#and they get trinkets back for harry from everywhere they go

[padfootastic]

thinking of qpp prongsfoot in their 30s/40s who’d devoted their entire life to harry (and any other potential kids) and now that he’s moved out of the house, have so much free time on their hands that they don’t know what to do with.

so they pick up new hobbies, travel around the world, learn how to live as individuals, fall in love all over again.

[vanillafalvoredcoffee]

Aliana's (Younger Yonaka) imaginary friends :)

1. Harry the Hare

Harry is her very first (imaginary) friend she ever had, Her mom made him for her on her 6th birthday so she cherished it very much.

Harry the Hare is a doll shaped rabbit but Yonaka believes that he was a hare because of the brown color, his eyes are two shiny black buttons.

She brings him everywhere with her, even at school or when she's sneaking out of her house.

She didn't have much friends at the time because she doesn't really know how to interact with her classmates so she ended up being very lonely, her family didn't really come home much either...she usually talks to Harry or her other dolls when she's lonely

She describes him as a really kind and gentle animal, and that he doesn't like to eat spicy food

Aliana is very gentle with him and would never dare to hurt him even a little bit but she does injured him at least once so she puts her sewing skills to good use and fix him right up!

2. The lady in the woods

Aliana heard about a spirit that likes to roam around the woods by the teachers in her school close to the church,

She's told that the spirit takes form as a woman whose as tall as the trees, some of them told her that if any naughty children that ran away from home and to the forest where she lives will be devoured alive...ah yes, a classic story to scare the children from going to the forest alone...

Unfortunately that makes Aliana even more intrigued to find her in the woods but she's still to afraid that she may disappoint the spirit if she just suddenly came to her home unannounced like that

One day she was told to get a random classmate's ball inside the woods since they get a little carried away while they're playing

Aliana is the only one 'willing' enough to get the ball for them though...she does feel a bit anxious when she steps inside

She found the ball quite quickly but when she turns back to return it to her friends...she forgot her way back, she wondered around for a while a then she found a large figure standing in front of her and asked why she's here

...When Aliana told the figure that she's came here to retrieve her friend's ball, the figure seems to be quite amused by her reply and lead her back towards the school, telling her to be more careful next time or else she'll be eaten

After that Aliana starts to visit The lady in the woods more often, even though the lady in the woods tries to scare her off by showing her real form...it just makes Aliana even more excited and curious about her so The lady just gave up and let Aliana talk to her

Honestly The lady is secretly kinda lonely and kinda enjoys talking to Yonaka but she's too shy to admit it

The lady in the woods often gifts Aliana some trinkets made of some stuff near her, sometimes she would sculpture a doll that's entirely made of wood just for her to thank her for keeping this old spirit company

The lady in the woods always wears a traditional Japanese red kimono, her sickly pale white skin is slightly transparent and shines a green glow in the dark, the only thing that odd about her except the glowing skin is that she has sunken white eyes with no pupils, Her black hair is longer than her entire body when it's let down so she usually kept her hair up with pin and only let it down when she needs to comb her hair...and also she's tall very tall

The Lady in the woods likes both animals and nature, she knows how to sculpture small dolls and made toys made of woods...that's about it

3. Bernardus Pinot Noir and His brothers (and her nameless grandfather)

(Now...this is where it gets interesting...)

It was shortly after she turned 7 years-old where her Grandfather suddenly showed up to celebrate her birthday, ofcourse her mom was definitely not pleased by his presence and she's afraid that he'll treat her only child the same as he did to her, Surprisingly he treats Aliana really well and Yonaka seems to really like him...he even brought her a present just for this occasion! How nice of him...but it's not just him who prepared a present for her

Her parents also gave her a present too!

What her parents gave to her is a custom made diary made out of leather with her name printed on to it, but it was quite a small one...not that she would complain about it ofcourse!

The present from her grandfather is a.... simple hairpin with a shape of a cross, at the middle of it there's a blood red ruby embedded on it...the hairpin seems to be very high quality but her grandfather is also very rich, something like this would probably just be a scrap of metal to him...even so, Aliana seems to really like it!

Ofcourse...Aliana's mom became very confused by his sudden caring behavior, she thought it was a joke at first

Well....that was until Aliana's grandfather came to her in secret and apologized to her directly and saying that he regretted what he had done to make his own daughter hated him to this extent

He had abused her emotionally, physically and mostly verbally in the past...He was very upset about his wife's sudden death after she birthed two twins so he let it out onto them out of grief and anger...But he also doesn't want to lose his reputation that he built up for so long, so he occasionally acts nice to them in public- He even takes pictures of them and stuffs it in his photo album.

Deeply inside him, he still loves his daughter but he's so blinded by his emotions that he couldn't even control it even if he tries...he tries his best not to give in to them but...it's too late

Because of that...the only thing he could do is to win her trust...somehow...

And that's why he acts nice to Aliana!

He gradually gets his daughter's trust after seeing him trying so hard to do that for so long...She even trusts him with her daughter when they go away.

Anyway...enough about her grandfather you know who you're waiting for right?

One day when Bernardus was just happened to walk around the graveyard beside the church she's in often...and chanting sorrowful yet gentle apologies over and over again...you know like he always does, Aliana notices him crouching down in front of one of the graves

He was shocked at first...How could a mere human like her perceives his identity when he used the power of invisibility? Though...maybe it's just his powers weakens for a short period of time it happens randomly before so...he just stares blankly at the girl waiting for her to shout for her mommy and run away...but instead she said hi with a soft expression. Huh..

For a while they...talked...mostly it was Aliana asking questions about him but it doesn't bother Bernardus too much...it's been a long time since anyone wanted to talk to him afterall...

"How curious...a human wanting to be friends with me?...Aren't you afraid of what I could do?" He asked Aliana while she just nodded excitedly.

"Ofcourse I do! You look so cool! And...I see you looking really sad so...I thought you needed someone to talk to!" Aliana replied.

...

Ah...what a kind hearted child she is.

He swore himself to protect the cinnamon roll from now on after that conversation ...no matter the cost :)

He then transformed himself to be more like her grandfather since at that time she likes him the most but...it doesn't work all that much :( but he decides to keep that look anyway because Aliana seems to like the priest outfit he's wearing.

Aliana couldn't touch him due to him being a shadow...her hands just phases right through him...and it made Aliana a little bit upset but she understands it...Bernardus however he doesn't want to see her sad so he uses his powers to possess one of her dolls so that they could at least interact physically with her...though it made him look kinda silly.

He mostly follows Aliana all the time...he doesn't really see anything wrong with it he's a guardian angel after all but he'll leave if Aliana wants privacy or she asks him too ofcourse!

Soon when his brothers know about Aliana...they are surely excited so they come and visit her

Euphrosynos is a little curious about this...little thing...and wondered why Bernardus takes a liking to her but over time he starts to like her as well! She reminds him of a cat sometimes...

Lyphiós instantly adores her...I mean...look at her, isn't she just a silly little creature? ...his words not mine.

Thymoménos however...doesn't seem to think much about her at a first glance...but actually he's holding himself back or else the cuteness aggression would kick in (lol)

That's it about them <3

[justforbooks]

It rained. Of course it did. It wouldn’t have been a proper coronation if it hadn’t. Brits wouldn’t have had it any other way. We were born to suffer. Keep calm and carry on.

The first guests had started arriving at Westminster Abbey from early in the morning. Among them the lucky MPs who had received an invitation. Though many Tories had been complaining it was all a stitch-up by Number 10. That Rishi Sunak had hand-picked favourites and those he wanted to get on side. Whatever. Let’s hope they had strong bladders. It was going to be a long morning.

As the cameras panned round the congregation, the BBC’s Huw Edwards desperately tried to pick out a few people he recognised. There was Ant and Dec. He didn’t know which was which but few do. Nick Cave. You can’t miss the jet-black hair. Stephen Fry behind a pillar somewhere. Jill Biden and her daughter near the back. The US president never attends these kinds of dos. President Macron wandering in, totally at home. He’s almost an honorary royal these days. In his own mind, at any rate.

Others started arriving. The lord speaker processing behind what looked like a large Toblerone. The seven former prime ministers. Boris Johnson and Liz Truss bringing up the rear. Johnson looking a right state as ever. There was no way he was going to make an effort even for this. Truss with the widest smile. She can’t believe her luck. Just 49 days in which she wrecked the country and she’s guaranteed a spot on every guest list for life. Living the dream.

Near the end, Prince Andrew and Harry. Andy was allowed a cape from the dressing-up box, Harry was in civvies. The message was clear: you can be accused of being a sexual predator. But don’t dare marry a black woman and spill the beans in your autobiography. Huw could barely bring himself to mention either of them.

Out in the Mall, Clare Balding was watching a horse walk sideways while the royal coach carrying King Charles and Camilla made its way to the Abbey. Balding pointed out all the flags of the Commonwealth countries, forgetting that many of them wanted to have their own heads of state. Then the cameras also forgot to broadcast the procession going through Trafalgar Square, where republican protesters were gathered. Nor did we get to hear Andrew being booed. This was too much lese-majesty for the occasion. Huw couldn’t have stood it.

Once the king and Camilla reached the abbey, a new procession made its way to the altar. Led by Sebastian Coe. What on earth was he doing here? He gets everywhere you don’t want him and even the royals haven’t found a way of keeping him out. Prince William, Kate and their children all looked as if they were extras from a remake of Cinderella. Then so did a lot of people. Brits like to think no other country does these occasions quite as well. Other countries may have a bit more self-worth. Still, the music was wonderful.

We’d been told that the king had wanted this to be a celebration of all faiths, but in reality this was a full-on Protestant extravaganza. Other faiths were restricted to either a one-line cameo or just a walk-on part. This was in all but name a sacred ritual, honouring Charles as the one true king and the Church of England as the one true religion.

And in truth, it quickly all began to drag a little. Justin Welby’s sermon was borderline unintelligible. Meaningless to most people. The two-hour service could have done with some editing down to 75 minutes. Still, at least it was an hour shorter than the late queen’s in 1953. Prince Louis went missing for large chunks. Lucky him. Perhaps he couldn’t be separated from his PlayStation.

“I am here to serve. Not to be served,” said Charles. Really? It didn’t look that way. The whole thing was being done for his benefit, after all. Though he did look strangely detached throughout. As if he didn’t really want to be there. As if it was all a bit much for him. He could take the trinkets but the obligations of kingship were too heavy a burden. Luckily, for once the pen with which he had to sign his name worked perfectly. Otherwise he might have snapped. The only time he looked vaguely cheerful was when the gospel choir sang.

Then we got to the real ceremony. First the anointing with holy oil that took place behind a screen because it was too sacred to be broadcast. A ritual we were told that went back to Solomon. Hmm. But Zadok the Priest always adds a touch of class. Then the Orb of Excellence, the Mace of Magnificence, the Spurs of the Surreal, the Gauntlet of Devotion, the Goblet of Fire. Or something.

Still, Penny Mordaunt was the breakout star with the Sword of Sincerity. Thank God, Truss got ousted. Otherwise we might have had Jacob Rees-Mogg doing it. The archbishop struggled to get the crown on, but eventually the king was crowned. Prince William swore allegiance and kissed his father. The one tender, personal moment of the entire ceremony. Even so, it was hard to escape the sense of the absurd. A modern 21st-century democracy reliving a medieval fantasy. It was like the royalty as scripted by Disney. Hard to take seriously. Maybe it would have made more sense in black and white.

At least Camilla looked as if she was enjoying herself. She smiled and struggled not to burst out into giggles as she was asked to hold a sceptre. She clearly thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Meanwhile the king carried on suffering in this piece of dadaist performance theatre. After more interminable faffing, the king and queen nipped round the back of the altar. Presumably Camilla needed a cigarette and a quick laugh to release the tension. Most of the rest of us were by now bored. Couldn’t wait for the thing to be over. Enough was enough.

Eventually they reappeared and headed for the exit while the audience sang God save the King. Charles stopped to thank the ministers from other faiths for being ignored throughout the service. Then into the golden carriage. Princess Anne, looking like Napoleon, leapt on to a horse. “She’s now the Gold Stick in Waiting,” Balding said excitedly. Only in Britain.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[muffindaddystyles]

18, 19, and 40 please?🥺 maybe some smut if possible💕

19. “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.”

18. “Squeeze my hand if you could hear me baby.”

40. “I love you, pet. So much of it, come back, please??”

A/N: Girliessss, theysss and themsss. Sorry for being inactive :(( Missed you all so much!! Here's a blurb from mafia!h x soft subby.

Y/N had never been this bratty. She had her occasional time-outs where Harry refused to touch her for days till she broke through her ice and begged him with a drool-y sweet mouth and honeyed puppy eyes.

She knows the drill and loves the adrenaline that seeps to her toes when Harry glowers at her across the room with bolting dark intensity -- his hook of thumb in a demand to have her in his lap is enough to excite her, the punishments makes her insides shrill and makes her fall in love with her daddy more and the best part of all of it's that she wants to cherish again and again’s how adorably caring he’s once fucking her raw.

At the moment though. She isn’t being a brat on purpose. They came for a dinner (with one of the Harry's business people) and it’s all business talk, rich dicks everywhere, hush hush voices that Y/N despises and the piqued ogle of the wife on her that makes her squirmy in her seat.

She zones out into her own lil bubble for a second, imagining herself back in their cosy home comfy in Harry’s humungous overly worn hoodie, snuggling him and smooching him, pecking all those softish spots where he has runs his fingers through the night and she wants to have a delicious pizza all to herself because the food here’s the amount of worm and leaf of spinach on a worm.

She didn’t even realise that she was slipping into her subby state until she was getting all fussy about her surrounds and plucked her lipstick out smudging the crimson tip against a tissue and slides it atop Harry’s thigh from under the table,

Daddy, home?

His flicker of gaze alters from the little needy note towards his girl who’s being choosy in eating her veggies and rolling them around in boredom.

Her head perks up cutesly at the feeling of his attention on her and he suckles his wine layered lip upon the sight of her doe-blown out pupils and glossy eyes indicating him like a train's horn that she’s submerging into her submissiveness at dangerous rate when she goes all squeamish and pink cheeks at the mere touch of his knuckles against her elbow.

“Daddy, please.” She whispers into his ear impatiently squeezing his knee. About to write another note to him to stay persistent but her lipstick breaks and she flinches when it rolls under the lady’s shoe leaving a bright stain on floor.

“Behave.” Was all he muttered gruffly before throwing a nonchalant dismissive glance her way and that was the last straw for her.

It’s been hours!! All she wanted was to get home and cuddle! Is that too much too ask!?

That’s why she acted like a grump and didn’t even bid them goodbyes, waited at the lobby for him eagerly and couldn’t help but to sway with her hands clasped back and grin at the greedy thought that once he steps outside she will leap on him like an affection starved kitten.

Her wish remains a wish nevertheless when Harry passes by her with a stoic face and snaps his fingers at her, the single gesture’s enough to bead tension on her forehead.

“In the car. Right now.” He glares her sternly plucking his black leather glove to reveal his jewelled pretty hand as he reaches for the handle of the backseat door.

Y/N has decided that today she’s gonna hold her grounds and be as naughty as she possibly could to get her kisses of the day.

Sheepishly she slips inside and gives him a toothy smile whilst trying to scramble up towards to reach within the sweet distance for his lips.

The trinkets of her shiny dress makes a noise as Harry splays his calloused palm up her silken thigh, glides it all the way up her hip and keeps his grip on her to stop her from moving.

“What?” She pouts knocking her nose against his's in attempt to plant her lips atop his’s, all grabby hands for him, “You’re not havin’ any of me kisses.” He tuts, eyes dark and murky.

“But why!!?” She whines trying to cup his cheeks and just squish them awful good but he gives her a pointed look and doubles back, away from her.

“You know why, little one.” At that she gives him a nasty narrow squint of her peepers and mutters grouchily, “I hate you.”

“What did ye' just say?” He pushes her closer with one tug that elicits tiny gasp from her, his lip thin in annoyance, “I said I hate you!” She huffs crossing her arms and it makes her breast appear more plump.

In all reality, she’s too stubborn to tell him that she’s feeling terribly needy.

“Say tha’ again, I dare you.” Harry demands with tinge of surprise in his growl and she hisses in frustration adjusting the loose heavy shoulder of her dress, “I said, I hate you and this dress, ‘s so itchy. just w’na go home —-,” Her blabbing fades into a squeaky gasp upon the sharp sting of Harry’s hand against her bottom.

“What happened Sugar? Did cat caught ye’ tongue?” He grits wrapping his warm hand around her throat wanting to choke the battiness out of her, but rather it turns her into a melty puddle of a softie.

“Over my lap.” He says firmly.

“No.”

He doesn’t give her time and positions her himself horizontally on his thighs, elbows pressed into seat and raises her bum with the support of his knee, pinching her cheek teasingly to warn her.

He tries not to coo as she looks ethereal in the glittery dress that's now bunched in Harry’s fist atop her spine to expose her itty bittys and she mewls prettily when Harry spanks her asscheek watching it jiggle then does it again and again, on her last count she’s dripping down her thighs stickily.

“What a filthy little brat,” He groans adam apple bobbing from the vigour of heat spreading in his body as he inspects her wet holes with middle finger making her squirmy and whiny from his feathery touches, “Proper soaked just from gettin' spanked.” He traces the lace delicates of her panties and presses his thumb against her bundle of nerves to feel the throb from his touch.

He pulls her back up and squishes her cheeks to pucker her rosy lips, pecks it heartily, “Knows why you’re gettin’ punished baby?” His tone gentler now. Realising that she shouldn’t slip too deep before they reach home.

She snuggles into the crook of his neck and hums, guiding his hand to her sore bum to make him rub the burn he left on her ass.

“Uhmm. ‘cos didn’t behave nice, acted bad ...” Her voice slurry from desire and yearn. If it wouldn’t be for his grasp on her waist she’d have gotten off on his meaty thigh long gone, “And?” He arches his brow sceptically drawing soothing circles on her flesh.

“And that I said, I hate daddy ‘n the dress he gifted me ....” His heart thumps a bit from the statement but the rational part in him assures him that she was just bumbled about him being too distant from her.

“And what do bad girls get?”

“Punished.” She mumbles into his throat and he nods, kisses her hair and cups the nape of her neck to give it a tender squeeze.

How much she acts like a spoiled brat sometimes; he still always makes sure she’s in her comfort zone and knows why she’s getting treated that way.

“I love you, baby sweets. But .... it doesn’t mean you’d not get your punishment.” She was about to protest and throw a tantrum but the car comes to an halt right infront of the large dark doors of mansion.

Tranquil air fills with her giggly shrieks when Harry gets outside and throws her over his shoulder with an ease, his grin wicked as she squeals out “No's" grabbing onto one of the door-frames in the hallway but it’s all vain since he’s way stronger than her little grip.

Once in their room, he’s flipping her into heaps of pillows and catches her calf when she tries to crawl away in hurry.

Her eyes widen and she looks down with a pout upon hearing the rip of her dress, “Liked it.” She mummers sadly.

“Thought it was too itchy,” Harry shrugs pushing her up towards the bedhead and ducks down to speck soft kisses against her collarbones, mouth foaming at the sight of her tits spilling out of her lingerie.

“No! Was just —.. fuck ...” She keens out a moan bucking her core to grind against his thigh when he nooks his knuckle between her sloppy pussy lips and twists her panties pushing them up scruffily into her mound feeling the flutter of her clitoris, the sheer fabric of it giving the right amount of friction to get her to an orgasm.

Her wet gasps and moans fogs into Harry’s mouth as he kisses her with unyielding roughness, hot bubbles popping in her belly ready to spread the nice feeling inside her, holding her down when he knows what he’s gonna do next will turn her into batshit crazy.

He pulls back. Both. His hand and his mouth away from her.

She blinks, with a lazy smile first then the realization dawns upon her and she’s grappling for his sides but he takes her wrists and pins them down.

“Daddy no!” She growls a whine and he just sits on his heels and admires the mess he created out of her, flustered and sheened in sweat, all soft and pudging to litter her skin with marks and bites, his cock warming up in his pants, “Please daddy I want you.” The whites of her eyes enviable and glassy from the frustrated tears that are collecting at her waterline.

Though, Harry stays adamant because those innocent coy eyes are her best weapon and ties her wrists to the bedpost without saying a word to her.

“You brought this on y'self, baby.” He tugs the bound to make sure it’s not too tight and moves back to get rid of his pants, his prick bloated and throbbing from ridges, slaps against his lower belly it’s head coated with precum.

“Now you’re g'na watch me jerk myself off and cover ye' pretty tummy with my cum, might lick it off from you.” She shivers at his words. Toes curling as she silently pleads with a parted mouth and barely open eyelids.

His nostrils flares, howling groan slipping through his lips as he spits in his palm and wraps it around his fat girth slicking his fist up and all the way down to give some relief to his balls.

He dips down and sucks onto her lower lip, “Knows your safe word right?” He asks shoulders jolting when he slops the bulbous crown of his prick against her clit in slow circles.

“Yes, yellow.” She breathes out delicately hoping he slips into her soon but Harry has other plans as he squeezes himself more, swiping the dollops of white thickness from the crown of his prick and brings his thumb to stuff her mouth shut with that.

“What a greedy kitten.” He tuts in mock when she eagerly swirls her tongue around his thumb creating soft sucking noises, she gags around his digit, eyeballs rolling to her skull when Harry slides her damp panties away and strokes his cock against her drippy hole.

