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lovetorn · 3 years

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dream’s birthday bash [roommate!dream au]

Roommate!Dream x Reader

summary: it’s dream’s birthdayyyy!!!

warnings: alcohol, swearing

w/c: 2.9k+

a/n: happy birthday dream!! i’m in love w this. i hope u are too. also, there is a few references to past roommate!dream blurbs & one-shots, so i recommend reading those before you start this one or you may be a little confused at some things the characters say. thanks!! <3

roommate!dream masterlist

—

Dream’s birthday is something you haven't experienced yet since you moved in together in September last year.

Dream had promised the football team that his birthday party was going to be the biggest of the year, so you, being the party planner, had vowed to make it the best because Dream can’t organise—he disagreed and said that he only made you the party planner because he knows you’re good at it?? You gave him a confused look; you’ve never planned a party before.

Anyway, the 12th was approaching quicker than you anticipated and the only things you’d organised so far is the alcohol (thanks to George) and decorations. You had little notes on your phone with multiple checklists and you had yet to tick every last box off.

Organising food was probably the hardest thing. You knew that there were going to be around 100+ people squeezing into your apartment, drinking, so food is essential. You asked Dream what types of food he wanted, his reply?

“Chicken wings, not spicy.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth and nodded. Great. “Anything else? There’s gonna be a lot of people, Dream.”

He brought his fingers to rest on his lips as he thought about it. You knew when he got an idea because then he clicked his fingers and pointed at you. “Sandwiches. You know, like the little ones?”

Squinting at him, you sighed. “You think that’s going to be enough for more than 100 people?”

Dream nods. “Easy.”

You shake your head in disbelief and add sandwiches, along with other finger foods, to the list. “Thanks.”

Next to organise was Dream’s present. You spent days racking your brain, trying to figure out what he would want, eventually coming up with nothing.

So, you asked Sapnap, who was no help. “Fuck if I know, the man buys anything he wants himself these days.”

You rolled your eyes and took a trip to Target. Whilst there, you decided on an excess of small gag gifts: a Ron Swanson dishwasher magnet (so you and Dream can stop arguing over who put dirty dishes in with the clean ones), an engraved bottle opener, a ‘do not disturb sign for his bedroom door (chosen based on one too many run-ins), a Minecraft ice cube tray, a toothbrush holder (so both of your toothbrushes stop touching in the cup), and a pack of Minecraft socks.

You put the small presents into a gift bag, covering them with tissue paper, and then put in the final piece that wasn’t a joke gift—a mixtape of your and Dream’s favourite songs for his car. You brushed your thumb over the plastic case and let out a breathy laugh at the photo on the front—a selfie of the two of you in Dream's car, energy drinks in your hands and toothy grins with the text, ‘Dream & Y/n’s Gr8est Hits’ written in bright pink marker. You're excited to give it to him, but you're nervous and embarrassed, too—is it lame?

You shook your head and placed the bag in your closet.

George delivered the alcohol earlier in the day: 18 cases of beer and the same in White Claw, and a few bottles of vodka and rum for the close friends. You couldn't thank him enough for helping you, even more so after he helped put the covered trays of food in the refrigerator from the delivery truck downstairs.

You had (reluctantly) asked Sapnap to organise music because you had no time in between making sure the food order was correct and getting yourself ready. He agreed immediately and waved off your hesitance and told you he'd make the best playlist to ever exist—you put too much trust in him.

Before the party, you and Dream had taken a few shots together, just to get you to stop stressing over the planning of the party and Dream to stop worrying for you.

"Ready?" Dream smirked, his shot glass hanging loosely from his fingers. You nodded and then, at the same time, tapped the glass on the counter before you threw the shot back. The acetone taste of the vodka slid down your throats and you made disgusted faces at each other before a knock at the door indicated that your first guests were here.

Now, the party is in full swing and it's safe to say, there is definitely enough food.

When you see Sapnap at the food table, aka the kitchen counter, he thanks you for ordering non-spicy wings. You shake your head, laugh, and hug him tightly. "I'm serious," He mumbles with chicken in his mouth. "These are so~ good!"

The living room is cramped, but nobody seems to be complaining. Almost everyone from the apartment block is in your flat right now, with a few from other complexes. You lost sight of Dream a few hours ago, choosing to stay with your own friends while he hangs with his as the two groups don't usually mingle together.

“Niki!” You laugh whilst the girl finishes her second shot and passes the bottle of rum back to you. Shaking your head, you bring the large bottle to your lips, already regretting mixing different alcohols. You’d already had a few White Claws, thanks to Sapnap who kept challenging you to shotguns at the start.

Karl comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before he snatches the bottle out of your hand and takes a swig.

“Karl!” Now, all three of you are laughing together. He slides his hand off of your stomach and stands to his full height, putting his lips to the White Claw can he holds in his other hand. You warn him about mixing alcohol, but he waves you off and assures you that he's fine.

The three of you stand on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of 'Super Freak' by Rick James. You grab Karl's hand to spin him around and then do the same to Niki, laughter filling the small space you have created in the middle of the crowd. You wouldn't admit it to Sapnap, but his playlist is actually good.

"Mi Amor!" The sound of Quackity's voice pulls you from your little group with Niki and Karl and you smile when you see his wide grin as he pushes past a few football players.

"Q! When did you get here? I didn't see you come in," You engulf him in a hug and giggle when he laughs loudly.

"I came in through the window," You pull back slightly to give him an incredulous look and shake your head. God, you are tipsy. "Nahhh, I had an exam, so I just got here."

You nod and feel the rum going straight to your head. Quackity then notices Karl and Niki behind you and gives them hugs too. You watch as your friends greet each other and turn to look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 10:33 pm.

“Guys, it's time for cake!” You shout over the music to Niki, Quackity and Karl and they smile and nod, all three of you migrating to the fridge to collect Dream’s cake and get it ready.

You pull a 3 layered vanilla cake out of the refrigerator. It is slathered in white icing and has rainbow sprinkles on the top with the words, ‘happy birthday dream’, in piped icing. Karl's mouth waters at the sight of the dessert and when he goes to get a dollop of icing from the side, you don’t smack his hand away—you have a plan.

Other guests see you preparing the candles and lighting them and turn off the lights for you. You smile at the 21 lit candles and pick up the cake, being careful not to trip on anything.

The entire room starts singing the ‘Happy Birthday’ anthem, their phones out to film as you spot Dream’s messy blonde hair over the crowd. He scrunches his face up in embarrassment and switches his beer from his right hand to his left to give you a side hug and a peck on the cheek when you approach him. The room sings and all attention is on him, but Dream only has eyes for you as you inch the cake closer so he can blow out his candles.

After he does so, the room erupts into cheers and then you give Dream a mischievous grin. There’s a little fear in his eyes and you launch the cake towards his face. Everybody laughs and hollers when you pull the cake stand away from him to see his face covered in white icing and rainbow sprinkles. Dream stands frozen for a moment, wiping his eyes with his free hand, before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, rubbing the icing in your hair and on your cheek.

“Dream!” You cackle, trying to push him off, but failing and eventually succumbing to his hold. The phone torches shine brightly at the two of you as people continue filming. His laughter is music to your ears.

Dream smiles down at you, eyes lazy and cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” He whispers. Your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies swarm your stomach as you nod. Everybody disperses and carries on with their previous antics, leaving you and Dream together.

“I got you a present, I’ll give it to you when everybody’s gone.”

The sentence makes the present seem more sensual than it actually is, and it makes Dream’s heart skip a beat—but he knows it’s not what he’s thinking. You pull away from Dream and wave back at him, knocking into a few people which elicits a laugh from him as he watches.

“Dude, you’re so fucked,” George says, smirking as he follows Dream’s gaze on you. Dream elbows George in the bicep.

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah bro, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else will,” Sapnap comments, coming up to stand on Dream’s other side. The urge to punch the both of them is strong, but instead, the blonde groans and skulls the rest of his beer as he loses sight of you in the crowd.

—

“Bye, guys! Thanks for coming!” Dream tries his best to look composed, but he’s so drunk. As soon as the door closes, he locks it and lets out a huge sigh. You come out of your room with the gift bag in your hands. Dream raises his eyebrows and attempts to give you a surprised look. “Wow, a present?”

You giggle and lead him to the couch. He flops down, throws his feet up and puts his hands behind his head. You sit next to him and shove the bag into his hands. “It’s not much, but you literally have everything already, so this is what I came up with.”

You hold your breath and you watch him pick through the bag. A smile breaks out on his face when he sees the CD. He flips it around to show you as if you haven’t seen it before and opens the case. “A mixtape? How romantic.”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is scolding and you stop yourself from choking. Dream, however, doesn’t look at you as he digs through and comments on every item. When he’s gone through every gift, he picks up the mixtape again and looks you dead in the eyes.

“This is the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever gotten for my birthday. Thank you, Y/n.”

You’re surprised. “The most thoughtful? It’s only a CD.”

Dream’s face contorts into one of confusion. “Only a CD? You made this for me with your own blood, sweat and tears.” You wouldn’t go that far.

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, I guess,” You laugh, reaching down to grasp his large hand. The action causes Dream to tilt his head and shift closer to you.

“Seriously, thank you. You mean so much to me,” He confesses, although you can barely hear it. You feel tears pricking your eyes as you watch him wipe his own. “Fuck, why am I getting emotional? It’s that fucking vodka, that’s why.”

“Don’t make up excuses, D,” You tease, squeezing his hand a few times. He wheezes lightly then sighs. His green eyes are so bright and there’s still a little smudge of icing on the side of his nose from the cake. You reach up and wipe it away, licking your thumb beforehand. Dream closes his eyes as you do so, biting his lip as you pull your hand away. 2:29 am.

“Okay, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” You mumble as you stand up, the moment broken. Dream nods, collecting his presents and chucking them all in the gift bag before he follows you to his room, a little disappointed.

Dream stands in the doorway and watches as you pull back his bed covers and turn on the lamp on his nightstand. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,” You push past him before you turn. “I’ll have Gatorade and Advil ready for you in the morning, okay?”

Dream gives you a loving smile and nods, still holding the bag in front of him as he stands in the middle of his room. “Goodnight, Y/n, thanks for everything.”

You close the door behind you and when you get back to your room, you kick yourself for not making a move. You peel your clothes off of your body and throw them in the corner of the room, the space becoming too hot for your liking—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that it's summer, or maybe it's your utter embarrassment and regret; you don't bother to choose which one.

You flop down on your bed, half-naked, and stare at the ceiling. Why didn't you make a move? It was the perfect opportunity—

Your thoughts are forgotten when there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. You scramble to put some pyjamas on as you call, 'just a second!', and then you're swinging your door open.

Dream stands there in his sweatpants only. You resist the urge to rake your eyes down his torso.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" The question surprises you—of fucking course it surprises you! The only reason he comes to your room at night is to vent; not like this.

"Uh, yeah," You reply, cracking the door open just a tad wider so he can slip through. Once he's inside, you sigh in confusion and close your door quietly. Dream is already sorting out the bed situation behind you, throwing your hundreds of throw pillows onto the floor and lifting up your duvet so he can slip under.

You tilt your head at him when he looks at you expectantly—you assume he's waiting for you to get in bed, which you do.

You rest your head on your pillow and turn your head to look at Dream, who is already staring at you. Your skin is hot and your heart is in your throat when you see how green his eyes are in the warm glow of your lamp.

"What's up?" You whisper although you didn't mean for it to come out so low. Dream's eyes trace your face; your eyes, eyebrows, nose, freckles, lips. "Dream?"

He's silent for a while and you guess it's because he's trying to figure out his drunken thoughts. "I just wanted to be with you, you know," He says, his voice breaking slightly. You suck in a breath, turning onto your side so you face him. "You planned my party all by yourself and I'm so happy you did."

You don't have the heart to tell him that George and Sapnap helped you, he looks so content. "I'm so glad, Dreamy," Your voice is velvety, and you can't help the warm feeling blooming in your chest. Dream's eyes travel from your own to your lips and stay there.

“C’mere," Dream mumbles. You barely nod before you lean closer to him.

You can tell Dream is figuring out what to do by the way his lips part and then close suddenly a few times, so, for the second time this week, you take things into your own hands.

You scoot closer to him, your breaths mixing in the small space between your lips and his nose bumping yours. You were so close. But not close enough.

"Dream, I'm gonna do something crazy, okay? Don't hate me," Here goes nothing.

"I could never hate you, baby," Dream murmurs, adjusting his head on his pillow. The pet name goes straight to your head and throwing out any and all rational thoughts, you lean in and place your lips softly on his.

It takes him a few seconds to react and in those moments, you fear you've made a huge mistake, but when his hands find your hips and pull you impossibly closer, you're glad you kissed him—are kissing him.

This is nothing like wine night a few weeks ago.

Your hands find the back of his head and tug on his hair lightly, earning a throaty groan. The sound makes you clench your fists and pull a little harder. You move your lips across his jaw and towards his ear. "Happy Birthday, birthday boy," You whisper.

Dream lets out a breathy laugh and hugs you closer. His face presses into your neck and you feel him leaving feather-light kisses on your skin. The feeling makes you giddy.

"I'm one lucky birthday boy, aren't I?" He mutters, pecking your neck firmer now. You giggle softly, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"You bet your ass you are."

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Just One Night

Day 12, Story #1 is by @rafa-rafaelx / @whenihaveyouromione

Title: Just One Night

Author: rafa-rafaelx/whenihaveyouromione (or FireTheCanon on ao3)

Pairing: Ron&Ginny (sibling platonic) and background Romione

Prompt: "I'm learning to love myself, it's the hardest thing I've ever done." (I used this as a theme more than actual dialogue)

Summary: A moment between Ron and Ginny at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

…........

For the briefest of moments, as her lips grazed his cheek when the song ended, he considered kissing her.

But the moment passed just as quickly as the question had come. She stepped away with flushed cheeks, but smiling.

"That was fun," she said breathlessly. "But I don't think I can dance anymore. My feet… they're so sore. Thanks, Ron."

"No problem," Ron replied, feeling the rush of his emotions begin to subside now that she was no longer touching him. "I'm a bit tired myself… er… do you want me to get some Butterbeers? Go find Harry and I'll bring some over."

Hermione beamed and nodded. "That would be great."

Before anymore could be said, she disappeared into the crowd.

For a moment, Ron stood amongst the dancing crowd and closed his eyes, relishing in the time they'd just spent together. It had been thrilling, exciting, and he dared not think about what could have happened had they continued to dance.

He touched the place where her lips had touched his cheek. The spot tingled, and it was a good feeling. And they'd been so close… so…

I should have done something, he thought admonishingly to himself as he went to where the drinks were being kept. It had been the perfect opportunity. He'd had her in his arms, they'd been dancing, with their bodies so close… there'd been something there, he hadn't imagined it.

He shook his head.

It was too late now. The moment had gone, she was gone…

He grabbed three Butterbeer bottles and was on his way to find Hermione and Harry when something stopped him. In the briefest of moments, his already fragile heart had crumbled before him. It shouldn't have, because they weren't actually doing anything, but…

Krum. She was talking to Krum and she was smiling. She looked so happy.

She smiled with you, too, he reminded himself, though it wasn't much comfort. Ron might have been able to make her smile, but he didn't have the fame or the money or the popularity to go along with it. Making her smile was the only thing he had.

The familiar pang of jealousy hit him — swirling around him, engulfing him. He had no right to feel as he did, for she was free to choose who she wanted. But he wanted it to be him — he wanted it so much that the reality of the situation was near unbearable.

He loved her. He'd known for a while, working through the confusing, yet exhilarating, feelings it brought him.

He loved her...

"I have no idea why he got invited."

Ron startled, surprised to see Ginny standing beside him. Her eyes were also on Hermione and Krum.

