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missymallow · 3 years ago

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Drarry: Crush 2.0 (4)

Part [1] [2] [3]

——[dub!con?]——

"Well, I think we’re done for today!" announced Draco, pulling his sweaty hand away from Potter's clutch.

They were sitting on the floor, coffee table as their desk, facing each other. The hand-holding method seemed to work on Potter, much to his amusement. They have been holding hands the entire session, with Potter's thumb caressing his knuckles back and forth. Interestingly, Draco didn't mind the gesture. In fact, he found it rather calming, and Potter managed to pay attention throughout their session, so Draco counted it as a win.

He began to pack his tutoring devices, stuffing it into his bag and stood up, looking at Potter's disbelief face expectantly.

"Wait, that's it?" asked Potter incredulously, moving up to his feet.

Draco nodded, a bit confused with Potter's reaction. "Our time is up, Potter. Don't you have practice?"

"No?” pointed Potter out, while gesturing to his surroundings, “Why do you think we are at my house?"

Draco titled his head, "Sufficiency?"

"No!" exclaimed Potter, "I want to spend time with you!"

"Willingly?" asked Draco, eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, yes!"

"Oh," said Draco, eloquently. He regarded Potter's words with perplexity. No one had a mind to spend their time with him except for tutoring sessions. The idea seemed intriguing to him, as he weirdly felt excited that Potter wanted to hang out with him. It was unfortunate that he needed to head home, however.

"It seems like a lovely idea, Potter." he began cautiously. "Unfortunately, I had to—what are you doing?" He stepped backwards when Potter suddenly moved forward in a predatory step, full of purpose.

"Stop right there!" ordered Draco, pointing a finger at Potter who doesn't even seem wanting to stop. Instead, he fastened his pace making Draco hastily move backwards blindly until his back collided with a wall.

"Potter," warned Draco, when the other kept walking forwards until he stopped in front of Draco with an arm away.

"Tell me why you can't spend your time with me." demanded Potter.

"I have to head home, Potter." replied Draco. "I have some chores to be done as soon as possible, or else my bint of a housemate will amend my possessions."

"Chores can wait," said Potter, stepping closer.

"Not all of us have maids to do our chores, Potter." huffed Draco. "So, it can't wait. I have another session in three hours, and another in six, so I'm running out of time."

"Cancel your sessions." a step closer.

"I can't, Potter," sighed Draco. "The school paid me for these sessions."

"When are you free, then?" a step closer.

"When I'm done with my sessions," shrugged Draco. "Late in the evening usually."

"I don't like it." frowned Potter.

"Well," Draco put a hand on Potter's stomach when the boy stepped closer, feet touching. His heart decidedly felt weird at their proximity. "Thank God you're not the one who's going to spend their time tutoring people, then."

"And before you want to say anything," Draco raised a finger when Potter began to open his mouth. "I like being busy, helping others with their studies."

"I'll keep you busy." growled Potter, "If that's what you want."

"Helping others too?"

"None of them are my concerns," said Potter, moved even closer that he was crowding Draco. He raised a hand and put them next to Draco’s head, another went to sneak around his waist. He pulled Draco towards him. "You are."

"You're getting too handsy, Potter." Glared Draco, in contrast to his fast beating heart. He could feel Potter's warmth pressed on his body. "Hands off my person."

"Cancel your sessions, first.”

"Oh, very funny." scoffed Draco. "Tell that to the principal," he joked.

"I will." Answered Potter, determined.

"He'll listen to you?" mocked Draco, raising a challenging brow.

"Why not?" said Potter with a tilt of his lips. "How hard can it be to persuade the principal?"

"I would like to see you try." dared Draco.

"And what do I get out of it?" asked Potter, eyes with determination.

"Spending your time with me, as bizarre as it sounds. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Potter's eyes gleamed. "Holding hands and kisses too?"

Confident that Potter didn't have the balls to negotiate with the principal about the cancellation of his tutoring sessions, he decided to humour the other boy. "Why not, it seems only fair to me since you're willing to do such a favour."

