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lindsey-laufeyson · 2 years

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Texts from Tom Hiddleston

Masterlist

31. Okay

Trigger warnings: mentions of miscarriage, blood, hospital.

Tom woke to a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and turned his head to see that it was his sister. “Hey,” she whispered, not wanting to wake you. “How is she?”

Tom looked at you, sleeping soundly next to him. “Okay,” he replied as he softly stroked your arm. “All things considered.”

“And you?” Emma asked him.

He carefully began climbing out of the hospital bed. “I’m just relieved that she’s alright,” he answered.

The movement on the bed caused you to stir. “Tom,” you mumbled looking around for him. When you saw Emma, you jumped and your heart monitor started beeping faster. “Emma! I can explain!”

“Y/n, it’s okay,” Tom tried to calm you as he sat back down on the bed and placed his hand on your back, rubbing gently. “She figured it out at the gala last night.”

“Fuck. Really?” You asked, looking at Emma.

She scrunched her face apologetically, “It was kind of obvious with the way you two were looking at each other.”

You leaned your head back and put your hand over your face in embarrassment. Then you remembered what had happened just before you blacked out. Your head shot back up. “Oh shit. Jill. She knows now too! I’m completely fucked!” Your heart was racing, and that goddamn monitor let the whole room know it.

“You don’t know that,” Tom quickly interjected. “Chelsea was going to talk to Jill last night and try to reason with her.”

As if on cue, Chelsea walked in carrying flowers. “Hey, how are you feeling?” She asked you as she set the flowers down and sat next to you, opposite of Tom.

You were too panicked to answer her, but instead started firing questions at her. “Did you talk to Jill? Am I fucked? I've been sacked, haven’t I? Can I at least say goodbye to the kids when I collect my things?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Chelsea stopped you as she grabbed your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “You haven’t been sacked. I explained to Jill that you were in a relationship with Tom, but you broke it off in order to keep your job.” Tom cleared his throat and looked down at the ground while Emma fidgeted awkwardly next to him. Chelsea was focused on you, though. “Jill said she'd let you off with a warning as long as the two of you didn’t get involved again.” She looked at you with concern in her eyes, knowing this wasn’t exactly great news.

You were silent for a moment. So much had happened in the last twelve hours and you had barely processed any of it, and yet, you realized the decision was simple. Tears fell from your eyes, in mourning for the job you loved so much but needed to finally let go of.

Tom watched you as he, too, processed what Chelsea had just said. He thought about all the times you were forced to make this decision before; how hard it was on you, and how much harder it must have been when he would try to convince you otherwise. Last night made him realize he would do anything for you, and then he remembered something you had said to him the morning after your first true night together.

“You have to let me go if you expect to keep me.”

“Tom, I—“ you started, but he interrupted you.

“Y/n, it’s okay.” he said as calmly as he could. “I know how much you love your job and I promise I will never get in the way of that again. You have my word.”

Your heart sank. He was over you. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he didn’t want to be with you anymore; that perhaps what you had mistaken for lingering feelings he had for you was merely guilt for getting you pregnant, and pity for your miscarriage. You felt so stupid for assuming otherwise, and you were actually relieved when the doctor came in to speak with you.

“I should go,” Emma said. “But I’m so glad you’re okay, Y/n. If you need anything, even just someone to talk to, let me know.” She turned to Tom. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” Tom nodded and she left.

“Tom, you can go too,” you told him without looking at him. “I’ll be fine.”

He looked at you, surprised. “Are you sure? I can give you a ride home.”

“I was kind of thinking Chelsea could drive me.” You looked at Chelsea. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, babe,” she replied. You didn’t see it, but she shot Tom an apologetic look.

“Okay, just please don’t hesitate to call or text if you need anything,” he said as he grabbed his jacket.

You still couldn’t look at him. You didn’t want his guilt or his pity. You swallowed hard as more tears fell down your face. “I’ll be fine,” you repeated, and with that, he left.

The doctor cleared her throat, clearly sensing the tension, then proceeded to go through your discharge instructions. The pregnancy, combined with the blood loss, made you extremely anemic, so she would send you home with some iron supplements, and you were to continue to rest at home for at least another 24 hours, and refrain from strenuous activity for two weeks. She also told you that you shouldn’t have sex for two weeks either. That won’t be a problem, you thought.

Finally, she informed you that because they had to remove the ruptured Fallopian tube, your chances of getting pregnant again naturally were cut in half, but you could choose to have the eggs from that ovary frozen, just in case. All you could think about though was how the only person you ever wanted to have a baby with didn’t want you anymore, so you simply nodded and said you’d think about it.

Once the doctor was finished, she handed you your supplements along with a brochure about coping with a miscarriage. You thanked her, and she and Chelsea left you to get dressed. When you were done, you met Chelsea in the hallway and you both walked out to her car in silence.

When you arrived at your house, Chelsea offered to stay, but you waved her off. “I think I need to be alone for a while,” you told her. “I’m probably mostly just going to sleep anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “A lot of shit just happened and no one expects you to deal with it all on your own.”

“I know. I appreciate that, Chels,” you told her, touching her arm affectionately. “Go home. Get some rest. I promise I’ll let you know if I need anything, okay? I love you.”

She wrapped you in a tight hug. “Love you too.”

—————————————————————

TFTH tag list: @darkacademicfrom2021 @lokiprompts @blackwidownat2814 @immersed-in-mischief @anonymousfiction211 @naniky @stars-and-moondust7 @d1a2n389 @maevetriesart @ice-queen-of-music @donttouchmylaevateinn @likeitloveitblogit @high-functioning-lokipath @tiredmamamac @owldwagitoutofyou @vampire7595 @1marvelnerd3000 @fromasgardandback @pescadoavocado @nadderlover1 @asgardianprincess1050 @apine7 @elenaysusneuras @sleepdeprevedswede @mochie85 @slpnbty2001 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @caleighhiddleston @sleutherclaw @geekwritersworld @violethaze @sweetberry47 @huntress-artemiss @thedistractedagglomeration @kbakery @dryyoursaltyoceantears

#tom hiddleston #original content #texts from tom hiddleston #tfth #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston imagine #text story #tw!miscarriage #tw!blood

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minisugakoobies · 4 months

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7, 15 & 18 for EOY, sunshine 🧡

Lokie my beloved! (I have broken into the champagne already, so apologies if I am too schmoopy) 💕

7. Favorite actor of the year

Toss-up between Greta Lee (loved her in Russian Doll but she absolutely KILLED me in Past Lives) and Tom Hiddleston (Loki season 2 was up and down for me but that finale, goddamn)

15. What's a bad habit you picked up this year?

I gave an answer to this already but honestly this was a terrible year for me so I can probably think of another… I spend way too much time mindlessly scrolling when I could be writing or doing other productive things. Need to stop doing that.

18. A memorable meal this year?

Has to be any of the meals I had with tumblr moots! There were several in Chicago with different moots and one with @yeontan-my-love back home - would very much like to do that with you and @minttangerines before an Ateez concert (and anyone else who wants to join)!

Send me an end-of-year ask!

#year end asks #ask games #lovely moots #kiestrokes

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lucifers-horror-harem · 6 months

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Don't feel embarrassed, I have Tom Hiddleston as a fc for one of my OCs [specifically him in Crimson Peak]. I always want to reblog pics of him to the blog for that WIP but I feel sheepish doing so because... y'know... 😅 - Coffee

First of all Hiddleston in Crimson Peak is such a Lewk that I love the idea of that specific version being a face claim so good on u. And 2 normally I don't worry so much but my Loki Phase TM was such an embarrassing time for me and I was so fixated on him that I'm just like omg I cannot let the cool mutuals know I fell for a tumblr sexyman,,,,,,,,, LMAOOOO

But uhhhhhhhhh im not crazy right this look and the fucking scarf/suit combo is so goddamn hot right??????

#i wanted a replica of the scarf when i was younger I'll admit it LMAO #asks

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colorsunimaginable · 2 years

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the spare // chapter thirty-six // death eater! tom hiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 3.5k

warnings for this chapter: HEAVY WARNING FOR ANGST, STERILIZATION, AND VIOLENCE AGAINST POV CHARACTER

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Thirty-Six:

I’ve felt a lot of pain in my life. I’m not talking about cuts or bruises, getting stabbed, getting Crucio’d, or carved into with a goddamn steak knife. I’m talking about the other kind of pain. I thought that after losing Sam, nothing could be worse than that.

But the universe just loves proving me wrong, doesn’t it?

The moon is really bright tonight, casting enough light for me to quickly find the rocky shore. When I had early tried this morning, there’d been nothing. I hold my hand out towards the stick just under the water’s surface.

I close my eyes, my head tilting back, trying to focus on how I’m feeling. The metaphorical knife in my chest is still digging around, making every breath a struggle. The adrenaline rush from the anger had quickly faded and I feel a fresh batch of tears pooling in my eyes. It still hurts so much that I have trouble feeling anything else, trouble concentrating on what I’m trying to do. I force myself to take deep calming breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

When I’m ready to try the levitation charm, I open my eyes and focus on it. Within seconds, the stick shoots out of the water, flying up so high it disappears in to the darkness and I can only hear rustling tree branches from above. I concentrate a little more and it falls back into sight. It hovers just above the water until I release it and let it sink.

