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wisteria-blooms · 2 years

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long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (15/15) *complete*

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

CHAPTER 15: The day before Bill is set to depart for Egypt, you are torn between two thoughts: to convince him to stay or to let him go. Luckily, help and love come from the unlikeliest of places. (8.5k words) TAG LIST MOVED TO THE BOTTOM!

A/N: Thank you guys for following along on this ride! It's certainly been a fun one. I'm grateful for all your comments and feedback; it really inspires me to write more. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the ending! Of course, feel free to leave any thoughts. (:

CHAPTER 15: THAT'S ALRIGHT WITH ME

Being back at Malfoy Manor wasn’t favourable either. You’d have rather hopped on a train somewhere and disappeared into the forest to be left alone with your thoughts. However, this was better than being confined with Fred and George and being teased relentlessly about Bill. Every question they had pushed you to the precipice of admitting the truth and you didn’t want them to hear it. If anything, you wanted Bill to hear first.

“(Y/N)!” Narcissa exclaimed when you walked in the doors just before lunch. She was dressed like she was going out to town later this afternoon. “What are you doing here?”

“I can tell you’re absolutely delighted by my presence.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I am,” Narcissa corrected, her left hand gliding on the stair railing as she descended the steps. “I just wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“I’d like to spend a night or two here before,” you stammered, “the big move.”

“Well, it is your home.” Narcissa pursed her lips. “And speaking of the move, your father wants to see if you need an extension on that lease on the penthouse. We can’t imagine Shell Cottage is very comfortable in the winter.”

“Yeah,” you responded non-committedly.

“Are you joining us for lunch?” she inquired on the last step down.

“I already ate,” you lied. That was enough to satisfy your mother’s question.

“Then we’ll see you at dinner,” she said, passing you and turning the corner. “I’ll have Dobby prepare another seat.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

When your mother was out of sight, you ran up the stairs and turned the corner to your room. You flung the door open to your room and the weight of the past week hit you like an avalanche. You scrunched your face, trying to alleviate the tingle in your nose that you knew all too well—there were tears behind your eyes.

Your mind reeled back to the pleasant memories you shared with Bill, trying to look for little hints and clues. There had to be a flicker of love in those eyes, even if they were just for a split second. Maybe you were a fool for convincing yourself of it because it was clear that Bill didn’t care; he was moving back to Egypt and didn’t consult you or offer the courtesy of letting you know. You. Didn’t. Matter. The weight of that thought was cruel and punishing on your heart.

What was holding him back? Why shouldn’t he fall in love with you?

Then you realized.

Most people started off a new relationship revealing just bits of themselves—little fragments—and kept their skeletons tucked in the closet. You, however, sped full force ahead, running all the lights because the thought of falling in love with Bill never crossed your mind. You dove headfirst and put the bad and ugly on full display like it was a theatre show. You picked apart your family at every given chance, only to realize too late, when you’d irreversibly fallen for him, that he was searching for someone kind and familial. While he was cherishing time with his siblings, you were picking fights with Draco and your cousins. You felt sick.

Bill was probably ready to settle down, probably ready to have children of his own. You were still a child, directionless and going about your days with no goal in end. How could he like someone who bar-hopped with his younger brothers every summer? You were also barely four years in the working world, Bill was teetering on thirteen. Age, especially the gap between you and Bill, was never an issue for you and you’d never even thought about it. Now combing through all the reasons Bill wouldn’t like you back, it was blaring red.

You laughed blithely. It was your fault. You had fucked it up. You felt the first tears pooling in your eyes. Just a little, you promised. Then you’d stop crying.

You scooted over to look for the tissues in the drawer, but instead, your fingers found Bill’s letter he’d sent the morning after the first dinner. That fated dinner felt like yesterday and ages ago all at once. You were never going to get that back, the first meeting, the comfortable friendship you’d built with Bill. If he mentioned he was trotting off to Egypt back then, you wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. Now, things were complicated beyond repair.

Against better judgement, you began to read.

‘My love….’

Instantaneously, you came to a devastating realization that you’d never hear those words out of his mouth. And the thought of that burst the damn. There were hot tears running down your face now. You tried to keep quiet, but your heart amplified what you felt: sheer pain.

The one thing abating the pain was you letting yourself go and dissolving into a cathartic mess. Bill Weasley had reduced you to a lovesick fool and you’d sworn you’d let no man do it.

Feeling uncomfortable after sitting on the ground for so long, you moved up from the carpeted floor to the bed. You reached from the tissues on the nightstand and just laid there, twitching as sporadic sobs racked your body. You remained immobile otherwise, the net result of two opposing forces acting on you: one, telling you to go to Bill, and the other advising you to let it go.

Let him go.

It was probably hours that you’d cycled through napping and crying. You fancied daydreams where you pretended your bed was the same bed you slept in Nice, and that you’d never left the comfort of being by Bill’s side, of being close to him and the water. When you woke up to a different room than you envisioned, you grimaced and cried. In between, you had dreams of someone calling your name repeatedly.

The sun was low when you’d woken up for the umpteenth time. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you knew they were probably red and swollen. You still heard calls for your name, and you quickly realized you weren’t dreaming.

“What are you doing in there?” a sharp voice called from outside the door. “Didn’t you hear the call for dinner?”

You sat paralyzed. It was Draco.

“I’ll come later!” you yelled. The last person you wanted to reveal your weakened state to was your menace of a brother.

“We’ve been calling you for the last half hour!” he stated impatiently. “What’s wrong with you? Come down for supper.”

You panicked. You really didn’t want to be questioned or seen by anyone right now. “I’m fine! Go on, eat without me!”

Draco knocked again. “I don’t believe you one bit. Let me in!”

“I’m fine!” you repeated. “Mind your own business!”

“I gave you a fair enough warning. I’m opening the door.”

“I swear I will kill you if you do,” you threatened.

He jangled the doorknob with more force. “Then open it yourself! You’re acting like a petulant child, (Y/N)!”

The will to fight with him was leaving your body. You were tired, beaten down, and parched for water and even someone to confide in. You didn’t imagine it’d be Draco, but at some point, you needed to let someone in and offer you guidance. You pushed yourself off the bed, your head feeling heavier than the rest of your body. You trundled the steps to the door and opened it slowly.

As if it were a joke, you looked at Draco with your tear-stained face, bloodshot eyes, mussed hair, and forced a wide smile. “Happy?” You knew he’d mock you endlessly, and this front was the best way to shield yourself against it.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but you didn’t expect Draco to take a step back. The snarl on his face quickly dissolved into a soft expression of surprise.

He had swallowed whatever he had wanted to say and instead asked, “What’s wrong?”

Your tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, obviously.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I haven’t seen you cry for ages. Not since you broke your leg at Hogwarts after that stunt you tried pulling with your friends.”

“I was fine,” you murmured. “Same difference.”

He asked, without missing a beat, “Does it have to do with Weasley?”

You feebly shook your head.

Draco peered at you in disbelief.

A sob in your throat threatened to rise and manifest into a cry. You urged Draco into the room. “Shut the door,” you demanded.

Draco closed the door behind him and walked in. “You’re lying. I always know when you’re lying,” he immediately fired. “Much like I always know when you’re upset about something, or who it’s about—”

He stopped when your nose scrunched up again. Flustered, and probably not used to dealing with a crying sister or crying women in general, he grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and handed it over to you.

“So, it is Weasley,” he concluded.

You said nothing. You found it hard to honest with him; there was little trust with how often you went behind each other’s backs. But at some point, both of you needed to let your walls down and get to root of it all—you were siblings, after all.

“I take that as a yes,” he finished for you. “What happened? Has he not been treating you well?”

“No,” you blew into the tissue, “he’s moving.”

“Where? The cottage?”

“Egypt.”

“Egypt?” Draco repeated incredulously, then whispered under his breath, “What the fuck?” He looked back at you. “Is this a joke? I’m trying to be serious here with you, (Y/N). So, quit joking around.”

You looked at him with bleary eyes and shook your head. “I’m serious. I wish I wasn’t.”

“Have you discussed this together?” Draco continued. “That’s a rather large decision to make without your input.”

“He doesn’t need my input,” you said as you squeezed your eyes shut, wringing out more tears. “I officially do not matter to him.”

Draco looked at you, puzzled. “What do you mean? Have you broken up?”

You shook your head and paused for a while. You were fighting with yourself to tell Draco the truth, but there was still a chance that he’d be a righteous ass about it. Your resolve to rekindle your relationship could easily backfire on you. But the genuine look on his face swayed your decision.

“It means you were right. It was all a farce because I didn’t want to date Crabbe and I wanted to get mother and father off my back at the same,” you admitted with a grimace, cracking one eye open to gauge his expression. When he remained quiet, you continued.

“So, yeah,” you finished with a hiccup. “We’re not actually together.”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed his arm. “Don’t tell them please,” you pleaded weakly. “Mother and father.”

Draco shook his head and stared at you. “I can’t believe it.”

“I know.” You fell back on the bed. “I think we did too good of a job, didn’t we? I’ve even persuaded myself to be in love with him.”

“No,” Draco corrected. “Truthfully, I thought I was mistaken near the end, in France. The beginning was a different story. I saw you kicking him under the table and his arm fly up.” He smiled when he saw you laugh through your clogged nose—at least his commentary was taking your mind off things. “You’re also an awful liar.”

“That’s because we’re family,” you explained. You motioned from your eyes to his with two fingers. “I’ve been your sister forever. I also know when you lie. I’ve been observing you for twenty-one years. I know you wet your bed when you were six, when we shared a bed in Switzerland, so don’t try blaming it on me again.”

A rare smile snaked its way on his face, then fell again. “I,” he looked away, embarrassed. “I know we haven’t had the best relationship the past couple of years.”

“And whose fault was that?”

Draco paused, not used to taking the blame for anything. So, you took the chance to speak to him, sibling to sibling. “I’ve never stopped caring for you, you know. You’re my little brother.” Your voice caught. “I could never imagine being cruel to you, but at times, it was the only way to talk to you.”

“I… somewhere along the lines, I was….” He paused, a glitch in this new sentimental and human Draco. “Too uptight and thought you were smearing the family name with who you associated with.” He shuffled a little. “But you’re my sister, you’ve always been there for me, whether it was sticking up for me in front of our parents or getting Pansy off my back. So, I’m….”

“You’re?” you egged, the corner of your lips lifting.

“I’m sorry.”

He obviously wasn’t used to these foreign words rolling off his tongue, but you accepted his apology regardless. You knew he meant it.

You peered up at him. “Truce?”

He nodded. “Truce.”

Then he added, “And I wasn’t serious about Crabbe. Even I find him revolting. Truthfully, I haven’t talked to him in years. I was mortified to have that goof as a friend.”

“You don’t want Crabbe as your brother-in-law?” you pressed.

Draco made a face. “I would actually hope you’d get disowned if that ever happened. You’re miles above him in any sort of league.”

“I don’t know,” you said, fiddling with your hair. “Father seems to approve of him.”

Draco’s face contorted in disgust at the thought of Crabbe as family. “Whatever happens with Weasley, just know you’re too good for him, too. If he fucks up, then it’s his loss.”

“You’re serious?”

“Have I ever said anything so nice to you?”

“Never!”

You propelled yourself off the bed. “Can I have a—?” you asked, reaching your arms out.

Before you could finish, Draco rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug. He was a little stiff and robotic, but it felt just like the old days.

“Don’t expect this all the time,” he scoffed, one of his hands giving you a pat on the back of your head. He looked up at the ceiling in embarrassment. “It’s only because you’re upset.”

“I will expect one every day from now on,” you mumbled, heart bursting with love for your baby brother. It felt good to have him back just like things were. “Three every day if Bill moves to Egypt.”

“He’s not moving,” Draco reiterated, his voice holding firm. “Not if you have anything to do with it.”

You reached up to ruffle his perfect blonde hair. You were so glad you’d come home first. At home, you’d realized, there was always someone’s arms to cry into. Most of the times, it was your mother’s, but you welcomed change.

You sprinted in record time to the penthouse entrance after arriving at the gardens outside of it. Draco’s words renewed your confidence and pointed you in the right direction. There was no way you’d let Bill leave without him knowing how you felt. And Draco had affirmed that it was his loss if you he let you go. Bill’s loss. He was losing you, not vice versa.

You were hoping to catch Bill at home before he departed to the Burrow. You might’ve still gone there, but to have to confess your feelings to him within earshot of his family would be something you’d never live down.

You rushed past the concierge in hot pursuit for the speaker. You pressed one palm flush against the cool metal, the other finger shaking as you hammered down the numbers to connect to his suite. A voice responded after you hit the call button: “Hello?”

“Hello, Bill?” you called out frantically.

“(Y/N)?” he responded, voice fuzzy through the speaker. “What are you doing here?”

“I think,” you lied through deep pants, “I might’ve left something in your suitcase.”

“Okay,” he responded without question. “Come on up.”

Your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute on the lift. You did a final one-over of your appearance and it looked like the enchantment did a swell job at fixing your puffy and red eyes. You repeated everything you were going to say in your mind, a jumble of words sewn together into a somewhat coherent speech on your way here.

You mulled over the conversation like it was a looping film reel in your head, black-and-white and chock full of static. You were going to sit on the couch with Bill, your tone calm like you were an actual adult. If he craved maturity, then that’s what you were going to give him. You were going to listen to him. You were going to be rational. You were going to say, “Bill, I have to admit, I’m disappointed that you hadn’t talked to me about moving to Egypt first. Because, over the months, I’ve developed feelings for you,” and let the conversation carry on.

When the lift doors opened, a bubble of anxiety swelled in your chest. The penthouse was almost bare. Was it like this the first time you arrived? No, there was a French press on the counter and pans and tasteful Percy-picked paintings adorning the walls. There definitely weren’t full cardboard boxes tucked to the side.

“Hey.” Bill ran down the steps with a roll of tape in one hand and a flat box in the other. “What can I help you look for?”

