#maybe some dogs. i think harry needs dogs and deserves them

[greenerteacups]

thoughts on Ginny and Harry as a couple?

There are a lot of people who find their romance in HBP forced. I don't think it's forced so much as underwritten, and the books don't get the chemistry quite right (though the movies certainly don't, either). There's potential, but they just don't get enough actual scenes of substance (besides Harry thinking she's pretty or feeling jealous of Dean) for a lot of readers to buy that they're not only in love, but deeply enough in love to break up, get back together, and wind up married.

That's not to say I don't see the appeal. There's a very cool scene in Book 5 where Harry's doing a woe-is-me-Chosen-One act, and Ginny effortlessly puts him in his place about it by reminding him that she was possessed by Voldemort at eleven, which is a rare glimpse into her character and also a great synecdoche for their relationship — Ginny is a grounding presence who, like Ron and Hermione, isn't going to be awed by his past adventures because she knew him before they happened. In that respect, Ginny's probably one of the few women Harry could feasibly wind up with, because he only ever seems comfortable around people (let alone girls) who can see past the Chosen-One schtick and treat him like a normo (see: Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, Luna, Hagrid). True to type, he doesn't get interested in Ginny at all until she's ditched her celebrity crush and ceased to view him as an idol, because in his heart of hearts, Harry wants to be a normal boy, and it's stressed over and over that part of what he likes about his relationship with Ginny is how normal it feels. He kind of has a horribly supercharged version the celebrity dating problem: after the Battle of Hogwarts, anyone he meets is going to know him first as Harry Potter, Chosen One, Boy Who Lived, and Actually Fucking Resurrected Messiah of the Wizarding World, which is... I mean, it's possible that there are witches out there who could get over that, but Harry's not an extroverted guy, and I'm not sure how he'd go about finding them. Ginny's the one who's been there since the beginning, doesn't need anything about him or his past explained to her, and actually likes him for who he is.

When you look at it that way, it's not surprising he married his high school girlfriend. She's one of the few people still alive who doesn't see him as a demigod.

[ghoststyles]

Fairway to Heaven - Part 6

WC: 8.8K

Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

_________________________________________________________________

Instead of hurt, betrayal or disgust, Briar feels heartbroken. Heartbroken Harry had to endure that. She moves closer, embracing him in a hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he violently cries into her shoulder. She rubs circles on his back, letting him get out his upset and frustration. 

“You didn’t deserve that. At all,” Briar says softly. Harry nods, just thankful she’s not upset at him. It took him years of therapy to be able to openly speak about his situation. 

“Do you know his name?”

“Oliver,” Harry rasps. 

“That’s beautiful. I bet he looks so much like you. I bet he has your kind eyes. Your charm. Your ability to make anyone feel special. I bet he’s clumsy like you. And I bet he’d like to meet you, too,” Briar says slowly. 

Harry cries harder, the sobs wracking his body.

They sit there for over an hour before Harry finally calms down. He musters up the courage to look at her. His eyes are so puffy and red, and snot is dripping from his nose.

“I understand if you’re upset with me, and if you never want to see me again,” he sighs in defeat. 

“Harry, look at me,” Briar grabs his face and runs her thumb along his cheek. “I’m absolutely not mad. I wouldn’t wish this situation on anyone. I want to help you deal with this, whatever way you need to.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I think I want to sleep for a while.” 

“Of course, let’s go up.”

~

“Harry, baby. Wake up,” Briar whispers, gently waking Harry from his sleep. It’s well past 11AM. She called Niall to let him know Harry isn’t feeling well. 

Harry stirs, the memories of last night flooding his mind. He’s not even sure if he slept. Briar runs her finger nails along his back, gently soothing him.

“I called us both out of work today, so we’re going to spend it how you want to.”

Harry exhales. He can’t even think of the last time he took a day off. Or the last time he had a panic attack. The two probably coincide.

When Camille left him, he buried himself in work. He quickly rose to the top as an associate, eventually becoming a manager. Now that his predecessors are retiring, Harry sometimes works from 6AM until 8PM. Even on Christmas Day. 

He takes some labored deep breaths.

“Can we go get breakfast?” 

Briar scrunches her eyebrows, not expecting his answer.

“Of course. Take your time getting dressed.” 

Briar leaves the room, already having been up and dressed for hours. She tossed and turned wondering how anyone could treat him that way. Harry loves so strongly and so deeply. She already knows he’d be an incredible father, based on his love for Gus. But, she didn’t know him in his 20’s and 30’s. Maybe he wasn’t as mature as he his now.

Her heart broke again watching him sleep. He looked sad, even when unconscious.

Harry eventually comes downstairs, slowly and solemnly. He pets Gus, reveling in his fluff. He is truly their emotional support dog.

“C-can we go to this place to get a full English? You’ve had it before, right?”

“Yes, when I went to London in high school. Will you eat my beans?”

Harry laughs softly, “Yes, I’ll eat your beans.”

She guides him out to her car, knowing he’s probably not in a state to drive. She’s too nervous to drive his nice car. It’s a beautiful day, so she took the top of her jeep off. She can’t wait to see his hair flying in the wind.

They pull up to his requested breakfast spot. The parking lot is a little deserted. She is relieved, because if he needs to cry a little he can do so without judgement.

The waitress greets them with a chipper tone, but quickly adjusts based on their sad demeanor. Briar orders them both a coffee and full English breakfasts. 

They sit in silence for a while.

“I know I don’t know her, but, should you call your mom? Is this something you’d talk to her about?” 

“I did in the beginning; my sister, too. But then it just became a cycle of discussing the same thing over and over. So I just stopped bringing it up.”

Briar nods, knowing the feeling. After her dad died, she was enrolled in therapy. As a 6 year old, she didn’t have much else to talk about. 

“I saw a therapist for a while. I was a little unwilling to talk about any of my other issues, so after a while they just gave me a prescription and sent me on my way. I felt like I got kicked out.” 

Briar grabs his hand across the table, squeezing it. “That’s the tough part of it; they give you the tools and you’re supposed to just figure out how to use them. There were so many times I just wished my therapist had told me what to do and what to say.”

Harry hums. The food arrives a few minutes later. He gently breaks his egg yolk, “I’d really like you to meet my mum and sister.”

She smiles, “Aw, yes, I’d love to. It didn’t even cross my mind since you met mine so early on. Well, not my mom, I guess.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” He asks, happy to move onto a different topic.

Briar blows air out of her mouth as she tries to recall the last time she saw her mother. 

“Christmas, I guess.” 

“Can I meet her? Or do you just want to wait until it happens organically?” 

“No, no. I should call her soon, anyway. I’ll try and set something up,” Briar says, pushing her food around. She supposes they're both facing their demons head-on today. “Do you mind if my brothers come? They usually need to be coerced into seeing her.”

“Of course not. Whatever is most comfortable for you guys.” 

They eat in silence, only speaking up when the waitress returns to the table every so often.

“I send him birthday cards,” Harry says, staring at his hands.

Briar lifts her head, giving him a look to continue his thought.

“Every year around Christmas time. I’m not even really sure when his birthday is. I’ve never written a note, or anything. I just sign my name ‘Harry’. For all I know, she’s never even told him about me. Or even given him the cards.”

Briar’s sadness returns, evident in her facial expression. 

“H-have you tried contacting your mutual friend? The one that introduced you?”

“I did, years ago. Everything was kind of fresh at that point, and I definitely think he took sides. I’m pretty sure they’re together now. His parents own an art gallery and are involved in high-society over there,” he coughs. “I just look  like a schmuck in comparison. The craziest part of it all, I don’t know what I did to deserve no contact. I’m scared I’ll die never knowing.” 

Briar closes her eyes, willing herself not to cry, “Did you ever fly to France to try and find her? Or her family?” 

“I did. Once. I’d say about 6 months later. I drank whiskey the entire flight to Paris. I didn’t even have any luggage with me. I just marched off the plane and went to where I last knew she lived. I should’ve known her keeping her Paris apartment meant something.” 

“You couldn’t have known,” Briar says softly. 

“I knocked on the door. She opened it so quickly. I think she was expecting someone else. Her jaw dropped, and she tried to close the door on me. I was able to get inside, but she started throwing bottles at me. Then she threatened to get a restraining order against me. She was really showing at that point, so I didn’t want it the police to get involved.” 

Briar is horrified the more he tells her. 

“I went home to my mum’s for a while. Then flew back to the US and just went back to work. I can’t say I’ve done anything substantial since then.” 

“Oh, stop. You renovated a gorgeous house. You started going back to Wynnewood. You’ve become your own boss,” Briar rattles off his accomplishments.

“I just thought I’d be married by now,” Harry chokes up a bit. She moves to his side of the table, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“I know this is ironic coming from a 23 year old; but, there’s no timeline on life, baby. You faced adversity and are moving on from it. That takes a lot of courage.” 

Harry chuckles, wiping away a stray tear. Briar is so emotionally intelligent for a 23 year old. 

They leave the café, opting to go back to Harry’s house. They grab books from his shelf and read them outside on his comfy lounge chair under the cabana, hoping the sunshine heals them both. Harry eventually dozes off, finally achieving deep sleep after a rocky 24 hours. 

Briar massages his head, twirling his curls in between her fingers. As much as she wants to comfort him, she can’t help her tendencies to meddle. 

She visits Niall’s Instagram, immediately checking his following list. She scrolls, closely examining every profile to find even a tiny breadcrumb that could lead her to Camille. Harry never said her last name, so she’ll have to pull out the big guns of internet stalking.

Nothing stands out tremendously; He doesn’t follow many people. Just a few OnlyFans models, golf companies and Barstool Sports. She spots a familiar name, Lydia…Where does she know that name from?

Briar’s thumb gives one last ditch effort scroll, when she lands on an account: @Fingermonkey

She clicks on it, and her heart immediately stops. Camille. The woman who made her boyfriend lose sight of who he was. The account is public, so she cautiously proceeds. 

She’s a striking woman; she can see why Harry fell for her. She exudes beauty and class. It’s almost palpable.

Briar shudders, unsure if she should continue. She’s on her page for selfish reasons; to see Harry’s son. Her curiosity gets the best of her. She scrolls some more, before stopping at a photo of a tiny hand. Briar bites her lip, staring back down at Harry.

“No going back,” she whispers to herself.

After another few scrolls, she finds what she’s looking for. It’s from around 5 years ago. Camille is holding a tiny boy with dark brown curls and green eyes, bright as day. They’re on the swings, bright smiles adorning their faces. 

Briar feels like she’s been sucker punched in the stomach. He’s a beautiful little boy. A boy Harry never even got the chance to love and help raise. She takes several deep breaths and scrolls back even further to 8 years prior. 

Another blow. The engagement photos.

Briar winces, zooming in. They seem to be taken in California, just as the sun is setting. Camille is holding Harry’s face as she kisses him, the ring being the main focal point. She reads the caption:

J'ai trouvé mon éternité.

I found my forever.

She clicks off Camille’s page, rolling her eyes. She clears the search history, knowing she’s been caught stalking in the past.

Briar has so many questions. 

Does she want Harry to find her? Why is Niall still following her? 

~

Briar is physically at Wynnewood, but mentally elsewhere. After her stalking session, Harry woke up feeling better, so they decided she should go home. As much as he loves her company, he always needs alone time to process things. She was happy to oblige, needing her own time to breathe.

Briar is taking inventory after her shift when she spots Niall on the practice green. A lump forms in her throat, but she knows she needs to confide in him. He smiles, waving her over. 

“Hey, Briar. I heard about the other day. I was up in the clubhouse already when everything went down. How’re you doing?” He asks, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m good, thanks for asking. Everything was taken care of, so I just needed some time to shake it off.” 

He nods, fiddling with his putter. Niall looks around, not really sure what else to say.

“Hey, Niall, can I ask you something?”

His eyes go wide, clearing his throat, “Listen, if it’s about Lydia and I…”

Finally, it clicks. Lydia from the party. Lydia who told her she’s also dating someone from the club. Briar gasps, “I, uh, what?” 

“Fuck.”

Briar crosses her arms in front of herself, “Um, I was just going to tell you that Harry told me about Camille, and about the baby.”

“Fuuuuck,” Niall scratches the back of his head. “Can you ignore what I said before?”

Briar laughs, “For now. We can talk about that later. I just wanted to see if you had other insight. It was obviously a very emotionally charged conversation.”

“Yeah. Are you off now? Do you want to go inside for a drink?”

She nods and waits for him to clean up his stuff. They walk back to the clubhouse in silence, so Briar grabs a table outside while Niall changes in the locker room. The club is empty enough, so she’s not worried about members seeing them together.

He sits down, sighing, “I-I don’t really know how to proceed. Do you just want to tell me what he’s told you?”

“Sure,” she says quietly. Briar begins filling him in about their dinner at Ashmont and Jonathan revealing more than Harry was willing to share. Her heart races as she shares more details.

“That’s tough, darling. I know he was going to tell you eventually. The situation absolutely wrecked him. It took years to feel like I had my friend back.” 

She nods, biting her lip, staring down at her shoes. Harry bought her a pair of lavender and white New Balances; her initials stitched in the tongue. 

“You’re a very rational person, even at your age,” he smiles, leaning to put his elbows on his knees. “So, I know you’ll both work through it. But, what are your feelings?”

Briar sucks in a breath. “I’m not angry, and I want to support him, of course. But, I can’t help but have this sinking feeling in my stomach. I did some Instagram stalking.”

“You found Camille on there?”

“Yeah, through your account,” she waits for Niall to look back up at her.

He meets her eyes, “I keep a distance. I don’t speak to her or our mutual friends from study abroad. But I like to keep tabs. He’s my mate and I want to protect him.” 

Briar nods, picking the skin at her cuticles. 

“He’s a cute kid, isn’t he?” Niall smiles. 

“Yeah, he is. Harry didn’t deserve that. At all,” she says, sitting back in her seat. “Should I meddle? Or just stay out of it?”

“I would hate to see this kid get any older without meeting his father. And, if you think you’ll be,” he trails off, smiling to himself. “Sticking around for a while, I think you have the influence on him to face it head on.”

“I hope I’ll be sticking around for a while,” she smiles.

~

Briar feels slightly better after talking to Niall. She has to remember to ask Harry if he knew about Lydia. 

Briar was in need of some cathartic release. If Harry was willing to face this obstacle, she’s willing to face hers. She sits in the driver’s seat of her Jeep and scrolls her list of contacts before landing on Catherine Barlowe. 

She dials, going through several cycles before finally being answered on the final ring. 

“Hi, Bri. How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hi, Mom. I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m so good, honey. I’m so happy to hear from you. Dean and I are actually getting ready to move in a few weeks.”

“Oh? Where are you going?” Briar scrunches her eyebrows. That means her mom is selling the house she bought with her dad. The house she lived her first 9 years in before her mother’s addiction led to the 5 of them being placed with her aunt and uncle. 

“I thought your brother may have told you. We’re going to California, honey.”

“Who? I thought the last time we all saw you was at Christmas time? And why California?” 

“Jasper. He comes to see me. A lot more recently. The other boys only contact me when you do. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from Welles on his own,” Catherine sighs. “Dean is from California. He has young daughters, so we’re moving there to be closer to them. You remember? I told you about them.”

Tears begin welling in Briar’s eyes. Her mother, now 4 years sober and remarried gets to go play house with Dean’s young children. Instead of tending to her own.

“Yeah, I remember. There’s three of them, right? But they weren’t at the wedding,” Briar says quietly, remembering the rushed ceremony that took place the week after they finished their program together. Welles was furious, Jasper and Callum didn’t say a word, and Cormac cried the entire time. Patrick couldn’t bear to go. Meredith went in support of the siblings. 

“Yes, he didn’t have custody rights at the time. But, that’s all settled now. We’re so happy, Bri.”

“I’m glad, Mom. Listen, I have to go, but I wanted to see if you’d be interested in going out to lunch soon. I’d like you to meet my boyfriend,” she rasps out.

“That sounds great, honey. Just text me the details. Talk soon.”

“Bye,” Briar chokes, throwing her phone into the passenger seat. She takes a few deep breaths to regulate her breathing. The tears continue to fall as she pulls out of the parking lot of Wynnewood. 

Her phone begins to buzz, seeing Harry’s contact photo pop up.

“Hi,” she says solemnly before placing the phone between her shoulder and ear. 

“Hi, Birdie. Are you okay?” He asks, sensing her tone.

“Yeah, yep, I’m good. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I figured you’re leaving Wynnewood. Was gonna see if you want to grab Gus and come over. I can make us dinner.”

“Um, I’m kind of tired. Think I’m just gonna go home, if that’s alright.”

“No, yeah, of course, love. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I promise. I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay,” he says softly. “Bye.”

She hangs up, not even bothering to say bye. Briar knows she shouldn’t take it out on Harry, but she’s struggling to hold herself together. She hears a crack of thunder before feeling thick rain drops hit her face.

“Fuck!” 

Briar never put her Wrangler’s roof back on the other day. The droplets get more intense as she nears her apartment. Pulling into her spot, she frantically runs to her storage area to grab her roof parts. 

It’s down pouring now, but she charges forward with her parts, lining them against the car. Her biceps are burning trying to lift the piece on top of the car. Tears are starting to roll down her face, her hair beginning to stick to her neck.

Briar squeezes her eyes closed, defeated as she feels two arms wrap around her. She whips her head around, startled by her boyfriend. 

“What’s going on, love? Let me help,” Harry says, pulling her down from the step of her Jeep. She steps to the side under her apartment’s overhang, watching him effortlessly put the roof of her Jeep back together. He’s absolutely soaked, his gray sweatpants now a charcoal color. She watches the way his back muscles move under his white t-shirt. 

He fastens the parts from the inside of the car before grabbing her backpack in one hand, and her hand in the other. He guides her to her apartment while fumbling with her keys. Gus greets them at the door, unsure who to go to first. 

Harry sits Briar down on her ottoman before grabbing the fuzzy blanket from her sofa.

“What’s going on? I’m a little scared,” Harry says, his eyes full of concern. 

She takes a shaky breath before sobs take over her whole body. She folds in on herself, burrowing into the blanket.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she wails. Harry is stunned, unsure what she’s apologizing for.

“I should be supporting you and here I am getting so overwhelmed and then trying to deal with my own bullshit,” Briar cries. He places his hand gently on her back.

“Baby, I’m lost. Did something happen today?”

“I called my mom. She’s moving to California to raise her new husband’s kids,” Briar cries, snot pouring from her nose. “I should’ve fucking known. I don’t even know why I called.”

Harry can’t help but feel a little guilty. He mentioned it at their breakfast to get himself out of the hot seat. She took his bait. 

“And because I can’t stop meddling, I looked up Camille online,” she confesses. “I even talked to Niall about it all.” 

Harry freezes. He figured she would confide in Niall. But he didn’t think she’d look Camille up. He’s too afraid to ask what she found. 

Harry guides her to sit up. He grabs her cheeks with one hand and makes her face him, “Hey. Hey. I need you to breathe, Briar.”

