#Mollie Gloss

[commedessgarcons]

JT and Kali Uchis Ph. by Marina Vengut

Kali’s Makeup: Raisa Flowers Assisted by Eunice Kristen Nails: Elizabeth Garcia Styling: Timothy Luke Garcia

JT’s Makeup: Mollie Gloss, Hair: Tevin Washington

[guarionexjr]

Jean Deaux Press Shots

Make Up by Mollie Gloss

Photography by Guarionex Rodriguez Jr

[mygrowingcollection]

Molly Gloss

[le-clair-de-lune]

For my lovely anon from this request: "jealous!reader if james was to be flirted with? and like how james would react to it."

Hope you enjoy it!!

"Who does she think she is?" you asked to no one in particular, you eyes trained on the hand of some bimbo who obviously doesn't understand personal space.

You had been looking for your boyfriend, wondering what had been taking so long, only to find him... preoccupied.

Sirius is the first to notice the look you're sending across the room "Uh oh" he lets out causing the others to turn to you "Someone's jealous"

Your brows furrowed together as you tore your eyes away to look at him. "Who me?" you say baffled "Why would I be jealous? I am perfectly fine" you scoffed

"Your drink would say otherwise" Marlene smirks eyeing the crumpled cup in your hand.

Your eyes widen dropping the cup on the table next to you. "Shut up" you mumble.

Lily rolls her eyes "No need to be jealous, sweetheart. Everyone knows he's yours, practically walks around with 'property of y/n' stamped on him"

"Listen here, Red" you start "I'm not jealous, got it?" you say pouring yourself another drink

Jealous pfft why would you be jealous? You are in a perfectly secure relationship with the most loyal man in the world, how could you be jealous?

The others brows raise in response, "Surrre you're not" Remus says taking a puff of his cigarette.

"I'm not! Who would I be jealous of huh? Blondie over there? The one who's been eyeing James from across the room the whole time? The one who had his quidditch number on her cheek during the game? The daft, dense, mindless little tart who is currently trying to make a move on my boyfriend" you let out with a sarcastic smile "Puhlease, I am totally unbothered"

"Riiight" Sirius is the first to speak the rest looking at you amused. "Well then good thing you're unbothered because looks like she's getting comfortable over there"

In an instant you're out of your seat, heading over there. Leaving behind a smirking group of friends.

"Anyone got popcorn?" Peter asks leaning back in his seat, ready to watch the event unfold.

---

James had just wanted a drink, now he was stuck with some random Hufflepuff girl whose name he couldn't be bothered to remember. Molly? Polly? who cares?? She was becoming way to touchy for him to care.

"Uh yeah" James nodded agreeing to whatever she had been saying whilst trying to shift away.

James' sense of discomfort eases when he sees you making his way over to him. His lips parting as he takes you in. You looked really fucking hot. You were wearing his extra jersey which, with the help of magic, you had made bigger and cinched in all the right places to create a dress. A dress that left James drooling the moment he saw you this morning, not only did it accentuate your curves but it brandished his name. Everyone knew you were his girl and Merlin did he love it.

"Hi darl-" he was cut off but your lips pressing into his. Your fingers threading through his hair tugging softly, whilst pressing closer to him. James hummed in delight pulling you into him his hands travelling down to your ass, paying no mind to girl awkwardly watching the scene. This was not the greeting he was expecting, but who was he to complain?

When you finally pulled away you giggled at his dazed state, straightening his glasses and wiping the lip gloss from his lips as he looked at you with glossy eyes.

The girl coughed, turning your attention to her “Oh sorry! did I interrupt something?” you exclaimed in faux surprise, smiling at the obviously irritated girl.

“Yes actually” she scoffed “Me and Jamie were just making hogsmeade plans, weren’t we?” she pouted looking towards him, only to find him watching you with wide eyes and a stupidly adorable smile.

Jamie? The. Fucking. Audacity.

“Oh were you?” you smirked stroking the back of James’ head “Is that true, my love?” you sent him a soft smile.

“Huh?” he murmured letting his eyes trail over your body.

You couldn’t help out but let out a laugh watching the girl scowl.

“Jamie” you gained his attention cupping his cheek.

“Yeah”

“It’s rude to not respond baby, she’s asking you something”

“Oh” he blinked “ What was the question?” he asked keeping his eyes on you.

“Whatever” The girl scoffed walking away.

James payed her no mind, pulling you back into him kissing over your face.

“You. Look. Fucking. Ethereal.” he emphasized kissing you after each word

“Mhmm could’ve seen me in something better if you weren’t distracted” you teased, pouting as you trailed a finger down his chest.

James’ head filled with ideas of what that ‘something better’ his breath catching before he caught up with your words.

“Distracted?”

“Mhm with that girl” you say eyes drifting to the Hufflepuff, who was still watching, complaining to her friends.

James smirked as he saw the look of disgust on your face. Were you jealous?

"Find something amusing?" you raised a brow, pulling away "Were you having a nice time her?"

"With Polly?" James chuckled "I couldn't give a shit about her, love."

"I thought her name wa-"

"Who gives a fuck?" James deadpanned pulling you back into him "Why would I care about her when I've got all this" he reasoned running his hands over your body. "As if she could compare to my sexy goddess of a girlfriend"

You couldn't help but smile all your worries washing away, you leaned up whispering in his ear "Yeah well your sexy girlfriend has a present for her champion boyfriend" kissing under his ear before continuing "A red lacy present"

James groaned, his pants tightened as he burrowed his head into your neck. "I should make you jealous more often"

" 'm not jealous" you roll your eyes

"Whatever you say princess"

You locked eyes with the girl over his shoulder, smirking as he kissed at your neck.

So maybe you were jealous? It doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, your sex god boyfriend only had eyes for you.

[mallowsweetmiri]

• One of the Boys •

Reader x Fred Weasley

Based off of Katy Perry’s song “One of the Boys”

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: You’ve always been one of the boys. That was until you came back from summer break looking a bit, different, as Fred puts it.

Warnings: cursing, mildly steamy scenario

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

One of the boys

“Today was bloody brilliant!” Fred cheered and clapped you on the back as he raised his cup to Gryffindor. Practically the whole school was shoved in your common room to celebrate the quidditch cup.

“To Gryffindor!” Oliver bellowed drunkly as everyone drank and cheered.

“Seriously, Y/N, you played fucking amazing today,” Angelina bellowed, downing the rest of her drink.

“I can second that. Since when did you get so bloody good, little one?” George smiled as he put his arm around you. The twins had always been your good friends, the three of you joining the Gryffindor quidditch team in your third years. They’d often referred to you as little one, due to the fact that they towered over you. They constantly teased and pranked you, but you would also join in on their antics. More often than not, you guys were playing quidditch during the warm seasons and pranking Filch in the winter. You were really just one of the boys and you couldn’t be more happy to be a part of their mischief.

“I���ve always been good, Georgie. But I will admit, this was probably my best game yet,” you beamed as you joined the rest in downing your drink.

“You’re only that good thanks to our rigorous coaching throughout the years,” Fred smiled wryly, filling his own cup up again. You rolled your eyes.

“Yea right, Weasley. The two of you combined still wouldn’t be as good as me,” you challenged. The three of you went back and forth all night, drinking and laughing and celebrating Gryffindors victory. The high spirits continued throughout the week and before you knew it you were saying goodbye to all your friends at platform 9 and 3/4.

“Oh! So good to see you sweetie,” Molly smiled warmly as she dragged you into a tight hug, “Have a good summer, we’ll see you in the fall! Say goodbye boys.” Fred and George both approached you and each gave you a quick hug before heading out with the Weasley family.

“See you next year little one!” George called out.

“Don’t skimp out on the quidditch practice, Y/N! You could use it,” Fred shouted, giving you a cheeky smile and a wave. You rolled your eyes and sent a smile back before meeting with your own family and heading home for the summer.

3 months later

You checked yourself out in the mirror one last time and smoothed the top of your hair flat.

“Come on, Y/N! You’re going to miss the train,” your dad called from downstairs.

“Coming!”

Over the summer you had grown a considerable amount. Your dad had been teasing you about how much time you spent in the bathroom getting ready, but you didn’t care. For once in your life you actually felt pretty. Your body had begun to fill out in all the right places and your hair had grown out well past your shoulders now. You had started to shave your legs and wear perfume. You had even bought new clothes as you had outgrown your old wardrobe. All of this had instilled you with a newfound confidence that had you beaming. As you walked onto platform 9 and 3/4, you wore a fitted long sleeve shirt and some new low waisted jeans. You had blown out your hair into soft falling curls and you had even applied some lip gloss. You were excited to start your sixth year with all your friends and your new look.

“Bye guys! I’ll see you for Christmas,” you hugged your family before loading your trunks on the train. As you put your final trunk into the train, someone called your name from behind.

“Y/N?”

You turned around to see Fred and George standing behind you, still towering over your frame.

“Fred! George! How was your summer?” You bounded towards them and hugged George. When you pulled back to hug Fred he just stood there with his mouth slightly agape. George nudged him and he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and leaned in to hug you.

“You look… different,” was all he could manage to say. You chuckled and put your hands on your hips.

“Yes, I’m not so little anymore. You guys can stop calling me little one now,” you teased.

