes … Bird’s Taylor Bolhack … Carol Kelly … Emma Tomaszewski of Advanced Network Strategies … Ben Halle, press secretary for PPFA and Planned Parenthood Action Fund … Allison Lichter … Tori Stilwell … Kimberly Plumer … Kate Peyton (hat tip: Teresa Vilmain)

Anna Palmer @apalmerdc

Jake Sherman @JakeSherman

View all our political and policy newsletters

#debate #Foreign #Politics #stage

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accio-infinity-stone · 7 years ago

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Personalised Imagine #3 - Newt Scamander

Soooo here’s another personalised imagine. This one is for @omgunicornsarebae. I am so so sorry about how long this took to write. Thank you so much for requesting it and I hope you enjoy it.

If Newt had a sickle for every time his pesky niffler got him into trouble, he swore he’d be rich by now. The troublesome creature had gotten away after seeing a particularly shiny coin roll into an alley. Not just any alley. Knockturn Alley. Newt, of course, had to run after him despite all of his senses yelling at him not to go into the infamously dangerous street. He knew that if he wasn’t there to stop the beast, he would undoubtedly get himself into trouble.

Newt sprinted down the alley after the niffler, wand and case in hand and coat flapping behind him. He finally cornered the bothersome creature at the end of an alley.

“You have nowhere to go now, so just come here.” Newt said, calmly while inching closer. “You’ve got what you wanted, now go back into the case and I can fix this cursed lock so this won’t happen again.” The creature, unsurprisingly, refused to come. Newt huffed silently to himself while he crouched low so as not to look menacing and maintaining eye contact with the animal. The niffler, quite uniquely, responded quite well with constant eye contact. Newt prayed silently that the creature stayed as still as he was now, looking right at Newt and panting heavily.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from somewhere and the niffler took off again. Newt pursed his lips and dashed off after him. After a while of turning around steep corners and avoiding the grasping hands of shifty-looking strangers, Newt saw the niffler run into a dark shop. Stopping right before the entrance, Newt wondered whether this was a good idea. Which it most likely wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to leave one of his beasts in this godforsaken place to be sold for parts.

Taking a deep breath, he entered into the shop, finding it empty. There wasn’t even a counter for a cashier to stand behind, it was simply filled with mysterious looking artefacts. Perhaps this was some sort of galley? Trying to contain his curiosity, Newt kept his steps light on the creaky floorboards as his eyes searched the place. His gaze finally landed on the familiar glossy fur of the niffler. He was trying to lift something particularly shiny.

His shoulders slouching in relief, Newt walked over to the distracted creature. He picked him up from behind and pulled him away from the desired treasure, placing him back into the case after a strict reprimanding. Standing back up again, he took a closer look at what had attracted the niffler’s attention out of so many other options. It was a hand mirror.

As he looked at it more carefully, Newt noticed that it wasn’t particularly shiny, that it was just the reflection against the glass that made it seem so at first. It had quite a plain, wooden frame around the circular glass. He pondered over why it had caught the greedy little beast’s eye. Surely there were other, more jewel studded objects in the room. Newt went to hold the object, but the second he touched it a burning sensation covered his hand, making him yelp in pain. The feeling spread over his entire body, making him crumple to the ground.

Suddenly, the burning disappeared. Releasing a shaky breath, Newt rose with shaky hands. Only to find himself not in the same room as before. He was in a small room with dull blue stalls and strange half cup looking things attached to the walls which were all white. All of Newt’s instincts sharpened as he steadied his wildly beating heart. Has he been kidnapped perhaps? Wherever he was being held, he could get out, he would get out. Newt walked tentatively to the only door in the room, finding it to be open. Slowly creeping it open, he peeked his head out.

He was greeted with the sound of talking and laughter, mixed with the aroma of warm food and drinks. Frowning in confusion, he stepped out slowly, walking towards the sounds. He entered into a large room, filled with people sitting at tables or standing and talking. Some wearing witch and wizard fashion and some wearing what he could only assume was muggle fashion, though he had never seen any muggles wearing what the ones here wore.

