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in-a-mountain-pool · 10 months

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The Boy Who Swallowed a Dragon's Fire

Aemond Targaryen x Original Character (Reader)

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: T

warnings: So fluffy it made me feel sick~

word count: 4500+

summary: Interesting things did seem to happen, but always to somebody else. This is, until the night of the hunt to celebrate your younger sister's marriage to her Lannister lion of a husband.

"You live inside my memories, you live forever into the melody of a brook, in the colour of this sky, in the fragrance of flowers."

The Promise of the World

authors note: I have returned from my holibobs! I've been listening to Joe Hisaishi for weeks as I've been lucky enough to get tickets to see him in London! I couldn't stop thinking about Aemond whenever I heard "A Walk in the Skies" from Howl's Moving Castle, and suddenly this little plot bunny formed. As always, likes, comments and reblogs are not a requirement, but lovely to return to. Huge thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs and @bottlesandbarricades for reading over this!

You had always hated the hunt.

Even more so the feasts afterwards and the raucous way the men would stomp around in all their armour and grandeur, proud to be covered in the blood of whatever poor animal they'd had the dumb luck to stumble upon in the woods.

The grounds of the Eyrie were covered in a rainbow patchwork of tents of all shapes and sizes. From the sky blue and silver colours of your own family to the deep black and red hues of the house of the dragon; anyone who was anyone was in attendance for this summer's eve. Smoke and the smells of spoils of barbecued boar and deer filled the air, spilt wine and blood-soaked deep into the ground beneath their feet.

And all of this, was to celebrate the wedding of your younger sister, the Lady Myranda Arryn, to her golden Lannister Lion of a husband.

You were the second daughter of the Lord of the Vale, and much to your parent’s despair, the only remaining daughter unmarried; the Lady Robyn Arryn. You had been overlooked almost all of your life, the short one with mousy brown hair and a face you had been told was 'fair but plain' on more than one occasion. When you had been lined up to greet the crowds of prospective Lord's your father had hoped to wed you to, yours was a face they often forgot.

Whilst your sisters had spent their opening seasons being dragged onto the dance floors of halls all over Westeros, you had often remained on the sidelines, slipping out as early as possible to peruse the vast libraries of the great houses you had been so lucky to visit. You still remembered the day you visited the libraries of the Red Keep after the wedding of King Viserys and Alicent Hightower. Even at the innocent age of five it had left a great impression on your mind and soul.

Ever since, your heart had ached to read every book you could get your hands on, to visit the great citadel at Hightower and to seek out the secrets of the magical world around you. The smell of an old library full of scrolls and parchment was your idea of home, of heaven… yet here you were sitting in a muggy tent at an ungodly hour, pretending to seem impressed when your new golden-haired brother-in-law brandishes the pike he'd used to gut the very boar you were eating.

You can hardly hide the distaste on your face as he shoves the pike into his squire’s hands and takes a long swig from an obnoxiously large tankard of ale, with a bejewelled lions head on the side, before pulling your sister onto his lap to stick his tongue down her throat.

With a snivelling sneer he proclaimed out loud, "I do not know what a finer conquest is, the boar I stuck this morn, or the falcon I'm going to stick tonight!"

The room explodes with the sounds of the laughter of drunken men, slamming their glasses on tables and cheering on the young lion who currently had his hand up your younger sister’s skirt.

You could hardly stand it, the disrespect, the brazen attitude of it all. Memories of your sister's childhood rush through your mind, her love of the great romantic knights, tales of gentle touches, roses and chivalry… none of which were present in this tent, at this lavish wedding party. Bile raised in your throat as a deep-seated anger filled your body, and you stand up suddenly to speak, the throw pillows underneath you falling to the ground.

Before you can spit out your vitriol, you feel a large hand on your shoulder. It was your father. He pulls you to the side pressing a goblet of wine into your hands, whispering harshly to you over bards playing the Rains of Castamere. You swore they'd already played it at least five times this eve.

"Robyn. You will do well to remember yourself. The Lannisters are family now. You should be proud of your young sister. Tis’ a good match."

You barely get to open your mouth in protest when you notice your father’s eyes flash to someone across the room, and before you know it, his hand is pressed to your back, guiding you towards a crooked old man who must have been at least twice your age.

"Lord Royce! Have you met my fair Daughter, Lady Robyn?"

Lord Royce looks you up and down with a disgusting glint in his eye, licking his lips to catch the wine he'd almost poured down his chin just a second before. You see he has a few teeth missing, and a slight shaking in the hand clutching at his wine.

"I do believe we have; I was present at her christening in the Sept of Baelor. My, how she has grown. A Lady now indeed." He drawls, slurring his words.

Your father gives him a tight smile and gestures between you both drunkenly, before shooting you a glare and all but shoving you towards the older man, "Well then, you will have much to talk about and catch up on! Mayhap a dance on this joyous of occasions?"

"Father, I-" There was no time to express your displeasure, for Lord Royce had already dragged you to the centre of the tent, his gnarled hand wrapped around yours in a vice grip and his ringed fingers digging into your skin painfully. He spun you around in time with the other dancers, his hand lingering on your waist for all too longer than necessary at every opportunity. The smell of his breath was pungent and rotten as he leaned forward to whisper into your ear.

"To think I have not laid eyes on you since you were a babe." Lord Royce's hand slips down your waist to your hip and further still to squeeze at the soft swell of your behind with a wicked chuckle. "You are a babe no longer it seems…"

A soft yelp escapes your throat, your eyes wide with shock and fear. No one had even noticed you shriek, the music too loud, the flow of wine too heady, the heat of the night all too great. You wretch your body away from him in distaste.

"My Lord, forgive me but you forget your manners! Touch me again and I will summon my sword."

A cruel grin spreads across his face, his missing teeth giving a lispy rasp to his voice as he suppresses his own laughter. "It makes no difference to me, I am afraid. Your sword is soon to be my sword, my dear. Tis' already decided. We had best practice our dances, for soon we will be dancing at our very own wedding feast."

A cold chill runs down your spine as the reality of the situation hits you like a bucket of ice-cold water. Father planned to marry you to Lord Royce. He needed to secure his Bannerman. You were the last unmarried daughter. It was two birds with one stone.

You stumble backwards, almost tripping on a discarded tankard on the floor of the tent, shaking your head over and over. It couldn't be true. Surely Father wouldn't be so heartless? Your vision tunnels as your feet carry you away hastily out of the tent and into the humid summer air, all to the sound of Lord Royce's cruel laughter.

Your slippered feet ache as you run away, disoriented and panting, tears streaming down your face. Shakily you grab a black discarded cape hung on the back of a chair, shrouding yourself and running as fast as you can through the hunt.

Colours of the great houses flash you by, the white falcon, the rich gold and reds of the lion, the silver wolf, all passing over you in a blur… and when you finally stop, you've ran so far you had hardly noticed the colours had turned black as night, with the blood red sigil of the three-headed dragon flying lazily upon banners in the dull summer's breeze.

You were no longer in the Lion's den; you'd wandered somewhere far more frightening… straight into the Dragon's hoard. Only your father, sister and her new husband had been allowed into the royal tents, to present themselves to the good King Viserys. If they caught you here alone and unchaperoned your reputation would be ruined.

With shaking hands, you wrap the dirty cloak around your shoulders tighter to hide the rich azure blue of your dress, as you creep away from the large tents and towards the woods at the outskirts of the camp. It was either you brave the dangers of the wood for the night, or return to the clutches of Lord Royce.

With a heavy heart you plunge deeper into the darkness of the woods. Settling upon a tree stump beside a small creek, your gaze falls upon your once silver slippers, now ruined and caked in mud. There was once a time when you would have cared about such a thing, but now all you could feel was numbness in your soul which made your whole body cold. Your hands were tied and there was nowhere to run. Life was not a beautiful song, or a romantic tale of heroes and great loves. You break into a sob, burying your face into your hands, heaving breaths leaving your chest.

You had done well to get away without an arranged marriage for this long. At the age of twenty-five you had come to be considered an old maid amongst the court. Now, gone was the age of innocence, and the dreams that you might one day experience true love.

*Crack*

The silence of the wood and the night air was broken by the snapping of twigs underfoot, as slowly from the distance two figures emerged from the brush. Your body freezes as you see the sigil on their breastplates. A shower of pebbles upon an orange square. It was two knights sworn to the House Royce. They saunter over to you smirking, as you scurry off the stump to lean against a great oak trunk protectively. The larger of the two men places his hand to lean just above your head, peering down at you with a smirk.

"Looks like a little falcon chick has lost her way."

You shake your head nervously, paling as you realise that you are so deep into the woods that no one would hear you scream. No matter how hard you try.

"No- No, I'm not lost. I-"

They share a look between them, reeking of ale and blood.

"I think this little falcon chick looks thirsty. I think we should take her for a cup of ale, don't you? Lord Royce wouldn't mind."

His eyes flicker to yours with a glassy look, he was drunk, they both were. And you'd heard stories of what drunk men like him did to women like you.

"No, no thank you. My sister will be expecting me."

They lean closer still, the smaller one getting so close you can feel the heat of his body towering over you.

"She's pretty cute for a little falcon chick. How old are you, anyway? You live up in the big castle, dontcha?" He tries to grab at your wrist, but you wrestle it away violently.

"Leave me alone!"

The taller man chuckled darkly, shooting a derisive look at the shorter knight, "You see? Your big old beard always scares off the pretty girls."

"So? I'd say she's even cuter when she's scared, don't you think?"

You decide your only chance is to run. You'd never outrun them, but you had to try. Blood starts pumping through your veins, the adrenaline hitting you as you get ready to sprint, but as soon as you try to retreat away your back hits something hard and warm… and a slender hand places itself gently on your shoulder.

A deep voice speaks down into your ear, tickling warmly at the soft skin of your neck.

"There you are sweetheart, sorry I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you."

The two men stand up straighter ready to fight with their hands upon the hilts of their broadswords.

"Hey- can you not see that we're busy here? Lord Royce wants her back in one piece."

The cloaked man behind you grips your shoulder tighter still, almost protectively. The only part of him visible to you is the curling of his lips, which seemed to twitch at the knight's words uneasily. The deep voice behind you lets out a dark chuckle before he brandishes a large sword with a black hilt, shining in the moonlight… Valyrian steel.

"Are you really? It looked to me that the two of you were just leaving."

At the sight of Valyrian steel the two men cower and shift themselves quickly, bowing at the mystery man and sprinting off into the dark of the wood. Slowly the tall man takes down his hood, and the first thing that strikes you is the glinting of long silver hair in the moonlight… and a single lilac eye searching yours.

It was him, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Aemond One-Eye.

He reaches up ever so gently to take down the hood of your dirtied cloak, his finger brushing your cheek tentatively as he does so before he takes your hand in his and bows down to kiss the back of it with the ghost of a touch of his lips.

"Lady Robyn Arryn. My apologies for not finding you sooner. Where to? I will be your escort this evening."

Words fail you as he continues to hold your hand in his like it was made of porcelain. He almost has to bend down to speak to you he was so tall and imposing, yet there's a deep kindness in his eye that has you transfixed. You'd never met him, but you'd heard the stories. He was quiet and cruel. Studious. A loner through and through. And a demon with a sword.

"Prince Aemond- I-" you try to courtesy, but he continues to hold your hand firmly, shaking his head and chuckling.

"That won't be necessary. Now tell me, where do you wish to go? You must be desperate to brave the woods all on your own." He almost whispers as he speaks, his words delicate and falling off his tongue like the sweetest honey.

You decide to tell the truth, you had no choice, he was the prince, and… he was startlingly handsome in a way that made your chest ache and your fingers itch.

"Please, my Prince, if you would escort me home? I- I cannot go back to the camp. I must not. My father- the Lord of the Vale, he wishes to marry me to Lord Royce the Elder and-"

Suddenly he lifts his hand to quiet you and surveys your surroundings, his sharp jawline prominent and strong against the night. He drops your hand in favour of wrapping his arm protectively around your shoulders, cradling you to his side and walking you both swiftly forward, as his silver hair tickles you at the collar of your low-cut dress.

"Don't be alarmed, but we’re being followed by more of his men. Just act normal."

Aemond is so close you can smell him. He was still wearing his riding leathers from the hunt, smelling like sweat, ash and the damp night air in a way that was all too intoxicating. There's something else there too, something smoky that you can't quite put your finger on. Aemond's touch was different from any other man that had placed their hands on you. He felt safe, warm, inviting and oh so protective of you.

