#But the moment you call my ADULT ASS muse a CHILD because you assumed due to titles? LOL Nahhhhh//

[hyaciiintho]

GETTING TO KNOW YOU.

respond to the following prompts out of character. then, tag others that you'd like to get to know a little bit better!

ROLEPLAYER NAME: Adriel

ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS: He/Them

MUSE NAME: I have too many to list off, everyone's on my Carrd c':

PREFERRED COMMUNICATION: Tumblr works just fine for me ♡ I tend to feel overwhelmed when I have a bajillion Discord notifications so I honestly fall off from it after a while before I gather the spoons enough to go back and respond to people proper. On tumblr, at least it feels like I'm sitting down at the office and getting ready to work on stuff, and therefore, the ton of messages just feels natural to have waiting for me here pfft~

EXPERIENCE: I've been writing on tumblr since 2014! Prior to that, I was roleplaying on Facebook since... 2011 ?? And prior to that, it was MSN, text message, and notebook roleplays between my friends and I throughout high school!

PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE: I enjoy the slice of life sorta roleplays. The things we don't usually get to see in a character's life because we're too busy following the main plot. Of course, I also do ADORE me a good mystery/deep plot to follow! Honestly, just give me a balance of interactions for our characters, and I'll be heaven ♡

PET PEEVES & DEALBREAKERS:

When people don't read my muse's info and push on to assume things via their own interpretations or strictly canon interpretations. I had someone praise how much they adored my Hero of Time characterization and wanted to write with me so badly-- really hyped me up, y'know? So I happily obliged because I also really liked their take on their character after I read up on their stuff, and I was incredibly flattered by how much they liked my muse! They immediately showed me how they read not a single thing about my muse through the first response c': I soft blocked real quick and moved on. Another one had even assumed my muse was a child because my blog's title was "Child of Farore", despite his bio clearly reading 20 years of age LOL

People who constantly post OOC about how "no one likes them" or "no one wants to write with them". Look... I get it... it can feel isolating sometimes... but perhaps the reason people are avoiding you is because you keep bringing the mood down? Listen, I'm not specifically talking about the feeling of feeling down and alone every now and then. I'm talking about the specific types of people who weaponize this feeling. Because they're the types that, even when you shower them with activity and interactions, they still will post these things the moment you start lagging behind on replies. Or! If you show interest in another blog and have a lull in activity with them. They'll immediately post about how people are abandoning them. It's so... no thank you. It's okay to post here and there about a lack of activity, but don't blame other people or demonizing them for it. Interactions go both ways, and honestly, if it's such a trend that people tend to avoid you? Maybe the problem... is you? Speaking of insane activity standards, that brings me to my last one:

People who hold your activity hostage as a measure of your worth as a roleplayer. Even if they don't actively say it, these are the people who immediately unfollow you the moment you're inactive for like... a week? A month at most, and they'll constantly message you with "I replied btw" or "Hey how have you been? Did you see my reply?" and my favorite "-insert link to their reply here- In case you didn't see it" and then nothing else. Not a "Hope you're doing okay!" or "Hope you're having a nice day!". It's a huge turn off and absolutely decimates my will to respond. We're here to have fun, not to feel like it's a 9-5 job. I just wanna be silly with my characters and shove them at others to see what'll happen, not feel anxious and scared over whether or not someone is happy with my response speed and activity.

PLOTS OR MEMES: I adore coming up with a general plot to work around! Memes are still fun and handy to have when you don't know what sort of plot would work, or when you don't have an idea at the moment. But still... ask any of my writing partners, the moment the question of plots come up, I am sometimes spitting out entire chronicles complete with plot twists, climax points, and bumps along the road. It's just super fun c':

LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES: This is very much dependent on my motivation and energy... sometimes I can hit you with 10+ paragraphs... and sometimes I can barely type 2 sentences :'D I would prefer to do long replies, but sometimes... sometimes... I just wanna throw a few words out and call it a job well done LOL

BEST TIME TO WRITE: The only time I really have to write, is late at night after work, and by then? My brain is so tired and I am so drained that I struggle to do much of anything that requires thinking. I think I used to be super active sometime around midday? Back in the day, at least. Now, I'm still searching for that peak hour when my brain wants to pour out words. Mornings seem appealing... I miss early mornings c':

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES: There are aspects of me in every single one of my muses, but we're not exactly a 1:1 to each other, y'know? There are things some muses do that make me want to punch a wall LOL and others that I would only dream to be capable of doing so easily. So... yes and no...? c':

Tagged by: @tenebriism (once upon a time ago-- THANK YOU) Tagging: Anyone who would like to do it, just say I tagged ya~

[jincherie]

intermission • iii | moonchild

• ☽ — pairing: bts x reader • ☽ — genre: crack, fluff, angst, college/uni au • ☽ — words: 4.6k • ☽ — rating: sfw • ☽ — warnings: rabid old ladies and tree-climbing shenanigans • ☽ — notes: another intermission! this is my last part for now, miss zee will be writing the next two and then we will see my return!!!! but until then, please indulge us n show miss zee some love!! she works hard for it :’< also because with zee’s next chapter... we see a bit of a twist arise!