Ron didn't say anything. He looked at the three bottles in his hand. "Yeah, well… I've got to go and give these to…"

He made to leave, but Ginny said, "You're better, you know?"

Ron paused, turning back to face her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny nodded towards Krum. "You're better than him. For her, I mean."

Ron felt his face flush, but he refused to look back over at Hermione and Krum. He watched his sister for a moment, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not. The look on her face told him that she was.

For the first time ever, he decided to be honest with her. "In what way?" he asked quietly.

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know… I'm just repeating what she told me. He's just a friend — she said she's not the slightest bit interested in him in that way. Her words, not mine."

Ron swallowed. When had the room gotten so warm? "She said that?"

Ginny nodded. "She picks you. She won't tell you, because of everything that's going on — you know, all your secret plans and all — but… it's you, Ron."

Ron finally found the courage to look back over. Hermione wasn't anywhere in sight, but he spotted Krum skulking the edges of the tent, watching everyone with his usual deadpan expression. He released a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked after a moment. It wasn't like his sister to be this nice, but he couldn't sense any mockery in her voice.

Ginny smiled. "Because it's a wedding, a celebration of love, and the pair of you love each other, but you're too stupid to do anything about it. Besides, I couldn't bear the look of self-pity when you saw them talking just a moment ago."

"I wasn't —" He stopped. Who was he kidding? He had been self-pitying.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, though she was being overly nice to him tonight so it didn’t last long. “Listen, I just thought you should know that you don’t have anything to worry about… about Krum. He’s… he’s not in the way. Not for her.”

Ron cast his eyes around the tent again, and through a gap in the dancers, he saw Hermione at one of the tables with Harry. She was still flushed in the face, smiling widely, and just looking happy to be where she was. She had spent a lot of time crying over the past weeks — over her parents mostly — so to see her smile warmed him.

At the end of the school year, he’d thought that maybe something could happen. He’d been hopeful that it would, even taking the time to read the book Fred and George had gotten him. And the time together before Harry arrived, even the time after, tonight… it had filled him with a joy that he couldn’t quite grasp.

There had been something there tonight. It hadn’t just been two friends dancing. It had been… something more. Maybe, had they let things go longer, it might have ended with them sharing a kiss.

But all it had taken was seeing her with Krum — someone better at Quidditch than him, someone more famous than he’d ever be, and someone with more money than Ron could ever dream of — and all that hope had gone out in an instant.

Now, Ginny was telling him something completely different to what his mind had imagined —

“There's no better time to do it than at a wedding," Ginny said, almost reading his thoughts.

Ron nodded, though he didn't make to move anywhere. Despite it all — despite wanting to — in a few short days they would be leaving, going to who knew where, and he knew that until they found and destroyed all of the Horcruxes then there'd be no time for romance. So what was the point?

Just one night, he found himself thinking. Just tonight, it can be good.

Still clutching the Butterbeers, he moved forward, keeping his eyes on her, repeating in his head what he might say. Maybe he'd take her from the tent, have some privacy, at least see what she'd have to say.

But he was only halfway there when the Patronus arrived. Kingsley, telling them the Ministry had fallen.

Panicked ensued after that, and Ron was thrown to the side as people made desperate attempts to escape what they all now knew to be an attack.

He felt the Butterbeer bottles slip from his hands and spill over his shoes. He ignored it, pushing through the panic.

Hermione was his only thought. He'd lost sight of her and Harry in the mess, but somewhere, somehow, he thought he could hear her… calling his name.

He followed it, and a moment later he saw them. He saw the relief on both of his friends' faces, not just Hermione's.

And then Hermione Disapparated them, sucking them into a void away from the danger. After that, any hope of the night ending well — of just enjoying one night with her — was erased.

Now they had to find Horcruxes.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #hp fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #ron & ginny friendship

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imagine-that · 4 years

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Target

Warnings: none

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!reader

AN: I love the twins with all my heart but I have a very special place for Fred, he’s my bby and I’m still in denial of his death 🙂. Also figured I would post a fluffy imagine as opposed to the HEARTBREAK I posted last night for the Marauders.

“Fred! George!” You cried out, storming down the halls, a trail of Gryffindor red dust flying off of you at every turn.

Though you were often fine with their pranks and usually let them slide, this one was too much. Your hair was turning a fiery red, your skin was tinged and every inch of your uniform was dusted in red.

“Well hello y/n, what might we do for you?” One of the twins asks as he appears by your side out of nowhere. You screech in fear, a hand flying to your chest instinctively to calm your racing heart. Soon enough, the other appears, making you scream yet again.

“Care to explain?” You ask, gesturing up and down at your figure.

“Well it would appear that you’re covered in some sort of red dust. Might want to get that cleaned up. You are the Prefect after all.” The other sing songs, and in that quick second of him talking, you know it’s Fred.

“You two are both dead, especially you Fred!” You growl, pointing an accusatory finger his way.

He puts a hand over his chest with a dramatic gasp, making you roll your eyes.

“So many years together and you still can’t tell us apart y/l/n?” He asks, feigning hurt.

“Don’t even try it Fred.” You breath a laugh of disbelief, narrowing your eyes at him.

The two look at you in shock, having never had anyone so surely differentiate them from each other.

“Detention again I take it?” They ask in sync, a smile on both their lips.

“Just- stop prank bombing me and I’ll forget about it.” You sigh. They nod quickly, but you know this won’t be the last prank they pull on you.

———————————————————

A little over a week later, you’re proven correct.

You trudge out into the common room, your face burning with fury.

“Weasleys!” You shriek. All of the red headed family looks up in surprise, looking at you in even more shock when they see your hair, now a very vibrant shade of y/f/c.

“Not all of you. Those two.” You breath, pointing a shaking finger at the twins. Once again, they act completely shocked.

“Corridor. Now.” You say as calmly as you can muster, walking outside the room and trying to regain your normal composure. They slowly follow behind, both looking a mix of scared and amused.

You cross your arms over your chest impatiently.

“The both of you are the worst.” You groan, tugging at strands of your hair as they step through the painting frame.

“I must say, I think it looks bloody brilliant.” Fred says proudly but you’re too busy fuming to notice the fond expression on his features.

“How am I supposed to go to class like this?” You moan.

“Well, it’s not as if it’s against dress code.” George shrugs with a grin.

You raise an eyebrow at the both of them. “You mean go to class like this? Isn’t that a bit mental?” You ask, biting your lip, your anger slowly dissolved.

“Not at all. In fact, it’ll turn heads.” George says with a smirk.

Fred nods in agreement. “Some might even say it’s breathtaking.” He says with a smile.

“And I wasn’t breathtaking before?” You ask teasingly, your spirits slightly lifted.

“Oh no. You were actually quite ghastly looking before really.” He says sarcastically, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

“How have you two gits not yet been expelled exactly?” You quip back.

Again in sync, they shrug. “Beats us.” They reply together.

“With much discretion?” George offers.

“And much secrecy?” Fred adds.

You laugh, almost snorting at the response. “The two of you? Discreet? As if.” You say, still giggling.

They take one look at each other and shrug, obviously knowing that you are indeed correct.

“You see?” You ask with a smile.

“Think you know us better than we know ourselves there y/l/n?” Fred asks with another grin.

You roll your eyes. “I probably do but whatever. Just stop with the pranks. Let me at least have the chance to pretend I have no clue what the two of you do around the school.” You say sternly, walking away before either can say another thing to you.

“Breathtaking eh Fred?” George teases with a smirk once he knows you’re all the way down the hall.

Fred gently shoves him, sighing to himself. “Shut up George.” He laughs.

The two bicker back and forth jokingly, walking back into the Gryffindor common room together.

————————————————

You had decided to leave your hair the colour the boys had dyed it, getting plenty of stares from your fellow students and prefects but choosing to ignore them.

Within the month, people finally stopped asking about it, actually growing used to the colour change.

“Hello there y/n.” Fred says with his usual smirk as he sits down next to you in the library, surprisingly with an actual book in hand.

“Afternoon Fred. Where’s your other half? Surely you didn’t lose him?” You tease, looking up from your own book.

“No not at all. He has some studying of his own to do I’m afraid.” He responds, flitting through the pages out of boredom.

You eye him out of suspicion, unsure of what to do. Lately the only time he talked to you was to prank you. It made you a tiny bit paranoid.

“Relax y/n, we know when to take breaks from our tricks.” He assures you without looking up.

“Of course.” You mutter sarcastically.

“We are! That one was enough to last a while. With you at least.” He says, gently touching your hair and sending a shiver down your spine.

“Ah yes, it was a good one I suppose.” You admit with a small smile escaping your lips.

“I trust I got your favourite colour right?” He asks with a toothy grin.

You eye him, pleasantly surprised that he knows anything about you at all. Slowly you nod, your mouth still open in shock.

“Why so surprised? I do try to know at least something about my fellow Gryffindors. Especially the best prefect we could have.” He says, his smile widening and his eyes sparkling happily.

The two of you sit in silence, looking down at your own books until finally he breaks the silence.

“So, how goes the love life? Got anyone special around here?” He asks playfully.

You guffaw, a grin on your face.

“No, not at all.” You reply honestly.

“That’s a pity. People don’t know what they’re missing.” He comments, to your relief not noticing your surprised gaze on him.

“Yes well... I suppose maybe one day in my dreams I’ll meet the perfect person.” You sigh, smiling softly to yourself at the idea.

“You must be dreaming then because I’m sitting right here.” He says, an exaggerated wink your way.

You laugh, an even wider smile blossoming on your face along with a blush.

The two of you quiet down again, refocusing on your respective homework.

——————————————————

Against your many outbursts, reactions and screaming, the twins continued to pull their pranks on you, making your blood boil and your heart race for a reason you couldn’t explain.

Finally, a week before the fifth years had their O.W.L.S, you had fully had enough. Your stress levels had gone up and your patience wore thin.

You’d been helping the young exam takers study, feeling pity for them as you saw them looking almost physically ill from the stress.

Suddenly, as you helped one of them finally figure out the answer to their hardest problem, the twins apparated to your side, spilling water all over you.

“For heavens sake!” You scream, wiping off your face as the younger students stifle their giggles.

“You look like you could use a little help there y/n.” Fred says as he offers you a towel. You snap it out of his hand, dabbing at your face with it.

“I’m so sick of this! Detention, both of you!” You order, pushing past everyone up to your dorm and letting the door slam behind you as you collapse onto your bed and start crying.

You weren’t really sure what the reason was. It might’ve been that you figured Fred only liked you as a pranking target or it might’ve been all the stress. All you knew was you were crying in that moment.

A little while later, a soft knock at the door gets you to your feet, trudging over and pulling it open.

“Fred said he would like to speak to you.” Hermione informs you, taking in your drenched uniform with a look of sympathy.

“Of course he is.” You sigh. “Thanks Hermione.” You add with a grateful smile. She nods before walking back downstairs.

You quickly change out of your wet clothes, leaving your hair to air dry as you walk cautiously down the stairs to find Fred and only Fred sitting at a table in the common room.

“What is it you wanted?” You ask tiredly.

“Come with me.” He says simply, grabbing you by the hand before you can protest, pulling you through the painting at the door and down the many staircases and out into the courtyard.

“Where’s George? Waiting for your signal?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

“Y/n...” He starts, putting a finger under your chin and pulling your head up to look at him.

“Yes?” You ask impatiently.

He takes a deep breath, staying silent for a moment. You look over at him, noticing his unusual, almost nervous composure for the first time.

“This better be good, I’m bloody freezing.” You murmur, a smile tugging at both of your lips as you look into each other’s eyes.

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours for a tender kiss, making your eyes widen in shock.

You pull apart, you staring at him for a minute and him looking like he didn’t even know he what he just did.

“Well... you could’ve just done that instead of the pranks.” You say, two fingers pressing to your lips where the feeling of his own still lingers.

He laughs, glancing over at you with a smile.

“Merlin y/n, I was terrified of doing it.” He admits.

“But not of me bloody killing you?!” You shout, staring at him as though he’s gone insane.

“Nah, I reckon your life’d be too dull without George and I, you’d never go through with it.” He says with another grin.

You shake your head, laughing as you bury it into your hands.

“Merlin I can’t decide whether to kiss you or push you off a bridge.” You say, still laughing.

“Can I choose?” He asks, with a smirk.

You laugh a little harder, glancing over at him admiringly.

“You’re relentless.” You giggle, burying your face in your hands.

He moves in closer, wrapping an arm and a bit of his robe around you, resting his head on top of your own.

Your eyebrow quirks up, questioning his motives silently.

“You did say you were cold.” He shrugs with a sheepish smile, something you never once thought you’d see on Fred of all people. He was always loud, confident and daring. It was strange for you to be seeing him calm and nervous, vulnerable.

“Why yes, yes I did.” You smile, kissing him again.

“Well I see you made that decision then?” He asks playfully, making you scoff.

“Ugh I don’t know why I fancy you.” You groan, resting your head on his shoulder.

He laughs a bit. “Perhaps because it’s me we’re talking about here?” He asks, a smug look on his face.

“Yes perhaps that’s why.” You agree sarcastically, standing up and holding out your hand for him to follow. “If we aren’t in bed soon Percy may find us.” You explain, pulling him along with you as he had done earlier.

“Oh yes, Percy the prefect.” He says sarcastically, a mocking grin on his face.

“Oh shush, you know I’m also a prefect.” You snap back with a grin of your own.

“Yes but you’re the better prefect. The perfect prefect!” He whispers.

“Very cheesy Weasley, I must say.” You tease.

He chuckles, the two of you sneaking back to the portrait as quietly and inconspicuously as possible.

You sit on the sofa, sinking right into it with Fred right next to you, content with just being close to each other.

“Are these pranks going to stop now? Because though I may look good in y/f/c, my hair can’t take anymore.” You ask with an eyebrow quirked, your mouth set in a line to try and intimidate him.

He grins again, a mischievous look on his face. “Perhaps.” He says vaguely, making you groan.

“You know, there are other people to prank.” You offer hopefully.

“Oh yes but there’s only one y/n y/l/n.” He argues, pecking your lips.

“Very sweet but I’d hardly call that an apology.” You say with a half smile.

He hums in thought, obviously messing with you as he pretends to contemplate it.

“You may have to work harder for that one I’m afraid.” He says, his teeth glinting with the grin he flashes you.

You scoff, tossing one of the cushions nearest to you at him and wondering what could possibly be in store for you with this red headed prankster.

242 notes · View notes

nightbts · 4 years

Text

three + one | pjm

pairing: park jimin + bff! reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: fluff, angst + friends to lovers! au

warning: underage drinking

from diapers and awkward middle school dances to graduation and crowded college parties, you and park jimin were together, side by side through it all. walk through your friendship through the three times you kissed park jimin and the one time he kissed you, the kiss that finally changed everything.

[ age: six ]

“Someone save me!” you cried dramatically, “Who will rescue me from this dragon who wants to eat me!?” You flailed your arms about, hoping to gain attention from the boy who stood below the slide upon which you were sitting on.

“Princess! I am coming to rescue you!” Jimin yelled, as he charged towards the ladder, effortlessly swinging himself onto the wooden structure as he pulled out his fake toy sword.

“Rawr!” Taehyung growled as he stomped towards Jimin. Lifting up his hands, he curled his fingers outward in an attempt to resemble dragon claws, “You can’t take away my dinner!”

You watched as Jimin rolled underneath Taehyung’s legs, just for Taehyung to grab onto the back of Jimin’s shirt and pull him back away from you. Just then, you watched as Jimin flipped Taehyung over and pretended to stick the sword into his side.

“Noooooo!” Taehyung groaned in dramatic fashion, as his entire body began to shake before slowly coming to a stop, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, as he moaned, “I’m dead.”

Holding back giggles at Taehyung’s acting, your attention was quickly pulled to Jimin who came running towards you.

