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dameferre · 3 years

Note

can we see a snippet from the "penpals!" courferre one :0

of course! i will warn you this will. most likely never see the light of day BUT it’s based off of ‘the year of secret assignments’ by jaclyn moriarty, a... kind of ridiculous book i bought at a charity shop at like. age 10? or something

basically these three sets of teenagers are assigned pen pals at a neighboring school, and hijinks ensue, with one set of penpals giving each other secret assignments (hence the title), the other set of penpals being a girl who writes to a guy who uses a fake name (that plotline ends horribly, it would not have done so in my fic lmao)

one finally one set of penpals (a boy and a girl) decide to start having practice dates, so the guy can hone his skills and ask out a girl he likes, and the girl can critique his form, and... i mean i think we all know how this goes.

anyway, it’s half in letter format, half actual writing the story. here’s a snip! (under the cut because i. couldn’t help myself)

Official Assessment of the Second Meeting By Chance executed by The Lord of Flowers, Combeferre, henceforth referred to as the Subject, as reviewed by Courfeyrac the Ravishing, henceforth referred to as The Operative.

NOTES

When the Operative (and Guest) approached, the Subject smiled very nicely. It was a sort of surprised, warm smile that lit up his face. Did the Subject practice his ‘oh I was hoping to see you and I’m so glad I have’ smile in the mirror?

The Subject did a very good job of consoling the Guest, and as it turns out, the Subject’s height is not as offensive as previously thought, as he holds an umbrella perfectly.

The Subject was much more relaxed this time, and funny, and his hair fluffed a little in the humidity which was adorable. He had a great way of explaining things to the Operative without being patronising, and teased admirably. The Operative spent a good 80% of the walk laughing, but upon writing report can’t remember a specific instance of hilarity. The Subject should have more memorable jokes next time.

Overall, great work Combeferre. You’ll have Feuilly falling over himself to get to you in no time.

Yours,

Courfeyrac the Ravishing

Courfeyrac,

You seem to be losing your touch; that last review lacked the mildly insulting bluntness I’ve grown so accustomed to. Does this mean we’re becoming friends?

Anyway, I’m now, as you would say, ‘balls-deep in tech week’ and halfway through my descent into the deepest pit of hell. The entire production is an original script written by a friend of mine, named Jehan Prouvaire, who decided to rewrite the final scene this weekend. They’re my friend, have been for years, but even I wanted to murder them slowly. The cast is hard at work trying to learn the scene, while I had to stay late last night redoing all the cues.

The worst part of it is, the new ending is fucking fantastic, so we can’t even stay mad at them.

It’s exhausting. Literally exhausting; I got three hours of sleep last night.

Anyway, I’m writing this as a way of avoiding calculus homework. Not that I wouldn’t write to you if I didn’t have calculus homework, but it is harder to just ramble on about my life now that we’ve met in person. I don’t think I ever would have told you about Feuilly if we had met before we started writing. There was something in the anonymity that made it easier, like writing into a diary. I hope you don’t take this as an insult- what I mean to say is that now that I know you, I want you to like me. And by extension, I want you to know a lot less about exactly how lame I am.

Anyway, I wanted to say I won’t be able to make a meeting by chance this week, though I know telling you that ruins some of the fun. If I’m around next week, which is really looking less and less likely every time an actor misplaces a prop or mic pack and I am forced, once again, to weigh the pros and cons of murder, I’d be happy to accidentally run into you on my way home from school.

Side note- Avi(my brother) comes home next week, which lines up nicely with Mom’s birthday and means he’ll be able to see the show. It’ll be nice to have him back. I think you’d like him; he’s the attractive one in the family, and the extrovert. He’s also a mechanical engineer who medal-ed in track when he was my age. Basically, he got all the good genes, but he’s too nice to admit it.

Anyway, calculus beckons.

See you on the other side, Combeferre

p.s. Only you would practice a smile. Mine was genuine, I swear.

My Dearest Combeferre,

FIRST DAY OF PRACTICE STARTS TOMORROW HELL YEAH

I mean, yes, technically the other guys on my team have been practicing for two weeks but I have sadly been out of commission. BUT NOT ANYMORE BABY THE BITCH IS BACK

This will help distract me from the pain and yearning as I wait a whole week to see you again. I’ll be wistfully wandering the moors before Saturday, mark my words.

I’m also fascinated by the idea of a brother who’s you, but more attractive. Does it hurt to look at him directly? Do strangers fall in love on the spot? Is he officially considered a menace to society because he’s caused traffic accidents and ruined weddings by walking past at the wrong moment?