“Nah, you’re still tiny,” George brushed you off as you all started to head onto the train to find a compartment. After walking down the length of the train, you had finally found the compartment where Lee and Angelina were.

“Y/N! How was your summer! Oh my gosh, you look absolutely stunning,” Angelina beamed as she hugged you and pulled you down to sit next to her.

“Thanks Angie, I can say the same about you! And my summer was amazing,” you guys chatted back and forth, catching up on all the latest gossip and all the fun things you did over the summer. Fred and George beamed about the Quidditch World Cup and soon the five of you were full of sweets and ready to take a quick nap before you had to change into your school robes.

“Every year I tell myself not to eat so many chocolate frogs, and every year I eat more than I did the year before,” Lee groaned, leaning back and rubbing his stomach. You laughed and slid down in your own seat, leaning your head against the window and looking out across the green landscape. You were so happy to be back with your friends. The summertime was amazing, but there was nothing like Hogwarts. As you smiled to yourself, you looked up from the window to see Fred staring at you with a serious expression. You raised an eyebrow at him but he just shook his head and looked out the window. That was weird. You shook it off and leaned your head against the window again and nodded off.

Before long, the train had pulled into the station and crowds of students were piling out into to the night to go to welcoming feast. As you filed out of the train and towards the carriages, Fred and George lagged behind a bit and whispered to each other.

“Do you think they’re acting a bit strange?” You leaned in towards Angelina, sending another glance back towards the twins.

“Aren’t they always?” Angelina shrugged as she stepped into the carriage. She had a point.

After a few minutes, you found yourself at the Gryffindor table listening to Dumbledore announce the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everybody increasingly getting excited as his speech went on. The excitement reached its peak as piles of fresh food appeared in front of you and everybody dug into the feast.

“Oh how I missed this food,” you groaned, piling food into your mouth. George hummed in agreement as he piled more potatoes into his mouth. You could feel Fred staring at you again but you decided against meeting his gaze this time. Were they going to prank you or something? He was acting so weird.

Shortly after dinner, everybody headed up to their dorms. Despite wanting to hang out together in the common room, the long day of travel and the large feast caught up with the Gryffindors as the students filed up the winding stairs to their rooms. You had just gotten to your room when you realized you left your book in the common room. You turned around and quietly padded down the stairs to retrieve it. You slowed your steps as you saw the twins huddled together on a couch with their backs turned from you.

“Well yes, I’m not disagreeing. Any bloke can see she looks good, so what? I mean, what are you trying to say?” You managed to hear George say as you approached the coffee table.

“Ooh, who looks good? Does someone have a crush?”

The twins jumped as you grabbed your book next to them.

“Bloody hell, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed with wide eyes. George laughed.

“See, you say you’re no longer little, but you’re so tiny your footsteps don’t even make a sound,” George teased, leaning back into the couch and tossing his arm over it. You rolled your eyes.

“You guys just stomp around like ogres, I walk like a normal human. Anyways, I’m heading to bed. Try not to drool over Angelina, Georgie. It’s only the first day back,” you teased as you turned to head up towards the girls dormitory. You heard George let out a loud laugh before hearing a loud slap and more commotion. You just smiled to yourself, oh how you missed those two. You entered your room and placed your book on your bedside table before going to your wardrobe to change.

“I think George likes you,” you nodded to Angelina as she shot up in her bed.

“Really?” She said with a slight smile. You just chuckled. You were so happy to be back.

The weeks flew by and soon the other wizarding schools had arrived. The only thing that sucked about this whole tournament was that there was no quidditch. It was a surprisingly warm November day when you bounded into the common room looking for a certain pair of red heads. You spotted them huddled up in the corner of the room, probably working on one of their pranking products as you had learned of recently.

“You two,” you pointed at the twins as they whipped their heads up, “wanna play quidditch? Two on two, George and Angelina, Me and Fred.” A cheeky grin immediately grew on George’s face as he turned to look at Fred. A more sheepish smile appeared on Fred’s face as he stood up.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s kick some ass.”

The game had turned out to be exactly what the four of you needed in midst of all the school work that was being assigned. You and Fred flew seamlessly together, scoring over and over again on George and Angelina. They were putting up a good front, but your flying skills were outmatched. You had even attracted a small crowd of students by the time the game ended.

“Good game,” you said, landing onto the field and sticking out your hand for Angelina.

“Yes, valiant effort you two,” Fred smirked, shaking Angelina’s hand after you.

“Merlin, Y/N, I forgot how good you are,” Angelina mumbled as she took her defeat in stride.

“Yeah, shes bloody brilliant,” Fred mumbled with a reserved smile. You looked up at him, beaming at the compliment but he quickly looked away and cleared his throat.

“Gotta admit it, little one. You sure can fly,” George clapped you on the back before following Angelina off the field.

“We make a good team, Freddie,” you smiled, patting his arm before beginning to walk off the field as well. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Why was Fred acting so weird around you? Did he not like you anymore? He had been so distant this year, choosing to spend his time with George and whenever you came over to join them, he seemed to shut down and become reserved. And Fred had certainly never been reserved before. You shook your head and walked back to your dorm to shower. You decided you’d ask George about it that night.

After dinner, you sat in the common room working on some homework with Angelina. You tried to focus on your assignment, but your eyes kept drifting over to the pair huddled in the corner. How in the world were you going to ask George about Fred when they were always together? As if your prayers had been answered, Fred stood up and walked out of the common room. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through the portrait hole. You took no time waiting and began to walk over to George.

“Ah, Y/N, what’s up?” George closed whatever he was working on and put his arm over the back of the couch. You took a seat next to him and turned to face him, nervously playing with your sleeves.

“Um, I actually had a question for you,” you stammered, looking up towards the portrait hole to make sure Fred wasn’t coming back.

“Spit it out, Y/N. What’s up? You’re making me worried,” George laughed, scooting closer to you. You cleared your throat.

“Does Fred have a problem with me? I dunno, it just seems like he doesn’t like me around anymore. He’s been acting so weird and I don’t want to bother him if he doesn’t want me hanging out with you guys anymore,” you trailed off, looking down at your legs. George put his arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N, I can promise you that is not the case,” he sighed, “we both love hanging out with you.”

“Really?” You let out a breath and chuckled.

“Yes, really. Merlin, he is such an idiot,” he grumbled to himself, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow at him when Fred walked back into the common room. You looked up and your eyes met his. As he got closer to you and George, his brows furrowed. George took his arm off your shoulders and you shifted your body away from his.

“What are you guys talking about?” Fred questioned, stopping in his tracks and crossing his arms over his chest, looking mildly annoyed. Why were his forearms so ripped? You shook your head and cleared your throat.

“I was just bugging him about the herbology assignment, which he hasn’t even started,” you glared at George. It was true that he hadn’t even started the lengthy assignment that was due by the end of the week. George chuckled.

“Did you set it up Freddie?” George questioned, probably about a prank, looking up at his twin. Fred still looked visibly annoyed.

“Yes. I did, but I should’ve made you do it.” Fred said dryly, his jaw clenching slightly. George rolled his eyes. You looked between the twins with a confused expression. You rarely saw them annoyed at each other.

“Alright, well I’m headed upstairs. Goodnight you guys,” you ducked out of the awkward atmosphere and towards Angelina to grab your books.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” George said as Fred sat down in your seat and began to whisper something to George. What was that all about?

A few days went by and Fred was still acting distant. You wondered if George had even said anything to Fred about it. If anything, Fred was avoiding you even more. George tried to give you passing smiles and waves, but anytime he passed you in the halls, Fred would completely ignore you. Even at dinner, he would rarely engage in conversation with you and you were starting to feel really hurt. After this particular night where he purposefully avoided your gaze the entire dinner, you were actually angry at him. He’d been acting so weird all year and then as soon as you talked to George about it, he started completely ignoring you. That night, you left your dorm and stomped up to the twins room. You knocked on the door and stood there with your arms crossed waiting until George opened it. He looked taken aback by your angry presence.

“I need to talk to Fred, alone.” You stated. George gulped and turned to Lee.

“Let’s go to the common room,” he grabbed Lee and pushed past you. Fred was now looking at you from his bed. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. It looked half scared and half the nonchalant expression he’d been giving you the past few days.

“What the fuck is your problem with me?” You stomped over the his bed where he sat. He raised an eyebrow at you and crossed his arms.

“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. What are you talking about?” He shrugged as he looked up at you nonchalantly, but you could see his jaw tensing.

“Are you serious right now, Fred? You know exactly what I’m been talking about. You’ve been avoiding me all week, ever since I talked to George about you. I don’t know if he even mentioned it to you, but I thought you didn’t like me anymore! He told me that wasn’t true, but now I’m not too sure anymore! You’ve been acting like a prat all week!” You were fuming at this point. You couldn’t believe he had the audacity to pretend like he hadn’t been ignoring you for days.

“That’s not fuckimg true! I told you I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N,” he jumped up off the bed and stalked towards you, “why can’t you just take my word for it?” His height became apparent as he loomed over you. You only stood up straighter and kept your arms crossed.

“Well then what’s your problem? Why don’t you like hanging out with me anymore? Why are you avoiding me?” You questioned, your anger slowly seeping away and being replaced with the hurt you’d been feeling. Fred sighed, his posture relaxing as he saw your eyes fill with sadness. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I do like hanging out with you, Y/N. Merlin, I’ve been missing spending time with you, I just…” he trailed off, his eyes falling to the floor.

