#Andrew Larson fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cuffmeinblack · 11 months ago

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2 for andrew or 8 for leander ehehehehehe

Last Chance

Andrew Larson x f!reader

“Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.”

Tags: explicit | drug use | sex | admission of feelings

2k words

A/n: Unexpectedly confident Andrew? Sure, why not. I need to stop writing smut when I'm sick. Thank you for the request m'love <3

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

Quite how you found yourself in the boathouse on the last night of term wasn't clear. It had likely been the only unoccupied place in the entire castle grounds. The astronomy tower had been claimed, as had most of the classrooms and even the greenhouses—a flash of ginger and rustling amongst the dittany had you rushing out of there before you saw anything that would require scrubbing from memory. It was cool despite the hot weather, the spray from the lake soaking every inch of the worn planks underfoot that flexed and creaked with every tentative step. None of this mattered, though, once you met Andrew's warm chestnut eyes that seemed to draw you in, quite literally. He was so close, so warm and solid and tempting. Expectation hung thick in the muggy air despite the very innocent request that you'd prefer to find somewhere quiet to talk, away from the raucous parties within the castle.

When Andrew finally broke the silence it was with small talk. “I can't believe it's really over.”

“I know. It's bittersweet, isn't it?”

You pulled a small tin out of your robe pocket, the Honeydukes logo scratched and worn from years of use. Andrew watched, likely expecting an offer of a sherbet, but inside lay a healthy stash of mallowsweet, already rolled and neatly packed. “Do you want one?” you asked, expecting an emphatic ‘no’ from the straight-laced Ravenclaw, but to your great surprise he nodded. You smiled and offered the tin, his delicate fingers pinching a cigarette and holding it awkwardly as far away from his body as humanly possible. “Would you do the honours?”

Andrew blinked and then withdrew his wand, producing a tiny flickering flame from the tip. The first drag warmed your throat and filled your chest, the potent mallowsweet working wonders to calm your nerves that you knew had everything to do with being here with Andrew. The man himself spluttered a little but got the hang of it after a while. The quietly stifled coughs and the way he tucked his hand under his opposite arm and shuffled about as if he had no idea how to stand was so endearing you might have kissed him then. You'd been saying as such for over a year, and now…now it was too late.

“I didn't think you'd take me up on the offer,” you admitted.

“Well, it is our last night, and I don't know how many opportunities I'll have to do so working for the Ministry.”

“You’re right, my money's on opium.”

Andrew's eyes widened and you chuckled and nudged him playfully.

“Is there anything you'll regret not doing before you leave this place?” he asked, suddenly serious.

You blew a stream of smoke into the air and tossed your stub to the ground where it fizzled, flame dying beneath your boot. The question was innocuous enough, but it was as if he'd read your mind, or perhaps correctly discerned why you both stood in the dank boathouse on a warm Summer's night. The truth had seemed far too risky to speak until now. The friendship you'd cultivated with Andrew was special; a fragile and beautiful thing that you couldn't bear to lose due to one unrequited admission. Besides, he was to relocate to London and you…well, you would be sent wherever Gringotts deemed necessary, tracing old rumours of forgotten treasures. You'd made peace with the fact; the nomadic lifestyle you'd expect from your chosen career path. Until now.

“There is one thing,” you replied vaguely, watching him closely. He leaned back against a wooden pillar and gazed down at the lapping waters that swayed the row boats with a faint and rhythmic clatter. To hell with it. “I regret not asking for more between us.”

He swallowed hard, and exhaled heavily. You weren't sure if he'd expected the answer or not, but either way it had unsettled him. When he looked up through the strands of dislodged ashen hair, your heart momentarily stopped. His pupils were blown, cheeks flushed the softest pink you'd ever seen. Everything around him grew hazy and dreamlike.

“Me too. I've been a bit of a coward, haven't I?”

He stepped closer now, salt spray unable to mask the scent of mallowsweet and patchouli. Maybe a hint of citrus.

“Maybe we both have been.” The mood suddenly shifted from awkward anticipation into something solemn and regretful. It really was too late. “We could have been good together, I think.”

Andrew sighed and slipped a hand around your waist, the movement sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. His nose brushed the tip of yours, lips parted and warm, shuddering breaths mingled for far too long. The tension was unbearable and your fingers were clasped so tightly into the cloth of his shirt it must have strained at the seams. He might have been considering his actions—how wise this was, the pros and cons of giving in, like a truly analytical Ravenclaw—or perhaps he was just too shy to close the distance.

“If you kiss me I don’t think I’ll want to stop,” you muttered. It might have been a warning, or maybe an enticement, but it was the truth. Another sharp inhale and a tighter grip, now Andrew’s lips hovered so close to your own there was barely space between to draw your own breath. There was something distinctly intimate about sharing each other’s air.

“Is that a promise?” His reply sent more than a shiver up your spine—it set your very nerves on fire, insides squirming and tension pooling. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you nodded, practically falling into the kiss that followed. Your back hit a wall soon after in the frantic and desperate entwining of bodies, as if a dam had exploded the moment your lips touched. One more chance to make a memory, one final hurrah. This was setting you up for heartbreak come morning, but none of that mattered now, not in this blissful moment when you finally got the answers to the questions of how Andrew tasted, what his body felt like pressed against you, how he kissed and touched and moaned (delicious, firm, enticingly, possessively, breathily). His mouth was at your throat and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. The way he encircled your waist to hold you in place, the gentle suction at your nape and the leg that slid between your thighs spoke of a confidence and experience you hadn’t expected.

“I can’t stand the thought of anyone else…,” you said before he slid you forward onto his thigh. The friction made you gasp his name, right into his waiting mouth.

“Don’t,” he breathed back.

His body had stilled except for the circles his thumbs pressed into your waist, and then he pulled back just enough to look at you. There was more than friendship, more than lust in that look.

“I wish we had done this last year,” you admitted.

“Would you still have taken the job as a cursebreaker?”

“I don’t know.”

He smiled sadly and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. “If tonight is all we have, let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.”

The words elicited such a visceral reaction you almost whimpered and you pulled him firmly by his shirt to close the distance between you. Your hand found his hair and gripped him tightly, letting the last of your inhibitions melt away with his kiss. Tears of longing fell behind closed lids, the pain of time wasted and what could have been driving you closer. Your fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons, the last two ripped away in a desperate need to feel his skin warm against yours. Andrew had already shrugged off your top layer with deft hands and was exploring the slope between neck and shoulder with his tongue. Words weren’t enough, so instead you concentrated on the frenzied merging of body and soul.

A large hand kneaded your breast as he groaned against your skin, and then you felt the unmistakeable hard length grinding against your hip. His name fell unbidden from your lips in a heady haze of arousal and sweet pleasure. His other hand had found its way between your thighs and was gently caressing the fabric of your undergarments. It wasn’t enough to relieve the throbbing ache, not at all, no matter how much you ground your hips against his fingers.

“Andrew, please...” You pleaded without shame, dipping your hand below the hem of your skirt to pull at your underwear and wriggle free with his help. His hand came back up to meet bare skin, then pressed further to find you wet and quivering.

“Fuck.” The expletive caught you off guard and was as shocking as Andrew having his fingers circling your clit. You let out a shuddering moan of relief as his slick digits began a rhythmic caress. You were vaguely aware of his cock nudging your hip again and his tongue sliding across yours between gasping moans. It was rather sloppy and entirely wonderful. Your fingers managed to unbutton his trousers whilst partially dazed and writhing with the sweet escalation of your climax. You felt the weight of him, his girth filling your hand. Then he let out an absolutely filthy moan once you started to stroke him.

“I need you inside me right now,” you commanded.

His fingers carried on their tight circles as he thrusted into your hand—as if he hadn’t heard you at all—until suddenly the pressure was gone and he retreated. As if he’d slapped you, your mouth fell open in shock and indignation until he spun you around, hands planted firmly against the wall. His cock slid between your cheeks whilst he spread your legs and pressed his chest against your heaving back, kissing every available inch of skin around your neck, jaw, forehead.

You braced yourself as you felt him nudge at your entrance, dripping wet against his twitching cock. Nails scraped the wall and gathered dirt beneath your nails and your head fell back against his shoulder as he pushed inside you. The stretch was gloriously satisfying, and once he’d filled as much as you could take, he turned your head to press his lips to yours. There was no time for second guessing, no question of turning back now.

Stars perforated your vision as soon as he started to move in earnest, withdrawing almost all the way before plunging back inside you, over and over again. He found your breasts again, massaging in time to each roll of his hips. Groans and gasping moans filled the cavernous structure, loud and completely unimpeded. His name, your name, begging for more and harder, faster, until you couldn’t stop the explosion that rattled your brains and turned your body to a limp mess. The orgasm tore through you, only barely aware of Andrew holding your neck as he pounded into you before shuddering and spilling his release, warm and wet and so copious it ran down your thigh. Your hand that looped around the back of his neck kept him close as the last pulses faded away. Not that he seemed interested in going anywhere; he held you tightly and murmured against your skin for quite some time.

It was so perfect you almost wept.

“Ask me to stay,” you said, quite unexpectedly.

A moment passed, silent.

“Stay. Stay with me.”

Perhaps it was the beautiful afterglow but when you looked back at your so-called friend you couldn’t say deny him. The thought of leaving felt unthinkable, the mere suggestion that you go your separate ways and love another was unacceptable. A great lump formed in your throat when you kissed him again, the terrifying truth that he meant more than the career you’d planned for yourself.

“Ask me again in the morning.”

“Will you change your mind before then?” he asked.

“No, but I like the illusion that it’s a hard decision.”

Andrew smiled, his shy demeanour returning despite still being buried inside you. It had started to rain, the gentle patter a soothing backdrop as you both cleaned up and dressed, slowly and with plenty of lingering gazes over one another. You saw warmth and affection reflected in his eyes. As he took your hand without question, you realised it was time to return to the festivities and revel in the fact that the entire trajectory of your life had just changed. Maybe it was reckless, but you supposed some things, some people were worth taking a chance on.