— posted; 09.06.2019

When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

— • masterlist | prev | intermission iii | next • —

— some time in first year —

 The afternoon air is cool and the sun is a soft, comforting warmth against the exposed parts of Kim Namjoon’s skin, chasing away the slight bite of the cold that lingers in the breeze due the transitional season as he walks home. He’s just finished fulfilling his third ‘help wanted’ poster duty of the day, collecting the sheets, both handwritten and printed alike, from shopping mall billboards like Pokémon. He has a thick wad of them folded up and wedged in his back pocket (he’d forgotten his trusty messenger bag this morning that, despite being two snapped threads away from falling apart completely, has always managed to see him through the day) and a comparatively much smaller wad in his other back pocket, of the odd jobs his managed to complete through the week.

His rationale for being such an upstanding citizen and going out of his way to help anyone and everyone he can? Two things—experience, and references. He knows it’s a harsh world, and to succeed you have to prepare yourself as much as possible for everything to come. So when the time comes that he steps into the adult, working world after graduating… he doesn’t doubt he’s going to be one of the best prepared people they’ve ever seen.

Plus, sometimes the little old ladies and distraught pet owners he helped gave him a few dollars as a tip. Unnecessary and not something he asks for, but Namjoon isn’t one to turn away a gift when it could do wonders for his loose change jar. It satisfies him to see the little glass thing with a cork lid get fuller and fuller each weak. He blames the deep, primal part of his monkey brain that likes seeing a big collection of shiny objects like coins. It sparks joy, one could say.

The odd job he’s just completed was a little dryer than the rest, if he’s being honest. It was much simpler than the ad for it had made out— just helping some fellow uni student as clueless as him fix their broken toilet roll. All he had to do was find the screw that came out and the student gave him, like, a whole box of frozen chicken patties in return. Which… isn’t so bad but also, Namjoon considers himself an intellectual and while he may be bought by food he still longs for a mental challenge. So despite how usually he gets in about three a day, on a good day, but even thought this is his third one he’s still… hungry for more. He’s also hungry in the literal sense; the last job made him miss lunch and now his stomach is performing an acapella version of ‘feed me, feed me, you bastard’. A classic hit, one he is especially familiar with. He’ll have to rifle through the papers in his back pocket and suss out whether any of the posters seem the type to provide food for the help.

He’s still toying with the idea when he happens across an unexpected scenario that seems to have been dropped into his path by the fates themselves. Along one side of the footpath are suburban homes and their small front yards and cute little mailboxes, and to the other is the occasional tree and then the plain asphalt of the road. About a yard in front of him, just far enough that he can’t really see even with his glasses on, there seems to be a bit of a commotion occurring near one of the larger trees lining the street.

Excitement probably shouldn’t be his first reaction, but it is, and Namjoon hurries his long-legged gait so that he can reach the spectacle sooner. He doesn’t know what he looked like but walking like this, he feels a bit like those spiders with the tiny bodies and disproportionately long, spindly legs. And here he is, going to help out like the friendly neighbourhood spiderman. He slapped his thigh, eyes wide. He might be an iron man enthusiast at heart, but damn that’s a good line for his resume.

The closer Namjoon gets to the commotion he’d spotted from afar, the more he realises he might have hit jackpot. The source of the loud yelling and frantic movements seems to be a woman, a little on the elderly side, with her wild salt and pepper curls defying gravity in some places and clumping in others—it takes Namjoon a moment to realise that she’s actually attempted to tie her hair back and that’s why it looks a little bit deformed from the distance. As he draws closer, he notes that she looks a little unhinged. His reaction to such a thing should be caution, and he should feel wary, but all he can think is hell yes this woman clearly needs help and he is going to help her, damn it.

“Pudding, come down! Please! I’m sorry for calling you fat, Pudding! I didn’t mean it!”

As soon as he’s within earshot, he hears the woman sobbing hysterically as she claws at the thick trunk of the tree. She’s too small to reach the lowest hanging branch, and has taken to draping herself pitifully against the leaning trunk as she scrabbles against the bark with her nails. The woman wails, pitifully, voice piercing the air like a siren, or a banshee, “Pudding!”

Confused as he may be, he’s sure that as soon as he asks the lady what happened, he’ll be as clued in as possible. Namjoon clears his throat and composes himself, before stepping forward and speaking loud enough that the woman can hear him over her own loud weeping.

“Excuse me, ma’am, is everything alright? Do you require assistance of any kind?”

The lady spins around, a crazy glint in her eye, and belatedly, Namjoon begins to feel a little wary in addition to the wave of concern that seems to have caught up to him from where he left it in the dust.

“My pudding,” the woman wails, lurching and attaching herself to Namjoon like he is the tree she’d just been attempting to scale. Her nails dig into his arms, and the male is suddenly thankful for the long sleeves of his shirt and jacket protecting them from being punctured by her claws. “My pudding is stuck in the tree.”

A few beats of silence sound in Namjoon’s head, before finally a thought spawns into being. This woman…. Did she fling her dessert into the tree? God, it’s worse than he thought. He never expected to walk upon such a tragedy.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am,” Namjoon says, sincerely sympathetic. Being prone to trips and falls as he is, he has been victim many a times to accidentally flinging food all over the place. His heart goes out to her, his hands coming to pat her forearms with only a little hesitance (distantly, a part of him wonders if the crazed look in her eye is due to rabies, and the whiteness of what he assumes is snot all over her face and mouth makes him a little nervous). “Would you like help? I can get the pudding down from the tree, and then you can go on ea—”

“Oh, would you, dear?” the woman’s grip tightens like a vice as she cuts him off, wide, glassy eyes gleaming with hope. Is she starting to froth at the mouth a bit? Namjoon chooses to ignore that observation. “Please, please get him down. He’s the fat bastard on the second highest branch, and he -hic- must be so scared.”