Bill’s weight—rhythmic thuds—on the stairs reassured you he was real, still here beside you and not three thousand miles away. This time tomorrow though, he might not be. The thought triggered a stinging behind your eyes. The sorrow quickly turned into frustration as you realized in the past week, he hadn’t even bother to initiate conversation. He was acting like France was nothing more than a dream, that he didn’t spend most of his time beside you, sharing tender laughs and honest conversations. Why was it you who had to do all the legwork?

‘Compose yourself, (Y/N),’ you scolded. ‘Be mature, be rational.’ You were going— no, there was no chance of that as soon as the thought of Bill never being by your side again infiltrated your head again. Despite thinking you were wrung dry from the morning, you felt tears streaming down your cheeks.

It was Bill’s turn to panic. “Hey,” he said, setting up the folded-up cardboard box against the wall and running over, “what’s wrong?”

“Why?” was all you could choke out. The rest of your rehearsed speech washed out of your mind immediately when you saw his face.

“Why what?” Bill repeated.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?!” you exclaimed, voice pitching up as more tears leaked out of your eyes. There was a patch of hoarseness quilted in your voice but you continued, strained, “Why would you move and not tell me?”

“What?” Bill said. His face contorted in confusion. “I thought you knew, (Y/N).”

“The thing is, I didn’t know!” You gasped for breath. “You don’t need my permission to do anything, but you could’ve at least told me!”

“I think,” Bill’s hands cupped your cheeks, his thumb stroking a tear away, “we need to sit down and talk because I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

You just nodded, Bill’s calm tone abating your anger and your desire to ask whose fault it was that you weren’t eye-to-eye. You sat down on the couch facing the window on his left. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, its red hues seeping into the room, and you knew dinner at the Burrow was about to start soon.

“Firstly,” Bill said, reaching for a box of tissues on the coffee table and offering you to draw one. You reached for one but kept your face turned the other way towards the kitchen, unwilling to let Bill see you like this. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, mind flittering between whether or not to tell him the truth.

Eventually, after a few seconds of silence, you relented. “If I tell you, will you promise not to say anything until I’m finished?”

From the corner of your eye, Bill nodded.

“Okay.”

“You,” you mumbled quietly at first. You had decided: fuck it. If Bill was moving to Egypt, then you should just say everything that was on your mind. It wouldn’t matter if he rejected you since he was going to be miles away.

His face was pensive, eyebrows knitting and eyes squinted, like he was combing over everything that’s ever left his mouth. He laid his right arm motionless on the armrest.

“Was it… something I—?” He quickly stopped himself when you gave him an irksome glance, and he realized he’d broken your first rule of the conversation: don’t speak.

Your voice gained traction and you took advantage of the momentum to admit, “It wasn’t what you said, it was everything you didn’t say.”

“Bill,” you continued, turning your head to look at him. Everything you wanted to say, every feeling and secret you kept locked up in gold chains for the past few weeks, snapped and was spilling out like a torrent. “I know I can’t change the year I was born. And trust me, I’ve been in a right state because I can’t be older or more mature like you. I can’t change who my parents are or who I am or how we get along. I can’t be what you want. And I’ve never even considered any of this to be important or ever thought about it, but in the past week, it’s all I ever thought about, and—”

You squeezed your eyes shut and blotted your tears onto the tissue in your hand.

“When I think about why, it always loops back around to you. Because you’re all I can think about now. It pains me to be something you don’t want, like I’m a puzzle piece that doesn’t belong. And it pains me that I matter so little to you that you can’t even share what goes on in your life with me. And it’s alright if you don’t feel the same way, but it’s taken such a toll on me, knowing you don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

Bill remained silent, his lips pressed tightly together. His hands were unmoving.

“Okay, I’m done,” you added quietly after taking a deep breath. You still couldn’t muster the courage to face him.

At the same time, Bill exhaled. “I don’t know what to respond to first,” he admitted. “But let’s go one by one, okay?”

Your body tensed. You liked talking a mile a minute, hoping that Bill would forget the barrage of words you hurled at him; Bill wanted to break everything down gently. Now, everything was in his hands and he could steer the conversation either way. You were dying for some semblance of your feelings being returned, but you were mainly preparing to be let down. At best, you would get closure before he left.

You sniffed, lips curving downwards, and nodded.

“Firstly, there’s no need to change yourself,” Bill reminded. “You are lovely the way you are.”

“That’s not true,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’ve only shown you the worst parts of me, well, the real parts which are also the worst parts. For example, you’ve always talked so lovingly about your family. I’ve only talked mine down.”

“On the contrary,” Bill stated. “I think you have an excellent relationship with your family.” Bill shuffled slightly closer to you, trying to get you to look at him. “But tell me, (Y/N), what is this sudden fixation on our families?”

“I—you,” you stuttered, both at Bill’s inching closer towards you and the unabashed words that you were going to say, “you think it’s important, so it’s important to me.”

Bill chuckled. “People can be close to their family in different ways.”

“Can they?”

He nodded. “Have Fred and George told you? Mum was more upset than I’d ever seen her when they dropped out of school just months shy of finishing. She scolded them that entire week, then turned around to tell the neighbours how brilliant her boys were, the unconventional route they took and their success and all.”

He added, “She tells me women are turned off by my hair and earrings, then the same afternoon, tells her friends at her sewing club that I’m England’s most eligible bachelor. Doesn’t make any sense, really.”

You let out a nasally laugh that was more akin to a snort. “Really?”

“Really!” Bill affirmed with a smile. “You never know what your parents are saying behind your back.” He tilted his head, trying to see more of your face. “In France, your dad wouldn’t stop talking about you during the golf course. I thought he was boasting to your uncle Theodore as a game strategy, but he’d say the same to me in between holes.”

Bill continued on. “Draco told me you always stood up for him in front of your parents, and to his estranged lover.”

“Estranged—?”

“Pansy, I think her name was?” Bill filled in. “He was really mumbling the words out. Reckon he didn’t want to admit it.”

“Oh, right,” you said with a laugh. “She was a lot. Still a lot. Still in love with him.”

“You’ve had it harder than me, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love your family,” Bill stated. Then his tone bordered on teasing. “And (Y/N), there are other qualities I like in a woman, not just their relationship with family. I hope I’m not that one-dimensional.”

“I can imagine!” you sputtered, spinning around. “It was the only thing you told me and the only thing I had to go off of. I tried extrapolating the rest, but…”

You stopped talking when you realized Bill had your gaze in a headlock. That look in his eyes had you weak, some form of genuine curiosity and tenderness sparking in them. It was dangerous. It beckoned you to answer any question he asked.

“And what did you come up with?” he asked.

You grinded your teeth behind your sealed mouth. It was best to just say it, having already gone far past the point of no return. Still, you couldn’t help but feel mortified.

“I’d imagined you with a more mature woman. Someone who holds their liquor and doesn’t need assistance down the steps after a wedding. I’m the same age as Fred and George. They’re your younger brothers. Surely, you think of me the same.”

“I mean, yes, you are the same age, but I don’t think of you as a younger sister,” Bill explained. He scoffed before saying, “I mean, that would be unsettling if I did because—”

“Because?”

Bill’s lips suddenly quirked up into a sheepish grin. It was now his turn to be reluctant and quiet. His blue eyes shifted to a random corner of the room.

“Because what?” you fished, your palm flat on the couch in anticipation. Inside, your heart was erratic, pounding against your chest. You just needed to hear the right words to push you over the edge.

“I do fancy you.”

You jaw lowered slightly. Did you hear that right? He did fancy you. Suddenly, you were floating. Your ears were ringing, blood was rushing through your brain, euphoria cycling through your veins, and you felt almost delightfully faint. He didn’t just say that, did he? You were definitely imagining it. But you couldn’t have been, given how Bill’s face, and the flush of red by his ears, slowly dappling his cheeks over his freckles, was so clear.

“Can you say that again?”

Bill burst into laughter at your reaction. “It was hard enough the first time.” He remarked the pleading expression on your face before obliging. “(Y/N), I do fancy you quite a bit. I hope it was more obvious than not.”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” you whispered. “Because it would kill me if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Do you remember what we said when we were at the shop, planning out,” he used air quotes, “our future?”

“What part of it?”

“When I said familiarity was uneasy.”

“Yes.” You could recall that perfectly. It was when he asked you why you didn’t choose his brothers to play out your schemes with.

“I’m glad we met under the pretenses we did,” Bill recalled. “We were able to show each other everything, no secrets or lies. And like I thought, there was nothing bad about you to uncover anyway.”

“I’m glad,” you sighed, feeling the last bit of stress dissipating from your body. “Because I thought I’d lost you for the same reason.”

Bill cleared his throat. “So, your age matters little to me. What matters to me is that you are intelligent, kind, and delightfully mischievous with your schemes,” the corner of his lip crooked up into a smile, “not to mention, you are really quite beautiful.”

Your eyes softened and your heart was beating erratically against your chest; you were just elated that Bill loved parts of you that you didn’t think he did.

Well, that was before he added, “And how could I forget? I do love your tendency to enjoy debauchery in the form of books.”

“Will you,” you grabbed a pillow beside you, “stop bringing,” and chucked it at Bill, “that up?!”

“There’s nothing wrong with that! It just means you are well-read,” Bill reasoned, evading the cushion flung his way. “If anything, learning to iron robes and how to best polish oxfords can be very useful.”

You gave him a pointed look.

“Not that I expect you to know,” he clarified quickly, horrified at how you could’ve interpreted it. He pointed to his chest. “I was keeping it in mind for myself.”

“You better not!” you chided, though a wide grin was breaking out across your face. You didn’t look intimidating in the slightest.

With Bill’s joke dispelling the tension, the air cleared enough to ask him another question, another itch only his words could scratch. “If it wasn’t my age, or my family, or even me, then what was, or is, stopping you from...?”

“I…” Bill trailed off. “You know, it’s never a good idea to get into one relationship too quickly after another. You could be using someone to satisfy a void.”

“Right,” you agreed without thinking. But what did you know? Bill had been previously committed, and you’d never been attached to anyone past three dates.

“I’m human, I’ve made mistakes, I try to learn from them.” His fingers ghosted over your temple before brushing a renegade hair from your face. “It would be unfair to drag you into something because I was selfish and unsure.”

“But it’s been almost a year now, surely?” you said. “I thought most people did this rebounding thing right after. I’m not saying it means you should be ready, I’ve just heard—”

“I know, I know,” he agreed. “But you’re just,” he stopped, looking down at you with a gentle and lopsided smile that made your legs wobbly, “something I wanted to take my time with. I don't know if I could live with myself if I hurt you in the slightest.”

You pressed, “Has your opinion changed at all? Since then?”

Bill grinned. “Of course it has.”

You felt more at ease now. “What’s changed it?”

“I missed you in the days we were apart. I really did, (Y/N).” His face showed calm but there was something frantic in his pulse, his words, his entire being. “All summer, Gringrotts wrote to me and wanted me to stay in Egypt as I was doing a fairly good job over there. The European branches sent Fleur to convince me to move to Belgium instead. But when I came home, I realized I missed being with my family.”

You listened wordlessly, wonderstruck at the fact that someone like Bill Weasley existed.

“With mum and dad getting older, I knew I needed to stay home and take care of them if anything happened. They’ve already lost Charlie to Romania and Percy to the Ministry.” He ended the statement with a chuckle.

“Bill, that is so very considerate of you,” you spoke through shallow breaths, “but after all this, you’re still moving?”

“Yes, but it’s not very far away.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Egypt is over three-thousand miles from here.”

“Egypt?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Where did you hear I was moving to Egypt?”

“From George, I—”

“I mean, I was considering it, but I’ve ultimately decided to stay here.” He pointed down with his index finger. “Shell Cottage is a very easy floo away from home.” Then, with an impish smile, he added, “But you know, my family wasn’t the only thing anchoring me.”

“It wasn't?”

A serious expression eclipsed Bill’s face. “I thought of you.”

He thought of you.

“You seem to have an influence over my decisions.” Bill leaned over and in a near whisper, continued. “I thought that if there was any chance that if we,” he looked right at you, “worked out in any sense, me being in Egypt would not make anything easier.”

“Why would we not work out?” you said, apprehension creeping in your voice. If Bill expressed any doubt this far in the conversation, you weren’t sure how you’d take it. He couldn’t take back a confession, he just couldn’t.

“(Y/N), you have to admit,” Bill began, catching your gaze again. You felt your heart stutter at his intense look and those mesmerizing baby blues. “It’s been confusing for me, too. You chose me as your fake lover based on things you were opposed to: my hair, tattoos, my age. Especially my age, I’ve heard. How was I supposed to ask you about it?”

“What?” you blurted out. “Bill, I adore the first two things and I’ve stopped thinking about how old you were. It never even crosses my mind anymore unless someone is bringing it up.”

You took one of his larger hands, heart swelling at how natural it felt, and urged him to look at you. You were trying to convey your thoughts earnestly through touch, like your hands were intertwined with his heart.

“The goal was to make my parents upset, and I thought it worked but it turns out they really like you, especially the golf abilities you’ve kept hidden for thirty years,” you admitted. You reached out to gingerly stroke Bill’s hair, the short locks softly sliding past your fingers. “I truthfully adore all these things: your long hair, tattoos, piercings. And if it were up to me, you’d never cut your hair again.”

“Shame,” he said. “I was starting to like the length. It’s rather airy in the summer.”

“Just the summer, then. I’m willing to negotiate.” You pointed to the fang earring. “But this,” you gently touched it with your free hand, “is non-negotiable. In fact, you could use another piercing or two.”

“Noted,” Bill responded.

“And please, keep these rings,” you mumbled, your fingers falling to admire the bands of silver taut on his fingers. Your voice was now barely audible as you whispered to yourself, “This is quite literally the most attractive thing I’ve seen on a man.”

“What was that?” Bill asked, leaning in unbearably close now. You felt a spark on your lips where was looking.

“Nothing, I, er,” you fumbled, trying to redirect his attention. When you looked up, you saw it: the last object of your adoration. It was his eyes – those blue lifelines to his heart. You leaned in, just inches away from him and the closest you’d ever been, and placed a hand softly on his face, unknowingly flittering over a scar. “Your eyes are beautiful, I… there are no words to describe them.”

