#I love Liam Avery

[zerodoesartyay]

Have some Liams

[caramellles]

a little makeover of my beloved family

[spnhunter4life]

Good Morning

Summary: Ridoc is dying to share the latest gossip he's just discovered about a certain squadmate or two.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry in advance for the somewhat lengthy note here. Don't feel obligated to read the whole thing. So, I'm back and writing again! Not only is this my first fic back after nearly 6 months, but it's my first Fourth Wing fic! It is also my first time writing for anything other than Supernatural. After finishing these books I did the only logical thing and started searching out fanfiction to cope with the very real Fourth Wing hangover I was dealing with, and I was a little disappointed that there aren't more Liam fics out there since he is by far my favorite character. So I guess this is me, getting a start on putting more Liam fics out into the world. You're welcome? Maybe? Hopefully? Anyway, this fic is mostly just a lot of banter between the squad. Writing this kind of friend dynamic doesn't come super easily to me, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it too! (Also, big thank you to anyone who actually read this whole thing!)

Masterlist

“Good morning!” Ridoc chirped with the biggest, most knowing grin on his face I’d ever seen. I glared daggers at him as I took my seat at the table next to Violet, Liam setting his plate down and sitting next to me.

His cheerful greeting was widely ignored, acknowledged only by Sawyer who managed little more than a grunt in reply.

Undeterred by this lackluster response, Ridoc continued cheerfully, “It is a great morning, isn’t it? What do you think, Rhi?” 

I continued my glaring, but Liam merely rolled his eyes.

“I think it would be better if you weren’t being so loud,” Rhiannon, who had the misfortune of sitting next to him, grumbled.

“See? Rhiannon agrees,” Ridoc continued, either not listening to her answer or just ignoring it in favor of his obvious goal. “What about you, Violet? Having a good morning?”

Violet looked at Ridoc a little warily, catching on to his tone. “I suppose so,” she agreed.

Sawyer, who was also catching on, began to look suspiciously around the room before focusing back on our table. “What’s going on, Ridoc?” He asked.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” Ridoc replied in a tone that was far from casual. “But since you ask, you know who I hear is having a particularly good morning?” That knowing smile was back, but toned down into more of a smirk than an all out grin.

“Ridoc,” I warned since my glaring evidently hadn’t made my point.

“I heard Sam saying he saw Jesse coming out of Avery’s room this morning.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders and everyone else rolled their eyes.

“That’s old news,” Sawyer said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a great morning for them,” Ridoc countered.

Conversation seemingly over, I turned to Violet.

“Hey, are you still available to help me study for that history test tonight?” I asked her.

“Yeah, of course,” she immediately agreed. “I’ve got some useful tips to help you memorize-”

“You know who else is having a great morning?” Ridoc cut in. My glare returned full force and I kicked him under the table. He yelped and Sawyer looked curiously between us.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” He asked.

“Ridoc caught me kissing Y/N this morning and apparently has nothing better to do than gossip about it,” Liam said, cutting off the ensuing battle of wills and drama before it could really start. Everyone gaped at him. I saw slightly squinted eyes and tilted heads as if they were replaying his words, sure they’d heard him wrong.

“Wait. Seriously?” Rhiannon was the one to break the silence, a grin slowly forming on her face.

I shot Liam a half hearted betrayed look and sighed. “Yes, really!” Ridoc said excitedly before I could say the exact same thing, albeit in a much less enthusiastic tone. It’s not that I didn’t want them to know, it’s that I didn’t want them to know yet. The truth was, we’d been together for just over a week now, and while I was loving it, I wasn’t ready to make the best thing I had going public knowledge to be gossiped about.

“You know how Liam’s been giving Y/N sparring lessons before breakfast?” He asked. While I hadn’t been performing poorly on the mat by any stretch of the imagination, I still had lots of room for improvement and had asked Liam to help me. Those lessons, those quiet times we had together with no one else around were what finally pushed us together. Turns out we’d both been pining for quite some time. 

“Yeah,” Sawyer said, a not so subtle push for more information.

“Well I was up early this morning and decided I’d go see if they could use my help.” This earned a snort from Rhi. “Anyway,” he continued, brushing off the wordless comment about the state of his own fighting skills, “I walked into the room and, what do you know? Turns out ‘training’ was just code for making out.”

“It was not!” I objected, a little too loudly. Several heads turned our direction and I felt my face heat. “He’s really been helping me,” I continued in a quieter voice. Liam, who was usually my go to for help in an argument of any kind, was apparently too busy being pleased with himself to back me up. I could see him fighting the smug smile threatening to take over his face. I fought the urge to roll my eyes again.

“So was this a heat of the moment, one time thing, or what happened? You know we need details!” Violet prompted.

“Heat of the moment?” I asked, eyeing Liam as I remembered his arms around me as he encouraged me to break his hold. His eyes heated as he remembered too. “Yes. One time thing? No.”

“So how long has this been going on for?” Rhi demanded.

