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Author Topic: Hopeless Crush || Roseweed crush AU  (Read 166 times)

Marilyn-Rose Wilson

    (02/04/2019 at 21:32)
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September 1952

He was there, in the library, he was there!

She’d been studying in the library with her friends, per usual. It was their favourite spot to hang out, in fact, it was the only spot that they could hang out in, since the majority of her friends, were not puffs. But also the best place to study herbology.

The best example of that would have been one of her best friends, Liliana, who was a Gryffindor. In fact, Liliana was the one who’d spotted him first. 

Marilyn had her head hung over her favourite tome in the library, it focused on every herb, magical or not, it’s properties, where you could find it, and it’s appearance. On some pages, some of the hens had been pressed flat, and placed into the book. The writing on the pages was small, tiny even, all of it was handwritten. Although Marilyn always seemed to be reading it, she was still only in the first section. Then again, she did struggle with following the tiny words on the long lines.

Liliana had gained Marilyn’s attention, reminded her of what to say, before the Gryffindor pushed Marilyn towards the boy.

Marilyn had been running through what she was going to say, in her mind, as she walked up to him- to Jeremiah Smallweed. There was just something so inately cool about Jere, the way he walked, talked, and seemed to be casual about life. His accent— oh god his accent— practically made her faint when she heard him in classes.

The set phrase for her was: ‘Hey, I’ve heard there’s a coffee bar in the Kitchens, I’m Marilyn, by the way.’ It was casual, and relaxed, and it (hopefully) would gain his attention. Enough to prove her worthiness to be his wife. Being his wife, that would be great.

Marilyn had run through the scene, many times, with her friends. He’d take her to the kitchens, and instantly fall in love with her. It was completely perfect! Except for one factor, Marilyn was terrible at talking to her crushes- particularly Jere. Though, he wasn’t very new, she’d been stalking him watching him from a distance, for a while, now.

Marilyn noticed that she’d reached him, she looked up at him, into those beautiful eyes, and started to panic. She couldn’t sound casual, what was she thinking?! She felt herself begin to flush, as she continued to look at him, her breathing becoming faster. She couldn’t possibly do this, what was she thinking?!! Asking him out, nope, she couldn’t do it!

“I-I can’t do this.” She said, her voice high pitched, barely being able to get the words out. Turning back to where her and Liliana had previously been sat, only to see her book, and bag being the only things there. She was alone, well, not alone. She was alone with him Marilyn turned back to Jere, her eyes wide, as she tried to say the sentence that she’d prepared. It didn’t go so well, the only word that came out of her mouth, it came out as more of a squeak, “Coffee?”
well, my heart knows me better than i know myself,
so i'm gonna let it do all the talking

Jeremiah Smallweed

    (02/05/2019 at 22:15)
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They had almost run out of snacks, which made it sound like it was both of their faults. Actually, it was mostly Jeremiah's fault, for he had inhaled three boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, a packet of Jelly Slugs, and four Chocolate Frogs in the time it had taken Lecia to pick her way through a packet of Fudge Flies. Still, she was the one who'd gone to get more from her dormitory, for she was the only one of the pair who had more to go and get.

And so, Jeremiah Smallweed waited, three and a half sentences of a Charms essay written, for Lecia Dorset to return and finish dictating the end of the line.

He would have been perfectly happy to sit there alone for as long as it took for her to come back; he had no other plans for his Saturday, and the pair had settled, over the past year or so, into a comfortable routine of sweets and homework -- more of the sweets on his part, more of the homework on hers. Yes, he would have been perfectly happy to sit there alone, only someone else had other ideas.

At first, he didn't notice her. Actually, no, that was a lie. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed her, this tiny blonde speck of a first year (she must have been a first year, for she was relatively unfamiliar, and, more significantly, incredibly small), it was just that he didn't think it worth acknowledging her, even as she stumbled closer, for he was fairly certain that she didn't plan on speaking to him.

Here was where he was wrong.

“I-I can’t do this.”

From the few Bertie Botts that were left in the bottom of his fourth box, Jere glanced up. The little blonde creature was, in fact, speaking to him. Why, exactly, remained unclear for the moment.


...That didn't really give him much more context.