No one seemed to take much notice of Newt as he wandered over to an empty table near the back. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. Newt guessed that the mirror he had touched was some portkey that transported him here. Not that he knew where ‘here’ was. A loud voice suddenly called for silence and the chatter slowly dwindled.

There was an air of excitement as a large, round man behind the bar introduced someone called Y/N. Newt watched intently as you walked into the room, a loud cheer accompanying your entrance. Newt’s had to admit, you were quite attractive. He watched curiously as you climbed to stand on the bar, ukulele in hand and short, bright pink hair shining.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Witches and Wizards! I welcome you all to Harry Potter night!” You exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement behind your glasses. A cheer went through everyone in the bar. Newt furrowed his brows confusedly. Who was Harry Potter? “And as every night, we’ll start with a song. Tonight, the song will not be by me.” A series of boos echoed from the crowd. “Oh quiet down, it’s by Jon Cozart and I think you all know it.” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at the crowd. You strummed the first few notes on your ukulele and then the whole bar filled with song. Everyone knew it apparently.

“There once was a boy named Harry

destined to be a star.

His parents were killed by Voldemort,

who gave him a lightning scar…”

The song continued to describe someone named Harry Potter’s life with people called Ron, Hermione, Tom Riddle, Edward Cullen. Dumbledore was also mentioned, leading Newt to believe that perhaps this was a historic song, and if so, why hadn’t he learnt about it in Hogwarts?

For the rest of the night, Newt continued to sit at the back as he watched extraordinary moving pictures, listened to dramatic readings of books, watched as people took part in something called a ‘trivia night’. All these things seemed to be centred around this Harry Potter person. Newt assumed that this was some fictional tale as there was no way he could have not known about this if it was historically true.

Throughout all this, his attention seemed to be drawn to you. He found himself enjoying watching you interact with everyone, a smile constantly on your face. Everyone seemed to brighten when they talked to you, you seemed to be quite outgoing, funny and, quite frankly, adorable.

Newt couldn’t help but smile as he saw how much energy was in such a small body. You were a ball of brightness with your short, pink hair, shining eyes and the ability to make people laugh, if not through your words then through the many silly faces you tended to pull. He still had no idea where he was but Newt felt safe and calm in this space, even though he made no move to interact with anyone. The place seemed to have a welcoming aura.

After a few hours, people started to leave until it was just you, Newt, the bartender and a few other people scattered around at the tables. He suddenly felt his case shake and one of the locks snapped open.

“Oh no you don’t.” Newt muttered as he rested the case on his lap and closed the latch. When he looked back up you were standing before him.

“Wow, you have a brilliant costume! You know, I told them to put on the Fantastic Beasts movie but there wasn’t enough time in the end.” You said, shaking your head. Newt frowned in confusion, opening his mouth to ask what you meant. “May I sit here?” You asked, gesturing to the seat across from him.

“Ah, yes, of course.” He said while looking down at the table. You slid into the seat and leaned forward, pushing your glasses up.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, sticking your hand out. Avoiding your gaze, he reached your hand and shook it.

“Newt Scamander.” He said. A smile grew on your face.

“Right, Newt.” You said, winking at him. Newt was unsure of why his name amused you so much. He decided to brush it off.

“Miss, what is this place?” Newt asked, looking right at you now. You cocked your head slightly.

“You don’t know?” You asked. Newt shook his head. “This is The Snuggly Duckling Bar. Yes, they named it after that bar from Tangled.” You said, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “It’s a fandom bar. Well, I’m sure you could tell. What other bar shows Harry Potter movies, right?” You joked, smiling widely at him. He nodded, pretending to understand. Honestly, he was even more perplexed now. He was pretty sure everyone in the bar were wizards or at least had some knowledge or affiliation with the wizarding world. How else would everyone know about hogwarts, wands, specific spells, etc?

“Yes, well, could you please direct me to Knockturn Alley? Or preferably Diagon Alley?” He asked, making you laugh.

“I’ve never met a cosplayer so into their character. Do you even have some ‘fantastic beasts’ in there?” You said, putting air quotes around ‘fantastic beasts’ and pointing at his case. So many questions swarmed in his head. Where was he? How did you know about his beasts? Why weren’t you taking him seriously?

