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vintagediavolo · 5 years

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Liberation

“He’s been… unresponsive,” Tina informed him, slowly eating her way through a stack of fluffy pancakes Queenie prepared for breakfast. “He’s conscious, but won’t talk to anyone; not even look.” She was talking about Director Graves. Upon learning that Grindelwald disguised himself as the Auror, a frazzled President Picquery immediately ordered for a search party for the missing man, organising Aurors to search a multitude of areas, one of which included Graves’ apartment. Newt, surprisingly allowed to join the efforts, tagged along with Tina to the apartment a few blocks away from the Woolworth Building and searched every square inch of the space. He thought they came up short after the both of them found no traces of anything, but as he came to observe the living room from in front of a large mahogany bookshelf, he felt the telltale prickle of magic on the nape of his neck.

“Tina!” He yelled, drawing her from her second inspection of the kitchen to the living room where Newt stood, studying the shelves that were littered with magical items the Director came to collect through the years. “What?” She asked, coming to stand beside him and trying to see what he was seeing.

“Do you feel it?” He asked, running his long fingers over the top of one of the shelves, drawing it back dust-covered.

“Feel what?” Genuinely confused, she gave the bookshelf a once-over before watching as Newt began sifting through the books stored on it, reading the titles to himself as he skimmed over the spines.

“The magic…” he said, leaving the poor explanation at that. Before she could question him further, he found what he was looking for. “Aha, look here.” He was pointing at a blue, leather book on which the spine was written in silver lettering Magical Concealment Charms and Other Ways to Hide Your Belongings. “How inconspicuous,” Newt muttered to himself before plucking the book from the shelf, causing a loud grinding noise to come from the floor as the bookshelf began to sink beneath the floorboards.

“Maybe you should join the team, Newt.” Her words were half serious, but he only answered with a small smile. He’d never want to do that. Beyond the magical bookshelf lay a stone stairwell directed downward into a darkness that looked to swallow everything in its wake. “Go on,” she urged, unable to contain her anticipation at having a break in their arduous search. Withdrawing his wand, he wordlessly lit the tip and began his way down, careful in his footing so as not to tumble down the steep descent while Tina stayed close behind him with her own wand alight. They walked on for what felt like kilometres, making it obvious that this was work of powerful magic due to Graves’ apartment being located at the top of the apartment building (they would’ve passed through the apartments below if the stairs were corporeal).

When they finally hit level floor, the narrow walls opened up into a room composed of the same stone, and in the corner--he had to squint his eyes to see properly--sat a completely naked Percival Graves, hunched over on himself with limbs tied together and mouth gagged. He heard the sharp intake of breath from Tina, but he ignored it. “Stay here,” he quietly told her and she obeyed, halting in her steps as Newt moved further on.

“Mr. Graves?” He asked tentatively, voice lightly echoing off the walls and causing said man’s head to shoot up. His black, matted hair fell into his face and his dark eyes widened as he observed the unfamiliar man. Seeing every muscle on the man tense, he slowed in his advances, not wishing to make the man panic. He approached the situation as if he were coming upon an injured, scared creature. “I’m here to help you. Tina, a fellow MACUSA worker, is here, too. Do you remember her?” He asked, moving so that the woman was visible over his shoulder. She offered the man a kind expression, but he went right back to Newt since he was closer, and therefore more of a threat. “I’m here to help you,” he repeated, coming to a full stop a few feet away from him. “Can I?”

After a suffocating minute that felt like an hour, the man shakily nodded. Not any faster than before, Newt finally reached him and began muttering spells to rid the man of his restraints, and he watched as Graves gradually calmed down. Normally, this close of a proximity to any naked human being would’ve proved Newt gloriously embarrassed, but he ignored the warmth in his face for the Director’s sake, finishing the spells with one that removed the gag from his mouth. Reaching out, Graves jumped when Newt’s hand lightly caressed his cheek, but he whined and leaned into the soft touch, for he hadn’t had any positive human contact in--how long had he been down here? Time in the concrete box seemed to have been erased; he could’ve been there for a week or three months and it would’ve all felt the same. The last things he caught glimpse of before he lost consciousness were Newt’s comforting eyes and the soft, red hue of the man’s hair.

Newt sipped at the tea that was now a bit cold, cringing at the temperature as he took in what Tina told him. “Well, that’s not really surprising. What he went through was traumatising.” His own pancakes were only half-eaten, but his stomach was filled to the brim; Queenie had a penchant for making too much food. .

“I think you should visit him.” This surprised him, and he arched an eyebrow at her. Queenie, who sat unspeaking and in her own world, was humming some Muggle song to herself as she read through a magazine she had a subscription to.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she answered rather awkwardly while fiddling with her fork and accidentally getting syrup on her hand, causing her to grimace and to try to rub the sticky substance off with a napkin. “You were the one to find him.”

“What makes you think he’d talk to me because of that?”

“I… I don’t know, but it couldn’t hurt to try.” He couldn’t find an argument with that and so he agreed. It looked like he’d be visiting the hospital later.

***

Newt couldn’t remember the last time he was in a hospital, and now he remembered why he kept to staying away from them. There were so many people around him, all in various states of emotional disarray, and the place was just so… orderly and sterile that it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. A woman with massive, angry red boils on her face strode past him, and while glimpsing into a room to his right, he caught sight of a man with a large horn protruding from the centre of his forehead. Maybe orderly wasn’t the correct description. Politely excusing himself around the plenitude of nurses and doctors, he found his way to the correct area and followed the increasing numbers on the doors until he came to number 127--the room the receptionist at the front desk had told him Graves was residing in--and knocked thrice upon the wood before pushing it open.

The interior of the room was dark, for all of the curtains within it were drawn, blocking out the invading sunlight from outside. It was also completely silent, making the atmosphere within the room rather gloomy. Clutching his suitcase, which he brought with him for emotional support, he let himself look at the bed situated in the middle of the room. Graves was already looking at him and Tina’s words from that morning rang through his head; “He’s conscious, but won’t talk to anyone; not even look.”

“Hello… May I sit?” He asked, blushing at how awkward the words came out of his mouth and averting his eyes. He looked back long enough to see the man’s answer in the nod of his head and so, sitting in a chair beside the hospital bed, carried on looking everywhere but at the Director. Opening his mouth, he nearly asked the man how he was doing, but he squashed the idea as Graves had probably been tired of everyone asking him that same thing. Tapping his fingers against the top of his suitcase that was on his lap, he tried to find a rhythm that calmed him in any way so he could start a proper conversation.