Honestly, he was only taking the piss. There was no need to inform the principal for tutor session cancellation. The tutors only need to inform the authorities, state their reason for doing so and they need to replace the session after. Draco has never had the intention to cancel a session before, so he had never done so.

He was greatly surprised however, to see Potter's eyes shone with mischief, as if he was the one who was challenging Draco.

"Very well," said Potter, squeezing his waist before he let him go and went to his night stand, retrieving his phone. He gave Draco a sly grin, began typing through his phone and held it to his ear. He winked at Draco, and began talking as he walked to stand far away from Draco that he couldn't hear a word of the conversation.

Draco watched, feeling a little bit wrong footed to see Potter talked through the phone rather confidently. He couldn't be really talking to the principal, could he?

He stood up straighter when Potter made his way towards him, a sly grin decorating his face. He went straight to Draco’s personal space, handing him the phone.

"The principal would like to talk to you," said Potter with a smirk.

Stupefied in disbelief, Draco took the phone, and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Young Malfoy!" came the principal—Professor Lupin's voice through the speaker.

"Professor Lupin?" asked Draco, blinking his eyes widely. Mother of Holy, it was really Professor Lupin!

"I was informed that you're not feeling well?"

"I—" Draco dragged his eyes to Potter, who was now grinning with smugness, and already had his hands wrapped around him in a hug, moving closer to bury his nose into his jaw.

"Young Potter has explained to me that you're feeling rather unwell and unfit to conduct further sessions today. You don't have to worry about those authorities, I'll inform them myself. You may contact the students if you want to cancel the class." said Professor Lupin, voice kind and understanding.

"I—uh," he wanted to say something, he really was, but how can he when Potter already had his lips wandering to his necks?

"You sound rather shaky, young Malfoy" Professor Lupin' voice was filled with concern. "You should ask young Potter to send you home."

"I—" Draco blinked, eyes searching for Potter who was mouthing 'You promised' to him in a threatening face and bent down to bite Draco’s ear. He squeaked.

"Young Malfoy, are you okay?"

Oh, well. What harm could it be to cancel one day sessions?

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'll inform the students that I am unfit for tutoring sessions today." said Draco then, closing his eyes as he felt a bit unsettled. He never canceled his sessions before. This was going to be his first. He suddenly felt that someone might come out of nowhere and yell at him for his incompetence.

A drop of kiss under his ear chased his worry away. He peeled his eyes open to see Potter smile reassuringly at him. 'You'll be fine." the other boy mouthed.

"Taking care of your health is a priority. Get well soon, young Malfoy. You have worked hard, I am proud of you."

Draco smiled when he heard those words, "Thank you, Professor. Thank you for being understanding."

They exchanged a few words before bidding each other goodbyes, leaving him to stare at the phone incredulously. He couldn't believe he had just skipped a tutor session. It felt a bit bizarre. Weird.

A warm press of lips against his skin woke him up from his stupor. “Don’t worry, you’re fine.”

“I’ve never done this before.” Confessed Draco.

“It’s okay,” said Potter, humming gently against his skin. “We’ll take our time. We don’t have to do anything today.”

“What are you talking about?” Asked Draco breathily, involuntarily tilting his head to the side. His heart somehow felt like they were going to jump out of his body. His skin felt hot.

“What are you talking about?” Countered Potter, lips wandered down to his collarbone.

“I’m talking about cancelling my sessions.”

“Ah,” chuckled Potter. “Here I thought you were talking about something else.”

“Something else?” Draco took all his might to push Potter away, trying to search for the other boy’s eyes. Holy, they looked like deep forest. Potter gazed down at him with soft eyes, the corner of his lips titled up forming a small smile.

“Never mind that,” said Potter, pulling him closer. “Can I touch you?”

“You already are, Potter.”

Potter laughed, dropping his head onto Draco’s shoulder. “I guess I’m content touching you like this for now.”

Draco blinked, slightly confused. “How exactly do you want to touch me?”

“You don’t have to know for now.” Said Potter, lifting his head up and stared down at him with a soft expression. “I am glad that you have never let anyone touch you like this.”