“My knight in shining armor!” you cheered, your smile reaching the ends of your face as Jimin crouched down beside you, a triumphant look on his face,“I’m here Princess!”

Pretending to untie the rope Taehyung had told you to imagine he tied around you, the second you were “free”, you threw your arms around Jimin’s neck and pulled him into a hug, “Yay, you saved me!”

Returning the hug, Jimin laughed into your shoulder before you pulled away from him.

“I must reward you for your bravery!” you said with a firm nod. Ignoring the look of confusion on Jimin’s face, you moved to his side before giving him a kiss on his cheek.

Making your way down the slide you were “trapped” upon, Jimin sat there in slight surprise as his face flushed, his cheeks burning where your lips had touched them.

[ age: fourteen ]

“Stop looking over there. You are practically staring.” you scowled in a hushed whisper as you tugged at his tie, trying to bring his attention back to you.

The lights in your middle school gym had dimmed down softly, a soft mix of purples and pinks lighting up the floor as the DJ played a slow song, the soft melody playing through the overhead speakers.

Stepping on your foot at that exact moment, you let out a soft yelp! as Jimin cursed under his breath, his eyes still trained on a certain figure who was dancing a couple feet away from you.

Finally looking at you, the scowl on your face slowly disappeared as you saw him look at you sadly, disappointment painted freshly across his face. Sighing softly, you said, “Jimin, I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

Nodding, his eyes fluttered close before murmuring, his awkward grip tightening on your waist, “Yea, I know. I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

Turning the both of you around, as casually as possible, your gaze fell upon Soohyun as she danced with Taehyung, her face sporting the brightest smile possible as she stared at him with a soft twinkle in her eye.

“Why didn’t you tell Taehyung you liked her?” you whispered quietly. Half shrugging, he replied sadly, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” before adding with a shake of his head, “Didn’t think it would hurt so much when he asked her and she said yes.”

"You’re such an idiot.” you mumbled under your breath, to which Jimin quirked his brow at.

This time it was his turn to scowl at you, “Hey, that’s not very nice. At least you don’t have a stupid crush on someone who doesn’t like you.”

You almost snorted. The words laid at the tip of your tongue, a vague confession complaining that you in fact did have a stupid crush on someone who definitely didn’t like you back but you knew saying that would only lead to further annoying questions that you didn’t know how to answer.

Instead you chose to just roll your eyes and stick your tongue out. Real mature for a fourteen-year old.

The both of you continued to sway slightly, attempting to stay in rhythm as you tried your hardest to turn Jimin’s attention away from Soohyun and Taehyung. When your eyes would glance back every now and then, Jimin finally nudged your side bringing your attention back to him.

A small smile played on the corner of his lips, "Being the one told me to stop looking, I don’t think its fair for you to do it, is it?”

“I’m just protecting you.” you stated with a slight huff, eyes automatically glancing back as your frown deepened. Soohyun was leaning in closer to Taehyung, who’s smile was growing wider, the blush evident on his cheeks.

“Y/N.” Jimin said softly, your name sounding like warm caramel on his lips. Turning back to look at him, you blinked at him curiously before he added, “I know you didn’t want to come, but thank you for not letting me come alone. That would’ve sucked real bad.”

Laughing softly, you gave him a smug smile, “Damn right. What would you have done without me? Let me guess, you’d be sitting in the corner crying your ass off.”

Jimin’s lips turned downwards as his eyes narrowed at you. With a scoff, he replied flatly, “Nevermind, I take it back.”

“Too late~”

Before you could hear Jimin’s response to your teasing remark, your eyes fell back on the dancing pair, yet this time what you witnessed had a gasp slipping past your lips. Brows knitting together, Jimin studied your face for a second before turning around, trying to follow your line of sight. But before he could, your hands flew out and grabbed his tie.

Actions moving faster than your mind could possibly comprehend, you watched as Jimin gave you a bewildered look but when your eyes flickered at Soohyun and Taehyung’s lips meeting, the only thought in your head was: Don’t let Jimin see them Y/N, don’t!

So instead you chose to do what any normal person would do, right?

Pulling him down, you squeezed your eyes shut before pressing your lips against Jimin’s. Hearing him let out an audible mmph! in surprise, you quickly pulled away, your heart pounding against your chest. A million feelings rushed through your body as you peeked through your lids to look at him, the tingling sensation of the boy’s lips on yours still giving you butterflies.

“Y-Y/N, what was that—?”

“Y-You had something on y-your lip!” you stammered, pointing your finger towards his mouth as you let out a nervous laugh. Averting your gaze, you quickly turned around and pointed towards the table filled with cups of fruit punch before asking, “You—uh, want any?!”

Jimin’s curious gaze vanished as he nodded slowly, watching as you flashed him an awkwards thumbs up before running away into the crowd. Lifting his fingers up to his lips, he shook his head in amusement when he looked up, his fingers faltering.

There they stood, lips barely brushing each others as he watched Soohyun giggle at something Taehyung had said. Jimin quickly turned around, his cheeks flaring up in embarrasment when he remembered the look on your face before you pulled him in for a kiss.

Did you also see what he saw?

Expecting himself to feel a surge of sadness as he witnessed his best friend and crush together, instead he felt nothing. Except for the subtle butterflies in his stomach from when your lips touched his, a rush of mixed emotions swam through Jimin’s heart as his lips tilted upwards into a soft smile; things were starting to change.

Yet he didn’t exactly mind it either.

[ age: eighteen ]

Flying through high school, senior year had finally rolled around. Before you knew it, you were spending the last Christmas as high schoolers before everyone you were close with, would all be off to college pursuing their dreams.

[8:10] jiminie:

you ready yet? i’m almost there

Checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you grabbed your lipstick that sat on the countertop and swiped it across your lips. Turning the lights off, you quickly rushed out into the living room and slipped your feet into your shoes.

“Have fun~” your mom sang from the kitchen, as you shot her a wide smile from the front door entrance.

“Not too much fun though,” your dad added from the living room couch, giving you a knowing look to which you simply rolled your eyes at.

[8:10] you:

yup, i’m ready

[8:10] jiminie:

bet, waiting outside

Giving your parents another goodbye, you slipped through the front door and made your way down the driveway to Jimin’s car.

“Get in loser.” He grinned, tossing back his imaginary hair as he mimicked Regina George’s infamous line. Laughing, you walked over to the other side as Jimin pushed the door open for you.

Closing it behind you, you got settled into your seat when Jimin asked, “Ready to go have fun?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

When Taehyung had said he was throwing a Christmas party the weekend his parents were gone, you underestimated exactly what kind of party he was planning on throwing. People you hardly knew walked around Taehyung’s house like it was their own with red solo cups filled with alcoholic beverages as loud, club-like music blasted througout the house. You looked around as you stared at the other girls, dressed in tight bodycon dresses and mini skirts causing you to feel overwhelmingly underdressed in your simple white blouse and boyfriend jeans.

“Taehyung!” you hissed, approaching the blonde-haired male in his kitchen, “Why didn’t you tell me this was the kind of party you were throwing?!”

Bopping his head to the beat, Taehyung simply grinned at you, “Even I didn’t know this was the kind of party I was throwing. People just assumed and some even brought drinks themselves.”

Groaning slightly, you pressed your back against the kitchen countertop.

“You look fine, don’t stress about it.” a voice whispered into your side. Looking up at Jimin, you pouted softly, “Easy for you to say, you’re actually dressed well for tonight.”

Checking himself out, he gave you a smirk as he cocked his head to the side, “I guess you’re right about that.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to retort something smart in return when you suddenly heard the club-like disco music die down and Michael Buble’s Christmas album erupt through the speakers. Turning towards Taehyung who shot you a knowing grin, you flashed him a thumbs up despite the groans from various people across the room.

In time, everyone started feeling their way into the Christimas spirit, mouthing along the lyrics everyone’s heard since their childhood days as they all laughed together. After all, who could resist some bomb ass christmas music?

A couple of drinks in, you were feeling the alcohol finally hit you; your steps became heavy and light at the same time as you stumbled through crowds of people, singing the lyrics to the song playing in the most off-tune manner possible.

As you reached a doorframe, your hand reached out to grab it in attempt to gather your balance when you felt a hand wrap around your arm, “Seems like someone had a bit much to drink, Y/N.”

Looking up, your smile widened up to your eyes as you took in the figure in front of you, “Hey there, handsome.”

Laughing slightly, Jimin shook his head in amusement. He looked down at you as your hands grabbed at his denim jacket, playing with the buttons nonchalantly.

“Did I tell ya you look good today?” you asked teasingly, as you pulled him closer to you, your faces only several inches apart from each other.

Jimin’s eyes widened in slight surprise at your actions, he knew you’d never do this if you had been sober and didn’t know how to react at all.

Before Jimin could say anything, he heard a loud woot! and look over there’s! being yelled in your direction. Scrunching your nose up in confusion, you turned to your side to see several people pointing at you before many started cheering in unison “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Wha—” you started, blinking in confusion as the slight ruckus brought you out of your drunk state. Looking back at Jimin, you saw him staring above you as your gaze followed his.

Hanging from the top of the doorframe under which you and Jimin were standing, was a neatly wrapped mistletoe. Your eyes suddenly widened as your breath hitched in your throat. Looking back down, you met Jimin’s gaze as you saw his face, completely drained of color.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The cheers continued around you, some starting to complain at the lack of any action between you too and others openly wishing it had been them stuck under the mistletoe with Jimin and not you.

You didn’t know whether it was those comments or the hidden burning desire inside you to feel those lips against yours, but your grip on his jacket only tightened as the agonizing slow seconds ticked by.

“Hey, you don’t need to...” Jimin finally murmured, bringing your attention back to him.

“It’s not a big deal.” he added, averting his gaze from you as he shot nervous smiles towards those who continued to cheer at you both to do something.

But to you, it was a big deal. Jimin was always a big deal to you.

So instead, you ignored his words and grabbed his face, turning it back to face you. His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden motion, flickering to your hands that laid on either side of his face.

“Y/N—?”

Without a second thought, you took in a deep breath before you reached up and pressed your lips firmly against his. You felt him stiffen against you for a second; fear coursed through your body as you started to pull away, an apology resting at the tip of your tongue. However, before you could do anything, you felt a pair of arms snake around you waist and pull you closer, lips meeting yours again in a kiss like never before.

As the cheers around you heightened in volume, you could hear absolutely nothing besides the sound of your heart hammering away in your chest as Jimin kissed you back, harder and harder until you could feel, see, hear, taste and smell nothing but Jimin.

Feeling yourself out of breath, the both of you pulled away, foreheads resting against each other as you panted, your chest rising up and down. Your eyes flickered up and caught Jimin’s, who was already staring at you. For the first time, he had an undreadable expression on his face. Usually able to tell how Jimin was feeling by a simple look at his face, today it was like you were staring at a stranger.

Your hands dropped from his denim jacket as you stared down at the ground, tongue-tied in your mouth as your lips still felt like they were on fire. The people around you had finally stopped paying attention as they had seen what they had wanted, many resuming back to drinking and dancing with their friends while you and Jimin remained frozen under the mistletoe.

Feeling a slight tug on your arm, you turned to see Taehyung standing beside you. You watched as he shot Jimin a grin before pulling on the sleeve of your blouse yet again, motioning for you to follow him. Almost immediately, you nodded as you allowed yourself to be pulled away from Taehyung.

Anywhere that isn’t here, you thought to yourself.

Finding yourself a good bit away from Jimin, you finally stopped Taehyung who looked back at you, his smile dropping as his brows furrowed in concern, “Hey are you alright—?”

You placed a hand on his, “It’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”

Of all the people you were friends with, Taehyung had been the only one to understand your feelings towards Jimin, the feelings that even you yourself had yet to figure out completely. He was always there when you had to rant about random things that didn’t make sense to you; instead of forcing anything on you, he just listened and let you say what you had to say. And for that, you were always thankful.

“I swear, I didn’t put that mistletoe up there.” he replied with a frown.

Laughing lightly, you shook your head, “It’s alright Taehyung, it’s nobody’s fault. I had a bit to drink anyways so...” you trailed off.

Subconsciously, you found yourself looking back at where Jimin was standing, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were feeling at that moment. Like every single cell in your body was on fire, your nerves combusting as your mind replayed the kiss over and over again, enough for your body to physically feel the impact Jimin had on you.

However, you watched as a girl pulled down Jimin by grabbing his denim jacket, the very jacket you just had your hands on as she whispered something into his ear, causing Jimin to throw his head back in a laugh, his eyes turning into crescents as he shot the girl a cheeky smile.

Looking away with a soft sigh, you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth before biting down harshly, hoping the physical pain would distract you from emotional pain that plagued your mind.

Finally, you looked back up at Taehyung, a sad smile on your face, “Got anything more to drink?”

[ age: twenty-two]

“This is nice isn’t it?”

“Yea, it is.”

“I really missed everything, especially you.”

Turning to face him, your heart fluttered lightly in your chest at his words. He was looking up at the night sky, the full moon that night illuminating his face that he nearly looked angelic, heavenly in fact.

Cheeks blushing, you looked away before murmuring softly, “Yea, I missed you too.”

You were finally back in your hometown after a long tortureous spring semester of your senior year at college. It was the summer after graduation, and in the admist of job searching, you and Jimin thought it would be nice to spend time together after being years apart.

While you and Taehyung had ended up in the same college just a couple hours from home, Jimin decided to head out of state and move across the country for school.

And with that, he took your heart along with him.

You had tried dating during college, yet nothing seemed to work. Your very first boyfriend, Hoseok, had been one of the sweetest people you had ever met. But even he was able to tell, that no matter how much he cared for you, you were unable to return it back. When you guys decided to break up, he had told you that before you tried loving someone else, you needed to get over your ex first.

What a joke, you didn’t even have an ex.

Just a best-friend who you were hopelessly in love with for nearly all your life.

“Y/N?”

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you looked over at Jimin to see him already looking at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you think it’s crazy how we’ve been friends for this long?”

Friends, you almost let out a bitter chuckle but instead you decided to shove away your feelings for once. After all, Jimin was right. Before anything, Jimin was your best friend, a friendship that meant the absolute world and beyond to you. And it was for that reason, you had never told him your true feelings.

Chuckling sofly, you nodded, “It really is, isn’t it? It’s going to almost be 20 years soon.”

You and Jimin had met in pre-school; the both of you were like opposite ends of a magnet, constantly stuck to each other during playtime, snacktime and even naptime as your mothers had several embarassing pictures of both of you sprawled across each other.

“Hmm, you’re right.” Jimin laughed, “Can’t believe you stuck around for that long Y/N.”

Raising your brow at that, you scoffed lightly, “Did you think I was going to leave you? The one person who understands me inside and out?”

“Do I though?”

The four years Jimin had left for college, you had only seen him during his breaks; however, going from seeing someone nearly everyday to only a couple weeks a year was something you didn’t think you knew how hard it would be, until you actually went through it.

During those four years, Jimin had definitely changed. He was no longer the flirtacious, teasing boy you knew throughout highschool, the one who would wink at any girl who looked at his way. He was suddenly a lot more mature; from the way he looked to the way he held himself, Jimin had grown up in the last four years significantly, and you were rarely there to witness it happen.

So when Jimin asked you that question, you felt your heart go still in your chest; you stared at him in confusion. Something in Jimin’s gaze slightly changed, and the fact that you weren’t able to decipher it, drove you crazy.

Finally, you broke the silence, a lace of caution present in your voice “What is that supposed to mean, Jimin?”

This time it was his turn to stare blankly at you before looking away; running his hands through his hair, he simply shook his head, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Nodding slowly, you didn’t feel it in yourself to want to find out, afraid that pushing him would only result in something you didn’t want to confront just yet.

The two of you continued to talk, conversation flowing naturally as you told each other stories you weren’t able to over phone calls and text messages. Before you knew it, it was midnight, as the sounds of crickets and owls hooting filled the silent night sky.