#andrew larson #andrew larson x reader #andrew larson fanfiction

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zetadraconis11 · 4 days ago

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Admirable Notes Series Art

A massive (and belated) thank you to @lyworth for doing this gorgeous commission for me!

This series is about Cael, Andrew, and Amit being a music idol group named Sidus, with Estelle being a pop star singer with them!

And Lyworth did a wonderful job making them soooo handsome and beautiful!

If you're interested in the series, be sure to check it out here!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy art #hogwarts legacy oc #Cael wilson #Estelle wilson #amit thakkar #andrew larson #idol au #Idol cael #Idol Andrew larson #Idol amit thakkar #Singer Estelle

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alibasnur · 8 months ago

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“I have never painted again. Since the world turned cold, sullen, and midnight blue from the day I lost you."

Andrew Larson x f!mc fic (Coming Soon)

Synopsis:

Andrew Larson had a first love when he was at Hogwarts. He opened a drawer with her letter inside. He thought that he had let her go wholeheartedly, but he was wrong.

#andrew larson #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy #wizarding world #hogwarts legacy mc #hl mc #hogwarts legacy fic #fanfic #fanfiction #wip

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polarisgreenley · 5 months ago

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A Bouquet of New Beginnings: Chapter 27 "Poinsettia"

Summary: Little things before winter break

Floriography: Merriment

Full Chapter: [AO3]//5.2k words

Excerpt below:

“Ready, Richard?”

“I’m always ready but, why by broom?”

Artemis mounted her Moon Trimmer. “Can ghosts go through floo flames?”

Richard lifted a finger with his mouth open as if to retort, then shrugged.

“Fair point. Alright, lead the way.”

“Libro.”

Sensory Balancing Charm in place, she kicked off the top of the Astronomy Tower with Richard in tow. The clouds had cleared to reveal a beautiful, starry winter sky, and her breath puffed white smoke as the wind bit her skin. The borrowed gloves clung to the broom handle as the thick, borrowed cloak billowed. There now lay a thick layer of fresh, white snow over the usual ground canopied in the dark green pine.

“Not that I’m ungrateful but, why are we going to do my funeral at two in the morning?”

Richard seemed to have no issue keeping up – that’s one less worry at least.

“Well. You said you preferred to do it at night when everyone was asleep ‘just like the good old days’, and I’d like to do this before winter holidays. Plus, I thought you could also help me with gathering some first snow.”

“Um. I feel honoured that you think me so alive but slight problem?” Richard passed his hand through her broom. “Not solid. Bit of a problem trying to pick things up.”

Artemis shook her head with a smile. Her borrowed scarf kept the sharpest edges of the winter wind at bay.

“I just wanted your company, Richard.”

“Oh!” Richard beamed. “Well why didn’t you just say so! Allons-y!”

At least it seemed like he picked up some French.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #a bouquet of new beginnings #artemis loreley #richard jackdaw #amit thakkar #everett clopton #andrew larson #garreth weasley #natsai onai #sebastian sallow

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jeongyunhoed · 8 months ago

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As seen on my FF.net Also seen on my Ao3

Following the events of fifth year, a new adventure awaits for Norah Lee. Boys, exams, school events, common room parties, and old foes outside of Hogwarts. Even battling pensieve guardians was easier than this.

Main Pair: OC/? Genre: Adventure/Angst/Fluff (it's a little of everything, tbh)

KEEP IN MIND: Characters are aged up (even if the story's got them in sixth year) to make it more appropriate. Time period is leaning towards the modern day so in case you might find anachronisms in the dialogue or references, this is why. This may also be quite a lengthy fic too.

BE WARNED: Social anxiety, mentions of blood and injury, grief, drinking, kissing but nothing more than that, death (this is Hogwarts Legacy, after all)

P.P.S: The more I write this, the more anxious I'm becoming because I usually write 10-chapter fics, but I'm kind of challenging myself to let the plot, the story in itself breathe a lot longer compared to before. I hope I'm doing okay though. I also referenced a spell that in the game canon, wouldn't exist until decades later. But whatever.

And I also kind of lied with this being the party chapter, sorry. We finally know who Nick is!

Masterlist

Chapter 10

As Norah learned, the secret passageway to Hogsmeade would be packed with students on the days of house parties. Prefects provided some cover, along with Gladwin Moon, who would assist in bringing in barrels of butterbeer to the school. If there were teachers that questioned, the cool Hogwarts caretaker would only brush it off as acquiring some flesh-eating slug repellents instead. After all, the One-eyed Witch passage was the only way they could bring in several other drinks and food from Hogsmeade back to Hogwarts without Black or any prissy student, prefect, portrait, gargoyle, or nearby house elf noticing much.

Hufflepuffs were lucky when it came to their parties. They need only take food from the kitchens nearby, with the house elves happily obliging, sometimes even to the point where they happily demanded they bring back more than what they needed.

She was on a little day trip to upper Hogsfield, noticing the old goblin encampment nearby had turned into a wide space where many of its residents held picnics, painted the scenery, and flew kites. After what was happening the entire week, she needed a little break from wandering about the castle. In a span of a year, so much had already changed.

"Ah! Norah! How have you been? Up to your ears with NEWT subjects?" Claire Beaumont, a local merchant whose brother she helped locate, greeted her when she approached. "People are still talking about you taking down Ranrok and his loyalists. You've become quite a heroine."

Norah smiled. "I've been alright, Ms. Beaumont. Just spending my weekend as usual. And yes, I've been up to my ears with all the homework," She said. "How are things?"

"Ah, well, relatively peaceful as usual. Since you took down the loyalist encampments and Ranrok, no ashwinder nor loyalist has set foot in these parts," Claire explained. "But, I do fear now that Harlow's back on the run, growing his followers, that things might go back to the way they were before you came in."

An opportunity to get back on the path to catching Harlow once again, she thought. With all the fuss over Professor Ronen's secret summoners and homework, she nearly forgot she was on the hunt for Harlow since his escape from Azkaban a month ago. "Ms. Beaumont, I don't suppose you haven't...heard of anything else regarding Harlow, have you?" She said, quietly enough that hardly anyone around them heard.

Claire seemed to get the idea of where Norah was coming from. "You're still so young and you're already having to do something no girl your age has to," She sighed. "But, I would advise you to stay away from Horklump Hollow and Spinners Cavern. I heard he's assembling some of his men and women in those places."

"What?" Norah knew of those two places, having ventured into both during fifth year. "Quite risky, assembling in there. They could've easily been killed."

"That's what I thought too," Claire nodded. "I reckon they've turned everything in there upside down and formed their own fortresses. It's too dangerous for you. You should just let the authorities take it from here. You've done enough, you needn't concern yourself with Harlow anymore."

She smiled and shook her head. "He will be after me regardless if I go to him or not, Ms. Beaumont. But you didn't hear it from me."

As she purchased a few potion ingredients, it was now making her think of what to do with Claire's information. She suddenly thought of what Sebastian and Ominis might be up to at the castle. They knew where she was, since she told them before apparating. Did she want to ask for Natty and Poppy's help? Could she get Amit to get down from the Astronomy tower for a moment?

Not wanting to attract too much attention, and also to keep anyone from getting suspicious about why she was there, Norah went to the small coffee shop a little past Claire's. It reminded her of Steepley & Sons, with the cozy interiors, flowery wallpaper and decorative plates. She ordered herself a coffee, thinking that by waiting, she'd come up with a plan.

Before leaving the castle, she finally took the chance to reply to "Nick." He was all she could think about since figuring it out. But even as she was sure it was him, anxiety crept in, questioning if she was certain it was who she thought it was. There was still a chance that it was someone else entirely.

Norah brought all the letters "Nick" sent with her during this little outing. The thought of possibly confirming her suspicions at the Gryffindor party that was going to happen in the night ahead seemed to make her anxious. Anxious in a way that she was looking forward to meeting the very boy who was giving her riddles and leading her to the secret dating spot in the Forbidden Forest she discovered in fifth year.

After paying for her drink, she left the shop. She didn't want to pull anyone else into what she planned to do while she casually left the hamlet. Yes, she was certain she needed to go at it alone. Until the nagging thoughts of what Professor Weasley told her, and of Sebastian, of Ominis, and of Natty, what the three of them have told her off for. This time around, she needed a reminder that she couldn't face everything on her own.

Especially when it might lead to her risking her life once again.

Norah groaned, torn between what she planned to do and what she also had to do. Taking another step forward in the direction of Horklump Hollow, she was still contemplating on whether or not to tell anyone she knew, at the very least, Claire and the widow Dorothy Sprottle. She needed to return in time to get ready for the party at the very least. They had all agreed to meet Natty by the Faculty Tower entrance.

Still undecided on whether to go alone or tell someone, Norah went ahead anyway, walking in the direction of the entrance of Horklump Hollow. She wondered how Harlow would manage to set up a base in there. It would be nothing more than an old troll dwelling, since the last time she ventured inside. As for Spinner's Cavern, however, not every spider was killed there. She wouldn't be surprised if the grounds of Spinner's Cavern would remain littered with more dead poachers and Ashwinders from spider bites and entanglements.

Maybe this could be her chance to continue practicing non-verbal spellcasting, especially after learning more spells in the past week. Including a few seemingly unsanctioned spells with Sebastian, one of which was quite bloody if cast correctly. The thought of using newly learned spells in a possible battle with more poachers and Ashwinders occupied Norah's mind the closer she got.

Unsurprisingly, there were some poachers keeping watch at the entrance of the cavern aptly named for having an abundance of horklumps. An Ashwinder ranger, known to be skilled in casting petrificus totalus, flanked by two others dressed in their yellow jackets.