“Hmm. Feels good.” He husks pushing into her, but not stuffing her full and that makes her whimper. She glides her feet around his spine to push him into her and her squishy sloppy walls tries to swallow him whole.

Everything just feels too hot and overwhelming. Him fondling his shaft from where he isn’t soaked into her warmth and her tiny whines and whimpers as he teases and edges her.

“Daddy ‘m sorry!” She squeaks out breathlessly clamping down onto him, “I bet you’re.” He moans out, that one sweaty curl dangling and tickling her forehead.

“That’s the most prettiest sound I’ve heard.” At his praise she just turns into a puddle and wiggles for more.

“You’re g'na make me cum.” He kisses his teeth and she digs her feet into his back not knowing if she’s allowed to come too and not having a voice to ask for his permission.

She gulps. Eyelids fluttering. Her cheeks blushy and peachy, listening to his deep moans that whirls within the pit of his chest as he fills her pussy with warm ribbons of cum that sticks to her already soppy walls and then pulls out to empty himself on her tummy as he promised.

Moments later the room echoes with her treacly yearning whimpers and blubbers of Harry’s name as he licks her juices off and the his own cum that oozes out of her whenever he pushes his middle finger inside her cunt.

..

“No!” That’s why they’ve discussed it before hand, her safe word. Harry knows his baby girl and that she gives up too early, gets too overwhelmed before she could actually enjoy the good part all of it although she has a potential to be more bearing than that.

They’ve lost the count of her orgasms.

The overestimation thingy.

Harry thinks it could be the best punishment for her.

She cramps her thighs around his wrist to make him stop but he spreads them wider apart, “You could gimme another one princess, knows y’could.” He curls his fingers to caress that spongey button inside her that makes her writhe like a leaf and it definitely did.

“Shit.” Eventually she gives into him basking in the pleasure of it -- sinking down on his fingers and grinds her clit against his knuckles, her cum from her previous orgasms glistening on his skin.

“Fuck already squirting.” She didn’t realize that, too floaty in her subspace and the ecstasy until she feels his fingers rubbing inside her again.

“Daddy no, no, no ... too sensitive!” She cries out cramming her legs around his waist and pushes his chest away with her knees but Harry keeps pummelling them deeper, scissoring them and adding two more, her thighs shakes terribly a burn spreads in her limbs as the sensational craving envelopes her once again.

“Yes, yes, yes. Don’t stop, please!” She shouts out whimperishly making Harry smile and he smooches a kiss to her forehead, pressing his chest flushed to hers and cradles her jaw to make her look at him, “Cum fo’ me. You’re me good fuckin' girl – g'na come right?” She bobs her head quickly fresh tears gliding down her cheeks and Harry wipes them away immediately.

She’s flying high like a kite. Wanting him all. His hands. His touch. His cock. His cum anything she could get out of him.

His love. His attention. His constant assurances and praises, affection, tenderness and his kisses and loads ‘n loads of tiny kisses She’s always needy for that.

“’M your good girl!” She sobs out in high pitch grappling onto restraints and Harry feels this dire urge to protect his little one at all costs, “Yes you’re.” He coos brushing her hair away from her eyes and let her hide her face into his neck as she turns stiff like an arrow and creampies around his fingers, lips smushed against his cheek.

“Take a breath, honey. Yes princess just like that.” He massages her shoulder and pecks it to calm her down upon feeling her heartbeat go wild after she comes.

She shakes in his arms whilst Harry showers her in kisses lining himself against her entrance and sheathes into her in a slick, their moans melting as he buries himself deep till her belly and cum spurts out from her cunt with his each hard thrust and it drips down her bum and onto already splotched sheets.

White dots wafts past her eyelids, arms shaking and lip wobbling as she feels it hit like a train. Getting pooled into utter bliss of many orgasms, feeling a rupturing dose of euphoria cocooning her.

She feels like she’s on paradise and somebody’s calling her through the white noise but she’s unable to respond all she could do’s blabber nonsense while trying to stop squirming.

Then she gets familiar to that gentle voice, the cosiness of that hand holding onto her free ones now and the softness of those lips against her forehead.

“Squeeze my hand if you could hear me baby.” He gets anxious a little bit when she stays droopy and unresponsive like a sunflower at nights.

A huge grin adorns his after climax blissed out features when she obeys him and gives a lil squish to his palm, “There y’go baby sugar. Y'alright honey?” He kisses the tip of her nose when she just blinks up at him weepily.

“Daddy.” Her voice scratchy and awfully feeble from all of the screaming and moaning.

“No daddy. ‘S just Harry, I love you pet. So much of it come back to me, please?” He almost pleads corking his mind to think what would bring her back from her fragile state since she has never slipped past from him this deep ever.

She whines at the hollowness she feels in her tummy when he pulls out catefully from her with a squelching noise and hisses even when the sheets rustles against her folds, “So sensitive.” Harry murmurs trailing honeyed kisses into the softest flesh of her thighs.

“Yes daddy, but want you!” Harry’s brows shoots up into shock and he slips his forearm under her to hug her tight, “’M right her bubba.” She cuddles into him and yawns fumbling with his sides listening to his pacific breathing.

“Guess we gotta give this little one a sleepy bath.” He mutters into her hair, nails scratching soothingly up her neck and twirling her downsy baby curls.

“I love you.” She rasps out rubbing the sleepiness in her eyes with the back of her hand, “I love you too -- would you like if I lit up some candles in the bathroom? Y’favourite ones?” He thinks it might help her get out of her subby state.

“No. Just you.” She pouts battling the sleepiness away and clings to him when he walks them to bathroom and sits them into the cold tub, he wrapped her around him in a way she doesn’t come in contact with the coldness of it as they wait for it fill with bubbling water (Y/N was too sensitive and clingy that he knew if he’d away parted away she’d have cried endlessly.)

No words were exchanged as she almost slept on his chest and drooled all over him.

“Cutie.” Harry giggles softly pecking her parted snoring lips and cleans himself and her gently.

Gets his most worn out clothes, the one that could tell another person in a beat that she belongs to him from the smell alone.

She slings her thigh around his waist and smashes her face under his chin, canoodling into him with a little tired purr.

He was petting her head and running his hand over her back that when she mumbled into her sleep, rubbing her cheek up and down his chest, Harry stopped and ducked down to kiss her forehead feeling love bursting through his insides.

“I love you, Harry.” Was what she mumbled. He's just too much in love with his soft little button.

[biderboy]

ron showed his love differently than most people

he wasn’t good with words and he sometimes had a hard time showing affection

but he loved, god did he love

he grew up with 6 siblings, each their own person, he had to learn to love differently

bill loved in an old way, he wrote them letters and gave them old books. he sat down and did their hair, helped with homework. he taught him to ride a broom and how to treat people with respect. he constantly checked up on his siblings and made sure they were okay.

charlie loved loudly. he sent postcards and magical trinkets. he came barreling into the burrow and scooped them into his arms. he ruffled their hair and shouted how proud he was of them. he left traces of magic and love everywhere he stepped. he was their biggest fan.

percy loved quietly. he stood back and observed, made sure everyting was okay. kept them out of trouble, followed the rules so he could make their punishments less severe. cleaned up after them, ordered food for the younger ones, taught himself how to be responsible so he could be there for them.

the twins loved playfully. the played pranks and made fun. they stole their books and hid their wands. they ridiculed their taste in fashion and hexed their favorite toys into dancing. the laughed loudly at all jokes, the paid close attention to whoever was speaking. they tuned in to their likes and dislikes and made sure nobody disrespected them.

ginny loved protectively. she hugged and held. she stood infront of and yelled. she learned to be mean so that nobody would try to hurt them. she supported and encouraged anything and everything. she knew how to push limits and take a step back. she made sure they were all comfortable.

and ron? well ron just loved.

he was always a bit insecure. thinking maybe h wasn’t doing it right. everyone made it seem so easy, and ron didn’t want to mess up.

but ron loved, so hard.

ron picked up a pair of earrings he thought bill would like and left him in his older brothers room

ron took the time to learn all about the different types of dragons and how to care for them so he could keep a conversation with charlie about something that made his brothers eyes light up

ron tried to stay out of trouble since he knew percy was always there to get him out of it, but it put more stress on his brother

ron gladly let the twins play new pranks on him and mess up his clothes and hex his hair blue because they laughs it got out of everyone, especially the two who tended to go off on their own, it made them feel closer

ron played quidditch at ungodly hours with ginny because he knew how much the sport meant to her, and that was worth getting only 2 hours of sleep and having bruises for the next week

ron stood by his brothers side when he came out as bisexual, smiling gand hugging him, saying he was so proud

ron stayed up late with the twins, letting them share out their fears and insecurities, calming them with words of “youre still my brothers, that’s enough”

ron cried when charlie decided to leave home but helped his brother pack and let him excitedly talk about how happy he was going to be, and just smiled and sid “you better write”

ron understood why percy chose the ministry and was not mad nor angry, he knew his brother was just trying to save them, to fight for what he believed would help them all get out, he stood up for him and said he was brave

he cheered for ginny when she admitted to being in love with his best friend, he was not jealous or upset, he pulled them both into a hug and smiled because “you deserve love”

ron left their favorite candy on the kitchen table

ron purposely let them pick their favorite movies

ron went out of his way to find books and plants and trinkets of all sorts that he thought they would enjoy

ron saw stars and art and heard music and seen sunrises and thought of them

ron made hot chocolate, each sibling liking their different, every christmas morning

ron hated cleaning but would organize the mess incase one of his siblings got frustrated from it

ron liked looking at the snow rather than playing in it but never once failed to join his family outside

ron wrote letters to his brothers when they were away and attached small drawings and enchantments that reminded him of them

ron got overwhelmed easily and hated noise and movement but he still would prefer to be in his brothers company tha anyone else’s

ron was terrible at cooking but helped ginny bake for harry’s birthday and even took the blame when things turned out horrid

ron wasn’t sure if he was loving correctly, he didn’t hug or shout, he didn’t comfort that well and he was bad at a lot of things

but ron loved. and that, wether he knew it or not, was the best thing he could do.

[stuckwith-harry]

cried out to you alone

“It becomes a part of who you are”, Harry says, some sort of clarity coming to him. “Death, I mean. Grief. It doesn’t have to swallow you whole, but there is a little bit of it in every part of you.”

Impossible, is the only thing Harry can stand to think. That there is still sunlight in the world after everything.

Still, it pours out over the Burrow’s kitchen table in bright, luminous yellow, warming the veined wood. Harry and the Weasleys watch it creep over the tabletop, sitting elbow-to-elbow. Molly and Arthur are touching shoulders and brushing through hair as they pass around steaming mugs of tea, as they pour milk and stir in spoonfuls of sugar, the bags under their eyes swollen and purple like figs.

When Harry tries to open his mouth, to offer help, Molly quickly shakes her head at him; pleading. Like she wouldn’t know what else to do with herself.

So Harry stays, cramped between George and Ginny, and lets her place her palm on his back as she places his tea in front of him. Through the open window, a sweet-smelling breeze comes pouring in, the smell of warm soil and flowers and summer rapidly approaching, which seems impossible, too.

Tomorrow morning, they’re going to get out of bed and make breakfast. They’re going to feed the chicken in the yard, do the dishes and read the newspaper. Still, the sun is going to come up.

For a moment, he catches Ron’s gaze; Ron, whose face is oddly contorted and whose eyes are glassy and bright red. Harry can’t bear the sight of it: he stares at the old mug in his hands, examining the faded red dots, hand-painted. Anything that soothes.

Poppies, he realises. On the inside, near a chip at the rim, he can make out the small letters spelling out Ottery St. Catchpole, and below that, half-drowning in sweet tea: Flea Market, 1988.

A memory, then. One he wasn’t a part of, but one he can envision, anyway, the bright red summer day, the bustling and shuffling of the little village, the shrieking of children, strawberry ice cream rapidly melting and dripping on bare knees; a younger, happier Ron –

The scraping of a chair yanks him back, as Ginny abruptly gets to her feet and walks out without a word. No one tries to stop her, and the small, pathetic sound of her bedroom door closing from atop the stairs sounds down to them as though she slammed it.

After that, only silence. No pots stir in the kitchen sink, no footsteps thunder from several floors above, and no chatter, no yelling, no laughter holds the walls of the house together. No explosions sound from the twins’ room.

Death is an awfully quiet affair.

One by one, as the stripes on the tabletop grow long and orange, the Weasleys crawl into their hiding places. Harry knows he’s intruding, so he wanders outside, following the soft clucking of the chicken pecking away at the dirt behind their wooden fence, the only things alive and making a sound.

The solitude is a relief: he has never wished to flee the walls of the Burrow so desperately, only stayed long enough to change out of the black funeral robes and into an old Quidditch jumper. Then he pushed Ron’s bedroom door open far enough to slip out and disappear, and mercifully, Ron didn’t try to stop him, either.

The jumper is Ron’s, technically. It feels like being held, Gryffindor red and worn and entirely too large for Harry. Somehow that only makes him feel worse.

The Weasleys did not hesitate to take him home with them after the battle, because that was their way. They put up the old camp bed in Ron’s violently orange bedroom like they always had, and Ron silently handed him a pile of hand-me-downs so Harry would have something to wear other than the clothes that still reeked of the tent, of sweat and of blood.

Harry props his elbows up on the weathered fence and buries his face in the soft sleeves, breathing deeply. For a while, he simply listens as the hens, who do not know or care about anything, cluck away happily, as the urge to slip under the invisibility cloak, to disappear and never make a sound again, keeps on rushing over him.

“Hi.”

His heart jumps painfully into his throat at the quiet greeting and the sound of footsteps on dry grass that preceded it, and when he turns around to face it, he’s looking at Ginny. She’s changed out of her black dress robes, too, back into worn-out denim dungarees and a striped t-shirt. Scarlet and yellow. Her hair has come out of the braid from earlier and falls wildly to her collarbones again, no longer to her belly button, like it used to.

“I couldn’t stand the silence anymore”, she says, voice oddly throaty.

Harry wants to say, you don’t have to explain, but before he can, she pushes out: “And then I was in my room and it was just as fucking quiet, and I just – I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

She looks older, Harry thinks wildly. He hasn’t let himself look at her, not really, doesn’t even know why, just that he’s been avoiding her most of all. Ever since May 2nd, the quiet between them has stretched and stretched over miles and oceans and continents of wasteland. Harry knows it’s his fault, that he should say something, but he has no words, no words at all.

The first morning after the battle, when he came stumbling into the common room and found her there, they just held each other, and he had no words then, either. There was sunlight there, too, he remembers suddenly, poking through the shattered windows and lighting up every particle of dust floating around the empty room.

“Can we go somewhere else?”, she asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Anywhere else?”

Harry nods, mouth dry. For a moment, her eyes seem to linger on him, but then she turns away without another word, and he follows her lead without question or objection. They don’t speak again until they reach the old broomshed, and Ginny suddenly turns to look at him again, face unreadable.

“Any chance you wanna go for a fly?”

“Wh-What?”

She shrugs. “Do you?”

It’s a strange time capsule, the shed. Ginny pushes the wooden door open and sends flurries of dust into the air, catching sunlight; Harry, who is standing behind her, catches a glimpse of Arthur’s old Muggle trinkets and the old brooms lined up against the wall. Ron and Ginny’s are closest to the door; the twins’ brooms are up on a shelf opposite the square window.

For a moment, Ginny is perfectly still, and Harry knows she is looking at them, too. Then she reaches for her broom and silently pushes past him. Harry grabs Ron’s and closes the door of the shed behind him, and together they wander away from the Burrow, over the hills that surround it, where wild poppies are peeking through the unkempt grass and weeds.

Harry thinks he knows where she’s going: their makeshift Quidditch pitch hidden between gnarly old trees from summers long lost, where they used to chuck apples and tennis balls at each other, during all those afternoons spent playing Quidditch two against two.

Tall, sweet-smelling yarrow brushes along their bare shins as they walk, and pink clover, the soft heads bending back to the earth under the weight of bumblebees passing by, thick dandelion leaves spread all across the ground amidst the weeds; and everywhere poppies, peeking through the tall grass, the paper-thin petals fluttering in the breeze.

Tucked behind another hill, Harry remembers, a few minutes on foot further north, is the lake where they whiled away happier summer afternoons than this. The image comes to his mind in bright, sunny colours, Ginny’s wide, toothy grin as she sneaks up on Ron, the thundering splash and Hermione’s piercing shriek, and Ron, emerging, spluttering and yelling, his sopping hair plastered to his face.

But that was centuries ago, and their full-bellied laughter seems miles and countries away already. Here, only silence. Harry wants to ask, are you okay?, or say, it’s going to be alright, but what good would it do?

The poppies are early: they’re not supposed to bloom for another month. There’s no end to them, no matter how far they walk, a sea of red stretching out all over the soft hills. Harry can’t tear his eyes away until the first beech trees they used to climb, black pines and yews throw cool shadows over their heads.

Strange, that it looks the same. The leaves up above their heads rustle softly as they mount their brooms, and Ginny shoots into the air, a quiet cannon. For the better part of an hour, they zoom in circles through the rapidly cooling air, chucking an old Quaffle back and forth at each other. Ginny’s throws are hard and unrelenting: they’re not keeping score, but she’s playing like it’s the last game of the season, like the House Cup depends on it, so Harry lets her exhaust herself. By the time they sink back to the ground, the sky over the meadow is dotted in shades of pink and red.

Ginny hits the ground with such force her knees buckle under the impact and hit the dry grass. Harry gasps, but she is already getting up again, brushing off the dirt without comment.

They find a spot at the outer edge of the pitch and slump into the tall grass with their backs leaning against an oak tree, where they can see the sunset falling on the soft hills and the Burrow in the distance, bright red like poppies. Ginny’s hands are uselessly holding her ribs, her warm eyes staring off into nothing.

“Feel any better?”, Harry asks after a while.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

She shifts next to him, tucking her scraped knees to her chest. They look like she’s spent all summer climbing trees and rolling down the grassy hills around the Burrow and crashing her broomstick into her brothers in a spectacular grab for the Quaffle.

“At least I feel a little less like I was buried with him”, she mutters.

I’m sorry, Harry wants to say, but that seems useless, too.

“I wanted to leave, too”, he says finally. “It was so quiet in there.”

“I hate it”, Ginny says softly. “It doesn’t feel anything like home when it’s like this.”

“I’m sorry”, he says despite himself, for what feels like the thousandth time since everything. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Ginny's brows furrow slightly, as if to say, yes, you should. “If you weren’t, I’d still be shut up in my room right now. Going mad, probably.”

After a short pause, she adds: “I wouldn’t know who to talk to.”

It strikes Harry like lightning: she was looking for him.

She looks over at him as though searching for something. Her brown eyes glow golden in the warm light, like honey, her whole face painted in reds and oranges and pinks.

“How do you do it?”, she asks finally, voice quiet, but steady, as the soft breeze continues to rush through the trees. “How do you lose everyone you’ve lost – and go on living? How do you live with the dead?”

Harry looks at her, the way she sits cross-legged and hunched over in the grass next to him, arms hugged to herself, and it sinks in, what she’s searching for, what she’s asking of him.

“It’s not the same”, he says softly.

She scoffs quietly. “How is that not the same?”

Harry looks around their hiding place. Maybe it’s the creaking of old branches around them, almost a murmur, the smell of the trees, that brings them back: his parents in the Forbidden Forest, walking towards him, Sirius’ bright grin, Dumbledore at King’s Cross Station.

The thought of them cuts through him, every beat of his heart sharp and stinging as they remain dead and he does not.

“Your speech”, he says finally, and watches her jaw clench. “I couldn’t have said anything like that about my parents – or Sirius …”

“I can’t believe I wrote him a fucking eulogy”, Ginny mutters, staring at the weeds to her feet, the patches of moss creeping across the earth under the wild, entangled grass. “It makes it feel so fucking final.”

“You did really well”, Harry says. “It was beautiful.”

She merely shrugs, and he doesn’t blame her.

“I’m glad I got to say something, I think”, she says after another stretch of silence. “But, Merlin, he was walking and talking and making jokes just a week ago, and now he’s six feet underground and I’ve written a double-sided page on how sorely he’ll be missed.”

She wipes her nose on the back of her sleeve.

“Up until today, I really thought he might jump up and laugh it off and make fun of us for falling for it.”

You made it feel like that today, he wants to say, but doesn’t.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny.”

She read it out with a completely steady voice, both fists clutching the slip of paper in her hand. She did not bother to find a silver lining this time, or to look for meaning at all; but every word seemed to bring Fred back to life a little, even earning a few teary chuckles from the other Weasleys. Every anecdote and every prank she recounted was a testament to the fact that Fred Weasley had been alive, that he had mattered, that he had left an impact on her, on all of them.

“You know my Mum had brothers”, Ginny says suddenly, looking over at Harry’s hands. “Fabian and Gideon Prewett.”

She points, and Harry realises what she’s really looking at: Fabian Prewett’s battered old watch on his arm.

“They died in the first war. Bill, Charlie and Percy say they remember them a little, but the rest of us just grew up hearing stories.”

She picks at the shallow wound on her knee, where droplets of bright red blood have pushed to the surface through the cracks in her freckled skin. “It’s why Fred and George are named after them. A little bit, anyway – you know, Fred and George … Fabian and Gideon … Mum was pregnant when they died.”

