#i am once again thinking about how genuinely good hearted molly is and i love it

[halstead4l]

I Miss You, I'm Sorry (Part 2)

I’ve officially been in Chicago for a week. I still haven’t been to the district as I have been spending this first week back getting organized and settled in a new apartment-again. I feel good about everything again.

It’s a Friday night, so there’s no better way to then celebrate a good unboxing and move at the one and only, Molly’s.

Sitting at Molly’s being welcomed back by Hermann, he’s already told me that all my drinks are on the house. 

“So, you ready to kick ass in Chicago again?” Hermann asks. I sip my beer.

“Come on Hermann, you know I am! D.C. was nice and all, but I’m not meant to sit behind a desk and fill out paperwork.” I tell him, smiling and taking another swig of my beer.

“You ready to see everyone?”

All I do is nod my head, showing a genuine smile.

“Well, well, well! Look what the cat dragged in! Only the best Intelligence Unit in Chicago!” Hermann greeted Antonio, Kim, Adam, Alvin, Voight, and Kevin. The only two missing were Erin and Jay. I could feel my heart sink. I guess that’s what I not only get but deserve too.

Everyone was shocked once they saw me. I was instantly greeted with hugs, a few squeals from Kim, kisses on my head and cheeks, and all smiles. I didn’t let my sadness show once I realized Jay was probably with Erin-it was expected and I was told that they would be each other’s new partner. Too, everyone loves Jay, he’s just that guy, THE guy. 

“Alright, hey!” Hermann got our attention. “First round is on me for you guys, as a Welcome Back, Welcome Home (Y/N) but then, you’ll have to pay up! (Y/N) is covered for the night…understood?” Hermann tells us.

We all understood, starting our night out.

I walk over to Kim, Antonio, and Adam, pulling Kim aside.

“Hey, have you heard from Jay? Or Erin?” I ask her.

“Uh, Adam heard from him a few minutes ago. He said he’d be in a few minutes.” Kim reassured me. She could tell I was letting my emotions get the best of me. I missed Jay.

Minutes go by and everyone turns towards the door. There he is. Jay Halstead. I just look at him, taking everything in, emotions high. Erin is following close behind him, looks like they are finishing up a story; maybe about a case they recently closed or their upcoming schedules or plans.

I’m sitting on the inside of the table. Kim sitting next to me, Adam and Antonio sitting across from us. He doesn’t notice me, but I see him kiss the top of Erin’s head as she makes her way to our table and Jay heads to the bar. That was all it took. My heart shattered.

“Oh my gosh! (Y/N)! Hi! What are you doing back here?!” Erin asks me, hugging me.

I hug her back, “I am back in town! For good. I start with Intelligence again on Monday!” I tell her, smiling. 

I see a tall, dark, handsome boy, heading for our table. Two beers in hand. It takes him a minute to notice but, he does. He’s shocked. I know him well enough, like the back of my hand, to know that his emotions are running at 100 miles/minute. The love, the hurt, the laughs, memories, heartbreak. All of it.

“(Y/N) …” is all he can manage to say to me.

“Hi Jay…” was all I could manage to get out, finishing the last sip of my beer.

Intelligence could tell there was some catching up to do so, they left us alone at the table. Erin squeezed Jay’s shoulder, walking away with the rest of the group.

“How…how have you been? How was D.C.?” He asked me.

It takes me a second to gather my thoughts because even though D.C. was good to me, I thought of Chicago and my people the entire time.

“D.C. treated me good, well. I missed Chicago and all of you guys the entire time though.” I told him, honestly, looking up at him.

“What brought you back home?”

“I told you. I missed all of you and Chicago. Besides, I think I’ve busted my ass enough to do more than just sit at a desk, filling out paperwork.” I tell him, showing a small smile. “Enough of me…how are you” I ask him.

He takes a sip of his beer, not breaking eye contact. “You know how I am. I’m always good. Keeping my head down in work, kicking it here at Molly’s, sports.” He tells me.

“And how is everything with Erin?”

“What do you mean? We’ve been partners.” He looks at me, confused.

“Oh, come on…I saw her squeeze your shoulder when she walked away AND when you guys walked in, before you went to the bar, you kissed her on the head. Partners don’t do that; boyfriend and girlfriends do that. You’re not as slick as you think you are anymore.” I tell him, taking another sip of my beer, preparing for my heart to shatter even more.

He coughs, clearing his throat, not knowing I saw what I saw earlier.

“Uhm, yeah. We’ve been together for a couple of months now. Three, almost four.”

I could tell that that was hard from him to tell me. I could tell that he didn’t want to tell me. He didn’t want to hurt me. It did hurt but, I deserve it. I left him, the both of us heartbroken.

I slowly nod my head. Thinking. I take another sip of my beer and push it away.

“Good, good! I’m glad you’re happy and doing well.” I tell him, faking a smile. “Well, on that note, I think I’m going to call it a night.” I tell him, slowly getting up from the small table. 

“(Y/N) … Jay calls after me.

I smile, walking away, walking to the group.

“Alright you guys, I’m headed out, calling it a night.” I tell everyone, getting hugs from everyone. “I’ll see you boys and girls on Monday morning.” I tell him, smiling, and hitting Antonio’s shoulder as I make my way past them.

I can feel the tears threatening to spill. I turn back around once more, at him. He’s looking at me. I nod my head and walk out the door, into the cold Chicago air, a tear sliding down my cheek.

It’s not long before I hear Molly’s door swing open, letting the music blast outside for a second or so. I don’t turn around, but I notice the voice.

“Why did you really come back to Chicago? Why?”

Jay.

I gulp before turning around. 

“I told you already…”

“That might be true, and I do believe you but, what’s the real reason (Y/N)?”

I feel a few tears slip. I quickly wipe them away.

“I wanted my life back. I wanted to work with the people that mean the absolute most to me. Chicago is where I made myself, it’s where I grew up. It’s where I met you. It’s where I fell in utterly, complete love with you. It’s where you are.” I get out, not holding anything back.

Before he can say anything else, I finish my thoughts, my truth.

“I’m still in utter, complete love with you. I never wanted to leave you. I hate that I left you the way that I did. Quick, short notice.”

The more I ramble on, the more I feel more tears threatening to spill. Jay doesn’t say anything, yet. I just suddenly feel his embrace, his warmth.

“I miss you, I’m sorry.” The last thing I say before I hug him back, letting the tears fall. Catching my breath. 

#jay halstead #chicago pd #chicago #fanfic #halstead #jay #requests open #dms open #anon ask #flood my inbox #Spotify

[dent-de-leon]

Leo ur tags on the horror/erotica post, I am FERAL

Oh thanks! That post more so got me thinking of horror and romance, but yeah the fact that Taliesin built Mollymauk around the concept of being a Romantic and how so many aspects of that are reflected in this dark mirror as Lucien…

Molly the romantic, the dreamer, worshipping the goddess of love under the moonlight—singing songs of romance and tragedy and holding onto stories of a king so beloved by his people he returned to them from the dead.

Lucien who dreams so deeply he built an entire cult around the manifestation of dreams—so lost in the pretty ideal of a family living happily ever after that he’s willing to throw away everything else that matters. Clinging desperately to childhood stories, to the promise of, “once upon a time.” And it’s Mollymauk who calls him out on it, who recognizes where he lost his way. “Killing for a dream. Are you too dense to see the irony?”

Lucien romanizes the life he used to know, the precious few happy memories of putting on a performance, a play, pretending their little life of songs and stories could go on in the caravan forever, “…we children would put on little plays. Little to others, I suppose, but grand to us. Yes, grand.” Trying so hard to believe that that if he could do it all over again, make things “right,” that this time he and his siblings could have the life they always wanted. That his parents would truly love them. Thinking of how Lucien fixates on Elric being the “favorite,” unable to come to terms with the fact that his parents abused him as well, that even the “good” times are colored by his parents’ manipulation and violence. That there’s no reality where they wouldn’t sell out Lucien to a hag at the first chance—

Lucien believing so much, in dreams and fate, in false gods and love. In a family that would never welcome him home.

And he believes, in the very end, in the Mighty Nein—just for a moment. Just enough to let Molly take his hand. He was genuinely so lonely, so desperate to connect, and I think the Somnovum fed on that. Their hunger to devour everyone and everything—the way Lucien keeps trying to take control of the Nein, to become “one” with them.“If you’re certain, make contact and talk all you like…Come, it’s far prettier up here.” “We welcome you. I welcome you. This is so incredible.” “I wish I could share it, but there’s…Well, you’d need to be with us.”

Molly’s love for the Nein and his loneliness, the longing ache to not be alone or Empty anymore—how it manifests as Lucien trying to possess the Nein and become a part of him, still craving love and connection and tearing himself apart as this fallen god who could have the world at his feet and is still just the lonely child holding onto fairytales. Becoming one with a city of other caged, lost souls.

The way Lucien dismisses Molly as someone who could never understand him, who has never seen all the ugliness of the world like him. But he does, he feels it more than Lucien could ever know. “I know what the others think, but the truth is…how do I put this…The world is harsh and cruel, and I don’t seem to be able to just walk on by. You see a wrong? You fix it.”

Molly is a romantic because he fell in love with the world and found joy in spite of all that—because he believes there are people like the Nein worth loving and protecting, worth bleeding out his own heart for. Lucien is a romantic because he believes he’s fated to “fix” the whole “broken” world, even as he destroys everything about it him and Molly always loved—

[tobythenewt]

this is full of spoilers. (crimson rivers!!)

just wanted to post my bookmark notes on this because its the longest one i've ever written - and it's mainly just things that stood out to me, and has so many spoilers so warning!!!

This was actually one of the most amazing fics ive ever read - every single detail was perfect. I hardly even have the words to talk about how beautiful it was because it was so very lovely and I think it's genuinely one of those things that's changed me forever.

starting from the beginning, evan and his death and how even though regulus and evan didn't know each other for long, evan was such an important person in his life and helped him through so many hardships. The full circle at the end was fucking beautiful as well. The scene where regulus tips himself into the river and is ready to die, while james is ready to drink the poison. that was fucking amazing.

Pandora and Dorcas the whole way through were amazing - just a side note. Remus and sirius' whole relationship was so beautiful, remus learning how to be himself and to be free again, sirius learning how to be true to himself and be more present and all of that. omfg.

before we move on, the whole entire devastation that circled regulus and james' relationship while they were fully just a symbol to the hallow. I cannot describe the amount of pain that brought me.

The second round of the hunger games. fuck me, man. sirius once again volunteering and regulus going in anyway when he volunteers for james. goddamn. That whole part where regulus keeps saying to james "everything I do in the arena is for you, james" like I cannot do that. His whole plot of getting sirius to kill him so james would have sirius and sirius would be able to live. regulus' whole plotline is so fucking devastating but i am so glad he got a happy ending. WITH THE BOOKSHELF AND DANCING IN THE FIRELIGHT. sobbing. also that scene where sirius realises and HAS ALMOST KILLED HIM. yep that one broke me.

another quick mention to all the times sirius slipped away into his own head and remus knew and took care of him, even in the wedding? cutest thing ever.

oh my goodness, when remus and regulus were in the Phoenix and james and sirius weren't there, heartbreaking at all times.

AND IN THAT WHOLE SECTION OMFG: monty and regulus' relationship was so fucking adorable the entire time, they were so lovely together and no death hurt me more than monty's im not even joking. and also regulus and aberforth's relationship and hatred for each other deserves a mention because that was amazingly written and was such a parallel i don't know how to describe it.

The war. there was so much going on during this time. rescuing james and sirius was amazing, sirius and remus' little spat after sirius hurt him was painful but so well done I am so glad it was there, plus remus being the cure to the biological warfare was amazing too.

briefly - I thought both effie and monty died pretty early on and that was painful!! plus when we didn't know that riddle was killing the officials, pandora's death hit me so hard.

Oh my fucking god. barty's death. he was second on the painful scale after monty because honestly, he was such an amazing character with regulus and I loved their dynamic with everything i have. I remember reading that his arm got torn off and i was on the EDGE OF MY SEAT. then i was like PHEW ! the hallows are pulling through and then they all got mowed down and regulus laid next to barty, finding comfort in his heartbeat until the consistency they'd always had broke when his heart stopped. fucking goddamn. that was so fucking sad.

okay post war now, i don't want to think about that again. quick shout out to molly and arthur for shocking everyone with their billions of kids. dorcus' grief for marlene was one of the hardest chapters i've ever read. how she was stuck in such an awful place, then went home, to cordie, then turned to alcohol. honestly that's all i can say there because it was so fucking painful. then she went to minnie and poppy, dried out, learned to live without and accept life without marlene, and ended up being amazing and running the foster place!

also! sirius telling dorcas marlene was going to propose was devastation but beauty all at once. ALSO I LOVE LYALL AND SIRIUS' DYNAMIC ABSOLUTE FAVES FR. also stella, everyone's emotional support dog, is amazing love her. I love the kids as well, im running out of space to write things to be honest, but teddy's character, though short, was fucking amazingly written and I love how it was done.

Also regulus accidentally falling in love w marcel and malcom when baby sitting? fave as well. oh my god i haven't said anything about mary and lily yet? i love those two with my whole heart, plus bingley is the cutest and everything about those three was amazingly written.

SIDE NOTE: sirius proposing to remus with a spoon. love that so much and the whole meaning behind all of it omfg.

OKAY LAST THING. sybill and king. that was so fucking heartbreaking honestly because they were made for each other here, and the way that king never really came back to everyone? parallels between king and dorcas break my heart. i loved this <3

#crimson rivers #by zeppazariel #ao3 #james potter #remus lupin #marauders #sirius black #marauders era #dead gay wizards #sirius and james #sirius x remus #marauders fanfiction #jegulus #wolfstar #regulus black #regulus and james #james x regulus #hunger games #the hunger games #zeppazariel #the marauders #remus and regulus #remus and sirius #james and regulus #james and remus #it hurts #why does it hurt so bad #marauders fic #ow #i am in pain

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter

Chapter 5

Author’s note: I use Grammarly to fix my mistakes, but there could still be some so sorry for that. Also, I am getting back into writing and am hoping to have a few more works out soon! Please reblog, like, or comment feedback is appreciated.

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: None? Sirius being a d*ck? Maybe language, but I don’t think so.

Regulus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stroked his niece's hair. He was mad at his brother for basically throwing away the only good thing that had ever come from the Black family. Sirius was too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of him. As children, Sirius often told Regulus that he was their family's favorite and that it bothered him, but if he knew what it was like to be less loved then how can he love Harry more than Ali? He understood that Harry was Sirius's Godson, but couldn’t he love Ali and Harry equally? If Sirius made the effort maybe Ali and the other children could even be friends. His heart ached from the emotional battle that Ali was going through right now. Even if Sirius didn’t see it, he and Remus did. Ali’s light was dimmer than before and when she was lighting up again after finding out Sirius never came for her, Sirius just had to go and snuffed it out.

Carefully sliding out from under Ali and placing a pillow under her head Regulus left the room. He shut the door behind him casting a locking spell so she wouldn’t be bothered. He needed to speak with Remus first before doing anything. They needed to decide what to do about Ali. As much as Regulus wanted to spend time with her before she went back to school he didn’t want her to be this upset anymore. He walked into the study to find Remus and Nymphadora sitting near the fireplace.

“How is she?” Nymphadora blurted the question as soon as she saw her cousin. Remus had owled her after Ali had gone to her room. The older sister in her wanted to go up to Sirius and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“She’s asleep for now. All the fighting has exhausted her. I honestly don’t know what to do. I want her here, this is her home, but if Sirius doesn’t stop acting like the brut that he is it is going to hurt her more. Speaking of Sirius, where is he? It’s quiet.” Regulus flopped down on the chair across from Remus and Nymphadora raking a hand through his hair. His worry for Ali was causing him a headache. On one hand, he wanted to send Ali to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the remainder of summer, but on the other, he wanted to hold her close and have her stay in her home where she belonged.

“Sirius left with Harry after you went upstairs. He hasn’t been home since. The Weasleys stepped out to Diagon Alley to get the kids stuff for school.” Remus replied. He was secretly thankful that the house was mainly empty. This way at least Ali could come down if she felt like it without the chance of someone bothering her. Remus was having the same thoughts as Regulus about keeping Ali at home virus's sending her to the Manor. He just wanted his niece to be happy. The hope that he had of Sirius and Ali having the father/daughter relationship was gone. If only Remus could get Sirius to open his eyes to the pain he was causing to the girl, but Sirius was nothing if not stubborn.

“I think I am going to write to Cissa and see if she can keep Ali for the rest of summer. If that’s what it takes for her to be happy then so be it. We can see her off at the -“

“I don’t want to leave,” Ali’s voice interrupted. “I want to stay here with you. Please don’t make me leave. I can handle it, I promise.”

Ali knew that she and Regulus were going to have to talk about the fact that she called him dad, but that was a private conversation. Right now she needed to convince the adults in the room that she didn’t need to leave. She could take Sirius. Yes the words that he had said hurt her and the actions he did tonight furthered that hurt in her heart, but she was done. She didn’t owe him anything, and it was clear she knew that he didn’t want to be her father. She had meant what she said to Regulus. He was her father in all the ways that counted. He loved her unconditionally, was always there for her, and protected her.

She went and sat on the couch in between Nymphadora and Remus who wrapped an arm around her pulling her close to his chest. “It might be best if you went and stayed for the rest of the summer at the Manor, Al. This isn’t good for you mentally. We all can see how drained you are.”

“No, this is my home. I can handle it. I have you all plus the older Weasleys and Fleur. You'll protect me and if I need to get away for a little bit I’ll owl Blaise or Draco to go to Diagon Alley or something. I want to spend time with you. Times are hard right now and you never know when you are going to lose someone and I would like to have as much time with each of you just in case.”

Regulus leaned forward taking Ali’s hand in his, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to happen to us. I love you more than you could ever imagine and if you want to stay here you can.” Ali smiles brightly at that before Regulus cut her off, “but you have to tell me, Remus, or Severus, if anything happens. And you have to come out of your room. I am not having you locking yourself away again. Got it?”