Briar cries harder at his use of her name. She can feel herself start to hyperventilate. He wraps himself around her tight. He holds her until she stops shaking. Gus has brought them 5 of his toys to try and lighten the mood. 

“Gus, go to your bed,” Harry commands, voice deep. Briar flinches. 

She lifts her head, taking in a deep breath.

“I hurt my own feelings today. I went looking for information I shouldn’t’ve,” she admits quietly.

“I think we all do that sometimes. Which part do you want to talk about first?”

Briar loves how diplomatic Harry is. Even when they have their spats, he always makes her feel like an equal partner. She also loves when he completely dominates her in the bed right after.

“W-we can talk about my mom,” she says, assuming that’s the easier of the two. “Her husband has 3 young daughters. So, now my mom gets a do-over. Poof. Our family is just out of the picture.”

Harry sighs. His father did something similar after his parents divorced. It stung for years, and took time to mend. Now they’re very close. 

“That’s awful, Birdie. I’m so sorry. Are you going to see her before she leaves?”

She nods, wiping her nose on his chest, “Yeah, told her about you. Apparently my brother has been visiting her in secret. I’m so angry.”

He smiles lightly, “I’m happy to come along. Or not. Whichever makes you more comfortable. Don’t hold it against him. You all have to deal with things differently.”

“Thank you,” she says.

“Of course, baby. Now, do you want to tell me about the other situation?”

“Only if you want to. I crossed a line,” she starts to cry again.

She wraps her hand within his, squeezing tightly. Comfortable silence is usually never an issue for them, but the tension could be cut with a knife. 

“Well, social media is public information, baby. I could’ve done it years ago, but never did.”

“I saw him,” Briar blurts out. It was now or never.

Harry closes his eyes, feeling nauseous. He takes a deep breath through his nostrils, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s gorgeous, Harry. Really,” she sniffles. “You shouldn’t give up. She’s wrong for what she did. And I want to help you fight for this.”

He can’t help but feel his heart swell with pride. His tough girl is ready to sit in the trenches with him. To fight the biggest demon holding him back from his happiness.

“I wrote a letter years ago,” Harry starts. “Let’s send it.”

Briar gasps, sitting up to face him, “I don’t want you to feel pressured by me.”

“I’m not. I’m not sure if this is too soon, but I already know I want to keep you around for a long, long time. This will help me get over my last hurdle.”

Briar cradles his face, kissing him gently.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

They huddle together.

Briar starts to snicker, “Did you have any idea that Niall and Lydia, the server from the club, are dating?”

Harry’s head shoots up, “Huh?” 

“Okay, good. I would’ve been pissed if you hid that from me."

“How’d you find out?”

Briar laughs, “I said, ‘Hey, Niall, can I ask you something?’ And he confessed immediately.” 

Harry throws his head back laughing.

~

Harry is in his study, silently reading his letter from years ago. His tears are falling onto the paper, dotting and blurring the ink. He was 32 when he wrote this. It sounds old, but he was a kid. It was hard to keep him at home. He had access to disposable income, so he used it to its fullest.

Camille lived a simple life, finding pleasure in gardening, reading and going to cafés. Her job always came first, which kept her busy traveling around the world. Harry was restless; always chasing the next big thing, and partying until his body physically shut down. 

It didn’t help that he was a touchy person. Even though Camille had his whole heart, he shamelessly flirted with other women. He let them hang on him at bars, on yachts, and anywhere he could get attention. People in their circle talk; leaving Harry in the hot seat more than once.

He’d be naïve to blame it on Camille’s attachment style. She was generally cold, not showing him much affection. But, nonetheless he pursued her, absolutely enamored by her beauty and grace. 

He was dumb enough to suggest an open relationship one time; about 6 years into the relationship. His needs in bed became too much for Camille. She didn’t understand his need to get off and dominate her. He slept at a hotel every night that week. She gave him an out, but he couldn’t take it. 

When Camille left, he started hooking up with women more regularly. His heart hurt so bad, but he was finally getting his physical needs met. None of them lasted, until Briar. 

Over the course of 8 years, his heart slowly healed. It’s not ideal that Briar is so much younger, and an employee of his country club. There’s a strange power dynamic there. He loved how flustered she got when he looked at her; she still does sometimes, but he can feel the difference. 

They bring encourage each other’s confidence. They drive each other to be a better version of themselves. They feed each other’s deepest desires; scratching every itch that had been culminating over several years. 

Harry begins rewriting the letter; changing the tone from blinding rage, to one of neutrality. He wishes her well. He hopes she’s healed.

From what? He’s not sure. He hopes she understands his point of view, and will consider letting Harry meet his child. He’d do anything at this point. 

He seals up the letter, addressing it to Camille. Not even sure she still lives at this address, he walks it out to his mailbox anyway, lifting the red flag to signal the post man. 

He feels weight lift from his chest that had been there since the day he met Camille.

~

Briar and Harry are sitting at a nice restaurant on the water. She sips gingerly at her mojito while they wait for her mother to arrive. Briar extended the invite to her brothers, but received radio silence from them all. 

She’s anxiously bouncing her leg, to which Harry firmly grasps her thigh as he locks his jaw. She inhales sharply, closing her eyes. After the emotional turmoil they’ve experienced over the last few weeks, their sex life has toned down immensely. She misses his hand around her neck and his dirty whispers. 

“Relax. I’m right here,” Harry whispers in her ear lowly.

Briar gasps when three of her brothers appear from the restaurant’s entryway. Jasper must’ve picked up Callum and Cormac from Patrick’s.

Briar stands to hug her older brothers, while Harry pulls Cormac in for a hug.

“Where’s Welles?”

“Not sure. I haven’t heard from him,” Callum says simply. 

She rolls her eyes. He’s 28, but he is the most immature out of all of them. 

They sit, easing into a conversation with Harry. She’s grateful she can entertain them while she’s somewhere else in her head. He reaches over to lock pinkies. 

Her mother walks in, looking stunning. That’s one thing that Briar has always been jealous of. It’s why her addiction flew under the radar for so long. She was always put together and exuding happiness. But in secret, she was struggling. 

Her strawberry blonde hair is longer than when she saw her last, loose waves falling over her shoulders. She’s in a floor length floral gown, a sweater over her shoulders to fight the chill of the restaurant. 

She spots them after speaking with the hostess, her smile lighting up the room. 

“Hi, my babies!”

Jasper stands to greet her, while her other brothers hold in a groan. She walks around the circular table to press a kiss to Briar’s head, before turning her attention to Harry.

“And who’s this? Don’t think I popped him out,” she laughs, waiting for Harry to stand up.

“Mom, seriously?” Briar grimaces. 

“Hi, I’m Harry. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Harry says smiling, pulling out the chair for her. 

“Pleasure is all mine, Harry. I’m Catherine. Isn’t my daughter incredible?”

Harry smiles, nodding. He can sense Briar’s discomfort. He assumes this praise is just for show. 

Her mother brings up every topic under the sun, effectively avoiding topics regarding Briar’s father, the move, and her new husband.

They eat, letting Cormac talk about school, Callum talk about grad school and his new girlfriend, and Jasper about his new job. Briar realizes she’s done a shit job at talking to her brothers lately. She doesn’t know any of this.

“Where’s Wellie, Briar? Didn’t you invite him?”

“I did. Didn’t hear from him.”

“It would’ve been nice for you to follow up with him,” Catherine snipes. “It’s not everyday I get to see all five of you.”

“Really? How about you? When was the last time you talked to him?” Briar crosses her arms at her mother.

“It doesn’t matter. This is family time,” Catherine raises her eyebrows, waiting for Briar to snap.

“You know all about that, don’t you mom? Just counting down the minutes until you can go play house with Dean’s kids in California.”

Callum and Cormac look between the two women, stunned. Jasper’s eyes widen.

“California?” Callum questions. “Mom, what is she talking about?”

Catherine looks around, “I thought Jasper would’ve filled you all in. I’m moving to California with Dean to be closer to his kids. They’re younger.”

Jasper looks down, pushing the vegetables around on his plate. Callum shakes his head, throwing his napkin on the table before storming off. Cormac starts to cry, to which Harry puts a hand on his back. 

“Mom, how can you leave?” Cormac asks, his lip quivering. 

“Baby, you’re all adults. You don’t need me anymore.”

“I’m only 17, Mom,” Cormac chokes. 

Briar has tears streaking down her face. Briar hasn’t needed her mother since she was 12 years old, hoping and praying for her to come back. Cormac barely knew her; only fantasizing what their relationship could’ve been. 

Harry pays the bill before suggesting Catherine leaves. She nods, standing to grab her purse. She silently looks each of her children in the eye before walking out of the restaurant. 

“I’m sorry, Bri. I thought she changed,” Jasper says solemnly. 

“It’s okay. You deserve to handle your relationship with her however you want.”

Harry and Briar walk out hand in hand after spending 20 minutes consoling her brothers. 

They climb into Harry’s car, silently staring ahead. Harry grabs her hand again.

“That was rough, pup. I’m sorry,” Harry says softly.

“Can we just go home? I miss you, Daddy.”

Harry clears his throat as his cock twitches.

“You have me, Birdie. Let’s go home.”

~

“Be rough with me,” Briar pleads from the bed. “I want it so bad.”

Harry chuckles as he pulls his belt from the loops on his pants. She’s completely bare, her wrists fastened to each corner of the bed. He opts to leave her feet out of the restraints, hoping he can toss her around a bit. 

“Daddy’s been taking it easy on his Birdie for the last couple weeks,” Harry says, trailing his knuckle along her rib cage. She keens, shivering from the light touch. “But don’t think I forgot about your stunt at Ashmont.”

Briar freezes, remembering their escapades. She taunted him, removing her panties in the stall, waiting for him to come after her. It’s a shame the night turned into a disaster soon after. She whines, not sure what else to do.

“Hm? Remember that, Birdie? Words,” he stares straight into her eyes.

“Yes, Daddy. I was naughty,” she bites her lip. 

He doesn’t like that. He shoves his middle and ring fingers into her mouth, choking her a little. “Leave that lip alone. I bite that.”

She purrs around his digits, goosebumps rising on her skin. He removes them from her mouth before sticking them at her core. He barely grazes her folds, seeing how she’ll react. She jerks around, slightly moving her pelvis to meet his hand. 

“Ah, ah. No. You’ll be taken care of how I decide.” 

She nods, swallowing thickly. She’s eating up everything he throws at her.

“Think I’m gonna take my time tonight,” Harry let’s out an exaggerated sigh. Briar whines, pushing her face into her shoulder. “Mm-mm. None of that.” 

Harry pushes Briar’s legs in the air, holding her ankles together, so the lips of her vagina are peaking out between her thighs. He growls at the sight.

“This little pussy is so used to getting what she wants. What does she want tonight, Birdie?”

“Your mouth, Daddy! Please!” Briar balls her fists, wiggling slightly.

Harry spits, watching the liquid drip down her thighs and cunt, “Nah, I’m good.”

Briar’s jaw locks in frustration. She watches as he walks to his closet grabbing her plug and vibrator. He generously applies lube to the plug, gently circling her ass. Briar closes her eyes, laying her head back. 

He gently pushes the plug in past the tight muscle, moving it in and out a little. 

“Oh my godddd,” Briar exhales. Her chest is rising and dropping fast. 

“I think tonight’s the night, baby.”

Briar whines, half out of horniness and the other out of nervousness. He flicks the vibrator on, pressing it firmly on her clit. She throws her head to the side. 

“Look at me. Don’t look over there,” Harry threatens, increasing the speed. 

She wills her eyes open, staring into his, her mouth opening slightly. The tension is building in her pelvis. She’s sure to come once he starts circling the vibrator on her clit; his signature move. Within seconds of him doing that, she’s crumbling. 

Harry shuts off the vibrator and adjusts her leg position so her legs are open wide, one resting on his shoulder.

“Wanna see your pretty face when I fuck your ass,” He says, peppering kisses on her face and neck.

“Please,” Briar whispers. 

Harry reaches between them and pulls the plug out and tosses it on the floor. He’ll clean it later. He extends his hand to rest in front of her face. 

“Spit.”

She spits on his fingertips, a line of spit connecting them to her lips. He lowers his hand to lightly touch her hole before inserting his middle finger. Briar groans, pulling on her restraints. He quickly inserts another, rocking them in and out of her gently. 

Harry’s cock is neglected, standing tall and proud, nearly touching the tip to his torso. Briar begins to panic, unsure if his girth will fit in there.

“Relax, baby. I got you. Do you remember your word?” He says, petting her cheek.

“Bogey,” she says softly. 

“Good girl,” he kisses her again. Harry has never withheld kisses, even in her worst punishments. “One more and then we’ll go for it, okay?”

“Mhm,” she nods, a single tear escaping her eye. She trusts her boyfriend with her entire being, but her heart rate is skyrocketing. 

The third digit enters her, eliciting a whine. Harry flexes his fingers, giving her a delicious stretch. A thick layer of sweat has formed behind her knees and on her forehead. 

Harry kisses her forehead, licking the saltiness from his lips, “All good, Birdie. Doing so well for me.”

After a few more minutes of stretching her out, Harry pulls his fingers out and lowers himself to be eye level with her ass. He licks a long stripe over the now open hole. Briar shivers, pulling on the restraints.

Harry rises from his spot on the bed to pull his underwear all the way off, his cock bobbing as he moves. He grips his length firmly, giving himself a few generous pumps. He kneels over her, undoing her right hand’s restraint. She looks at him curiously, but understands when he entwines their hands. 

He uses his right hand to line himself up at her delicate center. Briar sucks in a breath in anticipation. Harry presses the bulbous head of his dick in, groaning as he moves. His pace is painstaking, taking in every facial expression from the angel below him. 

“Such a good girl. Letting Daddy be the only one to fuck this little hole,” he pants, nostrils flaring. His forehead is starting to drip with sweat.

“Only you,” she whines as he pushes in little by little.

“Let me know if you need me to stop and take a break, lovie.”

She furiously shakes her head, still holding in a breath. Harry is finally working his way up to full thrusts.

“Breathe with me,” Harry pleads. “1,2,3, exhale.”

Briar feels high. That breath sent her senses all the way to her pussy.

“Daddy,” Briar breathes heavily. 

“What do you need, baby?”

“Fingers. I-In my pussy,” she cries. “Please.” 

“Okay, baby. I know y’empty in there,” he smiles down at her lovingly as he untangles their fingers so he can stick them inside. “So wet f’me.”

The sensations are too much once he starts petting her g-spot with his fingers.

“Coming, Daddy,” she babbles.

“Go ahead, Birdie. So fucking proud of you.”

She squeezes her eyes closed, letting out a cry of relief as she hits her wall. 

Harry chuckles at her babbling. She is fucked out to high heaven. He wants one more out of her before he comes. He alternates thrusting into her ass and fingering her pussy. He releases her other hand from the restraint. She’s too distracted, so her hand remains in the same spot.

“Rub your little clit, baby. One more f’me.”

“Ugggghnnnn,” Briar whines, drool coming out of her mouth. She circles her clit three more times before she’s clenching hard on his fingers and cock.

The squeeze of her ass pushes Harry into his own orgasm, a ringing forming in his ear. He gives two last lazy thrusts, emptying himself into her. He closes his eyes and hangs his head low before slowly pulling out.

Briar squawks, so he shushes her gently. Harry could come again at the sight in front of him. His come is leaking out of her ass hole, dripping onto the sheets below. He picks some up with his finger, smearing it on her pussy. She mewls, her head lolling to the side. 

“So fucking good for me. Gorgeous, baby.”

Harry takes a mental image before hustling to the bathroom. He starts the bath, making sure to throw some epsom salt and lavender oil in there. He wets a towel with warm water for Briar, and throws two towels into his towel warmer. 

He reenters the bedroom to find his girl curled up, her back to him. He runs his knuckles down her protruding spine. Harry gently dabs the towel along her labias and ass to clean up.

“Birdie, I ran us a bath. Gonna lift you,” Harry coos. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at him with moony eyes.

Harry lifts her from her armpits and knees, and swiftly carries her to the tub. Her eyes are shut, but she rests her head on his chest. He’s become a pro at maneuvering themselves into the tub.

Harry positions Briar at the front of the tub, before finding his seat at the back. He leans forward to pull her body to his chest. Harry closes his eyes and rolls his neck along the edge of the porcelain tub, listening to their uneven breaths.

He plays with Briar’s hair; twirling the long pieces between his fingers. She hasn’t said a word, but he knows she’s elsewhere right now. He moves his fingertips to her scalp, gently scratching around the nape of her neck, hoping she’ll come back to him soon.

“Mmmmm,” Briar hums, smiling to herself.

Harry smiles, increasing the pressure and speed like he’s petting Gus.

“Stop,” Briar whines, her hair now in her face.

“Sorry, Birdie. How do you feel?” 

“Good. Sleepy,” Briar yawns.

“Hungry? I can order us something,” Harry taps her sides.

“Can we have Caesar salads and Diet Cokes?” She cranes her neck to look back at him.

Harry laughs, “Sure, baby.”

“And french fries.”

“You got it,” Harry leans down and kisses her.

~

Briar is staying at Harry’s while he’s in the city for a few in-person meetings. It’s been nice; she does yoga outside in the mornings, takes Gus for walks around the picturesque neighborhood, and cooks using his expensive appliances.

🦊: Hi, Birdie.

🐥: Hi Daddy

🦊: Miss me yet? 

🐥: I like being able to lay sideways in your bed

🦊: You can do that when I’m there.

🐥: You’re too hard

🦊: How’d you know? Send me a picture.

🐥: It’s 10AM. Pay attention to your meeting

🦊: I’m not asking. 

Though Harry isn’t home, Briar still walks around his house scantily clad. An idea to terrorize her boyfriend pops into her head. Bolting up the stairs, Briar grabs her plug from Harry’s special area in his closet. She smirks to herself, feeling the cool metal in her hand. She walks outside, peering over Maureen’s fence to ensure no one will witness what she’s about to do.

She gathers spit in her mouth before lubricating the plug. She places one foot on the lounge chair for leverage, before nudging the plug past her entrance. Waddling around, she moves two lounge chairs to face one another. Propping her phone up on one, she shuffles to the other to get into position. She removes her sleep tank top and silk shorts, staring up into the sky to get some sun on her face.

She kneels, making sure to pop her ass out more. The phone is set to video so she can take screen shots of the poses she likes best. Or just send the whole damn video to him.

She makes sure to twist her body to fake some curves, looking over her shoulder and touching her hair. She fiddles with the plug, making her whine. 

Yup, she’s sending the video.

After a few minutes, she gets up from the lounge chair, being sure to flash the camera. She grabs the phone, scanning it over her body before blowing a kiss.

Delivered

Looking around again, she quickly throws her clothes back on, opting to leave the plug in for the day. Gus joins her outside, laying on the chair opposite hers. She has an urge to shut her phone off completely, just to push Harry’s buttons a little more.

Her quiet morning is interrupted by her ringtone blaring. She picks up without saying anything.

“Do you think you’re funny?”

“Who is this?” Briar is holding back laughter.

“I am in a meeting, little girl. You sent that video when all I told you to send was a photo.”

