two-thirtyammusings
really random fanfics that i write at odd hours
9 posts
i haven’t decided if i’ll take requests yet, but i’m not necessarily opposed :)
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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EMMA WATSON & RUPERT GRINT  RETURN TO HOGWARTS (2021)
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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Fearless Tour (backstage)
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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Emma (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde + Faceless
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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hello! i promise i haven’t fallen off the edge or the earth :) i’m currently transitioning from high school to college, so i’ve been pretty swamped. that being said, i have a whole slew of fics lined up! they just need to be edited a bit more. i’ll be starting an extremely out of order narnia series with a few oc’s soon!!
in the mean time, here’s a fun pic of flo :D
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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nothing warms my heart like laurie referring to amy as his wife every five seconds after they got married he's so in love with her
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two-thirtyammusings · 3 years ago
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HUFFLEPUFF: “… faith is like love; when you want it you can’t find it, and you find it when you least expect it.” –George Sand (The Story of My Life, vol. 1)
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two-thirtyammusings · 4 years ago
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seaside
she glanced at laurie desperately, searching his eyes for the amusement he often had when she was young and bratty and stupid. but there was no amusement, only understanding. that understanding was something that she could never get used to, and it made her shiver each time she found it.
summary: a more reflective, detailed look at laurie and amy’s budding relationship in europe.
a/n: welcome to my blog! i have lots of random fics in my notes app, so i’d thought i’d share, just in case anyone happened to enjoy it :)
the tide pulled itself in as the pair grazed the shoreline. they strolled silently, eyes fixated on the rocky sand. amy made it a habit to pause every couple of steps, yanking treasures from the sand like a greedy toddler with grubby fingers. her gaze finally shifted from the collection of granulated stones and shells at her feet to the rough, choppy water. the ocean seemed to pull at her heartstrings with every crash, the salty mist reversing the clock, taking her back to a time of golden sun and kites and pastel ribbons. but there was no sun, no kites, and no ribbons. the sky was blanketed in grey, reflecting on the sea. it was a vast expanse of nothing. she figured that she could recreate that exact scene by simply draping her brush in one bland color.
and suddenly she was feeling that yearning again. the yearning for her first loves. she missed her sisters more than she knew she could. that yearning coursed through her veins, personifying itself in a twisted expression of disdain. laurie averted his eyes from the sand, studying her face for a few minutes before quipping,
“why the long face? was that rock not everything you hoped it would be? you know ames, not everything can be as beautiful as you”
he bowed half hazardously, bumping into her side. she giggled, as she’s always done around him, shaking her head and tossing the mundane stone she held back into the water. they walked on for a few minutes before amy finally broke the silence,
“i miss them,” she murmured, “i didn’t realize that being away this long would suck so much. and no one’s told me how beth is. it’s like —it’s like they think i can’t handle it or something” she glanced at laurie desperately, searching his eyes for the amusement he often had when she was young and bratty and stupid. but there was no amusement, only understanding. that understanding was something that she could never get used to, and it made her shiver each time she found it.
“i think,” laurie began, “i think that they only reason they won’t tell you anything about beth is because of beth.”
amy scoffed, dropping her eyes, in search of another worn out pebble or halved shell,
“is that another one of your riddles?”
“no,” laurie smiled. her stubbornness was oddly pleasing to him. it wasn’t the haughty, brazen sort of stubbornness he was used to. the kind jo championed and he also, regrettably, exhibited. no, amy’s stubbornness was a quiet kind. one that was resolute, but had no neediness to it. this form of stubbornness seemed so out of character for the extravagant little girl she once was. he marveled at how much she had changed since their childhood in concord. somehow europe, arguably the most pompous, garish, vain location on God’s green earth, humbled her. laurie found himself staring at her again, rapidly gathering what his next sentence was meant to be,
“c’mon you know that way bethy is. she wouldn’t want you to worry. not when you’re halfway across the world and virtually helpless—“
amy raised her eyebrows,
“you think i’m helpless? clearly you haven’t met me yet.”
laurie hesitated, careful to lace his words with some level of decorum,
“no, okay, of course i don’t think you’re a helpless person. but you have to admit it ames, no amount of stress here can change what happens there. beth might not be some brilliant mind, but she’s not an idiot.”
amy nodded, pursing her lips. her eyes were trained on the ground, and she deftly snatched up another relic. this time, it was a shell, the kind that seemed to swirl and swirl endlessly. she examined the shell with an artist’s eye, scouring each inch of its sovereign design. then, with an hum of contentment, she slipped the object into her jacket pocket.
“how many more of those things are you gonna steal?” laurie teased.
“as many as i can,” amy jabbed at the boy’s side, “and besides, it’s not stealing unless we’re in a national park or something.”
“okay, okay” laurie threw his hands up in defeat, “so it’s not stealing. but, why are you collecting all this crap anyways? is it for a piece or something?”
“nah,” amy kicked at the sand, her demeanor slowly loosening, “i just collect them to look at ‘em at i guess” she shrugged, scouting for more of nature’s knick knacks.
“that’s just like you,” laurie mused, “seeing the beauty in everything.”
“oh don’t worry,” amy snorted, “i’m still that old vanity you once knew. trust me, it’s never that deep, i just like pretty things.”
“yeah,” laurie sighed, “yeah i’m not so sure about that.”
“about what?” amy stopped dead in her tracks, looking at him with those wide doll-like eyes he was certain she had lost in paris.
“i’m not so sure that you’re still that old vanity,” laurie’s lips twitched upwards into not-quite-a-grin, “though i’m also not so sure if you were ever an old vanity.”
“yeah right,” amy scoffed, though she knew, in her heart that he was right. the pair resumed their walk, only commenting on the patterns of sediment or the peculiar actions of nearby gulls. laurie noted how content they were together. they often didn’t need words to communicate. it’s as if they were of one mind. this type of silence was something he hadn’t ever enjoyed. not even with jo.
laurie shuddered at the thought.
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