Harry swallows. “I didn’t know.”

Ginny smiles sadly. “I liked the idea that they got to live on in the twins a little. I never thought to ask Fred and George how they felt about it, actually. I can’t imagine … how Mum feels.”

Harry watches her wrap her arms around her legs, watches the strawberry blond hairs on her shins stand on end as the air cools around them. She looks tired, but her eyes are dry.

“I never made that connection”, he says softly.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you”, she says. “It seemed important.”

Even over the rustling of the trees, the chirping and creaking all around them, he can hear her clearly, her voice steady, unwavering.

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes.”

She looks around at him. “Do you not miss your parents?”

“I don’t know how”, Harry mutters. “Your speech … it was full of memories.”

She doesn’t respond, understanding silently. Then: “What about Sirius?”

Harry shrugs. “He never really got to be my godfather, did he? Not the way he was supposed to, anyway … there wasn’t time. And I don’t remember when my parents were alive – I’ve never known anything else.”

He looks at her, the way she’s quietly watching. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you were hoping to hear.”

Ginny dismisses it with a half-hearted gesture, lost in thoughts somewhere else.

“Do you think grieving someone is the same thing as missing them, then?”

“No … do you?”

She seems to consider it for a moment, then shakes her head.

“I just – I just want to talk to him and tell him what’s going on, and I think about how long it’s been since I’ve talked to him and how much I wish he were here and how I’m not gonna get to talk to him –”

She pauses mid-sentence, as though looking for words, and doesn’t find any.

“And then I think about the fact that he’s dead. That his life is over. And that I helped bury him today. And they’re both – awful, but it’s different, I guess.”

Harry nods, more to himself than to Ginny this time.

“And now, I just – I need to know what to do. So it doesn’t swallow me whole.”

Harry is still watching them walk towards him before his inner eye, his parents in the Forbidden Forest, his mother’s hungry face.

“I forget, sometimes”, he says. “For a moment, I think I forget they’re gone. Or I’m – I don’t know, distracted, and I’m not thinking about it – it slips away, and then it hits me again.”

Ginny’s teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I … honestly can’t fathom it right now.”

Harry looks over at her, the way she sits next to him, curled into herself, her hands still uselessly holding her ribs. Like it is physically hurting her.

“I dunno. Maybe forgetting is the wrong word. But when it happens, it always feels like it’s happening to someone else, like I am someone else.”

Ginny watches him intently as he stumbles to the end of his sentence: it feels pathetic already, having said it out loud like that.

“Like you are who you would’ve been if they hadn’t died?”, she asks, in that quietly remarkable way of hers, where she doesn’t treat him like something delicate, but she doesn’t ask for more than he can give, either.

“Yeah, I reckon. But I don’t recognise him at all.”

Ginny hums in understanding. She leans back against the bark of the tree and pulls her knees to herself again. “You would’ve been happier, anyway.”

Harry turns away at that, suddenly not trusting himself to speak.

“I know it doesn’t make sense or anything –”

“No, it does, Harry.”

“I mean, I know they couldn’t have lived. Everything would have to be different. We probably wouldn’t be here.”

Ginny sits in silence for a while.

“Do you ever wonder?”, she asks finally. “What you would’ve been like?”

“I guess … more like them. In ways I can recognise, anyway.”

He gestures helplessly at nothing, and Ginny takes that as a sign to push no further.

“I don’t recognise Ginny a week ago, either”, he hears her say, and the muffled sound of her voice tells him she’s wiping her nose on her sleeve again. “Every time something terrible happened, I guess I didn’t. It’s like remembering an old friend. One whose address you lost or something.”

“It becomes a part of who you are”, Harry says, some sort of clarity coming to him. “Death, I mean. Grief. It doesn’t have to swallow you whole, but there is a little bit of it in every part of you.”

“Cheery”, Ginny says in a hollow voice.

“It gets less all-consuming”, he says softly.

“Good”, she mutters. “Right now it’s pretty fucking all-consuming. It’s there when I wake up in the morning, and it’s – in my tea, and on all my clothes, and it’s in everyone I talk to and everything I say.”

Harry stares at the sky overhead, the red rapidly paling. Still, there is that whispering in the treetops, the feeling of being transported back into the Forbidden Forest. Still, his parents, reaching out for him.

“I’m sorry”, he says truthfully. “That’s all I’ve got.”

Ginny shakes her head. “It’s all I needed.”

He watches her tug at a poppy near her feet, struck by how long he’s managed to stay away from her, when her company is so comforting. The resolution comes to him all on its own, that he’s going to tell her everything. The Forbidden Forest. King’s Cross Station.

“Do you want to head back yet?”

Ginny looks at him, and she seems calmer somehow. For the first time since they got here, she doesn’t seem to be searching for anything – just looking.

“In a little while”, she says.

Harry looks back at her, really looks at her, and for a long time, neither of them speak, having arrived at some quiet understanding. Still, there’s a murmur in the trees around them, but they pay it no mind, and they don’t turn to look.

[ofdogsandchocolate]

‘Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

-He promised her they were forever. And they were, Till they weren't.-

Young, dumb, and in love. That's what Percy and Annabeth were. They were fourteen when they got together. Previously best friends since birth, but they both had formed a crush on each other. She asked him to the Halloween dance, and they both slowly started falling after that. Falling in love, that is. Annabeth had been told that it was scary, falling. That it's something you'll regret, that you'll come out empty handed. That you won't be able to get back up if you do. But, she couldn't help it. One look into his sea green eyes, and she was gone. Sometimes, though, she did get scared. Scared that he would leave her for someone else, like his father left her mother. Scared that he would change into a person she couldn't love, or vice-versa. But, Percy would just hold her close, and promise her that he wouldn't leave her. That they would be forever. She wanted to believe him, so she did. They battled the struggles of high school together, as well as got accepted to the same college. A college both of them dreamed of attending. Annabeth was waiting for some higher force to come down, and tell her all this had been a simulation. She was leading a life the rom-com girls wished they had. She was 18, and was still in love with her one and only. High school couldn't separate them, and so far college hadn't, so what couldn't they overcome together? They were forever, they always would be. Things were good. Really, really, great.        

                                                            o.0.o

College was hard, money was tight, and people were mean, but Percy and Annabeth got through it.

Four years of college was enough for them, and they already had decently paying jobs, so they were all on their own. No school, or superiors to guide them. They were finally full fledged adults.

Annabeth thinks Percy must have not gotten the que, because he sure acted childish sometimes.

The two of them had been trying to bake cookies, but neither of them were meant for the kitchen. Flour was all over the place, the counter was stained faintly blue in one spot, and the apartment smelt of...burnt-ness.

As the blonde Woman took her oven mitted hand and retrieved the tray from the hot oven, Percy coughed.

"God, woman! You burnt out cookies!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and slams the hot tray onto the stove top, the cookies that were supposed to be blue, a greenish brown color. She placed a hand on her hip, and turned to her boyfriend.

"Maybe if you hadn't forgot the baking soda, they would've turned out a little better."

The man mock gasped, "How could you blame this on me! You're the one who added all that salt. It only called for half a teaspoon!" Annabeth violently untied the lady-bug apron that, was much to small for her, and threw it over at the guy.

"You idiot-"

Her sentence was interrupted by flour. Flour that Percy threw at her. Flour that landed right into her mouth.

If you didn't know, flour doesn't taste all that great.

The woman started to cough violently. It was so dry, she couldn't swallow it, but it was sticking to the insider of her mouth aswell.

Annabeth reached around herself, trying to get a handful of flour to throw back at Percy. She finds the back of brown sugar instead, but figures it should do.

She threw a handful of the sugar blindly towards were Percy's voice was coming from.

"Ah!"

The blonde, who's hair actually looked more white than blonde at the moment, groaned as Percy began to laugh. It must have been super funny, watching her struggle. She wiped the flour from her eyes, so that she could see. Percy was standing at the Island, rapidly scooping up more flour into his hands.

Annabeth chuckled darkly.

"Oh, it's on."

Let's just say, the two of them were finding floor everywhere, for months.

                                                       o.0.o

One Saturday Morning, Annabeth and Percy were laying in their bed.

The bed that they shared.

They were both crammed over to one side, Annabeth head in the crook of his armpit, with Percy's hand resting upon it, combing through her golden curls.

It didn't particularly smell like roses, but it was nice.

She didn't know, since she was staring up at the ceiling wordlessly, but Percy was smiling widely at her.

He didn't understand how someone could be so beautiful, inside and out. And, how someone like her could ever love someone like him. He thought about the glittering diamond ring that sat in his underwear drawer. The ring he bought 2 years ago, when he was 22.

He was planning on popping the question soon. But, he was patient. He wanted it to be perfect, for her.

Percy turns back to Annabeth, who was now staring back at him. They smile at each other.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said turning over on her side, to get a better look at him. Percy followed in her movements. "You, of course," he exclaimed booping her nose with his pointer finger.

Annabeth laughed. "Well, I would hope so. You sure your not thinking of anything else? Anybody else?"

Percy knew she was joking, but Percy took it to himself to answer seriously. "No. I'm thinking of...forever."

The two held eye contact as a smile grew onto Annabeths face. "I like the way you think, Mr. Jackson."

Percy smiled. "Yes, me and Ms. O'Leary shall have a wonderful life together."

Annabeth snorted, and shoved her face into the pillows. "Yes! I wish you two the best of luck," she said, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Percy laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I love you."

Annabeth took her face out of the pillows to look at him. "Right back at ya."

                                                        o.0.o

It was a month later, and Percy and Annabeth were ready for a movie marathon.

(They both immediately agreed Harry Potter, for obvious reasons.)

Once they were all situated on the couch, Annabeth scrolling through the TV, Percy spoke.

"We don't have ice cream, do we?"

Annabeth's eyes stayed put on the television. "No. We finished it the other night."

He thought for a moment, before getting up from the couch and slipping on his shoes.

His girlfriend finally looked over too him, her eyebrows raised. "Um...were do you think you're going, mister?"

Percy looked back at her, smiling as he pulled on his coat. "Getting us ice-cream, of course."

He walked back over to Annabeth, who was now propped up on her elbows, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Blackberry rebel?"

"Blackberry rebel."

He gave a chaste kiss to his girlfriends lips, before walking back over to the door to their apartment.

"Don't start it without me!" He called out as he reached for the door nob.

It didn't feel any different from the other times Percy had gone out to fetch something. It felt normal. It was normal.

Right?

Then why did Annabeth feel so anxious all of a sudden? She got chills, but she told herself it was nothing.

Until she couldn't.

"Hey!"

Percy spun his hear around back to Annabeth, who was sitting all the way up. Her heart was racing, but she didn't know why.

Her boyfriend looked at her warily. "What? Is everything ok?"

Annabeth nodded uncertainly. "Um...yeah. Yes, I'm fine, just...be careful. It's dark."

Percy nodded, and reopened the door. Once it was all the way open, he threw his head over his shoulder.

"I love you."

Annabeth tried her best to calm down her heart, and give him a smile.

"I love you too."

The scariest thing, is that it felt like a goodbye.

                                                         o.0.o

An hour and 30 minutes. It should not take him that long to drive to the market down the block and get ice cream.

Annabeth paced around the living room.

Were is he? Is he okay? What if-

No. No, he's fine.

                                                        o.0.o

He wasn't fine.

Hours passed, and he still hadn't show up. Annabeth crossed her fingers, and wished that he would appear. That he would walk in the door, plastic bag with Ice-cream and pretzels, unharmed and happy.

That wasn't the case.

Annabeth was at the point were she was grabbing her keys frantically try to get out of the apartment, and trying to find Percy. Just as she walked toward the door, a rang was heard from the couch.

My phone. It could be Percy.

She sprints across the living room, and searches through the blankets and crevasses of the couch, to find the vibrating device in between the cushions.

East Coast Emergency Center.

A hospital?

Annabeth's mind thought the worst, and she answers shakily.

"H-hello?"

The feminine voice on the other side said, "Hello. I's this Annabeth Chase?"

A scared sob rose in the woman's throat, her chest tightening. "This is her."

The person sighed. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but your partner Percy has been in a car accident."

Annabeth gasped, a hand coming to her mouth. Tears started to form in her eyes, as she said. "What- Um. Is he okay?"

"Sadly, he was gone when the ambulance found him. I am- so, sorry."

Annabeth cried as she began to crouch on the floor. "Oh my- I- I- Ill be there as quickly as I can," her voice wobbled off as she hung up.

She was in shock as she drove to the hospital. Sobbing, but not particularly thinking straight. It felt unreal. 15 minutes prior, she just thought Percy had gotten mugged, but-

He was gone.

Percy was gone and their forever was over.

                                                          o.0.o

                                                seven years later

                                                          o.0.o

Annabeth liked to dive through the suburbs sometimes.

To see the life she could of had, and cry, and laugh, and just think.

She also visited the cemetery from time to time. Not as much as she used to, but a couple times a year.

Her friends had told her she should move on, that it just wasn't meant to be. But they didn't know him like she did. They didn't know how important she was to him.

So, Annabeth still visited him. Put blue flowers on his grave, sometimes talked, sometimes wrote a little note.

She didn't know if he heard, or if he was even there, but it felt nice, just imagining that he did.

Annabeth looked down at the soft gray stone, and the little trinkets and flowers scattered along he bottom. She smiled, as she reached into her pocket to take out the small enveloped note.

She kissed it lightly, before setting it down lightly at the base of the stone. Straightening her back, he took one long breath, her eyes stinging. But this time, with happy tears.

"I love you, Seaweed Brain."

And it finally feels like a proper farewell.

                                                          o.0.o

Hi, Percy.

How are you? I hope you're well. I'm okay, thanks for asking.

I haven't seen you in so long, I don't really know what to say. Which hurts to think, since you were such a large part of my life. Which also hurts to think about, because you aren't that anymore. I don't think of you everyday, and it scares me. You're face isn't always on my mind, and I hate it. I know you would want me to move on, and while I care deeply about your opinion, I deem that stupid. I know its been a long time. Hell, I'm 30. Can you believe that? An actual grown-up.

I might find another person, at one point i time, but I will always love you. Because, well, how can I not? I always hated how easily you made me love you. One of your worse traits, for sure.

Anyways, what I'm trying to do here is a...final goodbye. A way were I can finally try to let you go, or at least partially. I've just held onto you in my stubborn mind, and I think it's time to try and get better.

Because I know it's what you would have wanted.

I never got to say goodbye to you, and I think that's the hardest part for me. That I never got to see you one last time.

So, this is it. This is me, letting you go.

I think it's the best for the both of us. Not necessarily to move on, but to start healing.

We got our forever. Our little forever that only us got to live. Thank you for that.

Goodbye, Percy Jackson. I had a lovely little forever with you.

                                                    o.0.o.0.o.0.o

I seriously have no idea if this is the type of stuff you post on tumblr, but...here I am! Yeah, just a little thing I wrote.                   

(Very much based off of Drivers license, by Olivia Rodrigo. Beautiful song.)

[youralternantpersonality]

The Altar

Seth x reader: The Altar

WARNING: Sad af.

***

August of 1998—Pre-K

“HEY! Leave him alone!” Y/n pushes Leo, another kid in your grade, off the new kid at school.

“Y/n! What have I said about pushing other students?” Ms. Carmichael says, going up to Y/n.

“But he was hitting him! And no one was stopping it!” You yelled, stating facts to the wretched woman. She shakes her head and reaches to grab the new kid on the ground.

“Are you okay Seth?” The teacher helps the kid up. He nods his head and looks at you with a smile. “Well then, Seth, Y/n, Leo, follow me. The principal waits for you.” We follow the she-beast and you wait for your punishment. As you’re sitting outside waiting for Leo to get done with his lame of excuse, you sneak a conversation with the kid named Seth.

“Hey, Seth, right?” he looks at you with wide eyes and nods his head. “You okay? Fat butt in there is mean to everyone and tends to hurt the smaller kids.” He smiled at the name.

“I’m okay. Thank you…”

“Y/n, Y/n Y/L/n. at your service sir.” I said with a smile with a missing tooth. He smiles back.

“Woah, you already lost a tooth?”

“I lost three. See!” Y/n proceeds to show him your mouth and all your missing teeth.

“Woah…I’ve only lost two. And they’re a pain in the” looks around, “butt.” They both laugh at the word butt.

“Wanna be my best friend?” Y/n ask randomly.

“SURE!” he says with excitement.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Clearwater! No talking!” Said the receptionist.

“Sorry.” They said in unison, looking at each other trying to not laugh.

October of 2007—7th grade; Halloween

“Oh, come on Seth! Tell me! Please…I’ll be your best friend!” Seth stops, looks at me with a grin and a side-eye.

“Y/n, we’re already best friends. What!?” he laughs, bumping shoulders with you.

“Okay, yes. But come on. Just tell me!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“…”

“…”

“Vampire.” I look at him with a blank face. Then start laughing.

“Ugh, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” He starts walking away.

“No, sorry. I wasn’t laughing at that. I was laughing at the fact that we were almost going as the same thing dum-dum.” He stops and smiles.

“Really?” he smiles.

“Yes. I was debating as a witch or a vampire. So, since you’re the vampire, I’ll be a witch.” You smile next to him. You were low-key laughing at it, but seeing as it is Seth, and anytime he looks anything but happy always hurts you, you could never laugh at him for certain things. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and you guys walk home to get ready.

“Bet I can beat you to my house.” He says pulling you down and taking off.

“NO FAIR!” you state chasing after him.

Summer of 2010—Before 10th-grade year.

Nothing. No call, no text, not even visitation. I had gone over to the Clearwater’s house yesterday, only to be turned away by Harry.

“Sorry Y/n, Seth still isn’t well.” Sue standing behind him with a sad look on her face.

“Can you at least tell him I stopped by, and to call me? I’m worried about him.” You say with tears in your eyes. Desperate to hear from your best friend and crush. You had developed hard feelings for the small raven head boy. He was everything to you always but was more before 8th-grade year. You didn’t know or understand what was happening, but you knew your feelings for Seth were nothing but genuine strong feelings.

The funny thing was you knew he felt it back. Those times where you two would get lost in each other’s eyes, the times where a kiss was almost shared but rudely interrupted by the arguments of Leah and Sue over trivial things. The slight touches and spark that flew between the two. Not even a blind person could miss the way you two responded to each other. Hell, your moms would secretly plan your wedding to one another. They even created a budget for the both of you for damn sakes!

But at that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that boy you’ve always loved was okay. And if you could get one word from him, everything would be fine. You saw Leah coming to the front door about to head off somewhere. She stops and looks at you with a defeated look on her face.

“Y/n/n. I was just heading out. Let me walk you home.” You knew, since childhood, not to question the girl who was, basically, your older sister. She always protected you and, unknowing to her, you idolized her. Her strong will and strength you gained came from watching Leah. You looked down and nodded your head and followed her. At your porch step, she finally said something that broke you to pieces.

“You and Seth are done. I’m sorry Y/n, but…Seth…he’s not the Seth you know. I’m sorry.” She says, running off somewhere. Your eyes followed her until she became blurry with tears. You started to hyperventilate and didn’t want to be home. So, you dropped your bag and ran. You didn’t know where you just ran in the opposite direction and didn’t stop until you were on the edge of the forest. You recall Harry telling you to never step into the forest after a bunch of people from Forks have gone missing. And abiding by his rules, you don’t. You find a spot near the tree line and let it out. You stay there for a while and let all the tears fall as the warm summer rain hits your skin.

May of 2012—Senior year; Graduation day.

After that faithful day where you cried near the forest, you vowed to try to get Seth to talk to you. You were determined to have him to say something, anything, about what the hell was going on. But all you got was the cold shoulder, a growl, or his friends telling you to back off. He wouldn’t even look at you. You became bitter and he became a thing of the past. Your feelings for him came to a halt as you lost touch with the boy you’ve always loved.

It finalized in the middle of the first semester that year. You decided to wait sometime after Harry’s death to return everything. Even at the funeral, he avoided you. It was then, your feelings harden, and everyone could see it. So, it was no shock to Sue when you came by to return his things in exchange for yours. Since he wasn’t home, you took that chance to do so and left without saying a word, a note, or anything. Plus, you doubt he would’ve noticed.

But he did. When he returned home that evening, he instantly knew you were in his room. He could not only feel it, but he smelt your fragrance, he smelt you. He noticed the trinkets, sweaters, and brush all gone. Some clothes you kept in the drawers, gone. Everything was gone. He then saw the box you left on his bed. He lifts the top only to discover everything he’d ever given you. A ring with a wolf on it that you only took off when you washed the dishes, took a shower, or was asleep. His sweaters and shirts he’d leave behind if he slept over. Hair ties you both shared; you guys had to color coordinate occasionally, he had red and you had purple.

On the floor, he noticed a bag of his shoes and clothes that he doubt he could fit any more. He looked at the stuff you returned and just stood there with his eyes closed and let the tears he had been holding in go. He hated everything that he was and everything that had happened. He hated Sam and his gag rule. He hated how because of this, his father died; he never blamed Leah, he blamed his genes. But most of all, he hated how he lost the love of his life, the woman he always saw himself with, who he wanted to marry, to grow old with. He hated how he lost Y/n. He was afraid to look; if she wasn’t his imprint, it would kill him. So, Seth just watched her from afar. He still looked after her when she didn’t notice. But he couldn’t risk it, even when his gut and friends told him to.