“You just what, Fred? Since when are you so shy?” You asked genuinely. That only made Fred groan and run his hands roughly through his hair again.

“Since I started liking you! Since you showed up on the platform looking like that and now I can’t even look at you without thinking you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” the words tumbled out of his mouth and left you standing there with your mouth open. Did he just say he likes you? Did he just call you beautiful? “I miss playing quidditch with you and coming up with pranks together but fuck, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. I want to be with you.” You stood still for what felt like a long time. Were you dreaming right now? Your brain scrambled to make sense of what was happening. I mean, Fred was standing in front of you, confessing his feelings to you in a very real way. But you’d been friends for so long. What if this ruined everything? But he was standing right in front of you with his messy hair and his freckled face and his furrowed brows and he just looked so good and he was finally talking to you again and

“Oh, fuck it,” you breathed out, closing the space between the two of you. You were kissing him. And it felt so good. He groaned into your lips as his hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his body as his lips worked against your own. Your hands tangled in his red locks as you pulled at his neck to deepen the kiss. His hands slid up your body until he held your cheeks. He kissed you softly one more time before pulling back. You face was blushed red as you stared up at him with wide eyes. He finally let out a breathy laugh and his lips curved up into a crooked smile.

“You’re so cute, fuck,” he laughed, still holding your face in his large hands, “I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a prat. I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But after kissing you, fuck, I should’ve ruined it a long time ago.”

“I just wish you would’ve told me earlier. Had I known you liked me, I could’ve had you kissing me all year,” you smirked as you walked him to the edge of his bed. He sat on the edge and pulled you down with him.

“Let’s make up for lost time then,” Fred whispered as he pulled you to his lips. You groaned as you straddled his lap and deepened the kiss. This man knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Freddie,” you moaned into his mouth as his hands found their way to your ass. He chuckled as his grabbed your hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I saw you bent over your luggage on the platform,” he breathed out with a smirk as he slapped your ass. You gasped and hit his chest.

“Freddie!” You scolded, but it didn’t last long as he pulled you back to his mouth, making you moan as his thumbs rubbed over your hip bones.

“Bloody hell,” you heard someone say from the door. You gasped and pulled away from Fred only to see George standing in the doorway with his jaw wide open. Fred’s smirked stayed plastered on his face and his grip held you tight on his lap.

“Sorry Georgie, think you can give us a few more minutes? We’re still talking.”

[https-alberich]

CW: Reader is almost assulted. Mentions of spreading rumours. Reader discretion is advised.

Notes: Guys I'm so excited to work on Kyle's fic. I might only stop at 3 OCs. Any more is too many.

Cheerleader yandere who takings her friends, looking at all the new lip gloss shades from her favourite makeup brand.

Cheerleader yandere who notices you getting cornered by some creep in one of the aisles.

Cheerleader yandere who storms right over, kicks the guy in the gut with her heel. 

“And look at this shade! Isn’t it pretty?” Cassie smiled. “Oh, Dei come here! I found the perfect one for you.” She quickly tugged on one of her friend’s arms and pulled her towards the swatching station, comparing assorted colours. “No. this one’s too dark...” She pursed her lips, deep in thought. A scuffle coming from one of the aisles snaps her out of her train of thought. Cassie balled her fists and shoved people out of the way, walking over to where you were trying to push off a man grabbing at you. He barely sees it coming when a heeled foot connects with stomach, making him double over in pain.

Cheerleader yandere who curses him out and reaches out to make sure you’re ok.

Cheerleader yandere who offers to walk you to where you need to go.

Cheerleader yandere who holds the umbrella over your head, ignoring the way her shoulder becomes wet by the rain.

“You sure you, ok?” Cassie asked you for the millionth time, looking over at you, the minute she saved you, she had been attached to your hip, her hand gripped yours, it was tight. Like she was trying to bruise you, mark you as hers. You had reassured her, telling her that you were fine, and that she really didn’t need to do this, but the woman insisted. Telling you that she was no longer in the mood for shopping. She needed to make sure her angel was safe. 

Cheerleader yandere who invites you to her table during lunch.

Cheerleader yandere who glares at anyone who speaks up about it.

Cheerleader yandere who will personally feed you herself.

Cassie giggled, holding a spoonful of rice up to your face. “Open up darling.” She cooed, green eyes carefully watching as you parted your lips and took the spoonful of rice in your mouth. It was good, not too salty, not too spicy either. A good ‘middle ground.’ Cassie giggled and brushed away some hair from your face. “There we go, angel. You’re so pretty you know.” She whispered, leaning in to kiss your cheek, leaving a clear pink sparkly glob of lip-gloss on your face. “My cute little angel…”

Cheerleader yandere who insists that you come to all her practise sessions.

Cheerleader yandere who will not hesitate to move around some of her friends if your eyes linger too long on them.

Cheerleader yandere who wants your eyes on her. And her only.

Cassie grins when you cheered for her, chapping your hands to the thump of the beat as the girls perform for you. Your eyes slid over each member, watching them dance in turn. But your eyes always landed back on Cassie. Just like you were supposed to. Like the good little angel, you are. You didn’t want a repeat of the Molly situation. Staring a little too long at the girl had Cassie whispering the worst rumours that could’ve possibly plagued the school. You caught her one time, whispering something into her friend’s ear. When she noticed you watching, her brilliant green eyes gleamed and her lips curled into a grin.

Cheerleader yandere who will socially ruin anyone’s life if they think about touching you.

Cheerleader yandere who wants to spoil her little angel.

Cheerleader yandere who wants to claim you as hers.

All hers.

Taglist: @mono273

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Polly and Ann. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: 💗

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

Barbie sets up her vanity on the desk. She opens the little plastic doors on the mirror to reveal the built-in lights before bending over to plug it in. You’re amused at her efforts as she reaches around the legs in search of a socket. 

You’re so excited. You’ve been counting down the days since your best friend came up with the idea. She found the ad online and forwarded it to you. It was almost too good to be true. You came together to meet the building manager, Jonathan, and he showed you all around. You can’t believe you both snagged a room. 

Barbie stands and pushes a button on the base of the mirror. She fiddles with her phone and there’s a chiming noise. Music starts to play from the speakers behind the vanity. Nifty. 

She lifts her makeup chest onto the desk and unrolls her collection of brushes and other tools. Her passion is admirable. You guess that’s why you are friends; she doesn’t shy away from what she loves. For her, it’s cosmetics, for you, it’s clothes. 

Lulu watches her as she hovers around the door. The girl hasn’t stopped moving since you go there. She’s like a hummingbird, always fluttering. She has this nervous laugh that seems to escape her without notice. 

“What are you taking, Lu?” You ask, hoping to distract her from her nerves. 

“Oh, uh, mathematics.” 

“Math? Wow.” 

“I’m not much for numbers but I have to do accounting courses if I want my business degree,” Barbie snips as she sorts through her makeup pads. 

“Business? That’s cool. What about you, Polly?” Lulu sways and tucks her hands behind her back. 

“Interior design. My mom forbade me from going into fashion but I convinced her to let me do this instead,” you explain. “It’s good money and I can still sew on the side, I guess.” 

“That’s interesting. I don’t know much about fashion. Vogue or whatever,” she tentatively peeks over at Barbie. “You have so much makeup.” 

“I’m a collector,” Barbie trills. “You want me to do you up? I don’t mind and I’m religious about cleaning my stuff.” 

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to,” Lulu waves her hands. 

“I don’t have to but I want to,” Barbie insists. 

“It’s her hobby,” you say, “just don’t let her get you with the glitter.” 

Lulu shrugs, “okay, nothing too heavy. I have sensitive skin.” 

“Oh, you don’t need much,” Barbie assures her, “your eyes are the perfect shape.” 

You hide a yawn as your leg bounces, jiggling the whole bed with it. You lean back on the heels of your hand, bored but not unhappy. The music fills the lull as Barbie searches through her palettes. 

You flinch as you hear something in the hallway. You get up as Barbie asks Lulu her opinion on lip gloss. You open the door and peek out. A girl carries and old looking suitcase down the hall, a box cradled in her other arm. You step out and she tosses the box in surprise. 

“Oh, hi,” she touches her chest and catches her breath. She looks over in dread at the scattered contents of the box. “Uh... sorry. You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry, I was just coming to say hi,” you go to her as she leaves her suitcase to the side and gets down to gather up her belongings. You help her, picking up a framed photo of a woman. She looks a lot like her. Maybe her mother? 

“I’m Ann,” she says as she takes the frame. 

“Polly,” you reply. “There’s some other girls in there,” you point over your shoulder. “You’re welcome to join us once you get your stuff down.” 

“Uh, sure, maybe,” she lifts the box and stands. “Tired.” 

“Right, yeah, I think everyone is. Been a long day.” 

“Is everyone else already here?” She asks. 

“I think. There’s two others downstairs. I guess you didn’t see them on your way in.” 

“Just the boy, uh, Peter? He’s nice. He wanted to play some ping pong but my hands were full,” she backs up to grab her bag, “I’ll knock on the door if I get a chance.” 