I feel no relief or happiness at having my magic back and the only person I can blame is myself.

Not ready to go back inside, I sit on the ground. It’s cold and slightly damp, but I use a heating charm to make it bearable.

I hold out the palm of my hand and whisper, “Lumos.”

A white, misty ball of light forms from a pinhole to about the size of a golf ball. It hovers over my hand and as I move my palm around, my fingers play with its misty trails. I remember Professor Higgins always being fascinated by how wand-centered spells appeared when I casted them. This illumination spell was one for instance. Typically the light comes from the tip of a wand, but without it, it can just appear right in the palm of my hand.

When I grow tired of holding it, I toss it out onto the creek. It hovers right over the water, putting glimmering sparkles in its reflection.

As I watch it, the momentary numbness holding back my tears fades. My head falls into my hands and I let out a sob.

The saddest part about all of this is that I’m not even really mad at him. This is what I’d asked for and this had been my goal. Thomus made me no promises. He made it very clear that it would be meaningless for him.

And you know what? Sure, I can believe that. To him, it would be just two consenting adults having sex. A conclusion to weeks of tension and build up, ages of taking shots at his grip on his ‘control’. What’s that phrase? I’m just two holes and a mouth.

I think if it had been just that, just the two of us finally giving in, then maybe I’d be okay. I could go on and pretend that it was meaningless. Pretend that being vulnerable and close to him like that didn’t make me realize I more than just care about whether he lives or dies. I had enjoyed flirting with him, having meals with him, getting to know more about him. I would have been satisfied knowing that my first time was with someone I cared about. At the very least, I’d known he found me attractive.

But wow, did his admission pull the rug out from under me.

I pull the empty vial out from the hoodie pocket and stare at the label. He really needed a lust potion to fuck me? It’s just so confusing and hurtful because he lead me to believe that he liked my body. Did I imagine all the times he’d just stared at me? What about when he told me I was beautiful? Is what he said about proximity and isolation really true?

I sniffle and start crying again, utterly distraught. Everything that made me believe that maybe he wouldn’t be a bad option for my first time is a fucking lie now. He made me feel wanted and desired, and I’d been foolish enough to trust him. I trusted a fucking Death Eater. I’d been lured in during our conversations about ourselves. From the shit about his mom, Dobby, how he’d practically been groomed by Bellatrix and everyone around him had just let it happen. He’d seemed interested in me, too. How did anyone become such a good fucking liar?

What’s almost worse, is that my efforts have been for nothing. He doesn’t find me attractive. He only fucked me because of that stupid inspection happening in the morning. Now there’s going to be no way I can keep him home long enough to make a difference for the Order.

I’m just the world’s biggest idiot, and I only have myself to blame for wanting something from him that I could never have.

~*~

I stay out by the creek all night, doing some little bits of magic or other. I can’t sleep, even though I try, all curled up into a ball.

I go back to the cottage just when the light is starting to break, and find Thomus in the kitchen, staring into a freshly brewed cup of coffee. At my entrance, he looks up at me, a bit startled.

“Were you out there all night?” he demands, bracing his hands on the edge of the island counter.

My eyes are dry and tired and I have to narrow them in order to see him clearly. “You can stop pretending like you care,” I say, my voice scratchy and monotone. My throat hurts from all the crying I’d done.

He’s glaring at me, but he also looks tired. I wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, I start to go upstairs. Before I can leave, he holds out his hand. It’s the suppression potion.

I feel my shoulders sag when I let out a silent, frustrated sigh. I take the few steps to grab it from his hand, but instead of taking it, I grip it and his fingers tightly and look him in the face.

“What was all that talk about control for?” I ask. “What was the point if you didn’t actually find me attractive?”

His glare is sharp, his jaw grinds before he speaks. “I told you, the proximity and isolation had my rationality all fucked up.”

The curl of my mouth feels vindictive. “So did you know the whole time you didn’t actually want me or did it just take some post-nut clarity for you to realize that?”

Thomus sneers at me. “I told you that I shouldn’t have wanted you. I knew that it was wrong.” He leans closer, my grip on the vial and his fingers is so tight they’re starting to feel numb. “I knew I needed to fuck you out of my system and the lust potion ensured that I did.”

“So if I were to get all dolled up in your favorite fucking color in some skimpy little dress, you’d feel nothing?” My chest is starting to shake with hurt and I’d use Occlumency to get me through the rest of this conversation if I wasn’t so wrapped up in it.

He blinks, his expression calm, controlled, and cold. “Why would I feel anything looking at an ugly mudblood pig?”

I flinch at his words, immediately pulling my hand and the vial out of his grasp. My chest shudders with the effort to not start sobbing. I turn away from him, unstopping the vial and tipping it up into my mouth.

“Take the dress on the chair,” he says from behind me. I don’t look at him when I take the plain grey dress off the kitchen chair and put the vial on the table. I barely make it up to my room before I can’t hold back my tears anymore.

~*~

I take as long in the shower as I possibly can, trying desperately to cry myself out. Even after holding a cold washcloth to my face, my eyes remain red and puffy. I wait around in my towel long enough that my hair starts to dry before I even get dressed.

A few minutes before 7:30, I go downstairs, a little taken aback to see that all of the furniture had been removed. The carpet has deep grooves and marks, clear darkened pathways around where the furniture used to be. I stand in front of the bannister, my fingers fidgeting nervously in front of my stomach, and I wonder if Thomus will let me deep clean the carpet before he puts everything back.

Voices come from beyond the front door, and moments later, Thomus is entering with Dolohov and a young Healer. The room suddenly feels extremely small with four people in it, especially one as big and hulking as Dolohov.

As the Healer conjures an exam table, Dolohov takes in the room, disgust curling at his mouth. I move my focus to the fireplace, keeping everyone in my peripheral vision.

“Sure is a downgrade from the Manor, isn’t it, Malfoy?”

Thomus shrugs. “It’s a roof over my head and a kennel to keep the dog in, so I’m not going to complain.”

Dolohov snorts. “No collar and leash this time?”

“There’s no need,” Thomus replies, nonchalant. “I have her thoroughly house-trained.”

“Damn,” the other man dramatically sighs. “Was kinda hopin’ she’d hump my boot like a bitch in heat just so I could fuck her with it.”

My throat tightens like a vice and I’m gripped with fear. It’s been such a long time since I’d worried about my safety in Thomus’ presence. It’s definitely not a feeling I missed.

“It’s not as great as you would think,” Thomus says, his arms resting across his chest. “Besides, I don’t believe we’d have time for that. You have to visit my nephew this morning as well?”

“I volunteered to make sure that golden cunt is getting used instead of sitting on a pedestal,” Dolohov chuckles. “No offense to your precious nephew, of course.”

“Of course,” Thomus says placidly.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” Dolohov says. The Healer steps toward me, invading my sight of the fireplace, holding a hospital gown. “Don’t worry about that thing. What she’s wearing is fine. On the table mudblood.”

“What is it that you’re checking for again?” Thomus asks as I move to the table. I keep my gaze on the Healer’s pretty face, her eyes sympathetic and smile kind.

“Don’t bother talking to her. Their lots been silenced for these visits.”

“What for?”

“It’s their fault we have to do this at all. Not all the Lots were properly sterilized.”

The table is cold on my back, my hands ball into tight fists at my side. I try my best to reassure myself. Once they find out I’m one of those Lots, what’s the worst that can happen? They fully sterilize me? Being pregnant was always one of those things that viscerally terrified me. If the time ever came that I was ready to be a parent, the plan was always to adopt.

And I’m not a virgin anymore, so I have no idea what could possibly go wrong.

The Healer pulls out her wand and casts the Virginity Detection spell. A warm humming spreads across my body, starting at my head and toes, meeting in the center of my belly. It stops and nothing happens.

Without needing to be told, the Healer taps her wand on my left hip and a dim red light appears at the end of her wand. She does my other hip and the light turns green.

I take a deep breath and glance at Thomus. His impassive gaze is on me briefly before it darts to Dolohov.

“Well well well,” Dolohov smirks, turning to Thomus. “Now how come she’s not pregnant? If you’ve fucked her good and plenty like you’ve said?”

Thomus’ eyes bounce from me to Dolohov, clearly unsure of how to answer.

“Run a pregnancy cast, girl,” he orders the Healer. She waves her wand over my abdomen, the misty lights over it instantly turning red. I wanna smack the smug grin off of Dolohov’s face.

“Got any answers for me yet, Malfoy?”

Still, nothing comes out of Thomus.

My heart racing, I sit up, my feet dangling over the edge as I turn to look at them. They have a staring contest until I speak, then their eyes are on me.

“I’m on birth control,” I say simply.

Dolohov’s eyes narrow and he turns back to Thomus. “You’ve been giving her potions?”

