#charlie raine quill

[beebundt]

im busy with an art trade but wanted 2 share some recent scraps of charlie. i haven't posted abt her in years oh my god

#nudity cw #my art #art #illustration #drawing #artists on tumblr #digital art #my ocs #oc #ocs #original character #charlie #charlie raine quill #god i need to change her name. n update her in general . CRY

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (4/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!)

CHAPTER 4: A week before the highly-anticipated dinner, you discover something terrible. You are a hard, fact-based person; Charlie is your contrarian spur-of-the-moment partner. And he’s not shy to show you. (5.4k words)

CHAPTER 4: BOYS IN THE BLUE

The warm autumn day took a nosedive the moment you headed home. There was a light spray of rain in the gardens, and you had to march over soggy leaves to get to the front door. When you were back inside, it was even colder in the lifeless, expanse corridors and you involuntarily shuddered. It was chilly to the point that you assumed there must be Dementors floating about… oh, right, your brother and father were home.

As you ambled down the hall, you mapped out all the ways to victory. It was a play well-rehearsed and acted.

The Plan Step 1: Start argument with Lucius. Step 2: Press the issue, inciting anger in him. Step 3: Build up the anger by making valid points. Step 4: Watch his composure rupture. This is considered a victory. Just wait for his silent withdrawal because he’ll be too embarrassed to admit he’s lost. Optional Steps  Step 3.a. Utilise reverse psychology (e.g. “Uncle Theo is a classic example of money not buying class. I’m so glad we don’t engage in such gauche practices.”) Step 3.b. Create fantastical scenarios to help your father see the light. Step 3.c. Rally Narcissa on your side. Lucius never argues with Narcissa. 

As you passed your father’s study, you saw Lucius at his desk writing something on a long roll of parchment. He’d since changed from those ridiculously fancy dress robes to just a plain button-up shirt and let his hair down. The fireplace cackled menacingly beside him, orange flames puffing just like how he’d be within the next five minutes. 

You popped your head in. “I hope your business meeting went well,” you started. 

“Fortunately, it did, despite the crisis that I averted,” Lucius answered without so much as a glance up at you. 

“What crisis?” you asked sweetly.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, still writing. “You know very well what I’m talking about.” 

“You should recount the story for mother and Draco tonight,” you offered.

“There’s no need for it.”

“Right,” you affirmed. Again, you didn’t want this dinner to have to happen. This conversation was a means to call it off. “I reckon it was hard to take in. You should take your time and meet Charlie when you’re in a better temperament.”

“That’s not correct,” Lucius stated with a tsk. “I am always in a pleasant temperament.” He finally laid his quill down and looked at you. “And your mother and brother will be delighted to meet your… partner at dinner in a fortnight as planned.”

“So, all your talk about reputation and standards was for naught?” you pressed. The next plan of attack was a subset of step three: reverse psychology. “What happens when our neighbours see a Weasley at the door? Being invited in by a Malfoy? You’ll be the talk of the town.”

Lucius smiled menacingly. “I reckon I’ve been unfair,” he admitted slyly. “I should get to know the Weasley boy. Maybe he won’t be a disgrace like his parents.”

You grimaced internally. You should’ve known that Lucius was not going to make this easy.

“You’ve really had a change of heart, father,” you stated. “It’s not in our usual fashion, but maybe we should start associating with blood traitors more. 

“Nonsense”—he waved a hand—“I consider it charity work.”

“That’s complete rubbish, Charlie is not—”

Lucius raised a hand to stop you. “I have never implied that, but if that’s what you think of your boyfriend, then so be it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. If this was how he wanted to play it, then you were going to start writing to all his colleagues and business partners about your relationship and plaster your photos on every billboard. You were going to send an owl to everyone in the Ministry, including the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Hold on, speaking of Shacklebolt…

 “Then, you wouldn’t mind if we attended the Ministry Christmas party together this year, won’t you? We could be sat at the table with you and mother, and Draco. I reckon I should let you know now since the Minister’s office needs a guest list by the end of October.”

A moment of silence. Then, both the corner of your and Lucius’s mouth twitched at the same time but in different contexts. You, with happiness and him, with chagrin. 

“Well, that’s still some ways off,” he responded. “But I’m sure our Minister would be delighted to have the less fortunate seated so far up.”

“Then spare a seat for Charlie.”

“Of course,” Lucius said. “Consider it done. But let’s have dinner together first, shall we?”

“And remind me, (Y/N),” Lucius continued with a growing grin. “Charlie is the son with the dragons, correct?”

“Why do you care?”

“His father always tries to tell me about his children when I pass him by at the Ministry. Truthfully, I’m barely listening but I have caught onto this particular detail.”

The look in his eyes made you uneasy. Truthfully, you wished you didn’t have to answer him. There were consequences to telling the truth or lying. Looks like nothing had changed since you were younger. 

“He is.”

With that, you walked away.

The rest of the afternoon, you resided in the sunroom, watching the rain slam on the overhead glass. A cloud of perturbation hung over your head like the weather. Unsure of how to communicate your failure with Charlie, you chose to sit and ruminate. But after half an hour, you grabbed a quill, a piece of parchment, and a seal and began writing. 

Charlie, I couldn’t do it. You’ll have to clear your schedule for next next Saturday.  (Y/N) Malfoy

About half an hour later, your owl fluttered back to your window. 

(Y/N), Not saying I didn’t tell you so, but… I told you so. I won’t be here all week, but I’m back on Friday from Hogwarts. How about meeting me at the platform at eight p.m.? Charlie P.S. This is Romanian parchment. Go on, try to burn it. Spoiler: it doesn’t. 

Curious, you trotted over to the fireplace. You crumbled the parchment and threw it into the flames. You waited for the crinkling sounds, for the edges to crisp and blacken, and the ball to burst in flames, but to your amusement, the paper was as pristine as ever. It lay unaffected in the blue flames. 

With a smile, you wrote back: 

Charlie, That works for me. Have a good week. (Y/N) Malfoy

You held off communication with Charlie for the rest of the week, opting to fiddle with your quill at your cubicle at the Ministry. When no one was looking, you scribbled down details of what you’d say to your father—lines you’d feed to Charlie to regurgitate until they felt real. For some reason, Fred and George were eager to escort you to the station to meet Charlie on Friday. You chalked it up to them missing their brother. Fred invited you to wait for them after work so you could go together.

When the fated Friday arrived, you rushed out of your office to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. You sat in the homey flat upstairs while waiting for Fred and George to close shop. You spread out on the couch, legs on the armrest, reading the stories you’d weaved at your desk. 

You rehearsed in a low voice. “Charlie and I met at Christmas last year when he came back for a week. He invited me for coffee and the rest was history. December 27th, wasn’t it, darling? We had an instant connection and maintained our relationship through letters and chats through floo.”

You scribbled a line in and continued. “I was chuffed when he decided to take an extended vacation this year.”

Then you shut your eyes and pretended Lucius was asking you a question about your future.

“Well, we haven’t decided where we’ll settle, but at the moment, Romania is looking like the better option for both of us.”

“Is it?” Fred interjected. “Really?”

You scrambled up, feet hitting the ground. “You’re done already?” 

“Not a particularly busy week,” he said, sitting down next to you and peering over. “Let me have a read to review the accuracy of this love story.”

You pushed him away. “No.”

“It sounds kind of stiff and unrealistic if I’m being honest,” George added. “Is this a dinner or a job interview? And Charlie sounds more romantic than I’d ever know him.”

“I was just rehearsing,” you grumbled in defence. “It’s not meant to sound polished.”

Fred and George walking in on you penning a romance between you and their older brother was going to be something they’d never let you live down. You continued walking on and grabbed your topcoat that was hanging from the rack. You slipped it over your black sweater dress and announced: “Let’s get going.”

All mentions of your script were thankfully forgotten when the three of you landed in the chilly autumn air that engulfed King’s Cross Station. You strode the last hundred metres, quickly falling in sync with the twins. A tale as old as time, Fred situated himself to your left and George to your right. 

“I assumed Charlie was only to be at Hogwarts for two or three days a week from the way he was speaking,” you said. “But it seems he left Monday, is that right?”

“He mentioned some ‘contractual matters’ to clear with McGonagall. You know, given that he decided to take the job on such short notice. But McGonagall has been waiting for her favourite student to come back since he graduated, so she was more than fine with it,” George explained before a grin broke out on his face. “It’s interesting you seem to have such complex insights into Charlie’s life.”

“Complex insights?” you repeated. “He told me.”

“When? On your date or when you were having lunch with his mum?”

“Your mum, too, Georgie,” you reminded him.

“Not the way she was making it seem.”

To your left, Fred made a discontented noise. “I wish he hadn’t come back,” he grumbled.

“Why’s that?”

“Because while mum adores Bill, her fixation with Charlie is on another level,” Fred groaned. “And now that McGonagall gets to see him again, it’ll be even worse for his ego. That’s all she ever talked about, huh, Georgie? ‘That was a very strategic play, Fred, but your brother Charlie did it better.’ And then she’d launch into a story of the time Charlie enacted a critical play to win the game.”

“Which game?” George queried, stroking his chin. “I can only remember ten examples.”

“You sound jealous,” you teased, giving Fred a nudge.  

“You’re right,” Fred conceded. He shot you a quick wink. “I guess I’m jealous he gets to date you.”

Your sudden laugh vaporised in the cold air. “You flatter me, Fred Weasley. But we’re not dating, remember?”

Fred must’ve noticed the puff of air that left your lips, because he then suggested: “Let’s have a night out before the weather goes to total shit.”

“It is already total shit,” you reminded him as a snappy breeze blew past you. You held a gloved hand to his face. “The nice weather will be gone like your deepest freckles.”

Fred clicked his tongue. “(Y/N) Malfoy, eternally the”—he paused at looked at you—“shivering pessimist.”

He wasn’t wrong. You breathed a sigh of relief when you stepped into the warmth of King Cross’s station. You strode past the last wave of stragglers trying to catch the next train home. You looked around the concourse, ensuring there were no muggle eyes on you, before the three of you smoothly gilded into the wall and onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Nice to be here with nowhere to go, huh?” George asked when you reappeared.

You nodded. It wasn’t early September and there weren’t bustling crowds and extraneous noise—of frantic parents, crying children, and conductors. Now, there were barely five people on the platform: an old man reading a newspaper; a mother and her son; and two wizards in dress robes. 

A light wind began to pick up around the platform. You looked down at your watch. It was eight o’clock on the dot. The Hogwarts Express de-accelerated, screeching slightly against the metal tracks, before stopping in front of you. The windows were noticeably emptier and there couldn’t be more than a dozen people on this train. As people deboarded, you peeked around, looking for a mop of ginger curls.

As soon as you saw Charlie at the top step in the first compartment, you nudged George to go over. Charlie hadn’t seen you yet. He was raising a hand to the conductor. “Thanks, Stan.”

Stan tipped his hat. “See you next week, Charlie.”

Then, Charlie stepped off the train carrying a leather briefcase. He was dressed like how you first saw him, in the same slacks and jean jacket. His hair was mussed from the trip, but the dishevelled locks suited him. His blue eyes were cloudy with sleep, as they would be after a long journey.

“Hey Charlie,” George greeted. 

Fred patted your shoulder and said: “Got your girlfriend here in one piece.”

Charlie’s face lit up. “Thank you, Fred.”

You shook your head in annoyance at Fred. Truth be told, you didn’t like Fred’s casual use of the word ‘girlfriend.’ Hopefully, after next week, you’d never need to ask for Charlie’s services again.

Fred ushered George back to the wall. “We’ll be heading back now.”

George cocked his head. “Yeah, don’t be too long.”

When the twins had disappeared through the wall, so did their laughs.

You turned to Charlie. “There’s a coffee shop in the station we could sit at,” you offered. “You must be famished after your trip.”

“I’m tired,” Charlie said with a yawn. He stretched his arms behind his head and flawlessly, one of those arms swung over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. The scent of pine trees and cinder enveloped you immediately. He cocked his head downwards towards yours, eyes lighting in amusement. “Let’s chat at the pub instead.”

“The pub?” you repeated, blinking up at him. Unconsciously, you fell in step with Charlie, striding with his arm locked around you down the platform. “Didn’t you just say you were tired?”

“A beer will wake me up.”

“That is physiologically counterintuitive,” you stated. 

“I wasn’t built like a normal person.”

As the firm curve of his bicep grazed your face, you were inclined to agree. 

When you stepped outside of the station, the night had grown even darker. Stars peeked out from the blanket of black from up above. Charlie finally unlatched himself from you as you approached a tram stop. To be honest, you were annoyed that your shield of warmth was taken from you and that Charlie had left you to fend against the wind by yourself. 

“Where to, Miss Malfoy?” Charlie asked as you sat down on the moving tram.

You leaned back on the plush seat. “Might go to the White Wyvern for a classy night,” you jested.

“Great, I’ve been looking forward to splintering my fingers at the table,” Charlie hummed in agreement. “Or I’ll my hand stuck from the beer residue until Mace, the owner, has to saw it off. Might lose a kidney, who knows, but it’d be worth it.” 

“Have you been?” you asked. “It sounds like you have.”

Charlie chuckled. “That I can’t say. You can inquire about anything else though.” He swerved the conversation around. “Where does your dad go on a Friday night?”

“Valour.” 