“So are you jerking yourself in the bathroom?”

“What a fucking mouth on you, huh? And yeah, your little video is causing a problem,” Harry grits.

Briar whines, “Don’t you wish it was my little hand, Daddy? Or my mouth?”

Harry slams his fist against the bathroom stall. His neck vein is protruding as he growls.

Briar is full on smiling to herself. She’s not particularly horny right now, but she’s happy to aid Harry with his issue. She can hear his panting increase before a clattering of the phone. 

“Harry?”

“Fuck, I dropped my phone,” he laughs incredulously.

“Oh my, well, maybe I should let you go,” Briar trails off.

“No, baby. Almost done. Just tell Daddy how much you love,” he groans. “Love him.”

“I love you, Daddy. So much. Come for me,” Briar says, leaning into her chair.

Harry releases into the toilet with a strangled moan. He prays to God the conference room walls are thick. He grabs a wad of toilet paper to wipe down his misfires before flushing.

“Thanks, Birdie. You’re in so much trouble when I’m home. Love you.”

“Okay, bye.”

She hangs up, shaking her head. She looks over her shoulder to see Maureen standing at the fence, watering her plants. Briar gives her a tight smile and wave, to which Maureen grimaces in response.

Briar lounges for a few hours before feeling intense boredom. She cleans a little bit, making sure to dust Harry’s various trinkets from his travels. She lightly wipes a ceramic elephant he got in Thailand, a Russian nesting doll from his time in St. Petersburg, and a clay shark from South Africa. While Harry has been all over the globe, the two share a desire to one day back back in South America. She hopes a llama trinket will one day sit on this shelf. 

It’s been a few weeks since the lunch with Briar’s mom and since Harry sent the letter to Camille. While she’s happy Harry is attempting to get to know his son, Briar can’t help but feel extreme anxiety. Why hasn’t Camille responded? 

The shrill sound of the doorbell and Gus’s subsequent bark breaks Briar’s train of thought. She can see a figure through the frosted glass of Harry’s front door, lingering at the table of snacks designated for delivery drivers. 

Briar can see the UPS logo on the man’s shirt, so she lets him pick his goodies before opening the door. She waved to him as he drives away, looking down at the package at her feet. She wonders if Harry sent her something for when he returns. 

Bending over, she’s surprised at the package’s weight. If it were new lingerie, it’d be light. She bends at the knees, inhaling when she lifts the package. Shooing Gus away, she manages to get the package to Harry’s long kitchen table. 

She’s wracking her brain what it could be. The entire package is wrapped in brown paper. She flips it over to see the label. Harry’s name written in cursive letters using a Sharpie. Her eyes are drawn to the left hand side; the sender.

C. Rowe 4 Rue Dupetit-Thouars Paris, France 75003

A lump forms in Briar’s throat. It’s been a few hours since she talked to Harry this morning. Her fingers start to dial his number.

“If you’re calling for a follow-up to this morning, I have to let you know that Niall is right next to me.”

She hears Niall groan in the background. When she doesn’t laugh or respond, Harry tries again. “Birdie?”

“Hi, I-I wanted to tell you that a package came f-for you,” Briar chokes out. 

Harry scrunches his eyebrows, “Okay, just leave it with the others. Anything else?”

He wants to be sweet with her, but she knows not to call about random things while he’s in meetings.

“I-it’s from Camille.”

Silence. Briar closes her eyes. 

Harry sighs, “I see. Okay, thanks for letting me know, pup. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Are you going to be okay until then?”

“Y-yes, I’ll be fine. I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous.” 

“It’s okay. This whole thing is a little odd. Just try to take your mind off it. Throw it in my office if you don’t feel like seeing it.” 

“Okay, I will. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Harry sighs. Niall looks over at him empathetically. 

“So when were you gonna tell me you’re dating one of the servers?”

Niall’s eyes go wide before rubbing his temples, “She told you?”

“What? Why wouldn’t she? She’s my girlfriend.” 

“We’re not dating. We hooked up once...twice.”

“Mhm,” Harry laughs. “Better nip that in the bud, then.”

Niall groans again just as their next meeting begins.

~

The anticipation is killing Briar. Harry is due home any minute, so she’s pacing between his kitchen and living room. Sitting on the sofa, sitting on the stool, sitting on the chair, standing by the window. She can’t keep still.

She joins Gus in his outburst of barking and running from window to window when they hear Harry’s car pull into the garage. She pokes her head into the garage to see Harry unloading his bags from the back.

She walks over to him, pressing her hands into his chest. 

“Hi, Birdie. Missed you,” Harry says, pressing a kiss to her mouth.

“Welcome home,” she smiles back at him.

She grabs the wheeled suitcase, lifting it over the threshold of the door. 

“Let me change and we can open it,” Harry says simply. Briar’s stomach drops.

“Okay.”

Briar corrals Gus to the sofa, the two of them perching in the corner seat. Harry changed into colorful sweatpants and a t-shirt that says ‘vote vote vote’. He grabbed the package from his office on his way back into the main living room. 

He places the package on the coffee table. The two of them stare at it silently. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this alone?”

“Mm, no, it’s okay. If there’s a letter, then I’ll read that on my own.”

Briar nods, waiting for him to open the box.

Harry peels the brown paper from the edges, tearing straight through his and Camille’s names.

He removes the paper in its entirety, examining the oversized shoe box before pulling the lid off. He places it off to the side while peering at the contents. From first glance, it looks like junk. 

He scrunches his eyebrows when he spots one of his old shirts. Did Camille really use this as an opportunity to send his shit back?

He moves the shirt to reveal a few envelopes, a baby rattle, a small pair of vans, a stuffed dog, and drawings. 

Harry opens one of the envelopes to find a stack of Polaroid pictures. He can feel his eyes start to sting. They’re in chronological order, showing his son grow from a tiny baby to an excited 7 year old. Briar has her head on his shoulder, silently viewing the photos. The birth photo has words scribbled in Sharpie at the bottom.

Oliver Styles Rowe  18-11-2016 3.3kgs | 53 cm

Harry is crying now. Briar rubs his back, trying to encourage him to keep going. 

He flips through the photo, feeling vomit bubble up his throat. This kid looks like a lot of fun. Fun that’s killing him to not have been a part of. Camille keeps him well travelled; there are photos from Tokyo, Australia and Mexico. 

Unlike most babies, Harry’s had his signature curls from the start. Briar gasps at the photos as they get closer to present day. Oliver is Harry’s twin. 

Oliver receives great marks in school; he’s pictured with several certificates and trophies. He even seems to be a footballer. 

Harry puts the stack on the coffee table, turning to face Briar. 

“Wow,” Harry says, wiping a tear from his eye.

“What’re you thinking?” 

“Just heartbroken all over again.” 

~

Harry went into his office to read the letter. He stops at his bar cart to pour himself some tequila.

It’s short, but gives Harry some closure. Over the last 8 years, Camille embraced motherhood by focusing less on work. She meditates, volunteers regularly, and is extremely involved at school activities.

She and Theo, their mutual friend from study abroad, have been together since she moved back. That sends a pang to Harry’s heart. They got married about 5 years ago, and have a little girl named Amélie. She only talks a little about Oliver, saying how much he reminds her of Harry. 

Camille apologizes, which Harry didn’t expect. She recognizes cutting him off from his son was wrong. She also left her contact information, followed by the last line. 

He would love to meet you. I think it’s time. 

C

Tears are fully falling on Harry’s cheeks as the heaviness of the last 8 years hits him. His son has Styles in his name. He smiles to himself, feeling the butterflies in his stomach. 

He shoves the letter in his desk drawer before wiping his eyes. He joins Briar and Gus back in the living room cozied up by the fire.

____________________________________________________________________

OHM YGOD. SOMEONE PLZ TALK TO ME AB BIRDIE AND HARRY I AM LIVINGGGGG

Taglist:

@daphnesutton​ @pandeebearstyles​ @anxiouswaterss​ @gem1712 @stylesfever​ @awesomenavy​ @crazygirlinthisworld​ @butdaddyilovehim-hs​ @luxiorchive​ @alchemxx @narry-heart 

[cowgirl078]

Season 7 of 911 if I was a writer/in charge. It's a bit much...

Now I don't know what abc has planned for the rest of the season; however, if I had been pacing the season...

Episodes 1-4 remain the same...loved the pacing and the storyline. That 3 part premiere was amazing. Episode 4 was set up beautifully.

Now on to 5...I think that this should have been just the storyline with Buck x Tommy and Eddie x Marisol. Add in a call that connects to both situations like they used to do in seasons 1 & 2. And have some of the wedding planning happening. Maybe with all the girls, outfit shopping? Situation arises from another wedding party. We also get a mention of Hen's excitement for their new addition to the family and Athena can bring up Harry and how he's doing with his community service. I just want that connection of episode and storyline back.

7x06 I personally think that Henren's storyline should have been pushed to this episode. That would have given them more room to let the audience focus on them. Add in the call we got in 7x05 abt the dog. And to give us a lighter note and breathing room...date montage...Eddie x Marisol and Buck x Tommy. Show both couples learning abt each other and having a great time doing it. Yes I know it will upset some people, but oh well. We also get Maddie x Chimney planning the wedding in that montage.

7x07 Best Man/Maid of Honor...the 118 realizes that neither Maddie nor Chimney have stated who is going to be what in their wedding. Questions and havoc arises...at home, in the station, and on call with them trying to prove who should be what.

7x08 WEDDING and apparently a wild bachelor party gone wrong. Chimney vanishes? All the families need to be there. I have no idea what they have planned, but I do oh so hope that Tommy brings Chim back to the wedding in his helicopter. All couples get a slow dance... Bobby x Athena, Eddie x Marisol, Hen x Karen, Maddie x Chimney, Buck x Tommy

7x09 Honeymoon for Maddie x Chimney...saving a life at some point and then getting right back to the honeymoon. Bobby and Hen talking to Buck abt his relationship. We need to see Hen and Bobby's reaction. And Hen and Tommy I feel deserve a moment as well, so they can have that when Tommy comes to pick Buck up after shift. Talks all around. But it actually turns out to be a double date between Eddie x Marisol and Buck x Tommy. Tommy gets called in... has to leave Buck with a sweet kiss goodbye.

7x10 Finale. Storm/fire or something that Tommy was called in from last episode. Maddie dispatches the 118 to help after his team calls for backup. I'm picturing a cliffside mansion up in flames, probably cause I've been reading some amazing ao3. Either that or a high rise... one way or another the helicopter is going down with Tommy barely escaping and Bobby dispatching the team to both save Tommy, get the people out, and put out the fire. I want to see a full circle... Tommy was with them risking all to save Athena x Bobby. The 118 are going to do whatever it takes to get to him while still doing the rest of their jobs. I want them worried, determined, and all the amazing things they are. 118 officially adopts Tommy into the family even though he stays stationed as a pilot. We get family dinner at Bobby x Athena's with all the beautiful and happy couples.

And that's all I got! Cue end of season 7.

[zot3-flopped]

I think Niall appreciates his luck and behind the scenes he does seem to put the work in. I'm not a fan - his music bores me. But looking back, I'm impressed that he has trained his vocals to sing the way he does now - he can tour with his voice. Of all of the four that aren't Harry, I can see he's achieved a lot *for him*, and with The Voice and the golf thing, plus let's not forget a steady relationship that seems to be pretty private, he's doing great. Of all of them, I think he has always been aware that the level of stardom he gained from 1D was out of proportion to his talents. I wish he didn't cosplay Harry quite so much, it's getting a little weird, but it also shows someone who's willing to observe what works, and the other three don't have that ability!

Liam, to me, seems to be in a bad place, psychologically, maybe psychiatrically. He can't do this job. He can sing well - if you like that sort of thing - but he hasn't got such talent that he can wow people. I think in the beginning Simon thought he did, perhaps, but 1D ended up being a curse for Liam. The whole project very quickly overshadowed him. He worked so hard to be part of it - and he *was* good in the band, no doubt. Vocally he was vital. He just didn't appear to have much guidance about the rest of 'being a pop star' post-1D and he seems not to have a foundation within himself, for whatever reason, that he could build on (unlike Harry, with his laser focus on who he is and what he wants). It's my view that he's got a personality disorder of some sort and of all of them, I think he is most in danger of ending badly.

Zayn I think is just a prick. There isn't much to say about him. I was the anon the other day who was utterly shocked at his live stream singing. People talk about him having the best voice in 1D. Yeah, maybe for one line and a high note per song. He has not got nearly enough talent or good personality to have garnered the adoration of his stans. He has not got anything to him, that he can take forward, and I'm glad this latest song hasn't hit. He doesn't deserve anything.

Louis is such a mess but he is making it work for him in his own weird way. I suspect he's losing money, but he's crafting for himself the tale he wants to tell (bolshy singer who did it his way against the odds, thousands of adoring fans to support him). The way he creates this underdog image, then has the balls to go on stage and patently be unable to sing or even move, the dogged repetition of his mantras about needing the fans' support: it's an exercise in manipulation on quite a large scale. I think he knows exactly what he's doing with it, but I can't see what he plans for the future. I'm curious to see him in five, ten years' time - still no relationship whatsoever with Harry to please the fans; the music scene will have moved far beyond him. I reckon someone in future will make a podcast series about his last few stans and he'll end up a weird footnote, a grizzled, addled recluse who was the centre of some strange people's lives for a while.

🤣🤣 Love this! Excellent points. Agree about Liam, unfortunately. I do think he'd be happier retiring from the fame game and just enjoying his millions. He should stop calling the tabloid paps everywhere he goes and find a partner who supports a sober lifestyle and isn't a wannabe influencer.

[blouisparadise]

Today we have a second part to our historical rec list for you! You can find the first part here. Check out these amazing fics and be sure to show the authors love. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Alone Too Long | Explicit | 10317 words

By the time The Temptress finally reached bay, the Captain only had one thing on his mind, and that one thing was Louis Darling.

2) Across the Grey, Salty Sea | Explicit | 19968 words

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

3) Angel Of Small Death And The Murder Scene | Explicit | 20634 words

Ever since Louis read about the new up and coming Detective in town, he had immediately disliked the man, despite never having met him. So, naturally, it can only be the worst thing that could have happened to Louis when he gets stuck with Detective Styles trying to solve a murder during his supposed to be relaxing vacation over the seas.

4) The Sovereign And The Sorcerer | Explicit | 22760 words

The silhouette of the person barely gave away his features. He could make out a tall frame, strength packing around his body like an armour. The scent hit him next, a thoroughbred alpha, Louis bared his teeth in warning. He would bite if this man tried to touch him.

"I suppose you are hungry," an amused voice regarded him, his accent giving away that he was from enemy lands, not that Louis needed any more confirmation than the situation he was currently in. "I brought some food and water," the stranger elaborated.

Louis rolled his eyes, tugging the chains to make them rattle, "I don't suppose you would be letting me out of these chains."

5) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30830 words

Jane Austen's Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis' family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

6) Through Chaos As It Swirls, It's Us Against The World | Explicit | 31728 words

Corporal Styles is sent on a suicidal mission, at his hands the lives of hundreds of men that are going straight into a trap. He ends up finding Louis, the French and most beautiful boy he ever seen, and a baby, in a basement of a dead city.

7) Best Colours For Your Portrait | Explicit | 37717 words

Louis bites his lip in, his eyes leaving Harry's face, they are cast low as he takes a deep breath before sighing, "In solitude, I felt the liberty you spoke of."

"But," The omega glances up, his eyebrows twitching as he brings his face closer to Harry's neck to overpower the alpha's scent with his scent, "I mostly felt your absence."

8) Letters To June | Explicit | 41150 words

It's 1915, Europe is in the middle of the Great War. Omega Louis decides to join the Letter Home Project to become someone’s penfriend. Through this he meets a lovely soldier who hasn't got anyone else to send a letter to. Along with his letter, comes a picture of the most handsome alpha Louis has ever seen.

9) Now I Think That I Could Love You Back | Explicit | 42255 words

“I do not care if she banishes me to my chambers for a month or the rest of the year, you two must see reason,” Louis protests, feeling a minor fit coming on. “He is nothing but an insufferable, cocky, cloddish, pitiful excuse for an Alpha, and he deserves to live the rest of his days in solitary, not me.”

“My, my, what an array of abuse. I surely would loath to be this inadequate excuse of an Alpha you speak of, but alas I cannot relate to possessing such deficiency,” a honey-glazed voice drips out from behind Louis, and the omega can feel the steam pouring over, ready to burst out of his already flushed ears.

10) Oubaitori | Explicit | 48822 words

Louis and Harry meet again after years apart and have to learn to live together by detangling their shared past and uncovering old secrets.

11) In A World Alone | Explicit | 51152 words

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

12) Untamed Hearts Align | Explicit | 55795 words

For as long as Louis has known her, Lady Margaret Tomlinson has had two aspirations for the remaining years of her life. The first was to out-dress the Duchess of Kent at every soirée and gathering. The second was to marry off her omega nephew to the most honorable – and highly ranked – alpha suitor she could find.

He does not expect for her to arrange a marriage between him and the crown prince, and he certainly does not expect to fall for him.

Everything changes when Harry disappears.

13) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

14) Lunar Waltz | Explicit | 56795 words

“You want me to seduce an alpha,” Louis hissed.

“I want you to marry an alpha. It’s the only way I could ever get back on my feet. You didn’t think a few dances at a ball would do anything to Alastair’s reputation or mine...”

“And what if Alastair comes back? Have you thought about him in all of this? You’re going to marry him to an alpha he doesn’t even know!”

“Oh he does know him, in fact... he’d be ecstatic to know he got to marry him.”

Louis’ blood ran cold, already suspecting who was the alpha the earl was talking about.

“Who is he?” he asked anyways, hating how fragile and almost scared his voice sounded.

“Lord Harry Styles.”

Louis' stomach dropped, the words came smelling like danger, sending a bolt of fear down his spine, the Earl wanted Louis to seduce The Duke of Death.

15) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

16) From Chaos | Explicit | 62764 words

“Your majesty, is everything okay?” a man, fully covered in a black armor from head to toe, harshly opened the door.

Louis’ breath hitched, not quite registering the honorary term the man used for him but fully recognizing two things; first, the black crown of thorns on top of his head, making the dark veil that covered his face sit in place. There was a symbol on his chest, two serpents intertwined in what appeared to be a circle, who represented Orcus' connection with life and death. A reminder to everyone in the order that death was constant, and infinite.

The man who stood in front of him, tense and alert, was a knight, an Orcus’ knight. Louis took an uneven breath.

What type of nightmare was this?

17) These Still Waters Run Deep | Explicit | 64602 words

Having accepted his engagement to Viscount Andrew, Louis is aware that it isn’t a love match and has no wish to be swept off his feet… until he meets the viscount’s brother, Harry, who makes him second-guess everything.

18) Mead Of Poetry | Explicit | 65053 words

Under the pressure of continuing the Styles viscountcy line now that he is getting older, Harry sets himself three rules to finally settle down and marry: firstly, the omega needs to be reasonably attractive, secondly, they must be of great mind, thirdly, they cannot be anyone he would ever fall in love with.