“He didn’t know,” I say before he can speak. “It’s No-Maj birth control.” At Dolohov’s confused face, I clarify. “Muggle contraceptive. It’s a piece of plastic sitting in my uterus that prevents me from getting pregnant or having periods. It’s good for another four years still.”

My eyes widen when I realize I should not have fucking said that last part.

Dolohov knows it, too. “So it’s temporary,” he states, then smiles broadly. “So take it out.”

My eyebrows snap together. “Um,” I hesitate. “I can’t. I don’t have the right tools.”

He turns his eyes to the Healer, who quickly shakes her head and shrugs. She doesn’t know how to either.

“So there’s nothing to worry about?” Thomus asks, looking directly at me. My eyes meet his and I want to shrink and hide under his strangely intense gaze. I quickly look down and nod.

“Hold on, you’re just going to take her word for it?” Dolohov asks, clearly shocked.

“I feel as if my hands are tied, Dolohov,” Thomus says. “I have no reason to believe that what she says is a lie when the evidence –“

“Evidence doesn’t mean shit to his lordship,” Dolohov fires back. Thomus snaps his mouth shut. I notice Dolohov covertly pull out his wand. My eyes jump to Thomus, who doesn’t seem to have noticed. “The Dark Lord himself tasked me with ensuring all the mudbloods are properly sterilized.” He whips his cruel eyes to me, smirking again. “The Dark Lord requires a more permanent solution.”

As he raises his wand towards me, I only have time to stare at him in confusion before he says, “Accio –“

I’d imagine the closest real life experience I can compare this feeling to is like going into an MRI with a bunch of metal in your body. I’d imagine.

My IUD doesn’t hesitate to pull and tear and rip out of my uterus, slicing through anything that gets in its way. I don’t feel the pain at first. I think I scream just because of the shock. When I look down, my stomach is drenched with blood seeping from a tear under and just to the side of my belly button. I look up to see Dolohov’s smug sadistic grin and Thomus’ horrified expression.

I feel myself start to sway and the Healer braces me, helping me back down on the table. Then the shouting starts and I twist my head up to watch. Thomus has drawn his wand, pointed right at Dolohov.

Dolohov is faster, spitting out a jinx that Thomus has to dodge in the small room. He fires one back before turning his wand to the Healer.

“Heal her!” he yells. I can’t see what the Healer’s doing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s torn between the two men. In between hexes and jinks, Dolohov is throwing threats at her. Thomus takes advantage of the distraction and stuns him. “I said fucking heal her!”

The Healer immediately starts working and I don’t have the strength to keep focus any more. The last thing I see is Thomus grabbing Dolohov by the collar and shouting at him. Something about damaging property, I think.

~*~

I wake up to the worst cramps of my life. They immediately make me toss and turn my body, anything to try to relieve the pain. Someone’s holding my hand, trying to prevent me from moving.

“Melisa, my dear, you can’t move just yet,” I don’t recognize her voice immediately. When I open my eyes, her pretty blond head comes into focus. It’s Narcissa. My vision must be hazy because I think I see tears in her eyes. I blink and toss my head, trying to figure out where the fuck I am.

The plush bed feels familiar, the scent unmistakably cedar and pine, but the windows are in the wrong place. I throw my head up, then back down when I see Thomus standing by the door, leaning against the wall.

“I need to get out of here,” I mutter breathlessly. I pull my hand out of Narcissa’s grasp and yank the comforter off of me. Somehow I get enough momentum to swing my legs over and push my body up. Quickly I’m on my feet, but need to brace a hand on the wall as I feel immediately light headed. Luckily I notice Thomus immediately jumps forward to help me, and I raise my hand up in time. My voice is harsher and stern. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

I can’t focus on anything right now other than the pain and getting back into my own bed. With deep breaths and one step at a time, I clamber to my room, bracing and leaning on anything I can in the bathroom along the way.

In my room, I rip the offending duvet off of the bed and onto the floor, along with any pillows I know he touched. Climbing into bed, I lie on the side that doesn’t hurt as much. Someone put me in a long nightgown and I’m forced to hike it up so I can move around without restriction.

I hazily open my eyes to see Narcissa coming into the room, Thomus a ghost on her heels.

“What’s the verdict Doctor Malfoy?” I ask.

She sits on the edge of the bed, taking my hand again and squeezing. As she looks down at me, her eyes are unmistakably sad.

“Oh my dear, I’m so sorry,” she whispers. Her sincerity and hesitancy cause tears to flood my own eyes. That and the fucking pain in my abdomen.

I look over to Thomus. “I could use some of those drops of yours. What was that spell? It started with an O… or was it an L?”

He doesn’t respond. I’m only seeing his face upside down, so I’m having a hard time reading him.

“Mippy is on her way with a special pain potion,” Narcissa says, bringing my eyes back to her.

“Good,” I choke out. “’Cause this fucking sucks.”

“What do you remember?” she asks.

“Mrs. Malfoy, I know what happened,” I tell her plainly. “Just tell me, do I have to pee into a bag for the rest of my life?”

She looks a little confused, but understands I’m going for levity. “No,” she says, patting my hand. “It didn’t hit your bladder at all.”

“Fantastic. I – “

“You can’t have kids, Melisa.” We both look up at Thomus. Well, I glance. His hands are in his pockets. I think I see blood on his pants. My blood? “It tore through your uterus and right through the other tube.”

For once, I don’t think he’s trying to tell me this because he’s trying to scare me or make me feel bad. He’s trying to rip off the band-aid.

“Thomus,” she chastises.

“She doesn’t need to be babied, Cissa.”

My free hand flaps lazily at Thomus. “No, no, she can baby me.” I’m suddenly overcome with the stress and fear and emotion of the day and I curl into where she sits on the bed. Her hand caresses my cheek and I feel her wiping at my tears. My lip trembles, my voice wavering pathetically. “I miss my mom.”

Narcissa leans down to place kisses on my temple as I cry, murmuring soothing words. She lets me cry until we hear pops in the room. I’m sniffling and hiccupping loudly when we look up. Thomus isn’t in the room anymore.

“Mippy has come with the pain potion for miss!” Mippy chirps. She’s holding several little potion bottles in her arms. Narcissa helps her put them on my bedside table, and prepares one for me. Excited by the prospect of feeling numb, I find the energy to push myself up enough to drink it.

Within moments, I’m sinking away into sleep.

Note: Starting with this chapter I will be using community labels, so please be advised. Everything will be linked to the masterlist.

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tori-artemis · 1 year

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Thank you, @iamanartichoke for the asks! Writing this all out kind of made my day. 💜💜💜

Alright, so here we go:

9. Worst part of canon:

The fact that nothing ever is fully explored, omg! Like we see Loki being shocked and repulsed when he learns about his heritage, right, we see him almost physically recoil at the sight of his arm turning blue, we see him hesitate right when he's about to reach for Odin, bc he's afraid his touch will hurt him. So we know he has issues with this fact about himself, he's bothered by the fact that he's Jotun, and then several films later and... nothing. This is never really touched on again. Which is a shame, bc there's so much angst and character potential here!

And it keeps happening, like we see Loki fall into the void, we see he's still alive but seemingly roughed up at the end Thor 1, we see him in Avengers looking near-feral and clearly not well, but then those experiences of his are never explored, never even fully acknowledged, and IDK, it just bugs me.

(Also this isn't even necessarily about Ragnarok solely, bc I kinda include The Dark World here too. As much as Tom Hiddleston acted the hell out of his scenes, and he certainly had these things in mind during his performance, and as decent as the writing was overall, the fact that this was never mentioned, or brought up, or Thor never bothered to ask or they never had an argument where this info just spilled out... it just frustrates me, y'know. Like I would've actually enjoyed Dark World a lot more if these things had been explored in a meaningful way, or even just at all, but yeah. I'm not hating on the film, it's not the worst but I'd be lying if I said that I loved, or even really liked it, bc... well yeah.)

10. Worst part of fanon:

That Loki is the liarist liar ever, who ever liared his way into lying? Or that he's Stabby McBackstabber, or Traitor McGee or whatever. Mr "Power Hungry for a Throne" wants his power fixation and is fucking shit up bc he can - and bc he's apparently turned into goddamn Littlefinger from Game of Thrones and he's just climbing that chaos ladder, I guess. Tbf this is more the MCU/marvel fanon/misinterpretation of him, verses Loki fandom fanon in general, but I still see it and it's annoying. I guess if I had to pick fanon from the fandom tho... maybe it's less the fanon and more the extremism of certain fanons? Like - Loki's a good person at heart, he's loyal, he deeply loves and cares for his family (and his people/realm), we all know this, but then when that's the only thing that ever gets applied to his decision making, when you take away his more "unsavory" qualities (particularly his envy and resentment of Thor - understandable as those feelings may be, they're still, well, pretty dark emotions y'know), then you just strip a character of all his nuance and turn him into a one note saint, and those are never fun. He's basically reduced to being just as shallow as Traitor McGee over there, just from an opposite viewpoint. I love him more when he's human and flawed, he doesn't have to be a perfect saint for me to love him as a character.