Valour was an upscale bar where Lucius fancied having dinner with his business companions. You’d been just a handful of times, but it wasn’t your cup of tea. There was no one your age there.

Charlie let out a low whistle. “I’d have to sell my kidney for a night there. Let’s settle for something in the middle.”

“Alright then,” you said. “Let’s go to The Brew.” 

“I’ve never been there.”

“It opened last summer. You were probably in Romania.”

“Sounds reasonable. Lead the way.”

The Brew was only a block away from where the tram stopped. You guided Charlie up the cobbled road on Warwick Avenue, dangerously close to where you were last week when you were caught by Molly. You knew you’d arrived when you saw the exterior of the building: sleek and trendy with neon cursive lettering shining against the black brick. Inside, the crystal wine glasses perched on top of the bar shimmered in the dim light. The velvet chairs—maroon and pine—contrasted well against the glossy walls.

After the host took your coats, you looked for an open spot. 

“Let’s sit at the bar,” Charlie suggested. 

“Alright.”

You also appreciated Charlie’s confidence to find footing wherever he was. You thought yourself well-adjusted in that regard; you were good at settling with your family’s uppity friends. But Charlie was on a different level. 

He weaved through the crowds gracefully with two hands in his pockets. When he found two unoccupied barstools, he pulled one out for you. 

“After you.”

“Thank you.” You smoothed your dress and sat down. You swivelled around to place an order, but the bartender in front of you seemed occupied with something else. 

“No way,” she exclaimed, her hands halfway through drying a glass with a towel. “Charlie Weasley?”

“The one and only,” he responded. “And you are…” He squinted his eyes, appraising the tall bartender. She was dressed fully in black which you assumed was the unofficial uniform of the pub. Her curly hair rivalled the colour of her blouse. She had eyes as green as the lime garnishes at her workstation. Her ears were adorned by multiple piercings, and a small collection of tattoos dotted her toned arms. “Mallory.”

Her red lips curled into a smile. “You still remember me?”

“I couldn’t ever forget,” Charlie said. “Though it’s been almost, what, twelve years?”

Mallory nodded.

“Mallory and I were teammates on the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” Charlie explained, facing you. “Mallory, this is (Y/N).”

You quickly extended a hand. “(Y/N) Malfoy. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh—,” Mallory quickly corrected herself and shook your hand. “Mallory Mikaelson.” 

You smiled politely and withdrew. What a reputation your last name had around town. If only it was for the better, you thought.

Mallory’s eyes narrowed in concentration as she leaned over the counter to take a closer look at you. “I can’t seem to place you, love,” she said. “I suppose you were in a different house, or a different year?”

You didn’t want to admit you were six years younger than Charlie because of the way it might reflect on him, so you were vague with your answer: “Both.”

She hummed, then redirected the conversation back to Charlie. “Do you remember Marcus, my brother?”

“Of course,” Charlie said. “The best beater I’ve had the pleasure of playing with, besides you. Where is he now?”

“Department of International Transportation at the Ministry,” Mallory said. “We still play Quidditch at weekends at Felder's Field just north of here. We’d love to have our old teammate back for a game.”

“Name the date and time, I’ll be there,” Charlie affirmed.

“Hey Mal,” another bartender called from the back. “Abby called in for her shift at the front. Boss is asking you to cover for her tonight.”

“I’ll be right over,” Mallory said, her tone cool and professional. Then with a warm smile, she capped off her conversation with Charlie. “See you then, Charlie. Send me an owl.”

Charlie waved back. “See you.”

“What can I get for you two?” Mallory’s colleague asked after she’d gone out to the front.

“A pint of stout,” Charlie said. 

You were still preoccupied with the conversation that just occurred so the question didn’t even register in your brain. Who was Mallory? What kind of past did she have with Charlie?

“What about you, love?” the bartender pressed.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie leaned in, giving your arm a squeeze. “If you don’t answer, I’ll get you a stout, too.”

You quickly regained consciousness. “An aperol spritz, please. Thank you.”

“Is the idea of a stout really that terrible?��� Charlie joked.

“Yes,” you gasped out. “Awful.”

In a matter of minutes, your drinks arrived and you were finally left alone.

“It’s always nice to see a familiar face, isn’t it?” Charlie remarked. 

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a nod. You vowed to forego your curiosity; there were more pressing matters. “Speaking of familiar things, how was your first week at Hogwarts?”

“Really great. I’m just settling in and getting accustomed to my classroom and Hagrid’s curriculum.”

“Does he know the meaning of a curriculum? I’ve heard his classes weren’t very…. Well-structured.”

“Not at all,” Charlie affirmed. “It’s whatever he feels like teaching that day. I might have to work with him a little.”

You grinned. “I can imagine.”

Charlie nodded his head. “You’re imagining right.” After a sip of beer, he resumed his thoughts. “But we’re not here to talk about Hagrid. We’re here to talk about next week.”

“Right! So, I prepared something,” you said, reaching into your purse for the rolled parchment. You hooked it with your finger and fished it out. “I was hoping to go over some notes with you—”

“(Y/N),” Charlie interrupted. His hand, leading with his thumb, was making a backward motion. “I need you to start from the beginning. Unlike my brothers, I know zilch about you.”

You set the parchment back in your purse and tucked it away. “Well, what do you know about me?”

“I know that everyone is terrified of your father, your brother is a right tosser, and your mother is gorgeous.”

Without thinking, you slapped Charlie on the arm, causing him to sputter in his drink. “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

“If you’d let me finish my sentence,” Charlie protested after recovering. “I would’ve said, ‘that’s obviously who you got your looks from.’’”

Now, it was your turn to nearly sputter into your drink.

Charlie wagged a finger. “Careful, don’t spill that on yourself again.”

“I don’t reckon that was remotely my fault. You sat on me.”

Charlie was unfazed by your accusation and grinned instead. “Tell me more about your family.”

Quizzically, you continued, though you were unsure of how keen Charlie was on climbing your family tree. “My mother has two sisters, my aunts Bellatrix and Andromeda. I don’t have much to say there. My father has a brother and a sister. My uncle, Theodore Malfoy, and my aunt, Rosamund Malfoy. Thankfully for all of us, Uncle Theodore lives in France.”

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. “Why thankfully?”

You paused. You never had anyone show so much concentrated interest in your family. Even Fred and George didn’t care much past the surface, past taunts against Lucius or Draco. You explained to Charlie what happened in France this summer, how he’d made a grand show of displaying his new properties and putting your family down.  

“He’s perhaps the most terrible person I’ve met,” you huffed. “He’s worse than my father. You can’t talk about anything good without him doing you one better. And his spawn follows his mannerisms exactly.”

“Who are the spawn?”

“Genevieve. She’s my oldest cousin. She just got married this summer in Nice. She’s the worst. It was a cursed occasion because my mother came home with some nuptial fever. Her brother Claude is similarly terrible but he just talks less and conceals it better.” You gauged Charlie’s facial expression and could tell he was still engrossed. “I have two younger cousins, Charlotte and Clara. They’re pleasant, though I can’t tell the difference between them on a good day. They look very much alike despite being two years apart.”

“That leaves you,” Charlie remarked with a wide grin. “My favourite Malfoy.” 

You laughed. “I’m the only Malfoy you know.”

“I’ve heard of your brother,” Charlie said. “From what I’ve gathered, I prefer you.”

“I haven’t scared you off?”

“Not yet.”

His face read ‘try me’ to which you smiled at. 

Then, silence fell upon you. It was to be expected, a natural stall in the conversation. You took a prolonged sip of your cocktail to ease the awkwardness. As the bitters melted on your tongue, you searched for other things to talk about, but Charlie beat you to it.   

“(Y/N),” Charlie’s deep voice called out to you. 

You put your drink down on the table. “Yes?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Alright.”

Charlie shifted his stool over to yours. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body. This time, instead of remaining where he was, he latched a hand on your kneecap. Every callus embedded on his fingers were noticeable on the groove of your knee, despite a layer of sheer tights separating his skin and yours. His grip didn’t hurt, but he was firm.

“What are you doing?” you panicked. Your tone came out more accusatory than you’d liked.

“Practising?” Charlie said quizzically. “Will it even be the least bit convincing if my touch repulses you?”

“I’m not repulsed!” you retorted. “It was just unexpected.”

Unexpected, as in you hadn't had a man touch you in months, maybe two years if you wanted the statement to be accurate. And at some point, you had stopped counting because the thought made you all the more miserable.

“That’s why I have a question,” he explained. “How much am I allowed to touch you at this… dinner?”

Your brain short-circuited for a minute. It was very hard to form any thoughts with Charlie’s sharp blue eyes tangled with yours, waiting for an answer like his life depended on it. The lopsided curve of his lip tempted a sacrilegious answer, one that you had too much modesty top provide. And now, things were harder with his large hand engulfing your kneecap. You were a deer in the headlights; he was the coyote catching his prey. 

“This is fine.” This would convince your parents. Merlin, even you were convinced.

“Alright.”

You looked down. Your skin burned beneath his touch, and you had to wonder why you felt this way, why you were suddenly so flushed and withdrawn. Surely, if Fred pulled this act, you’d touch—or rather, slap—him back in retaliation.

Charlie’s thumb began to rub circles above your knee as he asked: “What about this?”

You stifled a sound. You were ticklish but you also couldn’t deny that that wasn’t the only sensation you were feeling. You couldn’t pinpoint it but you knew his touch wasn't at all unwanted.

“Don’t you think that’s too much?” you murmured. “All we need is a solid story, and I reckon we should be able to get away with it.”

“Nothing is too much if the goal is to convince your parents you like me, emotionally and physically,” Charlie commented with a laugh. “That’s the equation of love. Got it?”

You nodded slowly. Sure, you understood arithmetic, but this was a devilishly dangerous line he was toeing around. 

He scooted even closer to you, his barstool squeaking against the floor, to be able to lift his hand from your knee to find your waist instead. His palm found its way to the dead centre, gravitating towards the most delicate part of you. 

“Still okay?” he asked with an upward tilt of his head. You were entranced by how sharp his jaw cut under at this angle.  

You nodded slowly, lips parting slightly as a result. He was so close that you could smell the alcohol on his lips. You hoped the dim lighting obfuscated your reddening face.

“Good job,” he praised with a smirk. “You’re doing great, (Y/N).”

Your head spun as if the prosecco in the aperol spritz had concentrated and exploded in your bloodstream all at once. Charlie’s voice started sounding further and further away, even though you were intently watching him inch closer. The room behind him blurred like a camera finding a focus on its subject. Charlie was your subject, his every freckle and crease near his gleaming eyes clear as day.

“Do you do this… often?”

You could barely hear your own voice.

“Sh, I’m the one asking questions. Keep focussed on the conversation we’re having.” 

Focus? You wanted to ask Charlie if a dragon had clawed off his frontal lobe, leaving him helpless to his impulses. A prime example: this scene he was making.

“Now,” he continued, squeezing your waist. “What is your limit?”

“My—” you stammered, unable to gauge the meaning of his two-toned words. “My limit? As in alcohol?”

A barking laugh shattered your daze and brought you back to the present. Charlie’s voice was now glassy clear and his tone melodic. “(Y/N), let’s reroute back to the question of how much I can touch you.”

“Erm, this is okay,” you eked out through shallow breaths. Had Charlie shrunk your lungs? Was there such a spell? “I don’t imagine anyone would want to see any more.”

His eyes darkened. Your heart stopped. “What if I kissed you?” he asked.

Well, your heart was certifiably alive again because it had just catapulted against your chest, almost throwing you forward.

‘Now? Or next week?’ You wanted to scream. At this point, it was hard to tell and if he didn’t stop talking, you were really going to die. Might as well have the bartenders dig a hole in the ground right here and bury you with a tombstone carved with the words ‘Cause of Death: Charlie Weasley.’

“Let’s hope the situation’s not dire enough to have to come to that,” you said. On the contrary, your eyes were drinking in those smirky lips like they were the finest and richest wine in the world and wondering if rehearsals should be in order.

“But if it did?”

You pursed your lips which Charlie noticed, his eyes falling downwards, long lashes casting shadows over his face. You had to approach this logically and weigh the benefits and risks. If you had to kiss Charlie for a millisecond, it could mean a lifetime of your parents off your back. And a seriously tumultuous friendship with Fred and George if they found out.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“It would be fine,” you whispered with minimal conviction. “But only as a last resort.”

A rush of blood pounded your head when he was a mere three inches from your face. You gulped when you saw yourself reflected in his eyes. One wrong move and your nose would brush up against his freckled one.

“Of course,” he stated, looking offended. “You’d think I’d just waltz in next weekend and we’d start snogging in the foyer? You must think better of me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—’

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Charlie teased, scooting back and letting his legs stretch out. Your eyes were glued to his hands and arms that were crossed in front of his chest. A cocky grin graced his chiselled face. “But this is great. I’ve got enough for next week.”

“Shouldn’t we discuss more about what we’re going to do?” you protested. Your voice was desperate and frantic. “We have to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“No, I really do have all that I need.”

“I wrote some things down, some critical points we should hit,” you pleaded, trying to find the parchment in your purse. When you unfurled it, Charlie was quick to snatch it out of your hands. He crushed it between his palms. When he opened his hand up again, the parchment was nothing more than cinder that disintegrated before it could hit the floor. 