He brushed a loose strand of your back and tucked it behind your ear. “Then don’t.”

That was all he said before he closed the short distance between you. Your heart soared when you felt the rougher texture of his lips on your soft ones. You knew at the very least, you had to close your eyes like he had, but you wanted to see him for just another second. You wanted to soak in Bill like he was the sea, let him wash over every sense—sight, touch, taste—you had.

Bill was gentle, gradually easing you into the kiss, giving you air when he felt you needed it. The thing was that you didn’t need air, you just needed more of him. He chuckled when he felt you nudging him closer.

Half of you knew he was physically here, while the half was wondering if you were in some daydream. So, you treaded along precariously, trying not to disturb this lucid dream you found yourself in. Merlin knew how much you would’ve given to kiss Bill Weasley just a month ago.

You drifted from the kiss slowly to confirm something. “So, does this mean…?”

“I’d like to have you as my girlfriend, if you’d have it.” He stated it like there was any chance of hesitation on your end, which there wasn’t.

“Bill,” you exhaled with elation, letting out a relieved breath. “That’s not even a question.”

He moved both his hands to caress the back of your head, fingers tangling with your soft locks. His grip was firmer when he pulled you back towards him. Your lips met again, but this time, he deepened the kiss, was a touch more dominant than he was just seconds ago. You obliged immediately, waltzing with him in the intimate dance. Surely, you weren’t as experienced as Bill was, but he guided you perfectly, urging you to part your lips with a gentle prod of his tongue. He tilted his head to gain better access just as his hands slithered down your body. He gripped your waist firmly, and then did something that sent a shiver down your spine.

He let out a low, guttural groan.

“You are worth the wait,” he breathed huskily. “You’ve been driving me insane for months, (Y/N).”

Before you could flush even deeper at his words, he quickly pulled you over his lap so your legs were splayed out on each side of him. Your pulse grew frantic as both you and Bill shed any sense of slow and steady and replaced it with fast and vigorous. If you weren’t already overheated, you sure were now, feeling the harder parts of him against parts of you that were aching, hearing his desire for you aloud. You unknowingly grinded into him, trying to dissipate the want building. You were a mess of heat and occasionally, the clashing of teeth, which even if imperfect, spoke to the feverish pitch things were reaching.

His hands travelled past the hem of your skirt, doting the back of your thighs until they were positioned on your rear. He kneaded the soft skin and it was your turn to groan.

Bill’s eyes darkened slightly as you straddled his lap. His fingers tightened on your skin until you were sure they’d leave red marks. “I’m a man, (Y/N). I have my own urges to act upon, but.”

“But?” you asked, feeling whiplashed at Bill’s sudden stop.

“But, I do think I should take you somewhere nice first.” He slicked his hair back and tilted his head up to look at you. “That’s only proper, isn’t it?”

“I suppose?” you responded with an inflection, your heart fluttering in hummingbird beats, much too fast to speak coherently. You still felt like you’d ascended to the heavens, your mind in a state so blissful and delirious that you were half-responding to Bill. “I don’t mind either way, really, I…”

“Alright,” Bill agreed. “Then we’ll sort out how you’d like to proceed after the dinner I promised mum to go to.”

“The dinner,” you repeated. You’d forgotten all about it in the heat of things. You were just overjoyed it wasn’t a farewell dinner for Bill. “I can wait until you’re back.”

“What are you talking about?” he questioned with a laugh. He pushed himself off the couch with you in tow and your legs wrapped around his waist. “We’re going to the dinner.” Then he leaned in again, his breath fanning your face. “Together.”

“Are you sure?” you asked shyly, nervous at the prospect of facing the entire Weasley family and more. “I mean, a family dinner. It seems like a big thing, doesn’t it?”

With Bill hoisting you up, you were finally taller than him. You were privy to things you didn’t normally get to see, like how his long lashes framed his eyes, how sturdy the bridge of his nose was, and how tempting his lips looked pulled into a smirk. If you had a say, you’d forego the dinner and kiss him all night instead.

“You took me to one,” he countered.

“Under false pretenses,” you said, scrunching your face up.

“Okay, consider this a family dinner that is actually entirely truthful. This is a second chance to do things right and not lie about anything.”

“Who said I was lying about anything?” you snickered. “Maybe I do want seven children and to never retire and to fly around in the Ford Anglia everywhere.”

Bill shook his head. “I don’t think anyone would be happy with oil leaking from the sky. Kingsley would tax you for environmental damages under the new green law.” He tossed a wink your way, knowing exactly how to counteract your sarcasm, and said, “But I would be happy to oblige your other requests.”

“No!” you yelped, clasping your hands over your mouth. The thought of the rest of your life inundated by seven kids and little Freds and Georges clinging to your sides was a nightmare. How did Molly do it? Bill was forcing himself not to laugh. You knew he was only joking, but you couldn’t help but give him a little slap on the arm.

You looked directly at him. “In all seriousness, should we tell them one-by-one?” you asked.

“What about?”

“About us,” you responded. “We shouldn’t give your mother a heart attack.”

“(Y/N),” Bill assured with a breath-taking smile, spinning you around in his arms. The look on his face was luminous. He really was the sun that broke the storm. “We’re going to tell the whole world tonight.”

Epilogue

Standing on the hilly and grassy entrance of the Burrow, Bill was appraising you with concern. He could sense the rigidity in your body as he held your hand.

“How are you feeling, love?”

“Relieved and nervous,” you explained. “Relieved because this isn’t your farewell party. Nervous because it’s your family.”

“You know my family,” Bill reminded. “There is nothing to worry about.”

“Are you completely certain this is a good idea?” you asked. “I don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“I’ve never had a bad idea,” he boasted with a toothy smile.

Bill pushed the creaky wooden door open for you, his hand still clasped on yours, unwilling to let go of your fingers in case you wanted to escape. He ducked under the doorframe as he entered. You followed him into the Burrow—Bill’s childhood home. You’ve been here before but this just felt different, like you were now a part of the family and not just an extension of it. You shied away, thinking Molly would be right there. She wasn’t. You saw Percy in the living room, turned away and nose in a book. Charlie, who you were surprised to see had returned from Romania, was pouring himself beer from the pitcher. Molly was snipping herbs from her potted plant by the windowsill, oblivious to your arrival.

Charlie was the first to look up, being the closest to you, at you and your hands intertwined. A slow, devious, and somewhat knowing smile creeped up on his face. Bill shushed him and Charlie covered his mouth with his free hand. Of course, Charlie remained silent, tempted to see how his mother would react.

“Hi, mum,” Bill called from across the room.

“Bill, darling,” she responded offhandedly, preoccupied by the finishing touches she was putting on her vegetable roast. She was slow to turn around, more focused on carrying a heavy dish with her oven mitts. And when she did, her eyes landed on your faces first.

“(Y/N)!” she called. “How nice of you to bring her, Bill.”

Her eyes were still locked on your face and hadn’t made the connection. Your breath caught when Molly’s eyes began trailing downwards in what felt like an eternity.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you didn’t expect to cause such a scene. Molly literally dropped her dish on the floor at the sight of your hand in Bill’s. The ceramic dish shattered and the vegetable roast flew in all directions. Percy jolted from his position on the couch, his cry overshadowed by the stew boiling over and the kettle wailing beside it.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. She seemed so flustered she didn’t know which way to go—to embrace you or to clean up the mess on the floor or to turn off the stove with the overflowing stew. “I had my suspicions, oh, I—”

In desperation, she called out for her husband to help with one of those tasks. “Arthur!”

He quickly ran in, cheeks rosy, and out of breath.

“What’s the danger?” he panted, looking left and right.

“Oh, Arthur!” Molly exclaimed with a roll of her eyes, her hand on her hip. “There’s no danger.” She pointed to where you stood. Arthur, still unaware, looked over. Bill raised your hand and gave it a little shake. Molly couldn’t control her excitement, so she ran over. You imagined she was tumbling towards Bill, but she chose you instead. You let go of Bill’s hands to hug her.

“My future daughter-in-law!” she exclaimed, patting your cheeks. “Oh, I knew it! I just knew it. You are just so perfect for my Bill.”

“I think that’s an approval from mum,” Bill said to Charlie who was standing offside.

“She’s already making Christmas sweaters for your children,” Charlie teased with a snicker.

“Bill! Come and help me with the vegetables,” Molly commanded, sending over an apron from the closet that was likely too small for him.

Bill looked at the flimsy piece of fabric in his hands. He only had a couple inches of string to work with. “Mum, I think this is Ginny’s—”

Then, Molly pointed to her spilt dish. “Arthur, sweetie, clean this up. And (Y/N),” she guided you by the shoulders and towards the couch where Percy was, “you just sit here and Percy will bring you a beverage.”

“I told you, mum’s a modern feminist,” Bill said to you with a wink. He managed to get a tiny knot from the apron. “How do I look?”

“You look fit,” you complimented. The tiny apron was accentuating all the right muscles. “And in regards to your mother, rightfully so. Millicent be damned.”

“I’m not opposed to her tips in the later chapters,” Bill added with a smirk, causing your face to flush.

“I’ve read it so many times, I have it memorized,” you assured. “You’ll have to find out later.” Bill’s mouth rounded in surprise first, not used to this side of you, before morphing into a more smouldering expression.

“Hey!” Charlie interjected from across the room. “Just because you’re together doesn't mean we all have to be subject to this.”

“You’ve read this book, Charlie?” Bill asked, steering his brother away. “Let me tell you all about (Y/N)’s favourite author…”

“Watch it,” you whispered in the most intimidating tone you could muster.

Bill quickly spring into action with his mother who was appraising his domestic skills. You admired his tall figure, his fingers lithely paring a potato with a peeler.

Bill’s tall figure was quickly replaced by Percy, who looked abashed as he brought a beer over to you.

“I….”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I know. I’m a selfish person, I’m working on it.”

“You’re not selfish. I shouldn’t have jumped to assumptions,” he conceded. “It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“It’s not,” you reassured.

Percy nodded and let a moment of silence linger over you before asking, “Say, how did you arrange that meeting with Rookwood?”

“Would you like to know?” you said with a smile. “I can set you up.”

At dinner, Bill sat beside you. You didn’t need much integrating or any introductions; you’d been here already and there was already a seat for you. Occasionally and to your pleasure, he’d take your hand under the dinner table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“So,” Molly started as she sat down. She looked directly at you two. “I’d like to know this happened.”

Neither you or Bill could contain your laughter, given the wild story you were about to tell. You were the first to recover, and slowly, you began, “It started, around a table just like this…”

After dinner and dessert was had, you and Bill departed for the backyard. You were swinging with him on a hammock, away from the commotion inside, and watching the stars. They were exceptionally clear tonight, or maybe it was that being with Bill made the world slightly brighter.

“Bill?” you asked, snuggling in closer to him to shield yourself from the cold.

He turned to you. “Hm?”

“You’re coming to Nice next year, too?”

“Of course,” he responded, like there wasn’t even a flicker of doubt.

“And the next?”

“And the next,” he affirmed. “I wouldn’t even question it.”

“Good,” you said with a blissful sigh.

Under the starry night, you counted your blessings and thanked the heavens as you soaked Bill in. After days and weeks of fluxing emotions, he’d made it clear tonight: he was yours, yours for the rest of your life if you made sure of it.

Unbeknownst to you, the twins sat on the couch inside murmuring amongst themselves.

“You cheated,” Fred accused. “He wasn’t going to Egypt anyway.”

“That wasn’t one of the rules, Freddie. It’s not like I made them kiss or anything,” George said with a shrug. “I only accelerated what was going to eventually happen.”

Fred cursed under his breath as he gave George galleons he lost. That was a good whole month of pay, all gone!

“I thought she’d be a little more resilient than that.”

“Hm, shows you don’t know her that well,” George said with a smirk, depositing the money in his pockets.

“I hate to say that it was well-played, but poor (Y/N). You did a number to her heart there.” Fred said with a pout. “I think she really thought he was moving to Egypt.”

“Now our poor sweet (Y/N), stolen by the treacherous grasp of our eldest brother,” George lamented.

“Not like she would’ve chosen you anyway.”

Fred placed his hand over his heart, offended. “Nor would she you.” Then he leaned back on the couch, watching you from outside the window, swaying on the hammock with Bill. You’d been out there for almost an hour.

George spun the gleaming gallon on the table.

“Now, next on the list of affairs to bet on: when’s the wedding?”

<<CHAPTER DIRECTORY (READ IT AGAIN!)

TAGLIST: @inpraizeof @milkiane @lovesanimals0000 @alisslahey @milfodyssey @itscheybaby @lookingthroughmirrors @stiles-argent24@aki-ham @my-current-fandom-is @salvatoremuse @nimue-lady-of-the-lake @agathne @benbarnesismybaby@bangbaang @venus-d-vinyl @lexxxtacyyy @pink-hufflepuff @unicornicopia1@itsrhyann@awesomeowlbook @bamboozledflamplant @howpeculier @jaix-8102 @vilentia @sophneedsfandoms @dontbesuspiciousss @sugarrush-blush@actuallyade @thatgoodolswitcharoo @kakorrhaphiphobia @cigaretttes-aftersex @pandoraneverland @theluvcafe@eternally-ineffable@winterishfallinknowledge @tygecjjd @southernraven @roroswitherose

#bill weasley x you #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x y/n

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fandomsnstuff · 9 months

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This is for that au roulette thing i reblogged uhh yesterday

AU: Community theatre

Barry's in hell. He died in a horrific car crash and everything that's happened in the last hour has been the universe punishing him for stealing Alex J's cupcake on the last day of 3rd grade. This is the only explanation.

It couldn't possibly be because he's smitten for a very pretty girl he's known only since he forced himself to socialise and volunteered to do lights at the city theatre. How long has it been? Three weeks? Twenty years? Fifteen minutes?

But she caught him singing to himself and convinced him to sing to her for real. Then when the guy playing the titular character turned out to be an absolute jerkwad, he was shoved into an audition room and now he's sitting in a chair trying not to cringe as Taako paper machés half his face.