(Like yes - Loki is perfect, but in that he's perfectly imperfect, if that makes any sense.)

22. Part of canon that you love that everyone else ignores:

I'm not sure tbh? I'm like the last person to give these great meta-insightful answers bc I kinda just get all my information from other meta writers. Like I never actually analyzed any of the Thor films - or any MCU film for that matter, I kinda just watch and enjoy the ride, and it wasn't until I started reading all this great Loki meta on Tumblr that I started to actually think about any of this stuff at all. But I guess if I had to pick something... um something I really liked, in Ragnarok of all things, was how Loki seemed to joke about the more difficult/upsetting aspects of his past (ex: his suicide attempt, and to a lesser degree his Jotun heritage bc I do think he has a lot of unresolved issues when it comes to that). Which is strange bc a lot of fans actually have said they hated that, but for a character known for putting a front and wearing masks I honestly found it pretty in character for him. Like I do think Loki uses humor to downplay his own pain/angst/struggles in general. The comment he says about Frigga (after she was recently murdered mind you) when Thor says "She wouldn't want us to fight" (voice full of pain) and Loki just - tearfully, yet lightheartedly quips back "well she wouldn't exactly be shocked" - it's things like that. And granted, I know those two scenes were very different, and he was with Thor in the latter scene, which also changes everything on how he responds/presents himself etc., but I can't help but see it as another example of Loki using humor to lighten up a conversation/bad memory. (There are probably better examples out there, but I'm too tired to search for any).

Just basically: if anyone would make a sarcastic joke about their own suicide attempt and shrug it off as no big deal... it'd be Loki.

#Loki #Choose Violence Asks #Not sure if any of my responses were actually violent or not... but yeah. XD #Pretty much just rambling here. But I hope it makes sense #I really had fun with these!#Thanks again for the asks Charlotte. I hope you're well! :)

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crokitheloki · 9 months

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ok so I finally watched ant man quantamania and the reason for that is that I heard Loki was in the end credit scene right like that's the only reason I watched it (also cause kang was in it and he's connected to Loki too so yeah)

but anyways I nearly cried when the end credit scene came cause goddamn I missed my Loki a lot also Tom Hiddleston slay like I don't think I could love someone more (Tom and Loki) like is it bad that my favorite part of the movie was the end credit scene?? I was also crocheting the whole movie so I was only half paying attention but my point still stands I love Loki and I missed them and I truly cannot wait until season 2

Like this might be kinda weird of me but the amount of acting that Tom did in like a two second clip?? I love him and how much he loves Loki I also want to give Loki a hug because they deserve it and they look like they need it god I love Loki so much

anyway I'm nearly done with my tote bag/purse thing!! I just have to do the border and then she'll be done !

#croki rambles #loki laufeyson #loki

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scrumptious-finicky-illusion · 1 year

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I posted 681 times in 2022

That's 185 more posts than 2021!

13 posts created (2%)

668 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@worstloki

@chronic-ghost

@stellophia

@livebloggingmydescentintomadness

@nildespirandum

I tagged 497 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#loki - 176 posts

#other people's art - 103 posts

#other people’s art - 63 posts

#other people’s stories - 42 posts

#other people's stories - 42 posts

#thor - 24 posts

#useful - 21 posts

#tom hiddleston - 13 posts

#good omens - 10 posts

#the sandman - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 76 characters

#i've had more than 12 different types of cheese in my fridge on a normal day

My Top Posts in 2022:

I am not dead

I was given a copy of Horizon: Forbidden West and it's eaten my brain (and all of my time). I loved the original and I'm loving this one.

I had a job interview that I was totally qualified for and it had excellent compensation, but when the interviewer bagged on their current employee and then said "it takes about six months to learn to handle this job without crying," I began feeling uneasy.

It took me a night of sleeping on it for me to articulate what was wrong with this interview. One, don't bag on your current employees, ever. It shows you have no respect for the people in your employ and that you would rather talk about them behind their backs than teach them how to do their jobs better. Two, jobs should not make anyone cry. If that's the case, you're an awful boss who doesn't know how to teach people how to do the job the way they want it done (and if it's that much to do, you should hire more than one person to do everything).

Yadda yadda, capitalism sucks and I've already survived a job that was that traumatic (for 18 years, goddamn it) , so if I'm offered this job I'm going to give this one a pass. I recognize that I'm extraordinarily privileged that I can pass up this opportunity because my spouse has a decent job.

1 note - Posted March 19, 2022

This pleases me

2 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

More Misadventures with Merchandise

Me: *watches What If series episode with Jotun Loki* Oooh, neat!

Funko: *advertises their What If series Pop!s*

Me: Oooh, neat! *places pre-order on Amazon for Jotun Loki Pop!*

Amazon: *accepts order*

One week later

Amazon: (via email) Your pre-order is out of stock! Another seller has it for double triple the price, though!"

Me: *sees item is still available via target dot com* *places new order*

TWO MONTHS LATER

Me: *opens box*

Box: Have a Queen General Raimonda!

I called Target's customer service and managed to get a refund and I get to keep the queen. I went back to amazon, and Jotun Loki is suddenly available again, for the original price. He'll get here Tuesday.

2 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

Turning Red is a Rorschach test where people see what traumatized them the most about changing from a kid to an adult

2 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So I watched the first episode of The Boys Diabolical because it was short and boy howdy was it exactly what it said on the tin. The first ep, "Laser Baby's Day Out" had the main characters drawn in classic Chuck Jones style (think mid-[20th]century modern Bugs Bunny) which looks so familiar to animation fans. Dare I say it was a deliberate choice made to draw the audience in? That little girl could totally have been born in Who-ville. It's deeply cute from the get-go. But from there it goes off the rails. I won't spoil it for you, but it really really goes off the rails, and then some. The cognitive dissonance of watching what happens in the oh-so-familiar, family-friendly style is just chef's kiss.

I think the main character, Simon, looks a lot like Tom Hiddleston. It's all there for me, the expressive eyes, the lankiness, even the nose, which is a classic caricature style. Look at that face! That little smile!

See the full post

32 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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iamanartichoke · 4 years

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I don’t care what anyone says, Tom’s hair right now is fucking glorious.

#i love it #so much #some th blogs are like #'ugh he needs to cut it it doesn't look good!'#but i am like #may a pair of scissors never come near your magnificent locks #work those golden curls #you goddamn ray of sunshine #tom hiddleston is my favorite unicorn

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therollingstonys · 4 years

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Do you ever look at a celeb and be like “we’d be friends if you knew me”

#but also celebs would be so much more normal if they had normal people friends #like why can’t i be friends (who fuck and love each other) with tom hiddleston?#it’s a goddamn tragedy is what it is #anyway #mod stella rambles

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disruptor · 5 years

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#i love tom hiddleston so GODDAMN MUCH#chris hemsworth #avengers #mark ruffalo #endgame #marvel #twitter #thor #loki

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sidehowriting · 5 years

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Guys my boyfriend referred to Tom Hiddleston's amazing abs as "fergalicious definition" and I'm fucking dying 😂😂

#like what the fuck #how did he even think of that #its true though #tom hiddleston is RIPPED #goddamn my man is funny #i love this clown so much #personal

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twochildreninamoteldemo · 3 years

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favorite incest ships

(asked by @pantastic-peach on my main - feel free to request a gifset of any you like!)

disclaimer because this is tumblr: i don’t support incest irl. obviously.

1. Wincest (Sam/Dean)

Obviously this had to be number one. Where else are you going to get codependent, enmeshed, homoerotic brothers written to be intentionally weird with incestuous undertones? Where else are you gonna get gothic tradition combined with American folklore and masculinity to create this trauma-induced but designed-by-fate love? Saving each other again and again, unspoken confessions and longing glances and growing up with only each other and canonically soulmates? I love this ship so goddamn much.

Status: Canon / Non-canon ???who even knows??

2. Sharpecest (Thomas/Lucille)

I really gotta commend Guillermo del Toro for bringing back gothic-horror-romance to the big screen. Old houses, naive heroines, and family secrets (incest) and all. The interesting thing is that Thomas and Lucille’s romance is given a sympathetic light, and we learned that they are both victims of abuse. So the trauma in how they got here makes it interesting to read about. Plus, Jessica Chastain and Tom Hiddleston are extremely hot, of course.

Status: Canon / Non-canon

3. Harcest: Horrance/Kliego/Benkliego, Fiveya, Aluther (Umbrella Acad.)

So many siblings, so many pairings to choose from. As with Wincest and Sharpecest, the relationships between the siblings that skew romantically are due to bad parenting and messed-up childhoods. Are the siblings or are they classmates? Do THEY even know? Not to go off about gothic tropes again (are we sensing a theme?) but again we have the old house, the messed up family, supernatural elements, secrets kept from children (Vanya), secrets kept BY children (Alluther), and not knowing how to put back your family again when it wasn’t even there in the first place.

