Oct 13, 2025
Kind of interesting watching these side by side... the approaches were quite different actually. I learned some things from one to the next!
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Kind of interesting watching these side by side... the approaches were quite different actually. I learned some things from one to the next!
So I made this for anyone who would like to use it!
Steam - Peter Gabriel (1992)
heLp my silly little lich-roleplay smut fic is getting sad and emotioNaL - this was supposed to be funny
It’s not that Harry hadn’t understood Tom’s desire to rule the world someday, somehow. It’s just that…well, he hadn’t.
Harry knew one thing: Tom worked harder than anyone else. Even if Hermione sometimes shook her head in disbelief, Harry would insist. It was a fact he refused to shake.
He had watched Tom’s every step: picked him up from the orphanage during summers, sat with him in magical and muggle libraries alike, and saw him cast spell after spell to prepare for every practical, every test. And when Hogwarts was over and done, Harry watched how Tom climbed the political ladders, smooth-talked the right people, made the best connections, and cared for worthy causes. Tom didn’t just get handed the Minister’s desk; he earned it.
And sitting in Tom’s office, behind this desk, waiting for the Minister—waiting for his husband—leaning his forearms on the smooth glossy wood top and letting his fingertips trail official documents too silky soft to be made of any standard old parchment…Harry could maybe see the appeal. He could finally understand the why.
There was a kind of rush sitting here, the type that only spurred from certain knowledge and a level of instilled confidence that most probably didn’t have, weren’t taught, weren’t born with, or didn’t need. That giddy feeling like he was suddenly unstoppable. And it came with a package deal, the desk, the office, the title and all.
But Tom was someone with plenty of confidence and certainty in his knowledge. Harry would definitely describe him as someone naturally unstoppable as well. So was the shine of everything just a facade? Did it hide a type of reassurance, maybe?
Tom seemingly didn’t need something like reassurance, but coming from nothing surely had its impact. So even if he had all those qualities in spades, all the shine and extra little things—parts to a whole picture that made up the idealised vision Tom had of power—maybe they gave Tom the proof he needed more than anyone else.
And if that were the case, Harry would just have to continue to strive to support Tom no matter what. Show him he didn’t require all of this, hadn’t had it all this time, and wouldn’t need it later.
Harry continued to admire the room and desk in a newfound light, lost in his thoughts. The feeling of the office wards parting like liquid, a waterfall of severing magic, brought him out of his musing.
He called out, lilting, “I’ve been waiting, you know.”
“Long?” Tom’s voice trickled in from the other side of the slightly ajar door. After all, one couldn’t just apparate directly into the Minister’s office. There was a floo room for the reception of guests and where Tom’s assistant would eventually make base.
“Hmm, no. Not very.” Harry rested his head on his palms and watched Tom enter the office. His eye sought Tom’s playful smirk immediately.
“Really?” Tom scoffed. And it was music to Harry’s ears. “Odd, considering you look oh so comfortable.”
“Well, I figured I’d make myself at home. Merlin knows you’ll be living out of this office soon enough.“ He spun and pointed to a random wall, “I’m thinking of requesting a bed in that corner. What do you think?” Harry asked teasingly, pleased to hear Tom’s soft, breathy laughter, catching the tail end of Tom’s shaking head as he turned back around. The slow kind filled with fondness.
Harry personally thought it would be a great place for a bed, considering the beautiful window with a magical view of anywhere they picked on the wall just across from it. Ah, well. One could dream.
Or… Harry grinned. “So, do you have enough time to christen the office, Mister Minister?”
Tom paused, stopping just in front of his desk. “No…” He said, yet took Harry’s hand and brought it to his lips, placing a warm drawn-out kiss on the back of his palm. “But for you? I’ll make plenty.”
I mean. I know your family's been Shinto for, like, ten generations?
Longer.
But that doesn't mean CRAP to a vampire!
i'm not looking forward to tomorrows ep bc i'm telling you now, i'll be in tears, but i literally cannot wait any longer to cry about it properly
who remembers spin art?
You know, the thing that you squirt paint onto and it spins around and makes a kind of trippy but sort of cool splatter design?
That’s what my brain is doing with new writing ideas this week. Just... slopping them onto a spinning canvas with no regard for human life. It is such a mess in there.
All I wanted out of this week was to finish one (1) chapter of a current wip - on which I have made some headway but STILL - here I am with three (3) BRAND FUCKING NEW ideas just splattering around with reckless abandon.
a quick little Ezra drabble
a NOT quick thing about pre-outbreak Joel
a dieter smut that actually fits with the paint splatter motif now that I think of it
And the worst part? I WANT TO WRITE THEM ALL. But I also want to write all the other things already on my plate.
Someone tell me no. Someone slap me and tell me to finish ONE (1) FUCKING THING.
...or if anyone is feeling devilish, you can ask me about these new splatter ideas