#but its still very odd. first day of school and i'm done before lunch

[elprupneerg]

its not even 11:30 on the first day of school and i'm done for the day. is this why morning people are like that?

[notablytrustableindividual]

Band Rants #2 - Far Caspian

Sorry for the delay for the 0.63 people who care, the last week has been not great, and I've been barely holding on. As I write this, it is 2:53 am on a Saturday, and I'm drinking tap water out of a Nicholas Cage mug in the dark.

Anyways, back to music.

There were several bands in somewhat similar styles I almost wrote about instead. Slaughter Beach, Dog and their transformation from Midwest Emo to Indie Rock to Folk (The reverse Wilco, as I like to call it) or Peach Pit, who did something similar with an odd yet fun discography. In a more pop vein, I also considered Rotel Otis, who I started listening to when they were on the Fresh Finds playlist, and whose ability to pump out fun single after fun single confuses me to this day.

But instead I settled on Far Caspian, a band that is a bit harder to pin down. So what is Far Caspian, and why should you care about them?

First, Far Caspian is an Indie Rock/Pop Project led by Irish multi instrumentalist Joel Johnston, who has released 3 Eps, and a full length Album. Their first Ep, Between Days, cane out in 2018. The Heights followed in 2019, and their first full length Album, Ways To Get Out, dropped in 2021.

I am not mincing words when I say Far Caspian is some of the most relaxing, aesthetically pleasing music I've ever heard. Listening Between Days feels like lying on top of a ridge and staring out, relaxed. It's music that makes everything feel fine, even when it's not.

Of course, I will admit some bias in this. Far Caspian has been comfort music for me for years now. I used to sit in the library of my school during lunch, surrounded by ornate carved bookshelves and wearing a beat to shit pair of headphones, rushing through my 5th period AP Euro homework as Far Caspian played, keeping me from panicking even more. The example of me laying on a ridgeline isn't just metaphor either. I've done it before (I highly recommend it, it's very relaxing)

While the 2018 EP is mostly acoustic, 2019's The Heights branches out a bit. Some synth and piano show up, adding some variety to the instrumentals. Each song on The Heights also feels just that little bit more unique. Of course, I'm biased in this matter. The slightly faster guitar and simple drum line if Conversations lives rent free in my head.

(I can effortlessly sing along to it by the way, it's my second most played song of all time)

Yes, I'm aware this is a bit cursed.

Either way, the Heights contains some of the best sounding guitar lines I've ever heard. It's just unfathomably relaxing to me. Of course, the lyrics and drums are also pretty good. When talking lyrics, I would be stupid to not mention A Dream Of You. (You should listen)(please?)

This song is Far Caspian's most popular, and it earns it. The lyrics live rent free in my head, expressing longing for someone else's presence beautifully. The slow, calm guitars and passive drumline even have a little beat drop in the instrumental breakdown towards the end. It is probably one of my favorite beat drops ever. Even with its slow pace, the song has this way of sucking you in. I enjoy it quite a lot. The melody holds a special place in my heart.

In 2021, Far Caspian released their first full length Album, and it was quite a pivot. It's atmospheric and plodding. The music is still gorgeously composed, but there's a very prevalent sadness throughout. If you've listened to the previous songs I'd recommended listening to and enjoyed them, I can't guarantee you'll enjoy the album as well.

Of course, the album has its high points. For me, the most standout tracks were right at the start and end. House is by far one of the most complex songs Far Caspian has ever made. It starts out with a simpke guitar riff, and builds, until its soothing saxophone, combined with its other myriad instruments make the songs climax just transcendent for me.

Of course, they have one more Ep which came out a few days before I wrote all this. Its similar to the 2021 release in a lot of ways. That being said, the closer on the 4 song ep, Arbitrary Task, just sucks me into a trance. It's noisy, strumming guitars, combined with an omnipresent drum line, whittles at the senses a bit, until the comparative quiet of the bridge snaps you back to reality.

Of course, like every band, they also have a large catalouge of singles.

I'd recommend the alternate version of Conversations (Shocking, I know) and Holding On, which is thier first ever song.

Overall, Far Caspian is a band that can be both gentle, and calming, as well as rough andmelancholic. Whatever sound they have though, they are always heartfelt. They remind me of Turnover and Real Estate in a lot of ways. To quote someone else's review of Real Estate, "This is a band fotlr those who can chill to the max"

Between Days (2018) - 8.4/10

The Heights (2019) - 9.3/10

Ways to Get Out (2021) - 6.5/10

Pet Architect (2023) - 5.5/10

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they take a joke/prank too far (Iwaizumi,Daichi)

Word count: 1.9K

Genre:angst,fluff

AN: In the spirit of April Fools I tried to make my first work based on that I hope you enjoy!! (LOL I can’t actually believe this was the first thing I’ve ever written)

Iwaizumi:

“Okay so it’s April Fools Day who are we going to prank?” asked Makki “One of the first years?”

“Do we have to prank someone this year..” replied Iwaizumi “so childish”

“Iwa-Chan!” Oikawa said “Don’t be such a spoil sport.”

“Anyways, it can’t be a first year they’re boring to prank a first year coach will be mad at us, we need someone else.”

Just then, you enter the gym, catching their eye as you approach the group sitting on Iwaizumi’s lap “Hey babe, I can still come over to yours to study right?” you ask.

“Yeah of course, practice finishes early so I'll be there before you.” He said

“Alright, see you then bye babe, bye guys” you said, giving Iwaizumi a kiss on the cheek sauntering off and waving at Makki, Mattsun and Oikawa.

“bye Y/N!” They teasingly responded in unison making you laugh.

As they watched you leave, it seemed as if a lightbulb pinged off in all of their heads (besides Iwaizumi) realizing who would be a great person to prank.  

After a lot of convincing, they finally got Iwaizumi in on the ‘harmless’ plan, all they needed to do now is wait on your arrival.

You’re finally done with school after a long and tiring day of exams upon exams and wanting nothing more than to cuddle with your boyfriend (after he teaches you Pythagoras theorem of course.) You did think he was acting weird when you met him this morning in the gym and throughout break and lunch but you just concluded that it was because he was having an ‘off’ day.

You reached his house and used a copy of his key that he gave you to enter we just enter houses up in this bitch  calling out his name “Zumi-babe, I'm here...”  

“Lets get this shit over with” you said tiredly

Upon entering, you notice none of the lights being on or curtains drawn ‘odd’ you think. You go upstairs going straight to his room hopefully to find your boyfriend in his bed or on his Xbox or something. To your surprise his bedroom door was somehow locked shut (even though not having a lock on his door anyways.) Suddenly, you hear creaks slowly trailing up the stairs and an eerie feeling surrounds you... now you start to feel pretty panicked jiggling the door handle to Iwaizumi’s door as it’s practically the only place you can go.

AN: I hate what I’m writing rn but onwards we right

The footsteps on the stairs start to quicken, and you almost certain that you felt something brush pass your shoulder only adding onto the panic and anxiety that you already feel. Ok, the footsteps on the stairs are basically right near you, so doing the only logical thing you can do you body slam the ‘person’ on the stairs as you motherfuckin should  as tears fill your eyes and you pick up bag bolting through the front door, slamming it shut now in full tears and shakingly scared.

You look behind you and see Iwaizumi’s front door re-open and out comes the ‘iNFaMouS sEiJOh fOuR’ in tears... of laughter. It seems that the boys were in laughing fits that their prank ‘payed off’ getting a reaction out of you. You couldn’t see Iwaizumi’s reaction, but you didn’t care you were hurt, annoyed and wanting to get into your bed.

Once you get home, you decide to block your so called ‘friends’ who decided to make you scared shitless and ignored Iwaizumi’s messages asking “where were you today”.... the AUDACITY.  

The next day, the boy’s seemed to realize the consequences of their actions after spending the whole day trying to get your attention only to be straight up ignored. Iwaizumi is immensely regretful after all his efforts to try talking to you were denied, he decided after his practice he was going to get you to talk to him or at least get you to listen to his apologies on what happened yesterday evening.

You left your clubroom and made your way to the school gate to go home.

“Y/N!” shouted Iwaizumi touching your shoulder making you flinch ‘wow did we really scare her that bad?”  

“What do you want iwa?” You asked very agitated

“Y/N I just want to apologize for yesterday, since it was April fools day and all the boys really wanted to prank someone and I-it just happened to be-”

“It just happened to be me. Right?” you interrupted “Gosh Iwaizumi, I was really scared.. I already had a tiring day and all I wanted was my boyfriend to teach me the stupid Pythagoras Theorem and cuddle me afterwards, but no you and your friends just had to be dicks for a day” you turn around planning to walk away before he grabs you again  

“Wait! Just wait y/n, im sorry and I wont ever prank you like that again” he pleaded

“.. and i’ll help you study?” he added pulling the sweetest face of all time to try and convince you  

“ugh, fine stop pulling that face... and you better teach me Pythagoras Theorem” you said rolling your eyes

“yeah yeah whatever you say y/n” he said pulling you under his arm and walking in the direction of his house.

A/N: WOW I DID NOT like the way this turned out but its my first official thing that I wrote hopefully HOPEFULLY MY WORK IMPROVES (I THINK IT WILL) SO please join me on this ‘ride’ in improving my work  

Daichi:

You decided this morning that you were NOT going to participate in your annual April Day Fool’s prank with Tanaka and Noya... only because of your not-so new boyfriend Daichi saying he didn’t need his teammates corrupting you any longer so you decided to not get involved. With that being said you wouldn’t even think of your boyfriend pulling a prank on you so you didn’t think you’re getting pranked today.

In the gym, the boys were doing the usual: Hinata and Kageyama running after eachother, Tanaka and Noya oogling Kiyoko, Tsukishima listening to music, Yama and Yachi going over club schedules whilst Daichi sat with Sugawara and Asahi.

“So are you pranking anyone today?” sugawara asked

“Pranking someone, isn’t that a bit too juvenile suga?” Asahi replied

“Not you silly, Daichi” said sugawara “With Y/N on his arm they always have to stay on eachothers toes right..she’s a ‘jokester’ right?”

“...right?” Daichi hadn’t thought of it that way, he did know of all your joking escapades before you even got together and how you still liked to joke around now as you date.. He didn’t want you to think that you thought he was too boring for you ?

“Ok. What type of prank should I pull on her..”

Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi (who didn’t really contribute to Suga’s scheming) made a plan for you to meet him at the gym locker with the claims that he had a ‘surprise’ for you .. oh how he was wrong.

Daichi: meet me at the gym locker I have something to show you  

Y/N: Ok!! I’ll be there in 5 minutes

Daichi was nervous, and that was an understatement he didn’t want things to go left and have you thinking he couldn’t even do a simple prank. Once you got there, he saw heard you talking to Sugawara and Asahi outside the door about him wondering where he was in which Suga told you inside the locker room.

“Hey babe” you greeted “what's the occasion in why we’re in here?”

“I...uh..um I need to get something one second” Daichi spoke quickly and rushed out the room closing the door leaving you confused. Minutes passed, and you were now impatient and kinda scared since the room was dusty, dark and cold definitely not your place to be in. You tried texting Daichi but just your luck you have no service ://  

As time went on you tried opening the door but it was jammed shut no hope opening at all you forgot you left your bag outside which of course had your inhaler which did not help the sudden shortness of breath you started to get because of your asthma and claustrophobia. All you wanted was to get out of this room and talk to … Daichi.

Daichi. How convenient that he manage to slip away before the door got closed hmm but he wouldn’t intentionally prank you after ALL the lectures he gave you about not doing pranks this year right?

You didn’t notice how you started to cry and whimper wanting to leave.

On the outside, Daichi heard your cries and ordered Sugawara and Asahi to find the key to immediately get you out which it seems to take a while because Daichi has now stopped hearing your tears making him gulp in fear thinking something bad has happened to you in there.

Sugawara comes to you handing Daichi the keys, his handing shaking as he tries to unlock the door when he eventually does he finds you passed out on the ground of the dusty storage room. Very cliché I know ://

You wake up in the Nurses Office a bit confused on how you got there until your eyes land upon Daichi, remembering how you locked you in the Storage room where you had an asthma attack and passed out. You turned your body away from Daichi not wanting to talk to him right now after the hypocrisy he did.

“Y/N.. Are you alright?” He asked

“Do I look alright?” You responded in a bored tone

“I am really sorry Y/N... I know what I said to you about not doing pranks this year but Sugawara roped me into this and I didn’t want you to think I was too boring for you so I thought doing this prank would make you see me in a different light” he said

“yeah i saw you in a different light alright” you sassed, you then realised what he said ‘too boring’ kind of feeling less mad and more sad that he feels this way “Dai, you’d never be to boring for me … you’re one of the most funness is that a word? guys I've ever met.”

“really?” he asked  

“Of course! I’m kind of still mad at you for letting this happen but I do sort of understand why” you said giving him a hug.

You were eventually cleared to go home and as you left the clinic you saw Asahi and Sugawara standing at the door.  

“Y/N WE’RE SORRY” they bowed to you waiting on your responses

You chuckled slightly at their cuteness and ruffled both of their hair “all is forgiven, just make sure there’s ‘pranks’ this year “

Which they agreed upon.  

A/N: WOW I DID NOT like the way these turned out but its my first official thing that I wrote hopefully HOPEFULLY MY WORK IMPROVES (I THINK IT WILL) SO please join me on this ‘ride’ in improving my work. Feedback is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED and request too since I will literally write whatever...

I may do a part 2 … any particular characters people want?

[lovinkiri]

If The Roles Were Reversed || One

UA!Dabi x Reader

UA!Shigaraki x Reader

UA!Toga x Reader

UA!Twice x Reader

UA!Compress x Reader

Author's Thoughts: Okay so I was just thinking, what if the LOV were seniors in UA, and emotionally stable enough to not be villains, and ekvekbd

Warning: Swearing, Scratching, etc.

EVERYONE IS 18+

Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

People couldn't help but stare at the two of you. You knew it was because of your boyfriend though, who was used to the stares by now.

"What happened to him?"

"They really let guys like that in the hero course? Look at the scarred face."

"The whole course looks like a group of villians, I'm not surprised."

You went to speak out. I mean, it wasn't his fault his quirk was self destructive. Though he was taking courses in Quirk Control, the scars he'd gotten before enrolling in UA stuck.

But before you could utter a word, Dabi sighed and wrapped an arm around you, giving the gossips a look that could scare a pro.

"Don't worry about it, babe. It's alright. I just wish they'd say it to my ugly scarred face." He spoke loudly and sarcastically, raising his voice even more towards the end.

You huff and glare at the already scared freshmen. "I just wish they'd take a look in the mirror themselves."

And now they were scared and offended.

You look back to Dabi and sigh. "You know you're sexy, right Touya?" You raise an eyebrow, Dabi snickering at how serious the question was asked.

"Can't look that bad if I've got such a cute little thing on my arm." He smirked, watching as you immediately got flustered.

"Y-Yeah, c'mon." You pull him to class, Dabi chuckling.

Upon entering the classroom, he immediately looked to Shigaraki. "Hey, Crusty."

Shigaraki glared at the Dabi. "Morning, Crispy."

With Shigaraki, you let it slide. You knew this was their way of being friendly to each other. Then Toga came bounding over, hugging you from behind.

"Hi, Touya! Morning, Y/n!" She grinned. Dabi scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's Dabi."

"You let Y/n call you Touya!"

"Are you Y/n?"

"No.."

"Okay then, Crazy."

"Crazy?!"

You laugh and smile. It was never boring, being with Dabi.

Tomura Shigaraki

"Tomura!"

He sighed and looked at you, drowning out the rest of the hero course. You walked over with your lunch and plopped down next to him, slapping his hand away from his neck. "You're scratching again. I know it's a bad habit but-"

Tomura rose an eyebrow, wondering what caused your silence. Then he followed your gaze to his hands.

Before he could speak, you broke out into a grin. "You got your new gloves! Now we can hold hands!"

Sighing once more, he shrugged. "I don't get why its such a big deal. You were more excited than I was."

He was lying. He was secretly just as excited. The thought of holding your hands, running his fingers through your hair, holding you without having to be careful of his fingers. He couldn't wait.

You kissed his cheek and laid your head against his shoulder. "Can we hold hands later?" You asked looking up at him with irresistible eyes.

"You don't have to ask, you know." He grumbled as he wrapped an arm around you. The rest of the hero course let out either genuine or sarcastic awww's.

"Its not fair. How did Shigaraki start dating before any of us?" Toga asked with a pout. Dabi snorted in laughter. "They like 'em crusty and flaky."

Tomura glared at him. "Better crusty than charred and burnt." He retaliated.

Dabi gave a lazy grin. "Oi, I'm not burnt. I'm crispy."

The entire table, not including Tomura, devolved into laughter. Tomura rolled his eyes, laying his cheek against the top of your head. "Idiots. They're all idiots."

You smiled. "Please. You love 'em."

"Tch. Whatever." He huffed.

Himiko Toga

You waited by the school gates patiently for Himiko. You knew she was probably getting some new upgrades to her hero costume, so you didn't mind.

"Y/n, Y/n!"

You turned and Himiko jumped into your arms. Thankfully, you were able to wrap your arms around her and steady yourself. This wasn't the first time so you had practice.

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Hey, your reflexes are getting better!" She pointed out.

You smiled and chuckled in at the remark. "Thank to you. You seem more excited than usual."

"Oh yeah! I got this awesome new upgrade." She said proudly. Pulling away from the embrace and instead holding your hand, she started to pull you along.

"Yeah? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head. Himiko proceeded to go into a detailed ramble about her upgrade, her free hand making exaggerated motions.

You couldn't help but admire how her eyes seemed got so much brighter. It was obvious she was excited to test it out.

Others who weren't used to seeing you guys around stared, but minded their business as you glared at them. You weren't gonna let anyone bring her down. Knowing people already whispered about how odd she seemed in the school hallways, you'd decided she didn't need to hear that outside of school too.

"And so it'll be easier to shift between forms!" She finished, looking at you, looking for your approval.

Kissing her cheek, you chuckled. "That sounds amazing. And it was your idea?" You grinned as she enthusiastically nodded. "Yeah! Of course, you inspired me! Remember last week when you said it'd been cool if I could switch between forms more freely?"

Your expression morphed into confusion. "Huh? That was a month ago."

She shrugged. "A week, a month, a year! It's all the same!"

Laughing softly, you nodded. "Sure, Himiko."

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

Jin smiled as you pulled his mask on, trying to nuzzle into your hands.

"Jin- I can't get it on when you do that." You chuckled, a smile tugging at your own lips. "I don't see why you couldn't put your own mask you."

"Because I like it when you're near me! Stop asking questions." He responded, pulling you closer by your lower back.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you quickly pecked his lips before fully getting the mask on. "You a sweetheart, you know that?"

He nodded. "I know!" Then quickly shook his head. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Right. Well, be careful at training today. I think they're gonna make you fight Dabi." You warned. You knew Jin was strong but Dabi was something else. Losing usually made him fight harder. And sometimes, he lost himself.

"Oh please, that's nothing. Nothing but a death wish! He's still pissed at me for spilling juice on him at lunch today!" Your boyfriend began pacing, holding his head dramatically.

His head whipped to you as you started laughing. "Why are you laughing? Last time we sparred, I had to sleep with an ice pack on my ass! For a week! And he was sleepy!" He pressed, mocking betrayal once your laughter continued.

"I-I'm sorry, Jin! I'm just remembering that pillow you had yo sit on in class. You know, as to know irritate the burns on your butt." You covered your mouth to stifle anymore sounds of amusement.

Jin whined at the memory, placing his hand on his ass. "It's not funny, babe!"

You grinned and cleared your throat, taking a breathe. "Alright, alright. But you were just distracted that day. And the voices are a lot easier to ignore when your mask comes off in combat now, aren't they?"

Walking over, you gently placed your hand on his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch, almost cat like. "It's so much easier to focus now. But it can be kinda difficult with you lookin so damn good while watching me!"

Jin leaned down, attempting to kiss you from under his a mask. You laughed and tried pulling away, hands on his chest. "J-Jin!"

"Oi, are you done yet? It's our turn Jin!"

Gulping nervously, Jin lifted his mask a bit to give you an actual kiss. You returned it, humming softly then pulled away. He shrugged. "In case I die."

Then there was an burst of heat. "Get over here, Jin!"

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

Atsuhiro smirked at the villian before him, twirling his cane ever so casually. "Tsk, tsk. You've got a flashy quirk, but there's no flare."