Jeremiah frowned. As blunt as ever, "What?"
« Last Edit: 02/05/2019 at 22:16 by Jeremiah Smallweed »
and watch him grow into a shell of a man
everythin' is takin' shape and goin' to plan
how quickly, though, life can turn around
                   one step forward,
two steps back,
he’s lost in the crowd

Marilyn-Rose Wilson

    (02/06/2019 at 22:56)
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He was looking at her, Jeremiah Joseph Smallweed was actually looking at her- Marilyn-Rose Wilson, aka. the insignificant first year, when he was the all-powerful fourth year. Intelligent, handsome, and not to mention a personality that could make any girl swoon;   the tiny little blonde was elated to even be in the vicinity of such a truly awe-inspiring person. In fact, she was just so in awe that her cheeks turned a delightful shade of tomato red, which was rather unusual, as they usually only went to a flattering baby-pink before stopping.

Unfortunately, that was not the case today. In fact, today, Marilyn couldn't help but feel mortified at the state of her appearance- her hair was not bouncy, or corn coloured, in fact, it looked positively like straw, and her face was the shade of red that her mother associated with the lips of women that weren't to be spoken to, and her uniform looked as though she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards- quite possibly because she quite literally had just been.

He was frowning. Was there something on her face? That would have been horrifying, as if the venture hadn't already been going terribly. She couldn't even get a simple phrase out to him, how on Earth was Jeremiah Smallweed supposed to fall in love with her so drastically that he asked her to marry him as soon as she turned eighteen if she couldn't even say the words 'I do' to him? How were they supposed to have two children named Alexander and Clara? This quite literally the worst, nothing could ever redeem her from this colossal failure.


Did-- Did Jeremiah just... talk to her? The utterly and completely incredible Jeremiah Smallweed had just talked to her, the insignificant speck in the hierarchy at Hogwarts, and yet, he had been compassionate to talk to her. She could practically feel her knees buckling at the thought of it, as the colour of her cheeks somehow darkened.

Instead of responding to the Slytherin, she just stared at him, eyes wide and evidently quite nervous, for an unnerving amount of time. Had she ever been this close to him? She could smell him at this distance, and although she was sure that she smelt of lemons and perfume, he smelt completely different; of fresh pencil shavings-- so cool-- stale clothes-- which was less cool, but still just so very Jere.

Then she realised that she hadn't responded, and the redness became impossibly larger, reaching all the way up to her ears. She had to say something, literally anything, just not to seem weird. Something casual, something cool, something that would make up for this terrible introduction. The prepared speech, she just had to repeat it. The only problem? Her vocal chords had seemingly closed up and left her with only a squeak.

“I- er… I- um… I was… umm.” She stumbled out, fidgetting with the bows in her hair as she did so, "Coffee?"

The repeat of the word was most definitely an octave higher than last time, as the blonde looked nervously at him, and then realised what she'd said, or rather, had not just said.

"I just...Would you... Jeremiah... Coffee with me?" Her voice trailed off quite a bit during the question so that it was incomprehensible, and then picked up again. Hopefully, this time, the message would come through
well, my heart knows me better than i know myself,
so i'm gonna let it do all the talking

Jeremiah Smallweed

    (02/12/2019 at 16:27)
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There was an uncomfortable moment of silence that dragged ten times longer than it really needed to. And during this never-ending expanse of time, the girl did nothing but stare at him, wide-eyed and blushing, as if he'd just said something incredibly inappropriate instead of his slightly rude, but otherwise harmless, what.

Uncomfortable, Jeremiah shifted in his seat. He wanted nothing more than to look away an to go back to not writing his Charms essay, but it was impossible to wrench his gaze from hers when she was so utterly fixated on him.

Where the hell was Lecia? Surely it didn't take that long to get to Gryffindor Tower and back? How long was he going to have to sit here under this first year's gaze before she came to his rescue?

The silence continued.

It wasn't Lecia, in the end, who broke it, but the girl herself (whose ears had turned an almost alarming shade of red), with a series of incoherent squeaks that gradually -- very gradually -- revealed themselves to be some sort of invitation:

"Coffee with me?"

Jeremiah Smallweed stared.