“I’m sorry, I think I’m lost.” He asked. You pushed your glasses up your nose, a habit you found yourself doing quite frequently.

“You don’t look lost, but if you say you are…” You said, shrugging. “I could help.” Newt looked up at you for a moment, smiling gratefully.

“Thank you. You, see, I’m not entirely sure where I am. My-ah-pet, got away and ran into Knockturn Alley-“ Newt began, not wanting to say outright that he had a niffler, he feared you’d ask how he’d come across one or if he had any other creatures that were technivally illegal to possess. “-he ran into a shop or a gallery of some kind and after getting him back, I touched one of the objects on display. It may have been a portkey of some kind as I found myself here a moment later.”

“Wow, that is quite a story.” You said. Newt nodded, blushing slightly. He couldn’t help but feel flustered as you watched him curiously. “Are you really lost?”

“I’m afraid so.” He said. “If you are unsure of the direction of Diagon Alley, may you point me to your nearest lodging?” He asked. You shook your head, making your pink hair bounce around. The corners of Newt’s lips quirked up slightly at the sight.

“Oh no, you’re not staying in any motel. They’re all crap here.” You said, taking a deep breath. “Against my better judgement, you can stay with me for the night. Or until we figure out how to get you back home.” Newt was hesitant at the thought of staying at a stranger’s home, but he was in no place to reject kindness. He was a skilled wizard so if it turned out you were against him, he was confident enough in his abilities that he could get out of the situation. Although he doubted you meant him harm. Where else would he go? It would only be for a night and then he’d be off. Newt gave you a wide smile.

“I would really appreciate that, thank you.” He said, looking at you in the eyes.

“You’re not a murderer, are you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah- no, I’m afraid I’m not.” He said, smiling amusedly at you. You nodded.

“Just in case you get any funny ideas, I’m sleeping with the door locked and a knife under my pillow.” You said, pointing a warning finger at him.

“I’ll remember that.” He said. “Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

“Well, I can’t exactly say no to you when you’re looking so much like Newt Scamander.” You said. Newt was unsure of what you meant but decided not to comment on it. You were, after all, doing him a great favour. “Right, do you want to go now?” You asked. Newt simply nodded as he stood up. You now had to crane your head to look up at him. “Why is everyone always taller than me.” You mumbled under your breath as you walked through the bar. Newt laughed at your comment.

#fandom bar #personalised imagine #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #fbawtft #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts #hp #Harry Potter #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #newt scamander imagine #fbawtft imagine

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wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey · 7 years ago

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Thanks for the tag @themoonslayer!!

the last

drink: water with lemon in it

phone call: talking to my mom about how I didn’t want a second date with a guy

text message: “OMG that video is amazing!!!”

song you listened to: Not Gonna Die by Skillet

time you cried: tears threatened my eyes? reading a fic by @camsthisky. I wept like a baby? watching Scarlet Heart Ryeo Episode 16 with my mom...you know, the episode where those two people die and that one guy has to kill the other guy...

dated someone twice: nope...three first dates and everytime I was like nah

kissed someone and regretted it: haha yeah no never been kissed

been cheated on: can’t get cheated on if you never have someone to be cheated on by

lost someone special: yes

been depressed: yes

gotten drunk and thrown up: no thank heaven. I’ve gotten tipsy a few times, and one time I was maybe slightly more? it was at a wine tasting at a Ren Faire and it was outside and SUPER hot and I hadn’t eaten in a while and when I walked I felt REALLY weird like the world was not exactly stable and I ended up hanging on my bestie’s arm and giggling at everything she said

three favourite colours

purple

green

probably silver or black

in the last year have you

made new friends: yes :)

fallen out of love: nah

laughed until you cried: maybe? laughed myself silly oh yes

found out someone was talking about you: found out a coworker was getting annoyed with me but the feeling was mutual so *shrugs*

met someone who changed you: Ahn Min Hyuk :D (hey, it doesn’t say fictional characters don’t count) this man is beautiful and sweet and handsome and sarcastic and precious and hilarious

found out who your friends are: just rediscovered the fact that my friends are truly amazing

kissed someone on your facebook list: Nope

general

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life? All of them?

