#⁽ inner molly is wheEZING. ⁾

[wildcstwinter]

it hurt. thinking about it hurt. talking about it hurt. mertle didn't know if having molly going through the same thing made her feel better or worse about it, but the constant onslaught of swelling emotions was nauseating. mertle curled up tighter, her ribs whining at the pressure her bent spine was putting on them as she tucked her knees to her chest, clutching onto the younger as if she were on the only, tangible thing left in this universe. fearful that if she'd open her eyes, molly will have vanished right along with the rest of them. the whole town was in mourning; or in an upset, or an outrage . . . and with how loud it felt inside her own skull, the redhead was desperate for some semblance of quiet. it seemed she'd never find it. not within the seemingly finicky borders of this town.

she knew what molly was doing, and in her state of distress, mertle couldn't fully appreciate it. the cry built rapidly, the panic and guilt dancing a waltz between her left and right temples, her face flushed as she scrunched it to try and keep the magma of her complex thought from boiling over. " i don't know , " she croaked. fuck, this sucked. mertle had lost someone once ; someone she loved. her father was still very much alive and was simply picky about when he wanted to be a dad and when he didn't — yet the ache was all the same. that familiar, blinding ache that made it easier to count the stars on the backs of her eyelids than the fingers on her hand. " i feel like — my head. god, it — it feels like it's going to explode, " she found herself confessing, bringing both heels of her hands to press against the speckled skin of her forehead. " i don't know — i don't know what i'm going to do if they don't — if they don't come back . . . " mertle knows what she'd do; she'd spiral. she'd lose it. she'd lock herself in her apartment and the world would be lucky if she were to never show her face again. nausea swelled again, more violent than the times previous, raising bile in her throat. usually she could swallow it down but her impending sobs made that task impossible. mertle suddenly leapt up from her couch and clamped both her hands over her mouth, her stomach turning and twisting as air continued to refuse entry into her lungs.

making it to the bathroom was not an option, so she opted for her kitchen sink, pushing her fingers through her hair to get it out of her way as she heaved up the distress that had been roiling in her stomach. hot, burning tears soddened mertle's cheeks as she gagged, stomach acid singing the inner lining of her esophagus as the organs lack of contents made an effort to spew themselves forward. one hand then moved to clutch the edge of the counter, knuckles paper white as she choked on a sadness she never wanted to feel again. " fuck, " she cursed, wheezing for breath, the nausea still stirring but her body having nothing left to give. she stood there for a moment, head bent, chest heaving before lifting a limp hand to turn on the faucet to wash it all down, down, down.

" sorry — i . . . i don't know why that happened i just — " words interrupted by the scooping of water into her mouth, coughing as persistent sobs made swallowing it damn near impossible. " — fucking fuck. "

"Oh." Molly nodded, slowly, digesting this information. It didn't really bother her. She didn't deal with much bullying one way or another in school; she stressed herself out about fitting in, but it was her thing, no one else really alienated her or was mean to her. And she wasn't mean to them. She might have grew annoyed with other students, rolled her eyes from time to time, especially if that's what the popular girls were doing, but she certainly wasn't a bully. "I guess everyone's freaking out about someone, huh?" It seemed unlikely that as many people were missing, there was anyone in town left unaffected at all.

She was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to cheer Mertle up, how to make her not feel so much like her whole world was collapsing around her. She was useless with her mother, but maybe she was a better friend than a daughter. "Do you think they're all together? My brother and... Lilo," she remembered after half a beat, "and Fred?" Molly gently nudged her friend's shoulder with her own, a soft bump that she could only wish would knock some of the stress and the sadness off. She would carry it for her, if she could. There was no point in both of them being miserable, was there? "I bet Fred is talking their ears off about you right now, you know. But maybe that's keeping Andy from telling them some embarrassing story about me."

[imholeyfred-geddit]

Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where Maybe he’s dating a muggle after the war. That would be pretty cute

Ok! Sorry for being late, I've been busy for the past couple of days :)

After It All || f.w.

Character: Fred Weasley x muggle!Reader

Summary: Fred meets you in a coffee shop, having seen you around with Hermione, as you are one of her friends from the muggle world.

Warnings: crappy writing, idk, and really crappy writing

*I had to add this gif because it's so cute omg*

It'll get better.

Fred repeatedly tells himself that. Ever since the war, he's been having nightmares, even if it was five years ago. Almost losing your life is not a very easy thing to forget.

He's been walking around more often in the muggle world, fascinated by the television's in the windows, the trains underground, and his inner Arthur Weasley comes out in those moments.

Fred walks down the street in London, making his way over to a new coffee shop that just opened up. As he walks in, the door jingles and alerts the cashier.

As Fred orders, you sit in the corner of the shop, your friend Hermione Granger sitting across from you.

"He was a scumbag," you state glumly, as you tell her about the guy you dated for almost two years before finding out he was cheating.

"Don't worry, Y/N, how long ago was this?" Hermione asks, feeling sorry for the girl in front of her.

"A week ago, then two days after I kick him out he texts me that he needs me!" Your wild hand motions alert Fred and he looks over you.

Noticing Hermione first, he calls out,"Oi! Hermione!"

She looks over your shoulder to see one of her brother-in-laws. She waves him over as you put your head in your hands.

"Oh, Fred! How are you? Molly's worried; says you haven't wrote her in a week!" Fred just chuckles.

"I'm fine," he brushes her off, then gestures to you. "Who's this?"

You finally look up and hold out your hand for him to shake. "Y/N L/N, I'm Mione's very best friend, after those two blokes, Harry and Ron." You then notice Fred's vivid red hair.

"You wouldn't be related to Ronald Weasley, would you?"

Now Fred holds his hand out. "Fred Weasley," he gives you his famous mischievous grin, and you feel a pull in your nerves.

-

After his encounter with you, Fred kept seeing you everywhere. At Ron and Hermione's house, at the coffee shop, whether you're alone or with friends, even at the park close by to his flat.

You already knew about magic, having known Hermione since birth and being there when she told you she was a witch. You never told anyone, and she was grateful for it.

Fred being Fred and you being you, both of you formed a new friendship full of teasing and flirting. You would meet up in the coffee shop, and sometimes in the park.

"How's the joke shop going?" Fred told you about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and it fascinated you, all the different products and the things they could do.

"It's going really nicely actually, ever since the war, we've had more and more customers. Our Skiving Snackboxes are still the most popular."

-

Hermione has noticed the change in you whenever Fred was around, just like how Ron noticed the change in Fred whenever you were around. The two made it their mission to set you up, because it was painful how oblivious you two where.

Fred would constantly flirt with you and deflate a little whenever you left the room. He would stutter around you, the simplest compliment making the tips of his ears red.

Your cheeks would heat up when he stared at you, your heartbeat going a mile a minute at every touch, even if it was a simple hand on your shoulder.

One day Hermione told you, "Can you meet me at the park?" While Ron asked Fred the exact same thing.

You got ready, wondering what Hermione needed. You walked into the park, sitting on the bench as you waited for her, but she never showed up. Then you heard footsteps. Expecting Hermione, you looked in that direction, but saw Fred instead.

"Hey, Y/N," he gave you a cheeky smile. "Have you seen Ron?"

"Nope, I would ask if you had seen Hermione but it seems they set us up." You 'tsked' mockingly.

The two of you were silent for a bit, Fred thinking about asking you out. George pestered him about it last night. This was his chance.

"Y/N-"

"Fred-"

The two of you chuckled lightly, your laugh being music to his ears. Dang, he really was in deep.

"You go first," you laughed.

He took a deep breath.

"Wanna go out to eat sometime? I - er - not like we usually do for coffee - but, like - a date maybe?" He mentally cursed himself for stuttering like an idiot, before you smiled softly at him.

"Yeah, that would be nice," he grinned at you before kissing your cheek. You blushed as you both got up walking to a restaurant Fred kept telling you about.

Behind that bench, Ron and Hermione sat under Harry's invisibility cloak, high fiving each other for the match they just made.

And to Fred, it did get better after all.

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

Unpleasant Van Der Linde Gang Headcanons

Deep down, Abigail resents John for getting her pregnant. She loves Jack more than anything in this world, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t often daydream about where she would be if She never met John. These thoughts are always accompanied by a feeling of guilt. She’s ashamed of her inner thoughts, and tries not to dwell on them long.

Dutch cries himself to sleep most nights, even years after Arthur’s death. His biggest regret was ever doubting his real family. It’s the same routine every night- he stares into his lonesome campfire and drinks himself into a sobbing mess. He has a copy of the same group picture Pearson has hanging in his shop. He keeps it in his pocket and looks at it often. He often thinks about what Hosea would think of him now. Hosea’s familiar disapproving scowl would take the forefront of Dutch’s mind and no matter how much he drank he couldn’t escape the crushing feeling of failure. His dreams are always haunted by those he has hurt; some nights it’s Susan, others it’s Eagle Flies, sometimes it’s the strangers who’s names he’s long forgotten. Most nights, it’s Arthur- Arthur wheezing and begging, staring up at him with those big sad eyes. The eyes of a son betrayed by his father. He wakes up with dried tears on his cheeks.

Tilly still wakes up in the night screaming. Her husband is a soft spoken, patient man who tries to help anyway he can, which is usually just wrapping his arms around her shoulder and reassuring her that she’s okay. Tilly is thankful for him, but even his tender words can’t take away the memories that flood her dreams- flashes of being held captive by the Foreman boys, Micah’s grimy hands touching her in secluded corners of camp, the countless bodies she had seen on her journey- his big arms couldn’t push away the terror that gripped her ever so tightly.

Pearson’s alcoholism never got any better- if anything it got worse after he took over the general store in Rhodes. From the time he was a young lad he had only been taught one way to deal with emotions- hard liquor. He passes only a few years after taking over shop due to liver failure.

Since Molly disappeared so suddenly with Dutch, her family never knew what became of her. She was never given a proper burial and was quickly forgotten by the rest of the world.

Mary-Beth still thinks of Arthur often. Her biggest regret was never telling him how she felt, that the night he danced with her her heart felt light as a feather. Her husband reminds her a lot of him- he’s not nearly as rugged and she’s fairly certain he’s never held a gun in his life. She visits his grave often to read him her stories, he always encouraged her writing and told her if she ever had a book published he would draw the cover art for it. When she released her first book, she lent Arthur’s journal from John and used one of Arthur’s old sketches.

Sadie never settles down or even courts after Jake. When asked by John or Abigail she’ll blow it off as “ain’t found a man who can handle me yet” or “I’m too busy to settle down.” When I’m relaity, she’s scared. The loss of Jake shook her to the core and she wasn’t sure if she could handle losing anyone else. Sadie outlives John, Abigail, and Charles and it weighs heavily on her heart. With all her loved ones gone, her life feels dreadfully empty and alone.

Karen doesn’t live long after leaving the gang. With no where to go and not a cent to her name she mostly sat outside saloons and begged strangers for not money, but drinks. She passes on a cold winter night, freezing and hungry. Another member of the gang forgotten completely by history and swept under the rug.

Javier blames himself when Dutch disbands the rest of the gang. Was he not loyal enough? Did he not try hard enough to keep everyone together? He watched Arthur deteriorate, turned his back on John and his family, for what? He thought he was making the right choice and it left him alone and half mad.

In his last moments, Arthur felt regret. He tried to push away his human sense of selfishness in his last days but as the life escaped his body he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He wished he would’ve paid closer attention to Dutch’s mental well-being. He wished he would’ve ran off with Mary when he had the chance. More than anything, he wished he could’ve had a family and children. As he laid on that mountain, cold and alone all he could think about was how different his life could’ve been. His heart was shattered as he watched Dutch turn his back on him. Not only because he was losing his father, but because he traded a normal life with a family for a hard life on the run for a man who left him to die. In his last moments, Arthur Morgan hated himself for the decisions that led him down the path he chose.