What was supposed to be a training retreat turned into a surprise attack. These villians never knew when to give up.

He quickly dodged another attack and gave a mocking hum, as if he were thinking. "Oh I know!" He hit his fist against his palm. "You're missing the element of surprise! You're completely predictable!"

Laughing as the villian the got angry, he shrugged. "Unlike me!" He dodged once more before shooting out a marble that you'd been compressed in for a while.

Once free, you launched an attack to the villiain. "Surprise!" You grinned as you foot connected into the villian's back, the impact sending him tumbling into a tree.

Atsuhiro caught you in his arms and you spread yours out. "I see, you haven't met my lovely assistant, have you?" Sitting youdown, the two of you prepared for another attack.

"Delaware Smash!" The villain cried out, running to the both of you, dodging Atsuhiro's efforts at compressing him.

You managed to dodge, but Atsuhiro wasn't so lucky, taking blow after blow before colliding into a tree.

"Hiro!" You yelled out, running towards him. It was when you held a hand out that you halted. "Now, now, Dear, worry not. It is not who's in trouble."

The villain's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That's when you noticed a marble rolling from compresses hand. It would seem the villain noticed to but it was too late.

Before anyone could react, Spinner was there dishing out attacks. Atsuhiro stood, leaning against the tree. Running over, you helped him to balance himself.

"You had Spinner this whole time?" You asked in surprise, eyes wide. He chuckled softly and gave a small bow. "As I said, the element of surprise is very important."

"Boss! The heroes are here!"

The villain glared at us, dodging Spinner and jumping from place to place. "This isn't over." He mumbled before bounding off.

Spinner went to go after him, but Atsuhiro had his cane in front of him in a second. "Let them be."

Spinner opened his mouth to protest but sighed and nodded.

You guys soon grouped up with the rest of the class, only to see Toga on the verge of tears.

"Himiko, what's wrong?" Spinner asked, you guys rushing over. Holding back a sob, she looked up.

"They kidnapped Shigaraki!"

[kerie-prince]

We’re Worlds Apart (1)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj/Muggle fem!reader

Post-Battle of Hogwarts

warnings: language

series m.list | general m.list

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif cred)

"They want... me?"

Draco Malfoy sat across his supervisor in his office at St. Mungos. His eyes widened at the offer he was given.

"Well Mr. Malfoy, you've certainly shown us around here that you do well at your job. If I must say so myself, I believe you're ready for the job," his boss has explained. Draco had recently finished his Fellowship and became a remarkable Healer. So much so that the Santa Marie Hospital for Maj Persons in Buffalo, New York contacted his supervisor to offer him a position as Head Healer. It was an incredible opportunity, one that a person could only dream of.

Draco sat still in his chair, shocked that of all Healers from his department, Santa Marie wanted him. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco was determined to change the views people had of him. He was no longer the prejudice prat that he was at school. Draco Lucius Malfoy is now a matured, capable young man. He worked hard and was proud that he did everything on his own. No help from daddy dearest, no pressure of the Malfoy name. It was all him.

"I would love to take this job. When would I start?"

Draco finished filing his paperwork at the Ministry of Magic that was to be sent to the Magical Congress of the United States containing his work permit and all the necessary identification. Walking around London, he grew excited about it. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since he got his letter for Hogwarts.

The next thing he has left to do was to find housing. There was an office located in Diagon Alley that specialized in international real estate. Draco walked into the brightly lit office. Much to his surprise, Daphne Greengrass stood at the reception desk.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Malfoy," she said with a smile on her lips. He was quite relieved to see a familiar face. "Good to see you too, Daph. I'm checking in to see Ms. Moreau. I'm moving to America soon." Daphne was both shocked and impressed that Draco would be making such a big move. They chatted momentarily about the reason for him moving and she congratulated him. Soon enough, the real estate agent walked out and called Draco into her office.

She sat at her desk and gestured for him to take the seat opposite her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Moreau," Draco had slightly bowed his head.

"Please, call me Gwen," she smiled as she reached to shake his hand, "I see from your paperwork that you're moving to America, correct?" he nodded his head in response. "Fantastic! Now, looking at the locations for Buffalo, we have quite a bit of selections from houses to flats. Of course, in America they're called 'apartments'. With your budget, you would be able to get this nice house that is just a 10 minute drive to the Apparition office to Santa Marie's." She showed Draco pictures of the house. It was quaint. An all white, one story house that had three bedrooms, a lifted porch, small kitchen, two bathrooms, trimmed green grass in front and a dark stained wooden fence that went around the house. Draco nearly fell in love with it. Its contrast to the Malfoy Manor was warm and inviting.

Gwen had shown him pictures of the other places she had gathered for him, but none of them peeked his interest as the first house did. It was quite silly as he thought about it. Most likely, he would be working long hours at the hospital to even be able to appreciate the home. It made more sense to get an apartment as he would most likely just use the space to sleep and eat. But the house was begging for him to live there. After about an hour long session, Draco made his final decision on the small house.

"Excellent choice, I had hoped you'd love it. Now, before I contact the sellers about your offer, I must let you know this before you sign anything," Draco shifted in his seat. Of course there had to be a catch. A house this perfect needed one thing to go wrong. Was it busted windows? A terrible neighborhood? Shitty pipelines? He nodded for her to continue.

"This is an integrated neighborhood. Both muggles and wizards live around and you might not know which are which for a while." Muggles. He sat in silence, staring down at the photos of the house. Did he really want a muggle neighbor? No, you're past this Draco thought. The old Draco wouldn't even give the place a second thought. But he wasn't him anymore. "I don't care. I'll take it."

—

You woke up in the morning, stretching your arms and legs out of the thick blanket. It was currently 8:47 am, your alarm clock beside you still had 13 minutes to alert you to wake up. Deciding to just get a head start on the day, you walked into the your bathroom and started your shower. The water was at the hottest you took and you went about your daily routine. You said your repeated incantations in the shower as you lathered yourself with soap:

Water, water, wash away. Water, water, cleanse today.

Walking out your shower, you grabbed your towel and recited the next spell as you dried yourself:

By the earth in the soap,

by the air in the steam,

by the fire that heats the water,

by the water that cleanses,

I am cleansed, clean, and ready for the day.

When you were 12 years old, you used to watch your grandmother perform Wicca in her bedroom. Your mother didn't particularly join in on the belief, but also didn't oppose to you starting alongside your grandmother when you turned 18. Now, you were almost 26 and still kept on the same practices.

On the contrary to people's interpretation or views of witchcraft, you called yourself a White Witch; someone who performs good magick upon selfless reasons. You never hexed anyone nor wished any ill fate. The Laws of Nature was surely watching at all times and if you did, expect to get the same fate but in threefold. Not that you even had any reason to do such things, anyways.

After getting ready, you grabbed your bag, keys — which held a protection charm — and went on your way to work. Your cat sat in her tower located in your living room and she watched you walk out. Getting into your car, you noticed movement next door. A big, moving truck was parked and a crew of movers carried furniture into the house. Finally, someone new you thought.

Feeling nosy, you sat patiently to figure out who it was moving next door. Was it a family? An elderly couple? Maybe newlyweds. Right when you were about to pull out of your driveway, a handsome blond stepped out of the house guiding the movers where things were going to be placed. You couldn't hear his voice, but could tell from the distance that it had to be attractive.

He looked around the street and caught you starting from your car. You hesitantly raised your hand to wave at him but was cut off by a man walking up to him with a clipboard gesturing where to sign. You looked at the time on your watch and nearly panicked at how the time passed, leaving you with only 15 minutes to get to work. Hauling ass, your car let a screech out as your foot punched the gas pedal. You'll be able to introduce yourself later, Y/N.

—

A few days passed and Draco was headed for the Apparition office to his new workplace. He had leased a new car to drive there. According to the Magical Congress, wizards and witches that lived in integrated neighborhoods must check in at Apparition offices to not raise suspicions from No-Maj. Seemed quite silly at first, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. He remembers the first time he went to Diagon Alley with his father through the Leaky Cauldron, finding it hidden with a wall that required taps against it. Behind it, a magical alley hidden from muggles.

He pulled into the office building lot with ease. It was clean on the outside and had a sign on top that only read MCA Co,. At the front door, there was a pin pad with numbers on it that kept it locked. Draco pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number. The door made a clicking noise which signaled that it was unlocked.

In the front was a young man sat at a reception desk typing away onto a computer. It was a strange sight for Draco as he's never seen one before. He walked up to the desk and waited for the person to acknowledge him.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to the Magical Congress' Apparition Office. May I see your ID pass, please?"!the accent was unfamiliar to Draco, but he nonetheless reached for the pass clipped to his trousers and gave it to the receptionist. He scanned the pass, handed it back to Draco and raised up from his chair to guide Draco to the door which had a direct line to the hospital. "Have a good day, sir!" were his last words before he went back to his desk.

Draco looked at the address once more before appariting into Santa Marie's. Here goes nothing.

—

It was a long day at the office. Setting up appointments with new clients, greeting all the new people he'd be working with, and a surprise welcome party to end it. Everyone he met had different variations of American accents. Some from Chicago, some from California, and some from the native state of New York.

A man by the name of Ian Parker helped Draco navigate around the building. Draco was quite relieved to hear that Ian had lived close by, just two blocks and a turn away. They had lunch together and talked about just simple things about each other. It felt nice to meet somebody and they not know who you are and things you've done in the past.

Once he got home, the first thing Draco did was start to run the shower, gathering his sleepwear as the water heated up. Not meaning to, Draco noticed how his bedroom window had perfect view of yours. To him, it was extremely odd.

You had faux vines that curled around your four-poster bed, a couple of plants that hung against the wall and posters of movies that Draco knows for a fact he's never seen in his life. You walked into your room and went up to a small drawer and dug through it. After a few seconds, you grabbed out some incense sticks, lit them and stood them on the stand that laid on your dresser. Afterwards, you sat on the floor with your legs crossed and started taking deep breaths.

Draco caught himself staring for too long and was about to head into the shower until he saw movement from the corner of his eye. There you sat, but this time, you held items in your hands. One held what Draco thought to be just some colorful rocks. The other hand held a bundle of herbs on fire at the tips. Your lips moved and it had Draco curious. Your hand with the herbs moved in a specific pattern, creating smoke around you. Once you finished, you set the rocks and herbs down at a table and left the room. That was odd. Draco thought. He passed it off and went on about his night.