You steal a look at his face in the moonlight as you walk and find he's far more beautiful than the stories give him credit for. It was true what they said that Targaryen's were closer to gods than men, for the beautiful creature next to you could hardly even be human. His profile was enough to make you ache with desire in a way no man had ever produced in you.

*Snap*

Another twig cracked underfoot. Aemond's face dipped down once again close to yours to whisper into your ear, watching your face carefully.

"More of Royce's men. It would appear I am to become involved in a scandal." Aemond sighs and growls slightly in annoyance. His hand releases your shoulder and slides down, enveloping your own in a strong grip. "Now, when I say run, run, ok?"

Further twigs start to snap underfoot behind you, the sound of chainmail in the distance now impossible to ignore.

"This way. Run!" He whispers, pulling you along with him.

His long legs pelt into the ground, his cloak billowing behind him, and his silver hair shining like starlight under the full moon. It's a challenge keeping up with him, his legs are so much longer than yours, but he never let's go for even a moment. All of a sudden you're pulled into a large opening in the woods and a strange burning smell fills your nose… as you’re brought face to face with the largest dragon in the world. Vhagar.

“Wha- Prince Aemond!? What are you suggesting? You can’t be serious!” Your feet dig into the ground as you pull against him, but this only makes him grin wider and chuckle darkly. The rational part of your brain tells you he’s insane, that the stories were indeed true and that you should scream… but then a flicker of wonder appeared in your mind, the very same flicker you felt when you stood in the library in the Red Keep all those years ago.

There in front of you in the flesh was a real dragon, over 150 years old. And beside her, a silver-haired, Targaryen prince. This is it; you think to yourself. All those books you had read, all those stories of old, stories of good triumphing over evil… here was your chance to live it.

“Oh, I’m deadly serious. You do want to go home, do you not? The Eyrie is situated on the top of a mountain, as I recall. Vhagar and I can have you home and in bed safe and sound in mere moments...” He teases excitedly, before his voice and face drops to a more serious and soft tone, his long index finger coming up to raise your chin to look him directly into his eye.

“… Can you trust me?”

The sounds of shouting and swords leaving their hilts echo behind you. Your eyes shift from his striking face down to his hand as he reaches it out to you invitingly. Inhaling a deep breath and closing your eyes for a moment, you utter out an answer grasping his hand in yours.

“Yes. I trust you.”

A small smile you almost miss etches itself onto his face before he leads you swiftly over to the old dragon, pulling on a large black leather coat and passing you his dark hooded cloak.

“You will need the extra layer, my Lady. Now... May I lift you? You will need to climb up to the saddle, and I fear we do not have much time.”

A deep pink blush covers your cheeks at the thought of his strong arms carrying you. There is barely any time to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before Aemond is grasping you at the waist and thrusting you up onto the ropes leading up to Vhagar’s saddle. His hands are so large on your body that they almost encompass your middle section completely. Aemond follows closely behind, catching you a few times to steady you as your foot misses the gaps in the ropes clumsily.

You pull yourself up with a strength you never knew you had, settling into the saddle nervously. You could feel Vhagar breathing underneath you, feel her stretching out at the command of Aemond who was shouting out words in a tongue you’d never heard before. Of course… he was speaking High Valyrian.

“Rȳbagon naejot nyke, Vhagar. Heed ñuha udra.” Ready yourself, Vhagar. Heed my words.

Aemond all but jumps up to the saddle, and with a heavy thud he settles himself behind you. When he scoots forwards to grab at the chains hanging at your side, an even deeper blush covers your face and neck, heat pooling in your stomach. The hard plane of his chest presses against your back, the top of his thighs nudging the underside of your own, now bare as you straddle the seat.

“My apologies, Lady Robyn, but I must strap us to the saddle, and you to me lest we fall.” He laughs softly as he feels you tense against him in fear. “But we won’t, I promise you. I’d never let any harm come to you.”

With deft hands he ties the chains across your lap and his, wrapping a rope around your waist to secure you to him. All at once it hits you just how crazy the situation had become.

“Prince Aemond… I’m frightened! Please, let me off! I can’t do this!”

Aemond leans forward to grab for the reins, his arms tight either side of you, and his chin just above your ear. With hushed tones, he stops you, whispering into your ear.

“Yes. Yes, you can. You are of the Vale. You are of the sky. You and I are made of the same… We own the skies, little Falcon.”

Determination fills you, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You had to do whatever it takes. You would make your own destiny. You would make it out of here. You place your hands on the reigns next to his, so small and delicate next to his large strong fists.

“That’s my girl…” He murmurs, and you swear you can feel the crinkle of his smile against your hair before he shouts out to Vhagar.

“Vhagar, ñuha jorrāelagon, urnēptre īlva se nūmāzma hen speed!” Vhagar, my love, show us the meaning of speed!

Aemond places his hand over yours suddenly on the rope, making your heart surge.

“Hold on!”

With a deep rumble, the ground shakes, it feels like the Earth is turning when Vhagar moves to stand on her haunches. Already you are above the trees, and she had not even taken off yet. Vhagar lets out a deep roar stretching her neck into the sky, the screams of Lord Royce’s men in the woods beneath echoing around her as they scramble to run away. She stretches out her wings beating them and like a hurricane they ascend into the night sky.

The forests fade beneath you, deep greens become soft pillowy whites as you soar into the clouds together. After a short while Vhagar’s wings extend, bringing you to a slow glide just above the clouds.

“Now, straighten your posture against me… and see, you’re flying!”

A rich and infectious laugh leaves his throat as the wind surrounds you. The careful pins and ties in your hair are long forgotten, your hair now cascading behind you, flying free.

You can’t help it, you’re not sure if it’s the euphoria of the dragon flight, the drama of the night, or the way Aemond had wrapped himself around you so, but soon you’re laughing with him, exclaiming out loud in a way that was hardly lady-like.

“See? My dear, you are a natural!”

“Prince Aemond, this is incredible! Vhagar, she is magnificent!”

“Se dōna riña thinks iksā gevie, Vhagar!” The sweet girl thinks you are beautiful, Vhagar! Aemond releases a deep belly laugh, slapping the side of Vhagar’s neck fondly.

With a shaking roar, a shooting of flames and sparks spit from Vhagar’s mouth.

He cranes his neck to look at you closely, a warm smile gracing his cat-like lips. “I think she likes you, Lady Robyn! Why don’t you tell her yourself!”

“I am thoroughly impressed, Vhagar! You are a first-class dragon; I adore your spark!” You shout to the ancient dragon as loud as you can against the rushing winds, almost as if you were praising a rather large scaly cat. The rumble that leaves her jaws sounds like a purr, almost the same way her master was chuckling behind you.

Beneath you the clouds become a mismatch of greens and multicoloured tents as you approach the grounds of the Eyrie. From up here you could see the ancient castle in all its beauty. Situated in the Mountains of the Moon and surrounded by cotton clouds, at this height it almost seemed small, like a child’s playset. The waterfall, Alyssa’s tears cascaded down the side of the Giant’s Lance, reflecting off the marble walls of High Hall.

“It’s beautiful… It’s gorgeous, Aemond! It’s like a dream…” For the first time in years, you feel truly alive, and it’s all because of him.

With a whoosh of her wings, Vhagar descends towards the castle and the Maiden’s Tower and it hits you that Aemond really meant what he’d said about having you home and in bed before you knew it.

“Prince Aemond… You’re not- You don’t expect me to climb through the window?!”

A snickering laugh escapes him as he presses his head against yours. You swear for a moment you can feel him smelling your hair, the thought making your thighs clench.

“Of course not. I intend to carry you through the window.”

“What?!” You utter before he shouts over your protests to his Dragon.

“Konīr Vhagar, tegun īlva!” There Vhagar! Land us.

Vhagar’s wings billow out behind her, as she hovers down, clutching to the mountainside and the tower, bringing you level with the balcony of your chambers.

Quietly and ever so gently, he undoes the chains around you both, and the soft rope securing you to his front. Aemond swings his legs to the side, and clambers down the ropes at Vhagar’s large neck. There’s a confident look in his eyes and a glint of warmth as he reaches his arms out towards you, one leg propped up onto the edge of the balcony.

“Come down with me… I promise I’ll catch you. Vhagar already loves you, she’ll be still.”

You take a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling before you climb down slowly and turn to face the Prince. His words from earlier echo in your mind… Trust me.

And you did. Without any hesitation you jump from the ropes and into the warm, strong arms of Aemond Targaryen. He cradles you to him in a bridal carry, strong legs pushing you forward through the balcony doors to place you down softly on the chaise lounge next to your fireplace.

A thousand thoughts run through your head as he lingers closely to you, laying you down gently. Aemond’s lilac eye searches yours intensely, his hand still resting beneath your neck, caressing the soft hairs at the nape.

“My lady… Robyn… you were spectacular tonight,” He swallows softly as his gaze slides down to your slim neck and collarbones, whispering your house words to himself as much as you in wonder, “As High as Honor.”

Slowly, he leans forward, staring at your bottom lip passionately. Your eyes flutter shut, your eyelashes batting against your cheek. With a gentle caress of your hair, he presses the tenderest of kisses, the only kiss you’d ever had, to your lips.

It lasted but a moment, but you knew it would stay with you forever.

Aemond pulls away gingerly, his silver hair tickling your chest. Like a knight from a storybook, he stands up tall and bows, taking your hand in his to kiss at the back of it with unearthly grace.

“… My lady, do not leave your room, keep the door locked… I will return to you soon.”

He moves to leave quickly, the sound of Vhagar rumbling outside the balcony doors. Before he can clamber over the side of the fencing you find the courage to stop him, calling from your room.

“Aemond! Aemond wait… Where are you going?”

With a flick of his silver hair, he throws a radiant smile to you over his shoulder, his lilac eye shining in the moonlight.

“To see my father. You will not be wed to Lord Royce… And I plan to fly with you till the end of my days.”

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #howl's moving castle #hotd fanfiction #aemond one eye #fics by me

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tmbgareok · 2 months

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So much news! THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS TOUR THE MIDWEST!

John F. here. First off, we are going back on the road in the Midwest this May and June. THE BIG SHOW is landing in select cities, usually for two nights, for an “Evening with” which means it starts early with no opener. 2 very different shows from night to night. 8-piece band including 3 horns. 2 sets. Gets loud. Some shows are in big clubs, some seated.

This is the blurb the promoters are using: "They Might Be Giants are in top form and back on the road with their ever-evolving show. Featuring songs from the earliest days of their Dial-A-Song service, through their platinum album Flood, all the way to their Grammy-nominated album BOOK; each night is its own distinct celebration of the band's singular songbook. Backed by their notorious live band now including a three-piece horn section, expect a spontaneous, sprawling, enthralling musical event unlike any other."

TWO-NIGHT TICKET BUNDLES: A limited number of multi-night ticket packages are available –– that means reduced ticketing fees.

HOTEL ACCOMMODATIONS?: This time around, in some places, our local promoters are supplying our audiences preferred rates for nearby hotels for TMBG fans. In the past these have proven to be very good values, so check it out. Any applicable hotel deals will be listed on the show's event page.

5/9 PITTSBURGH at MR. SMALL’S THEATRE 5/10 PITTSBURGH at MR. SMALL’S THEATRE 5/11 PITTSBURGH at MR. SMALL’S THEATRE 5/14 CINCINNATI at MADISON THEATER 5/15 CINCINNATI at MADISON THEATER 5/17 DETROIT at THE MAJESTIC 5/18 DETROIT at THE MAJESTIC

6/14 MINNEAPOLIS at FIRST AVENUE 6/15 MINNEAPOLIS at FIRST AVENUE 6/16 ST PAUL at THE FITZGERALD THEATER 6/18 CHICAGO at THE VIC THEATRE 6/19 CHICAGO at THE VIC THEATRE 6/21 MILWAUKEE at THE PABST THEATRE 6/22 MILWAUKEE at THE PABST THEATRE 6/23 MADISON at THE BARRYMORE THEATRE

MORE SHOWS!

It is comical how many of the shows that have yet to sell out have just 50 or 100 tickets left, as some folks had to return tickets due to rescheduling. We know it’s far away, but now is not the worst time to make a move.