Enters Charlotte Tomlinson, the diamond of the first water of the upcoming season and seemingly the perfect candidate to the viscount’s plan, but her omega brother, Louis, is in Harry’s way. Louis only seeks to protect his sister and he sure is not going to let a rake play with her heart.

19) Where They Glow | Explicit | 70509 words

“Look, sweetheart,” Harry starts, shaking his head. “Name your price - seriously. I’m willing to be generous, just don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be. I’ll take my crown and we never have to see each other again. Easy peasy.”

Louis frowns at the term of endearment that sounds condescending dripping from Harry’s lips, stepping closer. “Something brought you here, Harry Styles. Call what you will: fate, destiny…”

“Liam Payne,” Harry mutters.

“And I have made the decision to trust you,” Louis says, ignoring the odd comment.

“A horrible decision, really,” Harry says, looking amused. “Then again, I’m the one sitting here in ropes with multiple bruises on my head so who am I to say anything about decisions?”

20) Late Nights and Good Intentions | Explicit | 71808 words

Victorian era AU where Louis pines for his overprotective older brother’s very charming best friend.

21) Shooting Stars In The Woods | Explicit | 81771 words

A Tudor era AU. Prince Louis I of England has everything a man could ever dream of, but his lack of husband is driving his father, the King, to madness. But Louis doesn't want any of the eligible bachelors his father pushes his way. All he wants is to be able to do is marry the knight he's been in love with for two years now.

The love story of a royal and his servant, separated by class but joined by heart. Their relationship has remained a careful secret for a long time now, but when a threat to the kingdom forces them both to leave the palace, it turns out their secret isn't the only one that could topple everything they’ve ever known.

22) Cherry Red and Gloomy Blue | Explicit | 94940 words

Summer had never quite been like this before. Yes—it was still sticky, Diletta was the same as always and Louis’ family estate in the Italian countryside hadn’t changed one bit. However, something the young omega would’ve never expected was for a handsome, Italian alpha to completely turn his life upside down—hopefully for the better.    

23) Locked Hearts | Explicit | 100499 words

England, 1840. Triggered by a heart filled with ambition, the powerful Pack Alpha Harry Styles decides to create an alliance with the neighbouring pack through marriage. The de Winters, having heard of Styles’ reputation as a charming yet abusive lover, refuse to put their only omega son through a life of misery—although they have no qualms coming up with a plan to make the advantageous alliance happen, even if it means subjecting someone else to that fate.

Enters Louis Tomlinson, a servant with a pitiful past who, against his wish, finds himself roped into a dangerous scheme that might very well cost his life in the end.

24) Billow and Breeze (Islands and Seas) | Explicit | 102506 words

It was bright; that was the first thing Louis could recall. With a groan, he winced at the throbbing behind the sockets of his eyes and rubbed his temples in an effort to soothe the pain. Maybe he really did hit his head when he took his tumble. The omega squinted as he looked at the surrounding rolling hills and fog hanging over the countryside. As strange as it was, the world felt different, though it looked practically the same.

Disoriented and confused, Louis padded through the moss and listened for his husband. “Liam?” he croaked shakily. Nothing but a symphony of woodland creatures met his ears. His footsteps were muted by mossy green grass beneath his feet and soil fragrant as he neared the crest of the hill. At the top, he froze, lips parted in horror and eyes widening at the expanse of empty farmland—not a soul in sight. It had only been less than ten minutes prior that he could see Inverness from the crest, but now there was nothing.

“Impossible,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief—his mind not quite able to make sense of it.

25) A Taste Of Desire | Explicit | 104414 words

A Victorian ABO where Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world.

26) Turn The World To Gold | Explicit | 142676 words

A Helen of Troy AU featuring two great love stories, one of the greatest battles ever fought, and a giant wooden horse.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[titaniasthings]

New Ventures

ao3 link if you're interested

The remnants of the green flame from Ron and Hermione’s fireplace flickered away as they carried the rest of an angry Harry through the floo network.

 “He reacted better than I thought,” Hermione did not take well to Ron’s sarcasm, aggressively picking up the cups from a disastrous tea and bringing them to the kitchen. 

 “He’s not the only one upset,” She turns to look him in the eyes. They were the same puppy-dog brown but with a fierce resoluteness. Hermione had to remind herself she was mad at him, “ Honestly, Ron, you can’t just decide to leave your job without any discussion. We have a child on the way, and you can’t keep making rash decisions,”

 “This wasn’t rash. Ill-planned, I’ll admit, but I didn’t just decide this on a whim. It’s been bothering me for a while,” Ron runs his hands over his face and moves closer to her, resting his hand on the counter next to her. 

Hermione struggles to understand how he could’ve thought this through. He hadn’t always loved working for the Ministry, she knew that, but he wanted to keep fighting them. They all wanted to be a pressing thumb in holding the Ministry accountable.

“I don’t understand,” Hermione admitted. “I know the job can be difficult, but how else are we meant to change things? You told me you weren’t going back to Hogwarts because you wanted to help people. You said you knew there was going to be a need for support. What’s changed?” 

“Nothing changed; that’s the problem,” he muttered. “My whole life, I watched my dad break his back trying to disprove prejudice, and they laughed at him, mocked him. I thought if we just garnered enough respect, people would listen to us,”

“But they do respect you!” Hermione added. She’d always seen the Weasleys as a genuinely honorable family. Their kindness, values, and sense of justice made her proud to be one. 

“You know better than anyone that respect isn’t enough,” He looks at her, now somber, “The prejudice runs too deep with these people,” Hermione looks down at her hands, twisting her wedding band.

 She faced their bigotry every day. The little comments about her aptitude and how capable she was from higher-ups. She heard cases about the Ministry's mistreatment of werewolves and house elves all the time. Voldemort dying didn’t change centuries' worth of bias, but who would she be if she didn’t try? 

“I’m not Harry. I can’t get away with making as much noise as he does. They don’t listen. I won’t be some pawn, a war hero they can’t flaunt around to carry out their misdeeds,” he shakes his head, “It’s all bullshit, and I’m done playing their game,”

Hermione wraps her arms around his broad frame, resting her head against his back. “You are the wisest wizard I know. Any person who ignores what you have to say is a pillock,” He turns around to face her, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“They don’t want to listen, and I can’t force them as an auror,” He presses his lips against the top of her head.

She looks up at him. The boy who’s been through everything with her. The one who made her feel at home when she felt like an outsider. The big dolt who’d broken her heart a million times just to rebuild it bigger and stronger. She can’t imagine a department deserving someone as thoughtful and sincere as him.

 “I understand. I really do, but we can’t give up. I can’t give up,” Hermione admits to him. She can't sit by and let them get away with this. 

“I don’t want you to quit. I think if anyone can make the Ministry pull their head out of their arse, it’s you. You’ll force them to do better,” Ron lowers his hands to her little baby bump, staring wondrously at it, “Now I only answer to the both of you… and sometimes mum,” Hermione cracks at his quip. Adjusting would be hard, but she didn’t marry Ron for his status. She married him for his kindness and his mind. Hermione had to let him follow through with it. 

“I’m sure Harry will come around. He loves you almost as much as I do, maybe more sometimes,” Ron laughs at that assumption.

“Probably, but there will be plenty of me for both of you,” She snuggles into his chest once more and stand in the home they created, treasuring their moment of peace.

[cerebrobullet]

Sharpe's Fury Very Belated Final Book Report:

honestly been putting this one off because i know the battle scenes are coming and i need to be in a Mood to survive them sometimes. also im busy vibrating violently over my gf visiting in a week and there's very little brain space for other things to exist.

pat smelling sharpe's bullshit from a mile away but having to just let him Be Stupid. rip pat i'm so sorry your boyfriend is an idiot. himbosexual problems.

sharpe thinking at pat that it's "not his fight" when he keeps butting in, like.... bud, buddy, whatever you do is pat's business and pat's fight.

god i forgot sharpe got shot in the head. that scene deserves an expansion. maybe sharpe being laid up in bed for a bit with just harper to look after him :3c. what if i wrote a fic series that just expands on all the injury scenes to give them the solid h/c treatment they deserve

harper glaring harris down from protesting following sharpe heheheh

vibrates excitedly over the men bantering while on their "walk on the beach". cornwell please gimmie 20 more chapters of just that, just them being little shits while following their officer around like a pack of happy dogs ready to chew the face off of anything that threatens him

oooh the voice the narrator used for when sharpe spots the colonel he's trying to kill was *chef kiss*. very fine acting, loved the... fury in it *eyebrow waggle*

aaaaaand that's the end of that one! did enjoy moon's change of heart at the end hah, and sir thomas being all "well he hates you sharpe so clearly he'd not lie for you!". love it when sharpe going feral makes other officers want to put him in a lil baggy and tote him around. god i love feral characters SO MUCH

also blessing be that the girl of the week had an american accent, forcing the narrator to make her sound like leroy and therefore not insufferable.

hmm overall would rate fury solidly upper c tier i think. loved most all the bits with sharpe running around the city with a head wound and a devious lil queer man. loved the vibe sharpe had with henry. it had some solid stand out bits! and was overall very acceptable. 👍

Next, we return to the 90's writing era with Battle.

[obsoleteozymandias]

I want more self care headcanons for my boys!!! They deserve it after all they have been through. Could I please get some bath time headcanons for the DE boys? Stuff like the kinds of smells they like for soap and candles. If they are the kind to wash their partner, have their partner wash them or a mix of both. Small things like how their hair feels all soaped up, maybe add something where the reader does something like spike their hair while helping wash it, or making bubble beards or hats for themselves and the boys.

I also imagine Harry loves baths but doesn't get the chance to indulge in them alone due to his chaotic mind and work. He definitely wraps a towel around his hair and maybe even wraps the towel all around his body and not just his hips.

Surrrrrre thing baby. I didn’t really include a reader in this one, just FYI.

Headcanons: Disco Elysium

+Self Care!

Harry du Bois: 

Harry is the kind of guy who smells awful, but adores luxurious bubble baths. He loved the soaps and oils Dora used, so after she left, he bought himself some of them.

I feel like pre-mart Harry would have been sensitive to being seen as not hyper-masculine though, so he would have compensated for the floral scents with ungodly amounts of cheap cologne. 

He loves to just sit in a warm bath with candles and sink into his own mind. On a bad day he listens to the radio and tries to stay further away from his own thoughts. 

Mans goes commando after a bath. In the comfort of his own home, nobody can tell him to wear pants. 

I imagine he’d like being washed by someone, like a big ol’ dog. 

Kim Kitsuragi: 

Kim will take a nice long bath occasionally. He believes it to be a bit gross, soaking in your own filth, and truthfully prefers a shower. But after a long case, when he could give less of a shit about how he gets clean and more about how he feels during it, he’ll give in. 

Candles, burning hot water, and silence. He’ll occasionally listen to a TipTop race if there is one playing, but otherwise he’s pretty much like a corpse in the water. 

He’ll sit forever, just letting himself feel warm and relaxed, not worrying about the next case while he still can. 

Afterwards, he’ll smoke a cigarette in an old bathrobe an ex bought him as a gag gift. It was too comfortable to throw away. 

I don’t think Kim would be all to opposed to having someone help him, but just with the harder to reach areas. He likes being independent. 

Jean Vicquemare: 

Jean takes baths as often as he can. He really needs that full-body relaxation after a long day of dealing with idiots (read: Harry, Mack, and Chester). 

He reads while bathing, typically the news, but occasionally some cheesy horror novel. I also feel like Jean likes non-fiction, so maybe he reads up on some history. 

Thinking about the past can make the present easier to handle.

 He will also smoke while in the bath, which is horrendous, but nevermind that. 

He also has a bathrobe, one which used to match with Harry (another gag gift) that he kept. 

I think he’d like to bathe alone, given that it’s his personal time to think over the day. 

[t-h-i-n-g]

Can I please request an I was made for lovin’ you :)

i hope this is enough to work with!! im a capricorn sun and a ravenclaw and my pronouns are she/they!! im bisexual with a woman/feminine presenting pref and im half puerto rican half white!! im 5'0" and i have pale skin with freckles. I have shoulder length, wavy dark brown hair with an undercut and dark brown eyes. i also really want to deck out my ears with piercings one day.!!! i can play clarinet and am trying to play the ukulele. I like cooking, but i also really like food in general, im down for almost anything as long as i can eat it ( i have celiac disease) I have an obsession with lizzo ( along with bad bunny, steflon don, and ajr) i love writing it’s my favorite thing ever!! ive got notebooks upon notebooks of writing. ive played soccer since i was 4 but I also enjoy martial arts a lot. in my free time i normally draw, read, workout, or attempt to ride a skateboard!! i also have one dog whose name is bear!! I can literally never not be anxious, its like its built into my system lmao. im fairly laid back, but i get really tense around people i don't known well. im also known to have a resting bitch face, so a lot of people think im scarier or tougher than i actually am. I really enjoy laughing at stuff, and i like to think that im pretty funny. Im also smart, but i always have to work a little but harder to understand stuff, specifically in math, which makes me a little frustrated. i have pretty bad insecurities about my body, but most of the time i pretend they don't exist lmao. i do really enjoy fashion, and i could spend hours trying on clothes. im empathetic, and i tend to mold to whoever im talking to at the moment. there are few people i can be myself around.. i try not to get to attached to people i might date, but deep down inside i am the worst hopeless romantic the world has ever seen. sorry if this is too long and tysm!! <33

If you could ship me with someone from either avatar the Last Airbender, twilight, percy jackson, marvel, or Harry Potter that would be great!

Congrats on 150 followers, u deserve it! <3

Ello Ello!! Ty for requesting! The more information the better of an idea of you to ship you with so it's completely fine :))

I ship you with Hermione Granger! I could see you definitely part of the golden trio. And as like the civil mind of the chaotic group. It may have took some coaxing but they got you to warm up to them. Yours and Moine's relationship would be a slow start. Maybe sometime around year 3 or 4 at Hogwarts did you finally start eyeing each other. With little glances to each other throughout the day. wich then sprouted into one on one time without the boys. Starting with little study dates and branching out to meeting each other in the mornings and evenings. She's very observant and could sense the obvious connection to one another but would wait until you felt ready enough to act on it. But at the same time put a slight pressure on you with it. Just brushing her hand against yours or even holding it at times. As well as complimenting your outfits whenever you weren't in your school robes. And showing she's paid attention to your interests. Asking if she can see some of your writing, giving affirmations on how well your grades are doin and and offeringl help if you needed it, and attempting to bring your nerves down when you get a little too anxious. When you do become official, her and you find comfort in each other. Wether it be ranting or expressing your insecurities. She's always there for you. Making sure youre alright and seeing if your taking care of yourself. Hermione was glad you fell for her. Even if you drifted away at first, she's so so great full you came back to her.

HOPE YOU LIKED THIS AND TY TY

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

for the 'why wouldn't date them'

charles, hawkeye, trapper

and i think you might be into twin peaks? if so, dale cooper and donna hayward

whichever ones you want to do :)

Ahhhhhh omg thank you for all of these I want to do them ALL but let's go backwards.

Donna Hayward

Ok so the thing is I AM into Twin Peaks but it's been a while since I've seen it and I tried to watch The Return but I was too stupit to understand much less enjoy it :( sowwy. So I would be dating my own flawed incomplete interpretation of a person, really. Typical Twin Peaks. 

Anyways I love Donna! I think we have similar personalities and stuff. In all brutal honesty I think if I were in her situation with a friend like Laura I’d have done similar things. Also yeah maybe her actions did lead a man to suicide but that was NOT her fault. I think the only three things that would prevent an attempt at a relationship here are 

1) The obvious. Her taste in men = atrocious. In all the rest of these hypotheticals where the character is already canonically in a relationship or has feelings for another character I’m just like yeah the more the merrier but if Donna insists on inviting her insufferable ass boyfriend into the mix I could NOT fucking do it I’m sorry. 

2) This girl is not ready for a relationship yet after All That god damn. But then again neither am I so maybe that balances out. We would need to spend some time as support group buddies just hugging and crying a lot before even considering a date. 

3) It is unlikely we would ever interact as I am never setting foot in that town ever in my life are you kidding me. Donna is super pretty in both her incarnations but I’m sorry I don’t think any pussy pops severely enough for me to risk going to fucking doorknob hell or some shit.

Dale Cooper

Ignore everything I said in that last paragraph. I change my mind. I forgot my beautiful autism creature husband is here. I would risk it all for a date with Dale Cooper and so would all who know and perceive the truth. AND he’s got two hot girlfriends with him at least one of whom is ALSO an autism creature??? Sign me the FUCK up for this polycule IMMEDIATELY. “Oh but OP what about the horrors” I don’t even fucking care it’s fine. Dale can have little an evil doppelganger. As a treat.

Still there are some problems:

1) Dale is an FBI agent and Harry is a cop. Booooooo!!!! But maybe if Annie and Caroline and I unionize we can force them to quit their jobs. 

2) Unclear if I would be forced to join the Black Lodge Horror Vision Rotation along with Annie and Caroline. Boring and time consuming task and unlike Laura you don’t even get to do a Big Scream.

3) I personally actually don’t like pie or coffee at all :( I’m sorry babygirl I understand if this is a deal breaker. 

Trapper McIntyre 

You know that “golden retriever boyfriend” joke? Trapper is like THE golden retriever boyfriend to me. Which I mean as an absolute compliment! Golden retrievers are friendly, helpful, adorable, lovable dogs. I am always up to pet a golden retriever.

But the thing is, I would never get one myself. They’re just a bit too big, bit too much energy, bit too messy, and anyways I prefer cats. No hate, no judgment, just a series of tiny preferences. Not into jocks, not into casual no-strings-attached type relationships, not super into kids, you know how it is. Boring and petty answer but I just feel like this adorable happy-go-lucky goldie deserves the PERFECT forever home and obviously he’s one of the most popular of all the dogs at the Mashblr shelter so I know he’ll get adopted super fast. So I can turn my attention to the miserable ass overbred old cat in the corner <3

Hawkeye Pierce

Oh, Hawkeye. I just don’t think so. Idk what’s wrong with me but I have to work to see Hawkeye as like. A dateable entity in my mind. He’s our little scrunkly! It’d be weird to date a scrunkly. BUT maybe I’ve just been overexposed to him purely by dint of being in the fandom he’s the main character of, because objectively I DO find Mr. Alda’s portrayal of him in certain scenes to be Attractive (TM), and seeing clips of his charisma and charm and humor and all that good handsome stuff is literally what got me to check out the show in the first place! Man. What happened. Hmm. 