Gazing at the man in the chair, Graves prevented any emotion in his expression, but his heart beat erratically at the presence of the man he was indebted to. His mop of red hair covered his face and his jerky movements portrayed his anxiety; the man was completely different than what he could remember when he released him from his bindings. Then, he was still gentle and timid, but he moved with a sort of purpose that set the man forward, but now that confidence seemed to have vanished, replaced with true apprehension. “Thank you.” His voice made him cringe, for it was exceptionally hoarse. The only times he used his voice in the weeks he spent contained were to scream under Grindelwald’s many Cruciatus curses; something the evil man told him he liked to do to relieve stress. He could remember and feel the grin the man had when he explained this to him. He worried for a moment that his words went unheard for they were so quiet, but the man’s head snapped up, blue eyes widened with shock at hearing him speak.

“You’re w-welcome,” Newt answered, genuine even through his stutter. Graves wanted to ask who he was, but the man shifted his gaze from him to his chest, making him look down to see what he was distracted by. Stood atop his sternum was a green, twig-like creature that stared up at him in fascination, clutching onto the blue fabric of his hospital gown. “Pickett!” Newt’s tone was reprimanding, and he stood from his chair to collect him, blushing a bit when his hands came in contact with Graves’ chest. “Right now is not the time.”

“What is that?” He asked, this time ignoring how weak he sounded. The man, who had stuffed the thing into a pocket inside his jacket, sat back down.

“One of my Bowtruckles. His name his Pickett.” The man sounded at ease at this topic, and so Graves used to this advantage and continued on it.

“One of? You have more?”

“Oh yes. The whole of this guy’s family is in my suitcase, but Pickett has separation issues,” he started, but then he returned to his guarded facade once more, making Graves a little sad. He wanted to speak more, but his throat had dried because of the exertion and so lifted himself an inch so he could turn and grab the cup of water on the bedside table; one of the nurses watching him had put it there earlier with a smile, saying that if he needed help to just say the word “auxilium”. Newt, who had straightened up in Graves’ movements, carefully watched him to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself. The bedridden man had to admit that these movements to just get his drink were tiring; every single muscle in his body felt sore as they moved, but he pushed forward and closed his trembling hand around the paper cup, careful in his pressure appliance so that he wouldn’t crush it.

The doctor had said that after enduring so much time under the Cruciatus curse, tremors and twitching were to be expected, but they worried that they might not cease. Graves desperately hoped they would, for now, as he struggled to maintain his grip on the cup, he felt entirely useless. How could he ever return to work if this never stopped? Slowly retreating his arm, he put his entire concentration in the control of his hand, eyes monitoring the water that sloshed dangerously close to the lip of the cup. He was successful until he started to raise his arm to bring the rim to his mouth, trembling worsening and the liquid starting to spill onto the front of him. Just this one loss of control unsettled the man deeply, and he just stared as the water continued to spill over. Before he could totally lose it, two warm hands enveloped his own, and looking up, he met his savior’s eyes where he expected to see some form of pity, but only one emotion shined through him; concern. Genuine concern.

This was the man that rescued him. “Come on,” he spoke softly, guiding the cup to his mouth and gradually lifting it so that the cool liquid spilled into his mouth, soothing his throat. When he had enough, he thrusted the empty cup into the man’s hands, too distraught by his own inability to do the simplest of things to go through the trouble again. Moving away momentarily, Newt set the cup back down before quickly returning to him. Graves didn’t realise he had begun crying until he felt the soft hands wiping away the moisture from his face. “It’s okay, Director.” The sureness in his voice made Graves break down further, clutching at the man’s wrists to keep his hands on his cheeks, because they were the only thing keeping him grounded. “You can cry.” Never in his life had someone said these words to him; his mother had passed away when he was young, leaving him with his strait-laced father who firmly believed a man should never cry, because that was a sign of weakness and there was no room for weakness within the Graves family’s only heir. But now, as he freely sobbed into this man’s chest, releasing all of the pain he had to contain not only from Grindelwald’s torture, but from his past years of life containing every ounce of trauma, he felt liberated.

When he had calmed himself down enough to pull away from the man, he finally asked who he was; who the man with shy smiles and hair the colour of fire, the man with the Bowtruckle and a mysterious suitcase, who the man who caressed him as if he were the most delicate being was.

“Newt Scamander,” the man answered with one of those shy smiles, and that’s all Graves needed to know.

Newt Scamander was his liberation.

Love, BelovedBey

#gramander #newt scamander #newt #scamander #percival graves #percival #graves #slash #fanfiction #fic #gay #comfort

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kenneth-omega · 5 years

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The Mistakes of Grief (part 3) Theseus Scamander x Reader

(Sorry for the unusually long A/N!)

A/N: Here is the third instalment of this on-going series! Don’t worry, this story is nowhere near done, with part 4 currently in the works! I couldn’t restrict this to only a three-part story and expect it to not feel rushed or crammed. So, I hope you enjoy this section and don’t get too tired of the few little POV jumps I have, I promise part 4 won’t have as many as these, I just find it makes the story work better and gives more depth for all the characters places in the plot. Also, I’m unsure whether the breakers I’ve put in before a POV hop will show up on mobile, so I apologise if it doesn’t work! x

If you’d like to be tagged in upcoming parts then just send me a message, or comment on any of the three instalments, that way I’ll definitely see it! x

Requests are open for any of the Fantastic Beasts characters!

Disclaimer: This only loosely follows the plot of FB:CoG so please don’t come after me because of inaccuracies. This is my own AU version.

Word count: 3894

Synopsis: You’ve allowed yourself to be roped into Grindelwald’s inner circle, fighting for your own cause whilst trying to also cope with the recent, muggle-related death of your brother. With Theseus and the others in London and you in Austria, Vinda Rosier’s plot to eliminate the people who stop you from wholly joining their cause is being put into place. Starting with a special announcement from Grindelwald and an open invitation.

Warnings: NONE, just some cute Newtina mentions

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Theseus couldn’t sleep.

For the sixth night in a row, everyone had fallen asleep before him and left him with his thoughts.

They were now staying at Newt’s house, with the group of remaining fighters having decided that they could no longer keep crowding up Nicholas Flamel’s house, despite his avid protests that he really didn’t mind.

Yusuf Kama, a wizard who Newt and Tina had encountered in Paris, had decided to stay a while longer with Flamel along with a young woman by the name of Nagini. She had revealed that she was a Maledictus and had nowhere to stay after fleeing the circus she’d been forced to perform in. She had been heartbroken after the rally, revealing that she’d been with Credence the past few months and had helped him through every problem he’d had, every ache and pain and the longing he’d had to find his lost family.

Newt of course, had shown an intense fascination in her ability to change into a gigantic snake, despite the sadness of her curse, and had asked if he could speak to her more about it at a later date, to which she had agreed.