Ali pounced on Regulus, hugging his neck tight. She was excited to spend some more time with her family. She had meant what she said about never knowing when something was going to happen. Wizards had been disappearing all over London and she was genuinely scared something was going to happen to her loved ones. She was going to make it a point to take plenty of photos and make enough memories to last a lifetime the next couple of weeks.

Regulus held his niece tight, fighting back the tears when she whispered, “Thanks, Dad,” into his ear. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but this was one title he was going to wear proudly.

Remus’s voice interrupted the moment, “wait for a second, why are you going to owl Blaise? We have an agreement, young lady, no boys till you're thirty!”

Ali’s giggle was music to those in the room with her, and for the first time that summer they all saw Ali smile at home the brightest she had since everyone arrived.

————

The rest of the day was eventful which was something that everyone was thankful for. Nymphadora left shortly after spending some time with Ali since she had something to attend to with Moody, so that left Regulus, Ali, and Remus to watch the Star Wars movies in Ali’s room. Kreacher brought them snacks while they made a fort on the floor. Ali was incredibly content laying on the mounds of pillows in between her Uncles. When she was younger they would have movie nights like this once a month until she started Hogwarts. Even then she and her friends carried on the tradition in the boy's dorm since Draco was often present at the ones hosted at home. She wished that she could have Draco over now, but knew that if she brought him here then everyone in the house would throw a fit about it, maybe it was something to bring up to Regulus later.

Molly called them all down for dinner shortly after the second film ended. Leaving the mess on the floor the trio made their way downstairs with Ali trailing behind her Uncles. She could feel her nerves spike the closer she got to the dining room. She thought about excusing herself stating she wasn’t hungry, but the loud growl in her stomach gave her hunger away. Everyone had already sat down beside Harry and Sirius when they got into the room. Regulus pulled the seat out next to him for his niece. Fleur shot her a smile when she sat down by her uncle with Charlie on her other side. At least she was sitting near someone who didn’t hate her.

Chatter and the sounds of forks on plates filled the room as everyone got their fill of Molly’s meatballs and onion sauce. Everyone broke off into separate conversations. Remus, Regulus, and Arthur talking about the Ministry, the younger Weasleys, and Hermione talking about Quidditch, Bill and Fleur about their upcoming wedding, and Charlie and Ali talking about his work in Romania. “What are you planning on doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ali shot a glance over at Remus who was doing a terrible job of disguising his eavesdropping on the duo. “I am thinking about becoming a professor. I like creatures obviously so I was thinking something along those lines, but I also like Herbology. So maybe that. I just know I want to teach.”

Charlie shot her a grin. “Have you thought about where? I know Hogwarts has Sprout for Herbology and Hagrid was doing Care of Magical Creatures, but you still have three more years of school so maybe they’ll need someone by the time you're done.”

Ali shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she wanted to leave England and travel for a bit but knew that if she brought it up now it would be a fight or something so she bit her tongue. “Maybe.”

The noise came to a halt when the door slammed open in the living room. Everyone hopped to their feet, wands at the ready. It felt like hours had passed before the intruder walked through the door. “Sirius! Harry! Merlin, you scared us all.”

“Sorry, it’s raining hard and we were in a rush to get back home.” Sirius shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone retook their seats beside Milly who served Harry and Sirius. Ali tried her hardest to keep from looking at the latest duo that entered, not wanting to cause any more trouble or to give Sirius a reason to lash out at her.

Dinner passed rather quickly, conversations flowed in their small groups. Charlie had gone with Fleur and Bill on a scouting mission shortly after eating, while Fred and George worked on new products for their shop. Ali was in her head thinking about asking to go to meet Pansy in the coming days to look at a new book shop. Pansy wasn’t much of a reader but was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house. She was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up Molly was smiling softly at her while handing her a letter in a dark blue envelope. She instantly knew who the letter was from since only one person used that kind of envelope when writing her.

“This came for you, dear, when you were with your uncles. I didn't want to bother you then I almost forgot just now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Ali smiled at the kind woman. Despite her feelings towards most of the Weasley children, their parents were quite nice.

Molly patted her cheek before walking off. Ali started to rip the top off when she got Regulus’s eye and he winked at her. He knew who the letter was from having met the boy a few times already. Her cheeks flushed and continued to do so while reading it.

Dear Supernova,

I hope you are surviving the dreadfulness that is upon you right now with all the people in your house. Yes, Draco told me what was going on yesterday when I finally threatened to out his crush if he didn’t explain why we hadn’t been seeing you a lot this summer. I have to say I am quite hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. Best friends I thought. Just joking, but seriously you could have told me about him and I wouldn't have said a word to anyone.

I miss you, Supernova. We’ve only got to see each other once this summer and we both know when school starts you will have a book shoved in front of your face in the first three minutes. Could we get together sometime this week? It has been awful at home and if I have to hear Draco's voice one more time without you there to tell him off for being annoying I may throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Your uncle may not agree, but you could come to stay at mine for a night. Mother agreed to it as long as Regulus does and we have separate rooms. If you can't, maybe I can come to you? I don’t really care what the redheads have to say about me being there so don’t worry about that. We have much to catch up on; like the fact that you got Headgirl and also didn’t write and tell me. I had to find that little tidbit out from Parkinson's. Don’t worry we’ll catch up whether that's soon or on the train.

love,

Zabini

Ali felt a pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t meant to forget to fill Blaise in on her life but it had been so crazy recently she hadn’t got to write anyone much. In all the truth no one knew that she had gotten Headgirl. She had gotten the letter from Flitwich a few days after the Weasley’s arrived and completely forgot. Although she told her Uncles she didn’t want to go anywhere spending some time with Blaise sounded nice. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off she looked up to find Regulus and Remus looking at her with amused smiles on their faces.

“What’s you got there, Ali?” Remus asked, causing her cheeks to flame red. She wasn’t scared to say that she wanted to hang out with a boy. She did it all the time whether it was Blaise, Theo, or Draco; it was more to do with the fact that she was about to ask to spend the night at a boys' house. Even if they were going to be in separate rooms and they had fallen asleep cuddled together weeks prior at the Malfoys, something none of her Uncles knew, it was going to be a little fight to get Remus to agree as he made the ‘no dating till you’re thirty’ rule when she was five and asked for a boyfriend for Christmas.

Looking around she noticed all attention was on her even if the other adults in the room were making it seem like they weren’t listening while the children openly gawked. “Uhm,” she was cut off by Severus stepping into the room. Great, now she had to face all three Uncles. Where were Dora and Cissa when she needed them?

Severus hugged her quickly before taking a place by Regulus. “Who's the letter from Ali?” He asked her letting her know there was no getting out of it and that she was going to have to spill the beans.

“It’s from Blaise,” A look of amusement passed Regulus’s face, making her think that he knew what was in the letter already while Remus looked like he was going to snatch the letter out of her hands and read it himself if she didn’t hurry up.

“And what possibly could it say to have your cheeks looking like the inside of Gryffindor common room?” Regulus teased further.

She coughed trying to get her nerves resealed. “He was saying that we need to catch up before school starts, and invited me to come and stay with him and Mrs. Zabini for a night this week.”

Remus grunted while Regulus smiled. Ali had to hide a giggle as she noticed all the other mouths in the room had dropped to the floor. Ali knew that except for Hermione and Harry the Weasley’s never stayed or had anyone else with them.

“Can I, please? His mother said we would have separate rooms and she will be there as well as the house-elves. We only got to see one another once this summer. He said if I can’t he could come here, but honestly, I think the first option is better. Please?” She pulled out her best puppy eyes and pouty lip. She was not above begging for it but didn’t want to do so with everyone staring at her.

Regulus looked over at Remus. Ali could see the silent conversation going on between them. Regulus’s head inclined slightly toward Ali which she hoped to Merlin was a good thing. Remus looked back at his niece with a look in his eye she couldn’t read. “Rosalynn said you’ll have separate rooms?” Ali nodded her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “And you’ll stay in them?” Once again she nodded, although she knew that they more than likely would be in the family room till late hours in the night. He looked back at Regulus, “you have no problems with her going?”

“No, I already knew about it. Rosalynn wrote about two days ago. If she wants to go, that's fine. You know Rosalynn will look after her as she does Blaise. And the Heavens know that boy would jump in front of the Knight Bus for Ali.” Regulus chuckled at Ali's shocked expression.

“Y-you knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali struggled to get the words out.

“Rosalynn said Blaise wanted to ask you. She was just giving me a heads up, knowing how Remus is with boys and you. You know we talked quite often, Als.” Regulus winked at her.

“You may go,” Remus stated. She was shocked she didn’t have to put up more of a fight.

“WHAT?” Sirius shrieked. He knew that Regulus would let her go to the Death Eaters house, but Remus? He thought he could count on his ‘friend’ to at least say no. “You’re letting her go to the Death Eaters house? AGAIN? Who's also a boy and staying the night? Are you mad?”

Remus looked at Sirius with disdain, “No I am not. She is a good girl and Blaise has been her friend for years. Rosalynn loves her as much as we do and would never let anything happen. And for God's sake quit calling everyone a Death Eater.”

“Outrageous.”

“Sirius, you have no say in what she does. You gave that up last night. Ali is a good girl who makes good choices. Not only that but she also deserves a little something since she got Headgirl this year, don’t you think?” Regulus smirked as he saw the Granger girl's face fall.

“You got Headgirl?” Hermione whispered to Ali with disbelief lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I did. Draco got Headboy I believe, but it may be Theo. I haven’t asked yet.”

“Why do you and Draco get Head of Houses? Why not Hermione and -“ Ali cut her dear Godbrother off.

“And who? You? Ron? Why would any of you get Head of Houses with all the trouble you bring in? Sneaking out, stealing things, picking fights. We do have the highest marks in most classes as well as treat others equally unlike the likes of you.”

If looks could kill Ali would be dead three times over. In all honesty, she kinda felt bad for the younger Weasley boy seeing as all of his older brothers, bar Fred and George had been Headboy. But then she thought about the trouble he and his friends had caused her and her friends as well as others over the years. Harry preached about equality among the houses but she had witnessed many times when younger Slytherins were picked on by Gryiffndors. Hufflepuffs generally didn't have any problems with the other houses so long as everyone was being just. Ravenclaws tended to keep to themselves unless it really involved them. Whereas Slytherins preferred to stand up to those picking on other Slytherins especially the younger ones. Slytherins were always made out to be the bullies when in general if you got to know them people would notice that they are a lot more than what their parents used to be.

Ally had heard the stories of how mean James and Sirius were to those in Slytherin even if they never did anything to them. She believed in harmless fun could be had pulling pranks, but tricking someone into going to a place where a werewolf was was downright cruel. She had no doubts in her mind that James and Sirius were once good people like her Uncle Remus is now, but seeing as Sirius still acts like a child those doubts were becoming known.

“I just think that Slytherins shouldn’t be Head of House when all you will do is favor your own, and treat everyone else like dirt,” Ron stated.

“Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing?!” Molly exclaimed.

“It’s alright Mrs. Weasey. I am used to hearing such things come from them and others in their house,” Ali looked Ron in the eyes, “You seem to forget that I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin. I do not favor anyone and will not when I start Head Girl duties but know this. I will give you as many detentions as you deserve if you are caught bullying, harassing, belittling, any of the other houses. You may think that Gryiffndors are the bravest of the houses and maybe you are in some ways, but you are cowardly in others. Maybe some Slytherins are as bad as you make them seem, but Harry,” she turned her head slightly to the side, “you seem to forget just which house Peter Pettigrew was in when he was the one who betrayed your parents. And Regulus was in Slytherin but seems to be more loyal to his friends and family than that rat was.”

“It seems that Alianova has given you all something to think about as you're getting ready for bed,” Molly stated looking at all the children present in the room. Her face grew red when she saw that none of them had moved a muscle. “Now.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, jumped from their seats and booked it to the stairs scared of Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. At some point, Charlie, Fluer, and Bill came back from scouting. Charlie ruffled Ali’s hair causing her to grin. “Good job, kid. You’ll make a great Head Girl.” Bill and Fleur nodded in agreement. “Nothing happened while we were out. We’ll give a full debrief tomorrow, but we will be heading to bed as well. Good night everyone.”

Molly walked to Ali and pulled her up out of her chair before placing both hands on Ali’s pale cheeks. “Don’t you worry, dear, I will be talking with all of them in the morning. You made a lot of valid points, and I for one am proud that you are Head Girl.”

She kissed her forehead before taking her husband to go to bed after waving her wand to get the kitchen clean once again. Arthur offered Ali a small smile before disappearing behind his wife. Sirius scoffed at the behavior which everyone heard but chose to ignore.

Ali turned to her three Uncles, waiting for the answer about going to her friends, and the scene that just played out in the kitchen.

“I am proud of you as well, Alianova. You have done excellent, and I know it is Remus and Regulus' decision about going to Blaises’, but I see no problem with it. I will stay in the guest room. Come get me if you need me. Good night, Ali.” He hugged her tightly, making Ali tear up slightly at the thought of Servus being proud of her. It also made her giddy at the thought of rubbing it in Draco’s face since Severus is his Godfather and never said such a thing to him.

Remus followed after Servus, wrapping his niece in a bear hug around her shoulders. The height difference amusing Regulus to no end seeing as Ali only came about midway in Remus’s chest. “You may go as long as it’s okay with Reg, and you stay in separate rooms. I am a little mad though that you didn’t tell me yourself about getting Head Girl, but I am still incredibly proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do, not even Harry.” The last part was whispered in her ear. He kissed her forehead, before heading to his room.

With the three Blacks being the only ones left in the room. “I don’t think you should go.” Sirius’s voice was venomous as he thought about his only child, his legacy, spending time with Death Eaters.

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you think isn’t it?” Regulus smirked at his older brother. He was not going to take this away from his child. “Ali, you may go so long as you stay in your separate rooms whenever the two of you decide to go to sleep because I know from having all your mates over it will be late.” He walked to Ali cradling her freckled face in his hands. “I am so proud to call you my daughter. Even after all that you have been through in your life you have still managed to form your own beliefs and thoughts as well as stand up for them. You deserve Head Girl over anyone else, and hopefully, you get to share it with one of your friends.”

Ali dove into her Uncle's chest. Tears welling up into her eyes at the thought that he really did think of her as his own even if she already knew it. It was nice to hear out loud. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, dad.” She kissed his cheek before heading to her room to write Blaise.

Sirius felt his anger sore to new heights when he heard Ali call Regulus dad. He had enough courtesy to wait till she was out of earshot before grounding out, “We need to talk, Regulus.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black x niece!reader #remus lupin x niece!reader #harry potter oc #severus snape x niece!reader #sirius black x daughter!reader #draco malfoy x platonic!reader #blaise zabini x reader

[cryptenby]

everybody loves jester

Caleb Widogast and Jester Lavorre, some ambiguous time after everything

Caleb Widogast

“Tell me a secret, stinky wizard,” Jester says, with the same grin that’s held Caleb’s heart in a vice since he first saw it. It’s strange to note that it doesn’t have the same effect that it used to. 

“I don’t stink anymore, you know.” Caleb says, a bit indignant. “I don't even carry components in my pockets anymore so you can't say I smell like. What do you call it? Magic stuff?"

“Stinky magic stuff for the stinky wizard, yes,” Jester laughs.

“Right, right, yes, how could I forget.” Caleb answers drily, carefully hiding his smile as Jester giggles.

“Hey!” She chirps suddenly. “Don’t ignore me, magic man. I want my secret.”

Caleb sighs, his expression changing from thoughtful, to one of realization, to embarrassment, and finally, resignation. Still, he fidgets nervously, waffling and wallowing and clearly trying to avoid spilling the beans.

Jester pulls the tarot cards out of her pocket and starts shuffling them, waiting him out. He summons his new cat with a gentle *fwump* and their ears are filled with the sound of her deep, rumbling purrs. Jester almost calls it off then, she never meant to make him upset—especially not enough to summon Molly into his lap—but before she can open her mouth, he starts to talk.

“It was you, first. Is that even a secret? You were the prettiest thing I had seen in a long time, showing up in a dingy bar.” His laugh is self deprecating, his hands running idly over Molly’s fur. “At Travelercon, as crazy as it all was, it was important to you, and it was important to me to give you everything you wanted.”

He looks up at her then, and Jester is struck by how handsome he is now, how handsome he was then even in the midst of his grief and madness. She looks down at her cards and shuffles them again, a distraction from the heat in her cheeks.

“I admit I went a little overboard, but it was because I wanted you to know—to be sure—that anything you wanted I would provide for you. With my own two hands, Jester Lavorre. Abundance, for you. Not just flames.”

Jester finally looks up and can see the old wound reflected in his eyes, and though it’s healed over clean, it still makes her want to cry, this love that he held onto all alone. She had no idea. She loves love, but that doesn’t mean she knows when it’s being pointed in her direction, and the reality of his affections hit her hard. She remembers how confused she was about Fjord–though Gods, does she love him now– and realizes that maybe it was a little obvious. Maybe it really wasn’t that much of a secret. Maybe she loved him too, once.

It doesn’t matter now. What good does it do two old friends, long in love and commitment, to exchange what ifs and maybes? She doesn’t think Caleb would want that either. He told her because she demanded to know, because he trusted that it wouldn’t change a thing. 

She won’t let it.

“I didn’t know, Caleb.” She says finally, wiping her eyes.

Caleb can see right through her and grins sheepishly, still looking down at Molly. “I think you did know. But it’s okay. Are you happy?”

She doesn’t have to think long at all. “Yes. I am.”

He grabs her hand and threads their fingers together, raising her knuckles to his lips. 

“Good,” he smiles, and it’s genuine. She sends thanks to the Traveler that she can now tell the difference. “Good.”

#critical role #mighty nein #jester lavorre #caleb widogast #caleb x jester #widojest #m9 #the m9 #tori writes

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

just because you’re afraid it doesn’t mean you’re broken.