She was about to take another step forward when she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Norah nearly yelled in surprise when she saw the faces of none other than Sebastian, Poppy, and Cressida. Sebastian and Poppy in particular, were looking at her as-a-matter-of-factly. "Bloody Merlin, you almost gave me a heart attack," She slapped Sebastian's arm.

"We couldn't let you follow a lead on your own, you know," Poppy pointed out, although the wide grin on her face seemed to suggest she was unsurprisingly preoccupied.

"A lead? Are you following Harlow?" Cressida questioned, making the three of them shush her. "Sorry," She whispered. "If you were wondering, I accidentally summoned Sebastian's name. I was supposed to summon someone else."

Sebastian looked incredulous, while Norah bit back a laugh as did Poppy. "That was mean, but I appreciate the effort, I guess."

"Sorry," Cressida mumbled. "So, how can I help the three of you?"

"You're just as brilliant at non-verbal spells anyway. I'm afraid we're up for a little game of cat and mouse," Norah explained. "Ever been to Horklump Hollow, any of you?"

"You told us about that," Poppy said. "You had to take down a troll in there. But what's so special about Horklump Hollow? Aside from all the horklumps?"

"Claire Beaumont told me that Harlow and his cronies are turning this and Spinner's Cavern into their own forts, out of sight so no authorities can raid them, probably," Norah explained, looking back at the entrance. "Why would they want to take over two places that are undoubtedly so dangerous? I reckon there are still hundreds of spiders being bred in the other cave."

"Spiders?" Cressida looked horrified. "Trolls? Harlow? We could be killed in there."

"You think it's time to bust inside that cave?" Sebastian asked. "Say the word, Norah."

Norah wasn't sure. "We're just going to take a better look, see if what people in Upper Hogsfield have suspected are correct. I don't think anyone's been inside Horklump Hollow for a while."

The four of them quietly went down the path towards the cavern. A pack of dark mongrels were wandering nearby. Not wanting to deal with those, they obscured themselves with the disillusionment charm, doubled with the invisibility potion Norah handed each of them. Fully unseen, they approached the entrance. Sebastian and Norah led the way, petrifying everyone standing by until they fell to the ground, completely frozen.

They entered the cavern, hearing a commotion coming from the light at the end. The closer they got, they saw that the suspicions were correct. It wasn't clear how long, but the open space, where the troll cage used to be, was cleared out and turned into somewhat that of a headquarters. Trunks of treasures and other sorts were strewn around, and the mound of concrete and debris Norah remembered having to climb over to get to the passage going out was cleared out, with makeshift stairs and ramps in place.

The gap that Norah remembered having to jump over was since covered with planks. "How oddly considerate," Poppy muttered as they pressed on, walking over the planks until they approached the slope. "This place used to be a dungeon, from the looks of it."

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed, sticking close to Norah while they led the way, "Nature seems to have a way of taking what's theirs, from how run down everything is."

"There's no other way to go but down," Norah told them. "If we want to move forward, we'll be surrounded by these poachers and ashwinders. We'll need to find out more, we can't do anything just yet. Let's go back."

"With Victor Rookwood gone, how many other Ashwinders left are now working for Harlow."

They heard someone say from above. The four of them stopped. It was a group of Ashwinder scouts, most of their faces obscured by the masks they wore, with exception of their eyes.

"That child ruined everything we've worked for. We could've had it all. We could've had all the galleons in the world," Another one said, making Sebastian and Norah exchange looks. "Children should be seen and not heard, Victor Rookwood always used to say that."

"We'll be back and running soon enough, once we've cleared out this stinkhole of a place. Drain the waters, and maybe connect this to the other cavern," A third Ashwinder scout said, only to be met with slaps. "Ouch!"

"Once we recruit more to our cause, we'll have enough firepower to restart our empire. Breed dugbogs and kappas or something like that. And then, maybe kidnap a few people as an insurance policy. If that child knows what's good for her, she won't dare do anythin' to them."

"Why take those when we can get the child herself? Those seem like a waste of time."

"Yeah. Show her the meaning of pain. Inflict a cruciatus curse or two, torture her until she goes insane, that one."

Norah, Sebastian, Cressida, and Poppy quietly backed further into the entrance of the hollow. Removing the disillusionment charm, they went to what was once the loyalist encampment near the stream. "Bloody hell, they're after us, they're after you," Cressida panicked.

"They're planning on breeding more dangerous dugbogs?" Was what Poppy took away from the conversation they overheard. "And what else? Continue Horntail Hall?"

"They're planning on kidnapping people," Sebastian muttered. "Especially you."

Norah studied their expressions. All of whom looked worried, concerned, and in Sebastian's case, a little annoyed at what they had just overheard. If they planned on doing those things. As far as they knew, Harlow's army would connect Horklump Hollow to Spinner's Cavern, perhaps through the use of goblin-made drills or even bombs. It was unclear whether she, Fig, and the teachers succeeded in taking down every last goblin loyalist in the caverns of the school.

There seemed to be one way to find out. "If they plan on doing what they say they're doing, then we're in for quite a search," She said.

When it came to common room parties, it was an excuse for the girls to show up in less than formal party attire. Norah, as well as Natty and Poppy all decided to get dressed in the Room of Requirement, which also provided them with some makeup to put on, out of wanting to really enjoy the night. As Norah was more familiar with what muggles tend to do at house parties, from the movies she had seen, she helped Natty and Poppy with their looks, while they changed into their outfits.

"Andrew says he'll be meeting me at the Transfiguration courtyard," Poppy said excitedly, stepping out from behind the changing partition in a yellow dress, in keeping with her house colors.

"Henry and I agreed to meet there too," Natty added, sporting a simple red blouse and jeans. The red blouse was part of her traditional wear in her home country. "We can go there together. What about you, Norah? Did you meet 'Nick' yet?"

Oh right, Nick. Norah was dressed in an emerald green high-neck blouse under a black leather jacket and a denim skirt that went a little above her knees. Her wavy brunette locks were tied in a ponytail, some parts of it curled thanks to a spell Natty knew when it came to styling hair. Parts of Poppy's light brown tresses were also curled while the Gryffindor herself let some strands of her hair fall in front of her eyes.

"I haven't, I'm sure he'll make himself known to me at the party itself. He might even be helping set up the party, don't you think?" Norah grinned, putting on very light makeup in front of the mirror.

The two girls giggled, going off into a conversation about the two boys they were to meet. Norah smiled to herself. Looks like sixth years in the wizarding world weren't that different from muggles in the same year. Especially when it came to possible romance. It was almost as if they didn't risk their lives in Horklump Hollow earlier.

Once they were ready, they left the Room of Requirement, already seeing some of their fellow students dressed much casually, passing by every now and then. Amit, in particular, had just come down from the Astronomy tower after a few hours of stargazing. He too, was also dressed to enjoy the festivities that lie ahead in the common room.

"Wow, the three of you look great," A blush appeared on the Ravenclaw's cheeks. "Andrew's already at the courtyard waiting for you, by the way, Poppy. Shall we go? Where's Sebastian and Ominis?"

"Probably back at the common room," Norah replied, although she knew Sebastian would be in the Undercroft. As for Ominis, she wasn't sure. Having heard him talk about gillyweed earlier, she suspected he might be in the greenhouses trying to see if Professor Garlick kept some. She wasn't even sure if Ominis planned to go to the party, in the midst of getting preoccupied with what was in front of her.

The four of them walked down the staircase, passing by Arthur Plummly along with the girl he had secretly summoned. Nevertheless, Norah went with the three of them all the way down to the Transfiguration courtyard. Henry and Andrew were caught up in conversation until they stopped upon seeing Natty and Poppy. Both boys had the biggest smiles on their faces, something Norah was happy to notice.

"Don't be surprised if you see Poppy in your common room, Amit," She teased, and the blush reappeared on his cheeks at the thought, making her snicker.

"Hello Norah, Amit," Henry and Andrew acknowledged their presence. "You look beautiful, Hogwarts heroine."

The sudden compliment took her by surprise, and she just shook her head. "I tried," She said.

"She's always been so humble," Natty pointed out with a chuckle. "Even when she won Crossed Wands."

"Beginner's luck?" Norah shrugged, making them laugh. "Well, I guess I'm off to find Sebastian and Ominis. Amit, we can go to the greenhouses, there's a chance Ominis might be there as well as Samantha," She said.

The assertion seemed to make Amit's already ruddy cheeks even ruddier. Not wanting to say more, he gave a wave to the four before following Norah to the Central Hall. They passed through the crowds of students gathering by the fountain and sitting around, some of whom were waving at them as they went through the doors that led to the greenhouses.

"You haven't met your summoner yet?" Amit suddenly asked as they climbed down the staircase.

Norah shook her head. "Haven't received a letter from him either. Perhaps I'll see him at the party itself."

"He's being mysterious until now, eh?" Amit chuckled as they looked around for a sign of the two. He easily found Samantha, who was sitting on the nearby bench. "Wow, you look beautful," He sputtered.

Samantha grinned. "You look just as dashing yourself," She said. Catching sight of Norah, she waved. "See you and your "Nick" later."

Norah smiled. "Have you seen Ominis?"

"Oh, he's downstairs over there," Samantha pointed to the tree at the very end. "Watch your step. We'll see you."

As the pair walked off, Norah climbed down the stairs that led to the room where several othe plants and weeds were kept. There Ominis was, waving his wand around trying to find the gillyweed she remembered him talking about. But Ominis looked quite different, a little more casual especially when a lock of his blonde hair went a little out of place, sticking out over his forehead. With a dark green dress shirt under - to her surprise - a leather jacket. He looked especially handsome.

"Feeling rebellious, Gaunt?" She teased, making the blonde stop looking, his sentient wand pointed at her.

Ominis tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Did Sebastian put you up to wearing a leather jacket?" She continued. "This isn't something the rest of us see everyday. Especially of you, a Gaunt."