The four people that had chosen to leave were himself, Newt, Porpentina Goldstein, or Tina as Newt referred to her as. The American Auror, and the Muggle Jacob Kowalski who Newt had managed to get caught up in his antics on his trip to America. Theseus had bitten his tongue about the numerous laws being broken about a Muggle having knowledge of their world, knowing that it would only fall on deaf ears.

Besides, Jacob himself wasn’t a bad man, Theseus had to admit, seeming genuinely interested and excited to learn anything wizard-related. Theseus had found himself on the receiving end of Jacob’s questions quite frequently the past few days.

Sitting up slowly from the sofa which Newt had offered him as a bed, Theseus ran his fingers through his curls which flopped down in front of his eyes. After the fight, Theseus had struggled to keep himself clean and well-groomed, all his usual quirks relating to his appearance had slowly deteriorated over the course of the week. He’d had to use a few spells recently to try keep himself looking presentable.

His usually pristine appearance was now dishevelled and crumpled.

Right now he was wearing a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the buttons undone. The absence of a tie and having untucked his shirt from his black slacks made him look like a dishevelled misfit student who refused to adhere to the dress code.

Much like Newt at school, he thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the number of letters sent from home, berating Newt for his detentions regarding his inability, or stubbornness, to dress himself to the code.

Theseus looked over at Jacob, who was currently sleep in an armchair, his head lolling back against the seat as he snored, a deep rumble that unfortunately didn’t help with Theseus’ current sleeping problem.

Tina was staying in Newt’s room, after initially refusing to take up that much space. This had resulted in quite possibly the politest argument Theseus had witnessed and the two of them butting heads for a good five minutes over whether she would sleep in there or not. Eventually Theseus had grown tired and made the decision for them.

His little brother was in the most obvious of places. Tending to his numerous beasts in his basement before eventually going to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

Picking up his pocket watch that lay on a small table beside the sofa, Theseus studied the watch face that informed him it was 4:32am. Newt would also be fast asleep by now.

Lying back down, Theseus stretched his arms experimentally, feeling how the ache in his shoulder protested at the movement. It still wasn’t truly healed; his shoulder having suffered from an injury from the albeit brief fight between you and him.

Ignoring the dull ache, Theseus hooked his hands behind his head and gazed up at the off-white ceiling for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The apartment was beyond warm and had there not been a woman staying in the house, Theseus wouldn’t have bothered wearing his shirt, but he found it extremely ungentlemanly to just parade around half dressed.

Giving into his exhaustion, Theseus settled finally, allowing his mind to wander back to the night when things went horribly wrong. When both he and Newt lost one of their closest friends. When a dozen Aurors died at Grindelwald’s hands and Theseus had watched helplessly as you slipped through his fingers.

Never again, he vowed. Never again would he let you go.

When the time came to rally up against Grindelwald once more, he was bringing you home.

“Queenie!” You exclaimed, upon entering the large gathering hall, glad to have found a friendly and familiar face. The exuberant blonde waved at you, standing up on the balls of her feet to find you over the heads of the dozens of people stood around, all talking amongst each other in hushed tones.

Merely a week after the rally, Grindelwald had called for his followers to come together and congregate at the castle.

He had an announcement.

Whatever it was, it was going to be big. Something considerably colossal in comparison to his stunt in Paris, and that idea terrified you greatly.

Upon your arrival, Queenie latched onto your arm with barely contained anticipation, looking towards the raised platform at the front of the room. You hazarded a guess that it was something originally used for entertainers who would come to perform for the residents of the castle.

Grindelwald hadn’t been seen much around the castle since the day you happened upon the man named Credence in that library. After you had left Queenie that morning, there had been a loud explosion and a minor panic amongst the occupants of the castle. Apparently it was just a rock slide, and surely enough when you looked out the window a large chunk of the mountain had disappeared, the rubble and dust settling into the valley below. But that didn’t explain the fact that you saw Rosier casting a fixing charm on one of the windows in the library.

The sound of cheers pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see the man who was feared by all but adored by many.

Neither you or Queenie cheered, instead waiting patiently for him to speak. You two were more than just his fanatics, more than this rabble of purebloods who thought themselves different and of some higher authority.

The man stood proudly in front of his audience, giving the slightest of bows as though he was preparing to deliver his own performance. He had the ambience of a bizarre conductor of sorts, about to lead you, his orchestra, into its next piece. His eyes scanned the crowd and found you, a smile on his face that oozed of something not wholly sincere. You couldn’t help but feel as though this speech wasn’t for anyone else in the room but you.

A direct message to you.

“Welcome, my children.” He began, sweeping an arm out across the room in a smooth, controlled motion, a greeting for all those before him.

Every single movement of his was calculated, planned and executed on key. He didn’t speak on improvisation, he didn’t act on instinct. He was tactical and shrewd.

“I’ve waited for this day for many years, when I could address a room full of the trustworthy and the loyal. To preach about why we are doing this. WhyIdo this.” He smiled, part of him relishing in all the eyes that were watching him, following his every move and drinking in every word.

“So…what do you believe I do this for?” Grindelwald paused, waiting for anyone to speak up who wished to do so. Nothing. Completely captivated.

It was almost too easy to manipulate their little, malleable minds, he thought to himself.

“Love.” A woman announced.

His eyes fell on Queenie, the origin of the voice that piped up and boldly was the first to do so. Everyone spun around to look at her, at the woman who had dared be the one to answer Grindelwald.

He nodded thoughtfully, remembering her sacrifice in Paris.

“Power!” A man shouted, which earnt some hollers of agreement. It took a few seconds for the noise to die down.

“Good suggestions, my passionate successors. However, not quite correct.”

Grindelwald walked across the platform towards the right edge, extending his hand to someone who had been hiding in the crowd up until now. Onto the stage stepped Credence, seemingly more confident than he had been a few days ago. He held his head high, his back no longer hunched in timidity. Queenie gasped. The crowd became rife with mutters. They were no strangers to the rumours.

When the two men had returned to Grindelwald’s original point, the ever-ominous man held the young boy’s hand aloft, fingers intertwined as if in a sense of solidarity.

“Equality.” He declared.

The room was deathly silent.

“Love and power are all aspects that I believe are needed to make the world equal,” He continued, “Muggles who seek to hate and destroy one another, they have to be eradicated.”

The threatening word hung in the air like poison.

Grindelwald continued his tirade. “For they do not know how to balance power with love. They greedily take one and spread that around as their slogan, something they believe justifies for their actions.” Grindelwald shook his head, seemingly disgusted at the thought.

You had to admit, everything he spoke of echoed with truth. You didn’t want Muggles gone, in fact you never saw them as anything less. But the ones who had taken what was not theirs to take? You couldn’t be so forgiving with them.