Why they decided to do Phantom of the Opera, Barry will never understand. Their funding is about 20 dollars and a paperclip, but the things Magnus can rig up with some plywood and a quick trip to Home Depot are truly magical.

The dressing room door opens and in the mirror he sees Lup come up behind him, very obviously suppressing a smile.

"You're laughing at me," he deadpans.

"No I'm not!" She looks offended at the notion. "It just looks silly before the mask is painted."

He chances a look at himself, and she's not wrong. There's some glue-water dripping down his chin, he has a makeshift cotton-ball-and-medical-tape eyepatch, and there's a full colour Garfield comic across his forehead. "I can't believe I agreed to this."

"You'll do great."

He resists the urge to shake his head as Taako puts another strip of paper on his face. Moving too much is what got him stuck with Garfield. "I haven't been on a stage since I was thirteen. I'm a backstage kind of guy."

"Who can sing like a leading man."

His face flushes, and even with his half vision he can see Taako roll his eyes. "I'm just glad Greg's finally fucked off," he says. "That guy was getting way too into it."

Barry frowns. "Really? How?"

Taako snorts. "You know that guy who played the joker who left, like, gross shit on people's doorsteps?"

"Nnnnno? I'm not really a celebrities kinda guy."

Taako covers up the Garfield strip with the last of the newspaper (probably because he knows Lucretia would throw a paintbrush at him if she had to cover a full colour comic with the theatre's mediocre paint) and starts washing his hands. "Well some dude was being a freak about playing the joker cause he's "method" and Greg was also being a freak."

"It was like he was trying to be the phantom of this theatre," Lup says, "but he didn't seem to realise it doesn't work when we all know he's doing it."

"Well, I, uh," Barry clears his throat, "I promise I won't be a freak? But, you know, who's gonna do lights now? I mean I-"

"Magnus," Taako says, flicking the water off his hands.

"He couldn't take over the phantom?"

Taako barks a laugh. "Trust me, you do not want to hear Maggie sing."

"He's not that bad," Lup defends.

"He's not that good either. He's better off sticking to Shakespeare and woodworking."

Barry's eyebrows raise. "Shakespeare?"

"Face," Taako scolds. Barry drops his surprise back to neutral. "But yeah, the guy can't sing for shit, and he won't be acting in any blockbusters any time soon, but jeezums can he recite a soliloquy."

"I can actually understand ol' Willy Shakes when Magnus does it," Lup says. "He was Macbeth last year."

"Oh, I remember that!" Barry says, "my mom and I came, and afterwards she kept saying how-"

He's cut off by loud, thundering steps out in the hallway. Somewhere outside the door a booming voice shouts, "TO BE, OR NOT TO BE," the door's thrown open and reveals Magnus, "THAT is the question."

The three of them stare at him, bewildered. He smiles, "I heard someone say Shakespeare?"

#AUroulette2023 #taz fic #blupjeans #barry bluejeans #taz #no proofreading we die like men

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sankta-starkova · 9 months

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LETTERMAN

007; homecoming

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist (x)

summary: the one where ej and andy reunite after years when they're cast as love interests, finally rekindling their friendship and maybe getting something else out of it as well

wordcount: 1.7k

It had been a week or two and now it was time for homecoming, something Andy wasn't the biggest fan of. Not only did she feel that it was the most cliche thing but also she didn't have a date. And that was kind of embarrassing.

"Come on. I'm just saying, this is your chance," Big Red explained as they walked through the halls.

He was trying to convince the two of them to shoot their shot. It was easy for him to say with absolutely nothing to lose.

"The last thing I'm gonna do is ask Nini to homecoming on the day of the dance," Ricky said.

"But she's single and ready to mingle, and you should try it out with EJ now that's hes all lonely " Big Red exclaimed.

"Never say that again," she scrunched her nose up, "-and no, just because me and EJ are on better terms now doesn't mean I'm going to ask him out,"

"Yeah, and anyway, Nini hard-core friend zoned me," Ricky said, walking away and leaving Big Red behind.

Later that night she got to school, Ricky had driven her and Big Red, she told Mr Mazzara her name and he gave her the tickets to table ten with the theatre kids.

Andy was wearing a long red dress, one that her sister had leant her from her homecoming, and her hair in a nice casual updo.

She was nervous. She had never really gone to many school dancing before and even though Big Red and Ricky were here with her, she was still feeling anxious.

The three of them walked in and Ashlyn got up, waving them of them over. They sat down at the table, Andy starting to chat away with Ashlyn before seeing EJ walk in, Gina on his arm.

He looked over at her, staring at the red dress she had on and for a second, his heart skipped a beat before he turned away.

Andy froze. She hated the way that EJ made her feel. She was so conflicted over the situation, over her feelings for him.

She groaned, placing her head on the table, "I'm gonna throw up in my mouth," she said, Ashlyn chuckling

"Excuse us, are these seats taken?" Gina asked, walking over and still holding onto EJ.

Everyone looked awkward, "Sure," Andy said, putting on a fake smile.

She didn't know why it was so difficult for her to see EJ and Gina together, it was probably just jealousy but she hated the feeling.

Everyone talked for a while, EJ looking over at Andy as he thought about everything. He couldn't help thinking about how maybe he should have come with her instead.

But he was cut out of his thoughts by Gina holding his hand, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"He'll show up okay? Maybe he just hit traffic," Andy said to Carlos as he explained that Seb wasn't here yet and they were dates.

"We live in Salt Lake City. There hasn't been traffic since the 2002 winter Olympics," He explained.

"Don't assume Seb stood you up, okay. Maybe he was just in a farming accident," Ashlyn suggested, trying to comfort him but failing.

"Yeah, cause that's better Ash," she said sarcastically, not understanding why she'd say that.

"Could you get me some punch, babe?" Gina asked and EJ nodded, looking awkward as he walked away

"Could you get me some punch babe? Ugh!" Andy impersonated, Ashlyn laughing at her best friends reaction, "I love Gina and all, really, but what the hell is she doing?"

She didn't think the situation could get anymore awkward but then Ricky slid over to the seat next to Gina and she knew that it wasn't going to go well.

"Hey, not to intrude but you can do better than EJ. That guy is bad news," he explained.

"Youre not exactly one to give relationship advice, and when I want your opinion, I'll ask," Gina bit back, not having any of Rickys vindictiveness.

Ricky scoffed. She didn't know what had gotten into him and why he felt like he had the right to say any of that.

"Well I'm giving it anyway cause I thought you were classier than this, but hey, maybe you really are what people say you are," Ricky said.

Everyone else on the table went silent after Rickys comment and even Gina froze up, unsure of what to say. It was incredibly mean of him to say something like that and they were all thinking that.

"And that is?" Gina questioned, Andy knowing this wasn't going to end well.

"Ricky," Andy and Big Red said at the same time, trying to stop him before he dug himself an even bigger grave.

"Just a little too ambitious for your own good, or anyone else's," Ricky said and Gina walked off, a hurt expression on her face.

Later, Big Red and Andy stood with Ricky away from the others, telling him off for saying all those things to Gina.

"That was mad harsh dude, you owe her an apology," Big Red explained, Andy nodding in agreement.

He scoffed, "She showed up to the dance with my exs ex, whats that about?" He asked, still trying to defend himself.

"Maybe it's not about you at all. I'm friends with EJ but you don't see me being a bitch to Gina for it. People are allowed to go out with whoever they want to," Andy explained.

Ricky sighed, realising what he had done, "Can we just get out of here?" Ricky suggested.

"Now? Dude, we're at homecoming. You should be finding eligible hunnies for me to dance with," Big Red said.

He wanted to lighten the mood but Ricky had kind of ruined it by his rude comments and pessimistic attitude.

"Hold that thought. Drama, two o'clock,' Ricky said and they all looked to see EJ and Gina bickering by the punch bowl.

"Whats wrong with you EJ?" Big Red said in Gina's voice, trying to read their lips.

"I'm just so intimidated by Big Red as he hangs out with Andy who looks so hot," he said in a deep voice, impersonating EJ.

Andy smacked him on the arm with a laugh, he always knew how to cheer her up, before Gina threw punch over EJs head.

EJ walked the other way. "Go follow him, you could get something out of this," Big Red said pushing her towards EJ.

She didn't know what her friend wanted her to do but she agreed, this was her opportunity to have a conversation with him.

She sighed, following him over, "You need to stop getting your shirts dirty, I seem to think you do it on purpose," she said and EJ turned around.

"Maybe that's been my plan all along," he said with a chuckle.

"Come here," she said, pulling out a handkerchief from her bag, ignoring his comments about her being an elderly woman.

She ran it through his hair, "You are ruining time and money to make this hair work," he said and she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, but its not like your new girlfriend seems to care," she said as she dried his shirt.

"First of all, I think I can dry my own shirt. Second of all, Gina is not my girlfriend," he said, pulling away from her.

Her face lit up in embarrassment. Why did she do that? There was this self loathing that started at the sound of his words.

"Fine," she said, handing him the handkerchief which was now wet with punch, "But you don't call random girls babe,'

"What are you talking about babe," EJ said sarcastically but didn't receive a laugh, "She thought it would make Nini jealous," he admitted.

It all made sense and she nodded her head, apologising before they walkes back out to see Carlos slow dancing with Seb.

"You want to dance?" EJ asked and she turned to him, not understanding what he was saying.

"With me?" She questioned and he chuckled.

It seemed like a stretch. She would never have ever imagined him wanting to dance with her.

"Sure, both of us seem to be alone. Seems a shame to waste the dance," he said and she blushed.

He held his hand out, her taking it before he pulled her in, the two swaying as his hands rested on her hips and hers around his neck.

"I never really got to thank you, for being such a great friend after Nini broke up with me," EJ said and she looked up, smiling at him.

"What are friends for," Andy replied with a smile, thinking over everything.

He was so close to her that she could feel his breath against hers and could see the fine details of his eyes; she could get lost in them for days.

"The nights almost up, you want a ride home?" He offered and she didn't know what had gotten into him to be so nice to her.

"Its fine, Viv said she'd pick me up," she explained, trying not to seem weird.

"No need. This is boring anyway, we'll drive home, get food on the way. Just like the good old days," he explained.

She had missed him. She had missed having fun with hum and not caring abut anything else.

She blushed slightly, "In the good old days, you didn't have a car," she said.

He laughed, dipping her slightly at the song. She looked up at him, the two of them laughing.

She could feel her stomach fluttering at the action. There was something so intimate about the moment and it broke her heart that she couldn't have him like she wanted.

"Fine, but you're paying," she said, the two heading out of the party after saying goodbye to everyone.

He drives her back after food, the two waiting in his car before either make the move to leave.

"Thanks," Andy said and he looked over at her with a smile, "For the dance and the food and the ride home,"

"Any time, and thanks for helping me out the last few weeks," he said and she smiled.

She opened the door, stepping out and walking to the house. She knocked and Viv opened the door, grinning cheekily at her sister.

Andy turned back and flashed a thankful smile at EJ, who had stayed put to make sure she got in safely. He smiled back, heart dropping slightly as he realised he may have some sort of feelings towards her.

#ej caswell fanfiction #ej caswell x oc #letterman; ej caswell #ej caswell x reader #ej caswell #matt cornett #hsmtmts fanfiction #hsmtmts fanfic #hsm the musical #hsm the series #hsmtmts #high school musical #high school musical the musical the series fanfiction #high school musical the musical the series

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dragonofeternal · 4 months

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So this year has been really, really good in terms of like... reminding/validating that I'm actually like smart and good at what I do?

Like.

First off, I got my new job which whips ass and is super fun and challenging and pays way better and where my ability to do nine million different things is like very valuable. Like oh yeah, I can reformat this word doc/that powerpoint. Do you want me to do a little bit of graphic design to make this actually look nicer? Oh, you need this video for a presentation but it's on a site other than youtube? Yeah sure, I'll rip it for you. And also just the day-to-day of being able to take good notes, and being able to help copyedit training materials, and generally being a pleasant and mostly on top of things person in the office.

THEN, I took one of Killian's creative writing classes along with them. Which, for one thing, was super fun, good teacher, nice to have an organized space/time to hang out and talk about writing. But also it was really validating to have someone outside of the internet/my inner circle of friends read and critique my work who was like... I dunno another adult/serious writer type person? Our teacher is a published poet -- Though more specifically she's prolific as a TRANSLATOR of poetry. A fair number of the translated Palestinian poets you've seen being posted around tumblr recently are most certainly her work. -- and when she realized the level I was writing at she started critiquing my work a lot harder. Still had nice stuff to say! Just also being willing to dig in and point out places where I could improve.

We actually hung out with her last night at a fellow classmate's band's show and she took both me and Killian aside for expanded critique/thoughts on our final pieces, and said some really nice stuff which included that she sees both of us as like professional-grade writers who should continue to hone their craft and who she really wants to see succeed/get shit published/etc. I'm currently letting a short story (that is... probably gonna end up as a novella orz) that I wrote for class sit before I do another draft of it, and then she's offered to do a more critical line edit for me so I can shop it around and get it published somewhere really good.

(Which is also interesting because I see myself as working very much in genre spaces and she's very in the "literary" sort of mode, and she said that she saw a lot of literary prowess and style in how I wrote which she could see getting it published in a more literary type journal. And that's like a weird/wild thought bc of my complicated thoughts on the way the literary/publishing world looks at and treats genre writing blah blah blah....)

At the SAME show, though, our teacher had brought along a friend, who is also a teacher at the community college. Said friend works for the theatre department and recognized me from volunteering to act at a one-day event last semester for Killian's playwriting class. Like this was an event where I was acting for MAYBE a grand total of fifteen minutes. And she basically said "HEY YOU'RE REALLY GOOD, WHY HAVEN'T I SEEN YOU AT ANY OF THE AUDITIONS?" So then I chatted with her some about how I've done a lot of theatre over the years but time/jobs/money meant I haven't had a chance to in a long time...