Feeling a yawn coming, you stretched your arms up, releasing the tightness in your muscles from sitting in the same spot for hours. When you looked up, your brows knitted together when you finally said, “Jimin, had those clouds always been there?”

Following your gaze, he frowned before grabbing his phone out his pocket. Pressing down on the weather app, he let out a deep sigh before flashing the screen to you.

“Rain showers,” he simply stated as you looked at the high percentage of the chance for rain in you area at that time of night.

“Maybe we should get going?”

Nodding, the both of you started packing up the things you had brought when you felt a sudden drop of water hit the back of your neck. Looking up in alarm, you met Jimin’s gaze knowingly before the two of you quickly sped up, grabbing everything you could in your arms as you ran towards the car.

After the first droplet, the rest seemed to fall down simultaneously as the drops of water hit you, soaking your clothes and everything in between. Jimin looks back at you, a wide grin on his face before his hand wrapped around your wrist, “Come on you slow poke!”

“I-I’m not slow—!” you stammered out when you felt a tug on your arm; Jimin started to run, as he pulled you along with him. Your shock was quickly replaced with laughter as the both of you ran like crazy, completely drenched to the point where both of your hair were in strands and clothes were stuck to your bodies.

Once you reached your car, you both hurriedly threw your things inside, closing the doors quickly as you hoped they weren’t as soaked as the two of you were.

Suddenly, you felt Jimin stop. And you stop. You turned towards him as the both of you just stood there in the pouring rain, staring at each other as the water trickled down your cheeks, your lashes fluttering every so often to stop the drops of water from blurring your vision of the man who stood before you. You feel Jimin’s hand slowly sink down from your wrist to your own, your fingers intertwining perfectly with each other. And then he smiles. Jimin smiles so fucking wide that the corners of his lips reach the sides of his face, and his eyes turn into soft crescents.

You grinned back, “What happened to trying to get away from the rain?”

He shook his head as a soft laugh escaped him, droplets of water spraying from the ends of his hair, “I didn’t realize how nice this would be.”

“You’re right.” you admitted softly. Looking up at the sky, you felt the droplets of water splash against your skin, tickling your cheeks as you scrunched your nose in amusement.

Jimin watched you with a soft smile on his face, his gaze tracing every part of you, from the way your eyes fluttered to a close and to the way your tongue poked out to taste the drops of water that fell near the corner of your lips. He didn’t know what it was about you, but in that moment you had looked like the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

As your eyes fluttered open, you instantly met Jimin’s gaze, eyes hazy and deep as they stared into your slightly surprised ones. You tilted your head to the side, as you looked at him curiously with a smile of your own, “Is everthing alright Jimin?”

You watched as he slowly nodded, before moving closer towards you. Your brows quirked up in gentle surprise as you felt the distance lessen between the both of you. His hand that was intertwined with yours slowly loosened before travelling up your arm, and finally resting on the crook of your neck, his hot touch a stark contrast to the cold temperature surrounding you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, as Jimin’s next actions left you completely and utterly breathless.

“It is now.”

You felt his lips come crashing down, enveloping yours in a sweet embrace as he pulled you closer to him. His hand cradled your cheek as he dragged you into a kiss full of desperation and longing, his lips trying to tell you all his feelings that he hadn’t been able to put into words all these years. Your heart thundered in your chest, louder than the sound of the physical thunder that erupted around you as the rain only fell harder.

Your hands wrapped themselves around his neck as you kissed him back, reaching up with the tips of your toes in effort to bring him closer to your body than he already was. You felt him smile and you smiled back almost instantly as soft chuckles slipped past your lips. For all the times you had kissed Jimin first since your childhood days, he had finally kissed you first. Finally.

When the both of you finally part, Jimin rested his forehead against yours, his nose softly nudging yours, bringing your gaze up to his.

“You always said you wanted to kiss in the rain.” he finally murmurs, his lashes fluttering against your skin.

“Is that the only reason why you kissed me?”

You watched as his eyes shot open, blinking as he took in the soft pout that spread across your face at his confession. Shaking his head quickly, he cradled your face in both of his hands, “Hey, of course not.”

“I just—” he started, before pressing another kiss to your forehead, this one soft and plush, “I finally realized what an idiot I was. For not figuring out, that all this goddamn time. It was you Y/N, it was you.”

Wrapping your hands around his own, your eyes brimmed with tears as you whispered the three words you had pushed away for so many years, the three words that depicted how strongly you felt for the man standing in front of you, the three words that meant everything to you.

“I love you, Park Jimin.”

Jimin’s gaze softened as you felt him close the distance once again, his lips barely brushing yours when you felt him whisper back, his words like a permanent promise against your lips.

“I love you too, Y/N. And I always will.”

#bts #bts scenarios #kreativewritersnet #park jimin #jimin scenarios #ficswithluv #bts fics #bts fluff #bts angst #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin fic #jimin one shot #bts park jimin #bts jimin scenarios

223 notes · View notes

mithranqueersmusings · 4 years

Text

Starrison Week - Day 7 - Free Day

Rating: U

Summary: Olivia has a gift for Ringo.

Tags: One Shot, Angst

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

It had been a couple of years since George's passing, but it never seemed to get any easier for Ringo, any mention of his name or fleeting thought in his mind brought back the pain that never truly wavered. The hardest thing about grieving for Ringo was that he never truly felt he had the privacy to deal with it, they'd always be somebody asking about George: when was the last time he saw him, if they'd been close all these years and if he missed him. That final question was the most insulting, because of course he missed George; he missed him with every fibre of his existence, as much as any person could miss another. Some days were easier than others of course, but there wasn't a day that went by without a thought of George passing into Ringo's mind.

Ringo knew today would already be a little harder, attending an event for something - who could keep track these days? - which Olivia would also be attending. Ringo loved Olivia, she was the best thing to ever happen to George there was no doubt about it; she was kind and intelligent, managing somehow to keep George grounded for so many years. Seeing her would've been a joy, but every time Ringo saw her he couldn't help but thinking about the missing person between them.

They'd always speak to one another at events like these, Ringo especially liked to see how Dhani was getting on, and this occasion was no different. As Ringo approached her, he realised immediately there was something off by the expression of her face: he'd seen it a few times before, but not for years by this point. She approached Ringo with a hug, her charming smile lighting up her face.

"How are you?" She asked in her thick American accent, pulling away from the hug but leaving her hands resting on his shoulders.

Ringo smiled back at her "Alright, and yourself?" There was always an unspoken sadness between them, but both of them recognised its presence.

"Fine, fine." Olivia moved her hands away and began rummaging into her bag "I've got something for you."

"Oh?" Ringo asked, they'd given each other gifts before of course, but never in person.

Olivia pulled out a folded piece of paper, then handed it to Ringo with a smile "I found it inside the piano bench, can you believe it?"

Ringo accepted the paper gently "What is it?"

"It'll make sense when you open it, I'd wait until you're back home, though." Olivia explained, ever sweet.

Ringo eyed her quizzically "If you say so, thanks for whatever it is."

"You can thank me later." She brushed her hand over his arm softly, her eyes looked tearful, then gave it a quick squeeze before heading off into the array of people.

Ringo stood there for a few moments not moving, just holding the piece of paper in his hands. There was nothing more tempting than to open something when someone tells you to wait, but Ringo wanted to respect Olivia's advice; furthermore, if it was anything to do with George, Ringo didn't want to risk becoming an emotional wreck in front of all these people. And so he carried on mingling and drinking while the event carried on as if he didn't have the desperate urge to leave immediately, luckily time didn't pass too slowly.

When Ringo finally got home, he fished the paper out of his pocket almost instantly, but still didn't open it until he'd gotten comfortable in his living room. Now that he was finally able to look at it, part of him didn't want to. What could it even be? Ringo fumbled with the edges of the paper, it was clearly old from the way the sides had crumbled together, which no doubt meant that it was something George had written a long time ago. Ringo let out a heavy sigh, guessing what the contents might be would only make him feel more anxious, so it was best just to take a look. Now unfolded, he could see the paper was scrawled in an always familiar handwriting: George's. Ringo felt a pain already in his chest from seeing the curls of the letters, it was moments like this that made him realise just what little aspects of George he missed. Ringo powered through the initial ache and read the first line, it seemed to be a title of sorts.

Hey Ringo

The pain exponentially grew from this point on. Ringo knew it was silly to read these words as if George was speaking to him now, somewhere beyond this world, but it was difficult not to, especially when it felt so calming.

Hey Ringo now I want you to know That without you my guitar plays far too slow

Ringo felt his face tightening, already a lump in his throat growing as he continued to read. A song written by George would've been enough of a struggle, one written to him was even worse, but a song written to him about their love for one another, their inability to be without one another, all only to be discovered long after George had passed, was near unbearable.

And Ringo let me say this to you I've heard no drummer who can play it quite like you

Ringo found himself reading the words aloud, he wasn't quite sure when he'd started. He only wished he'd be able to hear George sing them, Ringo always thought he had such a beautiful voice. It wasn't the first time George had reassured Ringo on his drumming ability, it was impossible to forget the sight of all the flowers George had filled the studio with when he'd 'quit' the band all those years ago.

Wait a minute Mr G. Stop flattering me My drums sound bare When your guitar's not there

Ringo let out a sad laugh, the kind you make when your brain registers the happiness before the pain. This wasn't a simple case of Ringo merely missing when they played together as The Beatles, the two of them had continued to play for years after that. George had written songs for Ringo across the years, he wondered why this one had never surfaced before.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey Let me hear you playing

When had George written this? There was no date in sight, and considering it'd been stored away in Friar Park it could've been from any time at all. Had George even remembered he'd written it? During their years as The Beatles, George already had a plethora of songs he'd written that were just waiting to be recorded - many of then which never were.

Hey Ringo there's one thing that I've not said I'll play my guitar with you till I drop dead

It was at this point that Ringo realised he'd started crying, a teardrop fell onto the aged paper and left a small mark which began to grow. He quickly dabbed his eyes, no matter how justified his emotions felt in that moment he couldn't let them ruin this now treasured piece. Even though these words were never written with the meaning they now had, Ringo couldn't help viewing them that way. All the little disputes they may have had in their whole lives of knowing one another, seemed to wash away with these words.

Well, G. it's really nice the things you say But when you drop, please fall the other way

Another pained laugh, and more tears. Classic George, always ending with a joke even in the most sincere of situations. Ringo couldn't stop the tears from falling this time, he had to move the paper away to avoid drenching it.

Despite his weeping, Ringo still had a smile on his face, it was far too bittersweet to commit to one emotion. It felt like a new message, despite it clearly being several years old, that George was still able to communicate his love in this way. If anyone would've been able to somehow communicate through the vast and aching separation of death, Ringo thought it would've been George.

He imagined all the different George's of his life writing this down: whether it was the young, rebellious boy from Hamburg, the mopheaded cynic, the wise hippie, the gentle gardener or the mature and loving father he'd watched him become. While it was beyond upsetting to have experienced the loss of George, such a beautiful light in everyone's lives, in that moment Ringo felt blessed to have known him at all; especially to have been so important to him that he felt he'd immortalise their friendship in a song. Even though George never got round to finishing or recording it, Ringo didn't care, he'd cherish these words for the rest of his life.

For certain there is sadness where there is death, but in the memory of those we love there is true happiness and beauty.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison #starrison week

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silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

moral of the story

taehyung x reader - angst

word count - 2.2k+

warnings - none, just some real sad stuff

based on Moral of the Story - Ashe

a/n: I got obsessed with hearing this song in tatbilb2 (even tho it’s super cringy when Lara Jean lipsyncs to it and floats down the corridor lol) so here ya go

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘y/n?’ I hear from behind me, and the voice makes me go cold all over. I slowly turn to face the boy that I already know is there, my heart jumping when my eyes land on him. ‘Taehyung!’ I exclaim, my mind and body completely frozen. ‘Oh, my God, it is you. Wow. Hey. How are you?’ he asks, a smile on his face, and my heart aches.

He looks… really good. He’s filled out since the last time I saw him, broader and taller. His fashion has changed too; his outfit of a pair of black slim-fit trousers, white shirt and black brogue shoes would never have been in his wardrobe back then. His face has matured, thick eyebrows and strong jawline giving him a manly and masculine air. His hair is back to his natural colour, brown and chocolaty, long enough to rest in pretty curls at the nape of his neck. But his smile, and his eyes? They haven’t changed in appearance. He still has the same boxy smile, the same big, brown eyes. It’s just that… I didn’t see much of his smile then. And his eyes never shone the way they are now.

He was never this happy.

‘I’m… I’m really good, actually.' 'I’m glad to hear that,’ he says with a big smile, and I can’t help but smile back. ‘How are you? I can’t believe it’s been so long,’ I say, both of us moving forward in the queue.

‘I know, it’s crazy. But, yeah, I’m good. Are you, um, still teaching?’ ‘No, I’m not. I, uh, I opened a dance studio, with Lisa. You remember Lisa, right?’ I ask, and he nods, smiling. ‘Yeah, I remember Lisa. Wow, that’s amazing, y/n. You always wanted to dance, so I’m glad that you followed that dream,’ he says, looking so genuinely happy, and I beam back at him.

‘Thank you. I’m glad I did too. I love it there. But, anyway, what about you? You’re not still at that office job you hate, right?’ I ask, and he shakes his head, laughing. The sound makes me melt. ‘No, thank God. No, I actually… I’m a musician. Finally put all my saxophone lessons to good use,’ he jokes, and I’m shocked. But happy.

‘Wow, Tae, that’s so cool, I’m so happy for you. So, do you like, play gigs and stuff?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘I’m in, like, a band, and we play weddings and parties and stuff. I do shifts at my parents’ shop during the week, because obviously, the income from playing weddings and parties isn’t really enough, but I’m happier doing this so… yeah,’ he says, grinning, and I feel so warm inside, inexplicably happy for him.

‘God, Tae, I’m honestly so happy that you’re happy. How are your parents?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘They’re good. I’m sure you can imagine how they reacted when I told them I was quitting my job to join a band. Thought I was going through a mid-teens crisis,’ he jokes, and I laugh, knowing his parents well enough to know their reaction to his new career path.

‘They were probably just worried,’ I begin, but then I reach the front of the queue. ‘Let me get your drink,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘Come on, y/n, for old time’s sake,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow with an amused smile, the same thing on both of our minds; our first date at a coffee shop, when he insisted on buying my drink.

‘She’ll have an iced vanilla latte with a shot of caramel, and can I have an iced mango and passionfruit smoothie please?’ he says to the barista, and my heart warms that he remembers my order. ‘That is what you wanted right?’ he asks, and I nod with a grin. ‘What else would I have?’ I say, and he laughs. He pays and we move to the side to wait for our drinks.

‘So, how are your parents?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘They’re good. You know what they’re like,’ I say, and he laughs, knowing exactly how much they used to nag me all the time. ‘Do they still get on at you about getting married?’ he asks, and I can feel my happy face slip a little. ‘Well, I’m actually engaged now,’ I say, his smile faltering, which makes my heart jump. ‘So now they’re stressing me out about wedding planning,’ I say with a forced laugh, shock still clear on his face.

‘Wow, y/n, congratulations. I’m so happy for you. Who’s the lucky guy? Do I know him?’ he asks me with a grin, nudging me, and I laugh, trying to put his initial reaction out of my mind. ‘You do know him, actually. Remember Jung Hoseok? He was in the year above us at school? Good friends with Namjoon, and Jimin?’ I say, and he nods, looking surprised. ‘Yeah, he, um, he started working at the studio, and one thing led to another, and now we’re engaged,’ I say as he nods with a smile.