“I’ll have you know, Potter,” said Draco, not understanding the meaning behind Potter’s words. However, he decided to humour him. Feeling suddenly brave, he lifted both of his hands to wrap them around Potter’s shoulder. “You should feel lucky that I have permitted you to put your hands on me.”

Potter beamed, which turned into mischief as he suddenly said, “Hold me tight, and try not to fall.”

“Try not—ah!” shrieked Draco, grasping for Potter’s shoulder as the other boy crouched down to lift him up by his thighs. “What are you doing, you brute!”

“Put your legs around me.”

“Excuse me—”

“I’m going to move now.”

He shrieked again when he felt Potter moved, and he immediately held on for his dear life as he quickly wrapped his legs around Potter’s waist, hands gripping the muscled shoulder tightly. “Careful, you dolt! I’m going to fall!”

He took a chance to tug on the boy’s horrendous hair when Potter only laughed delightfully, and sniggered when Potter grunt in pain. He yelped when Potter took revenge by slapping his arse.

“I’m going to put you down now.”

Draco wanted to ask, put me down where? But his body suddenly collided with the soft mattress, and he gasped when Potter climbed in, manoeuvring his person until they laid at the centre of the huge bed, with Potter settling himself in between his legs.

Draco blinked, slightly confused by the situation.

“What are we doing?”

Potter, the imbecile, only hummed, busying himself by trying to find a comfortable position to settle down. His hands sneaked around his body, his head laying on top of his chest, eyes closed. “We’re resting.”

“You’re squishing me.”

“I like it like this.”

“This is a very bizarre way to have a rest, Potter.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Draco frowned, taking his time to answer. He did not, in fact, feel uncomfortable. The weight of Potter’s body on top of his felt grounding, somehow. There was something about having the heavy weight crushing down his person. He never felt something like before, as if having something to anchor him down, making him feel relaxed. It wasn’t helping that Potter smelt nice too.

“Draco?”

“No- I’m, I’m comfortable.”

“I’m glad, let’s take a nap. You need them.”

Draco, against all odds, felt his eyes go heavy and who was he to deny a nap?

Draco was dreaming.

There were hands—calloused hands, caressing the skin underneath his shirt, making him feel goosebumps all over his sensitive body. There were hot breaths, kissing his neck with mischief and there was something wet touching the skin beneath his earlobe.

It made his breath turn heavy.

Draco sighed, and felt his body were making a response.

There was something soft, tickling his jaw and his chin, and he could feel the hands wander up to his nipples—his sensitive nipples. He had never been touched like this before, and he was somehow aware that he was making some sort of sound.

“Hm, you smell so good. You respond to me very well, Draco.”

He gasped when he felt a jolt of pleasure on his lower region, calloused fingers caressing his nipples playfully and he immediately opened his eyes.

He was not dreaming.

Potter’s mop of hair was the first thing he saw, and the breeze of air licking his body noting that his shirt had ridden up to his chest. He couldn’t help the heavy sigh that was escaping his mouth, and stared with wide eyes as Potter’s head lowered down, facing down his chest and when the pink wet muscle fell flat onto one of his nipples, he shrieked in panic.

“Potter!”

He took a huge grasp of Potter’s hair and tugged it away from his person, ignoring the way that the boy screamed in pain, and lifted his leg to kick the boy away until he fell on the bed with a loud thud.

“How dare you!” Shouted Draco, scrambling on his knees and promptly yanked down his shirt.

He heard Potter groan, and he immediately glared at him when he emerged from the floor.

“Draco, you wound me!”

“You molested me in my sleep!”

“I was not!” Said Potter, lips incredulously turned into a huge pout. “I was dreaming!”

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” warned Draco, eyes blazing. “How dare you put your mouth on me!” His hand unconsciously went to rub one on his nipples, the one that Potter had personally molested with his stupid tongue. It still felt sensitive under his touch.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Huffed Potter, crossing his arms in a sulky manner. “I couldn’t help it!”

“You couldn’t help it?”

