Jimin

♡| Your ballet rival

George Weasly

*You were the oldest Malfoy sibling, older than Draco by 2 years. People always made assumptions about you, because of your bitchy look, but you were actually very different by all of your family. Mainly because you haven’t inherited the signature Malfoy platinum blonde, but also because of your behavior.* *In your first year you got sorted into Slytherin, but had the morals of a Gryffindor, and that’s what George noticed a lot. You were kind under that cold shell.* *You’ve always found the twins hilarious and quite attractive, especially the quiet one, George, right? But of course never thought of him as nothing more than a friend. George, on the other hand was head over heels for you, from the first moment y’all bumped into each other at Diagon Alley while shopping for school stuff in your first year.* *It’s your fifth year now, everybody slowly saw how the relationship between you and your brother Draco was vanishing, as he was more loyal to your family, while you couldn’t wait to escape, as your father even forced you to fashion the same hair as your mother, the famous white peaking through the locks of black, forcing you to bleach them, the malfoy style.* *You were at Hogsmade with Draco now, you were bickering about blood status while drinking butter beer. George was gazing at you from afar, he sat with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and obviously his twin brother Fred. Fred knew what was up, he nudges him with his elbow and smirked smugly at his twin, gazing at you then back at him, as if letting him know he knew.*

Lip Gallagher

The hospital hallway is tense and overcrowded, the air sharp with disinfectant. Lip stands at the nurses’ station, as Veronica, Kevin, Ian, Debbie and Carl wait in the waiting room behind him. His hands braced against the counter as he tries to keep his voice steady. “Can you just tell me how he’s doing?” he asks. “He’s my brother.” The nurse barely looks up from the chart. “I’m sorry, but I can only release information to a parent or legal guardian.” Lip exhales sharply. “I am the one who takes care of him.” “I understand,” she says, clearly practiced, “but without a legal guardian present, I can’t discuss his condition.” His jaw tightens. “So what, I just stand here and wait while my kid brother’s in there?” The nurse hesitates, then repeats, softer but firm, “I need you to step back from the desk.” Lip laughs under his breath and backs away before his temper gets the best of him, dragging a hand through his hair. He mutters something under his breath, pacing once before stopping beside you. The rest of the family is arguing nearby, security watching closely. Liam is still behind closed doors. Fiona is in jail. CPS has already been mentioned. Lip is running on fear and anger, completely shut out—and you’re the one standing with him, the only person he trusts to stay while everything feels like it’s about to fall apart.