Joe Mumma (t.m.r.)

joe mumma (t.m.r.)

more chad rosier, can possibly be prequel to kobe! idek rosier like that but i decided to just make him a basura character. |tom x reader. hiding reader trope-my favorite. some slytherin gang action.| possible warnings: implications of chad rosier being a creep, abraxas having a booty so big lord have mercy.

“reinhard…” malfoy stopped struggling momentarily.

“what?”

“i’m stuck…”

“merlin on a tricycle…” lestrange facepalmed with the hand not occupied holding onto the broom, “how?” the blonde tried pushing himself further through the window, collapsing his arms after failing.

“i don’t know i’m just stuck! (y/n) push harder!” he yells behind him.

“i’m trying!” you strain as you continue to push against his butt.

“try harder!”

“it’s your belt-i-i think it’s stuck—”

“girl you know these hips don’t lie!”

reinhard lestrange looked down and noticed the night lanterns turning on, signaling the nearing of curfew.

“get a move on you two! slughorn will be back any minute!” he lectured. right on queue, a prefect on watch was approaching the door, curious at the commotion.

“wait almost there, abraxas wiggle a little!” he obeys and does his little dancey dance. that along with your back pushing against his behind, finally had him flying out the window. lestrange gripped onto malfoys forearm, hoisting him up onto the broom behind him. both boys looking at you expectedly, but before you could even take another step, the door comes creaking open.

“it’s slughorn! go go i’ll cover for you!” you shoo your friends despite their reluctant pleas.

“y/l/n.” you shut the window and do a full 180-crazy, to be met with well, not your detention professor.

“riddle.”

“if i am not mistaken, i think you were attempting to abandon your detention while slughorn is in his meeting.”

“um no…” you deny. he quirked an amused eyebrow.

this should be interesting.

“what else could you have possibly be doing at the window then?” you scramble for an excuse.

“i saw…a bird?”

he blinked.

“a bird?”

“a bird, yes” you said with more confidence. tom scoffs.

“do you find me to be a simpleton?”

“i’m not sure how i should answer that-“

“i’m taking you to slughorn.” the slytherin prefect grabs you by the wrist and pulls you alongside him.

snitch. at least malfoy got away.

“two lemon drop fizzles,” you bribe.

“no”

“three?”

“you can’t bribe me with candy, (y/l/n). i’m not a child.” he says blankly, still stringing you behind him. the grip on your arm much softer now that he knew you wouldn’t fight it.

“and i said—joe mumma!” a familiar voice rounds the corner at the end of the hall, stopping you dead in your tracks.

rosier. audience boo’s.

accamponied by mulciber and black, he was headed straight toward you and the slytherin prefect.

he had to tendency to harass you with his unreciprocated desires to date. whether right now would be another attempt with tom around, you didn’t know, but we ain’t taking any chances tf.

“what is wrong with you?” riddle sighs impatiently.

turning around equally curious and concerned at the silent response. expecting a witty remark, he instead sees you hesitantly stepping behind an alcove…hiding. he followed your worried gaze to the brunette with his head turned to his friend, laughing about something. rosier waves off to his counterparts as they part ways.

as the boy approached, tom tried to puzzle together the connection between you two.

nothing came up.

perhaps even the most observant of people can miss out on other peoples lives when they’re so focused on their own. you were only a housemate, abraxas and reinhards friend, occasionally you two would run into each other at the library, and here and there you would best him in class marks—but not to the point where you became a threat to him. tom didn’t pay you much mine, respectfully. but now that he thought of it, he did recall a few short conversations you and rosier shared briefly between classes and after instruction, but you didn’t seem all the interested-

“riddle, i didn’t know you were on duty for this wing of the castle” rosier interrupts his thoughts. coming back to reality, tom didn’t realize how he had reached him down the corridor already.

suddenly he remembered you. behind him. and his body halfway turned.