It wasn't that he didn't understand. He did understand, on a the most basic level, what she was trying to say, which was a marked improvement in the way their conversation (if that was even what it could be called) had been going up until this point. He did understand, but that still didn't mean he understood why.


Realisation hit him then, and it hit him hard. This kid, this literal eleven year old, was trying to ask him out. Him. Out. Like, on a date.

Bloody hell.

Perhaps he should have been flattered. He was mostly just thrown.

"--I'm good," he said, shaking his head. "Coffee, uh, ain't really my thing."
I've been dreamin' 'bout us
workin' hard and savin' it up
we'll go and see the man on the moon
my girl, we've got nothin' to lose

Marilyn-Rose Wilson

    (06/18/2019 at 21:57)
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She could feel his gaze upon her, that wonderful gaze of his from those stunning brown eyes that looked like warm coffee first thing in the morning, though unlike the coffee-- which would normally wake her up and make her super happy and chipper and bouncy and really excited because things were really super duper exciting and very fun-- his eyes were making her droop, like a really wilty flower in a bed that had died of old age. His gaze was so awesome, and it was on her. She did not even remotely deserve him looking at her, and yet he was staring at her.

Staring. At. Her.

In fact, if she died now it'd probably have been the bestest moment of her life ever, she'd die happy with a smile and a blush on her face because he was just oh so cool and handsome and edgy and such a bad boy and he was really pretty. What if he said yes? What if they were going to be married and have hundreds of millions of kids and they'd be pretty but also cool and edgy and smart because Jeremiah Smallweed was most definitely smart and a lot better at magic than her. But they would never get married if she couldn't even manage three words out to him without sounding like a little squeaky rabbit-- though they were cute, boys, she knew, did not like cute, they wanted pretty, rabbits were not pretty-- but if he agreed to the coffee date and then they'd kiss and it'd be like a happily ever after forever and ever and ever and especially since unicorns existed in the wizarding world. Actual unicorns!

She didn't even notice the pause, instead her mind focused on his words-- expression hopeful, even through the redness.

"Coffee, uh, ain't really my thing."

"oh." The word fell out like a deflated balloon, as tears began to fill her eyes. Of course he didn't want to date her, he was too cool for her, and cool boys did not date little rabbits. No, they went for the pretty, smart, cool girls like Carrie. Well, if he decided to marry Carrie then she'd be happy for them, or at least try to be...
well, my heart knows me better than i know myself,
so i'm gonna let it do all the talking

Jeremiah Smallweed

    (08/22/2019 at 22:18)
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He had assumed that that would be the end of it. That she would get the hint, walk away, and go and hassle someone else for coffee -- Fellwater, maybe, who would probably jump at the opportunity to spend an hour having a girl stare adoringly at him from across the table.

She did get the hint, if her crestfallen expression was anything to go by, but she didn't walk away to go and hassle someone else; not Fellwater, and not any of the other boys in his year either. Instead, Jeremiah watched in horror as her eyes began to well with tears.

To say that Jeremiah Joseph Smallweed had a strong aversion to tears was to put it mildly; in his experience, tears usually meant that he had done something wrong and that there was very little he could do to fix it. Tears usually meant that a girl -- typically one of his sisters -- hadn't gotten her way and was therefore resorting to the last weapon in her arsenal. Tears tended to work at getting a person to their ideal outcome. It was for this reason that he hated them; he didn't stand a chance against tears, and he knew there was little point in trying.

"Don't, um."

Jere winced, "Don't cry about it, alright? It ain't you, I just--I really don't like coffee, y'know, and..." He didn't think he was making it much better. If anything, it looked like he was making it worse. With something close to panic streaking through his tone, for he was terrified she was going to start sobbing then and there in the middle of what was supposed to be a silent study area, "Look, I--"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop and ask himself what the hell he thought he was doing, "I like tea. Or hot chocolate. If you want, we can, uh..."

--get that instead, went unspoken as he came to his senses and realised that this wasn't a commitment he wanted to make. But it was too late to take the rest of it back now.
« Last Edit: 08/22/2019 at 22:18 by Jeremiah Smallweed »
'cause my baby, she's a real peach
even when the night come crashin' down
real peach, and the nighttime rolls away, alright
and we're comin' back to the demon-killin' work of love