RavenC_Simpsonizer

Maryanne squealed quietly, the sound half mixed with a delighted sigh as warm water rushed down her back. She took her hair out of its already loose bun, placing the bobby pins on the sink. But she kept the ring around her neck on that chain. She refused to take it off. Not to bathe, not to sleep, not to work. She was happier when she wore it- the black stone reflecting the light slightly despite it being fogged with condensation and water trickling down the polished gold. Tommy was so generous using his magic for this…ever since he’d proposed with this ring she’d been a lot happier. She’d always thought of Tom fondly but she tended to associate everything with him now. Honeymoon phase, perhaps.

She was so lost in her thoughts, doing a small twirl as she let the warmth envelop her that she didn’t hear the door open.

“Tommy!” She squealed, still laughing and hiding her body behind the floral curtain, though peeking her head out a little. Her wet hair was in ringlets around her shoulders, sticking plastered to her skin.

“I’m sorry my love, I merely wished to bring you this. I had it warmed by the fire before placing a charm on it to retain that heat for several hours. I figured you’d like it.”

“Tommy, you didn’t have to…”

He traced his thumb over her jaw. She grabbed his wrist to tug him in with her despite the fact he was still fully clothed. A barely disguised grimace crossed his face for a mere moment before he schooled it again, giving her a soft, small smile.

“You’re still too skinny.” He murmured into her neck, so she couldn’t see his expression, hands running over her sides and lathering her body with this scented soap from Hogsmeade she’d grown rather fond of. She was still slim despite the fact he’d been doubling the rations with his magic. Though in secret, so muggles wouldn’t see the magic.

“We should probably get you out quickly.” He murmured, sliding his hands under her thighs to pick her up. As she dried herself with the warm towel, Tom cast a spell to dry his suit. He was sick and tired of ratty muggle orphan clothes so he’d brought a suit at hogsmeade, for a far cheaper price than a muggle suit.

“Still having trouble sleeping, my darling?” “I just…keep remembering the bombs is all.” “Sleep in my bed, if you wish.” “Really?” He never let her sleep in his bed…well, she often went in it but he never gave *prior* permissions…

She soon curled up in bed with him, head on his chest and arms firmly around him. He whispered in parseltongue in her hair which made her shiver. “Would you like to read tonight my darling?” “Would you be able to show me more magic Tommy?”

“If I must.” He sighed, reaching to the bedside table. He always slept on the outside of the bed, whereas Maryanne had her back to the wall (so the only direction she can face is towards him, whereas he can leave, choose not to face her and reach his wand more accessibly)

As he held his wand, he turned down the oil lamp until it flickered dimly, stark against the darkness of the room, the light of the moon flickering on the tiles- just over the one that creaked slightly whenever either crossed the room to the others bed.

“Can you do the spell with the colours?…”

He murmured an incantation under his breath and puffs of coloured smoke appeared. With each one, her eyes grew heavier until she slept in his arms.

But in the night, she heard bombs, and jolted awake.

It took her a while to remember that they weren’t bombs. The war was over. She was safe,

Tom was awake beside her. “Another back dream, Maryanne?”

“Y-yeah-.”

“Lumos.” A small light appeared at his wand tip and he passed it to her, letting her hold it like a lifeline. “do you need anything sweetheart?”

“Could you read to me?”

“Whatever you wish.” He kissed her hand and got out of bed, expertly passing the creaky step and opening her bedside drawer. It jingled incriminating- deafening in the silence of the night.

“What’s this?”

About 3 empty tomato paste cans filled with spare money.

“For that house. By the sea side. The one we always talked about when we were little.”

“I see…” he picked up Hamlet and read to her slowly.

“I don’t see how you haven’t finished this yet, a keen reader like you.”

“I don't read it unless you’re here. It’s *our* think, I suppose.”

“I read your book reports.” He said dryly. They still wrote frequently while he was at school- and she’d sometimes make a book report on a novel she’d read. The last one had been Sense and Sensibility.

“Did you like them?”

“A welcome respite from revision, I must say.”

Maryanne preened slightly at the phrase, fingers brushing the ring on her neck.

“Oh I brought you a new lipstick in Hogsmeade. A shade of rouge that seems to be popular with muggles and witches alike.”

