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updownlately · 11 months

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everything feels right (since you came along)

| ingrid engen x reader | fluff | 6.2k | inspo: fallin' all in you by shawn mendes and golden by harry styles | a/n: this one's been in the works for nearly a month now...definitely challenged me but we got there in the end. thanks for the req! hope this is to your liking! Idk if managed to capture ingrid's personality or not but i can at least say i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~~~

You loved challenges. Or at least that’s what you told yourself, convinced yourself was the truth. You took pride in tackling difficulties in your life, facing any and each issue head on. So when you showed up to the training grounds of the FC Barcelona team, you didn’t really understand why you were so nervous.

Wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts, you contemplated why you had accepted the offer. Here you were, six thousand miles away from your childhood home and one thousand away from your second home, alone, in a country you had visited less than a handful of times, on a mission to prove yourself. You hadn’t really didn’t thought this through, had you?

Mentally kicking yourself for doubting yourself and then for being so socially awkward, you shook your head. You had this. You didn’t become a top class midfielder by doubting yourself. You hadn’t put in all this effort only to question if you deserved this opportunity.

Shaking your head, you pushed the negative thoughts of your mind, rolling your shoulders in a successful attempt to gain some confidence before finally grabbing your bag from beside you and stepping out of your car.

Mentally hyping yourself up, you had just barely shut your car door before an unfamiliar voice reached your ears, the smile on the speaker’s face nearly audible.

“Hi! You’re the new signing right?”

Turning your head around, it took everything in you for you to hide your shock (and awe) at who stood in front of you.

“I- uhm, yeah- I mean yes, yes I’m the new signing.” Stammering, you willed yourself to act at least somewhat collected.

“Well I’m glad we get to finally play with you and not against you, speedy. If I remember correctly, you and Leah had given us enough of a tough time the last time we played you.” Thankfully, the teasing tone didn’t go over your head, a smile appearing on your face at the friendly nature of the other midfielder. She began to walk past you, looking over her shoulder and slowing down, silently beckoning you to join her.

Taking long strides, you quickly caught up to her, falling in step beside her as you both crossed the parking lot.

“To be fair, your guys’ attacks weren’t any easier to stop by any means. Especially those of the sneaky number 11. Seemed like she had magnets on her feet and the ball with how fluidly she moved across the pitch,” you smiled back, the nerves in your body lessening slightly.

“I like you…you’re going to fit in well.” There was a smile on the taller girl’s face, a fond shake of her head further supporting her belief.

“I hope so,” you whispered. Unfortunately for you, your voice came out more panicked than you intended, the nervousness clear from the way it slightly shook.

Stopping in her tracks, the blonde turned towards you and put a hand on your shoulder, your footfall also pausing.

“Hey…listen to me, you didn’t just walk into here demanding a spot on the team. You earned it. And don’t be nervous about the girls either, they’re all really nice, I promise. Just relax, be yourself, vale?”

You nodded in response, inhaling deeply to try and calm yourself.

“They’re all really excited to meet you, ever since you were announced. Mapi’s actually already been talking about how you and her could master breaking multiple defences with your speed and her passing.”

You grin this time, warmth spreading in your body at the fact that the girls were already accepting you into the team. Letting Alexia lead the way, you followed her as she led you through the halls.

It was a a few short minutes later that the two of you were standing outside the locker rooms, loud yelling and laughter audible even through the thick walls and shut door.

“Excuse them, they can be a little hyper sometimes…” Alexia stated, head shaking fondly as she opened the door and ushered you in.

Entering the room however, the whole immediately quietened, almost as someone took a remote to the room and hit pause.

You were met with over a dozen smiles, a handful of the girls waving at you as you looked around the area.

Nervousness taking over your body again, you bashfully smiled back, raising your hand and giving a timid wave.

Almost as if she was sensing your nervousness, Alexia stepped up from where she was behind you and addressed the team.

“As you all are aware, we have a new teammate joining us today, I know you all will be welcoming but still, do your best to make her comfortable and please don’t be weird around her, at least for today.”

Shooting you a soft smile, Alexia headed towards her own locker, wordlessly gesturing for you to do the same.

Glancing around, noting the only open locker being beside number 23, you hesitantly made your way over. Standing a mere few feet away from her, you waited as she looked up from tying her laces. You had met Ingrid a few times before, it came with being friends with Frida. Your interactions with the other midfielder were limited, yet, unbeknown to the Norwegian, you’d always been mesmerised by her confidence and beauty, admiring the way she so easily glided between teammates and fans.

Nodding in question when you met eyes with her, you raised your eyebrows, silently asking about the locker beside her. The taller girl answered in the same manner, shuffling over, shooting you a gentle smile, one that you returned with ease.

Settling down beside her, you murmured a small hello, too shy for anything else. Caught up in unpacking your kit bag, you failed to notice the admiring gaze that Ingrid sent your way.

Deciding to take initiative, the Norwegian spoke.

“Glad to have you here. It’s going to be fun playing Frida now, at least I can be the one bragging to her about our fantastic mid-line.” Head snapping up from where it was buried in your bag, in the midst of looking for a hair tie, you tried and failed to hide your surprise.

“I- uh, huh?” You squeaked. Disbelief rolled through you. Not only did the Barcelona girls just accept you into the squad without the least bit of doubt, Ingrid, class midfielder Ingrid, pro at reading attacking plays Ingrid was complimenting you right now. You couldn’t tell if life was real right now.

Stopping your internal fan-girling, you spoke again. “I mean, you guys have an amazing mid-line, an amazing team all-around really. I don’t think I can improve perfection.”

“Considering I nearly hated playing against Arsenal last season, I’d beg to differ.” The dark-haired girl shot you a cheeky smile, unknowingly melting your heart.

“Fine, fine. Just know I’m just as excited to be here. And if it counts for anything, games against you guys were some of the hardest.”

“Team of champions right? More so now that you’re here.” You couldn’t tell if the other girl was trying to turn you to mush or make you feel comfortable, but whatever she was doing, you didn’t want her to stop.

You could only respond with a smile and a “hopefully”, your heart beating too fast at her compliments to string any other words together.

The two of you silently finished getting ready, your hair still loose. Following the rest of the girls out together however, you both at the back, you were failing miserably at putting your hair in a bun, it too short to stay without something holding it in place.

Noticing your struggle, Ingrid took her spare elastic off her wrist and handed it to you. “You know you could just ask one of us? And definitely me?”

A sheepish smile on your face, you took the hair tie. “I do now.”

And as you walk out together, Ingrid asking if you’d like to partner up for the day, you couldn’t help but feel even more relaxed, the homey and welcoming nature of the club (and of course of the brunette beside you) bringing you a sense of calmness.

~~~

It seemed like nervousness was becoming a common theme for you here in Spain. You were currently sat in the team bus, waiting as the rest of the team filed in. A pre-season game saw you all travelling out to Buñol to play a friendly against Levante. It wasn’t the fact that it was a pre-season that had you so worked up however. Just before leaving, Jonaton had pulled you aside, quietly informing you that you would be starting, news that came as a shock to you.

Since joining the team a slight over a month ago, you had barely played as a sub, much less as a starter, still trying to get a feel for where you fit in and the high on-field intensity of the team, so the decision had you dumbfounded. You assumed it was so that the coaching staff could figure out where to play you and how to best utilise you without the stress of it being an important game, but unfortunately for you, the once low-stress game had now become the main root of your anxiousness.

Headphones blasting, you noted as the doors to the bus finally closed, the last few stragglers taking a seat. It was then that the seat next to you was finally filled, your new bus-buddy appearing with her signature smile shining.

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face, overriding your inner turmoil, the taller girl’s smile infectious.

“This seat taken?”

“Ingrid,” you shook your head in amusement, “do we really need to do this every time?”

The girl in front of you shot you a teasing wink before sitting down, a playful ‘yes’ escaping her lips.

The first day that the team had to travel, you had apprehensively boarded the vehicle, unsure of who you would sit beside, very much aware that there was a system to this, regardless of what team you were on. You had anxiously looked around, slowly stepping further down the walk way until you had made eye contact with Ingrid, her waving a hand to beckon you over.

Walking up to her, you had asked her the exact same question as seconds ago, and the Norwegian had just fondly shook her head, tilting it to the side. “I saved it for you.”

Your head had ducked down in embarrassment, endearment causing a slight blush to coat your cheeks, before you had taken a seat beside the brunette, her passing you one of her earbuds before relaxing into her own seat.

Since that day, it had become a sort of ritual between you two. You had only had a few bus rides since but each one consisted of either of you reaching the bus, sometimes together, and claiming a set of seats in the middle. When the other would eventually join, headphones would be shared or connected, the both of you more than excited to share your love of music, bonding over your versatility in styles.

So, as per tradition, Ingrid sat down beside you and you passed her your phone, letting her set up the shared airplay for herself.

Your thoughts being drowned out by the music humming through your earbuds, you let your head rest against the window, your leg bouncing fervently, partially in beat to the music but also due to your unease. Really, your whole body was thrumming, nervous energy almost palpable by the girl beside you.

You weren’t sure how long passed, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the chatter of the team fading to mere background noise. All you were aware was that between the handful of genres and songs the both of you had queued up, at least seven had passed, your nervousness not lessening like you had hoped it would.

Turns out, it wasn’t just you that was keeping track of your kangaroo leg. Ingrid was nearly losing her mind seeing you bounce up and down. The blurry motion of your limb just barely managing on, seeming as if it would fly off if it hadn’t been attached to your torso. She wondered why you were so hyper. It was only a friendly game after all.

Taking a deep breath in, she reached out to you, placing a gentle hand on your thigh, just above your knee.

The touch snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at the Norwegian, a wry smile on your face, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Your leg. It keeps bouncing. What’s the reason?”

Eyes widening, you contemplated telling Ingrid about what Jonaton told you. He didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone right?

“Uhm- Jonaton just told me a little while ago that I’m starting. I think he wanted to give me the bus ride as time to prepare, but if anything, I think it just made me more anxious.” You let go of the breath you were holding, your chest easing just by telling the girl beside you.

“That’s good! Right?”

“I think so? I’m just worried I’m not gonna play well y’know? Even though it is just a friendly…”

“I think you’ll play great, really. Just pretend that it’s one of our practices and that we need to kick Patri’s butt so she doesn’t get too big-headed,” the brunette joked, hoping to get a laugh out of you.

It was a successful attempt, a slight smile appearing on your face.

Shoulder’s relaxing, you took a deep breath in, Ingrid’s relaxed demeanour bringing you a sense of calmness.

It didn’t last long however, your heartbeat reaching its earlier speeds as you realised that the dark-haired girl hadn’t moved her hand yet. You quickly peeked at where it was resting on your thigh, sneaking a glance at Ingrid as well. It seemed that the Norwegian hadn’t noticed where her hand was placed, and you didn’t want to bring it to her attention, too afraid she’d take the grounding touch away.

A small smile on your face, heart racing for all the right reasons, you let yourself get comfortable in your seat, eyes closing, revelling in the touch and ground presence of your person.

~~~

“Your cheeks are a bit too red for a team photo…everything okay?” You knew the taller girl meant it out of concern but you couldn’t help but flush more at her statement, finding the concern etched on her face endearing.

“I- yeah, no I’m okay?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” This time Ingrid turned to face you, taking the time to really check in with you while the photographer was still busy directing the rest of the team where to stand.

You could feel your face heating up now, starting to fan yourself to make it die down just enough that you wouldn’t look like a tomato in the photos.

“I’m okay. Sorry this is nerve-wracking.”

“It’s okay. It’s very easy. I promise. All you need to do is smile and look good, and you are already really pretty, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Ingrid’s words brought another wave of heat to your face, you now ducking your head down in order to avoid anyone seeing you so red.

Laughing at your reaction to her statement, the Norwegian smiled, proud of herself for eliciting this response. Choosing to put you out of your misery, the older draped an arm around you, leading you to where she was supposed to stand, photographer’s positioning be damned. Her arm resting on your shoulder, she pulled you in beside her, shooting anyone who tried to question your new position a glare.

You knew she meant well, but with her arm around your waist, Ingrid had just increased the already bright blush on your face by tenfold, resulting in you nearly looking like you’d been poorly sunburnt. Just with the knowledge that she chose to comfort you, chose to wrap an arm around your waist where no one else could see but you and her, your smile became electric, shining brighter, true happiness reaching your eyes.

~~~

Your first game with the team had been a success, if you were to say yourself. You hadn’t got much playing time, only being subbed in for the last twenty or so minutes, but with the team already up 3-0, the lack of pressure to play well allowed you to focus on connecting with your team. Sure, practices had given you the opportunity to learn how to fit in on the field, but mid-game? That’s where the real test was. And you were pretty sure you passed it, most, if not all, of your passes connecting, no fouls or cards your way, and you almost assisting a goal if it hadn’t been deflected last minute by the keeper. All in all, you were happy.

The team could tell, having witnessed your restless form on the bench throughout the first and second half, and in the locker rooms during half-time, where you chose to stand, shifting from foot to foot until Ingrid had pulled you down to sit beside her, the sides of your bodies flush together in order to fit on the cramped bench.

So seeing you now, chasing Ingrid and Aitana after they had dumped their water bottles on you, your own in your hand spraying reckless behind them, was a refreshing sight. Even Lucy, someone you had been lucky enough to play with on the Man City team, hadn’t seen you this relaxed post-game ever. If you asked her, she’d tell you that she was glad you fit in well with the youngsters on the team, and especially with the Norwegian you had dubbed ‘your extrovert’. The sunshine personality of the tall girl had brought out a more care-free you, evident by the way you were being piggybacked around the sidelines by a now-drenched Ingrid as Aitana trailed beside you both, the three of you interacting with fans.

By the time you all had made it into the change rooms, there was a content smile on all of your faces, you leaning into Ingrid as she quietly ushered you to change, the both of you whispering and laughing, unaware of all the fond smiles directed at you.

Yeah, if Lucy had anything to say, she kept quiet, adoring the sight in front of her, glad you weren’t putting too much pressure on yourself like you normally would. Mentally making a note to thank the Norwegian another day, she turned back to her kitbag, hearing your shared giggles fill the space near her.

~~~

“So what you’re basically telling me is that you’re addicted to coffee?”

You were currently out in the streets of Barcelona, the taller girl having nearly dragged you out after practice so she could show you her favourite cafes around the city.

“No. I just love the way it energises me and I know what good coffee tastes like.” “Meaning you’re dependent on coffee to get you through the day and you’ve tried enough coffee to be able to identify the imperceptible difference between good and bad brews?”

“Alright, now you’re just spinning my words.”

You merely shrugged in response, a teasing smile on your lips. “I’m not doing anything.” “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, yet here you are spending time with me?”

“I’m not answering that.”

You stopped in your tracks forcing Ingrid to stop too since your hands were intertwined.

Turning back to face you, she cocked her head to the side.

“Okay, what now?”

“I win.” “Oh my god, you’re insufferable. Listen, I’ll make you a deal…if you can tone down the annoyingness to zero, I’ll get you an extra pastry.”

“Tempting. You do love my annoyingness though...”

Rolling her eyes, Ingrid couldn’t stop her smile. “Sadly I do love it.” I might just love you.