"O-oh," He sputtered, cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. "I thought I'd try something new for a change. Parties didn't seem to interest me much, but I am willing to give it a go now."

"Well, you look really handsome," Norah paused. "Nick."

There it was. She said it. Ominis froze. He felt his heart skip a beat at the name she called him. "...At last, you've figured it out," A smile crept up on his lips.

"I had a feeling it was you, possibly from the very first note you sent me," She said. "The only other person who would know about that secret date spot in the Forbidden Forest would be someone the likes of you."

"Family secret, I'm afraid. Goes back to when Apollonia Black and Richard Jackdaw first dated," Ominis explained, slowly gaining some confidence. "Another secret aunt Noctua told me about before she ventured into the Scriptorium."

Norah smiled. "And the riddles always seem to mention eyes, seeing, or not being able to see, or telling a close friend the answer to those riddles. It kind of led me to think maybe you summoned my name."

Should he tell her? Should now be the time? Ominis needed to make a decision and fast. "Well I didn't want to have to spend the entire week writing to someone else," He blurted out.

"Well, I didn't know you wrote poems," Norah teased. "How did you come to learn about Nick and Nora Charles? Aside from me telling you?"

That was a detail she was curious about him knowing. "One time in the library, Sebastian noticed a book that fell out of your bag."

"Oh," She mouthed. "You remembered that, huh?"

"Hasn't Sebastian told you? I have the memory of an elephant."

Norah laughed at the comparison. "No he hasn't. I guess we haven't talked enough to know those details."

"I suppose not," Ominis said quietly. Not wanting to let a silence ensue over them, he cleared his throat and looked aound. "I was actually here looking for gillyweed."

Norah went up to him, linking her arm with his, taking him by surprise. "I can tell you all about what I saw from the merpeople in fifth year."

Ominis looked flabbergasted as he allowed himself to be led back up the staircase. "You what?!"

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy angst #ahogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #amit thakkar #andrew larson #garreth weasley #leander prewett #natsai onai #poppy sweeting #imelda reyes

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shingodzilla98 · 10 months ago

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New vid out! Potions gets a surprise substitute teacher…

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFPN8AD/

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betheckart · 10 months ago

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Fanfiction

So here goes, I've been meaning to do this post for a while, so now it's done.

First, the first fanfiction with Beth Eckart (English and French versions). Undetermined couple, I'm waiting to see how things develop In the shadow of our ghosts.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/358017122-in-the-shadow-of-our-ghosts

https://www.wattpad.com/story/358017491-a-l%27ombre-de-nos-fant%C3%B4mes

Secondly, the second fanfic with Gideon Smith (English and French versions). Andrew Larson x MC male The breath of our soul.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/362007542-the-breath-of-our-soul

https://www.wattpad.com/story/362006815-le-souffle-de-notre-%C3%A2me

Beth will have two chapters a week, on Wednesday and Sunday. As for Gideon, I'm waiting until I have a few chapters ahead of me and for the moment I'm writing about him when I feel like it, so it's still irregular.

So there you have it, I hope you enjoy reading it.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ravenclaw #andrew larson #hufflepuff #garreth weasley #wizard world

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dracoslittleangel · 3 years ago

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Just finished Tick, tick...BOOM!

AND HELP-PLEASE

I AM SOBBING SKSKS😭😭😭😭

Jonathon Larson's life,It seems so-unreal..

Almost seems like a made up emotional film.

I MEAN EVERYTHING WENT WRONG IN HIS LIFE AND WHEN SOMETHING GOOD WAS ABOUT TO HAPPEN, HE WASNT THERE TO WITNESS IT?

IM SIMPLY SPEECHLESS.

Hats off to Jonathon Larson(and Andrew Garfield for portraying him so well)

#ticktickboom #tick tick boom #ticktick...boom #andrew garfield #andrew garfield fanfiction #jonathonlarson #jonathon larson #rent #superbia

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girl-named-matty · 10 months ago

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Sharing a bed with the Boys (Amit and Andrew edition 💙)

Sharing a bed with the boys. Tags: Fluff, Sharing a bed, gn!reader, Amit x Reader, Andrew x Reader. (Also barely proofread) Rating: General Audiences. ..

Summary: My Headcanons for sharing a bed with Amit and Andrew!

Amit:

Was extremely taken aback when you asked him if you two could start sharing a bed. Probably started to sweat to be honest.

Was very hesitant before eventually giving in.

Although for the first little while he made it very clear that he had his side of the bed. It wasn’t anything personal, it just made it easier for him.

But one morning, he woke up with you right up against him but instead of him moving away he found out he actually enjoyed it.

You were honestly confused for the next couple of nights as to why he seemed so cuddly after that.

But he was an only child with working parents so affection didn’t come naturally. So when he discovered it he loved it.

Will quite literally sleep in any position with you as long as you guys are touching in some way.

Literally the cutest boy. ..

Andrew:

Honestly probably the most casual about it out of all the boys.

You two have been committed to each other for quite some time, you trust each other, and everything is fine so, why not?

You two sleep together in this sort of intertwined position. You just like being close to one another and it gives you the best sleep.

He's a sucker for laying his head on your chest and hearing your heartbeat. It's just so comforting.

Although he doesn’t give me morning-person vibes so have fun getting him out of bed in the morning.

He probably stays up late studying. But when he’s super tired from it he’s out like a light.

He also has pretty bad bed-head so that’s always a cute sight to wake up to in the morning.

And when you’re not there he’s definitely hugging the pillow to his chest. ..

Here you are! Sorry Andrew's was so short this is my first time writing for him but I hope to do more for him in the future. 💙 Taglist: @pufflehuffing, @rypnami, @lucky-cleric, @siren-of-slytherin, @uniyppy. @jeniffler

#hogwarts legacy #hl #Amit Thakkar #Andrew Larson #Hogwarts legacy boys #Hogwarts legacy headcanons #Amit Thakkar headcanons #Andrew Larson headcanons #Amit Thakkar x reader #Andrew Larson x reader #Andrew Larson fanfiction #Amit Thakkar fanfiction #fluff #hogwarts legacy fandom

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cuffmeinblack · 11 months ago

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Unabridged

Andrew Larson x f!reader

Tags: explicit | masturbation | slight voyeurism

1.6k words

Summary: Andrew's bedtime reading and his roommate's distracting activities lead to something shamefully inevitable.

A/n: I told myself I wouldn't write anymore smut until I finished a chapter of Veil yet here I am. Just one little drabble. I suppose this could be taken as the smut I never wrote for Between the Lines.

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

Whilst he more often than not became somewhat flustered whilst reading novels such as the one currently balanced precariously on his hardened length, he didn't usually feel quite so unravelled as in that moment. The story was thoroughly filthy, detailing from a witch's point of view being seduced and defiled by a handsome vampire in her own marriage bed. Somewhere around the part where various bodily fluids were exchanged, Andrew had truly noticed his predicament. He lay his head back against the headboard to stare up at the wooden slats above his head, but the gentle, rhythmic bowing did nothing to alleviate his lustful thoughts. He abandoned the text altogether and watched the subtle shift of the mattress and the flap of the curtains for a while, ignoring the throbbing in his trousers. It wouldn't go away. His skin burned and his clothes felt so suffocating he wanted to rip them to shreds. Blood raged as his pulse quickened, breaths came short and ragged as if his lungs had forgotten how to process the air.

Some distractions were harder to ignore than others. External stimuli could be blocked out with a well placed dampening charm or a simple pair of earmuffs. The creaking of the bed above him, for example, was all part and parcel of being a Ravenclaw. Bunk beds. Awful invention, completely unnecessary given the ample proportions of the room. Clearly whoever had furnished them had been well aware of their ability to rob the occupants of any modicum of privacy, but teenagers being what they were, that didn't necessarily stop his roommates from sneaking their sexual conquests back into the dormitory for a little fun. Right above his head. But this he could cope with, if he ignored the way the bed jolted slightly every now and then. Then there was the fact that his mattress lay beside a window and the curtain didn't quite wrap all the way around, leaving his body silhouetted amongst the glow of his Lumos charm, completely exposed to the night sky. Another inconvenience, but unless there was someone flying outside the tower past curfew, it seemed inconsequential and not worth his time to worry about. No, the most distracting thing he currently had to deal with whilst trying to read his book wasn't a sound, a sight or even a smell; it was the uncomfortable pinching sensation currently residing below his waistband as his cock strained against his leather belt.

Perhaps it would be a surprise to learn that Andrew Larson of all people—prim and proper and thoroughly virginal—enjoyed reading literature of a more risqué variety. Not all the time, mind you. He was quite happy with the classics, ancient and beyond, and more modern works such as Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray which had left him bewildered and quite speechless. It was after these that he enjoyed what might be termed a palate cleanser—something altogether easier to digest, devoid of the kind of emotional turmoil that might upset one's stomach. A pleasurable romp. He might not shout about such things at his book club meetings but if asked, Andrew would simply explain his reasoning and point out that every work of literature has its merits and to deprive oneself of the broad spectrum of genres is only to one's own detriment. In other words, don't be such a snob.

Andrew shuffled down a little into a slouch, gripping the sheets with one hand and hesitantly gripping his wand in the other. A flick of his wrist lifted the dampening charm he'd encased himself in, sound finally trickling back into his canopy. Apparently his roommate hadn't bothered with a silencing charm, or it had since worn off, because Andrew could hear everything. His cheeks flushed even brighter with shame but he didn't recast his charm, instead stashing his wand with the book next to him on the mattress. The couple above him were really going for it; breathless and moaning softly into the still night. Andrew's breath shuddered slightly as he closed his eyes and let the wet slap of skin and delicately musky scent envelop his senses. His chest heaved beneath the cotton of his shirt, fingers idly picking at the buttons to free himself of the fabric constraints. He thought of the book he'd read, the forbidden nature of it all; he thought of the unknown girl above him and her gentle whimpers; and most of all he thought of replicating that carnal passion with the object of his desires. She would moan most prettily of all, all soft skin and delicate curves beneath his roaming hands. He wanted every part of her in every conceivable way, yet so far he'd succeeded only in being a coward. Instead of telling her how he felt (or a rather more savoury, abridged version), Andrew had taken to living out fanciful daydreams in his head. He should be thoroughly ashamed of himself, and he was, yet that gnawing guilt paled in comparison to the raging hunger growing in his chest, for the woman who'd lent him that damned book, no less.