Namjoon resists the instinct to make a face just barely— is she referring to her pudding as a he, and did she just call her pudding a fat bastard?— and instead follows the old woman’s shaking hand as it point to the top of the tree. Realisation slaps him in the face.

There, sitting right on the thickest part of the second highest branch near the trunk and somehow still managing to bow it, is both the fattest and the ugliest but most oddly endearing cat Namjoon has ever seen. At least, he thinks it’s a cat. It’s a cat until proven otherwise, he decides.

“Oh,” Namjoon says, staring at the cat. The cat stares back, and Namjoon gulps at the sudden goblin energy it seems to be radiating. “Pudding.”

The woman, still babbling incoherently while Namjoon creates a half-assed sort of mental plan for how to proceed and reach the top of the tree, starts shaking him slightly in her distress. Being a music major doesn’t prepare him for shit like this, he laments. This lady better have some food on the table for the trauma she’s currently inflicting.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get pudding.” He gingerly brushes her grip off him, surprised she let go with such little convincing, and makes his way to the trunk of the tree. The cat stares him down the entire time, lidded yellow eyes peering into the depths of his being and pulling out his innermost fears. Namjoon feels like this cat is the kind of thing you peer under your bed as a child and see balled up in the corner, hissing, with big fangs and ominous man-eating energy. This cat looks like the second Namjoon is within reach he’s going to claw his face off or eat his ears. A shiver rolls down his spine, but he pushes on. He’s going to climb this tree, make this cat his bitch, and bring it back down for the crazy old lady who has started breathing extra heavy the closer he gets to the tree. Distantly, one of his braincells knocks around and whispers that this feels like when Hansel and Gretel got tricked by a witch and her candy house— except in this situation the candy house is Namjoon’s incredible need for good references and experience. Annoyed at the errant brain cell, he flicks it away mentally and tries to think of a way up the tree when he reaches the base.

Well, he supposes he’s just gonna have to go up branch by branch and see which ones he can reach with his long noodle legs. He has to bring his foot up past his ear to clamber onto the first branch, and amongst the pain of essentially doing the splits he feels oddly proud of himself. Kim Namjoon; outstanding citizen, academic, genius music major, now gymnast. It has a nice ring to it. Perhaps he should consider broadening his horizons and extending his athleticism.

Scaling the tree is actually much easier than he anticipated. None of the branches are too far or too high to reach, and he’s satisfied with the effortlessness this job has taken so far. This will look fantastic on his record— he can’t forget to get a written statement from the rabies lady.

Before he knows it, he’s come face to face with the cat. Up close, it radiates even more demonic goblin energy, and Namjoon feels his knees quake slightly in response. It doesn’t meow, doesn’t even growl, merely bares its teeth in greeting, and the male gulps. Alright, time to make this cat his bitch for a moment and save that old lady’s day.

“Hey puss,” Namjoon greets, a little rusty on his cat conversation etiquette. “Come here puss, here, tch tch.”

The cat, fearing neither god nor man, merely sits and looks at Namjoon as he makes kissy noises in an attempt to lure it. ‘You think you can control me?’ It feels as though the cat says to him, with its apathetic, golden-eyed stare, ‘I belong to no one, fool. I will perish before I move at your will.’

Alright, seems like he’s just gonna have to scoop him up and go. Hopefully his nature is a docile as the name Pudding implies and his intimidating outside is just a farce.

Namjoon leans against the trunk of the tree as he reaches for the cat and takes it into his arms successfully— it’s too fat to put up much of a fight, and for that the male is thankful, even if it now feels like he’s holding a boulder in his arms and they’re going to fall off if he doesn’t deposit it soon. What does that lady feed this cat?! Cement?!

Having secured the old lady’s bag, Namjoon directs his gaze downwards and goes to embark on the next step in the plan to climb the tree for the cat and then climb down with the cat— as expected, it’s time for the latter. Wait, speaking of—

A ladder? God he wishes he had one of those right now, because he’s just realised that he has no idea how to get down. The cat’s belly gives an almighty rumble and, expectedly, it throws Namjoon a little off balance. The old lady is calling out hoarsely several many feet below them, and Namjoon feels a little overwhelmed as he considers possibilities and analyses paths down.

Gulping, he makes a calculated decision— unfortunately, he was never that great at maths.

x x

An afternoon stroll through the streets surrounding your dorm is just what you need, some fresh air to sooth your tired, university student soul and refresh your mind.

At least, that’s what you decided like ten minutes ago. Currently, you’re not sharing the same sentiments as past-you so much. This is mostly due to the abundance of unhinged elderly and zombified youth that seem to have had the same idea as you and that are now milling about unchecked. You accidentally stepped off the footpath before and stepped maybe ten centimetres onto someone’s lawn. That someone happened to be a short, stout middle-aged couple that had matching outdated hairdos, and they were not happy about you ‘messing up their lawn’. Before embarking on this walk, you could have proudly said you’d never been chased down the street by some screaming woman with a broom before. Now though, you’re no longer a virgin to that particular experience. You’re not going home as the same woman you were when you left.