Titans 3.05

once more into the cold dark void of the internet with my stream-of-consciousness take on a superhero tv show...

spoilers ahead.

1. i cannot believe that among the first things i get to hear in this episode with my own two ears is the line 'eluded our overdudes'. why must you give me such pain along with so much joy, show?

1.5. scarecrow stringing jason along on this path to red-hood-dom is not something i would’ve ever expected, but does kind of make sense. 

1.55. i don’t know all the details of the original resurrection arc in the comics but i like that jason, weirdly, has a greater role to play in his own demise and rebirth? i think it makes it easier to draw a line between his past trauma, the demonstrably shitty and terrifying responsibility of being robin, the ways bruce and the titans wronged him, his responses to that, the reasons he turns to scarecrow, and his final evolution to red hood. it makes for a smoother character arc rather than a one that was interrupted for two decades before somebody went oh hey let’s resurrect that kid that the audience once voted to kill and make him an anti-hero!

1.75. what’s crane giving him? anti fear toxin? anyway, crane is a fucking creep and i’m not sure i want to see a whole lot of him on my screen.

2. oh, um, heads up: there’s a long sequence of unsteady cam + flickering lights right after the title card upto the 3:16 mark. it’s a bit headache-inducing so if you want to skip, you can go ahead and do that. 

2.45. that’s... weird... why would he dream about... donna...

ok, who am i kidding. i’m going to jump right into my theory about Why Titans Makes Sense Actually because the show itself is apparently not interested in explaining itself:

a) it makes no sense for jason to be conjuring up donna--who famously did not care much for him!--in his dreams. (he wasn’t even there when she died.) or for her to be telling him don’t go or there’s still time.

b) this leads me to think that that’s actually donna, in some sort of limbo between life and death, the kind of place where jericho used to be

c) rachel has demonstrated that she has the power to link the minds of the titans across great distances--she called jason and hank/dawn for help in 2.01, she linked up everybody later in the season, projected dick’s hallucination of his father into their brains without even realising she was doing it, and in the finale, she managed to get dick into conner’s brain. she’s in themyscira now. is this how she gets donna back to life? but reaching out to her in that non-space between life and death?

d) the next obvious question is: why isn’t donna appearing in the dreams of the other titans? she probably is, but they have better reason to be dreaming about her since they were actually close to her, unlike jason.

e) but why would she warn jason in particular? does she foresee jason entering the afterlife--however briefly? does she have an idea of what jason plans to do and what he will become?

f) anyway, more trippy mindscapes and weird psychic powers, yay!

2.5. my heart clenched when bruce comforted jason post-nightmare: clearly i’ve been reading way too much batfam fic. this is a side of bruce we haven’t really been told to expect by all the characters on the show calling him a ‘psychopath’ (*cough*unreliablenarrators*cough*) and him getting jason to speak to a professional speaks volumes about the kind of self-reflection he’s done post dick’s departure, and maybe some of the regrets he has with regards to how he dealt with dick’s traumas.

i mean, just look at him when jason dismisses his concerns! BRUCE IS TRYING JASON

anyway, i have a whole lot more i want to say about this, but i’ll save it for later. 

also: LESLIE THOMPKINS!!!!

3. i really like molly--and i love that she’s a friend from before jason got taken in by bruce, the implication that they meet up regularly and that she’s a grounding influence on him (tho clearly not grounding enough to not go along with his dumbass idea about confronting a child trafficker alone). 

3.5. aw, jason. robin was his armour against everything in the world that would throw him down and chew him to bits, but san francisco proved that even robin wasn’t enough to protect him. it’s really interesting how ‘disillusionment with the idea of robin’ is so integral to the traumas of both dick and jason but in such different ways. 

4. LESLIE!!!!!!! i even forgive her office being so goddamn blue because leslie! 

4.5. it makes so much sense for titans!verse leslie to be a therapist, because this show is so inward looking anyway, and therapist sessions are a useful tool to showcase this character work in a story. besides, at least in fanfic, leslie often seems to double up as a counsellor anyway. 

4.6. oh man. i’m not terribly convinced by walters’ red hood (tho i think that may be the point--argh. i’ll come back to this thought later. have to stop getting distracted!) but he plays the asshole kid that’s trying not to let any real emotion seep through really well.

“you’d like me to punch you, wouldn’t you”

5. not sure what to think of batman’s little trophy case other than the show winking unsubtly at us and going look look - catwoman! the riddler! two face! you excited yet?! it’s like the scene from the end of amazing spiderman 2 when they were trying to drum up excitement for a sinister six spinoff by having harry osborne walk by a bunch of display cases with stuff from iconic villains in them.

... but then again, bruce does like to display a lot of shit in his batcave, including his dead robin’s bloodstained costume, so.

5.5. bruce is so soft with jason it’s killing me. beyond just trying to learn from his mistakes with dick, it speaks to his own genuine desire to balance his dedication to gotham with doing the best by his sons, although he’s often not successful with that. 

i love that titans is really playing the long game with bruce wayne, with each season and character-perspective sliding in fresh pieces of a bigger puzzle. titans’ bruce has always been a phantom of other peoples’ making, but now we’re getting the idea that he’s a whole lot more complicated than other people make it seem.

5.75. it really recontextualises some of his actions from previous seasons: the fact that he locked dick out of his security systems in 1.06 is likely his way of respecting dick’s independence and his desire not to be associated with batman/gotham anymore. jason knowing about bruce’s tracker while dick doesn’t is probably bruce trying to be more honest and upfront with his charges. bruce sending jason packing off to sanfran to spend time with the titans is probably not him passing on a big responsibility to dick (as i first uncharitably thought) but him trying to get jason out of the toxic influence of gotham for a while and a sign of his trust in dick as a leader and a mentor,

5.8. i mean, bruce is a prick, but he’s also human.

6. i think leslie is doing some good work with jason here, though she may have overstepped the line with her line about robin as a construct being projected by a man with BPD. her speculations about bruce’s diagnosis have no place in her session with jason, and if bruce confides in her, an egregious violation of patient-therapist confidentiality. 

(about the diagnosis itself... i don’t know. i can’t really confirm or refute this without a whole lot more information, and i’m not sure if the writer of this episode means BPD in the same way an actual professional might.)

6.5. i think a huge thing that gets missed out in a lot of recent comics as well as movies/shows is that bruce didn’t create the robin persona out of whole cloth. dick did. he’s the starting point of that legacy and to call it entirely bruce’s creation is blatant erasure of that. in fact, i’m surprised that dick doesn’t feature more in the conversations they’re having about the pressures of being robin. after all, the guy had been robin--bruce’s partner--for such a long time before jason. 

6.8. (and here’s the primal part of me that resonates the deepest with dick grayson--the Eldest Daughter part--that’s sort of resentful: that jason gets the therapy and softness and the learning from mistakes when it took years and years for bruce to reach out in any meaningful way to dick.)

7. oooh that was a great scene!

it’s fun to do these stream-of-consciousness live reactions, because the moment you step down from your soapbox, the episode goes right into tackling what you were just complaining about. bruce means well, he’s learning, but he goes about exactly the wrong way to help jason: taking away robin now can’t be read by jason as anything but a devastating judgment call from bruce. and iain glen really sells the moment that bruce realises this--too late--and his helplessness in trying to get jason to see that it isn’t jason’s fault that he’s trying to do this. he loves jason enough that jason is enough. 

7.5. aaaah so jason brings up the elephant in the room at last. dick got everything makes sense from his perspective, where getting to put on a costume and fight crime means approval, means being something stronger and better than you are. dick got to be robin, then nightwing, and a leader of a whole team of other costume-clad heroes. 

8. ... how did jason just walk into arkham????? this is ridiculous.

8.3. i mean, clearly jason’s not thinking straight, but betraying batman like this puts his possibilities of being robin again even further away. 

8.5. watching that chemistry experiment montage was strangely funny. this guy is looking for an antidote to fear? well, constantly mixing up and inhaling gases concocted by a mad-scientist supervillain is something only the very fearless--reckless to the point of foolishness!--would do. what’s to say crane’s not given you a formula for a drug that will keep you tethered to his every will and whim? hmmmm?

8.7. so he sought out the joker to... test the formula??? 

9. wow the “loud and clear... boss” hits different after a whole episode of them referring to each other as father and son.

9.3. waitwaitwait HOLD UP. wait a DANG MINUTE. you’re telling me that scarecrow had enough resources that he could not only have folks on the outside steal jason away and dunk him in a lazarus pit (i TOLD you that this show would bring up and dismiss ra’s al ghul in a ten second aside! I TOLD YOU) but also have his own little chemistry lab in the basement, AND have enough resources for jason to build his red hood persona???????? all of this in barely twenty four hours?

well there goes my ‘jason orchestrated his death’ theory. it was nice while it lasted. *cups hands to the sky* fly away, my baby.

9.6. a part of me is gleeful at the rushed nature of such an iconic transformation though, especially when compared to all the character work that went before it. we’re so used to getting the opposite that it’s fucking delightful to have a show that’s more interested in exploring its characters’ minds rather than battle scenes or recreating transformations from the comics. that’s taken such bold and exciting steps to fully convey all the nuances of its most recognisable character, bruce wayne, from casting an older actor to play him to unflinchingly showing just how damaging the vigilante lifestyle has been to him and the people he loves. BRILLIANT

*sporfle*

10. again, heads up: a whole lot of flashing lights between 40:28 and 42:00. 

10.3. i guess it’s the super-compressed timeline that’s really throwing me off. where did he have the time to get/develop the mind control thing from? or is it something that he got from the cabal of villains that he intimidated at the beginning of 3.02? very messy.

10.5. i love molly, i hope she shows up again this season.

11. aaaand that’s it! that was a solid episode as flashback episodes go, but now i can’t wait to return to the present.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #jason todd #bruce wayne #leslie thompkins #a tragic jalebi #robin #red hood

[heytherejulietx]

Secrets ~ Fred Weasley

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

Notes - Omg this is the longest one that I’ve done but I’m super proud of this!!!!

Warnings - Mentions of alcoholism and verbal abuse.

Word count - 3.1k.

Fred couldn't know about her home situation. 

That was the one thing that Y/N made herself stick to once she'd started dating the Weasley boy - that he wouldn't have to know. Honestly, she had never seen any pros in him knowing. She would just be giving him a cause to worry about her whilst she was away from him, and she hated seeing him worry. It was so unlike Fred to be concerned. So unlike him to not be wearing a huge boyish grin or laughing about something that had been said. She wouldn't forgive herself if she had been the reason he'd stopped smiling.

Every time he'd ever asked about her family, she'd just brushed it aside. Giving excuses like "oh, my dad's really not that interesting" or "my mum's just always busy with work, Freddie, she's so boring" and that would be all that was said about it before she managed to swerve the conversation into a different direction.

Fred was suspicious, obviously. He was an extremely bright and perceptive boy, so he could tell when he was constantly being lied to. He knew she was lying, and she knew he knew that she was lying. And there were things she did that just made him suspicious, too. At first he'd pushed it off as her just being jumpy, after noticing her flinch at some sudden noises. But Fred grew a little more concerned when seeing her get nervous whenever someone was yelling or got too close to her. Though he'd never brought it up. If there was one thing that Fred was exceptionally well at, it was respecting boundaries. He'd never in a million years go one centimetre over her line, and she wouldn't his. It just wasn't even something that ever crossed their mind. They knew each other well enough to know where to stop, and they did. Every time.

So Fred had never asked her about it. Though it was always in the back of her mind if he knew. Of course, there was no way he possibly could, but it didn't stop her from worrying. Had he seen the letter she'd sent home to her mum? Had he somehow heard about it from someone? Did he know?

But of course, he didn't.

So, when the conversation of the Christmas holidays was brought up, he didn't think much of her asking to spend it with his family. In fact, he was pretty damn pleased by the idea.

"Freddie?" Y/N had asked one cold November night. The both of them had snuck out of their respective dorms to meet in the Gryffindor common room, enjoying their company by the warm glow of the fire that kept them from getting chills in the cold night. She was sat in between his legs with both of theirs stretched out across the sofa, her back leaning against his chest whilst his was leaning against the armrest.

"Hmm?" The ginger boy hummed in response, one arm tightly wrapped around her middle whilst he used his free arm to run his hand up and down her arm.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" She asked, biting her bottom lip before elaborating. "I mean, obviously you'll be with your family. I just mean... would it change too many of your plans if I joined you all?"

Fred's hand stopped moving along her arm. For a short moment she suspected that he was trying to think of a way to tell her no, though when she'd shifted a little to turn and look at him she spotted a huge smile over his features that warmed her more than the fire ever could.

"You want to spend Christmas with me, love?" He inquired.

"Yeah," She smiled almost bashfully as she nodded her head. "Only if your family's okay with it, though." She told him.

"Of course they'll be fine with it!" Fred told her excitedly. "Mum's been eager to meet you for bloody ages, she'd love to have you here for Christmas. And so would I, for that matter. It'd be great, love." He smiled, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her lips, letting his happiness bleed into the action as he smiled against her lips.

So the following month, when all students were packing to go to their homes, Y/N packed her own trunk and headed off with Fred to The Burrow - a place she'd only ever heard about. Though no measure of imagination could compare to the real thing.

"Wow." She whispered in awe as she stared up at the tall building, her hand in Fred's as the much lankier boy stood beside her. "This is incredible, you grew up here?" She smiled as she looked back at him.

"Yep, all my life. It's not all that much on the inside, but it's home." The boy shrugged his shoulders as he stepped forwards, his much larger hand still keeping a hold of hers as he moved to open the door of the house, stepping inside and pulling her with him.

The first thing she got about the house was that it was warm. It wasn't just the nice heat coming from the house, though. The atmosphere itself was warm and comforting - like sleeping in bedsheets that had just been washed, or having a nice hot bath on a cold day. It was homey.

Before she could focus on the house too much, George had stepped into her line of sight, a grin over his features as he stepped forwards to bring her into a hug.

"Hey it's my favourite twin!" Y/N smirked a little into the taller boy's shoulder as she'd hugged him, giggling quietly when she heard both Fred's falsely offended gasp and George's chuckle.

"We all know I've always been more superior than Freddie." George smirked over at Fred once he'd pulled away from the hug.

"Second place is still decent though, love." She told her boyfriend, giggling quietly as she slid her arms around Fred's waist.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. George is much bloody worse than I am." Fred huffed playfully, shooting a joking glare over at George before slinging his arm over Y/N’s shoulder once George had walked off. “Plus, I’m pretty sure George can’t make you cu-“

“Fred!“ She gasped before he could even finish his sentence. The taller boy barked out a laugh at her reaction, a grin covering his expression when noticing the flush in her cheeks.

“Come on, mum’s dying to meet you I’m sure.” Fred told her with a smile. He moved his arm from around her shoulders to take her hand instead, lacing his fingers with his as he lead her further into The Burrow.

Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous about meeting the rest of Fred’s family. Maybe it was because she knew what her family was like, or simply because she wanted his family to like her. She was guessing that they were extremely lovely after all that Fred had told her, though that still didn’t stop the nervousness swirling in her stomach as she stepped into the kitchen where Fred’s mother was.

“Oh Fred dear, it’s so nice to have you home.” Molly Weasley smiled as she pulled her much taller son into a hug, causing Y/N to let go of his hand so he could move both arms around his mother.

It was strange seeing the bond Fred had with her mother. Whilst Y/N’s mother wasn’t anywhere near as bad as her father, she still didn’t get greeted with hugs and kisses when she came home. She rarely even got a hello. The thought almost made her frown as she watched the interaction, though any negative expression she had was wiped as soon as Mrs. Weasley was looking at her.

“It’s great to meet you, dear, Fred’s told me all about you.” Once again she was surprised as Mrs. Weasley pulled her into a hug too, though she was soon smiling as she hugged the woman back, enjoying the embrace for the moment before she’d pulled away.

“It’s lovely to meet you too, Mrs Weasley.” She smiled, letting Fred pull her into his side as she spoke.

“Oh please do call me Molly, lovely.” The older woman smiled, lightly squeezing her arm before turning to finish up whatever she was cooking.

Christmas with the Weasleys was something so different to what she was used to. Their hospitality towards her was baffling - something she hadn’t expected; especially not from a family who didn’t even know her. But they were all so kind and welcoming - even Percy, who had muttered something about how she was so perfect for Fred as the dinner was being served with a small smile, before continuing his previous conversation with his father about schoolwork. She’d even woken up to a few Christmas presents to her from the Weasleys (aside from what Fred had gotten her, of course) which honestly choked her up a little. Their family cared about her more than her own did.

Though of course, whilst she was thoroughly enjoying herself, she couldn’t help but think about her own family. There was guilt for enjoying herself more with a family who wasn’t hers. Sadness whenever she remembered how miserable her home life was compared to Fred’s. And of course, worry that something would happen like it did at her house. She didn’t expect anything like that from the Weasley family - who were all so nice and kind. But whenever someone shouted too loud, or something dropped and hit the floor with a loud crash, for a moment she expected the fighting to start.

The night after Christmas, Y/N had woken up halfway through the night with a jolt and teary eyes, her breathing laboured after a nightmare. Maybe it was the fact that she’d been thinking about her own family for a while, or simply because she’d just been having a genuinely good day, but of course she had to ruin the night with a bad dream.

Untangling herself from Fred’s spaghetti-like arms she pushed herself to sit up. Her eyes blinked a few times both to rid herself of any unshed tears and to adjust her eyesight in the dark room. Her heart still hammered in her chest over the dream, her body almost feeling constricted in a way. The nightmares were never worse than the real thing, though they were pretty damn close.

Once she was more with it, she could hear her boyfriend snoring beside her, and opposite them both hear George mumbling in his sleep about a fuzzy penguin or something, which made her smile slightly. Originally she had offered to sleep on the sofa downstairs so she wasn’t being a nuisance, but after Fred basically banishing her from ever sleeping there, she caved and let herself sleep in Fred’s bed with him. Not wanting to risk waking either of the twins up she carefully got out of the bed; slipping on a dressing gown and slippers before creeping out of the room to head down to the kitchen.