He could barely hear the cacophony of lewd sounds over the pounding in his ears, yet the slap, slap, slap was still audible and driving him slightly mad. He was vaguely away of his bare torso as he felt a prickle of moisture cooling on skin and he looked down past the wire rims of his glasses to nearly groan in despair. His impossibly hard erection had forced its way past his belt, twitching angrily against the pale smattering of ashen hair that trailed to his navel. His cockhead glistened, the source of that wetness now apparent in the dim light from the landscape beyond his window. He couldn't very well ignore it now, as painful and angry looking as it was. With a sigh of annoyance that masked his relief, he unbuckled himself with increasingly shaky fingers. Whatever hormones were at work had sent him into a frenzy, desperately craving release no matter what the consequences—and there would be consequences, whether it be the inability to look his roommate or the woman he longed for in the eye again, or the very real possibility that he might just lose his mind along the way and finally admit his feelings, for the sliver of hope that it might one day be her hand wrapped around his cock and not his own.

Andrew rolled his hips, clenching his muscles to drive upwards into his waiting hand. Fingers wrapped tightly around himself, slick with desire. He followed the rhythm already present in the stifling air, the slap, slap, slap that seemed to stutter with a shift of weight and resume with a more furious pace amid breathy moans. They weren't her moans, though, and they served only to irritate Andrew more than entice him. He picked up his wand to cocoon himself in quiet once again, letting his own imagination lead the way. That was all he needed, really; the thought of her. This time she rode him, exquisitely soft thighs clamped around his hips, jiggling with every bounce on his cock. He squeezed his fingers. You're so tight, he imagined himself sighing as her dazzling smile filled his vision and she moaned in response. Faster he stroked himself, copious amounts of precum filling his palm and easing his way. She would feel infinitely better, softer and wetter, and it could all be for him. Andrew whimpered into the dark before he could control the impulse and his eyes flared wide, but the bed still shifted with the weight above him and had no intention of stopping.

He was getting close to his inevitable release, half torn-off clothes shoved roughly around his body which glistened with sweat. Gasping and groaning through every pump of his fist, he thought of her tossing her head back in ecstasy as she met her own tremendous climax. All for him. She was beautiful in his mind's eye, even if her naked body was comprised entirely of glimpses he'd had of the soft curves beneath her uniform. Andrew let his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose and hair fall over his eyes as he writhed in pleasure, bucking wildly into his hand until finally he came. His palm flew to his mouth to muffle the groan that clawed its way up his throat; his final cry was lost to the clammy crevices as he pushed down hard on his lips. He felt his release coat his other hand, every knuckle stained in shame and primal want. Even his shoulder wasn't spared. By the time the pulsing subsided and the ringing in his ears had stopped, all was quiet but for the deep breaths both from his own chest and above him in the bunk beds.

He cracked his eyes open and stared up at the slats again, further away this time now he'd somehow ended up horizontal on the bed in a great dishevelled mess, limbs contorted and wrapped in various tangled garments. His hand wrapped around him released, sticky and warm, and eyes followed the trail of his release to the book that lay next to his arm. The black book cloth was ruined, stained. It seemed rather fitting, in a grotesque sort of way. Suffice it to say, he would not be taking that particular edition back to the hidden shelves of the book club’s library. He'd make some excuse and tuck it away somewhere safe, perhaps rip the binding from its case and burn it. No matter what he did, though, he would still remember this; the unexpectedly desperate need; the complete and utter lack of control when it came to her. Whilst he lay half-naked and dizzy in his bed, Andrew vowed to finally summon the courage to tell her how he felt, though the unabridged version of this truth could wait until later.

#andrew larson #andrew larson fanfiction

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busdriver · 3 years ago

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Hello friends! I have just returned to tumblr after being inactive for years and therefore need some people to follow. If you post about these things or know a good blog that does, please give me a comment or like and I will check you/them out!

but please no fanfiction blogs, I have nothing against it I just don't wanna read it

Movies/TV:

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (also someone please let me know the most frequently used tagged for this)

Umbrella Academy

Community

Preacher

Future Man

Jonathan Larson-related things (Rent, Tick Tick Boom, obscure demos idk)

Arrested Development

Mythic Quest

Julie and the Phantoms

Aggretsuko

Marvel in general but I haven’t seen most of the tv shows yet so I don’t want blogs that revolve around those. I'm a basic bitch so my favorites are Spider-man and Black Panther

Actors:

Jordan Fisher

Andrew Garfield

Nick Robinson

Alexandra Shipp

Zendaya

Music:

Raleigh Ritchie/Jacob Anderson

Mother Mother

Silk Sonic

Wallows

I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

McFly

Bo Burnham

Phantom Planet/Alex Greenwald

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polarisgreenley · 1 year ago

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A Bouquet of New Beginnings Chapter 11: "Amaryllis"

Floriography - Determination

Summary: Snippets of Artemis' second week of school - the good, the bad, and the nightmare.

[AO3]

Below is an excerpt of the chapter, full chapter can be viewed from the AO3 Link above!

“So, I heard that you’re quite the covert little thief.”

Artemis paused her quill as she lifted her head. Sebastian and Ominis had been doing their assigned Charms essay, and she her extra assignments, in relative silence for the past half hour in the tucked away corner of the library until Ominis broke the silence.

“Oh?” Artemis asked as she pointedly looked at Sebastian. He was the only source that could’ve possibly said anything to Ominis.

Sebastian had the audacity to give an innocent smile.

“Oh indeed. Something about a padlock and a cat? A traipse into the Re-”

“-Oi! Not so loud,” cut in Sebastian. Ominis rolled his eyes as his head tilted back toward her.

“Just hadn’t expected you to be so brazen already with the rules,” paused Ominis. “Well done.”

Artemis had opened her mouth to make a counterargument, only to shut it in the unexpected praise. In contrast, Sebastian’s jaw dropped.

“What? So I get scolded when I go, but Artie gets a compliment? I see how it is.”

Ominis snickered at his friend’s expense.

“She doesn’t barge into our room with erumpent stomps at two in the morning, Sebastian. Though I am curious as to what you could possibly need. You’ve been here less than two weeks.”

Artemis was saved from answering the question as a sneering voice came from her left.

“Well, who do we have here? All alone and – oh, Gaunt. Sallow.”

Their table was at a strange angle that provided blind spots – clearly, Alistair had thought she’d been alone. The change in his tone was drastic, as the moment he saw the two boys his demeanour completely changed.

Sebastian glared daggers and Ominis’ expression was a carefully controlled brand of neutral.

“Avery. Care to finish what you were saying?” Sebastian asked dangerously.

“No, no I think I’ll take my leave,” said Alistair diplomatically.

“Do,” said Ominis as he slowly turned. Alistair’s hand balled into a fist, glared at Artemis once before he stomped away.

“Git,” spat out Sebastian before he turned to Artemis. “How’d you have the misfortune of meeting him?”

“Poppy and I stopped him from pulling on Persephone’s whiskers,” answered Artemis.

“Still petty I see. Can’t believe he’s the same year as us,” sighed Ominis.

“He seemed intimidated.”

“He should. I’d gladly fry him crispy,” huffed Sebastian.

“More my last name than me,” corrected Ominis. He looked like he bit a bitter bug. “Descendant of Salazar Slytherin, my father being friends with the headmaster. The Gaunt name has its… uses, despite the unfortunate run of pureblood mania.”

Slytherin has a bunch of pureblood supremist bigots, not to mention families associated with the Dark Arts. The Malfoys, the Blacks, the Lestranges, the Gaunts.

“The headmaster has friends…?” Artemis asked instead, perplexed at the concept.

Sebastian choked on air as he quickly muffled his laughter into his elbow; Ominis’ shoulders shook as he controlled his. Madam Scribner gave the group a warning glance as she walked by on her patrol.

“Artie, did you hear back from your contact?” Sebastian asked after it was clear the librarian had left their vicinity.

“Contact?” Ominis asked, his head giving a slight jerk.

Artemis looked between Ominis and Sebastian; the brunet nodded as Artemis let out a soft breath.

“They said they’d need to review their contract for the finer details first,” said Artemis. She’d hoped Leto would have responded back before telling Sebastian, but alas. “But, tentatively yes.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked, his eyes brightened. In contrast, Ominis’ features darkened.

“Contract?” Ominis repeated back.

“Artie has a Healer contact in the Ministry. Said she’d reach out regarding Anne.”

“A Healer? Wait, you told her about Anne?”

“I was getting her a –” started Sebastian before he stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. “Never mind, yes, I told Artie about Anne.”

“Why?”

“She’s my sister, I can tell whomever I like.”

Ominis hummed, though his expression didn’t ease as he looked at Artemis.

“Rather generous of you,” said Ominis. His jaw was set.

“Ominis,” Sebastian started, surprised.

Ominis tilted his head toward her; Artemis’ heart sank. She’d not felt this since Chalvey. Palpable mistrust, clear suspicion.

“So? Why are you helping?”

“Because I want to.”

She managed to keep her voice controlled. It was understandable, why he would be like this.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Because she didn’t want history to repeat itself… but nobody else needed to know that.

“You’re lying,” retorted Ominis. “What do you gain from this?”

Her throat tightened. Sebastian’s warm chocolate eyes hardened toward his best friend.