“Barely more than a week,” Liam answered. “And we were going to tell you. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

“You know what? I don’t even care that you didn’t tell us,” Violet assured us. “I’m just so happy to see you two finally admitting you’re into each other.”

“Yeah,” Rhi agreed. “To be honest, all the obvious staring and longing looks were getting a little old. I was about ready to step in and do something about it.”

“Like what?” I asked warily. She wasn’t one to hold back or do things the easy, gentle way, so if she truly had been planning something, then I’m glad we beat her to the punch.

“I don’t know. Kiss Liam to make you jealous. Find someone dumb enough to kiss you to make Liam jealous. Ridoc, maybe.” 

“Hey!” Ridoc protested at being called dumb, but it was a token protest at best. We all knew he would’ve done it with very little prompting.

“Get a ridiculous, teenage version of truth or dare going and either have you kiss each other or force you to admit your feelings,” she continued. “Or maybe just beat you both around the head and tell you how oblivious you were both being.”

“My money’s on the last option,” Sawyer muttered, loudly enough that we all heard him. I was inclined to agree. The other options she’d listed were not really her style. She preferred a more direct approach.

“Well, luckily for us, there will be no beating necessary,” Liam said. 

Ridoc grinned. “Au contraire, my friend. It sounds like some beating was very necessary. Unless you’re going to change your mind and tell me that training was just an excuse to make out after all.”

I huffed in exasperation and Liam shook his head, a fond smile on his face.

“If all we were doing was making out, why would we even come up with an excuse? Why would we not just spend the night together? It would be a lot simpler,” I pointed out.

“It would be simpler, wouldn’t it?” That ridiculous grin was still firmly plastered on his face. A quick look around the table confirmed that the rest of our friends were wearing similar smiles.

“Something to keep in mind,” Liam chuckled. “But in the meantime, I think you’ll all be quite impressed with Y/N’s improvements at our next squad training session tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah?” Violet asked with a sly grin. “Been putting her through her paces, have you?”

Ridoc choked on his water and started violently coughing to expel it from his lungs. Rhiannon thumped him on the back as she snickered.

Liam’s eyes sparked in surprise and then the corner of his mouth quirked up in a rarely seen – and unfairly attractive – mischievous grin. “Why, Violet? You thinking about joining us?” I could practically see the snarky retort forming in her mind, but just before she could voice it, Liam continued. “I’m a little preoccupied with Y/N, of course, but I could always ask Xaden to help you out.”

Violet turned red at the mention of the wingleader.

“Yes, Violet,” I grinned. “You do love seeing him without a shirt on.” I couldn’t help but reference the way she had openly stared at him yesterday while he and Garrick sparred.

“Oh please,” Rhi scoffed. “As if we’ve never seen you ogling Mairi when his shirt’s off.”

Liam turned a surprised look on me, eyebrow raised in question. I shrugged. There was no point hiding it from him anymore. “Guilty as charged.”

Liam’s smile turned back to smug and I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s not exactly news to you that you’re attractive.”

“And that means I’m not supposed to like knowing that you’ve been looking?” He challenged. Then he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Or are you telling me it doesn’t do something to you when you catch me looking at you that way?”

My face felt like it was on fire with how quickly the blood rushed to it. I whipped my head around to stare at him incredulously, surprised he would make such a comment right in front of our friends. They hadn’t heard him of course, but their knowing smirks said enough about their ability to guess at what had been said.

“I thought we were teasing Violet now,” I managed to choke out. Liam’s thumb rubbed soothingly over my knee in silent apology, but the gleam in his eye told me he wasn’t sorry for making the comment, only that there were other people around.

“Her infatuation with Riorson is old news. This is much more interesting,” Ridoc answered.

“Interesting or not, if we’re going to make it to Battle Brief on time, we’d better get going,” Sawyer informed us. I glanced around the room and realized he was right. The morning’s usual mass exit was starting as everyone hurried to make it to class. We all stood up and followed them.

“Seriously, though,” Sawyer said, dropping back to walk beside us for a moment. “I’m happy for you two.” There were echoes of agreement from the other three walking directly ahead of us.

“Thanks,” Liam and I answered at the same time. 

This day hadn’t started out quite how I wanted, what with our friends finding out about us, but I realized it wasn’t such a bad thing. A weight I hadn’t even realized was there was lifted off of my chest with the relief of no longer having to keep a secret from our squadmates. 

I couldn’t seem to keep the smile off my face the whole way to Battle Brief. When I joined the rider’s quadrant, I was prepared for hard work and sacrifice and spending my days miserable and alone. Instead, I had a wonderful group of friends that would do anything for me. I was lucky enough to be in a relationship with the most incredible man I’d ever met. And I was happy, I realized. Happier than I’d been in a very long time. Maybe ever. 

I reached for Liam’s hand under the table. He entwined our fingers without question, and I knew he would hold on until the need to take notes required us to let go. I couldn’t be upset with Ridoc anymore about outing us to the squad. I was too grateful to be a part of this little family we had all created together. I smiled to myself as I remembered his over the top greeting this morning in preparation for teasing us and how annoyed I had been. He was right, though. It was a good morning.

