#deanxthomas

Sing — I’ll write a drabble of my character singing to yours.

It was early. The kind of early that meant at any moment the sun could peak out from the horizon– though it very obviously hadn’t yet. Last night, Seamus had proved his age and gone to sleep at, well, a time so embarrassingly early that even the thought now made him feel like old fart. When he’d woken up, Seamus knew it would be useless to try and go back to sleep, so instead he’d tiptoed out of bed and to the kitchen. Now he buzzed around the kitchen: hot water in the kettle, pancake batter sizzling on the griddle, flour everywhere, and quiet music from the wireless. As this sort of thing began to happen more and more regularly, Seamus had grown quite familiar with the chart toppers and pop hits. Which was why as soon as he heard the next song come on, his eyes lit up as he brought the batter covered wooden spoon up to his lips. What would early morning singing be without a fake microphone afterall?

“You don’t understand, you don’t understand” His voice off key and louder than it should be at the crack of dawn. “What you do to me when you hold his hand.”

“Seamus?” He spun around, socks sliding across the tile floor as he turned to face Dean’s very tired ( and mildly annoyed ) stare. There were two options now: stop singing and insist he return to bed or… keep singing. Well, it wasn’t even a choice.

“We were meant to be but a twist of fate,” Seamus danced over to Dean, singing into the wooden spoon along to the fuzzy music of the wireless. He was grinning like an idiot, arms moving around in the stupidest moves he could think of in time with the music. “Made it so we had to walk away.”

“Oh god.”

“Cause we’re on fire, we are on fire. We’re on fire now!” He began softly, slowly turning the volume up as he sang and shook his head in Dean’s face. “Oh please, you love this!” He turned the spoon over to Dean, an expectantly look in his face. No luck.

Yeah we’re on fire, we are on fire.We’re on fire now

Undeterred, Seamus grabbed Dean’s hand with his free one, pulling him further into the kitchen. (1, 2, 3) Dropping the spoon on the counter, he grabbed the other man’s hand and began to dance once more in a flurry of movement and pitchy singing. “I don’t care what people say when we’re together! You know I want to be the one who holds you when you sleep.” Clumsily, Seamus pulled Dean closer, forehead knocking into chin. “I just want it to be you and I forever! I know you wanna leave–” Letting go of one hand, Seamus spun out, his elbow hitting the counter. He winced, but ignored it as he spun back in with such force that Dean had to wrap his arm around Seamus to keep them both from toppling over. “So come on baby be with me so happily!” 

@deanxthomas

After the duel with Anthony she had been feeling anxious and  as Professor Diggle dismissed the class, Sue ran away to the door. She kept walking rapidly, trying to get a place for her own. She didn’t want to go to the common room because people would try to ask her about what had happened and she couldn’t take that right now. People will think she did it all on purpose but she didn’t. She didn’t want to get him hurt like that. The teacher have told the class that it wasn’t her spell what made the explosion, it had been a back fired charm but still.

The girl sniffed and wiped away the tears that were streaming down her face. This was harder than she expected. She wished she had heard her father and stayed in Korea with him. But she was already here and there was no way she would change her decision now. 

A soft gasp escaped her lips and she covered her mouth, trying to suffocate the sound of it. No one could see her like this, no one should know how hurt she was. She knew this mess was all her fault but she couldn’t fix it anymore. The girl saw an apparently open room and before she opened the door, the girl took a deep breath and walk down calmly.

As she entered she saw a boy painting on a canvas and she stopped. “D-dean?” she said as she wiped a tear and tried to keep herself tied up with a smile. “What are you doing?” Sue had never been close to Dean Thomas but she knew they had a few classes together. She hoped her eyes weren’t too puffy or bloodshot but she stayed by the door, away from him, just in case.

I think you are:

I think you are:

Daily Task 038:  Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry, set Gryffindors apart.

“GRYFFINDOR” The sorting hat cried out and a wave of screams and hands rise up. Sue jumped and opened her eyes widely. What? Gryffindor? She hugged her book even tighter as the exhastic people grabbed her and hugged her with enthusiasm. This was too much for her. Sue wasn’t used to people hugging her or shaking her. She was quiet, shy and coy. How, from all possibilties she ended up in the lion’s cave?

She took a seat next to another first year and felt like she was going to faint. She looked up and saw her friend Isobel being called out for the Ravenclaw house. Sue let out a dissapointed sighed and looked to her side, when she met the boy’s curious eyes. 

“Oh, believe me. I’m as confused as you are.” the little boy with frizzy hair told her as he also had his eyes opened wide. Sue smiled and giggled a bit, this made the boy smile. “I’m Dean.”

“I’m Sue.”

mentions: @deanxthomas​, @ruslan-fletcher​, @seamusfiinnigan​

Dean was nice to her.

It wasn’t that people weren’t always nice---usually, if someone actually had to interact with her, they were civil enough. It was more that people didn’t talk to her much, or brushed her off politely because she stuttered when she got nervous or because, even though she was an eighth year, they didn’t know who she was. People she’d talked to in the past still looked at her like she was a ghost, like they should know her but couldn’t quite place her. It was okay. Megan was used to being unknown, ignored, brushed aside. No one did it out of malice, it was just the way things were.

But Dean was different. He was actively nice to her, kept speaking to her even when she stuttered, and it was so rare--especially for someone outside her house--that she felt she had to do something to show her appreciation. Wasn’t that what friends did, after all? Show each other their appreciation by doing something for the other person? She wasn’t sure. Her friends were few and she wasn’t really great at social conventions, but she was sure about this.

Being an only child without a mother, Megan had learned the art of cooking comfort food at a fairly young age. Whenever her father was upset or very tired from work, she made sure that there was something warm and comforting on the table for him to eat--and there was always dessert. Her particular specialty was triple chocolate fudge brownies, something that she’d had to put a limit on. Birthdays only, because otherwise her father’s pants started to get too tight around the waist. He’d eat the whole pan if she didn’t watch him.

So one Saturday morning, early, she went to the kitchens and baked up a batch of her specialty brownies. She boxed them up and wrote him a little note: Dean- Thank you for being a friend. -Megan. And then she marched up to the owlery and gave them to one of the owls, instructing that they were to be delivered at breakfast.

The two most humiliating moments of Laura’s life are related to singing that she tells me:

First, when Laura was five years old, she made one of her first appearance as a performer on the stage in her family’s shop. Everything would’ve gone well had it no been for the little girl’s impatience, who started singing way before her father started playing the instruments; it took Laura almost one minute to realise she wasn’t doing it properly and, by the time she did, everyone was watching. Laura cried a lot afterwards, meaning Isabella - her mother - had to take her back to her bedroom and comfort her for almost two hours until Laura finally slept. It took her almost five months to sing in public again, though the second time it went well - and almost all the times after that.