Status: (partially) Canon / Non-canon

4. Junincest (Jun-ho/In-ho) - SQUID GAME SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

This one’s extremely new--from Squid Game. The whole movie I thought that Jun-ho and the Front Man would make a very interesting couple, say, if Jun-ho had to worm his way into the Front Man’s good graces to get information on the Squid Game and seduction and the like. And then! We find out--they’re brothers! But oh! As we’ve seen above, that ain’t gonna stop me...if anything it adds more angst. And we love that. ;)

Status: Canon / Non-canon

---

edit: thorki gets an honorable mention because while i don’t really ship it, i have read fanfic for it (i like jotunn loki content and that’s really the only place i can find it) and the fandom has really cool artists and writers. i just prefer gen/platonic thor&loki :)

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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 3 years

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Are You Game?

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One shot WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Actor Tom PAIRING: Tom/Reader GENRE: Romance TAGLIST: @waddlenut PICTURE CREDIT: @prislaa

REQUEST: Tom Hiddleston x non actress reader where reader and Tom are neighbors and reader growing close with Tom with every time they watch movies at each other's house or just eat dinner together, silently pines for him, and one time she encounters a script Tom is currently working on, and she wanted to try how Tom does his work (but still while holding the script) and happens to read a love scene. AUTHOR’S NOTE: Happy Birthday to the person requesting this fic! I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you’ll have a great birthday!

Are You Game?

As you seated yourself on the couch something caught your eye. There was a bunch of papers just sitting there on the coffee table, begging to be read. You glanced towards the kitchen, to make sure Tom didn’t see you, before you carefully grabbed the papers. Tom was very serious when it came to keeping secrets about the projects he was working on. No matter how much you begged, he wouldn’t reveal anything you weren’t supposed to know. That’s why you were surprised to find a script laying around for you to find it. You knew you shouldn’t read it, out of respect for his professionalism, but you simply couldn’t help yourself, you were too curious about what his next project would be.

The script had you totally engrossed. So much that you didn’t notice your dear neighbour walking into his living room where you were supposed to have a movie night.

“I have had enough!” you read out loud from the script and dramatically stood up from the couch.

“You’re not supposed to read that,” Tom said from right behind you. You yelped in surprise and spun around to face him. As you guiltily looked up at him, you saw a gentle smile playing at his lips and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. “But I suppose I only have myself to blame for letting it sit there. I should have put it away when I knew you were coming over,” he then said and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. He wasn’t upset with you, but seemed to perfectly understand how completely irresistible the script had been for your curious eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Tom,” you apologised and tried to hand him the script, but he didn’t take it. Instead he smiled at you amusedly.

“Why don’t you continue to read Melanie’s lines?” he suggested with a grin.

“Umm,” you uttered and nervously licked your lips as you read from the papers in your hands. “I… I have had enough! I can’t do this anymore, Roger. All this sneaking around, pretending not to know each other. We should just tell them already.”

“Oh, darling,” Tom said and looked into your eyes. “You know we can’t do that. I would lose my job. You don’t want me to do that, now do you?”

“Of course not!” you read from the script and paused for a moment. “But… but I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind!” You did your best to sound genuinely upset as the words left your mouth. You wanted to play your part as well as you possibly could, now that you finally had the chance to see how Tom was doing his job.

“You need to calm down, Melanie,” Tom said and put his hands on your shoulders. He was staring straight into your eyes and you nervously glanced down on the script to escape his intensive look.

“How could I possibly calm down when my entire world is falling apart!” you questioned angrily and took a step back, away from his touch.

“Easy now, young missy. I knew you had a dramatic streak, but I didn’t realise you were this dramatic. What do you mean by saying your entire world is falling apart?” Tom questioned with a condescending smile. You felt your eyes narrow spontaneously at Tom’s character’s words.

“I’m pregnant, Roger,” you told him and gave him an accusatory glare.

“Are you sure?” Tom looked shocked.

“Of course I’m sure!” you continued angrily. “I took four pregnancy tests and all of them were positive.”

“And are you sure it’s mine?” Tom asked you seriously.

“Yes! It’s yours!” you snorted, feeling upset for your character. “You’re the only one I have ever been with. You know that!”

“Well, this changes everything,” Tom said and moved towards you. He carefully placed a hand on top of your stomach and caressed your cheeks with his other hand. You realised that you had tears running down your face as Tom gently wiped them away with his thumb. “Don’t be sad, dear. I’m a man, not a coward. You have a big decision to make and I’ll be there to support you in whatever you choose to do. We’re in this together.”

You looked up at Tom admiringly before you suddenly threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear.

“Thank you, [your name],” Tom said and smiled warmly at you as he hugged you back. “I don’t think that hug was in the script,” he pointed out amusedly.

“I know, it just felt right in the moment,” you said and smiled embarrassedly at him.

“I thought so too,” Tom agreed and carefully took the script from your hand. “Do you want to finish the scene or should we leave it at that?” he asked you and your cheeks grew warm as you glanced down at the paper to read the following words: ‘They kiss’.

“Is that a dare?” you asked and smiled at him.

“It is,” Tom said playfully and grinned at you. “Are you game?”

You leaned in for a kiss and Tom was quick to follow. Your lips met in a surprisingly passionate kiss that turned into a make out session.

“You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Tom said when you finally took a break to catch your breaths. You smiled at him, happy to learn that it wasn’t only you who had been pining for him all this time, but he had also yearned for you.

#tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #romance #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston/reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston/you

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colorsunimaginable · 2 years

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the spare // chapter thirty-two // deatheater!tomhiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 4.4k warnings for this chapter: references to grooming, underage relationships

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Thirty-Two:

I take my shower in a daze. Well, less of a daze and more a concentrated use of my Occlumency. I should’ve used it earlier with Thomus, but I blame my soft bitch heart for making me so scatterbrained.

It was stupid of me to reject him. I’d been an idiot to think that it would make him change his mind. No matter how much he might claim to want me – and it really wasn’t all that convincing – I should’ve known I wouldn’t have been enough. Me wanting it to be true, isn’t going to make it so. The risk I took had not been very well calculated. If I’d just let things continue as they were, it might only have been a matter of time. Now it’s drawn a line in the sand with both of us on opposite sides.

I keep telling myself that the pain from the rejection has nothing to do with being rejected by him. I’m sure I’d react just the same if it had been anyone else. It’s not like it’s an unfamiliar feeling.

By the end of my shower, I’d come up with no answers or solutions to my problems, but I do realize I can fix my hair now. The shoulder length look I like to keep it at has split ends that knot my hair too easily. It’s been almost four months since I last did my hair. The bright neon pink is starting to fade and the dark length of my roots looks stark in comparison. I might not be able to touch up my roots, but since I have my magic back, I can at least cut my hair easily.

~*~

I leave Thomus in his room while I go downstairs to start making breakfast. The record player had still been in the bathroom and I drag it to the table. Music always makes me feel better. Occlumency can mask emotions, but it can’t fabricate genuine ones. Since facing Thomus is inevitable, I need the strength a better mood will provide.

I briefly debate between Taylor Swift’s album Speak Now or Hank Williams’ Greatest Hits Volume One, but I figure Taylor’s songs would be far too romantic for me right now. It doesn’t take long for the familiar lyrics of Williams’ songs like Settin’ the Woods on Fire and Move It On Over to get me bobbing my head and softly singing to myself as I work.

After splitting a pan of cheesy scrambled eggs onto two plates, I turn to put in a round of toast in the toaster, and see Thomus standing in the kitchen doorway. He’s leaning against the doorframe with The Hobbit peeking out from under his arm. Shaking off my surprise, I instinctively go to help him, but he holds his hand up to stop me and limps to the kitchen table.

“How’s it feel?” I ask as he sits in his usual chair.

“There’s some pain, but it’s manageable,” he sighs. “It was time I started walking on it.”

I hum in agreement and turn back to switch out two pieces of toast. While the new slices are heating, I butter the ready ones.

For a moment I forget that he’s there, murmuring along to Why Don’t You Love Me. I stop mid-verse, realizing my Occlumency’s working a little too well if I’m comfortable singing in front of him after the morning we just had. Ugh, especially a goddamn romantic song? That’s exactly the shit that I’d been trying to avoid.

I steel my expression as I quickly bring him his plate so I can shut off the player. Our eyes meet only briefly, but I can see he’s carefully eyeing me. His face as stony as I expect mine to be.

“You don’t have to turn it off just because I’m here,” he says.

I shrug and turn back to get my toast ready. “I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

He doesn’t say anything more until I sit with my own plate. “To be honest, I don’t mind your taste in music,” he says as we begin to eat. I get a few bites in before getting back up to pull out two glasses for orange juice. I remember he likes coffee in the mornings, so I reconsider and put one of the glasses back. “Everything you play is so different from one thing to the next.”

I fill and set the kettle to boil, trying not to give him a weird look. “Have you not listened to a lot of music?” I ask, a little taken aback. I remember him being fascinated by the record player when I first started using it. Does he not know there’s a wide variety of music out there?