[pasukiyo]

Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…

 The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises. 

 “Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters. 

 ‘To my dearest son,

 Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling. 

 With all my love, your mother.’

 Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they. 

 It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden. 

 She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?

 Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say. 

 Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood. 

 But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.” 

 Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act. 

 When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”

 Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried. 

 And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else. 

 But Tom… Tom Riddle was different. 

 Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool. 

 She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head. 

 And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was. 

 In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would. 

 So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year. 

 She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin. 

 At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not. 

 Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped. 

 And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more. 

 But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle. 

 “Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached. 

 She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face. 

 “My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing. 

 Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll. 

 “My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably. 

 Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling. 

 “Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”

 Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”

 The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord. 

 “Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious. 

 Tom shrugged, “I promise.”

 Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”

 Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”

 The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others. 

 All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family. 

 Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same. 

 But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her? 

 Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of. 

 “So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating. 

 The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view. 

 The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave. 

 “Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight. 

 Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“

 “Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”

 Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his. 

 “Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess…  I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear. 

 Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“

 “—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”

 She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him. 

 “What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”

 She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether. 

 “He’s not my brother.”

 The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour. 

 But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them. 

 “Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed. 

 Why was Tom coming over here?

 “Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”

 She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.

 “It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”

 Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.

 “Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”

 She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long. 

 “Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it. 

 It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace. 

 Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone. 

 Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood. 

 It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away. 

 He wanted her. 

 “Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

 She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level. 

 “Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”

 She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him. 

 “Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.

 “And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”

 She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom. 

 Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate. 

 He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either. 

 “So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”

 She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned. 

 “Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress. 

 All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all. 

 She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal. 

 Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs. 

 “I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem. 

 She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?

 But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away. 

 “Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away. 

 But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer. 

 “Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”

 If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed. 

 Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side. 

 Who could possibly be knocking at her door?

 She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”

 She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here. 

 But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…

 “Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”

 Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not. 

 She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger. 

 “Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?” 

 She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents. 

 Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet. 

 “Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”

 She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering. 

 “You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat. 

 Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”

 Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way. 

 It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together. 

 They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her. 

 Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was. 

 They had never ever been this close before. 

 “Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips. 

 It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability. 

 “Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”

 She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted. 

 So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him. 

 “I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going. 

 So she did. 

 “They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

 She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside. 

 “They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

 Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything. 

 So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear. 

 “You are not nothing,”  Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”

 She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody. 

 And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear. 

 A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him. 

 So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep. 

 This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him. 

 He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that. 

 But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away. 

 For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone. 

 She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh. 

 “T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”

 Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs. 

 “Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well. 

 She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches. 

 So eager, he thought. 

 He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched. 

 She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. 

 “P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes. 

 “Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

 She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory. 

 He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…

 She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next. 

 Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years. 

 Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces. 

 And maybe that was the goal all along. 

 Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire. 

 But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own. 

 But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person. 

 He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him. 

 For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her. 

 Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same. 

 This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…

 …then surely he could learn to embrace it. 

a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶

[dearestdo3]

Can you write headcanon for mlm snily?

Thankyou for the fun ask, anon!! I honestly base Liam's personality a lot from Harry lmao but hcs below cut!

The first time they met eachother, Liam immediately commented on Sev's choice of clothing (this boy cannot control his tongue)

Liam loves to tease Sev. He thinks Sev's reaction is funny, while Sev just gets annoyed at this weird boy's humor but he tolerates it

Sev urges him to go for the quidditch tryouts during the second year (because he remembers how fascinated Liam was when he talked about quidditch during their childhood)

Thanks to being a chaser in the Gryffindor quidditch team, Liam became very popular in their year overnight. It annoys Sev because Liam likes the attention too much

Liam always asks Sev to watch him practice and play, especially if its Gryff v Slytherin

^ Much to Sev's annoyance, he does enjoy seeing Liam play

^^ So he swallowed his pride and disregard the comments from his housemates just to cheer for Liam

Liam becomes more and more popular because he grows up to be smart, outspoken, and confident. But he insist on still befriending Sev

Once, Liam physically pulls Sev away from Mulc & Avery, carries him to their favorite hang out spot, and scolds him for hanging out with them and not him

^ Sev retaliates by saying that Liam might as well just be a Marauder with how much he hangs out w Potter

^^ Argument ended when the two apologized at the same night (doesn't really solve the problem at hand tho lol)

Sev's already in love with Liam for a long time, doesn't deny his feelings too, but he never says it out loud (he was sure Liam would date Potter with how close those two are)

^ Liam meanwhile is still confused and doesn't want to acknowledge his feelings because it's 'wrong' to like another boy

^^ Until he saw Sev hanging out with [insert Slytherin boy here] and he lost it

^^^ Liam confessed that he starts feels weird seeing Sev, and he thinks it's because he likes Sev romantically

^^^^ Sev confessed back <3 and they kiss

[xstrawberryshiftsx]

MY 1D DR!!