ON SALE NOW! AUSTRALIA www.theymightbegiants.com/shows for direct links to regular tickets SOLD OUT 2 Oct Adelaide 4 Oct Sydney 5 Oct Sydney 7 Oct Brisbane 8 Oct Brisbane 10 Oct Melbourne 11 Oct Melbourne 13 Oct Perth

ON SALE NOW! THE BRITISH ISLES www.theymightbegiants.com/shows for direct links to regular tickets

1 Nov Southampton SOLD OUT 2 Nov Cambridge 3 Nov London SOLD OUT 5 Nov Glasgow 6 Nov Newcastle 8 Nov Belfast SOLD OUT 9 Nov Dublin SOLD OUT 12 Nov Manchester SOLD OUT 13 Nov Leeds 15 Nov Nottingham SOLD OUT 16 Nov Bristol SOLD OUT 17 Nov London

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louisupdates · 5 months

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It is confirmed that Louis Tomlinson will play at the Sziget Festival in Budapest, 7->12 Aug 2024.

LINK TO LOUIS’ PAGE

Louis Tomlinson is a singer and songwriter from Doncaster, UK. As a member of One Direction, Louis was part of one of the biggest musical groups of all time. Now solo, Louis is following his heart musically.

Following the international success of his 2020 debut album, Walls, 2022 saw Louis release his second album, Faith In The Future. The acclaimed album went to No.1 in the UK, Spain and Belgium and Top 5 in the USA, Australia, New Zealand and across Europe, with combined sales of 2million+ across both albums. Following the release of Faith In The Future, Louis embarked on a huge 100 date global tour spanning most of 2023, visiting North America, Europe, United Kingdom & Ireland with Asia, Australia and South America to come in 2024. Louis has also announced a run of festivals appearances through summer 2024.

During 2023 Louis released his critically acclaimed feature length documentary, All Of Those Voices, which hit cinemas in over 60 countries, and featured global red carpet premieres in Tokyo, London, Mexico City and a live streamed event from Los Angeles. Autumn 2023 saw the Documentary launch on streaming exclusively on Paramount+ globally.

In 2021, Louis was listed in the Guinness Book Of World Records for breaking the record for the most livestreamed concert by a solo male artist, hosting one of the biggest live stream concert events ever held, selling over 160,000 tickets to fans in over 110 countries and raising funds for several important charities and touring crew affected by the pandemic.

Following the huge success of the festival’s 2021 debut, August also saw the return of Louis’ highly successful self-curated event, The Away From Home Festival. The one-day event was staged last year at the stunning Marenostrum Fuengirola in Malaga, Spain, hosting 18,000 fans and selling out in just 24 hours with a line-up of some of the best new British bands. This year saw Louis take the festival to the coast of Italy, hosting it in Lido Di Camaiore, with Blossoms, The Cribs and HotWax headlining the bill in the lead up to his own performance to close out the festival.

#louis tomlinson #sziget festival #12.12.2023 #festival louis

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notsoattractivearenti · 1 year

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Wherever You Are | Part 2 (Mason Mount x Reader)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: curse words, mentions of alcohol, angst

A/N: I didn't even intend to make this a 2-part series but since some of you asked for part 2, here you go! Special thanks to @ariddletobesolved for proofreading this fic ❤️ Also since Y/N is from London, I wanted to make the experience more authentic (I did some research) so I used British English here – but if I misspelled any words don't hesitate to correct me! If you enjoy it I'd love to hear from y'all through reblog/reply/ask 😄🫶 Feedbacks would be appreciated! Before reading this make sure you've read part 1 🤍

---

It’s been 8 months since you moved to New York. 8 whole months since the last time you saw Mason. Your heart ached from loving and missing him a lot, and you tried so hard to bury your pain deep through work. You did regret breaking up with him but you knew it was for the best, or at least you think it was...

It was December, meaning Christmas was near and at that time you hadn’t decided whether you should stay in NYC or go back home to London. You still weren't sure if you were going to get days off during Christmas and New Year.

You just got back to your apartment when you got a call from your mum. You grabbed your Airpods from your purse, put them on and picked up the phone.

“Hi Mum! You’re still up? I thought you were already asleep.”

“Hi sweetie! I miss you, so I want to call you before going to bed. How was work?”

“Eh, the usual. But a little bit busier because it’s holiday season but nothing new really. How are you?”

“I’m good, now better ‘cause I’m talking to you. Speaking of holidays, will you come home this Christmas? I know you just moved months ago and maybe you want to spend your first Christmas in New York, but we would love to have you here with us!”

“Oh Mum, you know I want to... But I can’t give you the exact answer right now since I still don’t know if I have to work on Christmas day. I will let you know once it’s clear, okay?”

“Alright! Hope you will come home sweetie. We all miss you here. But we’re so proud of you!”

“Thank you Mum, you’re the best! Now please go to bed, it’s midnight there isn’t it? We’ll talk again later!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. Good night, love you Y/N!”

“Sleep well Mum, I love you!”

You hung up the phone, and out of nowhere you found yourself staring at Mason’s contact on your phone. You were about to click on his contact to call him, but backed out because you knew it was midnight in London and you didn’t want to bother him, even though you weren’t sure if he was already asleep or still out somewhere.

The next day, everyone at the office including you received a memo that said during Christmas and New Year, employees from certain divisions got 2-week off starting next week, including the division you currently work under. You felt happy and relieved once you read the memo, knowing that you got to go back to London for a while to finally spend time with your family and friends. Not only that, you were thinking about how you might have the chance to see Mason, even as friends... You were so excited, you booked a return ticket to London right away. Later that day, you called your mum and told her about your plan, and she was thrilled to have her daughter for Christmas. You also told your best friend about it, and they already begged you to have a night out with them the day you arrived, but you told them you’d go out the day after instead because you were aware you might have jet lag due to the time difference.

---

A week passed, and the day you’d been waiting for finally came. You just couldn’t wait to see everyone back home. Barely a year had passed, yet you had missed London so much. You were really excited to be back home even just for two weeks. Before you moved away, you were living with Mason for 2 years, now that you two had broken up, you stayed at your parents’ house.

Arriving at Heathrow, you waited for your dad to pick you up. As minutes passed, your mind drifted back to the last time you were there. Back then, you had Mason dropping you off and it was one of the worst days of your life because of the break-up. You wanted to pretend you were okay, but you couldn’t. Your eyes started tearing up and your excitement began to subside as sadness and regret filled you instead. Tears were streaming down your face, and you immediately grabbed a tissue from your pocket to wipe those tears away. You didn’t want your dad to see you like this, so you opened your phone and looked for funny videos to lighten up your mood.

It didn’t take long until you saw your dad’s car pull over, before he got out to help you with your luggage. As you waved at him, you tried to force a smile, not wanting him to see you sad.

“Hello my beautiful hardworking New Yorker! I’ve missed you so much, sweetie,” he said as he gave you a hug.

“Hi Dad, I’ve missed you a lot too. So happy to finally see you in person,” you replied.

He could hear the quaver in your voice and he instantly knew you were upset, assuming it was because of Mason. “Y/N, are you okay? You’ve been thinking of Mason, haven’t you?”

“Is it that obvious? Shit, sorry Dad. I just couldn’t get him out of my head. The last time I was here, I broke up with him.” You paused to calm yourself down. “But you know what? We don’t have to talk about that... I’ll be okay, Dad.”

He looked at you with a gentle smile, rubbing your back and nodding. “Okay, but if you do want to talk about it don’t hesitate. Your mum and I are here for you.”

You smiled at him, “I know. Thanks, Dad.” Right after, your dad took your luggage and put it in the boot while you got in the car, sitting at the passenger’s seat.

Once you arrived at your parents’ house, you quickly got out of the car when you saw your mum already waiting for you. She was standing at the front door, waving at you as she came over to give you a hug.

“Y/N! I’m so happy you’re here! How was your flight?”

“It was exhausting but worth it, Mum. I’m happy to see you!”

“Let’s go inside, I’ve made you some pasta in case you’re hungry,” she said to you as she pulled you hand and took you inside the house.

After a late lunch with your parents, you went to your room to unpack and rest. You were really tired, so once you got everything unpacked, you finally laid down on your bed. Since you are the only child and there was only one spare room in your parents’ house, it was really quiet, completely the opposite of your everyday situation in NYC—that city truly never sleeps.

You took your phone out of your pocket, unlocked it and went straight to contact. You wanted to text Mason to let him know you were in London, but you chickened out. “What if he doesn’t give a damn?” you thought to yourself. So instead of sending him a text, you texted your friend instead to give them – as they liked to call it – a life update. Feeling tired, you fell asleep for hours.

---

The next day, you spent most of the day with your parents. They asked you so many questions about your job and your life in NYC, and most of those questions were pretty overwhelming to you but you answered them anyway.

“So, does Mason know you’re here?” asked your mum.

Your heart stopped. You just froze the moment you heard your mum mentioned his name. You had no idea how to react – it was a simple question but to you it was a lot more complicated.

“Y/N are you okay? Did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry!” Your mum was startled when saw your reaction.

“Uh...” You got tongue-tied. Fuck, why can’t I say anything?

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t have to say anything.” Your dad was trying to comfort you because he knew how hurtful it was to you when his name came up.

You were quivering, still very much broken-hearted by your own decision. “It’s, uh... okay. I just, um... I, uh, haven’t... Haven’t talked to Mase since, uh... Since we broke up.”

“Oh, baby I’m so sorry,” as your mum hugged you, “we’re not going to ask about him again. Y/N, we love you. We know it’s hard, but you should know we are here for you.”

You were trying so hard to hold your tears. “Thanks Mum, Dad. I’ll be okay.”

---

Later that night, you had your friend picking you up for the planned night out. After going through an emotional day, you knew you needed to go somewhere to refresh and ease the emotional pain. They took you to your favourite restaurant for dinner, before you both went to your usual pub.

“Oh man, you don’t know how much I needed a fucking drink! Y/F/N you’re a fucking godsend!” You sounded a little tipsy since you had two glasses of wine at dinner, then one – almost two – pints of beer at the pub, but you couldn’t care less.

“Okay, whoa, slow down Y/N. I know you’re hurting but please don’t drink too much,” as Y/F/N pulled your glass, “you know you will puke a lot and I don’t want to see that.”

“You know, Mason used to say that too. But every time I puked he always took care of me no matter how drunk he was too. God, I wonder how he’s doing right fucking now.”

“Uh, Y/N?” Y/F/N paused for a second, “Mason’s here.”

You were stunned, you couldn’t believe what you heard. Damn it, he can’t see me like this!

“Okay Y/N, stop drinking and calm down. I think he won’t see us.” Suddenly, you see Y/F/N’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, I think he just saw me. Fuck, sorry Y/N. He’s definitely coming over here.”

“Y/F/N! Hi!” You heard Mason loud and clear as he walked towards your table. You didn’t know what to do so you just sat there, hoping you wouldn’t do anything weird.

“Hi Mason... Uh, this is awkward,” said Y/F/N as they looked at you.

“Y/N? You’re... here?” Mason’s tone changed the moment he realised you were there. “When did you uh, when did you... When?”

“Um... Yesterday.” You tried to be calm and not sounding tipsy. “Hi, Mase.” You looked at him and all you could think about was how handsome he looked.

“Oh wow, I uh, I didn’t know. Sorry I’m just... I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he said nervously.

You couldn’t stare at him for too long, so you looked down most of the time. You wanted to tell him how you feel but you didn’t know what could’ve happened if you did it – you were afraid you were going to hurt both of you again. So instead of saying anything, you just smiled at him.

“Masey? Baby where do you want to sit? I got our beers,” you heard a girl calling Mason. Baby? Why would she call him that? Is he... Seeing someone?

“Coming, sweetheart,” he replied to the girl, “Y/F/N, Y/N, it was nice seeing you both. I got to get back to my girlfriend...” he paused, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I hope we can still be friends...”

You could feel your heart breaking way worse than before. At that moment you just knew, you had lost your chance to be with the love of your life. You’d lost him forever. You could have had him, but you blew it. Tears began to fill your eyes, but you didn’t want to break down in front of him. So you tried to act like you were okay, that you had accepted the fact that he is with someone new, even though you were nowhere near okay.

“No need to be sorry, Mase. Of course we can stay friends. I’m happy for you. You deserve happiness. I hope she makes you feel loved,” you said as you smiled at him, trying to cover your pain.

Mason nodded and smiled back at you. He tapped your shoulder before he left, “See you around, Y/N.”