I think one issue is that scenes where he’s explicitly trying to be Romantic and/or Seductive have just never done it for me. Like comparing Hawkeye’s lovey scenes with Kyung Soon to Charles’ with Martine, there’s no contest in how they make me feel. To me, Hawkeye is honestly at his most appealing when he’s radiating Friend Energy, which is why his casual relationships actually work really well IMO; you feel like he’s truly a great pal to the nurses he hooks up with. This is also, I think, one of Piercintyre’s great strengths as a ship, because Hawkeye and Trapper both have amazing Friend Energy and then their natural compatibility makes that bleed seamlessly into sweet romantic vibes. And to be clear I would LOVE to be in a Friends To Lovers relationship too but unfortunately I am cringely obsessed with loveydovey romance in a way I’m not sure Hawkeye is even capable of. Plus there’s also just the fact that I’m a shy waiting til marriage person and I suck at banter and yeah it’s just not working. In conclusion neither Hawkeye nor Trapper should date me they should date each other!! But we knew that :P

THAT CUNT

There are 10000000 reasons not to date Charles. But I will be doing it anyways ^_^ Peace and love on planet earth <3

Anyways I’m not bringing up his Problematicness as a reason here because I didn’t bring it up for anyone else and nobody noticed, so why should it be any different with him. Like no obviously I would not date this dumbfuck racist but I also would not date a guy who thinks it’s a funny prank to make a woman think she’s being sexually assaulted. I also for that matter would not date a guy who works with the dumbfuck racist and is like aw, ya know what, he’s not that bad really :) the second they have a chance to have a bonding moment. I guess I have decided to be a buzzkill about that forever now btw sorry :( oh well 

But ok no real talk I would Not date Charles unless one very specific condition is met, which is that I have whatever magic stardust they sprinkled on his single-episode love interests before they put them in the story that made him be utterly besotted with them, because more than any other character on the show, it seems, the difference between Regular Charles and Charles In Love is so hysterically huge??? Like fuck. My dudes. We’ve done it. We found the one villain who actually does do a complete 180 and starts trying to act right as soon as a girl takes pity on him enough to look at him twice. (Disclaimer: I haven’t seen Ain’t Love Grand yet I’m sorryyyyyyyy) He’s so ~romantic~ and it’s like catnip to me unfortunately. :\ The total opposite of what I said about Hawkeye up there. Offers a girl his stupid little teacup and recites poetry at her. Unbelievable. Did anyone ever think about the fact that maybe I would like to be offered a teacup and recited poetry at. No. You all only think about yourselves.  

Like even though objectively the way he nukes his relationship with Martine was hurtful to both of them, he’s so Tender the whole time it’s insane. She turned him into her pauvre petit miaou miaou overnight. I want that power so fucking bad I NEED that power so fucking bad. Say it with me everyone. I Could Fix Him. (”But OP Martine and Donna DIDN’T fix him he still left them both and never mentioned them again?” Yes but don’t worry they were just loosening the lid on his jar a little bit. I’ll get him open you’ll see. He’s gonna be soooo well trained when I’m done I’ll make him apologize to Maxwell and everything. He won’t even need the shock collar after a few weeks.)

But yeah if I have to like, try to appeal to him on my own it’s not fucking happening. I have no desire to hear the equivalent of a DOS deepfake hologram that has become evil due to being trained on text scraped from youtube comments tell me I’m ugly and stupid, which is exactly what would happen. Up til now I’ve sidestepped the issue that I do not think any of these people would give me the time of day (except Maxwell who would take pity on me probably because he is sososo Good) but I cannot ignore how much Charles just would Not like me. I don’t know how the selfshipper community does it they’re braver than any fucking US marine over there fr. Charles would look at me like I was a gross little bug on the ground and I can’t escape it. Oh well. Who needs him. Where’s your sister you dipshit I’m about to GET IT

[ilovedilfs228007]

OH I KNOW

A biiiiiiig post about all the books i have, because I like talking about books.

1. Comics. 2 about doctor Strange, 1 about loki and 1 about tony stark. Those about dr strange were a gift from a friend. Im afraid to ask how much did they cost.

2. Tomas Harris' Red dragon, The silence of the lambs, and Hannibal. There should be 3 books but i started to reread the third one. I liked them all so fucking much i recommend them to everyone i know. It was very hard to find them all in my native language and the first two are second hand but hey. At least they look fine on the shelf.

3. The picture of Dorian Gray. Basil Hallward deserved better. Loved it a lot but was a bit boring from times to times. Live laugh gay men.

4. Just after sunset by Stephen King. A lot of different short stories, some of them are scary, some of them are not, but i liked the one about the Akkerman field and the things they left behind

5. The shining by Stephen King. Sometimes boring but only sometimes. And please, stop describing the carpet, we understood that it is blue, okay? And i wanted to know more about Roger the Dog Man. A sad story about gay man.

6. The Witcher. The first book. I can't say that i liked it very much. Some stories are okay but ehhh... I just don't think i like fantasy.

7. The Good Samaritan by John Marrs. Eeehhhh... Well, depressing, sometimes boring. Didn't like it.

8. The Master and Margarita. I. Love. Fagotto. And. Behemoth. I want you to know, that in russian Fagotto's name is Fagót. Lol. I love him so much it hurts. He is such a gentleman and, in my opinion, has a lot of in common with supernatural gabriel. I laughed a lot when i read this. Also boring sometimes but it's alright. And i named this motherfucker ↓ Behemoth, sooo.. yk. I like it, like, a lot

9. Taras Bulba. Well, i needed to read this, can't say that i liked it very much. Not that bad actually. I just ehhh feel sorry for Andriy. He is... Well... I don't think i understand the concept of the patriotism. So yeah. And lol little silly man

And the book's cover is magnificent. Just look at it

10. The foxhole court. Didn't like at all. Don't want to read the two other books, sorry.

11. Books about medicine. Have finished none of them. The white one was a secret from parents because say the words "sexual differentiation" and my dad's in coma. It was quite interesting tbh. The green one is about forensic medicine. Interesting but not so much. The grey one was a huge mistake because its name was translated as "the neurosurgeon's prayer" and i thought it was about the neurosurgery. No. It's about praying with your patients. 🥲

12. Books i haven't read because they are not interesting or that are not mine.

13. Call me by your name. Haven't read yet. Im going to ignore the existence of the poop scene.

14. The Divine Comedy. Haven't finished. Too boring and i have abusive relationships with long poems.

15. The Surgeon by Tess Garritsen. BOOORIIING. And i know who is the killer from the very beginning. In my opinion it's a problem. Have read for the sexy Saint Tomas but uh. I have seen that the other books from this library are about the woman detective. She is way better than Jeanne from the previous post. But still BOOOORIIING. Maybe will finish it one day.

16. A collection of fairy tales, plays, poems and short stories by Oscar Wilde. Including the picture of Dorian Gray and De Profundis. Haven't read all of it, just some poems and have started De Profundis but haven't finished. I felt like it's a talk show and they are arguing in front of everyone. Well, not they, just oscar saying that his boyfriend is an abusive bitch.

Im a bookworm as u can see. Well, sort of.

And the big black book on the right is the Resurrectionist the lost work of dr Spencer Black. Bought it because of the pictures.

[pwrrpl]

Pt. 1

The streets are cold as always, but every year is getting colder. Maybe is because every year I'm more alone. Walking through the night in dark streets remind me who I am. A simple monster with nobody around him. Ha, that word don't affect me as much as years ago. Now it feels empty, like I am.

Suddenly I started noticing that something or well, someone was following me. I didn't care that much but it was getting closer and closer, so I started walking faster to, then, hide in a small and dark alley. The person who was indeed following me, turned his head and smiled. It was kind of creepy but I've seen worst smiles. I'm not carrying my wand so my only choice in this situation is to hide and then go to my house, wishing to not be robbed by some homeless man.

But to my surprise, he stood there, quietly. Then, he said;

— Remus. Is that you?

I've heard that voice before, it can't be. Could it be possible? How? That son of a bitch escaped from Azkaban.

— Black. How did you...?

— Escape? It wasn't easy, haha. But now I'm here! I know what happened to Harry but I know that he's in Hogwarts too, isn't it amazing? Just like us! He's going to keep the Marauders legacy.

I haven't listened that word in more than a decade, the Marauders, the four of us. Now we are two, an asassin and a monster. Funny, really, really funny.

— Don't you dare to say that again, Black. I know what you did. You bastard deserve to die.

— Remus... I don't know what are you talking about. Listen, I didn't kill James and Lily, did you really believed them? I was your friend!

— So were Lily, James and Peter!

His face darkened, he seemed to remember that moment and his eyes showed glimpses of anger and sadness. He tried to say something but I interrupted him.

— I shouldn't be talking to you right now, I can't have a worse reputation 'cause you know, that goddamn furry thing, talking to you could mean never getting a job, and well, you don't know what means but for people who were not born in a cradle of gold, it means death.

I can feel the sadness invading every part of his dirty and damaged body, he's not what I remember of Sirius Black, it hurts a little but I can't just forget what happened.

— Is that what you think of me? An arrogant millionare who knows nothing about the world?! Do you know what I've been through for twelve years?! I been in Azkaban more than I've been with the Marauders.

— So? Do you think that you're the one who suffered the most?! All of my friends are dead because of you! And they didn't even let me see Harry before he left, because im just a grotesque fucking monster.

He sighed.

— Moony, please. Listen to me for this time, there's so much you don't know-

I interrupted him again, he was annoying me and certainly I was not in a good mood to hear a talk with a traitor, plus the full moon was coming in three days so, every word he said hurt and bring tons of anger into my blood. Hearing a "Moony" coming out of his mouth was extremely gross, I just wanted to throw up.

— Never call me Moony again, Moony died the day that you killed all of him. For now on I'm Remus Lupin.

— I understand.

His entire self, his blue eyes, he was like an abandoned dog, it made me want to hug him and that's what I hated the most. So, trying to stay calm, I invited him to my house for a hot meal and a shower.

He accepted and we walked all the way to my home in complete silence. I know he wanted to say something about everything that happened, plus he wanted answers more than questions. But I wasn't the one who was going to give them to him.

— Well, this is my house. Feel free to take as many showers you need, take food of the fridge and I will prepare blankets for you to sleep on the couch.

— Moon- I mean Remus, I really appreciate what are you doing to me.

— After you become yourself again, we will have to talk, this time seriously. Don't make me regret not reporting you to the authorities.

— I understand.

He walked to the bathroom and three hours after, he was eating a hot soup that I've made. I noticed his underweight, Sirius once was a muscular casanova of Gryffindor. Not as fit as James but his genes really helped. His hair was longer, no piercings but his tattoos seemed to be in place. He was old and emaciated. So was I, the years passed like bitches.

Now, he was prepared to talk, and I was prepared to listen.

[finelinevogue]

the road not taken looks real good now (it always leads to you)

Description - y/n and harry!female re-kindle after a devastating breakup

A/N - so my best friend wrote this and i thought it was too beautiful to let it sit in her google docs doing nothing, so please give it some love so i can show her the lovely comments and feedback! she doesn’t believe it’s good but i beg to differ!! (harry is female in this)

warnings : angst, swearing

[ masterlist ]

a tiny extra, a poem, that she wrote, that makes her feel the same way as this fic:

i am not asking for much

just a warm bed

and someone to love me as i am

fold back the sheets

so i can crawl in

smile pressed against your shoulder blades

cocoon us safely in your body heat

the smell of your perfume on the pillows

tired eyes finally come to rest

with you next to me

••••

The air is fresh and cold as you crack the window of your bedroom, breathing in fresh spring air as you tip your face up to the light. You can’t help but think, what the fuck have I done? Only mad people invite their ex-girlfriend over to stay with them in their house for two weeks. You wondered idly if it was dramatic to suggest that it was going to be like living in your own personal purgatory, trapped between the relative silence that had existed between the two of you since four years ago when Harry left you crying and broken-hearted on the doorstep to go follow her dream, and the endless craving for her love that you don’t think will ever leave you; it’s held on long past the time she was last yours. But what could you do? She was coming here because, as she privately confessed to you in that frantic 2 am phone call, that she was scared she was never going to write anything good ever again. And you knew what that felt like, to feel like the words had dried up inside of you, clinging to the inside of your brain no matter how hard you tried to coax them out on the page; everything you did write a jumble of letters that made no sense and left you achingly empty. If she needed you to give up your space, open the arms of her old home to her one more time, so she could write something she really believed in, who were you to deny her?

Even when it felt like swallowing fire to even think of having her in familiar hallways again. On the bright side, perhaps Harry being here with you would reignite the fire of the healing heartbreak wounds that led to your first book and you might finally be able to offer your publisher something that didn’t carve her frown lines deeper into her face. But maybe that was an unfortunate way of looking at your relationship. You had promised yourself you could be her friend, no matter how gut-wrenching it would be to watch her be anything but yours. A girl like Harry deserved to be loved by everyone in every way, no matter the personal cost.

You sigh, knowing you’re about to go and waste your day, staring out the window waiting for Harry, despite knowing that her flight doesn’t even reach the terminal until half-past three. Harry generally tends to have that effect on people, but you can’t help feeling like a little dog, waiting at the door for her to come home and love you, tell you that you’ve been so good to sit and wait for her all these years.

••••

You hear her before you see her. The clatter of her cases and the swearing from where you’re so sure she’s managed to trip and hurt herself, always the clumsy one of the two of you. You can almost feel your soul reaching out to hold her close. You have no time to dwell on how pathetic of a start this was to your ‘just friends’ policy, as the sound of the doorbell echoes through the hallway. As the door swings open under your sweaty palm, you see her. All big, trusting eyes and long curls, and a little flowery dress for the rapidly warming weather. She smiles, and you feel the side of your mouth twitch up in an involuntary response. She’s just as gorgeous as you remember, you can practically feel the sunlight spilling out of her to hold you hostage in its rays.

‘Hi,’ she says, ‘I’ve missed you like mad.’

‘I think I’ve missed you more, darling.’ You reply, lurching forward to wrap your arms around her waist, hers coming up to cradle you as she lets go of her travel bag, landing with a bang on the doorstep. She still feels like home.

Eventually, you let her go, stepping back and grabbing her case so she can come inside. You watch as her eyes scan the hallways of the place she used to call hers.

‘You kept my lamp.’ She notes, turning to raise one eyebrow at you as she makes her way toward the kitchen.

‘It’s a good lamp.’ You reply, trailing after her to the kitchen.

‘I bloody know, that’s why I picked it, you complete thief.’ She laughs, dumping her bags down to the left, as you skirt around her to rest your crossed arms on the island.

Harry’s face turns serious as she looks at you, leaning over the other side of the counter, green eyes intent on yours.

‘Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’

‘H,’ you smile, ‘it’s been a long time. We’re in our thirties, I’m thirty-four years old, I’m sure I’m mature enough to have you in my house. Besides, we’re friends now aren’t we? And all my friends stay here.’

‘I’m only 29.’ Harry flashes her cheeky grin and watches as you roll your eyes, finally tearing yourself away from where you’ve steadily been inching closer to her face as you spoke.

‘Don’t be a pedant, H. You’re in the spare bedroom next to me if that’s alright? I’ve changed the sheets and everything, and there’s a fan if it gets hot tonight.’

She just nods back, picking up the satchel and her suitcase, nudging the door open with one last glance back at you.

You press your head against the counter, hoping the cool touch of the marble will lend you some clarity. Already, Harry had your heart jackrabbiting in your chest and you’d only been standing in the same kitchen together for five minutes. You couldn’t help but wonder what had possessed you to miss the time frame for inviting somebody else, anybody else, to be your buffer for her extended visit.

••••

Harry is perched on your counter, chewing absentmindedly on a breadstick you offered her as she came in to watch as you made dinner. Her socked feet bounce and kick in the air as you stir the boiling water to test the consistency of the pasta. You feel the sweat start to bead up on your forehead, the now unknown feeling of being watched and the heat of the pan mixing with the warm air blowing in through your patio doors making the room feel airless. Maybe it was a bit too hot for pasta in this weather, but you couldn't help but start putting together the dish that Harry had always loved, had begged you to make on date nights, the one you made whenever you felt like you were too difficult, too angry, too unloveable, that you had nothing to offer her apart from this one little pasta dish.

‘Are you seeing anyone?’ It comes out of nowhere, and you startle, not used to having casual conversation in your kitchen.

’Why are you asking me that?’ You pull the pasta off of the hob as you turn to look at her, reaching for the strainer she’s already holding out towards you.

‘I’m curious.’

‘Seems like a loaded question.’ You volley back, in particularly deep concentration over draining the water from the pot. Harry sighs in frustration behind you, shuffling in her seat.

‘Indulge me.’ You turn to face her, her green eyes wide and serious, one hand carding through her hair - an unconscious habit you’ll never forget.

‘No. I’m not seeing anyone. Happy now?’ You forget how easy it was to get frustrated with her and her inability to let things go, a hazard with your short temper.

‘Very. That wasn’t even hard was it? Were you ever seeing anyone else, you know, after?’

You stare back incredulous. She must know she’s winding you up now.

‘Why are you even asking me all this, H? It’s like you’re trying to get on my nerves.’

‘I don’t get why you’re being so defensive about this, it’s a very simple question.’

‘It’s not simple when your ex-girlfriend is asking you whether you’ve been fucking anyone else.’ You huff, mixing the pasta with the creamy sauce she adored.

‘I thought you said we were friends. Friends talk about their relationships.’ She always had that talent, turning your words back on you, especially when she was bitter about them. You didn’t see quite what she had to be angry about with this one, especially if she had moved on enough to feel comfortable quizzing you about whatever new girlfriend she had dreamed up for you. Privately, you thought she might be a little disappointed.

‘Right, well this friend has had one other relationship. A very brief one. And, as is standard for my track record, it didn’t work out. Can that be the end of this conversation now?’

‘If that’s what you’d prefer. You don’t want to ask about my new relationships then?’ Her mouth turned up in that quirk you knew meant she was satisfied with the outcome of this conversation.

‘Not even a little bit. Get your bowl and we can eat outside.’ You do your best to smile back at her, your head spinning with the thought of her being with anyone else, of anyone else touching her the way you did, knowing her the way you did, watching her spill all her emotions onto the bed in front of them as they sat in the dark together the way the two of you used to.

You dream of her that night, all that soft skin and her open mouth, hovering over you as you grasp at the pale expanse of her back. The silk smooth feel of the inside of her thighs, your hand climbing steadily upwards; the hard press of her mouth on yours, panting into a kiss, slipping down the open cavern of your neck as you slide your hand to fist in her back of her hair and guide her downwards until you were gasping.

That’s how you wake up, hands reaching up to hold something you were never going to get to have again, mouth curving around her name. You wondered after if she could hear your desperate cry in the room just next to hers, her own name a call sign she had decided to ignore. You could already feel your body waking up in her presence, feelings you thought were long dead being unlocked just by having her close by, the urge to reach out and hold her to your and keep her forever tingling in your fingertips.

It starts to occur to you that you might be in over your head.

•••••

The next day brings unbearable heat, the thick, oppressive humidity that you’ve only ever known in the British countryside. You wake for the second time, kicking off the heavy weight of the duvet and scrambling for a water bottle. You can feel the sweat beading as you roll out of bed and pad towards the bathroom, hoping to rinse off the entirety of the night before and replace it with a fresh resolve to behave yourself around Harry. Alas, you’ve never been lucky. As you crack the door, you see her standing in the hallway already, cradled in the light of the morning. Her head twitches towards yours as you take in the sight of her in a silk slip, and your flip flops.