You were absolutely and undeniably sober after that action. Any thoughts of giving into a kiss dissipated immediately (and you weren’t sure why you were flirting with that idea in the first place). Your blood alcohol level: negative. Your chances of being betrothed to Goyle: positive.

“Charlie!” 

“(Y/N)!” he imitated in a loud, whiny drawl that attracted the attention of the man beside him. You flushed; you did not sound like that. “Let’s get another round to soothe those nerves of yours.”

His grin grew wider as he flagged down the bartender. A blonde woman immediately swivelled towards him. He pointed to your drinks. You shut your eyes in defeat, resisting the urge to slam your head on the table.

 His laissez-faire attitude was going to be the death of you.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine

[blythelyunaware]

On the "terrible lyrics" discourse...

It's always interesting to me when, right before an album rollout, we have a subsect of swifties and/or simply bad-faith haters who immediately pan a new album by plucking out lyrics out of context. It seems that the curse of folkevermore will forever loom over any new album rollout because most people aren't...that bright? Folkevermore is brilliant for many reasons, not least of all because it was perfectly timed to fit the tone of the socio-cultural time it was released in. People ate it up because a). those albums were pandemic albums and b). they were written mostly in the "quill pen" style. For some reason, and perhaps this is due to a lack of wider reading, people associate "good lyrics" with flowery prose that is reliant heavily on lots of figurative language and "bad lyrics" as simple statements. And so anything that has been released post-folkevermore has been panned as a "step down" because people think Taylor Swift is only worth listening to when she releases music that people perceive, through stereotypes or general insufferableness, as artsier and therefore of more value.

I don't know if it's just a universally bad education system or maybe we don't read contemporary literature enough, but that's just not true. I love folklore so very much, and its most Keats-style 19th-century poet song, "The Lakes," is perhaps one of its weakest because it's trying too hard and some of it, frankly, makes no sense ("Tell me what are my Wordsworth" ???? Like we know that clunky-ass lyric was only put in there for a dumb ass poet reference). And then we have The Last Great American Dynasty, which contains fairly simple/ slightly kooky statements such as: "And in a feud with her neighbour, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green." Which is way better at characterising the person in that story!!!

It was the same with the "sexy baby" lyric in Anti-Hero (IMO a very interesting lyric!). It's not about how many metaphors she can pack in or the number of stars or 2 AM dancing-in-the-rain or running-down-a-field-to-her-prince, or other fairytale motifs that makes her songs so good. It's her ability to tie a concept together or create a thread of shared ideas within an album. People are clowning on the whole "Charlie Puth being a bigger artist" because Charlie Puth isn't typically considered "high brow" and has released some pretty cringey stuff. But if you look deeper into the reason for why she included that in her song: it fits into the album conceit. The album visuals are very much dark academia, college prep, intellectuals etc. etc. This lyric is not so much about Charlie Puth as it is about her relationship dynamic with the person she is singing about. It's about how they had shared intellectual values around music. And that is the genius of Taylor Swift. She does not need to point a gigantic neon sign at a lyric saying "LOOK! LOOK! THIS IS A METAPHOR AND I AM VERY CLEVER AND YOU CAN FEEL CLEVER FOR GETTING IT!".

To end it all I would urge swifties to please read more and read widely. (I also realise just how pretentious and obnoxious I sound but hey, if we're gonna play into the aesthetic, why not?)

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #swifties #the eras tour #ttpd #matty healy #joe alwyn #personal rant #mini rant #sorry for the rant #folklore #evermore #taylor swift eras

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 2 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

From Out of the Rain

Synopsis

When an old cinema re-opens, past horrors emerge to stalk the streets of Cardiff. As bodies are found with heartbeats but no breath, Torchwood must act fast. Who are the Night Travellers? How can Torchwood capture these mysterious breath takers?

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

Detained

Synopsis

A mysterious asteroid throws Charlie, April, Ram, Matteusz and Tanya outside of space and time and Miss Quill is nowhere to be found.

They now have to confess their deepest and darkest secrets to each other without losing their minds. Can they stick together to fight the Prisoner or will their confessions split them apart?

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

#as the worlds only class fan #please #round 2 #i need to rewatch class #its been a while

[sparkliest-bard-bracket]

Round 1 ✨Winners and Losers✨!

Everyone, please give a fond farewell to these most excellent of bards, who have been most valiantly defeated in this round:

Jareth the Goblin King (Labyrinth)

Gurney Halleck (Dune)

The Bard/Kiwi (Wandersong)

Callie Cuttlefish (Splatoon)

Apollo/Lester Papadopoulos (The Trials of Apollo)

Bill Cypher (Gravity Falls)

Max Rebo (Star Wars)

Will Scarlet (Robin Hood)

Link (The Legend of Zelda)

Katalina (Tabletop Time)

Orpheus (Greek Mythology)

Dave BruBot/The Major Player (Toontown: Corporate Clash)

Elan (Order of the Stick)

Edward Chris von Muir (Final Fantasy IV)

Christian (Moulin Rouge)

The Bard (Shovel Knight)

Man with the Harmonica (Once Upon a Time in the West)

Diedrich Knickerbocker (Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story)

Bard the Bowman (The Hobbit)

Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer)

The Muses (Disney Hercules)

Robinton (Pern)

Cicero (Skyrim)

Michael Jackson (Real Life)

The Onceler (The Lorax)

Gamzee Makara (Homestuck)

William Shakespeare (Something Rotten)

William Shamspeare (Ace Attorney)

Brook (One Piece)

Sea Hawk (She-Ra and the Princess of Power)

Frank Sinatra (Real Life)

Lias "Cliff" Bluestone (Discworld)

Essi Daven (The Witcher)

Stefen (The Heralds of Valdemar)

Roman Sanders (Sanders Sides)

Bard (Crypt of the Necrodancer)

Steven Universe (Steven Universe)

Nydas Okiro (Critical Role)

Charlie Pace (Lost)

Kitagra (Kings of the Wyld)

Father Gabriel (The Mission)

Haer'Dalis (Baldur's Gate)

Sylvando (Dragon Quest 11)

Gieve (The Heroic Legend of Arslan)

Kubo (Kubo and the Two Strings)

Guiliastes/Gui (1/2 Prince)

Asmodean (Wheel of Time)

The Pied Piper (The Pied Piper of Hamelin)

Venti (Genshin Impact)

Franz Liszt (Classicaloid)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

Hoid/Wit (Cosmere)

Noise (Roleslaying with Roman)

Rickety Stitch (Rickety Stitch and the Gelatinous Goo)

Thancred Waters (Final Fantasy XIV)

Raine Whispers (The Owl House)

Éile (The Witcher: Blood Origin)

Alastair Nobledrifter (Saving Throw - DnD Podcast)

Bill & Ted (Bill & Ted)

Imp Y Celyn (Discworld)

Bard Otter (The Last Dragonlord)

Maria von Trapp (The Sound of Music)

Demyx (Kingdom Hearts)

BMO (Adventure Time)

And give a round of applause and a pat on the back to those bards who will go on to the next round!:

David Bowie (Real Life)

Thom Merrilin (Wheel of Time)

Daeron (The Silmarillion)

Finrod (The Silmarillion)

Apollo (Greek Mythology)

Chong (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Edgin Darvis (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves)

Dimentio (Super Paper Mario)

Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem (The Muppets)

Starling Birdsong (Realm of the Elderlings)

"Weird Al” Yankovic (Real Life)

Carrie Wilson (Julie and the Phantoms)

Kvothe (The Kingkiller Chronicle)

Raz'ul, Son of Daz'ul (BomBARDed)

Binary Bard (Poptropica)

Fflewddur Fflam (The Chronicles of Prydain)

Kyoami/The Fool (Ran/King Lear)

Hannah Montana (Hannah Montana)

Leliana (Dragon Age)

Sprig Plantar (Amphibia)

Neil Banging Out the Tunes (Tumblr)

Thistle/Sissel (Delicious in Dungeon)

Loquatius Seelie (Critical Role)

Oli/TheOrionSound (Empires SMP)

Megamind (Megamind)

Mettaton (Undertale)

William Shakespeare (Real Life)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Classicaloid)

Marceline the Vampire Queen (Adventure Time)

Gerard Way (Real Life)

Snufkin (Moomin)

Rick Astley (Real Life)

Alan-a-Dale (Robin Hood)

Lúthien Tinúviel (The Silmarillion)

Remus Sanders (Sanders Sides)

Kass (Legend of Zelda/Breath of the Wild)

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies)

Miss Piggy (The Muppets)

Dob the Half-Orc Bard (Oxventure)

Kaylie Shorthalt (Critical Role)

Gabrielle the Battling Bard (Xena: The Warrior Princess)

Tsukasa Tenma (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage!)

Tom Bombadil (The Lord of the Rings)

Steve McKenzie/Jester (Galavant)

Jaskier/Dandelion (The Witcher)

Rocky (Lackadaisy)

Neil Cicierega/Lemon Demon (Real Life)

Kermit the Bard (Tales of Tinkerdee)

Sir Robin's Minstrels (Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming)

Puss in Boots (Shrek)

Freddie Mercury (Real Life)

The Amazing Devil (Real Life)

Klavier Gavin (Ace Attorney)

Ron Stampler (Dungeons & Daddies)

Jack Black (Real Life)

Scanlan Shorthalt (Critical Role)

Hap Gladheart (Realm of the Elderlings)

Maglor (The Silmarillion)

DJ Cadence (Club Penguin)

Yara of Nowhere, the Wandering Bard (A Practical Guide to Evil)

Dorian Storm (Critical Role)

Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan (Tales of Arcadia: Wizards)

Bilbo Baggins (The Hobbit)

#announcements #not a poll #sparkliest bard bracket #end of round celebration

[bonniebird]

Jacob x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested by anon​

Masterpost

Support me on Ko-fi

Make a request

Jacob didn’t look pleased as he hopped down out of Billy’s truck and slammed the driver's side door. You looked at him rather sheepishly and shivered a little as the rain ran under your coat, the bike helmet he’d given you dented and in one hand. 

“I told you not to waste your money on this! Specifically this one.” Jacob complained as he walked over to you. 

“I thought you were over exaggerating.” You complained as Jacob bent down to look at your scuffed leg. The denim of your jeans had been ripped open and he could see a cut through the hole.

“Does this look like I was over exaggerating? Will you please go and get in the car?” Jacob pointed to the truck and waited until he was sure you’d gotten in. He carefully picked up the bits of your bike and put them into the bed of the truck until he had all the pieces and got in the driver's seat. He reached over and turned the heat up. “Do you need to go to the hospital? Your helmet is pretty banged up.”

“I don’t think so?” You said. He gave you a dubious look but took you anyway. You were sent home with a bandage on your leg and a few to change each day as well as some painkillers. The doctor also told Jacob to keep an eye on you as you had a very mild concussion. Jacob sent you inside and found some old clothes of yours at the back of his wardrobe. They were on the smaller side but you were glad to have something dry. 

“How’re you feeling?” Billy asked as you left Jacob’s room. He handed you a warm drink and you spotted your coat hanging on a chair to dry next to the wood burner on one side of the living room.

“Better.” You said quietly as you appreciatively took the drink and sipped at it.

“Good. Jacob said what happened. He’s gone with Embry and Quill to get your money back. Should never have sold you that bike in the first place.” Billy sounded rather disapproving as he shook his head. The two of you chatted for a while and were interrupted by Jacob, Quill and Embry and shortly after Charlie Swan came in. Billy gestured for the boys to dry off and get a warm drink.

“Charlie, what can I help you with?” Billy asked as Charlie sat on a chair between the two of you.

“Well, I was called out about the commotion Jacob was causing. Turns out we’ve had a lot of vehicles that were stolen over the last year and according to my partner, a lot of the parts were found where you bought your bike. We’d need the information they gave you when you bought it and what happened with the bike.” Charlie explained. Billy sat with you and told Charlie everything he knew about the bike as he’d gone with you and Jacob to see it in the first place. You explained about going back on your own when your car finally stopped and the bike was much cheaper than getting it fixed. Then you explained about some of the parts coming off the bike causing you to swerve into the wrong side of the road and crash into a tree. Luckily it wasn’t too far from a payphone so you managed to call Jacob.

Once Charlie had everything he needed he nodded curtly, patted Billy affectionately on the shoulder and promised to be down to see him again soon, then left. 

You thanked Billy for the drink and went to find Jacob. He was out in his garage. He looked rather frustrated.

“Thanks for going over for me.” You mumbled. He was obviously in a bad mood by the way he slammed down the tool he was holding and rummaged roughly through a toolbox.

“Didn’t do any good. They wouldn’t give it back. Charlie said you probably won't be able to get the money back.” He grumbled and frowned down at the toolbox.

“That’s ok. It didn’t cost much and I bet you’d be able to put it together safely.” You smiled as Jacob looked over at you and shook his head.

“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren't going to work this time!” Jacob insisted as you gave him your best pleading look. “Even if I wanted to. This thing is all cracked and broken. No one could fix this. But I could have a look at your car and see if I could fix anything. Maybe we can get the garage to lower the price of fixing it. If you think I’m letting you drive anything with less than four wheels and a roof you’re nuts.” Jacob smiled when you laughed and shook your head.

“I won't buy any more sketchy bikes from sketchy bike… sellers.” You promised and he nodded.

