#eleanor laurens

[john-laurens]

"Women of the Laurens Family" from Carologue Vol. 40, No. 1

You can read the entire Carologue issue as a PDF here

[violntfemme]

fell madly in love with @stasiaorleanka 's idea of alex n john reincarnated as girls and so in average Doli fashion im obligated to draw at least one of them

[mymanreedus]

[artificial-infatuation]

This blog is non-interactive. It will not follow back nor respond to tags, but might reblog if tagged.

I created this archive to catalog things my main blog (@rjthirsty) doesn't really have room to keep. Here you will find an easier place to find my OCs, art I've commissioned, projects I'm part of that don't fit in my writing masterlists, and whatever else I decide to add. It will mostly revolve around fictional men and media.

Please do not use art on this blog for reuploading without credit, or for AI purposes.

Tags

#commissioned - things I comm'ed, artist will always be credited in post

#screenshots - things I love from games, not spoiler-free

#this brings joy - things I want to revisit because they bring me joy

#vtuber - things related to my vtuber model, RJ Mercy

#ikememe - things related to the Ikemen Series not designated as one of the other tags

#official art - art from the creators of a game

#letters from ikemen - a project I'm *no longer part of (tag will stay in use)

OC Tags

#eleanor - my OC for Ikemen Villains, Eleanor Lambert

#emmit - my OC/MC for my Ikemen Prince AU with gender changes, Emmit Watkins

#dahlia - my OC/MC for Ikemen Prince, Dahlia

#kasey - my OC for Ikemen Prince, Kasey Malik

#kayden - my OC for Ikemen Prince, Kayden Bazen

#lauren - my OC/MC for Ikemen Villains, Lauren Cromwell

#owen - my OC for Ikemen Villains, Owen Huxley

[avileworld-org]

HONOR | SS 2024 Campaign

[une-sanz-pluis]

I was rereading the chapter in Lauren Johnson’s Shadow King about the accusations against Eleanor and, well, to misquote Hotspur, it made me mad. It’s one thing reading something that obviously believes Eleanor was guilty, another thing that’s been shoddily researched and presented.

‘A great and cunning man in astronomy’, [Bolingbroke] had been commissioned by Eleanor to draw a horoscope for the king. Working with Eleanor’s physician, Dr Thomas Southwell, the pair had divined that Henry’s death was imminent. According to their calculations Henry would sicken in his twentieth year, enduring a wasting disease that would strike him first with fever and cold, then with an unnatural heat. By summer at the latest, he would be dead. 

This actually misrepresents Bolingbroke and Southwell’s prediction for Henry’s death in favour of, surprise surprise, a more shocking and dramatic reading. The original horoscope does not survive but a copy of it is found in an anonymous treatise that discusses it and two earlier natal charts of Henry VI before offering up its own. Hilary M. Carey breaks down the seven conclusions Bolingbroke and Southwell reached which I’ll paraphrase here.

Henry would endure a dangerous condition/event in his 20th year unless he was able to avoid it by art or industry

This condition/event would affect bodily disposition

The effect on the body would be in the nature of natural infirmities and would come from nature.

The origin of these infirmities would be of Saturn’s nature, possibly a fever with a great tremor, “moist” infirmities or brought on by great cold

Henry’s recovery would be characterised by excessive heat (e.g. continual fever, choleric abscesses)

The event/condition would begin at any time from April 1441 on and would last for an entire year at most

The event/condition would appear in July or August 1441 unless it was averted by “wise action"

So, the actual prediction is for a natural disease or condition could be fatal but could also be averted. There is nothing “overtly treasonable” in their readings, only a warning of “possible illness”. Carey (followed by Frank Millard) also suggests that Bolingbroke and Southwell shared their conclusions with Henry VI or Henry’s doctors. If this was the case, this means that rather than being the dastardly accomplices of Eleanor, Bolingbroke and Southwell may have actually been guilty of no more than trying to warn the king of a potential risk to his health. It is also possible, I suggest, that the horoscope may have been commissioned by Eleanor (perhaps out of concern for Henry's health?) and then shared with Henry or his doctors by Eleanor or on her orders so the illness could be averted.

(also note that that the event/condition was supposed to appear at the same time that Eleanor and her associates were moved against.)

The three men had been provided with a waxen image of the king by Margery Jourdemayne, also known as ‘the Witch of Eye’, which, on melting, would bring about the death of the king.

[citation needed]

OK, I actually know the citation for this is, it's Jessica Freeman's article on Margery Jourdemayne. But also the wax figure is associated with Roger Bolingbroke. The Brut mentions “ymages of siluer, of wexe, and of oþer metalles“ being displayed with Bolingbroke and the indictment for Bolingbroke, Southwell and Hume make mention of them using a wax figure for the purposes of drawing up the chart. Modern scholars Jessica Freeman and George Kittredge suggested Margery was their supplier of the wax image but it's more speculative than certain. I have a fair few issues with Freeman's article because it seems so speculative. It's entirely possible Margery did supply the wax figure but I've never seen anyone put forward evidence that she did (I've never seen much evidence about what Margery was supposed to have done) and it's impossible to know for sure at this great distance and with such limited evidence who made the wax figure. At best, contemporary records suggest the wax figure was associated with Bolingbroke.

Johnson’s account of events does not also acknowledge the possibility that the wax image may well have been used in some kind of fertility magic (which is the only thing we know Eleanor admitted to) or love magic (which Eleanor was also accused of). Kristen Geaman suggests that these images were used for fertility magic and notes that fertility magic was often tied up in love magic. I would argue that Eleanor turning to magical remedies for her childlessness makes perfect sense given her circumstances.