“yes, well,” he stands a bit taller and turns fully toward rosier, his back blocking you from his view. “i believe prefect matters are of the concern of prefects, rosier. enjoy the rest of your evening.” tom does his best to end the conversation before it could even start. he had better use of his time, like ratting you out to slughorn.

“right,” you hear him respond, but you didn’t hear the sound of him leaving, making you hide deeper in the space of the wall. “have you happened to see (y/l/n) while on your rounds? i didn’t see her leave potions earlier-“

everything clicked in toms head, his eyebrows furrowing in disturbance, his throat needing clearing. tom squared his shoulders even more, encasing you into the wall. it was starting to get dark in the alcove 🤨

“i have not. and may i remind you that as a prefect, it is my duty to ensure the safety of all students.” he warns.

ooh girrrl. rosier’s confidence is thrown out the window, as he takes a cautious step back, muttering a farewell and scurrying off. a sigh of relief escapes you.

“alright he’s gone now,” tom informs, stepping away from you.

“ah tom! just who i wanted to see!” dear gods. tom grabs your wrist and pulls you back behind him, shielding you once again. he clears his throat to mask your yelp.

“professor slughorn, how was your meeting, sir?” tom asks politely. your eyebrows knit together in confusion rather than nervousness.

was the whole point of this not to bring you to slughorn?

“tom you should be patrolling dungeon corridors, whatever are you doing up here?”

busted.

toms hand squeezes unintentionally as he thinks.

“i saw a bird.” he says emotionlessly.

“a-“ professor chuckles, “i’m sorry, tom. did you say a bird?” you slap your other hand over your mouth trying not to burst into laughter.

“yes, a bird. i was trying to release it out…a window.” you were impressed he kept up with the lie.

“oh very well then,” he processes, “i will see you tomorrow.” tom goodbyes the professor politely. a sigh of relief leaves the both of you.

“a bird…” slughorn chuckles to himself as he walks down the corridor.

full creds to vid owner. i don’t support christian walker or his ideas but boy does he make a meme.

tom to rosier whenever he has the audacity:

instant family (t.m.r.)

parent figure tom? pretty short with a lil sum sum at the end. there’s not enough dad!tom content so I tried to make my own. dad!tom makes me think of two people-- edward father cullen (first part) and Klaus daddy michaelson (second part). anyway...

“hand me the child.” you would have happily obliged if the crying baby wasn’t already seized from your arms. you were about to go off on him, but the site in front of you softened the crease in between your eyebrows. strong forearms cradling the length of the baby’s body, and a hand impressively supporting the neck and head. you have never seen tom so delicate, yet protective. it was almost funny seeing tom and his tall ass self with such a small little thing.

“you do small bounces,” tom demonstrated, the infants cries lowering to heavy breaths of sniffles.

your pride usually would’ve gotten the best of you, pushing you to say something along the lines of not needing toms help. the first two days he avoided the child like it had the plague. he didn’t even want to take in silas in the first place.

“please tom, walburga is my friend, and you know how her family is. the Black family won’t have a scandal. the baby has nowhere to go!” he finally agreed, but made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the baby. you knew what you were getting into. tom not being the biggest fan of children was never news. he didn’t hate them, but he didn’t seem like one to volunteer at a nursery either. maybe it was because he was forced to be around them growing up at Wool’s…that’s what you figured.

“and white noise, they like that,” he added, voice no louder than a whisper, eyes focused on silas’ face the whole time. you stood there mouth gaping like a fish. the baby had been bawling for hours. you tried feeding him, shaking his one toy left from his mother, and nothing seemed to satisfy him for more than two minutes. he did seem to have fun pulling on your hair until he nearly scalped you, forcing you to open his little hand. that’s what really upset him. and here comes tom riddle who apparently not only talks to snakes but also speaks baby.

“how are you so good at this?” you spoke softly, mimicking toms tone. you gently placed a hand on his shoulder to take a peek at the baby who was fighting sleep as if he had other places to be.