On her way down to the kitchen she wiped her now red eyes with the soft sleeve of her dressing gown, whilst trying not to trip over her own feet as she made her way downstairs towards the Weasley’s kitchen. Though once she was downstairs Y/N froze on the spot, seeing Mrs. Weasley sat at the kitchen table, looking up at her confusedly once she’d come into the room.

“Y/N? My lovely what’re you doing up so late?” The kind woman asked with a small frown of concern, getting out of her seat to walk over towards her.

“Yeah sorry I’m okay, I just um, I wanted a drink.” Even though she didn’t sound too convincing, Mrs. Weasley just let herself smile a little and nodded, moving over to the sink to pour her a glass of water. Once she had it she turned to hand it to her, not missing the redness in her eyes that could be seen because of the kitchen light.

“Nightmares, dear?” She asked softly as she pushed the glass into her hand, pulling out a seat at the table to her before returning to her own one.

Y/N hesitated, but after seeing that Molly Weasley could just read her like a book anyways she nodded as she took a sip of her water. “Yeah. I didn’t want to wake Fred or George so I came downstairs.” She muttered.

“That’s alright, lovely. Do you want to talk about what it was?” She asked with a kind smile, reaching across the table to lightly squeeze her hand.

Yet again Y/N hesitated. She’d never spoken to anybody about her home life - not even Fred. She knew it was probably worse keeping everything bottled up, though she couldn’t bare to let Fred worry so much about her. Though, Mrs. Weasley was clearly a kind woman, and she knew that if she told her that no hesitation would come her way. So she nodded, taking another sip of her water before speaking.

“Things... aren’t too great at home.” She muttered quietly. “My dad, he gets really stressed at work and when he comes home he drinks, and he’s not a very nice drunk... and my mum, she just doesn’t really care anymore.” She mumbled, lifting her hand to wipe her eyes when they’d glazed over like freshly cut glass with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t what you expected me to talk about.”

“No, that’s alright dear.” Molly shook her head, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry, I never realised. Fred mentioned that you were a little jumpy, but he never said-”

“He doesn’t know.” Y/N immediately cut her off, shaking her own head. “I didn’t want to worry him, and it’s not like he can do anything about it.” She sighed, sipping some more of her water when more tears started to fall.

“You might have to tell him eventually, lovely.” Molly offered her a small smile. “But you’re always welcome here whenever you need a place to stay, alright?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I really appreciate that.” She smiled.

“It’s no problem, dear. Now try and get some more sleep, you must be shattered.”

Y/N nodded, finishing her water and thanking Mrs. Weasley once more before she headed back upstairs to Fred and George’s room. She tried to slip back into the bed quietly so she didn’t wake her boyfriend, though once she was laying down Fred squinted one eye open as he snaked his arms around her waist.

“Where’d you go?” He mumbled, still half asleep, pressing his face against her neck as he cuddled into her.

“I needed to pee. Go back to sleep, love.” She whispered back softly as she lifted a hand to start running through Fred’s hair gently, already starting to hear his breathing evening out slightly.

“M’kay.” Fred mumbled, leaving a light kiss against the bare skin of her neck before letting himself drift off to sleep again, it not taking long before Y/N fell asleep too.

Once they’d both woken up, Y/N thought about what Mrs. Weasley had told her all morning. She’d met the older woman’s gaze at the breakfast table, and Molly had just sent her a small knowing smile, before acting like she knew nothing as she turned to speak to her daughter. Y/N appreciated her not saying anything, though as the day went on she realised she probably should tell Fred. Not only should he know as her boyfriend, but she also knew he’d be there for her whenever she needed it. A shoulder to cry on when she was having a bad day, a person to cuddle after she’d had a bad dream. He’d be there for her.

So after dinner once everybody was upstairs getting ready for bed, Y/N sat beside Fred on the sofa in the living room and took his hand, letting the silence brew for a moment before speaking. “Do you ever wonder why I never talk about my family?” She asked softly.

“Not really, I guess they’re just boring old gits.” Fred chuckled at his own joke, though seeing the look on his girlfriend’s face caused him to frown as he lightly squeezed her hand. “Hey, love what’s wrong? Did something happen to your family?”

“I’ve been lying to you.” Her voice was shaky as she spoke, tears quickly gathering along her waterline as she forced herself to focus on their hands instead of looking at Fred’s face. “Things aren’t okay at home, they haven’t been for a while. My dad... he drinks a lot see, and he’s not a nice drunk.”

“Has he ever hurt you?” Fred’s voice was hard as he spoke, his grip on her hand growing a little.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, he just... says things. He thinks I’m weird for being magic, and it all just comes out when he’s drunk.” Y/N sighed, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as she lifted a hand to wipe her eyes. “That’s why I asked to stay here for Christmas.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Fred was frowning in concern when she looked back up at him, his ginger eyebrows furrowed.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” She whispered, shaking her head. “I didn’t need you worrying about something that you couldn’t control.”

“Love,” Fred sighed, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her and pull her into him. “I’m always going to worry about you, okay? I want you to tell me when things are wrong so I can be there for you. I’m really sorry about your dad. I’ll always be here for you, you know that right?”

Y/N buried her face in his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist, nodding as she relaxed into him. It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, now that he knew. It was a relief that he knew - that she didn’t have to hide it from him anymore. And it was even more of a relief knowing he’d be there for her. “I know.”

“Good.” He whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head before tightening his hold on her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.” Y/N whispered back, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed further into her boyfriend’s comforting hold, soothed by knowing he was going to be there for her, and that she didn’t need to worry anymore.

He knew. And it was okay.

#harry potter #harry potter one shot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley reader insert #harry potter reader insert #fred and george weasley

[khadij-al-kubra]

Storytelling, Fate & Happy Endings

I’m still processing last nights episode (CR C2 Ep140), and much like every critter I’m SUPER emotional about it. But something about last night’s events and how they played out really got to me, not just as a fan but also as a storyteller. And even the day after, i was actually crying (still am crying in fact) more than i did last night watching it happen. At first i thought it was because i’m a fairly new critter and this is my first time watching a campaign come to an end. But the more i think about it and process, the more i realize that’s not just it. This effected me as someone who deeply believes in the power of storytelling and how it can not only effect but reflect the world around us. And because I have to get them out of my head, here are my thoughts on why last nights episode was so important, not just for CR fans but also as a an important narrative for right now.

...Yeah that’s a bit vague, isn’t it? Okay, let me explain. If you’re willing to take the time to read fellow Critters, I greatly appreciate it in advance. ^__^

WARNING: Major spoilers for CR Campaign 2 Episode 140 ahead. Also it’s gonna get kind of meta. And long. Because i have a lot of thoughts & feels.

So I think it’s fair to say that, as much as we would’ve been devastated by any of the M9 perma-dying in the last battle, part of us wasn’t expecting them all to make it out of there alive. Not even the players, I think, despite how much they likely didn’t want that to happen. Just look at the half-resigned way Liam talks about Caleb in the last few Talks Machina episodes. Or how, in game, Jester was fully prepare to die trying to stop the city from coming back. And for a while there, it seemed like some of them might not survive.

But then they did. Despite so many crappy rolls throughout the night they stopped Lucien, set free all the souls trapped in Aeor, saved Exandria, and brought each other back from the dead. Not only that, but they also did the impossible: They saved Mollymauk. Their lost friend who had such a deep impact on all of them even after his death. The delightfully charming asshole who was so full of joy and life and who, despite how the world treated him, was happily determined to leave every place better than he found it. Moreover, they almost didn’t succeed! But then they did, all because of teamwork, love and one last minute ditch effort ‘what-the-hell-have-i-got-to-lose’ dice role that none of them saw coming. And now they get to go home together, truly as The Mighty NINE.

Just this once, everybody lived! We got a happy ending!

And that’s HUGE in game...but also think for a second how that reflects outside of game too. Do you realize what a story like that means to people, especially given the year from Hell we’ve all had?

Think about it. This past year the world has suffered. We’ve all been impacted by the pandemic in some way shape or form, either on small levels or large. Our world has been at war with a virus that effected everyone and everything: Our sense of safety. Our health. Our economy. Our families & friends. Our freedom. (in the sense of our ability to travel & just be in close proximity to people without fear, but i digress) Deeply imbedded social and systematic diseases have been brought further to light in the past year and a half largely because of this virus. Some of us have lost people we love. Hell, the pandemic even effected the way that the latter half of Campaign 2 played out because of social distancing protocols. If you further compare this to Campaign 2, the world of Exandria was caught in the middle of a war that started because of social & systematic corruptions that had been rooted in two opposing kingdoms for years. And so many suffered and died because of it.

Then the Mighty Nein comes in. This ragtag group of delightful assholes with nothing to lose; these flawed but inherently good at heart and deeply human adventurers, broken and lost in their own ways, trying to make a home and family for themselves in a world that took advantage of them or left them alone or said they weren’t good enough...and they changed things. 

They grew. They fought back. They found moments of silliness and peace and joy and fun amidst all the strife and sometimes grief. Most of all, they tried. Sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of spite, sometimes even out of compassion, but mostly just out of love. And in the end, not only did they help people and stop a war for the sake of their loved ones, but they also saved their world from being destroyed by a rotted perversion of life from the past that threatened to consume everything they cared about. AND they STILL managed to bring everyone in their found family back to life. Does it erase the bad and sad things that happened to them? Hell no! But those things don’t negate the fact that in that moment, they made it out okay. That this was a victory and they won!

Think of what a story like that means to people right now.

I’m personally a pretty spiritual person, and much like our favorite clerics, I also believe in a higher power. But whether or not you also believe in a Divine being, the Universe or whatever, every D&D player believes in one thing: Fate. Luck. Call it what you will. But it was fate that made those dice rolls that saved everyone happen. It was fate that not only stopped Cognoza from returning, but also brought Jester and Caleb and Molly back to life, even when it seemed like it wouldn’t work. (and holy shit that gave me emotional whiplash!) 

After everything they went through, both individually and together, the Mighty Nein defied the odd and demanded that Fate let them save their loved ones. They demanded that the world give them back their friend; That they deserved to have their happy ending & get to go home alive together. Just. This. Once.

As a writer, I know firsthand that there are some stories we find and create ourselves, but then there are stories that have a way of finding us. Sometimes a story or world or character from somewhere in the Aether will pop into our minds one day and say, ‘I need your voice to tell my story.’ Maybe this is just me getting carried away with the meta brain again. And like i said, i’m a spiritually inclined person, so I believe in things like Fate and a Divine Higher power writing out the stories of the Multiverse. If you’re reading this (and thank you for taking the time to do so) maybe you do too. Or maybe you don’t. Either way, if you’re a fellow critter, then you’re clearly a fan of good stories and/or playing Dungeons & Dragons. So you know how fate/dice roles have a big impact on the outcome of a story, regardless of how tightly written a setup the dungeon master makes. Given all that and how organically stories tend to play out in D&D, I genuinely believe that Matt Mercer and the whole CR Team were meant to be conduits for a story where the flawed heroes save the world AND all make it home alive.

And I think Fate knew that we needed last nights battle to end like this. After all the crap we’ve been through this past year, we needed this happy ending, deserved it even! Not just us critters, the CR team too. As much as we all like to joke that Campaign 2 was secretly scripted, we all know that’s not true. Yes, the setup storyline and world were brilliantly crafted by Matt, and the character roleplaying is beautifully acted out by the team. But the twists and turns, the direction it goes, and how the game plays out is all up to fated dice rolls just like any other game. And something, some kind of force of luck, some force of fate, some Universal Divine DM out there made the roles happen the way they did last night.

It gave us a happy ending.

I believe that this was meant to happen; now of all times with everything else going on in the world. Amidst all this darkness and rot, both in game and in the real world, in the end of it all there was light and life. A reminder that sometimes people do live. They do get second chances. They do find a new family or reunite with old ones. That sometimes the world can be saved for a time, and happy ending do still exist. Even if it’s not broadcasted on the daily news amidst tragedy reports, or even tragedies that don’t get reported (which sadly are a lot, but again i digress).

Because the thing is, like Beau said, no one else will probably know they were heroes. No one will know what the Mighty Nein sacrificed to save all of Exandria. But they don’t need to know that for it to still be true, for life to happen again, and for a found family of nine broken people who love each other to go home together safe. It doesn’t invalidate that the good things happened. That at least for today everyone was saved. That flawed people were still able to do good because they tried. That they left the world better than they found it and got their own small but satisfying happy ending. Even if only for now, because we don’t know what’s gonna happen next Thursday. We don’t know what the future will hold for the Nein or Exandria when the Campaign ends or even when (hopefully) some loose ends will be tied up in later oneshots. But neither that nor the bad and sad stuff that happened beforehand in the game and in the character’s lives invalidates the fact that tonight they won. They lived.

So why can’t that be true for us in the real world?

I said earlier that, as a writer, I believe in the power stories have to not only reflect but also shape our world. This story is an example of why, but especially this episode, and that’s why i was so euphoric about the outcome. It wasn’t just a game for me, and i’m sure for others too. It was a much needed reminder that happy endings can still happen in real life, just as much as they can in stories. Even when everything seems dark and corrupt and rotten and hopeless, we can still keep fighting. We can keep trying. We can make new families and start over and be heroes in our on little lives in small ways. 

We can leave the world better than we found it. 

And maybe, with hard work, imagination, luck and a little Divine intervention...we can also get the happy endings we deserve.

#critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #critical role #campaign 2 #the mighty nein #c2e140 #meta #mighty nein #jester lavorre #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #fjord stone #veth brenatto #essek theyless #mollymauk tealeaf #personal rant #KDsWriting #storytelling #critters #critter community #critical role meta #Campaign 2 episode 140 #cr meta #leave every place better than you found it

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Movie Dad

Featuring character actor, Paul Dooley

Back in 2017, I got to meet veteran actor, Paul Dooley at his one-man show, Movie Dad at Theatre West. He's been one of Hollywood's most reliable character actors. You probably know him as the grumpy dad in Breaking Away. Or as Molly Ringwald's understanding dad in Sixteen Candles. Or as the long-suffering dad who walked Julia Roberts down the aisle four times in Runaway Bride and many others. During the show, he seemed to look at me a lot while he was just talking in general. Since I had a long standing crush on him, I was genuinely star-struck. That’s not even mentioning how hilarious Mr. Dooley is or just how great of a speaker he is. After the show, we talked a bit with him and asked me about what I was up to, where I'm from and if I was dating. "I haven’t really dated all that much. Uh, I guess I need to tell you something. I'm gay, Mr. Dooley." ''Well son, I always say, to each his own. I had a friend in the Navy that was gay. Hell, I reckon he was my best friend. We never, you know, did anything." He surprisingly admitted. “Well this might be a bit confusing to you, but I am only attracted to older men. I don’t know why, that's just me and how I feel inside. In fact, I have had a crush on you since I first saw you in Sixteen Candles." “Is that right.” The old man said, suddenly looking at me differently. His eyes seemed to stare at me as though he was looking at me through a magnifying glass. "Hope I didn't ruin your fantasy." Paul said after a chuckle. "Mr. Dooley, you're needed." His handler called out from behind him. "Be right there." The character actor answered. Then he leaned his head closer to me and in a lower voice than even his handler couldn't have heard, said, "I'm staying at the Luxury Hollywood Villas, room 215. You stop by there in a couple of hours." "Sure thing." I said as the old character actor and his handler walked back to his dressing room. After a few steps, he turned and saw me staring. He winked and smiled a warm friendly, knowing smile. I pretended not to notice, but it was a genuine smile and had more to it than was on the surface. I just smiled back. He was definitely a cutie in his black slacks and grey sweater which made him even more attractive to me. Once again he looked in my direction and winked. I was thinking what a cute little flirt he was. After that, I went to a nearby restaurant for something to eat. I was thinking of the invitation I had received from Mr. Dooley. What had it meant? Was it him being very gracious to a fan or was it something else entirely. It passed the two-hour timetable when I pulled into the driveway of his hotel and I must admit to being more than a little nervous when I knocked on the door. Mr. Dooley greeted me as he closed the door behind us. We sat down and started to have a nice conversation. He asked me if I wanted something to drink and without hesitation, I told him yes. He quick went to the mini refrigerator. When he turned to walk over to me, I noticed a bulge at his waist. Mr. Dooley had a boner. It was impossible to miss. I immediately looked away from his groin and tried to find something else to lay my eyes on. "I was so worried you'd never possibly be interested, but I can see I was wrong."

I turned toward him and noticed he was looking at my groin which was hard as a rock. My heart stopped beating then started again only to beat a thousand times a second. How lucky could I be. Paul was the epitome of a horny grandpa primed for action.

Seeing his willingness, I made the first move, immediately standing up to kiss him. We started stripping each other slowly and seductively until we were both on the bed naked. I asked him if he’d been with a man before and he told me no. I told him he was in for a treat as I began stroking his dick, allowing my hand to engulf his balls with each stroke. His balls were what resulted in such a nice looking package that I had ogled over for years.

Paul started moaning as I allowed my tongue to slip down past his neckline and onto his chest. I had my hands firmly planted on his torso as my tongue drew circles around his nipples. A delight for Paul, if his reaction was any indication. He moaned and stroked my hair as I nursed his nipples.

A million kisses to his body and I found his crotch. Paul groaned in delight as the head of his cock slid into my mouth. I began to suck while I swirled my tongue around his boner as he started thrusting into my throat, making me gag. I crawled back up on top of him and with our cocks pressed between us, we resume kissing.

A minute or two later, Paul broke the kiss, reached in for my hard dick, looked at it, then surprisingly took it in his mouth. The sensation of his warm mouth and the touch of his hand on my balls was amazing. He pushed his head down on it as far as he could without gagging. I felt the head rubbing the back of his throat as I looked down and saw the gray hair bobbing up and down on my dick.