‘Sorry to borrow,’ she says, voice heavy with sleep, ‘I thought it was going to be cold, I’ve only got slippers.’

‘No bother, baby,’ You cringe at the endearment, your pledge to be friendly already slipping out of your grasp when she’s stood there all in white, like the angel you know she is, ‘I should have warned you, they’ve been predicting an Indian summer for a few weeks now.’

She nods and gestures towards the stairs, ‘Are you coming down for a coffee?’

‘In a second, I want a shower first, and then we can go swim if you like? You’re welcome to borrow something to go if you haven’t got anything with you.’

‘That would be great, thanks, I’ll do breakfast while you shower?’

You open your mouth to protest, she was a guest and you didn’t make a habit of asking your guests to wait on you, but reconsider, smiling and nodding at her as you headed towards the bathroom door. She is quite excellent at breakfast after all. And, possibly selfishly, you were hoping that making breakfast would distract her from trying to start the same kind of conversation as yesterday, given that she seemed so keen to prod at that particular bundle of hurt inside of you. You turned the shower to cold, trying to stave off both the crawling heat of the air and the aching heat inside of you, a fire lit at the sight of Harry in her nightdress.

••••

You had to face her again quicker than you liked, padding down the stairs in a bikini, carrying one in your right hand for Harry, the air too hot to even think of a wrap. You found her laid out on the marble countertop, leaching the heat out of her body, nightdress ruched up around her upper thigh and flip flops abandoned next to the oven. At your audible swallow, she lifts her head slightly to smile.

‘Sorry to be so wanton in your kitchen, it’s just so fucking hot.’

‘No worries.’ You tell her, the words slightly strangled as she sits up properly to grab the bikini from your hand and jump down from the counter.

You slide into her now vacated spot. The marble is still warm from the heat of her body that you yearn to touch yourself.

She slides your plate towards you, with a face you knew meant trouble.

‘How old was she, your other girlfriend I mean?’ She asks, watching closely for your reaction.

‘Are we back on this again?’ You sigh, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling.

‘Really, Y/N! You keep telling me we’re supposed to be building a friendship but you won’t even be honest with me about a relationship you aren’t even in anymore! Friends tell each other about their lives, you know!’

You dig your fists into your eye sockets, it’s far too early to be having this fight. And what damage could it really do to something so broken?

‘Forty-five. Thought I’d give the whole older woman thing a try, see what all the fuss was about. You certainly seemed to like it.’

‘Did you like it? Did you love her?’ She follows up your answer with more inquiries in quick succession.

‘I think I could have loved her if I had tried.’ But I didn’t, you can’t add, I couldn’t try and love anyone because I’m too head over heels for you and I’m scared I always will be and I don’t know what to do with you here in my kitchen, asking me about the feelings I’d accepted I would be locking away in a box forever after you left me.

Harry purses her lips together at that, and flips her hair back over her shoulder, banging a mug of coffee down hard on the counter in front of you. You expected her to go on with her questions, nudging away at your boundaries until every barrier that you had built to protect yourself in her absence came crashing down around you, leaving your hurt visible in the middle of the wreckage for her to see. But she’s dead silent, staring at you like you’ve given her a challenge. Before you know it, you’re choking on the mug of coffee that she gave you, made exactly how you like it. Harry stood in front of you, slipping her nightdress down her arms and off, off, off. It pooled around her feet like water as she looked at you, eyes locked on you as your jaw dropped.

‘H, what are you doing?’ You ask, unable to tear your eyes away. She still looks exactly the same as she did four years ago, soft love handles and fern tattoos and so so gorgeous.

‘I’m changing, I want to swim.’ She raises one eyebrow as if it's a completely obvious thing to do, strip off in your ex-girlfriend’s kitchen right in front of said ex-girlfriend. Sometimes, you felt like the only sane person you knew.

‘You have a bedroom!’

‘Why are you getting so shy? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, babe.’ She winks, finally securing the back of the bikini top so she was at least somewhat covered.

You stare at her for another second in disbelief, before shaking it off and grabbing your plate. The sooner you get to leave this strange atmosphere Harry had created between the two of you, and finally, get a deep breath of fresh air to remind you of yourself, and distract you from the burn that had shot through you at the sight of her, the better.

••••

Your walk down to the lake is quiet, Harry occasionally nudging her arm against yours and just smiling when you turn to look at her, the crinkles of her eyes visible just to the side of her little round sunglasses. You had forgotten how good it felt to just be alone with her like this, just the two of you walking close by each other through the wooded area you had once loved to explore, to bring your picnics to and kiss in the dappled light. It felt so much the same that you were having to remind yourself that you couldn’t just reach out and interlace your fingers with hers, tug her against your side. You swap the picnic basket you had packed so it acts as a barrier between you, and you hear Harry sigh on your left. You don’t have time to dwell on it as you step into an open cavern of light, the sun's rays reflecting off of the now visible lake. The two of you spread the picnic blanket out and Harry flops down on her back, kicking off her shoes and turning her face up towards the light. She gestures for you to sit down next to her as she rolls over onto her stomach and pushes her sunglasses upon her head.

‘Can you tell me why you’re being so fucking weird?’ She asks, voice interrupting the silence of the morning out of nowhere, and instantly putting you on the defensive, your famous quick temper rising to the surface as you snap back at her.

‘I’m not being weird! You’re being fucking weird, taking your clothes off in my kitchen and questioning me about who I’m dating and asking to stay in my house after not speaking to me for years.’

‘Y/N.’ She looks unimpressed, mouth set in a hard line which you knew meant she wasn’t going to let it go.

You take a deep breath, trying to let some of the anger out with your long exhale. You knew you weren’t really angry with her anyway, not when what she was saying was entirely true.

‘I’m trying to be your friend, H, this is difficult for me you know! I don’t spend much time trying to be best pals with my ex-girlfriends funnily enough.’

‘It doesn’t feel like you’re trying to be my friend. Because what I’m doing is trying to be a part of your life again, to know you again, and you’re just pushing me away, every time I try to find out anything about your life. The reason I’m being so insistent about your ex is because that’s the only thing you’ve actually given me any kind of insight on at all, you’ve not mentioned your friends, or your new hobbies, or your writing, and I’m too scared to talk about what I used to know about you because you just seem like you’re about to accuse me of bringing up the past. It just feels like you’ve invited me here so you can try to create scenarios to prove to yourself that you don’t want me anymore; like I’m some weird personal growth exercise. And it’s kind of making me feel like shit, to be honest.’ The hard set of her face cracks as she finishes speaking, her lip wobbling the way it did when you knew it always did when she was about to cry. You surged forward, to crush her into a hug, despite the awkward angle, and she met you with equal enthusiasm, gripping your shoulders tightly as if she was afraid she was going to wake up and find out it’s all a dream.

’That was never my intention, honey. Please, my baby, you have to believe me. I just don’t know how to be here with you when I don’t have you anymore and I’m not coping the way I thought I would. It’s not your fault, H, my darling.’

‘I just want you to trust me with you again.’

‘I want that. I want to prove it.’ And you do, you want that so much. You want to be the one she knows the best again, to trust her with your soul and trust that she won’t break your heart. You haven’t been so good with trust for a long time. Four years, to be exact. It’s starting to get tiring, being so on guard with her, not telling her how you feel about her, resigning yourself to having to go without her forever. She looks at you, inquisitive, as you push back from her so you aren’t locked together anymore. You unlace the back of your bikini top, letting it fall to the mossy ground, and you see her eyes track your movements. She rolls up onto her knees to touch your thigh as you let your bikini bottoms meet the same fate as your bikini top, eyes wide and confused.

‘I don’t want to push you away anymore,’ you reach down to press your fingers against her cheek, tipping her face upwards to meet your eyes, ‘Swim with me, Harry.’

Her face twists up into a smile as she reaches up to unhook the back of her bikini, letting it meet the same fate as your own. You pull her close, the connection of your body on hers feeling like there’s an electric current running through the both of you, sending sparks flying towards the damp ground. And suddenly you’re racing towards the water together, tumbling over each other's feet as you push closer, until you feel like any further and you’d be climbing inside of her, becoming one beautiful blend of your love for each other lit up in golden light.

The water is cold, sending shockwaves through you. Harry yelps, dragging you closer, drawing your legs up around her waist in the buoyancy of the water, despite your protest.

‘I’m conserving heat between us, baby.’ She jokes, hitching you up further so she can press her wet, open mouth to your collarbone, dragging it down until you were fisting your hand in her hair, tipping your head back at the touch you’ve long since given up wishing you’ll ever have back. She switches her hold so she’s supporting you with one tattooed arm, and the other one dips between your thighs in the space she’d made between the two of you.

‘When did you decide you just wanted to be my friend, Y/N?’ Harry asks, breathing hot and heavy, the line of her body pressed up against yours, hand cupping the side of your face, tight against your cheek.

‘Never. I never did. It’s been fucking hell having you here and not having you still. I’ll never not want you like that, Harry. You’re the only one. I’ve been in love with you for a fucking decade.’ You tell her, voice cracking over your confession as her hand twitches.

Her eyes fix themselves on yours as she replies, searing and intent, her hand nudging your face forward from where you’d lean in to bite at her shoulder.

‘It’s you. It’s always been you.’

‘You can’t say that to me if you’re just going to leave me here again. I’m going to be in love with you for the rest of my life, H, and if I have to watch you walk away from me again it’s going to kill me.’ Your face crumples, one hand on Harry’s chest to push her away from you, the other pressed to your own where you could already feel your heart bracing for the impact of Harry telling you she could never love you more than her adventuring, never love you more than her vibrant life in Madrid, that she was going to leave you here forever knowing you were only ever going to be able to sit waiting for her to come home to you.

She laughs, open-mouthed and breathless, eyes disbelieving on your face. Water rushes between your bodies where you’ve pressed your hand against her chest, her heart thumping under your hand, the familiar rhythm that used to lull you to sleep every night. It laps against the bottom of her rib cage where she looms over you, face set, ready to make you listen to her.

‘I only ever left England because everything here reminded me of you. I’m never leaving you again. You’re mine. I’ll always be yours. I love you. I came back here because I wanted you. I needed to know I was ready to be the woman you deserve to be with, the kind of person that can support you as equally as you support me, to teach you about my bit of life and receive your advice in return, without feeling guilty for everything I can’t offer you. I’ve been dreaming of being here with you for four years, ever since the moment I walked out of the door, and I finally feel like I can do it. And I’m so sorry I had to go, but I couldn’t go on lying to myself and pretending I was the kind of woman to give you the life you’ve wanted all these years. So if you’ll have me now, I’ll be right here, and I’ll never leave you. This is it for me. There’s nobody else. There’s never even been anyone else in all this time. It was all for you. It’ll always be me, making my way through the world to find my place next to your side.’

••••

The tears finally spill over then, everything you’ve been dreaming of her saying for years suddenly being spelt out right in front of you. You crash your body back into hers, hands and mouths everywhere, both of you eager to reclaim lost territory, make your marks on the wide expanse of each other’s skin, on bodies that belonged together once more. How beautiful for the one you thought you would spend your life pining to come back to you to breathe her fresh breath of air in your life once more and light it up with all her beautiful colours. How beautiful that you finally had your light back.

Later, you lay next to her on the picnic blanket on your front, one hand in her curls, twisting them this way and that, slowly brushing the other one up and down her stomach, circling the fern tattoos as she lazes in the sun. A thought occurs to you, watching a bead of lake water roll down her chest to the floor.

‘What the hell was that in my kitchen earlier, by the way?’

‘Had to check you still wanted me didn’t I,’ She smirks, opening one eye as she rolls her head towards yours.

‘Cheeky fucker.’ You wouldn’t have her any other way, your sunshine girl.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 108: Ideal (Happy Birthday, Harry Potter)

Harry hadn’t had very many good birthdays.

Somehow, in spite of that fact, he’d imagined that his 19th birthday would be different. Last year, on his 18th birthday, when they’d spent the day rebuilding Hogwarts, Harry had reflected on his many terrible birthdays and told himself that 18 would be the last bad one. He’d told himself that on his 19th birthday there would be a party, he’d have his friends around him, and maybe just for that one day, they could forget everything bad and just have fun.

But now he was single, living in muggle London, without any friends nearby, and without any happy plans in place. He decided that he had to do something today, there must be something that could make his birthday not quite so glum.

He set off toward a coffee shop a few blocks from his house and ran smack into a door as a woman was coming out. She apologized but Harry was too distracted by what he saw inside of the store. From where he stood he could see reptiles, and birds, and he thought he could make out cats in the corner, and somewhere there was the faint sound of puppies yipping.

Waving the woman off he entered the animal shelter, feeling like might have found something good after all. He wandered in; first past the birds, then the reptiles, then to the kittens and full-grown cats. He paused with the cats for a little while, trailing his fingers along their cages and talking to them softly. Then he moved past them to the dogs and puppies.

There had to be about 10 altogether, different breeds and types, some sleeping, some playing together, some just wandering about sniffing. Several came charging over to the edge of their pen when they saw him, wagging their tails eagerly and he just knew. He looked up and waved to a sales associate who was straightening some pet supplies. “Sorry, I just wonder if I could meet some of the dogs?”

“Oh, sure!” she replied brightly. “Draco is on the dogs today, I’ll call him over. Just a mo.”

That was an odd name, Harry thought, it must be a coincidence. Surely Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be working in a Muggle Animal Shelter of all places. It was preposterous. Yet a moment later he heard a voice he’d recognize anywhere, “Sir, is there something I can help you with?”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he turned to look at the boy who had been his nemesis for several years, “Malfoy?” he asked incredulously, yet somehow he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. It was his birthday after all.

(Read more below the cut)

“Potter? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

“Oh, you boys know each other?” Annie asked with a wide smile.

“Uh,” Harry said inarticulately even as Malfoy said, “Yes, we went to school together.”

“Oh, it’s always nice to run into old friends!” she exclaimed. “Well, I’ll just leave you two to catch up and to find this young man a puppy!”

“You’re here to adopt a puppy?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“Or a grown-up dog,” Harry replied defensively, feeling like this sort of luck was quite typical of his birthdays.

“And you just happened to show up at the one shelter in all of London that I work at?”

“Well, it’s not like I knew you worked here. It’s my birthday and I just wanted one happy thing-”

“A dog is a big commitment. It’s not just something you decide you want one day then discard the next.”

“I know that!” he protested. “And I want a commitment. I want something to love and take care of, something that loves me in return. I want something that is there all the time.”

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment. “Alright. What kind of dog are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I could meet them and then I’d know which one was the right one.”

“Trust me, Potter, if you do it that way you’ll take home 5 dogs.”

“Maybe I want five dogs,” Harry said stubbornly. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else on at the moment.”

Malfoy snorted, “Have you ever owned a dog, Potter?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Have you?”

“No,” Malfoy said. “For one thing I’m not allowed to have them in my flat and for another, I don’t have the time and energy for a dog. Dogs are a lot of work and I’m not saying you can’t do it,” he said, as Harry opened his mouth to protest. “I’m just saying, maybe you should start with one dog.”

Harry frowned but it did make sense, he supposed.

“Come on, Potter, tell me about your ideal dog and I’ll still let you meet all of them,” he said as he started toward the back. When Harry didn’t follow he said, “Come on, you can’t meet them out there.”

Harry followed him through a door that led behind the glass.

“So, when you imagine your perfect dog, do you think you want a dog with a lot of energy or that’s a little more lowkey?”

“Umm,” Harry said, imagining that he’d like a dog who wanted to play but also thinking of how hard some days were. “Maybe a little lower energy, but one that would still like taking walks and want to play a little bit each day.”

“Well, most of our dogs will want to play at least a little bit here and there,” he replied. “So meet Artemis first,” he said, as he went into the area all of the dogs were in and led one dog out. “She is not for you,” he said as the dog bounded over to Harry and Harry knelt down to pet her. She licked his face and put her paws up on his shoulders to sniff his hair.

“Why isn’t she for me?” he asked, tipping his head up to avoid being licked in the mouth. “Hi Artemis,” he said. “Hello, beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked her sides, combing through her soft fur. “You’re a lovie, aren’t you?”

“She is,” Malfoy confirmed, rubbing her head between her ears. “But our Artemis is part Australian Cattle Dog which means she is very high energy. She needs to run every day regardless of the weather and she needs a lot of stimulation. She is a very smart girl and there will be a perfect home for her, but you aren’t it.”

“But I like her,” Harry said, wrestling with her a little bit.

“You’ll like lots of them,” he said. “I promise.” Then he added, “And if she is your favorite, there’s nothing saying she can’t come back out so you can have her.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed reluctantly.

“Alright,” Malfoy repeated. “So that’s Artemis, you can meet Pontus next,” he said, before calling Artemis back to the playroom where the other dogs were. “Pontus isn’t completely trained yet, we’re still working with him on basic commands, so I’ll just have to go in and get him.”

Harry nodded and sat back on his heels to wait, a moment later a huge dog came out, panting and dragging Malfoy behind him.

“Pontus,” Malfoy said reprovingly.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the dog barreled into him and knocked him off his feet with a couple of raucous barks. He pinned Harry’s shoulders to the floor and licked his face quite thoroughly, butting his glasses completely off his face. “Hey, boy,” Harry managed, pushing at his broad chest so he could sit up.

Malfoy was tugging at the dog’s collar, seemingly to no avail. Finally, between the two of them, they got him enough off of Harry that he could sit up.

“Well, hello to you, too, handsome,” Harry said with a chuckle as he scratched behind his ears and Pontus tried to sit in his lap.

“Pontus is very sweet but he is an oaf,” Malfoy said as he brushed his hair back out of his face. “He is part American Pitbull and part something huge and dumb. We can’t quite figure him out.”

“He’s a nice boy,” Harry said as Pontus tried to chew on a bit of Harry’s fringe.

“No,” Malfoy reprimanded the dog, tugging him back from Harry. “Yes, he is, but he needs a firm hand, Potter, and you are too soft. Once he’s trained a little bit he’ll be a very good boy but you just let him eat your hair so you’re definitely not his.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, patting the dog’s side. “I think you’re probably right.”

“Did you hit your head on the floor when he knocked you over?”

“Not really,” Harry said as he reached back to rub the back of his head and Pontus butted him to get him to keep petting him, “Yes, alright, you demanding thing,” he said with a chuckle. “Why do you ask?”

“Well because you admitted I was right and it didn’t seem to hurt you even a little bit.”

Harry laughed, “You’re a git. I’ll have you know it didn’t hurt me one bit.”

“My, my,” Malfoy said with a small smile, “Is this what we call character development?”

“Yes, I see you,” Harry said as Pontus flopped over onto his back on top of Harry’s legs so he could rub his belly.

“He likes you,” Malfoy said with a grin.

Harry looked up at him, “He seems pretty friendly, Malfoy. I bet he likes everyone.”

Malfoy shrugged one annoyingly elegant shoulder, “Not really. He’s usually not too keen on men, in fact.”

“And you let him all but attack me?” Harry asked in mock offense. “I mean, I know you don’t like me, Malfoy, but killing me seems a little much.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t attack people. It’s a common misconception about his breed. It’s all about how they are raised and trained, just like it is with every dog. Except possibly chihuahuas.”