But more pointedly, this was a repeated issue with witchcraft accusations. Since magic was a taboo, it was carried out secretly and it was easy to represent the practice of relatively innocuous magic as something far more nefarious. It often came down to one person's words against another and, in those cases, about who "seemed" more likely to be telling the truth. The victims of witchcraft trials tended to be the marginalised and vulnerable in society. While Eleanor and other aristocratic women in late medieval England cannot be said to be marginalised figures, they were vulnerable to accusations in other ways. Eleanor had been the figure of scandal some years before for being the mistress of Humphrey during his marriage to the popular Jacqueline of Hainault and was of the lower gentry, meaning there was likely a degree of classism in how she was viewed, especially once she married Humphrey, and that her family did not have the influence to intervene for her sake. A contemporary poem, written before or shortly after her marriage to Humphrey, associated her with witchcraft and witches, and claimed she had used magic to force Humphrey's heart away from Jacqueline. It would be all to easy for Eleanor to be seen as guilty, regardless of the reality.

The wax figurine could have represented Henry. It could have represented Humphrey (if so, it may have been paired with an unrecorded figurine of Eleanor). It could have represented a hoped-for child. We don't know.

Moreover, as the indictment against Eleanor expressed it, by spreading a belief in Henry’s imminent mortality, the duchess had fomented unrest, encouraging his subjects to turn from their ‘cordial love’ of the king.

Not nitpicking Johnson here but the accusations themselves. Is it just me or is “spreading a belief in Henry’s imminent mortality” an incredibly stupid thing for a woman plotting his death to do? It’s things like this that make me go all conspiracy minded and wonder if the accusations against Eleanor were preceded by some kind of breakdown in Henry’s health (be it mental or physical) that has since been lost to history. It would explain why Eleanor (or someone else) had Henry’s horoscope drawn up and why there were rumours and fears for his health. It would also frame the response to the accusations against against Eleanor as a display of strength.

When pressed in her second examination, [Eleanor] had confessed to five of the twenty-eight counts of felony and treason, but she insisted that she had not sought Henry’s death, and that the wax images which the court interpreted as intended for his destruction were actually part of a fertility ritual, ‘for to have borne a child by her lord, the duke of Gloucester’. This more innocent use of magic did not save her from condemnation, however. By her own admission, she was a traitor and must be punished.

And this makes no sense.

First: Eleanor was tried by an ecclesiastic court. They were trying on her charges relating to ecclesiastic crimes. In short, treason was not an ecclesiastic crime. The court she was tried in had no jurisdiction over treason.

Now you might be going “what do you, random tumblr user, know about this” so, here’s J. G. Bellamy in The Law of Treason in Late Medieval England (Cambridge University Press, 2004):

Eleanor was summoned before a number of important churchmen including the archbishops of Canterbury and York and the bishop of Winchester to answer to twenty-eight charges of necromancy, witchcraft, sorcery, heresy and treason with Bolingbroke acting as a witness against her. This account is given by Stow and the author of The Brut: there is unfortunately no official record with which to compare it. Very likely the clergy were only investigating heresy and perhaps witchcraft. They would not have been investigating treason since it was not clergyable.

(note: Bellamy is published by an academic press, he is an expert in medieval law, he wrote the standard on medieval treason law. Johnson specialises in the Tudors, not medieval England, and wrote a pop history narrative biography of Henry VI which was naturally not published by an academic press.)

So, no, they did not investigate Eleanor for treason. It was not in their jurisdiction. It was not a charge they could or would have levied at her in her sole court trial. It was not a charge that she therefore could admit to. As Bellamy says, they probably investigated her for heresy (all magic was heresy, after all).

(It might be possible that they phrased the charges to refer to treason, i.e. something like "she did treasonably urge that a natal chart be drawn up predicting the king's death", but we do not and cannot know that. If so, it may constitute a merging of secular and spiritual authority in her case and may also suggest how desperate they were to frame her actions as treason and lends credence to the notion that she had been set up.)

Second: We do not know what 28 charges against Eleanor were, let alone what she admitted to. As Bellamy points out, the records don’t survive. We can safely dismiss treason from the list and focus on the heresy/witchcraft. We know that she was simultaneously accused of using love magic on her husband and that the one thing we know she admitted to is fertility magic so we should expect charges relating to those things to be among the twenty-eight, not just the use of magic against Henry VI (which likely centred on the natal chart). This further weakens Johnson’s claims that Eleanor had admitted to treason. Logically, too, Eleanor would have admitted to the most minor of the charges and it's possible that the five charges Eleanor admitted to were solely related to her admission of fertility magic.

Because I’ve rambled a lot, I’ll requote this bit:

[Eleanor] insisted that she had not sought Henry’s death, and that the wax images which the court interpreted as intended for his destruction were actually part of a fertility ritual ... [b]y her own admission, she was a traitor and must be punished.

Because it is just very:

Eleanor: I was trying to have a baby Johnson: TREASON!!!!!!!!!

There are some historians who note this defence might have alarmed Henry VI and co because Eleanor was attempting to secure her own succession. And possibly it did.