“Not exactly,” he speaks slowly as I sit back down with my glass of juice. “Not so much in a casual sense. Someone usually had a wireless playing in the Slytherin common room, but I tended to leave when they did.”

At first my curiosity is contained to my voice. “You didn’t like it?”

“It wasn’t a past-time that I was… allowed to like.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s so weird to me,” I say, my expression showing how absolutely puzzled I am. “My mom’s a music teacher at an elementary school, so basically music’s been a part of my life since I was in the womb.” I take a bite of my toast. “You know how to dance, though?”

“I was taught ballroom dancing,” he says, “as any child of good breeding and wealth were.”

I feel my face heat. “I don’t think that what we did would be considered ballroom dancing.”

He gives a wry smile. “No, that was something I learned from my time abroad with Jacob Astor. He threw quite a few parties while his parents were away.”

My thoughts imagine parties like the one at Cliveden, except instead of dancing with me, Thomus would be dancing with someone else. Didn’t Astor make some remark about Thomus dancing with girls who... weren’t dancing? Am I anything like those girls?

“So did you never have a rebellious phase in your life?”

“Spending all that time with Jake was my rebellious phase.”

I give a disbelieving shake to my head. “If it were me, I’d have lead a very different life at school than I did at home if my parents had forbidden me from something I enjoyed. Or hidden a radio in my room at the very least. I don’t think I would’ve waited as long as you did.”

The kettle starts to scream and I quickly get up to remove it from the heat, getting his mug and coffee grounds ready.

“It was simply considered a bad influence,” he shrugs.

“And Bellatrix was considered a good one!?” I snort, my voice rising. I’m probably being too impertinent, but I can’t help myself. I’m dying to know more about their relationship.

He doesn’t say anything as I pour his coffee and set it before him.

“You think she was a bad influence,” he says. It’s not a question.

I take a sip of my orange juice to clear my throat. “Well, I know that she was an influence,” I say, skirting around the question. “One that got you into certain kinds of trouble because of the kind of person she is.” His eyes have drifted to the window to look at the back yard. Mine linger on the handsomeness of his face and I feel my chest tighten, imagining the kinds of things she more than likely exposed him to. “You were a teenager when she went to Azkaban.”

His eyes don’t leave the window. “So?”

“How old was she?” I ask softly.

Now his eyes jump to mine. “What’re you getting at?”

I peer at him, not answering him immediately, instead taking in his defensive expression for a moment. I know that Bellatrix is older than Lucius, who’s already ten years Thomus’ senior.

“It’s just… weird,” I begin, “for a teenager to hang out with… an adult.” My eyes finally drop from his face to my plate, where I start pushing around the remainder of my eggs. “I’m not trying to be rude or indelicate, I’m just… curious.”

When my eyes flicker to him briefly, I see that his expression had softened. Not defensive anymore, but resigned. As he begins to speak, I hang onto every word.

“My mother favored music as well,” he says. “She was around in my youth long enough to bestow interests on me that my father did not approve of. He wanted certain traits within me to be encouraged and others restricted.” My mind immediately wonders what on earth his father would consider an encouragable trait. “Bella was once engaged to Lucius. I once heard her say that if she couldn’t have one Malfoy, then she’d have the other.”

Someone she could control. I try to keep my reaction minimal. “I’m guessing you didn’t object to that.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward and he looks down. “No, I didn’t. She was beautiful, strong-minded, and terribly funny at times. I don’t know what teenage boy would object to the attention and flirtation of a beautiful confident woman like her.”

I ignore the twinge of jealousy in my chest at his description of her, a dry huff escaping my mouth. I’m getting some real Fifty Shades of Grey vibes here and I don’t like it. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s a good thing. Your dad didn’t have anything to say about the age gap? What about your brother?”

He shakes his head. “My marks in school vastly improved. I was the leader of the dueling club and Quidditch team captain. With her guidance, I suddenly became the kind of son my father had always wanted me to be. Lucius is the heir, but father still wanted me to be able to step into his shoes should the time come.”

“The spare heir,” I fill in and he nods.

He pauses, finally taking a sip of his black coffee. “Lucius didn’t have any objections until she became engaged to Rodolphus. I’d always suspected it had more to do with his distaste for a Malfoy being in a position of scandal and dishonor than anything else.”

I nod, trying to piece together what he’s telling me and what I already know. “So, she eventually married him and kept a relationship with you. Why didn’t you two just get married?”

There’s hesitation on his face and I immediately regret asking him something so personal. But he surprises me by answering anyway. “I was too young, and her father was pressuring her to get married sooner rather than later.”

I can tell by his face that his feelings for her are genuine and I partly wonder why he’s not bothering to mask his emotions. He looks so… regretful and I can’t stop the sympathy I feel for him. Even if the relationship was pedophilic at one point.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

His eyes, a moment ago getting lost in his cup of coffee, now zeros in on me again. “Pardon?”

“It sucks,” I say softly, shrugging a little. I can hear the sadness in my own voice. “No matter how great they say you are… you’re just not enough. There always seems to be someone better, and that person is never you.”

“I don’t want your sympathy,” he bites out. “Why do you speak as if you… know?”

I give him a small, tight lipped smile. He might not be masking his emotions right now, but I definitely am while talking about something so personal.

“I didn’t live under a rock before I came to England, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” he snaps.

“Remember my friend Jonathan, from my memories?” I ask. At his nod, I continue. “I had a couple crushes while at school, but he’s the only one I ever really considered might like me back.” I sigh heavily. “But then he met Sam and suddenly his world revolved around her. Which was fine, Sam deserved to be loved like that. So I just moved on.”

“You dated someone else?”

I chuckle before I can think about why he’d ask. “I’ve never dated anyone, actually.”

His head tilts in disbelief, looking as if he’s about to ask me something, but he reconsiders.

“What?” I press.

“I suppose that would make sense.” He can already tell I’m going to ask him to elaborate. He looks a little awkward. “Your… status.”

I let out a short laugh. “Oh, are you asking why I’m still a virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-four?”

“We’ve talked about your experience, but I suppose it was never… extensive.”

I have to press my lips together to keep from smiling again. He’s trying to be so polite and honestly it’s adorable.

“Well, it’s not like I didn’t want to,” I say and then pause, trying to figure out how to explain my entire romantic history without making it a TEDTalk. “Dating is just really difficult for women who look like me. Growing up my friends had crushes on guys and vice versa, but I hardly ever allowed myself to have any. Being told ‘oh so and so likes you’ and then for them to just laugh when it’s taken seriously, because oh who could ever like the fat girl, right?”

Realizing I've revealed too much unimportant information, I glance up at Thomus. He's sitting back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, looking at me. he doesn't look bored, but interested, even if he's just being polite.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, but I trudge on, avoiding his eyes. "Dating apps made it slightly easier in college, but things usually just ended as a hookup. It's always 'I'm not looking for a relationship right now' and then not two weeks later, they're dating someone else. Usually someone far prettier and, um, thinner."

Thank fuck I've got my magic right now. My heart is going a million miles a minute, but the only thing my mask is letting through is that blush.

Thomus looks thoughtful, as if he's actually considering my words.

"Have you ever tried losing weight?" he asks softly. I'm not offended by his question.

I take a deep breath and give a rueful smile. My fingers come up to my plate to start tearing apart the remainder of my toast as I talk. "Of course, but I've been this way for so long I'm convinced it's a part of my DNA at this point. Not to mention that I've worked so hard for the little confidence I do have that if I woke up tomorrow with half my body weight, I think I'd have an identity crisis." I laugh a little and peek up at him to see a corner of his mouth turned up as well.

He crosses his arms. "I find it hard to believe that you weren't able to find anyone who found you attractive enough."

I blink, my eyebrows drawing together. "If my goal was to have meaningless sex then I definitely could have accomplished that."

He looks as if the light bulb just went off over his head. "You don't want it to be meaningless."

"Correct," I say, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I've come close before. Right after Sam died." Memories of fumbling clothes and slurred speech come to mind. "I just wanted to feel something other than the grief." Toast thoroughly torn, I drop it, wiping the crumbs off my hands with a napkin and grabbing my glass of juice. "I ruined it because after he finished me off with his fingers, I just started crying because I didn't build up a strong enough wall to stop myself." I stare into my juice, my mind feeling so very far away. "I kind of wish I hadn't cried. Things would be different and I wouldn't be here."

It's silent for a few moments, and then he says, "I don't."

Slowly, my eyes go to his face. His gaze is a bit more intense than I was expecting. We hold each other's stare for a few moments before it becomes a bit too much for me. I break his stare and chug the rest of my juice. I also beat my sadness back with a broom and sit straighter in my chair.

"Anyways," I say brightly, "the entire point of that revealing and depressing conversation is that I understand."

"Understand what?" he asks as I stand, taking both of our mostly empty plates.

"What it's like to never be someone's first choice," I say, calm and matter-of-fact.

I take our plates to the sink. "More coffee?" I ask without looking at him.

He clears his throat. "Yes."