Jack doesn’t really remember his Uncle Arthur but doesn’t want to admit it to his parents. They both revere him so much Jack feels like they would dislike him if he admitted to it. Sometimes he stares at the framed picture of Arthur while John and Abigail aren’t around, trying desperately to resurface a long lost memory. He loves reading Arthur’s journal though. The eloquent way Arthur wrote mixed with the gorgeous pictures that were drawn inspired Jack to write his first book- Red Dead Redemption: the Story of the Infamous Van Der Linde Gang.

[lizzie-boo]

What’s in a Name?-Ficmas Day 11

Bill Weasley x Reader 

Words: 1,180

A/N: I’m sorry but this is angsty as fuck. Should I do a part 2? I know that there is definitely potential for a part 2 and if you want I can write it for another day of Ficmas. 

Part Two  Part Three

~~~

From the day you were born you had a last name printed on the inside of your arm. It was something that everyone was born with. The last name would act as an indicator of who your soulmate would be. Ever since you were old enough to understand the meaning behind the word scrawled on your skin you fantasized about meeting your soulmate. You pictured meeting them going hundreds of ways and none of them had ever been close to what actually happened.

You had just moved from America so you were eager to explore all the new wizarding shops. You had been told that going to Diagon Alley would be a good place to start and get used to the way they did things here. You walked down the streets taking in each storefront and mentally logging which you wanted to go back to. Making your way down you noticed a large orange store.

The sign said Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and you stopped in shock. Pulling at the sleeve of your shirt you looked down at your arm and then back up at the sign. The word Weasley was inked into your skin. The last name of your soulmate was on a sign outside of the shop.

Rushing towards the store you ran inside, excited to possibly get to meet the person you were destined to spend the rest of your life with. Your hands came down on the counter with a loud slam. Catching your breath you looked up at the red-haired man behind the counter.

“What’s your name?” you demand.

“Not from around here I see,” he replies with a smirk.

“Answer the question,” you tell him, your eyes sparkling with eagerness.

“I’m Fred Weasley.” He tips his hat causing you to laugh at how he was playing it up.

You checked your arm once more before turning to look at him. Without asking you reached for his arm. He tried to pull it away but the need to know seemed to take control and you successfully pushed his jacket sleeve up his arm. The name inked on his inner arm wasn’t your last name and you let all the excitement that was brewing fade away.

“What’s going on?” he asks watching as your expression does a complete flip.

“I saw the sign outside and got excited. My soulmate is supposed to have your last name.” You trace the delicate lines of the word as your eyes well with tears.

“Cheer up, there’s quite a few of us Weasley’s. Mum and dad just didn’t know how to stop.”

“Wait really?” you ask, the prospect of being so close to finding your special someone making you giddy once more.

“Yeah, why don’t you go meet my brother George, he hasn’t found his soulmate yet either. Matter of fact most of my family hasn’t.”

He tells you to go towards the back of the store and you will find someone who looks just like him. He tells you something about being the better-looking twin and you roll your eyes at him before heading towards the back wall. Just like Fred said there’s an identical red head rummaging through boxes.

“George?” you ask.

“Um yeah, who are you?” he asks while standing from the box.

“Fred told me to find you back here. I’m looking for my soulmate.” You hold up your arm so he can see his last name. He looks at it for a minute before rolling his shirt up. You take in the name and sigh again.

“Nope, not me,” you tell him while leaning against the wall, “and to think I was this close.”

“Hey, why don’t you come with Freddie and I back to the burrow once we close. We have a whole bunch of siblings. It might be one of them. Plus your small enough that I think we can stop you if you try and murder us.”

You let the last part slide as you thank him for helping you out. You spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know the twins and joking around with them. You ask them questions about what it’s like to own a joke shop and they ask you questions about what it’s like living in America. The time passes quickly and before you know it you're walking up to the front door of a towering home.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask, worried that their mum will be upset with having an uninvited guest.

“Trust me it’s fine,” George reassures.

“Can’t be worse than that time Charlie brought home a dragon and it almost burnt the house down,” Fred jokes causing you to laugh. Feeling slightly better you follow them into the house.

You’re quickly introduced to Molly who seems excited at the thought of one of her children finding their soulmate. She welcomes you easily and you feel yourself loosen up. Fred and George guide you into the living room where you quickly meet Ron and Ginny. Both of which have different names inked into their skin.

Your heart sinks a bit more concerned that you won’t find your soulmate here. You worry about intruding on a family and wasting their time when it isn’t the right one. A man walks in with a beautiful blonde woman hanging off his arm and your heart drops even more.

“Hey don’t be sad. That’s Bill he doesn’t believe in soulmates so he dating someone different. I doubt it would’ve been him anyway.” George moves towards his brother anyway.

Just to check he tells you over his shoulder as he struggles to get Bill to show him the mark. Finally wrestling the fabric up his arm he stops. Looking between you and the mark on his older brother's arm George’s smile fades.

“Come here.” Both you and Fred move to take a look at Bill’s arm. Upon seeing your last name on his arm you let a tear slip down your cheek.

While he was supposed to be your soulmate you saw the way he looked at the other woman. He genuinely loved her and you know that some stupid mark wouldn’t change that. Brushing your hair back out of your face you turn to make your way to the door. “Thank you for helping me but I need to go,” you tell the twins as a few more tears escape.

“There’s still time he might change his mind darling,” Molly tells you while squeezing your shoulder. You force a smile before walking out the front door.

You had finally found your soulmate, the person you had been dreaming about meeting for years and he was with someone else. He didn’t believe in the marking that you had been born with. It didn’t matter, you knew he loved her and you weren’t going to stand in their way. If he could find someone else so could you. Steeling your resolve you made your way home trying not to look down at the mark on your arm that felt like a stab in the heart.

[accio-kitty-malfoy]

New Fic

So, I got inspiration and started writing. It doesn’t have a title yet and the first chapter is relatively short, but I think I like the direction it’s taking itself in.

Please give me honest feedback. If I have written anything that you deem problematic please let me know and give me ways I can change it to improve it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633025/chapters/59514043

Rain pattered against the window. The sun had been blazing for two weeks without reprieve and everyone and The Burrow had been begging for even a small amount of rain or cool air. Mr Weasley was worried that his carrots, potatoes and rhubarb were going to shrivel up and his crop would be ruined, despite the watering charms he had put on them (he insisted that natural water was always better). Mrs Weasley was fretting about the heat ruining the cake she’d been painstakingly making for Ron and Hermione’s wedding and she swore that she was certain she’d seen one of the chickens faint. Hermione’s lists were practically disintegrating when touched and Ron had managed to get the worst sunburn Harry had ever seen. Ginny had been trying to practice for the Holyhead Harpies try-outs, but the ground had become hard and uncooperative and her hand were covered in blisters. Explosions and swearing could be heard frequently from the shed that George had built to start re-working on the Wheezes’ products, but he was adamant that the heat was making the magic temperamental. Harry helped everyone where he could, and it kept him busy.

 He was helping Ginny train when the rain came. He felt one drop at first, then another, and another. Then there was a torrential downpour and both him and Ginny stood where them were, shocked. The ground soon turned slippery with sludge and they both took the rare opportunity to let their inner child take over and they began pushing each other into the mud. When their sides ached from laughing and Ginny’s hair was brown from the mud, they went back inside. Harry had gratefully accepted a cup of tea and small plate of biscuits off Molly after a quick shower and Ginny had gone for a long soak in the bath that Harry had put on to run.

 The last few years had been hard. The war had ended, and they’d all grieved in their own ways. Molly had tried to keep everyone as close to her as possible. She had cried for days when Fleur and Bill had moved back to the cottage; believing that they were abandoning her. After a while she began to understand that they needed their space to heal and to try and be a married couple again. Ron and Hermione decided to stay at the Burrow under the condition that when they were married, they would move out. They’d been planning and building a small bungalow not far from The Burrow. Hermione and Ron had done the planning (Ron had drawn it all out) and they’d had help with the building from Dean and Seamus who had formed a construction business, gotten married to one another and adopted an ex racing Greyhound called Noodle. Neville had designed and planted a garden and small orchard.

 Charlie had stayed at The Burrow for the first year, then he’d gone back to Romania to begin rebuilding the Dragon Sanctuary. It had taken George the previous three years to heal enough to begin working on the Wheezes’ products again. He’d been dating Angelina for a year and he split his time between The Burrow and her flat in London. Harry had graciously accepted Molly’s offer to live with them at The Burrow. Technically he was the owner of both Grimmauld place and Godric’s Hollow, but he just didn’t have the drive to fix either of them up or face the memories that they held. Ginny and Harry had tried being a couple again for a while after the war, but they came to the realisation that they just weren’t right for one another. They loved each other, but they were not in love. Ginny devoted her time and passion to Quidditch, and she was better than Harry could ever have hoped to have been.

 The rain slowed steadily as Harry finished his cup of tea, nestled in the reading nook by the bay windows in the front room. He flicked his eyes to the door as Hermione walked into the room. She let him know that Molly was putting the food out on the table for dinner, then went to find everyone else. Ron was already in the kitchen, helping Molly set the table. He’d grown very fond of cooking after leaving Hogwarts and it was something that he loved doing alongside his mother. They’d made a pea and mint soup with fresh bread and pavlova with home grown berries for after. The family emerged from where they’d been working and relaxing and filed into the kitchen. They’d finally extended it using plans that Ron had drawn up the summer before. It made it much easier to fit everyone in and gave Molly more space to cook. It also had a magically enhanced pantry that kept each item of food in the specific conditions it needed to be in. The table and benches extended or shrunk depending on how many people needed to sit on it and spills magically disappeared. It was also fire resistant, which came in handy when Dean and Seamus stayed with them for a couple of months while their house was being finished.

 Ginny was the last person to enter the kitchen. She was wearing A tank top and shorts; her muscles twisting and tensing as she moved. Her waist length red hair was scraped back into a messy bun that flopped as she plopped herself down onto the bench next to Harry.

“Thanks for the muscle potion in the bath, my shoulders were killing me” She smiled at him before hungrily tearing off a chunk of bread and dunking it into the bright green soup. Harry smiled back and followed suit. The conversation flowed easily between the family. Ron and Hermione updated Molly about the finalisations of the wedding that was going to be held in three days’ time. Fleur and Bill were expected the next day and other guests would be arriving in the days after. Charlie was arriving late that evening due to an appointment he had that day. Arthur was thrilled that his garden had had a good watering and George was telling him about the breakthrough he’d had with a few of his products that day.