—

"It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. And trust me when I say that Hogwarts has its fair shares of odd moments," Draco sat in the break room with Ian and two other people, Ashley and Blaine. They laughed at the description Draco had of you and settled after Ian began his explanation.

"It seems that your No-Maj neighbor is considered a Wiccan." What in Merlin's name is that?

"Pardon? What's do you mean?"

"It's what they call witchcraft," Ashley added, "it became a popular thing after the Salem Witch Trials. Of course, there's no real magic to it like what we can do, but they nonetheless believe it works."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Muggles are trying to be witches? This was probably the last thing he ever thought he would hear. Inside, a familiar feeling had ignited. A feeling he had, or he supposed still had, for a certain species. He didn't like it but to find out that what he is had become a fantasy to be was upsetting. He was born into this life, not them. Not you.

—

It had been a really nice day at work. People had been kind and you sold out of a new oil you made. As you entered your home, your cat ran up to your legs and purred against you. You smile down at her and made your way to prepare your dinners.

She nibbled away at her bowl and you watched in content.

Outside, you heard a car pulling in. It's probably him. You peaked out the window in the living room and your guess was correct. He stepped out of a black car and walked to his door. You tried catching his attention by waving your arms about, hoping he glanced your way. When he did, you waved excitedly to him.

He stared at you with a straight face, no hint of any feeling. It was odd, people usually like you and wave back but this guy was just looking at you. Not doing anything. You looked around to see if there was something behind you, only to look back and see that he was gone. Ooo...kay?

You grabbed your sweater and decided to introduce yourself to your new neighbor. It had been almost a week and it seemed that he still hadn't acquainted himself to anyone on the street. The cool, spring breeze sent a pleasant chill down your spine as you walked on the sidewalk.

Once you stepped in front his door, you knocked three times. No answer. Three more times. No answer. The lights that were on had turned off and curtains had been shut in almost a blink of an eye. He had made it clear that he was not in a mood to talk to anyone. It slightly hurt your feelings, but you told yourself to not dwell on it. He's just tired from work. Just then, an idea popped in your mind as you headed back home.

—

"Stupid fucking muggle clock," Draco cursed as he was running around his bedroom getting dressed. He overslept by an hour and had 10 minutes to be in the Apparition office to go to work. Damn American laws.

He grabbed an apple, not his usual sour green one but a sweet red one this time, grabbed his bag and ran for the front door. Something taped to the door caught his attention and he halted his movements. It seemed to have been a note someone left. He unfolded the paper and read it to himself;

Hello! My name's Y/N and I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I hope we can become good friends~ if there's anything you need or if you'd ever like to get acquainted over coffee, please feel free to knock on my door! It'd be nice to get to know you :)

At the bottom of the note was a small drawing of a witches pointed hat and Draco immediately knew who left the note. Almost on instinct, the note caught on fire in his hands and the ashes fell to the ground. He dusted his hand off and went to work. As if we would ever become friends.

—

next chp

taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter

[seungminotes]

A Walk Home 

best friends to lovers w/ Kim Seungmin

a/n: I'm back from my hiatus and happy to say that I really like this piece tho it got kinda dramatic lmao hope you like it too! Always feel free to leave feedback!

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: cursing (like twice?) / gender neutral (please tell me if I messed up with something) / sort of slow-burn and not much payoff but I'd like to think it's very fluffy throughout!

"What took you so long today? I've been waiting here for at least 5 minutes," Seungmin complained at the sight of you finally approaching him. 

It usually didn't take you this long to reach him from your last class, heck sometimes he even had to drink water and you'd get to your usual meeting spot before him. 

Seungmin wasn't particularly the best at waiting on others, for whatever the reason really, he would have probably left anybody else behind by now. But alas, it was you he had been waiting for, and if facing the possibility of having to wait even longer for you, he most likely would. 

"Sorry, I had to talk to someone before leaving," you smiled at your friend, who was now pouting slightly.

You reached up to pinch his cheeks only for him to slap your hands away. 

"No pinching, let's go," he grabbed your wrist, dragging you in the direction of your usual route home. 

You'd known Seungmin for nearly six years now. Having met him when you both were in middle school after moving to the then new town, Seungmin had once been quite fickle towards you, but once he got over his initial disinterest, he realized you were quite special. You'd spotted him taking pictures of the daisies in his front lawn and annoyed him to no end to explain his interest in them. You remember the day vividly, especially now that the firm grip Seungmin held on your wrist highly resembled the same he held on that very first day you met him. 

-

"Aren't daisies a bit plain?" You snuck up behind the boy crouching in an awkward position, clutching his camera so tight his fingers were losing color. 

Seungmin held no reaction to the sudden appearance of someone around his own age spying on him from the sidewalk in front of his own home. In fact, he sighed with a tinge of annoyance at your unwithheld statement and hardly looked up at you, why couldn’t people mind their own business, he thought to himself. 

"I find them quite interesting, actually." He deadpanned, no intention of expanding upon his opinion to someone who he already deemed to be unworthy of his time.

Damn Seungmin was quite stubborn back then, he had barely even glanced at you, but good thing you were quite nosy. 

"How come?" You inquired further. 

Thirteen-year-old Seungmin was not in the mood to explain the complexities of a perfectly amazing daisy to someone who would most likely not care as much as he did about capturing their beauty. 

Nonetheless, he glanced back to where he had seen you standing to notice your figure now hunched over, examining a daisy closely, nose almost touching it's petals, as your lips parted slightly to blow softly onto the flower, clearly in your own little world.

Your rather odd gestures told him you may actually be interested in what could possibly be interesting about the small flowers sparse all over his lawn. 

He slowly approached you, more aware of your presence than before, and snapped God knows how many photos of your posing.

That was at least until he saw your hand reach up to pick the delicate flower from its stem. That’s where he drew the line! Promptly walking over to you and tightly withholding your hand with his awkward grip on your wrist. 

You’d taken the opportunity to look into his big, brown eyes and examine his now blushed face, ultimately deciding this boy was inexplicably ethereal. You could drown in the deepness of his irises and the urge to pinch his pouty cheeks was overpowering your own sense of respectfulness to this stranger. 

-

You remember how he later apologized and  quietly explained to you the meaning of daisies. After bringing out two peanut butter jelly sandwiches from the kitchen onto his porch, where the both of you shared the lunch, he began to ramble on to you about the perfections of a simple flower that was not so simple at all and it's symbolism of true love. 

And from that very moment on, you knew you had fallen in love with Kim Seungmin, the nerd next door who explained the very composition of flowers to you over a sandwich at age 13. 

And unbeknownst to you, Kim Seungmin had developed a disgustingly soft spot in his heart for his absent-minded  new friend next door. 

-

Nothing much had changed now. You were still hopelessly in love with Seungmin, who was as focused as ever on his studies and baseball team activities just six years later. 

-

The memory and realization fade just as soon as it came to you with Seungmin's grip on your wrist, which now that you look back down was still quite firm about a minute into your usual walk home. 

Though you could almost guarantee it wasn't anything intentionally done by Seungmin, it didn't fail to put a stupid smile on your face. 

So far Seungmin had noticed your rather quiet disposition, something he deemed off about you.

"Are you okay?" He asked. 

"Perfectly fine," you grinned, narrowing your eyes into happy crescents as you lifted the arm that currently clinged Seungmin's own hand, much to his embarrassment. 

He'd quickly released your arm at your teasing, opting to scratch the back of his head as he scoffed. 

"Who'd you stay to talk with today?" He asked. You'd assumed he was simply trying to change the subject from his embarrassment, but in fact, the thought of who you could have possibly spent just five minutes with after school had been eating him alive for the past minute. You had never made him wait, at least not without some sort of warning.

"Just a guy in my chem class, I met him by my locker on the way out," you responded, not giving your answer much thought. 

"What did he want?" He asked again. 

Seungmin sure had been asking an awful lot today. 

"Don't be so nosy, Seungmin! It really doesn’t suit you. It doesn't really matter much anyway. And how do you know I wasn't the one who wanted something from him, huh?" You teased him slightly, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Can't I ask about the whereabouts of my best friend when they leave me out in the hot, melting sun waiting for them!" He teased back, stopping in his tracks to begin to poke your sides harshly.

"Fine, fine, fine!" You give in. "Just stopppppp," you shook his hands away.

"Hyunjin offered to tutor me in chem. I'm officially failing," you laugh off, "he wanted to ask what days we should schedule our study sessions for." You explained.

"Wait, Hyunjin? As in Hwang Hyunjin? The pretty one?" Seungmin's eyes widen at the thought of a rather good looking and outgoing guy offering you tutoring lessons out of the goodness of his heart, he almost scoffs out loud. 

"Stop asking so many questions, Min!" You softly punch his arm, bursting his thought bubble. 

"Besides, 'the pretty one', Min? I didn't know you liked Hyunjin like that? Want me to put in a good word for you?" You teased further, laughing at his choice of words. Sure, Hyunjin was pretty well known by most for his good looks, but he had simply offered you help in your studies in a subject he happened to excel in and that had no such thing to do with his looks. 

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes, taking his turn to lightly punch you back from before. 

Afterwards the walk fell to a comfortable silence between the two of  you. 

At least that was how you would describe it to be. While you happily hummed and thought of what snacks you could whip up once you got home, Seungmin seriously pondered why you hadn't told him you weren't doing so well in chemistry. Or why you hadn't come to him for help first, he had already taken the class after all? And why the very thought of Hwang Hyunjin being with you by your locker afterschool while he had to wait outside for you made him so uncomfortable. Was uncomfortable the right word in this situation? He thought some more and concluded the thought of Hyunjin near you at all made him exceptionally mad, not just uncomfortable, for whatever the reason may have been (though he did have a hunch as to why he was feeling this way).

You looked over at the quiet boy next to you, noticing his intense state of thought, as he harshly bit his lower lip, furrowed his eyebrows slightly and kept an adamant gaze ahead of him. The sight was quite cute actually, cute enough to make you laugh. 

"Earth to Kim Seungmin, you are wanted here immediately, please report for duty," you giggled, dramatically waving your arm in front of his face to snap him out of his daze. 

"Sorry," Seungmin suddenly looks at you, cheeks hot and hands clenched onto the straps of his backpack. 