“Those wizards? The cowards, who hide behind their protective charms and push out anyone who speaks different?” Grindelwald released Credence’s hand, stepping to the front of the platform, the tips of his boots just hanging over the edge.

“Those who want to see us cowering in the shadows for centuries to come? We eradicate them too.”

Grindelwald turned to Credence, beckoning him forward before pulling him into an embrace. Credence lifted an arm and gently held him back, his face displaying that of someone impassioned by this small act of affection.

“You are equal, my boy.” Grindelwald whispered, still loud enough for the room to hear in the hushed room.

Grindelwald gestured for him to return to his original spot, his role in this sermon now fulfilled. Then he turned back to the crowd, arms raised up as though he were issuing a blessing on the room.

“We are going to demonstrate why we as wizards, as people, shall not be shunned into the dark. We will show the world…what we are!”

The cheers that began to rise slowly became deafening, as more and more the crowd became riled, their hatred, their adrenaline and bloodlust all tangible. You stood there, holding Queenie’s hand in the middle of the storm that was Grindelwald’s army.

Queenie was horrified, her gift allowing the voices of the minds around her to scream and fill her head with their personal turmoil. She couldn’t switch it off or block them out no matter what she did. You could only squeeze her hand in consolation adrift the raging waves of loathing.

“In three days’ time, I expect to see every single one of your faces.” Grindelwald’s accusing finger swept the room, lingering on you for a fraction of a second much to your discomfort. “Dress accordingly, my dears. For it is to be the funeral of discrimination!”

With those final words, he exited, the chorus of cheers and applause ringing in his ears.

He left, knowing that his work was done.

It was the eve of the demonstration and everything was in place.

Vinda Rosier stood back and admired her work from beneath her black cloche hat. The little trim of lace that came down across her eyes she had thought was a nice, if not slightly satiric, touch to her all black ensemble.

It was fitting for the occasion however.

After all, she thought, this was an execution.

With a small chuckle, she stalked out of the theatre and Disapparated. She only had one more job to fulfil for the night to be a success.

Theseus could hardly believe his ears when Newt announced that they had received a letter.

Not even ten seconds ago, there had been the sound of the letterbox rattling, an unusual noise for your average wizard, let alone his extreme introvert of a brother. So when Newt had summoned it from the living room where they were all occupying, the four people sat around were on tenterhooks.

“To the four occupiers currently inhabiting Mr Scamander’s residency,

Please note that you are cordially invited to the showing of Grindelwald’s Hinrichtung.

A once in a lifetime display and an opportunity not to be missed.

Simply tear up this letter and you will be transported to the host venue.

Dress code is compulsory.

Yours sincerely,

Vinda Rosier”

Newt read the small, daintily written letter out loud to the room, before passing it around for each person to read personally.

After Theseus had finished reading it, being the last to receive the letter from Jacob, Tina spoke up.

“It’s a trap.” She stated, no room for debate.

Theseus growled with frustration, standing up from his seat and stalking round the room, the letter still clutched firmly in his grasp.

Newt hummed in agreement with the woman sat next to him, picking at a new loose thread on his trousers, obviously something that had been done whilst he had been downstairs tending to his creatures.

Jacob spoke up, not wanting to dismiss the letter instantaneously. “Now hold on a second, Queenie could be there, at that hinrick…whatever.”

Tina sighed, knowing full well that her younger sister would definitely be there, but also being able to see that it was exactly for that reason they wouldn’t be going.

“That’s why we’re invited. Because the alluring possibility of our friends and partners being there is what they are counting on.” Tina argued, hoping to make it painfully clear that none of them would be attending.

Newt once again was in agreement, much to Theseus’ exasperation. Having had enough, he decided to speak up.

“Newt, you don’t get it, you have everyone you need right here.”

Que the incontrollable blushing from both Tina and Newt as they shifted awkwardly in their seats.

Theseus gestured to Jacob and himself, “Who have we got? Queenie left, Leta is-”

Newt stood up and was across the room in a flash, stood in front of his brother with such a fierce look of hurt and grief in his eyes that Theseus faltered in his rant.

“You and I both know that what happened that night was difficult to deal with, Theseus.” Newt not failing in noticing the guilt and hurt flash across his older brother’s face. “But don’t use her death as a reason for getting yourself killed. Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain, please.” He begged.

Theseus couldn’t stop the tear that fell down his face, the torment of such a loss still fresh in his heart. Without warning, Newt once again reached out and pulled him in for a hug. Theseus knew it was difficult and overwhelming for his little brother to be so forwardly affectionate, even towards family, and so he had quickly learnt to cherish the small moments like this.

“She’s out there, Newt. I have the opportunity to find her again. Don’t you remember the conversations we had as kids? How I used to get so delighted over something as little as her smile?”

Newt pulled away, a hint of a smile on his face as he recalled his older brother’s hopeless infatuation. He’d even spoke to Leta about it, the two of them having to listen to his paranoid rambling about unreciprocated feelings countless times growing up.

“I know this must be hard for you.” Newt didn’t fail to notice the way Theseus swiped the singular tear away quickly.

Theseus nodded, looking down at the scrunched-up letter in his hand, knowing that you were just a quick trip away made it so difficult for him to not just tear up the letter and be gone in a flash before they could stop him. But that was selfish of him to think of, and so he kept it firmly in his grasp.

Tina was the one to interrupt, still hoping to offer some reasonable advice.

“This doesn’t change the fact that it’s still incredibly risky, we can’t go and possibly risk our lives or theirs.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone weighed up the possible ramifications in their heads, until Newt spoke up.

“Tina, you stay here with Jacob, Theseus and I will go get the girls.” Newt suggested.

Tina and Jacob stood up in a flash, their expressions both mirroring the same expression.

Not a chance, Scamander.

Despite how humorous the moment was, Theseus knew it wasn’t the time to joke and instead shook his head firmly, siding with the other two’s obvious objections. He wasn’t willing to put his baby brother in harm’s way. He wouldn’t lose anyone else this week.

“You’re needed here, to look after your creatures and protect Tina and Jacob.” Theseus stated bluntly.

Newt began to argue, “Bunty can lo-“

“No!” Theseus snapped, silencing the younger man instantly. “Newt, if you’ve ever respected me as a someone who works in the Ministry, or listened to me as your brother, you have stay here.”

Theseus gently but firmly held his brother by his shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay, or in the name of Merlin, not even Dumbledore will be able to stop me from reprimanding your stubborn ass.”

Jacob couldn’t supress the loud laugh that erupted at Theseus’ final remark. Even Tina hid her mouth with her hand so that Newt wouldn’t see the small smile that she was wearing. Newt’s face went a deep red as he flushed with embarrassment and horror at Theseus’ light threat.