But it’s all very... nonsensical. It’s perfectly understandable that she would be trying to have a baby and would have progressed to less conventional methods considering her personal circumstances (being childless in her early 40s, married to the heir to the throne). Humphrey was Henry’s heir but lacked legitimate children, Henry wasn’t yet married and no movements had been made in that direction. Humphrey’s theoretical son might pose a theoretical risk to Henry but he would also be Henry’s heir. The anxieties around the succession are typically dated to after Humphrey’s death in 1447 but there is every reason to assume that this may happened earlier. I heavily suspect that these anxieties were a real concern for Humphrey and Eleanor, not least because their own lack of children meant they both lacked an heir. Additionally, if Henry and co were especially worried by the fact that Eleanor was trying to have a baby, the best way to solve that problem was for Henry to marry and start trying to produce an heir. And honestly, what were they even worried about? Eleanor was in her early 40s and childless after 13 years of marriage. She wasn't going to have a baby.

And by the way? That "[b]y her own admission, she was a traitor and must be punished” line? Creeps me the fuck out. It reads like the start of a S&M scene.

[spinachbobsquarepants]

IDK how to explain this but I think Eleanor Forte is like the Lauren Lopez of vocal synths

[derryallergy]

how i imagine eleanor shellstrop's singing voice is not kristen bell's actual singing voice; in my heart it's lauren lopez's

[grande-caps]

The Walking Dead 11.21 - 11.24 size: 1920x1080 8,882 screencaps

[john-laurens]

Hello ! Is there any potrait of Henry laurens Jr? :) sorry for the dumb question.

I have not come across any portrait or physical description of Henry Laurens, Jr. However, we do know what several of his family members looked like. We have portraits of his sons, John Ball Laurens (left) and Edward Rutledge Laurens (right), as painted by Charles Fraser:

We also have a portrait of his wife, Eliza Rutledge, as painted by John Trumbull:

Given that Harry's sons (particularly Edward) had darker hair while Eliza had light blonde hair, we can assume that Harry had dark hair. The whole family appears to have had blue eyes, and we know that Henry Laurens had blue eyes as well. It's difficult to tell, but it looks like Harry's mother Eleanor Ball Laurens could have had some shade of blue eyes (painted by Jeremiah Theus):

Based on the blue eyes observed throughout the family, it's likely that Harry had blue eyes as well.

[affectionately-frankie]

I did more surface level research on Francis Henderson Sr's family. I did some basics back in March, which you can see here. Something else that is important for later information is the research into the possible descendants of Francis Henderson Jr, which you can find here. With new evidence that's popped up, I think it's even more likely that Francis Henderson Jr possibly had a child.

To start, as far as I'm aware, there seems to only be evidence of four children by Francis Sr and his second wife, Elizabeth. William Hoggan Henderson (1816 - 1897), Elizabeth Hoggan Henderson (d. 1828 aged nine), Janet Henderson Carruthers (1822 - 1856), and Robert James Henderson (c. 1826 - c. 1914).

William married a woman named Mary (1817 - 1906). The couple only had one child, Anna, born 1849 and died 1855 at the age of six.

Janet obviously married due to her surname, but I couldn't find any information regarding her marriage, or if she had any children. It's likely that the marriage was short-lived and childless, as she died at 34 and was buried with her parents.

Robert has the most sources out of all of his siblings (including Francis Jr). Robert married a woman named Haley Russel Salisbury. Apparently, she was born in France. They had at least three children, a daughter named Mary Phillips Henderson, born c. 1862, and another daughter born in 1865 probably named Isabel Henderson. They had another son, William H Henderson, born c. 1869.

I couldn't find any later sources for Mary or Isabel (but to be completely honest, I didn't look too hard), but I found one for William. He married a woman named either named Bertha or Elizabeth and had four children. Mary, born c. 1892, William, born c. 1895, George, born c. 1900, and....Mahala, born 1906.

Now, if you read the research I did on the supposed descendants of Francis Jr, you probably had the same reaction I did, of "Hmm??? Mahala???" While I initially wrote it off as a wild coincidence, when I went back to all of my previous research on Mahala (who, for the uninitiated, was allegedly the only surviving grandchild of Francis Jr), it actually lines up shockingly well. Mahala, her husband Coleman, and their children all moved to Rhode Island sometime between 1898 and 1900. I even pointed out in my post that the fact Mahala and her family decided to go to Rhode Island, where their supposed great-grandfather's family lived, was interesting. And Mahala isn't exactly a common name, even in this time period.

I don't know. It seems pretty likely to me that Mahala got into contact with her maybe-cousins and decided to go live with them. It's obviously just speculation; it could just be a wild coincidence.

I haven't done any further research because I was just eager to share after being gone for apparently eight months.

[alishysimmy]

A burglar stole a few things from the Dreamer household, unfortunately they got away with it. Dirk came by for a visit. Charlotte became good friends with Kaylynn and Don's daughter, Lauren. Both Charlotte and Eleanor celebrated their birthdays. They also got a little bunny cage, no idea what they named it though.

[echosdevil]

the one thing that sucks about twd being over is that we're never getting content of the four of them together again

[mymanreedus]

[1d1195]

Most V

Read Most here | ~5.8k words

From me: I've been waiting for this part for a REALLY long time.

Warnings: *drum roll* SMUT, semi-public, unprotected, really needy 18+ also, some pretty angsty chats (and more Lauren)

Summary: Harry has been dying for this date for three years. And all the answers it comes with. Even if he doesn't like some of them. She missed Harry. Plain and simple.

With Addie off the phone, she gazed at her reflection for a moment. The girls did an amazing job with her hair and makeup. She felt beautiful. Beautiful enough to be on a date with Harry. He was one of the only people she had ever been on a date with (as much as she did it, she didn’t consider third-wheeling with Addie and Carter actually dating; and knowing Harry was her soulmate put a damper on the memory of her dates with one of the only other guys she dated, Beau, in the ninth grade). It was simultaneously terrifying and wonderful.