Harry laughed, “I don’t know anything about his breed,” he said honestly. “I just meant that he tackled me to the floor pretty quickly.”

“Yes,” he said, “But when Pontus doesn’t like someone he cowers from them, he doesn’t attack them. He will do whatever he can to put as much distance and as many obstacles as he can between him and the person he’s afraid of.”

“Well, I think he’s sweet,” Harry said, his heart in his throat at the thought of this poor dog being so afraid. “Maybe I could adopt him-” he started.

“Oh no you don’t,” Malfoy said and he leaned down and grasped Pontus’ collar once more. “His person will come and in the meantime, he will have us to look after him. He is not the dog for you; he will wreck your entire house and you’ll let him. He deserves a family who will train him and teach him to be a good boy because he wants to be a good boy.”

Pontus stood up and wagged his tail at Malfoy, slapping Harry across the face. “Ow!” Harry said, shoving at Pontus’ rear end, “Stop hitting me with your tail. That hurts!”

“His tail is very strong,” Malfoy said with a chuckle, “Come on you,” he said to Pontus, “You can go back and play.”

A moment later he came back in, carrying a squirmy puppy in his arms. Harry reached out for it immediately, “Hello,” he cooed at it as the pup started to sniff him.

“This is Caerus,” he said. “He’s a beagle mix, which is quite obvious by his love of sniffing and by his sweet floppy ears.”

“Hi Caerus,” Harry said, holding him up so they were nose to nose, “You are very cute. Yes, you are.”

“He’s just going up for adoption,” Malfoy said. “He was a little touch-and-go for a while, his brother and sisters all died. He was in a very unsafe situation when we found him and we really didn’t know if he’d make it or not, but he’s a fighter.”

He squirmed to get down and Harry set him on the floor and he took off sniffing around the room they were in, following his nose.

“He will have no trouble being adopted. He is young and adorable, and people love puppies.”

“He is really cute,” Harry said as he watched him run around. “But he’s not for me.”

“I agree,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Oh, you’re looking for someone who’s a real rescue.”

“What does that even mean?” Harry asked.

Malfoy watched the little dog walking around the room, investigating and sniffing as he said, “It means that you have a hero complex, Potter, which I can’t even blame you for because you were raised to have one. But you want to rescue a dog who’s come from a rough life and knows it. You want a dog that will love you unconditionally and whose sun rises and sets with you.”

“Well-” Harry started, feeling a little defensive.

“That wasn’t a criticism,” Malfoy said quickly. “It’s a good thing. It means that you want to really bond with your dog and vice versa. Frankly, you’ll be a great pet parent.”

“Err,” Harry said inarticulately. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said with another one of those shrugs. “Besides, you’re not cut out to train a puppy.”

Harry laughed, “I could learn.”

“You could,” he conceded. “Maybe. You don’t like to be the bad guy and sometimes when you’re training a dog you have to be able to say a firm no. Especially with puppies.” Before Harry could respond, Malfoy was bending over and scooping up Caerus, “Alright, Mister. Back to the puppy room with you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

When he came back he brought two puppies with him, both with curly, white hair. “Meet Castor and Pollux,” he said.

“Hello,” Harry replied, petting both of them as they squirmed on the floor and started to tousle with one another, both yipping happily as they played.

“We are hoping someone will adopt them as a set. They’ve never been apart a day in their lives and they basically only socialize with one another, no matter what we do with them. They both cry inconsolably when they are separated.” He crouched down beside Harry and stroked one of their backs, “They are also definitely not for you, but I told you that you could meet all of them.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile as Malfoy scooped them back up and carried them back to the other room.

A moment later he came in, walking slowly and leading a dog who limped along behind him. “This is Molly,” he said as he led her over to Harry. She wagged her tail happily at him and plopped down next to him. “She is the sweetest, gentlest dog you’ve ever met.”

Harry stroked her head and she laid her head on his lap.

“She’s a black lab mix and she is a love,” he said as he crouched next to Harry once more, “She has had a hard life and she would love you until the day she died, but she is also not for you.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up at Malfoy, “Why not?”

“Well first because she is special needs, she’s blind, her liver is pretty much shot, she’s all but deaf, she can’t manage stairs, and she is on a variety of medications.”

“I could learn how to deal with all of those things!” Harry protested. “Poor girl, she just needs a home.”

“That’s the second reason you can’t have her,” he said. “She’s already been adopted. She’s the owner’s dog. He just brings her along because he can’t leave her alone at home all day.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Yes, oh,” Malfoy replied. “She’s a good old girl.”

“Why doesn’t her name match all the others?”

Malfoy flushed slightly and Harry couldn’t help but find it a little charming, “I named all of the others,” he confessed. “We just need something to call them while they’re here and I like to give them new names if they’ve come from somewhere else to help distance them from their pasts. People can change their names when they leave.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry said.

“Shut up,” Malfoy replied.

Harry laughed, “What? It is.”

He rolled his eyes, “Alright, Miss Molly, let’s go. We have to find this prat a dog and you can’t be it,” he told her as he gave her a gentle tap and started leading her out. “No, you cannot. Your dad would never give you up. No,” he said as the door closed behind him.

Next, he came in carrying a tiny dog who was yipping at him, “Yes, yes, Hermes. We all hear you.”

He set the dog down and he immediately ran over to Harry, still barking at him. Harry held out a hand to the dog to sniff, “Hello there.”

Hermes yipped at him and then ran over to Malfoy yipping before returning to Harry once more.

“Hermes thinks it’s his job to tell everyone everything. He basically never stops barking.”

“Aptly named then,” Harry said as he reached out and stroked a hand down his back.

“He’s part chihuahua, we’re certain,” Malfoy continued. “And he is trained and housebroken, his only problem is that he doesn’t stop barking.”

“Will a dog like this find a home?” Harry asked, even though he knew it couldn’t be with him.

“Oh, certainly,” he replied. “He’s young and healthy and has his basic training. There are people out there who will not mind his barking one bit.”

“I’m not one of them,” Harry said as he handed Hermes back to Malfoy.

“No,” he replied. “There are two more,” he said. “And while I think either of them could be right for you, I’m saving the one I think is perfect for last.”

“Alright.”

“I only say this so that you don’t fall completely head over heels for the next one before meeting Penelope.”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry assured him.

A few minutes later he returned with a giant black dog ambling along behind him, “This is Gaia,” he said.

Harry’s heart melted as the dog walked straight over to him and flopped down on his feet. “Hello beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked through her thick fur.

“Gaia is a six-year-old Newfoundland mix. She is house trained already, she’s a very low energy dog but she’ll go on walks and play with you. She is a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, he brushed his thumb along her cheek and she stared at him with her big brown eyes. “Hi,” he said softly.

“She would love you unconditionally,” Malfoy said as he knelt beside Harry.

“Why do you think she isn’t perfect for me?”

“More than half of her life is already over,” Malfoy said. “Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.” He glanced down at the dog and stroked her side.

“But...” Harry prompted.

“But,” Malfoy said before taking a deep breath. “You’ve seen a lot of death,” he looked up at Harry then, his eyes so clear and sincere that they seemed to pierce into Harry’s very soul. “Newfies typically live 8-10 years.” He raised one shoulder, “She would be great for you, but she is going to leave you far too soon.”

Harry’s eyes stung and he looked away from Draco and down at Gaia who had fallen asleep. “Will she get adopted?”

“Yes,” Malfoy said without even a moment’s hesitation. “She is a sweet, sweet girl and people love big dogs. I give her two weeks in here tops.”

Harry stroked her ear between his fingers, “If I tell you to bring in the last one but decide I like her better?”

“You can still adopt her,” he said quickly. “Sending her back now doesn’t hurt a thing.”

He nodded once, “Alright.”

Malfoy nodded back, “Come on, Miss Gaia,” he said. “Up you get, you sleepy girl.”

She stood up, turning to look at Harry for a moment and wagging her bushy tail at him, before lumbering after Malfoy once more.

When he returned he was leading a small tan dog behind him. “This,” he said as he scooped her up, “Is Penelope.”

As Malfoy started to hand her to Harry she started wagging her tail so hard that her entire body wiggled with the movement. Harry laughed as he took her into his arms, “Well hello little one,” he said. She bumped her nose against his before licking his cheek. “Hi,” he said again.

She squirmed a bit, so he set her down, thinking this is where any that had gone wrong went wrong but she didn’t walk away, she stood up on her hind legs and pressed her front paws against his chest so she could lick under his chin.

He laughed and stroked down her sides, she was super soft and he said as much to Malfoy.

He nodded, “Yeah, our best guess for breed is a chihuahua-frenchie or chihuahua-pug mix. The pug or frenchie would account for the wrinkles that she gets in her forehead, how soft she is, her barrel chest, and the way her little ears look. Chihuahua would account for the long legs and slender build in spite of her barrel chest.”

She took her feet off Harry’s chest and Harry held his breath to see what she would do. She turned away and he thought that his mind was made up but then she turned in a circle in between his legs, then another, then a third before laying down pressed against his body as close as she could get.

Something made Harry feel like he was choking as he watched her settle against him.

“She likes you,” Malfoy said softly. “Miss Penelope is almost two. She is potty and kennel trained already but will need a little help learning basic commands, she’s relatively young so it shouldn’t be too hard. She doesn’t like going on walks when it’s too hot or too cold, but when the weather is nice she enjoys them. She likes to play fetch and she really likes to chew things. But her favorite thing is a lap to curl up on under a blanket.”

“She’s so small,” Harry said softly.

“Fifteen pounds,” Malfoy affirmed.

“Would she want to sleep in a kennel at night?” Harry asked.

“If you wanted her to,” he said.

“And if I didn’t?”

“She loves to get up on furniture with people. I’m sure she’d be glad to sleep in bed with you if that’s what you’re asking.”

She lifted her head up from where it was tucked against her chest and plopped it on Harry’s thigh, gazing up at him with warm caramel eyes.

“She would adore you,” Malfoy said softly. “I named her Penelope because I knew that whoever she chose as her person she would be unendingly faithful to.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, stroking her head before running her ear between his fingers.

Over the earpiece Malfoy was wearing, Harry could hear Annie requesting back up on the sales floor.

“Why don’t you two take a little more time together,” Malfoy said. “I’ll go check in with Annie and then when I come back you can tell me what you’ve decided.”

Penelope lifted her head as Malfoy left the room watching him until the door closed before turning to look at Harry.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, stroking his fingers down her side. “He’ll be back.” He picked her up, holding her in his arms like an infant, and she huffed a little breath before settling her head on his shoulder, tucking her nose into his neck.

“It’s alright,” he said again, even though she didn’t seem perturbed in the least. “What do you think, then?” he asked her. “Hmm?”

She pressed her nose against his neck and gave him a tiny lick.

“Do you want to come live with me?” he asked her.

Her tail twitched back and forth a few times.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he turned his head to press his face into the fur on her shoulder. “Hmm? You want to come home with me?”

More waggles and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Do you like the name Penelope?” he asked her, shifting her so that he could see her face, he brushed his thumb over her black whiskers and she turned her head away, “Well you don’t like that, do you?” he asked and he brushed his thumb under her eye to clear a little gunk. “Sorry, little one.”

She let out a little huff at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

He held her and pet her, talking to her softly. He fell completely in love with her in a matter of minutes.

When the door opened and Malfoy stepped back in, Harry said, “Can I take her home today?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said with a smile. “There’s a whole bunch of paperwork for you to fill out first but wait until you get a load of their quills. There’s no inkpot or anything.”

Harry laughed, “They’re pens, not quills.”

“You know about them?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“I lived with muggles after my parents died until I was 11. Yes, I know what pens are.”

Malfoy huffed, “Why wouldn’t you have brought them to Hogwarts? Why didn’t you use them there? It would have been so much smarter.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with pens,” Harry replied with a laugh.

“Well, that's probably true. But I was an idiot.”

Before Harry could say anything in response or even process that remark fully, Malfoy was reaching for Penelope, “Let me put her with the others while we get you squared away.”

“No!” Harry said quickly, clutching her tighter against him.

“I’ll give her back, I promise,” Malfoy said.

“Can’t she just stay with me?” Harry pleaded.

Malfoy looked at him for a moment, “Yes, alright, but don’t let her distract you from the work you have to do.”

“I won’t.”

“Here,” he said, holding out a contraption to Harry. “Put this on her, she can’t be loose out on the sales floor.”

“Err,” Harry said as he reached for it. “How do I?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Merlin, Potter. It’s a harness,” he said. “Here, set her on the floor and I’ll show you how to put it on her. It’s so you can walk her on a leash.”

“Can’t I just use a collar?” he asked.

“No,” Malfoy said as he lifted one of her front legs through a hole, then the other. “Small dogs, in general, do better with harnesses than collars. Unlike larger dogs, she has a more fragile trachea so we put a harness on her instead.”

“Is she okay, though?”

“Oh, yes,” he said quickly as he snapped the harness over her back. “Right,” Malfoy said, passing him the end of her leash. “This way, I’ll take you in to see Jeff and get her paperwork filled out.”

“Great, thanks,” Harry said, “Alright, Penelope,” he said, “let’s go.” She wagged her tail and stared up at him.

“Do you have the things you’ll need for your home?”

Harry shook his head, “Can I get those things here?”

“Yes. After you fill out her adoption paperwork.”

“Will you help me make sure I get everything she needs?” Harry asked quickly, afraid he’d miss something essential.

Malfoy gave him a smile and a small nod.

When they went to the office, Malfoy knocked on the door and someone, Jeff, Harry presumed, called for him to enter.

“Hi Jeff, this is Harry Potter,” Malfoy said, gesturing for Harry to enter the room. “He’s here to adopt Penelope.”

The man at the desk looked up over the top of his glasses and gave Harry a warm smile. “That is wonderful news! Come in.”

“I’ll just leave you to it, then,” Malfoy replied.

“Draco, you should stay. I’ve been meaning for you to learn more about the actual adoption process,” Jeff said.

It took a while to fill out all of the paperwork, but once they did, Jeff said, “perfect. Now there’s just the home visit and you’ll be all set.”

Harry looked over at Malfoy and Malfoy looked at him, both realizing at the same time what a bad idea it was to have a muggle come to his house.

“I’ll do it,” Malfoy volunteered quickly.

“Your shift is almost over,” Jeff said, looking at the clock on the wall. “I can take care of it.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “I don’t mind. We’re old,” he broke off, glancing at Harry, “friends,” he finished a bit awkwardly. “I’m helping him make sure he has everything he needs anyway.”

The other man nodded, "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he said, nudging Harry out of the office.

Malfoy helped him to buy supplies for her, laughing as Harry picked out far more toys and treats for her than he thought was necessary. The sales associate helped them to box everything up and Malfoy helped him carry everything out of the store. "How far do we have to walk?" Malfoy asked.

"Just a couple of blocks," Harry said. "Do you want me to take that?" he asked, offering him Penelope's leash in exchange.

He shook his head, "It's fine." He hoisted the box a little higher in his arms.

"Do you live near here, too?" he asked, watching Penelope trot along tail wagging as she sniffed.

"About twenty minutes by bus."

He couldn't help but chuckle, "Draco Malfoy riding a muggle bus, who would have thought it?"

But the other man didn't seem to find that amusing, he frowned, "I'm not the person you remember."

"No," Harry said quickly, "I know," he added. "I wasn't trying to say anything unkind."

"Sorry," Malfoy replied, shaking his head slightly, "It's been a while since I've seen anyone from the wizarding world." He paused then added, "People from the past don't generally say kind things."

Harry hummed, "The wizarding world is full of hypocrites and people unwilling to see the wrong they themselves have done." He shook his head, "It's a lot. It's why I left."

He nodded to the door ahead of them, "This is my house," he added.

"It's nice," Draco said.

"Thanks," he grinned as he opened the door. "Sorry, I didn't realize that I would be having company or I would have cleaned up a little more," he added as he let Malfoy inside.

He took the harness off of her and let her investigate her surroundings.

"Did you say that you aren't expecting company?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, keeping one eye on the dog as he started setting up her little bed and basket of toys.

"But it's your birthday," he said.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment before clearing his throat, "Do you have a back yard?"

"Yes," he said, glad for the change of subject, "This way," he added, nodding toward the back door. "It's fenced in but it's not very big, I'll take her on walks," he hastened to add as he opened the door. Penelope wandered out and started sniffing around and something warm unfurled in Harry's chest just watching her.

The other boy glanced out the door and nodded, "This is fine, it passes the inspection."

"Good," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Come on, Penny," he called and the little dog perked her head up and came dashing across the yard and back into the house."

"Penny, huh?" Malfoy asked with an amused little smile.

"For short," Harry nodded.

"I like it," he said as they turned and headed inside. "Well, I'll get out of your hair-"

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Harry asked without really thinking about why.

Malfoy's brow furrowed, "Do you want me to?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "Only if you want to." When Malfoy didn't reply immediately he shook his head, "Never mind, it's silly. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm lonely, ignore me."

"No. I'd," he swallowed, "I'd like to stay for dinner, if you wanted. I just couldn't imagine that you'd want..." he trailed off.

"We're not the boys we were," Harry said, holding out a hand, "Harry Potter."

After a heartbeat Draco reached out and clasped his hand, "Draco Malfoy."

"Do you like pizza?" Harry asked.

He nodded, "As long as you don't put peppers on it."

"Done," he replied as Penny came over and put her paws up on his leg. He scooped her up and smiled, thinking for the first time in a long time that maybe everything was going to turn out alright.

------------

Sorry friends, this one really got away from me. It's super long. I hope that you still enjoy it! <3 Lots of love, -c

Day 107: Charge | Day 109: Coffee Shop

[snifflesthemouse]

There's a sense of freedom that comes with anonymity of online interactions. This sense of freedom only exists because of the fact it's difficult for the real world to catch up with you in your real life. Unless of course, you go after the wrong one.

When a person goes after someone else solely because they think differently or have a strong opposing opinion, they often do so with a false gusto and bravery that only exists in the virtual realm. Like many say online, "You'd never say that to my face." And that's true for most people... but not all people.

And because of this anonymity, that affords all internet users the freedom to say whatever, a real life concern spawns from a virtual world. This real life concern is often referred to as "doxxing" where one internet user uses what clues and resources they have available to "expose" another internet user's real life. This has happened to many people I watch on YouTube. Some have even had to involve the real life police, as well as uproot their entire lives and move because of doxxing.

For example, Murky Meg has been doxxed a couple times now. She's had her real life threatened by doxxing. Terrifyingly, she wasn't the only target threatened because the douche flutes also brought her children into it. Yes, the same people who worship the Montecito Madam and preach the mantras of "compassion and kindness" and "leave children out of this" have gone so far as to go after Murky Meg's real life and real life children. And sadly, the threats and attacks never really stop. Especially when articles like the one I wrote about make the rounds. But Murky Meg doesn't allow this all to silence her; she keeps calm and carries on regardless.