“at the orphanage, there was a newborn named gabriel.” the words came out of toms mouth effortlessly. the few times he talked about his time in london were not of detail. and he was usually much more guarded and careful with his delivery. “because of the war, the orphanage didn’t have the staff to take in another child, especially an infant. so i looked after him,” silas coo’d and stretched his small arms, twisting in toms arms. he settled down soon after, sleep winning.

you were lost at words. tom didn’t like sympathy he saw it as pity. you didn’t want to push more questions either. his vulnerability to talk about Wools was enough really.

“thank you for sharing that with me my love,” the best you could do, as you leaned into his arm watching the baby’s sleeping form. tension released from toms shoulders.

“rest now, syphilis,” he whispered, running a hand over the infants small head. you smiled at his affection, then lifted your head abruptly to look at your partner.

“tom, his name is silas…”

“oh.”

bonus headcannon 

in another life where tom is not so experienced and has a son

tom as a new parent was interesting. he may have read every book in the library on parenting, but let’s be real, nothing could ever fully prepare one for a baby. “oh no, no stop crying. y-y/n! come here! it’s crying!” he panicked, relief crossing his face the moment you walked in.“it??”

but seeing tom not being perfectly good at something was amusing. well, maybe not for him though...“it’s not going on,” tom says says in between grunts. he was currently trying to twist the baby’s foot into the shoe. his son just sat there like a sack of potato’s staring down at his father helplessly. “and he’s not even helping!”

although he did get frustrated at times, tom riddle discovered that parenthood is not a task, but rather a journey. and there were definitely rewards in addition to being a dad. “you should’ve seen it, he was crawling!” you dropped your bag onto the couch and walked toward him. “really?! where i wanna see!” tom grinned excitedly. “right over…oh no where did he go…” tom whipped his head around looking for the toddler. the familiar mop of curly black hair was spotted near the staircase, crawling at superhero speed. “no no no stairs is next week’s lesson!”

of course, what is a riddle heir without a father that wishes nothing but success for their child? “my son, one day you will rule the masses…” he spoke softly to the one year old passed out in his arms. “tom…” you warned.

diary of a witchy kid (t.m.r.)

summary: tomothy chalamets diary falls into the wrong hands…or maybe even the right ones… 

happy new years eve/new years! be safe out there. this blog is only four months old and I have enjoyed my stay so far. thank you for the encouraging messages and post appreciations y'all send! omg I can now say I have internet friends because growing up my immigrant parents wouldn't let me have any ahdkfhsfhs 

here’s my attempt at a little more serious fic but it’s not sad or anything just leaning more toward early scheming/taking over the world tom who can’t identify what a crush is ^.^

when avery dropped the book on the table, your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull. tom had a diary? in unison, lestrange, nott, and abraxas moved back in their chairs as if it were a bomb.

“avery what the bloody f*ck?” the blonde looked up at him, “what do you think you’re doing with that thing?”

“i can feel the evil oozing out of its pages…” nott whispered dramatically, grabbing onto reinhard lestranges robes while eyeing the book. you stared at the inanimate item innocently sitting in the middle of the study table. black leather. gold letters of tom marvolo riddle branded as its title. it wasn’t cracking with electricity around it, it didn’t open up to have teeth like the monster book of monsters, and there was no aura around it indicating a hex. why was everyone treating it like a cursed item?

“i thought you lot might’ve been more amused.” averys excited grin had vanished long ago. “there’s got to be hundreds of secrets-“

“except this is toms diary,” lestrange reminded, lightly pulling nott of of him to readjust his collar. “he’ll kill us if he catches us.“

you have never talked to the man the myth the legend one on one. you were new to the school this year, new to slytherin, but he didn’t seem to mind you as an addition to the group, though he never went out of his way to talk to you either. you assumed that being second ranked and distantly related to nott made you tolerable. consequently, your knowledge of tom was small. he was quiet, kept to himself, somewhat dark, and seemed to have a dominant presence over your new friends.

“when who catches you?” a flat voice appeared behind abraxas. your instincts reactively changing the diary into another book. hopefully he didn’t notice.