“I coil probably give you a ride to work a couple of days a week until you get some wheels.” Jacob muttered as you leaned against him. Your helmet sat on one side of the garage and you winced when you saw how badly dented it was. No wonder he’d been worried. You thought to yourself as he hugged you.

Jacob tags:

@linkpk88 @babypink224221 @lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @lovesanimals0000 @sairamccall11

@theletterhart @bluebear142077 @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @multi-fandom5 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @kaylantus @ssa--holmes

@supernatural-wolfie @devilslilbabysblog @why-am-I-here-01 @babygrinchsblog @alwaysadreamingoptimist @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @gillybear17 @lchufflepuffcorn @fatherfigured @kaitieskidmore1 @123cxcv @slxthxrxn-sxmp @jamie-c-bower-simp

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #twilight saga #bonniebird

[basiloaks]

rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, no skipping!

Tagged by @edandstede - thanks, Quill! 💛

Let's Stay Together - Al Green

Rhythm of the Rain - The Cascades

Biggest Part of Me - Ambrosia

The Longest Time - Billy Joel 

Right Back Where We Started From - Maxine Nightingale

I Didn’t Mean to Love You - Helen Reddy

Puttin’ on the Ritz - Ella Fitzgerald

With This Ring - The Platters

The Girl from Impanema - Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto

Key Largo - Bertie Higgins 

Tagging @imashoutyghost and @charlie--lover! 

#if this isnt a sign to finish cleaning up my playlists i dont know what is 😅 #basil posts

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 22/2021) - Pursuit of Peace

Quackity goes searching for new recruits to join him in Las Nevadas.

Foolish wonders if his way of life is really working towards peace, or if he needs a change.

Ranboo builds up the stronghold room for his Enderwalk experiments.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Quackity

Foolish

Ranboo

---

---

LAS NEVADAS: EPISODE THREE

---

Quackity rides a white horse and overlooks the construction site where the plans for Las Nevadas have been laid out. There is a montage that shows Quackity in New L’manburg, then hunting down Techno in the Final Control Room. 

Techno strikes him down and Quackity wakes up at Spawn with a bloody scar over one eye.

There is a rapid timelapse showing the buildings of Las Nevadas getting built one by one. Slot machine sound effects play in the background, then Quackity’s voice:

“Let’s start this hit list. Who’s on the hit list? Dream and Technoblade. If we go after Dream first, we’ll have government, and then Techno will go after us. So let’s just -- let’s just attack the problem from the goddamn root.”

Another rapid-cut montage of Quackity walking down the path to the prison, then a full view of Pandora’s Vault...

---

- Quackity is in the cell with Dream, telling him he’ll show him which weapon he’ll use to torture him this time. He puts an axe up on the wall. While Quackity is talking, Dream suddenly runs up to try and take the axe. Quackity hits him back and grabs it

- Dream cowers in the corner of the cell, pleading, while Quackity shouts at him

Quackity: “You do that again, and it’s over for you. Don’t fucking ever do that again. You understand?”

Dream: “Yes.”

Quackity: “Don’t ever reach for any of my fucking weapons ever again. Okay?”

Dream: “Yes, sir.”

- Quackity says these visits have gotten tiresome, and he’s busy. The Netherite barrier wall is put up between them and the lava. Dream tells him he doesn’t have to visit anymore.

Quackity: “No, I do, I do. This is what you don’t understand, Dream. This is what you don’t understand, okay? I do, I do have to come, every single day, so I can remind you, every bad shit you’ve ever done to me, to any other person on the server -- I have to come every day to remind you, otherwise I think you’ll end up forgetting, and I don’t think I want you to forget.”

Dream: “Forget -- I won’t forget -- I promise you I won’t forget!”

- Quackity asks him when was the last time he saw Technoblade. Dream says it was a little bit before he was put in the prison.

- Quackity asks what their relationship is like, and Dream describes Techno as one of his only allies. Quackity throws Dream a book and quill and tells him to get writing: a note to Technoblade to get him to visit the prison

- If he writes the note and doesn’t ask any questions, then he’ll give Dream a week’s break from the torture. Dream thinks he’s lying and refuses to write the note

- Dream suggests Sapnap instead and Quackity snaps. 

Quackity: “If you don’t do that shit, then we’re gonna have issues, alright? You know what? I’m kinda sick and tired of these fucking visits now that I think about it. I’m actually sick and tired! I don’t like ‘em anymore! They’re boring, they really don’t serve any much more purpose, I don’t like ‘em anymore Dream. So this is what we’re gonna do. You either write that goddamn note, or I will kill you. I am not joking, I will fucking kill you, I don’t care anymore, I don’t --”

“What is it, the book? Are you threatening me with the fucking revival book, Dream? Guess what, Dream? I don’t CARE anymore about the book! I don’t give a crap about the fucking book anymore! You understand me? I don’t give a shit! I’ve lost interest in that thing! At this point, the only reason I come and torture you so much, every single day, is merely as a reminder, because at the end of the day, no matter how many times I fucking torture you, that will never amount the amount of fucking evil you’ve done to this entire server and everyone in it--”

Dream: “It’s -- it’s ‘cause you LIKE IT! You LIKE torturing me!”

Quackity: “You know what? You know what? I might, I might. I don’t give a shit, I don’t care what it is, what the reason is, if you don’t write that goddamn note -- I’m going to kill you, Dream. I am going to kill you.”

- Dream says Sam wouldn’t let Quackity kill him, but Quackity points out that Sam is beyond the lava wall, and he can deal with Sam later if need be. Dream shouts that he wouldn’t.

- Quackity starts swinging the axe around, then starts stabbing Dream while Dream begs for him to stop. Dream agrees to write it. 

Quackity tells him what to write: 

“Dear Technoblade...”

-

Chapter One.

-

There’s a village at night. It’s raining. 

Easy job.

Foolish is there.

No innocents.

Big reward.

Easy money.

He draws his bow.

Peaceful heist.

He shoots the arrow into the village.

The village is ablaze and full of lava, people are screaming. Foolish rides off on a horse.

-

THE PURSUIT OF PEACE

-

- A bell rings. It’s Las Nevadas, and Quackity coughs, eating, while Sam comes through the door and sits down in front of him. Quackity asks where Sam found the villager running the restaurant. Sam says he just showed up, and Quackity scolds him for hiring someone random

- Quackity hands him a book with potential roles for candidates, people to join Las Nevadas. Sam says he thought he was going to hire George, Sapnap and Karl. They both pause before Sam says he was kidding

- Quackity asks Sam to tell him about Foolish. Sam has read that Foolish isn’t a good person. Quackity scoffs, but Sam says the two of them haven’t done anything inherently bad, and everything they do is just for justice

Quackity: (laughing) “Yeah, ‘justice.’”

- Foolish used to kill a lot of people. A job gone wrong written about in old history texts. Quackity still thinks he’d be a great option. 

- In the future, who’s going to protect them? Sam knows what happened with Quackity and Techno, and they need some force in their team. Sam is still skeptical

---

- Quackity greets Foolish at the summer home entrance, asking how he’s holding up after the Banquet, the places he’s affiliated with

- Foolish is done with contract work for Kinoko Kingdom. Quackity asks him if he’d like to join Las Nevadas. Foolish is honored, but he’s happy at his summer home. As Quackity presses him on it, Foolish keeps insisting

Quackity: “I know who you are, if that makes a little more sense...I’ve done my research, Foolish, I have my connections. I know what type of person you are, if you get what I mean...”

- Foolish tells him this peaceful life has worked

Foolish: “I believed peace could be found through the sword, you know? Fighting. That doesn’t work, okay. That just leads to fear, to power, to hatred, resentment, all of that, okay, it’s a mess. The only thing I did was accelerate war, okay? That doesn’t work. So I pushed back, I ran from it all, and this is good! I’m in a much happier place!”

- Quackity then says he wants to buy Foolish’s summer home from him...for one diamond. Foolish is taken aback as Quackity explains that for all the work Foolish has put into this, it’s just a build. 

No one stays here, they just admire and leave it. It is an empty shell that’s beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, it’s decaying, something that will disappear in time with no one to remember it...much like Foolish himself.

Quackity: “On the inside, everybody knows you’re...just a builder. And I was hoping, at some point, you would realize this...after I let you die at the Red Banquet.”

- Foolish is shocked. Quackity was behind those walls and he could have saved Foolish, but instead he watched him die. Foolish draws his trident, and Quackity asks if he would really take a life

Quackity: “I did it for you. I let you die because I wanted a better version of you.”

- He wanted Foolish to realize that this life as a builder would get him hurt, and he needs to go back to his old ways: feared, not a nobody

Foolish: “You threw away my life for some kind of fucking sales pitch!”

“Power...power...damn you, Qua -- what makes you think you’re any better, huh?! How’s that worked out for anyone else that’s been here? Dream? Wilbur? Schlatt? How’d that go, huh? What makes you any better, different, than them?”

- Quackity doesn’t need a sales pitch, his country is already big and other people would take the offer. 

The reason he came to Foolish is because Quackity sees himself in Foolish: someone who once saw peace and betterment of people as the way to live. It brought him nothing but suffering, and Foolish has potential

The offer still stands.

-

Chapter Two.

-

An old-fashioned documentary plays about: the Slime! 

Slimes are morphing elements that can morph into just about anything, even blocks. Is Dwane “The Rock” Johnson slime?

---

- Quackity glides down onto the roof of the restaurant in a ninja outfit and elytra, setting up redstone and TNT in the floor. There’s a bit of slime on the wall and he’s disgusted, running out. This is why he wants to kill the owner of this place

- He mines into the wall only for Charlie Slimecicle to pop out. Quackity knocks him out 

- When Charlie wakes up, he’s stuck in a hole and Quackity is interrogating him, asking who he is. Charlie says he is a definitely “goobless guy” who has many bones.

Charle: “Dap me up!”

- As Charlie describes what happened, it becomes clear that Charlie has overheard all sorts of passing conversations and knows a lot. He knows too much, and Quackity has to kill him

- Quackity asks what else he knows. Charlie gets distracted by the snow, which Quackity teaches him is called “coke”

- Charlie saw Foolish, the purple guy, he knows of a green guy, a red-shirt blond guy, a dead-but-not-anymore-guy. Quackity asks about the dead guy, who Charlie describes as “sooty”

- Quackity realizes that Charlie is an accidental spy and tells Charlie this is just a friendly greeting, he can give Charlie a home. He coughs again and tells Charlie that a spy is a friend, and Charlie will be his spy as the two walk off together

-

Chapter Three.

-

---

ONE WEEK BEFORE THE RED BANQUET

---

A purple-tinged POV of a person walking down the path through the Community House as Quackity and Sam talk in the background.

It’s been so long, he might be dead in the woods somewhere, but Quackity insists that Purpled is perfect for their country. Sam doesn’t think he would ever join, doesn’t think he would ever affiliate with anyone.

What about a job? 

The UFO is destroyed.

If Quackity offers him a one-time job, Purpled would take it. Once he has Purpled’s attention, Quackity can do something to reel him in to join the country.

Rowing to the skull base...

Sam says Purpled’s UFO is still there, but abandoned. He moved out along time ago. Quackity has a plan...

---

- Quackity and Sam are talking by Eret’s Museum. Sam is in charge of keeping an eye out for Purpled. Sam protests -- he’s the Warden and Quackity is breaking and entering, and he’s not supposed to break the law. 

- Quackity has a stack of TNT. He climbs up the UFO and starts placing TNT everywhere inside

- Purpled logs on right in front of him and immediately starts attacking, but stops when Quackity threatens to light the TNT, explaining that this was the best way to get in contact with him

- Quackity tells him about how messed up the server is, that the Egg is still an issue, and he needs Purpled’s help. 

- Purpled is in the middle of a mercenary job already, but Quackity will pay Purpled well. He has a new project getting him wealth, a prosperous country. To prove it, Quackity takes him there...

---

The Red Banquet happens. A fight breaks out, and they get the Eggpire to retreat.

---

- Quackity stands on top of the flower shop. He meets Purpled, dressed in his suit, and thanks him for his help with the Egg

- Purpled stops him to ask for his money. Quackity takes him up to the roof and shows him to a chest with the money in it. Purpled approves

- Quackity has something else for Purpled: he goes downstairs and flicks a lever, and Purpled’s UFO explodes

Quackity: “Purpled, your legacy is gone, and I’ve taken it from you. That’s the last piece of evidence that you were ever here, Purpled. That’s it. And you die a long with it. You die along with it -- YOU DIE ALONG WITH IT, PURPLED!”

- Purpled runs at Quackity, attacking him. Quackity stops him, saying he did it for him. Purpled has two choices: he can take Quackity’s life and run away with the money, and he disappears forever. Or, he could join Quackity.

- Quackity tells Purpled he has potential, why waste it away? If Purpled joins him, he can buy a whole fleet of UFOs to replace the one

- Quackity promises Purpled a plot of land in Las Nevadas

Quackity: “Take the gamble, Purpled...take the gamble, and you can change everything.”

- Silently, Purpled turns and walks away

-

Chapter Four.

