#c; garrett

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@bonfierhearts hit the 💕

| | | for garrett

It’s his voice that she recognized first, no the man himself. The sound of it is unmistakable and for a moment she finds herself looking for the source. BUt then she blinks and his face seems to at last come into focus. In truth, he does not look all too different than he had a teenager but it had been nearly six years since she’d seen him--or at least since she’d expected to see him. 

Margaery considers just leaving him to order his coffee in peace but something stops her. Curiosity or perhaps even guilt. Guilt for the way they had drifted from each other. Guilt for having seen it happening and doing nothing to stop it. The decision was made for her when their eyes met and she saw recognition bloom in his face. “Garrett,” she said, adopting a cautious smile and a friendly--albeit hesitant--tone of voice. “How are you?”

[wastheheart-arc]

40 Random Questions

@viciouslostones (garrett) asked: "are you mad at me?" (thank you!)

A brow arched automatically in reply, Esme's expression one of confusion more than anything else. What was is about red-eyed vampires that made them think Esme was angry at them, especially those considered friends? Still, Esme shook her head before verbally confirming she was, indeed, not mad at Garrett.

"Look, unless you've broken a vintage vase—and I'd leave that to Emmett of all people—I don't think you've got anything to worry about."

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MEMES FROM LORI! | @mercyburned​

❝ your arse in those trousers is a crime. ❞ - Garrett

She was bent over the bathroom counter, trying to get a better look as she pulled her hair to one side and pushed some hair pins into place. Her brother Willas was expecting her downtown soon and, naturally, she was running late. That fact did nothing to hasten her process--in truth, tardiness never did and most people seemed to forgive her for it eventually. 

Margaery turns her head at the sound of Garrett’s voice and, after a moment’s pause, grins. “I’m more than aware--but thank you, love.” It pleased her to think he’d been watching her, even in the midst of a task so menial as fixing her hair. After tousling a few curls into place and giving her reflection one last peek, she walked back into his room. He wore that crooked little grin she loved so well and had a look in his eye that made her want to cancel plans with her brother altogether. “Have some patience,” she says, pulling him in close by the belt loops of his own trousers. “and maybe I’ll let you strip them off of me later. Sound good?”

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SEND A # TO KISS MARG (accepting) | @mercyburned​ 

35. a kiss on the space between shoulder blades -- From Garrett

Margaery had been on the verge of a deep sleep when a dip in the bed and sudden warmth at her back brought her once more to the waking world, albeit groggy and unwilling. She doesn’t remember him getting up in the first place but it was not uncommon for him to rise in the middle of the night and for her to find his side of the bed cool. Perhaps it is due to nightmares or the restlessness that so oft defined him but he’s never broached the subject and Margaery has no desire to bother him about it before he’s ready. 

She murmurs something soft to him--the actual words less important than the general, affectionate welcome back into her bed--and rolls over onto her stomach. He does not settle onto his own side but follows her with insistent, familiar touches and the trailing of lips down the exposed skin of her back. Margaery stretched a little under his touch, uncertain if she really wanted him to stop and let her fall back into sleep.

 Tired though she was, the heat of his breath upon her skin and the press of sweet kisses between her shoulder blades had roused her in ways more than one. She lay there for a long moment before turning over to face him and pull him into an eager embrace, expecting him to make good on the promises his kisses had implied. 

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@mercyburned​ | shippy starter

for garrett

Dinner was winding down and there was a steady stream of students making their way the Great Hall, leaving the four long tables only sparsely populated. Margaery lingered absently long after finishing her food, listening only halfheartedly as Malfoy went on about the day’s outrage and Pansy cooed her sympathies. Movement from the Gryffindor table caught her eye, prompting her to abandon the front of interest and make her excuses to her housemates. 

She makes it to the great arched entrance to the hall only moments after he does, calling out to catch his attention. Lee Jordan and one of those Weasley twins--she can never tell which--give her perfunctory greetings before abandoning Garrett to her company. She’d always liked them well enough but she cannot help but feel glad for their absence--at least for now. 

“Want a good excuse not to do your homework tonight?” she asks, stepping directly into his path and continuing to walk backwards as she spoke. “You’ll have to spend time with me but I think it’s the sort of sacrifice you’d be willing to make.”

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@mercyburned​ (continued from here)

    what did he dream of?  garrett had spent years as a child trying to figure out the answer to that bloody question.  he never dreamed of normal things,  like running to the grocery store or taking a walk in the fields near his uncle’s house.  or even weird dreams,  like the weasley twins told him about sometimes.  it took him until the sorting hat was plopped on to his head seven years ago to realize that they were memories.  from godric’s life.  bits of the days he’d once lived out,  replaying over and over again each time he went to sleep.  sometimes they were nightmares.  sometimes he didn’t want it to stop.  and never could he freely talk about it.  ❛ dunno, ❜  he shrugged,  crooking his arm around her a bit to bring her in slightly closer.  ❛ weird shite.  what d’you dream of? ❜

His answer is long in coming and perhaps that can be attributed to the warm drowsiness that seems to cover both of them. She doesn’t really consider pushing him on the subject but a spark of curiosity still remains. Margaery lets him pull her in and rests her head on his shoulder, pressing cold feet between his calves in search of warmth. He was always so warm, something she rather liked in a partner--opposed to any amount of cold as she was.“Hmm...nonsense, mostly. I usually don’t remember much of them. Though, I do recall a dream in which I took my O.W.L.s in nothing but my knickers. Could probably attribute that one to test anxiety.”

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‘  i  made  coffee.  ’ / Garrett

A MEME | @mercyburned

Margaery could smell it from the moment she padded into the kitchen, the rich aroma surrounding her in a welcoming embrace. A still-sleepy smile touched her lips as she met his gaze before he turned it back to his coffee. She approached him and slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him in close and pressing against his back. “Mmm…smells nice,” she murmured, placing a kiss to his shoulder before moving around him and reaching for a mug of her own. “Thanks, love.”

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“That’s what they’re supposed to say.” / Garrett

LATE NIGHTS MEMES | @mercyburned

“What–just because they’re your family?” Margaery made a rather undignified noise in response, something akin to a snort. Her own family–particularly her mother and grandmother–had never shied from making their disappointment known for anything less than perfection. Olenna was openly harsh more oft than not, allowing Margaery to grow used to it. But Alerie’s quiet, indirect criticism was almost more difficult to bear. A look, a soft ‘tsk,’ a pursing of lips–it was almost worse than words alone. Yet for all of that, they gave out little enough praise. Perfection is the standard, not the exception. 

“They’re good and honest people, your family. If they say they’re proud of you, they really mean it. A rare thing, that.” She plopped down next to him on the couch and swung her legs across his lap. “For what it’s worth, I agree with them–posh standards and all.”