But now my job is a 9-5! So I gave her my number and I'm now basically the understudy for if/when someone drops out of the productions currently going on. Apparently they have a lot of issues with people dropping suddenly so it's likely that I'll end up doing something next semester! Which is good cuz like. Damn, do I love the theatre, and I've missed it A LOT.

I dunno just having two different people being really impressed about my creative work in a short time was really, really mood/ego boosting? I dunno. When I last did theater in Pittsburgh I ended up feeling really burnt out by the exhausting sense of always having to hunt for work, feeling like I wasn't good enough, etc... And last year I was struggling a lot with feeling like all my writing was futile/unwanted/etc... So having people remember me and be super complimentary was. Nice.

#state of the liz #long post under cut

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bunn--y · 2 years

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I've been watching Les Miserables: Shoujo Cosette. Ie, the World Masterpiece Theatre version of Les Mis. I probably wouldn't have given it a chance if it wasn't for the fact that it is WMT since seeing Cosette as the main character wasn't something I was looking forward to. I should also note before continuing that my attempts to read the book have only got around 20 or so pages in. I might try an audiobook at some point.

Anyway, I'm enjoying this anime version. I'm currently midway through episode 21 and it's interesting. The censoring for kids is well done. Usually I prefer laugh at badly done censorship but there is something of value here. There's certainly a debate to be had on if it is right to censor Les Miserables if it is to be shown, but right now I'm not really interested in that.

I'm more into just collecting some random little thoughts than anything else.

Sister Samplice feels like an anime original and I was surprised to found out that she's from the book. Chou Chou would have been a bigger surprise but no, he's as much of an anime original as he looks like.

Cosette is very much the sort of moe character who I don't like, but there are a few things that I like so far. I like the fact that we see clear cut signs of PTSD from her abuse from the Thénardiers. I have a vague memory of reading once that she doesn't in the book. Considering that even decades after the book was published it was believed that child abuse couldn't lead to PTSD, I find that believable, though i have not been able to find the source that she didn't again. I also like that more focus (in comparison to the musical) is put on her relationship with Jean Valjean. This does allow the annoying parts of her moe characterisation to at least have justification. I should note that according to all sources, they didn't change how moe she was... though I doubt that her riding a dog was in the books. But that was genuinely cute (because she's an anime girl and hence won't break the dog's back) so I count it as the third thing that I liked.

I suppose I'd better address the elephant in the room. I dislike the character designs. I want to like them, especially when I checked out the book illustrations and found them to be quite cartoony too. For the most part individually I have no issues with them. However, when put together, there's too much of a 'beauty equals goodness' feel for me to like them. It's particularly annoying since The Book has a good sense of creating morally complicated characters. Javert has always fit into the idea of a anime villain even though he predates anime by so many years. Seeing him made out to look so obviously like a villain was disappointing.

A few months ago I came across a video on how Avatar The Last Airbender isn't popular in Japan and China due to existing in an uncanny valley but culturally rather than aesthetically. I feel something similar with this series, which is odd because it's often with things that I've been impressed with WMT for portraying well before like Christianity. I don't know how much of this is due to it being an anime and how much is due to it talking about catholicism when I'm used to protestant conversations. There's a lot of little bits though that just feel really off.

You know how I said this is censored and in this case, I'm amused by it though it's done well. I'm going to explain that now. It's things like Fantine not becoming a prostitute so she has instead work really unpleasant jobs, including one with dead fish bones. There's more of a focus on her feeling that she can't trust anyone and we get to watch her homelessness and abuse get to her. Again I'm comparing to the musical and not the book here, but I did enjoy that she got to attack those two men who attack her. (They put snow down her back). Yeah, let the abuse effect her, please. This censorship is well done since it's taking elements that kids haven't had the experience to understand and turns them into ones that kids do. While as an adult, I'm like 'fish bones and selling your body are two very different things' on a level of 'this is a gross thing to feel forced to do for money' it is a stronger idea for kids. Kids aren't supposed to know about sex on the level of understanding how sex work could effect Fantine and most of them wouldn't. At best they might understand that this makes her hard to employ, but she is already a begger on the streets just for having a daughter, so what difference does it make? As an adult who tries to understand children, it could even be argued that this is a stronger way of showing the sexism of the time.

That said, I'm hoping that the kids who grew up with this version went on to either the book or more adult adaptations.

There is another type of change that was made that I actually have a more solid ground on my feelings on. For anyone reading who isn't familiar with WMT they tend to do three things with their adaptions: make them slow, keep as much of the depressing stuff as possible even adding stuff sometimes and make them beautiful. So it wasn't a surprised that this is a slow adaptation. It also wasn't a surprise that there's a lot of focus on the abuse Cosette and Gavroche go through form the Thénardiers. WMT likes to focus on child abuse and not necessarily in a good way. It can often be guilt tripping in the attitude of 'look at what this child goes through and they're not making a fuss'. From what I have seen of this adaptation so far, this attitude is not here. In fact, the show goes out of its way to show that there are good people in the world who will look out for abused children. When Cosette goes off with Jean Valjean, we get to find out that the blacksmith and his wife who took Gavroche on for work is kind so we don't need to worry about him having to stay with the Thénardiers. Another example is discovering that the anime original character Alain is going to be taking over as mayor in the city that Jean Valjean had helped as mayor for so many years. This lighter and softer feel really stresses the hopeful nature of the story without undermining the sadness that it is also very important.

The thing that I like about these more hopeful additions is that they're small. From what I've read spoiler wise, the show still keeps a lot of the character deaths and has already kept Fantine's. As much as I think that doing a kid's version of les mis is interesting and that toning down some aspects is understandable in this instance, I would like to as a les mis fan see as much of the story kept as possible. As a WMT fan though I'm happy that they are showing restraint.

I imagine that I'll have a lot more to say once I finish the series. Especially considering the changes to some of the character deaths I've read about. One of the spoilers I'm already having real concerns about a big one involving an adult character.

#world masterpiece theater #les miserables #les miserables shoujo cosette #bunny watches stuff

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innestahtinen · 8 days

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Something about spoilers for Renegade Nell.

At the end of episode two, when the rider emerged, I really thought I recognised it, but wasn't sure what from. Something was ringing in the back of my head, going "Wild Hunt". Probably from a fanfic i read a while ago, whatever, moving on. So afterwards I went and had a look at the wiki page and looked at previews for all the associated characters, and landed on the conclusion that the sickass creature was Herne. I then half forgot about it because of other media; a Shaun of the Dead, a bit of the The Thing with a healthy topping of tiredness. And we get to the next episode the next week; and my dad goes; 'oh yeah, there was that thing on the horse', and I'm starting to think "there's no way she beats it, it's that much bigger, it's more overtly supernatural. She's just going to have to find a way to divert it" and then she cuts the head off.

And I felt... cheated? of seeing the characters try to figure out how to get away from the hill creature.

And then in the royal meeting, when they confirmed that that's what it was meant to be, I can lean over and go; "Wha-hey, that's what I said."

And that makes it all worth it.

Did run through the Horrible Histories Monarchs song to double check which Queen it was.

My times kinda been taken up going through the Life Series's, because I've started watching Cleo, BDubs and Etho since the start of Season 10, I missed Impulse's first two seasons, because I don't think I was watching him until Season 8 and Pearl -ish. I added her halfway through S9 and went, there's too many episodes, I'll wait, and instead watched three perspectives of Empires S1. So I put all by session, in order, and it was 145 videos, and 108 hours... and now at 85 and 34. Like Big B. Martyn annoys me, he hasn't done anything, I'm just annoyed by him. I miss watching Mumbo, but I'm not going back, see previous reason. Am halfway through Last Life, on session 5.

Didn't watch the stream weekend, started at 12:30 am, and I had a shift at 5. Sorry, but no. Also I haven't watched any live livestreams since around the The Deep End smp days, so 2018-9.

I also played through all of The Big Con, which was pretty good, especially for the low price of free. Go and get it, even if you don't like the genre, or look of it, my Epic library's full of games that I'll probably never play, but it's good to have them on the off chance.

Were the two guys in the theatre Garth and Wayne from SNL?

'Nymphs are maybe the most extreme version of this, because of course it is from the word nymph that we get the term nymphomaniac, which I suppose is a sort of fantasy creature in it's own right.' - J.J. McCullough, 4th March 2024 (from a video about little guys)

#renegade nell #life series #the big con

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lucy90712 · 2 years

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congrats on 500!! could i request 11 w sapnap maybe slight angst to fluff??

Warnings: swearing

Oh man I’ve fucked up so badly. I’m such an idiot and have ruined the best friendship I’ve ever had in my entire life and now I’m alone. I have had feeling for Sapnap for so long and the other day we went to a drive in movie theatre and it just felt so right to say it but it backfired so badly.

~~~~

Sapnap has been kind of flirting with me all evening and it’s made my heart flutter to the point that I’ve barely been able to watch the movie we are here to see. It feels like the perfect moment to tell him how I feel because he has had his arm around me the whole time and been so flirty that I’m feeling confident enough to admit my feelings.

“Sap can I tell you something” I asked

“Yeah go ahead” he replied

“I can't just go around and live my life while acting like I'm not completely in love with you anymore and I know we are best friends but my feelings go beyond that” I admitted

~~~~

I regretted it as soon as I said it because he just didn’t respond and we haven’t talked since and its been almost a week which is probably the longest we have gone without any contact which is how I know I’ve messed up pretty badly. I’m so upset with myself because he is what keeps me going everyday and without him I’m just a mess.

My poor roommates have really suffered as well because I’ve been crying and moping round the place every since last Friday. They have been super sweet and tried to help and make me feel better but nothing has worked I just want my best friend back. If I could go back and never tell him how I felt I would do it in a heartbeat as much as holding onto feelings is hard life is so much harder without your best friend.

I’m home alone tonight while everyone else is out with friends or with boyfriends while I sit here alone in my room listening to sad music. Me wallowing in my sorrows was interrupted by the doorbell ringing, I didn’t want to answer but I knew I had to because my roommates were expecting packages and I didn’t want to leave them outside.

When I opened the door I was literally speechless for a good few seconds because it was Sapnap stood at the door smiling back at me while I looked like a mess with bags around my eyes from crying and not sleeping. He didn’t give me chance to say anything he just pulled me into a hug and walked into the apartment dragging me behind him.

We sat down together on the sofa and he just looked right into my eyes for a moment before leaning in to kiss me, it was the last thing I was expecting to happen in that moment but as soon as my brain registered what was happening I kissed back. The kiss was magical it was just like I had imagined it would be and suddenly admitting my feelings didn’t feel like such a bad idea.

“I’m sorry I waited so long to talk to you I hope that makes up for it” he said pulling away from the kiss

“It’s ok I’m just glad your here I’ve missed you” I said

“I’ve missed you too but I came here to ask if you would be my partner?” He asked

“I would love to” I replied leaning in to kiss him again

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #500 followers

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drwgonslayer · 3 years

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JAMIE X CLAIRE, fanfic.

What if Claire Beauchamp was a ballet dancer and Jamie, a doctor?

The Ardent Dance Of Swans

chapter 1: Hearts Of Swan

Prospero: “We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”

– William Skakespeare.

ATO I – Pas De Deux

Jamie Fraser could not say he was a fan of Classical Ballet. In fact, he was unable to understand even the smallest thing about it or the intricate and elegant movements of the dancers. But he was a fan of classical music since he was a child in Lallybroch, running away from his sister’s shoes and listening Ellen Fraser, his mother, playing the piano with undrilled passion and full heart. It was the sweetest parts of his childhood, seeing his mon safe and healthy before the gloomy claws of cancer came and took her away, far from him and his two brothers. Then, of course after that, the music stopped. Ellen was the shape of music, melody and happiness, the heart of the house, without her there was no reason to keep playing and living their best life. Until his middle sister kick their ass out of self-pity.

“Mama would be ashamed of us.” – Jenny said in her firm voice but betrayed by her shaking hands. “We have to keep walking. Head up and keep walking. That’s what she always said. Head up and keep walking, William and Jamie.” – So did they.

Head up and keep walking, he made up his way on the med-school. He built a solid career as a Trauma Surgeon, after came back from the army, and a home in Edinburgh. William was an administrator, married and almost a father and Jenny was an architect, with three little children and married with Ian, a good man, friend and lawyer.

He, working as a doctor in full time, didn’t spend time looking for real bonds or marriages like his brothers did. As a man not adept to the casual sex, he only had short relationships in almost ten years. Leogharie, who scared the hell out of him at the end – she was a stalker and very jealous, toxic, if he could say – and Genebra, a doctor too, but immature and selfish.

None of them was the one that his mother always talked about, so he got over easily. But, anyway, he was not looking for it —the one—, like his brothers did, because Jamie really knew it would be difficult find one love like his parents had and after all he went through, difficult was not so attractive anymore.

So, now, he was on a theatre alone after he refused the company of a girl that Angus and Rupert, two orthopedists, invited for him, watching the First Act of Swans Lakes.

Jamie, of course, knew that the libretto is based on a story by the German author, Johann Karl August Musäus, The Stolen Veil, that tells about Odette, a beautiful girl, that was cursed to spend her entire day as a swan, returning to the shape of a woman only at night. The curse said that the spell can only be broken if one who has never loved before swears to love Odette forever. So, one day, at night, Prince Siegfried was hunting at a lakeside when he found her and fell in love.

But nothing would be so easily, even in the fairytales... On the other side from story, there was Von Rothbarth, an evil sorcerer, that disguised his daughter, Odile, to look exactly like Odette and deceive the Prince.

He watched the acts without really paying attention, just absorbing the Tchaikovsky’s melodies played by the intrumentalists when the act changed again and a new character entered in scene.

She was... Breathtaking. And he was speechless.

All dressed in black, stormy eyes and graceful intricate movements, she was the shape of hurricane and captvated Jamie completly... it was as if he was watching a whirlwind though the windows of his house, anxiously waiting for the moment when he would be dragged by her overpowering wind.

But in the meantime, he watched she dances...