“I mean, have you seen yourself?” Countered Potter, throwing him an accused look. As if it was his fault!

“How dare you! Without my consent no less!”

Potter perked up at that. “You would give me your consent if I asked?”

Draco growled. Angry, he stomped down the bed, reaching out to Potter who was watching him with an alarmed face. Potter had the audacity to scramble back, crawling backwards to be away from Draco.

Draco jumped to him, kneeing Potter’s stomach in the process making the boy howled in pain. Draco ignored those cries coming from Potter, as he proceeded to grab him by the shoulder and sink his teeth down Potter’s right shoulder and bite. Hard.

“Argh!”

He felt Potter’s hand on his shoulder, trying to pry him away but Draco held his ground.

“Draco, it hurts! Let me go!”

They struggled like that; one biting, while the other one trying his best to make him stop. Potter cries echoed around the room, tapping Draco’s shoulder repeatedly in surrender.

Draco let go after biting his heart out, and sat back, watching with pure satisfaction as Potter curled around his shoulder, whimpering like a wounded puppy.

“Next time, Potter,” began Draco. “It would be polite to ask for someone’s consent.”

“Ugh,” sobbed Potter. “I hate you.”

Draco smacked him where it hurts.

—

Cheers! @textrovert-01 @teenage-chaos @kristinapoldmaa @eaasysarcasm @pandaburr024 @irwinxbmth

#harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #draco x harry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #harry x draco #harry/draco #drarry squad #drarry fluff #teenromance #high school au #muggle!au #hp fanfic #gay fanfiction #drarry love

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snickerdoodlles · 7 years ago

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nor look be lost

Phichit and Yuuri are lit nerds with a love for poetry that burns bright and deep. They attend lectures and poetry workshops with an enthusiasm that sweeps everyone off their feet, ringing laughter and shining eyes. Their favorite activity is poetry telephone, stifling their giggles as old latin poems gain Batman and heavy language becomes “ask thou booty ask thou fault.” They record all their favorites in a beat up notebook, doodle-coated cover and pen stained pages barely clinging onto the wire spiral, and never fail to bring it with them to their favorite cafe’s poetry nights.

Scattered among their many recreations of famous verse are also fortune cookie poems, created through the piles of fortune cookie slips they collect just for this. One of these is a bizarre fluke of a poem that’s almost profound and Phichit smirks at Yuuri, mischief twinkling in his eyes, and says, “betcha wouldn’t read this on stage”

Yuuri reads it on stage three minutes later

Amidst his audience, Viktor gasps as this beautiful soft boy with a shy smile and laughter in his eyes comes to the mike and recites the most ridiculous poem. But, as odd as it may be, Viktor is moved

(“Chris,” he says desperately, clutching his best friends shirt. “ChRIS.” “Yes Viktor?” Chris says smiling, eyebrows raised. Viktor fans himself. “I’m gay.” “You’ve always been gay” “I’m gayER”)

So Viktor, feeling gay and excited and absolutely terrified, approaches mr. Beautiful Poet at the end of the night. He’s run no less than twenty of the most romantic and moving poems he could think of off the top of his head by Chris, only to veto them immediately because nothing could grasp this feeling in his chest right. He ends up settling for a verse of his favorite romance poem, one he’s had memorized since he was twelve like the sap he is, to tell to Beautiful Poet and hopefully impress or sweep Beautiful Poet off his feet (he’s not picky which). Viktor approaches Beautiful Poet with his sweaty hands behind his back and heat in his cheeks and

completely messes up his favorite verse in his favorite poem he’s memorized since he was twelve

(“FUCK” thinks Viktor eloquently)

“eXcUSe mE?!” thinks Yuuri angrily. This gorgeous prick Did Not just mess up a poem by W.H. Auden, aka Yuuri’s favorite poet, much less one of Yuuri’s favorite poems. The fuck does Gorgeous Prick think he is? Is Gorgeous Prick making fun of Yuuri and his fortune cookie poem? Because that’s just Rude, this is ART