 After dinner Harry made himself another tea and went and sat outside. He was happy. He was at peace. But he knew that he would have to do something soon. He was growing bored of his nice existence. He knew he would have to get a job at some point and decide where he wanted to live. He had the choice of two inherited houses, or he could easily afford a flat, or even get Ron to draw up some plans for Dean and Seamus to build him a house. It was something to consider in the future. He knew that he couldn’t live off his inheritance and Molly’s kindness his whole life. He sighed and leaned back, cradling his tea between his hands. Ginny’s voice came from behind a nearby tree.

“You going to drink that, Potter, or just cradle it until it goes cold like you usually do?” She smirked and sat next to him. “Harry?” He looked up into her face. She looked apprehensive and took a deep breath. “I need you to do me a favour.”

“Sure, Gin, what is it?” His brow furrowed slightly, concern edging in.

“First I need to tell you something.” She sucked in another breath as if to steady the words that she was just about to say. “I’m not a girl. Harry, I think I’m non-binary. Or gender fluid. I haven’t quite figured it out yet.” Ginny dropped their eyes downwards and swallowed.

“Okay Gin,” Harry replied, “So what’s the favour?”

“I want you to cut my hair short. You’ve cut everyone’s hair in this house and it always looks awesome. Even Hermione’s, and you know she’s very particular about her hair, especially after the hairdresser that ‘specialised in black people’s hair’ messed it up so bad. I never thought she’d let anyone touch it ever again.”

“’Course I will Gin. How do you want it? We can have so much fun with it!” Harry could feel the excitement tingling at him.

“I’ll sleep on it. I want something edgy and awesome. Maybe some kind of quiff.” And they said that, they laid their head on Harry’s shoulder, contemplating different hair styles. He wrapped his arm around their waist and sipped at his tea. It was cold.

[emily-strange]

Growing Pains...

Chapter 4! Emmy has some confessions to make…

Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.

Pairing: None yet, eventual Micah x female OC.

Warnings: Swearing, One Excitable Irishman

Chapter 4

 I make my way through the trees and spot Sean sat lazily at the campfire. He sees me instantly and gives me a signal to stay where I am. I crouch down as he stands up and dramatically stretches to look around for Dutch. He makes eye contact with me and beckons me over. I put my head down and walk briskly to Sean. We give each other a small, quick low-five and I continue my walk to the horses. I grab hay from a bale and start feeding some to my horse, Jett. She’s a beautiful, white roan Nokota that Arthur helped me break when I was 13. That was my favourite birthday.

I start to brush her as Dutch comes to stand in front of me.

“Emmeline” he greets with clear annoyance in his voice. He stands with his hands on his hips and I glance to the campfire to see that Sean is watching. I glare at him and all he does is laugh.

“I was callin’ you” Dutch comments. I just continue to brush Jett while I speak and try to keep my voice light. “Oh, was you? Sorry” I reply.

“Yes. Yes, I was. Where were you?” I look at Dutch then and shrug, “Oh, around. Dozed off a bit after cleanin’”. All he does is hum and nod.

“Emmeline. I know you’re bored…” Dutch begins but I’m so tired of hearing his excuses!

“I’m not just bored Dutch. I’m useless here. You need to let me get back to what I do best.” I plead. I know to others it probably sounds like I’m whining. Like Molly does all the time. But Dutch knows me. He knows I’m not one to complain unless I feel it necessary. “I know we’re still in…dangerous terrain…but we need money to get outta it. You know I can help.”

Dutch looks to the ground and nods.

“Little miss, you’re the closest thing to a daughter I will ever have. I will protect you till the day I die. And if that means keeping you in camp while you curse ma name? Then that, miss, is what I will do.” He finishes his little speech with a kiss on my forehead. God I want to scream at him so badly but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Instead I clutch Jett’s brush tightly and when Dutch turns to walk away I throw it to the group with a thump.

I place my forehead against Jett’s but pull back when I see Bill and Lenny approach with Micah in tow. “Miss Grace” Bill greets as he and Lenny start to saddle their horses. As Micah gets closer, I can see that he’s changed into a black shirt and a waistcoat. I smile but he remains emotionless and even bumps my shoulder slightly as he passes. “Hey watch it!” Lenny shouts as he mounts his horse and gives me an apologetic smile.

“Thanks Lenny” I say trying to keep the hurt I’m feeling out of my voice, “You going to the homestead?” I ask and as Lenny starts to detail the plan, I chance a look behind him at Micah who’s saddling Baylock. Once he’s done, he gives him a treat from his saddlebag and places his forehead against his for a moment. Just like I do with Jett. The act is so, gentle.

I zone back in for the end of Lenny’s explanation and wish him luck. Telling him and Bill to be careful.

“Always am!” he replies happily and I watch them trot out of camp, followed closely by Micah who doesn’t even look back. I shake my head and will the tears I feel to just go away.

“Don’t be so stupid” I mumble to myself and close my eyes. I tilt my head up to the sky and do as Bessie taught me. I take a deep breath and start to count to 10. I make it to 7 before an overly excitable Irishman claps me on the shoulder and shakes.

“And how’t it go with Dutch ‘little miss’?” Sean laughs. I give a humourless scoff and just whisper “perfect” while I look at the ground. I can’t bring myself to explain how frustrated and upset I now am.

Sean seems to consider me and the camp for a few short moments before holding out his hand.

“Walk wid me?” he asks and after a moment I smack my hand into his. He tugs me through the camp towards the water and then along the shoreline. So that if anyone really wanted to, they could see where I am but still giving us privacy.

We walk for a good 5 minutes or so, talking about nothing in particular, until we reach a dry area far enough away from nosey ears. Sean plonks himself down on the ground and gets out his pipe. I sit next to him and lean back on my hands, enjoying the sun and quiet. For a few seconds.

“So. Super-secret circle. Talk.” he mumbles while fiddling with the pipe. I’ve been telling him for years that a circle definitely needs more than 2 people. I love how much he cares though and like Arthur, I won’t get away with pretending I’m fine.

“Okay. But super-secret. Swear on your da.” I say sternly. He holds up his hand, clutching the pipe to his heart. “I swear on me da and any other MacGuire folk out there.” he says.

We’ve been doing this forever. Finding a quiet place and swearing our oaths. It’d always be his da and for me, whichever brother I liked more at the time. It changed daily. I don’t even remember how it all started, just that since I met Sean, I felt like I had a real friend. He never judged me. Not that he really has a leg to stand on if he tried! But he’s never tried.

I’ve told Sean my deepest, darkest secrets and he’s told me his. Like when I was pouring medicine from different bottles into the fire one night as a child, just to see what would happen, and I caused a mini forest fire….not my finest moment. No one but Sean knows it was me and no matter how drunk that boy gets, he’s never told anyone.

“I don’t really know where to start,” I say “I feel like I want to scream at Dutch. He…”

“Nah nah, not Dutch” Sean interrupts and I quickly snap my gaze to his. He can’t mean? “I saw the way you lookt just then by da horses. Positively….forlorn” he teases, “that ain’t about old Dutch.”

I take a moment to breathe. I can feel my face heating up and I actually think I might be sick. When Sean sees my obvious distress, he softens and squeezes my knee reassuringly. “You can tell me Em.” He says quietly.

I nod. Of course I can tell him. He’s Sean. This is our circle. Or whatever a group of two is. A pair? Yeah, a pair. A secret pair. That sounds dumb.

“Em?” Sean’s voice breaks me from my inner monologue.

“Okay” I say quietly and close my eyes. Maybe this would be easier if I wasn’t looking at him. “I think I might…like someone.” After a couple seconds of silence, I open my eyes. Sean looks…relieved? He begins to chuckle.

“Is dat it? Jesus Christ Em, I thought you were pregnant or summit” he laughs. I find myself feeling quite alarmed at his admission. “What? Why!?” I ask while glancing down at my stomach and feeling it, “Do I look pregnant?!” Surely I can’t look pregnant, we hardly ate in Colter and since then its hardly been a banquet every night!

Sean’s laugher subsides and he shakes his head. “No no, course not. But I’ve never seen you look so…so upset and…and confused?” he explains with some difficulty. It’s almost as if his thoughts are as jumbled as mine are. “You like someone though dats good. Right? Oooh is it our young Lenny? He’s a fine chap.”

I smile at his excitement. “No, unfortunately it’s not Lenny. It’d be nice if it were actually. You’re right, he’s lovely.” I admit.

“It um, it ain’t Bill?” Sean asks tentatively. I can already see where his mind is going. He must have been watching me when they were getting ready to ride out. “No” I laugh “It’s not Bill Williamson”.

Sean dramatically performs the sign of the cross. Wrongly I should mention. And thanks God. I brace myself for the next question. If he thought it was Lenny and then we’ve ruled out Bill, I know where he’ll go next…

“Okay” he regains his composure, “So, Javier?”

For a moment all I can do is blink at him. Javier? Where did Javier come from?

“Um…no. Not Javier.” I say slowly. Almost like I’m confused by my own words.

“Why not? He’s a sexy man!” Sean shouts and I burst out laughing. I also feel the need to look around as knowing our luck Javier would be standing nearby and he’d be very confused. But also, probably very flattered. That man likes to know he’s fanciable.

“Yes, yes he is. Shush!” I giggle and Sean takes a big puff of his pipe. He blows out the smoke and pokes the top of it while scrunching his forehead like he’s in deep thought.

“Okay, so not Lenny or sexy Javier. Or Bill, phew by the way….hold up, I will fookin’ end him if it’s that O’Driscoll sod!” he shouts equally as loud. “Hey!” I shout back “1 he is NOT an O’Driscoll and 2 NO it’s not him”. I smack Sean on the arm for being so mean about Kieran, poor guy.

“Well then I am fookin’ stumped.” he mumbles, throwing his arms in the air theatrically while holding his pipe in his mouth. He then seems to have a moment of clarity and I feel myself wanting to vomit again. He takes the pipe out of his mouth slowly and quietens down. “It” he clears his throat “It isn’t…me?” and this time it’s my turn to laugh.

“Alright!” he says mock defensively and I will myself to calm down. “No” I say through the deep breaths, “It’s not you Sean. I love you but….no” I finish with a kiss on his cheek. He smiles “Well thank goodness for dat. We’d make a great baby though if we were dat way inclined!” he states and we both laugh.

“Can you imagine? My brains, your hair! The kid would be unstoppable!” I wheeze and we take a moment to calm ourselves down.

Sean coughs and empties his pipe.

“Alright I’m done with the guessing game. Em, who do you like? But just know if you say Arthur or John, yes you are sick and yes I will dump you in the middle of nowhere to be eaten alive by wolves.” He smirks and at his statement I want to vomit but for a very different reason.

“Ew Sean, why?” I cringe before taking a deep breath.

“It’s um, it’s….Micah.” I whisper and look out at the water. I can’t imagine Sean’s face right now and I don’t want to look. His silence says everything.

“Right. Okay.” He says slowly and all of a sudden, he gets up and throws me over his shoulder.

“What the fuck Sean!!!” I shout as loudly as my position allows. He starts to walk further down the shoreline, away from camp.

“Well you’re clearly beyond hope so I’m gonna find some wolves.” Sean replies and I can only groan and hit him on the back. “Oh put me down you prick!” and with that he plonks me unceremoniously onto my feet. My hair is everywhere and I take a moment to pull my skirt down. Once I’ve gathered myself and the bloods rushed back to my brain, I see he’s laughing and I punch him in the arm as hard as I can.

“Ow! Violent little ting aren’t ya? Dat why Micah likes ya?” he laughs and I feel like I’ve been hit in the gut. All the wind has been completely knocked from my lungs and my eyes go blurry with tears.

It’s in that moment I realise, I like someone for the very first time.

And they don’t like me back.

[bygosscarmine]

We Who See Thestrals

A Harry Potter post-canon fic

Luna Lovegood X George Weasley

1860 words (total 10k)

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

3: The Difficulties of Employment

Halfway through the match, Angelina and Wood abandoned their heckling stream on Jordan's game commentary to get George some fresh air and slip him a few hangover spells.

Wood went back in without much further ado, but Angelina leaned over him as he slumped on the nasty alley wall.

"What's got into you, mate?"