Her movements were passionate and full of emotion... it was like seeing fairys dancing, slow and softly as the melody went down a few tones and chaotic as the melody rose. She never stopped, she never hesitated. She kept going and going, in ups and downs: passionate and enchanting.

He felt her angry, her love, her ambition every time she stretched her body, raised her thin but strong arms above her head or just around her; every time she raised her long legs on a elaborate movement and every time she changed her facial expression.

She was brilliant and ethereal, like something between the orphic and the magical.

She stole the scene, and being mushy, he could say that she stole a part of his heart too, (without any protest).

The Black Swan… She had already overwhelmed him.

ATO II — Dance Of Swans

Even when he left the stage, he kept in a chaotic silence inside himself. He tried, but he could not recognize the feelings he felt when he saw her leaving. He supposed to be watching the new act that was happening, but his mind was a mess.

Jamie was not a man who believed in love at first sight. He was a romantic, but not so daring. However, it was ironic that nothing could explain exactly what he felt beyond the words “love at first sight.”

He never had a experience like that in his life.

Jamie sighed, feeling the need of took a deep breath far from the audience, where her energy still hovered in the atmosphere. He left his place, calmly, and walked through the halls of the theater when he heard some loud voices.

Approaching himself from where he heard the noise, he could not help but heard the conversation of some dancers.

“I think she will not come back to the stage.” — then, the fiery hair woman sigh. — “She wants to be strong and she will not say that she’s tired, but if she keep dancing today, her feet...” — another sigh and a man near the woman took a deep breath too.

“Do you think it’s broken or just...?” — he asks.

“Not broken, yet.” — he heard the woman emphasizes the ‘yet’. — “But will be if she not leave someone take a look at it.”

“She still has two acts, what we gonna do without the ‘Black Swan’?” — Jamie’s heart sank. She was hurt and he could not just be here, listening to this and not trying help.

Using his 20 seconds of courage, he left the shadows and scared the both dancers, who looked at him with doubt eyes.

“Good-night, I-’’ — he cursed himself, what the hell was happening with him today? — “I could nae help, but I heard ye two sayin’ that someone is hurt. I’m a doctor. There is somethin’ I can help?” — he finished his introduction. The woman and the man took a moment to staring at him, looked over if he is confident, what apparently they decided he was.

“We don't have time... He will fit.” — the man said to his company. — “Our friend hurt her feet. It looks like it will swell...” — Jamie nodded, already in his doctor-mood while the dancers and him were walking through the hall to the backstage.

Jamie was the last to enter the room and when he saw her, the unknown feelings dragged him again.

She was just sitting in a chair clenching her feet, but he felt like she was tap-dancing on his heart.

“Claire, we found a doctor and he will look at your feet, so maybe you can come back and keep performing.” — the woman said. Then, Claire raised her face and looked at him.

Her stormy eyes (between blue and green as an ocean) met his eyes (just grains of sand) and Jamie prayed to the heaven.

Oh, Lord, if Ye are puttin' this rare woman in front of me... I hope she can be mine.

He approached of her and kneeled by her side without his eyes leaves hers.

“You do not need to do it, Sir.” — her english accent appeared and again, she choked his words. Furthermore, he already knew that the way she drawled the words, her hoarse and melodic voice would chase him in his dreams.

“Och, dinna fash, Sassenach.” — he tryed to wink, and saw her help a laugh. He helped frowned his head, confused. He already did something wrong? — “It’s a pleasure to help. ‘Dancers are the athletes of God’.”

“Uuh, Einsten...” — She recognises and so frowned her forehead. — “Had I thought Sassenach was an insult?”

Jamie wanted kill himself. Please, 5 minutes in her presence and he already had embarrassed himself.

“Och, lass, I dinna want tae insult you. It's just meaning ye are an English.”

She giggles.

“Yeah, somethings you can not change.” — he smiled and so, with a look, asked for her permission to touch her right feet. She smiled and with a Herculeos Effort, he helped himself to look at her with heart-stupid-eyes and started to squeezing it.

Realizing that the two dancers had left the room, Jamie felt the sweat run down his forehead and his hands freeze. Oh, please. Give me a chance, Lord.

He started his analyse of her feet, and Claire started analyzing him. His eyes his jaw, his hands squeezing calmly her bones. He was a beautiful man, probably at the 28 age, married and with one or two beautiful redhead child.

“My friends said you are a doctor.” — she starts a talk. Jamie nods.

“Aye, I’m a Trauma Surgeon.” — she sigh.

“Wow. This is amazing. They don't know, but I'm a doctor too, a neurosurgeon ... if you can call ‘I have med-school certificate’ like that...”

Jamie stops for a moment and looks ate her. Amazed. Dragged by her, again. Claire keeps winning it.

“Now, I have tae say ‘WOW’, Sassenach.” — he jokes and she smiles.

“None questions about how fool I’m for spend my time dancing when I have a doctor certificate in my safe box?” — she mocks herself.

“What ye feel when ye dance?” — he asks, instead. And she did not need time to think about it.

“I’m feel free.” — she says.

“So, there is my answer.” — he wink again and she smile, pure and enchanted.

She, despite the fact that he was a stranger, feel safe to share her stuffs with him. By the way, they probably will not meet again.

“I was tired. Tired to be a surgeon. I always loved to do my work,. it was what I always wanted to be. A doctor. A neurosurgeon. When I was in an O.R, I felt like I was on top of the the world. I felt I could do anything. But... with the love comes the responsabilities and the pressure, the oppression... I almost got depressed. So I stoped and came back to dance.” — she smiles. — “And I do not tell it to anyone, because... probably, I don't like the questions that came after.” — she slipped out with a sigh, at the the end. — “Do you can understand?”

He had stoped his analyses to listen to her, squeezing her hand in his, trying to comfort Claire a little bit. And a bubble seemed to catch they two, leaving they stuck in their own atmosphere.

“Aye, I get it. I was in the army.” — he tells. — “And when I came back, I thought I could not scrub in an O.R again. I loved surgery, bein’ a doctor, but it was like I was not in love anymore. I think it happens because we feel as a fraud. We supposed tae be healers, and we believe we are at the first moment, but then, we can not save all lives. Deaths are many than lifes saved and it destroys ye.”

Claire squeezed his hands, smiling at him. “Yes, it is exactly it. That’s why I left my job and started in a Ballet Company, travelling around the world with them.”

Jamie smiles. And, without realises, wrap his her hair around one of his ffingers stroking the black crows's curls.

“Ye are a wee brave thing, aren’t you?” — he asks, rhetorically, and the atmosphere changes completely. The friendly air turned out in a heated bubble. Just popped when Claire took her eyes off of him. Suddenly, very conscious that she did not even know his name yet.

He seemed steady as he kept talking.

“Well, Tchaikovisky did the same, ye ken. It’s incredible, aye, after all “a man who does not feed his dreams, grows old soon.” – he quotes Skakespeare, while kept analyzing her ballerina foot, squeezing in all the right places and, inevitably, pulling little noises from Claire, now. Jamie heard and almost interrupted his work, but with a Herculeous Effort, he kept doing his analysis.

“Oh, a trauma surgeon and a Skakespeare reader... You really are a MacDreamy.” — she drawled her words exactly as he found the hurt bone, letting a really loud noise came out of her mouth.

He tried, really really tried, but he could not help the feelings grownt in his veins, driving him near to edge of madness. It’s not right, in many ways. He could not rocognize himself, jamie thinks, but he never felt like that way before. He never felt this “longing alive”, this fever that he feels when he touches her. It makes him wants to build bridges between his aorta and core, just to see her spend dancing with her soft ballet shoes.

He took a deep breath, mentally. And play on doctor-mood again.

“It's not broken as ye ken, but my advice is keep it quiet for a moment, letting it rest.” — she nodded.

“But I have to go back to the stage soon...”

“Look, Claire,” — her name slipped out of his mouth, subtlety in his hoarse voice and accent, as if he had did it many time before.

He chokes her words, now. His voice saying her name was like a melodic song. Or a whisper in a silence night.

“I ken ye have to do it, but I bet for The Cross Of My Lord Jesus Christ, that this foot is hurtin’ as hell. So, ye can stay here. Resting. Or tryin’ go back and have me in that stage huntin’ ye and catchin' ye.” — he said, firmly but still softly. — Ye does not seem so heavy...” — she stared at him, hiding her surprise.

“Och, ye..” — she imitates, badly but reallly funny tentative, mooching. — “... will catch me?” — he nod, with a guttural noise from his throat and a wild look. She knew he was playing a character in that little scene she was building but she could not help the healed wave increasing in her core. “I would like to see you try it.” — she smiles, malicious, leaning foward in the chair to be closer to him.

“Och, Sassenach, dae not test me...” — he leans his head to her while she decided to touch his face, stroking his facial redhair.

“Why not?” — she asks, closer to his face. Her nose touching his. Her eyes just few cents to his.

“Ye ken what people say... play with fire and ye will get burned.” — he squeezed their noses a little bit until she leaned back, running, just to come closer again, back to the same position, giggling.

“‘One fire burns out another’s burning.’”— she smiles, sassy, as he dragged his nose across her face. — “And I never give a damn for other’s people opinion.”

“Good tae hear that.” — he says, looking at her in the eyes. So close that he could feel her breathing against his own mouth. He approached his lips of hers and she leaned back again.

“Cheeky.” — he winks.

She smiled and, holding his face between her two hands, looking at him in his blue eyes with undrilled burning fire in her pupil.

“I don’t even know your name, MacDreamy.” — he laughed.

“Och, lass...” — he does a little reverence, still on his knees. — “James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, at your service, ma’am.” — she nodded.

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.” — she introduces herself, properly now.

“Fits well, mo chride... Claire Elizabeth.” — he touchs his lips in his chin. — “Now, ye will have me?” — he whispers in Claire's lips.

“Yeah, I will have you.”

And then, without any word, they shocked their lips.

And the world tumbled down.

The overpowering wind he was waiting to dragged him at his windows finally came and was overwhelming.

Her lips is his, her hands in his face... but could be in his shoulders, arms, chest or neck... he could not say rightly because she was in everywhere. He felt her in all the places of his body, like she had absorbed him, entirely, just to burn Jamie with her fiery waves.

He was tightening up her neck to bring her closer to him, as if it was possible... and her hair... it already was a completely mess. But they kept kissing. Claire’s lips were meant to be his. And Jamie’s tongue was created to fit inside her mouth. They were puzzles, made for each other.

They kissed like there was no tomorrow, because maybe, really would not have it. But they took their moment and took advantage of their time together. Kissing and kissing until the air is needed.

At the end, it was a kiss of swans. Elegant, but ardent. And the premise of an unknown “forever”.

“Wow.” — she said, first. Her forehead in his, both nears to edge of the unexplored passion.

“Yes, wow.” — he can say, between his hard breaths.

“Just-” — she strokes his face. “Wow.” — Claire says again.

“Shaoil mi gum biodh mo chridhe a ’spreadhadh, mo nighean dhonn.”

She lay her head on his shoulders for a moment.

“What did you say?”

“I just though my heart was going to burst.” — he explains. She giggles, stroking her nose against his chin and cheek.

“Don’t you want to escape?” — she whispers in his ears.

“And the ballet...?” — he asks, dizzy.

“My doctor said to rest my foot very well... and I have a surrogate.” — he laughed.

“Now, I’m yeur doctor?” — Jamie provokes.

“Yeaahh.” — she drawled it. — “And I’m going put this foot on the floor now...” — she provokes, her voice going down a few tones. — “And I will start running away from here. Will you join me or-“ — she bites his ear lobe. — “-will you stay here, all alone in this sad room?”

He roared, softly.

“You are such a vixen.”

She gets up from the chair and starts to run to the exit door.

“Come find me.”

God knows he would go.

#jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #claire fraser #outlander #sam x cait #jaime x claire #jamie fraser #swan lake

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mocacheezy · 3 years

Text

And the title of "Was so amusing I forgot he was supposed to represent a ruthless villain" goes to: ✨Beast Wars Megatron (1996)✨

[Show spoilers below, but you probably know that already.]

Extra note: I am a TF newbie. This is my opinion and I don't have all the details for the many continuities that exist. I just need to scream about a purple T-Rex.

As the shows main villain, he seems more comical than threatening, but during the second and third season he:

Cut out an immortal spark from a failed Maximal science experiment, and continuously used it to torture said experiment (both for his amusement AND practicality, since Rampage would destroy him otherwise)

Called a deformed protoform ugly, "with an ugly name to match its appearance", and called it useless since it is unable to transform.

(Yeah, the above doesn't sound bad or unusual by villain standards, but these are things that had me go "What the fuck, aren't you the theatre kid of a villain? What is this?!", so if it made me react like that it's on the list. The following things also contribute to my reaction)

Set up the before mentioned protoform to an impossible task of essentially killing all Maximals and bringing proof of their deactivation as a test of its competence (bring me their heads... Dramatic✨)

By calling it useless since "It can't even transform!", he is spitting on the name of his predecessor, the original Megatron

(I am atleast 90% certain that G1 Megatron (and any other Megatron really) would take a look at it, figure out if it can hold a gun/fight/be useful and let it fight. Can't even transform my ass, as long as it can be manipulated and/or fight for the Cons it doesn't matter if it can or can't transform you copper bitch!)

Decided to cut the Maximal science experiment's immortal spark in half to create a new Frankensteined transmetal super soldier.

In order to obtain more power he took the original Megatron's spark and "mingled" it with his. And by mingled, I mean he inserted it into his own spark chamber with his own spark and kept it there. Not intending to return it to the original frame most likely.

Until the very last episode of the third season, until the last 10 or so minutes, it looked like he was going to win. I am talking the whole "Are the good guys going to win?" kind of doubt on my end.

But the real kicker and the reason why I'm so shocked?

He was in character through all of this! He didn't get "more evil" or "crazier" or "ruthless" as the seasons progressed. He wasn't "meaner" or "less charismatic". He behaved precisely as he did in the first season, same dramatics in his movements and speech and all of that!

The only difference was that he was doing something actually threatening and villainous in front of us viewers!

That's what had me staring at the screen with wide eyes; the fact I got fooled by his personality and didn't perceive him as an actual threat.