The thought of him made the nerves return. Closing her eyes, she smoothed down the skirt of her dress. It was light green. Nearly matched Harry’s eyes, which was why she selected it. There was a slight V-cut at her neck and had fluttery sleeves at the top of her shoulders. Eleanor insisted it looked beautiful against her skin and the skirt cinched slightly at her waist accentuating her curves and then came to a ruffled hem that hit just above her knee. With a pair of wedged nude sandals, she tried to create the effect that her legs were longer, but she slightly felt like she was playing dress up and this was not a date she was meant to go on.

“I just need to jump,” she whispered to herself encouragingly.

The full effect had Harry’s jaw nearly unhinged to the floor as she entered the kitchen. Eleanor punched him in the arm to keep him from drooling. Sarah smiled excitedly. “You look beautiful.”

“Extremely,” Harry nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her feel naked, but in a really good way. She blushed so cutely. It made Harry’s heart skip a beat.  “Ready?” He asked.

She nodded. Because for the first time in ages she felt so ready to go on a date. Eager. Utterly excited to be alone with someone. “Yes,” she smiled.

*

Dinner passed in a blur. Truly, he was only thinking about the way her smile looked so nice on her lips. How soft her hair framed around her face. The way her skin practically glowed and it was only amplified by the makeup that she decidedly did not need but it looked like she was doing the products a favor by wearing them on her beautiful face. He was only pretty sure they spoke. Chatted about a variety of things but he wasn’t sure he could recall them in detail if asked because he was so overwhelmed by the fact that he was with her, on a date. After all that time.

He suspected there was stuff about work and college. He did remember he told her at least twenty stories about Mrs. Peterson and seriously worried she was one of his best friends, now. She talked about Carter and Addie. Gave an update on her mum and how she enjoyed living closer to her aunt.

But all those details disappeared. He was on a date with her. A date with the love of his life after three years of not seeing her and it was so goddamn effortless to talk to her, make her laugh, and smile with her.

It felt so good he could have cried.

“What are y’going t’do when y’finish your degree?”

“Uh,” she sighed, and Harry sensed her worry almost immediately. Wished he hadn’t made her feel uneasy even a little. Even if it was natural to feel that way.

A little anxiety about her future career was new for her. For the first time in so many years, nervousness that wasn’t because she was worried about him or her love for Harry was a bit of a curve ball. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted it badly, but didn’t know if it would pan out the way she saw it in her mind. “I’m not totally sure, actually,” she admitted. “I’ve got an online portfolio of my work, and I’ve sent it to a ton of publishers, magazines, et cetera,” she took a deep breath. “I could be really stereotypical and just continue waitressing by night and writing by day,” she shrugged. It wasn’t a bad gig. But it wasn’t what she hoped for exactly.

“Someone is going t’pick you up. You are too brilliant t’not be,” he sounded so sure—because he was. If there was anything he believed in, it was her, her dreams, and ambitions. “S’nice it can be... remote, yeah? Let you travel and visit your mum and whatnot,” stay here. With me. He thought silently to himself.

She nodded. “Yeah... I guess. But... I think I’d want to stay here.”

For three years, his heart was not inside his chest. But now it was back, the veins and arteries reconnecting to the rest of his body. Literally putting life back in him. It thudded so loudly he could barely make out the sound of the restaurant around them as he smiled at her. “Good,” he nodded. “Good,” he repeated quietly, relief heavier in his tone.

After a brief protest from her, (and for the first time since she arrived home, he didn’t even look at her as he pushed her hand away) Harry paid and signed the receipt for their meal. Once her glass was nothing but ice, he looked at her expectantly. “D’you want t’get coffee?” He asked, his voice full of hope because he didn’t want the night to end. Not even a little.

She nodded. If the night never ended, she would be glad.

Harry ushered her out of the restaurant, and she held her hand out for his. He took it eagerly and marveled at how her fingers fit the spaces between his; it felt like they were supposed to be there, and his hand was empty, not complete without hers attached to it.

They made their way toward the coffee shop up the road. Holding hands like they had done hundreds of times before. They chatted about the weather. He complimented the way her hair had lighter streaks throughout. She looked good. So good. “Louis and I have been running in the morning,” she told him with a shrug. “I think the sun hits different parts of my hair when it’s up and gives me this highlight effect.”

Harry had no idea he had been running with her. “You have?” He asked. Jealousy flooded him. It wasn’t fair to either of them. It was stupid. But the surprise was genuine.

“Yeah... the first time I went out and I saw him, I chased after him because he didn’t want to talk to me. But I buttered him up with those muffins I—”

“Holy shit, y’made the oat muffins?” He asked in shock. Forget what he said. The jealousy was real. She blushed, feeling bad she let Louis’ secret slip.

“You hate him now, don’t you?”

“Immensely,” he squeezed her hand as she giggled. “Did y’make the blueberry ones or the cranberry ones?”

“Do you actually want that answer?”

“No,” he shook his head quickly. “You’re right.”

“I’ll make some extra,” she offered.

Harry was about to ask her about breakfast tomorrow, but his phone began vibrating in his pocket. It was a great effort and made him feel awful, but he looked at it because he had to. As expected, it was his boss. “M’sorry kitten. S’work. Do y’want t’go in and order?” She smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Tell Lauren I said hi,” he said pressing the phone to his ear and stepping away from the shop a few paces.