A bit of light relief in such dark times was something that they were all grateful for.

Newt begrudgingly made his promise, allowing Theseus to finally let go of him and begin running around, grabbing his wand and anything else he thought he needed. He noticed your wand sat on the table, having retrieved it from his coat pocket after the fight, and picked it up to take with him.

“Multicorfors.” He muttered, pointing his wand at himself.

His crumpled shirt changed to a tight-fitting, jet-black dress shirt, with a light grey tie sliding around his neck and fashioning a traditional Windsor knot. His trousers pressed themselves to be clean and crisp once more, and with a final flick of his wand, his unruly waves styled themselves into his usual slicked back do.

Jacob gave him the thumbs up, an idiotically cheesy grin that Theseus couldn’t help but find contagious, making him involuntarily mirror the amusing Muggle.

“Why the all black ensemble?” Tina questioned, her expression perplexed.

Theseus couldn’t stop himself from laughing, albeit sounding slightly harsher than normal, as this really was no laughing matter.

“Hinrichtung is German for execution.”

“I don’t like this Queenie, I haven’t even got a wand to protect myself.” You hissed, stood by the steps of the stage with the ever-beautiful blonde, facing out towards the room. She too was dressed in black as was requested, but with a dark pink accents on her dress and the fascinator that dipped to cover her right eye. She held her wand between her fingers and was unconsciously twirling it, her nerves betraying her cool expression.

You couldn’t help but fiddle with the hem of your outfit as you watched more wizards file into the room.

Your clothes had been presented to you by Rosier earlier this evening, in a posh, designer box with paper wrapped around them for protection. It was an unusual ensemble, despite its obvious elegance.

Long and flowing black trousers that skimmed the floor, a black cotton shirt with a scooped neck and last of all a cloak.

Made of the softest velvet and lined with silk inside, it was rather heavy on your shoulders and felt like more of a restraint than a fashion piece. It had a hood, but you had opted to keep it down.

The theatre you were stood in was breath-taking, the ceiling having been hand-painted with a mural on the domed roof, angels and deities carved into the walls and supports around the room. There was gilding everywhere, on the railings of the higher tiers, around the stage and even on the seats. It truly was a thing of beauty.

You had arrived merely ten minutes ago, but already the spacious theatre was almost bursting at the seams with onlookers and fanatics, purebloods alike all under one roof and dressed in varying states of fashion and wealth, but all were clothed in primarily black.

Turning your head, you spotted the familiar faces of Carrow and Abernathy, the latter being up on stage observing out from where he was hiding in the wings, whilst the former stood at the opposite end of the room to you and Queenie, guarding the other set of stairs.

No sign of Rosier or Grindelwald.

Credence was not in attendance tonight, Queenie had told you, for what reason you didn’t know. But it had put you at unease.

As the doors at the back of the main room shut with a loud bang, the lights were cut, a few of the audience members’ cries of shock echoing out as the chatter died down instantaneously.

You could hear the sound of boots clicking against varnished wood resonating behind your head, and you knew someone was walking onstage under cover of the darkness.

Then, there was light.

A bright, white orb that flew outwards from the stage, levitating high above the crowds with a brilliant shine that illuminated the room, casting numerous eerie shadows amongst them.

You gasped, your amazement of the iridescent glow catching you by surprise. You were not the only one to gasp however, as hundreds of wizards looked on at the scene before them. Turning yourself to look upon the stage, your heart stopped in horror, it’s rhythm faltering inside you as every sliver of air was sucked out of you instantly.

There stood Grindelwald, in all his unorthodox glory, his wand raised as he had been the one to conjure the light that now illuminated him and the guest he had dramatically revealed onstage.

Their arms were bound behind their back and ankles restrained by rope. The chair they were strapped to didn’t budge no matter how much they fought against it, obviously enchanted with a fixing charm to keep it securely on its legs.

But it wasn’t the pinioned limbs, or the sheer look of terror in their eyes that caught your attention, it was the fact that you knew him.

You knew that face…

And it filled you with fear.

Tag List:

@igotmadskills @velairena @nightskywriter @sleep-i-ness @dreacantsleep @brittanymcsharry @iamtheonewhocares @mystrade-shipper

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crewhonk · 6 years

Text

Papa Don’t Preach ii

Authors Note: I know i usually dont to these but you guys are the loves of my life! all 306 of you!!! MANY HUGS AND KISSES TO ALL. And see if yall can catch my Power Ranger references in this one!! :D

Words: 2,637

Summary: After a week of silence from Billy after the family dinner gone wrong, you confront him about it and talk it out like adults. He propses a crazy idea after a public fight with your dad, Chief Jim Hopper

Requested: HIGHLY REQUESTED GOD LOVE YOU ALL! If you want more, just lemme know!!!!

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

It had been an entire week since you had spoken to either Jim Hopper or Billy Hargrove. Jim had taken to grumbling around the cabin every night, and slamming doors and cracking a new beer every ten minutes. Eleven had been quiet, spending more time with the Party and up in your loft reading books and listening to you talk about your day at school and how Billy was. Eleven had developed quite the fascination with Billy, as they had similar experiences growing up. She and Max had spoken about him sparingly and without your friends true and undying support in your affections for Billy Hargrove, it had been nice growing closer to the younger girls who seemed to understand. You and Billy hadn’t been growing closer over the past week, however, and it had left you disgruntled (and almost offended) since you had been inseparable these past few months. It was a shock to your system not having him in your life as a constant, and it had been even more of a shock to you to have to ride in the backseat of Jonathan Byers car. The biggest shock, however, was watching Jonathan and Nancy interact with each other, and feeling nothing but resentment towards them for even the slightest actions (Nancy had brushed a piece of hair that was hanging in his face and you wanted to vomit, honestly) despite them being two of your closest friends.

So, here you were, staring at your locker at nothing but your thoughts and fiddling with the necklace Billy had given you one random day. He saw it on sale in some store downtown and when he had given it to you two weeks into your relationship he had mumbled something about ‘I don’t know. It reminded me of you— don’t make a big deal about it’. Since then you hadn’t taken it off- even when it left green marks around your neck, and even when the fake silver had made your chest break out in bumps. Your eyes flashed in sudden anger towards everything in your life, and your fist gripped your necklace before you slammed your locker door shut, calling the attention of a few passerby’s.

Including Carol and her gang.

“Trouble in paradise, Y/N?” She asked, smiling and brushing a piece of your hair over your shoulder and fiddling with your necklace.

“Last time I checked, it wasn’t any of your business.” You glared, and pushed past her. She grabbed your arm to spin you around and you ripped your arm out of her grasp.