-

- Fundy walks to his new house in the forest and goes to sleep. When he wakes up, he opens the door to find it’s a mesa biome. He’s upset and goes back inside, reassuring himself. When he opens the door again, he’s met with Quackity standing there

- Quackity invites him to a walk, saying Fundy was a hard person to find, but he found him

- Fundy asks what this place is, but Quackity says he should know it better than anyone. As they approach, the mesa is populated by bits and pieces of L’manburg. The wooden stilts of New L’manburg, fragments of the black walls, the Camarvan. Quackity reminisces with him

- Fundy isn’t sure that the drug equipment is necessarily “good memories,” but Quackity tells him no, everything is good memories

- As Quackity leads him towards an oversized, deteriorated version of Eret’s tower, he reminds Fundy of how L’manburg was blown up

- Quackity steps into the shadows

Quackity: “You know what, Fundy? Those memories don’t matter. None of that matters, Fundy. All these structures, all these things we built together...it’s here now, but it’s really gone, and none of it matters, nor will it ever matter...Fundy, if you think about it...you don’t matter. Along with all these structures and everything in ‘em, you’re gonna fade away just like it.”

- If Fundy doesn’t change things, he won’t matter, but Quackity has plans and he doesn’t have to fade away if he just joins Quackity

- Quackity gives him ten seconds to decide. He starts counting down...

- Fundy runs towards him into the darkness as Quackity reaches one and he wakes up suddenly in his bed

- He goes to his door and opens it. Outside is the regular spruce forest, and Quackity is there to greet him.

---

It’s the day Wilbur got a tour from Tommy. Wilbur walks over to his resurrection shrine and finds the “PROJECT NEVADAS” book, reading it.

---

Las Nevadas. Wilbur, revived, comes walking down the road. 

He comes face to face with Quackity.

---

- Foolish stands on top of his temple, wondering...was Quackity right? Is he wasting his time here, accomplishing nothing? He isn’t really doing anything to work towards peace

- He stands in the beacon light. Can Quackity do better than everyone else that’s tried before him? Quackity wasn’t all wrong in what he said

- At the Banquet, when he did try to help, he wasn’t strong enough. He can’t even control his own area -- people just walk in and he can’t stop them. Does he need to try something else?

- Maybe there’s a balance between both ends of the spectrum. It wouldn’t hurt to go look, try something different

- He starts making the journey through the Nether, then past Spawn until he reaches Las Nevadas. Just to visit and look around

- Can he really trust someone who let him die?

- Foolish spots Quackity across the road and goes to speak with him. The casino is still going through some repairs, as they found some flaws with the “math” and want to make sure everything is fair

- Foolish asks what Quackity wants from him. Quackity tells him it’s up to him what he wants to do, and it wouldn’t be fair of Quackity to tell Foolish that until Foolish accepts the invitation

- Quackity tours Foolish around the place, showing off the various buildings, like a restaurant and an area for weddings. Quackity sleeps in the Needle. There’s also a strip club also undergoing repairs and a massive Eiffel Tower

- They swim in the pool and Quackity asks Foolish to tell him a bit more about himself. Foolish says he worked for Kinoko Kingdom and Snowchester, and Quackity wants him to elaborate a bit on Kinoko

- Quackity tells Foolish that Las Nevadas is “its own, independent nation” and that you can’t depend on anyone. Quackity wants to depend on only himself. 

- Foolish asks about the people who might not like that it’s a nation. Quackity says he just doesn’t have a plan and he’ll deal with it when the time comes

- Quackity tells Foolish he’s welcome to bring others. Foolish notes that Quackity said he doesn’t like to “dwell,” and by coming here maybe Foolish can stop dwelling on the past as well

- Quackity tells Foolish that Foolish chooses who he wants to be. The last thing he wants with Foolish is bad blood

Quackity: “I take care of those who take care of me...why do you think I have no one around?”

- Foolish tells him he’ll have an answer tomorrow. Quackity gives him temporary tokens for the casino and says goodbye to go and sleep. Foolish thinks to himself in Las Nevadas

- That’s when Foolish spots Fundy on the road and the stream abruptly ends

- Ranboo is in his basement. He wants to move the lab equipment to the table area

- He has an experiment log book that he won’t show chat

- Ranboo reads the letter Foolish left for him about the littering at his summer home

- He has a plan for what experiments he wants to do. He’s changed his opinion on the Enderwalk, as it allows him to hear chat in the first place. He doesn’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing

- Ranboo reaches the stronghold portal room and starts lining the walls with iron blocks. He thinks that after today, he might be able to remember everything

- He creates a glass water tank in the corner and some brewing stands, as well as a lever-activated dispenser with arrows

- Ranboo hit a wall with the experiments and he wonders if this strange table might be the key to breaking through

- He realized something frightening:

Ranboo: “The Enderwalk isn’t a different version of me, it’s not a different me, it’s still...me. But, from what I gathered...it’s me with...all of my memories. Every. Single. One. And I realized that...so...I mean, who knows what could’ve happened? There could’ve been an entire other story that I’m not aware of.”

- Ranboo wonders if he wants to keep living in blissful ignorance or know everything that’s happened

- He opens the log: 

---

[In Ender]

Purpose of experimentation:

To understand

To learn

To remember

---

To remember is one of the purposes. There are 43 pages, and one of them had the solution.

If it gets rid of it completely, he could lose all of what he didn’t know from before. It could either be good or unknown.

- He tells chat he tricked them. They weren’t just random experiments -- he was going to solve it, and he thought he needed chat with him. 

He didn’t need a splash potion. He would use the arrow and go into the water tank, and that would be the solution.

- Ranboo goes back and blocks up the hall, deciding to only use it as a last resort if something happens.

Only if something happens.

He “welp” claps to end stream.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts #prison arc #tw torture #tw manipulation

[name-dealer]

trying to maybe find a new name - any thoughts? additions? input?

ace

adrian

aiden

alex

allister

ash

asher

atlas

august

beckham

bennet

billie

caspian

cassius

cayden

cedar

charlie

chase

clay

cody

cupid

cypress

cyprus

cyrus

dakota

darcy

dean

denver

elias

embrey

everest

finn

finnley

fletcher

forest

hart

jackson

jesse

kade

killian

koi

lake

mars

mason

max

milo

monroe

noah

oliver

rain

sawyer

shiloh

soren

spencer

winter

quill

[hillnerd]

For the headcanon ask game - Romione + rain?

For the headcanon ask meme <-feel free to send a couple and a prompt- i'll either write a short blurb of headcanon or write a drabble my headcanon is that Hermione loves rainy days and Ron doesn't- she wins him over to them eventually:

RAIN

Hermione had always loved the rain. None of the other children in her class did. They'd moan and wail when they had to stay inside during playtime. As they all mourned the loss of their beloved tag, Hermione would squirm in delight.

While everyone else would suffer through checkers and building blocks, adventures and deserted islands waterfalled into the room with every drop of rain. Why deal with getting actual dirt under your nails, when you can imagine walking on beaches. Why deal with lines for the swingset and being elbowed off the climbing frame she could barely manage to stay on for more than a few seconds, when there were chapters of friends to spend her hour with.

-------------------------

Rainy days were absolutely, without a doubt, miserable! That's what they were. On a sunny day Ron’s brothers would let him come along and maybe even hang out a bit. He might just be target practice for an apple, but at least he was on a broom, and at least he was having something akin to a nice time with them.

Instead he was locked in, roped into chores, and no one would play him chess anymore. He'd just finished helping his mum mucking out some of the junk from under the sink when he felt his leg get crushed and he let out a string of curses.

“Get your legs out the way!” Fred hissed, giving him a light kick for good measure.

Utterly miserable.

-------------------------

Hermione wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck as a gust of rain-loaded wind made her umbrella quite pointless. The Quidditch Pitch was so misty she had no idea how the players were able to avoid colliding.

“Damn this weather is shit!”

A warm cloak was draped around her shoulder and she hurriedly leaned into Ron’s side.

“You shouldn’t curse.” She did her best to school her smile into a formidable frown of disapproval.

Ron laughed and shook his head. Droplets from his hair flicked onto the last dry bit of her face.

“Y’know, we’ve been friends for two years. You should probably get over my cursing. I’m not going to stop.”

“It’s impolite!”

“Worse things to be than impolite, aren’t there? I could be an arse like Malfoy.”

“And that’s the scale you’re grading yourself on? ‘Not as bad as Malfoy?’”

“Don’t be jealous of my lofty goals,” he said, putting his nose high in the air before squinting. “I hope Harry catches the Snitch soon. My bum’s going dead from the cold. Know anything that could warm it up?”

Hermione tucked her head behind her hair as heat radiated through her.

“There’s a hot-air-charm.”

“Oh yeah! Blow some hot air on me!”

“I don’t know it yet… I’ve only seen it.”

“Same.”

“And warming charms aren’t until fourth year.”

“Bit shit, that. It’s getting colder by the second out here. We should all know a good warming charm. Plus we live in a castle in Scotland! It’s bloody cold!”

“Ron!” she said, giving him a small elbow in the side.

“Sorry! I’ll try not to curse so much, I swea—”

“No! What’s that over there?”

A swathe of darkness rushed the field, undulating like a dark ink spill across the Quidditch field.

“Oh no…” Ron moaned. “Dementors!”

He gave another string of curses as they rushed towards the field.

Despite the cold, misery and terror encroaching, a bit of warmth kept the Dementors from fully affecting her as they had on the Hogwarts Express. It was Ron’s large hand holding hers all the way to the field.

She loved rainy days.

-------------------------

The wet squelch of his shoes echoing off stone hallways was the only sound left in the castle. Ron was alone, which was all for the better. He’d always loved Quidditch, but now it felt like a scimitar ready to come down and end him. At this point he’d welcome a good beheading— at least then he wouldn’t feel so bleeding miserable.

His sodden robes left tiny droplets, and he’d wrung out one giant puddle, in the halls. If Filch caught him, he’d probably give him a good dressing down, but Ron didn’t care. He deserved one.

How could Quidditch abilities have passed him by so thoroughly? He thought he’d been a good Keeper at home. He always got stuck in the position, but over time he grew to like it quite a lot. Not anymore.

His robes thwarted against the portrait whole as he drug himself through to an empty Common Room. Not wanting to face his dormmates he went for a seat by the fire, but found Hermione. She sat in one of the larger plush chairs, her little legs curled up under her in a way that would make his long limbs go numb in under a minute. All around her were parchment and books. She was working on a Charms assignment he knew was not due for another three weeks. She looked up from the work and gave a warm smile. Despite himself, he smiled back.

“It’s miserable enough with all the rain. Why compound it with Charms?” he asked.

“I wanted to wait for you. I don’t like the idea of you practicing in a storm like this. Especially by yourself! It’s not worth it.”

“Well I can’t quit,” he said, feeling mulish again and collapsing into the opposite chair with a great heave.

“I wasn’t suggesting you quit. Just maybe wait for nights where there isn’t a maelstrom?”

“Ah, but then there’d be loads of other people wanting to practice, and then they’d all see how I suck eggs.”

“I’ve seen you fly and you don’t ‘suck eggs,’” she said, finishing her sentence with a flourish of her quill.

“There’s a whole song about it.”

“That song…” she growled, casting a charm on her paper to dry the ink.. “Malfoy’s the one who sucks eggs! He’s a little monster and I’m a bit in shock the professors have done absolutely nothing to stop him.”

“Why would they?” he said with a shrug.

“Because it’s a monstrous display of bullying? Because it’s targeting a student and making the whole school absolutely toxic? It’s wrong? It’s harmful? Take your pick!”

Ron straightened in his seat as she pointed her wand at him. Suddenly he was hit with the most satisfying warming charm, followed by a water wicking spell.

“You’re good at Keeping! I’ve seen you do it every summer up against the twins, Ginny, and even Charlie. But you’re no good to anyone if you get struck by lightning, fall from your broom, or catch pneumonia from being out in this weather! And what are you smiling at?” she asked, brows furrowed enough to make that cute little line appear between them.

“You.”

“You should take what I’m saying seriously!”

“Fine, I won’t fly in this weather alone.”

“Well who will accompany you?”

He hesitated a moment then replied, “You, if you’ll come.”

“I can. As long as I’m ahead on my revising.”

“Then you can always come, as you’re always ahead,” he said putting his feet up on her arm rest.

“I also meant it about the Keeping. I think you’re good.”

“Yeah, well… Quidditch isn’t your strong suit.” She shoved his feet off the chair and he gave a chuckle. “But, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Despite wanting to be so ahead in her studies, Ron noticed how she ignored her parchment the rest of the evening for him. For a rainy evening, it was quite nice.

#romione #hermione granger #ron weasley #rain #my writing #harry potter #hp fan fiction #romione fic #drabble #fan fic

[startanewdream]

Summer Rain

My first official entry for the @harryandginuary Bingo Event!

Prompt: O63 - “I’m having the worst day and you've just handed me an envelope with...”

Read on AO3 or below:

_______

It is raining. A summer rain that is not enough to relieve the heat of the day, but is enough to grey the sky and fill it with thunder clouds—and enough for her mum to forbid her of flying today. Ginny would complain—she is sixteen, for Merlin’s sake—but the truth ia she is not in the mood at all; lately flying just means her going as high as her broom allows, until everything down in the ground is just a huge mess of colours, and then Ginny can pretend there are no problems.

But she always comes back to the ground and the illusion passes quickly.

There was a time she flew alone all the time, whenever she could—but now flying is associated with the rush of the wind against her face, the crowd crying her name, the wings of the Golden Snitch fluttering uselessly in her hand and when she goes to the ground, she rushes into Harry’s arms without a doubt in her mind, and he accepts her, bending his head to place his lips upon hers and it is, as he once called, sunlit days.