“merlin, he moves like a prius…” you mumbled to yourself.

“when uh…ravenclaw uh…catches these hands the next match!” nott grinned nervously. your eyes shifted toward your second cousin, curious to see how a situation like this would play out.

“ah, yes, the last one was,” lestrange coughed, “not our best.” the most recent ravenclaw game ended with avery in the hospital wing when a bludger dislocated his shoulder. rather than guarding, he was lost in a trance staring at athena lovegood smiling and waving at him in the stands. 

you watched the boys intently, dead still in their seats, anxious about the little leather book mocking them as it sat idly on the wooden surface. what was so terrifying about him?

tom didn’t respond. luckily for them, he didn’t care about quidditch. the tension is everyone’s shoulders relaxed as he turned around and ran his fingers along the spines of the books.

“i see…” he said dryly. in a panick abraxas snatched the diary off the table and tossed it to avery.

“put it back where you found it,” he whispered.

“no way, he’ll skin me!” avery deflected the task to nott, throwing it to him. nott gripped it by its spine as he glanced over his shoulder to tom who was distracted by the shelf, flipping through one of the books.

“oh hell no!” he passed it to lestrange, but before it could even land from its flight in the air, the slytherin flicked his wand, sending the book into your chest.

“no!” your arms wrapped around it instinctively, the force nearly knocking you out of the wooden chair. not sure what to do, you shoved the diary under your jumper. why did they have to involve you?

“is something wrong, (y/l/n)?” tom asked, returning the book to its spot. you froze on the spot. it might’ve been the first time he had acknowledged you by name.

“no.” you responded.

“then why did you say no?”

“me? i didn’t say that.” riddle quirked an eyebrow at you. to the average persons eye, you were your average teenage girl—good grades, gets along well with peers, but there was something else. and it wasn’t just your grades. you were effortlessly likeable by peers, charming even. professors liked calling on you and offering you more challenging work, treatment only tom received. yet of all the groups you could have inserted yourself in, you chose his. and they gladly accepted you. why? something was different, off even, but he didn’t look into it because it didn’t seem to pose as a threat. deep down, you reminded tom of himself and he didn't know how to feel about it.

“i am confident you did.”

“oh, it’s because lestrange asked if i’d be his girlfriend, so i said no.” the corner of your mouth twitched in amusement. it wasn’t much, but seeing reinhard lestrange get flustered was revenge in it of itself.

“is that true, lestrange?” tom asked.

“….yes…” he sighed in defeat, sending a deathly glare your way.

“tough…” the salazar heir tsk’d, nearly letting a grin slip at the thought of you rejecting lestrange.

*.*.*.*

the following days were surpringly not awful. tom didn’t seem to notice his missing diary, and if he did you weren’t a suspect. you didn’t know exactly what to do with it. slipping into the head boys room and placing it in a “misplaced” area was stupid. tom didn’t seem like the person to misplace things, so he would definitely get suspicious— that is if he didn’t already sense someone forcefully entered his dwelling. avery claimed that he found the diary wedged in one of toms unattended textbooks during a late night study session. surely, you could put it back into one of his books if you got close enough. you just had to get the timing right.

while you waited for that window, you read the diary. accidentally, that is.

the third day after the hot potato journal in the library, your elbow knocked over your stack of books while writing your divinations essay, the book fell open.

june 22

i hate coming back here every summer…

no, this is wrong... you shut the diary and think for a minute. 

to read this is public that is. 

you have never ran to your room so quick, which was fortunately empty.

june 22

i hate coming back here every summer. the moment i step into wools orphanage i search for the nearest spoon to kill myself with.

yikes, starting off strong i see.

june 23

madam spinsky has me washing the floorboards like orphan annie. my welcome back present from “my vacation” at “boarding school”.

june 25

abraxas has invited me to the stay at the manor. his father will take care of my transportation. maybe i’ll put the spoon down for this summer.

each entry was short, but enough to put together the important parts of tom riddle. he was an orphan, a master charismatic, and most importantly-- wizard prodigy whose talents went beyond hogwarts curriculum. he seemed to always be scheming, sought after something larger. but rather than be frightened, you were intrigued.

september 1

there is a new girl. she is attractive.

you shut the book close, eyes wide. you look up finding a 5’5 brown haired girl in pajamas.