The street that you’ve just turned onto, on your journey back to your dorms, is remarkably less chaotic than the rest and you feel yourself letting out a breath of relief. Finally, you thought you were going to combust from the stress alone. As relieved as you are though, you don’t let down your guard; you’ve been burnt before, thank you very much.

Not even three houses down the street, your reservations are proven right. There is an elderly woman, who appears afflicted with a sickness of some sort if the fluids all over her face are anything to go by, who is sobbing and moping at the base of a tree in what you hope is her front yard. Confronted with the strange situation, a part of you instinctively wants to help her— the other part tells you to turn tail and go down another street because this could be one of those traps where they trick you with a crying child or old lady and then mug you, taking all your money and any candy still surviving in your pockets.

Ultimately, the more empathetic side of you wins out and you hesitantly begin to walk closer to the woman clawing at the tree and screaming about desserts.

“Uh, excuse me ma’am, are you o—”

You don’t even get to finish before there is a sudden series of snaps and cracks from the tree above you and a mass comes hurtling down from the foliage. You scream, the sheer blood-curdling nature making your throat ache, and just about shit yourself as you launch away. Where you stood, a shape smacks into the ground with a hearty thunk that shakes the earth a little beneath your feet. You were right, you’re about to get mugged!

“AHH FUCK WHAT THE FUCK FUCK OFF I KNOW KATANA!”

The mass on the ground groans and you blink, watching with absolute dumbfoundedness as it shifts and suddenly the fattest cat you’ve ever seen is parting from it and running towards the woman in hysterics by the base of the tree. For such an absolute unit, it moves fast, and barely a moment passes before the massive load of a cat is wrapped firmly in the old lady’s arms.

“Pudding,” she weeps into his coat, the cat pinning you and the lump at your feet with an ominous, dead-eyed stare over her shoulder. “Oh my sweet, fat bastard— don’t you ever do that again, okay? Oh my sweet baby—”

She turns, mumbling into the fur of her cat as she begins to depart from the tree and make her way back to the house that you presume to be hers. For a moment you forget about the lump at your feet, until you hear it let out a pathetic whimper.

“My reference and commendation…”

You let out another scream, for some reason not at all expecting it to speak words. When you look down, however, you instantly feel guilty.

The thing that fell from the tree was a man and he landed right on his ass.

“Oh wait holy shit are you okay?!” Now that you’re over your fear of being mugged, you run over to the man and pop a concerned squat next to his curled up form. “What the hell were you doing up there? Did you steal that crazy lady’s cat?!”

The male at your feet groaned, bereft. “No, I was helping her get the cat down. Holy shit, my buns…”

You turn your gaze to his heinie, realising that with how hard he hit the ground he very likely has broken something. God, now that you think about it, he could have broken his tailbone. You have a friend that did that in highschool— it wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t pretty. And the thought that this poor man who fell from the tree and scared the absolute shit out of you might have done the same… oh, you felt for him. He attempted to roll and let out a pathetic groan. Oh yeah, he definitely broke it.

“Wait, don’t move! I think you broke your tailbone when you fell! Don’t move too much.” You hurry to halt him, and all he can muster in response is another sad groan.

“God, I- I can’t see…” he dropped his head against the earth, eyes shut. “The light… it’s growing closer.”

“H-hang on!” You panic, hands flying into the air. “We need to get you help! We need to get you to a hospital! Please don’t go into the light!”

The male groans again, and you flounder— you have to get him to the ER! It’s more serious than you thought. Panicked, you scramble for a way to get him up and mobile. Finally, an idea occurs to you, and you survey the man’s lanky form to try and assess how well it’s going to work out. A grimace finds its way to your face.

You’re going to be so sore later.

x     x

For forty minutes, you carried the long-limbed male on your back like nothing but a pack mule. Twenty minutes of that you spent walking, feeling like that Atlas bitch carrying the heaviest thing imaginable on your back and shoulders; and the other twenty was spent taking (read: waiting for) public transport. By the time you arrived to the hospital and got the man on your back checked in (you learned his name is actually Kim Namjoon and he’s a student, much like you), you felt as though at any second you were going to pass out. You still feel like that, actually, as you sit in the chair along the wall across from the male’s bed, which has the curtains drawn as the doctor inspects him, and attempt to recover. You’re sweaty, and gross, and desperately want a coffee. You even considered slipping some of the paper from the mysterious wad in his back pocket before you realised it isn’t money. You didn’t get to see what was on the papers, since you lost interest as soon as you realised it wasn’t cash.

You don’t get to lament too much about it before the curtains are being hauled back, a brightly smiling man greeting you; the doctor appears just as exuberant and overjoyed as when he first walked in.

“Well, good news and bad news!” he chirps, tucking his clipboard under his arm. His nametag reads Dr. Lee Minhyuk, and you can’t help but think that your new friend Sera would probably be frothing at the mouth at the mere sight of him. You catch sight of Namjoon adjusting himself on the bed behind the doctor, cheeks red.