From the 3 shows I finished watching so far (Prime, Animated, Beast Wars) he threw me in for the biggest fucking loop.

Because with other Megatrons it's very clear what kind of a villain they are from the start:

Prime Megatron looks like a threat, moves like a threat, and while he has charisma, we don't see it that often. And he has dramatics, but those are mostly reserved for fights with Optimus or Unicron-poprock-crystal-candy induced hallucinations. And even then it's more like grand, over the top speeches, not silliness.

Animated Megatron has class. He is charismatic and uses this to his advantage to the extreme. He manipulates everyone and anyone, his followers are ready to fight eachother for a crumb of his praise, and a chance to be called "most loyal". He has dramatics (more than just the fact he twists his oil barrels into goblets) and he has embarassing moments infront of his troops, but those are due to circumstances, not him being silly.

I am in the process of watching Cyberverse, and so far this Megatron is a threat, doesn't seem like much of a threat when fighting the autobots, and to my limited spoiler-fueled knowledge, will become a bigger threat later on.

Take another look at Beast Wars Megatron and tell me if you'd consider this guy a threat:

He monologues and laughs TheVillainLaugh so often, you start to expect it and just wait for it most episodes. At one point he laughs so hard he ends up choking on it. And after his coughing fit he resumes his plan monologue as if nothing happened. And it's not like the other Predacons don't acknowledge their boss' behaviour:

That doesn't mean he doesn't have some loyal Predacons; Scorponok, Waspinator and Inferno being the ones that come to mind (also the ones that crave his approval and praise the most), with the other Preds leaning more towards treachery. But how he handles treachery or disobedience or even talking back, where it seems like he's bantering, not threatening them,

His personality just doesn't fit with the traits and behaviours the other two Megatrons exibit, the kind of traits that I started to expect of Megatron as a character.

He doesn't fit my perception of a Megatron that is a threat.

Which, considering the narrative of transformers, says alot about me and the way I essentially placed the character into a mold and went "alright, angry, commands and demands attention, can be ruthless, is stupid enough to keep a guy as his SIC/ on his team, despite multiple murder attempts and scheming".

Now, if we get into actual details, Beast Wars Megatron wouldn't count as "an actual Megatron", since the show itself is set after the Great War between the autobots and decepticons, G1 timeline. This Megatron took his predecessors name, so for all we know his name could be Joe before he changed it.

But his actions and the "destroy and conquer and lay the groundwork for future plans while you're causing mayhem" thing he has going on? That is Megatron behaviour as far as I can see.

And, granted, Beast Wars is the oldest out of the three shows I've watched (Animated 2007, Prime 2011), and so he is older than both of them, his characterization might be much closer to G1 than both Prime and Animated!

But before this becomes a full on essay full of misinformation (and more spelling mistakes), I'll just give my thanks to each continuity being it's own thing, with enough variety to keep you on your toes, while expecting how the general plot might go.

I hate that I can't even fully hate him, because he is so incredibly entertaining, so I am stuck looking @ the screen, cursing the fucking prehistoric grape lizard fidget spinner of the future, because he is so vile but he does it in style.

Here's a flattering picture of him as I seethe.

🎉Congratulations you metal Barney on rollerskates!🎉 You are truly despicable, the worst! I hope you choke on a rubber ducky💕

[He also gets a smaller trophy for his Transmetal MegaMode (or whatever it is called officially), because its a fucking dragon. He went from a bubblegum T-rex, to a copper rollerskating T-rex that can fly, to a red and gold dragon that can breathe fire and ice. So yeah, drastic transformation wise, no competition here, as well as levels of drama that came with each alt.]

#Moca talks #transformers #beast wars megatron #I simultainously love AND hate the bitch #(and I forgot to post this rant as soon as it was drafted so egh)#moca screeches

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4thbrighteststar · 2 years

Note

Hiya kiddo! I am late to the game! Give me five weird asks that you wanna answer that you haven't yet. Or answer one you've done with a second answer. I am not picky. Have a wonderful evening mwah <3

hi petal @cringeycal my love. thank you for letting me choose these, I found so many questions I didn't even know were on the list

28. five songs to describe you?

to know me is to know wake up from julie and the phantoms. that song is a lifeline for me and chances are that if you've been my friend for longer than a year, you have heard me sing it. I wrote a play heavily influenced by daylight by taylor swift, so that's number two. take on the world - the girl meets world theme song - never fails to get me hyped. break down the walls from austin and ally was the soundtrack to my childhood, and forbidden friendship from the httyd ost is the reason I play music. these didn't really describe me but they tell you a Lot about me so I'm going to say that's fine.

30. places that you find sacred?

there's a little playground about three blocks away from my house with a swing which I call my therapy swing, where I go to clear my head or process things - that's one of my close-to-home ones. away from home - I grew up about an hour and a half away from the rocky mountains, and my elementary/junior high school took us to the same mountain multiple times every year. we would hike up about a third of the trail and then go off the trail to an outcropping on the side of the mountain, have lunch and journal, and then come back down. I found it on my own again last year! I don't get to see it very often but it's magical every time I do.

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

"A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams." - John Barrymore. I don't even know who john is - the reason this quote is special to me is because my first high school band teacher gave it to me. It was part of one of those quote-a-day advent calendars, and she was throwing most of them away, but she read that one, looked me up and down, and said "yeah, this one suits you." I felt like THE main character. I still have the calendar note hung up on my bulletin board.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

1. biggest depressive episode of my life during quarantine. 2. telling my south asian science-degree parents I wanted to go into theatre. 3. learning how to love science again after I was mildly traumatized by academia.

93. nicknames?

I love nicknames! as you probably knew lmao. my favourite nickname for myself is moni, which is a pet name in my mother tongue and the tail end of my first name with an -i instead of an -a. my favourite nickname I've given someone else is sunrise, which is like sunshine but way more powerful because it's 1. a reference to a piece of art we created together and 2. a symbol of my faith in that person's ability to get back up again after he's knocked down. also shout out to the nickname petal. some of my best work honestly.

#love you petal #love letter <3 #ask game

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morbidly-malicious-muffins · 4 years

Text

What Kind of Music Slashers Would Vibe to Headcanons♪

This little thing popped into my head. Fyi, the canon timelines are thrown out the window for this so... Yeah.

Bring forth the bop~

RZ Michael Myers

"Let my weapons be your children, let my armies be your damned. Try to suffer on in silence, try to stop me if you can." --- This Cold Black by Slipknot

I think he'd really enjoy metal in general. I can totally see him unknowingly stomping to some Marilyn Manson and Meshuggah, though the lyrics and message probably will just fly over his head.

He listens to some heavy shit, but probably all the more mainstream bands/artists.

The loudness and organized chaos of the genre fills the void in his soul and reflects the state of his mind, despite his stoic and non-verbal outer demeanor.

Someone please do everyone a favor and introduce Michael to some death metal. Admit it, it really fits his aesthetic.

This is just based on speculation, but I suspect a 70% possibility of RZ Michael resonating with Cannibal Corpse. Fight me.

He hates classical music with a burning passion. Back in Smith's Grove, they played Bach's Air Sul G on tap. (its canon in the first movie lmao) He hates it. Mikey no likey.

Freddy Krueger

"No stop signs, speed limit, nobody's gonna slow me down. Like a wheel, gonna spin it, nobody's gonna mess me around." --- Highway to Hell, by AC/DC

Freddy listens to classic rock, period.

This guy is ngl a supporter of music taste discrimination. You listen to pop? Disgusting. You listen to Jazz? Disgusting. Classic rock is the epitome of all music.

He'll call you music-related slurs you never knew existed.

As stubborn adamant as Freddy is, he does harbor some guilty pleasures, including 70's hair metal and glam rock. Pshh. What a heckin hypocrite.

Some of his all time favorites are Guns N' Roses, Led Zeppelin, Van Halen, and AC/DC.

(Basic bitch)

*Hip thrust movements to go with his 'The Sprinkler' dance moves, Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses blasting in the background*

OG Michael Myers

He doesn't listen to music, but if he did, he would probably enjoy Jazz.

Michael only listens to Miles Davis because he enjoys his music and can't be bothered to discover more artists.

Oml Michael I know Miles Davis is amazing but don't neglect other iconic artists plzzz. Someone please make him listen to some Teddy Wilson and/or Dave Brubeck.

I imagine him sitting stiff-straight on a rocking chair (he just likes how it moves), knife in his lap, rocking and zoning-out relaxing to 'Blue in Green'. (I love that piece)

#AfterHeFinallyKillsLaurie

#RetirementGoals

He also hates classical music because of the same reason as RZ Myers. Seriously, if either of them so much as hears the opening chord of Air Sul G, expect the speaker to be stomped to a pulp in a split second.

Bubba Sawyer

Alright let's all be honest with ourselves... 70's pop and country is Bubba's shit.

Look me in the face and tell me he wouldn't adore ABBA, The Jackson 5, and Dolly Parton. Thats right you can't

Everytime 'Dancing Queen' starts playing on the radio, Bubba will drop everything and start busting down.

Ain't nothing and nobody stoppin him. Drayton is powerless against the supreme sovereignty that is ABBA.

But let's also appreciate the fact that our Bubster can motherfuckin get down. *wipes sweat from forehead + heart eyes*

He would also do passionate lip sync with his heart and soul, to Dolly Parton's 'I Will Always Love You'.

50% chance of him starting to cry right after he finishes his earnest performance.

*Holding Bubba in your arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he bawls hysterically, incoherently babbling on about how much he loves you*

I also feel for some reason he'd really like Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

Thomas Hewitt

"For one moment, I wish you'd hold your stage, with no feelings at all. Open minded, I'm sure I used to be so free." --- Citizen Erased by Muse

Y'know what I have a hard time imagining the type of music Tommy listens to. Kutos, Mr. Hewitt, you have defeated me.

siKE

(This is where I yeet the timeline out of the window y'all)

Thomas enjoys Muse, Evanescence, and Radiohead. (Fight me)

He just loves how emotional their songs are. He'd have one earbud in as he works away at his projects for hours. The music helps him concentrate, it is also a source of emotional support to him.

Hearing the heart-wretching lyrical content of 'Lost in Paradise' performed so beautifully by Amy Lee's angellic voice is really comforting to him. It's like hearing about another person's experiences. It makes him feel less alone in dealing with his emotional and mental turmoils and burdens.

The first time Thomas heard 'Creep' by Radiohead, he almost cried.

He also listens to My Chemical Romance sometimes. He only knows the Black Parade album, but he loves it. If 'Creep' didn't make him cry, listening to that entire album from top to bottom sure did. He started sobbing half-way through 'Famous Last Words'.

Tommy is emotional boi 🥺

Brahms Heelshire

C l a s s i c a l

No matter how stinky Brahms is, you can't tell me that he's not classy.

Schubert is his bitch. Schubert's style tends to be quite majestic and/or dreamy, (generally) and can change color/sound very abruptly yet appropriately. (This is just my opinion based on experience with Schubert's pieces, but then I only know his piano pieces soo) (let's still cue that maestoso to scherzando transition)

But of course, Schubert isn't the only thing he listens to. He prefers the romantic period, so Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff, Chopin, Shostakovich, Brahms, Schumann, you get the gist, all the staples. Oh yeah Elgar too. To be a proud English lad.

*Brahms swaying in the living room with the grace of a baby giraffe, engrossed in the beautiful melodies in Schumann's Kinderszenen.*

(Oml please check out 'Von fremden Landern und Manschen' and 'Kind im Einschlummern') (For those who play piano, they aren't that difficult too totally recommend) (Ok sorry I'm done now)

Brahms would totally waltz around alone to Chopin's waltzes and nocturnes.

Oh yeah apart from that classy shit, he likes to jam to meme songs.

"Hey now, you're an all star, get your game on, go play---"

*cut to Brahms passionately fortnite dancing*

Listens to The Strange Man Who Sings About Dead Animals for a good laugh. (Please, all of his songs are gold)

Vincent Sinclair

He'll have 'emo' and 'classical' with a side of metal, thanks.

I headcanon that Vinny McWaxy is an INFJ, so the boy is likely prone to crippling existentialism. It would make sense for some aspects of his music taste to reflect that.

*cut to Vincent sitting rock-still on his workbench/stool, hands hover in mid-air, staring straight ahead, some John Cage piece playing*

You'll never hear this from Vincent but he enjoys sexy-time music. He has this whole erotic playlist he listens to while working. (Boy likes to feel sexy on the job, I respect that.)

I think its pretty much canon that Vinny loves MCR. (Hello fellow emo piece of shit 👋) His favorites are everything by them really. A hardcore fan. He used to have MCR, P!ATD, and 30 Seconds to Mars posters plastered everywhere in his workshop until he had to remove them all to add to the intimidation factor of his waxy hell for passer-bys. For the record, he is very gay for Frank Iero.

On the metal part of his spectrum is mostly classic metal, groove metal, and thrash/heavy metal.

Rammstein, Pantera, Vildhjarta, new and old Metallica, Dream Theatre, Coheed and Cambria. His bitches.

He also uses music to scare victims when bringing them down to his workshop. *cue horror movie soundtracks*

*KI KI KI MA MA MA*

Is a whore for the dramatics when in a good mood.

*Lacrimosa by Mozart plays as he makes a point to bring the wax painfully slowly down toward a drowsy and petrified victim*

A lament for your upcoming death, pitiful human.

Bo Sinclair

"The day has come for all us sinners, if you're not a servant you'll be struck to the ground." -- Beast and The Harlot by Avenged Sevenfold

Bastard boy is into dad-music™. (same)

Dad rock, classic rock, pop punk, punk rock, old school pop, his shit.

He listens to a lot of the same bands as Freddy, but Bo (generally) doesn't discriminate and explores a more diverse variety of music.

Its a fandom canon that Bo loves Avenged Sevenfold. I totally agree.

A7x is the perfect amount of cynical, political, and shred for Beauregard, (I hc that ge hates his full name so plz don't ever call him Beauregard)

He listens to the radio whenever he's at work. Whatever that might be.