‘That’s amazing, y/n. How long have you been engaged?’ he asks. ‘Only a few days, actually. Which is why you haven’t heard about it. We haven’t told anyone but our parents yet. So if you could just keep it to yourself…’ I trail off and he nods with a smile. ‘Of course, of course. Send my congratulations to Hoseok too,’ he says, and I smile, putting in as much warmth to cover the icy feeling inside.

‘Thank you. Maybe you could play at our wedding?’ I joke, both of us laughing. ‘Joking aside, though, you know I would if you wanted us to. I’m always happy to help an old friend out,’ he says, and my smile drops a little at him calling me an old friend, when we were so much more. ‘Thank you. I really appreciate that. But, anyway, how are the boys? It’s been so long since I spoke to any of them,’ I say, and he laughs with a roll of his eyes.

‘The boys are the boys. Jin’s head chef at this fancy restaurant in the city, and he’s engaged too. You probably saw that on your socials though. Yoongi’s a producer and Namjoon’s a manager, both at the same company. Jimin recently quit that office job he was doing, so he’s just doing a bit of part time work before he starts at another full-time job, and Jungkook’s working at a video games company,’ he says, and I’m surprised to hear about everyone’s career paths.

‘Wow. That’s… that’s so great. God, that’s so good to hear. For Jimin… he loved to dance, right?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Well, we’ve got an opening at the studio for a teacher,’ I start to say, and his mouth falls open. ‘He’d love that! Shall I… do you want his number?’ he offers. ‘How about you give him my number instead, so he can only contact me if he’s interested?’ I suggest, before realising that this means I have to give Kim Taehyung my number. ‘Yeah, that’s fine. Here, just…’ he says, getting his phone out of his pocket and handing it to me to put my number in.

I save myself as a contact and try my hardest to ignore that, when I type my name in, my old number comes up, the contact name still the same as it used to be; my name, with a pink heart next to it. ‘Here,’ I say, handing him back his phone, and when he takes it, our hands momentarily brush. I try not to flinch.

‘One iced vanilla latte with a shot of caramel and one iced mango and passionfruit juice?’ the barista says, and Tae takes both of our drinks, thanking him. He hands me my drink, and that’s when I spot it. The initials tattooed on his hand. ‘Wait. What does this stand for?’ I ask, wondering if he’s in a relationship, and Tae looks down at his hand before he looks back up at me with a smile.

‘Eunji. As in Jung Eunji. She’s my girlfriend,’ he says, and my mouth falls open. He’s with our school’s Regina George equivalent? ‘You and Jung Eunji?’ I ask incredulously, and he winces, nodding. ‘I know, I know. She wasn’t exactly the best person back then, but she’s changed in adulthood,’ he says, very vaguely, and I nod, with a raised eyebrow.

‘How did I not know about this?’ I demand, and he rubs the back of his neck embarrassedly. ‘We’re pretty lowkey. My parents thought it best not to make a big deal about this relationship when…’ he trails off, and I nod, already knowing the end of that sentence. ‘When our one didn’t work out,’ I finish, my heart heavy and he nods.

My mind flashes back to that last night, in that house we bought together. The house we made our own. The house we started a life together in. Having to tell him that I fell in love with the wrong person, and it hurting when he told me that he thought the same. Us realising that just because we still loved each other, didn’t mean we were still in love.

The last words he ever said to me ring in my ears; ‘maybe, one day, we’ll meet again, and we’ll fall in love all over, and it’ll be right. I hope so anyway. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, y/n. I love you. And I always will.’

‘Well, I mean, I’m surprised to hear about you and her, but your happiness is all that matters,’ I say, my heart aching, and he smiles gently. ‘Thank you, y/n,’ he says softly, and we both just smile at each other. It’s a sad moment, bittersweet to say the least.

‘Well, anyway, I better get going. My shift starts in half an hour. But, um, it was nice to see you, y/n,’ he says, hesitating awkwardly before he pulls me into a tight hug. It takes me off-guard, the force of his grip making me feel… safe. ‘It was nice to see you too. And I’m glad to see you happy,’ I say, hugging him back, and I hold back the tears at the feeling of his arms around me. Such a familiar, but strange feeling. ‘Thank you, y/n. And I’m glad to see you happy too,’ he says, pulling away from me, and just staring at me, an almost pained expression on his beautiful face.

He looks as though there’s something he desperately wants to say, but he closes his mouth, taking a deep breath. ‘Congratulations on the engagement, y/n. I wish you and Hoseok all the happiness in the world,’ he says, my heart hurting, and he leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek before he disappears, leaving me in shock, my cheek tingling.

I turn to watch him go, the door shutting behind him as he walks away hastily, shoulders hunched and head down, and I turn back after a few seconds, heading to the table in the corner.

‘Took you a while. Who was that? Old friend?’ Hoseok asks, watching Taehyung go as he takes a sip of my drink. ‘Um, it was Kim Taehyung,’ I say, his jaw dropping. ‘That was your ex-fiancé?’ he asks, and I nod, feeling slightly numb. ‘God, I didn’t even recognise him. He looks different. I bet that conversation was difficult,’ he says, and I nod again, smiling sadly. ‘Just a little. But it’s fine. We caught up and that’s it. We’ve both moved on. He’s in a relationship,’ I say, and he grins, loving a bit of gossip.

‘Who with?’ Hoseok asks, and I grin. ‘Jung Eunji. Jung motherfucking Eunji,’ I say, and Hoseok doesn’t react at all. ‘No, he isn’t with Jung Eunji,’ he says, and I look at him in confusion. ‘Yes, he is. He has her initials tattooed on his hand,’ I say slowly, and Hoseok shakes his head. ‘I ran into Han Seungwoo a couple months ago, and he told me that he was dating her – I forgot to tell you. But, I’m sorry, there’s no way he’s dating her if she was dating Seungwoo a couple months ago. Okay, they might be dating, but it can’t be serious enough for him to have her initials tattooed on his hand,’ Hoseok says, and my head is whirling.

‘But… he wouldn’t lie,’ I say, and Hoseok raises an eyebrow. ‘You told him you’re engaged, right?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘So, he’s saving face. Trust me, he feels embarrassed that you’ve moved on, and he hasn’t,’ Hoseok says, and I’m still sceptical. ‘Maybe he’s just… not taking this relationship as slowly as with me. He might be serious about Eunji,’ I say, and Hoseok shakes his head.

‘No, y/n. Taehyung was serious about you, but you know he’s the type of person to take things slow. He doesn’t rush into shit,’ he says, and I sigh. ‘So what do the initials stand for then?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘You were the one who nearly married him. What’s important to him? Parents? Or someone famous?’ he suggests, and then I realise, my heart stopping momentarily.

‘His siblings. Eunjun and Jeongyu,’ I say quietly, and Hoseok nods, sitting back in his seat. ‘There you go, then. He lied,’ Taehyung says, and I feel sick at the thought that he lied to me. He’s never lied to me. Not once. ‘Why would he lie?’ I ask sadly, and Hoseok puts a hand over mine comfortingly. ‘Isn’t it obvious, y/n?’ he says gently, and I already know what he’s going to say, my heart breaking as the words sound in my head. ‘He’s still in love with you, y/n.’

#ficswithluv #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts angst #bts au #bts v #bts taehyung #bts tae #kim taehyung #taehyung

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 4 years

Text

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader

Characters: Ron Weasley, Reader, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Bill Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley Fleur Delacour Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger

Word Count: 953

Rating: Teen

Tags: Established Relationship, Love, Christmas, Angst, Deathly Hallows, 90s, Angst, Crying, Fluff, Kissing,

Summary: They’re singing Deck the Halls, it’s not like Christmas at all

Notes: Updated 9/22

The chatter was light. The sound of the radio faint in the background. The room looked exquisite. Molly had gone all out trying to make the burrow feel Christmassy. She had bought a humongous tree and got all the kids to decorate it, though she didn’t know Fred and George had charmed it to decorate itself.

Molly had tried her hardest to make Christmas as normal as possible though it was hard not to notice the three jumper-shaped presents still wrapped underneath the tree.

Though there were at least a dozen people packed into the burrow’s small living room it didn’t feel crowded. Arthur was sat with Molly on a loveseat, listening to ‘deck the halls’ his new favourite of muggle Christmas songs. Bill and Fleur we’re talking to Charlie in the nook by the fireplace. Fleur was cuddled on Bill’s lap, absentmindedly stroking her small bump, whilst Charlie gesticulated enhancing a no doubt incredible story. Remus and Tonks' sat next to the tree, talking in hushed whispers whilst Kingsley sat next to them, drinking whiskey, pretending not to hear a word they were saying.

And Fred and George sat on the floor by the fireplace showing Ginny how to operate her new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products. I could tell they were doing their best to cheer her up, she was missing Harry terribly though she was putting a brave face on.

I knew how she felt.

I sat in the corner, silently sipping my drink whilst I watched everyone. It wasn’t that I’d had a bad day. I didn’t sleep well but I rarely did these days as the worry kept me up almost all night. No one had woken early, there was no excitement not really, we had all risen and exchanged pleasantries before doling out presents from under the tree. Christmas dinner was lovely, Molly had truly outdone herself though it was hard not to focus on the empty seats at the end of the table.

We’d tidied and migrated to the sitting room continuing to stuff our faces and chat merrily. It was easy to keep up the pretence at first. But as the day wore on it got harder.

I sipped the rest of my drink and put the cup down on the table beside me, standing up. I moved past the twins and Ginny.

‘Where are you going?’ Fred asked. ‘Outside,’ I said. ‘It’s freezing!’ Ginny said, ‘you’ll be frozen to the bone!’ ‘I’ll grab a coat,’ I assured her quietly. I could feel eyes on me as I walked into the kitchen but I didn’t care. I just needed to get out of that room. The heat, the noise, the happiness...it was all too much. I grabbed a coat off the rack and threw it on, going to the back door and opening it before slipping out.

I sat down on the back stoop, feeling the cold seep into my bones. The fields ahead of me were already white with snow and it was still falling. As it settled at my feet I thanked god I was protected by the porch roof though it didn’t stop me from shrinking into my coat.

That was when I smelled it. Him.

I realised that in my hurry to get out of the house I had grabbed Ron’s coat off one of the coat pegs and thrown it on in haste. It smelled of his aftershave, the one I had bought him last Christmas. Ron had been so excited to bring me home. Though the Weasleys knew me as his friend since we had become more than that he hadn’t really told them. Molly had been suspicious but relaxed around me eventually, realising I was no more different than the other years I spent with them. I think hand-making her a gift instead of buying one had won her over.

I felt the tears brimming and I couldn’t stop them from falling. The salty water rolled down my cheeks and collected in a pool under my chin making my face feel ice cold. I allowed myself to wallow for a moment, letting sadness wash over me.

Suddenly I was brought from my thoughts when a loud crack echoed in the yard. I looked out in front and saw a dishevelled figure. Instinctively I raised my wand and muttered ‘Lumos’

Through the snow and the darkness, it was hard to see but as they walked into the light of my wand I saw him. Ron.

I didn’t say anything. Any rules of the order or formalities were gone. Before I think my feet were moving from under me and I was running towards him and him towards me. I leapt and him and he caught me in an embrace pulling me close and leaning in to kiss me. It was deep and passionate and I could feel it radiate warmth all the way to my toes.

‘What. Are. You. Doing. Here,’ I said with each word punctuated by a kiss on his face. ‘It’s a long story,’ he whispered, ‘why are you crying?’ ‘I missed you,’ I admitted, ‘I thought it was because I’ve not got you a Christmas present… well, that or the smell of weeks of camping.’ ‘It’s okay,’ I smiled, ‘I'm so happy I’ll forgive that… for now, though I don’t think your mum will forgive you if you don’t march inside and have a wash right now.’ ‘Yes ma’am,’ he chuckled pulling away from me and pulling me to cuddle into his side as we walked towards the house. ‘Merry Christmas baby,’ he whispered into my ear. I didn’t have time to reply as we stepped inside and the uproar began but I didn’t mind.

#writing challenge #christmas fic #ron weasley fic #ron weasley #hp fic #molly weasley #arthur weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ginny weasley #perfect christmas #love #angst #fluff #kissing #bill weasley #charlie weasley #christmas baby please come home

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gremlinkweenarchive-blog · 5 years

Text

First Burn

A/N: So like I know this was NOT on my schedule at ALL but this song came on shuffle and I was inspired so enjoy this absolute pain. Listen to this song for an extra dose of pain. If you know Hamilton, then you know what’s about to go down.

Warnings: Angst, cheating, mentions of a marriage ending with kids, drinking when upset, but that’s about it

Word Count: 3 K

Tag List: @langdonsinferno, @americanhorrorstudies, @ccodyfern, @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul, @codyfernss

If you knew what today would bring you, you would have stayed in bed all day long, maybe for the rest of your life. It started as any typical Monday, breaking the illusion of free time the weekend brought was always the hardest, but feeling your husband squeeze you tight made you smile. Duncan kissed your neck and you cuddled into him further.

"I don't want to get up," you mumbled.

"Then stay in bed, dear. Take the day off, you deserve it."

You sighed as he finally opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "You know I can't do that. Neither can you, Mr. Secretary of Treasury." You poked his stomach and he let out a little chuckle though it didn't sound as lively as he usually was. You went to roll out of bed, but he caught you, holding you in bed.

"What?" You chuckled.

"Just know that I love you."

Your brow creased. Duncan looked more serious than you've seen him in awhile. "Yeah, you weirdo, I know that."

He leaned up to kiss you. Something sweet and sleepy, but full of love and passion. With that, the both of you got up and got ready for the day. Both of you in suits, and he was staring off into space rather than eat his breakfast when your nanny, Elise, showed up for the morning. You sighed in relief and handed her one of the twins.

"Thank you, Jack is so fussy this morning and I don't know why," you complained and she smiled.

"Babies have their moods just like adults."

They were your first borns, and this woman made a living rearing children, so you believed her.

"Seems to be Jack's not the only one in a mood," she remarked about Duncan, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

"Like father, like son I guess," you chuckled, though you were worried about your husband, but you trusted him to come talk to you when he was ready. You figured it had to do with those nasty rumors flying around about Duncan abusing the power of his position. You knew that was crazy talk. He'd never, but already having stared prison down the barrel once, you didn't blame his aversion to these types of rumors.

He got up, without touching his breakfast and kissed Jack and Eva goodbye before giving you one last kiss and hug. The kiss seemed to last forever and once he pulled away, you gave him a smile, but worried was plain as day on your face.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know you do," you smiled a little more genuinely. That was your little way that you said I love you back, but it also said that he could relax, things weren't as horrible as he thought they were.

He left for the day, and you finished getting ready as Elise got the children settled down.

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

You entered the boardroom on your floor. There was a case that you and your team were meeting for. You saw everyone glued to the T.V. as you walked in, sipping your thermos of coffee.

"Come on folks," you didn't even look to the screen, you were tossing your jacket on a chair and setting your briefcase down, "I've got partner to make at this god-forsaken law firm, and I'll be damned if Dale makes it before I do."

"Umm, Mrs. Shepard," one of your interns spoke, "You should watch this." She turned up the volume, and you looked up.

Shock flooded your system seeing your husband on screen. You read the running banner and it didn't make sense. You read it again.... And again. Sound faded out as you read the banner yet again.

"Secretary of Treasury Shepard admits that the suspicious emails and what appeared to be a skimming scam, was in fact a hidden affair."

You blinked, and you couldn't believe it, but then you heard his words coming from the screen.

"While this act is inexcusable, and I deeply sorry for the pain this causes my personal life, and my family, but I never put the integrity of my position or my department on the line..."

That's all you cared to listen to. Your stomach as flipping. He chose his job, the world over you. You felt like you were going to be sick or pass out, or maybe both. Your intern grabbed your arm.

"Do you want to go home?" She asked you, her eyes were clearly concerned and you nodded.

"Then let's go, the media's going to be swarming this place any second."

She wasn't wrong, and she helped you by grabbing your things and darting off.

