âMy mother shouldâve done something, My mother shouldâve done something, My mother should haveââ
â am kennedy, âWhy does it still feel like itâs my fault?â (via siilentiary)
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tilden.
Tilden loved a party almost as much as he loved a quidditch game. He stood by the bar observing the crowd like a hawk. Maybe in a few drinks there he would be in the middle of the crowd with everyone else, but he wasnât quite loose yet, and besides he had work to do.Â
A sports reporter is only a stoneâs through from a gossip columnist and the party event of the season was bound to stir the pot. If he was lucky he might just run into someone who might give him the scoop on a distracted player or incompetent coach. If he was lucky he wouldnât have to talk to any fans disappointed by his politics.
Spotting an intriguing target, he swallowed the last of his firewiskey and went in for the approach. He danced to the music trying to seem casual.
âGreat concert! Nice to see the community coming together.â
â˝
There were few places Emma felt truly at ease - save for the manor, the pitch was the only other true happy place she had. Something about soaring through the air was infinitely more relaxing than life on the ground proved to be. Emma was the best at what she did, and she knew it - and it kept her busy. Far be it from the Harpies to ever cancel practice, even if it had been pulled to a staggering halt in the wake of everything that had been happening.Â
Honestly, the off season was driving her mad. Less to do, more reason to go home to an empty house. It was all a bit much.Â
Still, the Hobgoblins were great performers. There was something to be said for taking to the stage for something like this, something that needed it. Sure, there was a publicity factor to it (as with all things), but even without the good press of being seen supporting a charity, Emma would have gone. Anything to get her out of the manor and the tense silence that had been following since Fenrir returned so suddenly, without a word. At least if she was in public, Emma could put on her mask, hide from her best hidden secret and pretend things were happy for a night.
And, well, something about being in a crowd was invigorating even if she wasnât in the air as the star of the show.
Gwenog had disappeared on her ten minutes ago, under the guise of getting them fresh drinks - though knowing her teammate, sheâd be distracted far before returning - leaving Emma to the music on her own. A polite smile flickered across her face as she heard a voice beside her, nodding in agreement as she glanced over. âItâs really something, isnât it?â A nice distraction from reality, if only for a few hours. âI do hope theyâre getting the money they need, although with the turnout I doubt thatâs going to be an issue.â
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maya.
âI love this band!â Her voice ringing out over the sounds of instruments and songs (thought just barely), Maya once again pushed back her now-drenched hair, never being properly prepared with anything to tie it back. Not that it bothered her all too much; it was something to push around, to flip, to play with; and even if it annoyed others around her, she never gave a single damn. Especially once a few drinks were in her system, which of course was the case tonight. It was practically mandatory, if you asked her â you didnât attend a concert sober.
Unless you enjoyed being miserable, and she just never considered herself to be that type of person.
With colour-changing drops in her drink and a glow-in-the-dark necklace hung loosely around her neck, Maya could have been surrounded by absolute strangers and not had a single semblance of caring. This⌠this was her element. Yet she got carried away, as she so often did, attempting to make her way through the crowd for a re-fill.
Why didnât they just refill themselves? Had they not yet come that far?
Stumbling around, a foot that was just slightly stuck out managed to end up right in front of her, sending her falling forward â and the cup went flying. A sound of panic immediately left her mouth, forgetting that the damn thing was empty, and she ever-so-gracefully grabbed onto the nearest person, pulling them down to the ground with them. âOw â oh, my bad â sorry about that!â
â˝
A charity concert - for orphans of all things - had been more than enough reason for Emma to get out of the house. Not that she needed much of one, really, given how often she thrived on being surrounded by people. But with Quidditch put on pause for the winter and everyone going home to their families while she sat alone in an empty manor, waiting for Fenrir to return, refusing to answer the letters from her mother - well, any excuse to go out was desperately welcomed. Emma missed going out, and surrounding herself in a crowd, feeling eyes on her, enjoying herself. The last thing she was, was well equipped for long stretches of complete solitude.Â
Honestly, winter had felt unending purely for that. To say nothing of the worry something had happened to pull her father away - but that was another issue entirely.
Admittedly, any charity likely would have gotten her out, but there was a strange sort of kinship to be held for this in particular. The Vanitys were still alive (and so far as anyone knew, her doting parents), and Greyback had never treated her as less than a daughter. But she had still known the feeling of being abandoned. Whatever the reason, a concert gave her a chance to truly lose herself, to rid the worry and the aching silence of that house and return to her life. One where the Harpies had all found each other in the crowd and danced until they needed a break, where Emma found fans to talk to in brief moments of quiet. She felt - well, she felt more like herself than she had in ages. Far be it from her to question or deny herself that.