NAME: REDACTED Dove

AGE: 16

AESTHETIC:

TALENTS: Singing, baking, drawing, piano, guitar

FRIENDS:

Liam

Niall

Louis

Zayn (childhood friends)

Harry

S/O(s):

Harry and I dated and where engaged from 16-20 and he broke it off we me : (much more detail but can’t be bothered to right it lol)

I then date a girl called Avery for about 4 months

ENDGAME: my endgame is Zayn <3 (specifically 2014 and Japan Zayn cause Jesus Christ)

ALBUM(s):

My first album is Paracosm and is basically about my childhood and relationships and my breakup with harry (we were engaged but we were both young and he was getting hate and overthinking it so in an impulsive he broke it off me with me)

cover:

My second album is folklore and evermore

SINGLES:

Hot to go

good luck babe

my kink is karma

Red wine super nova

lie to girls

Causal

super graphic ultra modern girl

Pink pony club

getaway car

Greatest

Now that we don’t talk

This love

Say don’t go

Wildest dreams

Wonderland

Style

Is it over now

Out of the woods

Wildflower

Hey I’ve been gone for a while! (So I’m basically shadowbanned) anyway I’m gonna tag some mooties so y’all know I’m back

@st4rshipr4nger @sugaredlavenderhearts @livingsecret @moonyshifter @mars-multiverse @kelpstheshifter @harrypotterlover14 @littlecoffeeadict @shiftingwithjaidyn @zipper-is-ranting

[serenescureforboredom]

Twins hc’s with family

Ok so I know I said I was going to do the twins with Avery but I’m sorry the ideas were not ideaing 😭 so I ended doing with the whole FAMILIA 😶

Ok so first a bit of backstory on the twins -Elder twin is the boy and we’re gonna call him Liam ( not my first name pick but I can’t think of anything else 😐). -Hes older by a few minutes so takes on that protective sexy older brother vibe. -Younger twin is GAMES UNTOLD SPOILER BEWARE Hannah which is what Libby said she would call her -Shes such a cutie patootie but will go 👹 on you if you touch the people she loves. ok now the actual headcannons. -When Hannah was a kid and still to this day she loves her uncle gray -There was a time Hannah was crying when she was like 2 and as soon as Grayson picked her up she got quiet but as soon as he put her down she started crying again -Grayson did not go to his 💰 💸🤑 penthouse that week night. - Both twins love Avery and Avery SPOILS them Libby has to warn Avery before taking them anywhere because she and the twins would come back with 527282862525282826452 bags and diabetes - Libby would end up scolding Avery but it doesn’t matter because it 100% will happen again - If you thought Avery was bad just look at uncle gray, Jamie and xan. - These mfs be pulling up with the whole ass mall 😈 - I feel like the twins would be born around the time lyra comes in so they would also be really close - If anyone put there hands on these kids they cooked because everyone will go after them, even the baddie herself Lyra Hawthorne Kane 😌🤫 - When Liam is 2 Jamie would accidentally swear because he stubbed his toe or smt and when everyone is together Liam would blurt out “SHIT” - Everyone would have that slow menacing turn of their heads towards Jameson - Nash beat his ass 🩴 - The kids wouldn’t be scared if Nash got mad at them but if Libby got mad? God help them 🫣 - Xander would take them into his robotics lab and they would blow up a bunch of crap 🤯💥 - The kids would so be badass at fighting - The twins would be great older cousins and Nash would see himself in looking at his kids taking care of his little nieces/nephews

[skeelly]

"when im fat and old and my kids think im a joke"

hi!! welcome. i suggest putting a seatbelt on and i will pay for your therapy, dont worry. :)

☘ "hi, it's me. im the problem it's me.": im kristen! you can call me kristen or kris. minor. she/her. intp-t. ambivert. 🇵🇭. reader (sort of). notes app writer (sometimes). i could not care less about my dumb typos so deal with it. i suck at math. biiiiiggg ophelia wilde fan. delulu swiftie no.9273737277. rodrigoxpartidge's biggest supporter. claire rosinkranz is the reason for my existence. gracie abrams ily. "how long can we be a sad song?". im married to grayson hawthorne. mirrorball//tolerate it girlie 4 life. stromboli fan until the day i die. nick girlie by heart. pjo stan at this point. harry potter simp. hermione granger is my mother. sherlock and enola holmes stan. "no body, no crime". haylor (sorry not sorry). one direction is my life. FREE PALESTINE. kenji, my spirit animal. jude is so ughhhhh perfect. javery shipper cause jameson for avery, grayson for me :3. massive k!nye west hater so if you like him, please leave. but i love rap. certified professional procrastinator. capricorn (not a believer in those things though). i love reading poetry. correct grammar = non existent. i can (technically) fluently speak 3 languages. i can speak (basic, not much) about 5 languages?. piano enthusiast. very big sport girly (football *soccer. america football can kiss my toes. that sport sucks*, f1, volleyball, badminton, basketball, tennis and hockey fan). walker scobell is perfect and i love him. c²>>>>. sharl leclerc. max the axe. oscar paistry. ankara messi. sewy. leah is my bestie. dior is the best artist no cap. pookie nation frfr. charlie's luke is best luke. andrew is underrated. olivea is jusssttt.