“Sure, yeah, we’d be happy to have ya. I know we were thinking of drinks so... maybe later.” 

“Okay,” she nods and lets herself into the last empty room.  

You go back into Barbie’s room as she bends to ply powder to Lulu’s face. “Someone here?” She asks. 

“Yeah, the last girl. Ann.” 

“Ann? That’s so pretty. Was she nice?” She asks. 

“Oh, super nice. She seemed a bit tired but I think we all get that. I told her to stop by if she has the energy.” 

“Awesome,” Barbie preens and stands back to examine Lulu. 

You wade around the room restlessly. Now that everyone is here, you’re impatient. You go to the window and glance out at the yard. It’s green and lush and perfectly groomed. You touch the window. The glass feels peculiarly thick. You twist the latch between the panes and push out. Heavy, too. 

As you do, you notice the figure below. Steve notices you too. The large blond man turns and peers up. You stand dumbly as you are. He raises a hand in a casual wave. You frown and pull back without returning the gesture. 

“Oof, that pollen’s going to get me good,” Barbie sniffles, “honey, will you look in my bag for my claritan?” 

“You’re always so dramatic,” you tease her as you tuck down your concern. 

You go to Barbie’s purse and search around for the pills. You don’t want to worry her by asking about that man. If everyone’s here, shouldn’t he be headed out. Jonathan touted the new security system and he mentioned routine check-ins. You really don’t like the idea of constant surveillance, even if it’s for your own safety. 

“You okay?” Barbie asks as you approach her with the box of tablets. 

“Fine, fine, just... adjusting.” 

“We all are,” she sets down her brush and take the medicine. “Right, Lu?” 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s so new,” the girl wiggles on the chair and giggles. “And far from home.” 

You give her a sympathetic smile. You can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in a whole different country. The more you think about it, the more your own homesickness mounts. Your family isn’t the best but you can’t help but miss them just a little bit. 

You put the portrait on the empty desk next to the box. You’re too exhausted to unpack. You drag your feet and sit on the bed. There’s a tidy stack of folded sheets on top, next to a card. Strange. 

You reach for the envelope and tear it open. Inside, you read the little welcome; ‘Consider this a housewarming. Please don’t hesitate to call should you have any issues with your housing. Jonathan Pine.’ Under his name, he’s written the number you already have in your phone. You lower it to your lap and something slides out of the envelope. 

You bend forward to take the gift card from the floor. Huh. That’s a bit too generous. A gift card to the local mall. You wouldn’t spit in the face of kindness but this all seems a bit much, especially after staying so long with Marla. 

You put it all back in the envelope and lay sideways on the bed, legs still over the edge. You were so happy to get a room there; clean, affordable, great location. Not that you’re there, you’re overwhelmed by it all. All these pretty girls, younger yet well ahead of you. 

It won’t do to get hung up on age or time or whatever. You should at least try to make friends. They seem lovely so far. Besides, you didn’t just miss out on classes for all those years you took off, no, you lost out on the social scene. 

You huff and push yourself up. Better be a human and go and meet your roommates. The long you wait, the more awkward it’ll be. Besides, you’re done with being left behind. 

You peek out into the hall before you emerge. You step out and shut the door gently. You cross the white carpet with blue roses and knock on the same door that girl Polly came out of. The moment your knuckles hit the wood, a brew of nerves begins in your stomach. 

It doesn’t take long for an answer. It’s almost like Polly’s waiting for you on the other side. You smile and give an awkward wave. Why did you do that? 

“Hey, offer stand?” You ask. 

“Oh, hi! Yes, come on in and meet everyone,” she steps back. You poke your head in before the rest of you and push your shoulders up, “hi, I’m Ann.” 

“Barbie,” the one standing up introduces, her focus on the other as she draws on her eyelids with liner. “This is Lulu. She’s an exchange student.” 

“Hi,” Lulu squeaks then giggles as she keeps her eyes closed. 

“Stay still,” Barbie tuts. She gets an apology and another tinkling laugh. 

“It’s just the three of you?” Ann asks. “And Peter?” 

“And Molly,” Barbie answers as she pulls back and caps the liner. “Quiet but sweet.” She sucks her teeth as she looks over Lulu. “We’ll do your mascara and gloss and then we’ll go do some driiiiinks.” She shimmies as she sings the last words. 

“I brought vodka if you wanna share,” Polly offers, “Barbie only drinks tequila.” 

“Can’t go wrong with a margarita,” Barbie counters. 

“I’ve never drank,” Lulu says. “My mom never let it in the house.” 

“Oh my god! Alright, well, we’ll make sure to give you a starter drink,” Barbie chirps. 

“Vodka’s fine, thanks,” you say to Polly. You look around and take in the large makeup chest with its many shelves and the roll of brushes in all sizes. 

“Barbie’s really into cosmetics. We go on dates to Sephora.” 

“They know me by name,” Barbie brags. 

“Mm,” you nod and clasp your hands together. You don’t know what to say. “So, uh, super nice building huh?” 

“Oh, it’s fucking perfect,” Barbie says. “I lived on campus last year and the showers were always clogged with hair. Ew.” 

“Hah, yeah, well, just wait a couple months,” Polly scoffs. 

“Mm, and there’s good security,” you suggest as you drag your hand up your arm, “I met that guy on the way in. Steve.” 

“Ah, yes, he’s nice,” Barbie says. 

Polly hums and her lips thin as she glances at the window. Lulu giggles again but doesn’t add anything. 

“And Jonathan is a sweetheart. That accent, too,” Barbie laughs. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, he’s nice.” 

“Sy is... nice too,” Lulu says. “The gardener.” 

“Honey, I need to do your lips,” Barbie chides. 

“Sorry,” Lulu stills and lets the other girl paint her with pink gloss. 

“There’s a gardener?” You ask as you share a look with Polly. 

“Done,” Barbie announces and stand straight. 

Lulu looks at herself in the mirror and bats her lashes, “oh my god, it’s awesome! Wow! I don’t even look like me!” 

“You do. I just highlighted your beauty,” Barbie assures her. “Ann, how about it? You want a glow up?” 

“Uh, no, that’s fine. Lulu, you said there’s a gardener?” 

“Of course,” Barbie shrugs, “I mean, look at the yard. I’m not trimming the hedges, are you?” 

“Yeah, he’s a big guy. Super helpful. The other day, I got locked out by accidents. Oh, you gotta be careful with the front door.” 

“Right,” you squint. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“We got all year to complain about the house, guys, let’s go get the others and get the party started,” Barbie whines as she looks around and flits over to a Louis Vuitton bag, “let me just get my tequila. Pol, go get your bottle and we’ll ball out.” 

You force a smile but it’s not entirely fake. You’re excited. You’re finally getting started on your life after dwelling so long on the end of it. You just wish your mom was here to see it. You wish you could call her so she could tell you she’s proud. 

She would be, wouldn’t she?

[dreamingofmarauders]

𝐖𝐡𝐲?

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

James Potter x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Previous Part Next Part Series Masterlist

Summary: In which James gets to see your other side.

Warnings: Mentions of injury/death, crying, fluff (maybe…?)

───※ ·❆· ※───

James had woken up a few hours later, finding you still asleep. His stomach grumbled and he decided to get food for himself and you, for when you would wake.

He found the food prepared by Molly and headed back in only to find you standing, gazing outside through the window. James quickly set the food down.

“What in the world are you doing up!?”

You turned around and merely stared at him before saying, “Oh crap, how did I end up in hell!? I was supposed to be in heaven! Now you're going to annoy me for eternity.”

James narrowed his eyes, “You are not dead.” He answered before his eyes softened, “Please sit back down, you’re not supposed to be up and running just yet.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.” You replied but James noticed how you winced with each step you took, as the effects of the wound were still very fresh. You let out a small cry of pain as you dropped back onto the bed as the healing skin stretched painfully.

James immediately began to fuss over you, “Shit, are you alright? Where does it hurt? Should I try to get someone? Or should-“

“Potter, relax.” You interrupted him. “I’m fine.”

He nodded before handing you a plate full of assorted foods.

“Molly threatened me that you better have eaten this before she comes back in the morning to check on you, or she'll have my head.”

A small smile crawled onto your lips, “That would have been an amusing sight, but remind me to thank Molly.”

James pouted but bit back the remark sitting upon his tongue. Instead he voiced the one thought that was haunting him.

“Why?”

You paused, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “Pardon?”

“Why? Why did you take my place? Why did you save me from the spell and took the hit yourself?”

You sighed, setting your plate to the side.

“It was better me than you.” You answered, staring off into the distance as your mind traveled elsewhere. “You have family and friends that would be devastated if anything happened to you. And me,” You let out a cold laugh, “My family would celebrate my death, plus I guess so I would deserve it.” You voice cracked near the end.

“No you don’t.” James immediately said, kneeling in front of you. “Why would you think that?”

Your eyes glossed over, “I had vowed to protect someone I considered a younger brother, a-and I left him there in that cruel world.”

“Who?” James questioned.

“Regulus.”

“Regulus?” James asked in confusion, “As in Sirius’ younger brother, Regulus?”