He felt two sets of arms wrap around him. Leah and Sue held onto him as he cried all of what he had been holding in. Memories of them since they were kids, those little moments of the almost that they had with one another. The time in 8th grade where he was ready to tell her that he loved her but chickened out when Kyle Graden asked her to the Spring dance.

“She’s gone.” Had been his final words before he broke down and let the pain ooze from him.

December of 2022—Y/n Wedding

“You’re going Seth, and that’s final,” Sue told her youngest cub as he begrudgingly got ready to go to the one celebration he wishes he could run away from. Y/n wedding. When they got the invitation, Seth pulled a Jacob and hightailed out of La Push. It had taken a month or so for him to get back, and when he did, he wasn’t him. He knew he had no right to stop it, he knew he had no say in anything. But it killed him finally having this day to come. A day he knew would come eventually. Her wedding day.

“Come on man. We know it hurts, but you guys haven’t seen each other in, what, 10 years. She’s probably changed! You may realize that she was just a crush and nothing more.” Paul says, attempting to be helpful. Seth cracks a noticeably fake smile and just gets up to go to the ceremony that is being held at the nearby chapel.

Once there, they guys situate in the back and carry on a conversation while Seth looks around the place. He laughed to himself, if he remembered correctly, which he did, he knew this wasn’t Y/n idea of a wedding. It was Christmas themed, with sparkles and fake snow everywhere. You hated the idea of holiday-themed anything (especially Christmas). The overrated holiday, along with Valentine’s Day, bothered you. So seeing this Winter Wonder Land shit, made him realize, this wasn’t you. At all.

“Yeah, Y/n/n did not plan this wedding,” Leah said next to Seth. Only validating what was Seth’s inner monologue. You then herd the music start and the bridesmaid and groomsman walk next to one another towards the front of the church. The groom waiting up there for Y/n; Seth loathed him. A hand was placed on his shoulder by Sam, who made him realize that this isn’t the time nor place. Seth continues to watch the scenery as the flower girls throwing sparkles and peddles on the ground. Leah gagging at the girly-like shit they both knew you hated. Then, the music tempo changed, and the pastor motioned us to rise.

Y/n walked next to her dad down the aisle and from what Seth could see, you were a sight to stare at. Pictures were being taken and smiles were being drawn your way as you continue to the piece of shit you were to marry.

“Yeah, she really had no control. She always hated cake topper dresses.” Everyone nodded at that. You may not have known or met pack, but from what they could tell from the memories Seth and Leah had and when they watched you from afar, they knew you hated the bullshit of the wedding you were having.

The wedding continued, vowels where said, and a kiss was shared. But that’s not what broke Seth, no, out of everything, it's not what killed him. When you turned after being pronounced as Mrs. Forayed, somehow, by the universe screaming, Seth was hit with the realization of his mistake. Air left his body as he fell dead weight to the seat beneath him. The second your eyes locked, everything slowed down, time stopped, even your heart skipped a beat. There was no one in that room except you two and the shadow of regret clouding over him and the love breaking through your heart for the boy you love.

“Seth…Are you-” Jacob said.

“It was her…” Everyone looked at one another, then at you. Your eyes didn’t leave that spot and you felt something stir within you. The arm wrapped around your waist pulled you back to reality as you faked a smile at your husband. Feeling bad that it is not him you want but knowing that you can’t turn back.

Seth left in a hurry, leaving everyone without a second thought. While in the car on her way to the reception, a howl in the distance could be heard.

If only he looked at her once, it would have been them at the altar.

[austennerdita2533]

A/N: Hey @commonxcrimminals​ remember that Melendaire Fix-It-Of-Sorts fic I’ve had on my computer since freaking MARCH?? Well...I finally finished it!  CAN YOU BELIEVE. Anyway, were it not for your oodles of encouragement or our constant why-did-Melendez-have-to-die wailing sessions on every social media platform out there, I probably never would’ve summoned the gall to finish or post the darn thing. So thank you!

This one is dedicated to you, my friend. Love you more than I can possibly convey! ❤️ ❤️

Summary: When it comes to moments of life or death, Neil and Claire learn sometimes one defibrillation of the heart can reset everything.

Also here: (A03)

Enjoy! xx

Defibrillation

The sirens start, red and blue lights cutting through the darkness with speed. Neil’s strapped to a gurney, conscious but barely, with tubes and leads sticking from him like he’s part machine while his eyes fixate on the gray-white swirl of the ceiling.

What’s happened? Where is he? Why the hell does he hurt so much? Right now the blunt ache over his left temple is a trifle compared to the scalpel-like shard that’s been stabbing through his abdomen every two to four seconds and has nausea roaring into the back of his throat with each bump, with each gloved touch that ghosts over his prone form in examination, his vision dotted and blurred and fading…

It’s fading quickly…

…yes…

…f-fading…

…so…q u i c k…ly…

Monitors beep in the background. Softly at first, then louder. Faster. Shorter. Quieter. Steadily the screens track his stats before diving into erratic nonsense that can’t be pieced together as his fists curl into the sheet beneath him, knuckles bumping against a metal railing.

Neil’s eyelids burn, they grow heavy. All he tastes is blood and bile. A mask hangs over his mouth so he can’t talk, can’t call out either, the oxygen cool as it filters through his nostrils, little hairs tickling. He winces once, takes another shallow breath in—and then nothing.

Blackness pops. Noiseless but everywhere. Like a falling curtain, it frays the edges of the world until he can no longer see them.

Coldness slams like a hammer over his chest, pouring, rippling, spreading out with tendrils to invade cell after cell until before he knows it he’s drifting away from time and thoughts and oxygen that won’t hold steady…He’s sinking down, down, down into a rigid stillness that refuses to lift.

But then—

A flurry of movement to his right. Behind his head. Next comes a lot of pronounced clunking, swearing, whispering; perhaps even some harried tearing or unzipping.

No, no, no. Stay with me, pleads a familiar voice from above him in echo. With his head spinning with delirium, however, he’s unable to place who is speaking.

Come on, Neil. Don’t do this, not now. Hold on for me.

He feels distant, detached, like he’s been sunk under water but never went swimming.

Hold on for me, the voice repeats again. Please.

The words are wet and desperate as they land on his chest with two hands that push, and push, his eyes slitting open just wide enough for Claire’s face to float into focus for a moment then out again like a dream, the heel of her palm pounding into him with the force of a tether to keep him there with her, alive, stable - one breath, one blink, one heartbeat at a time.

The fleeting sight of her brings him back. Hair. Scrubs. Hands. Eyes. She brings him back into the pain and into the light. Her relief, that smile—he needs it; it’s a leash yanking him off the ledge of surrender and telling him to fight for another chance to live. To speak. After all, he’s a surgeon, so doesn’t he already know time is a borrowed gift with no guarantees?

Stay with me, Claire says again. And this time, he clings. He clings to her as hard as he can even as the world goes black a second time, his heart still full of too many unsaid things.

She waits for the door to click shut behind her in the stairwell.

Alone on the landing, there are no more voices. No more computers or phones. There are no more charts to read, labs to run, procedures to schedule, or medications to administer.

Wheelchairs stop squeaking through the hallways. Their wheels are no longer sticking to speckled white tiles as they turn the corner and head toward recovery. The smell of brewing coffee in the lounge near OR Four becomes a stale memory because here, and only here, do the demands of the hospital dissolve long enough for Claire to collapse her head into her palms for a moment, and breathe. Just breathe.

She only takes a moment. A second to grapple with the enormity of all that is happening.

Eyes closed, thoughts scattered, her fingers coil around something metal in her pocket and idle.

Her thumbnail traces sleek edges, silver grooves. A chain droops over her knuckles and scratches. Soothes. Familiarity tingling with each pass.

It’s a cross she fists in the quiet gloom. A token. Some beat-up trinket of her mother’s she couldn’t part with after her death so she’s taken to carrying it with her like a talisman even though she hasn’t believed in anything, or in anyone, for a long time. Not for years and years. Not until him, that is.

Neil.

He’ll be fine, Claire assures herself with a nod and a sniff. He’ll be okay.

The scan results sit in a folder next to her feet, still in need of a consult, still in want of a surgical scheme. The words “stable but critical” float in her periphery then flicker out again like a nightmare that won’t fade.

He needs to be okay, she thinks. Cold bites into her palm as she squeezes then releases, squeezes then releases, her pinky tracing the divots the pendant leaves behind on her skin.

He has to be.

Slowly, organically, Neil has chipped away at her walls to become a fixture in her life and she likes him there. Needs him there. She realizes she’ll do anything to keep him around, to keep him close to her for as long as she can.

So believer or not, Claire bows her head. She closes her eyes tighter and lets faith bleed from her heart straight into her hands.

Clutching her mother’s cross to her breast, begging for the strength and the skill to save him so they can have more time to bowl badly or laugh the night away over beers, so she can have the chance to say the words she already feels, she utters an urgent plea into the space around the stairs.

Claire wishes so hard for him to live that the words flutter as they take wing. They transform into symbols of her hope and despair:

A fossil in the air.

A sob with feathers.

A scream leeching from her compressed lips like a prayer.

.

.

.

Neil wakes with his head bandaged, his abdomen dissected with stitches, and a tuft of curly softness blanketed over his arm.

Squinting against the harsh hospital light, he sits up. Allows himself to adjust. To take in his surroundings.

Currently he lies flat in bed. A central line coils up his arm. His head pounds, and his mouth is dry. Wrapped in scratchy sheets, in sticky gauze and bandages, he notices the curtains are pulled shut for privacy and that there’s a woman fast asleep in the space beside him.

The first thing he does is smile. The second thing he does is tremble, relief as well as gratitude pricking the corners of his eyes.

The sight of Claire snoring and pillowed against his side overwhelms him so much that he shifts to brush his hand over the crown of her head without thinking. His touch, both featherlight and timid because he’s worried she’s a mirage on the verge of disappearing, petrified that one wrong move will shatter the reality of this moment like glass, Neil cups her cheek in his palm and he marvels—he savors.

He loses himself in the pure simplicity of touch. The chaste pleasure of it. Tracing the curves of her face with his thumb until she wakes.

“Hey there, sleepy head. Nice to see you again,” he whispers as her eyelids flicker open.

“Hey, you. Welcome back,” she stirs groggily and yawns. “Can I get you anything? Pillows? Blankets? Meds? Here, let me—”

Claire makes to move, to fuss over him, but she stops when Neil shakes his head, holding her in place with a look, with a languid stroke of his fingers along her jawline. Relenting, she softens enough to desist fidgeting. Then leans into his palm to ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” she balks, sitting up. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. Though, I do have the sneaking suspicion I was autopsied in my sleep for spare parts,” he jokes, wincing, “but otherwise I’m not bad. Fuzzy. Sore mostly. And you?”

“I’m okay, I guess. You know…considering.” Her shoulders heavy, Claire shrugs as she averts her gaze to check his fluids and vitals on the monitor, exhaling like she’s been holding in a breath for years. “Anyway, I’m much better now that you’re out of surgery.”

“—Not to mention conscious.”

“Right.”

“And talking again,” Neil adds glibly.

“Yeah,” she laughs but it falls flat. “That, too.”

“How long have I been out, by the way?” It’s a pointed question. Uncomfortable. Painful for them both to address because of all the might have been’s and almost was’s it carries with it, but he needs to know. He has to be in possession of all the facts.

Turning toward the window, Claire adjusts the blinds and swipes at her face, hiccupping back some stray emotion she doesn’t want him to see. “It’s been a while," she explains. Doesn't elaborate.

“Oh.”

“Yeah," she says, her voice small. “Things were touch and go for a few days.”

“I see.” A beat of strained silence. Then another. And another. He’s starting to notice the weariness she wears about her person now: the paleness, her rimmed complexion, the wrinkles in her clothes. He even recognizes the remnants of a few to-go lattes in the trash bin. It makes him wonder how many hours she’s spent camped out in this room while he recovered—weighing the odds. Pouring over charts. Pacing the floor while she waited for signs of life that weren’t guaranteed, or worse, might not have been coming at all.

“Hey, Claire?” he breaks in softly.

“Hm?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Startled and sobering, she turns. Sits back down on the edge of the bed. “For what?” she asks.

“Nearly dying to start,” Neil says with a sigh. “For the cowardice I’ve been hiding behind. For not knowing one-sided conversations aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, or that living inside your own head lands you nowhere except in hell.

“I’ve been stupid and careless… wasted so much time. I’m a fool for not having told you I’m in love with you sooner, for one,” he continues huskily, his voice breaking around emotion and a smile when she gapes back at him in disbelief. “But I am. In love with you, that is. Have been for a while.”

Claire’s eyes are red and glassy now. Her head has fallen during his speech to make a pillow of his chest, a place from where she blinks even and level back at him. Studying him as if he were a scientific specimen.

Still, there’s a warmth about her that puts him at ease. Her attentiveness is a balm that makes him stronger and bolder even though he has no reason to be.

Shrugging, Neil offers a slight upward quirk of his mouth before adding, “I could have lost you. Best to just—lay it all out there at this point, don’t you think?”

The sentimentality behind his choice of words is not lost upon him but he finds there’s no point in discretion now. There is nothing dumber to him than chasing back courage with fear when he knows how he’s ended up here, and why. There has to be a reason he’s come back to this world. To this hospital. To this moment. And to her.

There has to be.

He believes there’s a future out there where they can hold happiness in both hands, he feels it like a scalpel pressed against an artery. All they have to do is be brave enough to make a grab for it. Mark the incision. Cut the damn thing wide open and let possibility bleed where it bleeds.

“If you don’t realize I love you, too,” Claire sniffs at long last, trying to sound droll and unaffected, though not quite managing it with tears spilling down her cheeks, “then you’re an idiot.”

“An idiot, huh?”

“The biggest.”

“Right.” He considers this seriously. “Got it. Now, can you rate that on a scale of 1 to 10 for me, please?”

Snorting, she fires back without missing a beat, “Sure. Try infinity.”

Neil laughs at that. Then, with undisguised tenderness, he frames Claire’s head in his hands and pulls her toward him by the nape until she’s tangled in sheets and IV wires with him. To hell with the pain.

“Well then. Let’s see if I can do something to lower that number, Dr. Browne,” he says before capturing her mouth in an overdue kiss to cinch things between them with chemistry. With feeling. Jumpstarting their hearts like a defibrillator that will reset everything.

That one kiss, as it turns out, marks the first step towards being able to forge a future together. A start. To them, it comes to represent just that: a new beginning.

[goldenncherrybombb]

Adore You

The one where Harry gets lost and y/n tries to help

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

He’s late, again. Of fucking course he’s late! When the hell isn’t he? I love him, I do. But it’s time like these where she questions it nowadays. I don’t know where it went wrong. We were inseparable, so loving. We were perfect. But then it’s like a flip got switched. Harry’s always out in the studio, with friends, or at writing sessions, or meetings, or whatever the fuck else he has. We had a date planned tonight. We have had this date planned for a bloody month! And he’s an hour late. An HOUR.

I get up and leave, embarrassed with heated cheeks and a frown. I don’t know how much more I can take of this. First it was dinner with my mom, then it was a writing session that was mandatory and made me and everyone else waste our time because Harry was too hungover to show up, and so many more instances. I just, I don’t understand what happened. We barley talk in the day anymore, we used to talk for hours and now we say little to each other. Harry was so cuddly in bed, but now he turns his back.

I shove my key into the lock and twist it harshly, opening and then slamming the door. A note on the mirror above the small table with a dish for our keys, and other trinkets from traveling, caught her eye quickly. It read ‘be back later- h.’ Not even an ‘Xx’ HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.

Me not knowing why he’s suddenly being cold is making me crazy. I’m beginning to feel insecure and maybe think he thinks I’m ugly. But that wouldn’t make since because we had sex yesterday. Maybe he just plain out doesn’t like me and is pretending because he is trying to find a way to let me down easily. He’s probably so revolted by me he doesn’t even want to be friends.

I grab a pillow from the bed and throw it at the wall aimlessly while letting out a loud ‘fuck.’ I had a little anger fit, then I got sad and just wanted to cry and go back to a few months ago where they always went out, made songs together, went shopping, etc.

So she gets up and packs her bags. Thankful she never sold her house, but not thankful that it’s down the road from here. Only reason she kept the house was because it would be too much of a hassle to put on the market with her job and how much she travels. Plus it was one of her homes and she loved it. Somehow fitting all of her clothes into her suitcases. Then she got everything else into duffle bags and normal bags. She did leave some stuff behind, like a shirt, her favorite mug, and her perfume. The little things slipped her mind and all she cared about was Harry. He was always on her mind, will probably always be even though they won’t be together after today, or on a break. Y/n’s not sure what to tell him. She doesn’t want to break up with him. Not at all. But she can’t put herself through this, and she can’t put him through it either because whatever he has going on needs to be delt with, and y/n can only help so much. She has tried to get him of the black pit he has seemed to fall in. But nothing worked. And she knows from experience that no one can make you truly feel better than yourself. When she felt so damn lost in high school, and didn’t know who she was, what she wanted to do, how she was gonna get to her goal, she fell into a pit of sadness.

Everyone tried to help, but it seemed like nothing would. But then she got into music even more. She had already loved music before hand, already somewhat invested in it. But she wasn’t looking into it as something she would want to pursue. But then she learned how to play her first instrument, and it lead to another, and another, until she could make a band by herself. It all came naturally to her. Her fingers knowing where every note is as she didn’t even need sheet music to play a full song. Just needed to hear the beginning. And that brought her out if it, the girl had finally found out what she wanted to do after all. And her supporting friends and family all told her she would go somewhere today. And look where she is today! Writing her first album.

Once all her bags were in the car she cleaned up the house and laid on the bed, exhausted, she stared at the ceiling and got lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t know how long it had been but Harry was home and the sun was fully set. He didn’t even call out for her, didn’t say a word. She knew it was him because she could see him pull into the driveway.

“Hey.” She said when Harry walked in the room.

“Hello, why aren’t your keys in the bowl? Thought you weren’t home before I saw your car behind the house.” Because they are in my pocket, and I am so fucking scared to tell you what she was about to. Is what she thinks, but she replies calmly.

“Oh, I must’ve misplaced em.” She shrugs, trying her best to not show how nervous she was. He hums and goes into the bathroom. Y/n can see him from the bed and watches as he swings mouthwash in his mouth. “Harry, can I talk to you?” She questions timidly.

“Sure, give me a second.” She nods and looks down at her fingers, picking at her nails. Once he’s done he sits in front of her on the king bed.

“What’s wrong?” He questions, sounding worried.

“I don’t know how to even start a conversation like this.” She whispers brokenly, her voice catching towards the end as she already feels her eyes well up. “I love you Harry. But you are not the Harry I know.” She looks up slowly, his head hanging lower at his words, knowing shes right. “You have changed. And I know people change, and change can be good, but this isn’t. If you don’t like me anymore please spare me my breath and tell me.” He immediately shakes his head and immediately replies with a ‘that’s not true. ‘Course I like you.’ She grabs his hand in a moment of desperation and looks at him with a broken soul. “Then tell me what it is. Please. I can not do this anymore. It’s tearing me down, h. And I can not stand to see you hurt yourself. You don’t think I notice the taste of whiskey on your tongue? Gum doesn’t hide everything. I’m not saying you can’t drink I’m just saying it’s not making you feel better if that is why you are doing it. I don’t know what to do, Harry. I really don’t. You don’t ever show up to anything we have planned anymore, you rarely say I love you unless we are fucking, you just- you disappeared almost.” Tears stream down her face but she wipes them away harshly.

“I feel lost, y/n. So fuckin’ lost. I don’t know who I am anymo’” He has tears building in his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The first sob breaks from him when he begins to speak again. “I read everythin’ people say about me. I used to not, but I saw one bloody article on m’browser an’I clicked it, an’ then another and another. I got in my own head, got lost. And I think, ‘am I really the man they say I am?’ Its- it’s driving me mad I feel this way because I have everything I could ever want. I feel like I give everyone my all. But it’s never enough. They don’t know me, but yet they write these harsh things.”

“Harry, Prince Charming, please look at me.” She says quietly, tears streaming down her face. “Honey, do not give a damn about what they say. Because you are you at the end of the day. They only get to see a small snipped out of your day. Not the whole 24 hours. So fuck what they have to say!” Her voice raises some as she speaks passionately, always hating the tabloids. She sighs lightly and looks him in the eyes. “Know I love you so damn much. I will always love you. Always. You are always enough. We have been through so many things for so many years. You are my first love.” She speaks with a sniffle at the end, their hands intertwined. “I just- you need to find yourself. You have become someone I don’t know anymore, h. You need to work on you. Get in the right headspace. We need to take a break.” I whisper the last part after a brief pause and with a broken heart, not wanting to say the words, but needing to. They say you gotta let the ones you love go and now it’s my turn to do that. “I will always love you Harry. You were my first love. But how can you love me if you can’t love yourself? We have always told eachother one thing we will will never do, and that is hold the other back. I feel like I’m holding you back and I said I will let you go, and today is the day I am doing that. I can’t hold you back. There is so much more of your mind that neither of us have yet got to discover, find that, because once you do it’s beautiful. You need to get out there and see the world. Sure you have traveled everywhere, but you need to really see it. Get out of the big cities, find small shops you love. You need to find yourself, bub. I will be there, watching and helping when needed if you will allow me too. But for now, we need space. You have your career I have mine, and we can’t hold eachother back from that. ” Her hand goes on his cheek, him leaning into her touch. Both of them still have tears flowing down there face and stuffy noses, but neither care because both of them know this will be the last time they see eachother for awhile. She smiles at him one last time before standing and walking out of the room quietly.