“janey, hi,” you say breathlessly. how long has your roommate been standing there? what time was it?

“are you alright, (y/n)? you’re sweating.” she stared in concern. her eyes fell to the book in your hands, smartly disguised as a romance novel. your eyes followed.

“steamy chapter,” you grin sheepishly. not the proudest of lies you have ever told, but it did the trick.

“oh, right…” she smiles awkwardly, cheeks going red. janey proceeded to slip under covers and kill the light in her bedside lantern. from the corner of the room you were sitting in you looked around and realized your two other roommates were also fast asleep.

the next day you went to the one person you could trust.

“what the bloody hell-“ nott cursed as he felt something grip onto his ankle. “oh sh-“ he was cut off by his fall to the ground and screamed as he was dragged underneath the table.

“(y/n)! you lunatic! you ever think of contacting me, i don’t know… literally any other way?” he exhaled.

“yeah yeah whatever, i’m hiding from riddle remember. anyway, look at this…” you opened the diary.

october 4

myrtle elizabeth warren grinds my gears.

you flipped forward a couple of pages as your cousins eye brows furrowed at the sheets of paper.

october 14

(y/n) (y/l/n) did wandless magic when she thought she was alone. she might be of use.

“this one,” you pointed to the entry. “what does it mean?” nott moved closer, taking the book and bringing it up to a more comfortable eye level.

“(y/n), this page is blank.”

“hardy har har you’re a real jester, nott.” you rolled your eyes. but the concerned look on his face told you he wasn’t joking. you took the diary back and looked down at the words that were 100% there. not worried, you flipped through the pages. they were all filled.

“they’re all blank. i believe you, but i don’t see anything.” well at least he didn’t think you were crazy.

“interesting…” you whisper to yourself. returning the book was pushed even further in the back of your mind. it was one thing to want to avoid tom because of a school boy crush, but another if he was plotting something and wanted you involved.

that night you were finishing the last two weeks of entries. tom had stopped writing five days prior to Avery taking it. he talked about a chamber, but didn’t go into detail. despite feeling like you have gotten to know tom on a deeper level that any other student has (with exception to his friends), it still felt like the diary was reserved. it seems that tom riddle didn’t even trust himself enough. rightfully so i guess, because what has two thumbs and read the whole thing? this guyyy...

after october 28, the last entry, you turned the page. just cuz.

give it back

ummm that doesn’t make sense. maybe we’re seeing things. you flipped the page back to october 28, then back to the next.

the ink seemed to be appearing as if an invisible hand were writing.

i know you have it, whoever you are

with that, you shut the diary and put all your books in your enchanted bag, slinging it over your shoulder. the diary was where it always was—tucked in your waistband under your jumper. you swiftly made your way out of the back of the library scanning your path as you walked briskly.

“you…” a voice spoke from down the corridor. your head whipped to the left seeing a very familiar head boy stalking his way toward you. you were lost in shock, the library door closing with a thud woke you up.

“expelliarmus!” you waved your hand sending the wand flying out of his hand, anticipating that he might stun you. distracted for half a second from astonishment, you made a run for it. your mary janes pounded the stone floor as you sprinted down the corridor. you were sure riddle went to retrieve his wand, giving you a few seconds as a head start. but soon enough, you heard his footsteps coming after you.

“(y/l/n)!” your heart was beating in your ears as you felt your abdomen burn. the sensation grew to your chest as you pumped your legs even farther. eventually you found yourself heading toward the astronomy tower. “stop running!” you could sense him getting closer.