do you have any pets? My family has a black lab named Smokey (middle name O’Reilly, because we are half Irish and we give our dogs middle names, because when you are really mad at them you need to whip out their full names, and three names is better than two) we raised this dog from birth and he is my brother/son/sweetheart and I love him to death and he loves me and it is a beautiful relationship and we cuddle all the time

do you want to change your name? Absolutely not! I love my first name because I was named after St. Monica who is awesome, and also I love having a name that is not as usual and doesn’t have twenty different spellings

what did you do for your last birthday? My friend took me to see Doctor Strange!

what time did you wake up? 9:15 AM

what were you doing at midnight last night? doing my end of shift work at the restaurant I work at every Friday night

name something you can’t wait for: The Last Jedi I need it NOW and I need Ben Solo reconciling with his mom NOW and I need the evolution of Reylo NOW

when was the last time you saw your mum: last Sunday, when we watched Gilmore Girls together :)

what are you listening to right now? the wind blowing the leaves in the tree outside and the ticking of my ceiling fan

have you ever talked to a person named tom? my parents’ elderly neighbor

something that is getting on your nerves: when people say: Kylo Ren is abusive to Rey (newsflash: no, they are enemies, not lovers), when people ignore Tim Drake, when people hate Jason Todd, when people ship the Batbros together like holy heck going through AO3 and seeing all the Dick/Dami fics makes me want to vomit. also please do NOT ship Bruce with his kids ugh

most visited website: “tumblr, unfortunately.” SAME. also AO3

hair colour: dark brown with reddish tints

long or short hair: an inch or two below my shoulders. It is nice for summer but I want it to grow back because I miss making my hair as elvish as possible

do you have a crush on someone? like 35 fictional guys...

what do you like about yourself? I love. I love stories, I love characters who tear my heart out, I love nature and all the little beautiful things like leaves and stars and the smell of corn, I love people, I love my friends and family and would literally die for them

piercings: Five. Two in each ear lobe and one up in the cartilege (is that the helix piercing I can’t recall). I had my naval pierced twice but it migrated out each time :(

blood type: O (+?)

nickname: Gal, ninja, years ago some coworkers called me Moni, my nephews and niece called me Merica for a while after one of them couldn’t pronounce my name :D

relationship status: Single

zodiac: Scorpio

pronouns: She

favourite tv show(s): aha aha. So many. I just started Akayona right now and love it to death

tattoos: Not yet

right or left handed: Right

surgery: never thank heavens

sport: I did bowling in middle school and high school and did Kyokushin karate in college

vacation: favorite? I used to go to Surfside Beach with my family, and on e time I went to DragonCon with my bestie. good times

pair of trainers: huh? like sneakers? I have a pair of Nike and a pair of New Balance for working out or hiking. otherwise I avoid em like the plague. barefoot or flipflops is where it’s at

more general

eating: this is too vague! um ice cream? spaghetti?

drinking: vanilla chai tea, apple cider, Mike’s Hard Lemonade?

i’m about to: go to the gym

waiting for: the Last Jedi. DC to put out their streaming service. Young Justice season 3. the casting of Nightwing, so that I know whether to keep being excited or to rage rage and punch a wall

want: patience and a little more concentration so I can finish my thesis

get married: perhaps some day. Marriage is so beautiful and the idea of loving someone like that is something I would cherish, and I would love having kids, and I also think I want to adopt? But I also want to let things happen according to God’s will and time. If He doesn’t want me to marry it shall be well

career: trying to be a novelist here

which is better?

hugs or kisses: Hugs are the bomb, but kisses are good too

lips or eyes: Eyes

shorter or taller: I like being short but I like guys who are tall. height difference for the win

older or younger: Older or same age I guess

nice arms or nice stomach: ? idk. I am maybe slightly superficial so both? :/ but yeah, hair is probably even more important

hookup or relationship: Relationship for sure

troublemaker or hesitant: is this about me or who I am attracted to?...I am confused

have you ever

kissed a stranger: Nah son

drank hard liquor: Yes, I prefer hard liquor over beer most days...when I even drink...which is like maybe once a month, and like one, maybe two drinks

lose glasses/contact lenses: I lose my glasses every day when I take them off and go shower and then I am running around my room like where the heck?!