"I'll be sure to send someone over with your car later."

In the emotion fog, you had one clear thought run through your head. Remember to hire this girl when she graduated.

There were already camera crews in the car garage when you stepped out of the elevator. You kept a stoic face. You heard clamoring, begging for comments. One aggressive reporter managed to get in your face and making you stop.

"Do you have any comments about the news press your husband held this morning."

Without even thinking, you answered, "Fuck off, bitch," before you pressed past, getting into your interns car. You were sure to hear about that one from your bosses later, but if they couldn't understand that your husband announced to the world that he cheated on you without even telling you first, then they would just have to deal with it.

The drive was silent, and you were surprised that you weren't crying. It didn't feel real. This had to be some awful dream, you were going to wake up any minute. You were lost in your thoughts, but she pulled up to your drive way much quicker than you thought.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," your voice as thick. Your face was wet and you touched your cheek. Apparently, you were crying.

"Are you going to be okay, Mrs. Shepard?"

That name used to bring you joy, a little surge of excitement every time you heard it, even just this morning before this horrific news, you felt a twinge of joy when she addressed you as such.

"Just, Y/N, Elizabeth. Don't call me that again."

She nodded.

"I'll see you when I go into work next." With that, you got out of her car, and walked up to your house.

Elise greeted you and she knew. You could tell by the look on her face, trepidation, concern, pity, sadness, all of it.

"There were people calling, looking for you, so I took the phone off the hook."

You smiled, well, the most of what you could muster of one. She knew what to do before you even knew the situation.

"Uhh, Elise?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Can you take the kids to my mother's house? I don't..." You didn't know what to say. You just didn't want them there. You wanted your space to process. Get whatever you needed to do without having to worry about your children or scaring them. They were too young to understand this anyway. They were just babies, and and maybe, just maybe you wanted to punish Duncan a little.

"I understand, Ma'am. Just call me when you're ready to have them back. Take as much time as you need."

You nodded and she left to go get the children ready for the day out.

You kissed your children before they left, and you waited for them to leave before you went to the liquor cabinet, and pulled out the George T. Stagg, pouring yourself a healthy glass. You didn't care if this was Duncan's 800 dollar bottle of bourbon. You were collecting your alimony early.

Sitting down, you took a breath. This still felt like a nightmare that you were destined to wake up from any moment. You drank half of the glass in one go. This wasn't real. He didn't do that to you. He couldn't do that to you. He told you that he loved you this morning. Sure, he had been a little distant in the past, but he was on the fucking presidential cabinet. Late nights were apart of the deal. He had calls that he could take with you in the room. He needed to take trips for the weekend... Right? He needed all of that for work. He loved you. He only laid down in your bed. You were the only girl for him, he promised that to you. It didn't matter that his gaze lingered too long on your sister? It didn't matter that he never shrugged off a friendly touch from a woman, even if the contact lasted just a hair too long right? None of that mattered. It couldn't matter because he promised you.

Oh God.

This was real. This was real. This was real.

In a sudden fit of rage, you flung the glass against the wall and the delicate thing nearly exploded on impact, and a sob escaped your chest.

He did that to you. He did that to you. He told the world about his infidelity before he told you. He mangled your heart, and let the world see it before he showed you. It felt like your skin was crawling, everywhere he touched, felt dirty and you were crying so hard, you were nearly gagging and choking.

You forced air into your lungs. You forced yourself to calm down. You didn't get so far in life because you broke at every little thing.

Then again, this wasn't a little thing. You didn't let people into your heart, everyone betrayed you. Even your parents betrayed you, yet, you had met Duncan while you were in law school. He could make you laugh, he made your heart sing. You let him in. He made you believe that love was real again. You married him. You bore his children. You trusted him above all, and this is what he gave you in return. You were right, everyone would betray you, given the chance.

The love you held for him was turning to ash in your mouth. You grabbed the bottle, fucking the glasses, and you took a healthy swig.

You made your way up stairs, refusing to look at all the pictures of you and your family hanging up on the walls. You were afraid you would break looking at them. A family, happy and carefree, built on lies.

You walked into your room, staring at the shared bed. The one that you conceived your children on, the one that was supposed to be sacred. You wondered if he fucked the other one on this bed while you were in London for business five months ago. You took another swig. Thank god for the 70% alcohol by volume on this thing.

You weakly moved to the closet. You flipped on the light, feeling like a monster, no, not a monster, a corpse was in there, waiting for you to make it's grizzly discovery. There was a black box you hid behind your shelves. It was a sacred. It was the shrine you built to your relationship with Duncan. You saved every love letter, every card, memories of your firsts, anything and everything. You pulled it out from it's hiding spot and held it close to your chest. You took another swig before you put the bottle down to hold it closer.

Time didn't hold meaning, who knows how long you were crying as you held that shrine, but you knew that your head hurt when you were done. The house was still silent, and it was beginning to feel more like a tomb than a home. You sniffled and picked up the bottle again, taking another swig.

You grabbed a sweater and headed for the backyard. You got the fire pit ready for a fire, and you tossed a match on top, watching the flames erupt and consume the wood while you felt nothing. You sat down in front of it and gingerly opened the box. On top was the first love letter we ever wrote you. A week after you met him, you got it, and all he could do was gush about how you were the most beautiful woman he had ever met and he needed to know you more.

A faint smile graced your face before the thought crashed through your head. "Not beautiful enough."

You took another swig before you looked at the fire, then at the letter. Your eyes then moved every carefully pack to the fire as the course of action became clear.

With a simple flick of your wrist you pushed the paper into the flames, seeing it consumed. There was no pleasure in this, but a conviction that you had to do this. You had to burn him out like an inflection.

You knew it was dark before you were down with ready the letters and burning each one. You were beyond drunk now, but you didn't care. You just didn't want to feel anything, but your chest still felt like it was physically breaking as you watched the flames lick the air.

You heard footsteps behind you, and you knew who they belonged to. You would always know who they belonged to. He was silent. Was there anything to say.

He came closer cautiously.

"What's this?" he asked softly as he grabbed the corpse of the shrine.

You yanked the box away from him and tossed it to the flames. Better to burn it than to let him defile it further.

"I kept all your old letters in there." You explained coldly, "I saved every letter you wrote me. Every last one, and when I was missing you, or when I was sad, or even when we were fighting, I'd read them and remember how much you love me." You let that hang in the air, and another wave of tears almost broke free, but you reigned it in. "I guess I was wrong though."

"Y/N, please, let m-"

"Don't," you held up your hand to stop him. There was nothing he could say to make this better. "You can stand over there and watch, but you are not making this better." She didn't trust him, she didn't trust herself that she could stay strong not to fall in his arms.

"God," she scoffed and took another drink, "I don't even know who you are."

"Come on, y-"

You held up your hand again, and he stopped. You hated him in this moment, but god did you want him to hug you. You wanted him to make this better, but you knew he couldn't.

"You told the whole fucking world that you brought her into our bed," a tear rolled down your cheek. "You cleared your name, but you have destroyed our lives. You understand that, right?"

"You think I could let them think that I was abusing my position? Y/N, you know what I had to go through with my parents, I can't and won't just stand by and let people tear down my name,," he could hear he was pleading, but you didn't spare him a look.

"Well, God forbid, that someone someone whispers against you!" You lashed out finally looking towards, "They whisper against you, and you have to scream!" You screamed the last part, a sob wracking your body.

He went to hold you and you pushed his hands away, "Don't!" You sobbed, and covered your face. He was helpless to fix this. You both knew that.

Finally, your sobs calmed down, and you looked at him again, that hate burning bright. "You want to know about whispers, Duncan? You want to know about whispers that destroy everything you worked for? I know how you look at my sister," you spat out.

He went to speak, and for the third time, you spoke, "Don't."

"I see how other women look at you. Don't you dare think I'm so naive. I see how they fall for your charms.You are just so goddamn charming. I was willing to write off that that was just you, but you always liked that, didn't you? You like their attention, and you are so fucking obvious sometimes, Duncan. " You had ignored the signs, and for that, you could only be angry at yourself.

You shook your head, and you stood on uneasy legs.

"What are you going to say to the press?"

The question felt like a slap, always caring more about the world than his home.

He felt that hatred hardening in your heart. "Don't worry," you said as you wiped your tears. "I won't say anything. I'll let the world wonder what I did when you broke my heart."

You saw the pain in his eyes, he was crying too. You wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, then to pretend that this was okay. To make him feel better, but what then, of your broken heart?

"You threw this all away, you know that, right?"

"Yes."

Her heart broke, but she had one last thing to say. "You know when the time comes Duncan, when Eva and Jack ask about what happened, why mom and dad aren't together, you are going to have to look them in eyes and explain the pain and the embarrassment you put their mother through? I'm not going to tell them. That is your sin to confess."

You had might as well have slapped him across the face with how he looked at you. "Please, Y/N-"

"Get out," you spoke coldly.

"Ple-"

"Get out of my house!" You screamed. You couldn't stand this anymore.

He stopped and stared at you. Maybe it would have been kinder to slap him than to tell him that based on his face. He whipped his face, and nodded. "Alright, I'll go."

#cody fern #duncan shephard #duncan shephard fanfic #cody fern fanfic #hoc fanfic #my fic

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womburt · 6 years

Text

Scarf: Fred Weasley x reader

In which the reader has a terrible day, but finds comfort in Fred’s scarf

Suggested Song: Simple As This by Jake Bugg

Y/n L/n felt like she was about to break, and it was only noon. She had a crush on her friend, and it was killing her. In her first class, charms, she arrived late, due to sleeping in. Now Y/n wasn’t usually one to sleep to late, but when Fred Weasley is inserted into the equation, things don’t always go as planned. He had somehow convinced her to sneak into his dormitory last night, and they had stayed up for hours talking about nothing. She had eventually gone back to her own bed, but by then it was well into the morning. She couldn’t help but sleep in. All day, she’d been rushing about, tripping all over the place and making messes. As the day progressed, she managed to

1.Spill her freshly brewed potion over Pansy Parkinson

2.Trip and fall on her face in the hallway on her way to class

3.Attempt to demonstrate the spell her transfiguration class was learning, per professor McGonagall’s request, and mess up horribly.

And finally, drop her tools in herbology, the class she was sat in now. Y/n sucked in a breath, and tried to calm herself down. The whole day had been terrible, but she’d never make that obvious to her classmates. Besides, herbology was her last class before lunch, she could do this.

Y/n stood next to her friend Angelina Johnson, who was hyperaware or Y/n’s bad mood, and was trying her hardest not to agitate or upset her friend anymore than she already was. Y/n appreciated Angelina. Y/n stayed quiet for the entire class, worried she’d say something stupid and make her day even worse. When the period eventually came to an end, Y/n took her time packing up to leave. She figured she’d be less likely to make a fool of her self if she wasn’t pushing through crowds of other students. Angelina noticed this, and also slowed down, not wanting to leave Y/n alone.

Y/n finally finished, and stood up to see that the only people who remained in the classroom with her were Angelina and Professor Sprout. Angelina held out her arm, smiling at Y/n. Y/n smiled tiredly back, and linked arms with her friend, letting the athletic girl escort her to lunch. They walked through the courtyard, seeing underclassmen studying in groups, and playing games together. It was cold outside, and Y/n couldn’t help but pull her robes tighter around herself. She cursed under her breath, of course she forgot her scarf too. They finally made it inside the castle, which wasn’t much better, as it was rather cold in there too. Y/n sighed and accepted the fact that nothing would go right today.

The two girls entered the Great Hall and immediately made their way to the Gryffindor table. Although she was a y/h, Y/n had been sitting with her friends at the Gryffindor table since first year. In the beginning, a few students whispered, but no one cared anymore. Their friends were already sitting and eating, all having a good time as well. Y/n took a deep breath and went to sit down by Lee Jordan. Lee had been in the middle of arm wrestling Katie (who was winning) but was quick to throw a flirty remark at the approaching girls. “Angie, Y/n/n, care to come and sit by me? I’m about to beat the legendary Katie Bell, Gryffindor chaser, in a test of strength!” As soon as he finished the statement, Katie slammed his arm down, officially defeating him. Lee let out a cry of surprise and jumped. The rest of the friends erupted into laughter.

Angelina sat down next to Lee, and Y/n followed sitting on his other side. Fred Weasley faced her on the other side of the table. Fred smiled widely at her, and Y/n managed a small grin back, though it didn’t meet her eyes. Fred noticed this, but decided to keep it to himself. Soon after they sat down, Angelina had joined in the conversations, joking around and shoving Lee when he said something dumb. Y/n eventually joined in too, helping Angelina gang up on Lee. It wasn’t long before he was challenging everyone at the table to an arm wrestle. “Come on Angie, lets go! I can take you! Georgie? Come on George, what are you, scared!?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, especially when he challenged her. “Y/n/n lets dance! Come on don’t act like you don’t want to hold me hand anyway, this is your excuse!” Leave it to Lee Jordon to turn a bad day into a bad morning, Y/n became optimistic about how the rest of this Tuesday would play out.

After Y/n turned him down, Lee turned to Fred. “Fredrick I know you want to do this.’ Fred smirked, and after a bit more poking and prodding, he gave in, putting up his arm, and setting his elbow on the table. Lee cheered and grabbed Fred’s hand, his position matching the red-heads’. Angelina laughed before shouting “ready, set, go!” Lee put up a good fight, but was no match for Fred’s upper body strength. No one was shocked, the Weasley twins were beaters after all, and those bludgers are heavy.

Still, Lee made a big deal of losing, pouting and refusing to eat his lunch. Katie laughed and attempted to feed him from across the table. Y/n was laughing along, when she moved her stare to look at Fred, who was smiling. He met her gaze, and she shrugged, eyes darting back over to Lee. Fred’s eyes remained on her for a bit longer before he looked away. Before they knew it, lunch was ending. Y/n had astronomy with Katie next, although Fred and lee had a class right next door, so the four of them usually walked together. Katie and Lee were quick to sand up and lead the way, joking and flirting as they walked. Fred and Y/n followed, keeping pace but leaving a bit of room in between themselves and their friends.

The quartet had to cut through the courtyard to make it to the correct towers, and Y/n was not ready for the chill. She’d forgotten about the cool weather, and so as soon as she stepped outside, she began shivering. Fred was quick to notice this. He had been pulling out his scarf and was about to put it on when he looked over. The lanky teen thought quickly, reaching over and wrapping his scarlet and gold scarf around her neck. Y/n looked up at him in surprise. ‘You looked cold,” he muttered, sucking on his bottom lip, his eyes darting away from hers. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and her face went slightly pink. She was also quick to look away, but not before mumbling “thank you,” and pulling the scarf tighter. Fred hummed in response and peaked over at her through the corner of his eye. He took note of her pink cheeks and growing smile, and he felt his chest tighten.

Fred Weasley felt like he was about to break, and it was only just past noon. He had a crush on his friend, and it was killing him.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred x reader #Harry Potter #x reader #fluff #cold #x reader cold

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obsessive-fics · 6 years

Text

you’re gonna be my wound-chapter three

Title: Something’s Coming

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: T

A/N: Thank you to @yourfriendlyblogstalker for beta reading!

[Read on Ao3]

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter]

It was officially the first day of rehearsal, and Dan couldn’t be more excited. He was still in shock it was even happening. He and Louise had sat down and checked their emails at the same time, and somehow they’d been cast in the lead roles.

Now, here he was, standing on stage as Ms.Jay explained how rehearsals were going to work for the first few weeks. They’d be twice a week, and then during tech week (or hell week, as most theatre kids knew it), they’d have rehearsal every day leading up to the show. It was pretty standard stuff, and at this point, he was just ready to start.

“At our Wednesday rehearsals, we’ll be going over the music- first lyrics, and then choreography, and then both. And on Sundays, we’ll be running scenes,” Ms.Jay continued to explain, pacing the length of the stage. She stopped in the center and clapped her hands. “Alright! Everybody ready?”