(“FUUUUCK” continues Viktor’s internal screaming, because he doesn’t want Beautiful Poet glaring at him but also he’s still gorgeous and Viktor can’t handle anything)

In his head, Yuuri rips Viktor to shreds about Respecting Art, What The Fuck Asshole in 0.2 seconds with the most amazing and skillfully crafted argument. Physically Yuuri glares at Viktor for a full minute, completely missing Viktor melting into a helpless gay mess underneath his stare, before he turns away with an offended huff and walks out with Phichit

(“What a prick,” Yuuri rants angrily to a sympathetic Phichit

“Im a MESS” wails Viktor into a laughing Chris’s shoulder)

The next week, both are back, eyes sharp as they scan the crowd for each other for entirely different reasons. Their eyes meet and a flurry of activity ensues;

Yuuri, thinking Gorgeous Prick is back to make fun of people, flips through his notebook for one that makes fun of people with no respect for the arts. Or at least piss off someone with Gorgeous Prick’s pretentiousness

Viktor spends the next hour gathering his courage to approach Beautiful Poet. “How is he even this beautiful” whispers-hisses Viktor. “How can i apologize when I’m basking in such beauty?!” “you’re hopeless,” retorts Chris unhelpfully, phone out and recording for posterity

Viktor finally manages to shake his nerves shortly before Yuuri plans on going on stage. “Hi,” he says shyly with a smile.

Yuuri glares with the fervor of a spurned lover

“Ah,” he says sheepishly. “I’m um, really sorry about last week. I’m. Uh. Really bad at remembering things. Even things by my favorite poet. I had actually wanted to thank you for your poem from last week, I loved it”

(“Fuck,” thinks Yuuri, feeling vaguely like the world had disappeared from beneath him. Pretty AND sweet AND likes poetry? f u c k)

“That was a poem made out of fortune cookies,” says Yuuri bluntly, distantly wishing he could swallow his foot so it could shut him up. “I’m not good at writing poetry”

“Wow! Amazing!”

(Viktor’s eyes are literally sparkling. “FUCK” thinks Yuuri louder)

“You delivered what should’ve been nonsensical babbling and made it into a work of art” says Viktor, as though he’s actually enchanted. Yuuri would tell him being so nice to make up for last weeks blunder is unnecessary but his hearts currently stuck in his throat.

“Are you reading one of your favorite poems tonight?” asks Viktor, staring deeply into Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri doesn’t recall nodding, but Viktor clasps his hands and beams at him. “Wow! Amazing! I can’t wait to hear it!”

“Uh,” says Yuuri finally. Before he can manage the next bit, Phichit swoops in, smiling sweetly.

“Yuuri, it’s your turn!” Phichit turns his sugar sweet smile on Viktor. “Listen closely to my son. You’re going to love his”

Right, thinks Yuuri. Phichit doesn’t know Gorgeous Prick is actually Sweet and Lovely. Nor can he actually hear Yuuri mentally screaming at him to not. They really need to work on their ability to read each other’s minds for these sorts of situations. By the time Yuuri’s finished thinking this, he’s under the spotlight with absolutely no words in his head and a book of nonsense in his hands and all he can think is how badly this will surely end. He sputters and flips through his notebook frantically for a new poem and picks the first one that doesn’t have fortune cookie dust nor Batman in it

This is a Mistake

Yuuri is distantly aware he’s reciting what is the cheesiest Love Poem. (Literally. There are no less than six cheese puns.)

(There’s little of Yuuri that’s not left cracked. He can feel his soul leaking out through the crevices. He doesn’t even want to know what Sweet and Lovely thinks of him now. Hopefully the world will swallow him before he must face Sweet and Lovely again. If. He doubts Sweet and Lovely can even look at him after this)

(“cHRiS” whisper-hisses Viktor, wrinkling Chris’s favorite button down beneath white knuckles. He hasn’t blinked once since Yuuri took the stage. “chris” whimpers Viktor, slumping onto Chris’s shoulder. “He likes cheesy romance poetry. Chris.” Chris holds back his snort and his pats Viktor’s thinning hair.)