She was debating the need for another ride on a cloud, winding her way through dancing bodies towards tents in the back - for a drink, for a breather - and then an impact came. A slur of curses ran through Emmaâs mind as she stumbled to the ground. âOh, seven hells.â She let out a sigh, recognizing the other victim of the fall a moment later - Maya. Likely the only person, save for Lucinda, she wouldnât mind being taken down for. âEverything seems to be in one piece,â Emma shrugged, letting out an easy laugh to show she wasnât upset as she pushed herself off the ground, a hand stretched out to help Maya. âAre you alright? I was just headed back towards the vendors, can I get you anything?â
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lucinda.
Upon seeing the announcement of The Hobgoblins performing, Lucinda screamed out YES! despite being alone. Then she saw they were performing for a charity. Orchideous Orphanage.Orphanage. Although Lucinda grew up in a loving, supportive adoptive muggle home as a pureblood witch, the word still had a profound and painful meaning in her mind. She had always been careful to not let too many know of her lineage because she didnât want a target on her familyâs back. The Talkalots, that is.
While thinking of young children not having had the experience she was lucky enough to be given broke her heart, her little bit of money could go nowhere better. She dressed herself to the nines, fixed her fiery red hair and plastered a genuine smile on her face as she saw the enormous turn out. Lucinda couldnât help but stand in awe, eyes cascading around the room with memories of her sisters and parents. Without recognizing it, she was also spinning the ring given by her biological mother, Aisling Quinn.Â
Something about the scene made Lucinda feel like she was floating on a cloud, but decided she should make that ride a reality. She ran over to the queue and wiggled in. âLooks like you need someone to share a cloud with,â she said in her coy and quirky way.
Fenrir had returned in a blaze of glory, the weekend after the full moon, looking tough and jaded but no worse for wear, far as Emma could see. She had yet to gain any explanation as to where the hell he had been for so long, but she hoped it was only a matter of time. For the first time in weeks, being home hadnât left her feeling...empty. It wasnât that she ever had difficult being alone, but the loneliness and feeling of being left behind was another story entirely. Things were finally beginning to feel almost normal again, home no longer just an empty reminder of the war happening outside its walls.
The announcement of the concert had come early, and by noon Emma had already decided sheâd be in attendance. A pretty donation in her name for publicity, of course, but more than that - whether she allowed herself to think about it or not, orphans caused a pang in her chest like very little else. The Vanitys were still alive, their shame and selfishness well hidden under the money and agreements with Greyback, but they had left her all the same. She had been lucky to have found another family, that the werewolf who took her hadnât killed her the way Charles Vanity clearly expected him to. Any child living in an orphanage wasnât half so lucky - would no doubt have more difficult making off with the success or security Emma had always known. Of course she had to go, and if it meant seeing the Hobgoblins and being seen in public, it was an added bonus. Of course, with her fatherâs return, her plans had altered to include his presence; unseen, but always there, if anything went amiss. Perhaps it was overkill, overbearing, but it had always served to make her feel better. He had returned right in time.
Emma had thrived on the opportunity to dress up, yet another thing she had missed, her eyes wide and smile genuine as she made herself one with the crowds. There was something indescribable about seeing the turnout that made her happy, a drink with glowing bubbles in her hand as she waited in line for a cloud. It wouldnât be the same as flying, but who was she to deny herself any chance in the air? Her eyes moved at the feeling of someone appearing beside her, wide from surprise that quickly lit up her expression. âI suppose it would go against the oath of our friendship to disagree.â She laughed in agreement. âAnd really, who would I be to do that?â
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@xburke
Pitch Perfect 3 (2017) â Beca & Chloe
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regulus.
As Emma turned to face him, it felt as if everything else in the room disappeared. She always seemed to have that effect on him, and right now he was extremely thankful for that. He wished it was just the two of them, talking to Emma was so easy, he wanted to tell her everything that was going on, but there were too many people around for him to open up. Maybe next time. Grinning wide at her as she took the glass out of his hand, Regulus looked her up and down before shaking his head, âNot as pretty as you, though.â The words fell from him before he could stop them, but they were true. She was always pretty, however she looked absolutely breathtaking tonight.