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[riddles-n-games]

Can you write a headcanon about what types of tattoos each character would get? If they would get one…

Ok, but why did that remind me of the Tattoo Roulette game with One Direction on James Corden's late night show? Xander would be Niall, Nash would be Liam, Grayson would be Louis (the sassy mothertrucker) and Jameson would be Harry but much more willing and enthusiastic. Actually, I could see this happening on a very badly drunk edition of Drink or Dare.

Sure, I'll just do our main crew though. Here goes:

Nash-Personally, he really doesn't want one but if Libby asked he would. One of her fun suggestions would be a little cowboy hat on the base of his thumb. He thinks it's cute but for himself, he may just choose a motorcycle or a horse on his forearm. Something in black. Tattooing Libby's name would also be a must for him.

Grayson-This boy would be really against them but the only time he'd get them, very begrudgingly might I add, is if all his brothers wanted to get tattoos or because of a lost bet and he doesn't lose them often. He may get a dagger on his wrist. But, if he wanted something very personal, he would get a meaningful one that reflects a bit of the past and he would get it on his ribs, just to make it hurt, to punish himself for past wrongs like his haiku, the words Never Forget or Nothing Less Than Perfection. Although, for a bet, on a dare, his brothers (read: Jameson) would make him get a smiley face with I AM PERFECTION surrounding it on his abdomen.

Jameson-Wholeheartedly, this one would go all out and for fun probably pick something to go on his ribs even though it's the placement with the worst pain to get one since he has no self-preservation. Probably flames, maybe Ghost Rider. If he was one to already have tattoos, he'd probably have a bunch of stupid ones from like a dare or something. For some reason, one he'd get is a snake coiled around his wrist with the words from the Bible verse: Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. In honor of Avery, he would get Heiress tattooed over his heart or something funny like Property of A Very Risky Gamble along his collar bone. But his girlfriend's actual suggestion is getting the word EXTRAORDINARY on his finger.

Xander-He'd say he want one without any thought whatsoever about the process he has to go through to get it but then when he gets in the chair, he'd chicken out and pass out. Insert Stiles Stilinski fainting gif here. Although, he actually wants a really cool cartoony classic robot design in color on his arm if he did.

Avery-She's not necessarily fond of the idea but would totally do it for a dare or get one with Jameson. Avery entertains the idea that if she ever did, she might get a key tattooed on the inside of her wrist or a chess piece (we all know which one; the queen). Other ones that feel like a good possibility include getting her mother's name in cursive with little postcards on either side or Hannah, The Same Backward As Forward. One that she would get to commemorate to her relationship with Jamie is Heads or Tails on her ring finger with a small penny on the underside of the finger.

Libby-She'd get one on the back of her neck saying Love Yourself, some fun finger tats that Xander, Max, and Avery helped her pick out and get Nash on her ring finger where the wedding band would go. Also, a cute cupcake with Stress Baker underneath it would be mandatory on her arm or leg. Maybe the top of her shoulder blade. She and Avery would design some sort of special tattoo that they'd get together at some point in the future.

Max-Straight up would get AUSTRALIA with a kangaroo on her foot because she's real like that and also a fanatic for that crazy place (honestly don't understand how she survived). She'd also get a blueberry scone in honor of Xander who couldn't get one for himself because of the fainting incident. Maybe a quote from the Bible from John or a Star Wars quote on her arm.

Hope this is what you were looking for along the lines. I could make a part two in the future. Thanks for the suggestion.

[pamsimmerstories]

that was just a dream, just a dream ♫

previous || next

-

[collin]: the sleepover being at my place was a great idea, right? i asked avery to go to liam’s. although i told him it would be aubrey here, not you

[freya]: let’s not talk about him, cole. hm?

[collin]: yes, it’s better this way

[freya]: kiss me, collin.

[collin]: freya, i can’t believe this is happening

[freya]: i love you, collin. not just as friends. i always have loved you

*sounds of alarm clock ringing*

[collin]: *mumbling* oh fuck!

[avery]: what’s wrong? bad dream?

[collin]: quite the opposite

[avery]: *grins* yeah, i can see it on your pants *laughs*

[collin]: shut up, avery.

[avery]: you know, you should go use the closest bathroom

[collin]: fuck you!