turned someone down: Yeah...a couple guys have asked me out who I was just NOT interested in

sex on the first date: No. I think sex is a beautiful, special thing and I want to wait till I get married

Originally posted by animatedtext

had your heart broken: ...yeah

been arrested: haha no. and somehow I even got out of a ticket when I was going 20 over the speed limit in a residential area (i was cruising and not thinking and forgot the speed limit had recently changed)

cried when someone died: yes

fallen for a friend: oh yeah. twice.

do you believe in

yourself: Most days

miracles: absolutely

love at first sight: attraction at first sight, though I do think that some people have the gift of genuinely loving someone very quickly

santa claus: I did till I was like 7 or 8 and then my parents explained they left the gifts under the tree and that we had to keep the idea of Santa Claus in our hearts and that since I was in on the secret I had to be Santa Claus and a secret keeper for my little bros. It was so fun and exciting and joyous

kiss on the first date: I studiously avoid getting kissed on the first date. though it was maybe because I quickly decided I was not attracted to the guy

angels: yes. I believe in them with all my heart and am so grateful to God for them. In particular I love my own guardian angel, who has comforted and encouraged me many times, and I swear is the only reason I have not crashed my car or been in a car crash several times over

other

eye colour: Hazel

favourite movie: Lord of the Rings (all of them), Star Wars (all of them), Harry Potter (all of them) and so many it is impossible to name them all. one of my recent favorites was King Arthur The Legend of the Sword

Well this was really long so I won’t tag anybody but if you wanna fill this out please do so and tag me so I can see it!

#tag games

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nolanfans · 8 years ago

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Christopher Nolan interview about Dunkirk in Premiere (translated by YFR3)

The popular filmmaker, inventor of crazy concepts, who reigns on global entertainment for ten years, is back. But this time, Nolan is naked : without his magic tricks or his theoretical scrolls. Farewell the world of dreams of Inception, the upside down editing of Memento or the black holes of Interstellar. Dunkirk tells the story of a handful of routed soldiers (Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy, Harry Styles ...) stuck on a beach, between the Channel's gray and angry sea and the Germans who fire. A real, brutal, anxiety-provoking and authentic war film. Really ? Naturally, as always with him, it's a little more complicated than that ... "I guarantee you there's no SF," he laughs, welcoming us into the editing room. For its hardcore fans who rewatch frame by frame the two available trailers, to see when the film can twist. No: "Dunkerque will be faithful to events, the reality of history and the reality of places. " Perhaps this is where the most "Nolanian" aspect of the project nests. Some people still wonder if, at the end of the dream of Inception, the spinning top continues or not to turn. The same is true for the Operation Dynamo (code name of the evacuation of May 1940). For some people, Dunkirk's rescue was a victory (340,000 soldiers saved while Churchill was expected ten times less); For others, it was a terrible humiliation ("War is not won with evacuations," declared the same Churchill). This is this weird episode of the phoney war that Nolan chose to tell through the fate of aviators, sailors, soldiers and civilians. A story full of ambiguity, ideal to play with the genre. There's always been in this man a desire desire to refuse the constraints of narrative logic, to explode into a thousand pieces the linearity of storytelling. Whatever the genre he confronts, his cinema is based on an art of rhythm and editing that allows him to deploy his incredible immersive mechanics. And that's what we witness when we get into the editing room at Warner Studios. We see Nolan at work. We see it deconstruct a plan, subtly modify a sound to boost an image and make it indelible (his sense of frame is intact), all with a virtuosity of a killer who knows as well mix formats (prologue mixing 70 mm and IMAX is a visual madness) that learn his job to the most experienced sound engineer. It is this moment that he chose to welcome us and lift the veil (In Premier exclusivity ...) on Dunkirk.

PREMIERE : I was very surprised to see how accurate you were in sound mixing. Can you explain what you were doing?