“You have a deal. A pastry sounds heavenly right now.” Leading the way, you tugged on the brunette’s arm, the eagerness in your step at the promise of food taking her heart away and putting it in your hands.

~~~

“Why do you do this to yourself? And by choice?”

“Because it’s fun, and trust me, Alexia said the view at the end of this one is great!”

The two of you were currently up at half past five am, on a hike recommended to you by the two-time golden boot winner. You had somehow managed to drag Ingrid to do it with you, promising her a picnic and that you’d buy the coffee for the next week. (You didn’t know it, but Ingrid would’ve done it with or without the promise of coffee or food, happy to just be in your presence).

So here you were, about 1 third of the way done through the one and a half hour hike, the taller girl trailing behind you, questioning just why it was you of all people she had to fall for, silently of course.

The sun was set to rise at just slightly past seven, giving the two of you plenty of time to set up the breakfast picnic that you were currently carrying in your backpack. Though, you’d have to make it up there, and at the rate that the usually excitable and energetic Norwegian was gruffing at, you weren’t sure if a completion was in the cards today.

Calling out behind you, you thought it would be worth a shot to bribe the midfielder even further.

“If we make it to the top before….,” you checked your watch calculating the time, “fifteen before seven, we can have a movie night tonight, and I’ll let you pick whatever stupid horror movie you probably want to watch. How’s that for some motivation?”

Turning around to face the brunette, you waited for a response, her having stilled in her movement at the offer.

“Two movies, I get to pick both, and it’s at my place so that we can make a pillow fort.”

You were just about to agree to her terms, well-aware that she was as much of a child when it came to day to day activities as you were when the other girl beat you to it.

“Oh, and I get to pick the takeout,” you were met with a smug look, Ingrid confident that she was going to be the clear winner in this bargain, knowing how excited you were to do this hike.

“Ingrid…”

“I don’t mind turning back around?”

“You’re so stubborn, you’re lucky I’m the one who suggested this…” You couldn’t believe the cheekiness of the girl in front of you, laughing to yourself and shaking your head.

“Deal you dork. Now c’mon, we have a hike to finish and a time to beat.” Reaching your hand out, you let her take it, intertwining your fingers and pulling her in beside you, hands swinging in the limited space between your bodies.

Of all the people you could’ve taken a liking to here in Barcelona, in Spain, hell, the whole world, of course you had to choose the human golden retriever beside you. The one that was so perfectly stubborn, so energetic, and your anxiety-reducing, lovable, ray of sunshine here in the city. If you didn’t know any better, you’d spend the next few minutes of whatever minimal darkness there was in the sky looking for a shooting star, hoping you could have her in your life forever, preferably with a different title if the universe was feeling particularly kind.

~~~

“You do realise you can just ask her out right?”

Caro’s whispering brought Ingrid out of her trance. The two of them were sat in Alexia’s living room, the team deciding to hold a movie night under the pretence of a bonding session.

The midfielder had been staring at you, at your curled up body on the floor leaning what looked to be uncomfortable against the front of the couch. You had your legs pulled up to your chest, arms crossed above and head resting on the back of your folded hands. There was no way that could be comfortable and Ingrid knew it, longing to be able to just tuck you into her side, let you rest as she held you through your nap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ingrid shot back, voice a murmur, careful not to draw the attention of the other girls in the room.

“So the puppy dog eyes, always partnering up with her, sitting beside her, sharing your music with her, coffee dates and all have just been because you’re friends? Ingrid…she might be blind but we aren’t. I’m not.” Caro leaned away from Ingrid, not extremely worried about the other girls hearing her. They all knew, could see the heart eyes you two had for each other. It just seemed that while the both of you communicated extremely well on the pitch, the same excellency did not translate to both of you off the pitch.

Ingrid’s heart raced slightly just at the thought that you might return her feelings. Trying to remain cool though, she dismissed Caro’s (accurate) assumption. “No. We’re just friends. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“So you do like her.” The finality in Caro’s tone has the dark-haired girl frazzled.

“I-no. I never said that.”

“You didn’t deny it…”

“I-no…listen, it’s-“

“Ingrid…just ask her out okay? One of these days, while you both are together, like you two always now seem to be, just ask her out. I don’t think the team could take any more of you both shooting heart eyes at each other when one of you aren’t looking.”

Head hanging down in embarrassment, Ingrid blushed at just how obvious she had been. Really though, she couldn’t blame herself. No one else ever had her smiling like you did. No one else brought butterflies to her stomach even close to what you brought each time you’d walk into the room.

“Are you sure?”

“About you two being obvious? Yes. It’s sickeningly sweet.”

“No, about her liking me back…”

“Oh. Yes.” The tone of finality in Caro’s voice wasn’t lost on the tall girl, her heart racing at the idea of you liking her back.

“Also, please could you get her to a more comfortable position? I rather not see her hunched over from back pain tomorrow…”

Cheeks hurting from just how much she was smiling, Ingrid went to gently shake you out of your slumber, pulling you up to a half-sitting, half-leaning position beside her in the limited space. In your sleep daze, you didn’t realise what was going on, your body focused on going back to sleep, and so you let yourself be pulled up and sat down, cuddling into the warmth beside you, blissfully unaware.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, you eventually waking up to the unabashed teasing of your teammates and the sight of a blush adorably coating your cuddle buddy’s face.

~~~

It was a few weeks later that a team dinner found the both of you sat beside each other, the rest of the team becoming accustomed to you two nearly doing everything as a pair. Even with something as insignificant as photos for social media, you both would always be stood by one another, Ingrid’s arm often slung over your shoulders, your own wrapped around her torso. So really, no one batted an eye when you both simultaneously scooted your chairs closer to each other, bursting out in laughter when you realised your shared action and timing.

And as the dinner went on, the two of you only jumping into the conversation once in a while, more content to be caught up in your own world, in your own little bubble, the team couldn’t help but tease you when you would chime in, exasperated at the fact that neither of you had admitted your feelings for the other. If they had it their way, the pair of you would have been locked in an equipment room together ages ago. Luckily for you however, Alexia had long warned the other girls not to meddle, a soft spot in her heart for the both of you.

Now though, the captain may have just slightly regretted that decision. Witnessing the two of you be so tuned in with each other, likely appearing as a couple to those that didn’t know you, all the blonde wanted to do was let the younger girls put their plan into motion.

“You know, I have a feeling it’d be a lot easier to tolerate you two if you just asked her out.”

Ingrid had just barely stepped away from the table to head to the washroom when Alexia quickly slid into the seat beside you.

“Huh what…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come one, you guys are so lovesick all the time. She shoots you heart eyes when you both get ready for training and you don’t stop smiling when she’s beside you. Honestly the sweetness is making me sick, it’s annoying. Ask her out, make it easier on us.”

Alexia sounded absurd to you. “She doesn’t like me like that.”

“Says who? You both are always touching in some sort of way. She always goes out of her way to stand beside you. And don’t deny how she always practically hugs you in photos.”

“She’s touchy with everyone.”

“Lo dice en serio? When’s the last time she gave anyone her hoodie? She gave it to you right away after you spilled water on your shirt.”

“She would’ve done it for anyone,” you argued. You couldn’t believe Alexia was really talking to you about this. You knew some of the girls like Aitana and Patri had been teasing you two about this but you’d never thought Alexia would join in. And so what if it was true that you did like Ingrid. She just liked you as a friend.

“So you’re telling me she would’ve told anyone that they look good in her clothes?”

Alexia’s words evoked your face to redden, mouth opening and closing a few times, words evading you.

“Listen, it’s not like that.”

Alexia hummed, turning to get up from the seat. “She’s probably coming back soon. You believe whatever you want to believe…”

You pouted at her statement, watching her as she walked across the table back to her seat just in time for the topic of conversation to appear in the vicinity.

Surely she didn’t reciprocate your feelings right? You would have been able to tell. If anything you both just got on really well and she appreciated that…right?

~~~

“You’ve been quiet. It’s not normal.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned to look at Ingrid.

The two of you were currently walking down the streets of Barcelona, the dinner having wrapped up only a short while ago. You both had (after a lot of back-and-forth) agreed that you’d walk the taller girl home, you joking that precious cargo should always be escorted.

“Just thinking…”

“About?”

“….stuff?” You answered, the statement more a question than a solid response.

“Well that doesn’t sound concerning.” Ingrid looked over at you, eyebrows perked up in question, waiting for you to continue.

Eyes shooting away to look ahead, you willed yourself not to make eye contact, choosing to continue walking.

It was after a couple of minutes of silence that you finally found your bearings and decided to take the chance.

“You think that if, hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would we be good? Like good together? ‘Cause everyone keeps saying it and…” Gaze drifting to see Ingrid’s shocked expression beside you, you quickly backtrack, embarrassment coating your cheeks. “I- uhm, forget that I said anything. It was a stupid question. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

Body slightly stiffening, you forced yourself to pretend like you hadn’t just made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

The pair of you walked quietly for a bit, both lost in your thoughts, too afraid to voice out your want for the other. Letting the hum of electricity from the dim streetlights and warm glow of the stars and moon soften the stifling silence, you let your mind wander into what the potential outcomes could be of this night. You could very well end up in a situation where Ingrid liked you back, yet that seemed so unlikely, too perfect for it to be true. What you were more concerned about at the moment was whether you’d lose a friend, one of the only people that brought you comfort in this new city and club.

Stuck in your musings, you didn’t realise when you were nearly outside Ingrid’s home, The sight of the familiar street nearly breaking you out of your thoughts, yet not distracting you enough. It was then, as you approached the front of her house that the Norwegian’s soft voice pulled you out of your own troubled thoughts of how much of an idiot you were.

As Ingrid stopped in front of the gate, you could feel your heart starting to pound increasingly harder. You really didn’t want to lose her as a friend. You didn’t know what you’d do. You hadn’t met anyone as energetic as her before, her sunshine personality drawing you in, trapping you in a warmth of light that you didn’t want to escape.

You knew you couldn’t fully tell her, but the way your heart would skip a beat when she’d casually drape an arm over your shoulders had you smiling. How she’d drag you throughout the numerous cafes she’s discovered in her time in the city, never failing to make your day. You were absolutely smitten if you were honest, and the thought of her not wanting to be friends after becoming aware of your feelings absolutely broke you.

Noticing your dazed expression, Ingrid grabbed your fingers with hers, the both of you now standing hands held, out in the night, almost like two fools ready to partake in playground activities. Her intent behind her actions however was successful, pulling you out of your thoughts and into the present with her.

Taking a deep sigh in, your eyes now looking up expectantly at her, Ingrid jumped off the cliff she’d been resting on since you joined.

“I’d like to think we’d be pretty good together.” You swallowed hard at her words, eyes growing wide, too afraid to say anything. “You aren’t the only one who’s thought about it…”

This time, it was your turn to be shocked. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Sorry- what?”

She took a deep breath beside you, eyes now barely meeting yours, instead staring past you.

Peeking over at you to assess your reaction, Ingrid let out the breath she was holding.

“I think…and I’m sorry if I make this weird…but I think- no I know I like you, like more than a friend. I think I always have, ever since you shyly sat beside me in the locker rooms that first day.” Sensing she had your attention and that you hadn’t yet nearly lost your mind at her, she continued. “I’ve liked you for a while now, I just didn’t want to make things weird between us…I don’t want to lose you as a friend though. So if you don’t feel the same please just let me know, because I don't know how much longer I can hold back the urge to be with you all the time.”

“You are pretty much with me all the time though, so I don't know what you’re holding back on.” You spoke, hoping your voice didn’t betray the smile on your face. You stood, staring at the ground, kicking at the little pebbles at your feet.

Ingrid looked up at you slowly, an incredulous expression on her face. “Is that all you have to say?”

Meeting her gaze, you revealed the smile that you were hiding. “I think…I think we should go on a date tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Wait- really?” Laughing at the surprise on Ingrid’s face, you stepped in a little closer.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’, a smile bright on your face, even in the dim light. “You and me and the cafe around the corner you like so much…I’ll swing by around nine?”

And as Ingrid eagerly nodded her head vigorously, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around her midsection, a chuckle espying your lips at her enthusiasm, nervous butterflies in your stomach finally, for the first time since you moved here, settling down into a comforting hum full of hope and happiness.

It felt good to be nervous, you liked this kind of nervousness.

Pulling the Norwegian close, a hug full of promises and a ‘see-you-later’, you couldn’t help but believe that maybe this move wasn’t so terrible after all.

(Future you would agree, a handful of years down the line, as you’d inevitably drag Ingrid on another hike, promises of date nights and cuddles a misdirection as you’d finally reach the peak, the brunette seeing the beauty of another sunset before turning to see the sight of you on one knee.)

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #ingrid engen imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #fluff #my writing #fic req #efr #not properly proofread but fuck it im posting #woso #woso one shot

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louisrarepairfest · 2 months

Text

LOUIS RARE PAIR FEST 2024

— Prompts —

[Submit a prompt you'd like to read or write here!]

🫐 The prompt can specify a particular pairing or can use Louis/Character B as the pairing.

🫐 Writers can sign up with one of these prompts or sign up with their own prompt not on this list.

🫐 Prompts will be crossed off as they are chosen during sign ups.

⬇️ Possible prompts below ⬇️

(A) Louis/Character B are uni roommates

(B) Louis/Greg James - Louis takes Clifford to a secluded park and lets him run free for a few hours. A few weeks into going to a park, a friendly dog (Barney) Louis assumes is a stray comes over by him with a stick in his mouth and Louis plays fetch. This becomes a Thing every time. Louis notices Clifford has been gaining weight and can’t figure out why. One day, Clifford doesn’t come back like he usually does. Louis goes looking for him with (Barney) trailing on his heels. He’s just about to give up when (Barney) sprints away and Louis can’t stand the thought of losing two dogs in one day so he runs after him. Cut to…Louis finding a very tall, very handsome man, very excitedly welcoming Barney back with Clifford barely looking up from the almost gone bucket of dog food said very (very) handsome man clearly brought to the park. Confusion ensues since each thinks the other’s dog was a stray. Wild accusations from Louis about Greg making Clifford fat, jokes from Greg about how Barney has taken up finding perfect sticks and running away with his best one. They fall in love and become one big happy family.

( C ) Louis/Character B are musicians vying for the role of band leader at their former high school. They went there at the same time and were rivals then too, though for a totally different reason: they both had secret crushes on one another. When I've of them learns this, it changes everything.

(D) Girl direction! Louis/Character B are star athletes on the college (you choose the) sport team. They're both on the butch side, and it takes them a while to figure out that they're into one another and don't need to femme it up to get the other to like them.

(E) Omegaverse: Alpha Louis has never questioned who he is, a strong Alpha loving Alpha who defies stereotypes. When he meets character B, a beta, he certainly doesn't expect to fall for him (and hard)

(F) Famous Louis returns to his home town for his sister's wedding. When he sees his non-famous ex-boyfriend at the first wedding event of the weekend, sparks fly. Cue a whirlwind romance and a lot of big decisions about what they're both willing to do for love.

(G) Louis is a werewolf who's gotten good at hiding his nature in order to make a quiet life for himself in a small town. Character B is the vampire whose arrival coincides with a couple of murders that threaten his peaceful existence. When it becomes clear that B isn't behind the murders, he and Louis team up to find the real culprit (and maybe accidently fall in love along the way).

(H) Louis/Liam - Bros who get married for insurance purposes and then decide divorce isn’t worth the hassle.

(i) Louis/Charlie Lightening…no plot but sex on the ping pong table. Obviously.

(J) Louis and his bandmates/opening band let off some steam by having a circle jerk. It might turn into more for some of them.

(K) Ever since Character A was a kid they wanted to climb on a fire truck and one day they decide to just walk over to the fire station and ask if they can get on the truck. Character B is one of the firefighters.

(L) M/M Louis and Taylor Swift are rival quarterbacks for their town's 2 high school teams. Nobody knows that they've been secretly dating since sharing a NYE kiss.

(M) Louis/Liam - everyone thinks Louis and Harry are together but it’s actually Louis and Liam

(N) Lilo hot water maintenance au based on this tumblr post

(O) Lilo Robin Hood AU

(P) Lilo Howl’s Moving Castle au

(Q) Louis and either Charlie or Nick from Heartstopper (the Netflixshow), friendship fic. Would love Louis either helping Nick through his sexuality crisis or Louis being there for Charlie through the events of the first season

(R) Omegaverse: Louis is about to turn 25 without having presented. As he debates undergoing the risky process to force a presentation, he meets Character B who helps him realize he doesn't necessarily have to "present" to be the alpha he know he is. (Omegaverse but make it trans and powerful!!)

(S) Bread van fic reimagined with all the guys in Louis' band

(T) Louis plays on the uni football team and Liam is on the athletics team. they pass each other to and from training all the time. cue attraction. they are or become friends and are secretly pining for a while before they eventually start dating

(U) Edwardian era Lilo au where they’re both working class. maybe one is a servant and one is a shop assistant, or both servants.

(V) Louis and David Dawson bond over their time with Harry

(W) Louis/Oscar Isaac- edwardian AU where Oscar is a poet and Louis is his muse

(X) Louis/Pedro Pascal AU where Louis is exploring in the arctic and needs a guide

(Y) Louis/Pedro Pascal Gladiator AU

(Z) Michael B. Jordan as a boxer and nurse Louis

(AA) Louis/Sebastian Stan arranged marriage royalty AU. Louis is betrothed to King Sebastian Stan, a widower with two kids who aren't to keen of the King's fiancé.