Paul was eagerly gobbling my cock as if he was a starved man trying to satisfy his hunger. As I ran my fingers through his gray hair, I started to push him down farther on my dick. He opened his mouth and relaxed his jaw to take more in. A moan escaped my lips before he pulled his head up and looked at me. I know he was wondering how it was so I told him it was fantastic before he could ask. I couldn't believe how much of me he had taken in his mouth. It was as if he wanted my cock buried in his throat.

After a few minutes of giving and receiving oral foreplay, Paul asked me if I wanted to fuck him and I said yes. Rolling on to his belly, I quickly straddled one of his legs. His beautiful ass was mesmerizing as I stared down at it. All at once, Paul pushed his ass to me. This was too good to be true! Before I knew it the head was right at his hole and boy was it hot against my cock.

"Just relax and we'll take our time." Told him as I wet a couple of fingers before slipping them into his waiting ass.

I worked it, nice and slow until I was pressing the tips of four fingers past his rose bud.

"Please... try it now." Paul said as he reached down and pulled my hand away.

"Now just relax and enjoy it. Once you get past the burn you let me know and I'll ride you as long and as hard as you like." I said before mounting him.  

I eased the head of my cock in his hole and thought I would spew right then and there. Paul cleared his throat and as he did he also gave his butt a push toward my cock. I moved in and out a few times, but on each re-entry, I slowly pushed my cock deeper and started to fuck this granddaddy tight ass. I tried not to cum too quickly and yet I was really enjoying the sensation of his virgin ass squeezing my dick. If I had died the next few seconds, well my life would have been worthwhile to have had the chance to have my cock inside this veteran actor’s ass.

After about 20 minutes of this, I began to pick up the speed a little. I didn’t want to hurt him so I fucked him with caution. Each time I would stop for a moment I would feel his ass quiver in anticipation of my next thrust. I wanted this to last forever, but his asshole was so hot it was like my cock was on fire and with each stroke it grew even hotter. God was this good. I let my shoulders and torso fall backward as I pushed my pelvis to his hot virgin ass. By now, his hole had opened up wide now as I fucked him more freely. His ass grabbed at my cock as I got even deeper. I asked him ”Are you ok?”

“Yes son. That feels good. I’ve never done this you know.”

“Tell me if I am hurting you Paul.”

“No son, you can give it to me faster if you like.”

That's all I needed to hear as I shifted his weight and started fucking him like an engine firing all it's pistons at once. I let my cock find the deep end of his pool and started fucking him with longer strokes now. He moaned loudly and began to push his butt to meet my pace. He was getting wet and hot inside as I continued pumping him with my throbbing dick. I gave him every inch I had as my balls were ready to explode again.

“Oh yes, oh! YES! Fuck me harder. HARDER!” He moaned as he was loving my dick in his ass.

I him without mercy, hard and deep, pounding my cocks full length into his ass for a good two or three minutes.

“Ahh!!! Oh yeah!” I called out as I felt my cum against his passage as it shot out like a scud missile. I held his hips for a few strokes then reached for his shoulders as I bent forward to kiss the back of his neck. His hole sucked me in further still as my load bubbled inside him.

"That... was some honest to goodness man sex." I said as I rolled off of him onto my back.

“Mmm... yes son. I never thought I would let a man fuck me, but you, you made it feel so good.” Paul said as he turned over to look at me.

Noticing his dick was still throbbing, I put my mouth over it and began to suck this old actor off. I knew it really turned him on to have me pumping up and down on his dick. He grabbed me by the hair as he was about to fire off his load. I don't think he wanted to come in my mouth, but I couldn't stop and he fired his load down my throat. With a loud groan I had finished him off.

He pulled me to his chest kissing the top of my head caressing me with his arms, holding me ever so tightly. Soon we were falling into a deep heavenly slumber.

#Movie Dad #Paul Dooley #fan fiction #american actor #actor #CILF

[rhenuvee]

The Heart in You pt2 (Fred Weasley x reader)

Request: Could you do something along these lines? Love you soo much <3 your imagines make me happier. It would mean the world to me if you could do this!! Request: Could you write a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is Fred's best friend but they never really show affection, they insult each other all the time and occasionally Fred flirts, teasingly. But Fred gets all nervous and goes soft when y/n is visiting their home since its so small and you know.. they're poor and stuff... thanks <3

Link to pt1: Here

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

You were peacefully walking through the corridors, ready to spend a cozy Sunday afternoon being warm from the cold with your friends. It was quite surprising how little disturbance there was, as if you were in a scene in a movie. 

That is, until you heard the sudden roars of laughter, clapping, and awe. You gritted your teeth- you knew that the peace was too good to be true. You decided to change your direction, hoping that this path would bring an end to this once and for all. 

This was something you’ve been dealing with for the past week, and it’s been pissing you off. You found the source of the crowd of noise, seeing that it was coming from out in the courtyard. It was just as you expected. 

“-and then there I was, cornered! Like a poor gazelle standing out in the open!” narrated a voice you knew too well. You stood watching from a distance with your arms folded, seeing as a specific redhead told a story you almost knew by heart by now.

Just as rehearsed for the past seven days a week, you saw the same dramatic gestures by none other than Fred Weasley. His stupid chocolate brown eyes which you couldn’t bother to look at, his stupid smile which you swore he had on 24/7- Although you had to admit, something even more stupid was the first and second years genuinely interested and believing in his anecdote. 

“I almost died, but I stayed strong!” you facepalmed as he scrunched up his face way too dramatically. “She- the lion, sneaking up, ready to jump out and-”

“WEASLEY!” you yelled interrupting him, hearing enough of his crap. It seemed to scare some of the first and second years as they jumped and turned to see you.

“It’s the lion! Run!” shouted Fred. The kids yelled their lungs out and ran in all different directions all to get away from ‘the lion’. You marched your way to Fred, trudging your way towards him. You didn’t care about your shoes getting wet from the snow, all you cared about was slapping that smirk off his face.

“Yes?” he said rather casually from his spot, leaning against the wall.

“Yes? That’s all you have to say to the ferocious lion?” you asked incredulously. He chuckled.

“Actually, I do have something to say, though we may need a spell to translate between your roaring.” You scoffed at his terrible joke.

“I hate you.” 

“We know that’s a lie, love.” You rolled your eyes. You knew that the reason the story started in the first place was because of that day you asked him to the yule ball. He tricked you, and his ego was just getting bigger. 

“And what makes you think that?” you retorted.

“You’re the one who asked me to the ball, love.” he said scoffing. You mentally slapped yourself for having a question with an obvious answer. The term of endearment definitely didn’t help in trying to hide your embarrassment. 

“I was drunk.” you replied quickly. Fred in turn laughed at your quick statement, causing you to laugh a little.

“Really? Then you should get drunk more often.” 

“I think you’re drunk, gazelle.” you said poking his chest then turning to leave. Though, this didn’t stop him from hopping from his place and catching up with you.

“Am I now?” he asked pressing further.

“Yes Fred, bye.” you said as you were about to leave him and turn a corner.

“Alright, don’t miss me too much darling!” 

“Fred!”

---

“Hey (y/n)!” called someone from behind you. You stopped and turned to see George who was slowing down to stop near your spot. 

“Hey George. What’s going on?”

“Are you doing anything this holiday?” he asked.

“Hm, probably just gonna go home for the break, same as every year... why?” 

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to ours for Christmas.” Your eyes widened at his offer. You had never been to the burrow before.

“You don’t have to, but I know it would make a certain gazelle really happy.” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“If it would make him happy, why couldn’t he ask me himself?” 

“Well riddle me this, would a gazelle purposely perch itself out in the open where any predator- ow!” You playfully punched George in the arm, seeing as the story was starting to rub on him.

“Sorry- what I meant to say was, it would also make myself, Ginny and Ron really happy. You’re our best friend (y/n)... also, mum’s been asking for you as well.” 

“Your mum? Asking about me?” you said shocked.

“You’ve been mentioned here and there.” he said casually. You bit your lip, trying to supress a smile. You were invited to the burrow, which you’ve heard only good things from Harry and Hermione. 

“Alright, I’ll send an owl to my parents and ask them.” you said. He nodded with a grin, knowing his twin would be ecstatic to hear this. 

---

Your parents were a little surprised that you were going to spend the holidays at the burrow. They’ve never met the twins, just like how Arthur and Molly only heard a few things about you. Nonetheless, they were glad to see you so happy to be with your friends. On another note, you were very very nervous. Maybe it was because of seeing the rest of the Weasley family, but also for very stupid reasons. 

“Oh (y/n), it’s so good to finally meet you dear! Come inside now!” You were welcomed by Molly herself, engulfing you in a tight and warm hug.  You smiled, instantly relieved that Molly liked you enough to hug you.

“I’ve heard so many things about you.” she said maintaining a bright smile. 

“And I’ve heard that you heard many things, all good I hope.” you said.

“Only the best.” she said swiping your cheek then turning to lead you deeper into the house. You walked in, and your eyes couldn’t help put to move left and right. 

“(Y/n)!” You then saw Ginny appear, running as fast as she could down the stairs, then jumping and hugging you just like her mother did. You both squealed in excitement. 

“Hey idiots! Your favourite person is here!” Ginny yelled calling for the twins. 

“Ginny!” scolded Molly with her arms crossed. You giggled. You watched as the two tall figures stepped down to where you were.

“Well look who it is.” George said smirking and leaning in for a hug. Once you pulled away, you saw Fred, but you couldn’t help but notice something was weird about him.

“Hi.” he said curtly, but with a small smile. 

“Hey...?” you greeted, letting your confusion be slightly present. He also went in for a hug, though it was a lot lighter than the ones you’ve received so far.

“Do you want any food?” asked Fred. 

“Um sure.” you shrugged. You thought it was a little strange that Fred was being so ‘nice’ to you. I mean, like George said, would a gazelle let itself stand in the open and offer food for a predator? But you decided to brush the thought off, besides, you really ought to get that dumb story out of your head.

The first evening with the Weasley’s went well. You were able to meet the rest of the family as well as Harry and Hermione which you realized later that they were here. Molly’s cooking was delicious, and you were glad to be apart of the holiday gathering. You were glad that everyone was willing to welcome you, despite being new to the burrow. 

It wasn’t until a couple hours after dinner, when it was late and you spotted Fred and George sitting on the couch, fiddling with what you expected was some of their future joke shop products.

“Hey.” you said heading over to sit with them. George smiled, then quickly jumped up to leave.

“I gotta go to the bathroom. See ya!” he said a bit too joyfully. I mean- tis the season, but one could not be that excited to go to the bathroom. You then scooched closer to Fred, and he noticed with a small grin. 

“Hey you.” he said bringing his lanky arm to wrap around you and bring you even closer. You blushed at the extremely close proximity between you two, but if you were being honest, you didn’t mind one bit. This was secretly what you wanted, right?

You remembered the day you asked Fred to the yule ball quite clearly. After that incident, he was a huge ball of chaos and energy. You remember him skipping down halls, and how you had to chase him to shut up when he started the gazelle story.

And when the night of the ball finally arrived, you were a big bundle of nerves- and Fred was being a cocky little shit as usual... but aside from that, there were things he did that made you have the most fun you’ve ever had in your life. You didn’t forget how much he made you laugh and smile that night. 

And now, you let the thought of his silence creep over again. He spoke and cracked jokes during dinner, but he was still quieter than you’ve experienced. You sat in the same silence as he seemed to be fixing a product.

“Fred...?” you said looking at him, a little surprised that your faces were closer than you expected. 

“Hm?” 

“Uh, are you okay?” you asked. You tried to ask it in the most subtle way possible. He only looked at you with an unreadable expression. The weirdest thing being that he had no witty comeback, or any line to start your typical banter. 

“Yeah.” he said giving a closed mouthed smile again, then looking back at the joke products. Jeez, why did boys have to be so hard to read? To you at least. 

“I just, ‘m surprised you accepted when George invited you here.” he muttered, but you heard it loud and clear. 

“And why would you be surprised?” You didn’t know what to feel. His head pointed downwards- suddenly this moment felt really familiar. You were a bit skeptical if you were being truthful. After a long pause, he suddenly chuckled awkwardly to himself and sat up, leaned back until his head was tilted back on the top edge of the couch.

“I’m mad for you.” he said shifting himself so that his head was still tilted back but facing you. All your jumbling thoughts couldn’t force itself out of your mouth. You just sat there, your eyes bulging out of your head, and mouth in an o shape.

“W-what?” you managed to say. Now you were very very skeptical of what was to happen. You do not want to be tricked by him again, and leave you a blushing mess. 

“I’m mad for you- do you need me to spell it out?” he asked. With the dim lighting you couldn’t see the slight flush of red on his cheeks. He brought his hand to cover his eyes, still showing his lips which were curved up in a flustered smile. 

“I- are you being serious?” you asked in confirmation. 

“Am I- yes I am (y/n), I’m mad for you. I said it three times, now you gotta believe me.” he said taking away the hand covering his face. You didn’t even try to hide the pink tinting your face. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“You still don’t believe me do you.” he deadpanned. You didn’t answer to that. He chuckled, already knowing your answer. In one swift motion, he cupped your cheek with his hand and brought you in closer for a kiss. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against and moved in sync with yours. 

You moved so that you were able to put both your hands on his shoulders to bring him closer. You could feel the hum from his lips when he heard you let out a little noise. Both of you were speechless blushing messes once you pulled away with the ‘smooch’ sound.

“Believe me now?” he said in almost a whisper. You nodded frantically, earning a smirk from Fred, as well as a beckoning gesture to ask you to cuddle next to him. You followed, snuggling up to his side, resting your head on his shoulder.

...

“I always knew you had a heart in you.” 

...

“Excuse me?” 

You tried burying your head further inwards, as you attempted to stifle your giggles about to erupt. Yes, you really did just pull that card on Fred Weasley.

“What did you just say?” asked Fred ducking his head to your level, trying to get a glimpse of what he hoped did not just come out of your mouth. 

“Nothing!”

“You did not say nothing, princess.” he said trying to pry your hands clutching your face as you finally gave in and let out your laughter. You made the split second decision to bolt out of the living room and into the dining room to run away. Fred of course had no problem running after you. 

You were both giggly as heck as you both circled the dining table, which happened to be the only thing protecting you.

“Take it back!’

“No!”

And once you said that, he made a dash for the tight corner and was able to capture you from behind. You squirmed with your legs kicking out as he held you tightly and swung you in a circle.

“Take it back!” he said in your ear.

“I won’t! This is what you get Weasley.” 

“What I get? For what?”

“For...-” You realized then that if you said the reason, he would know that he was the reason you got flustered in the first place.

“What? Am I too handsome for you?” he asked as he placed you down, but still pinned you to the counter. 

“In your dreams!”

“And in real life too.” 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.” you huffed crossing your arms. However, your attempt at trying not to smile failed horribly when you turned your head away from him.

“That means I won, princess.” he said smirking and tilting your head back to face him.

“Oh shut up Fred, you-”

“Make me shut up-”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” You and Fred both jumped when you saw George and Ginny intrude. And worse, when you were both getting riled up at each other. 

“There will be no ‘make me shut up’ in this house.” said George mockingly as Ginny stood next to him laughing. You deadpanned at Ginny clearly not helping the situation.

“You’re not going to encourage them? It’s about time.” said Ginny.

“Gin, if you knew me, you’d know that I’m not even surprised.” replied George sarcastically.

“Oh sod off, both of you. Bein’ two creeps.” said Fred shooing them away. George and Ginny gave each other a knowing look and did as told. Fred then immediately turned back to focusing on you.

“So, what were you thinking on making me shut up?”

#fred weasley #weasley twins #fred and george #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley fluff #Fred Weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley one shot

[dent-de-leon]

Do you ever just think about how Mollymauk would slip gold pieces into people’s pockets when they bought him drinks? How he saved a silk flower from the festival for Yasha, quietly apologizing that it wasn’t real? The way he used tarot to make Jester happy? Fumbling through a magic trick and giving away one of his charms to a little firbolg child--someone who just lost their whole family--because Molly just wanted to make them smile for a moment. How he drew tarot cards of all his loved ones, but never told anyone...

Mollymauk, who sacrifices himself for this family that he loves so much not once, but twice...just...the fact that Mollymauk genuinely and deeply cares about people. He’s very loving and loyal, and Taliesin intentionally built him that way. 

Some of Taliesin’s thoughts on Mollymauk from The World of Critical Role that I think are integral to who Molly is as a character and the kind of person he is: 

“Percy was not a healthy human being and was very destructive. I would consider Percy to be not a very good person, not worth my time. But he had a veneer of a very good moral person.” Molly is, in contrast, based on people Taliesin met “who had the veneer of uncivility and danger and negativity, but who managed to be some of the best people I’ve ever known in my life: the most caring and the most careful, willing to defend what was theirs and stand up for others.” 

“[Molly’s power] was about sacrifice. It’s the giving of himself to give to others. Giving of himself to be a protector.” 

“His very nature is to appear to be many things that he is not. His power looks one way--it looks damaging and looks broken and unhealthy--but, in the end, it’s all about a desire to be a good friend and a good family member. And the understanding that especially when you’re living in a world the way they are, that you sacrifice a bit of yourself for the people who are going to sacrifice a bit of themselves for you.” 

#mollymauk #mollymauk tealeaf #critical role #i am once again thinking about how genuinely good hearted molly is and i love it

[winter-fox-queen]

Snagged the awesome Frankie pics for the above from the awesome @fuckyeahfranciscomorales / @beccaplaying

Hello!

OK. I have two more chapters of this story ready to go. This one is from Frankie’s POV. When last we left our heroes, Frankie found a post card in his mail that ruined the warm fuzzy date night the two of you were having. And now he’s doing the man thing where he retreats for your own good.

Next chapter has SMUT. I am nervous.

Warnings: The “I” character is a female, otherwise a blank slate. I hope it works as well as a self insert, if that’s something you enjoy reading. There is cursing. Angst.

Previous chapters are on my Masterlist, because it has be a while.