You nodded in confirmation. “I took him under my wing at Hogwarts and although he had a hard way of expressing it, I know he loved me a lot too. He was broken after Sirius ran away from home, and I know it must have hurt even more when I decided to escape that dark world. I tried to take him with me, begged him, but unfortunately a small part of him was influenced by his parents. Plus, he was too scared to go against his parents.” You explained, eyes welling up. “I left him there when I shouldn’t have, and perhaps all of this,” You gestured towards your injured body, “Is just the consequences of my actions.”

James was reeling in with shock. Sure he had seen you and Regulus a few times together at Hogwarts, but he never realized you were capable of loving someone this deeply and loyally, and that you both shared such a huge bond. James had always been at the receiving end of hate. You would laugh at him, mock him, poke fun at him, tease him, give him glares, sneers and what not, but apparently that was just for him, and Sirius too.

He had never gotten the chance to witness this soft, loving and caring side to you.

It suddenly came crashing down hard on James. Remus and Lily were right about you. James truly had been wrong about you this entire time.

Your sniffles brought him back and he cupped your face, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“Y/n, listen, you are not at fault here. I’ll tell you what I told Sirius when he was in a similar state. You had given Regulus the option, the opportunity to start a fresh life. It was his choice to stay behind, no matter how hard you tried. You can’t blame yourself, because you are not at fault at all.” James said, reassuringly. It seemed to somewhat work but you began to hiccup instead and James mentally slapped himself.

“I just wish he had listened and come along. It scares me for what he has to do out there, and I have no idea if he’s safe or not.” You said, shaking your head slightly. “I hate the world, why can’t everyone just be kind and happy? Causing wars and violence does nothing but destroy lives.” You rambled, clearly upset about everything.

James nodded but began to panic when more tears welled up in your eyes, "Please, please, stop crying. You literally have no energy and this is not good for you, please, please stop!" He rambled.

You slowly began to calm down, feeling even more tired and exhausted, with your head throbbing even more. Afterwards, James urged you to eat some more before you were to sleep again. You shot him a tired yet amused smile.

"What?" He asked, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

"You hate me, remember?"

James suddenly flushed a deep red, mumbling something incoherent.

"What was that?" You asked teasingly.

"I don't hate you."

You arched an eyebrow, "Really? Well you had an odd way of showing it."

He went even more red, if that was possible. "I just- I'm sorry, ok!?"

You smiled gently, "Just because of what happened earlier, doesn't mean you're obligated or owe me something, you know?"

James stuttered, "Why did you behave cold towards me at Hogwarts?" He asked out of the blue, making you narrow your eyes at him.

"Because you made me a target in one of your pranks against Slytherin."

James frowned. Sure he had tried to target you a few times throughout Hogwarts but you had always managed to evade them. Somehow.

"Yeah, obviously you don't remember." You said, your tone tinged with bitterness.

It was your fourth year at Hogwarts, nearing the end as summer break approached. You were already running late for your next class and as you rounded a corner, a huge explosion happened, throwing you against the wall. You cursed and made a move to get to your class but found you were stuck to the wall. You used all your strength but ended up only hitting your head hard on the wall.

"Shit!"

You yelped as something wet and gooey poured onto your head, covering you from head to toe with it.

"Ew, what is this?"

However, before you could get an answer for that, another explosion happened and a huge swamp appeared, going up to your chest. To top it all off, fireworks erupted in the corridor, which finally attracted a crowd as students of nearby classes rushed out.

Two boys led the crowd, their faces looking eager. Although their smiles slightly diminished the moment their eyes landed on you.

"Aw, damn, this is just one snake! The trap was for a bunch of snakes, not just one pathetic Slytherin!" Sirius exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly in your direction.

James snorted, "But still! Look at her! Such a loser!" The whole crowd laughed. Tears burned your eyes as the laughter echoed off the walls, people pointing and snickering at you. You looked down, embarrassment flooding your whole being. You didn't realize when Professor McGonagall pushed her way through the crowd, nor were you aware of when the swamp vanished or when you were free from the wall. However, tears began to cascade down your face as a sob made its way out of your mouth, when your face broke into hives.

You heard the corridor erupt into shrieks of laughs, all related to your current state. You managed a look up and saw the two boys behind this fiasco, practically rolling around on the ground as they chuckled. You felt hatred for them both. How could they be so cruel? You spun on your heel as the crowd parted for you as you ran and ran until you entered the Slytherin common room. You could see Madam Pomfrey for the reaction to your face after, you just wanted to be alone.

Regulus, who had returned from his class some seconds before you, looked up from his place by the couch, his eyes going wide noticing your state. He stood up and grabbed you by the arm to stop you.

"What happened?" He asked in concern.

"Those stupid boys! I hate them! I hate Potter and Black, they're just plain cruel!"

Regulus' face dawned with realization as a fire burned in his eyes. How dare they hurt you like that?

You shrugged off his hold and ran upstairs to your dormitory, to let out all the pent up emotions. Meanwhile, Regulus' face hardened as he watched you go. He walked out of the common room with determination. No way was someone going to hurt his sister and get away with it.

"And then Regulus hexed us, and kept doing so until Minnie stepped in." James said, completing the story for you instead as the memory came rushing back to him.

"Yeah. The humiliation was horrible and over the summer, I decided to hold a grudge against you two, so began the good ol' rivalry. Later on, as you boys began to change your ways, I felt myself softened but the constant back and forth poking sort of just became our thing." You finished saying, shrugging your shoulders.

"And Remus?"

"What about him?"

"How come you were on good terms with him?"

"Because he was not in on that prank because it was orchestrated by you and your idiotic twin. He felt bad and came to visit me in the Hospital Wing the following day and I appreciated that he was apologizing on behalf of his friends. We became close after that. Oh also," You said, a smirk making its way onto your face, "I only managed to avoid all your pranks meant for me because Remus would tell me beforehand."

A scowl crossed James' face, "That traitor!" However, his expression softened when he heard a chuckle leave your lips.

"Leave poor Remus alone. You lot gave him loads of trouble at school as it was, no need for more."

James grinned mischievously at that before his expression faded into a guilty one.

"I am truly sorry for everything." He sincerely apologized.

You shot him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

James rubbed the back of his neck nervously before extending a hand out. "You want to start over?" He offered.

You looked at him and then his hand. This was an opportunity for the pair of you to forget old enmity and begin afresh. You smiled, clasping his hand.

"Hi, I'm Y/n L/n."

James' shoulders slumped with relief.

He flashed her a bright smile. "Hello, I'm James Potter."

You giggled, "Pleasure to meet you stranger."

"Same here, stranger." He answered, earning another giggle from you, making his heart warm up.

You two had a long way to go but this new opportunity for a better start was something you both would later on be very thankful for.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you liked this chapter and see you in the next one! Take care! <33

Wizard Buddies (Taglist): @quack-quack-snacks @jamespottergf @themarauderswife7 @amethyistheart

[toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics]

Celestial Beings

Chapter Two: Talking it Out

Characters: Reader, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Summary: After many, many days of dealing with Moody's visits, (y/n) get two new visitors, who seem to be much much nicer.

Word Count: 2,285

Warnings: Torture Mention, SA Mention (it's mostly glossed over, no major details), Child Abuse Mention

A/N: Just in case I forgot to mention previously, this is not completely canon-compliant. I also have made Moody more of an a-hole, if anyone wants to know my thought process on that matter go ahead in send in a quick ask. Actually, feel free to send in an ask about anything, I would love to answer! I'm enjoying writing this, and I hope that at least some people are enjoying reading this.

Torture and pain were nothing new to (y/n), actually, it rather reminded her of home. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the small room, nor how many times she’d had her “visits” with Moody. They rarely lasted longer than a few hours. The longest time, from what little sense of it she had, was somewhere around 8 hours.

Speaking of home, she missed it quite a bit. Malfoy Manor was a lot more cruel on the inside than most people could even guess. Not particularly any fault of Mrs. Malfoy or Draco, but rather Lucius. The head of the household, and loyal follower of her father, obeyed any and every command given. Of course, most of those orders were on how to best “raise and properly train” (y/n), which typically involved some form of torture.

(Y/n) of course, followed along as well, it was easier than dealing with the consequences. Out of everything, waterboarding was the worst. Followed closely behind spending any nights with a few perverted men, less as a consequence, more so as a reward for their loyalty to You-Know-Who. She had the scars to prove the ordeals she went through, as much as she would prefer to forget.

Even though she acted nonchalant about it all, she was still a person. She just couldn’t afford to be seen that way. In her opinion, it was better to be seen as an object or a weapon, a mere pawn on a chessboard. Then at least she herself could pretend to have no weaknesses, no breaking point. She preferred that people believed the rumors and lies, that she was as deadly as her father and as crazed as Bellatrix Lestrange.

Mrs.Weasley opened the cell door, a tired look on her face and a plate in hand. She gave (y/n) a sad smile as she set it down near the entrance.

“Couldn’t you just give him something to go off of?” Mrs. Weasley pleaded with her. “Anything so you could have a break from it all? You look downright awful, I’m worried for you.”

“What could I give him that he would believe?” (Y/n) asked, slowly grabbing the sandwich from the plate and taking a bite. “After all, I imagine it’s been at least a few weeks if not a month or so? I haven’t uttered a single thing he’s believed, including that his curses and beatings won’t work. I’m used to it, it’s what I’ve been molded to be.”