His gaze is not like anything you'd ever seen come from him. It looks serious, yet almost sad? The way his eyes look glossed over have you wanting to kiss his cheeks and lift the corners of his mouth to reveal his signature smile, the one you love so much.

But you know better than to let your imagination get the best of you and you quickly shake your head to get rid of such thoughts about your best friend in his very presence.

"No worries, just talk to me if you need to, okay?" You reach over to comfort him, rubbing his arm softly in assurance of your words. 

Little did you know you were killing Seungmin RIP. 

You were now approaching your front porch, ready to whip out your keys and say home sweet home. Seungmin always came over for a bit after school to talk and mess around a bit before starting homework and today was no different. 

But just as you opened the door with the thought about what video game Seungmin would want to play today floating in your head, you noticed the boy had yet to move from the step of the porch. 

"Seungmin? Don't you want to come in?" You walked back over to him, choosing to stay standing on the step above him. 

"Y/n," he practically whispered. 

Suddenly, at this close proximity, you realize the tension in his face and the worry behind his eyes and the burning of his cheeks. 

You softly reach over and unclasp one of Seungmin's hands from the strap of his bag, taking his hand into your own and rubbing your thumb over his numb knuckles for comfort. 

"Are you okay Minnie? Do you need water? Are you sick?" You reach up to his forehead with your other hand to check his temperature. 

"No, I just think I need to tell you something, now." He spoke formally, no hint of his usual teasing or playfulness when it came to you. 

You could only nod at his strange current state, you were quite concerned. 

"Don't take Hyunjin's help." He stated firmly, as if reading it from a list of rules. His serious disposition did not falter one bit, as if he had given out the most simple order. 

"Is this what this is about? Min, how am I supposed to pass that dumb class. Seungmin I'm failing, like with an F, I know you don't know what that's like, but neither did I until now and I have to fix it somehow! We can't all be straight A students without even having to try!" You were practically tearing up at the intensity of which your words came out, you'd slightly lost control of your emotions in the moment, but Seungmin remained calm through the sharp words you threw, knowing you were simply frustrated with your grades and held no ill intentions with them. 

"I can help you study, I can stay with you at the library all day explaining it to you if I have to, I'll take notes on your textbook and give them to you. Why didn't you tell me you needed help sooner?" He looked at you even more intensely, if that were even possibly. Then reaching over, he held your free hand in his own free hand. 

At this point the worry in his eyes only made you want to hug him for the rest of your life, but there was so much tension surrounding the two of you right now.

"Min, you don't have to do that. If you don't want me getting help from Hyunjin, I won't. I trust you. But you don't have to waste your time being my teacher, trust me on that, you'll regret it." You attempt to laugh off your answer while swinging his hands in yours to lighten the mood, even if it's just a bit. Unfortunately, your teary eyes from your previous outburst give you away as a tear rolls down your cheek. 

Seungmin was unsure about how to go about this further. He wasn't sure how you didn't seem to get it? That he would sacrifice his sleep to help you pass a class, just so he could be the one to help you, not some Hwang Hyunjin. That he wouldn't hesitate to do anything, and he means anything, if you simply asked. That he currently had more photos of you on his camera and phone than he did selfies of himself. That he liked you for fuck's sake. How could you have not seen it in his blushy mess of a nervous state right now. Was he really that freaking deep in the friendzone? 

"I want to waste my time teaching you chemistry because I know I won't regret it. Because I'd never regret time spent with you." His words remained calm and precise, again as if he had prepared them and read them off a notecard. He looked down at his shoes, unable to confront you after the cheesy words left his mouth. 

He felt his hands begin to moisten with sweat in your grasp and tried to remove them from your hands. However he was met with your refusal, as your hands tightly gripped his own. 

"Kim Seungmin, I like you. Like really like you. Like, like-like you. And you cannot say those things to me and be protective of me and be cheesy with me and expect me not to want to just hug you and kiss you as if we weren't just best friends!" You blurted, in a sing-song whine much like your usual tone with your best friend.

You took in a very long breath of frustration and looked down as well. 

You were so caught up in thoughts of the implications of the words that had left your mouth so quickly, that you did not bother to notice how Seungmin had in fact perked up at your words and practically resembled a tomato at this point, not that you looked any less of the shade of red.

“Wait what????” Seungmin was awestruck from your outburst, was he hallucinating? This was not the time for his imagination. 

“There is no way, I’m repeating that,” you pouted.

“Not even if, I tell you I feel the same?” Seungmin smiled.

“Maybe after…” you swung your intertwined hand again.

“After ….?” he mocks

Seungmin suddenly closes the already small distance between the two of you and lands his soft lips just barely on the surface of your cheek. 

“Can you say it again now?” he teases. 

All tension dispelled, the mood is suffocating with the puppy love-struck expressions emitting from both your eyes. 

- 

“Seungmin, how can you kiss me before you even tell me you like me?” 

You’re both inside now, after your apparently long-awaited confession, Seungmin had decided a cuddle session was called for in celebration, not that you were complaining. 

“I thought it was just obvious?” Seungmin replies 

“We could have been dating for so long by now,” You both sigh to one another at the thought you’d both had looming in your heads for the past hour.

“Guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” Minnie nuzzles his head into your neck trying to hide from his own sly remark. 

“Can we study chem now though, I’m still failing,” You whisper into his ear, the notion of that failing grade still very much prominent in your head. 

“In a bit, do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” The arms around your waist tighter their loose grip and Seungmin pulls you even closer to him, enough to feel the warmth emitting from his chest and suddenly you thought chem could wait.

[etymolo-drarry-ig]

Clueless

Draco has been dropping hints. Harry has yet to pick up on any of them.

---Harry’s POV---

In hindsight, the first hint was probably from the end of my third year.

"I have to tell you something," Draco had waved me over after the end-of-year feast. "But not here."

So we walked across the school grounds together, for the last time that school year. "I've been doing some thinking," Draco fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt. "And I'll understand if you don't want to be friends anymore—"

"Draco, just tell me," I interrupted him, and he took a deep breath.

"I'm gay," he said finally.

"Oh," I replied. I wasn't sure what the correct response was—my only experience thus far was from Seamus and Dean, but even I knew they fancied each other, and I'm oblivious. Neither of them were very subtle, after all.

Draco turned to me. "Do you—do you hate me?"

Now I was confused. "I don't hate Dean or Seamus, do I?" I pointed out. "I mean, sure, seeing them make out every single night does get kind of annoying," I laughed. "No, of course I don't hate you. You're still my best friend.”

Draco smiled gratefully, facing forward again. "I haven't told anyone else," he clenched his jaw.

Draco nodded tightly.

"I'm the first one you've told?" A warmth filled my chest. People didn't usually trust me with their secrets.

"How do—how do wizards feel about—er, gay people?" The words left my mouth rather clumsily.

"It depends, I guess," Draco shrugged, "we mostly don't care, but same-sex marriage is still illegal. I know that father expects me to produce an heir, regardless. I don't think mum will care."

I wrinkled my nose at the word produce, and Draco laughed.

"I think I'll tell mum this summer," he continued, "we're pretty good at keeping secrets from father," he smiled.

"I'm glad you told me," I responded, "thank you for trusting me."

---

The second hint came about halfway through fourth year. Draco had only come out to a few people: his mum, Pansy Parkinson, and me. My perception of gay people was totally flipped on its head when Draco came out—before, I assumed every gay person was just as flamboyant as Dean and Seamus, but Draco was definitely not flamboyant. He'd made me realize that gay people come in all shapes and sizes, too.

Therefore, I wasn't completely bewildered when I started noticing people in a brand new way. I knew something was up when Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang came strolling down the hallway, hand and hand, and I couldn't even tell which of them I was more jealous of.

"I have something to tell you," I approached Draco during lunch, and he scooted over to make room for me at the Slytherin table. None of his housemates batted an eye—I usually sat with Draco a few times a week, although it was usually for study purposes.

He raised an eyebrow when I subtly cast a muffling charm. "Remember what you told me about at the end of last year?" I asked, "the thing you had never told anyone else before?" I added, to make sure Draco understood.

He nodded cautiously. "What are you getting at?"

I swallowed. "Me too, I think. Well, kind of. I mean, I like girls, but—well, I'm like you, too."

"Really?" Draco seemed to perk up a little bit. "So you're bi? Or pan?"

I nodded. "I guess so."

“Well,” he cleared his throat and sat up straight. "In that case, would you—um," his face flushed.

I tilted my head to the side, wondering why he was so flustered.

"Well, since we're both, you know," Draco continued, "maybe you would want to experiment?"

"Oh," I blinked. I hadn't really thought of actually being with anyone. Okay, I may have considered what dating Cho or Cedric would be like—but I hadn't taken it seriously . "I—I don't know," I admitted, "I don't know if I'm—what's the word?" I scratched my head, trying to remember the phrase Hermione had used. "Emotionally stable, I think? I don't think I could with anyone right now."

It was the truth, after all. Even if Cho or Cedric approached me, I don't think I'd be ready to be in a relationship.

"Oh," Draco returned to his mashed potatoes. "I just thought I'd ask. Hey," he nudged me with his elbow. "Now we can check out guys together, huh?"

I laughed and lowered my voice. "Have you seen Cedric Diggory? Merlin."

Draco laughed. "I'm more of a Victor Krum kind of guy, myself."

I chuckled. "Too bad for you, he's completely smitten with Hermione."

---

The next hint came at the end of fourth year. It was the last week before term ended, and for the first time in my life, I was excited for the summer. For the first time, I wasn't returning to the Dursley’s over the summer.

You see, fourth year had been kind of crazy for me. Aside from the Triwizard Tournament, (which Cedric won, of course, because he's amazing) I found out that I had a godfather—the reason no one bothered to tell me was because he was in prison.

Now that I was fourteen, I was allowed full access to my parents' Gringotts vault. I'd always thought there was something fishy about my parents' death—not the Voldemort part, but the fact that the only thing left of Peter Pettigrew was a finger. I mean, come on , there was a fully intact finger, but no bone fragments from the rest of the body?

So with the help of Ron, Hermione, and Draco, we tracked down my parents' will and discovered that not only had they changed Secret Keepers, but Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus. A rat animagus.

And Ron's pet rat was missing a finger.

All it took was a quick trip to McGonagall's classroom to force Scabbers into his human form, and then… well, I didn't get very involved in the politics, but long story short, Sirius Black was a free man.