Yuuri finishes and scrambles off stage, making a bee-line for the bathroom or the bar, he’s not sure which. Then he hears Sweet and Lovely’s voice through the mike

He turns and sees Sweet and Lovely holding the mike in one hand and holding back a grumpy but fond redhead with the other. And then, while staring him right in the eye, Sweet and Lovely recites........literally the sappiest love poem to Yuuri

(“I can’t believe you were able to do that with a straight face,” says Yuuri fondly, years later. “Nothing about me is straight,” says Viktor immediately. Yuuri gives him a flat look. “Scratch that. I can’t believe you recited the lines in the right order” “YUURIIIIIII”)

And so begins the tale of Yuuri and Viktor simultaneously wooing each other via Bad Poems. It becomes an official poetry night tradition. Or at least, Viktor tries to make it official, but the rest of the crowd is so sick of their shit they threaten to kick them both out if they ever read a bad poem again, upon which Yuuri asks Viktor if he’d like to recite Awful Poems to each other over coffee so smoothly that Viktor is halfway through “of course” before he realizes they’re going on a Date

After Viktor finishes swooning, poetry nights gain its first actual official tradition of “take a shot every time Viktor or Yuuri recite a poem about how much they love each other” (they all end up smashed)

#yuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #viktuuri #victuuri #??#cookie's writing #bad poetry au #hey xylo #stealing ur thing where i name a fic after a line in a wh auden poem lmao #i know you said you weren't planning on it but feel free to add if you wanna !!#okay wow im tired #its 1:30 am for when i scheduled this #whoops

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gwynnew · 7 years ago

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'Lady Bird' and 'Three Billboards' star Lucas Hedges on 'magical unicorn' Saoirse Ronan and his faux rivalry with Timothée Chalamet

Lucas Hedges, right, with Saoirse Ronan in Lady Bird. (Photo: A24/courtesy Everett Collection)

In Greta Gerwig’s coming-of-age film Lady Bird, Lucas Hedges performs a jubilant number from Into the Woods, dances in a rose garden with Saoirse Ronan, and collapses into giggles while microwaving late-night snacks with his friends. Anyone who saw Hedges’s Oscar-nominated performance as a grieving son in 2016’s Manchester by the Sea will recognize this as a dramatic shift in tone — which is just what the 21-year-old actor was looking for, he told Yahoo Entertainment. Hedges plays Danny, a Catholic high school senior in Sacramento in 2002, who becomes the first boyfriend — and first heartbreak — of the title character, played by Ronan. It’s one of two memorable minor roles Hedges took on in 2017, the other being Frances McDormand’s son in the darkly comic crime film Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Neither part is big enough to merit the awards-season attention Hedges received last year, but he’s fine with that. Instead, he’s enjoying the experience of watching his friend (and Lady Bird co-star) Timothée Chalamet garner the same kind of buzz for his performance in Call Me by Your Name. When Yahoo spoke with Hedges in late November, Chalamet had just won the Gotham Award for Breaththrough Actor, the category in which Hedges was nominated in 2016. The thoughtful and humble Hedges talked to Yahoo Entertainment about making Lady Bird, compared the acting styles of Ronan (“a unicorn”) and McDormand (“iconic”), and shared the personal hazards of living through awards season (“I started losing track of reality”).

Yahoo Entertainment: Thanks for taking the time to talk to me! I was just watching Timothée Chalamet’s Gotham Awards speech— Lucas Hedges: Oh my God! Wait, that’s so funny. I just saw it, too! Isn’t it amazing? [laughs] It’s hilarious. I texted him about it last night and was like, “Dude, that was so funny and amazing and eloquent, and you’re killing it.’”

Well, I was thinking about you, because in an interview with Vulture about your great run of films, you said something like, “I’m not having Timmy Chalamet’s year or anything.” [laughs] I know, I know.