Of course, someone was having a family emergency and without a family of his own, Harry was always the first call for overtime and help. There were still hours before he would need to go in. It wasn’t ideal, but still gave him plenty of time to finish his date.

It was well worth getting no sleep if it meant he could spend more precious time with her. It was one thing he was never going to take advantage of ever again. Time with her was the most invaluable thing he had.

“Everything okay?” She asked, holding out a cup to him.

“Thank you. Yeah... jus’... gotta do the overnight at midnight.”

“Oof,” she frowned. Then, much to his delight and surprise, she slipped her hand right back into his, like three years of nothingness didn’t stretch between them. Like they held hands for the last eleven-hundred odd days, every day. “Is that hard?”

For a moment, Harry was speechless, breathless, unable to remember what her question was asking. But then he brought himself back to reality. Harry didn’t like sleeping much. It was where he saw her most. All those dreams of what could have been... so no. It wasn’t hard to do overnights because at least when he was dead tired in the mornings after his shift, he didn’t dream. Didn’t see her. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. “M’used to it.”

“Well, we can head home if you want to get a couple hours of sleep in before—”

“Do y’want t’go home?” He asked immediately, cutting her off, frowning at the idea of ending their night so quickly.

“No!” She answered just as immediately. Then, with a pink color painting her cheeks, she cleared her throat. “Just... want to make sure you’re... okay.”

Now he dreaded it. The couple of hours that he had seemed like nothing. There was no way he would get all the questions he wanted answered out in the open. But he had to start somewhere. “M’fine. Promise. Do y’want t’jus’ drive around for a bit?”

Silently, she nodded. “Please.”

*

Something shifted as they got back in his car. He wasn’t sure what, but it was a feeling like something had changed in the short time he was on the phone. It was in her eyes, the spiral of anxiety that was beginning to surface from inside her.

It seemed utterly unfair, and he silently hoped she wouldn’t retreat into herself. The thoughts of her leaving like she did three years ago rolled in his head so frequently now that she was home, he had a whole new set of nightmares to keep him company when he did sleep at night.

But right now, she was still in his car, and he had questions to ask.

For the time being, he pointed out new details on road signs that had been fixed and renovations to things in town she couldn’t see from the outside. She asked polite questions but really, he was just wasting time. So finally, Harry went to the next town over. He pulled into a little spot off the side of the road that fit exactly one car and gave a great view of the town. It wasn’t a mountain by any stretch, but high enough to make them feel tall and important.

He imagined it was a popular spot for teens with new licenses to make out as well.

Not that that was his intention.

There was a pause in their conversation. Comfortable and quiet. Then as Harry was about to ask her another question, she bounced in surprise at the sound of fireworks decorating the sky in front of them. “Wow,” she laughed. “All for me?” She winked at him.

He laughed and nodded. “M-hmm, had it all planned,” he watched the sky for a bit but the most beautiful thing he had the pleasure of looking at was her. So, he turned to watch her enjoy the display. She looked so pretty, her face illuminating every few seconds with a different color from the sky. He missed her so viscerally. Like even the freckles on his skin missed her. Every inch of him was plagued with wanting her even though she was right next to him.

If she went silent on him, he was going to lose his mind.

It was now, or never.

“Why did y’do it?” He whispered.

“Do what?” She asked, frowning at his quiet tone.

He closed his eyes, gripped the steering wheel tight. She had to know what he was talking about. “Why did you leave?”

Her breath caught and Harry felt bad for catching her off guard. But she had to know this needed to be said, needed to be dealt with. “Harry,” she sighed, swallowed hard. She looked out the passenger window avoiding the fireworks. “You should just... enjoy the fireworks. This isn’t—”

“Kitten, I need t’know.”

“I know,” her head knocked against the glass. He could just make out her reflection, her pained expression. It was rude of him to press. But he had to keep going. “But we—”

He pressed anyway. “You have t’tell me. Y’jus’ show up after three years of nothing. It killed me.”

“I know,” she croaked. “God, Harry, I know.”

“So tell me,” he was practically begging. “Don’t y’think I deserve t’know? You were m’whole world, kitten. S’not fair of you—”

“Harry, I fucking know!” She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. He was being unfair. In the time they were together they never fought. What did sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds have to fight about? When she left it was just sad. They never argued. So asking her to do this in his car on their first date after so many years, so many days of sadness and heartache, was completely unfair of him.

“I was so lost, kitten,” he wasn’t fighting fair at all. Coaxing her to breaking even though he had every right to know. She didn’t want the night to end and she feared it would if she told him.

“Harry—”

“Please, kitten. Baby, I just want t’understand—”

She choked out an involuntary sob the moment he said baby. “Because you deserved more than me! Okay? You deserved so much more than me and you wouldn’t have let me go so I just left, alright? You deserved more. So much more than me.”

The fireworks seemed quiet after her explosion.

But it didn’t make any more sense to Harry than the very day she first said it. “What does that even mean?”

Clearly, he broke something in her. She cried, hard. Breaking his heart further. He felt like an asshole, but he desperately needed to know. Her pretty makeup was going to be ruined thanks to him. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed into the window.

At least he had an answer.

Now for the next question. “Why did y’come back?” There was no answer for that. Just her quiet sniffles filled the car. She dug into his glove compartment for a napkin to wipe her face. If Harry wasn't so upset, he would have marveled at how she knew where everything was; some things didn't change even if they had. “Kitten, tell me.”

“Harry,” she whimpered. “Please...”