And I would be staying with him this summer.

Even better, in my opinion, was that Remus Lupin, another friend of my parents, would be staying with us, too. He and Sirius had started dating during school, apparently, and even thirteen years of Azkaban wasn't enough to drive them apart.

I was finally going to live with my family.

The Sunday before the end of term, Draco appeared at the Gryffindor table during breakfast. " Potter," he tapped me on the shoulder impatiently, and I turned to look at him. "Have you seen the Prophet?" He asked.

I shook my head. I never read the Prophet anymore—I had gotten tired of reading the rumors about me and my friends.

Draco shoved aside my plate to make room for his. "Well, you should read it."

I looked over to Hermione, who helpfully handed over her copy without a word. "Where should I be looking?" I asked.

"Page two, column three," Draco answered.

"Holy shit," I gasped, reading the headline. "’Same-sex marriage legalized in Wizarding Britain.' Hermione, Ron, look at this," I grinned.

I still remember the date. June 26th, 1991.

Even though most of them were straight, we were still crying by the end of breakfast. Seamus and Dean vanished for a celebratory makeout session, and Draco pulled me aside when I was done eating.

"This is fantastic," I told him, "Sirius and Remus can get married now, if they want."

"It's brilliant," Draco agreed. "Listen, since today's a special day and all, I thought I'd ask—" he paused, fidgeting with one of his rings.

I raised an eyebrow. "Ask me what?"

"Um, well, would you want to maybe be my boyfriend?"

My eyes widened. "Oh, I, um—" I stuttered. It didn't seem like a serious inquiry—he was only asking because of the legalization, right? "I don't—I don't  think I can handle that sort of thing right now," I confessed.

"Okay," Draco said easily, "you have a lot going on, after all. I just figured I'd ask." Then he left, leaving me alone and confused.

It was just a friendly question, right? Obviously he didn't actually like me—it was just a thing of convenience. He likes guys, I like guys, we're friends, so it was convenient.

Maybe if I'd felt more comfortable with the idea of dating someone, I would've said yes. He was my best friend, after all, and a great person. And he was quite attractive—not that I'd ever tell him that.

I sighed, putting the situation out of my mind for the time being. I wanted to write a letter to Sirius and Remus, after all.

---

Every year on Valentine’s Day, the professors collect valentines and distribute them to their intended recipients—thankfully, after the Lockhart incident in second year, the valentines no longer sang. Originally, valentines were sent like normal mail, but the horrifying number of valentines sent to me during first year had created an owl-jam, so the professors had to come up with an alternative.

For reasons you can probably guess, I'm not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I still read all the messages, though, but that's mostly because Fred and George always make sure to send me dozens of valentines, each one being more elaborate than the last.

During my fifth year, there was something a little different—one of the notes wasn't signed with a name. The valentines I got were never anonymous, so to have one signed "your secret admirer" was odd.

Dear Harry,

I apologize for adding to the torrent of messages sent to you this year, but I have something to get off my chest. I don't think you'll ever consider me as more than a friend, but I have a huge crush on you. Happy Valentine's Day.

-Your secret admirer

Something was bothering me about the handwriting, too. It looked oddly familiar.

"You okay, Harry?" Hermione watched me frown at the note in my hand.

"Yeah," I said, "I just don't know who this is from," I handed her the slip of parchment, and she shrugged.

"It says that you're friends, right?" She tilted her head. "Maybe that's a hint."

After breakfast was over, and I had vanished most of the valentines, I brought the note over to Draco. "Do you recognize this handwriting?" I asked, "I don't know who sent it."

"Probably because they didn't put their name," Draco said sarcastically, staring at the note in my hand. "Do you—do you recognize the handwriting?"

I studied the curvy script. "It could maybe be a girl's handwriting," I suggested

"It's not that feminine," Draco replied, "besides, you wouldn't know decent handwriting if it slapped you in the face."

"Oh, shut up."

---

Two weeks later, I still hadn't figured out who'd sent me the note. "Maybe you should see if the handwriting matches one of your friends," Draco suggested.

Hermione nodded. "Maybe you can check old notes you've passed in class."

"Merlin, are we still talking about this?" Ron rolled his eyes, "rook to D-8," he added, and the chess board adjusted accordingly.

"I think it's cute," Hermione mused, "you're invested."

"I'm not cute, 'Mione," I grumbled.

"Oh, but your secret admirer begs to differ," Draco teased.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," I grumbled, but I was grinning.

---

Draco sat against the tree trunk, the sunlight causing his hair to glow. "Have you still not figured it out?" For some reason, Draco was exasperated. "You compared handwritings and everything?"

I nodded. "I did everything you guys suggested." I laid back on the ground. I honestly didn't care who it was at this point, because the sender definitely wasn't who I hoped it was.

Yeah, that's right. Draco had asked me out last year, and it seemed to have gone to my head, because now I fancied him. Which sucked, because there was no way he liked me back—we were just friends.

"You're an idiot, Harry."

"Tell me something I don't know," I responded, avoiding his gaze. I was not going to blush, I wasn't, I—

"Look at me, Harry."

I blushed.

"Do you want to know who it is?" Draco raised his eyebrows, and I nodded quickly. "It's me."

"I—" what? "You? But that means—you have a crush on me? Wait, but— really?"

Draco waited for me to finish spluttering. "I've fancied you since third year," he deadpanned.

I sat up quickly. "Oh," I said. Think fast. "Er—then," I scratched the back of my neck, "do you want to watch the quidditch match with me this weekend?"

He frowned. "We're already going to watch toget— oh, you mean as a date?" I nodded quickly, and he rolled his eyes. "You know, if the roles were reversed," he gestured between us, "you would not have picked up on that."

I buried my face into my hands. "Oh, shut up."

---

The quidditch match was Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, which meant my loyalty was divided on account of the two seekers, Cho and Cedric.

"Who do you think will catch the snitch?" I asked Draco.

"Cedric, definitely," he scoffed, "he has the better broom."

"Cho makes sharper turns, though," I pointed out.

"Technique can only get you so far."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that a challenge?"

Draco tilted his head. "Perhaps."

I huffed. "Fine. Seeker's game later?"

"You're on."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ron and Hermione waving frantically to Draco from a few rows away. When I turned, though, they abruptly stopped. "What was that?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, "I don't know."

I eyed him. "It's nothing, or you don't know?"

"I don't know," he repeated.

I sighed and turned back to the game, but Ron started waving again. "What are you doing?" I called to him, but he only shrugged, as if to say I don't know what you're talking about.

"Seriously, what's going on?" I asked Draco, who laughed at me.

"Why, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know, because you won't tell me, " I sighed in exasperation and turned back to the game, just in time for Cho to spot the snitch

She dove for it, and Cedric followed close behind. The snitch made a sharp turn, though, and Cedric wasn't able to change direction fast enough. "Told you," I elbowed Draco, who nudged me back.

"Told you," he replied as Cedric quickly gained on Cho until they were neck-and-neck. I grabbed his hand in anticipation as they got closer… and closer… and Cedric reached forward and snatched the snitch out of the air.

"YES!" we jumped from our seats, cheering loudly. Hufflepuff won, 220 to 80 points.

"I told you," Draco gloated, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I couldn't stop grinning, but it didn't have to do with who caught the snitch. My stomach fluttered—I was holding his hand.

The pitch emptied quickly, with Ron and Hermione helpfully leaving us behind. We grabbed our brooms and headed for the center of the field, not bothering to change into quidditch robes.

"Er, listen, Harry—" Draco said before I could release the snitch.

"Yeah?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say sorry, for, um—"

I furrowed my brow. "For what?"

"I dunno, for being too forward?" His eyes darted around the pitch.

"What? You didn't even do anything—" unfortunately.

"I feel like I did, though," he ran his fingers through his hair, and my heart fluttered. "What?" He watched me bite my lip.

"I—I have butterflies," I answered shyly.

"Well, you shouldn't have eaten so many butterflies, then," he replied cheekily, and I shoved his shoulder, laughing. "Why do you have butterflies?"

My face reddened. "Because I—because I fancy you," I answered, and his eyes widened.

"You do? But I thought—"

"I mean, you asked me out in June, and I know you meant it as a friend thing," I said, "but I guess it went to my head, because now—"

"Hold on," Draco interrupted me, "who in their right mind asks someone out as a friend?"

I paused. "You?"

He bit his lip. "You really are an idiot," he said softly.

I was silent for a moment, staring at his lips. "Can I—um," I heard myself say, "can I kiss you?"

Draco didn't answer; instead, he pulled me towards him, swiftly planting a kiss on my lips.

My brain seemed to short circuit, but at some point, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, standing on my tip-toes to easily reach him. We stayed like that for Merlin-knows-how-long, standing in the middle of the quidditch pitch with our arms wrapped around each other.

We never did play that seeker's game.

(wattpad) (ao3)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN FOUNDERS

Pretty soon you'll start noticing what makes the number go up, and the bad gets ignored. Informal language is the athletic clothing of ideas. This is a controversial view.1 They work odd hours, wearing the most casual of clothing.2 And yet while there are in fact not insoluble after all. It's also more formal and distant, which gives the reader's attention permission to drift. There would be no more Calvin Coolidges. Lots of startups that make something popular manage to make money from it. Afterwards I realized it could be any other way. It describes the work I've done to improve the world. And someone who's being whisked along while seeming to do no work—someone in a sedan chair, for example, so far that we didn't even know at the time the starving part is actually quite easy, so I emailed the ycfounders list. This essay is derived from a talk at Oscon 2005.3

Impossible? Being something is incidental; the immediate problem is not to try hard enough. Hackers & Painters. Its main purpose is to refine the idea.4 What will happen when they do? But a discussion today about a battle that included citizens of one or more of the countries involved would probably degenerate into a political argument. Millions of people are publishing online, and the best stuff prevails. The cause of this problem. No one can accuse you of unjustly switching pipe suppliers.

But we soon saw we needed a third: promising people with unpromising ideas.5 They know, in the sense of its origins and its semantic core.6 Bullying was only part of the popularity landscape.7 And though we differ from other investors on a lot of changes that have been forced on VCs, this change won't turn out to have more sentences in imperative mood, and in particular, don't be deterred from applying to Y Combinator, it just means more work for them. How do we fix that? I wouldn't wish that on anyone.8 My theory doesn't require that. If you start with them, you'll have to earn your keep. The time required to raise money is that they're embarrassed to go back to their partners looking like they got beaten. We were a bit like an adult would be if he were thrust back into middle school.