“Please don’t go. I will change, promise yeh. Please, y/‘n. Let me adore and love you like it’s the only thing I will ever do.” his voice breaks as he speaks and sniffles in between. She cries harder when she hears him. He looks so sad and she looks the same. Both of them an emotional mess.

“We both know this is for the better.” She pauses for a second and closes her eyes to collect herself before opening them and looking back at him. “ I love you. Never forget that please. Never forget our friendship. I’m always here for you, together or not. This is not a goodbye, it’s a see you later.” Her hand slips from the door as Harry watches the love of his life walk always and he does nothing about it. Knowing it is better for her because his actions are hurting her and breaking her down and he couldn’t pay attention before to notice. He was furious at himself.

Once the door shut and her car drove down the driveway for the last time did he let himself truly sob. His face in the pillow as he wished he could take back everything he missed, all the times he was snippy, all of the bad.

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 13: Guilty Of Caring

The next morning, Sebastian wakes me up with three loud knocks on the door. Annoyed to be suddenly pulled from my slumber, I look out the window. It’s ridiculously early. Thankfully, he brings a tray with coffee and a sandwich when I tell him to come in.

“Rise and shine, Anaïs,” he says cheerfully. Ugh, I hate morning people. I shoot him a groggy glare and rub the sleep from my eyes. “Get dressed and meet me in the garden, by the fountain. I have a job for you.” Upon saying that, he leaves again, and I sit at my desk to eat breakfast.

I knew my offer to help would bite me in the ass. Still, I set myself up for this, so I can’t really complain, and truth be told, I am grateful for something to do other than sit around in the library, which I now know is practically Leonardo’s second bedroom.

After our conversation yesterday, he helped me find the book I was looking for. He seems to know those shelves by heart. I stayed there as I researched and took notes for my paper, while he scribbled on a notebook himself until we were called to have dinner. I went to bed early after that.

I walk up to the fountain, where Sebastian is already waiting for me. He hands me a neatly folded apron, which I put on without question. Above us, Mozart’s playing floats out through the open window of the music room.

“I need you to plant some violets for me. But first, let me show you where everything is.”

I follow him as he guides me around the garden, explaining which plants are kept in each area. As everything Sebastian does, it’s perfectly organized, and much larger than I thought it would be. Under the pale morning sun, we make our way to a greenhouse near the edge of the property. In it, all sorts of tropical plants cover every surface, safe for a small work table in the center. Once he’s showed me where all the tools and supplies are, I turn to him.

“Great, so where do you want me to plant them?” I ask, already eager to get down to business. Even after I started working as a chemist and was no longer employed at the flower shop, I always loved gardening, and kept doing it as much as I could in my small London flat.

“That’s the spirit,” Sebastian chuckles. “Right where we started the tour, by the fountain. Mozart likes looking at them when he’s composing. Now, unless you have any questions, I shall return to my work inside.”

“All clear,” I nod. “See you later.”

Sebastian leaves me, taking a different path back to the mansion, and I gather some supplies and the tray of seedlings he pointed out before in a large basket before making my way to the fountain.

I have my sleeves rolled up and my hands in the dirt when a shadow covers the flower I am in the middle of planting.

“Good morning, Aiko-san,” says Dazai behind me. He bends to look over my shoulder. “Hard at work, I see.”

“Anaïs,” I correct him, but turn to him with a smile. I don’t mind the company. “I offered to help Sebastian, since I’ll be living here for a while. I guess that makes me the new gardener.”

“Mind if I stay here with you? I like to write outside,” he informs me as he gets back up and takes a seat on the edge of the fountain.

“By all means.” I return to my labor in silence, but then I remember something. “Hey, Dazai? What do you write about?” I look up at him and wipe my hands on the apron. “I just realized I don’t really know anything about you, compared to the other residents. Cultural differences, and all.”

“Well...” Dazai starts, and takes a thoughtful glance at a nearby tree. “Before I became a vampire, I used to write about my own life, mostly. Sometimes I just wrote about life in general. I still do, but this is just a poem I can’t seem to finish.”

He is interrupted by Isaac, who wanders out of the mansion looking at the floor and calling the name ‘Harry’. As soon as he sees me, he scurries away. I didn’t even know he was avoiding me.

“What is he doing?” I ask, earning a laugh from Dazai.

“Looking for some apples, probably,” he jokes. I stare at him, unsatisfied with his answer. “He’s trying to find his pet hedgehog. The little thing must have ran off somewhere, though I don’t blame him. Isaac-chan is always so grumpy.”

Was that apple thing about how Isaac discovered gravity? I just roll my eyes with a chuckle and continue planting the violets. Meanwhile, Dazai focuses on his notebook, occasionally looking around, I assume for inspiration. By the time I am done with all the flowers, it’s almost lunchtime. As if he read my mind, Dazai approaches me.

“Wanna take a break? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He extends his hand to help me get up and I take it. I decide to leave all the tools there and come back later to clean up.

We get to the dining room and take a seat at the table. To my surprise, Sebastian has already served some food and a bottle of rouge for Dazai. There is also a third set of plates, along with another bottle. I wonder who it’s for.

My unspoken question is answered when Isaac enters the dining room, only to see me and swiftly turn around to leave the way he came from.

“Isaac, wait!” I call after him, but he gets away too fast. With a resigned sigh, I grab my fork and start eating. Dazai observes me with amusement, but does not voice whatever he’s thinking.

As soon as I finish, I quickly excuse myself to return to the garden. I need to put away the tools before I forget. I carry the full basket to the greenhouse and begin organizing the supplies. As I return a bag of fertilizer to a low cabinet, I see something move out of the corner of my eye.

I search around the corners, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. A sound coming from under a shelf alerts me to the location of whatever animal it was that I saw. I hope it’s not a rat. I lower myself to the ground and look under the shelf, and what I find surprises me.

“Hey there, little guy.” Pressed against the corner, a small hedgehog trembles and struggles to move. “Are you stuck?”

I reach for a pair of thick gloves on the work table, and after putting them on, I return to aid the trapped animal. I reach under the shelf and feel around for him, unable to see what I’m doing. It only takes a few seconds for me to grab him gently and, scared, he moves around in my hand. I successfully pull him from the tight corner and get back on my feet, holding the little beast in my cupped hands. He puffs out his spines. Thankfully, the gloves do their job and protect me from being stung by them.

This must be Harry. I think I should take him to Isaac, seeing as he has been searching everywhere, but the physicist wants nothing to do with me, apparently. Oh well, there’s nothing to lose if I try to speak with him, other than a small portion of my ego. 

I knock on Isaac’s door with a gloved hand, and wait for him to open. He takes his time, but when he finally does, his eyes immediately light up.

“Harry! Where have you been, little friend?” he softly exclaims. I hand the hedgehog over to Isaac.

“I found him hiding in the greenhouse. He’s a scaredy one, but I think he likes me now. Don’t you, Harry?” I take off the gloves and stroke him with my finger, earning a happy little chirp. The poor thing was terrified, but I fed him some worms in order to keep him calm.

Suddenly, Isaac seems to notice who he’s talking to. He looks away and quickly thanks me as he tries to close the door, but I wedge my boot in the way before he can shut me out completely.

“Isaac, please. I just want to talk.”

He sighs, fully aware that I am not going anywhere, and steps away from the door to let me in.

“You’re avoiding me,” I state, softly. I walk into the room and close the door behind me. “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to.”

“I-I could have killed you...” He sits on the bed and puts Harry down next to him. Meanwhile, his eyes look at anything that isn’t me.

“I know. But you didn’t.” I sit down next to him, and he moves away. That’s okay, these things take time. “I’m sorry. You must have been so hungry... It was my fault that your meal was late. Le Comte explained everything. I can’t imagine what it’s like, but I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened, Isaac.”

He turns halfway to face me, but his eyes are still on the floor.

“You’re not scared of me?”

I shake my head, a sad smile on my lips. He really made a point to avoid me just so I wouldn’t feel scared.

“How could I be when you’re this sweet?”

He blushes at my words, but doesn’t say anything. The silence is not uncomfortable at all, it just... is. I take this moment to look around the room. All sorts of tools and mechanical trinkets line the shelves on the wall, and a dismantled clock sits on his desk. My face lights up when I spot something in the corner.

“Is that a sewing machine?”

He nods, and I almost decide to leave it at that when he starts talking.

“I found it in the attic and repaired it, but I have no use for it.” That is the most words I’ve ever heard him say.

“Could I... Could I borrow it?” I ask shyly. He shrugs.

“You can keep it. It just takes up space and gathers dust here.” Once again I am surprised by him talking, although his voice is so quiet I would not be able to hear it if I wasn’t sitting right next to him. We’re making progress.

“Thank you, Isaac,” I smile at him, even though he’s not looking at me, and get up to look at the machine, which makes me realize something. “Wait... This is not like the machines I’m used to. I don’t know how to use it.”

“I guess... I could teach you...” Now that was unexpected, in the best way possible. I turn around to face him, my smile returning even bigger.

“You’d really do that?”

“It’s the least I can do,” he simply says. Before I have time to thank him, he gets up and approaches me before pulling the sewing machine to the middle of the room. 

“See this latch on the table? You need to open it to pull the bottom thread through the hole and attach it to this bit here next to the wheel,” he explains. He sounds a lot more enthusiastic now. “To make it spin you step on the pedal repeatedly. Then, for the top thread, you have loop it around this bobbin and feed it through the needle, then the pedal and the wheel under the table will do the rest of the work. If it gets jammed, try spinning this wheel up here by hand in the opposite direction and then pull on the thread.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Without thinking, I throw my arms around Isaac and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment and then goes limp. I finally let go when he awkwardly clears his throat, and the moment he is free from my embrace he looks away, a pink tint on his cheeks.

“Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed. I got too excited. “I’ll stop bothering you now.”

He just nods and watches silently as I drag the large contraption out of the room. I stop in my tracks and turn to face him before he closes the door.

“Isaac? It was nice talking to you,” I tell him. “I hope we can be friends someday.”

[angelic-holland]

First Instagram

Summary: Tom visits you in New York before heading back to London, and you two go public.

Warnings: fluffly fluff fluff, feelings, smut (a wee bit)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I know I said these would be blurbs but apparently I don’t know how to write short things, peep the rest of the series in my masterlist (linked in bio). Enjoy!

“Missed you,” Tom says, face nuzzling into your neck in the doorway of your apartment, bag forgotten on the floor. 

“Missed you too, how are you? How was California?” You ask, pulling him into your apartment.

“It was so great, had a really good time on the talk shows and interviews and such. I know you gotta catch up on the movies but I think you’ll like this one,” he says, detaching his arms from your waist for a second to grab his bag and close the door behind him. 

“You know, I watched Spiderman Homecoming, the other day,” you say as Tom’s arms wrap back around your waist. You squeal as he lifts you up, kissing you as your arms steady yourself on his shoulders. 

You missed Tom, you missed his voice, you heard it often on FaceTime and through calls but something about having him here, in person, was almost like a sensory overload. 

His warmth, his scent, his voice. His everything. 

“Wanna see your tattoo!” Tom all but shouts against your lips, his eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas as he sets you down and you take his hand in yours, guiding him to your bedroom and tugging down your shorts nonchalantly as you sit on the bed. 

His eyes grow impossibly wider and his lips turn up into a smile, his tongue between his teeth as he kneels on the ground. 

You sit up with your arms resting behind you, shivering as his hands rest on your knees, spreading your thighs further. 

It wasn’t sexual, sure, it’s been a solid three weeks or so since you’ve seen him and you couldn’t wait to ride him until you couldn’t anymore, but there was an innocent twinkle in his eyes as they roam up your thigh to the small Spiderman face resting on the outer edge of your upper thigh. 

“Can I touch it?” He asks, big brown eyes looking up at you, gentle fingers gliding around it.

“It’s still healing, you can touch it the next time you see me sport.”

“Sport?” He laughs, cheek resting against your thigh. 

“I’ve been, ahh,” you gasp as his lips trail up your leg, leaving soft kisses in his wake, “I read the Great Gatsby, sport.”

“Isn’t that what Gatsby calls Nick?” He asks, and you don’t even realize his lips are inches away from your red lace panties until you look down at him.

“Yeah, Nick has a huge gay crush on him.”

“That’s not in the movie.”

“What? Tobey McGuire does a pretty good job at it if you ask me,” you say, voice softer now as his hands rest on your hips, fiddling with the band of your underwear under your Tattoo Dice T-shirt. 

“I guess the book might be different,” he sighs.

“You could listen to the audiobook of it,” you suggest, knowing he doesn’t like reading.

“Maybe I’ll give it a try, sport.”

You collapse, literally onto the bed in a fit of giggles, which pulls Tom to laugh against you, the vibrations against you making you moan. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks as he climbs onto your bed, wincing as it squeaks underneath both of your weights. 

“No, just, funny, having a casual conversation while you’re sitting like that between my legs.”

“I quite enjoy being between your legs,” he smirks, nose nudging your hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

After a few heated rounds filled with passionate kisses, miss you, miss you more’s, and several orgasms, you collapse on top of Tom, his fingers drawing patterns on your sweaty back as you both catch your breath.

“Harry wants us to go to the Coney Island place with him tonight.”

“It’ll be packed.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, lips ghosting along yours.

“And people will know who you are.”

“Mhm,” He mumbles against your lips, tongue gently meeting your own.

You kiss lazily for a few minutes as you think.

You could go with them, get noticed with Tom, everyone would know you’re a couple. They’ve already seen pictures of you leaving the club that fateful night, but nothing was ever confirmed, nothing was ever brought up again really. But as you kissed, eyes peeking open and looking at the beautiful man underneath you, feeling his strong arm around your waist, his cool fingers against your back, you thought, what the hell? 

You pull away from his lips, “let’s do it.”

“Yeah? We can tell people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asks, voice rising in excitement.

“Yeah dork, we can tell people you’re my boyfriend, now let’s shower and get ready, I wanna meet your brother.”

***

“So this is the very special girl Tom talks about, nice to meet you,” Harry grins as the two of you get into the car. You insisted the subway would be easier but Tom said Harry hated the feeling of the New York City subway.

“Well you’re not living until you’ve been shoved up against a million people in the subway,” you laugh but agree, this was much nicer. 

“Ever been to Coney Island?” You ask and Harry shakes his head.

“It’s on my bucket list to try the hotdogs there, What’re they called?” Harry asks, camera hanging out the window.

“Nathan’s? They’re the best,” you sigh, head resting against the window on your side, Tom’s hand resting on your thigh, drawing smiley faces into your thigh around the Spiderman.

“Harry I expect like a million photos of tonight, gotta find one worthy of Instagram,” you say, and the brothers laugh.

“Don’t worry, I document like everything, you’ll get plenty of teeth rotting cute pictures of the two of you,” Harry teases and you all laugh.

On your way in to get tickets for rides, a few people recognized Tom and you happily stood back and watched as he took pictures with the fans, talking to them animatedly about the movie.

“This happen a lot?” You ask Harry as he takes pictures of the sunset. 

“All the time,” he laughs.

The rest of the night is much of the same, you’re grateful nobody’s decided to mob you.

Harry practically drools over the hot dog.

You and Tom go on the Cyclone, an old wooden roller coaster, Harry hangs back to take some pictures of the nightlife.

As you are strapped into your seat your hand grips his arm tightly.

“I’m not scared,” you say straight away. 

You were.

“Oh good, because I’m a little scared,” Tom laughs, hand covering your own.

You glance at him and he’s got a frightened little smile on his face and he might actually be scared. 

“Alright, we can be scared together,” you laugh as the coaster starts to move. 

And you grip his arm right and you’re both screaming and laughing the entire way. You glance over once during the ride as you go up one of the larger peaks, the sun was setting but it shone across Tom’s face, illuminating his slight tan and the few freckles that dotted his cheeks. He looked beautiful, and you wanted to shout it from the rooftops for the whole world to hear. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper as the coaster pauses at the top. 

“Huh?” He asks, eyebrow quirked as he looks at you.

“I said,” you start before the coaster tips and you’re falling, fast and hard, heart thudding against your chest, dropping down the jump and screaming, Tom’s screams a comfort to your ears. 

As you race along the track back to where you started your grip doesn’t lessen, you’re still falling. Thud thud thud, goes your heart.

Oh.

“You’re beautiful,” you say, wriggling your eyebrows as you unfasten the restraints from the ride.

“Why thank you, darling, shall we go find Harry?”

You nod, and he helps you up, hand clasping in your own, swinging between you as you walk out of the ride area.

***

Tom and you are playing at one of those carnival games, where you toss the darts and if you pop a balloon, you win a prize. He at first tried to insist that he could win it for you, that huge stupid teddy bear on the top shelf. 

After a few tries he let you play with him and you joke that you’ll win in one go. You don’t. 

“Alright, you guys tried your best, how about pick anything from the bottom shelf?” The man running the booth says, gesturing to the small teddy bears and trinkets.

“Whatcha think princess? You want the teddy bear?” Tom asks, hands wrapping around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder as you look over the prizes you could get.

“I think so,” you nod, and the man grabs one for you, handing it to you.

You hold it tight to your chest, “what’s his name?”

“Hmm, why don’t we name him sport?” He laughs and you gasp.

“It’s perfect!”

“Can we go check out the water?” Harry asks.

“My feet hurt from walking everywhere,” you grumble, hoping to call it a night.

“Here, your chariot awaits,” Tom says, turning around and holding his hands out.

“What you want to do? Give me a piggyback ride?”

“Hop up princess,” he says and you grip your new teddy bear tighter in one hand as you jump, his hands catching your thighs with ease as you grip his shoulders.

“I’m not killing you am I?” You huff as he starts to walk.

“Nope,” he assures you, thumb rubbing your thigh as he walks with Harry down to the water.

“Wait wait wait!” Harry shouts, running in front of you.

“What is it?” Tom asks, coming to a halt.

“This is a really cute picture, now act natural,” he says as he clicks away.

“Wait! We need one with sport!” You say, pulling the light yellow teddy bear out and sitting it on Tom’s shoulder as your head rests on his.

“Look over there!” He says and his hand moves from under your thigh to point at something, causing you to slip and let out a small scream, his hand scrambling back to catch you. 

Harry erupts into a fit of laughter, hunched over, pointing at the photo he just got.

Tomholland2013: pretty great night visiting my girl, sorry for almost dropping you sport

Attached was a teddy bear emoji. Tom’s caption made you laugh through your sleepy haze on the way back to your apartment.

He had chosen the picture Harry caught of your mouth wide open in a scream, his eyes wide in horror as he readjusts his grip on your leg, your newly won teddy bear dangling from one hand as the other clutches his shoulder when he almost dropped you. There were a few other photos Harry snagged, of you walking hand in hand, of his chin resting on your shoulder as you picked out the teddy bear, but this one by far was the funniest and the most memorable. 

“Should I tag you?” Tom asks, cheek resting on your shoulder as his hand hovered over the tag button.

“Sure,” you figure what harm could tagging you do? You were already in a million photos taken by what seemed like every person at Coney Island. 

“Done,” he says, posting the photo and turning his phone off. Your eyes watch as his fingers trace along your palm, along each crease, up to your fingers, dancing along them before finally intertwining with yours.  

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Falling fast. 

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Thanks for all the lovely love. Here is the next part :)

16

“Never underestimate the lingering effects of a dash of spontaneous comfort.”

The first thing Taron did once Robyn left, was change out of his heavy jeans into a clean pair of shorts that Robyn had washed for him the previous day, the smell of fabric softener light and delicate. She had left his clothes folded neatly on one of the empty shelves in her closet, ready for when he needed them. He walked bare foot into the kitchen and next he made himself another cup of coffee and carefully sat in the corner of the couch.

“Hey Alexa, play Joni Mitchell.”

After a few seconds, the music started and Taron closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh scent of coffee, enjoying the cool breeze from the air conditioning. It was utter heaven for Taron, peace beyond explanation. It was very rare for him to have moments like this where he knew no one was going to interrupt him or call him to set or wake him after he fell asleep in the make-up chair. Even if Robyn had of been in the apartment with him, he knew he would still feel relaxed because she would let him be. Robyn never felt the need to fill the silence with conversation, happy to sit and read or listen to music or watch TV. She never pestered him, allowing him to rest and sleep. He still hadn’t quite figured out how she knew what he needed without question, how she was willing to share her home, life and everything with a stranger, a man she had only known for nine days without a single thought or question, including her bed.

“Though it is pretty big bed.” Said Taron to himself, thinking to last night how they had both slept soundly on their sides having lots of room to move if needed.

The conditions under how they met were extraordinary and Taron felt as if he had known Robyn for years, not days and he absolutely trusted her beyond a doubt, their friendship one he knew would be strongly bonded for life. He slowly sipped his coffee, in no rush to hurry, looking around Robyn’s apartment as he did so. Pictures and trinkets, he hadn’t noticed before were decorated around the place, on top of the piano and on the wall. He snuggled back into the cushions, a happy sigh leaving his lips. The time two weeks ago he was deep into filming, literally running around the set in New York, sweating buckets in his suit as he was fixed to a harness jumping over yellow taxi cabs. Now he lay with his feet up, drinking coffee in a homely apartment belonging to the woman who has saved his life. It still sent startling shivers down his spine when he thought about it but it was getting easier with every day and it became part of their conversation now too, both remembering something else that had happened in the 7/11, taking the time to talk it through with each other. Taron was happy to talk to Robyn about anything to do with the 7/11 because not only did it ease his fears, it subdued Robyn’s too and led to another peaceful night’s sleep for her.