But he was desperate for answers. Desperate to put his heart back together. “I needed to see...” she croaked, her voice dying part way through the sentence.

“See what?” He was exasperated.

“That you had...” she swallowed. “That you had moved on.”

He turned away from her briefly, face twisting in anguish. He shook his head then turned back to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, asking her to face him and look at him when he said the next part. “Moved on?” He repeated. The words didn’t make sense. “How was I supposed t’move on, exactly?”

She sobbed and Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Hold her and kiss her. He wanted to promise it was going to be okay. The way he always did when she cried. But he couldn’t. He needed to know how she thought that it was possible to exist without her. “I thought if I—”

“You are my soulmate, kitten. You know that.”

She whimpered, cheeks flushed, and tears streamed down her face. It pained him to look at her so upset but he had to finish this. Now. “You don’t believe in soulmates,” she whispered. Almost as if she wasn’t talking to him.

“But you told me we were,” his voice was crystal clear, definitive. No room to persuade him of anything else. She was his soulmate. She believed in them, so it had to be true. He believed in her. So that was enough. Harry gripped the steering wheel for all he was worth. Gritted his teeth as he asked his next question. “Did you move on?” The question was lost to the fireworks and the sound of her cries. But she clearly caught some of it.

“...What?” She whispered, tilting her head at him at a strange angle. Like he just told her that the grass was orange and it rained flower petals.

He inhaled sharply realizing he was agonizing over the thought. How long had he been holding that question in his head? Why didn’t he ask it sooner? Well, he knew why he didn’t ask it sooner. A large part of him never wanted to know the answer. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or... a fiancé?”

“Harry,” she rubbed her hands into her eyes.

“Goddammit," he sucked in a deep breath. "Tell me!” His heart was breaking.

“I didn’t date anyone while I was gone. I told people that I, and my heart, were happily taken. It never even crossed my mind, Harry,” she looked at her lap and swallowed nervously.

The fireworks complimented their evening perfectly. He released the breath he was holding and the grip he had on the steering wheel. The feeling came back to his fingers. His knuckles returned to the right color. “You said y’were taken?” He asked, thinking of the same notion he told Mrs. Peterson whenever she wanted to set him up on a blind date. Her gaze returned to his, and she held it for a moment, still in complete silence. Then she nodded. Her sniffles subsided.

Then she snorted, shaking her head with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “A fiancé, Harry? That’s ridiculous.”

“S’not,” he didn’t smile like she did. It was so serious to him. Felt it in his bones how serious it was. “Because if y’thought I was going t’move on from you... I don’t know, kitten,” he shook his head.

“No,” she repeated. Relief flooded him further. “I couldn’t... I took this first aid class,” she swallowed. “You would be really proud of me,” she smiled more genuinely through tears that filled her lash line. “I thought about all the things you taught me yourself when you practiced first aid and whatnot. I knew so much stuff. I was the class pet—”

“Course y’were.”

“—but we practiced taping wrists and ankles and I had to work with this guy, and I thought he was going to kill me,” she sniffed but that smile never left her lips. “I flinched every time his hand touched mine. He probably thought I was in a horrible relationship and that’s why I was learning how to tape injuries. I couldn’t even tell him that it was the exact opposite because I couldn’t tell him about you.”

Harry was silent, watching the explosion of color against the dark sky.

“I thought you would have moved on,” she whispered.

“Y’got your mom t’leave. I couldn’t even ask ‘bout you. You stopped talking to all of us.”

“If it helps at all, it was really lonely. Even with Addie and Carter...” she shrugged.

It didn’t. The thought of her being sad and lonely felt about as painful as her leaving. He was so grateful she had a friend to look after her. Someone to confide in. Because she left a lot of people behind who loved her, but at least Harry had them to comfort him as best they could.

“I thought about you every day,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking about writing our story. I’ve been outlining it... reliving every memory through it. Every painful thing. I think it’ll be a series and honestly, I think it will be really good because the ending will be sad, and no one will see it coming because we didn’t see it coming and—”

“Our book?”

She paused. “You were my favorite thing to write about.”

He shook his head. He knew that. It wasn’t a conceited kind of thing. She said it all the time and he knew it. “What do you mean a sad ending?”

Another pause. She closed her eyes and sighed. “You can’t possibly want me back.”

Another long pause. Harry mulled it over and he realized just how angry he was. What had he done wrong that she didn’t feel adored by him? Where had he messed up and not made her feel safe? Did he let go of her hand like when they were on the balcony the other day? It was too much for him. His grip tightened on the steering wheel again. “What is the matter with you?” He put his head on the steering wheel against his hands as he spit the words out. He hated arguing with her. He felt pulled in two directions to have this conversation and comfort her. It seemed impossible to do them both at the same time.

“Harry,” she frowned. “I’m—”

He shook his head and smacked his hands against the wheel as he sat back. “I am never going t’stop wanting you. Don’t you get that? There is no ending with us. There can’t be. I have been waiting for three years for you t’come back t’me. You’re here and y’think I’m jus’ supposed t’have move—”

She was kissing him.

Her lips covered his in a hungry kind of way. Raw, achy, and hot. She pulled away briefly, her breath short pants. Her hand at the back of his head, her fingers pulled and tightened snuggly against locks of his hair. Poor Harry was so surprised he didn’t fully grasp what was happening and forgot to kiss her back.

He hoped she didn’t think it was too late. Or too soon, maybe, for him to agree to this kind of thing. But he only let one additional second pass before his lips were back on hers. His hands held each side of her face pulling her close to him, awkwardly around the console.