You watched as he walked away, feeling numb, thinking about how lucky his girl is to have someone like Mason in her life. You knew that because you had him for 4 years. It was the best 4 years of your life and you would do anything to get it back, but you knew you couldn’t. You meant it when you said he deserves happiness, with or without you. You made a mistake, and you had to deal with the consequences. Even though it hurt deeply, at least you had found closure. You didn’t have to wonder about you and him anymore, and it was clear that you had to move on.

“Y/N... I’m so sorry. I love you, and you know you have a shoulder to lean on,” said Y/F/N as they held your hands, giving them a little squeeze of reassurance that you needed.

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine Y/F/N. I’ve said it a million times, but this time I mean it.” Your heart ached with sadness, but still you tried to be strong. “It’s time for me to move on, no matter how long it will take.”

---

taglist:

@pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount angst #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic

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capseycartwright · 4 months

Text

to be irish is to leave -

i know this, i’ve always known this. i was raised on stories of emigration and of new dreams: american, english, australian, dreams of a house of your own, cities bigger than anyone could imagine, a career you’d never get to have at home. the songs sung at the end of the night in cosy pubs were always lamenting - songs grieving those who left and never returned, songs that told stories of what it means to be irish: to leave, to build a new life elsewhere, and to still be irish at your very core. because we leave, we do, but we never shake off our irishness, finding community in corners of the world filled with other irish people, thousands of miles from home but finding solace amidst your loneliness with the neighbour who grew up ten miles down the road.

it’s no country for women - that’s what they used to say, why they left. it’s no country for young people, now. we say it, over and over - with your family, as they welcome you home for christmas. with your friends, over christmas pints, the conversation always turning to emigration - she’s left too, you know, to sydney, and there’s a gang of them in london, and he’s gone to canada. our hometown is quiet now, a generation emigrating all over again. they say that leaving is in our blood but it’s not there out of a joy travel and a desire to see the world - not just that, at least. no, no, leaving is in our blood because this country we love so deeply doesn’t love us back.

this country raised me - the green fields and rolling hills and waves crashing against the shore are all embedded deep in my DNA, the very core of who i am. this country raised me, it shaped me, it’s one of the biggest parts of who i am - irish, i say, when i’m asked when i’m from, even though i haven’t lived here since i was 22, even though i have built a life in another country and i don’t know if i see myself coming back. we all feel it - raised to so fiercely love a country that doesn’t love us back. “i’ll never afford a house here.” “i didn’t think i’d be living with my parents this close to 30.” “it costs too much to build a life here.” “if i want my dream job - i have to go.”

i have to go, i have to go, i have to go - i knew this from the moment i settled on a dream: a career i could never pursue in ireland the motivation behind the one way ticket i booked all those years ago. i love this country - we all do. i fought for the betterment of this country, i marched and i led campaigns and i voted over and over for a better future for the country i love so dearly: and still, i ended up standing in the airport, suitcases in hand, and i got on a plane and left. because to be irish is to leave - and so i left. i left, and built a life elsewhere, gave that love and passion to another place, and the ache for ireland lessens, day by day, but i still ache for home, ache to be able build a life in the land i love so much.

ireland will always welcome you home, is the thing - with wide open arms, and a bright smile. this year marked the seventh christmas i arrived home to a choir, to news cameras, to a rapturous reception of carols and clapping, strangers happy to see ireland’s children return home. ireland will always welcome us home - but she waves us off just as enthusiastically. january comes and the airport is full again - tearful goodbyes, suitcases of presents and all the home comforts you never learned to live without, and the plane always leaves: taking you back to the place you’ve built your new life, ireland in the rearview mirror.

you learn to live with the homesickness, rugby matches in irish bars and monthly drinks with familiar accents a salve for the part of your heart that will always ache for home: because to be irish is to leave, yes, but to be irish is to leave and to always long to come home to ireland’s shores. and to be irish is to know you might never come home at all.

#in which i ramble #me and my complicated feelings about emigration are back #my writing tag #complicated feelings i say as if anger isn’t the clear emotion in this

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cdaae · 7 months

Text

Why Am I Like This- Phantom Collector Edition

I’m a completionist and an obsessive so I need all the different versions of a thing so here’s a list of where I’m at right now. I wish I could say that I was anywhere near done but there’s always more phantom stuff to collect

Books

Gaston Leroux x51(This includes all 6 English translations, 8 different languages, and three levels of French)

Gaston Leroux signed by Broadway Cast

The Underground’s of the Phantom of the Opera

The Phantom of the Bathtub

Night of the Phantom

Embrace the Night

Lessons from the Phantom of the Opera

Song of a Maiden

Madrigal

Phantom

Unmasqued

Phantom of Manhattan

Ruinsong

Roseblood

Beyond the Masque

Chanson de L’Ange

Sing Me Forgotten

The Angel of the Opera

The Phoenix of the Opera

The Phantom’s Opera

The Phantom of Paris

The Phantom’s Apprentice

Where Dreams Descend

The Phantom Cat of the Opera

Phantom Pop Up Book

George Perry’s Complete Phantom of the Opera

Phantoms of the Opera

The Trap Door Maker

Phantom Graphic Novel x2

The Phantom Cooks

2004 Companion

Geronimo Stilton

Thea Stilton

My Phantom

Phantoms in the Night

Phantom of Pemberly

Phantom of the Auditorium

Behind the Phantom’s Mask

The Phantom Returns

Phantom erotica

Book cassette

Souvenir edition OLC

Emoji of the opera

Phantom 2020

Phantom Phantasia

Songbird

The Phantom’s Lullaby

Phantom of the Little Russian Theatre

Masked Love

Treasures of Egypt

Victory

Venetian Romance

Susannah’s Secret

The Man in the Shadows

Love in the Spotlight

Let the Dream Begin

A Phantom’s Promise

Destiny’s Curse

Phantom by David Bischoff

Mini Leroux

L’Opera de Paris

Paris National Opera

Palais Garnier

Peeping Duck Gang

Out of the Darness

L’Opera De Paris Coulisses etc secrets du Garnier

Claude Rains Book

Movies/CDs/Media

Lon Chaney

Claude Rains x2

Herbert Lom x2

Phantom of Hollywood

Schell

Robert Englund

Charles Dance

David Staller

Julian Sands

2004 x17 (English x2, French x3 Germanx2, Greek, Spanish, Italian, limited(English and German), deluxe, and Ultimate, Special, Collectors(English and French)

Angel of Music

25th Anniversary

Love Never Dies

A Monster in Paris

Phantom of the Grindhouse

Anthony Mann

Phantom of the Theatre

Unmasking the Masterpiece

Love on Safari

Faust

1987 Cartoon(dvd & VHS)

Mystery Legends Phantom Game x2

2004 digital press kit(English and French)

OLC (cassette & CD)

CDs x59

Phantom of the Paradise Record

OLC small record(wywsha&motn)

Long box cd

Long box 2004

2004 VHS

Movie/book set

Long box OLC cassettes

Karaoke cassettes

Highlight cassettes

Robert Englund VHS

For Your Consideration 2004

Book casettes

Stage Fright

Props/Signed/Similar

Love Never Dies audience gift notebook

1992 tour Auction book prop

Jerry Mitchell signed LND after party invite

Phantoms Note from BWay x2

Don Juan Music from BWay x1 1/2

Ticket to 25th Anniversary Party

Majestic Theatre Phantom Barricade Cover

Photo cards, signed x16

Signed LOBs x2

Robert Englund autograph

Laird Mackintosh autograph

BWay 29th anniversary cast gift beanie

KAV’s dressing gown shoes

Manager’s BWay newspaper prop x4

Cast board name placards x3(2 BWay one Vegas)

Reopening cookies x2

London 35th anniversary rose petals and card

Il Muto page boy stockings

OBC cast member costume gloves

Printed cast member email

Cast made calendars 2006 and 2007

Full cast signed poster with Hugh

Signed trading card

Signed Michael Crawford Face mask

Signed Crawford Article

Signed 35 Poster

Signed Mask

Scrap of Christine’s wedding dress

Scrap of phantoms suit

10th anniversary invite

Opera glasses cast gift

Magazines

24/7 Magazine featuring Crivello

NYC City Guide 2014 & 2016

TODAY featuring Vegas

What’s On Vegas

Time Out New York

German LND

Theater Week 1988

In Theater 1998

Casino Player Magazine

Fate Magazine

Broadway Spotlight

Other

Megstine notebook

Mugs x7

Cups x5

Water Bottle

Ornaments x5

Phantom harmonica

Red death figure

Lon Chaney figure

Phantom Nutcracker

Phantom and Christine Barbies

Tote bag x4

Phantom creamer tops, complete set

Postcards x6

LOBs x2

Magnet x5

Stickers x12

Phantom Cat sticker set

Chibi phantom sticker set

Angel patch

Greeting cards x2

Posters x5

Art print

Calendar

Ramin based doll

Phantom doll + Ayesha

Snerik

Pen

Mardi Gras coin

Felt Raoul and Erik

Francœur bean

Small hand painted canvas

25th Anniversary limited edition boxed set

Canada gift bag

Mexico phone card

Japanese train card x2

Trading card

Lon Chaney money

Lon Chaney stamp

Pencil

Phone case

Gift bag

Japanese posters x6

Herbert Lom ad stamp

Complete LND London draft script

Blanket

Operetta

34th Anniversary blank playbill sticker sheets

Goosebumps pen

Goosebumps magnet

Goosebumps stickers x9

Bendyfigs phantom

German postcard

Angel of Music coffee

Where Dreams Descend popcorn holder

Raoul and Christine art print

Large paper bag

1994 calendar

Ireland phone card

Movie screening invite

German something?

Frame

Vegas key card

Angel of music bear

Tea towels x2

Mask sticker

Blockbuster card

Phantom press invite

Mini 2004 scrapbook

Playing cards

Assorted Japanese 2004 film memorabilia(10 pieces)

2004 film poster and booklet

1999 ticket info

2023 newspaper clippings

Gingerbread ornament

Aussie keychain

Phantom/Christine blanket

2011 wall calendar

2012 wall calendar

2013 wall calendar

Angel ornament

Universal Erik doll

Sarah/Steve Ad

1993 calendar

2004 Mylar

1995 calendar

Italy confetti

Crawford ornament

Halloween figure

Matchbox

Soap?

Heart frame

Jewelry

Pins x11

Charm bracelet

Necklace x2

Key chains x14

Replica Ring

Hair bow x2

Think of Me hair clips

Jewelry pouch

Music Boxes

Square black jewelry music box

Il Muto

Limited Edition boat scene

Boat Scene

Phantom and Christine wedding

Porcelain signs x2

Limited edition mirror scene

Mirror scene

Mirror

Limited edition MotN

Red Death

Throne water globe

Music water globe

Phantom w/ stick water globe

Rooftop water globe

Russian egg(?)

Mirror scene water globe

Phantom w/ stick

Phantom in throne

Monkey music box

Limited edition Jack in the box

Boat scene water globe(broken globe)

Russian egg (?? Missing top)

Small music box(no music)

Universal Phantom and Christine

Phantom and Christine with Marni

Opera House

Phantom Automata

Madame Alexander Christine Doll

Broken Mirror

Erik and Christine porcelain figure

Music pedestal

Clothing

Socks

Glow in the dark boxers

Night shirt

Phantom BWay x2

Sydney Harbour shirt

Christine dressing gown VTC

Peacock dress

US tour grey shirt

Christmas Sweatshirt

Toronto shirt

Candy of the Opera

1988 mask shirt

Phantom of the Opry shirt

New York shirt

Mask sweatshirt

Ghost Red Death Shirt

35th anniversary shirt

Italy shirt

Programs/Playbills/ETC

Loose understudy slips x14

Ticket stubs x11

Newspaper clippings

Mini flyers x6

Flyers x40

Ken Hill souvenir program

2004 film souvenir program

ALW souvenir programs x49

BWAY playbills x63

Signed playbills x12

Tour playbills x20

London programs x18

YK phantom playbill

World tour playbill

Melbourne playbill

Robert Englund film souvenir program

Italy program

Sweden program

Music Books

ALW piano x3(easy, intermediate, expert)

2004 film

YK phantom

LND London

I can honestly say this may not even be everything because sometimes I forget to add new acquisitions to the list. If there’s anything on the list you wanna see pics of, I’m happy to share!

#phantom of the opera #personal #phantom #the phantom of the opera

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ceceliaahathaway · 2 months

Text

Event: Her Year Absence Dated: 15th of March, 2024 Location: London, Spain, and a confessional. Characters: Cecelia Hathaway, Adam Carrigan, Eleanor Carrigan, Chelsea Carrigan, Alison Carrigan, and their dog Happy.