Someone should put a stop to him before things get out of control! No man should wield such power.

The idea that you, of gorgeous cheekbones, perfect hair, jawline, and eyes and face in general, notorious multi-tasker, valedictorian and walking encyclopedia, not to mention polyglot, could think someone else got the good genes means either you are humble to the point of actively lying to yourself or your brother is a minor deity.

Courfeyrac, I can hear you saying, flattery really isn’t necessary.

But it is! Enjolras, who I’ve mentioned before and is my best friend in the whole world, is gorgeous to the point of being inconvenient to look at. I’m a notorious flirt, I know this, and I’m good at it, but we’re not even in the same league when it comes to making people question their sexualities. He walks into a room and you can see half the people inside mentally decide they’re bi-curious. He’s also a raving lunatic and antagonistic asshole, which he openly accepts and takes pride in, but try to tell him he’s attractive and he looks at you like you’ve just suggested he’s got wings or a tail. So what I’m trying to say, I think, is that I’m used to people not realising how good looking they are. And bludgeoning them with compliments is my way of dealing with this.

Anyway. Getting sidetracked.

I’m flattered you use me as a method of procrastination! I’m gonna make myself a button that says ‘more interesting than calculus’ and wear it with pride. Also, is writing to pen pals not mandatory at the Academy? We’re given a half hour block during the study period. When we first started, Enjolras said the whole thing was “infantile and outdated and a waste of time”, but at this very moment he is on page six (6) of his latest aggressive correspondence to his mystery R, even though I saw what R sent him last time and it was, I shit you not, an envelope that was empty except for a tiny (approx. 3 centimeters long) rubber chicken. For context, the one before was a thorough analysis of wage inequality written entirely in pig latin.

I hope one day I meet this person, even if immediately afterwards they steal my kidney or turn me into a newt or whatever minor trickster gods do these days to pass the time when they’re not torturing my best friend.

Anyway, gotta go, stay sane, don’t kill anyone unless you really have to, and if so lemme know and I’ll help you get rid of the body. I know a guy.

Courfeyrac

p.s. I already like you, idiot.

#this little wip exercise is bad for me it makes me want to keep working on all of these lmao #elle writes things #elle answers your questions #anon #courferre

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brian-mayonnaise · 5 years

Text

Sunday Morning Scrabble

Pairing: Brian May x reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, FLuFF

Word Count: 2358

Summary: Reader and Brian have been friends since childhood, gradually falling in love with each other without the other knowing. Reader accidently confesses her attraction to the curly-headed guitarist, only to find out the feeling’s mutal. This takes place in the late 70′s.

A/N: Whatt’s uuuuuuppppppp. This is the first fic I’m ever posting so feel free to leave any constructive criticism! Hoping to better myself as a writer:) Also, requests are open so do what you want in there. xoxox ~Leah

Brian and you sat outside at one of the glass tables in the courtyard. Coffees in hand, and scrabble pieces scattered about the surface. You had never been very good at scrabble. Even though you had what some would call a “strong vocabulary”, you could never seem to find any words that had more than three or four letters. Brian on the other hand made you feel absolutely dimwitted as he laid down his ‘Latin scientist astrophysicist’ words. The little wiseacre never gave you a chance.

You watched as he studied his letters carefully, arranging and rearranging them. A sigh of annoyance escaped from your mouth as Brian started picking up almost all of his letters, laying them across the board.

“Ablation” He said as he placed down the last tile. You looked at him, eyebrow cocked.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“What?” He snickered. That stupid grin on his face. “That’s not even a fucking word!” He was holding back his laughter now. “Yes it is!” You rolled your eyes, visibly annoyed. “Then what does it mean?”

“It’s the process where the atmosph-“ you cut him off “ah blah blah blah I don’t wanna hear it. It’s unfair.” You crossed your arms with a pout on your lips, trying to keep a straight face. Brian was visibly amused, a bright smile on his face flashing his perfect teeth. You suddenly felt the butterflies in your stomach.

You and Bri had been friends for ages. Growing up together, you started developing feelings for him around the time you both started uni. At first, it was the small things that you started to notice. The way his eyes lit up when he laughed, or the little faces he made out of concentration when he was focused on something, such as a history essay, or a new complicated guitar lick. The fall for him was gradual and slow, but you could pin point the exact moment in time when you finally fully tripped, face first, into loving him with all your heart.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

It was your first time ever seeing Smile play live. Brian had introduced you to Roger and Tim some time before, but with the weight of doing well in uni crushing down on you, you were never able to make time to go to one of their performances. By the grace of God, you somehow managed to get a break from your professors to be able to come out and support them.