You send the doctor a probing look, knowing he is waiting for a response. He beams, delighted at your acknowledgement.

“Good news first!” the Dr. Lee clicks his heels together before shifting his stance, gesturing his arm widely to Namjoon. “His tailbone is not broken! Thanks to the uneven distribution of his ass cheeks— ahem, sorry, his buttocks— all of the force of impact was absorbed by the, uh, dominant butt cheek, if you will. His tailbone is fine!”

Namjoon chokes behind him at the words that come out, and a part of you is mortified for him but the rest of you finds that too funny to even begin unpacking everything else yet. One of his ass cheeks really pulled a hard carry and did the lord’s work and absorbed all the impact. The power… A sigh of relief escapes you at the doctor’s words, though, and you go to speak up your relief when the doctor cuts you off.

“Whoops, actually I take that back! That’s the bad news— his tailbone isn’t broken, but it is bruised.” Dr Lee clicks his tongue, taking out his clipboard to scribble something short down. He then turns to Namjoon. “I kind of have to go— since you came in through the ER but this isn’t an actual emergency— but I’ll send a nurse in with directions for you on how to manage this, and after that you’ll be free to go. I recommend not climbing any more trees for a while! Also I hope you don’t sleep on your back, that might be a bit difficult like this.”

With that, he clicks his heels once more before saluting you both, and then he’s striding out of the room, off to tend to actual emergencies, you presume. You’d gotten an earful earlier for bringing him to the ER when it wasn’t a life-or-death emergency, but you stand by your decision.

There are a few long moments of silence in the time after the doctor leaves, and you decide to break it by standing and moving to the table beside his bed, where you’d left your phone like a fool. Avoiding his face (he’s still blushing so it’s a courtesy, but also because while sitting and waiting for the doctor you’d realised he really is quite good looking and your mind is having trouble associating that with the man who fell out of the tree earlier), you reach for the phone amongst the water cups and chocolate wrappers, from when he’d emptied his front pockets. He’s a nervous drinker and a hoarder, it seems.

“Wait,” His hand shoots out, long fingers wrapping around your wrist before you can grab your phone. Your heart jumps, perhaps in fright. You look to him with wide eyes. “I’m gonna need you to sign a non-disclosure about what you just heard.”

“I…” you give him a pained look. “Please, tell me you carry them with you at all times. Please. If you don’t tell me, I really might die.”

Namjoon lets out a great, big sigh, releasing your wrist somewhat petulantly. “I don’t… please hold your tongue until I can print some more.”

More? You’re having a field day with the implication that he has had instances where he’s needed to hand out non-disclosure agreements before, but he seems a little sombre. So instead of mocking him, as per your first instinct, you decide to try and make conversation. You know the nurse is coming soon, but you would feel bad leaving him alone until then. You feel like, having carried him on your back for miles and miles, almost an hour, you’ve really gotten closer and crossed the bridge from strangers to acquaintances.

“So…” you begin, tapping your fingers against your thighs. You search for another nearby chair before grabbing it and pulling it over, flopping down. “What do you study? Where?”

You feel like a new language learner asking questions using only the limited vocab you have, but Namjoon is unphased and answers as though you’d asked him something much more natural.

“CCU,” he says, fingers picking at the threads on his blanket, before he looks up to glance at you. “I’m a music major.”

Surprise filters through you at that, a noise of wonderment escaping before you can really stop it. “Oh! Hey, me too! I think you’re in one of the years above me, though, because I haven’t seen you in any of my classes before.”

Namjoon, who had been somewhat withdrawn and had put up a wall of sorts between you since entering the hospital and regaining control of himself (and a donut cushion to sit on), seems to do an absolute one-eighty at your words. “Oh, your major is music as well? Where are you specialising?”

You tell him with an eager smile, and he responds with one of his own. Just like that, the two of you fall into a conversation that comes much easier than anticipated, talking about your majors and music inside and outside of school. The nurse takes forever and you spend a good amount of time there, just talking to this upperclassmen who happened to fall out of a tree while you were walking past. Eventually, he confides in you about a rough draft of his, something he has really high hopes for. It’s a song called Moonchild, and it’s barely half done but he drums and beat boxes the rough rhythm out for you and you feel your cheeks heat in awe as you listen. That’s amazing, you can’t help but think, and it’s all him. You don’t think you’ve ever liked the demo of a song as much as you like that one.

The afternoon passes with the nurse eventually visiting, and all too soon you’re waiting with the long-legged noodle man at the drop-off and pick-up zone, watching with a note of sadness as a car pulls up and some mint-haired twink that looks vaguely familiar sticks his head out and calls for Namjoon. Namjoon thanks you for your help and bids you farewell, and then he’s climbing into the car with an abrupt wail of pain— he forgot to put his donut down first— before the doors shut and the car is pulling away, disappearing into the dusk and leaving you by your lonesome. You stand a few minutes, before letting out a huff and turning to leave yourself.

The whole way home, and throughout the rest of the week, you can’t help but think about the beautiful tune of moonchild and how it rings serenely through your mind when your thoughts quieten just enough. You hope you get to hear it again, someday; you hope you get to hear it when it’s finally completed and Namjoon’s name is on the credits.