Tom always struggled coming back to muggle London because what Maryanne did was so different to her magical counterparts. They wore short skirts, had premarital sex, wore trousers, had the same rights as men, were seen as capable and equal…yes some stupid muggle born men still had the ridiculous notion that the witches had to work twice as hard to prove themselves but in the whole it had been relatively equal since the 1890’s. But Maryanne had…none of that. That’s what Maryanne had come to appreciate in her adult life though, the fact Tom wasn’t as closed minded as most muggle men. She’d hold his arm somewhat smugly going down the streets, though she always felt guilty in the moment. Tom was so chivalrous and sweet to her and recognised her as an individual with unique interests and opinions, an equal to talk to- whereas women Maryanne was acquainted with often had to beg their husbands to spend quality time with them- especially as these norms were reinforced by the sudden rise in functionalism.

“You didn’t have too Tommy…”

“Nonsense. I figured the shade would look ravishing on you, my darling. Though little ceases to make you anything less than gorgeous.” She flushed, the gentle pink painting her cheeks. “I shall wear it tomorrow then.”

“I would like that very much.”

“Please keep reading, Thomas…you left it on a cliffhanger last time.”

He sighed good naturedly and flicked through the pages, heat flaring in Maryanne’s stomach as she saw the calligraphy of ‘Property of Maryanne Riddle’ written in cursive inside the cover of the book. If he noticed it, he didn’t react. She didn’t really listen to the story, despite how interested she was, because she was far too busy admiring his side profile. Sharp jaw and even sharper gaze…perfectly arched brows….those soft waves falling in front of his eyes…those miles on his jaw. He’d utterly captivated her.

It was when she reached out to touch said hair that she drifted to sleep, his wand in her hand and his ring around her neck. His hand wrapped around her heart.

"you're brainsickly naive.  Doth thou very receive  that there's another way? that fate shall drop a golden round  into mine lap so unprompted?"

"i didn't mean to offend, mine lord.  That thee but  are  not just mine lord, thou are mine companion so it is within mine office to forbear thou from being reckless.  Prithee. I merely bid  thou to regard of all possible solutions  'i  the event that the witches weren't just  mocking  thou and speaking  'i  half truths.  'tis  unbecoming of me to say this so forbear me, if thou might not but,  yet  i care for thou deeply and shall  not watch thou hie mad with power and lust for a golden round  that isn't yours.  By committing heresy thou are condemning yourself to be damned to hell and for what? allow fate to run 'tis course or so talk to me! thy wife merely intends to direct thou down a path of darkness and fall from god's grace like eve tempting adam so i pray of thou to shun her and instead talk to or pursue me for I do lack the meetest for thou and if there could  any way to  hast thou crowned, rest assured i would move the heavens and the earth to allow thou to sit on that throne, and if being by thy side means thou are bathed  'i  gold  yet  upon mine pate is a golden round  of thorns then so be it.  Hence please, dear companion, shun the witches, we find another way.  We.  Not thou,  not thy temptress of a wife.  Me and thou. "

"you are expressing the fondest of affections for me, such things i didn't regard thou were capable of, dear friend.  I didn't take thou for some one so unsinew'd. "

"i've aye been by thy side and i shall ne'r forbear to be.  I'd course  thou to hell and back  yet  i would thou'd forbear going there because I't bear to until suffer. "

BONUS:

Google knowing it’s Macbeth fanfiction im crying

HYGIENE!!! Yes, brushing your teeth and everything is very hard, especially when you’re bed rotting because of an episode, mental health or neurodivergence. So what I’d do is I’d make my parents or someone in the house force me to shower. I’d brush my teeth while in the shower to multitask it so it didn’t feel like two big tasks but instead one manageable task. And then, I’d come out the shower and be like ‘damn…I feel too clean to not do something’. I wouldn’t do skincare or makeup or even get dressed- but it would get me downstairs and with my dog. Baby steps!!!

Clothing. Wear something that FEELS productive. For me, it’s my nice pink pyjamas- the kind that girls always wear on their preppy GRWM videos. That COMBINED with the shower makes me feel like I *have* to do something. Especially bc my brain associates the outfit with productivity.

This is for my neurodivergent girlies but I cannot relax if I don’t feel right, you know? So, after the shower, I’d let one sock get wet and then put on the wet sock. I couldn’t relax at all like that. It kept me out of bed and instead I was just waking around and doing stuff because it was so triggering that I couldn’t rot because I couldn’t sit down. But this is to be used carefully so you don’t overstimulate yourself because that might reduce progress.

Have a speed dial. I had a friend text me almost every month to say ‘hey! So excited to come over around 3!’ Spontaneously. Obviously, my autism made me forget the fact my friend wasn’t actually coming over but it triggered fight or flight because I was embarrassed to have someone over in the mess of my room and that embarrassment actually made me do stuff. She never showed up tho- bc I’d asked her to just text me that single sentence to trigger that reaction.