cherry bomb

tagged by @thewrongsorts​ thank u so much // tagging you, you’re reading this, you’re doing this, u hear me

acts of dominance mh yes

His hair was black and her dress was white -- it was only fitting that the smoke that came out of her lips was grey.

"If I'm being honest, I'm feeling... absurd opposites right now. This seems like the definition of an oxymoron", she said, as she turned around so her body would rest on the balcony, "You shouldn't be here, yet here you are. And here I am, not kicking you out. You're the last person that should be on my mind, yet I called your name when I woke up this morning. I hate that you're here-- and at the same time, it feels like it was meant to be. I discarded you from my life, and I'm here now thinking maybe you were the missing piece to make this day perfect."

Her dress made soft noises as it grazed the floor, so soft anyone could hear the paper of the cigarette burning when she took a draught-- that, and the jewlery on her ears and neck, in perfect sync with the hairdo made with flowers. Lily turned to stare at him directly, letting out smoke escape from her painted lips.

Seven truths, she thought.

She could hear her own heartbeat. There had been times in her life where she thought she could hear the soft thump-thump of her heart, but this time--- it felt different. It was not a thump-thump. It was more like drums. An explosion that reverberated, every single beat sending waves of energy as her steps mimicked the sound. Ironic, considering that every step forward could potentially lead to the stopping of her heartbeat.

She stood on the designated spot, and that she knew because she was the one to set the appointment. Her thumb grazed her wedding ring from time to time as if to draw strenght from her husband.

“I came alone”, she said, after a long silence, stretching both of her hands with her palms up, “I will not touch my wand”

She had rehearsed this words more times that she could possibly count, yet each of them carried a weight she could perfectly measure-- and it hurt. Her eyelids slowly closed.

“I’ll open my mind so you can see for youself that I’m not playing any tricks”, she stopped talking, giving him time to penetrate her mind and see her truths, focusing on the seven essentials, as she called them, and the proposal.

The one thought that surfaced, though, was the wish that she would live long enough to say all of it. All seven of her truths.

hands up for my son’s birthday.

“Do you love me? I know you’ll say ‘yes’... and I’ll believe you”

This was far, far outside her comfort zone. Normal Lily would be pleased to be doing anything else: her gaze shifted from the window, where she could see the beautiful, sunny day, the birds chirping, the lake flowing, the grass-- well, being grass, green, soft; and then to the door. Even the cold hallways offered more. Yet her discomfort didn’t show. Her eyes quickly locked with his own, with intensity, longing---

“But if you swear you love me, you mught turn out to be lying. They say Jove laughs when lovers lie to each other”

But this wasn’t normal Lily. This was needy Lily: the Lily that needed something, and Merlin knew that if you needed something, Hurley Corman was the name. And needy Lily was brave, and willing to do things out of her comfort zone to get what she wanted.

And she wanted the LP Play that funky music by Wild Cherry so bad. So, so bad.

“Oh, Romeo, if you really love me, say it truly. Or if you think it’s too easy and quick to win my heart,  I'll frown and play hard to get, as long as that will make you try to win me, but otherwise I wouldn't act that way for anything”

So she did what she had to. She placed her pale hands on the makeshift balcony, and stared at him like he was the sun itself, the reason for every single one of her heartbeats. Like his sole presence was enough to ignore the itchy fabric of her white and gold dress, a little too long for her, a lot too small in the chest area.

Motherhood implied many things. Most of all, the word came with a warm, peaceful sensation. Pregnancy felt like an unspoken bow of love-- A bond created without the parts of it knowing each other. Without seeing each other’s eyes, but sharing feelings. When mom is upset, the child kicks. When the kid is upset, the mom feels it.

“FINE? LIKE BLOODY HELL I AM FINE!”

Motherhood was a path of comprehension, patience and love. A tale no one can fully describe until they reach the place, until the glee of life starts working in every cell, even in a molecular level. As if every nerve ending was connected, two beings in one, two hearts beating at the same tempo, dancing to the same rhythm.

“THIS THING FED OFF ME FOR NINE MONTHS, I WANT IT OUT”

Motherhood was a tale of sacrifice, about sharing your body and your feelings, as the circle of life commences with something as pure as the love shared between two beings, forming one soul that would carry their legacy, their teachings, their unconditional support…

 “WHY COULDN’T I KEEP MY LEGS CLOSED?!”

Tangled red hair. Contractions, barely spaced, a sign of the marvelous joy to come. Of the happiness of love creating life, creating a whole new destiny, altering the course of everything. Giving the world a new heartbeat, a new voice, a new love.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, POTTER!”

A tiny new life. An old, wild love.

“I’m going to need you to push, Mrs. Potter”

“AND DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M DOING ANYTHING ELSE?”

A spark of lust, a whole serving of love, and an unspoken bow of eternal love, comprehention and acceptance.

 “NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU STICK YOUR DICK INSIDE ME, JAMES, BLOODY FUCK, NEVER!!”