So unlikely the weather now.

‘Ginny?’ her mother’s voice makes her jump. Lately, any sound is making Ginny startle, her hand already holding her wand, and she can’t help but look expecting to see an enemy or… him, even though it’s useless. She knows he won’t return so soon; it’s been less than a month since they went away.

‘Here, Mum,’ she calls back, not bothering to rise. Her mum knows she is in the living room; there is no other place Ginny can go and lately her room has too many memories too.

One memory, in particular. Sometimes Ginny regrets that birthday gift only because it hurts to remember it as much as it fills her with longing and happiness they could share one last… no. Another kiss. She refuses to think of it as the last kiss.

Her mum comes into the room; Ginny sees the worry in her eyes as she notices her youngest daughter sitting gloomily by the window, but her mum puts on a brave smile for her. Ginny returns it the best she can, though she knows it’s more like a grimace.

‘You got a letter,’ Molly says, offering Ginny an envelope that she holds with a strange detachment. Ginny knows that the people she misses the most won’t write to her anytime soon. ‘Hogwarts letter.’

That doesn’t bring any emotion to Ginny’s face. ‘Nice,’ she says.

Her mum caresses Ginny’s hair softly.

‘There was a time you couldn’t wait to receive your Hogwarts letter.’

Ginny closes her eyes for a moment. There are a hundred good moments she lived in Hogwarts, but right now she can only think of feathers and ink on her hands, dementors flying in the Quidditch pitch, writing with a quill that uses her own blood as ink, Dumbledore’s body falling limply on the ground under a green Dark Mark.

‘Well, things change.’

‘Ginny…’

A part of her knows that her mum is just concerned, but Ginny can only hear the pity in her mother’s voice and that is something she can’t stand. She already pities herself enough.

‘Mum—I’m having the worst day and you've just handed me an envelope with a Hogwarts letter as if things will be wonderful this year, as if we aren’t in a war, as if I don’t want to be fighting instead of locked away in that castle…’

She chokes, hating the tears that come to her eyes, and looks away back to the window, trying to concentrate on the sound of the rain tapping against the glass, anything to ignore that pain that threatens to tear her heart apart.

‘Just be patient, Ginny,’ her mum asks, placing her arm around Ginny’s shoulder and bringing her closer. ‘I know it’s not easy, but things will be alright. They will be alright.’

Ginny dries her eyes, nodding even as if she knows her mother’s words are empty; there is no guarantee for anyone.

‘Now,’ her mum begins, her voice valiant. ‘Let’s see what books we need to buy, shall we? The envelope seems heavy.’

Ginny opens her letter. A badge falls on her hand and she almost drops it in surprise.

‘Quidditch Captain?’ her mother asks aloud, replicating Ginny’s shock.

‘Yeah, I guess McGonagall already knows…’ her voice dies, unable to say it out loud, but her mother shakes her head.

‘No, the letters arrived for them too.’ There is a moment of silence and Ginny thinks of the letters that will remain unopened. ‘I think Minerva just recognized your talent and promoted you.’

Ginny raises the badge, watching it with trepidation. She dreams of being captain ever since she first saw Charlie leaving for Hogwarts with the same badge; it is the beginning of her Quidditch career, she knows, and yet…

‘Ginny,’ her mother calls her once again, and Ginny sees the look on her face, wise and knowing and so motherly. ‘I think that deserves a new broom. One more appropriate for a future professional chaser, don’t you think?’

Ginny doesn’t hide her surprise. ‘You know?’ she whispers.

‘I’ve seen you fly ever since you were seven’, Molly replies, smiling. ‘And I know you too well.’ Another pause and her mother looks suddenly sad as she combs Ginny’s hair as if she is thinking that Ginny grew up too fast. ‘You’ll need to tell Harry later how you led Gryffindor to victory, won’t you?’

Ginny could argue with her mother—winning a Quidditch Cup seem so unimportant given everything that is going on—, she could blush under her mother’s assumption that Ginny would talk specifically with Harry—maybe she knows about that too, even though Ginny never told her—, but for now, she just sighs, longing for the moment when talking about a Quidditch match will be possible with Harry.

‘That is a great idea,’ she says, moving to the side to allow her mother to sit next to her, so they can watch the rain quietly together.

#Hinny #Hinny fanfiction #of course I had to start with angst #DH missing Moment #harryandginuary

[beebundt]

(non-sexual nudity) accumulated doodle page with charlie and her gf i never talk abt that she's so in love with. both she/her

#my art #art #illustration #drawing #artists on tumblr #digital art #my ocs #oc #ocs #original character #charlie raine quill #charlie #weaver #dont be weird in the tags and comments THANK YOU #nudity cw

[okay-j-hannah]

That’s My Wife

Harry Potter : Fic

Charlie x Reader

Word Count: 3049

Warnings: SEXY TALK! Charlie is just all over you and your quidditch uniform 😂 Also I know I keep using different gifs for Charlie fics... I just look up ‘hot ginger man’ and pick one I like 🥰

Request: “Hey could I have a story where you are Charlie Weasleys wife and a professional quidditch player? In goblet of fire when they go to the world cup instead of Ireland vs Krum it's your team versus Krum and Charlie is so proud to have Weasley on your uniform and is showing you off to everyone and idk I really just think of Charlie as a very proud guy but humble. Thanks so much!” - Anon

A/N: There’s nothing quite like having your husband be your biggest supporter, especially with the Quidditch World Cup fast approaching

Shifting beneath the covers, (Y/N) sighed as her brain began to wake up. There were a number of thumps happening outside their bedroom and she groaned.

“Charlie?”

Thankfully, a hand came sneakily around her waist, pulling her to him, “What’s the point of apparating if we don’t even get to sleep in?”

“They’re excited,” (Y/N) replied in a quiet voice, keeping her eyes closed as she turned towards her husband, “And people are a bit careless when they’re tired.”

Footsteps could be heard going down the creaky stairs and (Y/N) peered behind Charlie to see that the moon was still basking their window. It had to have been nearly daybreak for the others to be up and about.

“I’ll have to get ready anyway,” she mumbled, resting back into Charlie’s embrace, “The team wants to do warmups and standard procedure before the majority of the crowds…”

Charlie suddenly held her tighter, silencing her with a grin, “Later, sweetheart – I won’t be able to see you all day. I want to hold you for a little while before you fly off.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escape her with him cradling her against his chest. Though the World Cup was hours away, she knew her captain wouldn’t let her out of his sight until the game started. With the narrow win England made to be entered into the cup, there was immense pressure to deliver a swift and skillful victory for the team.

Being the rising star of “Quidditch Weekly,” there was a lot on (Y/N)’s shoulders to carry the team. It was that thought that began to swell within her when a sudden shout came from downstairs.

“George! What is that in your pocket?”

Charlie laughed low in his throat, his grisly morning voice doing it justice, “Looks like mum found those joke shop toffees.”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t you lie to me!”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, allowing Charlie’s natural scents relax her; worn leather, old newspaper, rain-soaked grass. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do without him giving her pep talks between penalty shots and time outs.

More than anything she wished he could be on the grounds with the referees instead of up in the stands.

With the anxiety filling her up as it usually did before a big game, she reached for his hand wrapped around her. Lacing their fingers together, she could feel him lean into her neck and plant a kiss behind her ear.

“You’re going to be incredible, sweetheart.”

She sighed into a smile, closing her eyes once more and allowing a few more moments of peace.

“Accio! Accio! Accio!” Came from downstairs, and she laughed out loud that time.

~~~

The sun crept higher and higher as the team lay on the pitch, doing stretches. Their captain Edric Vosper was pacing along the team benches.

“England hasn’t been a part of the Quidditch World Cup since 1981,” he intertwined his fingers in front of him, “And with us scraping that win against Transylvania last month… there’s too much at stake.”

“We know, Vosper,” came the voices of some of (Y/N)’s best friends – the beaters of the team, Dawn and Indira.

“We’ve had this same speech at every practice since that win,” (Y/N) added, smirking and straightening her arm braces, “I’m not sure there’s much else you can say to prepare us.” Her fellow chasers Avery and Keaton snickered behind their hands.

Vosper seemed at a loss of a comeback, finally sitting on one of the benches, “You’re right, of course. I just had a talk with Ludo Bagman and have basically every coin in my account betted for England being the winning team.”

“Why would you do that?” Dawn cried, slumping onto the grassy ground, “I’m worried enough about the game without knowing you’ll be broke if we lose.”

“And will probably have to crash at my place for the rest of the year,” Avery rolled his eyes.

Vosper put his face in his hands and took a deep breath, making the team all refrain from smiling sarcastically. (Y/N) stood and folded her arms, leaning forward slightly to speak.

“I say we take a break before the match starts – go enjoy some time with our families until the whistle blows.”

Keaton flexed his fingers, “Yeah, if I have to practice another quaffle pass I pretty sure my fingertips will snap.”

The team all laughed, evidently trying to make it as lighthearted as possible with the amount of pressure all nestled on their shoulders. (Y/N) secretly believed that a pep talk from all their close friends and family would motivate and improve the teams morale.

But she also knew that if she voiced that much of her opinion, then the players would just tease her about becoming the next great captain for the team. And she was too good of friends with Edric to make him doubt the authority of his position.

“Hey, guys, we’ve been practicing every day for weeks,” Indira stated, pulling a knee to her chest for a stretch. “Maybe enjoying our last meal with our families would relieve some stress.”

“Why are you saying it like we’ve all got death sentences? Our last meal?” Avery laughed, leaning over to push her away playfully.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Way to improve the mood, Hawksworth.”

The rest of the team laughed again, waiting for Vosper to lift his head from his hands. When he did he focused his attention to the opposing team across the quidditch pitch. The brutal Bulgarian team was conducting a number of routines with quaffle passes and snitch spotting.

They donned scarlet robes with black and gold lettering, which reminded (Y/N) of her Gryffindor house back at Hogwarts. It made her frown to see them arrogantly flashing those colors as they sped on their similarly tinted Firebolts.

Peering down at her own uniform, she relished in the bright white and complementary cherry red accents. The proud emblem of golden dragons blazoned the front and brought a fiery desire to beat Bulgaria with every bit of will power she had.

“I think we are over exhausting ourselves,” Vosper concluded, resting his elbows on his knees. “How about this – you all are free to do whatever you please until the match, as long as you deliver the Rowntree Counter.” He stared pointedly at (Y/N), saying, “If we can execute that as perfectly as you did with Transylvania, we’ll have this game in the bag.”

With slight hesitation, she gulped and nodded. She knew there were scouts in the crowd, recruiters that were looking for talent. If she could make a spotlight of their team, they could go far in quidditch history.

It was this thought that dwelled with her as she left the pitch and made her way through the crowds to find the tent grounds the Weasley’s had rented.

She quickly found herself distracted by numerous fans; now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, she could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. She made her way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around.

Many of the campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; a tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami.

“Excuse me, miss,” came a timid voice nearby, “Are you (Y/N) Weasley?”

She turned her shoulder and saw a young girl and boy standing on their tip toes and wringing their hands excitedly.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”

“The chaser for England’s National team?” the boy added on, somewhat disregarding her previous response.

(Y/N) peered down at her uniform and shrugged her shoulders, “I’m pretty sure that’s what my robes say.”

There was a squeal behind her, and then another and another. Whispers, then shouts, began appearing all around her as exclamations said:

“Is that…?”

“Mum! It’s the England chaser!”

“She was on the cover of Quidditch Weekly yesterday.”

“Do you think I could get a signature?”

“Wait… (Y/N) Weasley?”

“I don’t have a quill… would she mind using my body paint?”

And it was twenty minutes before she was able to extract herself from the growing crowd. She had signed robes, arms, books, tents, and English flags with everything from paint to lipstick. There was even a little girl that bought a miniature figurine of (Y/N) that padded along her palm, even laughing the same full body laugh that (Y/N) usually did, which she signed the back of.

She had to apologize to everyone as she pushed through, saying she’d like to get to her family before the day was through. It didn’t stop the stares, gasps, and waves, but she was grateful for not being followed as closely anymore.

A short way farther on, she saw two little witches, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls’ toes to skim the dewy grass. Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents to claim a breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn’t work.

As she neared the other side of the fields, she noticed the colors changing drastically from black and scarlet to white and cherry. This new patch of tents were all covered with thick clusters of dragon themed décor; blue, red, and white flags flew all around the campers. Dragon kites, dragon statues, dragon emblems, dragon puppets, and even dragon hide was covering most other surfaces.

It really showed the loyalty, as well as the increase of more fans trying to get her attention. One began waving a moving poster of herself crossing her arms and smiling broadly. But just beyond she noticed the exact family she was looking for.

“Charlie!”

One of the redheads sitting around the morning fire stood and whipped around to see who was calling for him. When he spotted his beloved, he called out, urging her forward.

The nearer she got, she noticed that it wasn’t just the Weasley’s, Harry, and Hermione – Ludo Bagman and Mr. Barty Crouch were there too.

“I thought you were going to be on the pitch all day!” Charlie cried, reaching her and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until after the game.”

She giggled happily as he lifted her enough that she was on her toes, “We convinced Vosper that we could use a break to gather our senses.” She nuzzled into his shoulder as they continued to hold each other close – that calming smell of rainfall and old, weathered book pages whelmed her again.

Charlie moved a hand to the side of her face where he could direct her attention to his eyes, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

She smiled, her eyes suspicious, “Even in this sweaty updo?”

“What can I say? I can’t resist a woman in uniform.” He gave her a seductive gaze and bit his lip, leaning his forehead against hers.

She moved her hands up his torso and around his neck, sighing deep in her chest, “Not until I knock Bulgaria on their ass.”

Charlie closed his eyes and breathed deeply, “You just got a whole lot sexier.” And he practically growled as he dipped for a kiss, a hungry kiss. The intensity took (Y/N) slightly off guard, accidentally pulling a moan out of her.

“Okay, woah, woah!” came the boisterous voices of Fred and George, “Lock it up, this isn’t your honeymoon.”

They could hear Ginny laughing with Bill, and Percy was muttering things like, “Right in front of Mr. Crouch,” under his breath.

“Now, Charlie,” Mr. Weasley stated in a nervously loud tone, “We’ve got guests.”

(Y/N) had to be the one to pull away, finding her breath was taken away by the moment. Charlie grinned and waved a hand over his shoulder.

“Paparazzi,” she muttered, “We’re surrounded by witnesses.”

“It would be ridiculous to hide my feelings for you, (Y/N). Why shouldn’t the public know we have a perfectly wonderful marriage.” He held her by her shoulders, “I’m proud to have you by my side, so what if the Daily Prophet knows we kiss… guess what? We’re married!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “Still I’d like to keep a few things… hello!” Behind Charlie’s shoulder she could see the entire Weasley family, and guests, watching them closely.

Charlie twirled around and put an arm around (Y/N), “Mr. Crouch, Ludo – may I introduce my wife, (Y/N) Weasley. THE best chaser that England has known these last few years.”

Ludo Bagman, a jolly man with rosy cheeks and a boyish charm, stood immediately and came to shake hands, “An introduction long overdue I’m sure you feel as well. You know I’ve got a pretty penny on your head to get England the win tonight.”

“Us too,” Fred yelled over the many heads, “So don’t fall off your broom.”

“Oh, you’ve seen nothing until you’ve seen (Y/N) play on the pitch,” Charlie stated, leaning towards the group, “She’s like a snitch herself, whipping through the air.”

“Yes,” agreed Ludo, “The biggest hope England has had in over a decade.”

Charlie beamed, moving his loving gaze to his wife. He simply stood there admiring the praise and talent, silently wondering how it was possible she had chosen him to be her husband.

“Thank you, Mr. Bagman,” (Y/N) replied, “Though you should look at England as the team it is – I’m just one person; it takes all of us to win the cup.”

Charlie grinned even wider if it was possible. Admiration wasn’t enough to describe how in awe he was of her. It was like she was in total denial that she was plainly the one carrying the national team. Though it was incredibly endearing and only made him more in love with the fact that she was with him.

“Oh, please, don’t neglect your talents,” Ludo exclaimed, “We all know you were the one that got the qualification from the Transylvania win!”

“Even with that illegal shot by the bludger,” Ron interjected, sneaking the rest of Hermione’s breakfast sausages, “Those scheming, biased referees.”

Bill clapped his hands together, “This is exactly the problem, if we can’t find the right people to observe the field, then what’s the point of having good players? They’ll be disregarded completely with a biased referee!”

And the family continued the conversation of the prospects of the upcoming game. Percy and Mr. Weasley tried to continue remarks with Mr. Crouch before he left and shortly followed by Bagman.

And all Charlie could do was stare at his wife and wonder… wonder how he got so lucky.