Taron yawned and stretched a little, a little guilty for feeling far too comfortable. He finished his drink and stood up carefully, moving to the kitchen to wash the cup at the sink, leaving it to drip dry beside their clean breakfast dishes. He looked around the kitchen, obvious signs of his presence in Robyn’s home such as the coffee maker which she had insisted on leaving out for him as well as his tablets, phone charger and shirt on the island. A small smile filled his lips as he recalled eating from the same fork as Robyn last night as she sat on the island. It was an action of mischief that he thought was going to get him into trouble until Robyn played along delightfully. Shaking the images from his head, he moved out of the kitchen and towards the fish long fish tank that partially separated the eating and living areas.

“They are only goldfish.” Robyn had explained to him when he asked her about it. “I don’t have a great reputation with tropical fish. Kind of boiled the last ones I had so I just stick to cold water fish.”

Underneath the tank, her bookshelf, filled messily with a number of books of varying topics. A full collection of Terry Goodkind along with Lord of the Rings were worn and well read. Harry Potter looked even more so, Taron picking up a copy of the first book which was in Irish, only recognising it by the picture on the cover and inside words were written in pencil in English, Robyn finding the need to translate the Irish even though she spoke it. Another shelf was full of baking and cook books and on the very bottom shelf, bulky lever arch files took up the whole row. Taron pulled the first one out and opening it, was met with a results page in which Robyn was awarded ninety-eight percent for her work inside. He skimmed through the poly pockets, the information inside relating to Robyn’s job, realising he was looking at her college work, recognising her writing, coloured pages, drawings and pictures filling each page. He carefully put it back in its place and moved over to the piano.

He would love to be able to sit and play like Robyn could and had contemplated looking into taking lessons but he was just so busy he wouldn’t be able to full commit it. On top of the piano were a few picture frames, pictures of Robyn with various people smiling back at him. He recognised her mam in one and the man standing the other side, Taron figured was her dad. Another was Robyn and a brown and white dog in the snow, another Robyn sitting in a park with some girlfriends. Above the piano, she had four glass frames with her college certificate awards and wounded around the frames a string with little clothes pegs, instant photos hanging down decorating the wall, pictures of Robyn and her life along with stunning sunsets and dolphins. Seeing the frames of the instant photos, Taron wondered if she had her own camera or did it belong to her friends. He hoped she owned one and would be willing to snap a picture with him to add it to her wall and maybe snap another so he could keep it too.

Moving past the television he browsed her DVD’s. Even though Netflix and streaming became the norm, Robyn still held tight to her DVD’s and Taron wasn’t surprised to see a vast collection of musicals and out of pure interest moved to the ‘R’ section and smiled as he pulled out Rocketman. Carrying the DVD back to the kitchen he routed out a marker from the drawer that Robyn called her ‘bits and bobs’ drawer and quickly signed the front of it.

“‘Not too sure about the guy who played Elton’.” He wrote, the words he had said to Robyn in the 7/11 when the argument had started between her and Maggie. “‘Your rocketman, Taron.”

Grinning he replaced the marker and put the DVD back in its place and as his curiosity grew, he moved to the ‘b’ section and found Bohemian Rhapsody.

“Of course.” He laughed and walked back into the kitchen and took the marker from the drawer again. “‘Really? The sooner we have this Elton/Freddie sing off, the better…’” He wrote on the cover of the DVD.

He replaced the DVD and glanced over the titles again, his head titling when he got to the ‘w’ section, his fingers pulling out a copy of ‘We Will Rock You’.

“Kilcreen musical society presents, We Will Rock You, April 2018.” He read out, looking at the picture of the cast on the front. There in the middle was Robyn, her blonde hair crimped and styled in two messy high pony tails, the rest of her hair streaked pink and purple around her shoulders. As he held the slim box in his hands, Taron knew what was going to keep him occupied for the morning. He left the chosen DVD on the coffee table and wandered into the bedroom. Again, his belongings were scattered around the place, the jeans he had taken off thrown on the bed, one converse at the door, the other under the television, the bed unmade as they both rushed to get ready to leave earlier.

He wandered into the closet and chuckled. He vaguely remembered it when Robyn showed him around her house when he first arrived and there was some sort of organisation to the closet but now clothes were strewn everywhere. To his right there was a railing and hung very nearly were what Taron assumed were Robyn’s work clothes, trousers and blouses, shirts and an odd skirt ready to be used for the working day. To his left a section just for shoes, Robyn not lying when she said she was converse girl at heart. She owned many a pair of many colours along with some winters boots and flip flops. He could see two pairs of heels as well. An unusual shoe, caught his eyes, buried under the flip flop and he reached into pull it out, some sort of tap show in his hand, but he didn’t look the ones he had seen his friend Jamie wear, as there was a silver buckle tied through the laces. Then it clicked with him. An Irish dancing shoe. Digging a little deeper he pulled put two soft leather shoes, with criss-crossed laces from toe to ankle. Definitely Irish dancing shoes.

“More secrets Robyn?” He said to himself. He was going to have to ask her about these when she was home.

He turned around and behind him were shelves and cubby holes with her t-shirts, jeans and his freshly cleaned clothes and though he was tempted to look in the drawers underneath the cubbies, he stayed away.

He already knew the ins and outs of the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom and over to the white make up table in the corner of the room with the large oval mirror. Only now did he notice the jar with make-up brushes and few make-up products scattered across the table, not that he really recognised many of them. He still had yet to see Robyn wear any make up, something she didn’t really seem too bothered about.

He stood at the glass doors, looking out into the bright sunshine of the morning, the garden one of his favourite parts of Robyn’s home. His flat in London had no garden and although his home in Aberystwyth had a small garden, a larger one in his mam’s house, it didn’t have the comfortable seating that Robyn’s had and as she had an Alexa set up almost everywhere in her apartment, music could be heard in every room, even the garden.

Taron moved away from the hot windows and back into the living room, picking up the DVD from where he left. He had seen Robyn set up the DVD and was sure he could work it out and once he realised there wasn’t actually a DVD player, it took him a good five minutes to figure out that the disc went in to the side of the television.

“Alexa Stop.”

Shaking his head, he took up his favourite spot in the corner of the couch and thankfully the musical loaded itself so he wasn’t posed with the challenge of getting it started. Legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, Taron smiled as the recognisable sound of Freddie Mercury filled the air of the room as the amateur musical started.

Taron realised he was in big trouble with his sing off with Robyn, when on the DVD she sang that first note to Somebody to Love, the third song in the musical, pitch perfect with no band behind her. He found his mouth open at the end of the song, absolutely taken back with the power behind his host’s voice. She made it look effortless and easy and when the duet of Under Pressure started with the character Galileo, Taron was wondering what else he could offer her instead of a sing off.

He thoroughly enjoyed the production Robyn’s home town had put on, the whole cast nailing their roles perfectly, and found himself singing along quite a few times along the way. As the cast took their bows, he got to his feet and headed back to the DVD’s. If Robyn had one production she had been in, he was curious to see if there were more. He grinned as he pulled out Les Misérables and Into the Woods along with Hairspray and Jesus Christ Superstar.

He took out We Will Rock You from the television and slipped Les Misérables into the slot, the DVD loading itself. He walked into the kitchen and made another cup of coffee and as it brewed, carefully pulled his shirt back on, the air condition making the room a little too chilly. After adding two sugar cubes to his coffee, he carried it back to the couch and got comfortable again, the familiar music filling his ears.

Completely different to the comedic role of Scaramouche, Epionine was emotional and heartbroken and he was sure Robyn’s tears were real as she got to the pivotal moment in On My Own. He was again immediately impressed with the production and as the music for the second act began, his phone rang. He balanced his second cup of half-drunk coffee on the couch, but changed his mind and left it on the table and walked into the bedroom and routed through his jeans to his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Hey mam.”

“Taron, love. How are you?”

“I am good mam.”

“That’s what you always say and I have to get the truth from Robyn.”

Taron chuckled. “I am currently chilling on Robyn’s couch, drinking coffee in the air conditioning while watching Robyn on the TV in her musical societies production of Les Misérables. I am good Mam.”

“Taking your pain killers?”

“Yes.”

“Sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Eating?”

“Yes.”

“Sorted out your filming schedule?”

“Yep. Matthew rang me the other day. I will be back in New York at the start of November.”

“Taron, Christmas?”

“Don’t worry. I have the time off for Christmas at home and New Year’s too.”

“And how is Robyn?”

“She is doing really good. Gone to some really important meeting today for her work to help get funding to upgrade their garden.”

“And you will be coming home to me when?” Tina rapid fired the question’s Taron’s way but she heard her son sigh on the end of the phone. “Taron love, you do not have to explain anything to me. I am still desperate for that hug but I can hear such a change in your voice. You sound so much happier and more relaxed and I know Robyn is taking really good care of you.”

“She is.”

“And you better be taking care of her too Taron.”

“I am mam and I will be home.”

“When you are ready love. Not before.”

The conversation between mother and son continued for half an hour, another fifteen minutes with his sisters before Taron was able to start the musical again. He found himself wiping a lone tear from his eye as Eiponine and Marius had their last moment together, Taron completely engrossed in the show.

When the DVD finished, Taron’s stomach rumbled. Looking to his phone he saw it was well past three in the afternoon. Bringing his cup with him, he washed it out and added it to the mounting dishes on the sink. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster and took a plate from the press, a knife from the drawer and left them ready to use. He started to think about what he could make for them for dinner, Robyn not getting in until late that evening and knowing she was working through her lunch break today, she was bound to be hungry. He dried the dishes on the sink and packed them away while he waited for his toast, still thinking about dinner. The toast popped and he buttered it.

“That is the best butter in the world.” Robyn’s voice came to him. “It’s Kerrygold. Best butter ever.”

He smiled as he took a bite of the warm toast, the light snack hitting the spot perfectly. He was sure he had seen some sort of chicken in her freezer when he was routing the other day and once he had finished his toast, routed in the drawer and pulled out two plain chicken pieces and left them on a clean plate to start defrosting. He knew Robyn had some mozzarella in her fridge too.

“And potatoes.” He smiled. With dinner sorted in his mind, Taron moved back to the television and switched the DVD’s out, Hairspray his choice this time, needing something a little lighter, Robyn’s name cast as Amber Von Tussle. He felt extremely honoured and proud to be able to watch these DVD’s of Kilcreen’s past musicals from the last ten years, watching as the performances went from strength to strength, seeing a much younger Robyn in Hairspray. He stretched to reach for the DVD box, cringing as he stretched a little too far and looked at the year.

“Two thousand and eleven.”

Doing some calculations, Taron’s eyes looked to the screen to see a twenty-two-year-old Robyn, in what was probably her first lead role on stage. Just as he had to learn and grow with each movie he took on, so did Robyn and she had only bloomed in her stage presence and confidence. Taron thought he should have looked at the years on the DVD boxes before he started, working his way forward rather than backwards but it was nice to watch a younger Robyn, feeling it fair as she could easily watch the first Kingsman movie.

At five thirty Taron moved from his spot, a long yawn leaving his lips as he gently stretched, before making his way to the bathroom. Even though he had been by himself, he felt like Robyn had been with him the whole time as he watched her perform on stage.

Strolling back into the kitchen, he made a start on some food for them, defrosting the chicken in the microwave for a few minutes before he stuffed it with the cheese and rashers he had found in the fridge. He chopped up some potatoes into little cubes and flavouring them with some garlic and chilli, adding various vegetables to the roasting tin too, putting both the chicken and sides into the oven baking away at a low temperature.

He resumed the musical, sinking into the couch again curling his legs under him his time, worried that if he got too comfortable he would sleep and burn dinner, already feeling tired after lazing around all day.

He was putting two plates into the oven an hour later to warm them up, ready to serve dinner when Robyn arrived home.

“Hey Taron.” She called as she closed the front door.

“Hello, chicken!” Called Taron back, laughing when he heard her groan his name from the bedroom where she went to first once she was inside. “You hungry Robyn?” Taron turned to look for her when she didn’t reply, moving to the bedroom looking for her, walking back out to the kitchen when she wasn’t here.

“Robyn?”

“On the couch.” She replied.

Taron walked around the side of the couch and found her laying on her back, her pony tail hanging off the edge, still dressed in her blue trousers and white top now untucked from the waistband of her pants suit and she had taken her shoes off, the reason why he hadn’t heard her come back from the bedroom.

“Robyn? You ok?” He asked concerned at seeing her laying on her back, eyes closed, her left leg bent at the knee, her hands resting low on her stomach under her top, the tiniest silver of skin noticeable in the gap between her top and trousers.

“Yep I am good.”

“Are you sure?” Asked Taron as he sat on the poof beside the couch, moving it down so he was sitting opposite her side. She turned her head to look at him, those same green eyes now staring at her that had been a constant distraction for her all day. “You really don’t look like someone who had had a good day.”

“I got the funding.” She answered. “And…” She began as Taron started to congratulate her. “Valerie handed in her notice today. She leaves on Friday and…” She lifted her left hand to stop Taron from speaking. “I already have interviewed her replacement and she starts tomorrow to be trained in.”

She put her hand back down and turned away from Taron moving a little bit finding a comfortable position again.

“For someone who has had such an accomplished day, you don’t give off the happiness vibes.” Taron watched as Robyn moved again, her eyes creasing a little as she did so. “Congratulations by the way with the funding. I knew that pants suit would get you what you wanted.”

Robyn laughed gently. “Yep it was all the pants suit. Nothing to do with my years of experience, expertise and wonderful way with words.”

Taron chuckled along with her but his hand went to hers on top of her stomach, when she winced again. “Robyn seriously, what is wrong? I don’t think I have seen you sit this still by your own accord since I have met you.”

“So, you know that thing that happens to a woman once a month?” She turned to look at him, his face changing from understanding to sympathy, his hand gripping hers a little tighter. “Not something I am normally bothered by, but I think because I have been on the go for the last two weeks, sleep deprived and run down, my body just hates me at the moment.” She moved again on the couch, her left leg laying down, her right one bending. “I am just going to crash here for a few minutes.” She moved Taron’s hand up a little so her right hand was free to rub her lower stomach a little, his now resting on her rib cage. “It has been a day and half but a very good day all round.”

“Ahh shit Robyn. What I can do for you?” Asked Taron.

“Nothing at all. I just need fifteen minutes or so to lay here and do nothing and then I shall be right as rein.”

“Robyn surely there is something I can get for you?” He asked again, his previous experience of what Robyn was going through had him routing for heat pads, hot water bottles and chocolate, lots of chocolate.

“Taron, honestly, I am going to lay here with my eyes closed for a while. That’s all I need.” She could feel his thumb gently rubbing her side through her top. “I am so low maintenance, Taron, I don’t need anything but some time to sit still. I haven’t stopped all day. I promise.” She could see worry fixed in his eyes and his lips were turned down as a frown filled his features, the bruising on his face making him look even more worried. She lifted her right hand to his left cheek. “You are sweet for wanting to help but I doubly promise.” She took her hand away from his face and placed it back on her stomach under her top.

Taron was at a loss. He was used to being ordered around at times like this but Robyn was so different, happy to just have him sit beside her. He tried to think of something he could do for her.

“Give me two seconds.” He lifted his hand from her and standing up, walked into the kitchen and turned the oven down to the lowest setting, so the dinner he had made would finish cooking very slowly. He then walked back over the couch and stood at the edge. “Will you sit up for a minute?” He asked her, looking down to her while she opened her eyes to look up.

“Huh?”

“Can you sit up for me for a minute.”

“Taron I really just want to lay here for a little while.”

“I know that. You can still lay there but trust me.” Robyn winced as another small nuisance cramp bothered her but did as Taron asked, sitting up. She felt the couch sink a little as Taron sat down behind her. “Ok now lay back.” Taron picked up one of the softer of Robyn’s blue cushions and placed it on his lap, guided Robyn down so her head lay on it, her whole upper back, neck and head supported by his legs. “Now you can keep laying still.”

“Taron what…”

“Hey Alexa play Ludo Euvi…”

“Hey Alexa, play Ludovico Einaudi.” Corrected Robyn, smiling up to Taron as he tried his best to play her favourite piano music.

“Yeah it’s going to take me a long time to learn how to say that name. Now lay back, close your eyes and relax. Take your fifteen minutes or however long you need.”

Doing as Taron asked, Robyn relaxed right back into him, another sore twinge making her twist her hips a little until it passed. She absolutely knew this was her bodies way of creating payback for her for putting it through hell the last few days. Normally Robyn never experienced a rough of a time as she felt now when a woman had to go through that monthly period but her insides were churning with misery. Her day had been full of every possible positive outcome, everything falling into place until she was back in her office late afternoon and the torment started. She was so happy to get home to her couch, and just wade out the wave of grief but Taron had insisted on making her more comfortable and attempted to play music he knew she loved.

“Do you want to pull out your pony tail Robyn?” He asked. “Can’t be comfortable on the back of your head.”

“Yeah of course.” She lifted her head a little from the cushion and moved her hands to her head but Taron got there first and she felt him press the clip of her pearl and diamond slide open and gently fluff her hair out so it wasn’t tied up any more, before his hand dipped to the back of her neck gently kneading warm skin that his fingers touched. It felt wonderful for her hair to be free from the pony tail but even more so what Taron was gently doing as he applied light pressure to the base of her skull.

“Lay back down.” He instructed to her, Robyn doing as she was asked, her hands now resting on the waistband of her trousers. Taron placed his right hand on top of Robyn’s, his left on the crown of her head, fingers manipulating through her hair, making sure he kept the weight of the movements light. He moved to brush her hair away from her face, long strands sliding through his fingers, before coming back to her left temple and he softly ran his index and middle finger in circles on her skin, his strokes moving over her forehead back down to her left cheek. He immediately saw Robyn relax under his touch, and repeated the light caresses over and over, running his hand through her hair in between his attention to her face. At one point he left a feather light trail down her nose, just as he did when he was trying to get Robyn back to sleep and when she didn’t recoil with the new source of affection, Taron did it again, sure he felt her move her face the slightest bit closer to his hand. He swept his fingers down her nose again. “Have I told you that I like your freckles?” He said as he brushed her nose once more.

Robyn’s lips grew into a smile. “You might have mentioned it.” Keeping her eyes closed she tried to hide the delightful shiver that ran from the back of her neck and down her spine as once again Taron, almost lovingly scratched her head so wonderfully. She turned her right hand over and linked her fingers with his, the back of his hand now resting on her stomach.

Taron left hand now kindly ran across the top of her left shoulder. “Lots of freckles.”

Robyn grinned. “Kisses from the sun.” She opened her eyes and looked up to him, his green eyes warm. “It’s what I tell the children freckles are.”

“Kisses from the sun. Well the sun must really like you.” Laughed Taron as he tapped the tip of fingers on each one on her shoulder.

“They only come out in the sun Taron and as I have been in Florida for six months, there are quite a few.”

“I like them.” He said again. “Do you feel a little better now?” He asked, his left hand running through her hair again, before he stopped.

“Hmm give me five more minutes and I will let you know. Hair. Please.” She answered him using the exact same words he had when she was scratching his head. She felt his body move as he laughed but doing as she asked, Taron fingers resumed their light kneading. It was a perfect distraction from her insides as were still giving her a beating. Taron’s hand was cool on her warm skin as they linked fingers and she pulled their joined hands up a little so they were resting further up on her ribs rather than her stomach, the weight just a little uncomfortable for her at the moment.

“Robyn?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that your scar from your appendix?” Taron had watched as she moved their hands, revealing more skin to him and as he watched golden skin become more exposed, part of it was tarnished with a long thin scar which travelled under the waistband of her trousers.

“Pretty eh?” She felt Taron freeze under her and opening her eyes, she looked up to him. “Taron?”

“That’s what Frankie called you. Pretty.”

“Ah shit Taron, I didn’t even think. Wrong choice of word.” She lifted their linked hands and placed a quick kiss on the back of his.

“It’s ok. Just another memory I would rather forget.” He looked down to her, blue eyes staring up at him. “Nice scar though.”

“Yep another one to add to my ever-growing collection but it tells a story and you know I love to tell a good story.”

Taron found himself smiling as his left hand started to trace over her forehead again. “So, any better now?”

“You owe me two more minutes of hair playing.” Robyn snuggled a little into the cushion. “Then I will think about doing something more productive.”

“Our dinner is going to be ruined.” He commented.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah dinner Robyn. I made us some food.”

“You did?”

“Yeah I did. I knew you worked through your lunch break and had a lot of pressure on you today so I thought the least I could do was pull something together for us.” Taron scratched her head again. “And I had a very interesting day.”

“Doing what?”

“Snooping.” He answered tapping her nose, her lips lifting in a brilliant smile. “So, I have three questions for you.” Taron continued to play with her hair as he spoke. “One, do you Irish dance? Two, do you have an instant camera and if so, can we take a photo for your wall and three, Bohemian Rhapsody? You traitor!”