(BB) Louis/Sam Claflin - something based on the interview where Sam says Louis follows him on Twitter and that they've had a conversation but he doesn't want to get into it.

(CC) 27 dresses take off where Niall is always the best man, never the husband, and Louis is the snarky reporter.

(DD) Zouiam, uni AU - Zayn meets Liam at the library and falls halfway in love during a single conversation. It’s a fairy tale, only back home is Louis - his FWB, the most important person in Zayn’s life, and someone who doesn’t take well to losing out on attention. Louis' a bit put out when he meets Liam at football practice and this annoying, bossy, fit as all hell guy slides right in under all his defences. It could be the start of a beautiful term of fighting and fucking, only back home is Zayn. Zayn not only needs Louis - he’d become a full-time hermit otherwise - but it’s damn convenient having sex on tap right there in his own flat. And, oh yeah, Zayn’s like, his reflection or his shadow or his other half or something. Liam’s quite confused by having two drop dead gorgeous guys alternately sending him go signals, then just as quickly, stop. He figures if either of them settle on go, he’ll be batting a thousand. Then he realises they know each other. Biblically.

(EE) Louis is an actor in a murder mystery troupe. Character B (maybe Nick Grimshaw...?) is the audience member who’s clearly too cool for all this but giving joining in his best shot anyway. Louis is distracted by him all night, and then after the denouement they meet in the bar.

(FF) Louis/Greg James - Louis won’t stop whanging on about not getting to do the breakfast show with his new album, and character X (maybe Niall, or Oli?) eventually realises it's less career-related jealousy and more about who sits behind the mic. He hatches a matchmaking plan.

(GG) Character A does embarrassing things when interacting with Character B because of their massive crush. Like Character B reaches out to do a fist bump and Character A thinks it's supposed to be a microphone and says hello into their fist.

(HH) Character B joins local amateur dramatics society and suddenly Louis is no longer a shoo-in for every lead role. Cue the drama!

(ii) AU. Preschool teacher Louis / Boxer Sebastian Stan

(JJ) Yellowjackets AU! Girl direction, any pairing from the show, cutting from 1996 to present.

(KK) Louis/Cillian Murphy - 1970s criminal au (preferably with Louis as the criminal), based on this photo: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FvyDkCnWAAk1UwS?format=jpg&name=4096x4096

(LL) Louis/Isaac: Louis and his band Rogue Direction are doing their first tour in their beat-up van at questionable bars across the country. One night, Isaac is hurled into his life, fleeing from an abusive boyfriend in parking lot of the band’s gig. Louis can’t help but feel..protective of the scrappy tagalong who’ll do anything to earn his keep.

(MM) Louis/Isaac: Louis fucks Isaac’s gauged ears.

(NN) Omega Louis / Male Alpha / Female Alpha polyamorous relationship

(OO) Louis/Patrick Dempsey. AU Patrick is Louis’ dad’s best friend. Possible tags: age difference, secret relationship, feminine Louis, hung Patrick

(PP) Louis Tomlinson/Alex Turner AU. Is basically based in the Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino where Louis and Alex are imprisoned together; so they must find a way to escape. But while they try to escape they begin to fall in love with each other however it will be difficult for both of them to escape.

(QQ) Louis and Rob Pattinson are in a secret relationship during the 1d days (around 2014 or 2015) unknown to everyone but then louis gets pregnant.

(RR) Beta Louis with alpha whomever, not established relationship.

(SS) Louis and Michael are secretly dating and navigating the resurgence of the Larry rumor mill. Larry was once real, Louis has insecurities about secretly dating another band mate, and Michael has some insecurities over Harry being Louis ex. Maybe an awkward run in or two with Harry trying to get him back but Michael and Louis being endgame.

(TT) Louis tomlinson/Dev Patel- second chance romance

#prompts #lrpf24 #modpost

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pb-dot · 8 months

Text

Spooktober Sunday Special: The Clockwork Monster Part I

Good Spooky Season everybody. This fine October I'm doing a little something for my followers, mutuals, and anyone else who would like to get a load of the spooky proceedings. As you may be aware, I just finished a draft of my novel The Clockwork Boy, and particularly eager readers may also remember that I've toyed with making a horror AU for the story to try out some new ideas. Friends, today the first part of this AU sees the light of day, with the remaining parts being released on Sundays during October.

Some quick notes: I'm experimenting a bit with form here, so I apologize if some of this gets a bit wacky. As one might expect from an AU this isn't canon to The Clockwork Boy, but I may borrow world-building ideas that I come up with for this one later. Probably won't make 13 quite so... like he is in this one, but well, you never know.

Part 1 below the cut:

05.09.552 From the diary of Jake, Clockmaker Apprentice at Barker Automatics. Recovered after the incident.

Another dull gray day filled with moderately gainful employment. Mr Barker showed me how to disassemble a gear walker actuator today, and I got the chance to inspect some gears in the process. Not the most interesting thing, but considering how often the damn things break, at least there’s a living to be made in repair if I can stand the tedium of it.

After his brief bout of pedagogy, Barker set me to oversee the Apprentices. As usual, they’re a rude unruly lot, at least to me. I’m decently sure one or two are gunning for my position as Journeyman, but they’d have to kill me to get me away from this place before I deliver my Masterwork to certification. Some of them are likely to try, but I calm myself with the knowledge that there’d certainly be a fight, and one I'm likely to win at that.

As usual when I’m left herding Novices, it was dark by the time I could close up shop, and I hadn’t even gotten to work on my clockwork limb project. I was disappointed, but not enough to give my wards grief over it. Tomorrow will be a better day I'm sure. On my way home, a strange fright came over me, but I am sure it was merely the stress from dealing with the greenhorns.

06.09.552 From the diary of Jake, Clockmaker Apprentice at Barker Automatics. Recovered after the incident. Try as I might, I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me. I have no idea who it’d be. The novices wouldn’t mind catching me slipping up I’m sure, but I find it hard to imagine any of them have enough energy left after a long day of work to stalk me from the shadows. I know I didn’t back in the day.

To back up a step, the strange fright from last night subsided as I came home, yes, but it didn't go away. Instead, I found myself strangely paranoid as I left for work the following morning. In retrospect, I am reasonably certain I didn't stand out from the crowd, and fairly sure I wasn't followed by a tail of whispers and rumors through the crowd of commuting workers, but at the time it sure felt like it.

The feeling didn’t subside as I went to get some lunch from a corner cart, if anything it expanded. I no longer feared the people around me, which was a mercy I suppose, but the fear had, again, not disappeared. Someone out there was watching me, no, that's not quite it. Watching feels too passive, too neutral in tone. If anything, I'm sure I'm being Observed. Usually, there’s nothing that’ll tear my mind away from the taste of fresh-off-the-grill corncakes with spice paste, but the persistent cold weight of ill intent sure did it.

I’m not too proud to say I all but ran back to the workshop as soon as I had finished my meal. My phantom pursuer did not strike, but neither did its presence fade in any way as I hurried my way through the throngs of sweaty workshoppers and harried couriers. This, I surmised, could mean one of two things. Either, my pursuer is a subtle beast, able to keep pace with me through a crowd, or, more worryingly, he is so phantom as to be immaterial.

As much as this pains me, I’m going to have to go to the Enforcers with my concerns. They’ll probably listen to me because Mr. Baker’s boss is in The Spire, but odds are good they’ll just brutalize some street rat over it and call it a day. Still, getting some eyes and some truncheons on the situation must surely discourage my stalker, whoever they may be.

Tomorrow morning I’ll seek out the Enforcer Liaison Office and submit my concern. Mr. Barker won’t be thrilled about me calling in his clout to deal with this, but I figure he owes me for all the overtime I've been doing.

10.09.552? Recovered from Site A after the Incident. I have no idea what date it is. He keeps me somewhere underground. No daylight.

No idea if he'll notice me hiding this document under my blanket, but I have to risk it. I have to believe I’ll make it out of here, but even if I don’t, I have to make sure someone, anyone knows. He’s incredible. Terrible? Yes, but incredible.

My time draws short. He will be here soon. More tomorrow, if the fates will.

Tag List @ettawritesnstudies @mrbexwrites @teacupsandstarlight @anonymousfoz @wrenofthewords @sm-writes-chaos @dyrewrites @owlsandwich @olive-riggzey @athenswrites

If you want to be put on the Tag List for this project, please interact with my Tag List Post

#writing #hearts in clockwork #the clockwork boy #Spooktober Special #Horror AU

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limmastyles · 2 years

Note

For those who keep asking why Harry is still participating in this stunt remember that it’s not only hairy who’s getting paid in this. His team is also involved in this as well. Harry has took the stand and spend it to promote himself. Any time that they’re saying together we always here either about the album before It came out or something about pleasing. He has made it work for himself because he doesn’t really care for traditional promotion so he needs to do things to get people to pay attention to what he’s doing and he’s taking advantage of the stunt just as much as Olivia is. But also we need to remember that his team is also involved in this so they are all getting paid because of this movie. We all know that Harry is getting a bit of that backend deal But his team is also. And we all know that he’s getting paid a lot either by Olivia’s team or the studio. He could end it whenever he wants but he’s not gonna get the track. Once the movie comes out or once the time for the stunt is over and the contract ends he doesn’t have to do anything anymore. He is securing himself a check. We need to remember that hairy lost a lot of money in 2020. Most artist these days do not get paid for their music they get paid because of tours, brand deals, and their own personal businesses. Rihanna had a net worth of just over $200 million before she started Fenty and now she’s a billionaire because of that company. Because of the fact that the tour was cancelled in 2020 harry signed on to do these movies not because he really wanted to do them because he was going to get paid a lot. And when the stunt came along he looked at it as an opportunity for him to make back a lot of the money that he lost. We also need to remember that Harry was paying his tour staff and everyone that worked for him on that tour out of his own pocket. So he needed something that was going to make him back wall of the money that he lost. Which is why he’s now doing stadiums. So the stunt is purely because he’s going to get paid. And it’s something that he can use to promote everything else he has going on. No matter how miserable he seems we need to remember that Harry’s team is very good and you’re never going to let hairy be in a situation where he gets the short end of the stick. We think that Olivia is benefitting off of this but Harry’s benefitting so much more because we know he’s getting paid more than her. Yeah Olivia has the deal but Harry also has the money that he was paid to do this movie plus the way he’s usingthe stunt to promote everything but also he’s getting a piece of that deal as well. Harries not dumb nor are the people that work for him are they dumb either. They are very smart and they are playing the long game in the situation. He keeps his head down, he’s out with her in public, he does the absolute bare minimum because he knows that he made back all of the money that he lost in 2020+ more and this movie does nothing but add to a credit to his IMDb page and gained a lot of connections. Not because of Olivia though because she lost all her connections after Jason.

I LOVE YOU!

#fauxlivia #holivia #holivia is fake #holivia stunt #pr stunt #pr relationships #holivia pr stunt #publicitystunt #olivia wilde #publicity stunt

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the-aussie-fangirl · 2 years

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My “Maruaders Era” Remus Lupin Headcanons

(a/n: Hi! So I haven’t posted anything on here in literal years but recently I’ve began regressing back to my 2019 Marauder’s era phase and I have been seeing a lot of Remus Lupin headcanons on my socials and I wanted to have my say haha. I have thought about this a lot and I’ve landed on a combination of headcanons that I’ve seen online and that come from my own head but I��ve also tried really hard to make it fit in with the adult Remus that we see in Harry Potter so that he feels accurate to his canon self if that makes sense. So if anyone even bothers reading all of this, enjoy.)

- So contrary to some people’s opinions, I genuinely believe young Remus was a sweetheart.

- But this doesn’t mean I think he was perfect or never did anything wrong. I truely think he was a flawed character with a lot of deepseeded self worth issues and mental illness. I think there’s a lot more depth behind his personality and behaviour than many “soft Remus” stans give him credit for.

- But nonetheless, I feel like he always tried to be a kind person and never purposely tried to start conflict with others.

- Like, he never actively bullied Snape but he never stopped his friend’s from doing it either.

- I feel like he was extremely insecure within himself and this manifested as him being quite shy and reserved.

- I firmly believe this man has social anxiety and it takes a while for him to open up to people.

- But once he does he’s actually really funny and has a very blunt and sarcastic sense of humour.

- I also see him as extremely polite and respectful to everyone.

- This is part of the reason teachers like him so much.

- He’s by far the most mature and level headed of the group.

- He likes to think things through but at the same time is a HUGE overthinker.

- He gets caught in his head a lot and worries about EVERYTHING but luckily his friends are always there when he begins to spiral.

- He gains a lot of confidence through being part of the marauders as he finally feels like he belongs somewhere.

- Despite this, he still often worries about being a burden to people, especially his friends (which they obviously assure him he’s not).

- He’s the best listener and advice giver. If you are upset and need someone to talk to, he’s always there. Even if you don’t want to talk and just need someone to keep you company, he’ll sit there right beside you for as long as you need.

- I feel like due to all his stress and injuries, he often gets sick, especially leading up to the full moon.

- Because of this, in Winter he’s always bundled up in lots of layers of winter clothes with his scarf wrapped up high enough that just his little red nose is peaking out over the top.

- You know this man is hella tall but has the worst posture of all time.

- He’s always hunched over which makes him look much shorter than he is but in reality he’s like 6′3.

- Many people see him as the “Cassinova of Gryffindor Tower,” however, I feel like his insecurities don’t allow for this. Instead, I see him as the kind of person not to even be able to tell if someone liked him. And if someone asked him out, he’d just assume it was to hang out as friends.

- He’s the mastermind behind all of the Marauder’s pranks but not becuse he enjoys the act of pranking per say but because he enjoys how much James and Sirius enjoy it and he likes to feel needed and like he’s part of the group.

- Despite being a man of few words he’s actually really well spoken when he wants to be and everything he does say is usually either quite witty or profound and wise (he’s such a smart bean).

- This also helps occasionally in getting himself and the other Marauder’s out of trouble. He knows what to say to the teachers and is sometimes able to talk his way out of trouble.

- I stand by the theory that this man loved chocolate. I really see him as having a sweet tooth.

- I also think that chocolate is his comfort food and makes him feel just a little bit better after the trauma of the full moon.

- He will always help out the younger students if they need it. From things like homework, to helping them find their class. It makes him feel good about himself, like he’s doing something good despite his condition.

- This is probably why he loved being a prefect and definitely why he chose to become a teacher.

- I feel like he has a lot of anxiety and PTSD from being a werewolf and sometimes the common room is just to loud overwhelming for him so hides away in the quiet of the library.

- This is honestly how he and Lily probably became friends. I can imagine them running into each other in the library on a weekend night when they both needed to get away from the chaos of the common room.

- It probably just started with them studying together in silence but eventually they began talking and it developed into a friendship.

- He’s pretty calm and level headed most of the time but that’s for sure because he just bottles up all of his emotions as he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or make a scene.

- However, in saying this, he’s easily irritated, especially in the lead up to the full moon and sometimes during these periods it’ll build up and he’ll snap at the other Marauder’s and storm away when they’re getting on his nerves.

- They understand though. They know it’s all part of the full moon phase he goes through.

- Athough he always seems quite stoic and mature, he’s actually very sensitive deep down but doesn’t often show it except to those he really really trusts.

- I imagine he would’ve opened up a lot to Lily about his insecurities.

- He’s also fiercly loyal towards the people who are important to him, however, he’s more subtle in his reactions most of the time than James or Sirius.

- He’s a bit of a scatterbrain and is often caught up in his own world.

- He ALWAYS has his nose in a book and often finds himself getting caught up and being late to classes and meals because of this.

- I also imagine him to always be wearing odd socks, solely because of the fact that he was running late to get ready and didn’t have time to find a pair.

- I also feel like his space is full of clutter and he’s always losing stuff in the mess.

- He also has extremely messy handwriting and he writes really fast to make sure he gets down everything he thinks of.

- For some reason I just feel like he’s always warm.

- Like this man is a human heater, he just radiates heat.