She seemed to melt into the kiss, her whole body releasing a long breath that made her shoulders fall, her body sinking forward. Harry moaned quietly into her mouth. One hand slid from her face into the back of her perfectly styled hair. Within five more seconds he started to pull her over the console separating them. He heard the clunk of one of her shoes falling onto the floor. With one hand on the small of her back, he used his free hand to push the seat back to give her more room between his body and the steering wheel.

Harry wasn’t her first kiss. But the way it felt, he may as well have been. She wished he was. There was nothing better than kissing him. There was a familiar possessiveness in the mix of their lips and breath. It was like he was saying no one else was ever going to kiss her as well as he did. Softly, his tongue slid across the seam of her lips to get her to open further.

Harry knew she didn’t like lots of tongue in her kisses. Which was fine with Harry, a quick brush of her tongue against his was plenty and not the part he cared about much anyway. The way she sucked his lower lip into her mouth and traced it with her tongue nearly made him finish in his pants. Her lips were so sweet. Just like her. It was the most natural feeling in the world to kiss her. Like he kissed her yesterday, the day before, all last year, and every other day succeeding her departure. “God,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Hmm,” he hummed. His hands touched everywhere. Roamed along her sides and around her back, up her arms and cupped the sides of her neck. He wanted to touch her everywhere. It felt so good to hold her and the way she moaned made him assume she was enjoying it just as much. It had been ages since she had been touched and that was fine because she didn’t want anyone to touch her but Harry. His hands were warm and felt so good on her back. Even through her dress. Even though it was summer and very warm, she shivered and nuzzled closer. The car was too small and the space between them was too big. “Baby, can we—”

“Yes,” she whispered. It didn’t matter what he asked. She was a yes to anything he said. He groaned into her mouth and slid his hands between them, lifting the skirt of her dress just above her hips so everything was covered but easier to access.

“Kitten,” he moaned when she reached between them as well and fiddled with the button of his jeans. Why on earth would he have a condom? The thought of being with anyone else so intimately was laughable. “I don’t have—”

“I don’t care.”

He groaned again and kissed down the length of her neck, his tongue poking out to lick at the spots he kissed. She thought she was going to pass out, but she didn’t want to miss a second of this feeling. So, she refused to pass out. “I forgot,” he was breathless as he shifted trying to make space between them so he could pull his pants down just a little more, just enough. “Forgot how much I missed this.”

“What did you miss?” She whispered just as breathlessly, her lips against his neck as he reached between the two of them, slid his fingers against her underwear and pushed it to the side. She whimpered at the light friction of his knuckle barely grazing her clit even though it wasn’t his intention.

Harry’s moans were nearly obscene. They turned her to jelly. “I missed everything, kitten. Everything.”

She shivered again at his response. When she felt him lining himself up, pressing through her folds so easily because she was already an aching wet mess for him, she cried out again. The electric feeling coursed through her and it wasn’t fair that she made him lose this feeling for three years. “Oh,” she tucked her face into his neck.

“I’m... fuck, baby,” he whispered as the head of his cock slipped deeper inside her. He didn’t want to know if she had sex while he was gone. In his mind he was the only person that got to be inside her like this—to feel her like this. His voice was raspy. Not even a whisper really. “I’m not...” his other hand that wasn’t helping her slip further down on him cupped the back of her neck. “S’not going t’last...” He couldn’t even give a time frame because he was so far gone. “S’been...”

She didn’t want to know how long it had been for him. The idea he had sex with someone else would probably make her inconsolable while he was inside her and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. She shook her head and kissed the space just below his ear that used to drive him crazy. “I don’t mind,” she promised.

“God,” he closed his eyes and pressed his face to the front of her chest. Her dress was still in the way, but he wanted to rip it off her. He couldn’t because as much as he was enjoying this—and yes, he would have loved to feel her nipples in his mouth—he refused the risk of anyone seeing her naked like that. This was already bolder than anything they had ever done before—and the intimacy of seeing her fall apart was for him only. A possessive stance he would never let go of.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. It was too hot in the car; her skin was damp with sweat from pressing so close to Harry and the exertion of fitting in the small space between him and the steering wheel. She wanted nothing more than to stay glued to Harry like that, his dick deep inside her for as long as she lived. They really were two puzzle pieces just meant to fit together. For a brief moment she paused the way she was moving slowly up and down his cock; hoping that maybe she would just die in that car because at least this would be the last thing she ever did. Their breathing stilled, quieted. He tilted his neck back, smiled as he gazed up at her.

“You’re so beautiful, kitten,” he whispered.

It was embarrassing that she could come that quickly and that hard from just his compliment and he wasn’t even moving inside her.

She gasped so loudly. Her whines and moans releasing from her without warning. She felt distraught and whole. It was practically primal the way she started to bounce up and down again, only ever so slightly, her legs shaking to find purchase on the side of his seat near the door and dodging the seatbelt holder with her knee. It wasn’t conducive to do this here but what choice did they have when they couldn’t wait a second longer?

“Oh my God, fuck, kitten,” he groaned, wrapping his arms tight around her waist, kissing at her throat and the exposed cleavage he did have access too. He met her greedy little bounces to prolong the euphoria that was coursing through her, making her clench around his cock so hard he thought he was going to exist outside of his body. “Baby, I can’t pull out,” he warned her.

They were young, but not in high school young anymore. Getting pregnant wasn’t their worst fear anymore as it was their first go around leading to her going to the doctor and asking for birth control. In fact, getting pregnant probably didn’t even crack the top ten. But even still... “Pill,” she rasped. “Please,” she begged.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned. His hand slid beneath her dress. He pressed the tip of his finger directly on her clit and rubbed perfect little circles on it.