— • masterlist | prev | intermission iii | next • —

{let us know what u think!! who are u rooting for?? who do u think is the muse?? hit us up!! & thank u for reading, btw!}

[homeawayfromhogwarts394-blog]

On the twenty-second day of Christmas, fanfiction gave to me... Thewaterfalcon! Find her stories on fanficiton.net, check her out on tumblr @thewaterfalcon, and read her interview below!

Getting to Know You

HAFH: Tell us how you fell in love with Harry Potter    

TWF: I’ve been a fan right from the start, I was introduced to Philosopher’s Stone when I was about 8 (1998), I was always a bit reader, especially as a child, but from that moment not many books have ever come close.

HAFH: Who is your favorite Character? Which is your favorite book? Why?      

TWF: Ron, he gets such a hard time in ff but he’s my favourite. I think he’s the one I always connected to the most, he felt the most real to me, I like that he made the mistakes that he did, and that he didn’t particularly have a lot of love for his classes, but I think mostly, I just relate to how he frequently didn’t feel good enough. And then, of course, he still helped save the world! My favourite book is a toss up between PoA, and OotP, they’re the ones that I’ve gone back and read the most times. PoA because I love how we were introduced to the Marauders, and how you can re-read and see that there is so much more depth to the story than you first thought (Remus seeing Harry, the spitting image of his old best friend on the train, for example). OotP because it made me laugh the most, some of my favourite chapters in the entire series are the ones in Grimmauld Place, I love that even despite the frightening state of affairs (Voldemort having just returned, etc), there was this sort of community/family feel during those parts.

HAFH: What is your favorite book (outside of HP)?    

TWF: The Lord of the Rings series, I’ve read them close to the amount of times I’ve read HP. I absolutely adore the world Tolkien gave us, the scope of the history, characters, and story are just incredible in my eyes.

HAFH: What are your favorite holiday traditions?      

TWF: Crafts, baking, decorating, etc are all staples. We go to Christmas Markets when we can, oh, and our tree topper is a penguin called Chris, who sits on top of a bookcase all year until Christmas!

HAFH: Do you like the holidays?      

TWF: Yes! I’m such a typical mum at Christmas, it’s all about the kids, and I love it all!

HAFH: Share one of your strengths and one of your weaknesses. Doesn’t have to be writing related!      

TWF: My ability to overcome is the strength I pride myself on the most. One weakness is that I can be incredibly oversensitive.

HAFH: What other hobbies do you have?      

TWF: I’m a watercolour painter, and fan artist, and I spend copious amounts of my time perfecting my bullet journal.

HAFH: Do you write anything outside of Harry Potter fanfiction?    

TWF: Yes, one day I would like to release an original work, I write bits and pieces of non-ff, but I haven’t got enough of an idea in mind yet.

HAFH: What are you doing when you're not obsessing about Harry Potter or fanfiction?    

TWF: Adulting, or bullet journalling.

General Fanfiction

HAFH: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.    

TWF: I’ll take angst over fluff any day, I prefer rarer pairings, and a little bit of some smutty goodness wouldn’t go amiss.

HAFH: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?    

TWF: Oh my gosh, this is a really hard question! Can I alter it a teeny bit? I’d finish avis1756’s Unintentional Magic.

HAFH: If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose? Any actors you would hope play your characters?      

TWF: The History of Magic, because I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch Hogwarts come to life for the first time. My fancasts for Rowena and Salazar are Katie McGrath (she plays Morgan le Fay in ‘Merlin’), and Michael Fassbender.

HAFH: If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?      

TWF: If I *had* to choose, I think I’d pick Ronsy.

HAFH: Do you have a muse? What is it?! If not, where do you get your ideas?    

TWF: Primarily music; a lot of my stories are inspired by songs.

HAFH: Do you read fanfiction? Do you read similar or different things than you write?      

TWF: I don’t read it as much as I would like, but I try to write different things, that I haven’t seen before..

HAFH: Share three of your favorite fic writers and what you like about them.    

TWF: Clementine Mack; because I adore how she takes lesser known characters and gives them so much life, particularly her Millicent Bulstrode, she does for Millicent what I try to do for Pansy, she gives her this normality, and likeability, but with an unapologetic realness.      

dulce.de.leche.go ; because I find myself so drawn into the words she writes, there’s such a depth and beauty to her words that I just lap her stories up.        

@shayalonnie, because in my eyes she’s the best at what we do! Her stories aren’t simply stories, they’re epics.

HAFH: Share three of your favorite fanfictions and what you like about them.     

TWF: Savage Heart - Clementine Mack, because somehow, despite werewolf fics being fairly popular, she has managed to weave such an originality in the story and characters that it doesn’t even feel like a fanfiction now.        

The Debt of Time - ShayaLonnie, for the same reasons that everyone adores DoT! It made me feel everything, fall in love with the Marauders and feel even more connected to the canon story.       

His Little Bird - thewanderer’swanderingdaughter, this one is rough, there’s no getting around that, it’s one of the darkest I’ve read, but I was beyond pulled into it, the writing is incredible and, even though I found it hard to read due to its content, I really, really liked how the author dealt with various issues.

HAFH: Does what you read affect what or how you write? If yes, how so?      

TWF: I would say so, yes. I guess in a similar vein to how a musician often finds it difficult to just listen to music without scrutinising it, I do the same when I’m reading now, I’m constantly analysing how sentences flow, or whether the writer has done something grammatically different than I would have. If I really love a particular sentence, or passage, I often save it in my phone.