“expelliarmus!” the clink of the wooden object smacking against the wall distracted him again. “and stop doing that!”

you reached the top of the tower. the midnight chill hitting your face. you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold, slowing down as you realized there was no where else to run. you had to face whatever was to come.

tom caught himself against the wall as he made his way to the top of the steps. wand in hand.

defensively you brought yours up, prepared to duel.

“what are you doing?” tom looked at you blankly, now approaching you.

“locomotor mortis!” you chanted. he blocked it effortlessly.

“stupefy!” deflected. he keeper moving forward.

“expelli-“ a sharp breath passed your lips as you felt your upper body tip back. your upper and lower body teetering, your lower back keeping the balance against the ledge. tom grabbed onto your forearms pulling you toward him. you gasp, slowly looking up at him. why didn’t he let you fall, or push you even?

“aren’t you going to kill me?” you whispered. there haven’t been many times you have seen a a fully expressed emotion on tom riddles face. but if you weren’t quaking in your boots at the moment, you’d be more surprised at his stunned expression.

“breaking curfew isnt exactly the most heinous of crimes, (y/l/n).” your face dropped along with the tenseness in your body. 

oh. well this is awkward.

“why did you chase me then?” you looked at him like accusingly.

“because you ran first, and disarmed me before doing so.” he narrowed his eyes, “and correct me if i’m wrong (y/n), but you have been avoiding me this past week.” you gulp nervously. you have never had a personal conversation with the wizard, nonetheless be this close to him. it was beginning to feel overwhelming.

his breath was cool, you can smell mints as it fanned your face. his grip was strong on your arms, and his chest was inches from touching yours. tom sensed your unease and used it toward his advantage.

“what are you hiding?” he asked in a lower tone, pulling you closer to him. your noses were nearly touching now. tom looked down between you two.

“what is this?”

the diary.

before you could react, tom guided his hand down to the hem of your jumper. you froze still. his eyebrows were furrowed, watching his own movements. the moment his fingers met the grooves and texture of the leather bound book, his eyes shot up to yours, piercing into them. tom leaned into you more, holding the diary up beside his head. you inhaled sharply. wow he smells nice.

“you are able read it,” he mused, grinning.

“indeed” was all you could breathe out. even in the most terrifying of times your responses were always entertaining to him. you didn’t even deny it.

was he not surprised that you had it this whole time? was he even looking for it? would it even matter if it became lost if no one could read it? hotel? trivago.

“no one should be able to read it, but you can…” tom studied your face. it was an enchanted diary, made specifically for the owner and the owners eyes only. “i knew there was something about you (y/n) (y/l/n).”

it appears this diary was trouble this whole time, just in a different way the slytherin boys have warned about. it’s one thing to be an enemy of tom riddle, but something else to be of his interest.

summary: early on in their relationship, reader is still a little shy around thomas thee stallion.

“may i see your notes ?” tom asked as he began to pack up. you stopped dead in your tracks, caught off guard.

“um…”

“i missed the last part she mentioned about the life line when palm reading.” he reasoned.

your divinations professor sipped her tea in the background, knowing dang well her lesson was not on palm reading that day. but you didn’t know that, and neither did the head boy. you were off doodling, while he was distracted staring at you from across the class.

“ah, i didn’t write any…” you excused, avoiding eye contact.

“don’t be silly, i saw you jotting down notes,” he grinned slightly, then stopped when he realized what he said.

professor poured more tea into her cup.

wanting to move past his slip up, he gently grabbed your books from you, hoisting them up on top of his. why were you acting so suspicious?

the salazar heir took your parchment sticking out from its spot wedged into your divinations book.

“oh” he said awkwardly, eyeing your page sized sketch of a cat.

“yeah…” you say embarrassed.

“well at least add some whiskers”

bro in 2014-2016 i read a reader/ocxdraco fanfic that was more of a comedy than romance it was pretty cannon except for the fact that the reader/oc shot voldemort during the battle of hogwarts cuz her evil stepdad was working with him or something…idk i can’t find it and wish i could reread it for the memories. is there an account or site where people help look for hp fanfics?

read hierarchy of need by iimplicity if you haven’t 😩😩