Another example involves Yankee Wally. She was targeted repeatedly over copyright infringement on her YouTube channel, as well as having her social media accounts suspended repeatedly over the last few years. And even though Yankee Wally has never pretended to be anything or anyone else than who she is in real life, people have attempted to use her past as a weapon to discredit her. Those attempts are futile, though, because Yankee Wally has always been open and honest about her life. She's also been very clear to the people watching her that she will fight back if need be.

Then there's According2Taz. While Taz has gone through the same ringer that so many others have gone through (from doxxing to threats, harassment, and verbal abuse), she has also been attacked financially. Especially when it comes to her supporting good causes. Some twat waffles have sent her £0.01 via PayPal with notes attached. Notes that are grossly abusive, calling her fat and ugly, and saying her husband is cheating on her. Others have sent requests asking her to pay them £100 with notes attacking HRH Catherine the Duchess of Cambridge and her book. Murky Meg got a similar request, as well. But the most heinous impediment coming from the Montecito Madam's extremists, involved charity. Once, when Taz was raising money for Australian wildlife affected by the wildfires; someone reported her PayPal account and those funds were held up for some time before getting released for the cause. Then, again, Taz was targeted when she was raising funds to help an elderly woman who got robbed. Yes, the very same people, who stand on custom-made soap boxes emblazoned with the Sussex monogram, did everything they possibly could to marginally disrupt charity. Yet Taz does not waiver; she keeps going.

As bad as Murky Meg, Yankee Wally, and Taz have had it, they're sadly not alone. No, they are only three examples from a plethora of examples. Of that plethora, one more example comes to mind. That example involves DanjaZone (Ashli).

Ashli, who started her YouTube channel before the whole Megxit ordeal as a way to keep in touch with family, was even the subject of a blind item from CDAN (crazy days and nights). You see, Ashli and her family lost everything they had in a horrible house fire. Rumors swirled around the fire, but the most heinous comments came from the Sussex Squad's more prominent loudmouths. Some accused Ashli of lying about the fire in an attempt to scam people for money. Others called her white trash and trailer trash. So while Ashli was going through the loss of her home and everything she owned... while she was grieving the loss of family pets and irreplaceable family mementos... while she was down and out on her luck and trying to cope with all the pain and loss... while she was going through all of the attacks from doubters saying she faked the fire or was lying, that she was trailer trash... the disciples of the Duchess were laughing and celebrating her pain as a win. Never once considering the fact that Ashli has been in recovery for years now, and the stress from the fire coupled with the heartless, feckless attacks, could in fact push her over the edge.

No, the very same people, who scream via CAPS lock on social media that critics of Meghan should "leave her alone", that her critics drove the Montecito Madam to "suicidal ideation while pregnant" could care less about Ashli's mental health. Yes, the very same people, who lodged over 50,000 OFCOM complaints against Piers Morgan because he questioned their beloved's outlandish attacks during the Oprah interview, previously found no issues with attacking Ashli during one of the hardest times in her life. Yet, Ashli picked up the pieces and never gave up or gave into their attacks.

Again, these four examples are just the tip of the hypocritical iceberg. There are countless more examples out there. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people who criticize Meghan's and Harry's behaviors can all relate. Nobody is safe or off limits from this iceberg; from Royal Rota reporters, celebrities, and politicians to regular people who aren't rich, famous, or in possession of a global platform.

Yet nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, in the media or in journalism ever cover any of this. You can find articles galore written with the intentions of exposing "Meghan Markle Haters". Articles like the one I wrote about attacking critics and reducing us all to the stereotypes of racist, misogynist, bigot, envious, etc.

What that does is send a clear, prominent message to the people who cling to every word of the Montecito Madam. The people who cling to the wind coming from her mouth, her "close friends" or fake "palace insiders" hear those dog whistles loud and clear. The dog whistles that say "It's okay, keep attacking and hurting people. They're evil, hateful racists. They deserve the abuse. You're on the side of good. Go harder!"

When in truth, the wind they cling to coming from their beloved's mouth or mouthpieces is actually falsehoods, lies, and manifestations of grandeur that is no more real than Netflix's The Crown. No, the wind they cling to really comes from the south mouth of their beloved. But God forbid anyone hold their little cult accountable.

We cannot have a society where sensationalism trumps truth. We cannot weaponize the press and use it against people simply because they criticize the Meghan Markles of the world. It is unacceptable for the press, media platforms, or anyone with a prominent influence on society, to celebrate defenders of the Meghan Markle faith without first acknowledging the truth.

The truth, which is often dream dashing and harsh, is that "Meghan Markle Lovers" could care less about compassion, kindness, charity, children, or community. The truth is, they could care less about forgiveness or loving thy neighbors. We don't have to look to their savior figurehead to prove this to be true. We only have to look at the comments section or Twitter.

Those of us who criticize or dislike Meghan and Harry because of their behavior know all too well the truth will never be written up on the front page of the Sun, the Daily Mail, or People Magazine. The mirage of us being the racists, misogynists, or detesting haters sells papers. And the papers don't want to be in that same category.

Maybe one day the press will tell the stories of people like Murky Meg, Yankee Wally, Taz, Ashli, and countless others in an effective way that exposes the real haters in the relationship. Maybe one day, the victims of the Montecito Madam's cult following will be doxxed, exposed, and sent a new message. A message that says, "We see you for the hypocrites you are. You may repeat the preachings of your Madam like it's the new woke gospel, but you don't practice it. You're a big reason why people loathe your beloved. You make her look worse. You aren't defending her, you are condemning her. Keep it up, because we see you and we will expose you!"

If only...

[unnecessarywriting]

Him? That’s My Dad - Fred Weasley

Requested: Hi! Can I get a Fred x reader where the reader is Sirius’ child and is best friends with the twins and when he first sees them they are maybe pranking snape and maybe they reunite in the shack cause they are protecting Harry and just fluff really? A/N: Thank you for requesting. First I want to apologize for the wait, but I had some personal stuff going on and I needed some time off. Also, I was a bit confused by your request, so I took it into my hands and tried to match it to the best of my ability, but if you want me to write something else (More of what you wanted) just let me know and I'll write something new! Requests are still open of course, and I hope you all enjoy!!!

ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS

Him? That’s My Dad

Fifth year at Hogwarts meant that there was a lot of chaos, not to mention that you were dating one of the biggest pranksters in Hogwarts history. Fred had been there in your life from the beginning of your Hogwarts experience. Despite your last name and the reputation that comes with it, you were able to have a decent time with Fred and George by your side. By third year, you had become very close with the twins, and they even began to include you in their schemes. When Fred asked you out in fourth year, you began your work at becoming one of the masterminds behind some, if you dare say, epic pranks. Then, fifth year came around, and well, the chaos of OWLs ensued, and so did your more personal issues. 

You had been aware of the return of your father, or rather the escape of the murderer who just so happened to share your DNA. Were you happy that he was out? Well, that question was difficult for you. On one hand, he may have murdered a whole lot of people, and he may have been involved with the dark lord, resulting in making an orphan out of Harry and you. On the other hand, he could be innocent and have a real reason for not making more of an attempt to get out of Azkaban.

Before Sirius was sent away for the murder of the muggles and Peter, your mother had died. Luckily for you, Remus was made your godfather, which gave you a home, but Remus was sure to never overstep his role. He had never wanted to imitate a father to you, but there were times in which you wished it had happened. When you found out that he would be a professor at Hogwarts, you couldn’t tell if you were happy to spend more time with him, or worried that he would become too involved in your personal business. You knew Remus found education very important, as did you, however, spending time with Fred and George was sometimes prioritized. Not to mention, Remus was not familiar with your relations to one of the twins. 

You were sitting in the great hall with the twins trying to study, but you couldn’t help but overhear some of the murmurs from around the room. There was a lot more hatred pointed towards you because of the Sirius situation. It was hard to focus on too much that was meant to be actually important to you. Fred saw this, and he was right by your side to remind you of how amazing you were, and not to let the actions of your father define.

“You’re not like Malfoy. Who your father is, and what he has done is not a reflection of who you are. Now, let’s do something to get your mind off of all of those gits.” He motioned to where some other students were loudly whispering. You smiled at him and turned your attention to what George was working on.

“Who’s it for?” A simple question, but the answer would be the secret to your happiness.

“Snape.”

~ A Dog Tale ~

Sirius had his reasons for escaping Azkaban. When he visited Harry, he was in emotional turmoil. He felt terrible for being trusted by his best friend to take care of his son, and yet he failed. Then Sirius thought of you. He was never ready for a child of his own, but he was ready to give anything for your well-being. Him and your mother were not in a real relationship at the time, but he was heartbroken that she had died. He worried about his daughter and the lack of a mother figure, but he was sure that he would do everything he could to give you the life you deserved. When he was sent to Azkaban, however, he didn’t know how to react.

While he was not the one to sell out his friends, he was guilty for wrongly putting trust in someone. He spent his time repenting for making those choices. He reminded himself of his innocence, but there was a part of him that believed that he belonged there. Often, he would find himself thinking about you. He wondered what you looked like and what your personality was like. Did you take after him? Were you happy? Did you miss him? These questions lived in his head everyday, but he needed to grieve and take accountability for his crimes. 

When he got out, he wanted to go and find you, but he knew you were with Remus, and he was aware that Remus was very careful. His old friend knew about Padfoot, and for certain, he was keeping a close eye for any dog that came near you. He knew that he needed to go to Hogwarts to get to the rat he once called a friend, but there was a part of him that was convinced his main reason for returning was to answer those questions that had been eating away at him. 

When he first saw you, he knew exactly who he was looking at. You were the spitting image of your mother. Despite his dog form, he couldn’t help but feel a smile come on. Without thinking, he let out a bark and a whimper. He watched as your head whipped around to look at him. You stared at him with confusion written on your face, but you quickly returned to the twins that were beside you. He whimpered quietly to himself, but he refused to take his eyes off of you. You had grown up so beautifully, and from the looks of it, you were a bit mischievous yourself. 

He recognized the sound of a particular person he wished that he could remove from his memory. Snape. The git himself was a professor at Hogwarts. Of course. He pointed his gaze at your sudden change in demeanor. You got down and cast a spell. One of the twins towered over you as they cast another one. The other twin seemed to be the lookout. After hexing the greasy professor, the three ran off in a direction that would allow them to watch the mayhem ensue without getting caught. 

He also watched on the sidelines. He saw the obvious immediate spell cast. It was simple. A color change to the hair. He was concerned that this was the best that the three of you could do, but then he thought that there had to be more to it than what meets the average eye. He hoped that if he got to meet you, he would be able to ask you about it. Then he saw Snape’s legs start to falter, and he ultimately collapsed to the ground with an angry grunt. Sirius did everything he could to keep the laughing quiet, but it was riveting to see his old rival take such a nasty fall, especially at the hand of his daughter. His heart filled with pride knowing that she may not look like him, but she definitely took after him.

Sirius looked over at where you were hiding and watched as you hugged the twins. Then he watched you do the unthinkable.

~ What did you do? ~

When Fred and George had a plan, you liked to add a little bit of your own spice to the mix. You liked adding something that could only be thought of by you. Nothing was different with your prank with Snape. It was simple really. The twins had this new, altered version of the hair color changing spell. The plan was to make it near impossible to get rid of it. In fact, there was a particular potion that was needed to remove the effects of it, however, they weren’t planning on giving it to Snape too soon. The counter jinx would only change the color on Snape’s head. You thought it was genius, but there was a part of you that wanted a bigger reaction.

“Okay, I think that it’s great, but what if, and just hear me out, we change his feet.”

“What does that mean?” Your boyfriend looked at you intrigued by your suggestion.

“It’s easy really, there is an opposites spell that I found, and it would allow me to change his left foot to his right and his right to the left. It could be reversed, but there is a specific spell to do it, and I doubt Snape would know what it is.” George laughed at the idea of Snape trying to stand up without knowing how to fix his issue.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you,” Fred said as he placed a peck on your lips.

The three of you had learned which hallway Snape would be in, and you made your way in that direction. The three of you stood in the hallway chatting, so as not to raise any particular suspicion to your actions. You heard a bark from behind you, and you turned your head in that direction. There stood a large black dog. He looked as though he was trying to smile, but he also looked like he was punched in the head. You gazed at the dog to see if it was deranged or just a strangely happy dog. Eventually, you turned your attention back to the twins.

You heard the slow footsteps of the annoying professor, and you all got into position as you awaited with a nervous excitement. You ducked down to get a more accurate aim at his feet, and Fred towered above you where he focused his attention to the top of the greasy haired man. You both carefully cast your spells and retreated to a nearby space to watch the chaos unfold. As Snape fell, you laughed quietly. When he angrily struggled to stand up, the three of you had to move slightly to avoid bringing attention to how much you were enjoying his struggle. You hugged George, congratulating him on a good idea and a successful prank. Then you hugged Fred and pulled him in for a joyful, passionate kiss. You both pulled away and smiled at each other, while George awkwardly evaded his gaze. You felt eyes boring into you, so you turned your eyes to the culprit. The dog from before looked furious. Then, he began to run away.

“Hey, I’m gonna go for a walk, but I’ll catch up with you two later. Alright?” The twins nodded, but Fred was a bit suspicious of your sudden change in behavior. He kept his eyes on you and watched the direction you walked towards, but he kept his distance. He didn’t want to intrude on your time to yourself.

You followed the dog and watched as it ran into the Whomping Willow. You had a feeling you knew what was going on. You had often referred to Remus as Uncle Moony. When the twins showed you the map, you had a feeling that there was a connection. Cue you Sherlock skills. You thought about the other names on the map and tried to connect them to Remus’ friends.

“Uncle Moony?”

“Yes?” His gaze lifted from the Daily Prophet to your inquisitive face.

“When you were in school, did you ever feel connected to the animals there?”

“Why do you ask?” You needed to cover your ground otherwise he wasn’t going to give any information. 

“Well, I know that you don’t remember the events of what happens when you change, but I just wondered if there was ever some sort of connection with the animals on the grounds. I have found that there are some friendly deer around. I’ve also seen a few rats and mice wander around the castle.” You were trying to hint to some of the hints from the map. Prongs being a deer and Wormtail being a rat. Remus chuckled at your words.

“Yes, the deer and rats can be quite kind and they can often invade your personal space. Not to mention the wild dogs. Those can be the most intrusive creatures on the grounds.” A dog. That was the last detail you needed. Padfoot. Now you just needed to figure out who was who. 

In your years at Hogwarts, it was relatively rare to find a dog on the grounds. That didn’t mean that it never happened, but this dog seemed different, and you had a hunch as to what was going on. You stood far away from the tree and contemplated going into the whole that the dog ran into. If you were right, then you could easily be heading to your one way trip to the afterlife, but you wanted to protect the people you cared about at all costs. You didn’t trust the professors with this information, and Remus was no exception. Harry had become a friend to you over the years, and if the disgusting rumors held true, this could be your chance to help him. Afterall, this was your father who was trying to kill Harry. The least you could do is fight this man and prove that you were capable of not being like him. 

You ran by the swinging branches and launched yourself into the whole. You found yourself in what appeared to be the shrieking shack. The floorboards creaked all around you. You pulled the wand out from your pocket and pointed in the direction you were walking. Eventually, you found yourself face to face with the dog.

“You know, I had a feeling you were the dog. Remus never admitted to anything, but something about all that he told me about you just reminded me of a dog. You don’t have to stay in that ridiculous form since I know it’s you.” You were surprised by your own confidence, but twelve years of anger can spark a lot. Suddenly, you were met with the man you thought you would never see again. You raised the wand up to his face, and locked your jaw in anger. 

“You look just like your mother Y/N. I know you think I’m a murderer, but that’s not the case. I’m innocent. Why don’t you lower your wand and we can talk this through.” He spoke carefully and clearly so as not to push you to hex him into another life.

“I don’t know why you came here, but I’m not going to let you hurt Harry, and I sure as hell am not going to let my guard down. You escaped from Azkaban for murder. Did you really think that I was going to believe you? Honestly, you must really be an idiot. Even if you are innocent, you let Harry and I live without you. You were supposed to be there for us.” You yelled the last line with an anger you didn’t know you had. “You were supposed to be there for me.” Your voice was low and full of pain. Sirius felt everything you said to him.

“I know, but allow me to explain.” You kept your wand in place as Sirius told his story. He explained how he was framed by Peter, and his reasoning for returning to Hogwarts. “You’re right. I should've done more to be there for you, but I can’t change the past. I sure as hell am never going to forgive myself for allowing you to grow up without me. I’m here now though. I know that I cannot make up the lost time, but I can try like hell to be there for you now. I have no right to ask for anything but I beg you to give me a chance to be in your life.” 

You lowered your wand and sat down on the nearest surface. Sirius sighed at the removal of the threat. He stayed silent as he watched you think about everything he said. He knew it was a lot for you to handle. It was a lot for anyone to handle. Neither of you were aware of how long you both sat there, but when you heard a distant creak and the familiar call of your name, you both launched into action. Sirius transformed into Padfoot.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Fred appeared in the doorway and sighed at the sight of you. “George, she’s in here. Darling, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you for hours. You had us both worried.” He pulled you into a tight embrace and kissed the top of your head. You breathed in his scent and smiled. Maybe having your dad in your life wouldn’t be so terrible. You thought about Fred and your future together often. You thought about what it may be like to have someone that you could call your dad be there to watch you achieve all of the milestones in your life, and be there for any future children you may have. You thought about how happy Fred and George were with their family, and how jealous you were of their parents.

“Were you just here with a dog all of this time?” George asked as he walked into the room. Fred moved his gaze to the big, black dog in the room. You giggle quietly.

“Oh him? That’s my dad.” You smiled and sat next to the dog and gave him a reassuring look. “And judging by the way he’s looking at you Fred, he doesn’t seem too happy that his only daughter is dating someone.” Padfoot offered a small growl at your boyfriend who was both confused and slightly scared. 

“Y/N. I think you might be losing it.” George muttered. You laughed and motioned for Sirius to regain his human form. The look of fear and shock on the twins’ faces were priceless.

“Mr. Weasley I presume.” Sirius held out his hand. Apparently the Weasley hair was something that exceeded generation. Fred reached out his hand to meet your dad’s and he muttered his response. “I understand that you are dating my daughter. I will allow this, however, after I am proven innocent, and we can have a word alone, I think we should get to know one another. Thoroughly.” You watched the interaction with joy. You knew that sirius was pranking Fred, although there was a bit of seriousness in his tone as well.

“Boys, I assume that I don’t need to tell you that the knowledge of Sirius should remain a secret. I will also say that he is of no threat to any of us, so there is no need to worry.” You grabbed Fred’s hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I think that you two should return to the school. I’m going to stay here a bit longer, but I am perfectly fine.” You kissed Fred’s cheek and gave a side hug to George as they wandered out of the shack. They weren’t happy that you were left alone with someone who was notorious for mass murder, but they understood that you wouldn’t put everyone in danger.

“So, you’ve taken to pranking old Snivellus eh?” You laughed and nodded. You wouldn’t have expected your day to go from terrible to one with an amazing boyfriend, and a supportive dad, but fate works in mysterious ways.