I mean, I wouldn’t put it that way! But do you feel like he’s going through some of the things you went through last year? Oh, to-tally. The joke that I have with Timothée, or the joke that we have together — hopefully I’m not throwing him under a bus right now — is that we’re both so threatened by each other. We’re both like, “Dude, I’m so threatened by you!” “What? I’m so threatened by you!” But we have such a great friendship because I have so much respect and love for everything he does, and I’ve just come to really love him as a friend and as an artist. But as far as I’m concerned, he’s having an even crazier year than I did. He just won a Gotham Award for the category that I was nominated in, and he’s on the cover of all these weird magazines. I mean, he’s becoming like, this crazy icon. [laughs] And I can’t say that that happened to me.

You’re the face of Dior. I feel like you’re underselling yourself a little bit. Oh, OK. I have a history of doing that to myself so you may be right. But I feel like I’m grateful that he’s going through this because it makes me feel less alone.

Lucas Hedges at the National Board of Review Awards 2017 in New York. (Photo: Kristin Callahan/Everett Collection)

I always wonder about how people process these experiences of fame. You can’t Google “how to handle losing an Oscar,” “how to handle winning an Oscar;” even “what do I bring to the Oscars?” Do you feel like you need to warn Timothée about anything or prepare him for anything? You know, there’s a part of me that wants to be like: Meditate every day. Do yoga. Really get clear with who you are. But I can’t tell him that because that’s not what I did, and I really just think he should live it, and do whatever he wants to do. And what I mean by that is not “go crazy,” but just, you’re a good person, and do whatever feels natural to you in these moments. If you want to go out and celebrate, go celebrate. You deserve to celebrate! And he is 21, so he [can] have a drink; don’t lose control. And if you do feel like you’re on the verge of losing control, then start meditating [laughs] and take care of yourself. But I do think it’s a time to actually celebrate.

And if there ever comes a day that I go through that again — I just think it’s kind of hard, and I started losing track of reality. When most of your conversations are interviews and you’re thinking about, just how everything you do is perceived, then how every word that comes out of your mouth is filtered through an interview lens — it gets complicated and confusing. And it sort of becomes plastic. So I guess maybe I have advice for him? But I feel like I’m in the same position as him still. I have no idea what I’m doing, still.

I talked to Greta a couple weeks ago about how she created the environment on set, and how she conveyed the idea of what it was like to be a teenager before everyone had cellphones and fast internet. How did you wrap your head around that idea? I know she makes you put away your phones. For the two years before this year, I had a flip phone. I was living with a flip phone when I got offered the part, just because I was on my iPhone way too much. I’ve also gone entire periods of my life without having a phone, so it’s hard to imagine a world without it, but I know what it’s like to live without it. Oh, but then again it’s the time before flip phones — even a flip phone is futuristic! [laughs] But I also feel like that’s kind of insignificant when it comes down to playing the part… It’s not about the fact that I don’t have a phone, it’s about, what do I want as a human being? Ultimately the movie could take place at any time, anywhere.

One of the themes in the film is Lady Bird wanting more than her parents gave her. When I was growing up in the suburbs, I was in awe of kids like you, who have glamorous artsy parents and live in the city. So was that idea something that you could connect to at all? [laughs] It’s so interesting because I grew up in Brooklyn, my dad’s a filmmaker. My parents aren’t celebrities or anything, but I grew up with the life that someone who didn’t live in New York City, who’s an artist and wants to be an actor, would long for. And I spent my entire childhood longing for, of course, another life. I just wanted to live in England and have English parents. So it’s weird how we always find the thing that we don’t have. It’s sort of the obvious cliché, the grass is always greener thing. But yeah, part of the reason why I wanted to be an actor in movies is so I could escape the world that I grew up in — not because it was uninhabitable or dangerous, it was a very safe place, but because there’s always somewhere more magical. And I’m only now beginning to love where I’m from, weirdly, and only now am I getting really grateful for the parents that I have. But I’m always sort of trying to find my way out of what I was born into, which is just weird. Like even now — like you said, I did get nominated for an Academy Award, but there’s still a part of me that’s like, “Well I’m not having Timothée Chalamet’s year!” [laughs]

J. Cole did this great song called “Love Yourz”, which is just an amazing song about how you’re never going to be happy until can you figure out how to love the life that you have. And he really, he has some great lyrics — you should listen to it. It’s a really beautiful song. I can hear it in my head right now.