- He’s not particularly affectionate, especially compared to his friends who are always hugging and wrestling touching each other in some way. But when he does occasionally give you a hug, they are the biggest, warmest nicest hugs that you’ll ever encounter.

- I also feel like he’s a really heavy sleeper. Maybe just from the sheer stress of his life and his condition. Remus Lupin is just always tired.

- Overall, he’s an introverted, insecure bean who just wants to help people and who is always willing to offer some advice or some chocolate. He’s extremely kind and also extremely anxious but he’ll always be there for someone who needs him.

(a/n: So there you have it. This is how I imagine Marauders Era Remus to be. Let me know if you want any other headcanons for any of the other characters because making this was really fun. Have a good day, and thanks for coming to my TED talk.)

#remus lupin #remus loves chocolate #remus lupin headcanon #the marauders #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #harry potter #hogwarts #remus lupin is the loml #young remus lupin #maruaders era #remus lupin is a soft boi

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essayofthoughts · 1 year

Note

🦋🕯️💌 for the emoji ask game!

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

Not really insecure about anything these days? I've posted a truly absurd amount of fic and my previous fandoms include Harry Potter (TERF author can go rot) and MCU (... character roundabouts abound and the tonky stans refuse to admit it) so ... fandoms don't scare me much, I'm liberal with the block and delete buttons and I'm pretty confident in my own writing ability and general standing as a fanfic author.

I think the only thing I tend to worry about is my tags? I always either miss something, or tag something in a slightly weird way there's probably something better for. If you ever notice a fic of mine that could do with either tag pruning or an additional tag - please do let me know. I once managed to forget to add Whump to a fics tags and only remembered when a commenter mentioned it, I promise, I will not be mad.

🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you’re not a social person/experience social anxiety?

See, I am Bad At People. I had very few friends going up and whether or not I have any neurodivergency (unknown, not unlikely, Dad almost definitely is, but I also have trauma from bullying and a shitty ex to complicate matters) I don't always socialise so good. I tend to observe social interactions and write them well, but outside of my close friends I get very antsy about interacting with new people.

This is why, generally, I stay in my own lane on tumblr; I'll post my metas and analysis here or in response to asks and only occasionally add them to other posts - and then posts by either people I know or, for whatever reason, feel comfortable enough to add to. I used to be a lot more fighty but frankly that intersects with my social shit badly and I am trying to keep to things which spark joy, even if people being wrong on the internet regularly makes me want to fight them.

Anyway. Comments are also easy because like - an awful lot of people don't respond to your comments? And it's a massive load off my anxious back to know I can just leave a comment and probably won't get any response. And then, if there is a response, it's often delightful because I wasn't expecting it and it's to a comment I probably put way too much thought into which means there's often something fun to discuss. Likewise - I love when people comment on my work with clearly thought out considerations and I know, from my own experiences, that many don't expect a reply and it'll be a nice surprise for them.

And, like I said - I'm trying to keep to things which spark joy. Spreading that joy in fandom is one such. World sucks enough - lets not add to it.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

So uh.

I reblogged a meta from @exhaustedwerewolf a lil while back and it's because of that meta that Kash is now eating my brain apparently? I have gained a new blorbo. I will be resuming my other WIPs soonish - the intense rush of writing has definitely tapered off some - but uh. Now I have 2(.5) new WIPs, centring on Kash and Zahra.

Oops?

Look I just really like poking at characters and their trauma and Kash and Zahra are both fun and drastically different examples.

Anyway so uh.

From what we hear of Kash's backstory, that boy was raised in a cult? I'm so glad I've listened to the Gangster Capitalism series on Liberty University and read/watched/listened as much as I have to stuff about cults and cult-like entities and abuse within those structures because uh.

Boy has some shit to pick through!

(It's extremely engaging.)

#fic things #writing things #fandom things #renegadessys #ask game #ask

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hunterintheotherworld · 1 year

Text

Tale of a Heavy Heart

You don't seem very happy walking in here. I'll only tell you this once: I'm not interested in telling a tale for uninterested people. And I include afflicted people in that, you see. Sometimes our burdens don't allow us to pay attention to the world around us, and I do want my tales to be listened to.

I see. In that case, I may tell you a tale after all. Sit down, and excuse the couch being cold today. You're the only visitor of the week, so I didn't bother to turn the heater on.

Alright, now we're free to start. You say that you've been seeing a lot of... tired people, correct? It tires you out as well, and that's completely understandable. Empathy is a gift and a curse. But you should always look out after yourself and you know it, because you can't help anyone if you are broken yourself.

A report came in the day before yesterday. Brought in by a friend of mine, a really dependable guy. He said it could come in handy at some point, and I'll admit, I'm a little surprised that it comes up this soon. It contained a series of forensics notes, things I really can't understand much of, besides obvious mentions of injuries and disease.

Among all the technical lingo, abnormally high blood pressure and unusual organ weight stood out to me. Is that a normal thing to note in a dead body? I probably won't be asking anytime soon, but if you're interested, you can always pick up the trail and consult the professionals.

I went to see the body myself. He was likely an athletic man in life with visibly toned muscles. His skin was pale, as expected from a corpse. His long, slightly greasy hair likely would've reached his armpits when standing. Dirty neck and hands indicated some level of lack of care in his life, contrasting with his well kept body build.

What kept stealing my attention in him, though, was the wide, dense mass under his chest skin. The coroner said they had cut it out before, but they had to place it back because "it would bend any surface it was kept on, except the body it came from." It would've sounded ridiculous to anyone else, especially coming from a man of science and facts. But the coroner had already accepted the facts, and that his lack of understanding of the situation was nothing more than the beginning of further research. Science always goes on to people like him.

"Where is his heart?" I asked him. He smiled and pointed at the shapeless blob in the body. "We did all the exams we could do with that thing in his body. It is a human heart" he said.

I took another look at it. The ribcage had given way to the mass by folding backwards to expose it. If the ribs snapped and were pushed back by the mass, the bone would've likely cut some of his chest from the inside. Yet, he didn't have any ruptured blood vessels. There were no blood vessels or nerves on the way at all, really. They had either been pushed above or below the mass, stretching out as if they were rubber bands.

The coroner took a sip of wine on the job. I would've been upset in any other situation, but I want to think he was just trying to process someone else seeing the same things he did, and not getting called crazy. He was probably itching at the thought of reporting everything to the medical college, and gaining awards for the discovery. But also, what he had seen was real, and the reassurance of someone also seeing them was enough to help him deal with it.

I took a scalpel from the shelf and made a slice in what seemed to be the aorta artery, before the coroner could even see what I was doing. A blood spurt jumped out and stained the sterile white floor. While the coroner was yelling at me for what I had done, I simply considered it to be another point in the list of anomalies.

"Doctor Harris, can you tell me why a person who has been dead for two days just bled out into the room?"

His face went almost as pale as the corpse on the table. He already noticed during the autopsy, but had avoided thinking about it beyond planning to mention it to the other medics in the field.

His response was a simple "I think his heart is still working."

While that was intriguing, I pointed out the obvious logical flaw in that theory. The dead man's pale skin showed there was no blood flow going in his body. The incision I had just made in his artery was already healed. And his abomination of a heart stood perfectly still, with no signs of anything remotely similar to a heartbeat.

I asked him to weigh the heart mass again, for me. He refused, saying it would be impossible to order another scale so soon after the last one broke. That told me enough about the heart's weight.

After that, I only had two more questions, one dependant on the other.

First, I asked if the oversized heart was the cause of death. He told me that, from all he could search in the body, the only apparent cause of death was a heart attack. It seemed like a boring answer, despite it sounding odd for such an athletic young man, but it lead to my second question.

Did his heart grow into this when he died, or while he was alive?

He already had the answer to that as well. "He was still alive. His nerves are undamaged. He felt every single thing happening in his chest until the moment he dropped dead."

Then, I decided I had another last thing to try. Something I don't think the coroner thought of. I took the scalpel again and walked up to the corpse's feet, and took a voltage meter from my backpack.

A swift prick in his sole, and the meter, connected to the nerves pushed out by the heart, caught a jolt.

I corrected the coroner.

He feels every single thing happening in his body after the moment he dropped dead.

#short story #short horror story #short fiction #horror #horror stories #horror writing

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mizuki-nikki · 2 months

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the best series from maybe cinamon game : kill your boss ✨

"you must kill him!"

you are a cia agent who has been ordered to infiltrate a criminal organization. in a brutal world where you can trust no one, you must ready to betray anyone, anytime.

...even if it's the person you love.

(spoilers alert. read by your own risk)

personal thoughts:

this is literally the best BL game series that i've ever played.

out of every single story that i’ve ever played in cinamon game, i dare myself to say that kill your boss is the best one so far!

the story is exactly my preference, no plot holes, nervewrecking plot twists and not to mention that this is one crazy love story that i truly like. the story doesnt revolve around love cliches, but more like the mystery that lies underneath the character’s background. such a well-made story!

the story might be a little bit to dark for someone with light preference since there are many sex scenes and weird kink (for a pervert and huge BL lover like me, it was completely okay)

i was kinda torn between noah or logan as my ending route because to be honest, in real life, i prefer someone stable like noah. but, well since this is just a game (and i need something way more tempting), i gotta choose our crazy logan harris! ✌🏻

sooo without further ado, let's do the whole review (this will be a long one)

the story started with a little bit background of the mc's story. our mc is working under logan harris, one of the most potential candidates to continue as the head of the biggest mafia organization, black star. the mc is not a regular subordinate. he is one of logan's most trusted person and one of the highest ranking member in black star

however, our mc had a little secret. he’s a cia agent working to expose logan’s organization. so in short, he was sent to make sure that logan secure the position as the next heir of black star before finally aria, the cia manager and the one who is taking the mc from the street, crushed black star.

long story short, there is one person that stands in logan's way go become the heir, riam zimmer. riam and logan are competitors that wanted to secure the position of black star. as both of them want to secure the position, the fight continued until grayson lee, the current leader, died. all evidence pointed to either logan, riam or our mc.

in the beginning, aria also sent out noah, mc's old cia agent and friend, to become riam zimmer's right hand. as the story goes, all our three boys fell in love with the mc.

the mc had one goal: to assist logan until he become the chairman, and more importantly, to gain his life back as a cia agent. however, things didnt work out according to the plan...

here are some genius story line that i truly like from kill your boss:

1. the fact that logan knows that the mc is a cia agent

logan already knew our mc is a cia agent. but he didnt do anything. he just let him stay by hid side

"when are you going to tell me?"

"how much do you think i know?"

all those questions.. logan knew all the time. logan knew our mc is gonna leave him even tho he stayed by his side for the past 8 years.

biggest plot twist so far.

2. when mc asked himself if he's even a cia agent at this point

although logan loves our mc a lot, he's not.. the easiest person to love. he's crazy, ambitious and cruel. he harrased our mc a lot, up to the point that our mc almost got considered as a prostitute in the organization.

our mc is supposed to pretend. and now after all those years, he has becoming a real thug, he can kill people and he can sleep with guys.. this is not the kind of live that he wants.

thus.. that's why..

"am i even a cia agent..?"

3. how aria is truly a genius. she wants to create a war for riam and logan to kill each other, and set our mc to become the chairman of black star

this makes more sense as noah started to reveal everything.. the reason why aria manipulated both logan and riam. she truly is a leader and an alpha woman. she's cruel indeed.. for the greater good. but still i had to applaud her goal

4. riam used to be a cia agent as well!

i always thought riam is a bit too proper as a mafia. but now i know why. turns out all this time, he used to be a cia agent before the old director cut him off and deleted his record.

now i understand why he seems to want to help our mc. why he said he can give protection to both the mc and hailey

the storyline is just perfect in this story. no plot holes. i love it a lot. even the bad ending and the good ones still left a very memorable spot to your heart.

literally a hidden gem. this game series should definitely got a manhwa or kdrama adaptation ✨

(i will do character analysis for kill your boss in other post when i have time 🥲)

#kill your boss #cinamon game #maybe #maybe interactive game #kill your boss cinamon game #kill your boss maybe interactive game #logan harris #riam zimmer #noah young #aria white

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wellthatwasaletdown · 9 months

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I think it could be PR but from what I’m seeing it’s not. I don’t think Harry is getting a lot of attention dating Taylor if I’m being honest nothing against her. They just seem like they are in a normal relationship. I don’t wanna play the comparison games cause all of his relationships are different and the woman he dates are on different levels of fame as well. Usually under him with a few exceptions but the point still stands. What is Harry gaining fame wise from dating Taylor. Is he becoming more famous then he always was being with her compared to before. Not really, she’s gaining some traction but it’s not overwhelming. She’ll break 1M on instagram probably in the next couple months. I’m not seeing overwhelmed attention on either of them from what I’m seeing. He’s gotten way more attention with his exes.

He’s gaining a black girl on his long list of girlfriends. And yes he needed that.

Why? There are numerous celebrities who have not dated outside their race.

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wondernimbus · 4 years

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two sworn enemies pt. 2 — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: maybe being fancied by draco malfoy isn’t so bad, after all.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

click here to read pt. 1!

"Why is it so bloody cold?"

[Y/N] is decked out in full winter apparel; a knitted Gryffindor sweater, ear-muffs, and a scarf that she has half of her face buried in.

Sitting in the Quidditch stands with the rest of her friends, she grumbles, "It's not even a Gryffindor match. We don't really have to be here freezing to death."

"Well, it's common courtesy," says Hermione, but she's just as cold as [Y/N] is; there's bits of snow stuck in her hair and the tip of her nose is pink.

Ron snorts loudly. “We’re here to watch Slytherin lose," he says matter-of-factly, still in the process of smearing streaks of blue paint across his cheek.

[Y/N] watches him, nose scrunched. "Well, aren't you the Ravenclaw fanatic."

He gives her a grin and holds out the small tub of paint. "Want some?"

She bunches up her lips in thought, then reaches out to take it. Annoyingly enough, Ron pulls back at the last moment, grinning wider than ever, and says, "Or d'you want to show support for your boyfriend Malfoy? Hermione, why don't you turn this green—"

[Y/N] dives over Hermione and Harry to smack Ron round the head, only for the pair to hold her back and push her into her seat.

Exasperated, Hermione huffs, "Honestly, Ronald, will you stop bringing that up?" She glares at him. "You know fully well [Y/N] doesn't like it."

Ron (and Harry, although he isn't as boisterous about it as the redhead), thinks that the "blond ferret" taking a fancying to her is one of, if not the most hilarious thing to have ever happened in history. Annoyingly enough, Ron has made it a habit to tease her about it every chance he gets—this one being one of them.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Ron fancied Malfoy with how much he talks about him," grins Harry. This earns him a smatter of blue paint across his face; Ron had flicked it at him.

With one last eye-roll, [Y/N] tears her gaze away from Ron and digs her nose further into her scarf. It really is very cold; snow is falling from the sky, seeping into her clothes, some landing on her hair and on her face. Thankfully there's not so much of it that the players on the pitch wouldn't be able to see around them, but still—[Y/N] imagines that it'd be a lot colder for them, having to fly around the stadium with the cold wind whipping at their robes.

There’s a buzz of loud chatter hanging in the air as conversations from all around them overlap over one another. The entire stadium is slowly filling up; students trickle into the stands, a majority of which have adorned themselves with blue accessories as a show of support to Ravenclaw. One side of the stands, however, is entirely green. Through the snow, she can see a big serpent-shaped balloon hovering over the Slytherin side.

"They’re coming out!" someone exclaims.

Sure enough, when [Y/N] looks down at the pitch, players from both teams have appeared and congregated at opposite ends of the pitch. Slytherin and Ravenclaw; whichever house wins will play Gryffindor for the house cup. Most bets are on Slytherin, but [Y/N] would have to be dead before she is caught anywhere supporting them.

"Look, it's [Y/N]'s boyfriend," gushes Ron.

More out of habit than anything, [Y/N] shoots the redhead yet another brief, scathing look. Draco Malfoy is there, even though he's nowhere near being her boyfriend, pale face set into a stoic expression of calm as he stands with the rest of his team, one hand on his broom and the other on his hip—and this specific image has her thinking back to what happened two weeks ago on this very same pitch, except the stadium was empty and it was only the two of them on the grounds; when he'd confessed to liking her.