“What about something small, something that no one knows about, well You-Know-Who?” Mrs. Weasley tries, leaning against the door frame. “From what I’ve gathered he hasn’t exactly been the most caring of-”

“Don’t.” (Y/n) said flatly, meeting the older woman’s eyes. “Truly don’t go there. He cares, just in his own way.”

Mrs. Weasley is quiet after that, unsure as to what to say. She sighs, picking up the plate and turning to leave. Once the door was shut (y/n) sits back against the cold wall, no longer having the appetite for her sandwich.

“He does care. I just don’t know if it’s about me or the results I give him.” she gathers up the blanket, draping it over her legs. “No, he cares about me, what father wouldn’t care about their children? Even Lucius cares about Draco, and he doesn’t care about much else than impressing my father.” (Y/n) sat in the dark, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company and the occasional bug scurrying across the floor.

This time when the door opened it was someone (y/n) had not seen before. Or rather two someones she hadn’t seen. Both men were tall, one with dark, long curly hair and the other with light brown, short-combed hair. (Y/n) recognized one of them as Sirius Black, the first person to escape Azkaban prison. The other took her a few seconds to place, it wasn’t until the light hit his face, revealing the scars that she knew it was Remus Lupin, a werewolf known to be heavily against her father.

“Well, isn’t this a treat?” She said, slowly getting to her feet. “A blood-traitor and a half-breed? What did I do to have you grace my presence?” Remus flinched at the mention of half-breed.

“I came down here to see who could possibly have Moody stumped,” Sirius growled, stepping in front of Remus ever so slightly. “Imagine my surprise when I see you’re nothing more than another idiot, too stubborn and ignorant for your own good.”

“I’m the idiot?” (Y/n) laughed. “Am I the one torturing the same person the same 20 ways over and over in the hopes something will give? No, I’m the one who is with-standing it because the consequences of giving in are worse than dealing with a little more pain.”

“What could be worse than everything Moody has put you through?” Remus mused. “He’s told us some of what he’s done, none of which we agreed with. The real reason we’re down here is because we took a vote.”

“A vote?” She took a step back, unsure now of the situation she was in. “A vote for what? Who gets first dibs?”

“What?” Sirius looked taken aback, holding up his hands innocently. “No, we took a vote over if Moody should be down here with you anymore.”

“We decided against it. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.” Remus conjured up a lantern and hung it on the ceiling. “From now on we’re just going to talk.”

“So we’ve moved on from physical torture to psychological, understood.” (Y/n)’s shoulder relaxed slightly. “I can handle that too.”

“No, no, no. I think you’re still not understanding.” Remus smiled, looking at Sirius. “That’s all we’re going to do from now on. Sirius has enlightened us on what you’ve probably grown used to growing up.”

“Enlightened? What would he know about any of that?” she sneered, feeling even more vulnerable than before. Somehow talking seemed more daunting than hours of Cruciatous curses and water-boarding.

“You’re forgetting what family I, regrettably, belong to,” Sirius grumbled, shutting the door. “I have a feeling your upbringing was at least somewhat similar to my own, if not worse. Your father seems to pay you the same amount of care my mother gave me, which is to say nothing unless you are their perfect doll.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly be-”

“Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you.” Sirius glared at her, arms crossed. “Besides, you can give everyone else the whole “He cares for me, just in a different way” b.s. like you gave Molly, but it won’t work on me. I tried that too, now I realize how bloody wrong I was.”

“Sirius, we came to talk, not to therapise,” Remus warned, putting his hand on Sirius’s chest. “How about we start small, like cornish pixie small?” he glanced at (y/n) almost asking her for permission.

“Right, apologies.” Sirius took a deep breath. “Let’s just start small, right?” Remus dropped his hand and turned back to (y/n).

“I don’t see what actual choice I have,” (Y/n) sat down on top of her sleeping bag, bringing her knees to her chest. “What’s the rules then?”

“No rules, just talk.” Remus once again said, conjuring up some wooden chairs. “Would you like a chair as well, or are you okay there?”

“I’m fine.” (Y/n) watched as the two men sat down. “So, what would you like to talk about? The weather? To me, it seems the same every day to me.”

“Funny,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “But, to be completely honest I haven’t a clue.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Remus asks. “I prefer blue myself.”

“I like gold a lot,” Sirius mutters, still seemingly uninterested in the conversation. “It’s one of the few colors I can see both in my animagus form and human form.”

“It may seem cliche, but I like green.” (Y/n) admits after sitting in silence for a moment. “Not any green though, I enjoy deep greens, phthalo green is a good one, and so is forest green, and juniper.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about different shades of greens, is there any particular reason?” Sirius asked, sitting up more in his chair.

“Not really, it just comes in handy when it comes to potions and herbology.” she shrugged. The three of them were silent for a moment. “So, did either of you ever, um, I don’t know, did either of you ever find a way to sneak into the headmaster’s quarters? Because I did, plenty of times.”

“And you never tried to kill him for your dad?” Sirius seemed confused. “I feel like if you wanted his approval as bad as you seem to, you would’ve, well you know.”

“Answer my question first and then I’ll answer yours.” (Y/n) responded. “Have either of you snuck into Dumbledore’s quarters?”

“I, well, I tried to once, but not while I was still at the school,” Sirius smiled to himself. “It was after I escaped prison. I snuck into the castle looking for Peter and saw a rat head that way. Turned out to be a normal rat.”

“I never really even thought of the idea. I mean, he’s someone I imagine has a lot of security and spells cast around him to protect him from that sort of thing.” Remus admitted. “Your turn, answer Sirius’s question.”

“No, I never tried to kill him.” (Y/n) smirks. “The idea is quite intriguing though. Could you imagine how funny it’d be, if the daughter of the all and powerful Dark Lord, age 13, manages to murder the one person he fears above all else? Besides I liked school.”

“Why did you sneak in then?” Remus prodded, leaning forwards, studying her as she toyed with her fingers. “If not to kill Dumbledore, why bother?”

“To be completely and totally honest? I wanted to be the best at potions, and Dumbledore just so happened to be very close friends with a certain Nicholas Flammel. In order to be able to make a Philosopher’s Stone one would have to excel in both alchemy and potion-making.” she stood up, leaning against the wall. “He had a portrait of him in there, I would sneak in, ask him a million and one questions about potions, and then by the next time I came back I had tested and confirmed what he told me. I took great joy in Snape watching me get better at his own craft than he was.”

Sirius let out a gruff chuckle, which soon became a hollering laugh. Even Remus couldn’t contain himself, joining in with his own chorus of giggles. (Y/n) didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but watching the two of them laugh as hard as they were made her let out a giggle or two. The three of them talked, just talked for a time.

When the knock came at the door (y/n) stiffened, eyeing Sirius as he opened it. Much to her relief, it was Mrs. Weasley bringing dinner along with a small pillow. Sirius thanked her, taking the food from her arms and holding it out to (y/n), offering it to her. She cautiously took it, careful to not get too close as she retreated to her corner of the cell. Mrs. Weasley smiled and held up the pillow.

“It’s not much, but it’s better than what Alastor was giving you.” The older woman set it next to the door. “Whenever you’re ready for it you can grab it. No rush, dear.”

(Y/n) nodded, whispering a small thank you under her breath as Mrs.Weasley left. The soup and bread she had been given more than filled her up. Remus and Sirius continued talking to one another as she ate, everyone now slightly more comfortable with each other.

“I have to admit, she makes good food. Great food actually, Mrs. Malfoy has never been adept in the kitchen department, nor has anyone she’s hired either.” (Y/n) told them, licking the sides of the bowl as she finished her soup. “And as enjoyable as this has been today, I do have a serious question to pose.”

“What question?” Remus asked, stiffening in his seat. Sirius’s eyes seemed to darken as he looked at her as if he was ready to pounce if needed.

“Well, if I’m not to be tortured or forced to divulge any information, what do you expect to do with me then?” setting down the bowl she met their eyes. “You can’t possibly keep me in here forever, but you also can’t just let me out of here either. Which leaves very little option other than killing me or me somehow escaping and taking as many of you with me as I can.”

The men look both shocked and hurt, perhaps a dash of anger in Sirius’s eyes. Neither of them says a thing as they stand up and walk towards the door. (Y/n) smiles at them, pushing their now empty plate and bowl towards them.

“It’s only a matter of time as to which happens first. Personally, I’ve accepted dying in here. No resources will be wasted on a rescue for me, nor will there be anyone to mourn me. I suggest you make the decision soon before I find a way to slaughter the lot of you in your sleep.” she threatens, meeting Remus’s gaze. “Because you were right, Dumbledore does have plenty of security in his quarters, much more so than the barrier spells that get weaker day by day in here.”

~~{𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘸𝘰}~~

[breakthrough88]

Overthinking Lorelai's Epithet

This will contain spoilers for Prison of Plastic Lorelai's epithet lets her do essentially anything she wants but there are still some rules to it that I want to go over. When and where Lorelai can use her powers First things first, something that a lot of people tend to gloss over is Lorelai DOESN'T NEED her dream bubbles to use her epithet. She turned Giovanni into a gargoyle and grabbed Naven with plants before she made her mega-dream bubble. Lorelai's dream bubbles are just pocket dimensions for her to use her epithet in. You could technically play soccer inside your house but you go to a soccer field so you have more space and you won't break your mom's expensive vase. Same concept with Lorelai's dream bubbles. At the end of the book, Lorelai makes her hand glow to look at Giovanni's baseball. Plus Molly brings up Lorelai used to use her epithet more outside of the dream bubbles.