"Angelina, I miss you," warbled George.

"Jibbering imps," she said. "What garbage. You know you and I weren't going to work out. It was too routine. And it was weird for us without…our other friends. We've moved on rather well, I thought. What's got you getting drunk during a lead-up match? Before half-time, no less? That's not you, George. You're worrying me."

"I'm worrying me," George muttered. "I don't know what it's about. I'll walk home."

"I'll walk you." She put an arm around his shoulders and started guiding him back down the street to his shop. He staggered slightly as they got to the door, and Angelina said, "Whoops," as the door opened under her hand. They walked in together, and there was a startled hiccup from inside. George focused consciously--it was Luna, stooped over one of the algae pets he'd stashed downstairs.

Three things happened almost simultaneously. His traitor redhead skin blushed so hard he could see it projecting beyond his skin, Luna jumped up saying, "Sorry, I lost track of the time", and Angelina did a double-take between them.

After Luna had hurried out the door past them, Angelina walked without hurry to the counter of the shop to get ready for a friendly interrogation. George wanted to hurl up his entire life.

"So. Luna's gotten lovely. She working here?"

"I can't…Angelina, have mercy. I feel like a baboon's behind."

"Fine," she said. "I am truly alarmed for you, George, but it's taken a new direction in recent minutes and I am fairly sure you'll live. So hang in there, drink some water. That's a love."

She walked back out. George mechanically locked the door behind her, and dragged himself up to the attic, out the cabinet, and down the stairs from his lab to his room. It felt like a very long way. He drank the water still on his nightstand from forgetting to drink it the night before, and tried to fall asleep.

He felt like hell the next morning, so he didn't even go up to his laboratory. The next day he had some meetings, so he apparated straight to Hogsmeade, then to Godric's Hollow. He ambled casually back in to his shop after a stop in one of the shops in Diagon Alley, saw the back of Luna, and quickly retreated upstairs again.

There was a bang downstairs the next afternoon, but he ignored it. Bangs usually meant someone was having fun, and he didn't feel much like fun.

Then someone banged on the outside of the cabinet door, and Rhodie came tumbling in.

"Mr. Weasley, please. Something's happened downstairs."

"What's happened?" he asked, insides turning to a Medusa's head of rising worry. "Is someone hurt?"

"I don’t think so, but I'm worried--Luna's in a state."

He hurried even more.

The shop was a near-silent scene of chaos. Two of the shelves had been blasted awry, while Luna pleaded, "Expecto patronum. Expecto patronum!"

A shield charm was between her and the wall, where green sparks were still flying from the Wildfire Whiz-Bang, and she stood in front of a small group of children who seemed to be petrified (possibly just by her terror) into staying still.

"Was she startled by the firework?" George asked Rhodie softly.

"Yes, I think so."

Luna's usually soft voice was defiant, threaded with fear, as she kept asking for her guardian to come, even while she tried to hold another spell. George walked first into her line of sight from a few steps away, then knelt in front of her, to not get between her wand and the threat she thought she was seeing.

"Luna, it's just a boggart. Riddikulus, say riddikulus."

He looked at the children behind her, and smiled. "Riddikulus!"

One of them repeated it, and another giggled. Luna whispered first, then said loudly, "Riddikulus!"

And she blinked, realizing where she was. Her wand dropped from her hand, and George started to grab it only to realize that she was dropping, too.

He caught her, the weight more than he had expected from feather-like Luna, and her fingers dug into his arms. "George," she said.

It was a question, but not about him.

"It's all right," he said, awkwardly holding her up from the side. "It was just a memory."

She straightened herself, gave a reedy laugh. "Not even a memory. Just a fear. A flash of green and a bang, like everyone's afraid to see again."

Not everyone had been at Hogwarts, when it all ended. And even of those, not everyone had lost people to loud bangs in childhood, like she had.

"Let's go get you a stiff drink."

She didn't lean on him on their way, which disappointed him slightly. It disappointed him in himself even more that he had kind of hoped for that. Since it was unfair to Rhodie, once at The Leaky Cauldron he set her up to take a nice break with a chatty witch up from the country and went back to the shop to help clean up.

Despite hearing all about Ms. Flybybough's garden tricks for repelling deer and snails, part of Luna's mind was very preoccupied with figuring out how she was going to move forward from this setback. Which taught her something, at least: she wanted to stay at the joke shop. After all, it hadn't been her idea.

"You need something to do with yourself," Hermione had decreed, the decision in her voice the same as when she had started any new project. "And it needs to be something where you'll be out with people. Don't argue. I'm not sure journalists are people, and if you do all your work by correspondence you aren't out with them. I'll ask Ron to get you a job at the joke shop."

The small part of Luna that always notified her when something was a bad idea, though she was going to do it anyway, flared. But she hadn't really puzzled much over why it could be a bad idea. Her new house was too new to have any comforting build-up of memories, and though it was an easy distance to London even without apparating, she wasn't good at organizing things, so she could only hope for other DA members to initiate meet-ups. For a while it had all been fine--being an adult and able to do whatever she wanted after graduating had been fun and new. But it had grown harder to not miss her childhood home, or Hogwarts, or even the bad days of fellowship in the Order of the Phoenix. Some, like Neville, thrived in the normalcy. She had thrived in times of disaster, as not needing to be normal.

But today she'd frightened children and had a panic attack.

And the Weasleys had been so kind, letting her come play shopkeeper. Which in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes meant playing shopkeeper who played with toys all day. She never did anything by halves (she was a Ravenclaw, after all) so she'd figured out everything there was to know about the items in the shop, without actually interrogating George about exactly how the enchantments on things worked.

And she'd liked going up into the laboratory and seeing the as-yet-unfinished ideas sitting around, gently sparkling with potential. She'd even started keeping a little notepad of ideas, which she felt needed a bit more work. But she might have to just pull a Gryffindor and talk about them before they were ready, because she liked her job here.

She also liked George. This was not a secret she tried to keep from herself, though she did usually pack it up like a roll of parchment for safekeeping at home before going in for work every day. After all, she'd liked George for a long time--most everybody had liked one or both of the Weasley twins in her year. Well, she supposed not everyone had liked them in the same way. But there had been a definite trend she had noted, of first being celebrity-struck by the two of them, and gradually beginning to distinguish them and pick favorites. Fred, with a slightly more manic energy and a tendency to wink at anyone he caught looking was the usual first favorite, with some moving on from him to the more self-assured and devious George.

This was probably part of why Luna's inner witch had hinted that coming to the shop was a bad idea. Other girls had moved on from their first-year crushes with a lot more grace, but....

"Blister-blots," said the familiar voice of Ginny, its slight rasp reassuring. "You've made a mess of poor George's beautiful shop. What have you to say for yourself? Oh, a Butterbeer for me, Tom. Mum's got all the kids for a moment but she better not smell anything stronger on my breath when I get home. She hasn't sent me a Howler since my marriage, but there can always be a first time."

"Did George call you here?"

"Not exactly," Ginny said, eyeing her friend dubiously. "I was out for errands and decided to drop in to see if he had a special order in for me. I'm trying to hide it from Harry until our anniversary. Harry is incredibly hard to hide things from, as one might suppose. George asked me to check in on you on my way out, which I thought uncharacteristically thoughtful of him. What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Luna admitted. "A firework went off with green sparks in it and I just was sure I was looking at a dementor or Death Eater. I've never had that happen before."

"Weird, isn't it? Really unpredictable, what will set someone off. Harry can't abide being in a tent but he deals with all kinds of explosions and nastiness every day. The other day I got incredibly upset, and couldn't figure out why, until my dad pointed out my mother's clock was jumpy about something Ron and Hermione were up to. Wish I hadn't had to think about that, since there's only so much danger a married couple could be up to at seven pm with their children at Granny Molly's. Oh, sorry," said Ginny, seeing the way Luna's face changed color. "I have the worst family trait. 'If I had to suffer the thought, now you do, too.' One of the few things Ron and I share besides the Prewett nose. Anyway, chin up. George deserves to clean up after other peoples' chaos a few times, and I despair of him ever having kids to really serve him right."

A silence fell. Ginny took a deliberate sip of her Butterbeer and grimaced at the sweetness. Then she gave Luna a sideways look.

"Let's take our drinks to a table, shall we?"

Luna did so, not wholly sure why but agreeable.

-

Read Chapter 3

[eerythingisshaka]

Wakanda Got Y’all Pt. 4

[Black Panther x Insecure Crossover]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N:  I know I said this would be the last chapter buuuuut....stay tuned for more!

Molly grips the edge of the counter her sink rests in as she takes a deep breath.  She tries to concentrate on the patterns in her bathroom walls as Erik does his work between her legs.

“How you feelin?”  He asks, looking up at her with a slight smirk.

Molly bites her lip, thinking about how she couldn’t believe she happening.  “It’s good, so far.”

Erik nods.  “Bet.  Lift that other leg up a bit.  I ain’t tryna miss nothin, you know?”

He taps her inner thigh with the back of his hand until she got the message, spreading herself further.

“You ever do this before?”  Molly asked nervously.

Erik bobs his head here and there.  “Ehhh, only one time I remember a female being really down for it, but everyone else is like, offended and shit.”

Molly exhales in disbelief, “Aww, for real?  Tsk, this saves me some wrist strain.  It’s nice to be offered, cuz I definitely wasn’t askin, who would?  Just don’t do too much, being an Edward Scissorhands and shit.”

Erik flexed his dimples as he licked his lips in concentration of her center.  He had already put in most of the work already, he just wanted to get to her outer lips a little.

Taking the razor in one hand, he places one finger against her outer labia for a flatter surface area, dragging the blade along her skin with the grain.  The scratchy sound of the razor taking down the stubble is the soundtrack to the room as Molly holds her breath awaiting him to finish.  She wanted to stroke his locs, but figured that would mess up his flow.  He wipes the razor off, repeating the process until she was clean.  

Erik nods, surveying his work with pride.  “There’s more than one way to skin a cat, but I think this is my favorite.”

Molly looks down for herself, feeling her freshly shaved exterior.  “Yeahhh, look at that?  You ever thought about doing this professionally?”

Erik stands in front of Molly, doing his shrug with a silly face.  “I don’t think I have.  But when I look into it, you can write my recommendation, in detail.”

Their shared laughter slowly faded into blank expressions as Molly felt herself heat with anxiety.  She studied Erik’s eyes dilating, plush lips just inches from hers, she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed.

Erik licks his lips. “You wanna do somethin else, now?” his voice saturated with testosterone fueled bass.

Molly stares at him, eyes wide, swallowing to keep her voice steady.  “Uh, I think you wanted to watch somethin on the TV….right?”

Erik looks down Molly’s body before returning to her face.  “If that’s it, you may wanna bring that leg down again.”

Molly curses under her breath as she pulls her dress back down, crossing her ankles.  

Erik chuckles, “You actin shy NOW is too damn funny.  That’s cool though, I’m bout to head out.”

Molly looks after him heading out her bathroom door.  “Wha-what about a nightcap?  My Netflix list is really thick, if you still wanna chill!”  She gets up to go after him.

Erik picks his jacket off her couch walking for her front door.  “Nah, I ain’t really been into what’s available anyway.”