So perfectly, she was going to explode again. The fireworks had nothing on her. “Oh my God, please,” she cried. The plead, the feel of her squeezing around him again, the heat of her and the car... all of it was a heady combination that left Harry completely useless as he finished inside her at the exact moment that she dropped her face to his shoulder again and fluttered around him. As Harry finally released a breath, he had been holding for three years it seemed, he found she was still trying to squeeze her thighs around him to savor the pleasure. He couldn’t blame her. All he wanted to do was make her come over and over.

There were a lot of firsts they shared over their relationship, and Harry was so grateful to have another even after all the time between them. His body twitched as she stayed in place, her breathing finally slowing. Harry felt hot, too hot but didn’t dare remove her from his body. He held her to him as he shifted more, her bum bumped into the car horn. She giggled once and Harry smiled. His breathing slowed, following hers.

The car was silent except for their labored breathing. They were young when they had sex back then. They thought it was good back then. But it didn’t compare to that. She felt a wave of worry that he had practiced all while she was gone. The same worry went right through him nearly at the same time. Maybe she sensed it because he relieved her with one sentence. “I read an embarrassing number of books with scenes like the one we just reenacted.”

Harry sighed with relief; his nose pressed to her ear. His lips brushed her temple and he spoke quietly. “Send me every single page y’read, kitten.”

She giggled making her clench around him as he softened. He groaned involuntarily. He didn’t want to leave her body. Terrified it would never be like this again. As he started to move, she stopped him. “Um... Do you have a towel?” She whispered; her cheeks probably would have flushed asking the question, but it was impossible to tell with the endorphins that flooded her blood doing most of the work now.

Harry felt a little stupid at the moment, so he nodded, then shook his head. He didn’t fully understand her question but wanted to try for her.

“Uhh... here,” he reached in the backseat for a T-shirt with the station’s logo on it. As he shifted, she whimpered at the feeling of him moving inside her again. He kept a hand on her dress, right at her hip and rubbed his thumb soothingly against her.

“I can’t use this and then have you wear it around town,” she frowned.

“Baby,” he snickered. “I wouldn’t wear it... in public," he teased. She lightly hit his chest with the back of her hand.

She slowly pulled off him, falling back into the passenger seat, the T-shirt between her legs. She finger-combed her hair as best she could and checked her makeup for obvious smudges. Harry mussed with his hair quickly and then placed his hand on her knee. She held it with both hands, brought his fingers to her lips and kissed his knuckles no less than ten times.

“That was perfect,” she whispered.

Forget her writing, she was her very own poem. He smiled. “Always, kitten.”

*

Harry took the long way back to her apartment. Her grip didn’t loosen around his hand. Not even when he needed to take a turn. When he finally parked, she looked at him expectantly. “I don’t want t’go,” he whispered. “I would quit right now, if I could. I want t’talk all night and tell y’everything and know everything, kitten. M’so...” he shook his head terrified that if he left right now all the progress, everything would be gone. “I missed you so completely baby. I need t’know everything there is t’know ‘bout you and the last three years and all the thoughts y’had. S’not fair and m’so—”

“Harry,” she smiled, squeezed his hand encouragingly. She brought a hand to his chin and rested her forehead against his. “I’ll see you tomorrow; right after your shift, okay?” she kissed him gently on the lips. A soft brush of promising more.

Relief flooded him. “Yeah?” Their mouths were so close as he spoke, his lips touched hers the entire time.

“I’ll be here,” she promised. That little saying, “it was music to his ears,” never really made much sense to him. But right then it did. It made so much sense. She was music. She was the sun. She was fireworks. “Good night, Harry. Have a good shift,” she whispered and pressed her lips solidly against his once more making him feel like he could do anything.

--

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[pinkmoonastro]

💰 Easiest Placements for wealth 💰

Creativity manifested into materials. These placements help creating abundance be more of a second nature. Rather through mentorship or investing time into particular interest.

Jupiter in the 2nd House

Mark Zuckerberg, Jay Z, Bill Gates, Selena Gomez, Madonna, Lee Van Cleef, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, William Shakespeare, Kylie Jenner, Julia Roberts, Donald Trump, Shakira, Justin Timberlake, Katy Perry, Celine Dion, Ivana Trump, Zendaya, Steve Ballmer (mircosoft)

Jupiter in the 8th House

Coco Chanel, Drake, Micheal Jackson, Tiger Woods, John F Kennedy, Joe Biden, Gigi Hadid, Janet Jackson, Al Capone, LeBron James, Pierre Balmain, Pink, Snoop Dogg, Ray Charles, Jennifer Lawrence. Naomi Campbell, Ellen DeGeneres, Eleanor Roosevelt, Ashanti, Mr Beast

Pluto in the 2nd House

Robert Downey Jr., Lauryn Hill, Cher, Robert Deniro, Johnny Depp, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Marilyn Manson, Michael B. Jordan, Usher, Bill Gates, Ari Fletcher, Phil Knight (nike)

Moon in the 2nd House

Elon Musk, Princess Diana, Pablo Escobar, Lee Iacocca, Blueface, Miuccia Prada, Lauren London, Drew Barrymore, Julia Roberts, Avril Lavigne, NBA Youngboy, Coco Chanel, Beyonce, AR AB, Raven Symone, Demi Moore, Kai Cenat, SZA, Kendall Jenner

Do you have any of these placements?