NOLAN: It's pretty simple in reality. In the room, the editor on the left is dealing with the music of the film. The other on the right the sound effects. And at this stage, we ensure the balance, the mix between these two flows. It’s a very subtle process, but when we add these two elements (music and effects), working on hundreds of sound details, we finally define the tone and cohesion of the film.

(Rest of the interview after the jump)

PREMIERE : I saw you asking for the sound of a bomb to begin a quarter of a second before, or to play a little up the clacking of the boots or the rustle of the uniforms of the soldiers on the beach ... NOLAN : It totally changes the spirit and the energy of a scene. And thus your emotions, what you feel when you’re watching the movie. The aim with Dunkirk is to try to recreate the primitive feeling of terror that struck the soldiers stuck on the beach. And sound is an essential element that make people feel the perceptions of those who were trapped when the bombs fell from the sky. PREMIERE : When I discovered the prologue and the few minutes you worked on, I was struck by the very concrete and factual aspect of the film. The characters are defined by their gestures, their costumes and their sounds. They are reduced to nothing or not much. NOLAN : When I made my research on the period, I realized that the soldiers in Dunkirk were lost. When you read the war accounts, they always tell the horror of a situation. But the accounts of the battle of Dunkirk insist on something else: what prevails, it is not horror, it is impossibility, paradox, misunderstanding. In May 1940, the situation on this beach was Kafkaesque. I compare this to the ultimate bureaucratic nightmare. There are huge queues that stretch out and no one to tell you what to do, where to go, to whom to address ... Nothing to do with the horror of the landing. The feeling that dominated was frustration. PREMIERE : Frustration ? NOLAN : Yes, because it was a very simple situation : the beach where the soldiers were stuck, the sea and the house ("home") just opposite. And the Germans were bombing. The most frightening thing for the people on the mole was to remain on this dam for embark on a ship. Days and days to wait, not knowing if there would be a boat at the end. And once they were on that structure and the bombs fell, no more way to escape. The (East) mole is what immediately fascinated me in this story. I had never heard of this pier. A kilometer long that advances into the sea. 2.5 meters wide. And the boats came along this pontoon. The men tried to put ladders but the tide was so strong that it was very complicated. The story of the people who stayed on the beach is scary.

PREMIERE : How to transcribe this into a movie ? NOLAN : This is the question that I immediately asked to myself: "How to make it feel?” The graphic description was not very interesting. I preferred to make a sensory, almost experimental movie. Without dialogue. The soldiers have no history - at least I don’t tell it. It’s a movie that aims to experience the experience of these characters from the inside. Their fear, their anxiety, their anguish. PREMIERE : When I left the screening of the prologue, two people who accompanied me mentioned Saving Private Ryan. NOLAN : Hmmm ... And? PREMIERE : Well, I get the impression that the comparison is not necessarily so obvious. There was nothing visceral in what I saw ... NOLAN : This is not what I was trying to do actually. Steven Spielberg's movie is a long nightmare, it conveys an anxiety that has nothing to do with frustration or failure logic. It's a biological fear. [Saving Private] Ryan is a film about the body, blood, fear of being dismembered. Fear is physical. Steven was able to create a visceral intensity of the experience of war. Dunkirk doesn’t play in the same category. It’s linked to our sensibilities, but it’s also due to the reality that is told. Steven created the ultimate version of war chaos. I wasn’t on this register.

PREMIERE : How would you define your approach in this movie? NOLAN : It’s a movie with suspense and a race against time. The fear on which I play is more ... intellectual. PREMIERE : Dunkirk seems to accentuate a break in your filmography. It’s a vintage movie, free of any high concept, of your magician’s "tricks". It’s like you’re moving back to a classic and more linear cinema. Despite its SF pitch, Interstellar was already moving in that direction, but this time it seems even more radical. NOLAN : Yes and no. The film is focused on the present, the immediacy of situations. Less on time. I play on different levels of temporality, but for different reasons. Interstellar sought to understand the effect of time on emotions and on human experience. Here, I try to transcribe the present time of the experience. Emotions are compressed. It looks simpler or more linear, but the structure of the movie remains complex. PREMIERE : What do you mean ? NOLAN : I wanted Dunkirk to be told from three points of view. The air, the land and the sea. For the people embarked in the evacuation of May 1940, the events took place on different temporalities. On land, some soldiers stayed for a week on the beach. On the boats, the evacuations lasted a maximum day and if you were flying to Dunkirk from the UK, the Spitfires (fighter planes used by RAF pilots during the war) carried one hour of fuel. To mix these different visions of history, one had to mix the temporal strata. Hence a complicated structure, even if the arc is very simple. PREMIERE : You are telling me that Dunkirk is Inception in May 1940? NOLAN : (Laughter.) No, because there, I wanted the viewer to live this experience not to rebuild it. It's no longer a puzzle.