As if Malfoy has somehow heard her thoughts over the noise of excited chatter coming from all over the stands, he looks up, eyes sweeping the seats in search for someone before finally, they land on her.

When he meets her gaze, [Y/N]'s breath isn't knocked out of her chest, nor does she start blushing madly. But she doesn't burn red with annoyance, either. All she does is stare at him, eyes narrowed, watching as his lips split into a wide grin and he raises his hand to wave at her.

She rolls her eyes, but thankfully—thankfully, the scarf tucked around her neck, reaching up to her nose, conceals the smile that tugs at her lips.

"May I ask everyone to please find themselves in their seats before the match begins," McGonagall’s voice echoes around the stadium, giving [Y/N] a reason to break eye contact.

She tears her stare away from Malfoy’s, inhaling a deep breath through her nose, feeling oddly exhilarated.

But this isn't anything new. That slight feeling of breathlessness, that unfamiliar sensation tickling at her stomach whenever she spots a certain someone in the hallway; she's been feeling it a lot lately, and though the cause seems to be pretty obvious, that is another thing she'd have to be caught dead before doing: admitting that she reciprocates some of Malfoy’s.. peculiar feelings.

"And they're off!" Dean Thomas announces. [Y/N] watches as the players soar high into the air until they're mostly level with the stands, a blur of blue and green robes rapidly zooming around the pitch. Slytherin is already in possession of the quaffle; not a surprise, considering Ravenclaw isn't exactly known for their exceptionally talented Quidditch team.

Malfoy, meanwhile—[Y/N] tells herself that the way her eyes dart around the pitch in search of a certain platinum blond is because she wants to watch the game properly and not for other reasons.

She spots him hovering somewhere above the rest of the players, face screwed up in concentration as his gaze moves around the pitch in search for the golden snitch. He looks even paler in winter, set against a backdrop of a cloudy sky and snow—

[Y/N] jars herself out of her thoughts and blinks, side-eyeing her friends (specifically Ron) to make sure they hadn't seen her.. observing the Slytherin seeker. (Not like it matters; it's not as though she fancies him, but Ron would certainly take it the wrong way.)

"Go Ravenclaw!" Ron practically screeches, waving his Ravenclaw banner in the air—when did he get that? "Kick Slytherin’s arse so Gryffindor can crush you in the finals!"

[Y/N] snorts. "Have it all thought out, don't you, Ron?"

"Go on and cheer for your Slytherin boyfriend, [Y/N], no one's stopping you," says Harry, grinning. She turns to face him, mouth open in disbelief, and lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter.

"So, Harry," [Y/N] says, suddenly deadpan. ”I see you've chosen Ron’s side."

Harry snickers, then shrugs.

"Oh, Malfoy’s seen the snitch!" someone shouts from beside them. [Y/N] turns back to the game to see Malfoy zooming down the pitch, clutching the front of his broom as he swerves past Slytherin and Ravenclaw players alike in pursuit of the tiny golden ball all the way on the other side of the stadium, where [Y/N] and her friends are sat. He has the upper hand—Ravenclaw's seeker is only just now starting to fly after him, but she's a good distance behind and Malfoy is gaining speed.

"He’s gonna catch it!"

"Ravenclaw's even worse than I thought," grumbles Ron, slumping down in his seat.

But just as Malfoy passes by them, somehow, despite the fact that he is in pursuit of the bloody golden snitch and on the brink of securing victory for his team, he slows down just the tiniest bit, and then, in true Malfoy fashion—theatric as always in his displays of affection—he catches her eye and yells “This one's for you, [Y/N]!”, a grin on his face before he hurtles down the pitch, stretching out his hand towards the fluttering snitch—

"Malfoy’s got the snitch!" Dean Thomas screams into his microphone. "Slytherin wins!"

[Y/N] stares, feeling oddly warm despite the wintry weather, as Malfoy spins around in mid-air, triumphantly holding up the snitch for the rest of Hogwarts to see.

"Blimey," gapes Ron, wide-eyed, staring not at the Slytherin seeker but at [Y/N]. "That was—"

[Y/N] looks away from Malfoy to meet Ron's gaze, maintaining indifference. "He’s quite the charmer, isn't he?" she mutters, and hopes that her friends will think that the blush on her cheeks is because of the cold and not because of something—someone else.

But that's ridiculous. It is because of the cold, isn't it?

"It may be Malfoy," says Ron slowly, shaking his head, "But you can't deny that was bloody romantic. Felt like I was watching something out of one of those Muggle films."

"Yeah, we'll have to ask him for tips," says Harry, and starts laughing when [Y/N] rolls her eyes in response.

—

Malfoy may have stopped sending her Howlers, but that hardly matters because he has found every other way to pester her.

This includes consistently yelling out her name and shouting random pick-up lines every time he spots her in the hallway, as well as sending people to do her bidding—no longer first-years, but Crabbe and Goyle, who show up at random intervals everyday presenting her with a batch of different pastries. She always sends the pair off, but only after Ron and Harry accept said pastries for themselves.

"Blimey, this is heavenly!" gushes Ron, taking a passionate bite off of his second red velvet cupcake. "You sure you don't want a bite, [Y/N]? Hermione?"

[Y/N] offers him an exasperated smile. "No, thank you, Ron."

"Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend."

The four of them walk into the dingy Potions classroom. Snape is nowhere to be seen, but it's only a matter of time before he swoops in all bat-like, so [Y/N] and Hermione quickly take a seat at their regular desk, right next to Ron and Harry.

"Have you done your homework?" asks Hermione, pulling out an assortment of parchment from her bag.

[Y/N] hums in response. "I doubt mine is half as good as yours, but hopefully I’ll scrape an acceptable."

"Oh, you're a good student, [Y/N]. Don't bring yourself down."

"Hard not to when I’m sitting next to the brightest witch in our year," she nudges Hermione’s shoulder, smiling. Hermione huffs, rolling her eyes, but it's clear by the pleased look on her face that she doesn't hate [Y/N]'s honest flattery as much as she lets on.

[Y/N] drums her fingers on the desk to pass time, not quite paying attention to the students filtering into the classroom. Or at least not until one of them calls her name and drawls, "Is someone sitting here?"

[Y/N]'s head snaps around to see none other than Malfoy, gesturing to the desk to the left of hers and Hermione’s. "Mind if I,” he pauses, grinning, "Slytherin?"

She purses her lips into a thin, tight line, inhaling deeply as she fights to keep her cool. Yes, there are times when Malfoy's gestures have her questioning her own hatred for him, but this—this is not one of them.

"That," she says, voice mostly level. "Is your seat, Malfoy. I don’t see why you have to ask me."

Which is a lie. [Y/N] knows why, of course. To get her attention. To woo her. But part of her wishes that Malfoy would realize that everything he is doing, from the overbearing pick up lines to the cupcakes to his constant public declarations of love, isn't something that [Y/N] thoroughly enjoys. Does she want him to stop yelling at her in the hallways? Yes. Does she want Crabbe and Goyle to stop bumbling up to her everywhere she goes (outside of the girl's bathroom is one example) offering cupcakes and pie and tarts? Yes. But does she want Malfoy to stop trying entirely?

Maybe not. Maybe part of her wants to give him a chance. He does seem to truly hold feelings, judging from his confession back at the Quidditch stadium, unless he's a terribly good actor.

And it wouldn't just be him she'd be giving a chance, either. Perhaps she'd also be doing so to herself. Because, over the past month, it's baffled her how quickly her feelings for him have shifted. Or maybe it's not a change of feelings, but rather realization that under all that sneering and pureblood prejudice, Draco Malfoy is a boy.

An annoyingly attractive one.

But there is so much more that [Y/N] dislikes about him. His snootiness. His arrogance. His lack of consideration for other people's feelings. He may be tall and lithe and undeniably handsome, and he may have very soft-looking platinum blond hair and stormy grey eyes like dark clouds, but he is also a prick. And that wins over everything else, no matter how.. visually pleasing he is.

So when a paper bird flutters in front of her halfway through the lesson, when Snape’s back is turned, [Y/N] hesitates. She knows fully well who it's from, despite not having to look to the side and meet his gaze.

From beside her, Hermione whispers, "Get rid of it, before Snape sees."

Exhaling, [Y/N] snatches the paper bird and quickly unfolds it.

She doesn't know what she's expecting to see, but it's certainly not the words "meet me at the Astronomy tower after dinner" scribbled across the parchment. And with a drawing of a face blowing kisses, no less.

[Y/N] sighs.

—

[Y/N] has no real feelings for Malfoy, so succumbing to his mysterious evening request at the Astronomy tower shouldn't mean anything.

Scratch that: it doesn't mean anything. Not to her. (Or so she tells herself.) This is a chance for her to tell Malfoy to sod off and to stop courting her. And for good, this time. No matter what that annoying little voice inside her head tells her, she can't possibly even consider the idea of actually giving in to him. (And to herself.)

So she's going to put a stop to it, once and for all.

"I’m going," she decides over dinner, slamming her palms down on the table.

"Going where?" asks Harry.

"The Astronomy tower," she replies resolutely.

"What, to go star-gazing?" Ron snickers. [Y/N] glances at him and realizes, quickly, that telling them had slipped her mind—she'd been far too preoccupied with her own conflicting thoughts.

She shifts in her seat. She doesn't necessarily need to tell them, does she? It's not as though it's important enough to share. And besides, Ron would only badger her about it. Mercilessly. [Y/N] can already picture him in her head, talking about Malfoy and snogging under the stars and Merlin-knows-what-else.

"Nevermind," says [Y/N], taking a bite out of a muffin and looking away. They don't need to know; it's not as though it's important.

—

After [Y/N] has walked up all of the stairs to get there, only taking one or two shortcuts, she's out of breath, but she creeps into the Astronomy tower anyway. It’s mostly dark save for the faint moonshine filtering in from the open sides, and, well—there he is.

Malfoy’s arms are crossed over his chest, his back mostly turned as he stands dangerously close to the railing, looking out over the dark landscape. Dim light catches on the side of his face, illuminating the grey of his eyes.

The curve of his nose.

Pale skin.

White-blond hair.

[Y/N] finds herself staring, one hand on the doorframe as though for support, brows furrowed in the middle in a slight frown as she watches him.

He looks lost in thought. Even from a few feet away, [Y/N] can see the far-off, distant look in his eyes. Like storms brewing behind dark clouds, she thinks to herself. It’s a quiet little whisper in the back of her mind that has her heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest that she never knew it was capable of.

But then she blinks.

This is the last thing [Y/N] needs. To see Malfoy stripped of his arrogance—to see him as he is, bathed in moonlight, glowing, almost. To look at him and to see a boy with eyes like molten silver and nothing more—it's the last thing she needs to convince herself that she doesn't feel something for him that isn't hatred.

No, she doesn't need this.

She turns around, breath caught in her throat, and starts walking down the steps. Accidentally, stupidly, her foot catches on a metal step and a loud clang echoes around the silent tower.

[Y/N] pauses, eyes wide.

"[Y/N]?" Malfoy's voice says. He can't see her. It’s too dark, and [Y/N] is too far down the steps.

She swallows. But instead of dreading what could come, she finds herself waiting, half-hoping that he'd check the staircase, that he would see her and—

And then what?

[Y/N] rushes down the steps, ignoring the loud noise her footsteps make on the way. This is the last thing she needs.

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, and she is determined to make that clear. (Both to herself and to her friends, although the former seems to be taking a lot more convincing.)

"What is there to like about him? He’s nothing but an annoying pain in the arse who has an overwhelming amount of pride and arrogance simply because of his blood—which is not only something that he never rightfully earned but is also something that shouldn't even bloody matter, except he thinks that it does solely because he is an absolute nutter who has nothing better to do with his life other than leech off of his parents' money and shove it in other people's faces."

Ron meets Harry’s gaze from across the table, who seems to be trying very hard not to laugh. Swallowing down a forkful of pancakes, Ron looks back at [Y/N]. "I’m sorry," he begins slowly. "But remind me again why we're talking about Malfoy?"

"I’m not finished, Ronald," [Y/N] snaps, shooting him a dirty look. Ron raises his eyebrows. "As I was saying before someone so rudely cut me off, Malfoy is a nasty little git who finds joy in making other people suffer. he probably has tiny puppies locked up inside his basement just so he can laugh in their faces and revel in their misery because he is that horrible of a person—"

Harry lurches with poorly suppressed laughter.

"An absolute terrible excuse for a human being! He basks in other people's humiliation—mine, for example!—and I would much rather snog the Giant Squid than ever actually consider his—" She pauses, gritting her teeth. "Odd.. requests."

"It’s not like he's asking you to murder house-elves," Ron mutters.

"Something that I would rather do than date him!"

"[Y/N]!" Hermione gasps, looking genuinely offended as she, for the first time since they'd arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, looks up from the homework she's rushing to finish. (As if her five pieces worth of parchment aren't enough—Flitwick had only asked for three!)

"Sorry, Hermione," [Y/N] says, offering her an apologetic look that she only half-means. This quickly turns into a fierce look of challenge as she swivels back around in her seat to face the redhead sitting next to her. "Honestly, since when have you started defending Malfoy?"

Ron blanches. "I’m not defending him!" he says indignantly, setting his fork down on his plate. "It’s just.. yeah, it's a bit odd that he's declaring his undying love for you out of bloody nowhere, but he's stopped badgering us, hasn't he? Nasty little ferret hasn't said a word to Harry for weeks! And that goes for me and Hermione, too!"

[Y/N] narrows her eyes at him. "So you think it's great that he's stopped annoying you at the cost of my suffering?"

"What suffering!" Ron exclaims. "He’s been treating you like a bloody princess!"

"Oh, why don't you just snog him yourself, then, if you think so highly of him?"

Ron’s jaw drops in shocked offense.

"Alright, that's enough!" Harry announces, reaching over the table to shove the two apart from each other. "Why doesn't one of you switch seats with me before you end up strangling each other?"

"I don't know, Harry," [Y/N]'s lip curls. "I might have to hold Ron back before he goes running off to his ferret prince—or should we just let him? Merlin knows he'd love to, won't you, Ronald?"

Ron’s teeth are gritted; his eyes dart around the food on the table as though looking for the most effective weapon. He seems to be choosing between a green apple and rhubarb pie.

Thankfully, Ron never gets to take his pick. The bell rings, saving everyone in the Great Hall from witnessing what could have possibly been a brawl between friends. "Come on, let's go," says Harry quickly, relief evident in his tone of voice as he ushers the pair to their feet. "Wouldn’t want to be late for class."

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, but why does she find herself staring at him whenever she comes across him in the hallway the next day? Why, when Malfoy meets her gaze, does she look away and pretend to be immersed in something else?

And why in the bloody hell, when Malfoy playfully winks at her during Potions class, does she find it very, very hard not to smile?

She walks out of the dungeon classroom in a hurry with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, not wanting to spend a minute more in Malfoy's presence; she doesn't particularly enjoy being suddenly hyperaware of every move he makes, every little glance he sends her way when he thinks she isn't paying attention. It’s as though something in her system has gone awry. Is that why her heart feels like it's about to hop right out of her chest? Is that why she can't stop wondering what would've happened if she'd stayed at the Astronomy tower?

"Hey, wait up!” Harry calls loudly as they walk up the stone steps leading away from the dungeons and into the main hallway, which is bustling with students.

[Y/N], who had been walking far too fast in front of the three, looks back over her shoulder and sees that they're a few feet away. She stops, seemingly flustered, and waits for them to catch up.

"You look like you've wet your pants," says Ron.

"I’m not you, Ron," she retorts.

"Oh, can you two please stop bickering for once?" says Hermione, exasperated.

From behind the three, Draco Malfoy emerges from the potions classroom and begins walking up the stone steps. [Y/N]'s hands clench into fists at her side as she discretely presses her back to the stone wall at her sides.

The blond doesn't even as much as glance at Ron, Harry, and Hermione as he passes by them on the steps. [Y/N], however—once Malfoy has reached the step below the one she's standing on, he pauses, no less than two feet away from her, and quirks an eyebrow.

"What?" [Y/N] scowls, trying not to look at the strand of blond hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Malfoy’s gaze dances over her face. "Was it you?"

