I’m sleep blogging
If Danzie are “sad”
What the bollocks does that make Westith..
Millie stared at the dress in front of her with an expression somewhere between horror and fear. Behind her, Cherry was waiting for her to speak with that smug sort of smile that women wear when they know they’ve got a friend cornered.
“I have to wear that?” Millie forced herself to ask, catching her friend’s eye in the mirror and glaring at her.
Cherry’s responding smile was sickly sweet. “It’s my wedding, Mils, besides you said you’d wear whatever I picked as long as it didn’t have frills.”
If today had been anything other than Cherry’s wedding, Millie would have been very tempted to refuse. However, these things only happened once and Amelia Carlton was not going to let her own colour preferences become an issue on such a big day. “You’re lucky I love you.” She muttered, slipping the dress on. The fact it fit perfectly made her think Jessie or Mary had had a say in this too. “Go on, put yours on so I can do my bridesmaid job of zipping it up. Mary and Jessie banned me from doing anything else.”
Cherry couldn’t help but laugh at the disgruntled expression on her friend’s face. She knew most of Millie’s protests were merely because of principle. When they’d sat up late discussing the wedding, Millie had been just as excited as the other girls in her own way. Holding her hair out of the way, she laughed again as Millie very deliberately and slowly did up the back of the dress, making a big deal out of her one job. “I don’t think anyone has ever zipped a dress better than you just did.” Cherry teased, letting her hair drop again and turning around to show the dress to Millie.
“If you were any more beautiful, I’d marry you myself.” The brunette declared with a grin, picking up her camera and taking a photograph before Cherry could protest. As she hurried the bride out of the dressing room, it might even have been possible to see a slight tear in the maid of honour’s eye.
SHE DOESN’T NEED TO WEAR PINK. Leave that to Mary or Jessie. Pick a neutral color.
Omg no I’m making her wear pink though
I enjoy the hooting. :D AND SHE GAVE HIM A NICKNAME. Whoo.
Millie is very partial to nicknames
Yes. 25.media.tumblr.com/f4e… I think this is similar to the color scheme carly and I were thinking, so between nudeish, peach, light pink or so.
Millie’s face right now.
Really.
Just really.
Dan is an arsehole.
merry getting ready before grayity’s wedding or millie giving gray a “so you’re marrying my cherry” kind of talk
I’ll do Merry getting ready. Is Mils in a pretty dress?
Hogwarts was a strange place, of this Millie was already absolutely certain. The information she’d been given by Professor McGonagall before term started had included a list of lessons, a brief history of the school and a guide to the Houses, but no where had it mentioned ghosts, poltergeists, moving pictures or disobedient staircases (she’d told at least three to stop moving during her first week and one was yet to obey her).
However, of all of the strange classes she’d been introduced to so far, Charms was currently her favourite. The only subject even remotely similar to her muggle education was History of Magic, but the Professor was incredibly dull for a man who was educating them in the violent and BBC mini series worthy battles between goblins and wizards. (That was another thing she missed, TV, what did wizards do all evening in their wizard homes without it?)
Writing a letter home to her mum seemed like the right thing to do, even if the two of them weren’t on the best of terms at the moment. Apparently, she could use the school owls to send letters for her since she didn’t own one. This was how Millie found herself at the top of the Owlery, trying to coax an almost tame looking barn owl off of its perch and to take her letter for her.
“You should try hooting at it.” A voice said from the doorway, its tone incredibly serious considering the suggestion it was making. “The barn owl makes a sort of screech to demand attention.” Turning around, Millie found the voice belonged to a blonde haired boy who looked about her age. Seeing her blank expression, he emitted what was possibly supposed to be a barn owl’s screech, sending half of the owls flying rapidly for the window. Millie covered her head with her arms until the rustling of wings died down, then frowned at the boy.
“That wasn’t very clever.” Millie said with a scowl, brushing feathers off of her robes. “
Then, a beak caught her sleeve and tugged. The barn owl nipped her finger lightly, then took the letter from her hand and flew out the window. When she turned her attention back to the boy, he was stood holding out his hand and smiling. “My name is Xenophilius Lovegood.”
With a low whistle, she put her hand in his and shook firmly, like her dad had taught her too. “I’m going to have to shorten that down, how about Xeno? I’m Millie.”
Something you either really want to see or something you don’t think I’m capable of writing.
if I make it to sunday without a mental breakdown it’ll be a fucking miracle
Classy Meatloaf.