Robyn found herself laughing again. “First off that was four questions, not three. One, as a kid, yes Irish dancing but not anymore. Not for years and I just kept the shoes ‘cos we use them in work to show the kids. Two, yes I have an instant camera. Three of course we can take a picture for my wall and four, you know I adore Queen.”

“I also have another suggestion for our karaoke off.”

“Ok...”

“So maybe I could invite you to a movie premier or something instead.”

Robyn let go of his hand and sat up fast, Taron’s hand falling through her hair and turned so she could look directly at him, kneeling beside his legs. “You backing out Egerton? What else have you been snooping through?” She asked grinning widely at him.

“So, I might have found your DVD’s of the performances you were in with the musical society.”

Robyn grinned some more. “You afraid Taron that little old me might beat you in the sing off?”

“Yes. I know you will and can!” He turned so he could look at her. “So, want to take up my offer of attending a movie premier instead?”

“Absolutely not. I made that deal, which we shook on by the way, because I wanted to hear you sing, not because I wanted to win. I wanted to hear you sing because you have a beautiful voice.” She watched as he looked down at his hands. “Don’t even act shy about Taron. You practically sang Elton’s whole catalogue and you know you can sing and I have no interest in movie premiers. I would much rather sing a song with you. If you want, I will hold back when we eventually have our sing off. I will go easy on you!”

“Somehow I don’t think you will.”

“Probably not.” Robyn loved how she could make him blush. “Thanks Taron. Now I feel better.”

“Of course you do.” He replied sarcastically but his scowl didn’t last long as Robyn placed a kiss on his right cheek and it was so light, it didn’t even sting his sore skin.

“I am going to have a quick two-minute shower.” She stood up, still feeling a little achy but her mood had definitely been lifted and Taron’s thoughtful actions had helped a lot.

“You sure I can’t get you anything Robyn?”

“You have already done loads Taron. After dinner, we can take those instant photos. I have the camera but I have the instax printer too so we have the best of both worlds. We can take a picture on a phone and print it out.”

Taron’s eyes followed her as she walked around the couch and into the bedroom, letting a breath he didn’t know he was holding. What he did know was that every moment he got to spend with Robyn the more he wanted to spend with her. Robyn was so different, independent and strong but also had this softer side that she was slowly sharing with him.

He eased himself up from the couch and heard the shower going in the bathroom as he walked into the kitchen. He picked up a tea-towel and carefully took the plates from the top oven which had been heating and placed them on the island. Opening the main oven door, he took out the large dish with the chicken, potatoes and vegetables and placed it on the heat protector Robyn had so it wouldn’t burn the countertop. Pulling a large spoon from the jug behind the hob, he began to dish the dinner out onto the plates. Opening the fridge, he took out the bottle of iced tea he knew Robyn liked and filled two glasses with it. He set the breakfast bar up with the plates, two glasses and cutlery when Robyn walked out of the bedroom, in a black pair of shorts and long-sleeved blue top.

“That was a quick two minutes.”

“Told you I would be.” She walked past him and pulled open the drawer beside the cutlery one, taking out a packet of paracetamol and popped two out.

“I could have gotten those for you Robyn.” He said.

“Yeah I know but I am just used to doing all these things for myself.” She walked back over to him. “This looks delicious. Again, I commend you cooking skills Taron.”

“So maybe can I cook you a three-course meal instead of having a sing off?”

“Uh-uh.” She took a drink from one of the glasses. “Nope.”

“Yeah didn’t think so.” He took a seat on one of the stools

“Plus, I am the baking queen of this developing relationship.” Robyn took the seat beside him.

“Three course meal out. I shall keep thinking.” Taron was ready to change the subject of their conversation. “So, you got the funding and a new staff member in one day?” He asked.

“Valerie has gotten a new job as a personal assistant for manager for some company in Dublin. Best career change for her. She can potter around pretending she is a big shot in her high heels, shorts skirts and sun glasses.”

“Meow!”

Robyn laughed. “She just doesn’t have the passion to work with children. You need to have a certain temperament and personality and she just wasn’t suited to the job. I get to have her exit meeting on Friday.”

“An exit meeting?”

“Hmm where you get to talk to the employee about their work and experience with the company.”

“You are going to slaughter her, aren’t you?”

“As much as I would love too, I won’t. I still haven’t forgiven her for what she said about you and me in the office but no, I will be very nice and Emma will be there as well because to be fair, I have only known her a week.”

“I don’t think I will ever do anything that will piss you off Robyn. I don’t want an exit meeting”

Robyn grinned. “I have a feeling we won’t ever need an exit meeting Taron. We are going to be in each other’s company for a very long time.”

[szopenhauer]

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? yes

Are you in a good mood right now? r u serious?...

Is there anyone who you think you deserve an apology from? I won’t get any

Are you talking to anyone right now? my gf online and my mom irl

Did you buy anything today? I didn’t

Were you happy when you woke up this morning? I wasn’t

When was the last time you cried really hard? today, it wasn’t the hardest tho

When did you last hug someone? Who was it? this day as well, parent

How’s life going for you? no comment

Has something someone said today annoyed you? that’s normal Can you hear the crickets chirping at night? sadly not Do you like listening to new music, or just sticking to your favorites? depends on the new song - if it’s good then I like it as much as my old favs

When was the last time you were bitten by a bug? this summer has the worst mosquitos ever Do you have a pair of sunglasses that are worth over $200? I'm not rich, mine aren’t more expensive than 25 PLN  Are you brave when it comes to trying new foods? ...  When was the last time you saw your significant other? weeks ago, not counting video chatting Are you ashamed of your singing voice? I’m aware I have no talent so... Have you ever had a dream where you could understand a foreign language? also animal languages and been talking to plants etc. Do you have anything important to do tomorrow? hospital Are you a fan of retro things? prefer vintage, antiques, shabby - retro is fake but at times there are some good enough pieces as well  Would you be considered to be knowledgeable about World War 2? I mistake WWI for WWII and vice versa If you’re with someone right now, do you think it will last? don’t feed my paranoia Have you heard of the Irish actor Jonathan Rhys Meyers? oooh that’s the one Do you have something to do, that you would rather not do? tomorrow Are you, in any way, feeling hopeless right now? absolutely Do you know who you’re planning to ask to your prom? I wanted to ask my current gf back in the day but my mom didn’t let me and I didn’t go because only me and K. didn’t have a date so we preffered to stay home When was the last time you went shopping? yesterday What’s the limit on how much you would pay for a shirt? 60 PLN but I cry when I pay 30 PLN, luckily I have like 3 shirts that are about 30 PLN Do you like making funny faces in pictures? better to be funny than ugly, right? Is there something you look back on and go “I can’t believe I did that”? regrets Are you good at offering advice? but not following them  What was the last thing to confuse you? confused is my second name  Are you a fan of Keira Knightley? she’s not that good Have you ever resorted to alcohol to make you feel better? it doesn’t make anything better Have you heard about Mel Gibson’s rant/freakout? he was such a good actor, such a shame he’s not a good person  Do you wish your bedroom was bigger? I wish I had my own apartment Have you ever felt like a “new person”? I had my moments that were ruined right after  Do you own any expensive jewelry? I sold the only necklace that was worth something  Has there been someone in your life that just wouldn’t leave you alone? stalkers Do you hate to use public bathrooms? there are way worse things than public bathrooms, even when they’re covered in blood, poop, pee and vomit (but puke is least bearable from all four)

Are there any writing utensils close to you? I packed bunch of them 

What was the last thing that shocked you? brain, remind me what was last... How many other rooms can you currently see into? hall Do you need to take the trash out? done Do you need to clean your room right now? soon Do you need to clean out a litter box right now? my cat’s gone Are these questions reminding you of things you put off to do this survey? there’s washing my head on my list for this evening - nothing more  How many days have you been wearing those clothes? gimme a break!

Can you move your nose? yasss

Have you ever done a craft that you found on Pinterest? sew teddy and a cat from socks for example but I’m not fond of DIY in general Are you content with mystery, or do you wish you knew everything? knowledge is power

What’s one thing that makes your stomach hurt? what doesn’t?... Ever had a living nightmare? my life is a nightmare

Do you think successful people always come with a pack of haters? successful or not - haters are everywhere Do you wish you could be a world traveler? travelling ain’t my hobby Do you wish you could live in another city for a year? Ełk If you had kids, would you take them to Disney World? if I had money and they wanted to go and it wasn’t that far away from home and they were angels and they were old enough... Have you ever stood in line to get a Disney character’s autograph? wouldn’t bother, pics are better How long does it usually take your hair to dry?  so short yet dry slowly Is your Pinterest page cluttered? it’s neat Did you used to name your Barbies? of course Is your life boring? ppl say it is but for me it’s not enough boring if you know what I mean Do you usually feel better around people or alone? alone Is there a broken relationship in your life that you want to fix? tried to fix friendships but it didn’t work out  Do you ever think about Heaven? yup Are you ready for Heaven yet? I will go to hell but I don’t mind dying now if it’s a quick death as I prefer to be gone that an ill burden to myself and others Are you afraid of where you’re going to go? I don’t deserve heaven, I think it would be unfair for me to go wherever, I have love-hate relationship with God Do you feel better now than you did last night? noooo Does your body have any problems with it? my body is 99,99% a problem, it’s made of problems like jigsaw puzzle game Have you taken any huge risks lately? my life is 24/7 at risk - does that count?... Silence or songs? depends  Do you ignore rude people or do you call them out? try to ignore them if possible What color socks do you have on? purple stripes, looks a bit like asexual flag - this realization :o Are you under a blanket right now? am not

How much was your prom dress? What’s the most you’d spend?: I wouldn’t buy anything expensive, dress from a second hand under 30 PLN Are most of your friends single or taken?: my friends were basically always single When you’re taking a survey that has a “Which of your friends is… the nicest? The prettiest? The smartest? Etc.” do you skip over it?: as I have no friends anymore to be honest What salon do you go to for getting your hair done?: I cut them on my own or ask mom for help Do you believe in luck?: I’m unlucky Would you marry someone of a different religion?: that would be hard  Would you convert for them?: nope Worst part about your job?: I don’t have a job and the worst part about it is lack of money and regular UP visits Ever took something out of the lost and found that wasn’t yours?: they tempt me I took some lost/trashed stuff from the street tho Do you delete friends from Facebook if they never talk to you?: that’s me! Do you know anyone who smokes cigars?: my uncle did Ugliest fashion trend at the moment?: according to this - shorts suit, cut outs, sheer/transparent, raffia not a fan of most of vests blue isn’t my fav color but it’s a seasonal thing but shirts shouldn’t be such a huge part of summer in my opinion Do you like glittery nail polishes?: why not

Are you wearing a pink shirt? it’s white with black letters

If you had a baby, would you want to have it at home or in a hospital? hospital I believe

Have you ever had a bad experience with anti-depressants? If so, what? don’t even let me begin this subject...

What makes your room unique? trinkets

Does your past bother you? consequences of it

Do you take risks or play it safe? play it safe and yet...

Are you afraid of running into a certain person in public? more than one person, more than one reason

Do you live in the USA? Poland

Who do you want to meet in Heaven? from those who already died? my brother

Is it raining? slightly

Is your life stressful and exhausting? to me it is too stressful and exhausting 

What is your favorite time of the day? when I sleep, if I sleep that is 

Have you ever known anyone that’s gone missing? nope Do you put your foundation on with a sponge or your hand? I don’t use foundation, yuk Do you have to pee often? ppl told me that I pee often Do you live near a pet store? they closed pet store in my town

Who was the last person other than family to tell you that they love you? my gf How many people have you kissed in the last month? 1 Do you know anyone who writes really well? my gf writes well Does it bug you when people spell color “colour”? not spell but write, it sounds good in British accent but looks horrible on paper

What is the best fanfic you have ever read (lmao) only fanfic I remember reading was that one E.W. and K.K. sent me about Draco and Harry (yaoi)

If you could direct your own TV show/movie, what would it be like? it would be based on my book

One thing you’ve always wished you could do / be good at? be healthy

Post a picture of the weirdest/funniest text conversation you’ve ever had! can’t choose only one, also, sadly,  I don’t have screenies of some of them 

Is there a stranger you would like to meet again? for example - I’d like to see all those ppl that I thought have amazing fashion sense and ask them if I can take photos then I would make a blog about it

Does your school take sports too seriously? all schools do, that’s unfair What does the sound you currently hear remind you of? it’s quiet

Did you eat out anywhere today? nah Where is your purse? my purses are in various places around my room

[the-kingofsnakes]

Chapter 2: The Oruwin's Nest

Part II: Harry POV

Harry's eyes widened as he peered at the box in the professor's hand. It was small, whatever it was but it was also his mother's so he knew that he would cherish it forever.

"Can I open it?" Harry whispered out.

He didn't mean for his voice to be so soft but he was already on edge from the previous events and English really did sound awful coming out of his mouth. It always felt like his mouth was full of chalk dust when he spoke it and he had to work around how a snake would think and speak versus a person. He couldn't help the small gasp that he involuntarily let out when the professor smiled at him slightly and gave him the box. Harry ripped at the wrapping paper and let it fall to the floor as he tore open the box to reveal a silver ring with two interlocking hoops on the top that looked like arms linked together. 

"The knot on it is an iteration of the true love knot. I have a similar one with an eternity knot on it instead on a necklace I constantly wear. I made them myself just before we graduated from Hogwarts and we used them as friendship rings. I thought that you would enjoy having something she used to wear for your birthday."

Harry could only nod his head in agreement as he took the ring out of the box. He had never gotten a real gift before much less anything that had to do with his mother. He wasn't allowed to ask questions about her at the Dursleys unless he wanted to get hit with something. His aunt and Uncle viewed his mother's name as the foulest curse word imaginable to the point that even the flower wasn't allowed anywhere near the house. He started to place the ring on his right thumb only realize the small metal probably would fall right off when he changed into a snake.

"Could you… maybe make it bigger? So that it's a bracelet instead of a ring or would that be wrong?"

"Why do you wish for that?"

"Well, it's just that when I were to eventually turn into a snake then the ring would probably fall off because it's so small but if you could turn it into a bracelet then it would maybe fit in both of my forms. ...I think."

"Very well then. Since it was made with magic it is possible." 

Harry watched in awe as the small ring got thicker and grew so that it was a small bracelet just as he wanted instead of a ring. He wiggled it onto his arm before it was done and found that it stopped growing once it was around his wrist and actually shrunk down a bit so that it fit nicely against his skin.

"Awesome." Dudley whispered out from beside him.

Harry felt the sentiment entirely but could only grin at his new present as Snape explained that since it was magic and was now his then he was the only one who could remove it. He had made them with that aspect in mind in case they got stolen and while originally they were intended for just he and Lily he had changed her ring to be able to store a bit of Harry's magic inside of it so that he would be its new owner instead of her. 

"We should be off soon. I believe it's time for you to gather your things now as we still have a long day ahead."

The boys did as they were told and went to gather their belongings only to find that they had none. Dudley suggested that his parents had probably stashed their clothes, other than their pajamas, in with their own this morning when they were packing. Neither boys noticed Snape frowning as they came back from the bathroom with only their pajamas. 

"Is that.. all that you have?" 

"Apparently." The boys say in unison.

"I see. Then our first stop shall be to get Mr. Dursley a locket."

"A locket sir?" Dudley asked hesitantly. Harry wasn't sure why Dudley needed a locket but he knew not to question adults to closely.

Professor Snape seemed to not feel that Dudley needed a reply as he just walked out of the cabin and left the boys to follow. Harry shrugged when Dudley looked at him like the man was crazy but they decided to follow him outside anyway as they clutched their pajamas in their arms. They arrived outside only to find the odd professor holding his right hand out with a long stick in it, like he was trying to hail a taxi.

"What'sss the stick for?" Harry whispered to his cousin as they got closer. The leaves crunched under their feet as they made their way to the man.

"Your guesss is asss good as mine at thisss point." 

"For the record Mr. Potter," Harry straightened up as stiff as a board, "I do not mind if you speak in parseltongue so long as your cousin is willing to translate if you are trying to ask me something." Snape said without turning around.

"Th- Thank you sir."

"Um, what's the stick for Professor?" Dudley asked once they got next to him.

"Hm? Ah. My apologies, this is my wand. I'm trying to hail the knight bus so that it can take us to diagon alley."

"Did he just say diagonally?"

"No. Diagon alley. It'sss two words I think."

"What? Is there a reverse lane and sideways avenue as well?"

"I don't know! Why don't you ask him?" Dudley snapped impatiently at him.

Harry decided he was going to do just that when the biggest bus he had ever seen pulled up in front of them in a flurry. At least he was pretty sure it was a bus. The thing was dark purple and looked more like a van if it hadn't been for the two stacks of windows encased in metal that protruded off the top of the van base. It looked more like a backwards camper if you asked him. The bus opened its door to reveal a short white haired man with big round glasses on his face who turned and greeted them all with a smile. Harry thought he very much resembled a small owl when he did so.

"Why hello there! How many for the bus? Three? That'll be one gallon and thirteen sickles then!" The owl man said to Snape in quick succession.

Snape gave the man what looked to be coins and went straight onto the bus without so much as glancing back at them. They followed closely behind him this time and stared at the floating seats as they walked by. 

"No luggage?" A tall brown haired man asked them as they passed on their way down the aisle. He had on a uniform similar to the driver with black slacks and a black vest and shirt combination with a bus hat on his head.

"No Stan. Now leave us be and let Ernie know we're headed to diagon alley please. I'd prefer to stop at Madame Elaine's Treasure Trove if possible."

"Righto Professor Snape!" The man replied quickly and tilted his hat at them as he walked away.

Snape sat down on one of the floating seats and eyed them expectedly making the children squirm a bit before they followed his lead once more. No words were spoken between them as the bus started moving. An announcement came on from the driver that they should buckle up before they really got going. The three of them did as they were told as they looked down to see seat belt attachments now next to them. Harry had just buckled his in when the bus jerked forward. The strap did nothing to keep him in his seat due to his small size as he went flying through the air. Midway through his ascent panic took over his senses as he changed into a dark red leaf viper and landed in a pile of suitcases that had fallen off of the overhead rack.

He heard Dudley and the Professor shout for him as the bus jerked once more. Harry burrowed himself under the suitcases and tried not to get squished. Eventually the bus stopped and the suitcases were moved around him to reveal a very concerned Dudley and Professor Snape. Harry slithered out of his spot rather slowly and changed back to human with a dazed expression on his face. He was pretty sure he heard Dudley ask if he was alright but the vibrations in his jaw were still translating sounds for him that humans wouldn't normally worry about.

Going from snake to human when he was trying to hear something was always strange. Sometimes he missed entire words that were spoken and other times he just had to take a few seconds to reply. He found that his hearing was relatively the same in both forms for some reason: vibrations were sent to his jaw and then he could somehow make sense of them. Sometimes he could translate rather loud vibrations and other times he could only translate normal ones depending on the snake he chose to be. 

Once they were off the bus and said their goodbyes Harry went back to holding onto the seam of Dudley's shirt once more as a safety net. Snape led them through the odd traffic of the crowded alley and Harry ignored the strange stares and whispers about him as his jaw vibrated slightly with the sound currents. He led them into a shop that looked oddly enough like an open treasure chest that said Madame Elaine's Treasure Trove on the sign above the old door. 

Madame Elaine, or who Harry had assumed was her, looked a lot like Dudley's Aunt Marge if she were as thin as a toothpick. Her attitude however was the complete opposite of the woman as she smiled kindly at Harry and didn't comment on his unruly hair. The shop itself looked like a big antique store with baubles and trinkets everywhere. Harry swore he saw a necklace move by itself even though he knew it was impossible. Maybe he really did need glasses?

"Verus! It's so good to see you again!" The woman yelled from behind the counter.

"Verusss?" Dudley asked in a hushed tone.

"Nickname?" Harry supplied while cautiously eyeing the woman behind the counter.

"I was wondering if you had a locket and a booth currently available Elaine?"

"Oh of course! Anything I should know about?"

"Not really, just a reducio and engorgio charm combination, an extension charm and some atmospheric charms for the inside."

"You are aware that you'll have to catalogue the extension charm correct?"

"I was hoping you could make an exception as it isn't for me."

"Oh? You don't normally give out presents. Who's it for then? If you give me a good reason I'll keep it off the books."

Snape turned towards them at them and eyed them expectedly. Harry wasn't sure if they were supposed to leave or explain that the locket was for Dudley for some reason. He didn't have time to ask before Dudley was pulling him along to go peruse the shop, who had apparently picked up on the social cues that the professor was trying to impress upon them before he could. His cousin drug him all the way to the back of the store to look around without so much as a second glance. There was even more weird stuff in the back like jewelry boxes that glowed and metal eyes on locks that followed you. 

The cousins eventually went their separate ways to explore the shop while the adults talked. Harry had every intention of looking at all the small shiny things. He truly did, until he heard squeaking behind a rather old looking bookcase. He followed the squeaking vigorously passed old grandfather clocks, through rows of strange globes, and even under a table until he finally cornered the mousey morsel. All of his instincts were telling him that he was hungry, the mouse was food, it's fresh. While the human part of his brain was screaming at him that was not proper behavior for a boy to do. That mice are not food when he's human but he's hungry. He hasn't eaten anything more than that bit of broccoli from yesterday. He didn't remember the last time he ate before that. He swiped up the snake with deft hands and raised it to his mouth, ignoring the fact that it was very much alive and covered in fur. He ignored the footsteps coming from around the corner as he lowered the squirming mouse. He faintly registered Dudley staring at him but couldn't make out the expression on his face. His only concern was the mouse in his hands and how fast it would take him to eat it.