There’s a lightness in your performance in this film that’s really lovely to see. There are light moments in Manchester, but having been introduced to you through that, it’s nice to see you, for example, juggling French fries. [laughs] Oh yeah, that’s funny! Have you seen the movie more than once? Because that happens in the blink of an eye. Yeah, that was one of the reasons why I really — well, one, I got to have a love storyline with Saoirse Ronan, who’s just the most amazing actress, and that was one of the things that really drew me to doing the movie to begin with. But also, it is very light and it is very fun, particularly the musical theater aspect to it, which I wanted to do so badly. And I’m not a singer, but I love the idea of singing, and just committing yourself whole-heartedly to something. And giving yourself over to it even if it is really stupid — like even if you’re part of a stupid high school theater production, there’s something amazing and so earnest about giving yourself over to that, which I really wanted to do.

Lucas Hedges with Saoirse Ronan in Lady Bird. (Photo: A24/courtesy Everett Collection)

I imagine the set being like a giant high school cast party. It truly was. I was saying in an interview earlier today that I’d go over to Beanie’s house and we’d watch The Bachelor and The Bachelorette. It just felt like summer camp. It was essentially the summer in Los Angeles a year ago, and I had never really lived in L.A. before, and it just felt like a new realm of experiences and excitement and fun. And, god, I’d give anything to do it all over again.

Both times I saw the film, my immediate reaction when it ended was to think, No, keep going! I hear that they’re doing a Call Me by Your Name sequel, so they should do a Lady Bird sequel. [laughs]

I’m going to ask you a difficult question that I’m not sure anyone else could answer: How does the experience of doing a scene with Saoirse Ronan compare to doing a scene with Frances McDormand? Interesting! (Deep breath) Well you know, it’s so bizarre, because ultimately — I mean, I’m still so new to acting, but it’s like, how do you exist with two different human beings? Like when you meet one person who’s entirely different from another person, it’s not going to be the same; it’s going to be entirely different. It’s the reason why we have some friends and not others, it’s the reason why we marry one person and don’t marry the other. So getting to act with Saoirse was a completely different world from getting to act with Frances, because they’re completely different people at completely different stages of their lives. I mean, Frances in Three Billboards is sort of like this iconic figure who’s broken and is fighting for what she believes in to the point of, she’ll fight till her death. And that’s kind of, I think, true for who Frances is. I think Frances represents a lot of what Mildred represents. And Saoirse is a unicorn. Saoirse is like this majestic creature from a far-off land, and I think that’s true even when she’s playing a girl from California. She is a unicorn even then. The thing that stands out for me of getting to work with Saoirse is her eyes. She just has the most magical eyes, and you can get everything from looking into her eyes. And that’s sort of my experience working with both of them.

Lucas Hedges and Frances McDormand in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. (Photo: Merrick Morton /Fox Searchlight Pictures/ Everett Collection)

Three Billboards is much more emotionally intense in a lot of ways. But it’s also very funny. That was very apparent from the script, is that it was sort of dark and twisted in its humor. It’s also crazy that this movie was written and made way before Trump became president — not that it has anything to do with the president, but the craziest stuff is happening in American and it’s very timely. I have no idea how to really take in any movie that I’ve been in, just because I don’t know how to divorce it from the experience of making it, but I wonder what it’s like for people to see that movie right now.

When you have those intense, emotional scenes — the scene where you’re holding a knife to John Hawkes’s throat in Three Billboards, even the coffee shop scene in Lady Bird — how do you get yourself into that head space? I’m still learning how to get into the head space of those scenes. But music is really big for me; music can get me lost in a world very easily and bring me back to a time in my life that’s similar to the one I’m exploring in the scene. And also just energizing my body, really moving around and getting my breath going and activating my solar plexus. It’s a lot of sort of boring actor-y things that help me a lot. I lean on music most of all though.