~~~

She could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Dawn and Avery couldn’t stop grinning.

The roaring voice of Ludo Bagman could be heard magically magnified across the sea of people.

“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. A huge blackboard opposite them showed BULGARIA: 0, ENGLAND: 0.

After a presentation of entrancing Veela and a few soaring dragon fireworks, Ludo began to announce the Bulgarian quidditch team members; next came England.

“Presenting – Vosper, Frisby, Choudry, Withey, Flitney, Hawksworth, and Weasley!”

Seven gleaming robed players came whizzing out of the stands on white golden Firebolts. The Weasley family cheered and shook their top box voraciously.  

“That’s her, that’s her!” yelled Charlie, waving his English flag and pushing into Bill and Ron. His brother followed her with his Omnioculars.

“Theeeeeeeey’re OFF!” screamed Bagman. “And it’s Weasley! Hawksworth! Flitney! Dimitrov! Back to Weasley! Hawksworth! Levski! Flitney!”

The speed of the players was incredible – the chasers were throwing the quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Charlie reached over to fight Ron’s Omnioculars off him but failed as he heard the name Weasley again.

The chasers had fallen into their Rowntree Counter, their signature move. They flew into a straight dive as red, white, and blue colors came streaming out of the back of their brooms – signifying the flag of the United Kingdom.

They knocked two of the opposing Bulgarian players teetering on their brooms and distracted the beaters. Flitney passed the quaffle to Hawksworth, who kicked it around before passing it back to Weasley.

(Y/N) did a magnificent overhead kick into the hoop on the far left.

“WEASLEY SCORES!” roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. “Ten zero to England!”

Charlie jumped and waved his arms, screaming himself hoarse, “THAT’S MY WIFE! WEASLEY IS MY WIFE!”

Bill reached over and stuffed his UK flag over Charlie’s face to shut him up, and Ginny laughed, giving him her white and red rosette.

(Y/N) did a lap of honor around the field and threw a kiss towards the top box where Charlie waved his hands toward her, “I love you, baby!”

The England chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another’s minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette now on Charlie’s chest kept squeaking their names: “Flitney – Weasley – Hawksworth!” And within ten minutes, England had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the white-clad supporters.

Charlie watched as (Y/N) performed miraculous moves toward the goal posts. The continuous overhead kicks, the usage of the butt-end of her broom like a beater bat, and the intense throw of her arm was mesmerizing.

Charlie yelled and screamed until his face turned red, shouting his praise for his wife. The other members in the top box had to accept the fact that Charlie wasn’t going to shut up about his incredible player on the field.

It was just a continuous strain of, “THAT’S MY WIFE!” with a splendid look of pride and admiration on his cheery face.

“WEASLEY IS MY WIFE!”

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @andreasworlsboring101 @oncemorewithfeelingg

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

#charlie weasley #harry potter charlie #harry potter charlie weasley #charlie weasley x you #charlie #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x #weasley #harry potter fandom #harry potter #wizarding world #charlie x reader #charlie weasley angst #charlie weasley fluff #charlie weasley love #harry potter and the goblet of fire #goblet of fire #quidditch #quidditch world cup

[wonderweasley]

Are You Ready?

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Plot: Charlie leaves Hogwarts and you’re left behind to finish your 7th year. While he’s in Romania, the two of you write back and forth. 

Warnings: just fluff :’)

‘Tap tap tap’

Lifting your eyes from your potions assignment, you see an owl perched on the windowsill near your bed. You pick yourself up to open the window, take the letter from the tawny bird, and give it a treat to say thank you. The first thing you notice is Charlie’s neat handwriting across the front of the letter, the second being the faint scent of smoke emanating from the paper. You smile to yourself and carefully tear into the parchment. 

My dearest (Y/N),

My days seem to last forever without you in them. I miss you more than you could imagine- more than a cool breeze on a hot summer’s day, more than the desert misses rain, more than...someone who misses something a lot. 

Sorry, I ran out of poetic things to say.

Anyways, I truly do miss you more than I could ever describe. As amazing as it is being around dragons and following my dreams, I love you almost as much as I love these wonderful creatures and I find myself wanting to hold you, and kiss you, and hear your beautiful laugh again. It’s definitely a good thing that we’ll get to see each other in a few weeks for Christmas at the Burrow; I don’t think I could go another month without you. See you soon, darling.

All my love, 

Charlie

You couldn’t stop the tears that fell from your eyes. Charlie had been away in Romania for months now as you stayed behind to finish your 7th year at Hogwarts, and you missed him more than you’d ever tell your friends. As supportive and understanding as they were, you knew they’d tease you about it. 

After reading through the letter a few more times, you picked up your quill and moved your homework to the side to write back to your dragon-loving boyfriend.

Charlie, my love,

As much as I love your so-called poetry, I miss your smile even more. And all your cute little freckles. I’m beyond excited to see you again soon, and even more excited that I get to spend another Christmas with you and your family. Even Fred and George, the little rats.

Merlin, I can’t even describe how ready I am to see you again. Reading your letter alone made me cry, so expect tears the second I see you, love.

Here’s to hoping these next few weeks go by as quickly as possible.

Forever yours,

(Y/N)

After making sure Charlie’s owl was well rested and fed, you tied your letter to it and sent it on its way back to Romania.

Three weeks later, you step off of the Hogwarts Express, ready to finally see your boyfriend after what felt like years. You searched the crowd, and the second you spotted that familiar red hair, you took off running and jumped into his strong arms. 

“I’m so happy to see you, you have no idea,” you giggled as he lifted you from the ground and spun you around a few times. 

“Believe me, love, I have an idea. Because I missed you just as much...or maybe even more,” Charlie smiled. His hands cupped your face as he pulled you into a slow, passionate kiss, feeling all the emotions coming through. You both could feel how much you’d missed each other. 

“Well,” you said, pulling away and grabbing your trunk. “Ready to head off to the Burrow?”

“Ready, darling.”

#charlie weasley #charlie #harry potter imagine #harry potter #charlie weasley x reader #imagine #weasley

[cedriccullen00]

your back!

(embry call x reader)

-your mom has always been good friends with charlie and billy, so you grew up in La Push.

-you moved away three years ago and you and your mom are finally moving back.

-you were best friends with Quill, Jacob, and Embry

Mom and I sat in the car in front of our old house next to Charlie Swans. It had been 3 years since I’d been here, most of the memories had washed away but a good chunk of them stayed. The house had been rented out a few times while mom and I were gone but she never officially sold it, I like to think she knew we’d come back. I cleared my throat and she looked at me smiling. “Ready to get settled back in?” she asked and I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” I whispered and she nodded. I stepped out of the car and took a deep breath smelling the rain, I smiled to myself I never noticed how much I missed this place. I grabbed a box and walked into the oh so familiar house and up to my old room that was still the light grey I picked out at 12. I chuckled a little at my younger self, I had pleaded with my mother to let me paint over the bright blue walls because a ‘mature’ almost teenager didn’t need blue walls. I went back out to the car and helped my mom carry in the rest of the boxes. We then proceeded to unpack our rooms while we waited for the truck carrying our furniture to arrive.

I heard a car door close and I looked excitedly out my window to see the police cruiser in the driveway next door. “Charlie’s home mom!” I shouted running out of my room and down the stairs as quick as I could. I threw the front door open and ran over to Charlie, he was always like a father figure to me. “Charlie!” I shouted as he unlocked his door and his head turned to me, a smile breaking out on his face. I got to him and wrapped my arms around his neck and he chuckled. “Hey kid. God you’ve grown.” he said and I laughed releasing myself from the hug. “Yeah I have, 3 years does go a long way.” I said and he nodded with a chuckle. “Dad whose here......” a voice came but drifted off as we met eyes. “B-bella?” I gasped and she smiled “Y/N.” she said. She threw herself on me and my eyes began to tear up, we had been the best of friends. When she visited Forks you wouldn’t see one of us without the other. “Oh my god.” I whispered and she hugged me tighter. “I’m so glad you’re here.” she whispered and I nodded “Me too. I heard you moved here, I missed you so much.” I mumbled and she laughed. “I think to make this reunion better we all should take a trip to La Push.” my mother said walking over to us. “Heidi....” Charlie mumbled and my mother smiled flashing her beautiful teeth. “Hello Charlie.” she said.

We pulled up to the Black house and Charlie turned around in his seat. “Ready?” he asked and I nodded excitedly. “Last one in there owes the rest a milkshake!” I shouted jumping out and running towards the door. “Hey not fair!” Bella shouted jumping out of the car. I got to the door and knocked hard. “It’s open!��� Billy yelled so I opened it and sprinted in. “Ha! Beat you Swan!” I yelled looking behind me and she rolled her eyes. “Y/N?” Billy asked and I turned my attention to the small living room. “Hey Billy! Surprise!” I shouted walking over to him and hugging him. “You look great kid, how’ve you been?” he asked and I shrugged. “Decent, glad to be back.” I said looking around the familiar Black house. “Hey do I hear Y/N or am I going crazy?” a voice came from the hallway and I turned to see Jacob. A tall, handsome, strong Jacob, Ill be honest it kind of took me back. “Wow..” I whispered and he chuckled. “Hey Y/N.” he greeted and I waved. “What’s wrong?” he asked and I furrowed my brows. “You’re just so much taller. And stronger, how? It’s been three years.” I whispered as he walked closer. “Puberty.” he said and I shook my head. “Are you taking steroids Jake?” I asked looking up at him and he burst out laughing with Bella. “Now Y/N.” my mother scolded as she walked in. “What mom? Look at him!” I said pointing at my old best friend. “Just shut your yap and hug me already.” Jacob said and I sighed. I wrapped my arms around him and realized how hot he was but decided to to mention it. After a minutes I pulled back and Jacob smiled. “Wait til Embry and Quill see you.” he whispered and as if it were on cue the back door opened.