She meets her friends' eyes over Malfoy's shoulder. Ron and Harry have their eyebrows raised; Hermione looks concerned. [Y/N] takes a moment to compose herself—tries to force her heart back into her chest—before she folds her arms across her chest and looks at the Slytherin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"At the Astronomy tower," Malfoy says, and moves up one step so that he's standing on the same one she's on. A foot away. "I heard someone last night, while I was waiting for you."

Oh, Merlin.

"You came, didn't you?" he presses on.

"No," [Y/N] lies, and hates how defensive she sounds. She shifts a little on her feet, her eyes skirting away to look at a random spot behind Malfoy. "I was.. at the library. Doing things of actual importance."

There’s a slight pause as Malfoy's nose wrinkles. "Must’ve been someone else spying on me, then," he finally says through a scoff, but [Y/N] knows disappointment when she sees it. He rolls his shoulders back and puts on his signature smirk, inclining his head towards her as he takes another step up the stairs. "Better hurry and give me an answer, [Y/N]," he tells her, grinning. "Before one of my admirers get to me first."

[Y/N] watches as he walks up the steps and disappears into the hallway.

"The library?" a voice says incredulously. She turns back to Ron, whose face is scrunched in disbelief. "No, you weren't! We were waiting for you there and you never came."

[Y/N] folds her arms across her chest indignantly but doesn't respond, instead walking up the stone steps.

"Malfoy said he was waiting for you at the Astronomy tower," says Hermione slowly as they trail after her; [Y/N] speeds up her pace. "Is that why you mentioned going there during dinner last night?"

[Y/N] emerges into the main corridor first. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" bursts Ron, sounding downright triumphant.

"Congratulations, Ron, you don't have the memory range of a teaspoon, after all," [Y/N] mutters, looking around. Malfoy is walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

Ron ignores her. "I bet you did go. I bet you did spy on him—" And then he gasps, looking as though he's unearthed the secret of life. "Merlin’s beard, you really do fancy him, don't you?"

[Y/N]'s footsteps falter. Ron, Harry, and Hermione stop right with her.

Hermione is the only one who doesn't look stunned out of her mind. Looking between the two boys, she rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Honestly, is that so hard to believe?" says Hermione, frowning. "I understand that it's Malfoy and he is a prick, but [Y/N] is perfectly entitled to fancy whoever she likes." She turns to [Y/N]. "It’s fine, [Y/N], you don't have to feel guilty about it. Anyone would catch feelings if someone started doing such sweet things for them, even if it were someone like Malfoy."

"Blimey," says Harry, breathless. "Which part sealed the deal, [Y/N]? The pick-up lines? Or was it the cupcakes?"

[Y/N], who had been opening and closing her mouth like a fish blown out of water, finally stops trying to find words that just aren't there and instead drags her palm across her face in frustration. "I don't.." she says, sounding defeated, but really—now that she's faced with such confrontation, it's easier to admit to herself that maybe.. maybe she does fancy Malfoy.

Ron’s lips have split into a jubilant grin. ”I called it!" he says, smacking Harry's shoulder. "Bloody knew it!"

Hermione reaches out to rub [Y/N]'s back. "Don’t feel too bad about it, [Y/N]. I sort of knew—you looked at him differently after he confessed to you on the pitch."

[Y/N] sighs, realizing that no amount of denying it will convince her friends. Or herself.

She does fancy Malfoy.

Properly acknowledging it—finally admitting it to herself—is oddly relieving. She’s been keeping her feelings cooped up inside of her chest despite the fact they are so much bigger than her, and now that she's letting them burst free.. now that she's coming to terms with them..

Well. It’s not the worst feeling ever.

Ron is still beaming, looking as though he's won the lottery. And apparently, in a way, he has: "Fred and George said it'd take you a month longer to give in. I said it'd take you less—guess I’ve won myself two galleons!"

[Y/N]'s mouth falls open. "You bet on this?"

Ron raises his eyebrows, as though surprised to hear that she didn't know. "Uh, I and the entire bloody castle."

Struck by a sudden burst of both annoyance and confidence, [Y/N], scowling, detaches herself from her friends and strides down the hallway towards Malfoy, full of intent. He hasn't noticed her yet; his back is still turned, but she catches up to him easily. And when she does, she unceremoniously bumps her shoulder into his and grabs his hand, quickly interlacing her fingers through his.

"What the hell—"

Malfoy, obviously taken aback, tries to pull his hand away, sneering, until his gaze lands on [Y/N].

"Keep walking, Malfoy," she says scathingly, not quite looking at him.

Baffled, Malfoy stares at her, then down at their hands, which are now tightly interlocked between them. [Y/N] scowls resolutely at the hallway ahead of her.

And then Malfoy laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement.

"Keep walking," [Y/N] repeats, this time turning to look at him, fighting to keep her gaze indifferent. The last thing she wants Malfoy to know is that there is an onslaught of tiny little butterflies rampaging in her stomach and a tingly feeling spreading from their hands all the way up her spine and into her heart.

Malfoy’s lips tug up into a wide grin—a real one, [Y/N] thinks. Not an arrogant smirk or a deprecating sneer; one that she can't ever recall seeing. But now that she has, she finds herself wishing he'd do it more often.

[Y/N] tugs him along as she walks, feeling the stunned stares of her friends boring into her skull from behind. (Ron is going to have a field day about this.)

"So," Malfoy begins, and she doesn't have to look at him to know that he's still grinning down at her. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"

[Y/N] rolls her eyes; she doesn't fail to notice the way that the students they're passing by are staring at them, eyes wide, whispering to themselves. "Isn’t this what you wanted?"

Malfoy shrugs. "Among other things."

She side-eyes him, muttering, "Does that include snogging?"

He makes an amused sound at the back of his throat. "You said it, not me."

[Y/N] has to grit her teeth to stop the corners of her lips from tugging up. They turn a corner down the hallway, disappearing from both their friends' views (assuming they haven't followed them). At this thought, [Y/N] takes a brief glance over her shoulder—and sure enough, there's a redhead peeking out of a group of very confused Ravenclaws.

Cursing Ron Weasley inside her head, she turns her gaze back ahead of her. ”I have Charms class next."

Malfoy raises his brows. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?"

"Walk me there," says [Y/N] briskly.

She can practically feel the surprise radiating off of the blond next to her. A moment later, he throws his head back in a loud laugh. "And you want me to be late to Transfiguration? It’s all the way on the other side of the castle."

[Y/N] hums. "Can’t even do that for the girl you fancy?"

There’s a beat of silence. His grip on her hand falters a little as he says, voice still nonchalant and yet at the same time holding an undeniable sense of sincerity, "I could if I knew she wasn't leading me on."

"She isn't," [Y/N] says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy is staring at her with his brows pulled in together just slightly at the middle, giving off the impression that he's trying to decide whether or not she's being serious. He slows down his pace until he comes to a full stop, urging [Y/N] to halt alongside him until they're standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious to the stares following them and the redhead a mere few feet away.

"How do I know this isn't a prank?" says Malfoy, lip slowly curling as he narrows his eyes at her, the first few traces of suspicion etching itself onto his face now that the whole ridiculousness of the situation has finally sunken in. [Y/N] can't blame him; her antics—suddenly marching up to him in the hallway, grabbing his hand and walking with him as though they've been doing it for years—all of it is uncalled for after having ruthlessly turned him down so many times before. But [Y/N] can't delve into a discussion of her conflicting emotions—at least not right now—so she hopes, at least for now, that he will take her word for it.

She clears her throat. "Well," she begins, looking down at their hands; Malfoy’s grip has gone slack. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d do it because I wanted to. Not because I wanted to get a rise out of you." She lets her gaze go back up to his, brows rising in familiar challenge. "I don't stoop that low, Malfoy. You’ve been in love with me for years—shouldn't you know that by now?"

There are a few seconds in which the blond standing before her still looks at her with a scrutinizing gaze, lips set into a thin, hard line and his eyes swimming with conflict that [Y/N] wouldn't have been able to see from afar, but sees in perfect clarity now that she's standing a mere foot away from him. But then, after what feels like ages, Malfoy nods, slowly, frown smoothing out into an expression of—could that be relief?

"I will be late for Transfiguration, you know," he says, lips quirking up into a grin.

[Y/N] laughs. (A real one, Draco thinks to himself.) This time she doesn't try to stop herself from smiling; just lets her lips do so of their own accord. It feels nice. Freeing. "Better just one of us than two, don't you think?" she says, mirroring his playful grin. "And besides, Goyle can stand in for you. You two do have quite the resemblance."

"Oh, sod off."

And it really is very odd, because everything about this shouldn't feel right; they've been enemies for the longest time, and a year ago, [Y/N] would have been revolted at the mere idea of ever coming close to Draco Malfoy—but it does. That is, it feels right. Like they've been this way for ages and this playful, harmless banter is the most natural thing.

Draco isn't perfect—Merlin, does he have a long way to go—but if he means to stop being a prat as long as [Y/N] is at his side, then she is willing to venture into whatever has formed between them.

And if this little bond is going to involve any more of this—this being her and Draco exaggeratedly swinging their arms between them as he walks her to Charms class with their fingers still intertwined, snickering, waiting for one of them to start complaining about their arm sockets hurting—then maybe it isn't the worst thing ever, after all.

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louisrarepairfest · 1 year

Text

LOUIS RARE PAIR FEST 2023

—Prompts—

[Submit a prompt you'd like to read here!]

✦ The prompt can specify a particular pairing or can use Louis/Character B as the pairing.

✦ Writers can sign up with one of these prompts or sign up with their own prompt not on this list.

✦ Prompts will be crossed off as they are chosen during sign ups.

(A) Louis/Character B are uni roommates

(H) Louis/Liam - Bros who get married for insurance purposes and then decide divorce isn’t worth the hassle.

(i) Louis/Charlie Lightening…no plot but sex on the ping pong table. Obviously.

(J) Louis and his bandmates/opening band let off some steam by having a circle jerk. It might turn into more for some of them.

(K) Girl direction! Louis and character B are star athletes on the college (you choose the) sport team. They're both on the butch side, and it takes them a while to figure out that they're into one another and don't need to femme it up to get the other to like them.

(L) M/M Louis and Taylor Swift are rival quarterbacks for their town's 2 high school teams. Nobody knows that they've been secretly dating since sharing a NYE kiss.

(M) Louis/Liam - everyone thinks Louis and Harry are together but it’s actually Louis and Liam

(N) Lilo hot water maintenance au based on this tumblr post

(O) Lilo Robin Hood AU

(P) Lilo Howl’s Moving Castle au

(S) Person A falls in love with his gym bro, Louis based on this post

(U) Edwardian era Lilo au where they’re both working class. maybe one is a servant and one is a shop assistant, or both servants.

(V) Louis and David Dawson bond over their time with Harry

(W) Louis/Oscar Isaac- edwardian AU where Oscar is a poet and Louis is his muse

(X) Louis/Pedro Pascal AU where Louis is exploring in the arctic and needs a guide

(Y) Louis/Pedro Pascal Gladiator AU

(Z) Michael B. Jordan as a boxer and nurse Louis

(AA) Louis/Sebastian Stan arranged marriage royalty AU. Louis is betrothed to King Sebastian Stan, a widower with two kids who aren't to keen of the King's fiancé.

(BB) Louis/Sam Claflin - something based on the interview where Sam says Louis follows him on Twitter and that they've had a conversation but he doesn't want to get into it.

(CC) 27 dresses take off where Niall is always the best man, never the husband, and Louis is the snarky reporter.

(GG) Louis/Zayn/Liam - something soft, canon and present day. Maybe Louis comes home to them after being away on tour. Lots of domesticity.

(HH) Character B joins local amateur dramatics society and suddenly Louis is no longer a shoo-in for every lead role. Cue the drama!

(ii) AU. Preschool teacher Louis / Boxer Sebastian Stan

(JJ) Yellowjackets AU! Girl direction, any pairing from the show, cutting from 1996 to present.

(KK) Louis/Cillian Murphy - 1970s criminal au (preferably with Louis as the criminal), based on this photo: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FvyDkCnWAAk1UwS?format=jpg&name=4096x4096

#prompt masterpost #mod post #last year's submissions that were not written are prompts A-U #updated jun 2 #lol same prompt twice whoops

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition.

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #anti albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion

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lily-drake · 3 years

Text

Gifts

Any holiday or day where gifts were given was taken with utmost seriousness in the Wayne household. Or in other words, it was a competition to one up each other’s gifts. It all started when Jason came to the house and Dick had come back to visit for the holidays. Marinette hadn’t really understood what was happening when she happily opened Dick’s present, which was a new knitting kit with so many different materials. She ran over to him and hugged him tightly as Alfred took photos. Dick had glanced over at Jason and smirked at him, but Jay-Jay only rolled his eyes with his arms crossed. She still hadn’t opened his after all, and he was around her more now than Dick was, which meant he had a higher advantage of knowing her new interests and endeavors. So he watched as she pulled out a thick book of fashion design and her own embroidery set. Her eyes practically glowed as stared at the set. Jason hadn’t even seen her move because next thing he knew strong arms were wrapped around him. The 7-year-old had definitely been taught by Dick on how to hug people.

Bruce gazed lovingly at his children, but he knew about their competition, and he would not be outdone by his sons.

“Daddy, Daddy, look what Birdy and Jay-Jay gave me! They’re so nice! Feel the material Birdy got me, I can make so many things now!”

“That sounds amazing, Bluebell.”

Marinette smiled brightly as she showed Bruce the gifts that she got.

“Do you want to see what I got you?”

He asked amusedly. Marinette began to hop on her toes in excitement, because daddy’s always had the best gifts!

“Yes please!”

Bruce smiled and pointed out a small, thin, rectangular box under the tree. She leaped over to it and when she opened it her mouth dropped open and she squealed.

“You got me tickets to Sophie Theallet’s fashion show?!”

She was jumping with joy as she stared at the five tickets in her hand. Bruce looked over at and smirked at the boys. He won, again. They groaned and sulked in annoyance. Why did he always win?

________

Marinette was 9 when she finally figured out what her family was doing, and she knew that she would be the one to give the absolute best gifts to her family! Her family deserved something super special, so she went to work. Her Birdy was part of the circus and they had a lot of equipment he often used. But what could she do that would be super special and make her win the competition? Then it hit her, she knew exactly what she would do! She would need to ask Alfred for help, but it would be worth it!

Next was Jay-Jay. She didn’t know much about his past as he always told her that she had to wait till she was older, but she knew about him now. Jay-Jay loved to read and would often read to her, he really liked hoodies and comfy things, and he liked to bake with Alfred and her. So maybe…….yea! She would do that, it shouldn’t be that hard to do.

Daddy always got her such nice gifts, how could she ever beat him? There had to be something she could do to outdo him. He was Batman, he worked with the Justice League, he loved all of them, and sometimes if he finished his work early would watch movies with them! But he was always so good and knew exactly what to get. She would try though, she had an idea and she hoped it would work.

Alfred, he deserved the best gift because of everything he did for them! She already knew the perfect gift for her grandpa Alffie!

________

Christmas arrived and she stared out the window as the snowflakes fell onto the covered yard. Maybe they could go sledding today, that would be so much fun! She was so transfixed in the snow, and thinking of how pretty a dress would be with the same color and different designs, that she hadn’t noticed her brothers sneaking up on her. A squeal left her lips as she was lifted into the air and twirled around wrapped in the warm embrace of her Birdy. She giggled as he spun and squeaked as she was gently thrown into the air, only to land on the couch.

“Good morning Blueberry.”

Dick chirped happily. She giggled again and leaned into Jay-Jay’s hand as he ruffled her hair.

“Morning Pixie-pop. Sleep well?”

“Morning Birdy and Jay-Jay. I slept great, thank you. Did either of you?”

Jason shrugged with a small smirk,

“I slept fine, though I wouldn’t have minded sleeping a little longer. You missed Dick’s hallway caroling this morning.”

“I sounded amazing, thank you very much. And I was too excited to fully sleep. I’m going to win this year.”

Dick said pridefully.

“No way, I’m totally going to beat you.”

Jason deffied puffing out his chest slightly. Marinette giggled and called out,

“No, I’m going to beat all of you! I will be the champion gift giver this year.”

They looked at her and smirked.

“Only in your dreams Pix.”

“You’ll see,”

She replied, crossing her arms and lifting her nose in the air like she had seen some of the people at the galas do.