HAFH: How long have you been reading and writing fanfiction?      

TWF: I’ve read ff on and off for quite a few years, I’ve only been writing since May, so I’m a relative baby compared to lots of other authors!

Published Works

HAFH: Have you ever deleted one of your published fics? Why?      

TWF: I have not.

HAFH: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

TWF: This is from Darkened Skies, one of the things I really wanted to address in this story is how Neville went from the accident prone target of bullies, to absolute bad ass. In canon we don’t really see this fully, because obviously the trio aren’t at Hogwarts during 7th year, and so it was fun to really dig deep with Neville in this way, also, DS has the slowest burn and this is right before Neville and Pansy finally kiss, so it was just great to get to this moment:

‘She smiled up at him. His face, which she had began to see as rather physically appealing from the minute he entered the carriage on the train, now had a whole new effect on her. She still marvelled at how good looking he had become, of course, but now there was more; he had a perfected rigidity to his jaw, and a deep sorrow in his eyes that she was certain, or perhaps she merely hoped that, nobody else could see. There was real pain and sadness in Neville Longbottom and knowing, and seeing, that, broke Pansy’s heart almost every day. And yet, despite the hurt, she knew there was also hope, and light. She saw it mostly in Herbology, an ambition in his eyes when Professor Sprout engaged him, or when Professor Flitwick commended his impressive spellwork. His Gryffindor fire was sometimes so close to the surface, she half expected his eyes to burn a deep red.

Their peers no longer regarded him in the way they once did, with mockery and pity. His abilities as a wizard had increased tenfold and his blatant defiance in the face of the Carrows’ proved he was no longer one to be trifled with. In fact, Pansy highly doubted whether Neville Longbottom would ever give anyone reason to truly make fun of him again.

Pansy smiled at his words, but said nothing. Instead,she let her head fall to the side, feeling comfortable enough, yet still nervous at first, to rest her head on his shoulder. She felt him altogether stiffen at her advance and then, all of a sudden, his whole body relaxed entirely, and she felt his head flop to the side, to rest against hers. His hand then reached for hers, and he grasped it in his own as their fingers interlaced.’

HAFH: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

TWF: This is from The History of Magic, I tried hard to really capture the Founder’s personalities, and I wanted to inject a bit of humour into the scene, and I hope I did a good job:

“And what if, at eleven years old they do not quite show the bravery of an ox-”

“I prefer lion, the lion is an animal of absolute grandeur.”

Helga narrowed her eyes at Godric. “Fine, the courage of a lion.”

“Much better!” Godric responded, this time earning him a most uncharacteristic, actual glare from Helga.

“Hush, Godric! Or, the intellect of a...a…”

“I’ve always admired the eagle, most intelligent creature,” Rowena interjected.

“...an eagle, then. Or the resourcefulness, and cunning, of...” this time Helga did not attempt to think of the relevant creature herself, instead simply gazing at Salazar, who replied without hesitation.

“A snake.”

“Of course,” Helga snapped, her arms now flailing in annoyance, much to the amusement of the other three. “a snake, so what happens? What if these children are not particularly brave, intelligent, or cunning? When their greatest attributes are kindness, or dedication, or patience, what then?”

“Well, one would assume, they would be in your House,” Godric answered the question Rowena was sure Helga had actually not wished for an answer to.

“Yes, yes they will! I shall take all the rest. And shame on all of you for not having the same attitude!” The small woman ended haughtily into a pregnant silence.

“Well, that is very kind of you, Helga,” Rowena said after a while, unable to bear the awkward quiet that had befallen the four friends. “What creature do you feel you would like to represent the House of Hufflepuff?”

Helga was taking deep breaths, and the reddening of her cheeks told Rowena that Helga was probably feeling a sense of embarrassment over her outburst.

“A badger.”

HAFH: Which fic has been the hardest to write?

TWF: More than Life, it came from this tiny idea, and I started it with virtually nothing, it’s one I should have planned out properly, first. It’s an entirely canon-compliant Hinny, and has none of my usual elements involved. It is however, my most popular!

HAFH: Which fic has been the easiest to write?

TWF: Need You Now; my filthy Ronsy smut-fest . I wrote that bad boy basically in one go, it came to me super easily.

HAFH: What is your favorite story you have every written?

TWF: Darkened Skies, it’s my baby. It started me on the journey of a writer and gave me this incredible outlet. I owe DS a lot.

Writing Process

HAFH: What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

TWF: Write to express, not to impress.

HAFH: What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

TWF: Work on only one thing at a time. Now, please don’t think I mean that this is bad advice overall, as I’m sure for many others it isn’t, but for me, and the way my inspiration comes to me, I tend to work on one fic for a while, and then not touch it for a while, whilst I concentrate on another, this helps me immensely as I know how easily I lose heart in a project, this way keeps all my work fresh.

HAFH: Describe your perfect writing conditions.

TWF: A pristine desk, a view that involved water in some capacity, and tea on demand! (typical Brit here!)

HAFH: Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

TWF: I outline my big fics, yes. Nothing too fancy, but I like to have a timeline, and bullet point what plot points are going to happen roughly in each part of the story.