11th of December, 2022.

Her teeth sank forcefully into the flesh covering his shoulder blade. With a cry, she clung to the only certainty she had in that moment: he wouldn't let her fall. She convinced herself that her longing for a man had been dormant for too long and it was because of this fact, that she'd had broken her marriage vows in the middle of a changing room in the heart of Harrods. It had nothing to do with dark, expressive eyes, that gleamed at her with a level of intensity she'd never seen before. Or that his olive-toned skin could be both smooth and rough in all the necessary parts. OR that when his mouth met her own, her heart found its way so far into the back of her throat, she couldn't be sure if it was that or his tongue that kept her from forming a sentence in order to tell him, she couldn't do this. Shaking as she hit a wall she knew she'd never come back from; at least not today, Cece pushed her damp, warm and perspiring forehead against his own, "How about you take my number instead..."

12th of December, 2022.

She shrugged out of her cashmere sweater; even that felt tainted right now, as she waited for Father to address her on the other side of the confessional. "Oh, forgive me Father. For I have sinned. It has been 4 months since my last confession." She closed her eyes, once again returning to the Harrods changing room, as she let out a sigh (that had absolutely no place in a confessional booth), before shaking her head and forcing her trembling hands to still, "I have broken the sacred vow of marriage." The tears came hard and fast, as she found it difficult to even think of a penitence worthy of such a crime. But, this was God, as Father told her and there was no sin that he couldn't forgive if a sinner came to him with a truly remorseful heart. She closed her eyes and felt Ayaz' breath against her the nape of her neck and decided, not quite yet. "I'm sorry, Father." At least that part she knew was true. Time, is what she told herself she needed, prayers and time. Clasping her mother's rosary, she stood up and walked outside, her hand fiddling to find her phone and book a ticket to Spain before she'd even stepped back into the cool, crisp London air.

13th of December, 2022.

As the airplane descended towards Spain, the woman felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation knotting in her stomach. Through the small window, she caught glimpses of the rugged coastline and the azure waters below, a stark contrast to the life she was leaving behind. As the wheels touched the runway with a gentle jolt, a sense of liberation washed over her, mingled with the fear of the unknown. Would Adam take one look at her and smell Ayaz on her. She'd washed herself so many times since her skin still felt raw to the touch.

Stepping off the plane into the warm Spanish air, she inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of unfamiliar spices and the tang of the sea. The sunlight danced on her skin, casting a golden glow that seemed to promise a fresh start.

Navigating through the bustling airport, she marvelled at the vibrant energy of her surroundings. The chatter of unfamiliar languages; a reminder to finally learn the southern European language her husband spoke so well, combined with the colourful array of clothing, and the lively rhythm of Spanish music all served as a stark reminder that she was no longer bound by the confines of her old life. This would be her new start.

Did it worry her to leave her Vixens alone. Of course it did. But how was she expected to look after them when could barely look after herself or her own marriage?! They would be okay. She'd monitor things from here. She could manage that and Charlene had been warned.

After collecting her luggage and arriving at the car rental booth, Cece proceeded with a sense of calm familiarity. She had done this countless times before, and today was no different. Approaching the counter with a composed demeanour, she efficiently handled the necessary paperwork with the attendant, her movements precise and confident. "Yes, your latest model..."

Starting the engine with practiced ease, she merged onto the road with a steady hand, the hum of the car's powerful engine a familiar companion. As she navigated the unfamiliar route to her husband's Spanish villa, her mind remained focused, her thoughts occupied with the tasks ahead as she let SIRI guide her through unknown territory.

Driving through the Spanish countryside, she admired the scenic views with a detached appreciation, the beauty of the landscape a mere backdrop to her purposeful journey. Arriving at the gates of the mansion, she keyed in a familiar passcode with a sense of quiet resolve, her expression betraying none of the emotions that churned beneath the surface. Would he be home? Would he sense her fear? Would he tell her to leave?

She pulled up outside of the house. Shaking to the bone, as she climbed out, taking her small (runaway) luggage with her as she walked up to the large antique door and knocked hard. She'd try that first, before she was forced to croak nervously into the intercom speaker.

Fortunately for her, Adam had been crossing the hall and had stilled at the unexpected sound of a guest. Perhaps a friend; or worse, a boyfriend of one of his girls had decided to pay them a visit. Undoing his buttons and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows (an attempt to show a surprisingly amount of muscle that still remained for a man his age), Adam walked over and pulled open the door to see his wife standing there with a suitcase in tow. So, long had he dreamed up this image, he couldn't be sure he hadn''t simply nodded off on top of his desk again, "Cece, darling?" He watched as the blonde in front of him, let out a whimper as she fell against his chest and let out a while string of apologies. "My dear, what has got you so shaken.. come, come..."

He was too good for her. That's what Cece told herself. She did not deserve him, as he carried her upstairs to his bedroom and laid her down on top of the mattress, staying and wiping the hair from out of her eyes. What had she done?! She loved this man. Her whole heart was his. Why had she thrown all of this away just for one good fuck. God, it had been good though. No, NO, NO! She reached up, pulling her husband towards her, as she pushed her mouth to his and started pulling loose his shirt from inside his jeans. She needed this. She needed him. If he'd been there in London, even the Turkish's dark obsidian hues wouldn't have bewitched her. She blocked him out. Her focus now and forever on Adam, as she pulled him inside her and let out a cry of relief.

11th of March, 2024.

As she stood by the poolside, the woman exuded a quiet confidence that spoke volumes of the transformation she had undergone. Her once-short hair now cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders. It had been decades since she'd allowed it to cross over the top of her shoulders. The lines on her face seemed softened, reflecting the peace she had found within herself.

Her marriage, she once thought strained, had blossomed into something stronger and more resilient. There was a warmth in her eyes as she watched her husband across the pool, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had traveled together to reach this point. Had she told him about Ayaz? No, but she'd justly made up for it. Not once had the Turkish man cross her mind and bed since.

Surrounded by the laughter and chatter of her daughters and their boyfriends, she found joy in witnessing their happiness. As she sipped her drink and mingled with the guests, there was a lightness to her step and a genuine smile playing on her lips. She had weathered the storms of the past and emerged stronger on the other side, embracing each moment with gratitude and grace.

She was ready now. Ready to go back to London. This time with Adam in tow. His business had wrapped up here. Both him, her daughters, and their new partners, and their new dog Happy, would be coming along for the ride. Now, she just needed the company of her Vixens again and her life really would be complete.

17th of March, 2024

She'd arrived early for mass, telling Adam she wanted a moment to catch up with Father Doherty and confession. Settling down inside the confessional, Cece grasped her mother's rosary once again, but this time far less tightly. Today was for just a few venial sins, cursing at someone who'd cut her off earlier, wishing a plague on everyone who thought it was okay to drink red wine with fish and out of a box nonetheless, and the brief thought of wanting to send Happy to a far away farm after he'd chewed up on of her favourite pashminas, she had nothing else weighing her down. "Oh, Lord I am sorry for having sinned against you.." She accepted Father's blessing, before she stepped back outside and hugged, Father who too had emerged. This was far from custom, but Father Doherty and her weren't just Father and patron. "I have missed you dearly, Father." She accepted his arms and fell into his fatherly embrace, before she pulled herself back and wiped a few tears from her face. After accepting his offer to have a more private talk after mass, Cece walked over to Adam who'd she'd just seen walk inside, along with their daughters and their partners, "darling! Darling I've got us our usual pew back."

Weight rested into Adam's warm chest, Cece let out a breath she'd been holding since returning to London. There had been no reason to worry. Everything was going to be just as it once were.

Little did Cece know, someone was in the process of composing an email containing several dozen photos of her and Ayaz just before they'd found themselves in that Harrods changing room together. As the Gregorian choir began to chant, the sender prepared themselves to hit the send button, directing the email towards Cece's and Ayaz' personal inbox. A simple message attached: send money or lose everyone.

#communicating via story #with herself

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gwenmontrose · 1 year

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Of Crossbows and Lawyers

@jilymicrofics February Prompt List | No. 8: Uncertainty

Words: 1.6k

First time writing in English, so I really hope it's decent! Inspired by one of my favourite scenes of one of my favourite tv series, Fleabag 💕

Lily Evans never had problems with the law during the first twenty-eight years of her life.

On the contrary, everyone who knew her would describe her as the model citizen. No speed tickets, no minor thefts, not even a single fine for a book returned late to the local library.

Nothing.

Even her appearance was one of a sensible, intelligent young woman, polite and well-mannered, with that kind of innate beauty that made people in the streets turn around to look at her.

She was, in her words, completely and utterly ordinary.

So, it was with a little bit of a shock that she found herself – at the ripe age of twenty-eight and two days – walking down the corridor of a posh London law firm, in her best suit, desperately trying to keep up with the marching pace of her sister, and just a few moments away from meeting her brand-new solicitor for the first time.

It was even more shocking that Petunia, of all people, was the one helping her out of the legal mess she found herself in, but life had taken a very unexpected turn just a few days before, so Lily had wisely decided to accept any given hand and not to question her neurotic older sister.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Petunia had decided to help her out of pure goodness of heart, or in the name of sisterly affection. When she had found out that Lily had been arrested during a peaceful march for women’s rights, which had unfortunately turned into an out-of-control riot, she had been positively horrified.

«Just think of what this could mean for Vernon’s imminent promotion!» she had hissed on the phone when Lily had called her, as if her precious’ husband’s boss could care less about his sister-in-law’s misdeeds. «We have to clean up your reputation quickly, before anyone else comes to know about this. You need the best defence attorney we can get»

She hadn’t even wanted to listen to Lily’s explanation.

«I don’t care if you were wrongly mistaken for the person who actually broke that window with a homemade crossbow» she had said, almost growling. «I just want to fucking erase your criminal record and be done with this nonsense»

Petunia had probably cursed only three other times in her entire life. Lily had been so stunned that she forgot how to speak for a good twenty minutes.

Therefore, Lily found herself in a truly surreal situation, but maybe this time her sister’s love for order and propriety was going to be her salvation, instead of a constant pain in the ass.

As they were approaching the attorney’s office, Petunia started to rattle off a long and interminable list of dos and don’ts and basic rules of what she defined as “civil interaction”, adding here and there sparse information about the man who was going to represent her.

«He’s on top of his game» she said, stiffly, marching with unexpected sureness down the corridor. «Maybe a bit too young, but he managed to pull Dave Thomas out of a very, very tight corner last year»

«Wasn’t Dave Thomas the one who broke into his ex-wife’s house to steal her –»

«Yes, Lily, and we don’t talk about this in public, please. He was Vernon’s groomsman at our wedding» Petunia levelled her with an icy stare and then went on. «Now, I hear this lawyer has the best success rate of his firm and he agreed to take your case because he’s apparently a feminist» Her mouth twisted in a strange grimace as she said the word. «Or something like that»

«It appears he still has a little bit of integrity left after defending Dave Thomas» muttered Lily. «Good for him»

«I’ve already filled him with the basics» Petunia ploughed on, ignoring her comment. «Just be serious, will you?»

«I’ll do my best»

«And do whatever he says»

«What if he asks me to –»

«And don’t flirt with him»

Lily was so taken aback that she almost burst out laughing. She rearranged her face in the most disbelieving expression she could manage, as if she were extremely offended by Petunia’s admonition, and scoffed: «I’m not going to f –»

Then the door of the office in front of them opened abruptly and the most gorgeous man Lily had ever seen appeared behind it.

«– fucking hell, okay» she concluded in a whisper.

He was tall, dark, handsome in a very effortless way, with warm hazel eyes behind stylish glasses and a stupid, infectious grin dancing on perfect full lips. He was wearing what was with all probability a tailored black suit, for it seemed almost stitched on his lean and athletic body, and he carried himself with that type of self-confidence that could only belong to a person who didn’t know the feeling of uncertainty.

Lily had always thought lawyers were kind of sexy, but she had never seen such a fine specimen and for a moment she almost felt grateful for the absurd situation that had led her to meet him.

Then she remembered she was going to be taken to trial for vandalism and private property damage and her enthusiasm dimmed a little bit.

«Right on time!» he said, almost jovially, as if he hadn’t just flipped Lily’s world upside down. «Miss and Mrs Dursley, I assume?»