“Then you’ll have to agree with me!”

They all gave each other sceptical looks before laughing and continued to talk until daddy came down. When he finally did, the competition commenced. The first person to open presents was her, obviously, as she was the youngest. Dick had given her a really nice and fancy art kit, and she loved it! Jay-Jay had given her tickets and backstage passes to the theater for The Nutcracker, she had been wanting to see it for a while now. Alfred had told her that he would teach her how to make a super secret recipe, and she would be able to help him with dinner today too! Daddy, he was too clever, too cunning. He had given her a pet hamster, and it was beautiful! She couldn’t beat him now, her gift was nothing compared to-to this! She tries though, and maybe she could win second? Yea, she would be ok with second, if she got this adorable baby creature. She couldn’t even be mad or disappointed, because look at its cute little feet and adorable eyes!

Next was Jay-Jay. The others had given him some really nice things, but she felt that hers was the best! So when he opened it and his eyes shined, she knew she made the right thing! It had taken her hours to find it, and she had to ask Dad if she could get it since she wasn’t allowed to use the card without permission. It was one of the first books of Pride and Prejudice ever published, she even got him a fancy ink and quill set so he could better embrace his Harry Potter nerdom.

“This is amazing, thank you Pixie, I guess I do owe you an apology, this is amazing.”

She smiled up at him while gently petting the top of her new hamster's head as it laid on her lap.

“Told you!”

For Dick she had knitted him a collection of stuffed animals that he talked about from the circus. Alfred had helped her find the material and helped her when she made a mistake or needed help on a particularly tricky part. She thought she saw Dick’s eyes water for a second. The next thing she knew she was being tightly hugged, but he left enough room to not squish her furry child.

“Thank you Blueberry, it’s amazing.”

“Of course it is, I made them!”

He chuckled as he pulled away and ruffled her already messed up hair.

She had made Daddy a picture book and had decorated it with black and yellow glitter, bats, and different birds. Throughout the book were all of the pictures that she was able to get her hands on dated and labeled in order from oldest photo to most recent. He had a soft smile as he looked through the book and when he finally looked back up to his slightly nervous daughter he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

“I think you won this year.”

“Nuh ah! You gave me a hamster! There’s no way I could have won!”

“Well, I think all the others would agree that you thought of and made some very amazing gifts.”

She turned to look at the others as they gave gentle nods and thumbs up. Her cheeks felt really warm and she smiled at them all.

“Thank you. Now Grandpa Alffie needs to open his presents!”

Alfred smiled at the small child and opened the gifts he had received from the others. Marinette had made and embroidered a new handkerchief for him. He seemed to like it as he immediately placed it in his pocket. She was the victor of this year's Christmas gift exchange, but she still felt that Daddy beat her.

________

As years passed and her family grew so did the competition. Sadly, it would be harder to her her family their most desired gifts as she had decided to study abroad in Paris that year, but she would be da*ed if she didn’t try her hardest. She had gotten better with her skills for making things over the years, and so much had happened. Jason had died and come back, that was the hardest time of her life. They had new people adopted into the family, and she even had a little brother! She was going to meet him this year when she went to visit for the winter break. She would have the glasses with her at all times in case there was an attack so she could quickly come back here and take care of it.

When she arrived at the Gotham Airport and saw her large family standing and holding a sign as they looked for her she ran up to them as quickly as she could.

“Pixie!”

Jason called out, catching the small girl and twirling her around. She laughed and when she was put down created the rest of her family just as happily. When she finally came face to face with her little brother she held out her hand. Her family said he was more formal and was very against physical touch that he did not agree to or initiate. He eyed her hand suspiciously before shaking it and giving her a nod.

“Damian Al Ghul-Wayne.”

“Marinette Wayne. It’s nice to finally meet you Damian.”

They both let go after a firm shake. She already had a gift for him, and Kagami helped her find the perfect one. It was a nice blade, the blade was completely black, but had a red tint to it and red gains that delicately ran through it. The hilt was of fine golden metal and a strong leather grip. She had made the sheath for the blade. With strong leather and an inner layer of Kevlar so the sword would be protected. She had carved in Arabic symbols to spell out “Son of Bat” and had sewn a few almost unnoticeable small robins along the bottom and top of the inky black material.

For Tim, she had gotten him the best coffee beans in all of Paris and she had made him new lounge clothes that identified with his hero persona of Red Robin that had many hidden pockets and two large to-go coffee cups, one on each sleeve.

For Jason she had made him a new leather Jacket with book quotes embroidered all over the inside of the inner material. There were lots of different pockets, and a few tailor made to fit his guns. She had put a few Jagged Stone concert tickets in one of the pockets too.

For Stephanie, she had made purple silk pajamas that had waffles all over it. She had even made sure that there was a hood connected to the pj shirt.

For Cass, just like Jason had done for her, gotten tickets for The Nutcracker. She had also gotten her ballerina shoes, the best one and most highly recommended ones from the Paris Ballet.

For Dick she had made him an elephant onesie. Why you may ask, well because for her birthday he had given her a mouse one. So was it spite for being called short, or was it her trying to match, nobody needs to know.

She had made Alfred a new apron with the words “Don’t try anything, I already know.” Neatly sewed in cursive into it.

She had gotten Babs a new eskrima stick infused with a bit of her luck in it so no one would underestimate her in battle as she would always have luck on her side giving her the upper hand. She may be disabled, but that doesn’t stop her from kicking butt.

Finally, her gift for her dad. This one was hard, because she wasn’t around to know what had caught his eye this year, and her siblings refused to tell her. It was fine though, because she would figure it out. And she did, or at least she had tried. She ended up making him a bee suit jacket with everybody’s names sewed into the inner lining, multiple pockets for convenience, and black bats that would only be shown in the right lighting. She would win this year, she would! Sadly, Dick had won last year, but she would regain her crown again this year! She would be the best gift giver of her whole family!!!

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess

#Maribat #BDMWM2021 #bio!dad bruce wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette wayne #sibling au #sibling timinette #sibling dickinette #sibling jasonette #sibling daminette #gift giving is serious #to give or be given #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #dc x mlb #day 7 #fluff #maribat

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years

Text

The Boy Next Door

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL (fem+mal), DIRTY TALK, PRAISE, CHOKING, THIGH RIDING, MENTIONS OF DRUGS.

inexperienced!reader x stoner!tom

(inspired by Ginny and Georgia)

The new house was a lot bigger than our last house. But of course that's due to my mother marrying a man 30 years older than her who owns some workout company. She's a gold digger is what I'm trying to say. Ever since I can remember, whatever guy she was dating dictated where we would live, where my brother and I would go to school, what I'd wear, how I'd act and even what friends I had. Or, lack there of. Always being the 'new girl' was beginning to get exhausting so I never really had friends. If I gained any friends then I knew that we'd get close then I'd move and we'd stay in touch for about a month before they move on and forget about me.

y/n. Always the new girl.

"y/n would you help us, please?" Mum asked in an annoyed tone, brushing past me with a box in her hands.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, walking to the car and beginning to lift stuff out and into the house. It was a huge driveway - unnecessarily large - and everyone on the street was the same. Everyone in the town was the same. It was a rich, suburban area. No place I hadn't seen before but we definitely didn't belong. My Mum just shapeshifted into whoever she thought Greg would want. Greg being my 'step-dad'. He's 63. My Mum is 33. How is that even allowed.

We unloaded everything from the cars and waited on the trucks arriving with everything else. Cameron and I scuffed our shoes as we strolled through the huge house, taking in everything and familiarising ourselves with our new home.

"I'm so glad I'm not at school anymore because being in a class with snobby assholes like these people would be shit." Cameron said, crossing his arms as he gestured to the family across the road.

I walked over to him and watched too. A family of 5 - two girls, one boy, Mum and a Dad - were dressed rather nicely in dresses and suits. They came out of their house and waltzed to their Tesla nonchalantly with their noses in the air. The eldest girl looked around my age. She would probably be in some of my classes.

"I'm not looking forward to Monday." I groaned.

We stood in comfortable silence, watching the Tesla inquisitively as it drove off with the family inside.

"Trucks arrived!" Mum called from the front door.

We both shared our sibling look with one another then walked back out with reluctance. Mum was standing in the middle of the driveway with her hands on her hips, watching as Greg approached the van and signed some forms off. Cameron and I walked down and stood either side of her. She grinned and wrapped her arms around us, rubbing both our backs simultaneously.

"I've got a good feeling about this, guys." She took a deep breath.

"At least someone does." I remarked.

She ignored the comment and we watched Greg do practically nothing. I mean he was basically an ancient artefact.

"I've heard your new school is wonderful. The pass grade levels are insanely good and there's a lot of people there to befriend." Mum spoke positively.

"My last 6 schools also had a lot of people to befriend but of course, I always lose them because we move so bloody much." I clenched my jaw.

"Well...this time it's different."

I scoffed, "You always say that."

"I swear this time!"

"And that!"

"y/n I don't know what you want me to do. Greg is a great guy who is supporting us fully! I mean, look at this place! Surely you can't be mad we're living here." Mum shook her head, removing her arm from my waist.

"I'd rather live in a box with just you two than live in a huge house with some random guy in a town I hate." I argued then stormed away dramatically up the driveway.

I got into the house and slammed the door, grabbing the banister and stomping up the flight of stairs. There was one flight then a landing then another flight. This house was too bloody big.

I finally found what was meant to be my new room and slammed that door shut. Just for good measure. I huffed and sighed as I leaned my back against the white, wooden door.

The room was stark white and empty, only a bay window to give some character. I might hate Greg and my mother and this whole situation but I loved this bay window. I snaked in between the boxes and suitcases and sat on the wooden ledge. I kicked my shoes off before sitting my feet up and watching outside. My room faced the front of the house so I could see the movers offloading furniture and boxes off while Greg stood helplessly.

I groaned and leaned my head back, closing my eyes, just wanting to crawl into a shell and hide.

A slam of a car door forced my eyelids open and I jumped slightly.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

I heard a woman's voice from outside. I looked outside curiously, scanning the street with my eyes to find where the noise was coming from. It finally caught my eye and I had to sit up and switch sides of the window to look properly.

A red-headed woman and a curly headed boy were standing in the driveway.

Our next door neighbours apparently.

The boy was around my age, maybe a little older. He stumbled a little as he walked up the drive, his mother - I think - watching from behind her car door.

"I'm going to bed!" He shouted back.

"Not now you're not, you have to talk to me, Thomas!" She shouted, slamming her own car door.

Thomas.

He hung his head on his shoulders, "I need to sleep, mum."

"Well I just had to bail you out of jail for marijuana possession and use so you better talk to me."

Oof, I thought. He was a stoner. A criminal basically. But he was attractive from what you could see. Dark brown curly hair, tall enough, a sharp jawline, a good body from where I was sitting and a good style too - a hoodie with a denim jacket and jeans. But he was my neighbour. And a stoner.

"Mum can we just talk later?" He pleaded, running a hand through his hair.

"Tom we will talk about this right now." She said sternly.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning his back to her and walking away. I watched him with a slight smile. He really was attractive.

"Thomas Holland you get back here right now!" His mother shouted.

"When I'm not on drugs, I'll talk." He stated.

His mother stuttered then just grunted in annoyance, allowing him to go inside.

I kept my eyes on him, my smile still on my face as he started to walk into his house. He suddenly turned his head with a confused expression then looked up. Straight at me through my window.

I froze in shock, eyes widening, mouth parting. He slowly smirked and nodded his head at me before going inside.

I sunk off the window ledge in humiliation, snaking to the floor and mumbling how stupid I was and how embarrassing that was.

"y/n! Come meet your neighbour!" Mum shouted up.

My ears perked up then I leaped up to look out the bay window. The boy next door's mum was standing outside, chatting to my mum.

I hardly learned anything talking to his mum. Her name was Nikki Holland, she had a husband named Dominic who was a comedian and a writer. She was a photographer. Along with Tom - the oldest - she had three other sons: twins named Harry and Sam and then Paddy who was a good bit younger. I can't remember the exact age. My mum had nosily asked her about Tom and that was the only part I listened to.

"He's 18,"

"Dropped out of school last year,"

"Says he wants to be an actor,"

"Oh today? He got in trouble from the police about...you know what, that isn't important."

"You look so young to be a mother to a teenager. How old are you?"

"And you're 18, too?" "Still in school?" "What do you want to do?" "Ah, smart girl."

The conversation was brief and slightly awkward. She was clearly stressed about Tom and his situation so I slid out of the engagement pretty fast and escaped up to my room.

During the entirety of the weird conversation, the movers had put my bed, mattress and desk into my room. It felt a lot more homier.

It was the next night and I had finished dinner and immediately gone upstairs. I was not participating in any sort of 'family time'. I sat down on my bed and scrolled through my phone aimlessly.

A thump outside drew my attention away and I looked to my right at the regular window which faced our neighbours house.

I sat up and squinted to see out into the dark. It was Tom. He was halfway out his window.

I didn't even realise our windows faced each other. And here he was, one leg out the window and his other following on. He had thrown a backpack down which caused the dull thump on the grass - which I only assume contains weed - and now he was escaping his house.

I got out of bed and walked to the glass, peeking out to see what he was doing.

He climbed impressively down the wall and jumped the last few metres, landing in a Spider-Man like pose. Admirable, I thought as he picked up his back pack and slid a skateboard out from a bush. He brushed it off then slotted it under his armpit.

He was sporting a black t-shirt with a dog-tag necklace and some distressed deep blue jeans with a denim jacket over top and a baseball cap placed on backwards that sat on top of his curly head of hair.

He looked around in case he was going to get caught then looked up. Directly at me. Again.

This time I didn't shy away. I just made a gesture and mouthed 'what the fuck?' then he laughed to himself and looked back up at me.

'Don't be so nosy, neighbour', he mouthed.

I squinted and shook my head in disapproval. He just smirked boyishly then walked to his driveway where he flipped his skateboard and skated off into the night.

I gulped and sat back on my bed, feeling my heart rate slow back down.

But curiosity filled my brain.

Where was he going?

Just as Sunday night came around, I had finished decorating my room. My pictures and paintings hung on the wall, along with some mirrors to fill the blank space of the white walls. My bed was cosy and was filled with throw blankets, fluffy sheets and way too many pillows. My desk was organised and my laptop sat atop the white surface, making it look a lot more professional than I had anticipated.

I had turned my bay window into a reading nook. A few blankets lay on the ledge and a couple pillows too, along with my current read.

I had seen Tom sneak out a few nights ago but I tried to stay away from the regular window, only ever sitting on the bay one because I couldn't see Toms room from there.

However, it didn't shield me from him completely.

I would see him outside in their front garden playing games with his brothers and sometimes I'd watch them from just over the top of my book. The way he played with their dog was cute. I had gathered her name was Tessa and I knew she was a staffy because we used to have one. He'd throw balls or sticks for her and sometimes she'd clamber on top of him with excitement. He'd dodge her licks but still clap her because she was excited after all.

Every once in a while he'd catch me looking down at him or I'd catch him looking up at me. Whenever it happened, it seemed as if everyone and everything disappeared. Like it was just us. Tunnel view. But then one of us would look away or stick the middle finger up or mouth 'fuck off'. Our unusual and silent rivalry was the closest thing to a friend I'd had in years.

But now, Mum, Greg and Cameron were going out to a nice dinner to celebrate the first week of living here. I thought it was an incredibly stupid idea so I decided to stay home alone and eat pizza.

They all left and Cameron immediately texted me.

Cammando: I hate you for leaving me

y/n: your fault not mine :)

I didn't really know what to do. I walked around the house and asked Alexa to play some songs but I couldn't be bothered dancing. I wasn't really in a dancing mood.

I just gave up and went back upstairs into my room. My windows were still open so before I got changed I went to close them and put down the blinds. I closed the bay window and then I went to the next one.

I looked straight ahead into Toms room and my jaw dropped.

He was hopping and hyping himself up in front of a punch bag...shirtless with gloves on. I watched as he punched the bag skilfully, moving his feet as if it was a choreographed routine. His damp curly hair hung onto his forehead and I could see glimpses of airpods in his ears. His back muscles tightened and flexed as he threw punches.