[avery]: *barks a laughter* this is hilarious. you made my morning, cole

[collin]: i’ll be fucking recording when it happens to you next time, asshole

[my-random-ocs]

Teen Wolf OCs

A-E | F-M | N-Z

Name: Aaron Horowitz

Story: Blackbird Fly

Faceclaim: Noah Centineo

Species: Human

Love Interest: Lydia Martin

Summary:

Name: Adelina 'Addy' Delgado

Story: Beautiful Wreckage

Faceclaim: Cierra Ramirez

Species: Human

Love Interest: Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Addy Delgado and Scott McCall were closer than most twins, despite Addy taking their mother’s maiden name after her parents’ divorce. After what happened at her father’s apartment that night in first grade, she wanted nothing to do with her father. Their relationship didn’t change when they went to high school, staying best friends despite her rising popularity and his lack thereof. And if Scott was getting dragged out in the middle of the night to find a dead body, then Addy was going, too, if only to make sure they all survived the ordeal. She never guessed that night would change their lives, but it did. And if Scott was going to be battling an alpha werewolf and werewolf hunters, then Addy was going to be right there by his side.

Name: Adina Reyes

Story: The Year of Your Wolf

Faceclaim: Liana Liberato

Species: Human

Love Interest: Liam Dunbar

Summary:

Name: Adva Harel

Story: Queen of Death

Faceclaim: Rachel Keller

Species: Human turned chimera

Summary:

Name: Anastasie ‘Annie’ Guillaume

Story: Inheritance

Faceclaim: Jenna Louise Coleman

Species: REDACTED-hunter

Summary: When the first Anastasie Guillaume saw her mother killed by a werewolf, she decided to teach her daughters to fight. Then their daughters taught their daughters, then their daughters, and thus became family tradition – the means to fight werewolves passed down to each girl until it hit Annie. Marrying into a hunter family wasn’t easy, and Lisa didn’t want to raise her daughter in the supernatural. So, Annie grew up blissfully ignorant, which was a feat in itself in Beacon Hills. Until she saw her mother be killed by a werewolf, and her father told her about everything that goes bump in the night. She spent her days learning how to fire an arrow, and a bullet, and throw a punch – how to take on an alpha werewolf. Then Scott McCall gets bitten by a werewolf, and everything goes to shit.

Name: Anders Kenner

Story: Free Falling

Faceclaim: Gaten Matarazzo

Species: REDACTED

Summary:

Name: Andromache ‘Andra’ Vitalis

Story: No Fear

Faceclaim: India Eisley

Species: Amazon

Summary:

Name: Arduinna 'Ari' Gajos

Story: Intertwined

Faceclaim: Hailee Steinfeld

Species: Druid

Love Interest: Scott McCall

Summary:

Name: REDACTED | Ara Edwards

Story: On the Angel

Faceclaim: Lily Collins

Species: REDACTED

Summary:

Name: Audra Mills

Story: Golden Moon

Faceclaim: China Anne McClain

Species: REDACTED

Summary:

Name: Avery Krasikeva

Story: You Will Be Found

Faceclaim: Zoey Deutch

Species: Human

Love Interest: Stiles Stilinski

Summary: The Krasikeva family has never had the best luck. After her sister’s mysterious death, Avery’s life went downhill. But when she gets locked inside her school with a group of classmates and a psycho killer, Avery knows that life isn’t all it seems. Especially when Paige’s old boyfriend is suspected of murder.

Name: Blaze Matthews

Story: Supernova

Faceclaim: Gregg Sulkin

Species: Human

Love Interest: Lydia Martin

Summary: “Where you go, I go.” That has been the Matthews twins’ motto ever since they were little. They held onto it through the years, through every bully, every school, and every hit from their father. They held onto it when they moved to Beacon Hills with their mother, but between new friends, keeping secrets from those friends, and werewolves, staying together is looking to be harder than ever for the Matthews twins.

Name: Carys Geyer

Story: Love and War

Faceclaim: Vanessa Morgan

Species: Norse demigoddess

Love Interest: Brett Talbot

Summary:

Name: Chandler René

Story: Rise from the Ashes

Faceclaim: Ellie Bamber

Species: Phoenix

Love Interest: Scott McCall

Summary: Chandler didn’t mind moving to Beacon Hills, but she would have liked to have been given a choice. Waking up in a hospital, being told that her mother had been declared unfit, and then being driven by her new case worker to the small town wasn’t the best summer of her life. But she adapted- she always adapted. She spent the summer shopping with her cousin Lydia, getting to know her aunt Natalie, who was somehow over-bearing and distant at the same time, and preparing for junior year. Oh, and learning werewolves were real. Yeah, Chandler wasn’t expecting that in Beacon Hills. But meeting Scott McCall changed everything Chandler thought about the world.

Name: Charlotte Charlie Cooper

Story: Piece By Piece

Faceclaim: Madelyn Cline

Species: Mermaid

Love Interest: Scott McCall

Summary: Charlie Cooper grew up in Beacon Hills, best friends with Scott and Stiles ever since the first day of sixth grade. She thought that while she had a slightly more eccentric life than most, she was still normal, or her version of normal, anymore. But her definition of normal goes down the drain when she goes to find a dead body with her best friends, and Scott McCall suddenly doesn’t have asthma anymore.