Chapter 4: Sadness and Regret

Frankie slouched in the cockpit of the old chopper. She’d been declaired grounded for good a few months ago, good for nothing but parts, but no one had the heart to start dismantling her. It should have been a safe space — the inside of any bird used to be — but he just felt an ache in the base of his heart, a wrongness, an itchiness.

He looked at the post card sitting propped on the control panel. It wasn’t a post card so much as a picture of two girls — Tom’s daughters — with a stamp stuck on it.

The back said, Don’t forget. It is all your fault.

He took pictures of front and back with his phone, opened the group chat, and posted.

Frankie: Look what I got in the mail. Anyone else hear from Molly?

He waited for a response, and he thought of you.

The way you’d laughed. Complimented everything. He’d felt genuinely happy, proud. Worthy.

And the way you’d responded to his touch. The way you stroked him, kissed him. The way you’d looked at him when he’d asked you if you wanted him. The sheer longing and desire had ripped right into his heart.

When he’d kissed your forehead, he’s thought, I could love you. I could fall so hard for you.

He’d thought, I could be so happy.

He’d give a good chunk of his soul to go back in time, put off getting the damned mail. Gone to bed with a grin on his face, dreaming about the next time he’d see you.

The post card was a reminder, alright. A reminder that he didn’t deserve to be happy. You wrote about violence, yes, but your good guys were always pure. You were naive. No one who ever held a gun was pure. He could practically see the blood tattooed on his hands. He could see the man in the kitchen, tied up, helpless, knowing the grim reaper was in the room and he wore Frankie’s face.

The phone pinged, startling him. He fumbled it open.

You. It was you. He closed his eyes. It almost hurt to read the words. Just checking on you. I think you got bad news in the mail? Are you ok?

Aw, sweetheart. He thought. He decided not to reply. Maybe you’d give up.

Will saved him from staring at your text, thinking if he should say something, anyway. Just a I’m ok?

Will: Fuck, Fish. You don’t really think Molly sent that?

Fish: Who else?

Pope: I went to check my mail after I got this. Check it out.

The picture took forever to load. It was a post card — a real one, this time. Of the Andes. The other side read “I will publish your names and addresses in every newspaper I can find, unless you tell me the truth.”

Will: Fuck. Why? What does she think she knows?

Benny: Guys.

And then the dancing dots indicating he was saying something else. Frankie held his breath. The dots stayed there a long time.

Benny: I went to see her. I didn’t tell her much, I swear. Just told her that we did a recce and things went wrong.

Fish: Benjamin, what the ever loving fuck did you do that for?

Benny: Fuck off, Fish, she deserved to know something.

Pope: I’ll go see her. I don’t like this.

Frankie hopped out of the chopper and shoved the picture, folded, into his back pocket. He took off his cap and ran his free hand through his hair. This is a nightmare. This is a fucking nightmare. He didn’t want to face her. He didn’t want to look at her daughters.

The phone binged again.

It was just Pope, not in the group chat.

Pope: Comin with?

Fish: Yeah. I’ll come pick you up.

****

The Davis house was munch as he remembered it…a decent, two story house with a large front yard, but it had put on a cloak of desolation all the same. Tom’s truck was parked to one side, the tires slowly sinking into the ground. The yard needed a mow. The windows looked dirty. Frankie shut off the engine, looked at Pope. Pope looked at him shook his head.

Frankie sighed. “Abandona la esperanza a todas las que entres aquí?”

Pope snorted. Abandon hope all ye who enter, indeed.

They got out of the truck. The daughters would be at school. Molly should be home.

The door bell was a cheerful, bright set of bells that seemed at odd with the rest of the house.

Molly opened the door. She looked well kept, but there was a thinness to her face, a coldness in her eyes. “So, I had to threaten you to get you to come here.”

“How did you know about Lorea?”

“¿Qué diablos, Pope?” Frankie asked. “Real subtle. Molly, can we come in and talk?”

“Sure. Why the hell not?” She held out an arm as if welcoming them in. They followed her into the family room.

“So, are we going to let Frank here try to do polite small talk, or do you want to tell me what I want to know, Pope? What I fucking deserve to know?” Molly sat in an armchair, sitting straight, hands tight on the arms.

“He has a point about Lorea.” Frankie said, a little stung and annoyed, “Where did you hear that name? And do you know how dangerous that name is?”

“Benny let it slip when he came here to try and be nice. Google did the rest. I used to be a good researcher. Once.”

“If you publish our names, he’s likely to come after you, too.” Frankie said. He’s sat on the couch opposite, leaning forward. He was pissed at Molly…he was. But he also liked her. He felt a weight of guilt whenever he saw her that was almost smothering, yes, but he also had a lot of good memories.

“It’s worth it. I want to know exactly what happened. And none of this bullshit about a recon gone wrong. Nothing makes sense. Tom’s death doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“So now you don’t care about your daughters?” Pope was leaning against the fake fireplace mantle, arms crossed.

“So what’s this? Good cop bad cop? I thought you’d be pouring that famous Santiago charm on me right now.”

“Molly…”. Frankie held out a hand.

“Tell me the fucking truth, Frankie.”

“We went on a recon mission.” Pope said. “We went after a drug dealer who was destroying the people of his country, and we had the chance to take him out. So we did. Unfortunately, Lorea’s men came after us. They shot Tom.”

“And the rest of you returned without a scratch?”

“Iron…Will got shot, but we were able to stitch him up.” Frankie said, quietly. “Tom had a good plan to get us out…that’s why we survived.”

She looked at her hands. Slipped them off the arm rest and into her lap. “And the money that oh so magically showed up in my account?”

“We recov…”. Pope started, stopped, then said, “We found it and stole it. We were all going to split it even, but with what happened to Tom…”

“That doesn’t make it better.” She said.

“No.” Frankie said. “But it was all we could do.”

She nodded. “It’s a shame, about that house, Frankie. The one your grandmother left you.”

“What? I don’t…”

“Because you’re going to have to move, because I bet there are people who would love to get their hands on the gringos who killed Lorea.” She laughed. “Maybe the government will deal with you…who knows? Illegal op, right?”

Pope’s laugh was incredulous. “Why does that do? Do you really think they’ll sent a hit team up from South America to take us out?”

“Frank thinks they will. I hope you never play poker Morales.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand…”. Frankie was in shock. Because his fear wasn’t at all that someone would want revenge. No.

“Fuck you, Morales…Santiago. And tell the Millers to go to hell, too. You took my husband away from me.”

“OK, OK, punish me. But not Frankie…not the others.” Pope raised his hands. “The whole thing was my idea. They went along just like Tom did.”

“But they survived. Now get out of my house.”

Back in the truck, where they started.

Pope gestured to the house. “It’s an empty threat. No one fucking cares what we did. No evidence, no proof…”

“They won’t care about proof. Not that I think they will care about Lorea.” Frankie said softly.

“Then what?” But Pope knew. He knew.

“They’re gonna want that money. And we can’t give it to them.”

Pope swallowed. “I’ll tell the Millers. We gotta come up with a plan.”

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales fanfic #my fic

[beauregardlionett]

this poem is my confessional (loving you isn’t a sin)

AO3 Link

A/N: big shout out to my man @sadwizardvibes for the inspiration AND for writing me a fucking song to go with this piece thanks for fueling my beauyasha brainrot man <3

If she was honest with herself, giving Beau that poem had been entirely an impulse decision. Yasha had told Jester she would work on it—which she did—and that she would find a special moment for it. But most of the moments she shared with Beau were special to her, so that didn’t exactly narrow things down. She cherished every conversation and tried her hardest to keep Beau safe. Especially after the events at the chantry, Yasha appreciated every moment she got with Beau.

So, she had handed the paper over and prayed she didn’t embarrass herself.

Beau had seemed flustered, touched, and Yasha had wanted nothing more than to kiss her then and there. But she had held back, because she wanted Beau to at least read the poem before anything else happened.

And then all of that insanity with Vess and Molly—no, Lucien—had happened, and Yasha found herself grateful nothing else had transpired between her and Beau. She hated to think the memory of their potential first kiss might have been marred by the events following.

Regardless, they were underway toward Aeor; the snowy landscapes were taxing, endless, and a little boring. Supposedly it was a good thing they had encountered none of the foretold beasts, but Yasha harbored a lot of pent up frustration and nerves. It would be nice to have something to take that out on.

At the end of their second day, Caleb set up his tower. He ushered them all inside to a haven of warmth and stained glass they were becoming steadily more familiar with. Dagon seemed understandably impressed with the magical structure and grateful for the guest room he was directed to.

Usually they would gather up for dinner together, but there seemed to be a silent, unanimous decision that exhaustion took precedence. They retired to their various rooms with yawns and quiet ‘good nights’, safe for the time being. Yasha lay on her back on the cot in the room with the floral mural. She traced an absent gaze over the patterns, identifying flowers in her head and hoping it would lull her anxious mind to sleep.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Molly—Lucien—and what they would do when they caught up to him. Yasha couldn’t stop thinking about Beau, about the poem she carefully tucked away to read later. Yasha couldn’t help but remember of Zualla as she stared at the flowers on her wall.

There was a knock at her door.

Pushing to her feet after a moment, Yasha walked to her door to poke her head out. She was confused about who might be at her door at this hour until her eyes found Beau fidgeting on the other side of the threshold.

“Hi,” Beau mumbled, hands behind her back.

“Hi,” Yasha breathed back, opening the door a little wider. “Are you okay? It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Beau said, voice pitching up a little at the end in a tell Yasha quickly realized meant she was nervous. “Yeah, I just uh…”

Yasha raised an eyebrow at Beau’s nerves, unused to a Beau who floundered. She realized in the second before Beau pulled the piece of parchment out from behind her back what this was about. The Aasimar flushed pink and her eyes flicked to the ground, embarrassed.

“This was…really beautiful, Yasha,” Beau mumbled, fingers fiddling with the edges of the paper. “But I uh…I noticed this.”

Yasha chanced a look up, Beau extending the paper and pointing to a tiny note scrawled in the bottom corner. She had forgotten about that.

In her messy, cramped handwriting, Yasha had scrawled the word harp? She had been considering turning her poem into a song, because it was always easier for her to express things through music. Plus, she knew that Beau enjoyed her music, so why wouldn’t she put it to chords? But Yasha ended up pushing the idea aside. It was one thing for Beau to like Yasha’s wordless performances, and a whole other for Yasha to direct poetry with music toward the woman of her affection.

“It was…just an idea,” Yasha said with a half-hearted dismissive gesture.

“Would you play it for me?”

Yasha felt her cheeks grow warmer, more red than pink now. But before she could give it too much thought, the Aasimar felt herself nodding. She stood aside and let Beau into her room, leading the monk back into the chamber painted with flowers.

Beau sat cross-legged on the floor across from Yasha as the Aasimar tuned her harp. She took a little longer with the task than strictly necessary, just so she could freak out in silence.

Of course, she had prepared chords for this, because she had run with the idea. But Yasha shied away from it, losing her courage. Music was something that had helped Yasha heal, a meditation in her own way. It brought her peace and offered her an outlet for emotions she didn’t quite know how to express. So, to have Beau sitting before her, eyes trained solely on Yasha, was intense and nerve-wracking.

If Yasha had learned anything, though, it was that she could trust Beau. The monk had been looking out for her, and for the entire group, since day one. Before Beau had trusted any of them, she had still been looking out for them. It was something Yasha admired about Beau—her capacity to care and to love despite everything she had been through. Beau inspired Yasha to keep fighting.

The least she could do was play this for her.

She didn’t need the parchment back. Yasha had spent hours pouring over the words and the chords to make sure it sounded perfect.

Oh, oh Beau, I’m grateful for you.

You waited while I wandered,

While everyone was wondering

If I’d ever come back, you stayed true.

Her voice faltered slightly at the start, uncertain and underused, but she persisted. Beau’s eyes on her simultaneously made her nervous and strengthened her resolve.

Oh, oh Beau, you mean so much to me,

I’ve lost so many people,

I cannot fathom losing

The woman who has loved so fearlessly.

Yasha rarely sang. She used to sing for Zualla in those quiet stolen moments years ago. When they were out in the fields alone, walking or hunting or just existing to stare at the stars. She sang once for Molly, both of them a little past tipsy after a good night for the circus. He had told her she possessed a voice fit for performances, but Yasha had waved him off.

Her voice was sweet, higher than her speaking voice because she sang from her nose and her head. It threw most people for a loop, but Beau merely sat there and stared. Her blue eyes were wide with awe, lips slightly parted. If Yasha didn’t know Beau couldn’t be charmed, she would almost think the monk under a spell.

And I’ve ambled and trekked over miles and miles,

Every step lead me straight back to you.

You gave me the space to learn where I belong

And I’ll tell you right now, it’s the truth.

It was almost like nothing else existed. Yasha’s fingertips buzzed against the taut strings of the harp, her voice vibrated in her chest, and Beau’s eyes stayed fixated on Yasha’s face. This was all that mattered right now, and Yasha couldn’t think of what existed before this, or what might exist after.

Oh, oh Beau, the one I’m thinking of,

I want to hold your hand and

Stand quietly beside you.

I want to confess, you’re my love.

The last strum of her harp faded into silence, and Yasha reveled in the peace vibrating through her veins. She had rarely known stillness like this before discovering music.

Beau sniffed, and Yasha twitched as she startled, eyes snapping up to Beau’s face. The monk still stared at her, eyes wide and watering.

No one’s ever written me a poem before. Yasha remembered the soft-spoken admission as a tear tumbled down Beau’s cheek. She guessed without asking that no one ever sung for Beau before, either.

“Yasha…” Beau breathed. “That was incredible. Your voice…”

The Aasimar ducked her head, not even trying to suppress the smile pulling at her lips. Beau’s awe was so genuine, Yasha barely knew how to face it head on.

“I didn’t know if you would…y’know want to hear it like that. Or if you would just rather read it,” Yasha rambled, running her fingers with absent focus up and down one string on her harp. “So…yeah, I mean, it’s a song, too. But it was originally a poem. For you.”

“Yeah,” Beau’s voice cracked. “I don’t—Yasha, that was…incredible. You’re incredible. You wrote that? For me?”

“Of course,” Yasha said, looking up again with a small frown. The note of disbelief in Beau’s voice upset her. Why wouldn’t she write a poem for Beau?

“Thank you,” Beau said, her voice overflowing with an emotion Yasha could empathize with, but couldn’t name.

“I am glad you liked it,” Yasha said as she set her harp aside. She didn’t know where to go from here. Jester had said Beau was waiting for Yasha to make the first move, and this…was this enough? It felt weird to question that kind of thing because Yasha had been married before. Theoretically, she should know how to do this. But then again, everything she and Zualla had done had been in secret. Yasha never learned how to express affection for someone openly.

And knowing what she did about Beau, Yasha figured that the monk had no better clue in any of this than she did.

“Maybe uhm…” Yasha started, but stopped. She didn’t want to mess this up. “Maybe after we finish this job…we could, y’know…get dinner? Just us?”

Watching a slow smile spread and pull at Beau’s lips was like watching a sunrise. It began slowly, a little hesitantly, colors bleeding into and washing away the darkness of Beau’s uncertainty. It was a gentle harbinger that lasted a lifetime in no time at all. Then, between one blink and the next, the sun. Beau grinned with wild abandon, lips pulled wide to reveal her teeth, and eyes scrunching at the corners with the force of it. Yasha’s heart went giddy in her chest at the mere sight of Beau’s joy.

“I’d like that,” Beau whispered. There was the same quiet, awed excitement in her voice from when she first received Yasha’s poem.

Yasha’s cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling. “It’s a date.”

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #writing #my writing #beauregard lionett #yasha #LET'S MANIFEST #i honestly got this idea like two weeks ago but better late than never am i right #c2e114

[yee-fxcking-haw]

What Happens Next?

Summary: You begrudgingly go out dancing with your best friend, but you're consumed by the fear that you'll run into James Barnes. You two shared a wonderful afternoon in highschool and somehow ended up at prom together. Unfortunately, James ruined everything with a horrible prank at your expense. Of course, at the most popular dance hall, he shows up.

Hi guys! This is my very first fic ever so pLeAsE be nice. I apologise for typos and for being long winded. I want to preface this by making it clear that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing I just hope y'all have fun reading the story. My comic book knowledge is eh, it's set in the 1940s ish?? LOL I suck y'all are in for a wild ride. Maybe four or five parts if you guys like it?? Maybe??? Please like it????>

Warnings: Mentions of death. Asshole guy tries to get reader to leave with him without consent. Eventual smut. More specific warnings will be at the beginning of each chapter.

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 "Molly I do not want to go dancing." You bite off the end of the sentence as you put the rest of your clothes away. 

   Your best friend is sitting on your bed, touching up her makeup in a delicate handheld mirror. She rolls her eyes in a dramatic manner then slapps the mirror down on the bed and huffed at you. You can't help but laugh at her theatrics. 

   "It's not my thing." You say in a softer tone, trying to ease the tension you'd created with your snapping. 

  She looks at you with her soft brown eyes and pouts her red lips. 

   "Oh for Pete's sake I don't even own a dress." You say as you motion at your overalls. 

   "That is a sorry excuse and you know it, they're all I wear- you can borrow one of mine." She says, stressing the last half like you're hard of hearing. 

   "Yours are all too nice! I rip things and spill things and lose things, no way I'm using one of yours." You take a glance at her lovely yellow dress, decorated with a delicate white floral design. Of course she could pull that off, but you could never.

   "I have plenty I don't wear anymore, you can just have one."

   You cross your arms and scowl. You know how this is going to end, but you won't go down without a fight. Molly is one of those girls that just got what she wanted, like it was a fact of life. She's too pretty, too convincing, and dangerously clever.

    "There's going to be people from highschool there. Please don't make me do this." You beg, maybe the pity card will work. Graduation was only two months behind you, so a lot of the humiliation still stung. 

   This was true, the majority of your highschool career was indeed filled with self induced bullying. 

   "What if he's there?" You ask, feeling much more serious. 