He moved around the bag and now I could see the front of him. He had a very visible six pack. I definitely didn't expect that from the stoner boy next door. If I thought he was attractive before...now I don't even know what I would call him.

Otherworldly, perhaps?

He suddenly looked up and I gasped, turning and slamming my back against the wall next to the window, wincing at the pain. Hopefully he didn't see me...

It was creepy to be staring at him. I shouldn't have done it.

I peeked back and he was back to beating the poor punch bag.

God, he was so hot.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and ears, burning with lust. I gulped and looked away, closing the blind to stop myself from looking anymore.

I got changed into shorts and a burgundy Cambridge University jumper that used to belong to my Dad. He gave it to me the first time he properly left for a while and I still have it even though I see him more often.

I hopped downstairs and played some music while I sorted the pizza and chips out to eat.

I sat and ate while listening to music. Once I was finished, I cleaned everything up then went back upstairs into my room, shutting the door behind me and jumping onto my bed.

I scrolled through tiktok aimlessly, just filling the time before it was an acceptable hour to go to bed as a teenager.

I switched apps to Instagram when I lay on my side, my back facing my windows. I scrolled through for a while but a certain picture caught my eye.

I had to blink a few times to really look.

It was my so called 'best friend' who I hadn't talked to since I moved twice after befriending her and my ex-boyfriend. My ex. My only boyfriend I've ever had. My first kiss, my first date...my first time. My only time. We only had sex twice. Three if you count foreplay but I faked it. Actually I faked it all of the times. He was never good at it and I had no idea how to go about telling him because to be honest, I had no idea what to do either.

But my ex-best friend and my ex-boyfriend? She didn't even tell me. She didn't even think to ask me.

They were dressed nicely and holding each other's waists. It looked a little awkward but most of those pictures are because they are being taken by parents.

I looked through the comments.

OMG! Hot couple alert! You two are the cutest just marry already yall are too happy it's been the best year of my life baby

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed, sitting up sharply.

They had been together for a YEAR.

"Ugh!" I groaned and threw my phone across my room, hearing it basically break against the wooden floor.

"Rough night?" A voice spoke from my window.

I screamed, jumping with fear and successfully landing my ass on the floor.

I panicked and grabbed the first thing I could use as a weapon. A glass of water. It would have to do.

I quickly flung the water at the intruder, "WHAT THE FUCK, GET OUT!" I screamed, my eyes closed tightly in fear.

I heard the water splash over them but they still came in. I just threw the glass at them. It thumped against them dully and then crashed onto the floor.

"Ouch."

I slowly opened one eye and looked up at the figure who had just entered my room.

It was Tom.

He was in a grey t-shirt and black basketball shorts with a baseball cap placed on backwards, a backpack thrown over his shoulder.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING CLIMBING INTO MY ROOM?!" I shouted, standing up.

He was taller than me by a few inches but we were basically at eye level.

"I was clearly looking for some company but you then threw water over me and then a literal glass." He spoke calmly, wiping a hand over his wet face.

"How the hell are you being so calm about this?! You just intruded into my home!" I exclaimed.

"Well, darling, I have a thing called weed. It's great for calming you down. You clearly need some." He slung his bag around and went to open it.

"W-what? No, I'm not smoking weed!"

He sighed and slung his bag back, "Well, why are you being so uptight about this I just wanted to say hello." He smiled boyishly.

I licked my teeth in annoyance. He was so fucking attractive but he was so fucking annoying and I didn't even know him.

"You need to get out. I didn't invite you in here so you are not welcome." I stated, crossing my arms.

"Okay, yes. But also- my mother nearly just caught me sneaking out so it's a cover if she comes round here."

"Why would she come here?" I asked.

"Because she's a mad woman who hates me having a life apparently."

"You're an 18 year old who sneaks out of the house to smoke weed. I wouldn't call that a life." I remarked.

He smirked, "You know what, I like you."

He sat his bag down then started to walk slowly around my room, inspecting my pictures and decorations intricately.

I stuttered, not knowing how to react to this whole situation.

"I'm sorry, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, brows furrowed.

"You're quite an interesting person, I must say."

I sighed and shook my head at the ceiling.

"Ah, this makes sense." He picked up one of my camera's.

I scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sat it down and picked up the next one, shrugging with a smug smirk.

"You like looking at things."

I gulped, red rushing to my cheeks.

"Clearly very beautiful things." He said, referring to my pictures on the walls.

"I'm just honoured I'm one of them."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "You wish you were."

"Oh but I am, aren't I?" He challenged, sitting my camera down.

I licked my back teeth and watched with heavy breath as he paced towards me slowly.

"I've never taken a picture of you before." I said matter-of-factly.

"You might not have but you definitely love a good stare, don't you?" He asked, his left eyebrow quirked cockily.

I noticed the unusualness of it and then looked into his dark, dilated eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I said quietly.

He laughed lowly, "So you weren't staring at me earlier when I was working out?"

I stuttered as we came face to face.

"You're stubborn but I feel like I know you," He placed his fingers under my chin, tracing up my jaw and to my ear where he tucked some of my hair behind.

"Because I've been looking at you, too." He whispered.

I practically melted and a whimper left my mouth, eyes rolling back.

He chuckled, "Already needy for me I see."

I looked up at him as his thumb swiped over my lips.

This whole situation was insane. I didn't even know how we got here. I didn't know how to feel, either. I had never been turned on like this before.

He slowly pushed his thumb into my mouth and I moaned around it, tasting his skin.

"Good girl." He praised, taking his thumb out and replacing it with his tongue.

I moaned again, feeling his lips on mine. His hands gripped my waist and I tangled my fingers into his hair.

He tasted of weed but I didn't mind it at all. He pushed me backwards until I hit the wall next to my bed. He gripped my hips tightly and I kept my hands in his hair. He must have gone for a shower since his workout because he smelled fresh and clean and his hair was damp.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was kissing a stranger. Who climbed into my room.

"Wait-" He pulled away briefly.

"Is your family home?" He asked.

"No, they're out all night." I answered breathlessly.

He smirked, "Good."

He suddenly lifted me up and I squealed, automatically wrapping my legs around his taut torso.

His tongue slipped between my lips again and I welcomed it. He lay me down on my bed and started to kiss down to my jaw and my neck.

I gasped and tugged his hair when he started kissing a certain spot on my skin. He got the message that I liked it and started licking and sucking on it. I arched my back slightly, moaning as he worked his tongue and lips on my skin.

He left the spot on my neck but kissed over my skin as he started to lift my jumper up. Panic and nerves suddenly settled in and I grabbed his hands, stopping his movements.

"You alright?" He asked breathlessly.

I swallowed, "I uh...I've never-"

His eyes widened, "You're a virgin?"

"No, no. I've had sex it just...it just wasn't that great." I bit my lip nervously.

He encased my lips in his and I relaxed to his touch.

"Do you want to?" He asked against my lips.

"Yes, fuck yes." I practically moaned into his mouth.

"I just need you to guide me through it." I said in between kisses.

He pulled away, "I can do that." He smiled.

He started to lift my jumper off and this time I let him. I sat up and he removed it, throwing it off the bed. He admired the pink bralette I was wearing and immediately pressed his lips and tongue to the valley of my breasts. He nipped and sucked on my skin and I moaned as he palmed one of my boobs while leaving marks on the other.

He came back up and kissed me again but flipped us over so I was now on top. He sat up and shuffled back against my headboard and pulled me onto his lap.

He brushed my hair off my shoulders and cupped my chin, taking me in.

"D'you wanna try riding my thigh?" He asked lowly.

I gulped, "S-sure."

He smirked and I straddled his left thigh, holding his shoulders.

"Just rock your hips back and forwa-"

"Fuck," I moaned, the rubbing of the different materials causing my core to clench.

"Does that feel good?" He asked, his breath fanning over my face.

His hands rested on my hips and he helped my movements.

"Feels so good." I moaned.

"Yeah? You like riding my thigh?" He prompted, his hands making me speed up.

I fisted the material of his shirt in my hands as my mouth fell agape with pleasure.

"Riding my thigh like such a good girl." He praised.

"Fuck!" I hung my head back, his words going straight to my core.

He chuckled cockily, "D'you like when I call you that? Huh?"

I nodded, too flustered with these new senses of pleasure to speak.

His hand travelled up into my hair and tugged on it by my roots. A louder moan than I would have liked escaped my lips.

"I asked you a question, answer me." He said sternly.

"Fuck! Yes, I love it when you call me that." I answered pathetically.

"Good girl." He praised, letting go of my hair and rocking my hips on him.

I felt an immense amount of pleasure build up and it felt as if something was going to snap in me.

"Oh shit, I- fuck!" I furrowed my brows in concentration and confusion.

"R'you gonna cum, darling?" He asked, almost shocked.

"I don't- fuck - know!" I moaned, feeling the knot inside my stomach about to snap.

But before that could even happen I was being flipped back onto my back and Tom was ripping off my shorts and panties, diving in between my legs with lust.

His hands held my thighs and brought me closer to him. His lips attached to my clit and sucked, giving me a whole new feeling.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!" I moaned shamelessly, tugging his hair and fisting the bedsheets.

"Go on, darling. Cum in my mouth for me. Taste so good. Please, love."

The mixture between his words and his nicknames for me and the fact his mouth was working wonders on my core completely sent me over the edge: an experience I had never had before.

"Holy shit! Tom! Yes!" I subconsciously tightened my thighs around his head and my hands practically pushed him completely onto me.

He continued riding me through my high until I unclenched my thigh and he pulled away slowly.

I lay breathless and in a state of shock and euphoria at the same time.

"You okay?" He asked soothingly, rubbing his hand over my bare thigh as he came up to kiss me.

"Yeah I've...I've never-"

"You've never came before?" Tom asked, baffled by me.

"Nope..."

He kept his eyes on me but slipped a hand down to my core again. I bucked my hips against his hand with a gasp as he moved his fingers in circles over my core.

"You've never even touched yourself?" He asked lowly.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

"You're so wet for me, darling, fuck." He cursed.

He suddenly dipped a finger into my core and I moaned. He curled it up and I gripped his arm tightly.

"What d'you want?" He asked.

"I want you, Tom, please." I bit my lip.

He smiled and sat back, his hand coming away from my clit, leaving me feeling empty. He shed his shirt and I finally got to look at his chiselled torso up close. He then slid his shorts and boxers off and my jaw dropped at the sight of him.

He was semi-hard but he was already bigger than my ex. A lot bigger.

He pumped his member in his hand, "You sure about this?"

I stuttered, completely distracted by his actions than his words.

"What? You like the look of it? Hmm? Wanna suck me off?" He asked, his hand cupping my chin and sliding his thumb into my mouth again.

I moaned at his words and nodded.

"You want to suck me off, darling? You sure?" He asked, removing his thumb.

"Yes, fuck Tom, I wanna suck you off." I moaned.

"Good girl." He praised.

We switched positions so he was sitting against the headboard and now I was in between his legs.

"I don't know how to..." I said shakily.

"You're okay," He gathered my hair up in his hands.

"Do whatever feels natural and I'll tell you if it's good, yeah?"

I nodded and gulped, moving my mouth closer to his member. I pumped him in my hand a few times and I could almost feel him harden right there. I had done this part before, at least.

I lowered my mouth onto him, swirling my tongue around his lip. He hissed slightly and gripped my hair tighter. I slowly let my mouth down on him and came back up.

"That's it, good girl." He praised.

I moaned and continued bobbing my head slowly on him, finding a rhythm. I held his thigh for support as I got faster, easing into it.

"Fuck, darling, feels so good." He groaned.

The taste of him in my mouth was amazing, pre cum already escaping onto my tongue.

I slackened my jaw and took as much of him as I could then pumped the rest in my hand.

"Holy shit! Fuck!" He held my head there and thrusted up.

His member hit the back of my throat but I didn't mind it at all. He made sure I was okay then did it again. And again. And again. Until he was continuously throat fucking me. I enjoyed it, surprisingly. The obscene sounds my mouth was making was not only making Tom more aroused, but also me.

I felt some drool drip down from my mouth onto my chin and even onto his lower stomach but I didn't care.

"Fuck, love those pretty little sounds coming from your throat, baby." He groaned.

I moaned, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"Such a good girl."

But then he pulled me off of him. I looked at him in confusion but he flipped me onto my back sooner than I could say anything.

"Need to be in you before I cum, princess." He said, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth.

"Ready?" He asked.

I felt his tip brush up and down my folds. I gripped his arms and nodded, closing my eyes to concentrate.

"Hey, look at me." He said.

I looked up into his gorgeous chocolate eyes.

"Breathe in," He instructed.

I did as he said.

"And out."

As I breathed out, he pushed into me slowly.

I moaned and arched my back at the feeling of him inside of me. His technique worked.

"You okay?" He asked caringly.

I nodded, biting my lip.

"You can move."

He started thrusting slowly in and out of me, my arousal making it a lot easier for him to move.

"So fuckin' tight, darling." He cursed.

I wrapped my thighs around his waist and he bottomed me out.

"Yes!" I moaned, my back arching so our chests were touching.

"Does that feel good?" He asked.

I hummed, "Faster, please."

He smirked, "As you wish."

His thrusts got gradually faster and my mouth hung open in a silent moan. He brushed past my g-spot with every movement and I scraped his back with my finger nails.

"So fucking good," I gasped.

He sped his thrusts completely and his head fell into the crook of my neck, leaving sloppy kisses on my skin.

"So big! Yes!" I moaned pornographically as he perfectly met my g-spot.

He reached a hand down and started rubbing my clit in skilful circles. I screamed out in overwhelming pleasure as I felt the now familiar feeling come back in my stomach.

"So good for me, darling. Been such a good girl. You gonna cum?" Tom whispered his praises into my ear.

"So close! Oh my god!" I curled my toes and dug my fingernails into his back.

"Come on darling. Feel so good around my cock. Feel so fucking good. You're a fucking angel, y/n. Fuck." He moaned.

I rolled my eyes back at his words. God his words.

"I'm gonna cum!" I squealed, eyes squeezing shut.

"Look at me when you cum, love."

I could hardly hear his voice anymore as I felt my second high approaching.

"I said-"

I gasped as I felt his hand around my throat, pressing the sides of my neck, activating some unknown pleasure button.

"Look at me when you cum all over my fucking cock." He grunted, his dark, dilated eyes staring into mine.

I kept my eyes on him as my high began to wash over me. His thrusts kept the same pace but his fingers moved faster, spurring my orgasm along.

"Yes! Fuck, feels so- yes!" I moaned.

I was extremely loud, I'm surprised the police hadn't come knocking asking about it.

My high seemed to be everlasting. Tom began to pull out but I kept my legs wrapped around him.

"Want you to cum in me, Tom. Please." I begged.

"You sure?" He asked, holding his orgasm back.

"Yes! Please! Need your cum in me." I moaned seductively against his lips.

"Fuck- so good for me- yes!"

I felt as he stilled in me, and as his cum painted my walls. His face contorted in levels of pleasure as he finished and I was finally coming down from my own high.

He pulled out after a second and collapsed next to me.

We both lay together, not saying a word, just listening to each other's breathing calm.

After a minute or two, he turned to face me.

"That- was so fucking good." He laughed.

"It was." I smiled back.

He reached a hand over to my face and brushed my hair behind my ear. I softened into his touch and hummed.

But that bliss was broken quickly.

"Hello?! We're home!"

I gasped, shooting up on my bed.

"Is that your mum?!" Tom whisper shouted.

"Yes! You need to go like now!" I whispered back.

He scurried off the bed and into his boxers and clothes, shakily putting on his shirt and attempting to put his shoes on quickly but leaving them untied.

I grabbed his backpack and handed it to him.

"Thank you," He smiled, taking it from me and heading for the window again.

He swung a leg out but then hesitated.

"Oh and uh-"

He held his hand out.

"I'm Tom, by the way." He grinned.

I smiled, shaking his hand.

"I'm y/n. Nice to meet you, neighbour."

"Nice to meet you, too." He winked, before climbing out the window, down the wall and back into his own house.

Nice to meet you indeed.

A/N: this is written for my amazing friend Caitlin and it's her birthday today! and she gave me all the details for this piece so i hope you guys enjoyed!

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smuts #Smut #tom holland smut #stoner au #innocent au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #fluff #ginny and marcus #oneshot

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