“He’s beautiful in bed, Y/N, just in case you forgot.” Tina piped up from behind Carol, cackling before walking away. You shoved past Carol and Casey and wrapped your fist in her brown hair, pulling hard enough for Tina to spin and glare at you, raising her fist. Before she had a chance to hit you, you pulled your hand back and slapped her hard on the face.

“Did you just slap me?” She shrieked.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You replied before shoving her back into the lockers behind her. She let out a high-pitched scream that you could barely hear because your pulse was racing in your ears and your rage blocked most of your senses. You drew back a fist before bringing it down hard on her face and splitting her lip with the ring you had stolen from Billy’s makeshift vanity.

“Dont— you— ever— speak— about him— that way!” You yelled, punctuating every syllable with a punch or a slap to the face. Before you could damage her face any more, you felt yourself being heaved over someone’s shoulder. “Let me go!” You screeched, hitting the denim-clad back that you were faced with.

You fought and wriggled until you were put down on the grass but the parking lot. You were face-to-face with the bare chest clad with a virgin mary pendant. You glared up into the blue eyes of your boyfriend and pushed past him.

“Y/N lets talk.” He said, grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, not letting your run from him. You spun in his arms and slammed your palms against his chest.

“No! You don’t get to want to talk to me after avoiding me for a week. You don’t get to!” You yelled while hitting him over and over. He took his hands and wrapped them around your wrists. “You’re a dickhead, and I deserve better than someone who ignores me after one shitty date with my dad. My dad is mad at me too, thanks for asking. He’s not even speaking to me and all he does is drink and grumble and everything is shit right now. So, no. You don’t get to talk to me.” You cried, tears flowing from your eyes and running down your face. He removed his hands from your wrists and brushed them over your cheeks, wiping away the blush you had applied on your cheeks that morning. You slid your hands around his waist and under his denim jacket and cried into his chest. You cried for Billy, and your love for him and you cried for him because your dad didn’t see what you did.

What you saw in Billy was a beautiful star of a man. You saw someone who was filled with repressed potential, and you saw someone who compensated for their home life at school. You saw someone who loves chocolate milkshakes and Krispy Kreme coffee. He loved when you cooked your favorite greek chicken and was genuinely so excited the first time you made it. You saw someone who portrayed themselves as a dog person but melted whenever they saw a cat or kitten on the street. You saw someone who wanted to be a social worker. Someone who wanted to fight for children who showed up to school with bruises, or to fight for the women and men who had to put on makeup to hide the dark circles under their eyes. You saw someone who wanted to save people but hid that desire to be respected in their school community. You saw someone who was beaten and abused and manipulated by toxic masculinity and broken families. You saw an inherently flawed man who was the love of your life.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s go somewhere else.” He whispered in your ear. You felt his lips brush against your ear, and the closeness made you shiver.

“What about Max?” You mumbled, rubbing your nose into his shirt, and continuing to rest your head against his chest.

“She has Nerd Club tonight.”

“Be nice.” You warned. He laughed and grabbed your cheeks, bringing your face to his and pecking your lips softly and pulling you to his Camaro. His arm was wrapped around the back of your neck and you held the hand that was resting on your shoulder, fingers intertwining together. He opened the door for you to climb into his car and you curled up in the seat. He got into the car, started it and turned down the music until it was nearly inaudible. The crooning voice of Steven Tyler reached your ears and you wiped your eyes, blinking rapidly. He pulled out of the parking lot and tore down Main Street ignoring cars that honked and anyone who cursed his driving.

“Where do you wanna go?” He asked, resting his hand high on your thigh. You rested your hand on top of his and played with his fingers.

“I don’t care.” You sighed. He grunted lightly and drove down to a nearby lakeside. You both got out and you walked around to the front of the car to watch the small waves crash against the rocky shore. There was a small dock launch, and algae collecting around the pillars that held the dock up. You felt a tiny weight on your shoulders and looked down to see that Billy had draped his extra leather jacket around your shoulders. You hummed in thanks as he joined you on the hood of his car. He offered you a cigarette and you took it silently and leaned into the flame from his Zippo lighter.

“You can’t do that to me, you know. You can’t just stop talking to me.” You exhaled the smoke from your lungs and coughed at the scratchiness is left in your throat.

“I’m causing issues in your home life, baby. I can’t do that to you.” He replied, his voice strong.

“You don’t get to decide that shit alone anymore, Bill. We’re in a relationship that I know neither of us plans on leaving, so we need to start working as a team. There’s no ‘I’ anymore.” You replied, kicking rocks with the tip of your white (not really white. they were once upon a time) converse shoe. The wind blew both of your hair in your faces and you could smell the seaweed and fish living in the lake. The clouds were rolling in, promising a storm and despite knowing this, both of you had no intention of leaving this spot.

“I know. I’m scared of how much I love you, though. I want to take you away from that cabin, and from that asshole cop and I want to take you home to California where we can sit like this in front of an ocean instead of this shit pond.”

“He’s my dad, Billy. I can’t leave him. Not again— you know this. And Eleven would tear me a new one if I left her. She likes you by the way.” You tried to convince yourself. Truthfully, you had never felt welcome at Hoppers cabin and the only thing that chained you here was Eleven. You could feel Billy’s gaze on the side of your face, but you didn’t turn to get his gaze and instead, taking a long drag from your cig.

“Who? Jane?” You nodded in response. “What’s her deal, by the way?” He asked.

“Legally, I can’t tell you much, but she comes from a pretty bad place and was abused in every way imaginable. They didn’t teach her anything, so mentally she’s behind for her age. She’s smarter and stronger than everyone I know, though.” He only hummed in recognition of your statement and rubbed his cold nose with his sleeve.

The two of you stayed on the hood of his car until the sky darkened and thunder began rumbling in the distance. He drove you home soon after the first rain fell, and you two sat in the car, talking about nothing and letting conversations come and go naturally, comfortable silences lasting between each one. He drove back into Hawkins and pulled into the Benny’s Diner parking lot and you both laughed and ran into the building, using his jackets to avoid getting soaked by the March rain.

Your laughter died quickly, however when you saw Jim standing at the counter waiting for food to take home to you and Elle. He sent a hard glare towards Billy, before settling his eyes on you and motioning for you to come closer. You told Billy to go and find a booth before walking over to your dad and leaning on the fake marble countertop. He tapped his pack of cigarettes three times on the counter before turning to finally look at you. You saw the eyes of a genuinely worried father staring back at you and you just looked down at your fingernails in shame.

“Where’ve you been, Kid?” His voice had an underlying command that made you look up to meet his eyes.