"Harry look at- Harry no! Drop the mouse! Drop it! We will eat later. Now drop the mouse!" Dudley shouted.

Harry glared at his cousin for interrupting his impromptu meal and screamed when he was suddenly drenched in water. Harry reflexively dropped the mouse, ignoring the thud and subsequent scampering, and wiped his eyes of the water that he was somehow drenched in. Glancing up afterward to see a small storm cloud fading from atop his head.

"I'm not a stupid cat!" Harry said once he opened his eyes and saw the smirk on Dudley's face.

"You're right! You're a stupid snake!"

"You can stop now Umdri." Dudley replied in a low tone like he was talking to someone else.

Harry huffed as he thought about searching for the mouse again until a new noise caught his attention. Chattering that he could only describe as one similar to a chipmunk was speaking animatedly near him. Harry gawked at the scene before him as Dudley seemed to be speaking to an eight inch gremlin with blue skin and a red stripe on its head who was standing on his shoulder and holding onto his neck for support. It had big floppy ears on the sides of its head and two small black horns protruding from the top. Its eyes were a deep purple color and it had black sharp nails on each of its hands. Both its hands and feet seemed to have three digits with its feet looking similar to a bird's. The strangest thing about all of it had to be that both Harry and Dudley seemed to be able to understand the tiny creature.

"Glad to be of help Keeper Dudley!" 

"What is that thing and how did it get me soaked with water? Also how can we understand it?"

"Well first of all he's not an it he's a him and his name is Umdri. I'm not sure how you can understand him but I know I can because he bit me when I was trying to help him get away from another snake that's in here."

"Honestly Prince Harry, it's like you've never spoken to another magical being before! Didn't your Oma teach you anything?"

"Ugh, again with the Prince stuff! Did that snake tell you to call me that? How many times do I have to tell them that I'm not a prince for them to understand! Also I don't know what the hell an Oma is, so no!"

"Ah! Well then… that is odd. No matter, I shall explain as much as I can to you little princeling! I am what wizards call a Coco Rumsey Catcher. Although we prefer the term Oruwin. As for what you are little highness; you are a prince of snakes and when you grow big and strong you shall be a king of snakes!"

"King of snakes? How is that even possible? There's no such thing as a king of snakes."

"Well of course there is! There is only one creature known as the king of snakes Majesty! They are known by many names sire: the great hatcher of dragons, the protector of creatures, the golem sister's champion, the petrifier of wizards, the most hated of spiders! Why I am referring to none other than the great basilisk! That is what you truly are majesty! Most creatures bow to your decree, others hide in fear and the muggle snakes are your most faithful retainers. The wizarding world is where you truly belong and where you shall rule with your mate until your designated end as fate sees fit!"

"I'm not some great big snake king! I'm just Harry! Boring, ordinary Harry Potter who has dead parents!"

"Of course you are not a king yet majesty! You still need to grow up. In due time you will grow to be the king you were meant to be. Now, Keeper Dudley I wish to find a home that I can grow my precious seedlings in and preferably one that you may also call home if you so desire! Shall we go searching my Keeper?"

"Seedlings?" Harry asked his cousin. 

He didn't feel like trying to ask the Oruwin more things since he thought it would be a lost cause. 

"He takes care of flowers and other magical plants. He can do small elemental magic to help with their growth which is how he made the small storm cloud. He was trying to find a nice field to grow some plants in but then he got chased into here by that other snake. I helped him out and now he calls me Keeper. Said he wants to stay with me if possible but that his search for a nice field with a low chance of predators comes first."

Harry hummed at this new bit of information. His head felt like it was going to explode. Sure he was glad Dudley made a new friend and it made sense that said friend wanted to try to do what he was supposed to before he decided to stick with Dudley but his happiness was short lived and replaced with panic quite quickly. It was bad enough that every other snake he had ever come across had called him a prince or some variation of but now this tiny magical creature said he was supposed to be a king when he grew up? He barely knew anything about the wizarding world, Professor Snape hadn't exactly been helpful so far, and according to this new guy he was supposed to rule in it with a mate! 

No, no, absolutely not. He didn't want to be a king. He didn't even really know what a basilisk was but it didn't sound like anything good. He just wanted to get out of this shop, get the rest of his school supplies and wait out the rest of summer so that he could learn how to do magic at Hogwarts. In order to do that though he needed to find Snape. Now. He found him still chatting with the shopkeeper at the front desk and it seemed that the only thing had changed from when he left the man was that he now had a silver beehive pendant in front of him on the counter. He heard Dudley come up behind him and faintly registered Umdri chattering away from his perch. He paid them no mind as the Professor looked at them with a pleased expression only for it to turn into confusion seconds later.

"Mr. Dursley why exactly do you have a Coco Rumsey Catcher standing on your shoulder?"

"I saved him from a snake in here. He's trying to find a place to grow plants that doesn't have a lot of predators but he also wants to stay with me so it's a bit tricky."

"I see. I believe I have something for you that will assist you in both of these endeavors."

Snape grabbed the beehive and brought them into a medium sized room off to the side of the shop. He set the little pendant on the ground and the boys watched as the nest grew in size. It was silver in color and looked like it had just been plucked off a tree with a pointed top and a relatively flat bottom. The black truncated oval opening near the bottom that looked like it had been painted on was now big enough that they were able to step into it easily.

"How?" Harry asked with a breathless tone.

Snape quickly explained that the inside actually had another world he had created by using magic and that he intended for this place to be a safe space for the boys to go to if they needed, whether in the muggle or wizarding world.  

"I've put an altered enlarging charm on it so that it's easier for you to enter. Normally you would have to use your wands in order to use any magic however I've altered this spell so that once it comes in contact with this ring." He lifted his right hand to show them an ornate silver ring that had celtic markings on the sides with a diamond O in the middle that had the bottom lines extending from it a bit.

"Then you will be able to enter it without casting. The symbol is the ancient futhark rune Othala, which loosely means home." He said to them as he produced a similar ring to Dudley and gave a rectangular pendant version of the same color to Harry that he quickly fastened onto his bracelet.

"In its smaller form it I made it appear that the opening was painted on to not attract attention but in reality it's an open hole to a hollow nest. It will shrink back down in size once you are inside and will grow once more when you are ready to leave."

Before any of the three wizards could move the Oruwin jumped off of Dudley's shoulder and ran straight into the nest. Dudley called and ran after him only for Harry and Snape to follow closely behind. 

The inside of the nest was filled with plush green grass and blue skies. It even had a sun, trees, mountains and Harry could swear he smelled water coming from somewhere. Snape told them that there was a lake a few hundred feet away along with fruit bearing trees and vegetables growing in natural patches. He even added game such as rabbits, toads, deer and a few snakes and foxes for predators. If the animals got to be too much then they could discuss measures to tone them down but that the populations should stay relatively fine due to everything having a limited food and water source.

Once they looked around some more Dudley and Harry both expressed an interest in having some kind of shelter created in the new space and were soon kicked out by Umdri who said that he would be more than willing to assist them so long as they let him stay and tend to the grounds while they were on the outside. All three wizards agreed and soon exited the nest. Dudley picked up the pendant and put it on his neck after he grabbed its chain from Snape. Both thanked the professor for the extremely generous gift and thanked him even more when he explained that it was already paid for. Food was the only thoughts on their minds as Dudley recounted the event of Harry going after a mouse in his human form.

[severussnapedamagedlove]

The Lion and The Serpent, Hidden

WARNING: Swearing and some mature content. Explicit. 

“Tell me you’re joking,” he snarled. It was ice cold, as was his silver stare. “That’s who you’re bringing to the Yule Ball, whom you said I wouldn’t be concerned. Of all of them! Of all the ones to pick!”

Hidden away in the dark shadows of the Hogwarts grounds down near the Black Lake, a pair stood decidedly within the dense shrubbery. It was secluded enough. What with the sky turned black, pregnant clouds near to burst. Their secrecy led them into parts that no other student, on purpose, would stumble. If only one of them could keep his voice from rising any higher and louder for the entire school to hear.

Draco Malfoy couldn’t keep his cool. It was enough, just at his limit, to watch his girlfriend from afar as she swirled around the school with a throng of boys and friends, of which he did not belong, but that was his limit. If he felt a shred of her dignity was being given to another…

He shuddered.

His girlfriend crossed her arms. Her lips, puffy and pink, pulled tightly to a thin line.

           “You shouldn’t be concerned. He doesn’t even go to this school.”

           “That makes it alright, then? Alright for him to waltz you up and down the halls for everyone and their Professor to see!”

She tucked a bushy curl behind her ear. “Would you prefer it to be someone else then? Dean? Seamus? Justin Fletchly? Ernest Macmillion?”

That stopped Draco in his tracks. His anger over the conversation changed to a sudden jealousy over the list she gave so quickly.

He raised his finger. “So help me, Mione, if one of those oafs is asking you, I won’t be in control of my actions.”

           “Are you ever?” She spat.

There was a silence that came as the clouds finally gave way. Rain drops pattered against the broad leaves of the leaves down to the grass with large splats. Laps of the lake pushed roughly against the shore. A cool wind whistled through the trees. The density of the shrubbery left the pair mostly dry apart from a few spots where droplets dribbled through. One slid down Hermione’s back, and she shuddered with a small whimper.

Draco looked down as her. Her beautiful soft skin, a tinged blue.

He lifted his cloak off his shoulders and placed it overtop of her thin shirt. With the clarity of the weather’s intention, Draco cursed himself for letting her go out without a jumper. In truth, he’d been too damn excited to spend some time with her that he forgot much else.

Meetings of the pair were always heavily guarded secret. Not a single person knew. They kept themselves so far in line that it wouldn’t be believed anyway. It had been near a week since Draco was able to get alone with her and this was not what he’d had in mind. The little trinket he got just for her still sat in his back pocket.

Of course, the news of Viktor Krum was a shock. He was world famous Quidditch player, Best Seeker in the world, his own position, in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. All the girls who usually followed Draco around stalked Viktor everywhere as a gaggle of patsies and beauties all in a row for his picking.

How had he even had time to meet his Hermione?

           “At least I have the decency to make sure it isn’t someone you’ll see every day,” she mumbled.

Draco went rigid. That was new.

           “Pansy was your idea.” His voice was cooler still. “Don’t make her any more than she is. My means, to my end.”

Hermione pulled away. She felt her heart pounding now. It was so long she’d kept her jealousy inside. That was always better suited for Draco. It was his mission to remind her each time they were together just why they stayed so trapped in their own swirl of emotion, and yet as she saw him around the grounds or out in Hogsmeade, Pansy was there on his arm giggling in his ear. His ear. The very one that she loved to whimper into as they laid together. His ear. Not anyone else’s, but his. It was like a stab in the heart.

           “No, no. I didn’t say Pansy. I said someone. Anyone to help keep us being discovered. To lower any suspicion that might raise. You, Draco, were the one who latched onto Pansy like her knickers were a magnet.”

A little fire ignited in the light of his gray eye. It turned from hardened stone to a swirling hurricane. Draco grabbed hold of her shoulders and pushed her back, back, back until something stopped them altogether. She jolted against a tree trunk. His hands pressed firmer against her flesh as he put himself closer toward her, the body he longed to touch, grab in his hands and never let go.

Just the feeling of him pinning her against the tree, her tip toes barely touching the ground, coursed through her veins like flashes of cold fear. It was an insane pleasure as it tingled her toes, and other parts of her too.

Even in the wet rain and the dirt and leaves, Draco was put together as always. His hair was slicked. There were very few smudges against his tailored slacks. He’d let his tie fall from place. Slytherin green.

Draco brought his lips down close, pushing the hair from Hermione’s ear. “Is that what you think now?”

He smirked as one of his knees was placed between her thighs. “You think of me and Pansy like this, do you?”

One of his hands dropped from her shoulder and gently teased the cool metal of her zipper. He pressed it into the warm flesh of her belly. She gasped, just as he knew she would.

           “Draco, please…”

           “You know, Granger, this is an awfully thin shirt.” He glanced up overhead. “I don’t know if anyone will believe you’ve been caught in this rain.”

Her eyes widened. She kicked against the tree, a little.

           “That’s not fair.”

It was more of a whimper than a statement.

Draco took one of her breasts in his mouth and sucked, and though the taste of cotton wasn’t appetizing, the way he felt her writhe and fight with herself under his touch was delectable. His let himself drool, spreading the damp shadow over her nipple. It poked through, exposed by the wet and cold. He blew on it teasingly.

He glanced up at her tortured, pleading face. “Is this who you imagine it when it’s her and me? Alone in the fucking trees, with not a soul around to hear her screams.”

Hermione’s fire melted away as a few stray tears fell down her cheeks. Draco’s face fell immediately.

           “Mione?” Her head dipped down to her chest. “Hermione?”

She didn’t respond. Only sniffled.

Draco carefully lowered her feet back down to the ground, making sure not to snag her on a knob of bark. He watched from above as she kept her face turned away. Goosebumps instantly took hold of him.

           “Hermione, look at me,” he said.

She shook her head and croaked, “No.”

His arms gathered around her. Even as she swatted at them, there was no stopping him from bringing her against his chest as she heaved in sobs. Once they started, she couldn’t stop. There was so much this year. The Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry. The Dark Lord. Her classes. Draco.

If there was one thing she couldn’t worry about but couldn’t stop worrying about was him.

Fear laced with everything else was enough to cripple to most solid witches. Hermione felt that it was getting the better of her, and she couldn’t seek his comfort more than a few times a month. It was a part of herself she felt she was losing.

She sobbed harder at the thought of Draco going away. There was so much in her life that made her proud and deserved of all the places she worked for, but Draco was what kept her confident. She didn’t need to be liked by everyone. She didn’t need to feel insecure. She didn’t need to be ashamed of her accomplishments, nor the work she put into herself. Why? Just a bit off to the side was a man who cherished every bit of her.

But then, there was Pansy. She got the Draco in public for everyone to see. The one he picked for his cover story of being attached to a Pure Blood witch, not a Muggleborn like Hermione. It was all so important for their safety. Mostly for his.

Things would happen if Draco didn’t follow the Malfoy allegiance. Bad things.

Hermione knew, realistically, their plan was perfect. It was the only way to ensure his safety, and hers.

She sobbed harder into his school robes, covering her face with the black cloth. His scent lingered there so pointedly, it felt a comfort to her. Instantly she felt it fill her up. The calm of his smell washed through her, and the tears stopped.

Draco pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Mione, please darling, look at me.”

The backs of her hands dragged across her reddened cheeks and puffy eyes. Draco filled with hurt. She watched his eyes swim with it as she fidgeted with his tie like an embarrassed child.

           “I thought – darling, I thought that’s what you wanted. It’s what we’ve done before. You liked it then.”

A few guilty tears fell down her cheeks and she wiped them away with bitter pride. “No, I did. I do.”

Draco looked on in disbelief. “It sure doesn’t seem like it.”

           “Tell me what is the matter with you,” he finally managed to put together after many minutes of thoughts swirling his head. “And it better not have anything to do with that Viktor Krum.”

Hermione choked on a sob. “No! No, it’s got nothing to do with him.”

She couldn’t shut it off now. It was like she just felt him gone, even as he cradled her as his scent filled inside her lungs like a smoke you couldn’t cough out, Draco Malfoy felt a million miles away.

           “Then you better tell me what it is about, Hermione Granger. I’m supposed to take care of you, and I can’t do that if you keep things from me. Now come on.” He shook her gently. “Out with it.”

           “Draco,” she groaned. She just couldn’t do this now. Her thoughts weren’t gathered, neither was she. The rain poured harder. Soon enough, they’d both be expected back at the castle to go about their days without the other. The Yule Ball was in the heat of the second challenge that approached faster and faster.

Harry needed her more than ever. His life was at stake with each challenge. He barely survived the first. She should have helped him better than she had. Yet the tournament was designed to trick even the best of them.

She felt herself falling in line with the wake that was Harry Potter. Each passing year he demanded more and more of her than she even used for herself. She loved him so dearly and fiercely, but between him and Ronald, she was lucky to be seen as anything beside their ownership. Ronald had flirted with the idea of asking Hermione to the Yule Ball but as he strode around the castle with so many pretty girls in their swishy skirts, the thoughts got jumbled in his mind. She was left by the wayside.

Viktor Krum didn’t hesitate. He spent many days in the library, Hermione saw, but he never came close. However he finally approached her the day before to ask her to the Yule Ball as his date. She was shocked, ecstatic. Mostly she felt hopeful for a new friendship with an unlikely man. Of all people she knew what could come from unusual pairings.

Hermione took a deep breath. The sky overhead was turning darker by the minute. Daylight was fading.  

           “I really should be leaving soon, you know.”

Draco dreaded those words. They always came too soon.

           “Not until you answer me,” he growled.

Her secrecy betrayed even his most stoic of confidences. It felt as though she was keeping something from him, something that he should know. She liked to be that way. Granger was so stubborn and independent that it made his head dizzy with frustration. For once, he wanted to be that for her.

It couldn’t be like she wanted, or he wanted, but it was what he could offer.

Hermione gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “They’ll start looking for me.”

           “I don’t give a flying broomstick if they come down here with Dementors on leashes, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what just happened.”

She squirmed in his grip and he held her tighter. He was much stronger than her, that was always the case. It didn’t lessen the fight, just the length.

She straightened her arms against his chest. “It. Was. Nothing.”

He fought her attempts and clung to her, even as she wiggled and flailed. Her hair tossed back and forth as she moved side to side. Her legs unwrapped from around his waist.

           “If it was nothing.” He ducked away from a sharp slap. “then you would tell me!”

She started to claw at his shins with her legs with a thought popped in her head. Draco watched it come and take hold of her.

           “Don’t you even think about it,” he warned.

A sadness came over her face once more. “Then will you let me go?”

The suddenness sparked another stronger urge to hold her close, but he felt his arms go limp and she slid right out.

She stood in his black cloak that dragged along the ground, jeans and an entirely too thin shirt. It was soaked on the one side still. Below she didn’t wear a bra. Once it had excited him to see her in such a way, but now the reality dawned on him that she wouldn’t just be for his eyes.

Draco watched her gather up her few things.

She turned to leave but stopped. Who knew how long it would be before should could be with him again? Two weeks, three?

Hermione ran to his side and buried her face there. It was a breath or two easier for Draco, too.

If she would have left like that, he would have chased her down and dragged her back to cover her in the deepest kisses he could muster.

           “Please toss out that shirt when you get back,” he murmured into her ear.

She looked down and rolled her eyes. “Draco…”

His look was not of pleasure but of insistence. A pleading instruction. “Just please.”

           “I won’t wear it around anyone else,” she said. “I promise.”

           “Not even Viktor Krum. I swear, if I hear about you and him in anything less than your school robes, I’ll have personally see to it that he doesn’t get anywhere close to your undershirt.”

She wouldn’t ever tell him, but she liked when he talked like that, a bit.

           “You’d really do that?” She asked. “For me?”

Draco nudged her, surprised. “Hermione, don’t act so surprised. I can be very frightening. Especially when it comes to you. I’d kill any man who’d hurt you and I’d maim any man who tried. I thought you knew that with that bird buck last term.”

           “Buckbeak,” she said. Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “And you didn’t have to have it killed!”

           “The damn thing bit you, Hermione!”

She huffed. “Not before it broke your arm.”

           “My arm? You think this was just about my arm?” Draco gripped his nose. “The only reason my father asked it to be killed is because I asked him to. Bloody thing was a menace. It was an animal, at a school. It’s lucky I didn’t wring it’s neck when you showed me the bite.”

Hermione ached at the reminder. She knew Buckbeak was alive and well. It wasn’t dead as he knew it to be. He’d be personally hunting it if he did. That was the time she struck him. She hadn’t even meant to. Draco knew how heartbroken she was when she’d found out why Buckbeak was being put to death, and then Draco was there with Goyle and Crabbe the same time she was. She had to keep up appearances. Even when Draco goaded her on about it, as did the other two, but it stung worse from him. Draco knew how much she hated being the reason for the poor animal’s death.

Draco lifted her chin up to face him. His gray stare burned in her brown eyes. They were so sharp and cunning. She saw the soul that danced behind their frame and it wiggled within her heart. It was the very soul that laid claim over every part of her. That was the very essence of herself, owned and protected in body and heart.

           “You are mine?” He asked.

She nodded softly. “I am yours.”

           “There won’t be anybody else. Not a single one between us.”

Again, she agreed. “Not one, and that applies to you, too.”

It was the second time she’d gone off their usual script just to take a stab at him. As if she knew something that he didn’t.

           “Would you mind clarifying that for me?” His voice was on edge, especially since he felt her pulling away from his side. The time had come for her to leave. She slipped his cloak off her shoulders with ease. “Eh? Is there something you want to say to me?”

Anger boiled inside him as she proceeded in silence, trying to hand it back to him. He kept his arms away. It was supposed to make her talk, but instead, she slung the cloak over his shoulder.

           “Hermione?” He called. The intensity was hard to hide now. His anger was already ignited. “Hermione Granger!”

His voice was lost in the rumble of the clouds.

__________________________________________________________

Chapter 2 and on is on Fanfiction.net at  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13141381/1/The-Lion-and-The-Serpent-Hidden and be sure to follow my author profile, ravengabrielle :)