PUPS IN THE PARK 3 WAS AWESOME! SEE U GUYS AGAIN ^_^
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PUPS IN THE PARK 3 WAS AWESOME! SEE U GUYS AGAIN ^_^

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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PUPS IN THE PARK OUTFIT!! Also lowkey a face reveal
I had soooo much funnnn!!!
(I am a minor - do NOT sexualise me)
I got to be a wolp at the park at the weekend which was great! šŗ
got told i was somones Idol on tiktok even tho i barely post and am cringe as shit
DAWG PLEASE YOUR SCARING ME
anyway back to normal shanangons im very excited for pups in the park
J for the mini fic..... just waiting for the angst!! PS I love you
Requested also by @shadefulbash
Iām sorry it took me so so long, guys! (Jenn, you know I love you loads, donāt you?)
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦
J: When Words Arenāt Enough
Hermione could sense Harry moving around in their kitchen area, the faint light from the candle seeping through the canvas curtain that separated their ābedroomā from the dining area. She and Harry had decided to take shifts to keep watch, and Hermione knew that in a couple of hours it would be her turn. She knew she ought to grab some sleep but she couldnāt.Ā
It was hard to say if the sun had set already. From the faint light entering through one of the bedroom windows, she could see that it was beginning to get dark, the cacophony of the birds too had ceased to be replaced with the sinister silence of the forest. A little later she heard the rustling of dry leaves and twigs followed by Harryās movements. Soon there was the crackling of a fire outside and the faint rays of light seeped in through the canvas.
It was almost impossible to imagine that they had woken up at the Grimmauld Place that very morning, broken into the Ministry, managed to grab one Horcrux, gave away the location of their hideout and ⦠almost lost Ron.Ā

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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in case
A/N: First of all let me have a moment to bask in the glow of finishing/publishing two fics in one month (well, twoĀ āchaptersā at least).Ā
Ok, thatās better: when I was writingĀ ājustā I didnāt intend for it to be a multi chapter, but I couldnāt stop thinking about what might happen next. So, here is the next installment, a dose of #pitp for my DEM crew.
As of now, this is still very much a canon, missing moments work (you know Iām a sucker for those), but I am not sure if I can keep myself off the AU ledge.Ā
Thanks for the support, and likes, and reblogs (and violent gifs @jenn582), it really does butter my biscuit!Ā
Also much love to @callieskye without whom I would probably be a much more responsible adult instead of obsessing over fictional characters (and plotting to lick mona lisas). First round is on me this weekend!Ā
It was wrong, all wrong: not that he was really sure just how heād pictured it. It wasnāt like heād thought that hunting horcruxes would be easy or safe or hell, glamorous, but he had assumed that heād be doing it with two functioning arms.
Now here he was again, flat on his back with her tending to him. Having an excuse to have her so close; her smooth, cool hands brushing back his hair from his fevered face, her nimble fingers gently adjusting his bandages, was most certainly not a bad thing, but it was not what he had wanted. He had wanted to be the one doing the tending. Not that he wanted her hurt, the thought made him literally sick to his stomach, but he needed to show her that she could depend on him. That night in his room, just a few weeks ago, he'd actually felt that for the first time she understood, really understood what he was saying, what he was feeling. Which was a special type ofĀ miracle considering how long it took him to understand it his own damn self.
Heād spent all of fourth year trying to actively not think about what made his friendship with Hermione so different from his one with Harry. Despite popular opinion, he had known she was a girl, in a vague sort of way. He'd also already known that he liked her as something more than just a friend. But that was the same with Harry: both had flown right past the āfriendsā category and into āfamilyā long before that ill-fated ball. But as fifth year loomed, a realization came clawing at him: he wanted to snog Hermione, and that was most certainly not the same as Harry.Ā
Hi! May I request #66 from the kissing prompt list? Please and thank you!
Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! x
Itās a bit of an AU, mid-DH thing, forewarning.
#66: Staring At The Otherās Lips, Trying Not To Kiss Them, Before Giving In
āOh my God, I hate you, I hate you-ā
Her shouting faded to muttering as she paced furiously between brittle trees, hands clenched into fists at her sides. He watched almost blankly, too tired to argue anymore - he hated himself, too - and already too accustomed to her resentment and too exhausted to feel more than glancing sorrow at how deep this was, how impossible it felt to go back to even friendship, now.
Two nights previous, when heād returned, her rage had been much harsher than heād hoped⦠yet somehow he reckoned he should have expected it. He felt like an arse now for how heād held out his arms to her then, as if she might gladly welcome him back, as if she might have missed him⦠as if the words Harry had spoken about how sheād cried when heād gone had proven it.
He didnāt want to look too closely now, to see the hurt heād caused so clearly, but her tears were running freely down her flushed face, a disconcerting mixture of fury and devastation, and he hated that he knew that look so well. Maybe this was the worst of it, maybe heād never have to see this again, to make her feel so strongly against him that even the icy cold out here in the wilderness couldnāt send her back inside the tent til she was done. If he could do nothing else, he could do that, at least. He could stop being the reason, starting right then. No, starting weeks ago, really, when heād been alone in his room at Bill and Fleurās, nearly unable to breathe from regret.