“Down by the lake. I had a bad day today, and Billy was there to help me out.” You replied, trying to ignore the way your voice sounded a little too full of emotion. You expected many things when you would finally confront Jim about your situation, but being on the verge of tears after a two sentence conversation wasn’t on the list of things you had thought about.

“Eleven was wondering where you were. She’s worried.” He looked away from you and you watched his thick brow bone furrow in a little bit of frustration.

“Okay, so you weren’t worried? Good to know.” You rapped your knuckles twice on the counter and turned to walk away towards your boyfriend who was watching you and your dad protectively.

“Y/N, you know that’s not how I meant it.” He said sharply. You turned around to look at him slowly and clenched and unclenched your fists together.

“How did you mean it then?” You challenged.

“I meant it in the way that I’m not going to be around forever, and you are all Eleven has after I leave. You’re her family.”

“So what am I? Chopped liver, Dad? I’m your actual daughter! Or did you miss that wave when it washed over you? I get that Elev- Jane is your favorite, but I’m your actual skin and bones and blood and you’ve been treating me like the gum on the bottom of your shoe.” You growled at him, pointing at his feet and glaring hard.

“Y/N! Would you just listen to me!” He yelled. You were suddenly grateful that you, Billy, Jim and the chef were the only other ones in the diner. “You are a new thing to me! After Sarah died, your mom refused to let me talk to you and then all of a sudden, ten years later she throws you on my front doorstep without one word of explanation, and you’re suddenly expecting me to be a good father? I need time to deal with this too!”

“How do you think I feel, Jim?! My own mother abandoned me and made me move three states and expected me to live with an alcoholic of a father! I didn’t even get a chance to understand what was going on before it actually happened!” You said, angrily wiping away tears that had leaked from the corners of your eyes. “I get that shit’s hard for you right now, but you’re not the only one in this story!”

With this, you spun and fled the diner, not knowing where to go but knowing you needed to get out of that diner because suddenly the walls were closing in and the temperature was too hot for you. You ran out into the rain and stopped as the cold of the evening hit you. You tilted your head to the sky and took in a deep breath of fresh air. You jumped and were immediately pushed into fight mode when someone grabbed your hand and intertwined their fingers with yours. The scent of cheap cologne and cigarettes stopped you, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What do you expect me to say, Bill.” You whispered after a second. You were met by silence, and you let it draw out until you felt as if you were going to implode. You looked up at your boyfriend.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He mumbled, stepping closer and making you turn to face him. He cupped your jaw with one hand and gripped your hand tighter with the other. He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over yours. You could sense his hesitation.

“What is it?” You asked, stepping closer until your chest was pressed flat against his.

“I’m gonna say something crazy, and you’re not allowed to freak out.”

“After the day I’ve had, anything would be hard pressed to phase me,” You said, kissing his nose softly.

“Let’s go to California. Just for a trip. I mean, spring break is coming up soon, and we wouldn’t miss much school time, and I mean I’ve always wanted to bring you home and when we were at the beach I just wanted to see you in the sun and playing in the sand in a sexy little swim number and I know it’s a little too much to ask, but I’d really like for you to—“

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

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alphabees-writes · 4 years

Text

Glee - S1 E5 (The Rhodes Not Taken)

Time to swan-dive off of the pinnacle of season 1, head-first into... Whatever this is.

Here’s what you missed on: GLEE!

Oh yeah, invitationals are a thing right now. Can’t wait until those get scrapped.

The autotuning on Finn and Quinn right now is perhaps the worst in the series. Did they do that on purpose so that I’d miss Rachel? Because I don’t!

Santana making jokes about Kurt’s sexuality... Lmao we see right through you hon

“We may have to layer Santana and Mercedes over Quinn’s solo” or... If you KNOW they’ve got more powerful voices... Give one of THEM the solo???

“That Rachel chick makes me want to light myself on fire but she can sing” Is the truest thing Puck’s said up to now

“How about I give Tina a few of her verses?” AGAIN, WILLIAM, WE’VE JUST BEEN THROUGH THIS!

Sign #14 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Why start a glee club when you’ve got no sense of talent?

Good for Finn for telling Mr Schue to back the fuck off of his personal matters, for once

Terri’s stabbing that pie to an after-life death and she’s already had 2 slices and now she’s ordering another. Cravings are one thing but we all know that baby bump’s basically just a couch cushion? Honestly, props to her for being smart enough to own that situation

Sign #15 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: This dumbass guy straight up tells Mr Schue that he’s being held back in high school for YEARS just to stay in VA and his first thought ISN’T to tell somebody about it to inspect the situation. No, his first thought is, “how can I cheat like they are?”

Sign #16 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He told Emma about Quinn’s pregnancy, while rubbing his greasy hands all over her shoulders, with a big smile all over his face. Gross.

Sign #17 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Using Emma to manipulate Finn into prioritising glee over football??????

Nobody believes in the talent of any of these kids who aren’t Rachel and it makes me so god damn sad

This Jacob-interviewing-Rachel scene did NOT age well. Although it’s definitely meant to be creepy...

Why did I never notice how fucked up this scene is before? Jacob, IN FRONT OF SANDY, A STAFF MEMBER, tells Rachel she’s got to strip to get a good review. And then he just... Starts talking about horse dicks...???? Hello? 2009????

How did Finn know Rachel would be in this random classroom

Finn’s a dick for using Rachel’s feelings to manipulate her here. But the thing is, with this season, they’re all still somewhat sympathetic... I still like all of these characters. I hate Rachel, even though I like her, because her entitled attitude makes sense. Finn being so desperate to get Rachel back in glee that he’ll go about it an underhanded way makes sense!

That being said, the chemistry’s real here

Sign #18 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Putting Emma’s job at risk to dig up April’s files just because he knows he can. Using her feelings against her! Is that the theme for this episode? Boooo

What is Ryan Murphy’s fascination with Andrew Cunanan? ...Also, I love that in the universe of glee, there’s a loose implication that Emma Pilsbury is distantly responsible for the death of Gianna Versace. That’s some worldbuilding right there...

Playing Heart Of Glass in the background here is a damn crime, because you know that was a cover just begging to be Quinn Fabray’d...

KRISTIN CHENOWETH!!!!! I don’t care how much they paid her for this, it wasn’t enough

Sign #19 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: When April very blatantly implies that she’s an escort, and expecting for them to sleep together, he says nothing. Wonderful marriage you got there, Will!

Sign #20 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He doesn’t care about the actual wellbeing of the glee kids, and he doesn’t care about April’s struggles, or helping her recover. If he did, he wouldn’t invite her to school without a second thought! She literally doesn’t have a HOME, dude!

All the kids are immediately uncomfortable. Don’t do this to them!!!