How people get affected by Lorelai's Epithet

Unless it's done for showmanship like Lorelai's rhyming, it seems that the target of her spells has to be touched with something physical. Each time she does something to another character it's generally in the form of a magical projectile except when she gives Giovanni the gargoyle potion. We haven't seen Lorelai go "You're a toad now" and then someone turns into a toad without any sort of action. However, we will have to wait for the series to go on before we can figure that out. It can be assumed Lorelai can also touch someone to affect them but because she isn't exactly a close-quarters combatant we likely won't see anything like that. We also know she can set terms for her spells such as when Rick, Trixie, and Feenie go in and out of the bubble they still transform into their mini forms. When dealing with her own creations Lorelai can morph them as she pleases when she makes Spelling Bee disappear with a snap. It is possible she can affect real people with just a snap but we haven't seen her do it, so for now we'll just assume that only works in regards to her summons. Lorelai's Body Sort of going off how people are affected by her epithet. Lorelai can alter her body as she pleases without any effort such as when she gave herself fangs, went rubber hose, and REMOVED HER HEART. This might also be an explanation as to how part of Lorelai's hair is blonde but my personal headcanon is that Martin's genetics are so freaking weird it gave Lorelai two natural hair colors. I mean Molly has stars in her hair, I think it wouldn't be too far-fetched for Lorelai to have naturally multi-colored hair. I know people who are also fans of One Piece compare Lorelai to Uta in terms of powerset but I just want to bring up that Lori can also make herself stretchy and rubbery like Luffy... just food for thought. Exiting the Bubble

When people exit Lorelai's bubble, not including when Molly uses her epithet to do it, it seems to be a chaotic affair with people sent tumbling outside. Even when Lorelai fully exits her own bubble she does a somersault. Some would say she's doing this on purpose but at the end of the book when the bubble is destroyed, everyone except Naven and Lorelai herself is put in a random position, even when it's not on purpose exiting her bubble isn't exactly a calm affair. This leads to my next topic. Lorelai's Control and Imagination

Lorelai claims she had much better control over her epithet when she was younger. I think it may be a matter of as she grew stronger, the more thought she needs put into her work. Not in terms of creativity, but in terms of setting boundaries within her own magic. I'm no gardener but here's the analogy I came up with. Say you are planting flowers. If you don't put them in a flower box or some sort of way to keep them in their own little area they can grow into places that you don't want. Lorelai is planting her flowers but isn't doing anything to stop them from getting into unwanted places. Lorelai makes her bubbles but she doesn't put in the effort to make sure they stay a certain size. When she makes her worlds she thinks about what she wants in them but isn't making sure they end on her terms. This applies to what Jello said on a stream about how Lorelai could make nutritious food but only if she concentrates during the entire digestion process This kinda plays into how Lorelai's imagination is required for her powers to work. Despite the fact she said newt when she transformed Rick, he became a chameleon because that's the image she created in her head. Plus it explains the ogre being just a little guy since Lori was put on the spot when she made him. Her emotions also affect her control given all the times she gets flustered when talking to Giovanni and I'd bet her having her traumatic breakdown was a key part of how the bubble was destroyed at the end of the book. I would also like to hope her "Heartless Spell" was more from being unable to control her emotions rather than intending to physically remove Molly's heart. Maybe the intent was to brainwash Molly into doing stuff? Still not great but better than murder. I'm a Lorelai fan, I recognize she's done awful stuff but she's not the worst person in the series. But I digress. Everything is Temporary This we don't know nearly as much about and the only time this has been brought up is by Martin Blyndeff of all people. Martin says everything Lorelai makes eventually fades away which he claims is why the family isn't rich. We don't know if Lorelai's stamina goes down each time she makes something or if it's a constant drain the more spells she keeps up. I think it's likely the former and everything Lorelai does just naturally has some sort of time limit before it fades into nothingness. However, we don't know what this time limit is.

[gingerylangylang1979]

Reddit and Twitter need this most but I won’t, because reasons

I have said before I don’t think ALL the Camry and Sydney hate is racially motivated but PLENTY of it is. It’s Richonne 2.0. This isn’t new to me.

There is the outright racist coded comments like claiming Sydney has to be a lesbian, has to be asexual, looks like Kendrick Lamar (yes, it was said), along with the inability to ever empathize with her character.

But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about unconscious bias with people who don’t get that they feel the way they do because Sydney is black. So anyone reading this may want to take a moment and honestly examine what I’m saying.

Unconscious bias is, for example, the thing that leads doctors, sometimes even black ones, to presume that black people don’t feel pain in the same way whites do. It’s not necessarily malicious intentional action or obvious hatred towards us. It’s subtle perceptions that change how one views the nature and capabilities of black people while still being able to be friends with them, respect certain qualities about them, and maybe even at times be allies. But there is always something different in perception that is so invisible that you aren’t aware of it.

I've seen it in white people, strangers and acquaintances, making assumptions about what I’m into or should be, what my education and earnings are, and who I should be friends and lovers with. It’s the thinking we can always handle anything and not be burdened. It’s what is happening a lot with Sydney, especially with Carmy.

People are allowed to not like the ship. They don’t have to. I’m not going to assume everyone who doesn’t is racist. But for anyone who doesn’t I think it would be beneficial to examine a few things.

Viewing the first scene between them, how would you interpret Carmy’s taken aback, entranced, nervous reaction to seeing her? To me it obviously says attraction and surprise. If there is another explanation I’ve never heard it. People just gloss over that interaction and I think it’s a tell. It shows that people may not be able to see him showing signs of attraction to her because she doesn’t look like who you would expect him to be attracted to.

2. How would you explain the way Carmy is constantly looking at Sydney closely like he doesn’t look at anyone else? When we see her from his perspective she if glowy or hazy or out of focus. We don’t see that with any other characters he interacts with aside from that finale flashback with Mikey. He doesn’t look at Sugar like that. Syd is the only one who gets special framing. If you’ve never noticed, why?

3. If you think Syd could be a lesbian or asexual, why her and not for instance Tina, or others on the crew? Sex isn’t referenced a lot so why is it not being referenced with her any different than it not being referenced with others? Often people assume a woman who dresses tomboyish is just that. Why can’t that just be her style? I have plenty of women friends that are straight and sexual with a similar style.

4. Could you imagine the scenes with Syd and Carmy if a man was in Sydney’s place? What would you think of the vibe?

5. Could you see Ayo in the Claire role?

6. Could you see Jeremy and Ayo playing love interests in a totally different show?

7. If Molly Gordon plays Syd could you better picture her with Carmy?

8. When you see a dark skinned black woman in a couple with a white man IRL does it make you especially take notice or feel it’s a bit off?

9. Does the thought of Sydney and Carmy kissing or being intimate make you have an extreme reaction like eeew or gross? Maybe not so extreme does it make you feel awkward to think about it?

10. Do you often compare their relationship to siblings?

11. Can you recognize the Syd isn’t into Marcus romantically and has other options?

12. Can you only envision Sydney alone and not needing romance because her career is all she needs?

13. Do you think maybe Carmy could find her attractive if she looked more glamorous?

14. Could you more easily see Carmy into Syd if she was played by Zendaya or someone that looks similar?

15. Have you never seen a couple that looks like Syd and Carmy?

16. if you saw the Emmy magazine photo shoot did you not perceive the touchy pose with Ayo and Jeremy as sexually suggestive and think it’s an impossibility?

17. How do you think Clairs would react if she saw all of their interactions?

18. Is it easy to view Sydney as having complex motivations and emotions at the same time? Can you possibly see that she’s jealous of Claire because she distracted Carmy from business AND because she has feelings for Carmy? Is it possible to think she can view Carmy as a boss, mentor, and someone she is attracted too and that’s hard to process?

All of these things may not apply to your perception but if any do realize these are very common examples of how unconscious bias plays out when thinking of black women, especially in storytelling. This is a lot of what has historically been seen with similar ships and IRL mixed couples. That’s not to discount the numerous white man, white woman ships that people don’t like, but these things are consistently present with black women and white men presented in the media and celebrity couples. There is always more scrutiny with these pairings.

You may not have a context to understand that. You may have never been questioned in this way. You may be angered to think it’s possible this is a role in how you are viewing things, but it’s the truth based on lived experience and observation. It’s worth examining.

I’m not here to be hostile, I’m just trying to voice in a gentle way what so many here already know and you may not be aware of or ready to think about.

I’m not going to argue with anybody about it but any intelligent, respectful dialogue is welcome and encouraged.

[guarionexjr]

Jean Deaux Press Shots

Make Up by Mollie Gloss

Photography by Guarionex Rodriguez Jr

[fictionadventurer]

American Girl Rankings As A Kid:

Josefina: She was Catholic and spoke Spanish, which made her the coolest, even though my library didn't have the whole series.

Kirsten: I was a Little House on the Prairie kid. I had to love the pioneer girl.

Samantha: Her story was great, her supporting cast was amazing, and she was pretty.

Addy: Amazing stories, but sad.