“Ominis, stop it -”

“- Is treating someone the way you wanted to be treated so unbelievable?”

The soft, wobbled words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She hadn’t intended to say that, not really.

Her hands moved quickly as both boys were stunned; Ominis’ eyebrows furrowed rather quickly afterward.

“Excuse me,” muttered Artemis as she pulled out her wand, the rest of her items haphazardly in her arms. She muttered a quick disillusionment.

“Artie, wait!”

“Mr. Sallow! This is the library!”

Madam Scribner’s shrill warning rang loud behind her as she slunk away into the green floo flames.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #a bouquet of new beginnings #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #andrew larson #eleazar fig #aesop sharp #artemis loreley

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imetyouonljpodcast · 3 years ago

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I MET YOU ON LJ: A Fandom Podcast

Episode #057: We Have to Go Back

Waaaaalt! In this episode, Maggie and V take a trip further back down memory lane than they've ever gone before and talk about fandoms they participated in before they really got into internet fandom (or before there was an internet at all). V waxes poetic about American Girl, and Maggie tells stories about Lost viewing parties. Plus, spoiler-free excitement over Spider-Man: No Way Home and The Matrix Resurrections.

This Episode Covers…

fandom • fanfiction • fan clubs • in-person fandom • full house • american girl • pleasant company • third grade pioneer units! • living history museums • arts and crafts • felicity merriman • samantha parkington • kirsten larson • molly mcintire • american girl fanfiction • have you ever met this little girl? she’s so intense • lost (2004-2010) • character storytelling vs plot • sayid jarrah is the loml • naveen andrews • charlie pace • philosophy • full season marathons • longing and reunions • ib theory of knowledge • week-by-week television • internet fandom history • spider-man: no way home (2021) • the matrix resurrections (2021) • keanu reeves, of course.

LISTEN and SUBSCRIBE wherever you get your podcasts!

Make sure to follow I Met You On LJ on your favorite social media:

PATREON: patreon (dot) com/imetyouonljpodcast FACEBOOK: facebook (dot) com/imetyouonljpodcast TUMBLR: @imetyouonljpodcast INSTAGRAM: imetyouonljpodcast TWITTER: imetyouonljpod

#fandom #fanfiction #american girl #pleasant company #lost #samantha parkington #sayid jarrah #spider man #spiderman #the matrix #episode

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berrymoos · 2 years ago

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Heheh, I have returned>:D I hope you had a good week! If you don't mind me asking, what's your favorite book/show/movie? All my love you wonderful human<333

-🦊

OMG FOX ANON HI EHE (≧∇≦)/ my week's been surprisingly pretty uneventful up until friday - we went to dinner bc my brother's bday is tmrw!! (actually today bc it's 1:13am at the time of writing hdkehfekhd) there's a scheduled block party for unrelated reasons but we're kinda using that as his party, if that makes sense?? it's gonna be busyyy n there r gonna be sooo many ppl (-ω-；) but i hope yooou had a good week as well <3

as for my favorite book? aaaa ,, tbh i don't know the last time i read smth that wasn't fanfiction 💀 that's lowkey a little embarrassing to admit, BUT THAT'S OKAY! uhh as a kid (like 4th / 5th grade age), i rlly liked the warrior cats & wings of fire series tho!! fun fact i actually read the 5th wof book b4 any other in 4th grade bc i won it in a class bingo game b4 our winter break HSKFHSKKEHSK

favorite show is interchangeable btween stranger things, moon knight, & the owl house - truly it depends on what day you ask. ive rewatched st & mk twice (ive actually seen the first mk episode 3 times & all of the other episodes only twice bc of my brother), & im TRYING to be patient for the final toh season - man im gonna miss that show when it's gone, love those funky little guys. OH AND ALSO POKEMON, that's been one of my favorite things for YEARS now

favorite movie ... is hard bc i don't watch a ton of movies like that 😵‍💫😵‍💫 im gonna list a few that i rlly like bc i am just so behind on movies hsjdkakdkwk

spiderman: no way home was on my mind for months after i watched it - i almost didn't see it bc i was "studying for finals" when rlly i just didn't feel like goin at the time (i fr was in final season tho)

encanto - i knew the entire plot p much bc of tiktok & i STILL watched it twice 😭 goodness that movie is great

TICK TICK BOOM!!!! AAAAAAAAA i wish andrew won that oscar, he did phenomenal as jon larson 💔 ough that movie is so so good, it's still on netflix and ive watched it TWICE!! changed the trajectory of my life forever /j

idk how odd this may be but ,, extremely wicked, shocking evil, and vile - ive seen this movie three times & it still sends shivers down my back, zach efron looks so much like t*d b*ndy it's terrifying, but man is his acting INCREDIBLE, AUHJ

halloween 2018 - watched some of the halloween movies for the first time last year & have never been the same since 💀 but this one is my fave <33

all my love going to YOU, fox friend <33 mwah mwah

#it's 8:40am now i fell asleep WOOPS #🦊 anon friend <3 #🧸．berry n friends <3 #agere asks

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cuffmeinblack · 11 months ago

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Between the Lines

Andrew Larson x reader

Tags: Ravenclaw reader | fluff | tension | slice of life | very mild spice

5.1k words

Summary: Something on the noticeboard catches your eye; a book club run by your fellow Ravenclaw. Joining might be the best decision you ever make.

A/n: Yes, I wrote 5k words of pure fluff, sue me. Credit to @ellivenollivander for book club nerd Andrew inspo. Credit to myself for giving him glasses because I'm a self-indulgent pos.

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

By the time you’d found your way back to the Ravenclaw common room, your eyes—now permanently imprinted with light from distant stars—no longer bore the tiredness the late hour invited. In fact, you were wide awake, mind buzzing with maps of constellations and mentally writing your homework assignment not due for another week. It appeared your classmates felt the same annoying spark of energy that would delay sleep until the wee hours. Amit appeared to already be working on his essay, parchment and quill pulled out of his bag and lain across one of the coffee tables. With a sigh, you stalked through the room, bathing in the soft glow of ever burning candles and starlight, coming to a stop near a bookcase filled with mostly educational textbooks. The lone book of Muggle literature seemed to have been borrowed, only a gaping hole left behind.

Another late night atop the Astronomy tower concluded with an assignment that promised yet more of the same. The howling wind almost blew you down the stairs in the rush below, students clamouring into the relative warmth of the castle. The deeper you descended, the more your muscles relaxed—despite the warming charm you'd cocooned yourself in at the beginning of your lesson, it was clearly no match for the harsh Scottish Winters. In front of you, you spotted others shivering still, rubbing their arms, teeth chattering, including the ash blond hair you recognised as Andrew Larson's. He was perhaps the only other student who enjoyed the subject as much as Amit, who's enthusiastic smile appeared frozen in place.

Instead of grumbling your annoyance, you let your eyes drift over the adjacent noticeboard, chuckling softly at the personal notes that littered the display. Love letters sat side by side with passive aggressive scrawls, replies inked haphazardly in the margins of the papers. Your gaze finally fell onto the more serious announcements, ignoring the notice from Headmaster Black that was sure to be a load of old tosh. A new piece of parchment caught your eye, pinned to the very top, the stiff paper curling upwards. With a delicate finger, you peeled it down to reveal the neat and somewhat familiar penmanship detailing a new club—a book club. Well, if that wasn't right up your street…

“Interested?”

The softly melodic voice interrupted your reading, and you turned to face Andrew, a hopeful glint in his eyes—or perhaps that was the lingering starlight still etched into your own retinas.

“Is this your book club?” you asked, surprised that the quiet boy would be interested in running such a thing.

“Yes, though I only put the notice up yesterday. Are you interested, then? I've seen you reading in the common room a lot…”

He flushed slightly, perhaps realising he'd said too much. The thought of Andrew Larson noticing you doing anything made the corners of your lips quirk upward.

“What kind of books are we talking? Not schoolwork I presume.”

“No, nothing of the sort. A little bit of everything I suppose,” he mumbled, suddenly unsure as your scrutinising gaze bore into him. Only then did you notice him clutching a book under his arm, which now appeared in front of your face—a fine green leather bound edition with gold text.

“Dickens?” you asked, tilting your head to read the cover.

He nodded. “For starters. Conan Doyle, Stevenson, Warbeck…”

You snorted a little at the last, the famous witch being an author you’d not expected him to enjoy. “Warbeck? Read a lot of romance novels, Andrew?”

“Well…maybe…,” he blushed, then took a deep breath to rally his confidence. “There's nothing wrong with branching out into other genres.”

“No, you're right,” you replied, quietly watching him. There were clearly things you didn't know about your classmate. Though you'd not admitted to it, you'd noticed him reading in the common room, too, head dipped and perfectly coiffed hair falling over his eyes as it loosened after a long day. He tended to idly bite his nails as he did so—a terrible habit, yet oddly endearing to see him so engrossed in the pages, nibbling away. At no point had you caught him with a romance novel in hand, though, and given the content of some of Warbeck’s novels you had the sneaking suspicion he kept them for bedtime.

Your mind was made up. Plunging a hand into the bag still slung over one shoulder, you pulled out a self-inking quill and returned to the parchment notice. A quick scribble and your name was the first to join the sign-up sheet.

“Welcome to the Hogwarts book club,” Andrew said, beaming. The amber flecks in his eyes glittered as he turned to face you, tucking the book back under his arm. No doubt the club would be fun, the avid reader that you were, but it might have been worth signing up just to see his smile.

Days passed with giddy anticipation, until Andrew had passed you a note during Arithmancy the following week. It had surprised you, jolting you out of a near-slumber as the neatly folded parchment fluttered onto your desk. All it contained was a date, a location, and a little doodle of a book that coaxed forth a sleepy smile, earning you a public admonishment from your professor. You'd tucked it into your robes where it stayed for the remainder of the day, fingers fumbling the edges as you walked the halls. You'd never before been so excited about an extracurricular activity that didn't involve flying spherical deathtraps, and you suspected that part of it was due to the quiet and devastatingly handsome boy running it. The first meeting of the so-far-unnamed book club would take place that evening in the Charms classroom, no doubt with Professor Ronen’s blessing yet you hoped that the man himself wouldn't be attending—it was ever so hard to relax when teachers were around.