PREMIERE : Unlike Interstellar or Inception, here we know the end of the story ... NOLAN : Dunkirk tells a series of paradoxical situations. The most obvious, the one that organizes the movie is actually known, but not necessarily by everyone. The army is stuck on this beach and must cross the Channel to go home. Within this global structure, there are others : will a soldier succeed in joining the mole? Will the pilot be able to carry out his mission? And progressively, the movie focuses on suspense sequences that are reduced to a very human dimension. It ‘s a film where the empathy for the characters has nothing to do with their destinies or their stories. My different heroes have no backstories ... The problem is not who they are, or who they claim to be. The only question that counts is : will they get by? Will they be killed by the next bomb while trying to join the mole? Will they manage to avoid being crushed by a boat while crossing ? PREMIERE : Very Hitchcockian as an idea. NOLAN : Totally. Hitchcock managed to make you tremble for a character ,no matter what moral judgment you might have. We are interested in the success or failure of an action at the moment it occurs. Nothing else. Watch Psycho: Anthony Perkins puts the body in the trunk and leaves with the car. It rolls and then starts to worry. Will he be caught? And this anguish, we feel it with him! At that moment, you almost forgot that it's the bastard of the story, that he just killed a woman ... It is the strength of Hitchcock’s cinema : to live the intensity of the present moment , Without having to explain what happened before. It is the principle of Dunkirk, to find the immediate intensity. I did not make a war movie, but a survival, whose energy is controlled by suspense.

PREMIERE : What is the impulse that makes you want to make a movie? Is it an image ? A sound ? A story ? For Dunkirk, how did this happen ? NOLAN : Emma (Thomas, his wife and producer) advised me to read a book on the evacuation of May 1940 telling me that there was perhaps a subject for me. I found it very interesting, but it was not immediate. Gradually, a vision began to pursue me. That of the mole of which I spoke. These soldiers massed on the jetty. I saw in it an elemental image. That's why we put it in the first trailer. It’s an image that I had never seen before and which possesses a metaphorical force, allegorical if you will, that resonates immediately into the unconscious. It has become like a nightmare - you know, these dreams where you imagine running to flee a danger but you can’t move, you can’t run away. This is what I found in all the reports I read about Dunkirk. It's like ... when you're in an airport, you stand in line and the flight is suddenly canceled. As trivial as the comparison may seem, when one experiences this kind of experience, it is extraordinarily frustrating. I was telling you about Kafka : it was from there he should have drawn the source of his novels and especially The Trial. The paradox of bureaucracy, the reality that escapes. The mole is that. Knowing the end of the episode of Dunkirk (the success of the evacuation), when I felt the nightmare that these soldiers could have lived, the idea of linking this frustration and the outcome of the operation, All this created a symbolic power that could make a movie. PREMIERE : It always starts with an image? NOLAN : No. For Interstellar, it was the script. The story imagined by my brother Jonathan. Less the script actually than an idea that was germ in the first part : the relationship between father and child and the idea of studying this relationship on a cosmic scale. For Memento, it was the concept of staging ... It depends. PREMIERE : You were quoting Hitchcock. I wondered to what extent Dunkirk interacts with classical cinema and especially the great British war movies? NOLAN : I rewatched some war movies of the 40s and 50s because of the subject, but from a production point of view, I spent a lot of time seeing silent films. For crowd scenes. The way the extras move, evolve, the way the space is staged, the points of view used. For the storytelling of Dunkirk rewatching Intolerance, Sunrise or even Greed was a very stimulating exercise. I was looking for works on immense scales. What fascinates me about silent films is the way they use geography, the space to tell the story.