I put the kettle back on and make quick work of the dishes I'd managed to dirty while making our meal. The stupid song from the record is still stuck in my head, so I start to hum, letting that occupy my mind instead of the conversation we just had. It keeps my mood chipper and a light grin on my face.

The kettle starts to scream and I set it to the side before turning to retrieve his mug.

My smile fades in an instant. Thomus has placed a familiar potion vial on the table. My eyes slide over to him and then down to the wand he has resting on his thigh, gripped tightly in his hand. His head is cocked slightly and he's looking at me like he knows. How the hell could he know? I only just got it back last night. He shouldn't even have suspected.

Was he not as unconscious as I'd thought him to be during my rescue? Did he hear me casting the spells?

My Occlumency helps to keep my reaction measured. No racing heart, no wide eyes. Just calm, cool, and collected.

"Come now," he says at my hesitation, his voice steady with threatening authority. "You've been such a good girl recently, let's not ruin that now."

I frown and decide to lie. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do," he chides. "How else could you have saved me?"

"Uh, ever heard of CPR?"

He scoffs. "Muggle rubbish."

"Muggle rubbish that saved your life!" My hands, hidden from view behind the island between us, subtly crosses its fingers.

"I can easily prove you're lying, Alder," he says. "All it takes is a little Legilimency."

My frown tightens. "If I did have my magic, do you really think we'd be having a conversation about it? Wouldn't you be scared shitless right now?"

"Your threats are hollow to me."

"And why is that?"

"Because if you really wanted me dead, last night was your prime opportunity, but instead, you chose to save me." My eyes fall to the movement of his thumb rubbing circles over his wand. "As we discussed this morning."

I raise my chin. "This is a shitty way of expressing your gratitude."

He raises an eyebrow. "Gratitude I attempted to express this morning," he says. "The offer is still on the table." His eyes fall from me to the island. "Or on the counter."

It takes all of my concentration not to imagine getting fucked on the kitchen island.

Wait, you know what?

I let my fingers dance over the top of the counter as I walk around it. I bite my lip and lower my gaze in what I hope is a suggestive look. Using my hands as leverage, I jump and shove my ass onto the counter, grateful that it's sturdy enough for me to do so. I lean back onto one hand, my knees spread farther apart than they should be. My other hand trails its fingers along the inside of my thigh. Thankfully the inseam of my shorts aren't leaving much to the imagination. And Thomus, sitting at the table, has the perfect view.

"Yeah," I say smoothly. "Let's fuck on the counter."

His eyes are focused right where I'd hoped they'd be. Then they trail up my body to my eyes. I waggle my eyebrows and give him a shy smile.

"Gratitude comes at a cost," I tease.

He doesn't take the bait and glares at me. "Just take the damn potion, Alder."

I sigh and sit forward, my dangling legs kicking mindlessly. "Or what?"

"Or I will tie you to that counter and force you to take it."

I lick my lips and smirk. "You know there are two ways that statement could be interpreted."

Thomus' glare turns into a snarl and he shoots to his feet - or foot, I should say. He points his wand at me.

I quickly hold my hand up. "Alright, alright, don't shit a brick, okay?"

This seems to reassure him the slightest bit, because he sits back down. His wand is still aimed at me, but his posture and expression is more relaxed, less angry. His eyes go from me to the potion and back to me. I sigh.

"At least let me cut my hair first," I say. "Under your supervision, of course."

His eyes narrow again. "Do you really need magic to do that?"

"It's much easier with magic," I say. "I'll take it as my... reward."

"I see," he says, considering for a moment. He takes in my hair, which is still slightly damp from my shower. "Your hair isn't very long. How short do you want it?"

"Just an inch or two. The split ends are starting to make it tangle."

While on the thoughts of hair, he runs his fingers through his own curly mop, pushing it needlessly away of his face. "Can't you just comb or brush it?"

"Yeah, but that requires effort and I simply do not have the patience to do that every day."

He sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms again. His wand pokes out next to his shoulder. "Very well."

With the slightest twitch from my fingers, the room becomes alive with movement. I can't keep the smile from my face as I hop down from the counter. Two clean plates from the cabinet come floating down to hover over the table, transfiguring into mirrors. The chair I'd been sitting in moves around the table closer to Thomus, so I can sit in the direct lighting from the window. I summon the comb from the bathroom into my hand and sit in the chair. I pull my glasses from my face and get to work.

Using the mirror I comb and part my hair down the middle. I look absolutely hideous with a middle part so I pretend that Thomus isn't sitting so close, watching my every move. The other mirror floats behinds me so I can see the back of my head clearly. Using my index finger, I concentrate on the severing charm and glide it through the side of my hair, two-ish inches above the ends. The hair falls, leaving behind a straight cut.

I turn my head and look at my reflection, making sure that's the length I want it at. Satisfied, I continue around the rest of my hair, slicing dead ends off right and left. The back of my head gets a little tricky as usual, but I manage to get it looking decent.

My fingers run around the crown of my head, pulling and separating the hair until I can hold all of it straight up. I try not to think about how ridiculous I look as I quickly slice through the ends a little bit more. When it falls, and I shake my hair out, running my fingers along my scalp as I do. I flip my hair back and it settles along my natural part, ends freshly clipped into semi-neat layers.

"Does it look like I did it myself?" I say aloud, more to myself than to Thomus as I slide my glasses back on. The broom resting in the corner begins sweeping up all the hair, and I try to bat what's left off my shoulders. "Yes. But does it look passable and better than it did? Also yes."

I transfigure the mirrors back into plates, making sure they go back to their cupboard. The broom dumps the hair into the trash can and settles back in its spot. The comb I can just take back upstairs myself.

Finally, my eyes flicker back to Thomus. His posture had relaxed even more, his arms uncrossed, elbow braced on the edge of the table as he gazes at me in return. His expression is... unreadable.

"How's it look?" I ask, a shy smile on my mouth.

He raises an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitches again. "I'll tell you once you take the potion."

I give a resigned sigh and grab the potion, taking my time to uncork it. He rolls his eyes and stands, tucking the book under his arm again. I stand as well, push in my chair, and chug the potion like it's a shot.

The magic buzzing under my skin fades, and I make a promise to myself to pay more attention to when it comes back, so I'll know for next time. Maybe if I can hide it better, I'll be able to go undiscovered for a longer period of time. Maybe actually put it to good use and it won't be such a surprise.

I must've zoned out because I nearly jump out of my skin when his fingers brush along the new ends of my hair. He's staring at it when he speaks.

"You look beautiful."

My heart pounds in my chest and my mouth is suddenly dry. I literally just swallowed my mask away, so as I stare back at him, I feel much more vulnerable than I was. His mask, however, is obviously still in place, and he doesn't give me a hint of emotion before he drops his hand from my hair and turns for the door.

"Come on," he pipes, "I need to find out if Bilbo decides to give Thorin the Arkenstone."

His pace is slow, so it gives me a moment to collect myself before following him.

~*~

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ollieoxenfree29 · 2 years

Text

Looking for A Good Time ♫♫ Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Author’s note: Holy hell, I never thought this would never see the light of day. This has been in the works for a hot minute and I’m so glad that it’s finally getting out of my head. This song has been in my head on repeat for months. Song- Looking for a Good Time by Lady A.

Please let me know if you would like something written!

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, Sexual themes and innuendos. STRONG language. (Please let me know if I missed anything else.)

Word Count:2120

Taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn

@theaudacitytowrite

The bar was not your scene. Especially in Atlanta. On a goddamn Friday night. Everyone who has ever met you would say that you’d much rather be at home on that bright, comfy, yellow couch; reading your guilty pleasure book.

“You’re only doing this to be a good friend. That’s it. We are going to only have 3 drinks. NO MORE. NO LESS.” You kept telling yourself in the mirror, pulling your crimson red dress down to your mid-thigh, and attaching a black leather jacket to your shoulders.

“Why did I agree to this?” You huffed to no one in particular.

After hearing a ring erupt from your phone, you peeked at the screen. Seeing your best friend’s name and a set of emojis pop up, you picked up the phone and slid your finger on the screen.

“Sup Bish?” You asked.

“Where are you? I thought you were meeting me at the bar?” Sandra whined, the tone in her voice indicating that she was already about 3 drinks in.

“Sandra, I told you that my car is in the shop. Mark is finally fixing my windows. I guess I’ll Uber over there since you sound drunk as hell already.” You sighed, opening the ridesharing app and hitting the button.

“Well hurrrrrrrry!” She slurred. “There are some fucking HUNKS here.” You rolled your eyes.

Sandra was HELL BENT on finding your Prince Charming. You didn’t understand her obsession with your love life. You just want to get through day to day. You are happy being alone.

“Yah yah, I’m coming. Just keep your lace on.“ You joked, looking at your phone and seeing that your driver was only 3 minutes away.

“Awhh, that’s cute. You think I have something under this skirt. OHhhh, there’s a cutie coming to the bar. BYEEEEEEEE!!!“ Sandra screamed as she hung up the phone.

You sighed, picking up your handbag and walking out of your apartment and to the car.