Name: Charlotte Cooper

Story: Piece By Piece

Faceclaim: Lauren German

Species: Human

Love Interest: Noah Stilinski

Summary:

Name: Clarissa 'Clary' Nelson

Story: Divine Fire

Faceclaim: Natalie Alyn Lind

Species: REDACTED

Love Interest: Stiles Stilinski

Summary:

Name: Colin Michaels

Story: Dissonance

Faceclaim: Elliot Fletcher

Species: Greek demigod

Love Interest: Malia Tate

Summary:

*Percy Jackson crossover

Name: Desirado ‘Des’ Ferrer

Story: Ferrous

Faceclaim: Rachel Zegler

Species: Human turned werewolf

Summary:

Name: Diego Lovato

Story: This Be the Verse

Faceclaim: Alberto Rosende

Species: Born werewolf

Love Interest: Allison Argent

Summary:

Name: Ekko Holt

Story: The Sound of Thunder

Faceclaim: Devery Jacobs

Species: Thunderbird

Summary:

Name: Elizabeth ‘Eliza’ Arquette

Story: Red Riding Hood

Faceclaim: Dove Cameron

Species: Hunter turned werewolf

Love Interest: Scott McCall

Summary:

Name: Ember Drakos

Story: Aflame

Faceclaim: Anya Taylor-Joy

Species: Dragon

Love Interest: Stiles Stilinski

Summary:

Name: Emilia Bianchi

Story: Genesis

Faceclaim: Millie Gibson

Species: Fury

Love Interest: Stiles Stilinski

Summary:

[gardens-of-may]

ENTRY FOUR - chap. 69 to end

spoilers ahead

why do i do this to myself?

WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?

“On your marks, boys,” Tobias Hawthorne said on the recording. “Get set. Go.”

i feel like that’s kinda traumatic tho

alisa

wait what i thought she was kidnapped 

anyway, rebecca’s mom beat liam with a brick because he was going to leave but mr. laughlin stopped her and tobias said he’d take care of it 

HE HAS GRAYSON????

no

avery kylie grambs is a force to be reckoned with 

i can’t keep up with her

i love them 

so so much 

bitch

UGH

consequences to letting backstabbing bitches on your property 

HE LET HWR WIN

WHY???

toby, WHY DID YOU LET THAT BITCH WIN

okay avery

IM SHAKING IN MY BOOTS

YES MY BABY WON

my gosh what the fuck

avery what

you chose the nook

the grandest game 

OH

done 😣 (i was actually done like two days ago oops?)

[pasukiyo]

Hi! Not sure if you are still taking requests but I had an idea and so I was curious like Tom has no interest in Quidditch at all, a big zero but! How would Tom react when he comes to the play for the first time, because he promised reader that he would come and watch her play and then something goes wrong and he sees her gets badly hurt?

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!hufflepuff reader 5,694 words warnings: fluff (for once) slight angst summary: tom riddle wasn’t one for quidditch. or love. but everything he thought would be questioned the moment you convince him to come to a quidditch match, and he nearly loses you. it all feels like a dream.

 Tom Riddle remembered the day he began to fall in love all too well.

 It started off a day like any other, he remembered sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast, Tiernan Lestrange and Clarence Avery at his sides, the others on the opposite side of the table. The two of them were bickering back and forth about some Slytherin girl they both seemed to fancy, the others snickering behind their goblets while Tom remained silent, frankly quite uninterested in the topic as he chose to instead engross himself in his Astronomy book. 

 “She always sits nearest to me in Potions,” Tiernan was saying, leaning forward to glare at Clarence over the table. “It must be true love then, right Lestrange?” Liam Mulciber sniggered from behind the rim of his cup, and Tiernan turned to curl his lip at him. 

 “Well, she let me borrow her Divination book,” Avery replied, a smug look washing over his pale face. “I don’t suppose she lets you borrow any of her things?”

 “Divination?” Dolohov snorted across the table. “You don’t need the book for that class, all you have to do is make stuff up. Really, Clarence, she probably just thinks you’re stupid.”

 Lestrange’s body trembled with the force of his laugh, and Tom narrowed his eyes, trying to will his mind back on the black, inky words of his Astronomy book.

 “That’s not true,” Avery hissed, cheeks seared with scarlet flame. “I’ll have you know that I have top marks in—“

 “Would the two of you be so kind as to take your argument elsewhere?” Tom’s eye twitched and he tore through the conversation like a knife, leaving the others to tighten their lips, not daring to make even the smallest of sounds. “I am trying to read.”

 For a moment, all was silent, and the group blinked at Tom as his shoulders heaved in a sigh, attempting to re-immerse himself back in his book. Lestrange swallowed the boulder-sized lump that had formed at the base of his throat, bowing his head, the others following suit. “Yes, of course. Sorry, my Lord.”

 They didn’t dare utter a word for the remainder of breakfast and eventually, they all up and left, leaving Tom on his own at the Slytherin dining table, save for a group of third years at the end. At last, he could read in peace without the others breathing down his neck or arguing over something as silly as love in his ear. 