Molly: I loved the birthday ones, the more modern elements were fun, but maybe a bit too modern and the stories felt a bit lacking

Felicity: I just couldn't get into her stories. Maybe her time period was too early for my tastes.

American Girl Rankings As An Adult

Kit: She's a writer who lives in this amazing attic bedroom and her family runs a boarding house and she's got an amazing side cast of characters, and her deal-hunting aunt is a literary masterpiece. If my school library had had this series as a kid, she would have been one of my faves.

Samantha: As an adult, I've got an even better appreciation for how solid her stories are.

Josefina: I'm not too impressed with the thinness of the storyline about grief, but the religion is handled with surprising respect, and the cultural details are interesting. Also, I appreciate that the quiet girl gets some appreciation.

Addy: I've got a better appreciation for the stories, and I'm better able to handle the sad elements

Melody: Her stories have surprisingly solid writing and characters, though I can't say I'm a fan of the two-novel series structure compared to the six short stories, and some of the attitudes in the second book feel anachronistic and preachy.

Cecile and Marie-Grace: The setting is AMAZING and Cecile is one of the most fascinating characters in the franchise and for that, it would be at least one more spot up the list. Marie-Grace is nowhere near as strong as a character, though, and the structure works against the story. I feel like with a good rewrite, this could be a lot better, but for now, the story's a bit lacking. Also, there's some good Catholic representation alongside some whopping mistakes.

Kirsten: The stories I've reread as an adult seem much thinner than I remember

Molly: I can appreciate her story better, but not enough to move her up the list.

Felicity: Ditto. Also, as a kid I never got far enough into the series to learn that her grandfather was a slaveowner. On the one hand, kudos to committing to historical accuracy, but on the other hand, if you aren't going to dig into the issue, this is something it would have been better to gloss over.

[pawthorn]

I’m still trying catch up on last week’s episode, but I want to talk about Taliesin’s invisible character traits and Matt’s ability to reveal them.

Of all the CR cast, Taliesin’s characters are least likely to “let me tell you my backstory.” They are reticent until it’s necessary.

Vox Machina had been going for years before Percy revealed that his family had been killed. Molly only admitted his amnesia after faced with questions about Cree. Caduceus didn’t spill about lilies and dreams till the last few episodes of the campaign.

On top of this, Taliesin often gives his characters invisible character traits. Things you wouldn’t know for sure unless that character verbally confirmed it. And Taliesin, of all the cast, is least likely to offer that information up unless it’s relevant. Even on 4-Sided Dive, he keeps his characters’ inner workings under-wraps. So how do we ever learn it?

Matt Mercer.

I’ve talked about this a bit with Caduceus before, but Matt really made an effort to give Taliesin a chance to communicate that Caduceus is aro/ace. The demeanor of multiple NPCs shifts with Caduceus. You can see Matt feeling out whether this character would flirt with Cad, how far that would go, if the time was right. (This is why the Eadwulf/Caduceus ship blossomed so suddenly in C2. There was pretty obvious interest on Eadwulf’s side, just not the right timing to facilitate Cad turning him down.) Finally, the meat-lady was bold and opportunistic enough to go for it, and Tal was able to naturally RP Cad’s disinterest. Plenty of people had speculated that Cad was aro/ace, but that moment let it be spoken and understood in-universe.

Ashton’s chronic pain is even trickier to bring to light. It’s been speculated, of course, but how could it come out naturally? Matt has made it a point to have multiple NPCs who were strangers touch or try to touch Ashton, which is always rebuffed. So that let us know that Ashton is touch-averse with people they don’t trust. But that wouldn’t necessarily relate to chronic pain (the touch aversion might well pre-date the pain.) So this time when Imogen and FCG pushed into Ashton’s mind, Matt let FCG inhabit Ashton’s body. And that fantastic choice allowed this invisible trait to be known.

Watching a DM show that level of attention and care with a character, always makes me so happy. There’s so many things to do as DM, so many plates to spin, it can be easy to gloss over or miss opportunities if players don’t initiate them. Matt is great at bringing secrets to light, helping players reveal the core of their characters.

I just wanted to take a second to appreciate that.

[saintsenara]

i know u are on record as a jegulus hater HOWEVER. u are also on record as a you can write your way into anything girlie. u can see where i’m going with this i’m sure but purely out of curiosity, if you were held at gunpoint and told to write jegulus, how would u make it interesting? how would they work?

it is true, anon - i am on the record as someone who is very much not a jegulus fan.

but the reason for this is entirely due to the way that regulus gets turned into something completely toothless within the pairing - the usual writing of which tends to gloss over the fact that he fucking loves filling his terrorism pinterest board with pictures of lord voldemort covered in human blood.

for me to find jegulus compelling, then, the premise of the story would have to engage with the fact that regulus doesn't become a death eater by mistake.

but i certainly don't think this makes the pairing impossible to write...

while i don't think james [or sirius, for that matter] are ever going to find themselves in a position where they agree with voldemort, especially when it comes to blood-supremacy, it's also going to be the case that - as purebloods [and, especially, as pureblood men] - they're going to have certain blind spots in how they relate to the world.

we see this in canon, for example, in ron's attitudes towards house elves, or in molly weasley's instinctive disdain towards muggle technology, or in the condescending way cornelius fudge talks to the muggle prime minister, or in the fact that dumbledore owns dozens of slaves.

the series' politics is striking in how unradical it is - the order of the phoenix is working towards the maintenance [with only a few minor changes] of the status quo of a society with an extraordinarily entrenched class-system, and the conventions which come with it.

james - since he serves the purpose, within the narrative, of a symbol of what the good guys are fighting to defend - must be similarly unradical in his politics.

which means, i think, that if regulus is written as even a little bit sophisticated, then james can be written as wilfully ignoring all of his red flags. we know from canon, for example, that james loathes the word "mudblood"... but we don't know that he's similarly outraged by more polite, more insidious prejudice. if regulus has the sense to couch his bigotry in the language the two share by virtue of their class backgrounds, then i think it becomes inherently possible to imagine jegulus as a plausible couple.

i would be most interested, then, in a sort of "death by a thousand cuts" premise to a jegulus fic - something which grows darker and darker as james is forced with increasing regularity to look the other way about what regulus' "i'm just asking questions!" spiel is actually masking...

which then goes very badly wrong when he realises he can't ignore the truth anymore.

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

Reporters tantalized their readers with stories about the “plutocratic Osage” and the “red millionaires,” with their brick-and-terra-cotta mansions and chandeliers, with their diamond rings and fur coats and chauffeured cars. One writer marveled at Osage girls who attended the best boarding schools and wore sumptuous French clothing, as if “une très jolie demoiselle of the Paris boulevards had inadvertently strayed into this little reservation town.”

Many of the Osage would rush to see a gusher when it erupted, scrambling for the best view, making sure not to cause a spark, their eyes following the oil as it shot fifty, sixty, sometimes a hundred feet in the air. With its great black wings of spray, arcing above the rigging, it rose before them like an angel of death. The spray coated the fields and the flowers and smeared the faces of the workers and the spectators. Still, people hugged and tossed their hats in celebration. Bigheart, who had died not long after the imposition of allotment, was hailed as the “Osage Moses.” And the dark, slimy, smelly mineral substance seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world.

A short, stout man, with a luxuriant mustache and a shock of red hair, Burns had once aspired to be an actor, and he cultivated a mystique, in part by writing pulp detective stories about his cases. In one such book, he declared, “My name is William J. Burns, and my address is New York, London, Paris, Montreal, Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, New Orleans, Boston, Philadelphia, Cleveland, and wherever else a law-abiding citizen may find need of men who know how to go quietly about throwing out of ambush a hidden assassin or drawing from cover criminals who prey upon those who walk straight.”

Meanwhile, Ernest’s aunt was muttering, loud enough for all to hear, about how mortified she was that her nephew had married a redskin. It was easy for Mollie to subtly strike back because one of the servants attending to the aunt was white—a blunt reminder of the town’s social order.

Hoover demanded that his staff wear dark suits and sober neckties and black shoes polished to a gloss. He wanted his agents to be a specific American type: Caucasian, lawyerly, professional. Every day, he seemed to issue a new directive—a new Thou Shall Not—and White put on his big cowboy hat with an air of defiance.

Blackie, evidently enjoying himself, looked squarely at Burkhart and said, “Ernest, I have told them everything.”

The judge advised the jury members that they must set aside sympathies or prejudices for either side. He warned, “There never has been a country on this earth that has fallen except when that point was reached…where the citizens would say, ‘We cannot get justice in our courts.’ ”

In 1932, the bureau began working with the radio program The Lucky Strike Hour to dramatize its cases. One of the first episodes was based on the murders of the Osage...The broadcasted radio program concluded, “So another story ends and the moral is identical with that set forth in all the others of this series….[The criminal] was no match for the Federal Agent of Washington in a battle of wits.”

The historian Burns once wrote, “To believe that the Osages survived intact from their ordeal is a delusion of the mind. What has been possible to salvage has been saved and is dearer to our hearts because it survived. What is gone is treasured because it was what we once were. We gather our past and present into the depths of our being and face tomorrow. We are still Osage. We live and we reach old age for our forefathers.”

Killers of the Flower Moon, dir. Martin Scorsese // Killers of the Flower Moon by David Grann (3/3)