«Miss Evans» Petunia hastily corrected him. «She’s my sister. I’ve taken my husband’s last name»

The exquisite man in front of them smiled kindly – Lily noted that a dimple appeared on his left cheek when he did that – and then hold out his hand to her.

She shook it weakly.

«I’m James Potter» he said.

Even his name was attractive, for fuck’s sake.

«And I suppose you are the dangerous criminal who smashed open a shop window during a very illegal and reprehensible revolt against the status quo» he continued. «How disappointing of you»

Lily blinked.

«I’m joking!» he exclaimed, after a beat. Then he smiled, almost in a mischievous way. «My mother was at the march, too, you know?»

«What?!» Lily and Petunia gasped, the former with incredulous surprise, the latter with clear distaste.

«Oh, yes» he confirmed to both, proudly, before turning again his attention back to Lily. «But I dare say she was a little bit more fortunate than you, since she managed to hail a taxi and come home before everything went south»

«Lucky her» mumbled Lily.

«I must say, though, I’m very curious about the whole homemade crossbow affair» he went on. His eyes, which were sparkling with mirth, searched her in a way that made her feel strangely seen. «I know you don’t just judge a book from its cover, but you don’t seem the type to assemble Medieval weapons in her basement as a hobby»

«Usually I prefer something more traditional as reading a book on a park bench, but sometimes I like to change, you know, to liven up my life» Lily immediately said, forgetting everything about her predicament and her sister’s rules and not flirting with one’s lawyer.

«I think it’s a wonderful way to do so» James agreed. «Even if it occasionally lands you in the local prison»

«It was just a police station»

«My bad, miss Evans» he said, before smiling again. «Apologies»

«So» Petunia interjected, stiffly, before Lily could open her mouth, interrupting their conversation with the timing of a huge pimple on the day of an important date. «I see you hit it off wonderfully»

If James heard the razor-sharp quality of her voice, he didn’t seem to be put off by it.

«I think we’ll get along fine» he commented.

She really needed to stop thinking about him in very different and spicier scenarios.

«Yeah» she said weakly, trying to ignore the “don’t fuck your lawyer” look that Petunia was furiously sending her. As if she could afford to risk her dignity and pristine criminal record just for the thrill to sleep with her attorney. Even if he was something akin to a model. «You can go, Petunia. I’ll manage on my own from here»

Petunia scrunched her nose in a very irritated way, but didn’t dare to argue with her in front of a relative stranger. So, after giving her a stern and reproachful look, she hitched her bag to her shoulder and said a polite and detached goodbye to James.

«I’ll see you later» she said to her and, with a last warning stare, she went off in the opposite direction, disappearing down the long corridor and finally leaving them alone.

For a moment, they both remained silent.

Then James chuckled, almost to himself, and took a step back into his office.

«Shall we get started?» he said, beckoning her to follow him inside. «I’d hate for you to go to prison, miss Evans»

«I really hope you’re good at what you do, because I have no plans to do so in the immediate future» she replied, honestly, and then, feeling strangely bold now that her sister wasn’t there, she added: «You can call me Lily, by the way»

«I don’t think it’s proper for me to be on a first-name basis with my clients» James argued, but his voice was teasing. He sat behind a large mahogany desk that probably was worth a small fortune and invited her to take a seat in front of him. «But maybe I can make an exception for you. Lily»

Lily laughed and shook her head.

When she woke up that morning, she didn’t think that at the end of the day she would find herself in much more trouble than she already was, but it seemed like it was totally going in that direction.

And she certainly wasn’t going to complain about it.

#jily #<2k #jily microfic #james potter #lily evans #muggle au

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pers-books · 7 months

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Ghosts at Shakespeare’s Globe casting announced including Hattie Morahan & Greg Hicks

Shakespeare’s Globe has revealed casting for its forthcoming revival of Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts.

The play will run at their Sam Wanamaker Playhouse from 10 November 2023 to 28 January 2024.

The cast will include Greg Hicks (Oklahoma!) as Engstrand, with Paul Hilton (The Glass Menagerie) as Father Manders, Hattie Morahan (A Doll’s House) as Helene Alving, Sarah Slimani (The Winter’s Tale) as Regine Engstrand, and Stuart Thompson (Spring Awakening) as Osvald Alving.

Ghosts is adapted and directed by Joe Hill-Gibbins (The Tragedy of King Richard the Second – Almeida), and this production marks the first time at Ibsen has been performed at Shakespeare’s Globe.

The creative team also includes Associate Director Lucy Wray, Costume and Set Designer Rosanna Vize, Costume Supervisor Megan Rarity, Globe Associate (Movement) Glynn Macdonald, Head of Voice Tess Dignan, and Intimacy Director Haruka Kuroda.

Director Joe Hill-Gibbins said in a statement: “It’s a privilege to be staging Ibsen at Shakespeare’s Globe for the very first time, and also to be opening the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse’s 10th Anniversary Season. I’m excited to light the candles and see what emerges from Ibsen’s exploration of forbidden desire, and of the social, biological and emotional forces that entrap us.”

Hattie Morahan returns to Ibsen after her Evening Standard Theatre Award and Critics Circle Award-winning performance as Nora in A Doll’s House at the Young Vic, in the West End and in New York.

Greg Hicks was recently starring in the smash-hit West End revival of Oklahoma! at the Young Vic and Wyndham’s Theatre.

Currently playing at Shakespeare’s Globe is Macbeth until 28 October, and As You Like It until 29 October, followed by Hansel And Gretel from 8 December 2023 to 7 January 2024.

Following Ghosts in the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse will be Othello fro 16 January to 13 April 2024, and The Duchess Of Malfi from 17 February to 14 April 2024.

Ghosts is playing from 10 November 2023 to 28 January 2024 at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse.

Book tickets to GHOSTS at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse in London

Tagging @riversofmars @meluisart and @ceridwen

#Shakespeare's Globe Theatre #Hattie Morahan #Greg Hicks #Play: Ghosts #Playwright: Ibsen

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hldailyupdate · 2 years

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Louis Tomlinson today announces the return of his highly successful festival 'Away From Home' this year.

Following the huge success of the festival's 2021 debut, the 2022 one day festival will be held at the stunning Marenostrum Fuengirola, Malaga, Spain hosting 17,000 fans on Saturday 27th August.

Conceived and curated by Louis himself, the Away From Home festival was first held in 2021 at the UK’s iconic Crystal Palace Bowl and witnessed an audience of over 6,000 people.

This year in Malaga the stellar line-up includes English Indie-rock band The Vaccines who over the past decade have established themselves as one of Britain's biggest and most loved bands.

Madrid based Indie band Hinds also take the stage fresh from supporting The Strokes, along with Sun Room who bring their infectious energy following their support slots on Louis' global tour. Exciting Northern British Alt-punk band Stone will be on the bill bringing their exciting sound to Spain for the first time. In addition, the line-up will feature special DJ sets from The Libertines' very own Carl Barât.

Louis will be performing a full special headline set to close out the day.

Born in 2016, Marenostrum is quickly establishing itself as one of the most spectacular outdoor venues in Europe, with its proximity to the sea and view of Sohail Castle, offering the perfect location for The Away From Home Festival España 2022.

Tickets go on sale 10am CEST Friday 10th June and can be found through The Away From Home Festival website.

Louis has spent the last two years writing and recording his second solo album after signing a new global deal with BMG.

In 2021 , Louis was listed in the Guinness Book Of World Records for breaking the record for the most livestreamed concert by a solo male artist. Louis hosted one of the biggest live stream concert events of 2020, selling over 160,000 tickets to fans in over 110 countries and raising funds for several important charities and touring crew affected by the pandemic.

Louis is currently travelling the globe with his massive sold out World Tour which has so far visited UK, Europe, USA and South America. The tour included a sell out night at London's Wembley Arena and a highly emotional homecoming concert at The Dome in Louis's home town of Doncaster. Next the tour visits Asia and Australia for nine more sell out shows.

In total the tour has sold a phenomenal 500,000 tickets globally.

-Simon Jones on Louis and The Away From Home Festival. (8 June 2022)

via simonjonesPR

#louis tomlinson #louis update #simon jones #article #the away from home festival 2022 #june 2022

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mynameis-noe-body · 8 months

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Professor Severus Snape × Original Female Character

Summary:

Licorice Hatch has traveled the world, fulfilling her dream of becoming one of the most famous writers and reporters in the Wizarding World. Now, she is coming back. Merlin only knows the turmoil she has caused in the heart of her dark, splendid professor. And at the very thought — eager to hold her in his arms again — Severus can't help but relive their whole story, from the very beginning, when it all started with a Wilbur Smith's book and... a two-month detention!

Or — OC was a Slytherin student, but through the years her relationship with professor Snape developed from a platonic friendship to true love. AU - no Second Wizarding War & start from the 4th Year.

Warnings: None (no underage relationship)

Rating: Mature

Status: Complete

Here the first chapter.

▪️▪️▪️

Five years.

One hundred and fifty letters exchanged.

About three hundred stamps, including those for priority and international mail. Ireland, Netherlands, France, Germany, Portugal, Italy, Spain and the Canary Islands, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Turkey, Armenia, Egypt, Cape Verde, the island of Cyprus, Morocco, and back north to Norway and the Svalbard Islands — yes, he had read them all.

And he had kept all the dozens — dozens, dozens — of photographs, tickets, newspaper clippings, pamphlets and so on and so forth; he had had to empty a trunk to put everything away.

Severus had never considered himself a sentimental man, yet he'd never allow any of his old friends to cross the threshold of his study only to discover the inkblots on the scribbled parchment, signed with his first name and, on top on the page, that usual «My dear Licorice». My dear — it had become ridiculous how he had found himself waiting for her letter, punctual every two weeks for five years, coming from all over Europe and beyond.

Severus knotted his tie glancing at the invitation, opened on the table in front of the fireplace. It was going to be a formal event, the Quibbler's twentieth birthday, the Lovegood's magazine; it had been unexpected, she hadn't warned him of the precedence of her return to England. A flush of heat tinted lightly his cheeks red, and he found himself berating — an old fool, that's who he was. Fortunately, Albus was no longer there to tease his idiosyncrasies.

Severus closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and grabbed the card with the typical annoyance that had accompanied him for a lifetime; the flames in the fireplace trembled and the Headmistress shrill voice called to him. "Are you ready? I'm going now with Filius but I very much hope you want to join us, Severus."

He nodded. "I'll be there, Minerva."

The flame vanished with a puff of ash. His hand hesitated over the jar of Floo Powder. Another mirror check, just to make sure the knot is neat. Severus had never considered himself a vain man — good Merlin, no, no. He had never found anything particularly interesting in his physical appearance of him. Nothing worth paying attention to more than the five minutes it took to brush his teeth twice a day and shave three times a week. Yet now that he was wearing a new midnight blue suit (and had combed his hair, had shaved even though it didn't seem necessary, and had tried — unsuccessfully — to choose a perfume) he felt decidedly uncomfortable. He cursed the girl, again. Severus squeezed the invitation in his pocket thinking he would give up, but the very idea of missing this opportunity made him miserable. You won a war, get some self-love good God. And with a final flash of resolution, Severus grabbed the Floo, stepped into the chimney, and traveled to the Quibbler's London headquarters.

—————

It was a warm evening on the rooftops of London. From that terrace lit in purple and gold one could admire the whole city; the artificial lights of the Muggle streets were magically extinguished under the transparent dome that hid them from prying eyes, and entire constellations unfolded in the sky like a mantle of precious stones set in velvet. Severus avoided the crowd. Minerva had dragged him here — to congratulate the Lovegood family, and to rejoin old friends from Hogwarts — and there — to shake hands with the members of the Ministry who had been invited; it had been forty-five unbearable minutes of intercourse and pointless chatter, with the one exception of Luna Lovegood — surprisingly. The girl had always had an aura of genius around her, from a certain point of view, and the newspaper had achieved new popularity in the wizarding world thanks to her.

She approached him — saving him from the gang of little journalists who were hoping to extort him who knows what interview - and offered him wine. "I knew you were coming, Mr. Snape" Luna affirmed with a dreamlike smile. "Although I also know that you aren't particularly interested in the company of the other guests, nor in mine." Severus nodded, without adding anything. "Have you met Licorice yet? She is very impatient to meet you, but they keep interrupting. So rude, isn't it?"

"Is she?" he asked, sounding more interested than he wanted. Too many years had passed, it was unlikely to be true — even though he didn't remember Miss Lovegood having ever lied in her entire career.