As Erik turns back to her once more, Molly rubs her arm, wondering how to leave their conversation.  “Um, well, thanks for the shape up?”

Erik flashed his golds, lookin at the floor, “Yeah, thanks for trusting me with a razor after a drink.”

Molly stands there until she squints at him suspiciously.  “And that’s really gonna be it?  My pussy was on full display, and you ain’t tryin shit?”

Erik cocks his head to the side. “You tryna see my dick to call it even?”

Molly wheezes with embarrassment.  “Whaaaaa? Who said that? Don’t try me, ol boy!”

Erik steps to Molly, lookin straight down in her face, “You don’t act like you ready to try a damn thing, witcha shy actin ass,”  Erik says, practically growling.

Molly, gulps again.  Soon as Erik closes in on her, she is a puddle.  “I just don’t know you for real, or what to expect, you know?  It’s-”

Erik shakes his head, “See, you already thinkin too much bout it.  I’m here, you here.  I’m cool, you fine as hell...and I know you think the same.”

Molly kisses her teeth, “Nigga, don’t flatter yourself.”

ERik raises an eyebrow, “I could see it for myself.  The towel was necessary back there-”

Molly pops him in his arm, hurting herself more than him.  “Whatever, boy!  Go on then, I’m good.”

“You good?”

Molly nods.

Erik leans his head down hovering over her mouth.  They look in each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity, before Molly closes the gap.  Slowly they sucked on each other’s lips, like ripened fruit.  Molly caught herself leaning into a little further than she consciously meant to, before Erik pulls back.

“Maybe you ain’t so shy.  We’ll see though.  Call me when you need another appointment, Moll.”

Molly closes the door after him, leaning on the doorframe, completely hot and bothered.  

----

“And that’s all that happened?”  Issa asks her incredulously over a stack of chicken and waffles.

Molly shrugs, pickin at her food, “Girl, that was it.  My snatch was all there for him to do what he wanted, but all he did was help a sistah out.”

“Well I wish a nigga would offer me some salon care if I needed to clear some brush.  That oughta be a requirement.”

Molly laughs, “Could you imagine niggas going to a trade school to learn that because that’s what needs to be done to get pussy?”

“Shit, they do that for cars, clothes, and shit.  Get some skills that are useful for once, save a bitch a dollar.”

“Right?  So….. I don’t know.  He told me to call him if I need a touch up.”  Molly says.

Issa looks at Molly suspiciously, “Now, did he really say that, cuz he startin to sound kinda….” her voice trails off as she wiggles her hand side to side.

Molly screws her face up, “No, dang!  It’s a euphemism, no doubt.  But, I don’t know….”

Issa shrugs, “I know you not gettin cold feet after he has literally played with ya pussy already.  Somethin backwards about that.”

Molly waves her hands, “I know!! It just seemed too intimate to do that and NOT have sex.  I ain’t ready to be wifin niggas up or nuthin.”

“Girl, I’m sure he playin you as hard as you playin him, so don’t think too much.  Just call him up cuz I know you hate clingy dudes, so make your plans.”

Molly pulls out her phone side eyeing Issa.  “Pssh, whatever, miss know-it-all.  Swear you know somebody life.”  Molly grumbles under her breath.  As she texts Erik, she asks Issa, “What about T’Challa though?  When’s your movie date?”

“Umm, supposed to be tomorrow.  And it’s not a date, it’s just...an outing between colleagues to blow off steam.”

Molly scoffs putting down her phone.  “Is that what we callin it these days?  Is that why you asked me about the vaginal rejuvenation buy one get one free promo on Groupon?”

Issa rolls her eyes.  “Female hygiene/reproductive health is important.”

“Bullshit, you gettin ya walls waxed for a slip and slide.”  Molly quips.

“Ok!  I don’t even know what he is down for.  He from the motherland and everything, he might be saving himself.”

Molly pauses, pressing her fist to her mouth.  “It is the biggest misconception that these foreign fools out here all high and mighty, chaste.  Sure there’s some, but TRUST men are men, across all borders.  Food and women:  serve it up, they eatin.”

Issa talks out the side of her mouth.  “Everyone ‘cept you apparently….”

“Aight you can pay your own meal if you wanna talk.”

“Nooo!  I love you!  You’re so great!  Pussy is bomb, sure he gon nom!”  Issa sings beggingly.

---

The evening of the associate outing with T’Challa was less than an hour away, and Issa took her place at the mirror.  Looking at her fiercest rival, herself, she catches a rhythm in her head and start bobbing, feelin herself.

Yo, I been peeped that you really feelin me.

So the next step oughta come quite  naturally.

You can make ya move, but remember I’m the driver.

Don’t want a minute man, don’t even think of gettin tired.

Movie popcorn too high priced, it’s really wack

So how about you try making this nani ya snack?

New name alert, you can her goldfish

Make this pussy smile back, dip in my well and make a wish--

Issa sighs heavily, “Why you so damn horny?”  she touches up her eyebrows as her phone goes off.  T’Challa texts her saying he is on the way to the theatre.  Issa confirms, saying she is too.  She spends another fifteen minutes touching up her face and taking pictures for the ‘gram before heading out in her car.  

Issa bops to her Frank Ocean, getting good vibes and feeling completely full and ready for this night.  It was really starting to feel like a stress reliever.

Suddenly a bump hits her tire.  Issa stills herself as her car rolls violently and rickety down the street.  The rhythmic plop of her tire with every rotation signaled she just made herself a flat tire.

“Shit, shit, nooo!”  Issa curses out loud as she pulled over to the first lear space she could find on the side of the road.  Getting out she begrudgingly surveyed the damage: completely flat.

“Fuck!  Why me!”  Issa yelled to the sky as she clopped over to lean on her car in frustration.  Alone in a cute outfit with brokedown transportation at night wasn’t the best situation for her to be in so she pulls her phone out to call T’Challa and cancel first.

He picks up on the first ring.  “Hello, Ms. Issa.  Are you close?”

Issa picks at the hem of her shorts.  “No, I gotta give you a raincheck, I’m sorry.”

T’Challa sighs disappointed.  “Ahh, did you have other plans then?”

Issa double checks her surroundings.  “I wish I did right now, but no I’m not trying to skip out, my car just gave up on me.”

“Oh, do you need a ride?”  T’Challa asks with a little more perkiness.

Issa pauses.  “Uh, I guess, if you don’t mind?  I don’t want to put you out since you’re already there.”

“Oh no!  It is ok.  Please, just let me know where you are.”  T’Challa says.

She can hear his keys jingling as she tells him her address, going back in her car to wait.

T’Challa’s car pulls up behind hers.  He gets out leaning on her driver’s side.  “That’s a nasty flat.”

Issa sighs, “I needed new tires anyway.  I was waiting for a bonus at work, but why not now, right?”

T’Challa looks at her empathetically, stroking his chin.  “Life has a funny way of doing things like that.”

Issa nods, looking at the time on her phone, groaning with disappointment.  “The movie already started.  We won’t get another showing for another two hours.  I knew I should’ve let you go on home instead of getting me, now that we can’t make the show.”

T’Challa wears a long face.  “I was really looking forward to that show about….the dog?”

Issa chuckles, “Yeeaah, that meets the robot and they save Wall Street?”

T’Challa smiles, the apples of his cheeks invading his facial structure.  “Ahh, an Oscar worthy film, indeed.   Shame to miss…..well at least let me take you home then.”  T’Challa opens her car door as he guides her to his.

“Thank you again, I really appreciate it.”  The ride to her house was quiet.  Issa wasn’t sure what to say since the night was presumably over, but it could also not be over.  She was a grown woman, without a curfew or a parent at home, who could tell her what not to do.  But she certainly didn’t feel comfortable enough to have him burn his gas to turn around and go somewhere else now.  Issa sneaks a look over a T’Challa concentrated on the road.  His arm outstretched, toned and shapely with not so humble muscles.  His long, knuckly hands grip the wheel, subtly massaging the rim.  Issa checks her phone to pass the time, coming up with a game plan as he pulls up to her spot.

He drops his hands to his lap, looking over at Issa.  “Well here we are, Ms. Issa.  If you want to go get your car in the morning, let me know.  I don’t mind at all helping out.  Do you have a spare?”

Issa shakes her head, “No...responsibility isn’t my strongest characteristic.”

T’Challa smirks, “I don’t see you that way at all.  You have many talents as I have seen, and you are a great help to me and the team.”

Issa cheeses, “Well, if you say so, I’ll take it!”

T’Challa leans his head on the headrest.  “It’s true, you are a smart woman.   That’s how I know we can be a success.  It’s not lost on me the cultural differences between me and the community here, but with you as a liason, I can make sure no one is offended or lost in my accent.”

Issa chuckles, “It’s all good.  That lady and her kids were really just looking for a fight.  People aren’t always at their best when accepting help so expect some struggle, but I hear you, no problem at all to bridge that gap.  As for the accent, keep that.  It’s a great ice breaker.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah.  People perk up to it automatically to listen closer, so if you have meaningful shit to say, it’ll land quicker.  Plus it’s sexy as…..”  Issa’s voice fades as she catches herself saying too much.

T’Challa tucks his lips and nods, looking ahead as they sit for a while in silence.  Issa cursed herself for getting too forward but also, it had to be said; or at least she convinced herself of that.  How else could she try to lay claim to him without a little flirting?  Issa wasn’t ready to call it a night, so she worked up some inner hood nerve.

“So, you wanna come up or nah?!”  Issa asked with a little too much bass in her voice.

T’Challa looked at her half like she was crazy but slowly smiled.  “You would like some company?”

Issa clears her throat nodding, “I mean, sure.  I’m reclaiming my time!  Just cuz we can’t see a new movie doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.  If you want to, you got the green light….”  Issa’s voice trails off as she studies T’Challa’s reaction.

He takes his keys out of the ignition.  “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Issa and T’Challa make their way up to her place, going in she turns on the light.  “Sorry for the mess.  I stay unprepared for company.”

T’Challa stands surveying the surroundings.  “Oh, it’s alright.  I’m just content to be invited.”

Issa picks some clothes off of the couch and cups from the table.  “Please, sit.  Do you drink?”

T’Challa sits, picking up a pillow, studying its design.  “Occasionally; I wouldn’t mind a glass.  Who is this?”

Issa pulls out a bottle looking back at him staring at the pillow.  “Oh that’s Frank Ocean.  Have you heard him?”

T’Challa shakes his head.  “No, but you must think highly of him.”

Issa screws her face up as she pours some cheap moscato.  “I mean, he cool.  I just really liked the pillow.”

T’Challa reads her reaction.  “You don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s cute.”

Issa nods and whispers a cheer to herself at being called cute as she walks the glasses over to him.  “Yeah, I’m a big music head.  Nicki Minaj is around here somewhere but she may be on time out anyway.  Gettin all loud and outta pocket.”  

T’Challa laughs into his glass as he sips.  “I see.  Well, it’s nice to see someone laying down the law in their home.”

Issa gulps her drink as his vice dropped to a sexy octave.  “Mhm!  That’s me!  All business round here.”

T’Challa leans forward putting his drink down.  “Well we aren’t on the clock now, thank goodness.  This week was very crazy.”

“The craziest!  But that should be a sign that it’s on the way for the better now.”

T’Challa turns to Issa, looking at her a little too long.  “Wise words from an attractive woman.”

Issa was internally screaming at this blunt response, but laughs it off to keep the mood light.  “Well the lighting in here is deceptive sometime, and I had a pimple this morning, so...”  

“No joke, don’t sell yourself short.”  T’Challa says as he leans towards Issa, who was not ready, but became completely ready to try him on.  They embrace slowly.  His lips plush against hers, his hands remain at a gentlemanly section of her leg as her heart beats out of her chest.  The associate outing just got a little personal.

Part 5

RagTag

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Other Works

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N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

If I Could Do It All Again

#SundaySweat

Signs of Rain

World’s Best Baba

[peachesandlesbians]

Dating Them Would Include (Harry Potter)

HARRY POTTER:

-Him being super protective. Harry always worries about you, even when there's no danger. Before you met him, you were relatively safe. But then you started to date him—the news exploded—and you were propelled into something, much, much bigger than you. Death Eaters put a noose around your neck that tightened each year you grew older. And one day, it closed so much that the Death Eaters decided to go after you themselves, in an effort to hurt Harry. Luckily, you were saved and Harry is slight paranoid it'll happen again and this time, he can't save you.

-Cheering him up and always supporting him—even when no one else does. They both go hand in hand, actually. When Harry was chosen for the Triwizard Tournament, everyone shunned him, including his own best friend, Ron. But you stuck by his side, through thick and thin. Always have and always will.

-Being the only one he can confide in—always. Sometimes Harry felt embarrassed when he talked about his feelings, but he never felt that way with you. He trusted you with his inner self and secrets. You guys talk about everything: the war, death, and his parents.

-Him trying to get you to break up with him because he thinks it's dangerous. Refer to the first headcanon. Harry did not want that to happen ever again. So, he tried to convince you, but to no avail. He eventually gave up, though secretly appreciating your stubbornness.

    -"I'm dangerous, Y/N!" "Too bad, Harry; I love you!" " . . . Fine."

-Lots of affection when you guys are alone to reassure each other you're not going anywhere. Tight hugs, kisses, cuddling, and hand-holding are all apart of that. When someone sees the both you, they instantly go "aww" making the both of you blush.

-Him being guilty when he snaps at you when the pressure gets too much. Harry always apologizes profusely, of course, but he still hates how sad he made you feel for a moment. You understand he needs a healthy outlet that doesn't involve hurting people, but you still won't let yourself be a punching bag.

-Talking about life after the war and your future together. You wonder if you'll stay together; Harry insists you will. Sometimes, you dream of a life where everyone is safe and happy and where you marry Harry. Maybe a couple of kids, too.

RON WEASLEY:

-Him being annoyed because he doesn't have enough money to buy nice gifts. You always tell Ron it's fine and gifts don't dictate the love you have for each other. He wants to shower you with everything you deserve but he can't. Ron also worries that you'll leave him for someone who can give you things you deserve, but you reassure him you would never.

-His family adoring you. Molly and Arthur see you as a respectable young man/woman/person, a perfect match for Ron. Molly makes sure to knit you a maroon sweater for Christmas. Ginny loves you and she thinks of you as a close sister/brother/sibling. Fred and George making sure to prank whoever hurt you (including Ron). Ron's just glad his family loves you.

-Helping him with homework all the time. You actually tutor Ron through everything, going as slow as he needs to. As a result, his grades have improved.

    -"Y/N, why the bloody hell do I have to do this again?"

-Lots of affection and PDA. That includes kissing, hugs, hand-holding, the whole nine yards. Half of it is to show you Ron loves you, the other half is to make people see you're taken.

-Him getting jealous 24/7. Ron trusts you; it's just other people he doesn't trust. With someone as wonderful as you, why wouldn't he be jealous? You were something special, after all. You find it amusing with people you don't know but annoying with your friends.

-Cheering him up after a Quidditch match had gone wrong. He's always grumpy, so you get some food and you let him rant for as long as you need him.

    "-Bloody hell, I swear Malfoy cheated!"

-Talking about the future and your lives after the war. Like Harry, you wish for a quiet, safe, peaceful life with your family. Mostly, you want everyone to survive the war and not get hurt.

FRED WEASLEY:

-His family adoring you, like Ron. Molly always fusses over you when you visit the Burrow (which Fred finds hilarious) and of course, she knits you your own Weasley sweater. Ginny looks up to you and admires you. George teases you constantly, not that you mind. Every time you come to the Burrow, a hot meal is waiting for you, without fail.

-Pranking people together. You had developed a love for pranking, especially on Slytherins. You, Fred, and George team up sometimes. You distract the professor so Fred and George can pull a prank. It works most of the time.

-Laughs. Lots of laughs, all the time. Fred makes sure to use his best jokes, pick-up lines, and sometimes pranks on you. It's a fun and healthy relationship.

-Him showing off when you attend his Quidditch practices and games. Fred makes sure to spin and do fancy tricks, while hitting other people, of course. He always gets distracted, which makes Oliver annoyed.

-Him giving you a discount at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred insists that you pick anything you want, no matter how much it costs. Sometimes, he lets you help out around the shop. This always makes Ron jealous.

    -"Babe, pick what you want."

-Him being jealous even though he has nothing to worry about. Seriously, who would leave Fred for someone else? He sometimes gets into fights when someone else tries to flirt with you, which makes you scold him

-During Bill and Fleur's wedding, everyone shipping the two of you when they see you dance together. Molly's already making plans for your wedding and George makes lots of jokes and asks you when's the wedding. It cheers everyone up to see you and Fred, the happy couple.

DRACO MALFOY:

-Him being extremely protective and jealous. They both go hand-in-hand, really. If anyone flirts with you, Draco will not hesitate to glare and tell them to back off unless they want the wrath of the Malfoys. Needless to say, no one tried to flirt with you after that. Draco would do anything to ensure your safety and always protect you.

-Always being able to tell each other everything. When Draco was a Death Eater, he rambled about his feelings and how he hated it. He just wanted his family to be okay. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but he would if it saved him and his family.

-Supporting him all the time. When Draco became a Death Eater, you were shocked initially. But you still stood by his side, even when you hated when he came back after a meeting, a dark, panicked look in his eyes. Draco sometimes needed to cry, which you let him do, without judgment. Of course, he never discussed his "weakness" with you, but it still warmed his heart to know he could talk to you.

    -"I-I can't—Y/N, please—" "Shh, it's okay, Draco. You're safe with me."

-Late night cuddles, passionate kisses, lots of snogging, hand-holding, and hold-stroking are the affection he showers on you. At first, Draco was stiff and reserved but as your relationship progressed, he grew comfortable with affection and showed you his gentle side. You also made him laugh, something unheard of.

-Being Snape's favorite student besides Draco. It's partly because you're skilled at Potions and partly because you're dating Draco. Whatever it is, you're glad Snape goes easier on you.

-Him being a gentleman. Draco compliments you a lot, which makes you a bit embarrassed. He also buys you gifts, as many as you want and sometimes even if you don't want them. He claims it's to show you that you're better than everyone else.

-Weekly dinners at Malfoy Manor. You were nervous at first, but when you saw his parents approved of your relationship, you relaxed. Narcissa said you reminded them of each other, which Lucius agreed with.

    -"You know, Y/N, you both remind me of Lucius and myself."

CEDRIC DIGGORY:

-Lots of dates. Cedric put thought, care, and love into every date he planned. You loved each and every one of them. Dates were a weekly thing between the two of you, as a way to relax and spend more time together.

-Lots of affection and "I love you"'s. Cedric loved to hug and kiss you and he always took the chance to show you love somehow.

-Him being such a gentleman. You know those people that hold the door, pull chairs out, and always pay for dates? Yeah, that's Cedric in a nutshell. He would always be polite, charming, and caring. He would spoil you, by buying you gifts, all the time.

   - "Hey, Princess/Prince, I got you something!"

-Him getting teased by his friends. They're thrilled to see Cedric happy. They always worried he wouldn't find the right one, but when they met you, they agreed you were perfect. Of course, they love to tease Cedric about your relationship.

-Visiting his parents on holidays. When they first met you, they loved you—espically his father, Amos. He thought you were perfect for Cedric, a smart, talented, kind girl/boy/person. Cedric was ecstatic that his parents approved of you.

-Being everyone's OTP, including Professor Sprout and the whole Hufflepuff house. They love how cute you are and they can clearly see the love between the both of you. As you can see, they ship you. So hard. No one even tries to flirt with you, in fear of breaking up the perfect pairing.

-Being devasted by his death in the Triwizard Tonourment. You couldn't believe Cedric was taken away from you so quickly. You envisioned a long, happy future together and that was never going to happen. That was one of the worst days of your life.

HERMIONE GRANGER:

-Study dates. These are arguably the best kinds of dates. Hermione asks you a question. If you get it right, you get a kiss. If it's wrong, no kiss. You get to spend time with her while learning, so it's a win-win.

-Cuddling on the couch in the Common Room. It's one of your favourite ways to relax. Sometimes, Hermione confides in you while you hum and listen. Other days, you sit in peaceful silence.

-Harry and Ron loving you. They're happy that Hermione found someone to love, someone who is loyal, kind, and loves her to death. You're always up for some relaxing time with them.

-Showing each other your favorite books. This is a special way of showing your love for each other. You love to discover new books with Hermione.

-Holding hands, tight hugs, and lots of kisses. Hermione loves affection when you're in private. It always relaxes and calms her down.

-Standing up for each other. When someone calls Hermione a "Mudblood", you punch them and make sure they don't say it again. When someone insults you, she casts a nasty hex on them.

-Telling her to relax when she freaks out about the O.W.L's. Hermione has nothing to fear; you expect she'll get all O's. But sometimes she forgets to eat, so you bring her meals and tell her it's time to take a break. She always thanks you for that.

    -"Calm down, Hermione, you'll do fine."

SEVERUS SNAPE:

-Lots of tight hugs and passionate kisses. At first, Severus was shy to ask for affection (even though he craved it), but now, he knows it's okay to kiss you.

-Dumbledore knowing about your relationship, which he approves of. Secretly, he ships you two and "accidentally" tells McGonagall. She ships you two, as well.

-Him telling you about his past and opening up to you. You're glad Severus trusts you so much. You learn about what made him who he his.

-Him smiling sometimes. Severus actually looks kinder and happier. You grin every time he smiles as it's a sign that you make him happy. And that's all you want for Severus.

    -"Oh, wipe that smile off your face, Y/N."

-Him being slightly awkward at the beginning of your relationship. Relationships and love are new things to Severus so he's shy at times. But as time passes, he grows confident and can easily kiss you, only when you're in private, away from private eyes.

-Sometimes giving him silent treatments when he says something cruel. Severus demands you talk to him again and when that doesn't work, he apologizes and kisses you.

-Knowing he's a double agent. You trust Severus to do the right thing to protect the people around him, which makes him astonished about how much you trust him. You hate the danger Severus puts himself in and want him to be safe.

[sudesh2907-blog]

The Farmer

Thomas was a spritely young lad with enough strength and energy to quickly outmatch his father in life.

Due to his stable nature Tom was very settled. He met Molly, a beautiful local woman and agreed to take over the family farm so his folks could go on a long pilgrimage like they had always dreamed. He quickly proposed and married his sweetheart.

Tom kept the crops well for years without a hitch. Just as he was really beginning to think life was just one big cake walk the darkness came.

Molly who had just recently had her first child saw it first. She wanted to move, she felt they belonged elsewhere. Thomas had none of it and refused to leave his home.

She begged to find a new place to raise their child.

“I was born here and I’ve had such a fantastic life. This is a good place for our little Sam, we don’t know where we’ll end up or if we’ll ever make it somewhere as safe and as comfortable as here. This is what’s best for us Molly”

So they stayed.

One day Thomas was out in the fields that he noticed a problem. He was making his way inside when he noticed a lump of fluffy white mould on the ground. When he knelt to inspect it and realised it was one of his crops he felt an uneasy feeling creep into his gut.