Shoving his free hand into his pocket, he shrugged his shoulders slightly as he took a drink. He picked up a random one for himself too, and it was actually rather tasty, kind of fruity and citrusy. Not something he would usually choose for himself, but it would do just fine. âIf Iâm being honest, not really.â Regulus replied, even if the smile on his lips said otherwise. âBut, Iâve found you, so things seem to be looking up.â Nodding his head in the direction he came from as an indication to follow him, he took a few steps away from the crowd of people around the table they were standing near. There were too many people surrounding the tables, if he was really going to avoid bumping into his brother it would be better to stay as far away as possible, plus it would be nice to have Emma to himself for awhile. âWhat about you? Have you played any games?â
Emma visibly brightened at the compliment, her eyes lighting up. It couldnât be helped, really; she thrived from any sort of praise, and always had. Perhaps that made her selfish, to love listening to others remind her of things she already knew. Perhaps instead it was just the result of her upbringing, always showered with reminders she was the best, and admittedly she had been a bit starved of it with the absence of Fenrir. Still, Emma always felt different when they came from Regulus. As if she could always tell he really meant them. âThank you.â She laughed, taking another sip of the bright drink in hand while she let her eyes roam over him. âI have to say, you donât look half bad yourself.â
She took another sip, trying to place the taste - whatever it was, Emma was almost positive it was Maya that chose it. Whatever it was, it was strong. Hard not to feel the kick, but all the same. It was a party, after all. Glancing over her shoulder, Emma placed a hand on her friendâs shoulder to say goodbye before turning to follow Regulus away from the crowd surrounding them. For as much as Emma had found herself enjoying the very act of being around people again - it was a good cause - she still felt better around someone she actually liked. Her team was fine enough, but save for Lucinda, Regulus continued to be one of the few people it was easy to be around, less of an act to put on. âNot yet.â She admitted with a small shrug, readjusting her fingers around the glass as she pushed a curl behind her ear. âI was over there mostly because of Gwenog, she seems to be a master at blackjack.â Emma let out another laugh, tilting her head. âYou said youâre not having fun - we should change that. What do you want to do?âÂ
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countless gifs of veronica lodge 5/â
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regulus.
Something like this should have been right up his alley, but he was absolutely miserable. With endless money to spend, he should have been out on the floor gambling it away, but instead he was pressed against a wall watching everyone else have fun. He considered not coming at all, but he knew better than not to make an appearance. It was a birthday party for Maya and Gianna, after all, he knew both of them and he was positive he wouldnât be forgiven if he didnât at least show his face. He just didnât want to end up bumping into his brother. The thing that really pushed him into coming, though, was knowing Celestina Warbeck would be preforming. Her music was a guilty pleasure for him - his mother would always have one of her records playing in the house, and though he would complain about it when he was younger he had grown a fondness to the music.
Spotting a familiar face across the room, a grin quickly spread across his lips. Emma was quite possibly the only person that could put him in a good mood right now and he was glad to see her, even at a distance. Pushing away from the wall, he placed his empty glass down on a tray being held by a waiter and picked up two refills, unsure if he was even allowed to do that, but he wasnât about to walk up to Emma empty handed. Making his way through the crowd, he stopped when he reached her, holding out the pink drink he had picked up. âYou have no idea how happy I am to see you,â He laughed, âI brought this for you, though I will admit I have no idea what it is.â
@vcnitysxâ
Under normal circumstances, a party like this would be a chance for Emma to thrive. Losing herself in a crowd, surrounded by people who stared and made conversation, finding ways to entertain herself came as a second nature. It was almost as natural to her as flying. If there was one thing Emma knew how to do, it was to play her role. But it had gotten more difficult through the holidays, her first Christmas alone, without even the Harpies to offer a distraction. She had never done well by herself - never had to, never been made to learn - and it had taken a toll. Everything had been placed on a tilt, no longer operating the way that it needed to. Her father had yet to return, months later than promised. The worry gnawed away at her, worse than before. It had been perfect timing, no matter how coincidental, Mayaâs birthday arriving when it did. Celebrating a friend was a brilliant enough reason to get out into the world, and as Emma stepped into the pub and the public eye, it was like slipping back into familiar skin. All the sleepless nights and feelings of isolation were forced behind the wall she held up almost instantly. Well, she figured. At least some things didnât change.Â
Emma wasnât much of a gambler, but by a stroke of luck she had found a teammate near one of the tables and invited herself to watch. Perhaps it wouldnât do much good, but it was better than nothing, and being surrounded by people felt more comfortable than anything else seemed to these days. Hearing a familiar voice, Emma turned away from the game, eyes brightening almost instantly. It couldnât be helped. âWell, hello to you too.â She laughed along with him, taking the drink from his outstretched hand with a smile, âthank you. It sure is pretty, whatever it is. Are you enjoying yourself?âÂ
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