She brightened up. "It will be a splendid reunion, yours. This evening is surprisingly devoid of nargles, there is a very positive energy." And then she began to tell about the latest edition of the Quibbler which was to be published the following week; she revealed the titles of the articles to him in advance, and only at the end did she promise she would find Miss Hatch for him.

"There is no rush, Miss Lovegood. I'm sure Miss Hatch will have other impediments to deal with at the moment."

Luna shook her head. "Nonsense, she has done nothing but ask about you since she came back" and with these words she disappeared.

He sighed, keeping himself from brooding too much. The glass of Syrah in his hand was infinitely more attractive than his thoughts. However, hiding behind the shimmering crystal of his goblet hadn't been enough to escape Mr. Potter; the boy had grown up, undoubtedly, and if he were really interested about him the wedding ring on his left hand would have had a strange effect, but Severus had seen many students grow up, become adults and start their own lives over the course of nearly twenty years of teaching. It wasn't new.

Harry approached with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile. "I'm glad to see you here, professor. It's been a while."

Severus returned the gesture. "Since Granger and Weasley's wedding. And I don't have to remind you that I'm no longer a Hogwarts professor, do I Potter?"

"No sir. The Devon is good for your health, you look good."

Severus nodded. The boy — that young man — at least seemed as uncomfortable as he was. For some reason Harry had never stopped insisting; letters, invitations, Christmas cards. He never answered. "And how is Mrs. Potter? I haven't seen her yet."

"Oh no," Harry replied, with a smile "Ginny stayed home, the pregnancy is starting to be tiring and she needs rest." So they exchanged a few more words: Harry was excited about becoming a father, told him about their new home near the Burrow and how Hermione and Ron had preferred to move to London for the time being, and had the decency not to ask him many personal questions. When he confessed he had read his publications on Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Severus rolled his eyes and didn't even try to look flattered. His gaze ran bored over the crowd as the boy continued to speak.

"...another drink?" Potter asked.

The terrace slowly emptied as the remaining couples moved to the center. The speeches of thanks had stopped, light classical music floated in the air; Severus knew it was time to move and accepted another glass of wine with a defeated sigh. The bar was packed with people, many crowded in line for yet another cocktail and it was the perfect — terrifing — opportunity to reconnect with old, unpleasant acquaintances.

Harry raised his hand and greeted someone. Obviously, Severus thought. Two pairs of eyes turned towards them: Sirius Black approached, clutching a Campari with ice in his hand and accompanying a young, beautiful woman beside him. Snape was sure he hadn't seen her before; she wore a long black dress with two dizzying slits showing her tanned legs. When Sirius hugged Harry, she smiled at him.

"Ah, Snape" Black commented. His small black eyes giggled, studying the unusual blue suit - which actually fit him perfectly. "I heard you moved to the country side. How's life in the middle of nowhere?"

Severus didn't even waste the breath he needed to snort. "Torquay is hardly the middle of nowhere, Black — if I were you I'd think before I utter even a single word."

Harry had to intervene, for the umpteenth time, trying to avoid the nascent discussion and turned his attention to the music, commenting on the lovely evening that Luna had organized. Sirius nodded. "You are absolutely right, Harry. Dearest," Black turned to the young woman, showing off his best smile "would you like to dance?"

She grinned, a light of resolve illuminated her gaze. "Indeed yes" she replied, but she refused Sirius's hand when he offered it. "I would very much like to dance with you, professor Snape."

Sirius gasped, shocked. Snape smirked.

Oh, Severus wouldn't have let an opportunity like that pass by; rarely — perhaps never — such a beautiful woman would have preferred his hand to Black's, and now he could enjoy this little revenge. He slipped his hand down the woman's back, touching the bare skin with his fingertips to the hem of her dress, and led her onto the dance floor giving Balck one last defiant look. Then, finally, he moved his eyes to that lovely creature.

She was young, much younger than him. And she was smiling, still. She wasn't hesitant, but her hand rested on his shoulder with reverence, so light he could barely feel her through his jacket.

"I must inform you" he said, "that I'm not a professor, not anymore. It's been five years."

She giggled and nodded, starting to swing in his arms. Someone had given them a few curious looks, but he pretended not to notice, as always. "Yes, I know" she replied. "How do you find the evening?"

He shrugged, looked around to glare at the newly weds Weasleys, and sighed. "Dreadful. Still, the wine was delicious."

"That's all?" the whispered question sounded more like a challenge, a playful provocation. "Only... the wine?"

She was delightful. She was warm, bright. Severus had learned not to ask himself why a pleasant thing could happen to him; he spun her around before taking her back into his arms, she laughed and it was a sweet sound. And she looked at him. Her eyes were greedy, as if she were eagerly trying to quench her curiosity, to steal all his attention and the more she smiled at him like that — completely enraptured — the more he forgot everything that was around them. Delicious, indeed.

"I would say my evening has definitely, if unexpectedly, improved" Severus replied. His eyes darted to Sirius for a moment, enjoying his palpable nervousness, and he smirked.

She shook her head. "Hmm, that's so unfair," she muttered, amused. Severus lost himself in her bewitched gaze, mesmerized by her. He didn't know what to think; he just held her a little closer to his chest. She smelled good, lovely — familiar and comforting, somehow. "You take pleasure in the little revenge against your enemy, yet you have a young, beautiful woman in the palm of your hands, literally." And it was true. The song had changed, but she didn't let go: she took his hand and did another pirouette, leaving him baffled as she came closer and put both hands behind his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. If he blushed, she didn't notice. "And you didn't even ask me my name, did you?"

Severus was ashamed. It was in his habit to be rude and intractable, but not in his nature to be so terribly distracted. His back suddenly stiffened, his gaze turned hard and stern, but she just giggled in amusement, shaking her head. "God — you haven't recognized me yet, have you? And I thought you were waiting for my return!"

Words echoed in his mind and memories. Severus paled imperceptibly. His fingers dug into the hips of the young woman in front of him and he pulled her away to look at her a little better; she blushed, guilty.

"Licorice Hatch" he breathed.

Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't cry. "Finally, Severus."

If you love this story, keep reading here & please consider following me. That would be deeply appreciated. Thank you. 🖤

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gurugirl · 2 years

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The Tiffany Club Part 21

Summary: Back in NYC, Camille and Harry feel settled and back to normal. But then Camille gets a call from her parents and she begins to spiral.

Warning: Angst - Triggering topics (mentions of disordered eating as a means to self-soothe, toxic parents, and past trauma)

Part 20*

Part 21 ~Camille~

London in the winter is quite similar to New York City in the winter. It’s cold, windy, dreary, and coats and bundling up are very necessary.

Harry took me to all kinds of spots. He gave me to full tourist experience, and it was pretty magical.

After everything blew up with us when I ran off, I feel different about my relationship with Harry. He came after me. He does want me. I have to keep telling myself that I haven’t made a mistake with choosing to be with him. It’s hard to break the cycle of self-doubt and questioning myself for everything I do. Every bite of food I eat is met with me talking myself off the cliff. Before Harry came along I did things my way and never had to let anyone in. I didn’t need to care for anyone else or worry about someone else. But now I do. Now I have to allow myself to be vulnerable and in turn I must accept another person’s vulnerabilities.

The “punishment” I received from Harry was therapeutic in a way. I know it sounds nuts but it was like Harry knew exactly what I needed to feel how serious he is about me. I gave in to him. Completely. It was the first time in my life that I allowed myself to go into a bit of subspace. I don’t think I was totally gone because I was still aware, but somehow I was just happy to accept his love and let him show me without question. It was like my body said yes to him, surrendered fully, and my mind followed.

That night changed everything. Everything. Mostly in myself. It was like he hypnotized me and made me see how by trying to protect myself, I was actually hurting myself. More than his spankings hurt. And that fucking hurt.

I couldn’t sit properly for days on end. Harry was the best, though. Kissing my bum, putting ointment on me. He had me lay over his lap every night when we’d returned from trekking around London and he’d take a cool, damp, cloth and dab it over my sore bum, then put ointment over it. He’d make me lie like that for about thirty minutes every evening to let the ointment soak in and, as he said, so he could get a view of my pretty bum.

When we returned to New York City Barry was beside himself that we were back. His tale was whacking everything near him, causing his rear to swing him off balance. I nearly cried I was so happy to see him. My best boy ever. I am fully grateful to Richard and his care for Barry.

A few days after settling back home from our small vacation away in London, my parents called. I haven’t spoken to either of them in months. The last I spoke to my dad was in early September very briefly. And then I texted my dad a few weeks ago telling him I’d like to speak with him. He never responded, which I wasn’t surprised about. But I did feel it was important to talk to him and tell him to stop sending me payments every month. It felt wrong to continue letting him put money into my account when I had Harry now, and Harry was more than taking care of me financially.

It was a shock to see the incoming call. Harry was away at the office and I was doing some light research and chores in between when the call came in. A video call of course.

When I opened the call, there were my mom and dad. I hadn’t spoken to my mom since July probably. She and I weren’t on good terms ever since I moved away to New York City. A sinful place to live for a sinful girl.

It started with small talk. How are you? and what’s new?… and then my mom asked me about coming to visit.

“I just miss my daughter. I need to make sure you’re living your life righteously. I’d like to see your apartment and what you’ve been doing. So, we have booked tickets to see you next week.”

The whole experience of speaking to my mom has left me in shock. I’ve missed her so much and to hear her say she wants to see me and that they’re coming… I haven’t had contact with my mom in nearly six months and the holidays are coming so it would be nice to see them. But I have to break the news to them about where I’m living, and that I’m being taken care of by a rich man who loves me and treats me well.

So, as I listen to them tell me the plans they’ve made to come visit, I’m thinking of how to tell them what to expect. I can’t just let them come here under the assumption that I’m still living by myself. They won’t like that I’m living with a man I’m not married to, but I must be honest and tell them the truth.

“I’m so excited you both want to see me! But I do need to tell you something. It’s a recent occurrence but now that you’re interested in coming you should know, I don’t live by myself anymore.” I take a deep breath and sooth myself with reassuring words and kind thoughts about who I am and what I’m doing before continuing, “I met someone and I live with him. He’s a wonderful man, you guys will like him a lot. He’s from London. His name is Harry.”

I’m met with silence and lost looks from them both. I sit and wait for them to respond. My dad goes first, “Yeah? He’s taking the money I send you every month then?” My mom snaps her head toward my dad and gives him a look of confusion. My mother didn’t know about the money my dad was sending me, but it’s all too late now.

“No! Of course not, dad. He’s very wealthy, doesn’t need it. But that’s why I texted you a few weeks ago. I wanted you to know because I’ve saved all the money you’ve sent and I don’t need you to keep helping me. It didn’t feel right.” I can feel my mouth growing dry and my throat closing up. I’m trying to stay calm and confident, but my decisions are all on the table and being scrutinized by my parents.

My mother says something to my dad about the money and she looks hurt, maybe a little mad. My dad speaks softly to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. I can’t hear their quiet conversation, only every couple of words sounds clear and I can see their expressions.

My mom looks back toward the phone screen, “I knew it. I knew I would be disappointed. Your father talked me into this and I was so worried that he would be wrong and I’d still be left mourning you and your soul. I don’t know if I can take this…” my mother gets up and leaves the spot where they’re seated. It makes my heart drop. Her words are my biggest fear. She’s disappointed in me. She feels like she has to mourn me, like a death.

I can’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes at the notion I’ve hurt her again.

My dad speaks, “Camille, listen. We’ll still come see you. It’s a surprise to hear you’ve moved in with a man before you’re married but you’re still our daughter. We still continue to pray for you and seek God to guide you out of sin. We love you, but we don’t love the choices you make and I don’t know that we’ll be happy to meet this Harry. Perhaps we can arrange time with just you. I’m not sure your mother and I are ready to meet him.”

My tears roll down my face and drip off my chin as he speaks. All I want is for my parents to accept me and be happy for me. And to not want to meet Harry? I can barely get words out to respond to my dad. My lungs are one fire, my heart is sunk in my chest, my throat is closed up. My sobs are audible and my dad just sits and watches as I cry.

“Dad… I don’t… I’m so happy in my life. I just want…” I hiccup between words as I try to speak, “you and mom to be proud…” I let more tears roll down my face and I wipe them away. Barry jumps onto the couch next to me and lays his head in my lap. He knows I’m upset and his sweet presence helps me feel more calm and grounded.