Quickly word started up around the town that the disease that was affecting all the local crops was affecting as far north as Dublin and Galway, probably further.

It wasn’t long that the desperate feeling began to take hold, the feeling that you are in the centre of a very large ocean in a very small boat.

People began to leave, hoping to find somewhere better in their travels. Nothing green seemed to grow anymore, the land was all but baron.

Word travelled that it was better to head for the cities and coastlines looking for help. As the ability to stay in this ever grim town with any chance of survival diminished Tom went to Molly with a terribly heavy heart.

“Molly” He said softly “I can see now that you were right, we should have left. I’m so sorry my love, I’m responsible for this”

Molly gave her be sorrowed husband a warm hug. When she pulled away there were tears in her eyes “I haven’t told you everything” She fought to remain composed and clear “I saw our deaths long ago and I knew that there was nothing I could have done to change it. I’m so sorry my love. I know I shouldn’t have kept this side of myself from you. I can offer one small comfort…” She added slowly as she tried to gauge her husbands reaction “…I can promise you that even though this situation seems to be the end, we will make it through okay”

There was silence as she finished her sentence. Thomas was frozen solid as he stared at this woman who he had lived with for so long. ‘What in gods name is going on?’ He thought ‘She saw our deaths…?’

All of the pent of trauma inflicted upon Thomas by the iron fist of his parents religion surfaced with a vengeance and he was bombarded by searing twisting images of dark demons and witches wielding power mortals could only dream of.

“Speak to me Tom, please” Molly whispered.

Tom took a rigid step back his eyes suddenly shrouded in suspicion and fear he did his best to hide. He turned and left the room.

For days all Tom could do was shake with anger. He had blamed himself for the passing of their starving son but now he was confronted with this darkness. A punishment surely, since he had dared to think life had nothing that he couldn’t handle. He was so angry, so scared but still he could not bring himself to leave the place he once loved and called home. If he did he would have nothing left.

There was little to no communication between him and his wife after that. Tom couldn’t even bare to look her in the eyes anymore.

With each passing day he would look out upon his once lush and life giving land, and with each baron day his small heart would shrink a little more.

The days were becoming so painfully long and sluggish mixed in with the biting cold whose teethmarks would leave one numb and shaking.

Tom slowly opened his eyes one grey afternoon and immediately he knew this was the day, he could feel the difference in the air. Death was fast approaching.

It was like breathing in a large echoing underwater cavern despite him lying in his bedroom. He moved his head to the side to see the woman he once believed was his sweet Molly.

She lay on the couch on the other side of the room almost completely lifeless except for her clutching onto what was once her sons favourite blanket.

With painfully slow movements and a tremendous effort Tom lifted himself to sitting. He slowly got onto his feet and shuffled over to the filthy window squinting to see out. Reaching up to turn the latch Tom opened the window, letting a blast of freezing air to swirl into the room. The air didn’t bother him as he leaned on the window cill and took a deep breath. He took a quiet moment to prepare to climb out and end this sad life once and for all. He ran his eyes over the landscape offering a final goodbye to his long lasting love.

As he looked his eyes picked out a tiny almost neon green dot on the floor. Frowning he leaned forward trying to get a better view to see what it was. His body seemed almost to gasp of its own volition as he realised what it was, a little budding plant shoot poking out of the dirt.

It was so vibrantly green it was almost painful. He peered closer wondering why? Or how?

Just then he noticed a crack of sunlight split through the impenetrable grey sky and land directly upon the plant bud, as if some higher force was smiling and urging the little life to survive.

Thomas felt his heart beating for the first time in ages, he hadn’t seen sunlight in so long and it was soo beautiful.

He suddenly had the overwhelming desire to go to the plant bud. Of course in his condition that seemed like a daunting task. Also there was a feeling coming over him that there wasn’t much time, death was so close now he could feel its spacious coldness in his lungs.

In a hurry he pushed his old form from the window ledge and he turned.

As he did the demon shaped like Molly opened her eyes and for the first time since she had revealed her dark secret they looked at each other. Tom immediately felt cold again like what little energy he had she had drained it. The beauty of the flower remained like a tiny voice urging him onward. He glared at the demon with determination to show her that he would not stop until he was actually dead. At least that’s what he had intended to convey with his look, however for some reason he just found himself frowning. He looked into those eyes but was somewhat surprised when there were no floods of black magic or terror coming to meet him.

Suddenly an inner turmoil rose in him ‘What if he’d been wrong. Or perhaps this was just another one of her sadistic tricks’.

Tom let out a long breath he’d been holding tense and made up his mind. Wether is was dark magic covering her true nature or not he knew he could not meet death without having tried to save this soul.

“Molly…” His old voice croaked, breaking the age old silence “…there’s a small green bud in a ray of sunshine outside. Come and see it, it may be the last beautiful thing we will ever have the privilege to witness”

“I can’t move” She whispered back as her eyes flashed many different emotions at once, he own stiff hatred and anger mixed with sadness and pain all giving way to a guarded curiosity.

Tom grunted with effort as he made his way across the room to her “I can help” He offered out a hand.

She just lay there, staring at him for several agonising minutes. Tom could feel his time on earth like a backpack full of sand slipping quickly out of a slit near the bottom. He wanted to leave her if she was going to be indecisive but once again he knew he needed to do his best to help if these really were his final moments, he would never again get the chance.

“Alight then” The small voice sounded as she nodded and ever so slowly began to shift and crack into movement. As fast as he could Tom reached down and grasped her hands. She had to drop her sons blanket. Toms mind had been jumbled and messy recently, a mind atrophying that had a hard time thinking straight. However right now in this moment, he felt like a live electric wire with full charge and completely clear. He pulled Molly to her feet extracting many grunts and gasps of wheezing air form both of them. With teeth gritting slowness they headed for the door.

Tom noticed curiously that the colours in his vision seemed to pulse with a long forgotten brightness and sharpness.

The hallway outside the room was long and dark and the stairway and the end steep and treacherous. They edged their way through the hallway using every available bit of wall and/or handrail to steady themselves on one side, while leaning on each other to steady themselves on the other side. They made it to the stairs and had to simply inch down one careful step at a time. Tom could feel his bag of sand getting empty with each thud and step they took. They eventually made it safely to the bottom, both breathing ragged and weak. Tom reached up and opened the front door. He staggered back as the door swung open nearly knocking him off his feet. Molly recoiled as the wind from outside rushed in, mercilessly snatching whatever warmth it could find. Making a huge effort Tom grabbed her sleeve just about saving her from collapsing.

With nothing to support them as they left through the front door Tom cursed as he felt the weight of gravity clawing at his shoulders trying to take him down, not to mention holding up Molly’s feeble form. The promise of getting close to something so green and bright and alive however did seem to offer him some strength. He shouldered the weight and took one step after another as he guided the two of them through the moaning elements. The bitter cold wind snatched at his eyes making them water as he tried to keep peering forward looking for the patch green. He cursed his weak body as his knees began to knock together only barely keeping him going. But he refused to stop.

It felt like walking over a glacier as they trudged over the cracked frozen dirt. The wind howled in his ears carrying bizarre sounds he couldn’t recognise. Molly kept looking left and right with a kind of weary curiosity about her.

Tom felt his numb fingers slip and suddenly the change in weight sent him sprawling on the floor. He gasped as incredibly sharp and real waves of pain rippled up and down his body.

He cursed in despair.

His little old voice barely carried beyond his mouth. It seemed that it was over, he was unable to operate his body and the pain was like standing under a -30 degree waterfall.

Tom was about to give up everything and die right there, when he lifted his gaze to see the little green bud only inches in front of him. The little spot of sunlight was still shining, its warmth felt like a warm blanket. Despite his awful state and the constant buzz of pain in his probably broken shoulder he smiled.

Suddenly he saw Molly come into view. She knelt down beside him looking as vibrant and healthy as the day they first met. Beside her little Samuel was standing looking at the scene with a wide cheeky grin etched onto his face young healthy face. The flower was like it’s own light source and its light seemed to pierce straight through Toms cluttered mind. His eyes brightened as he felt weights dropping off him, like he had been holding a mountain together simply because he had thought he was supposed to, but now he could let it all go. He finally felt a lightness wash through the pain and bring his weary mind to a calm comfortable stillness.

“Well done my love” Molly rested a hand on his shoulder “You know you gave us all a real scare there” She laughed lightly her perfectly delicate voice like the sound of raindrops.

“I…” Tom spasmed as he tried to move his body “…I don’t understand”

“Oh Thomas you can come out of there now” She offered “It looks painful”

He tried again to move his body, his expression twisting in confusion as it completely refused to listen.

Molly shook her head in amusement “Here” She said in a hushed voice then she leaned down and gave him a soft kiss.

The warmth of her lips felt like electric water flooding through his body. He gasped again but this time his muscles responded appropriately and he arched his back in a big stretch. This seemed to be just enough yet too much for his old body and immediately he felt like someone who’d been incased in a suit of iron and all the clasps had just been undone.

He stood up feeling not just at ease, but stronger and more alive than he ever had. He looked at the form of his wife and understanding swept through him, not unlike the wind that had only recently been a formidable foe. He still had no idea what was going on but he could feel its correctness. He looked down and was mildly surprised to see his old body still lying there. It looked like a crumpled broken mess, except for the big smile spread across his face. Molly’s body was just behind him also with a slight upturn at the corner of her lips.

“We are dead?!” He half asked half announced

Molly smiled at him coyly and winked. Tom looked into his sons face and felt himself beam at the little being who grinned radiating love back. Samuel suddenly clapped happily and squeaked with excitement as a big bright light spilled over the land. Thomas squinted up to see the source, all he could make out was the entire sky becoming brighter and brighter as if they were being approached by a sun. He was about to ask what this was when memories funnelled through his mind.

He remembered looking out over large Shepard herds for many lifetimes, he could remember living on landscapes of all kinds. From frozen cold to dry hot flatlands and different mountain regions constantly observing the beautiful horizons of this lively little earth. He remembered making his way across glaciers and deserts always patient, and always with this deep feeling of belonging to the land and the land belonging to him. The land was his first and last love. The energy he connected to, through it, came rushing to the surface of this dismal rotting area he had recently been inhabiting. Tom looked up and watched a shining spherical shape, barley visible through the intense wall of light getting ever brighter and closer. Though the intensity of the atmosphere was incredibly charged Tom calmly took his wife’s hand in his right and his Sons in his left.