HAFH: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

TWF: If a later scene comes to me, I will write it, but mostly start to finish.

HAFH: Describe the process a chapter goes through before being posted.*

TWF: I sometimes jot down some bullet points of what I’m including. I’ll try to finish writing a chapter in a few days. I then add it to the file in my drive, and let my beta know it’s there. Once it’s beta’d, I will publish.

HAFH: How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

TWF: I have two plunnies hopping about, one is a Ronsy heavily inspired by Outlander, it’s a Voldemort wins!AU, the other is a prompt I actually entered in the Q&P mistletoe comp, claimed it myself and then decided to delete it because I want to write it later, and longer, and do it justice. It’s a George/Daphne set after the war and deals with George losing Fred, which will be coupled with what has happened to Daphne (but I’m not going to give that away yet!), and how these two unlikely souls find each other, and something to cling to.

HAFH: Would you ever kill off a canon character?

TWF: I try not to, but, I mean, sometimes it calls for it, I killed Harry, Molly, and Arthur in The Whole World without batting an eyelid. On the whole though, I tend not to.

HAFH: Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

TWF: I usually write things that *could be* feasible in canon.

HAFH: Is there a character, book, scene, etc from canon (above all others) that inspires you?*

TWF: It’s actually a film scene, where they’re preparing for the final battle, oh it just gives me all the tingles! It’s one of the things I really feel they got right in the films.

HAFH: Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to? Or one you never would want to write?

TWF: Time turner, I’ve never really had much of a plunny for one though, but I do like them! I’ll probably send Pansy back in time at some point. I don’t think I’d ever write a marriage law.

HAFH: Is writing your passion or a fun hobby?

TWF: I’ve only been writing for seven months, so I’d say fun hobby that is becoming my passion.

Revision

HAFH: If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

TWF: I don’t really have any older fics, but I guess once I’m at that point it will be Darkened Skies, because I want it to be perfect.

HAFH: How do you feel about collaborations?

TWF: I’d never collaborate, I know i’d end up falling out with my partner. I think they’re often great in theory, but I know a few people who have had bad experiences with them.

HAFH: What do you look for in a beta?

TWF: Someone I feel comfortable with, and someone who will be my cheerleader, not all the time, but I need it, every now and again.

HAFH: Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

TWF: I do, currently for two writers, and I’ll look over my friends’ work if they ask.

Works in Progress

HAFH: Talk about your current wips.

TWF: Darkened Skies is a Pansy/Neville story that takes place during 7th year when the trio are away. ‘He was her one and only chance to feel sane, she was his nights spent chasing a hurricane.’ Fire & Ice...and Everything Nice takes place after the war, and involves Pansy and Daphne taking a trip to Romania (no prizes for guessing who one of their love interests is!), it is primarily light hearted and fun, but deals with PTSD, anxiety, depression and panic attacks as a big underlying theme. “The aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts has left Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass alone; torn apart from their once-friends and shunned by the whole of Wizarding Britain. As Pansy is plagued by the worst of memories and left broken, Daphne realises that something needs to change and sets herself a mission, which, once in motion, might just alter both girls' lives forever.”

The Edge of Tonight is a Scorpius/Rose story where I make a pretty dramatic U-turn from how the next-gen are usually portrayed, it’s influenced a lot by how reckless I was as a teenager. “Baby, you are my horizon... Being sixteen is hard; between the endless expectations from being the daughter of not one, but two, war heroes, mediocre school grades and struggling to find her sense of self-worth, Rose Weasley must lean on the three people she trusts above everything, now more than ever. A coming of age story about friendship, love, late nights & poor judgement.”

HAFH: Do you accept prompts?

TWF: I’m not sure, nobody has ever given me a prompt!

HAFH: Which is your favorite site to post fic?

TWF: FFN, but I am slowly posting all my work to A03 also.

HAFH: How do you feel about smut?

I love it, to a point, I don’t overly like PWP, it has to feel natural to me, and be believable in my eyes, for me to enjoy it.

HAFH: How do you deal with trigger warnings in your work?*

TWF: I put them in A/N when they’re required, in fact I’m planning something pretty rough for DS, and I’m going to write a fairly hefty A/N which stipulates that if anyone feels they don’t want to read the chapter in question, then they can message me and I can give them the gist without details, so they can still follow the story, but hopefully avoid being triggered.

Feedback

HAFH: What kind of feedback do you prefer?

TWF: Positive, haha! I’m not going to lie, I don’t like criticism, but I do my best to take it on the chin when I do get it.

HAFH: Is there anything that you particularly like or don’t like to see in a review?

TWF: Well, I once got told my main pairing ‘would work better as Draco.Hermione’, that didn’t go down very well. I really like it when someone quotes one of my lines, or states that they think I’ve wrote something well.

HAFH: Talk about a review that made your day.

TWF: I honestly love getting pretty much any reviews! There were a couple that touched upon how I was handling Pansy’s PTSD in Fire & Ice, and it was really nice to read that they felt I was doing such a difficult and personal issue justice.

HAFH: Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

TWF: I’ve had a few, most I ignore and/or vent to friends about, I have given a couple of snarky replies though!

Thanks again to Thewaterfalcon for taking the time to answer all of our questions! We’ve so enjoyed getting to know you a little better! Be sure to check out her fics and find her on tumblr!