After dinner, you took the opportunity to shower and dress more comfortably, styling your hair and paying far too much attention to your appearance. You supposed the first meeting would be a way to meet your fellow club members and vote on the first book, but you tucked a couple of your favourites in a satchel anyway, eager for any opportunity to gush about the intricately crafted worlds you'd come to love just as much as Hogwarts. You had a skip in your step as you travelled the quiet corridors towards the classroom, stopping briefly along the way to stroke a few cats, eager for attention. The landing was clear, door ajar with nothing but silence within. The eeriness had you checking the time and rereading the note that now had hundreds of creases along its length. One minute early. You pushed the door open to reveal an empty room, bathed in gold from the setting sun.

“Welcome.”

The voice made you startle, and you turned to see Andrew perched on Professor Ronen's desk, once again clutching a book under his arm.

“Hi,” you said with a smile, glancing around the room to avoid staring at him. He'd dressed in cotton breeches and a smart navy jumper, and you hadn't failed to notice the gold rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. “I'm the first to arrive?”

Andrew shuffled his boots on the floor, eyes cast downwards. “You're actually the only one who signed up.”

Now you looked at him, almost falling sideways from the weight of your bag and the way he peered over his glasses at you. “I'm surprised our fellow Ravenclaws didn't want to be involved,” you said with a quiet chuckle.

“Me too. Since it's just us, you don't have to stay.” He shrugged, though you could tell that it bothered him, the disappointment in his tight smile.

“I'd still like to carry on, if it's okay with you. Maybe more will join over the next few weeks…”

You stepped a little closer to him, debating whether to squeeze his arm in a show of solidarity and sympathy. Instead, you faltered, awkwardly swinging your arms by your sides. He didn't notice, tucking his book back into his bag as if to leave—the rejection of your company stung painfully.

“Shall we go back to the common room, then? It's more comfortable there, and…”

“Yes, good idea,” you interrupted with an audible sigh of relief.

The walk back was filled with friendly chatter, never delving too deep—questions about your classes, his plans for the weekend, the weather—and never straying to the reason you'd ventured out here in the first place. Official book talk would only commence once settled into the common room, it seemed. Andrew, taking his position as club leader, picked out two armchairs by one of the towering arched windows, the backdrop now one of inky black as night well and truly settled. Tucking your feet underneath you, you tried to get comfortable as he called the meeting to order.

“I thought we could start by discussing some books we've read recently, then agree on a title to finish before the next meeting,” he said, suddenly adopting an air of confident formality.

You tried to suppress a smile, though you weren't entirely successful. “If that's what you'd like to do. Maybe you can tell me about the last Warbeck novel you read. Please tell me it was ‘Call of the Harpy’.”

Andrew huffed, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Actually it was ‘Dragon Fire’,” he muttered. “I'm not going to discuss that.”

Teasing out of the way, you talked about recent reads and went back and forth with suggestions. It somewhat surprised you how easy it was, falling into conversation with him until the room emptied and candles dimmed. You'd found yourself subconsciously edging closer towards him, caught up in his radiating passion. His shyness seemed to melt the longer he spoke, and you along with it. It was almost midnight by the time you agreed to delve into ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ for next time.

“Shall we meet again in a fortnight?” he asked.

You wanted to say no, demand something sooner, but instead you nodded. “Sounds good. Let's hope some more people join us,” you replied, not meaning a word of it. These few hours had been far too enjoyable in just his company, the last thing you wanted was another voice to pull his attention, as selfish as the thought was.

You finished the book in four days. The fifth was spent making notes, annotating every margin with points you thought worth discussing. The sixth had you climbing the walls, biting back the urge to storm up to the blond whenever you saw him, eager to know when your next meeting would be. You noticed him still reading almost every evening, nibbling his nails and deep in thought, and during the day you exchanged pleasantries, or passed each other like ships in the night as you mingled with your separate friendship groups. You swore you felt his eyes on you during Arithmancy. On the eighth day, you were walking back to the common room with Samantha when you noticed a fresh slip of parchment pinned to the noticeboard—how could you not, when your eyes diverted there every morning and every evening? The original notice for the Hogwarts Book Club remained in place, still bare and devoid of any signature but your own, yet on top there lay a curling piece that you knew was written by Andrew the closer you approached.

“What is it?” Samantha asked, following beside you. “I forgot you joined the book club. Maybe I should, too, but I'm so busy with chess and summoner's court…”

“You don't want to take on too much,” you replied with just the slightest pang of guilt. Your attention diverted to read the paper, happily noting that the next meeting would be only three days away. Samantha was mumbling something beside you, trying to talk herself into signing up. Part of you felt annoyance towards your classmates, and bafflement; yet another, larger part was pleased that the club was just you and Andrew. Still, the thought of his downcast eyes and obvious disappointment when he realised nobody else would be attending flared in your mind, prompting an uncomfortable twist of your stomach.

“I’m sure Andrew would be happy for another member.”

“I’ll think about it,” she hummed.

Once she'd departed for bed, you settled on a sofa facing the fire with a new book, having now exhausted everything ‘Dorian Gray’ had to offer. That night, you had company.

“Not reading your assigned text?”

You looked up to the familiar, soft voice to find big brown eyes creased from a smile. You smiled back, rolling your eyes. “I finished days ago. You're slacking."

Andrew motioned at the space next to you, a silent question you responded to with a nod. He didn't say anything else, just looked a little bashful as he turned to his book, now on the final few chapters by your estimations. Lapsing into silence, you fell back into your own story whilst the common room melted away around you, the chatter dulling to an unnoticeable hum. Only occasionally did you reach a natural pause, peering over at Andrew to check his progress, admire his profile, his slender form draped over the arm of the sofa.

“I'm finished,” he said sometime later, stretching his arms above his head to reveal a slight tuft of ash blond hair that smattered his taught abdomen. There was absolutely no way you could concentrate on your book now.

“At long last. What did you think?”

“That's a question for our next meeting.”

So instead, you talked about everything else.

A month passed and meetings came once a week or so, the time between them growing shorter and shorter. Reading together in the dimly lit common room seemed to have become routine, neither of you feeling the need to make awkward small talk to while away the hours, simply happy to sit comfortably in each other’s presence whilst immersed in other worlds. You'd not expected the friendship—grown so late in your time at Hogwarts—and somewhat missed the years that could have been. Laying in bed at night, you'd wondered if it wasn't too late for something more. His earthen eyes behind the gold frames haunted your dreams, whilst conscious hours dwelled on how soft his hair might be, or how pliant his lips against yours. He must have caught you staring, as you'd done him.

“We need a club name.”

Perched in the usual spot on your sofa, now several inches closer to the middle, you voiced the idea you'd thought of whilst Andrew had been busy updating a list of prospective books for the following week. You were so close your legs touched, bodies drawn together like magnets that seemed to ignite your skin upon contact. Neither of you flinched away, nor commented on it.

“Do we? I'm not even sure we count as a club.”

“Maybe if it was more official, people would come?”

Andrew looked at you with a curious expression, perhaps wondering why now you'd suggested recruiting more members when it had been just you two for so many weeks. His knee withdrew just an inch, and you regretted suggesting it, craving the slight pressure, the warmth. The truth was, you were nervous of where this was headed. The tension between you rippled and sparked every time you were alone, and it was just a matter of time before you cracked and did something disastrous, or potentially embarrassing.

“Hm, it can't help to try,” he chuckled. “What did you have in mind?”

“I hadn't thought that far. Erm, ‘Book Buddies’? ‘Rabid Readers’?”

He hummed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “‘Page Turners?’ ‘Once Upon a Tome?’”

Your face cracked into a smile as you grabbed the parchment and quill from Andrew's hands, fingers brushing. Your heart pounded at just the smallest touch of skin, so distracting you almost forgot what you were doing. With a quick and messy scrawl, you inked ‘Once Upon a Tome’ across the top of the paper and held it up.

“You couldn't have written that a bit neater?” Andrew said.

“I’ll let you continue to do the official notices, don't worry.”

“That's probably for the best.” He held out his hand and for one moment of insanity, you thought he was asking for yours. Of course, he was simply waiting for you to return the parchment. Embarrassingly, you couldn't help the disappointment as you rolled it up and slid it into his palm, your body reacting to the gentle brush of fingertips with a swell of warmth and affection. The exchange lasted for agonising moments, yet was over altogether too soon. Andrew tucked it into his bag on the floor but remained planted on the sofa.

“Well, that's all for this week,” he said hesitantly. “Have anything planned this evening?”

“No, nothing. Do you?”

He shook his head and bit his lip before looking at you with hope in his eyes. “Do you want to…I don't know, take a walk?” He almost flinched as if the suggestion were a terrible one.

“That sounds nice,” you replied with a warm smile. An excuse to spend even more time together wasn't to be passed up. “If we're going outside, I'll need a cloak.”

“I'll meet you here in a few minutes then?”

Donning your heaviest Winter cloak, a navy blue woolen affair, you jogged down to the common room to find him already waiting, holding a pair of black gloves. Whilst the hour was late and light was all but gone, it was still before curfew. You followed him down the tower, turning to the nearest exit that brought you into the refreshing night air. You hadn't noticed just how stuffy the common room had been with the roaring fire and mingling scents—the gentle breeze was most welcome. You talked and talked until you came to a stop on the parapet, leaning against the low wall that surrounded Hogwarts and looked out over the lake. The ripples on the surface looked too tumultuous to be caused by the wind, and you glared down at the glittering surface.