“I’m just saying you’re......wrong.” Embrys voice came but stopped when I met his eyes. His pupils grew large and he shook his head. “Hey Call, long time no see.” I said walking towards him and he nodded. “Um yeah it has been. You look good.” he said and I smiled. “Thanks Em, you don’t look half bad yourself. And look at you Quill, finally grew into those eyebrows.” I teased as he hugged me. “Yeah and I see you finally grew into your attitude.” he shot back and I rolled my eyes slapping him playfully. “I turned to Embry and hugged him gently seeing his tense figure, I wrapped my arms around his middle and he wrapped his around my back. I let go after a second and turned to face everyone motioning Jake over. He stood by Quill and I look at the three boys. “Look a little different don’t we?” Jake asked and my mom nodded. “Yes....you all look nothing like the 10 year olds that couldn’t get enough of each other.” she said and I chuckled. I felt a movement beside me and saw Embrg shaking a little. “You okay Em?” I asked and he nodded. “Umm yeah. Listen I should be getting back home. It was nice to see you again Ms.L/N and you too Y/N.” he said before bolting out the back door. Quill and Jacob sent me an apologetic look before following him. We all hung out at Billy’s for awhile before mom said we’d better get back since she had work tomorrow.

“Mom did Embry seem off to you?” I asked as we walked into the house and she shrugged. “He was probably just nervous, you haven’t seen him in 3 years and you grew up. Maybe he thinks you’re cute.” she said and I shook my head smiling, a little part of me has always loved him. “Don’t be ridiculous mom. Listen I’m going to his moms tomorrow since I haven’t seen her in awhile, I also need to go get some groceries. I’ll have dinner ready by the time you get off work.” I said and she nodded. “I appreciate it hun.” she said kissing my cheek. “Of course. Night mom I love you.” I said heading to the stairs. “Night sweetie, love you too.” she said. I walked into my room and sighed, the walls were to blank. I opened one of my boxes that held tons of pictures and smiled. There was one of Billy and Charlie with me at a Father Daughter dance, some of the boys and I at the beach, one of mom and I on Christmas, and the last one which was my favorite. It was of again the boys and I, it was the last summer I was here and we all decided that it would be a good idea to see who could bake the best cake. It all went to hell so that described the flour and cake batter all over the kitchen, but it also described the happy kids that truly loved each other. I hung all the pictures up wiping a few stray tears that escaped my eyes. After they were all up I layer down on my bed and quickly drifted to sleep.

I knocked on the Calls door with a little candle in my hand as a gift. Embrys mom, Tiffany, opened the door and gasped. “Y/N L/N, oh my look how beautiful you’ve gotten.” she said looking over my features with a smile on her face. “Awe thank you ma’am that’s sweet of you. Only difference really is my hairs longer.” I said with a small laugh and she chuckled opening the door wider. “Yes you could say that. Here come in come in.” she said. I walked into the house that smelled that cinnamon and leaves and took my shoes off. “Here, a little gift. It’s not much but I remember how much you liked candles.” I said handing it to her and she smiled. “Oh sweetie that wasn’t necessary. I do love a good candle though. Go ahead and make yourself at home, I’ll have tea out and ready in a minute.” she said and I nodded walking over to the couch and sitting down.

After a minute she came back into the living room with to mugs of tea smiling brightly, she handed me mine and sat down next to me. “So how are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” she said and I chuckled. “I know it’s been awhile. I’ve been good though, Nevada was actually really nice and there were a lot of nice people there.” I said. “So did you have a boyfriend in Nevada?” she asked and I chocked on my tea. I coughed a little while shaking my head, I recovered from the accident and answered. “You know how I am Ms.Call I don’t date. Granted a lot of boys did ask me out.” I said and she frowned. “Wel no wonder, your beautiful. Why’d you turn them down?” she asked and I blushed slightly. “I knew none of them were the ones, it didn’t feel right.” I said and she nodded sipping her tea. “So how’ve you been?” I asked and she shrugged. “It’s been okay. The store has been very busy so I’ve been doing double shifts, but I guess it’s good because I do get more money. Embrys been good though, he helps a lot when he can.” she said and I nodded. “He’s always been like that. I missed you guys so much you have no idea, I wanted to come visit but I had school and a job.” I said and she smiled at me. “Education comes first sweetie. I’m just glad your back, the boys weren’t the same while you were gone and everyone could see it.” she said and I chuckled as the door opened. Embry walked in and I turned to look at him. “Oh hey Y/N.” he said closing the door and I waved. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll just grab something to eat and leave you all be.” he said walking to the kitchen. “Oh no it’s okay. I have to get going anyway, I have to get groceries before moms shift ends. It was great seeing you Ms.Call really, I’ll call later.” I said getting up and she nodded. “Hey Embry can you go with Y/N to the store, we need some milk and eggs.” she called and Embry walked out of the kitchen. He seemed tense but nodded, he couldn’t say no to his mom he never could. “Of course mom. I’ll be in the car.” Embry said heading out the door. I said my final goodbye to Tiffany giving her a quick hug before walking out to my car.

I started the car and pulled out of the driveway slowly before starting up the road. Embry was silent which was strange, so I decided to break the silence. “How was your day Embry?” I asked and he shrugged “It was alright nothing exciting.” he said and I nodded. I glanced over and saw him looking out the window will flexing his fingers. “Ok spill it. What’s up with you? You acted like you didn’t want to be around me yesterday and now your all quite.” I said and he sighed looking down at his hands. “I can’t directly tell you.” he whispered and I scoffed. “Why not? Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” I asked and he looked up at me frowning. “No of course not. Okay so you remember the stories Jacobs dad used to tell us?” he asked and I nodded. “The legends about the shapeshifters, the third wide, imprinting, and all that fun stuff right?” I asked taking a turn. “Yeah right. Well there true.” he said and my eyes widened and my head snapped in his direction. “W-what? S-so you’re a w-werewolf?” I gasped and he shrugged. “You could say that. Anyway you know about imprinting right?” he asked and I shrugged. “Sure, it’s like a soulmate isn’t it?” I asked regaining my voice and he nodded. “More or less. Well erm when I say you yesterday my heart literally skipped a beat, it felt like you were an angle just glowing.” he whispered and I smiled. “Awe.” I whispered and he nodded. “So I went to Sam and asked if that’s what he felt when he first saw Emily and he said basically.” he mumbled. “Embry Call are you saying Im your imprint?” I asked as I pulled into a parking space in front of the store. “Yeah I guess...but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.” he whispered and I chuckled. “Stop while your at it Embry. Of course I feel the same way, I’ve liked you since I was 11. Now c’mon I need groceries.”I said climbing out of the car. He got out too and came over so he was in front of me. “Y/N L/N will you be my girlfriend?” he asked and I smiled. “Of course you dork. Now c’mon I really want some mac n cheese.” I whined taking his hand and dragging him to the store.

I pushed the buggy down the aisle grabbing things my mom and I like. “So you aren’t freaked out at all?” he asked and I shook my head. “Nope.” I said popping the ‘p’ and he sighed. “I appreciate you being so nice about this.” he whispered and I chuckled. “Embry do you really think I would’ve been like ‘Ew really? That’s so creepy why would I want to date a wolf!’ cause if you did that’s kind of mean.” I said looking at him and he smiled. “Of course I didn’t think you’d react like that. I’m not that mean.” he said and I shook my head. “You know Em, I think this’ll be a great relationship.” I whispered looking into his brown eyes and he smiled brightly. “Me too Y/N, me too.” he whispered before kissing my head and leading us towards the next isle.

#twilight #embry call x reader #embry call #jacob black

[sparkliest-bard-bracket]

✨Bard Pictures & Propaganda Submission Statuses✨

(I'll do my best to keep this list updated, and you can, of course, write propaganda for bards that already have some)

Bards with both pictures and propaganda:

Thom Merrilin (Wheel of Time)

Chong (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Orpheus (Greek Mythology)

Stefen (The Heralds of Valdemar)

Guiliastes/Gui (1/2 Prince)

Asmodean (Wheel of Time)

Venti (Genshin Impact)

Hoid/Wit (Cosmere)

Hap Gladheart (Realm of the Elderlings)

Alastair Nobledrifter (Saving Throw - DnD Podcast)

Maglor (The Silmarillion)

William Shamspeare (Ace Attorney)

Dob the Half-Orc Bard (Oxventure)

Diedrich Knickerbocker (Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story)

Edward Chris von Muir (Final Fantasy IV)

Yara of Nowhere, the Wandering Bard (A Practical Guide to Evil)

Raz'ul, Son of Daz'ul (BomBARDed)

Apollo/Lester Papadopoulos (The Trials of Apollo)

Oli/TheOrionSound (Empires SMP)

Bards with pictures and no propaganda:

Man with the Harmonica (Once Upon a Time in the West)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Classicaloid)

Kermit the Bard (Tales of Tinkerdee)

Franz Liszt (Classicaloid)

The Amazing Devil (Real Life)

Jareth the Goblin King (Labyrinth)

Alan-a-Dale (Robin Hood)

Tom Bombadil (The Lord of the Rings)

Starling Birdsong (Realm of the Elderlings)

Bards with propaganda and no pictures:

David Bowie (Real Life)

The Bard/Kiwi (Wandersong)

Daeron (The Silmarillion)

Callie Cuttlefish (Splatoon)

Finrod (The Silmarillion)

Apollo (Greek Mythology)

Bill Cypher (Gravity Falls)

Edgin Darvis (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves)

Dimentio (Super Paper Mario)

Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem (The Muppets)

Link (The Legend of Zelda)

Katalina (Tabletop Time)

“Weird Al” Yankovic (Real Life)

Dave BruBot/The Major Player (Toontown: Corporate Clash)

Carrie Wilson (Julie and the Phantoms)

Binary Bard (Poptropica)

Christian (Moulin Rouge)

Fflewddur Fflam (The Chronicles of Prydain)

Bard the Bowman (The Hobbit)

Leliana (Dragon Age)

Sprig Plantar (Amphibia)

Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer)

Neil Banging Out the Tunes (Tumblr)

The Muses (Disney Hercules)

Robinton (Pern)

Loquatius Seelie (Critical Role)

Megamind (Megamind)

Mettaton (Undertale)

Gamzee Makara (Homestuck)

William Shakespeare (Real Life)

William Shakespeare (Something Rotten)

Marceline the Vampire Queen (Adventure Time)

Brook (One Piece)

Sea Hawk (She-Ra and the Princess of Power)

Snufkin (Moomin)

Lias "Cliff" Bluestone (Discworld)

Rick Astley (Real Life)

Lúthien Tinúviel (The Silmarillion)

Roman Sanders (Sanders Sides)

Remus Sanders (Sanders Sides)

Bard (Crypt of the Necrodancer)

Kass (Legend of Zelda/Breath of the Wild)

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies)

Charlie Pace (Lost)

Gabrielle the Battling Bard (Xena: The Warrior Princess)

Haer'Dalis (Baldur's Gate)

Tsukasa Tenma (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage!)

Sylvando (Dragon Quest 11)

Jaskier/Dandelion (The Witcher)

Rocky (Lackadaisy)

Neil Ciciregea/Lemon Demon (Real Life)

The Pied Piper (The Pied Piper of Hamelin)

Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming)

Puss in Boots (Shrek)

Noise (Roleslaying with Roman)

Klavier Gavin (Ace Attorney)

Ron Stampler (Dungeons & Daddies)

Thancred Waters (Final Fantasy XIV)

Raine Whispers (The Owl House)

Jack Black (Real Life)

Scanlan Shorthalt (Critical Role)

DJ Cadence (Club Penguin)

Imp Y Celyn (Discworld)

Bard Otter (The Last Dragonlord)

Demyx (Kingdom Hearts)

Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan (Tales of Arcadia: Wizards)

Bilbo Baggins (The Hobbit)

Michael Jackson (Real Life)

Gurney Halleck (Dune)

Bards with neither:

Max Rebo (Star Wars)

Will Scarlet (Robin Hood)

Kvothe (The Kingkiller Chronicle)

Elan (Order of the Stick)

The Bard (Shovel Knight)

Kyoami/The Fool (Ran/King Lear)

Hannah Montana (Hannah Montana)

Thistle/Sissel (Delicious in Dungeon)

Cicero (Skyrim)

The Onceler (The Lorax)

Gerard Way (Real Life)

Frank Sinatra (Real Life)

Essi Daven (The Witcher)

Steven Universe (Steven Universe)

Miss Piggy (The Muppets)

Nyadas Okiro (Critical Role)

Kitagra (Kings of the Wyld)

Kaylie Shorthalt (Critical Role)

Father Gabriel (The Mission)

Steve McKenzie/Jester (Galavant)

Gieve (The Heroic Legend of Arslan)

Kubo (Kubo and the Two Strings)

Sir Robin's Minstrels (Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

Freddy Mercury (Real Life)

Rickety Stitch (Rickety Stitch and the Gelatinous Goo)

Éile (The Witcher: Blood Origin)

Bill & Ted (Bill & Ted)

Dorian Storm (Critical Role)

Maria von Trapp (The Sound of Music)

BMO (Adventure Time)

[Do note that some of these I will be able to easily find art for, just I haven't gotten around to doing it and nobody's submitted any]

#not a poll #sparkliest bard bracket #as always lemme know if you spot any typos/mistakes!!