The cast voiced their agreement, and rehearsal officially began. They were starting with the bigger group numbers, because those were the hardest to get down. Part of Dan was relieved- there was no way he wanted to rehearse his solos in front of the rest of the cast this early, especially the ones who were still strangers. But he was not excited about learning choreography at all- if he had to choose the part of musical theatre he was the worst at, it’d definitely be learning choreography. Still, it was a necessary evil. He shook himself out of his reverie, and turned his attention back to Ms.Jay.

“Why don’t we run ‘My Junk’ first? That’s always a fun one,” Ms.Jay suggested, nodding to Amy, the pianist, a final year who was conducting the orchestra for the first time this year. Dan had been in a few productions with Amy, and he couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of this than her.

“Okay, let’s start from the top. Louise, you ready?” Ms.Jay asked, turning to her. Louise nodded, and the music started.

In the midst of this nothing, this miss of a life

Still there’s this one thing, just to see you go by

This was one of the songs Dan didn’t have a solo in, so for the most part he sat back and listened to everyone else. They were a little rough, not quite being on the same page yet, but that would be fixed with some rehearsal time together. All the same, they didn’t sound half bad. They got to the interlude, where Hanschen’s Desdemona monologue was meant to be, and Jimmy’s hand shot up.

“Do I have to, you know…?” he asked, turning bright red. He was certainly going to struggle playing Hanschen if he was that easily embarrassed. If there was one thing Hanschen definitely was not, it was self conscious.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you do that on the first day. You’re going to have to eventually though,” Ms.Jay replied pointedly, “let’s take it from Georg’s solo.”

The music started up again, but no one was singing.

“Peej, that’s your part,” Phil whispered, shoving him.

“Oh! Sorry, can we go again?” PJ asked, at least having the decency to look apologetic. It took everything in Dan not to groan out loud. He couldn’t believe this is what they were working with. The music started once again, but this time it seemed PJ was ready.

Well you’ll have to excuse me, I know it’s so off

I love when you do stuff that’s rude and so wrong

As much as it pained Dan to admit it, once he was actually paying attention, PJ wasn’t half bad. He at least had the comedic timing down, which could sometimes be the hardest part. They ran the song a few more times until it actually sounded okay, and then Ms.Jay gave them the option of learning the choreography for “My Junk,” or running another one of the songs. There was an overwhelming amount of enthusiasm for running another song, and Ms.Jay laughed.

“We’re gonna have to get to choreography eventually. I’ll tell you what, let’s run ‘Bitch of Living’ with just the words first, and then we’ll do the choreography for that song,” she suggested, and there were murmurs of agreement all across the stage.

“Let’s get started then.”

Phil was going to be sick. Of all the songs to run, they were going to do the one that started with him having a solo. And then they were going to learn choreography for it. First day of rehearsal, and it was already his worst nightmare. He just had to be ready- he’d seen how annoyed Dan looked when PJ missed his cue, and he was not about to give that guy more reasons to look down on him. He had just as much right to be here as Dan did, and he was going to prove it.

“Alright, Phil, you ready?” Ms.Jay asked, and he nodded. He could do this, he’d be fine. The music started, and he took a deep breath. Now or never.

God I dreamed there was an angel who could hear me through the wall

As I cried out, like in Latin, this is so not life at all

They got through the entirety of the song, thankfully, without anyone missing their cues, but Ms.Jay didn’t look pleased.

“That was… A good start. Phil, can I talk to you a minute? The rest of you, take five and go have some water.”

Phil nodded, and jumped down off stage to stand next to her.

“Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly.

“You look terrified. You look like I used to when my parents made me sing in church,” Ms.Jay said, and then laughed.

“Sorry, I’m trying, I’m just new to this, and I’m try-” Ms.Jay waved a hand, cutting him off.

“I know you’re trying. And I know you’re new to this. I cast you, because you had the same jittery, nervous energy that’s needed to play Moritz. But in a musical, you’re acting even while you’re singing. So you can’t be Phil being forced to sing in front of people. You have to be Moritz, equal parts terrified and enthralled by all these new things happening to your body. You know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Phil agreed. He’d seen the other guys doing it, singing their solos completely in character, but he’d been too scared to try, too focused on not missing his cues and getting the words right.

“You have a great voice, I want you to use it, and to enhance it- physicality is just as important,” Ms.Jay continued.

“I will,” Phil promised. If nothing else, he was definitely going to try. He couldn’t get rid of his stage fright, but he could channel that energy, and make his performance better.

“You can do this,” Ms.Jay said, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. “Now, have some water, and let’s get back to work.”

Dan couldn’t believe he was doing this. Honestly, he should be appointed a saint in his next life for this one act of charity. He’d just seen how nervous and timid Phil was during rehearsal, especially when it got to learning the choreography for “Bitch of Living”. And watching anyone fall off a chair that many times was bound to elicit some pity. So after rehearsal, he walked over to where Phil and PJ were sat together on stage, laughing about something and cleared his throat.

“Can we help you?” Phil asked coldly, looking up at him.

“Look, don’t give me that. I just came over to ask if you wanted to… I don’t know, run our scenes together,” Dan muttered, looking away. God, this was such a stupid idea. He was never doing anything out of the kindness of his heart ever again.

“He would love to!” PJ answered before Phil had a chance to respond. Phil jabbed PJ in the ribs, glaring at him.

“Love is um… a strong word. But I guess it makes sense, right? Since we have so many scenes together. Might as well run them,” he said, shrugging, and would it kill him to have at least a little enthusiasm? Dan didn’t actually have to help him run lines at all. Honestly, he should’ve just let him suffer. But as it was.

“Right. Well, Louise and I usually run lines Saturday afternoons if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.”

“They don’t lock the auditorium, so we’ll meet you here I guess,” Dan continued, and Phil nodded.

“See you Saturday then,” he said, and it was Dan’s turn to nod.

“Saturday,” he repeated for some ungodly reason, and then turned and walked away as quickly as possible. What the hell was wrong with him today?

“What was that about?” Louise asked when he walked back over.

“Um… I may have invited Phil to rehearse with us,” Dan explained, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but he could already see the gears turning in her head.

“Do I detect a showmance?” she asked teasingly.

“You really should watch less of those American high school tv shows,” he replied, shaking his head.

“You didn’t say no,” Louise singsonged.

“No, Louise, this is not a showmance. I don’t even like the guy- he’s got no respect for what we do here. But I want the show to be good, and it won’t be unless he gets some serious help,” Dan told her, but Louise just kept smiling at him knowingly.

“Whatever you say.”

“I hate you,” Dan grumbled, but he still opened the door for her on their way out.

Next Chapter

#phanfiction #Phanfic #phanfic au #phan au

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keepingupwithlinmanuel · 6 years

Text

Lin-Manuel Miranda: ‘Hamilton is an insane idea, but the story works’

“Helen Mirren was one of the first people to see Hamilton,” recalls the 37-year-old Miranda, his voice urgent, conspiratorial. “She saw it very early and I said, ‘If we’re lucky enough to go to London, are they going to be bothered by King George?’ And she said, ‘Nahhh! We love it when you take the piss!’”

Miranda cracks up. “So I’m not worried,” he goes on. “I’m excited.”

...

If Miranda is feeling any pressure about the transfer, he isn’t showing it. On the morning we meet, in the offices of theatrical producer Cameron Mackintosh in Bloomsbury, he bounces into the room, wearing a T-shirt, jeans and running shoes, all blue. The ponytail and goatee he had on stage in New York have been clipped and it has the effect of making him look two centuries younger. Miranda is a prolific tweeter and he has provided regular updates on the new production since arriving in the UK in late November. After the first run-through, he wrote: “London, gird your heart. This company is not playing around.” A couple of days earlier, he gushed: “This company is so fuhuuucking good.”

None of the cast is a household name: Jamael Westman, one of a pair of Alexander Hamiltons, graduated from Rada last year and this is just his fourth credit. “It’s a similar mix of vets and newcomers as we had in our original company on Broadway,” says Miranda, who has no plans to step into Hamilton’s blouse and breeches in this run. “I can’t wait for London audiences to get in front of this show. I’m curious how certain things will play: there’s a couple of New Jersey jokes and I’m like, ‘That’s going to be huge…’” Miranda rolls his eyes.

...

From the beginning, Hamilton has had a political agenda if you scratch the surface. The first time Miranda performed any material from the musical in public was in May 2009, when he was asked by the Obamas to participate in an evening celebrating “the American experience” at the White House. When the approach was made, the expectation was that Miranda would sing something from his debut musical, In the Heights. This was a semi-autobiographical tale of growing up on a multicultural block in New York that had won four Tony awards, best musical among them.

Instead, Miranda tried out “16 hot bars about Alexander Hamilton”. There’s YouTube evidence of the performance and it’s clear that Miranda, who’d never met the president before, is nervous; well, as nervous as Miranda ever gets, which is not especially. Still, in his introduction to the song, there’s more “ums” than usual and even a little stammering. When he explains the concept, people, including the Obamas, giggle, not sure if they should take him seriously.

“Yeah, it was really scary and it’s a little bit like showing the ultrasound at five weeks,” says Miranda. “I had a lot of people look at me like I was crazy for a very long time. I mean, you can kind of see the reaction in miniature at the White House. I state what I’m going to do and everyone just laughs at me. And I go, ‘You laugh but it’s true!’ Just trying to keep my cool, because I’m also performing in front of the leader of the free world for the first time in my life. And then you see people get sucked into the story. Then their heads start bobbing. And that’s been the story of Hamilton: it’s been an insane idea but the story works. The story is compelling, it’s a human one. And yeah, that’s that.”

For a piece of art that was “the musical of the Obama era”, according to the New Yorker, the Trump years were always going to present some challenges. The aftermath of the statement to Mike Pence was especially uncomfortable. “When the president sends a tweet he’s also sending trolls and bots your way,” says Miranda. “It is a way of targeting, so we had to deal with death threats for several weeks and we had to wait for that kerfuffle to blow over. So we lived through it. There was a bit of a pendulum swing, right; we were beloved by the Obama administration; we’re really not beloved by the current administration.”

Did Miranda consider putting “Highly overrated: Donald Trump” on the Hamilton poster? “Haha!” he replies. “There are certainly those who would wear that with a badge of pride, but I would not trade it for the stress of those weeks. These are just not normal times. We have a president who targets people and goes after them and that’s really without precedent and scary, but that’s where we are.”

Miranda, though, does not shy away from a fight, either. When Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico in September, killing at least 500 people and destroying the electrical grid, he was furious at Trump for his inaction. While the president quickly offered reassurance and funds to Texas and Florida after the natural disasters that affected those states, he was much quieter about Puerto Rico, which is an unincorporated US territory. Nearly three months on, a third of the island remains without power. Miranda’s response was to tweet Trump: “You’re going straight to hell.”

“What does that tell the people of Puerto Rico about the person who is supposedly in charge?” he asks. “Those are 3.5m American citizens. So that’s when the rhetoric is heartbreaking: you know relief could come with one signing of the pen and it’s just not. Because he doesn’t care.”

Miranda, who has raised $2.5m for the relief effort from a charity song, also recently announced that he would be taking a production of Hamilton to Puerto Rico in early 2019. He did a similar tour in 2010 with In the Heights and it remains one of his proudest achievements. “I find it hard to talk about it without tearing up,” he says and it’s true, he looks like he might cry. “Growing up, I’d get sent to Puerto Rico for a month a year where I was the kid with a fucked-up Spanish accent who couldn’t really speak it well enough to hang with kids my age. I was like the weird exchange kid. I loved Puerto Rico, but I never felt at home with it. Then to have In the Heights be embraced in English, the way I wrote it, it closed some hole in me that I didn’t know was open.”

These are manic, sometimes confounding times for Miranda. Hamilton took the best part of six years to write but now life seems to be happening in fast-forward. So far, he has only been accepting offers “that are just so bonkers that you’d kick yourself for ever if you didn’t jump at the chance to do them”. These have included a pivotal cameo in the new season of Curb Your Enthusiasm and a six-month spell in London to shoot a lead role in Mary Poppins Returns, which will be released Christmas next year. The film is directed by Rob Marshall (Chicago) and stars Emily Blunt as the umbrella-wielding hero, as well as Meryl Streep, Colin Firth, Ben Whishaw and Emily Mortimer.

“Poppins was both incredibly hard work and sort of this joyous vacation,” says Miranda. “Because I had just been in Hamilton-mania in the States, it was starting to get to the point where I couldn’t ride the train without having a conversation about Hamilton. So the only sane response is to chop off all your hair and leave the country. I was really very anonymous here and that was a wonderful thing to reclaim, to ride the tube around and take my kid to Lady Di park. To sort of do normal things was wonderful, because it was getting weird. Like, famous-person weird.”

This is just the tip of it. The Weinstein Company had optioned the film rights to In the Heights, so Miranda is endeavouring to extricate himself from that. (“So monstrous,” he says. “I met Harvey several times. I knew he was never going to win a nice-guy competition, but I didn’t know about all of this other stuff.”) Miranda’s first child, Sebastian, was born two weeks before rehearsals for Hamilton started in 2014 and he revealed last week that his wife Vanessa Nadal, a corporate lawyer, is expecting their second. He would also like to start work on a new musical, but he probably just needs to lie in a pool to figure out what the subject is.

“You’re right,” he exclaims, “I should take more vacations, thank you! Yeah, that is the hardest lesson to take hold of: the good idea comes when you are walking your dog or in the shower or resting. And waking up from sleep. I don’t believe it’s an accident that on my first vacation from In the Heights, the best idea of my life shows up. So I have a couple of ideas, but I’m waiting to see which one grabs hold and doesn’t let go.”

Until then, Miranda will keep on doing what he’s done every day since Hamilton opened in New York in early 2015: field requests for tickets for the show. In London, it is sure not to be any different. Miranda made some good friends here when he was filming Mary Poppins Returns –Whishaw and the chef Yotam Ottolenghi among them – and he is excited for them to see the show. Otherwise, there’s only so much he can do. “People tweeting me, ‘I can’t believe I paid $2,000,’” he says. “I didn’t charge you $2,000! I don’t know why you paid that.”

What about the royal family? “Oh, I’ll give Prince Harry some engagement tickets, that would be an absolute treat,” Miranda smiles. “Obviously that would be an honour for us.” Let’s just hope he isn’t too offended by the portrayal of his great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather.

#lin manuel miranda #hamilton #mary poppins #puerto rico #articles #interviews #the guardian

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crimsonrevolt · 6 years

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Congratulations Katie you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Molly Weasley

↳ please refer to our character checklist

It’s always so nice to see our members take up a new muse and we’re absolutely thrilled that you chose to bring Molly to life when she is such a beloved character of us all! Choosing between two apps is always hard but the way that you made both her feistiness and warmth so obvious really won us over. From the questions to the tag it’s obvious that you have a strong voice for Molly and that is absolutely something that we look for. We got such a clear idea of how she was as a mother as well as the toll that the war was taking on her and how she is dealing with it from your para sample and we honestly can’t wait to see what you do with her on the dash! *your faceclaim to Sarah Drew has been accepted

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Katie, 26, she/her, PST

ACTIVITY

6ish - I work full time, however will be able to be on most evenings for a few hours at a time, and at least daily to do replies

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Current Member

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

Hermione was always my favorite as she was a strong female for me to identify with at an early age. She was intelligent and capable of anything she put her mind to. Plus, her loyalty to those who’s morals she aligned with is something that all should use as a role model.

ANYTHING ELSE?