“Do you think a storm's brewing?” you asked, pointing below.

“I don't think so. Perhaps it's the mer down below.”

“You really think there's mermaids in the Black Lake?”

“I like to think so, even if it's nonsense. It can't all be grindylows and vicious fish with too many teeth down there.”

“Not a fan of the fish, Andrew?”

“I prefer my feet on dry land and fish on my dinner plate, thank you.”

You chuckled and turned your head back towards the lake, the ripples now stilling, yet you noticed something more alarming further out. The water had only stilled as the waters receeded in preparation for a wave. As if sucked into a giant plug hole, it rushed inward, bubbled, then burst outward. Andrew jolted and shouted in surprise beside you, your own mouth agape as you watched tentacles flailing and a huge, slimey head rear from the lake. You'd never seen the giant squid in all your years at Hogwarts, only heard of its size and the rumours of disappearing students who lingered too close to the water's edge. From the wall high above, you knew he couldn't reach you, but something had gotten it in a tizzy and you instinctively took a miniscule step backwards. You weren't high enough to completely avoid its spray, though, as a fine, salty mist now coated your face.

“It's amazing,” Andrew gasped.

“One word for it…monstrous is another.”

“Come on, look at it! I've never seen it before…or anything like it.” His excitement was palpable, and you almost clutched a fistful of his cloak to stop him from leaning too far over the edge.

The squid flailed again, more of a belly flop, sending a huge wave to the beach as it plunged back underwater and out of sight. Soon the only sound was the crash of water against the pebbles and your own heavy breathing. Only then did you realise you'd been clutching his arm, and his hand had found its way to the small of your back. You looked at him and he tore his eyes away from the lake, both standing in silence as the gravity of your instinctive pull to one another settled. As on the sofa, you'd found yourself growing subconsciously closer. It appeared there was no stopping it.

“You're wet,” he remarked. His eyes widened after he'd said it, his burning cheeks evaporating the water right off his skin.

“A little. So are you. It was worth it though, right?”

“Yes, it was worth it,” he said.

You weren't sure if you were talking about the squid or the fact that his hand still held firm against your back. Judging by the slightly furrowed brow, neither did he.

The new addition to the noticeboard almost blended into the myriad other notices—if it weren't for Andrew's recognisable handwriting, neat and elegant like the man himself—you’d have missed it. Of course the tiny book doodle in the corner was a giveaway for whom it was for. You read the contents, and your cheeks burned involuntarily. You had to read the note three times, inspecting every letter for forgery. It contained a date and time, and curiously, a new location. A flick of paper confirmed that no names had been added to the signup sheet for your newly titled club. Perhaps Andrew was bored of the common room, but the astronomy tower seemed an odd place for discussing literature, with not a comfortable chair in sight and no lights to speak of except the ones dotting the sky. A flicker of hope ignited, that perhaps he had other ideas for that evening.

Neither of you mentioned the curious change in venue as you chatted during classes or smiled across the laden breakfast table. You'd told Samantha everything you knew and suspected, and her dark eyes flitted between you both with a smirk on her face. By the time you were due to leave for the astronomy tower on a Tuesday evening, your friend had become insufferable in her teasing.

“Make sure you wear that perfume…”

“Sam, it's just a book club.”

“Of course it is. In the Astronomy tower. Alone.”

That final word made your stomach squirm. Still, you packed your book into your satchel and ignored the perfume sitting on the dressing table, passing Samantha with a wave met only by an eye roll. The tower was quiet, no classes scheduled and the bitter wind warding off all but the most dedicated students. Even Amit had decided to do his stargazing from the comfort of the common room that night. Andrew was already waiting, leaning against the railing and peering out at the clear night sky. Dressed in a black winter cloak, he almost blended in with the landscape were it not for his hair, almost silver in the soft moonlight.

“Strange place to meet,” you remarked, causing his head to whip around.

He shrugged, smiling shyly as you approached. “I thought it would be quiet. And…” He looked out at the sky again, as if the view was answer enough. It was.

“What would you have done if someone else had decided to join our club?” you asked.

“Apologise profusely and ask them to make themselves scarce.”

Smiling at him, you waited for him to carry on, but he seemed to be too nervous to say anymore. His gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips, throat bobbing as he swallowed deeply.

“So, why are we up here?” you prompted.

Andrew let out a deep exhale, his breath producing a cloud of mist between your faces. Mint. He'd brushed his teeth. The fact that you were now close enough to have noticed such a thing almost startled you. “I wanted to tell you something,” he said whilst shuffling his feet. He looked nervous, ready to bolt back down the stairs given the way he avoided your stare. Perhaps that's why you decided to be bold, and put him out of his misery.

“I like you, too.”

The seconds after blurting those four words out seemed to stretch into minutes, maybe even hours. Whilst you tried hard to keep your face neutral, inwardly your thoughts were in turmoil, desperately awaiting his response. Anything. Your chest hurt with the aggressive thumping of your heart, your palms felt sweaty despite the cold…

“You knew?” he asked.

“I guessed, or hoped.”

“I had a whole speech planned.”

“You can still say…” The rest of your sentence was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. The initial shock dissipated quickly, your body heating and blood rushing as it responded to his kiss. Only a tempting press of lips and it was over too soon—Andrew pulled back, the tip of his nose still brushing your skin as he took another deep, shuddering, minty breath. He seemed to be allowing you a chance to pull away, as if that were ever an option. Your hand snaked around his neck, another fisting the heavy fabric of his cloak, pulling him so eagerly he almost stumbled and fell straight into another, deeper kiss. This time he didn't hold back, gripping your waist with slender fingers, firm and sure.

You could have kicked yourself for how long you'd waited for this to happen. All those weeks spent agonisingly close on that sofa, you could have been doing this. And it was everything you'd dreamed of; his lips just as soft; tongue just as warm and offering such a gentle caress. His hands remained respectfully at your waist, yet the way he kneaded at your flesh suggested he wanted more. You shivered in response to a quiet moan as his tongue delved deeper, your bodies pressing tighter. When you finally broke for air, his fingers curled in your hair and he held you close, foreheads touching as you gathered your breath. Never before had you experienced a kiss quite like it, an outpouring of a deep well of tension. There'd be no going back now, not when you'd had a taste of him.

“Andrew...” Your voice was breathier than usual, and you felt an unmistakable twitch in his breeches. He almost pulled away, but you held him firm, lips barely brushing as you felt your own arousal simmering dangerously close to the surface. The temptation was overwhelming, yet you knew he was a gentleman. His expression was almost pained with desire.

“I won't do anything you don't want me to,” he finally said.

“I don't want you to think I go about doing this with every boy.”

He chuckled and brushed a finger under your chin, tilting your head enough to meet his gaze. Gods, he had beautiful eyes. “I don't think that. I really only wanted to tell you that I like you as more than a friend and to…well, to ask you if you'd like to accompany me to Hogsmeade at the weekend.”

A date, of course. Your mind had been in the gutter from the moment his lips met yours. Perhaps a faint flicker of disappointment had appeared on your face as Andrew smiled wider, his cheeks now a rosy pink.

“Give me three dates,” he mumbled.

You let out a nervous giggle before kissing him again. “Two, and I promise to keep my hands to myself until then.”

It was a while before you were defeated by the cold, lured back to the castle. You held hands on the walk back to the common room and Andrew cast warming charms on you both to dispel the chill. As beautiful as the view was on top of the Astronomy tower, you preferred the one right next to you. He was a little quieter than usual, perhaps nervous for what was about to come. It was only a promise of a date, yet the way your hands entwined so surely and perfectly, you had the impression that it was a mere formality, that your hearts were perhaps already promised to one another.

The end of the school year brought tears for the loss of classmates, promises to friends and a palpable excitement that rippled through the seventh years as they embarked upon new adventures. Andrew had travelled home a week earlier than most, leaving you feeling empty, despite the revelry taking place around you. Countless parties had been thrown to mark the occasion, yet you most of all missed the quiet hours spent curled up in his arms reading, talking, or much more physical pursuits. It had been worth the wait.

Along with much of the common room’s occupants you had a hangover, and inwardly cursed the Hufflepuffs for their home-brewed mead. Samantha recoiled from the soft morning light beside you, collapsing into an armchair with her trunk beside her and muttering about needing a pepperup potion. The train would be leaving in an hour, and all around you people were saying their goodbyes, perhaps for the final time. You'd be sad to see the castle go, and all the memories it held. The people you'd met would still be only an owl or floo away, though, and you looked down at Samantha's crumpled form with a fond smile. A final sweep of the room, and you were ready to go, rallying your friend with promise of hot cocoa on the train. She grumbled but traipsed behind you, until you were stopped in your tracks by something you'd missed that made your heart leap almost clean out of your chest.

You'd spotted a note on the noticeboard with the familiar little book doodle in the bottom right corner. Without Andrew, you'd not bothered to check for any notices, yet here it was—one final note for the book club that had started it all.

“Sam, I'll meet you outside…”

“Is that from Andrew?” she asked, peering over your shoulder. “Ooh, let me see!”

“I'd rather read it alone, if it's all the same to you.”

She tilted her head in disappointment but had no energy to argue, muttering about getting the information out of you later on the train as she slinked off to wait. Your gaze dropped to his beautiful handwriting, the care he'd taken to make this particular parchment worth keeping was evident. Removing it carefully from the pin, you began to read.

‘It started with Once Upon a Tome,

Now Princess, let's have our Happily Ever After,

I shall see you again in the Summer,

The beginning of our adventure.

Yours,

Prince Charming’

You held it close, warmth spreading through your tired body as the sounds of the common room evaporated around you. You recalled every minute spent with him, every date you'd squeezed into the remaining months of the school year. You owed it all to that one fateful day when you'd taken a chance to join a book club. A fairytale ending, indeed.

#andrew larson #andrew larson fanfiction #hogwarts legacy

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