Iām sorry felt like an entirely pitiful thing to say again. So, he said nothing else for too long, their softly bickering row about the foraging they were doing fading to the distant background. Why had he thought it might work, to gently debate with her and regain familiar ground? Familiar wasnāt what she wanted, anymore.Ā
His eyes prickled and watered, and he tried not to blink.Ā
āWhy donāt you go back inside and warm up, and Iāll finish this.ā It was feeble, but heād tried. She glared at him, and he felt his shoulders sag with defeat. He half-rolled his neck to escape the tension, and a whimpery sort of cry flowed from her.Ā
āWhy donāt you go?āĀ
āI could. I⦠maybe I should. But I donāt want to leave you out here-āĀ
Wrong. The wrong fucking words to say. He winced painfully.Ā
āYou donāt want toā¦ā The squeaking high pitch of her voice made her unable to finish the sentence. Or perhaps the next word was as stuck in her throat as heād thought it had been in his, before heād accidentally let it go.Ā
āIām sorry,ā he whispered, in that pathetic way heād avoided before. He was instantly sorry heād said it, ironically.Ā
But something changed. His heart beat faster, and he could never have explained why.Ā
āEverythingās ruined,ā she said, in an eerily weak voice. āYou ruined it.āĀ
His lips parted to answer with words he hadnāt yet chosen. And he would swear the blood was rushing in his ears before sheād completely changed her tone again and said what came next.
āI love you.ā She cried it out, as sharply as sheād been shouting the opposite, moments before.Ā
He couldnāt speak. His feet were sinking into the earth, surely. The vast forest around them was closing in, and they would suffocate in ringing silence.Ā
āDonāt you know that?ā she added in a shaking whisper.Ā
Of course he hadnāt known. Heād longed. Heād dreamt. Heād suffered wondering, agonising, running from hope when he couldnāt bear to know the truth. He shook his head in shock, a tiny motion he knew she saw.Ā
He wanted to scream how he felt for her now, for all the barren wasteland of the world around them to know.Ā
But she hated him. She loved him? And heād ruined everything. He couldnāt say it back.Ā
He had to say it back, even if she didnāt want him to, anymore.Ā
Damn him for being unable to control his eyes for that one brief second when his gaze flicked down to her parted lips.Ā
āYou know I love you, too.ā The words were dry and rough, and her eyes widened as she moved closer.Ā
She stared at his lips now too, trembling, for twice as long as heād looked at hers. The brief shake of her head was so much more impactful than heād expected it had been when heād done it, seconds earlier. Theyād loved each other and hadnāt known.
And heād ruined it.Ā
She stepped closer, close enough that he had to tilt his neck down to look at her.
He didnāt stop himself that time when his gaze slipped down her beautiful, flushed face to her lips again. He didnāt notice her shallow breathing until he was doing it, too. But he couldnāt.Ā
She loved him. He couldnāt.Ā
Desperate, numb in the cold, heād left her.Ā
She wasnāt even trying not to stare. Her eyes were glassy, tired and scared and yet somehow frighteningly alert.
He couldnāt. But she would. Or they would. Or something muddled up and twisted, in between.Ā
She held onto his jumper before it happened, a tight fist in thick wool, a tiny cry one fraction of a second before her parted lips met his.Ā
He melted into her, one hand in her hair and the other spreading across her back, and there was nothing, nothing that could measure⦠The world was gone and there was only this. He would have probably cried if he hadnāt been so sharply focused on the way she felt. She slid up his body, pushing onto her toes as she looped her arms tight around his neck. Almost too tight, but oh, he didnāt care. He couldnāt tell if heād lifted her off the ground when his own arms circled her strongly or if she just felt that light to him, so easy that it hardly seemed to take any effort.Ā
He felt the tension in his forehead as he struggled with comprehension. Her voice echoed in his mind, telling him sheād loved him. No. No past tense. Love. Her tongue met his; she tasted like bitter tea and Hermione. And bloody hell, how could he know, how could he think such a thing when theyād never done this before?Ā
She made a sound in the back of her throat, a strangled sort of cry, and he almost broke away until her nails raked up into his hair. He moaned deeply in response, only half-aware.Ā
Finally, finally, she pulled her lips away with a dragging motion that sent a jolt of pleasure flying through his frozen body. She was shivering, trying to breathe, feet back firmly on the ground and staring up at him.Ā
What now? Oh God, what now?Ā
Everything.Ā
āIāve wanted to do that for⦠so long,ā he half confessed in a heavily raspy voice that hardly sounded familiar.Ā
āYou should have done it, then,ā she whispered back. A twitching, lopsided grin broke across his face, and she was still looking so longingly up at himā¦Ā
The world returned in waves, a rustling wind, the chill of her fingers on his neck, Harry roughly clearing his throat up the hill by the tent behind him.
She let go.
āDonātā¦ā she started, and a hint of fear passed through her features as if she wasnāt sure she should say it. But then, as quickly as it had fled, her resolve returned, and she licked her lips. āDonāt leave me again.ā
āNever,ā he said firmly, no part of him afraid anymore, not caring how it sounded, all the depth of meaning in one little word. He meant it all. And now she finally knew.