N/A

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Molly Weasley

FACE CLAIM

Sarah Drew

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

To be honest, when I first started to RP in the Marauder world, my first character was Molly. The fiery mother lion who could be mischievous in her own accord but at the end of the day held everyone around her to a higher standard. It was because of Molly that I fell in love with RPing. I enjoyed developing the protective relationship that she had with her brothers as well as her falling in love with Arthur. Though obviously, this Molly is a fresh start from that one I do see her still having that fierce, overprotective love for her brothers and family, and even in the dark of times, trying to bring a bit of light to the world. She’s quick to love people, though also quick to cut ties when crossed. A lover and a fighter, she has the biggest heart that anyone can come across.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Arthur/Molly obviously, I mean how can you not love those two. Molly is a deep romantic who just wants to love and be loved. She cares deeply and is the kind of person to enchant objects around the house to sing love songs to him as he walks about. She identifies as female and the use of she/her

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Here is her character tag, which includes a mood board I created for Molly

http://kellirps.tumblr.com/tagged/char%3A-molly-weasley

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“Changing of Diapers. Though I love my children dearly, I can barely stomach having to change them. Let them scream from the top of their lungs till the banshee’s think that they are one of their own and I would be a hundred percent okay. But changing a diaper, my stomach just rolls. The charm would simply clean the mess up without anyone having to lift a finger. It would wipe, and change the cloth, making the mess disappear.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“I’d grab either of my brothers, whichever of them came walking by first. My first instinct was to bring Arthur, but in reality, someone would have to stay behind and take care of the kids. And the last thing I would want is for us both to get stranded out there and never make it back to the kids. So instead, I’d take the back up knights in shining armor. Object wise… a thick, oversized sweater. Just big enough that I can use it to keep warm, hide in, and in the unfortunate event of medical treatment being needed it can help with stitches as well as stopping blood.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“Surprisingly, what to make for dinner, especially in this day and age. I should really make it something more complex, but with five boys all hating something different, dinner is the hardest. I have to think about each of them and if they’ll eat it and then if I’ll eat it. Thank Merlin Arthur eats whatever is put in front of him, and smiles even if it’s terrible.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

“That I’m a terrible mother or friend. I care too much about the people who I do consider friends and family, and to hear that I’m not showing them the amount of love that they think they should receive.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

Molly would be doing her best to keep it together. Being in the castle with the rest of the Order gives her something to do and keep her mind off of things, but none the less she still struggles every now and then. Most people can’t notice, but there are still some that can see through it with how she handles her children. All she can do is continue to push everyone to be better and get better and at times, she wishes she could do more to rid the world of darkness.

WRITING SAMPLE

Stop fussing. It was something that Molly had heard for as long as she could remember. She heard it from her brothers, her sister, Arthur, even her parents had told her to stop fussing a time or two. But here she was, fussing.

She had cleaned the castle from top to bottom twice. She had made enough food for dinner to feed a small army, which technically the Order was. She had given lessens to the boys and rocked Fred and George to sleep countless times. And now all that she could do was fuss.

As she sat on her knees brushing the Prewett red hair out of her face, Molly sighed and leaned forward to scrub at the stone floor again. What her husband and family referred to as fussing she thought of as cleaning. Or nesting. She had heard someone say it one when talking about how birds create a nest for their eggs. She was nesting. She was creating a new home for her family and extended family. These people were in charge of protecting her husband and siblings, the least she could do was make sure they came home to a warm meal and castle that shined due to how clean it was.

Molly knew that with five boys she couldn’t quite stand on the battle lines with her family and friends. She was needed by them. She was forced to stay behind. Say goodbye and cry as she hoped she’d say hello again. Yet even though she knew her job in the order was to do something other than fight the ever waging war she still felt the need to do something. Something that would matter. Something that would give these people that she cared about a sense of home. And so she fussed.

She fussed about their wounds. She fussed about if they ate enough. She fussed over dirty laundry over dirty rooms. She fussed over foul mouths and over drinking. She fussed over those that she loved. It was how she could sleep at night. Fussing is what made Molly feel needed, and if they were going to be soldiers in a war that they never thought that they would need to fight then she sure as hell would fuss.

#molly weasley #sarah drew fc #hp rp #harry potter roleplay #harry potter rp

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aintshitbiz · 4 years

Text

Jashi Bands Exclusive 1 on 1 w/ BreezySays | @jashitheyetti

Jashi Bands is just your friendly neighborhood Puerto Rican rapper from the Bronx. His music mostly touches on mental health including his own and those around him. He failed out of college senior year and moved back home to find what he wanted to do with his life.

Welcome to Mollie's World (The Breezy Says Hot Seat), Jashi Bands

BS: What’s your name and tell us a little bit about yourself. JB: My name is Joshua Toledo. Just your friendly neighborhood Puerto Rican from Bronx, NY born and raised. I’m a big big nerd when it comes to anime, comics and other cartoons. Raised by my mom, grandmother and step dad. I have two little sisters. BS: Where are you from? And what affect does that have on your music? JB: I’m from NYC which is a huge influence on my writing style, my motivation for the music, the type of sound my music has and the experiences I choose write about. BS: What was highest and lowest point in your career? JB: I don’t have either of those yet since I’m still building the foundation for everything. The journey feels like climbing a mountain at this point. Every new accomplishment, such as a music video, new merch product, and song everyone loves is another ledge for me to grab onto to climb. BS: How do you separate your personal life from your music life and how does how does the music industry affect your personal life? JB: Right now in my career the two go hand in hand. I’m a newer act so it’s my responsibility to create content to engage with fans and make them feel like they’re a part of the process. So they will want to see me in the studio, at the concert, and/or giving my opinion on something. Since I’m an independent and building my fanbase, the only thing I can say about the music industry is that it’s definitely weird for someone like me, whose a private person around strangers, to be sharing all this personal content that isn’t the music. I find trouble crossing the line between keeping things private and putting on IG live for all to see. These are weird times. BS: What project/track means the most to and which project/track are you proudest of? JB: I think it changes with every song I make. Some tracks I really love but I know the public won’t ever hear. So I may love it but it’s not something I can put out and say “Yeah I put my all into that track. I’m proud of the way it came out.” A lot of people like "Smile" off my first mixtape and I have some tracks in the truck for my upcoming album. BS: Let's talk about your latest record/visual " If You Disagree" BLM...what made you take a stand and show your support? JB: The answer is simple, I have empathy for my people. Anyone with any resemblance of empathy and a brain can see the racial tension and injustice built up over YEARS. I was in 2nd grade when Sean Bell was shot 51 one times. The newspaper was taped up to our closets and I remember thinking, “that’s a lot of bullets for someone on his way to his wedding.” I was six. A big problem with today is the numbness we as a collective in this country choose to take part when racial or socioeconomic injustice occurs. Most of us continue with our day with “thoughts and prayers”. We go to work, take care of our kids, hang out with friends etc. We talk about these incidents, debate even, but until recently, not much radical action was being taken and this isn't to put blame on anyone (except capitalism.) I decided to write “If You Disagree” because an anger would build inside of me when I would debate with an ignorant individual about the BLM matters. Because anger built inside of me from seeing the actions of policemen/women against my people. Tear gas, beating people senseless on camera and even the saboteurs who loot to give the protestors a bad name. It also inspired me to see BS: There is a general consensus that Latinos don't support the Black struggle, where do you think that comes from? JB: To be honest, I think it goes both ways. Both the Latino and Black communities seek support from each other because we all have Black blood in our veins and racists see us the same anyway. The disconnect happens when ignorant Latino’s, for lack of a better term, act up. Some Latino’s believe they aren’t black and then carry that ignorance with pride. In my opinion those ignorant Latino’s are few and far between. Every Hispanic friend or family member I know supports the movement and acknowledges the black struggle. However, there Latino’s that feel the Black community doesn’t reciprocate support we give them in times like these. There was no rioting or protestors for the Hispanic kids ICE detention. There’s no protests for the kids that went missing under ICE custody. I’ve had Latino friends and family members express that when something like a George Floyd or Trayvon Martin happens, the Latino community is right there to back them up; however when something tragic is happening/happens to us there's mass tweets about it, but there’s no protests etc. You also have to take into account that the Hispanics who aren’t born here or didn’t go to school in America aren’t taught about the Black plight in their schools, so they might be ignorant to it when they move over here.

LET'S PAUSE AND CHECKOUT "If You Disagree" [BLM]

youtube

BACK TO THE HOT SEAT

BS: What type of feedback have you been getting since the release of this project? JB: A lot of people loved it. They loved the message and the visuals from the protests. Several of my friends who went to the protests and dealt with being maced and tear gassed all loved the song. BS: How do you plan to keep supporting the movement? JB: Keep signing petitions and donating to bail out those who’ve been arrested at protests. I would go to the protests myself but if I catch covid and bring it home, my family might NOT be able to fight it and I can’t take that risk. BS: What is the hardest part of the music industry? JB: Getting into it. It’s definitely a grind as an unsigned talent who’s trying to make their own way in the game. You have to find your sound, build your fan base, learn new flows, pay for studio time, pay for videos, and pay for promotion etc. All while trying to live your normal life. As a creative in general it always feels like you’re balancing plates on sticks, like in the cartoons. BS: What are your thoughts on how the rap game has changed? JB: A lot of it has changed for the good because now there's more money in it, it’s easier to put music out, and a lot easier to build your fan base thanks to social media etc. Unfortunately, those same reasons changed the game for the worse. Since it’s so easy to start a music career, there is a plethora of artists who sound the same, and don’t really do it for the love of the process or the game. Since there is more money involved it brings anyone and everyone with a mic and auto tune. The Music Industry is just one of those situations where you have to take the good with the bad. BS: Who or what has the biggest impact on your career? JB: I would say my best friend who I grew up with since Kindergarten and my late grandmother. He’s my biggest supporter and critic. If my music doesn’t impress him then I have to go back to the lab. My grandmother was a such pillar of support, love and strength and when she passed my heart broke in 100 ways. All that pain is channeled into my lyrics. BS: What can we look forward to seeing in the future from you? JB: I am working on an album with no title as of right now. I’m also working on new merchandise ideas and clothing to put out. To stay tuned follow me on all my socials.

Connect with Jashi Bands

Youtube | Instagram | Twitter | Soundcloud | Facebook

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adhd-ahamilton · 7 years

Note

P R

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an "architect"or a "gardener"? (How much do you plan in advance, versusletting the story unfold as you go?)

Hmmm... like all writers, I’m somewhere in between the twoextremes, but I feel like I lean more architect, and am certainlytrying to lean more that way as I practice writing.

When I first come up with ideas, it’s full gardener - I just sitback and imagine things and let the scenario take me where it takesme. It might go on for a whole multi-scene storyline, it might justbe a short disconnected snippet I can insert somewhere, it mightkinda peter out unsatisfyingly for me to revisit later. A lot ofthese ideas come from me asking question or thinking about other ficand just imagining in my head.

But, once I decide that I like an idea enough to write it, I tryto go architect. One of the things I’ve been trying to do more is,like... be more deliberate in my writing? An ethos I’m trying toreally stick to is ‘the writer is in full control of theirstory and takes full responsibility for what happens in it.’ I canwrite literally ANYTHING if I want. And that’s daunting, but Ithink remembering that saves people from falling back on lazy,harmful cliches and things, because ‘that’s where the storywas going!’ Because we’re never really gardeners, in the end?Stories don’t have an existence outside of people. If it’s anidea that comes to me, it comes from my brain in the end, subject toall the unconscious assumptions and biases that all brains are proneto.

And the more I write the more I try to really challenge myself tothink about what I’m doing and try for better. What is theatmosphere like in this scene? How is the pacing for this characterdevelopment? Is the wording in this important line the best it canbe? I really try to look at it and analyse it and pay attention towhat’s going on, and not be afraid to rewrite things if I’m notsatisfied with them. Which sometimes means stepping back - ifI really can’t get a certain line or paragraphworking, there’s probably a larger problem at hand here.

But, at the end, there’s got to be some gardening too - I do tryto get myself in the flow of writing within scenes, and evenscene-to-scene if I can (which is why my biggest pauses are betweenstories and when I have to edit - the first draft itself tends to getwritten pretty quickly), and I’m always looking for ways thatthings can come out of the writing that I never expected from theplans. And I’m not afraid to leave some blank parts in my plans tofigure out once I’m in that writing flow and will be able to sensewhat’s right to go there. (Not for any important scenes, though -just the ‘okay so they hang out a bunch here and get closertogether as friends, while bonding over their shared homeland’ andstuff like that.)

I dunno, maybe I got off-topic there, haha? But I could definitelynever start writing a fic without knowing how it would end. The onlychaptered fic I’ve ever done I wrote the first draft to begin withand just posted the chapters as I finished editing them, and the lasttime I wrote something without visualising how it’d all gobeforehand (‘Love’), I ended up having to rewrite half of it,which could’ve been avoided if I’d just sat down and worked outthe emotional thread beforehand.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Hmmm difficult question! Honestly I really like to analyse stuffas I read it, trying to work out why it’s doing what it’s doingand what effect it’s having on me and why, so in a sense I’minfluenced by everything I read – I like to pick and choose thingsI like and come up with cool new ideas that way. But, there hasdefinitely been some concrete examples!

For starters, Publius-esquire and madtomedgar. I just adore allthe writing they’ve done for this period. First of all, the toneand atmosphere of it is perfect, blending in historical details andwords so that it feels authentic without being difficult tounderstand or feeling shoehorned in. And I love the characterisation– how everyone’s both flawed and sympathetic and gets to feelreal emotions and express them, positive and negative. But most ofall I was just captivated with this writing style of kind of…putting out little ficlets like puzzle pieces, each only covering asmall scene themselves and not generally resolving anything major,but serving as part of a wider picture, so that when you read throughit you can see so many different plot and characterisation threadsdeveloping and slowly changing over time. I first really liked thiswriting style in Mad Men, and then Steven Universe funnily enough,where writers could just… let things happen, and not expect everysingle episode or arc to bring total resolution to a storyline.

And I’ve been really strongly influenced by Ciceroprofacto aswell. The amount of detail they put into their work is justincredible, and although I can’t reach that myself, I have alwaystried to learn from them and work in more of the everyday elementswhich I initially avoided because I was worried about gettingsomething wrong. But they make such a difference! Before I read Songof Alexander I had such a hard time getting Laurens’ personalitydown – he definitely seemed like he’d be the hardest character towrite, to me. I found it really hard to square his self-esteem issuesand tendency to worry with his boldness and hot-headedness, butseeing him in the context of the army and the war, where all of hisdifferent personality traits could really shine, has helped meunderstand him so so much better. They’ve had the hugest impact onmy interpretation of any character (though I will say Madtomedgar hada significant impact on my Laurens as well).

In terms of original writing… lmao this is terrible for a writerbut I barely read nowadays? Especially since I had a really badconcentration spell for a few months there where I could honestlybarely even read fic, like I’d get four paragraphs in and my eyeswould start getting blurry, it was awful. (And really boring!!!) Butit’s getting better now actually and I actually finished a RealBook recently so that’s great!! (Tho I still have like 11 currentlyunfinished books to go according to Goodreads RIP) But I definitelydo have some authors that stick out. I absolutely adore the wayAndrew Hussie utilises language – like no matter what he’swriting, it always has a completely distinct tone that is immediatelyrecognisable, and he can flip back and forth between comedy andtragedy and tragi-comedy at the drop of the hat, not to mentionhaving a serious knack for really well-crafted phrases. I’dabsolutely love if I could develop that kind of skill, and be able toweave my own really distinct, evocative style. And uhh I really likedLionel Shriver’s writing and the way she was able to make the mostmundane things sound really interesting with just reallyinterest-packed sentences and really insightful side comments, untilher shitty politics put me off reading more of her work. :/

And ugh there’s honestly probably a lot more but I can’t thinkof anyone else to single out off the top of my head and I’vewritten too much already so I think I’ll end it here;;;

Thanks for asking! (Sorry about the wait, I’ve been a lil’busy and these questions gave me a lot to think about!! :D)

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