“Hi there! Uber for (Name)?“ The woman behind the wheel asked. “Yep. that’s me.” You responded, stepping into the vehicle.

After an uneventful 30 minute ride downtown; you arrived at the bar. You tipped the driver and bid her safe travels. Walking into the doors of the bar, you immediately caught several waves of different smells. Sweat. Perfume. Sex, and Testosterone. Just to name a few. Walking over to the bar, you sat next to Sandra; who was milking a sangria. When the sensory overload you were experiencing wore off, your eyes locked with a rather tall white man. Curly blonde hair, a chiseled jawline with fathomless blue eyes. Staring back at you with passion; like you were the last speck of food on earth and he was starving to death.

You broke away from his captivating gaze and turned to the bartender. “A screwdriver for me please.” Showing him your ID, he started on your drink.

“So.” You turn to Sandra. “Why are we here?”

“UHHH, we are celebrating!” She gleamed.

You had to think hard. Did you miss an important date?

“What are we celebrating?” You asked, giving up.

“I didn’t tell you before? Harlow and I are finally moving in together!” She squealed.

Your heart sank. She’s moving in with fucking Harlow Emery?

“You mean the same Harlow that has broken your heart at least 15 times? The same Harlow that if I remember correctly; called us both slut-slugs at homecoming senior year and then proceeded to throw ACTUAL slugs at us?” You recalled.

Sandra looked over. “Yes? Our flame just rekindled.”

You sighed. “Sandra, I adore you; so I’m going to say this next sentence to you as your best friend.” You paused. “This is the stupidest fucking thing you have ever done. But with that being said; I love you and I support you. But if they do something, I’m hurting them and you’re going to stay with Kiko and me.” You finished, just as the bartender returned with your drink. You nodded as he set it down in front of you. You reached and gave it a long sip. It would appear that you will be having more than three drinks tonight.

Sandra laughed. “You know I love that damn cat.” She took a huge swig of what looked like a vodka and Redbull chaser.

“OH MY GOD, THEY’VE GOT KARAOKE GOING ON TONIGHT!” She hollered, sliding off of her chair and stumbling to the sign-up sheet.

“Sandra, don’t you dare sign me u- annnd she’s gone.” you huffed. As you got to the end of your first drink, the bartender walked up with another drink; this time it was a deep red wine.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t order this.” You said.

The bartender was confused. “Oh right, I was supposed to give you this! Sorry, it’s my first night.” He exclaimed. He handed you a note.

Hello there, I thought you might like a drink as deep as that gorgeous crimson dress and as bright as those enthralling eyes of yours. Hopefully, you may see it in your mind to humor the thought of having one drink with me. -Tom

As your eyes darted back and forth on the small piece of paper sitting in your hands, You reached for the wine glass. As the sweet liquid made its way down your throat, you felt a presence sit next to you. Sandra climbed back onto her stool.

“IS THAT A NOTE? Did a guy give it to you? Is he cute?” Sandra rapidly asked.

“Jesus Christ Sandra, chill! I guess a guy did buy me a glass of wine. Yes, I do suppose he’s cute.” You replied, taking the final sip of wine. Setting the glass down, you try to steal a glance at him once more. The moment your eyes lifted from the floor, they were met with those cosmic blue eyes. You could almost feel your body gravitating- no levitating towards this mysterious Tom. He broke the line of contact to (from what it looked like from across the bar;) respond to something his friend had said.

Sandra looked at you with a drunken smile. Noticing the man you were looking at, she took a glimpse at the man. Her jaw dropped.

“Sweetie! Do you not know who they are?” She suddenly blurted, quickly latching onto your shoulders.

“Uhhh…. No?” You retaliate, looking back at Sandra. “I mean the dude with the short blond hair looks familiar; kinda. But not the man with the curly hair.”

As if on cue; the man with the short blond hair saw Sandra. He excused himself from the table and walked over to where you and Sandra were. His eyes seemed to beam with excitement.

“Is that Sandra Kwiatkowski? I can’t believe it! How are you?” The man roared above the loud music.

“CHRIS! IT IS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!” Sandra yelled back, getting up and attempting to engulf the 6’2 man into a hug (but failing miserably).

“Sandy, I haven’t seen you since what? Thor: Ragnarok?” Chris asked.

“Ughhh yes, I’ve been out of the makeup game for FAR too long. Chris, this is my best friend; (Name)!” Sandra introduced you to the tall man.

“Heh, hi there.” You said, meekly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” Chris smiled.

“So... “ Sandra started. “We are trying to find (Name) here a date. I need your help!” She ended; grabbing Chris’s hand and pulling him away from the bar.

“Wait Sandr-aahhhhhh!” Chris protested.

As Sandra dragged Chris away, you giggled; finally feeling the alcohol kicking in.

“It would appear that we both have gotten dumped by our friends; huh?” A deep, smooth British voice postulated.

You turned to see the man who you’ve been playing eye tag with all night.

Tom.

“It does look that way. Sandra has a track record of doing that. Don’t worry; she’ll be back. Can’t say the same for your friend though.” You retorted, looking at the list of drinks the bar provided.

While the tall man sat down next to you; you waved down the bartender.

“Hey sweetheart, can I get a Vesper? Shaken please; not stirred.” You asked the man, as Tom looked at you astonished.

“A Vesper? I definitely would not have pegged you for a heavy drinker.” Tom confessed.

“A rum and coke for me; please. Put them both on my tab. Thank you.” He ordered to the bartender.

You shrugged. “Meh. For once, I’m doing what I want to do.” You responded, peeling off the tight leather jacket, revealing your open back.

Tom’s mind raced as you did this simple task.

About 5 drinks in, you felt as light as a feather. Like you were on top of the world. Talking to Tom about anything and everything; you take notice of the stage to your left. You squint as you see Sandra and Chris (Both drunk off their asses) singing to some sappy love song.

“Hollllly shittttt! GO SANDRA!” You slurred, your head buzzing.

As they giggled their way offstage, the DJ forced a laugh.

“That was sure something.” He said as he reached for the next piece of paper.

“Next we’ve got (Name) and Tom performing “Looking for A Good Time” by Lady A!” He exclaimed.

You and Tom looked at each other, confused.

“Did you sign us up?” You both ask, titling after.

“Well, I didn’t.” Tom said.

“I didn’t either!” You retorted.

“THAT’S MY MOTHERFUCKING BEST FRIEND!!!!” You both hear from the other side of the bar.

“Sandra. It was fucking Sandra.” You sighed, putting your head in your hands. You heard Tom clear his throat. Looking up, you saw his hand outstretched.

“May I have the honor of singing this song with you?” He asked, his eyes gleaming.

You smiled. “Let’s do it.”

Walking up on stage, you hear Sandra and Chris cheering you on. Grabbing the microphone; your anxiety seeping in.

As the guitar riffs started; Tom transformed his smooth English accent into a rich, thick country draw, like Hank Williams country.

“Girl you're beautiful. You're bout near perfect, but I bet somebody's already told you that. Name your poison; name your passion. Cause a boy like me just couldn't help but ask.”

You sat there stupefied. Saying ‘fuck it’, you belt with all your heart.

“Keep on talking to me, baby. I'm hanging on your every word. Keep those drinks a coming, maybe we'll both get what we deserve!”

You both look at each other with the same passion and hunger that you had when you first walked into the bar.

“How bout baby we make a promise, to not promise anything more than one night? Complicated situations only get worse in the morning light. Hey, I'm just lookin' for a good time!”

Tom grabbed your hand and gave you a quick twirl. You giggled as he caught you in his chest.

“Put in a long hard week doing this 9 to 5, and you're just the girl to get that off my mind. You shouldn't 've worn that dress; you shouldn't dance like that. You got this little heart of mine in overdrive.” Tom sang, licking his lips.

You look down at your dress and blush. You internally cussed out your thighs and the escaping thought of not putting on Gold Bond.

You once again pulled down your dress. “I sure love this conversation, the band is good, the music's loud. But would you get the wrong impression if I called us a cab right now?” You chimed, looking over to Tom with a questionable look in your eyes.

He gleamed back with approval. “Hell yeah!”

“How bout baby we make a promise, to not promise anything more than one night? Complicated situations only get worse in the morning light. Hey, I'm just lookin' for a good time!” You and Tom vocalized.

“Go ahead and lie to me and pull me close.“ He sang, reaching for your hand and pulling you close.

You laugh. “Tell me that you love me even if you don't.”

“The rule is don't you ever even talk about forever, but you never say never in life.” You stare into Tom’s limpid blues.

“How bout baby we make a promise, to not promise anything more than one night? Complicated situations, only get worse in the morning light. Hey, I'm just lookin' for a good time!” You both finish with a smile, the bar erupting into a roar of cheers.

“Darling, that was phenomenal.” Tom said, walking off the stage with you linked to his arm.

Giggling, you nodded. “That was really fun!”

Chris and Sandra came up you both.

“Let’s get a uber!” Sandra exclaimed.

Then the rest was a drunken history.

#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom x y/n #thomas hiddleston #loki x reader #tom hiddleston #tom x you

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