A bunch of distant noises that didn’t make any sense, like a bunch of alarms ringing at their loudest, all while drowning in a sea of little lights that kept her from focusing on the task ahead, that was to give birth while getting a Guinness record on the loudest curses. Yet, one particular sound caught her attention.

“Lils, flower, look at me”, it was her husband’s voice, “I need you to relax”

“Well SAY that to the seven pounds that are struggling their way out of my vagina! Because…” a scream, “THE CHILD DOESN’T STRIKE ME AS THE RELAXED TYPE!”

She was sure she was breaking at least half of the bones in his hand, but she’d have time to apologize later, just after she took the bows of never having sex again, in her whole life, in front of the Pope itself for that matter.

“Breathe, Lils”

“I WOULD IF A THING YOU MADE WITH YOUR WIENER WASN’T CRUSHING MY DIAPHRAGM!”

What a joyful moment motherhood was. What a show of love, what a true glimpse of paradise where love was the creator and the only guide, ruler of all.

“You’re almost there, Lils, you just… need to keep pushing!”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT I NEED-- AN EPIDURAL IS WHAT I NEED!”

“Epiwhat?”

 ...

After forty one minutes and thirty five seconds, that felt like roughly one and three quarters of eternity for her, the struggle was over. Tears of pain had no chance to dry because tears of joy replaced them, as every fear about bringing life was crushed down by the inexplicable happiness of watching a tiny, bloody bundle of blankets being placed near her chest by the shaky hands of her husband.

And the universe became one person. One breathing, crying, little angry person that was apparently missing his original home. No sound had been sweeter than that cry that softened as seconds passed, but time was no measure, because nothing could measure something as big as that small human was. It was in that moment where she understood what her purpose was. Who she was. What her love for James, her immense adoration for him meant. And just a cry—that tiny yelling voice was enough to know that she loved him. That she would never be complete if she didn’t have him, and his father.

waves shyly

hi uhm i kinda miss lils? and it’s been a while since i’ve rped because mental health can be a bitch. and mine is in the dumpster. no, under the dumpster, but this one is broken and all the filth is down there. but i miss it and i want to be back, and i hope you can all forgive me for my long absence and take me back! and rp with me!

The Order never took murder lightly, and this was not the exception. The loss of a life, no matter the side on the war, had always been a price far too high to pay. Alastor Moody, sitting next to her, was probably the person who knew all it took. 

She sat there, nibbling at her lower lip, hearing everyone’s assumptions with great interest. They all had their deductions, but none of them had the look of someone willing to make the final accusation. She stared at all of them, their tiredness and their courage mixed in a particular way that no one that wasn’t at war because of their ideals could even possibly understand. Her eyes traced the scars in Alastor’s face. She knew if someone had the answer, it had to be him.

But he was next to speak. And she knew the answer was there. In their faces, as they all watched her expectantly. As they waited for her to lay out her cards, to speak her mind about the atrocious murder. The clues were there, the answers were there. 

So she softly left her notes on the table, and spoke.

te-te-te-tenshionmakusu meme

💍  :    our  muses  are  mistaken  for  a  couple  by  someone  else .

She had to wait until the truck was safely back inside her room, that most of her family sat on the living room in the comfy and mismatched couches, but it seemed like the words were begging to be released, for her tale to be told.

The words she was waiting for came from her father. “Tell us everything, Lily, dear”, he said.

The big breath she took to start wasn’t even nearly enough big to supply her with enough air to talk about all the things she wanted to speak about. About moving staircases, talking portraits, strict professors whose height reached her waist, ghosts that you could speak to, and all kinds of spells and creatures.

Almost all of her family was on the verge of their seats, being the most pleasant crowd: knowing when to say ‘oh!’, ‘ah!’ or ‘really?’, allowing her to use dramatic and unnecessary pauses, and even applauding at the point where she spoke about her examinations. All of them except her sister, who kept frowning and pressing her lips into a thin line when she mentioned the extraordinary-- which meant most of the conversation was spent with Tuney’s lips glued together in a semblance of clear and outright reprobation.

“But there’s this guy---” she started, sitting as straight as she could as if her posture showed she was doing it the proper way, considering her next words, “He’s mean! He’s just rude! From the moment Sev and I got into the train he was nothing but rude! And-- and he thinks he’s so great because his father taught him how to ride a broom and that apparently gives him a spot in the... I don’t know, magical hall of fame or something! A real, real troublemaker, that one!”

She folded her arms under her chest, frowning at the mere memory of the boy with glasses. “I don’t like how he treats Sev, and I don’t like how he acts as if he owns the place! It’s like he’s been nothing but pampered since he was born and he thinks it should be the same at Hogwarts!”

“And who is this boy, Lily?” her father asked with a half smirk that Lily could not analyse.

“Potter! James Potter! I hate him!”

Only when her parents saw her red hair flowing and the rest of her disappear behind the door of her room, they allowed themselves to let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, I think she really has an opinion on the young man”, said her mother, bending over to pick up the bag of laundry of robes.