Will NEVER admit it, but he thinks Vinny's music taste is dope as hell.

He'll turn off the radio just to strain his ears to listen to Vincent's music downstairs. No one will ever know that though. You don't.

Actually likes classical music too. Its not one of his main genres but there's one piece he really likes, Second Movement of Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Major.

He never thought he'd enjoy this type of music. Its so.... Calm. He discovered that piece from Vinny's playlist. When he first heard it on his brother's speaker, he fell in love. It was one of the extremely rare cases in which he'd be committed enough to ask Vinny the name of the music.

Tiny shuffle for man-kind, huge fuckin step for Bo. Good job Bo, we're proud of you.

Also pleeeeeaaase message me or request stuff, I'm bored and have little inspiration 🦊

I might do a pt2 of this, since I didn't write many of the boys and gals🤷‍♀️

Also sorry if I've neglected some genres/artists (Like i've neglected non-piano classical pieces.... Bc ya girl is just a pianist), a person can't know everything😗

---Zali 🖤

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iplaymatchmaker · 3 years

Note

hello and good day! i would like a matchup for a3! and ikerev, please! she/her pronouns. you can call me juice, though! hm i think a good description of me personality wise would be im usually cheerful, friendly, childish but i tend to hide a lot of my negative feelings and overthink quite a lot. towards others i'm always curious about the littlest details of someone's hobbies or interest and sometimes i talk more than i listen. love literature and things like fashion or games (1)

Hello, thanks for requesting juice! Sorry for the long wait but I hope you enjoy it! I was pretty excited to write a match up for a3! since it’s been living rent free in my head for the last few weeks. I got a little carried away with the last prompt cause it was so fun to write, but I hope you like it! Also, the ikerev one might take some time but I’ll try to not take too long. Have fun!

I match you with

Tsuzuru!

The two of you first meet after you watch one of their plays, “A Clockwork Heart.” When you realize that the lead and writer is a classmate of yours from college you can’t help but approach him a few days later to discuss the play further.

He seems self conscious at first but quickly opens up as the two of you discuss his script and before you know it one conversation has turned into an in-depth discussion over lunch.

After that first encounter, both of you start talking more often, quickly growing closer. Tsuzuru appreciates your cheerful attitude, making it easy for him to be comfortable around you.

Considering your love for literature, you often help him brainstorm for new ideas, always looking forward to seeing how he brings it to life on stage.

It is easy for you to fit in with the rest of the boys from Mankai, despite their constant prying on your relationship with Tsuzuru. After all the time the two of you spend together, it is no surprise when none of the boys (except Azami) bat an eyelash when you make it official, after a lot of back and forth between friendship and romance.

Prompt: Bonding

“The reason S was created in the first place was because Luke needed a companion. It’s tragic that he was the one who left him in the end.”

“Well, yes, but he also taught him to open up to people, insuring that he wouldn’t be alone when he was gone.”

You and Tsuzuru had been discussing the end of his latest play “A Clockwork Heart” for a while, arguing over whether or not the ending was tragic. When you approached him to offer your praise for his work earlier that day you hadn’t been expecting him to engage in your opinions on a play he wrote, but he was actually deeply invested in the conversation, despite the matter at hand being trivial to the actual substance of the story.

“He couldn’t have known though. He also put his own wishes aside to protect him. That alone makes the ending tragic.” You vividly remembered the tears you had shed when the show reached its climax, a result of both his script and his acting.

“It depends on your idea of what the ending was. S was a machine, so as long as Luke was alive they could meet again, when it was safe for the both of them. That makes the ending-“

Ring Ring

You almost chucked at the generic sound his phone made as it vibrated.

“Give me a sec.” he moved away from the bench before answering. It wasn’t long before he returned, a flush expression on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had kept you for so long. I actually need to get going.” He ran a hand through his hair, smiling shyly. It was only then that you noticed what time it was.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you for that long!” Now you were both flushed, the realization dawning on you that you had spent two hours talking.

“I-it’s fine. Um, we can continue this tomorrow, if you’d like?” you were surprised he actually wanted to talk again, a smile spreading over your face.

“Definitely. “

“Okay. See you then!” he waved as he ran off while simultaneously trying to dial someone, resulting in him almost falling on his face. You looked forward to tomorrow.

After that first encounter, you continued to meet during lunch to talk about other works, quickly realizing you had a similar taste in books and movies. It was an easy transition, going from acquaintances to friends.

“How’s the summer troupe’s play coming along?” It was easy to tell that he had been losing sleep again from the – almost – comical black circle under his eyes, but you asked anyway, hoping that you could offer some help.

“I know what I want to write, the words are just refusing to form and settle themselves on the page.” The frustration was evident on his face as he tried to put the pieces flying around his head in order. You tried to think of a way to help him but you knew that he needed to figure this out on his own.

“Come on.” You forcefully pulled him out of his chair, carefully shutting his laptop.

“W-wait. Where are we going?” you pushed him along, despite his protesting.

“Trust me.” You flashed him your biggest smile before setting of, only mildly aware that your hand was still around his wrist.

“The movies?” he seemed confused over what your objective was but you were confident it would help him out of his slump.

“Yes. Come on, I’ll even get us popcorn!” you were beaming as you led him inside.

“What are we watching?” Tsuzuru, finally resigned to his fate, flipped through the leaflet, looking at the moves currently playing.

“Your choice, I’m fine with whatever.” You hurried to the bar to pick up snacks, leaving him at the ticket booth.

“Look at those effects.”

“The acting is top notch.”

Tsuzuru had been so immersed in the movie he seemed to have forgotten all about his tiredness. When you exited the theatre you could practically see the gears turning in his head.”

“It’s a very different take on pirates than the summer troupe’s play, but if I exaggerate the characters even more then there would be great opportunity for comedy.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you as you observed him, completely lost in his own mind.

“So I take it the creative juices are flowing again?” he looked back at you, as if seeing you clearly for the first time in days.

“Yes! Thank you!” He put his arms around you, too far lost in his excitement to feel any awkwardness.

“I-I have to go write! I’ll see you tomorrow.” He continued shouting thank you over his shoulder as he run off with newfound energy. You expected you wouldn’t see him the next day, considering he’d probably be passed out by then, but you smiled anyway.

“See you later!”

Prompt : Cinderella:

“So, you’re thinking of doing Cinderella for the next play?” You and Tsuzuru were hanging out in his room, taking full advantage of Masumi’s absence that weekend.

“Yeah… I’m not sure how to go about it though. Everyone in the Spring Troupe agreed that I should be lead this time around but I just don’t see myself in the shoes of a prince… Itaru would probably be a better fit for the role.” You couldn’t help throwing a pillow his way.

“Hey! What was that for?” You sat up a little straighter, tempted to glare at him until he picked up on your annoyance.

“I can definitely picture you in the role of the prince.” You cleared your throat before switching to your best narrator voice.

A long, long time ago there lived a boy and a girl. They were the best of friends when they were children. The boy would often sneak out to meet with her and they would play for hours. But their happiness would not last long.

You see, the girl grew up to be the maid of one of the less-fortunate royal families in the kingdom. She had been forced into that position by her father’s latest wedding. It would also turn out to be his last, for he died a few years later, leaving her in the care of a wicked stepmother.

One the other hand, the boy grew up to be the most charming prince in the land. The women fawned over him and he always had everything his heart could desire.”

“I’m literally none of those things.”

“Fine then.”

The prince was an idiot who didn’t know how to take care of himself and never asked for help. He constantly worried his friends over his health but they loved him anyway.

“That’s not any better…”

“Shh, let me continue the story.”

Their difference in class ripped the two friends apart, putting an end to their relationship. While they weren’t allowed to meet again, they promised to never forget about each other. To keep that promise, the made matching bracelets and agreed to never take them off until they could meet again.

“Friendship bracelets? Who does that?”

“They were kids! Would you have preferred rings?”

“Wouldn’t those basically be promise rings?”

“I’m coming up with this on the spot, give me a break!”

That bracelet was what gave the girl the strength to continue living, despite her struggles.

When news of a ball arrived at the estate, her step-sisters were quick to start preparations, eager to have a chance at the prince’s hand in marriage. The girl was simply happy at the prospect of seeing her friend again.

When her family found out she was planning to attend the ball, they locked her in the cellar, not willing to risk any competition. The girl wept and wept, until suddenly a kind seeming lady appeared in front of her.

“Isn’t this just the movie?”

“Give it a second!”

The lady promised she would help her get to the ball if that was what she wished. Despite her suspicions, the girl earnestly declared that all she wanted was to see her friend again. And so the kind woman flicked her wrist and the rags the girl had been wearing were replace by a rich ball gown, paired with a glass slippers. The girl thanked her again and again before heading off in search of her lost friend.

“She doesn’t warn her about the time limit?”

“There’s no curfew here, it’s a stupid conflict anyway.”

You couldn’t contain the excitement and adrenaline that flowed through you as you went up the steps of the grand palace. You hadn’t been here since you were a child, when the king’s father still allowed you to visit, and childhood memories flooded your mind. It was difficult to keep your nerves at a reasonable level as you approached the guards at the front gate. By the time you had arrived at the palace, most of the guests were already inside, so you were completely alone when you handed the invitation, hoping the witch had done her work well.

“Enjoy your evening.” They smiled before urging you to step inside. A sense of awe filled you as you walked through the somewhat familiar halls, remembering all the places you and Tsuzuru would hide from the servants, before his title meant anything to you.

You weren’t sure you remembered the way to the main hall, so you followed the noise, hoping you could make your way there.

When you finally stood outside what seemed to be the entrance, you took a few deep breaths before walking forward, determined to see your friend again. When you stepped though the door you quickly realized that the door wasn’t the room’s main entrance, but the top of the grand staircase. Dread filled you as everyone’s eyes fell on you. If it wasn’t for the railing you thought you have fainted right then and there. You breathed in, allowing you hand to wrap around the bracelet the two of you had made so long ago, letting the warm feelings it carried spread through you.

You bowed once before making your way down the stairs, hoping you wouldn’t trip on your dress and make a fool of yourself before the night even started.

The moment you were off the last step, your eyes fell on your step-mother, eyeing you with absolute envy and disgust. You hoped the mask would be enough to conceal your identity.

You walked around the room for a bit, keeping to the less populated areas, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tsuzuru, disappointed to find that he was nowhere to be found.

“Please let this not be for nothing…”

You were about to make your way to the balcony, but a swarm of guests was suddenly in your path, dancing to the waltz the band had just started playing. You frantically looked around, searching for a way out when two arms wrapped around you, pulling you along with the rest of the dancers.

“I guess you’re my partner?” the face of the man that stood before you made your jaw drop. You had thought of so many things to say, but now that Tsuzuru was standing before you, the words seemed to catch in your throat.

“So, uh, are you having fun?” he was as awkward as you remembered. Something about the familiarity filled you with a sense of calm. I found him.

“I am now.” It was hard to contain the smile quickly spreading around your face.

“Actually I was-“that was when it was time to switch partners. When you felt his hand slip from yours, panic flooded through you. No… I didn’t have the chance to tell him.

As he pulled his hand away, his fingers brushed the bracelet on your wrist, eyes widening as he was whisked away by another partygoer, realization evident in his features. You tried to get closer, but were quickly taken away by another guest. Your eyes landed on Tsuzuru a few times but the hall was too crowded. It was almost suffocating. You took the first chance to slip out on the balcony, eager to get away from the crowds.

You stood at the railing, letting the air cool down your heated face. He had seen you, but you weren’t sure he would care enough to search. Negative thoughts occupied your mind as you gazed at the land beyond. Maybe this was foolish… He probably barely remembers me… He’s a prince after all. He was more important matter to attend to than a peasant he used to spend his free time with. You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your own loneliness catching up with you.

“Please don’t cry!” You were shocked to find Tsuzuru standing a few feet away from you, his face flushed and his knees bent. He must’ve been running.

“You’re the girl from back then, aren’t you?” he glanced down at your wrist, pulling up his own sleeve to reveal a bracelet identical to yours.

“Y-you kept it.” Your voice cracked, barely audible in the midst of the ongoing celebrations.

“Of course I did! It meant a lot to me.” The words seemed to call to something inside you and so you let the tears fall.

“W-what did I do? Please don’t cry!” he took a step closer, still unsure of what boundaries existed between you.

“I-I can’t help it. I’m just so happy!” you wrapped your arms around him, not caring who saw you. All that mattered in that moment was that the two of you were reunited at last.

“I missed you.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was crying too, by the way his heart beat against your, the way his hands shook, still wrapped around you in a tight embrace. Year’s worth of loneliness and regret spilled out of the both of you in a single moment.

You stayed like that for quite some time, allowing the relief to wash over you. When you looked at each other again, you couldn’t help but laugh at your state. You knew the scene must look ridiculous to any outside spectators, but none of them mattered. It felt like you were alone in the world, no barriers between you. Your class didn’t matter. You were just a boy and a girl who had been reunited.

“ The king was skeptical at first, knowing a commoner queen wouldn’t create any new alliances, but he could see the love his son had for the girl. And so they married. It’s said that the pair practically run down the stairs of the palace after their wedding, eager to get to their honeymoon, their laughter echoing through the streets.”

“That’s an ending befitting a prince Muku reads about in manga… I still don’t see where I fit into this… ”

“Fine. As they descended the staircase, the prince fell on his ass, causing even more laughter from the girl. A moment she would never let him forget.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the earnest look on Tsuzuru’s face. He may be clumsy, but he has always been kind.

“It will need a lot modifications, especially considering the fact that none of us can exactly pull off female roles, but it could work.” At some point through the story Tsuzuru seemed to have pulled out a notebook, in which he was now scribbling away.

“Are you seriously taking notes?” he was still focused on the story, not letting the inspiration go to waste.

“Of course I am. You’re brilliant!” he pulled you in for a kiss, taking you completely by surprise.

“You’re the best.” He turned back to his note taking, leaving you with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

“You too.”

And they lived happily ever after.

#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! tsuzuru #tsuzuru minagi #a3! matchups

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