Kurt’s genuinely wearing a shirt/blazer combo right now that I swear to god I’ve seen my grandma rock. I wish I was kidding

Cool time to cry while Lea and Kristin both destroy Maybe This Time! Kristin gives it far more depth though, can’t lie. Chills chills chills chills!!!!!

UGH. The way April stops her performance, the lights around her fades, she comes back to reality and you can just feel her realising how badly she’s missed singing... Why did this show have to hire such an icon for such a tiny roll!!!

I’d cry too, Kurt. I’d cry too...

Is huffing upholstery cleaner a real thing? I mean, she says it was the 90′s. Anything’s possible...

Sign #21That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Once he’s forced to come to terms with the fact that April makes the kids uncomfortable, does he ask her to leave them be? No. He tells her to convince them that, yes, they should adore this random woman he pulled off of the streets to take their solos...

And she starts by boozing up Kurt. Leave him alone!!! He doesn’t want to drink his aunt Mildred! His face when he says “that’s fantastic...” is priceless. He’s so naive. Somebody protect him.

Kurt can’t really be into the old-ass dude on that muscle mag cover. And he can’t honestly be walking around with it exposed to the world can he? HIDE YOUR PORN!!!

I forgot about this smuggling scene... Oh my god. She legit sent Tina and Mercedes on a thieving rampage huh!

Tina’s face when she looks at Mercedes... Priceless. I adore her.

And then... The shower scene. Right. ._. I knew there was a reason I really didn’t like April. They’re kids!!!

Sandy sucks. That’s all I have to say about that.

I love that bowling is Finn’s personal remedy for all of life’s stress.

Sign #22 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: The smug look he gives Rachel when he tells her, without actually acknowledging her, that April’s got her part now. He’s clearly rubbing it in, and pretending he’s “excited” to see the play is a load of shit! He’s really SMIRKING because he just upset a teenage girl!

I know we need to let the audience know that Kurt’s drinking a little too much too fast, but he looks like he got that suit from a homeless man who’s twice his size in a fight, which he lost...

“Oh, Bambi... I cried so hard when those hunters shot your mommy........[VIOLENT RETCHING]”

Sign #23 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: April is the only person who could’ve gotten Kurt that drunk and they all know it. That should be enough for him to turn her out the door, at the very least until she’s sobered up completely!!! “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to him.” Talk to HER first, fuckwit!

Good on Emma for telling him like it fucking is. They’re here to help the kids, that’s that. Why doesn’t he fucking listen?

How is Sandy getting away with just bullying Rachel like this??? She’s a TEENAGER. How has nobody filed a fucking complaint???

April just unabashedly thirsting over high-schoolers in the bathroom? Hello?

Rachel tells it like it is. April’s just fucking things up and she knows it! And now she’s one nudge closer to realising she actually cares about her friends, so that’s nice

“Do I have to put my fingers in the holes?” Wanky

She’s really cosplaying as a sailor for her bowling date with Finn, huh?

I hate how cute Finn and Rachel are here even though I know he’s playing her for her talent...

I want to say “Why are Will and April having such a serious conversation in a BOWLING ALLEY?” But I can buy that she’d only agree to talk if they could do it there

Ok, nope, Will’s just said “I brought you here because I need to talk to you” so he picked the bowling alley. Who the fuck stages a one-man intervention in the middle of a bowling match?

Kristin plays a very convincing addict pretending to agree with an intervention just because the intervention hurts

Seeing her get all emotional at how much Will looked up to her is really making me feel... God damn the talent on this woman

I don’t want to enjoy anything Will Schuester does, but Kristin elevates any cover she touches automatically, so yeah, I love listening to them do Alone. Matt Morrison’s lip-syncing is suuuuuuper off though...

I can physically feel the hold Finn’s got on Rachel’s heart right now. God damn. Also, he’s a bastard for leading her on like this.

The glee kids are all a bunch of dumbies if they can’t tell Quinn’s pregananant and I love them for it. “Lactose intolerant” ??? Really, Kurt?

“I bet you thought Bert and Ernie were just roommates” Puck, at it again with the lines

Kurt’s so excited about the drama? I wonder if it’s because he thinks Finn will leave Quinn because of the baby, like, c’mon he’s got more decency than that

Finn deadass APPLIED for a scholarship? Does anybody else remember this because I sure as hell don’t? I’m pretty sure they never mention it again!!!

Rachel SLAPS THE SHIT out of Finn and nobody so much as looks their way? Not even when she’s yelling at him in the middle of the halls? Ok RIB

“I haven’t been totally honest with you but that’s different from lying” Is it. Finn? Is it...?

Honestly, I can’t blame Rachel for leaving glee now. Me too sis.

Oh my god Sue’s taking down a glee flyer but puts it back up the second she sees Rachel... Priceless

Did Sue just... Technically give Rachel the position of arts administrator?

I love seeing all the glee kids in their cowboy digs. Kurt and Finn are nailing those hats.

Sign #24 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He watches April literally KISS Puck and doesn’t immediately kick her out??? HELLO???

Sign #25 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Emma tells Will that April was 1) drunk driving and 2) nearly RAN! HER! OVER! In the parking lot! And he still lets her go on for a number! What the FUCK!

Netflix subtitles are describing Figgins as “EMCEE” but... We know who he is!

I don’t know my last name either, April... I really don’t.

I hate how genuinely into the cowboy outfits I am. They’re all so cute??? ESPECIALLY Quinn. And Kurt. And Brittany. Be still my pansexual heart

For a second I thought Finn was doing the royal wave, like wow, how much time have you spent with Kurt, my guy???

Oh, NOW Will’s stopping her? Yeah, you’re such a hero. Just about a week too late.

April really breaks my heart here. For now, she’s a real sweetheart... “You won’t let what happened to me ever happen to any of them” OUCHIE...

Sign #26 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Once he’s done with April, he just completely gives up trying to help her at all

They’re all so cute, getting ready for the next act and bonding... Kurt’s doing Santana’s make up and she’s smiling at him, Quinn’s doing Finn’s tie, Tina and Mercedes are just giggling together... Pure.

At least Mr Schue has the decency to admit that he screwed up by bringing April into the club.

Rachel ex Machina!!!

“I realised being a star doesn’t make me feel as special as being your friend,” she says, before forgetting that lesson for several seasons

Why do they have a costume set aside for Rachel? They didn’t start planning this until after Rachel quit, I don’t think?

AMBER! SMASHING! THAT! NOTE!!!

Oh shit, Artie does play the guitar more than once. Look at him go!

So, there’s an episode. April certainly isn’t my favourite guest star character, but Kristin Chenoweth does the absolute most. Always.

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