You walked into the crowded pub, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes hitting you like a train. You were somewhat nervous. You had never been one for this kind of setting, much preferring quiet hangout spots where you can sip your tea and peacefully people watch while you obvserve the busy day to day lives of the Londoners. But this, this was the exact opposite. With seemingly no such thing as personal space, it felt as if everyone was in your business as you carefully nudged people out of the way in order to get to the bar. You had decided to order a cocktail of sorts, just to calm you nerves.

You stood by the bar as you watched the sweaty and drunken bodies move around the small venue. But sooner or later the lights started to dim, and everyone was cheering. You quickly set down your drink and made your way towards the front. Not right up near the stage, but close enough to see their faces.

The spotlights came on, shining the bright lights onto them as they entered. Rog came out first, shirtless and wearing some tight pants that left nothing to the imagination. As he slipped behind his drums, you could hear all the girls in the pub scream his name and whistle. You mentally scoffed and rolled your eyes, though some part of you found it amusing.

Next was Tim, only wearing a t-shirt and bell bottoms. His bass was already on a stand by the microphone, allowing him to smoothly pick it up and plug it in.

Finally, Brian’s lanky figure walked onto the stage, his Red Special in hand. Brian never let any of the groupies handle his baby, and you couldn’t blame him. He was wearing dark blue bell bottoms, complimented by his red Rolling Stones shirt. He looked so incredibly calm. If he was at all nervous, you wouldn’t be able to tell. It was like he was born for this type of lifestyle, like he was in his element up on that stage.

Brian struck the first chord, and the sound erupted throughout the pub. Your body felt weightless, you could feel every single sound wave move through your limbs.

Brian looked angelic. Yes, that word is overused, but there was no other adjective you could find to describe him in this moment.

When his first guitar solo came up, it sent shivers up and down your spine. You shook with them and closed your eyes while the twang of the bended high notes filled your ears. The feelings that coursed through your body made rubbing up against the sweaty college kids worth it.

When you opened your eyes again, you caught a glimpse of Brian sweeping his tongue out across his bottom lip. Your body tensed with desire. You didn’t want to feel this way for your bestfriend, what you had with Bri was amazing. A friendship that had built up over years and years. Everything in your mind was telling you to push these thoughts back, but the way your heart pumped faster and louder at the sight of him made you question your conscience.

From that moment on, you knew everything was going to be different...

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“(y/n)….heellloooo…..earth to (y/n)”

You zoned back into the moment with Brian snapping and waving his hands in front of your face. He was giving you a somewhat concerned but amused look.

“Sorry. Day dreaming I guess.” You smiled sheepishly.

He sat back in his chair a bit, picking up his mug. “Mm. What about?”

“The first time I saw you guys perform live..Y’know, before Fred came along and you guys took off.” You concentrated on the ground, focusing on your shoe.

You could tell he was staring at you through the corner of your eye, but you’d never say anything. “Why were you thinking about that love?” He took a long slurping sip of his coffee, which in turn made you roll your eyes. He knew you hated that.

“I don’t know really. It was the first ti-....” you stopped yourself suddenly, hoping he didn’t hear that last part. The last thing you needed was him questioning you.

“The first time what?” Shit. Too late.

You stammered out words, trying to get a coherent sentence out. “The first time I realized you guys were gonna be big” you smiled unconvincingly, praying you had saved yourself.

Brian knew you too well. Over the years, he’s picked up on your tells. Whenever you lied, you always scrunched up your nose, and you could never hold eye contact. He actually thought it was adorable. It was one of the little things that Brian had learned to fall for.

Now Brian had never expected to fall in love with you. It happened so suddenly for him, he didn’t even realize how he felt until your laugh started giving him butterflies. He remembers the night you had showed up at his doorstep, drunk out of your mind and shivering from the negative degree wind chill.

You and your ex-boyfriend had just broken up after you walked in on the wanker doing it in your bed with another girl. The anger he felt that night scared him. He was ready to end that scumbag’s life in seconds for the way that he hurt you.

Time seemed to slow down while you were crying into his shoulder. He wanted to tell you how he felt. To tell you that he could give you everything that tosser couldn’t. That he loved you so much he could barely stand seeing you in this state.

But you were wasted and sobbing. He concluded that it would be a shitty time for him to confess something like that, so he put it off...and put if off, until now he was unsure of how to say it.

He looked at you with skeptical eyes. “...You’re a terrible liar, you do know that right?”