If they had, Google presumably wouldn't have expended any effort on enterprise search. If you start a startup, you have to face the fact that the text is email, and spam in particular. But these had had literally orders of magnitude less scrutiny. If you're sufficiently perceptive you can grasp these things while you're still in school is that there's a built-in escape hatch. Why don't more people start startups?9 And it's true, the benefit that specific manager could derive from the forces I've described. This sucks.

In middle school and high school, watching as the cheerleaders threw an effigy of an opposing player into the audience to be torn to pieces. I make my own life worse. Systematic is the last word I'd use to describe the increasing tendency of physical machinery to be replaced by what we would now call software. Increasingly the games that matter are not zero-sum. Judging startups is hard even for the most part act as if founders retaining board control after a series A, that will change the atmosphere, and not entirely for the better. Someone riding a Segway is that you look smug. 5 $90k total. In the channel era, both flowed down from the top that it would be to establish a first-rate research university in a nice place, it would be misleading even to call them centers. And barring financial catastrophe, I think in the coming year it will become the norm. I didn't make a lot of mistakes. I was still ambivalent about business.

They at least were in Boston. They just haven't been as great a way to fix that by writing software, you're onto something, because a lot of maximally interesting tokens, the result can end up counting the same word multiple times, according to your old definition of same. The atmosphere of the average workplace is to productivity what flames painted on the side while working on their startup for a whole year before being squashed by Google Calendar.10 Now for the really shocking news: during that same one-month period I got three false positives. And that statistic is probably not an anomaly. Where I grew up, it felt like the center of the world, your work is your identity. Companies spend millions to build office buildings for a single purpose: to be a belief in government. They've faced resistance from investors of course. Spam uses a very simple definition of a real problem.

Notes

But it wouldn't be irrational. This just seems to have invented. In principle companies aren't limited by the investors.

At this point. Simpler just to load a problem that they kill you—when you have to think about so-called signalling risk is also to the founders'. You can safely write off all the investors talking to a VC recently who said he'd met with a neologism. Letter to Ottoline Morrell, December 1912.

Good and bad luck. Garry Tan pointed out by solving his own problems.

The kind of bug to find a kid, this would work to have lunch at the end of the next round is high, so they made much of the best high school to be obscure; they may then, depending on their ability but women based on that? Particularly since economic inequality—that startups usually lose money at all. After reading a draft of this talk became Why Startups Condense in America consider acting white.

If the rich paid high taxes during the war. As one very successful YC founder told me they do the startup in question usually is doing badly in your classes because you have a quality that feels a lot lobbying for harsh sentencing laws, starting with the best approach is to discount, but I managed to get market price if they ultimately choose not to feel guilty about it.

You can retroactively describe any made-up idea as an adult. As Secretary of State and the ordering system, which shoppers used to build consumer electronics and to a 2002 report by the time I had zero effect on social ones. That's the best day job writing software goes up more than others, no matter how good you can talk about it. Together these were the richest of their times.

The Baumol Effect induced by startups is uninterruptability. Users dislike their new operating system. On the other direction Y Combinator never negotiates valuations is that you'll have to admit there's no center to walk to.

At Lotus in the world as a predictor of high school.

Believe me, rejection still rankles but I've come to you as employees by buying an additional page to deal with the solutions.

What I'm claiming with the best thing for startups is uninterruptability. In fact, we don't have enough equity left to motivate them. A small, fast browser that you can see how universally faces work by their prevalence in advertising.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Paul Buchheit, Trevor Blackwell, Harjeet Taggar, Robert Morris essay, and Mike Moritz for sparking my interest in this topic.

[gretagerwigarchive]

Greta Gerwig: 'I'm at peak shock and happiness'

by  Tim Lewis, Sun 4 Feb 2018.

source: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/feb/04/greta-gerwig-lady-bird-interview-metoo-oscars

This year’s Oscar nominations were announced a couple of Tuesdays ago in Los Angeles at the frankly antisocial hour of 5.22am. Greta Gerwig, whose very personal, coming-of-age debut film Lady Bird was hotly tipped, lives in New York but happened to be in LA for work. She woke up first at 3.30am: “And I said, ‘No, it’s not time’ and I forced myself to go back to sleep.” When she eventually surfaced just before seven, the nominations were headlines around the world. Gerwig made herself a coffee, had a shower and ever-so-casually checked her phone. There it was: she’d made the cut for best original screenplay. And “achievement in directing”. Oh, and Lady Bird was in the running for best picture, too.              

“I started crying and laughing and screaming,” says the 34-year-old Gerwig, who, until now, has been mainly known as an actor, often in comic roles. “And it sunk in… It’s still sinking in. It doesn’t quite feel real. You’re still getting me at peak shock and happiness.”

The Oscar selections were a personal triumph for Gerwig and for Lady Bird – its stars, Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalf, who play a squabbling daughter and mother, are also nominated – but it was an important moment for female film-makers everywhere. Gerwig, scarcely credibly, is only the fifth woman ever to be shortlisted in the best director category at the Academy Awards in its 90 years. If she wins on 4 March, she will only be the second, after Kathryn Bigelow for The Hurt Locker in 2010, to take the honour.

“I remember very well when Sofia Coppola was nominated for best director and won best screenplay [for Lost in Translation in 2004] and what that meant to me,” says Gerwig on the phone from New York last week. “And I remember when Kathryn Bigelow won for best director and how it seemed as if possibilities were expanded because of it. I genuinely hope that what this means to women of all ages – young women, women who are well into their careers – is that they look at this and they think, ‘I want to go make my movie.’ Because a diversity of storytellers is incredibly important and also I want to see their movies. I want to know what they have to say! So I hope that’s what it does.”

These have been a seismic few months for women in the film industry. The allegations against the producer Harvey Weinstein and others, while monstrous in their scope and detail, have led to the most positive kind of backlash: through the #MeToo and Time’s Up movements, and the 50/50 by 2020 initiative, which aims to have male-female parity in the business world in two years. There’s an optimism that Hollywood has changed for ever.

“I think it’s going to shift much more quickly now,” says Gerwig. “When studios are looking to hire now, they’ll ask themselves – as they rightly should – ‘Is there a woman who is qualified for this job?’ That’s tremendously important. And again, if I were running a studio, I would think that it’s just good business. Because I look at the audience response to films made by women about women that have done incredibly well and I’d say, ‘Well, that’s a reason right off the bat.’”

As for whether there are any plans for a co-ordinated style protest at this year’s Oscars, in line with the black gowns at the Golden Globes or white roses at the Grammys, both orchestrated by the Time’s Up organisers, Gerwig is unsure. “I am not aware of a dress code,” she says. But if there is, she’s in: “I’m in awe of the people who are collectively working on this.”

Gerwig insists she hasn’t dared yet think about how it would feel to win an Oscar. But if the Golden Globes, where Lady Bird took the prize for best film (comedy/musical), is anything to go by, she might well struggle to hold it together. “I had an entire speech prepared but once I got up there, none of it came out,” she says with a laugh. “I was looking down and I saw Oprah and Steven Spielberg and I just went into a state of sublime happiness. I think I just said ‘thank you’ a lot. So my guess would be, I’ll prepare and probably I’ll not say any of it – if it should happen. Because that’s just how those moments seem to go for me.”

When I first talk to Gerwig, on an otherwise regulation Friday during the London film festival, there is a surreal, even comic, imbalance in London’s Soho hotel. Movie stars, it appears, outnumber the rest of us. Bill Nighy stands at a urinal in the men’s room, director Alexander Payne sweeps through the lobby. In the lift up to the suite where Gerwig is doing interviews, who else? The great Christoph Waltz.

“Christoph Waltz is here?” she shrieks. The pair became friends when they were on the jury for the Berlin film festival and catch up every so often for dinner in New York. “He’s one of my favourite people; he makes fun of me the entire time,” says Gerwig. “On the jury, there was this one time where we had a meeting with Angela Merkel. So I wore something that felt appropriate for a daytime lunch with a head of state. And I showed up and Christoph looked at me and said – she slips into a strident Mitteleuropean accent – ‘Greta, are you applying for an internship with Angela?’” Gerwig cracks up. “‘Did you bring your resumé?’ I looked such a nerd.”

Payne she knows less well, but is an ardent fan. At the Telluride festival last September, there was a photocall for the film-makers in attendance and Gerwig collected a giant bruise on her leg trying to hurdle a bench to tell Payne how much she liked his latest movie, Downsizing. “I thought, ‘I must tell him it’s a masterpiece,’” she explains. “So as I’m jumping over the bench, it clipped my shin and I went sprawling. Everyone turned to look and I looked up at him and I said, ‘It was a masterpiece!’ And he said, ‘You could have just walked over.’”

Right now, there are plenty of people – rightly and properly, albeit metaphorically – tripping over furniture to tell Gerwig that she’s made her own masterpiece. Lady Bird is a beautiful, affectionate rumination on the mother-daughter dynamic that could well be this year’s Moonlight: an underdog that charms and surprises, and overshadows everything else.

It is not immediately clear how to square these achievements with Gerwig’s tendency towards self-deprecation. Physically, she mixes elegance with eccentricity. At 5ft 9in, with credulous sea-green eyes, and today wearing a pink, pleated cocktail dress with buckled black-and-white heels, she presents an image of impossible glamour. But she undercuts the effect by slouching a little, laughing unguardedly and demonstrating odd and endearing mannerisms, such as the stiff handshake of a Victorian industrialist packing his son off to boarding school.

“I arrived on a flight this morning at 6am, so this is all pretend,” she explains, smoothing an invisible wrinkle on her frock. “I don’t actually feel like this inside. People came to my room and made me look nice. I know, everyone needs it.”

In Lady Bird and before, Gerwig is drawn to dreamers: young women who believe they are destined for greatness, even when the audience finds plenty of cause to doubt that. The film follows Ronan as 17-year-old Christine McPherson, who’d rather you call her Lady Bird: when asked if it’s her given name, she clarifies: “It’s given to me, by me.” The year is 2002, the place is Sacramento, a mid-size city in California, and both these facts are a cruel disappointment to her: “The only exciting thing about 2002 is that it’s a palindrome,” Lady Bird sighs. She’s in her final year at an all-girls Catholic high school and, after graduating, she wants to move to the east coast to study, “where writers live in the woods”. This is one of many, though perhaps the most irreconcilable, point of contention with her mother, Marion (a heart-wrenching Metcalf).