“You’re not happy, though, Camille. Do you know how I know? You’re feeling so guilty right now that you’re in tears. God isn’t happy with you and so you aren’t happy with you. The guilt and shame you feel is all over your face. Come back to God and his ways and your life will begin to make sense and you’ll feel fulfilled again.”

It’s my nightmare happening in real time. I’ve dreamt of the words they’d say to me, the way they’d judge me and make me feel like I’ve done something wrong. It feels rotten and claustrophobic. I feel like taking myself into the bathroom and throwing up all my breakfast and then going to sleep until I don’t feel anything anymore. I’m sick to my stomach and I’m devastated by their reaction. I just want them to love me and be happy for me. I just want to be accepted by them.

I brush my hand along Barry’s head and close my eyes. I think of the words Harry has told me and how I get to make my own choices in life. I recognize that I am actually happy and that my parents’ words are traumatizing to me. They reopen these wounds with me every time we speak and it creates this expression of fear that manifests physically and emotionally and sets me back.

I realize to myself as I watch Barry’s belly rise and fall with each breath he takes that I’m where I’m happy right now. I’m okay without my parents and if they come visit, they’ll be invited to meet Harry and if they don’t want to meet him, they won’t see me. Because this is my life.

“I love you dad. Tell mom I love her. If you both…” I try to calm my voice, the leftover emotions and tears are still obvious in the way I’m talking, “would like to come see me, you’ll meet Harry. If you… refuse to see him, you won’t see me.” I let out a breath and squeeze my eyes closed for a second.

I can hear the exhale my dad makes, a disappointed sigh, “We’ll see, Camille. I’ll talk to you when you’ve thought this through. Your emotions are high right now because God is working on your heart. I’ll give you some time to soak in his presence and figure things out. I urge you to pray and keep your mind open to him.”

We end the call and it’s a relief to be off the phone. I call Harry immediately because he told me when I’m feeling this way to let him know. He doesn’t want me purging or doubting myself and I need him to tell me I’m okay.

“Hey baby.” His voice immediately calms me and I sigh.

“Hi, Harry. Uhm…” I start crying again because I’m so overwhelmed.

“Camille… honey… what’s wrong?” Harry sounds worried.

“My mom and dad called. It was awful, Harry. I’m so sick and tired of everything. I don’t know what to do.” I keep my hands on Barry and pet him.

“I’m coming home, baby. Can you wait right where you are for ten minutes? Don’t do anything. Get Barry and give him some love and I’ll be right home.”

Barry doesn’t move off my lap as I continue to let the tears fall. I feel ridiculous. I’m an adult woman and my parents’ words still have so much weight and significance to me. It feels like I’ll never free myself of this awful burden of needing to feel their acceptance. I wish I could just move on and block them, not let their view of things get to me like it does. I can’t seem to help it, though. But there is something that has me feeling like I can climb out of this mess and breathe in the end. That’s Harry. I hate relying on anyone because I always feel like I’ll be let down but if I don’t trust Harry then I can’t trust anyone and then I’m on my own, left to my own destructive devices.

When my tears are mostly dried and I feel my breathing settle I hear the front door open and Barry jumps off my lap and I get up to follow behind Barry to greet Harry. He puts his briefcase down and pulls me into his arms and squeezes me tight. No words, just his warm embrace. It good having him hold me. I feel okay. I can breathe.

He brings me to the couch and pulls me onto his lap, keeping his arms around me.

“Tell me what happened, Camille.” He keeps his eyes on me as I explain what was said and how it made me feel. I tell Harry that my parents are planning to visit but they don’t want to meet him.

“Well, you’re not going anywhere near them without me around. That’s for certain. Everything you’ve told me about your mom and dad is a red flag and you’re my girl. I’m not letting anyone hurt you. In fact, don’t answer calls from them if I’m not around. Okay? Until you can trust them to be nice, you shouldn’t have to deal with their awful attitude alone.” Harry’s face is set in a serious expression.

I nod, “Yeah, I told them if they wanted to see me they’d have to meet you. My dad acted like I’d change my mind, but there’s no way I’ll see them without you around.” I lay my head on Harry’s chest and close my eyes. The pattern of his chest rising and falling comforts me. This is a man I can trust.

“Let them come visit. I’d love to meet them and put them in their place if they start anything with you. I won’t stand for letting them get away with hurting you. I’ll take care of you, baby.”

“I’m so nervous, though. I really don’t want to see them and have you argue with them. There’s no changing their minds about their opinion of me.”

“And if they insist on being judgmental and speaking badly of you I’ll be kicking them out. You’re my girl. No one is going to say shit about you and not have some kind of repercussions for it. And they can’t stay here. They’ll need to find a hotel or something. Anyone who isn’t kind to you doesn’t get to stay in our home.” Harry rubs his hands up and down my back as he speaks. He’s so incredibly calming to me that I feel nearly fine now.

Harry cuddles me and we lie down on the couch together and fall asleep with Barry draped over our feet. There’s truly not enough space for the three of us but it works because an hour later when I wake up we’re all still piled on the couch together.

Harry makes me my favorite comfort food while I take a warm bath. He insists on pampering me for the rest of the day. I tell him it’s not necessary but he refuses to listen.

The following day Harry stays home with me and he encourages me to call my dad and tell them to come. Harry really wants to meet them and I have a feeling it’s because he wants to have a word with them in person. He’s very protective over me and most of my issues stem from my upbringing and the way my parents still treat me to this day.

Plans are set with my parents. My mom objects but my dad assures me they’ll be coming to visit. He’s also under the impression that they’ll be able to change our minds about letting them stay with us, even though I told them they’ll need to find a hotel. Harry has told me not to worry. He’ll take care of it and he’s not a pushover. Which is true. Harry’s confident and well spoken. He promised me he won’t be mean to them but he won’t let them say whatever they want or do whatever they want.

Every day leading up to their arrival, Harry asks how I’m feeling about everything. The only way I know to explain to him is that I’m comforted by his presence, and I feel like I can handle it when he’s with me. I’m nervous, but I’m confident.

On the morning they are due to arrive my dad calls me to let me know they’ll be getting a taxi to our house. My nerves suddenly take over. I’m cleaning and putting things away I don’t want them to see, making sure I’m wearing something appropriate, take Barry on a walk for my nerves, make lemonade and snacks for them, and try to keep myself sane.

Harry comes home when I’ve texted him that they’re on their way. He holds me for a bit and reassures me over and over again and I believe him when he tells me everything is going to be okay.

When we get a call from the front desk that our “guests” have arrived Harry holds my hand and looks into my eyes, “I’m right here. You are going to be okay. If at any point you can’t handle it you can go into our bedroom and I will kindly tell them to leave.

The knock at our door startles both of us and Harry brings me with him as he opens the door, keeping his hand around mine. My mother is stood in front of my father and she looks worn and tired and even a little scared. I smile at her and then my father. They both have luggage with them, I note.

Harry lets go of my hand as I go in to hug my mother. She embraces me with a gentle hug and then walks inside with her suitcase and when I move to hug my dad, he puts a hand at my shoulder and gives me a stiff smile. He nods and then walks past, rolling his suitcase behind him. I’m not too surprised by his coldness. He doesn’t typically show love with gestures like hugs so I let it go as I take Harry’s hand again.

Harry greets both of my parents and tells them to leave their suitcases in the hallway and I can’t help but feel how awkward they both are. To be invited into someone’s home and to act as if they are being put out is so blatantly rude I feel like pushing them both out of the front door and telling them to start over again, but this time doing it nicely.

I get them both some lemonade and we settle into the living room. Our silence is awkward but Harry doesn’t seem phased by their bad attitudes.

“How was the flight?” Harry asks.

My dad looks to me and then Harry before speaking, “It was alright. We prayed before we boarded and feel we’re both being watched over and taken care of.”

It takes a few minutes for everyone to settle but finally when my dad speaks again I have to roll my eyes at his words, “What are your intentions with our daughter? Am I to understand she lives here with you?”

Harry smiles and squeezes my hand, “I love, Camille. My intentions are to make her happy and give her everything she needs. She’s precious to me. And, yes, she lives here. Is that a problem?”

I wish Harry wouldn’t have asked that.

My mom sniffs but otherwise stays silent where my dad sits up straight and keeps his eyes on Harry, “It is a problem. Yes. You two aren’t married and I’m afraid that means this union isn’t a happy one in God’s eyes. It’s living in sin. Without God’s blessing, which you most certainly do not have given the circumstances, you two are likely to not last as a couple.”

I swallow and feel my heartrate pick up. I look to Harry and he seems calm.

“It’s interesting how you put more faith in a fairytale creature than in your own daughter. But I’m not here to argue religion or whatever with you. I will just say I simply disagree with your assessment of the situation.”

My dad furrows his brow and frowns, “A fairytale? Are you saying you do not believe in God?”

Harry nods, “Bingo. But I do believe in your daughter. She’s sitting right here, flesh and blood. A real human with real feelings and thoughts in her head. You prefer a fantasy over listening and accepting your daughter. I feel bad for you.”

I am beginning to feel hot and my nerves are starting to take over. This isn’t how I imagined it but my picture of what this would look like was probably just a pipedream.

“And I feel bad for you. If you don’t believe in God you’re damned to hell, son. I think you should reconsider your stance.”

Harry lets out a laugh that sounds condescending and he looks down at you, “This girl here is amazing, beautiful and smart with the sweetest, kindest heart and there isn’t any God in this world that could make me feel otherwise.” Harry looks back to my parents, “You keep talking about what God thinks but you don’t care about what your own daughter thinks? Shame.”

My dad shifts and clears his throat, “Do no tell me how to feel about my daughter. I know her better than you do. I’m her father.”

Harry stays calm and I’m surprised by his coolness, “You are her father, and that’s shame.”

Before either of them can continue I speak up, “Let’s change the subject for now. Um… mom, dad? Would you like a snack? Uh, or maybe we can go out to eat?”

My mom looks at me like I’m crazy and my dad responds, “So you’d rather eat then get to the bottom of what’s really going on here?”

I nod, “Of course. There’s nothing to dissect here, really dad. I’m not changing anything about my life just because of your visit. But maybe we can relax and talk about something else. Going out to eat might be nice.”

My dad squints and looks down over my body and then back up to my eyes, “You do appear to have gained a little weight. Are you pregnant, Camille?”

I suddenly feel faint and my vision blurs to red as blood rushes to my head. My dad knows I’ve struggled with food. Even before Tiffany’s I had issue but that was because my dad and mom always wanted everything from me to be perfect. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, the best at whatever I did, and even the perfect body which came with restricting and limiting my food intake.

Harry lets go of my hand and stands up, “Please leave my home. We’ll try this again tomorrow when you’re both settled and feeling friendlier. Camille doesn’t deserve her life and her appearance to be scrutinized by either of you.”

I stay still and take deep breaths to calm myself. I know what my dad is saying is to get under my skin. I hang on to Harry’s voice and his presence to keep myself grounded.

“We had told Camille we’d be staying here with you. Sorry if you didn’t understand that but we’re not planning on getting a hotel. The cost is outrageous.”

Harry laughs again and walks around the coffee table and Barry follows him. Barry is usually quite docile and doesn’t worry himself with guests but I have a feeling Barry is feeling the vibe and he’s concerned now as he stands at Harry’s side. Harry pats Barry’s head and raises his brows at my dad, “Get. Out. Of. My. Home. Right. Now.”

My dad stands up and grasps my mother’s arm to pull her. She keeps her eyes on me as if I need to step in and say something on their behalf but I’m still reeling from my dad’s comment about my weight gain.

My dad looks at me, “Camille, I’m disapp…”

His words are cut off by Harry stepping in closer and raising his voice, “Do not finish that sentence! Leave now. Both of you!”

My mom and dad make their way out of Harry’s home silently and Harry slams the front door closed once they’re gone.

He immediately comes back to me as I’m still sitting on the couch and puts his arms around me and rocks me gently.

“Are you okay, honey?” He kisses the top of my head.

I nod into his chest and feel lighter now that my parents have left, “I feel better now that they’re gone. Thank you, Harry.”

Harry dotes on me and takes care of me during the rest of the day. It’s nice to be loved and taken care of. Even when my dad texts me later on that evening, Harry is the one to text him back, telling him that we’ll reach out to them in the morning.

He kind of feels like my hero lately. Harry has made me feel confident and happy and during the time we’ve been together he’s shown me what it feels like to be loved and to allow myself to love in return.

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