   Molly's hands stop and she looks you in your eyes, they soften a little as she sees your genuine anxiety. Your mind goes to that horrible boy, James Barnes. Handsome enough to get himself out of any trouble, heartless enough to ruin highschool for you. Against every ounce of good sense in your body, you had developed a crush on him the last two years of highschool. It was probably those blue eyes that looked silver in the right light. The contrast of those eyes against his chocolate brown hair that always laid so well combed on his head. He had this way of walking down the halls with such confidence,  you'd swear he had every intention of owning the building one day. You assume it was the hormones, the desire to be wanted by the most wanted boy in school. Any girl could fall victim to those looks, even you. You had even grown to find his childish antics somewhat amusing. All of his pranks and obnoxious behavior had become something adventurous that you'd always longed for, something that had been missing from your life. 

   She interrupts your thinking by running her hands through the rest of your hair to undo the last half of the braid. 

   "Well, I say we get you all dolled up and show him how blind he was." She offers you a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder. 

   Your eyes drop to the floor, trying to give off the impression that the carpet has suddenly become very interesting to you. You hear her sigh while she reaches a small hand up to tilt your chin towards her face. 

   "He can't ruin dance halls, he can't ruin our fun, he especially can't ruin college boys." Her voice takes on a mischievous tone and you see that light in her eyes that only means you've already lost. You can't help but smile at her endearing girlishness. 

   "Fine, but I will not wear pink." 

   Like a five year old who's just been told she can have a sleepover she squeaks and runs to collect her makeup off the bed. 

   "Please no lipstick. I'm begging you." You smile at her, knowing full well she will pitch a fit over your reluctance to wear that awful stuff.

   "Just a little, to give you a touch of color?" She says, using her sugary voice to convince you. 

   Another easy victory for her, you roll your eyes and throw up your hands. She's on you immediately, doing God knows what to your poor face. She works with light touches, most of the application is not so bad. The mascara is the worst, it tickles and makes your eyes feel heavy. You can't find it in your heart to object though, given how joyful she is about the entire ordeal. She runs her finger through your hair a few times, pulling some pieces forward to frame your face. She steps back and crosses her arms in a very self satisfied way. 

   "You really are pretty." She says, not beautiful, just pretty. 

   "I'm not ugly." You shrug and turn to the mirror. 

   Slightly shocked, you take in your rather foreign reflection. You did look pretty. She had been very light with the makeup like she had said, she had given you just a touch of color in all the right places. Your lips look rosy, your cheeks blushed gracefully, the color to your eyelashes gives your eyes lovely definition. She tosses your hair to one side and smiles. She had given you the appearance of a girl who knew what she was doing with her looks. Perhaps you could fool a college boy into a dance with you. The overalls stood out sorely, but that would be remedied with one of her elegant dresses. 

   "So… what do you think?" She asks cautiously. 

   "I think you might be right." You smile softly at her. 

   She replies with another triumphant squeak and grabs her bag. She hoists out a bright red dress and thrusts it at you. 

   "Red? Molly this is the most attention grabbing color you could put me in! Did you pack this before you left, before you even asked me?" You're slightly offended, but mostly impressed. Of course she had, she knew she would get her way. 

   "Oh just put it on you big baby." 

   With a huff you toss the dress over your chair and unclip your overall straps. You give her a glare as you shove them down your legs. You discard your shirt to the pile in the corner of your room and she sighs at your messiness. You hold the soft dress in your hands before throwing it over your head, admiring the way it glides over your skin. A very welcome contrast to the roughness of denim. It falls down your body, you have to tug a few times to get it all settled. It hugs you a little tight in a few places, as Molly is slightly more petite than you. You turn again to the mirror to inspect your transformation, again shocked by what you see. The red brings out the blush and lipstick even more, making you look like you've just been caught doing something not so lady-like. Molly walks up behind you, that same satisfied smile on her face. 

   "Now that's a lady." She says smugly.

   You sigh in defeat, not only had she convinced you to go dancing, but she had made you somebody worth dancing with. You reach up to try to flatten your hair a little and she snatches your wrist. 

   "Don't you dare ruin that volume. Grab your shoes, let's go." She scurries off downstairs, you assume to let your mother know of your plans for the evening. You take a moment alone in the mirror to run your hands over the dress. It really is a pretty dress, delicate neckline with a bow to tie the waist. It brings out your curves in a very flattering way, giving you that much envied hour glass look. You had that going for you, you were full in all the right places. As much as it pains you to admit, Molly had made you look pretty. Pretty, just pretty. You wonder what it would take to be beautiful. 

   You go to grab your boots instinctively, but catch yourself. You wander over to the closet to fetch the little black dress shoes your mom bought you for graduation. They looked almost like black ballerina slippers, very sleek and feminine. They feel very strange once they're on your feet, but Molly would have an absolute meltdown if you tromp down the stairs in your boots, so you suck up the slight discomfort. On your way downstairs you hear Molly and your mom laughing about something, probably at your expense. 

   "Well I'll be! How hard did you have to fight her to get her in that thing?" Your mom exclaims when you round the corner into the kitchen. She takes in your appearance with a dropped jaw. 

   "Oh Molly you did wonderfully." She touches your hair, smoothes the shoulders of your dress and steps back.

  "Thank you ma'am, she's a lovely canvas." 

  Growing slightly irritated at the gawking, you shove past them to grab the keys to your truck. 

   "Alright y'all this ain't a museum quit your staring." 

   They both chuckle at your grumpy state. 

   "We're just saying you're pretty is all." Your mom says gently, knowing too well your hatred for dressing up. 

   You turn and sigh, you know they mean well. They don't know how difficult it's going to be to go out and just be pretty next to Molly. Molly is gorgeous, and she'll be told that by any man who sees her. You'll be given a once over and they'll move on to her, you'll become her shadow all evening and the truth of it fills you with dread. Your hand sneaks to your stomach to try and calm your nerves. You think maybe you can feign an illness, get out of this whole charade that will inevitably end in you watching Molly be swept off by countless men, while the most action you'll see is the root beer bottle touching your lips while you sit alone. 

   "Oh no you're not doing the sick act." Molly is all too familiar with your tricks. She grabs her purse while your mom laughs. 

   "Molly get her out of here before she has the most sudden case of the flu known to man!" They both laugh deeply at this and you grumble while they usher you towards the front door. Your mom gives you each a kiss on the cheek and smiles fondly. 

   "Be safe, stay away from soldiers, and always keep an eye on each other. I will allow a small amount of mischief but nothin' that requires me getting dressed to come pick you two trouble makers up." 

   You and Molly chuckle at her little speech. She was well aware that you two could very well get yourselves into a right mess, given the years of shenanigans. You lean in and hug her tightly. 

   "It's just the dance hall ma. Nothin' we can't handle." You reassure her. 

   "Oh I know that. I'm worried it can't handle you." Another round of laughter, Molly opens the door and bows with a dramatic sweep of her hand. 

   "After you Madame." She says through laughter. 

   You roll your eyes, at her, at your mother, at the absurdity of this entire evening. Maybe it won't be so bad to get out and have fun again. Since you graduated you've been hesitant to show your face anywhere around town. Going to the dance hall was a big deal as it was just outside the city. James and his best friend Steve were there often during the weekends in highschool. You always admired Steve a little, he reminded you of yourself. A shadow to an attention grabbing best friend. Steve always seemed sweet, you wondered how he could be best friends with such an ass like James. Then again, James seemed harmless until he proved to be heartless. 

   "Very well, but I'm driving," you announce, Molly tries to object but you whip around quickly and give her a warning look. 

   "Fine that's fair, you've already budged on a lot tonight." She ends her sentence with a sweet giggle. 

  "I love you both! Keep her from biting any heads off Molly!" Your mom calls out as you walk to your truck. 

   "As always!" Molly calls back. 

   You climb into your old blue truck, the only thing you have left of your father. The war took him, not an uncommon story around these parts. This truck has become a thinking spot for you, a little sanctuary made of cracked leather and discarded soda caps. You smile fondly as you start up the engine. Your father and you had a friendship that you believed to be rare. He never once made you wear a dress, or brush your hair. He admired your stubborn nature, he used to tell you the world had another thing coming if it thought it was ready for a girl like you. Swallowing the tears that threatened to spill, you reach over and pop the lock of the passenger side door so your best friend can join you. Molly hops into the passenger seat and gives you a wide grin. 

   She says your name softly, you glance over to offer her confirmation of your attention. 

   "Thank you for coming with me. I owe you." She's set aside the joking to genuinely thank you for stepping out of your comfort zone for her. While Molly was at times irritating due to her ability to always get her way, she was a genuine, loyal friend. 

  "You sure do." You laugh, flick on the lights and shift the gear to drive. 

   Your dad had taught you how to drive at 14, something he was very proud of while your mother was horrified. 

   "If I'm gonna send you out on the road, you're gonna know how to handle a truck. I want you surrounded by all this metal, much safer than all those little show cars people got now." You can hear his strong voice reciting his speech for why he wanted you to start so young. 

   He had succeeded indeed. You could handle a truck better than anyone you knew, every time you drive you thank him for it. There probably wouldn't ever come a day when you'd part with this ugly blue truck, not when it held every memory you love. 

   The drive to the dance hall is filled with Molly yammering about all the fine young men that will be there. You try to listen, but your mind is stuck on James. It's a Friday night, of course he'll be there. You were a fool to think there was any maybe about it. He would be there, you would see him, and you would have to relive his most horrible prank all over again. Your only hope was that Steve would be with him, if Steve was there James would somewhat behave himself. You hoped so at least. When you pulled into the dance hall parking lot your stomach began to tie itself in knots. A white hot embarrassment clawed at your lungs and your stomach. You could already see faces you recognize from highschool, you wanted nothing more than to run back home with your tail between your legs. You pulled the truck into a spot along the road, so you were turned away from anybody that might see you. The thought of somebody seeing your face then leaning over to whisper to their friend was enough to make your eyes water. You curse yourself for being so damn sensitive about the matter. It was only prom right? Only a stupid dance, that's what you always said. That was until that arrogant coward James went and- 

   "Are you ok?" Molly asks quietly. 

   You hadn't even heard her calling your name. Your thoughts consumed by the horrible shame eating at your insides. 

   "Just worried." You say, almost a whisper. 

   She's quiet for a moment, contemplating your anxious state. She reaches over and covers your hand with hers, rubbing it with her thumb affectionately. 

   "He can't take this. You get to smile, you get to have fun. People like him peak in highschool and end up miserable the rest of their lives. People like that don't get to ruin things for people like you." Her voice is calm, resolute, it brings you the peace you've craved since you left the house. 

   You think of your dad, how livid he would be if he knew you were letting some stupid boy steal your thunder. You could never let him see you this bent out of shape over somebody like James. You take one deep breath, begging the air to steady your nerves. Looking over at Molly, you smile at the honesty in her eyes. She's right, he doesn't get to have this too. He had his moment, his last hoorah. Prom was all he was ever going to take from you. You fluff your hair a little, tossing it to one side like Molly had at your house. Taking one last breath, you square your shoulders and smile at her. 

   "Let's give 'em hell." You say. 

   "Atta girl! You're a knockout hon, you'll see." She hops out of the truck and runs around to meet you on your way out. She hooks her arm in yours and pulls you towards the building. So far none of the people heading in have turned to throw any rotten fruit at you, so you allow yourself to relax slightly and follow Molly's lead. As you make your way to the door you notice a group of soldiers leaning against the wall, a few smoking, a few cradling beers. Naturally their eyes wander over to you two. You anticipate the eyes that land on Molly, but not the eyes that land on you. You're especially caught off guard by the low whistle that leaves the lips of a particularly handsome soldier. You must look like you've never even seen a man before, let alone had one compliment you. Molly doesn't miss a beat, letting out a soft giggle and raising her free hand to wave. 

   "Evening boys, y'all here to dance or cause trouble?" She says with her flirty voice. They all chuckle. 

   "How's a little of both sound, sweetheart?" The one that whistled says with a deep husky voice. You blush and try to hide your sheepish smile by looking down when his eyes meet yours. 

   "Sounds like a plan." Molly winks and ducks into the doorway. 

   The lobby is absolutely packed with people, some saying excited hellos, some couples all over each other, all far too busy to even notice you two have entered. This brings you even more relief, maybe you would make it through tonight without having to relive any painful highschool memories. People probably didn't even care anymore. That's what happens after highschool anyway, it all gets forgotten while everyone finds their own way. That's thinking optimistically of course, an event like prom was sure to be remembered, but for tonight you're determined to pretend it never happened. Clinging to Molly like a life raft you let her lead you into the dance hall. You are absolutely floored by all of the movement, the bodies wrapped around each other, the band blaring on the stage, the twinkling lights illuminating the entire event. It's all so incredible. Everyone seems to have completely lost themselves in the movement of the band's driving melody. They're playing In The Mood by Glenn Miller, a song you've learned is a hit at places like this. You crane your head to take in the entire room, out of the corner of your eye you notice the soldiers from the front door, the one guilty of the whistling has his eyes glued to you. You offer him a shy smile, he returns it with his own confident grin. 

   "Molly that soldier won't stop looking at me!" You say urgently.

   "Well then let's go." She says it like it's obvious. You don't even get the chance to object, she yanks you around and you're on your way over to the group of charming soldiers. Your eyes are glued to your admirer, who looks pleased with Molly's decision to bring you over. 

   "Hello again." She says with her signature confidence. 

   "Hi there." His friend says, giving Molly a long look up and down. 

   "I'm afraid no young man has had the guts to ask either of us to dance, either of you up to the challenge?" She asks. 

   The two men give each other a knowing look. The friend offers Molly his hand immediately. 

   "It would be a pleasure darlin'." He says with a goofy smile. He's very handsome, warm brown eyes with tight curls to match. A strong jaw and a bright look in his deep eyes. Built strong and broad like most soldiers, dwarfing Molly. You hear her giggle and ask him his name as he sweeps the off into the dance floor. You're left with your soon to be dance partner, tongue tied and full of nerves. You glance up at him through your lashes, hoping you don't look too helpless. He offers you a small smile. His eyes are a deep brown like his friend's, but his hair is a rich auburn. Freckles decorate his handsome cheekbones, pairing beautifully with his rich eyes. 

   "What's your name sugar?" He asks with confidence while he steps forward, placing his left hand on your waist, moving his other to hold yours up in a typical pose for dancing like this. You're so very thankful for his obvious experience. If this was all left up to you, there would be nothing but awkward silence and a sorry excuse to duck and run out of the building. His confidence puts you at ease, so you settle into the dance, a slow easy pace to match the new song the band had begun to play. You tell him your name softly and give him an awkward glance. 

   "Thank you for the pity dance. That girl that stole your friend is my best friend. She had to practically drag me here." You add a chuckle to the end of the sentence, making sure it comes out soft and feminine. 

   He smiles down at you, a look you can't quite decipher crosses his eyes. Before he speaks again his eyes drift to your neckline quickly then dart back up. You try to stuff the uncomfortable feeling it gives you deep down so you don't ruin the dance. 

   "Ain't no pity dance sweetheart. You're a vision in red. My name's Daniel." He says, eyes dancing over your collar bones briefly. You suppose this is the kind of attention that you should expect at a place like this. This is the kind of attention girls come here for isn't it? You sure hope so. Finding yourself lost for what to say next you think about what Molly would say. Despite your nerves, you let your free hand slide to play with his collar, you bat your eyelashes and give him what you hope is a flirtatious smirk. This seems to boost his confidence a little, he lets the hand on your waist drift down slightly. You swallow that uncomfortable feeling and ignore the gesture. 

   "So Daniel, how long have you been a soldier?" You internally kick yourself for the disgustingly ditsy question. This is why you don't go dancing. 

   "About a year, joined right out of highschool." He says, shamelessly watching your neckline now instead of meeting your eyes. 

   Channelling Molly, you utterly shock yourself with the sentence that leaves your mouth next. 

   "Well if you think I'm a vision in red, you should see yourself in this uniform." 

   This apparently sparks something in him, because he drops his hand so his fingers are on the side of your ass, and the hand holding yours drops to mirror it. You grab his shoulders to steady yourself, he brings you flush against him and drops his head so his lips are at your ear. 

   "You should see me out of it hon." His voice is low and sinister and you positively hate it. You plant your palms on his chest and look up at him with as much alarm as you can convey. 

   "Look dude, I'm new to this but I'm not an idiot. You need to find another girl if this is how you want tonight to go," you snap.

   He doesn't drop his cocky smile for a second. Before you can even react he has you by the wrist, dragging you into the lobby and out the door. The bastard had positioned you for a quick escape while you were dancing. 

   "Hey knock it off!" You holler, looking around wildly, pleading for someone to notice. They're all far too caught up in their own activities to notice, just like when you and Molly arrived. Your legs betray you as you stomp along behind him, desperate to avoid a scene. Your stomach starts to flip and you dig your heels in once you're in the parking lot. You yank your arm back and call out to him again. 

   He turns on you like a wolf, grabbing the sides of your face with a crushing grip. You let out a whimper while your hands fly to his and attempt to pry them off your face. 

   "Look hon, you got two options, embarrass the hell out of yourself, or come with me and have the time of your life." Now that he's this close you smell the alcohol on his breath. 

   "You pig!" You snarl, your foot comes down on his right foot hard and you spit in his face. He hops back and howls, grabbing his foot and wiping his face. You turn on your heels to run into the building but his strong hand is around your wrist again. He yanks you so your back is against his chest. Before you can object to this horrid action, a strong and smooth voice echoes from behind the both of you. 

   "I ain't no genius, but I don't believe a woman wants to be held like that by a man that she's just called a pig." 

   Daniel's arm releases you and you stumble forward, not even sparing a glance back at your rescuer, you run into the lobby and find a table to brace yourself on. You swallow as much air as you can to still the rattling of your bones. You hear shouting, maybe the sound of a fist connecting with a face. Daniel let's some colorful language fly at his assailant, followed by heavy footsteps and a slamming car door. 

You let out a huff, flattening your fingers out on the cold wood of the table. Willing yourself to relax before you see Molly again, the last thing you want is to ruin her night out. 