The intensity reached a peak where suddenly there was nothing but that pure brilliant white glittering all around them. It was incredible, like standing at the centre of an exploding sun without the slightest bother. Then like a balloon that reaches the end of its elasticity, it all erupted outward. The pure white popped away to reveal a huge variety of incredible colours coating this once grey land.

Everything from the tiniest piece of dirt to the wind itself shone with a hard to place but very much there, breathing, shining beauty. Thomas’s entire being seemed to have entered a dimension of pure orgasm and he shuddered with energy.

He looked around at the now vividly colourful land and pursed his lips. With an excited burst of energy he let out a long achingly lovely soft sound. The whistle echoed through the atmosphere, sounding like whales do as they call and sing to each other.

From every inch of space around them they got a response. A beautiful melodious voice rang out.

“To all of the family that can hear me. We have come for you. We have been on a very long arduous journey but we now know my true name. I am here to help you find yours”.

[shooting-the-walls]

The Empty Hearse: my inner monologue because I like writing these

I would just like to point out before we get going that I was rather a latecomer to this fandom. I got into it just as Season 4 was released, so early 2017. When this episode was released in 2014 I was only 10 years old!!! Still probably my favourite fandom though, the one I always find myself returning to.

Anyways, on with my crazy monologue!!

• We stan a quick rundown of the Depression of the Century

• #creepymaskmuch

• Molly be like "oh damn"

• Uno reverse bitches!!!

• Molly be like "YAAAAS"

• I'm sorry can we just acknowledge how hot the window jump is

• Bet John wished he could be Molly in that sitch XD

• DERREN BROWN MOTHERFUCKERS

• Still feel so sorry for John :(

• "BOLLOCKS"

• Greg is so fucking done with Anderson's theories XD

• "You're a guilty lil bitch Anderson, stfu": Lestrade 2k14

• "I BelIEVe iN sHErloCK HOLmeS"

• Eyyyyyyy Sherlock is not guilty!!!! (Obvs)

• When depression hits, get a (terrible) moustache bitches

• WE DON'T TRUST YOU MARY, DON'T ACT ALL NICEY NICE

• Ooooo helicopters and running, Mission Impossible style

• When you just..... give the fuck up

• When you can't stand that screaming so you just turn your music up

• I mean torture is pretty harsh man

• Of course Sherlock would deduce his way out XD

• When Mycroft just doesn't give a Single Shit

• WE STAN THE THEME TUNNNEEEEE

• John be like "nah imma just stare at this wall"

• Mycroft's got a fancy fucking office guys

• John stop tryna be Sherlock with your terrible imitation coat and scarf

• Mrs Hudson always cares for her adoptive sons, but she does with high sarcasm and sass

• Mycroft, why does your office look like a torture chamber??

• Benedict is HOT Jesus

• "Definitely. Enjoying it.": You! Don't! Appreciate! Your! Brother!

• 2 HOURS TO LEARN A BLOODY LANGUAGE!?!?! JESUS FUCK I DID 7 YEARS OF FRENCH AND I CAN BARELY HOLD A CONVERSATION

• Anthea prefers Sherlock to Mycroft, they have bitch sessions about him pass it on lol

• Mrs Hudson is so sassy and honest XD

• John you fucking liar you're not sorry

• Mycroft is so Done with his little brother XD

• Sherlock, stop personifying London dude

• "Yes, we meet up every Friday for fish and chips": Mycroft, the sarcasm is not needed

• MYCROFT TELL YOUR BROTHER WHAT HE FUCKING DID TO JOHN

• Mrs Hudson is such a fucking Queen

• "What's his name?"

• "Sherlock was not my boyfriend": YES HE FUCKING WAS SHUT UP

• "I AM NOT GAY": wow, denial is high there John

• Mrs Hudson ships Johnlock more than the rest of the fandom combined XD

• Mycroft: "oh yeah but the other wine is like so much better. Anyways, your bff hates you now byeeeee"

• I LOVE THE MUSIC IN THE RESTAURANT SCENE GEEEEZ

• Sherlock is such a fucking little twat when he wants to be lol

• "Would I suggest you look at this menus, it's... completely identical"

• THE ACCENT. THE FUCKING ACCENT. I'M WHEEZING

• The way he's just tryna be like "look at meeeeeeee" and John gives not a single fuck

• "Surprise me" "certainly endeavouring to, sir"

• Awwwwwww hey Mary

• John is such an awkward lil hedgehog

• Mary: I agree I'm the best thing that could have happened to you

John: bitch you're not Sherlock

• SHERLOCK FUCK OFF

• Oh damn. OH DAMN.

• John just having a mini mental breakdown here

• "Short version. Not dead."

• John looks like he's about to kill someone (preferably Sherlock)

• "Oh God" "Not quite"

• SHERLOCK STOP MAKING BAD JOKES ABOUT THE MOUSTACHE SITCH

• The look in Sherlock's eyes when he realises that John isn't happy to see him

• #deflectiontechniques

• HE LOOKS IN SO MUCH PAIN ON THE FLOOR BABBBBYYYYYY

• In the cafe, Sherlock just looks like a kid that's like 2 hours late home

• "You know for a genius you can be remarkably thick"

• "That's a little more difficult to explain" "I've got all night bitch"

• "Just your brother, Molly and a hundred tramps"

• I love that they end up in a chip shop XD

• John, your moustache is terrible. Accept it lol

• "One word to let me know that you were alive"

• Mary just laughing her head off in the corner XD

• Sherlock: BITCH STFU IT'S A SECRET (whilst entire chip shop is listening in)

• *headbutt*

• "I said sorry, isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

• Mary knows what's up BUT SHE A LIAR

• SHERLOCK LOOKS LIKE HE'S ABOUT TO CRY WHAT A SWEETIE

• Honestly don't know why Mollie looks so shocked, like she knew he was alive

• Greg is just like a proud Papa

• "Oo you bastard!"

• Sherlock being vaguely confused/irritated by a hug XD

• BBC, can we talk about the random shot of the back of Una Stubbs' throat?

• THEY EVEN GOT ONE IN FOR THE SHERIARTY SHIPPERS, HAVE THEY JUST COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT JOHNLOCK :(:(:(

• Anderson just doesn't ship Sheriarty XD

• Think the Chip Shop Argument got spilled lol

• Mary is having the time of her life reading the blog XD

• Mary really ships the boys right from the start lol

• "I don't shave for Sherlock Holmes" "You should put that on a t-shirt"

• "SHERLOCK HOLMES GET DOWN FROM THAT SOFA OR SO HELP ME GOD--": Mrs Holmes 1983-present

• The terror alert is on critical and these bitches are just playing chess

• Ngl, missed the burgundy dressing gown

• "Oh bugger!"

• WE STAN THE BROTHERS PLAYING OPERATION

• SHERLOCK'S IMITATION THO

• Mycroft be so defensive

• "Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on until we met other children" "Oh yes, that was a mistake" "ghastly. What were they thinking of?" "Probably something about making friends": I feel SO sorry for the Holmes parents XD

• Mycroft, I think your brother is trying to set you up with a lil someone (

• "Change the subject. Now"

• Mrs Hudson: :)

• "He's pleased to see you underneath all that--" "Which of us??" "Both of you"

• PLAY DEDUCTIONS WITH YOUR BROTHER MYC

• Sherlock straight in there with the gender equality

• Sherlock: Icelandic sheep wool bitch

Mrs Hudson: ah yes, because the world need a blog on that -_-

• THE CURLS ARE AT A PEAK GUYS

• "I'm not lonely": yes you are stfu

• I love the wink to Mrs Hudson :)

• Mrs Hudson really wants her boys back lol

• Loving the use of transitions to show how much of a dick John is being to Sherlock lol

• "Have dinner?" "Solve crimes?"

• Molly knows she's replacing John really

• "Weight loss, hair dye, botox, affair, lawyer. Next!"

• Sherlock is so gentle with the poor woman :)

• I LOVE THE OLD GUY SO MUCH LOL

• John is so fucking convinced he's right, but it's kinda sad that he doesn't think Sherlock will respect his personal space (because he never has before): JOHN SUBCONSCIOUSLY WANTS SHERLOCK THERE

• Can we just agree that Sherlock is such a sweetie and that it is heartbreaking that John is now his awful internal monologue because he's convinced he hates him after how he reacted once he returned?

• Lestrade just being a concerned dad in the background

• Molly and Lestrade are both just so spooked out

• *dramatically blows dust off book*

• HE WANTS JOHN BACK SO BAD awwwwwwwwwwwwww

• Quick aside, but I have a friend who is a train fanatic (he's coming to prom on a steam thingy) and the train dude reminds me of him lol

• WE LOVE A LIL BIT OF MIND PALACE WORK

• "Excuse you": JOHN YOU SASSY QUEEN

• John: Makin' my way downtown, walkin' fast, getting kidnapped and I fall down

• "Did you get him off a murder charge" "Nope helped him put up some shelves"

• "Do you fancy chips?": HANG ON A MOMENT. In S4E2 Sherlock states that "You're suicidal you're allowed chips. Trust me I should know". Does that mean..... oh Jesus, Sherlock, you little sweetie, you need to talk to someone

• ON PRINCIPLE I HATE SHERLOLLY BUT IT'S ALSO SO SWEEEEEEEEEEET

• *when you wake up after a night out and you don't know where the fuck you are*

• Sherlock is just immediately alert like: wtf is wrong with my John

• The chips just... don't matter, okay

• When you steal a motorbike to help your bff

• I'M SORRY BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE LIKE A 16 YEAR OLD SHERLOCK ROARING AROUND SUSSEX ON HIS LITTLE MOPED AND HIS MOTHER YELLING AT HIM FROM DOWN THE ROAD TELLING HIM SHE'S GOING TO KILL HIM IF HE DOESN'T GET HOME RIGHT NOW XD

• Ngl having the little kid right at the front is real creepy

• But like can you imagine Sherlock and John going to bonfire nights with Rosie when she's a bit older and both of them being dead tense as they watch the bonfire being lit?

• LISTEN TO YOUR DAUGHTER BITCH

• The fact Sherlock figures it out JUST as the bonfire lights up: PERFECT

• Sherlock, with a complete disregard for his own safety: *jumps into a fire and drags John out before tearfully begging him to be okay*

Hetero shippers: ah yes, what a good male friendship

• I LOVE THE HOLMES PARENTS SO MUCH

• I love Sherlock's face lol: he is SO done

• Sherlock totally resembles his mother in terms of personality

• I think the fact this is Benedict's parents makes that scene a million times better: do you think that's how he wants to act during the small talk sometimes XD

• Mr Holmes just looks so Done, and Mrs Holmes is just like "fuck it I'm used to this"

• "She worries!": well of course she bloody does, one son is the British Government, the other is a recovering drug addict who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high and her daughter is locked up in a secret facility

• "Promise?" "...promise": HE LOVES HIS MUM AND DAD REALLY

• Tbf John, you couldn't expect the poor guy to lead his parents on like that, really

• John stop making bad puns

• "Is it to get to you through me?": JOHN KNOWS WHAT'S UP

• Awwwwww he's got his John back and he's just so happy

• Aw c'mon, you've gotta admit that a bit of Sherlock's massive concern is for his brother being in parliament that night

• I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T HELP THINKING OF THE PARENTLOCK EDIT OF THE FACETIME BIT

• "Illegal!" "A bit": yeah, like this is anything new tho John XD

• "I don't understand" "well that's a first": JOHN LIVES ARE AT STAKE STOP BEING A SASSY BITCH

• *sudden flashback to the great game and the painting*

• I actually love the scene in the train carriage so much, because even though it ends up with Sherlock being a little bastard to get John to admit his feelings, I like how it demonstrates that everyone expects Sherlock to know everything all the time, and that's a very unrealistic expectation: despite the fact he hates it, he is only human, and I think this scene nicely acknowledges that

• Two bros, chilling in a tube train, trying not to freak out cos they might die!

• Sherlock: ooooopppsss, John, might have just set off this fucking bomb :/

• "Mind palace!"

• "You think I've just got how to diffuse a bomb tucked away in there!?" "YES!" "...maybe"

• Sherlock may be a little bitch but you have to admit he's a bloody good actor

• John, the whole way through the tube scene: wtf wtf wtf wtf

• "I wanted you not to be dead!" "Well, be careful what you wish for": Sherlock, sweetie, it almost sounds like you wish you were dead.....

• AWWW HE FORGIVES HIM GUYS

• I wanna know what that information Mycroft gave Moriarty was

• "His death wish": yeah, let's be honest Moriarty was just like "I crave heckety heck death"

• How difficult do you thunk Sherlock found it up on that roof, having to tell John all of that??

• You've gotta admit that it was a pretty good plan

• You can bet that all the conspiracy theories were on Anderson's wall XD

• THE GIGGLING JESUS

• "You COCK"

• "You said such nice things, I never knew you cared :)"

• "I will kill you if you EVER-" "scouts honour" "BREATHE A WORD OF THIS ANYONE"

• "Terrorists can get into a lot of trouble if they don't have an off switch"

• "Oh please, killing me. That was so 2 years ago": WE STAN

• Mycroft is just so desperate to get out of Les Mis: "but the pain. The HORROR"

• Lestrade just seems a little disappointed

• John tryna act surprised at Tom XD

• SHERLOCK'S FACE (the memeeeessss lol)

• WE STAN OUR TWO FAVE BOYS TALKING ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS

• Sherlock is just so determined

• Sherlock: oh yeah heard your graveside speech btw, super sweet

• YES THE HAT BITCHES: OUR FAVOURITE DETECTIVE IS BACK

• OOOO CREEPY MAGNUSSEN NUGGET AT THE END THERE