Your jaw dropped, feeling slightly offended’ “Am not! What makes you say that?!” You smacked him on his shoulder, earning a childish “oowww” from Brian as he rubbed that spot.

He laughed outwardly. God he thought you were beautiful. He could find no faults. Your personality, your laugh, the bridge of your nose. Everything about you was simply gorgeous. He hated himself for how cheesy he sounded in his head, but he loved everything about you.

“I’m just saying, don’t try to lie to someone you grew up with. I know your tells, liar”

“Oh please, I do not have tells” You scoffed

He looked at you with one eyebrow raised, “mmmm I beg to differ love”

“mmhm okay then what are they?”

“Ha! Like I would ever tell you! Then you’d stop doing it and I wouldn’t be able to tell if you’re lying or not anymore.” He laughed at your scowl

You brushed him off “Oh whatever” he playfully nudged you with his shoulder.

This time it was your turn to get caught staring. Brian continued to act like he didn’t feel your gaze, though you weren’t being stealthy with it.

He turned and looked into your eyes, and you swore your heart dropped into your butt. You quickly found a spot on the table that you pretended to be interested in.

“(y/n)…..” Brian said in a sing-song manner. you continued to keep your pupils downward, afraid of the blush on your cheeks giving you away. “You still owe me the truth” he moved his face closer to yours, placing his hand under your chin to fix your attention towards him. Your noses were inches away by now. “What’s on your mind, love?” It was barely a whisper.

This was it. You had to tell him. You were in too deep.

You took a deep breath. At least, you tried. Kind of hard to breathe with Bri this close. “Th-the. The-uhm.” You paused for a moment, closing your eyes. You refused to look at him while you confessed this. “The first time I knew I was in love with you..” It came out in a shakey voice.

When you finally opened your eyes, he had moved even closer. Your noses were practically touching, you could feel his hot breath on your lips. You were scared you had freaked him out. You were second-guessing everything, worried you just ruined the decades of friendship. “Bri…” This time it was a whisper “Please say something.”

He looked down, and then back up at you. Smiling, his mouth finally opened to speak.

“What a coincidence.....because (y/n) (y/l/n), I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

With both of you letting out relived sighs, your lips finally crashed together. You wrapped your hands around the back of Brian’s neck, deepening the kiss. Quiet moans escaped from your mouth, leaving Bri hungrier. He’d do everything he could to keep those little noises coming.

If you guys didn’t need air, you swore you would’ve stayed there in that same spot, lips locked, for the rest of your lives. In the best way possible, sparks flew as both of your tongues explored the depths of each other’s mouths.

When you both finally, albeit reluctantly, separated to breathe, your lips were swollen red, and the tip of your nose had a pink tint to it.

You both were frozen there for bit in each other’s grasps. Foreheads together, and breathing in the other person’s breath.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner.” Brian mumbled with an airy laugh.

You smiled looking into his eyes, “Brian Harold May I’ve fallen so incredibly fucking hard for you, rockstar”

“Hmm, I do believe we should start playing scrabble a bit more often, huh love?”

You snickered and nodded at his proposal.

And with that, Brian brought your lips together again.

The End

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

6th Months Later

Roger looked at his best mate, feeling excited for him but also a bit defiant. “Are you sure you kids are ready for this? I mean, your relationship is practically brand new Bri.”

Brian just smiled at the blonde drummer, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”

Brian looked down through the glass, the shimmer almost blinding him. The employee made his way back over to the two boys. “Any thoughts sir?”

Brian pointed at the one he picked out through the glass. “I think this one will do quite nicely sir, thank you for your help.” The man smiled and got his keys to open the case before handing it to him. “Excellent choice, she’ll love it”

The guitarist checked out, paying in full. He and Rog made their way out of the shop. “Do you like it mate?” Brian asked, looking at the small black box out of curiosity. Roger looked at his friend. He noticed the glow of excitement radiating off of the man. “I think it’s perfect Bri.” he gave the bloke a firm pat on the back.

Brian smirked. “Hey, thanks again for coming with me to do this.”

“Of course! You think I’d let you go ring shopping alone?! Brian, You can barely pull up your own pants.”

“I beg your pardon! I was perfectly capable of doing this by myself, thank you very much!” Brian scoffed, giving Rog a look.

“Aha! Alright captain, whatever you say. I think your curls might be constricting the blood flow to your giant brain there” Rog clapped back with an immense amount of sass.

Brian’s face went pink with annoyance “Well you little-”

Brian didn’t get to finish his sentence as the blondie took off running towards the station, curly running after him..

The Actual End

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