   "Are you alright doll?" That smooth voice from the parking lot asks from behind you. You feel a wave of calm wash over you. It was just a voice, a stranger's voice, why did it bring you so much peace? Dropping your shoulders, you turn to face whoever this bold savior is. 

   "I am now, thank you for-." You freeze, suddenly feeling like you're in even more danger than you were at the hands of Daniel. You stare directly into eyes so blue they look like silver. Your throat closes, Your heart hits the bottom of your stomach and you bring your arms around your abdomen. Those beautiful lips part and he says your name gently, like you're some wounded animal he doesn't want to scare off. You damn the butterflies that flutter in your stomach at the sound of his voice saying your name like that. Those eyes have you trapped in their gaze, you will yourself to run, to rip your feet from where they're planted and run like hell. You can't fucking move though, not away from him.

   "James." You whisper. Embarrassment burns white and hot in your gut. You swallow thickly and grab your elbows, wishing to hold yourself tightly, hoping maybe if you squeeze hard enough you'll crumble and disappear.

   "Uhm, th-thanks for that." You blurt out then turn to run to your truck, hoping to hide until Molly comes out to find you. You need the safety of that dingey cabin, to smell the leather and the oil and have your nerves stilled by memories of your father. 

   He calls out your name, hot on your heels as you stomp to the truck. You won't turn around. You will not fall for it again. 

   "Doll please, hear me out." That damn name always turned your legs to jelly. Not tonight. You whip around, hair flying wildly around your shoulders. He comes to a jolting stop and looks at you with begging eyes. Your finger comes up to point at him, you take two stomps forward and place it firmly on his chest. 

   "Do not fucking call me that. Stop fucking following me." You say as firmly as you can, trying to hide the pain behind the words. 

   "Please just listen." He says after a breath. His eyes soft and honest, those stunning eyes. Shit. You fell for it. 

   You cross your arms and look to the side, following some tail lights down the road. 

   "I am so sorry…" He says with a weak voice. 

Part Two

#bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky x reader #winter solider x you #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #captain america #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes #marvel

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

The Triwizard Tragedy

summary: a collections of moments between Rachel & Cedric before his death. Also her coping with his passing afterwards.

warnings: depression, ptsd (maybe), death

October 25, 1999 - The Present -

Rachel was constantly wrong, about a lot of things. For one, she was not the first person to ever feel the pain of lose. Second, she would eventually heal. But it didn't feel that way. Not to her. Not now.

In the dawn of war, Rachel had returned to her alma mater to fight against the very person who had taken away the love of her life. Cedric Diggory had died years ago, leaving a cocky, lovable Hufflepuff sized hole in her heart. For the last few years of her schooling, she had distractions from the pain left, right, and centre. In the midst of war she never really had time to grieve.

Of course, she never had any direct contact in battle with Lord Voldemort, but sending a few death eaters to their graves was enough. But that didn't make her feel better, instead the reminder that she had taken lives, even on a battlefield, had her waking up screaming in the middle of the night, traumatized by the memories of the past. The ghosts roaming her mind. It was like a constant stinging reminder that the pain she felt over losing Cedric, someone definitely felt about the men she'd hurt during the war. She knew she was on the right side, and those men were evil. But it still felt as though there was no coming back from ending a life.

Her best friend and roommate (until he moved in with Angelina Johnson, but that has never been truly talked about) is the only person that Rachel was really close with. Everyone else she knew was left at arms length. Never getting close enough to hurt her.

George knew what she was feeling, probably worse. He had lost the most important person in the world to him. And he'd never be the same. But he was managing. He had the legacy of the Wheezes, and he had his family. He had his fiancée and his best friend, who he was deeply worried about. He'd tried to talk to her about the clear PTSD and grief she displayed, but like a switch she would shut off whenever the conversation would start. Once she shut off, she was a robot for days, and he couldn't risk doing that too much for fear that something horrible would happen to her. He was afraid he was going to lose her to herself.

And he couldn't lose her.

You see, after the war, after feeling like nothing would ever be okay again. Rachel pounded on the door to the closed shop of the Wheezes. When George continued lying in Fred's bunk bed, she broke in. She climbed into bed with him and they stayed there for days. Leaving only to use the bathroom and eat. Then she snapped her fingers, and said, "let's get this baby back into business."

And just like that, they had a distraction to focus on instead of dealing with their pain. The difference between the two was that George would frequently talk to his siblings, and reach out to them when he needed support. Rachel was like a brick wall, and wouldn't say a word even as she wept alone in her room.

George couldn't let it go on forever, soon she'd die of a broken heart. So he did what any confused, young man would do. He ran to his mother and asked for help.

"I think that maybe I'm not the one who's going to pull her out of this, mum. I've tried but I think I'm too close to it to see what she needs."

Molly only smiled slightly, and took a day - with the help of Hermione, to head to the Wheezes and try and talk to Rachel. The store closed early on Sunday's, giving both Rachel and George the afternoon off. Ron took the entire Sunday since the mornings were slow anyway.

Rachel didn't notice at first that this was a gentle intervention, and put on a cup of tea for both of her guests. Hermione casually strolled around the shop, giving some space to Molly and Rachel.

Rachel served the tea.

"How are you doing, honey?" Molly asked, trying to sound as light as possible, not wanting Rachel to shut her out.

"I'm fine, store could use a little cleaning tonight, and I might get a head start on the inventory night for tomorrow."

Molly suspected she'd be filling her time with distractions this week. Saturday would've been Cedric's birthday. Molly thought for a moment, and decided to just go for it, and fill Rachel's head with Cedric before Molly could be shut out.

"How old would he be?" she asked. She knew the answer, but she needed to talk about Cedric. That was the root of Rachel's pain.

Rachel quickly went as stiff as a board, as her head filled with images of the boy she loved so much. The boy who took her heart and died with it still in his possession.

"What is this?" Rachel asked, standing from the table. "How dare you?"

"I just want to help you, Rachel. You're wasting away in here. We're worried about you," Molly said, "We love you and we want to help."

"Who's we? You and Hermione?" Rachel asked, Molly stayed quiet. "Did George put you up to this?" Rachel sighed. "Of course he did. Well if I'm causing this much stress maybe I should just get out of his hair then."

Rachel left the room, and climbed to her bedroom. Angrily, she threw clothes into a trunk, crying and repeating how everyone should just leave her alone. She sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets in her hands until her knuckled turned white. She had pushed Cedric out of her mind for so long, and his memory was like a dam bursting, filled her head until she was drowning in her pain.

November 16, 1992. - Fourth Year -

Rachel held her potions textbook tight against her chest, willing this git Marcus Flint to give her back her essay. He persisted in trying to get a kiss from her.

"Come on, who says Gryffindors and Syltherins have to be enemies? We can be sweethearts instead," he said, grinning.

Gross.

She rolled her eyes, and once again told him to just give it back. She didn't have time for this, it was almost dinner time and she had plans to meet her friend afterwards to play chess. Also, she just didn't particularly care to be harassed.

"I'm not giving it back until I get a kiss, love."

"Not happening," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, then I guess I'll keep this. I don't need it but I bet I could sell it to someone in your year. Last chance, love."

"Give her the parchment back, Flint," a boy said, approaching the pair. He was a Hufflepuff prefect, and absolutely stunning. She knew him as Cedric Diggory, all the girls did. He was in the year above her, so there was no way he knew who she was. She felt her cheeks heat up as Cedric came to save her homework. She could've turned into putty right then and there.

"Who's gonna make me? You? You've got no power over me, Diggory."

"No, you're right about that. Except I am a prefect, and I would hate for Snape to hear about this, I really would."

"He'd take my word, he wouldn't believe you."

"He'd believe her, top marks in his class you know. Above all the Slytherins," he said, smirking. "And he'd know you definitely didn't write that. All the words are probably spelled right."

"And if I rip it right now, burn it even. How are you going to prove it?"

Rachel saw Snape rounding the corner only a few feet away from where they were standing. He had an extra sour look on his face, the kind of face he made when he knew he'd have to discipline someone from his own house. Marcus hadn't noticed him approach yet.

"I won't have to."

"I'll take the essay, Mr Flint," Snape said, putting a hadn't on Marcus' shoulder. Snape unrolled the essay, skimming over it briefly. "You disappoint me, Mr Flint. Five points from Slytherin, and an essay on why stealing is wrong to be on my desk by the end of tomorrow."

Snape looked at Rachel and scowled, before giving her back to essay and leaving. Marcus huffed off as well.

"Thanks, I really didn't want to do that twice," she said. She wanted to ask how he knew she had top marks, but she figured he was bluffing. Good thing Marcus hadn't called it.

"No problem, Rachel. Happy to help," Cedric said, walking off.

She took a breath and began walking towards the Great hall, before stopping dead in her tracks and turning around in time to see him turning the corner, out of her sight.

He knew her name?

October 25, 1999 - The Present -

The pain in her chest was agonizing. It was like her chest had been set on fire, while her mind filled with water and froze. The tears continued to fall, as her white knuckles began to fall numb. She was suffering. She'd never really let herself grieve over Cedric. She stuck to distractions, and numbing herself.

Turns out she couldn't stop the pain, only postpone it. And today it was coming back with interest.

Rachel heard the door open, and relaxed her hands, letting the blood flow return, making her hand tingle with pins and needles.

She looked up and saw Hermione peeking her head in. The girls used to be a lot closer than they were today. That was how it was with pretty much anyone that used to be close with Rachel. After Rachel's sixth year, aside from Fred and George, she'd pushed away everyone, and shut them out. Refusing to give anyone the power to leave her.

"He would've been 22," Rachel said, her voice no louder than a whisper. Hermione said nothing, but continued to look at Rachel. She'd never seen her look so weak. It was always hidden. Suffer in silence.

"Not to say you're wrong to miss him, and hurt over the fact that he's gone. But we've all lost people. And we've survived by dealing with it. That's all we want for you, we just want you to experience life again." Hermione sat down on the bed next to Rachel, and put a soft hand on her shoulder. Rachel genuinely couldn't remember the last time she'd been shown physical affection from anyone. She hadn't hugged anyone since Fred died. “We miss you.”

“I think I miss me, too.” Rachel sighed. “But I miss him, more.”

February 12 - Fourth Year -

Rachel crossed paths with Cedric Diggory again, less than a week later. He was standing in front of the Great Hall, talking to a friend of his – Jon, she thought his name was. And she was passing by, trying to escape without having to make eye contact with him. She knew that if she saw his beautiful smile, or the way his grin made it up to his eyes, letting you know that everything about him was genuine. It made her sick. Made the butterflies in her tummy jump to life, like a toddler was running through and disturbing them.

“Hey, Rachel!” Cedric said, thwarting her plan. “Wait up.”

She had no choice to, there was no way to pretend she didn't hear him. She turned around with a forced smile. Small talk is easy to fake, just get through it.

“You okay?” he asked, his grin fading into concern and he put a hand on her arm, immediately setting it on metaphorical fire.

“Yeah, uh, I just need air.”

She ran away.

From the cutest boy in the world.

She ran.

Was she ever embarrassed.

She made it to the entrance of the school, and sat on the top stair. Putting her head in her hands and trying not to cry of embarrassment. When the guy you develop a crush on touches you... don't run away, maybe? A couple of deep breaths later, and someone joined her outside. Cedric had followed her out here? Why? He didn't even know her.

“You're pretty quick,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. She said nothing. “You want to talk about anything?”

“How'd you know my name?”

“Uh, we met last year.”

She shook her head. “No, why didn't. I would've remembered that.”

A blush crept onto his cheeks, and he looked away from her. Now she was really confused.  “I might have asked your friends about you.”

“What? Why? They never said anything.”

“I kind of lied to them, and said I was just trying to learn everybody's name. They pointed out like forty people before they got to you. Funny thing is, I don't remember any of the other names. I was just anxious to get to yours.” His grin was back on his face, but his cheeks still held the ghost of a blush.

“Why me?” she asked.

“Because I think you're beautiful,” he said without skipping a beat.

Rachel blushed, her eyes growing wide. He chuckled when she looked away. Between the pair of them the only pattern was a 'blush and turn.' Casually, Cedric slide closer to her, so their thighs were touching, and from the corner of her eyes she saw him drumming his fingers against his knee. With a relax face, and natural smile she looked over at him, and tried to find an ounce of a lie in his features. When she couldn't find one, she settled for just smiling at him. He smiled back. When she thought the moment was ending, he was planning to start a new one. He moved his hand up to her neck, and ever so gently guided her closer, giving her every opportunity to move away. When she started moving with his advances, he smirked. Drawing her in for the final collide of a kiss. They both knew they were goners, right then and there.

Hogwarts was truly magical.

October 25, 1999 - Present Day -

“I can't think about it anymore, Hermione. It hurts,” Rachel said. “It hurts so much.”

“I know,” she said, tearing up. Hermione felt pain in her chest watching Rachel breakdown. Was t weird for her to admit it was better to see her breakdown than shut down? Felt like they were having a break through. “Tell me about the day.”

“Which day?”

“The day he died.”

“No, no, no, no...” she kept repeating no, but Hermione stood her ground.

“You need to talk through your feelings. I have all day. Just start stalking and if you need to stop and cry, or collect your thoughts. Fine, that's absolutely fine. But I'm afraid if you wait any longer your going to permanently stunt your emotions.”

“It hurts...”

It felt like Hermione was forcing razors down her throat. Felt like she was fighting against drinking a lava smoothie. If she recounted the day, after all these years. She could no longer deny he was dead. Could no longer hope that one day he'd walk through the door as if he hadn't missed a day. Could hold her and tell her everything would be fine.

June 24, 1995 - Fifth Year -

She sat crossed legged on the bleachers, on edge just as everyone else was. She was so hoping that Cedric won. She'd be so proud of him. Her boyfriend, the Triwizard Champion. Even thinking the words made her excited.

“I thought you hated the idea of the whole thing,” Hermione said, eyeing her friend.

“I've come around to it,” Rachel said, smiling. “He's been so proud of himself. And I've been proud of him. And I'll admit, every time he completes one of those challenges, and he's all proud and sweaty... it's pretty sexy.”

“You're shameless,” Hermione said, laughing.

“Maybe.”

Then someone appeared back at the start of the maze. Harry came back first, he won! Rachel got ready to cheer, happy that at least Hogwarts won if not Cedric. But then she noticed something else.

“Is he knocked out?” Hermione whispered, talking about Cedric.

There was a commotion down there, and immediately Rachel was fighting and shoving her way down the the area. She hopped over the wall and made it, staring at the body of her body, lying lifeless on the grass. She heard things going on around her, but she couldn't make out details. The air around her felt thin, she couldn't breath. She felt dizzy, and confused, and upset. What was going on? What happened? It's okay, he's just petrified she kept repeating in her head. But she knew that wasn't true.

On her arms she felt two cool, firm hands. She looked and saw Professor McGonagall gently shaking her, and telling her not to look. The words, Do you hear me? Rachel, don't look! Don't look! Didn't even register with her. She kept staring at Cedric's face. His beautiful face. Frozen.

Cedric wasn't going to wake up. He died out there. The air got thinner. And her throat got tighter. But she didn't even realize she was dizzy – she just kept staring at Cedric until tears streamed down her face. But it wasn't even crying, she just hadn't blinked in so long. She couldn't stop looking at her recently deceased boyfriend.

“What's happening?” she asked, but it came out in a wheeze. And only a few seconds later, Rachel passed out, falling onto the ground like a ragdoll.

October 25, 1999 - Present Day -

After recounting every second of that day, Rachel wept for another twenty minutes before the tears finally stopped.

“I never got to say goodbye. There was so much wee were supposed to do. So much I had to say. So much left,” she said. Hermione still hadn't spoken. “I was so mad at him, Hermione. For weeks I was so mad at him. I kept thinking, I knew this tournament was going to be a horrible idea. And I begged him not to enter. I begged him, but he did it. And I supported him – like a girlfriend is supposed to. And then he died. And I was mad.” Rachel didn't start crying again, but her throat tightened and she felt like it could start at anytime. “How am I supposed to move on from perfection? From someone who loved me so genuinely, and selflessly? From someone who didn't break up with me but is just... gone.”

“You don't move on,” Hermione finally said. “He's never going to leave you. He's always going to be a part of you, you have to know that by now. I get that you feel guilty for living when he isn't, but you have to remember he wouldn't want you to waste your life. He wanted more for you than anyone. You don't move on, you don't forgive and forget. You forgive and carry on his memory, because that's all you can do. And one day, when your kids, or my kids, or George's kids... someone, asks you about your first love. You tell them. You tell them that you fell in love with a beautiful guy who was a perfect gentleman. And you tell them that you still love him, and you will always love him. But love doesn't stop because a heartbeat did.”

Rachel sat unmoving during Hermione's whole speech.

“Did you rehearse that?” she asked, smiling.

Hermione laughed. “Yes I did.”

For the first time in years, Rachel thought she might be okay one day. She just needed to let them in. Let her friends back in.

June 1, 1995 - Fifth Year -

“Not still mad at me, are you?” Cedric asked, sitting between his girlfriend's legs, propping his elbows on her knees and sinking back into her chest. Even, yes, she was still mad – she loved when he tucked himself close to her. She continued reading her book without answering him, letting go with one hand to get comfortable. She raised the book above his head, and set her now free palm on the grass, feeling the blades between her fingers. “C'mon, babe! Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen.”

She sighed, and closed her book with one hand, making sure to use enough pressure to let it slam with a clap. “They cancelled these games because people kept dying, you realize that?”

“I'm not going to die,” Cedric said, stretching himself up to nuzzle his nose against her neck. She sighed contentedly at the softness of his hair, brushing against her sensitive neck. He laid a few gentle kisses on the skin there, before slacking back down to his original lazy posture. “Cute that you're so worried about me though.”

“It's not cute,” she said, rolling her eyes. She set her book down and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing the side of her head against his. He laughed, and turned to kiss her cheek.

“I love you, always and forever.”

She sighed happily. “I love you, forever and always.”

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