It has been a common assumption that Lady Bird is Gerwig’s teenage diaries transcribed. She, too, grew up in Sacramento and attended a Catholic school there, before escaping to the other side of the country, to Barnard College in New York, where she studied English and wanted to become a playwright. But, Gerwig notes, not sniffily, that there are plenty of differences, as well. She didn’t dye her hair pink or assume a strange name or even argue that viciously with her mother.

“Even though it isn’t literally autobiographical there’s a core of emotional truth that’s very resonant,” says Gerwig. “Again, it’s not what literally happened, but it does rhyme with the truth. It’s close in a way. And it doesn’t bother me, because it’s the assumption people make and in a way maybe they make that assumption because it feels very real. So it’s not dissimilar to when people think a character is you. Which you could be offended by or you could also think, ‘Well, then I’ve done my job. You’ve believed it. You think that’s me.’

“But I don’t know,” she continues. “I think one thing about doing this for a period of time is that you learn how to live through either misconceptions or correct conceptions and just continue doing the work. Because then you figure, ‘Well, in the end, I’ll just be an old lady one day and then they’ll think, Oh, she’s an old lady.’ And they’ll be right!”

What, then, are some solid, hard facts about Gerwig? She is the eldest child of Gordon and Christine, a loans officer for a credit union and a retired nurse respectively. As a child, she was a diligent student with an obsessive streak: her first passion was dancing; later, she would become skilled in the sport of fencing.

“I loved ballet,” says Gerwig. “I always knew I wasn’t the most naturally gifted of anyone who was doing ballet. I didn’t have quite enough turn out, my feet weren’t quite right, but I did work harder than anyone else. And I think that’s something I have maintained. There’s no substitute for hard work.”

Gerwig acted a little at school but became more serious at college. She saw herself as a theatre person, but when she was rejected from graduate programmes in playwriting, she started working on films with her friends. These no-budget projects became notorious in arty, hipster circles and then beyond, where they were, somewhat derisively, called mumblecore; they were sketched out, but not scripted, and the makers were involved in every aspect of production.

“Those became kind of a makeshift film school for me,” says Gerwig, referring to LOL (2006), Hannah Takes the Stairs (2007) and Nights and Weekends (2008), which she made with Joe Swanberg. “When I went into pre-production for Lady Bird, I’d been working in films in different capacities for 10 years. Especially on the early little ones because it was an all-hands-on-deck situation. If you weren’t doing something on camera, you held the camera.”

These early films, too, led in a roundabout way to Gerwig’s acting breakthrough. Swanberg knew the director Noah Baumbach and he then cast her in his 2010 film Greenberg, opposite Ben Stiller. The film received mixed notices, but Gerwig’s performance caught many eyes. In the New York Times, critic AO Scott described her style as a method without method. “Ms Gerwig,” he wrote, “most likely without intending to be anything of the kind, may well be the definitive screen actress of her generation, a judgment I offer with all sincerity and a measure of ambivalence.”

Greenberg was a life-changing experience personally as well: after it wrapped, Gerwig and Baumbach began dating, for a while on the down-low, these days more openly, though Gerwig tends to refer to him as “Noah Baumbach” or “Baumbach” in our interview, suggesting they keep their work and private lives quite distinct. They soon began collaborating and their first film as a writing team was 2012’s Frances Ha, a warm-hearted, black-and-white comedy about a dancer, Frances (Gerwig), who doesn’t seem wholly cut out for the real world. They followed that with Mistress America in 2015, which has a similar vibe: Gerwig plays Brooke, who has a million creative ideas and a very low strike rate.

Gerwig’s writing, first with Baumbach and now on her own, has a naturalistic tone that is funny without having jokes, heartbreaking without being schmaltzy, highly specific and yet clearly universal. She is so particular about how the dialogue sounds – the “music” of speech – that there is a not a single line of improvisation in Lady Bird, not even an added “like” or “you know”.

“I like language that sounds quotidian but poetic,” says Gerwig – the perfect description. “Something that maybe the character doesn’t even know is as beautiful as it is. That’s something I was working through when I was writing with Noah Baumbach and I just kept moving in that direction. That was always what I liked. That quality of stumbling into beauty and then it’s gone.”

It is a timely moment for Gerwig to emerge as a director and for her debut to have such an assured, idiosyncratic voice. Despite the success of Lady Bird at the Golden Globes in January, Gerwig was a glaring absentee on the best director shortlist. Natalie Portman, presenting the award, made the point succinctly, announcing: “And here are the all-male nominees.” Likewise, the Baftas have a five-man shortlist.

Of course, this is just one facet of the soul searching that the film industry is now going through. In the week that I meet Gerwig, the first allegations of sexual abuse have been made against Harvey Weinstein, and it was clear that Gerwig found the revelations upsetting and deeply shocking.

“I felt so badly for all those women,” she says, “and I felt so understanding of where they were, especially the young women, the women who were in college, the women who were just excited about movies and film-making and found themselves in a position that they didn’t know how to say no, but they didn’t know how to leave and that they felt overpowered and then they felt scared to say anything.”

There are tears in her eyes; her voice cracks. “I’ve felt for so long that there just need to be more women in positions of power,” Gerwig goes on. “Not that women are magic or perfect beings, but that they need to have a seat at the table because then I would think that things like this would have far less chance of happening.”

When Gerwig realised she was writing about mothers and daughters, she started thinking about movies that covered a similar theme. There were hundreds of films on the father-son relationship, including some excellent ones by Baumbach, but she struggled to think of stories told from the female perspective: James Brooks’s Terms of Endearment (1983) and Mike Leigh’s Secrets and Lies (1996) were among the rare inspirations. “There are surprisingly few movies about it,” says Gerwig, “and I think that speaks to the fact that there are surprisingly few female film-makers.”

In preparation for shooting Lady Bird, Gerwig created dossiers for her lead characters. Timothée Chalamet, for example – who plays Lady Bird’s crush Kyle and is also Oscar-nominated this year for his role in another coming-of- age drama, Call Me By Your Name – was directed towards the films of Éric Rohmer and a collection of theoretical essays, The Internet Does Not Exist. Kyle is a pretentious mansplainer: he lectures Lady Bird on how mobile phones are tracking devices for the government and that clove cigarettes have fibreglass in them. At one point, he puts down Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States to announce, “I’m trying to live by bartering alone”.

Kyle’s a pseud, but Gerwig clearly has a soft spot for him. “I am not a fan of phones,” she explains. “I talked for a long time with Timothée about his character’s beliefs, and he said, ‘The funny thing is that everybody is going to think you’re Lady Bird, but you’re Kyle’.” Gerwig laughs, “And I was like, ‘I know! I am secretly Kyle.’ I have all of the same paranoias as Kyle does.”

Gerwig is technically a millennial, but not spiritually so. She grew up pre-internet and has no social media presence: “Sure, I’ll lurk. But I don’t participate. I’m just a Peeping Tom.” Part of the reason for setting Lady Bird in 2002 is that it’s not “cinematic” to shoot screens. She longs for the pre-phone era when you couldn’t get hold of someone instantly, and the only way to find them would be to drive around to all the locations they might be. We rarely allow ourselves to become properly bored, Gerwig believes, and the internet and smartphones are in part responsible.

On the wall of her bedroom, Lady Bird has the Leo Tolstoy quote, “Boredom: the desire for desires.” “Boredom is, I think, pretty useful,” says Gerwig. “You need to reach a level of boredom to make anything. Because I don’t know if you remember, being bored as a kid, just so bored. You were at a grocery store with your mom and you were like, ‘It’s just excruciating!’ But then you get to a point where you start making up a game for yourself or you’ll start imagining things or whatever it is. But I worry that we’ve lost that capacity, which I think maybe erodes some creativity as well.

“I’m just as bad as anyone,” she admits. “Because it’s like your flitting brain can be completely satisfied by this machine that can give you feedback for all of your passing thoughts. Like, ‘Where can you grow avocados?’ I don’t know, let’s find out. And then, ‘Oh, how much water does an avocado tree take every year?’ Let’s look at that. And then, ‘Different crops and the water usage for each of them.’ You are creating this weird feedback loop for yourself.”

This is a very Gerwigian conundrum: hem-hawing about restricting access to the internet because she’s worried she’ll waste time Googling avocados. But she’s not saying it to be cute. It clearly concerns her. One of the strict directives on the set of the Lady Bird was that it was entirely phone-free. “And not just for the actors, for the crew,” she says, “because it’s quite depressing for an actor to be doing an emotional scene and look over and see someone checking Instagram. It’s a real bummer. But it was quite impressive, because I had a lot of young people in this movie and none of them ever brought their phones to set. Saoirse set the tone: I never saw her on her phone, never once.”

Gerwig is effusive about her two stars, Ronan and Metcalf. Everything in the film, she says, comes back to “the central love story” between Marion and Christine, mother and daughter. “For all of time it’s probably been the most rich, fraught relationship. Something with Laurie and Saoirse that I loved was that they were the same height and I gave them the same haircuts so that when they were in profile, you say: ‘Oh, you’re so at odds with each other but actually you’re the same. And that’s why the fighting is so intense because you guys can both bring it.’

“So I knew I needed actresses who could punch the same weight class,” Gerwig adds. “They give extraordinary performances and they should get all the statues and prizes. Work like that should be rewarded.”

For her part, whatever happens, Gerwig insists that little will change. She will keep acting – when the project and specifically the director is right – and she wants to collaborate with Baumbach again: “I hope Noah and I will write another movie together because it’s really, really fun.” She also wants to start her own production company one day. “It’s important that if you have any kind of a platform and it matters to you that you should figure out how to bring other people along,” she says.

As for the Oscars, she is not about to pretend that she’s not freaking out a little. “I grew up watching all the award shows and I’d put on a fancy dress and watch it with my friends,” Gerwig recalls. “It’s thrilling and it’s also part of what the dream of making films is.”

Then Gerwig’s eyes narrow; these are defining moments both for her personally as a director and also as an inspirational member of the too-small band of female film-makers. “But awards are not important in terms of whether or not I’ll make another film,” she says. “I’ll keep making films, no matter what.”