“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should officially rebrand pillow fights,” said Penny thoughtfully, as she handed her current customer their coffee order. Truth be told, she hadn’t come up with this pun herself, but they didn’t have to know that. “Here you go! Anyway, what do you think about calling them whomping pillows? Like the tree, you know?”
Persephone looked up from the book she was reading to smile at the back of Penelope’s head. Placing the book down next to her, she hopped off from her place seated on the back counter and moved to lean next to the coffee machine, grinning all the while at the proposition her friend had made. “You do remember I was there when Hugo told us this, right?” Poking Penny with a playful tap of her elbow, Seph laughed. “But I agree, it’s definitely the way to go.”
❛ it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations. ❜
COURTNEY EATON? No, that’s actually PERSEPHONE TOOTS-HOOKUM from the NEXT GENERATION ERA. You know, the child of TILDEN TOOTS and DAISY HOOKUM? Only 21 years old, this RAVENCLAW alumni works as a BARMAID and is sided with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. SHE identifies as CIS WOMAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be TIMID, GUARDED, and SELFLESS but also FOCUSED, INSIGHTFUL, and LOYAL.
links: stats, pinterest
character inspo: amy santiago (brooklyn nine-nine), chidi anagonye (the good place), lara-jean covey (tatbilb), clare (derry girls), leslie knope (parks and rec), topanga lawrence (boy meets world),
triggers: miscarriage, missing parents, parental death (implied)
did you ever hear the story of tilden toots and daisy hookum? oh, a tragedy, to say the very least.
married young, in love from the moment they laid eyes on each other, the world had high hopes for a couple untouched by war. they were peaceful mediators, calm and content in their little word of greenery and love, and they lived well off the back of daisy’s successful book, my year as a muggle, and tilden’s continuing radio show, toots, shoots ’n roots. they had everything they needed - except a little child. [ MISCARRIAGE TW: every month they tried and they tried, and while occasionally it appeared they had been successful, the pregnancy never got further than four months before their world was brought crashing back down around them. END TW ] by the time daisy was 43 and tilden 46, they had all but given up - and that is when they were blessed with their first successful pregnancy, bringing into the world a beautiful little girl whom they loved more than they had ever loved anyone else before.
[ MISSING PARENTS; PARENTAL DEATH TW their beautiful baby girl, now named persephone, was four years old when they left her in the hands of tilden’s parents and went on their first trip together alone since persephone’s birth, never to return again. disappeared off the amalfi coast, a headline in the muggle papers and a small paragraph on the fifth page of the daily prophet. people cared, but not enough. they were famous, but not enough. and in a world once again being overtaken by purist ideals, what did it matter if two muggle sympathisers were gone? so be it. move on.
tilden’s parents were devastated and tried everything in their power to get a committee out to find the couple, but no one would listen to two old freaks with not enough money to their name. after a suspiciously quick investigation, daisy hookum and tilden toots were presumed dead and the world moved on. END TW ]
persephone toots-hookum, with a heart too big and eyes too wide for the cruel and unforgiving world she was about to be shoved into, moved in with her only grandparents (mr and mrs hookum having both died long ago). they quickly inherited the money from the toots-hookum household, enough to keep the new family of three comfortable in a small cottage not far from dublin, ireland. they raised little persephone with her parents up on a pedestal, unattainable kindness, intelligence, creativity and wit spilling from every new story seph heard. daisy hookum and tilden toots were heroes in the house that seph grew up in, and she treated them as no less.
with no ties to the pureblood society on the toots side and having practically been shunned on the hookum side for daisy’s decision to live as a muggle for a year, persephone and her grandparents lived in a limbo that separated them from the rest of magical society all throughout seph’s childhood. she grew up lonely, learnt how to entertain herself with a long book or a well-strategised game of chess with her grandfather, and oh did she learn how to hate blood purity. in all the stories of the fantastical daisy hookum and tilden toots one thing was always abundantly clear - they would never stand for blood purity and they were willing to die for that cause. and it was not just blood purity that seph’s grandparents hated either - no one at the ministry had been willing to stick their nose out to find their beloved son and daughter-in-law, and they couldn’t help but hold resentment towards everyone for not caring enough for two people who had brought nothing but love to the world.
these stories and this hatred bred paranoia in poor little persephone - she, herself, was a witch after all, and she would eventually have to attend hogwarts along with all the other wixen. what if one of them had ties to the people that hurt her parents, presuming they had been hurt? what if they hated her as much as they presumably hated them? what if she was destined to be alone forever because no one could love the daughter of muggle sympathisers?