PREMIERE : In the prologue, there is this very impressive shot where we see the port from very high. Almost God’s point of view of God. Somewhat like giving the plan of the labyrinth and the rules of the game. "That's where everything is going to play ...". In your movies places often refer to the psychology of a character. NOLAN : Geography is an essential aspect of storytelling, it's true. We tell so many things by anchoring a story in a place... It isn’t by accident that « Heart of Darkness » by Conrad is one of my favorite novels. It’s the purest form of geography and storytelling. Conrad never repeats himself, he sinks gradually into the depths of the human mind. Is it an inward journey or a trip out of oneself ? That's the real question Conrad is asking. And 2001! And Dante! How to tell the trip ? This is the main question of cinema ; In any case the one that fascinates me the most. And when we care about place and geography in its relation to intrigue, then the analogy with the soul and the mind becomes obvious. Dunkirk speaks about a very special place that evokes the Bible squarely. In May 1940, the English were the Jews driven out of Egypt and driven back by the Red Sea. And in a Judeo-Christian civilization it adds a very strong level of mythology. PREMIERE : Did you rewatch the 1958 movie directed by Leslie Norman? NOLAN : No. I didn’t even know its existence before launching the production of Dunkirk. As soon as I began to find out seriously about the events, this movie quickly reappeared. But I didn’t want to rewatch it. One of the reasons why I wanted to tell this story is that I thought it had to be told in a modern way, for the today’s audience. I needed to think about movies that focus on specific situations. Hitchcock, Clouzot ... PREMIERE : Clouzot ? NOLAN : Yes. « The Wages of Fear ». Most of the crew didn’t understand why I was screening them this movie. But it was the one that made the most sense. Pure suspense. Which talks about mechanics, procedure and physical difficulties. Look at the scene where the truck has to go back on the platform and the wheels doesn’t respond anymore ... That's what I had to look for « Dunkirk » ! I wanted to show how you bring a truck on the jetty, what happens when the tires don’t pass, when the wheels no longer respond. Pure physics.

PREMIERE : Process is at the heart of most of your films. It's the fuel of Memento, it's the mechanics of Batman (how a superhero is constructed in a very concrete way) and it's the very subject of The Prestige. NOLAN : That’s right. The process fascinates me, the mechanical and human processes. It was one of my obsessions on Dunkirk. I rewatched Pickpoket and Un condamné à mort s’est échappé, just for that. Bresson details everything, creates suspense with details. Everything is about process, movements. Dunkirk is getting closer to this : dissecting the process to create suspense. The process becomes entertainment itself. PREMIERE : I have the impression that Dunkirk is a laboratory where you have sought a new form to create a show … NOLAN : I looked at how to tell this story in a way ... let's say different. It was important for me in this movie to find a storytelling that avoids or erases all the conventions, all the cliché structures of the Hollywood movies. I love Hollywood movies. I have made it for years. But I wanted to try to work in a way that would not allow me to use those tools. PREMIERE : You were "making Hollywood movies." I find this expression interesting ... NOLAN : I’ve always tried to use Hollywood movies differently. But I like these tools. My favorite filmmakers worked in the Hollywood system. Even at the margin – The Thin Red Line is a Fox movie. Hitchcock, Spielberg, Wilder worked for the system. They showed that it was possible to make masterpieces within the studios. There's nothing better than an adventurous, daring Hollywood movie. It doesn’t happen often, but when I see it, I feel full. Excited. Challenged. More than when I discovered an awesome but more modest film. If a gigantic film provokes me, asks me, makes me feel more intelligent ... this is the best experience I can have in a theater.

PREMIERE : I feel that what you are describing is more rare today. That the studio system no longer offers the same freedom to create. Did you have some difficulty to produce Dunkirk? NOLAN : No. I don’t know. It's rare, but it has always been! Always try to think outside the box. To try new things. PREMIERE : If you had to choose, you would say that « Dunkirk » will be experimental or very classical ? NOLAN : (Smile.) Do not repeat it to the studio: it will be my most experimental film. From far away. But I hope to be subtle in this.

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