of course, none of this was true, and though she was quiet and somewhat withdrawn, persephone would grow to find love within the walls of hogwarts. in fact, hogwarts was where persephone learned how to unlock her full potential - how to follow in the footsteps of her great mother and father. having been sorted into ravenclaw the moment the hat laid rest on her head (the same house as her mother), persephone embraced her innovation and creativity that had been cultivated in the quiet household of her childhood. she might not have been as book smart as her mother or as quick with a wand as her father, but she was clever and strategic and more than belonging in the house of the ravens. she would lace flowers together into a crown and smile at anyone that passed her in the halls and sit quietly in the back of the duelling club’s meetings, taking notes with the fury of someone who wanted to make a difference in this world.
persephone flew through her years at hogwarts with all the grace and determination that one had come to expect from her. she did well for her classes, she was respected on the quidditch team, and though she might not have been the most popular girl in school (in fact many people hardly noticed her) she was happy and content, proud to have those she called friend close to her. her grades were high enough and her skills polished enough to get her into any job she wished for once she graduated - the only problem was, she had no idea what she wanted to do.
persephone liked to draw, but not enough to become an artist. she liked to fly, but not enough to become a professional quidditch player. she liked to volunteer with the healers in the hospital wing, but not enough to become a healer. nothing felt like enough to her - all this talent and kindness and sweet smiles and she didn’t have the passion to fuel it anywhere.
feeling discontent with where she was in life and pressured to actually do something, persephone joined the daily prophet as a junior journalist, deciding that maybe she could take after her mother - maybe she could write. and for a while, she was quite good. she started out with small fluff pieces that simply filled the pages and moved quickly onto heavier pieces that made it closer and closer to the front page, displaying the skills she had inherited with her mother by moving ever so quickly into investigate journalism.
and as soon as it had started it seemed it was over. she was warned not to tell a soul of why she’d been let go, but she longed to scream about it. persephone had gotten too good, she’d gotten too nosy, and as soon as she had laid an article on the editors desk detailing the corrupt nature of the ministry in one of most bold investigative pieces yet, she was let go. she was threatened, albeit lightly, to keep her mouth shut. and if she were anyone else, this might’ve gone right over her head. but she was fired a year ago now and still everyone (including her closest friends and family) believe she left of her own will. she’s not scared, that would perhaps be the wrong word - she’s cautious. persephone is careful and methodical and knows that a revolution cannot start in chaos if you wish to win. she wanted a revolution so bad when she was working for the prophet and she went about it the wrong way - a part of her is guilty for what she did, and so she keeps her mouth shut. her findings were blown up in a quiet corner of the department of mysteries and now she’s the only one who really knows.
she’s been working as a barmaid for the last year and frankly she hates it, but persephone has never been one to complain. at least she has a job, she says, at least she has a roof over her head. once again she is discontent with where she is at in life, even if she refuses to admit it. she has no idea where to go, what to do, and she’ll continue serving the drinks she refuses to sip if it gives her an income. she hates it but she won’t complain - it’s not in her nature.
the timeclash came as a shock to dear old seph. in all her investigations into the ministry, this one had not come up - that they might fuck up so badly that people disappear and those from the past suddenly reappear. because of course it’s the ministry’s fault - she knows it in her gut. a part of her feels that itch that she felt working for the prophet again, that itch for the revolution, to speak up, to put the ministry under a microscope and expose them for what they are, for what they’ve done. but the other part of her couldn’t care less about investigation - what if her parents are here? her personal heroes, her knights in shining armour. what if they’re here, walking around, the same age as her with bright the smiles of someone who doesn’t know they’re going to die soon. she wants to find them before anything else - family comes first, after all.
❛ they witnessed her destruction, then were left to wonder why she saw nothing but darkness, though the stars SHONE in her eyes, but maybe they’d forgotten, when they failed to see the c r a c k s, that a star’s light shines the brightest when it’s starting to collapse. ❜
“For women who are tied to the moon, love alone is not enough. We insist each day wrap it’s knuckles through our heart strings and pull. The lows, the joy, the poetry. We dance at the edge of a cliff. You have fallen off. So it goes. You will climb up again.”
— Letter from Anaïs Nin to Clementine Von Radics.
(via funeraltango)
“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return.”