 Just as he flipped to the next page of the book, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open, laughter and conversation pinging off the stone walls of the large room, Tom’s focus all at once being thrown off course. His eye twitched again as he snapped his head up to the source of all the noise, his gaze following the mass of yellow Quidditch uniforms as they made their way over to the table on the far side of the Hall. 

 And just at the head of the group was her, hair swept back into a ponytail, her eyes locking onto his even from all the way across the room. Her face split into a brilliant smile and she raised a leather-clad hand above her head, wobbling it in a wave. 

 Tom Riddle blinked. 

 It was classic. It was her. 

 He should’ve anticipated this. She was always there, and for a reason unbeknownst to him, he was always drawn to her, could always feel her presence in a room, could always find her in a crowd. It was frustrating. It was irritating. It was disgusting. 

 He remembered watching as she sat to join the other Hufflepuff Quidditch players at their table— they must’ve had an early morning practice. He wasn’t sure why he felt inclined to care—after all, it was no secret that Tom Riddle loathed Quidditch. 

 He could never understand the interest. Why watch a bunch of fools fly around on broomsticks and toss balls into hoops when there were more beneficial ways to spend your time on? To be quite frank, Tom saw Quidditch as nothing more than a waste of time. 

 But even then, he still couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from her. Seeker and Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team— he’d heard she was actually quite good at the sport, but a series of losses seemed to muddy her reputation. He’d heard other Houses snicker about it before— “Hufflepuff’s Captain caught the Snitch again, but the team was still down nearly two hundred points, and they lost anyway. Honestly, how unlucky can you be?” 

 How unfortunate, indeed. 

 Even then, she seemed content with her team, her House, everything. Tom couldn’t seem to understand how someone could be so happy, so fine with having to settle with everyone else’s ignorance. Nevertheless, there she was, laughing and cheering with the rest of the Hufflepuff team, as if they weren’t the worst Quidditch team Hogwarts had seen in years. 

 She must’ve felt Tom’s stare on her, for he could see even from all the way across the Hall how she blinked and turned her head, her eyes quick to find his. Her face lifted into a grin and she raised her hand to wave again. 

 Tom pursed his lips and slammed his Astronomy book closed. He needed to leave. 

 Tucking his book under his arm, he pushed himself away from the Slytherin dining table, striding towards the double doors of the Great Hall. He could feel eyes beading into the back of his head and he sniffed at the feeling, willing himself to keep his head forward. 

 He couldn’t understand why she was capable of getting so into his head. No one had ever had such an effect on him before, so why her? They were polar opposites— she loved Quidditch, she loved being around people, she was outgoing, fun, and he was… well, quite introverted. 

 People adored him, even he, himself, knew it. He guessed it came with being Head Boy, along with his services to the school. But Tom was less than appreciative towards the attention he received— he wanted nothing more than to be left alone, whether it be by the other students or the teachers. Professor Slughorn, in particular, was one of his biggest obstacles. Even his followers were as burdensome as they were irritating, more times than not. 

 All Tom Riddle really needed was himself. He didn’t care for anyone else, and he never would. He had come this far without trusting anyone— so why did he feel like that all could potentially come crashing down because of her? Why did he feel a pull towards her, like metal to a magnet? 

 The irritation with himself grew like a weed inside of him and with each angry step he took up the Grand Staircase, he tore through his annoyance with a blade. He needed to get a grip on himself, and as he made his way down one of Hogwarts’ many long corridors, he chanted the same phrase over and over again inside of his head:

 You do not need anyone else. 

 He spent the latter half of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon in the Library, forcing his mind into the hardcover spread on the table before him, his fingers gripping either edge of the book like it was the only thing anchoring him down to the inky, black words on the pages. Still, he could not rid his mind of the Hufflepuff girl— but why? He tried to remember every interaction he had ever had with her, if there was anything she had said that seemed to stick with him. Instead, the image of her smile and the memory of her warm, benevolent words made his insides twist with a feeling he didn’t even want to acknowledge. 

 He’d tried his best up to this point to make himself as unlikeable as possible— but even being short with her or brushing her off altogether never seemed to steer her off course. She was always just there, finding him even during the rush of lunch or dinner, asking how his day was or wondering how he felt about his classes. She seemed to try to find anything to say that may keep his attention. 

 She was nothing if not for her persistence. 

 And no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she was annoying, he still found himself thinking of her, his mind burning with the way her face would split into a smile when she saw him, how happy she always seemed to be to see him. 

 He hated how fluttery his heart would feel at the notion that perhaps, she fancied him, his stomach doing somersaults at the idea of a relationship with her.

 Tom blinked down at his book. 

 This was really getting quite annoying. 

 For the second time that day, he slammed his book closed and sighed, leaning back into his seat, absentmindedly staring at the old hardcover. Perhaps a walk would suffice in clearing his mind— yes. Maybe all he needed was some fresh air in his lungs. 

 He pulled away from his seat and tucked the book away in his knapsack, nodding his head in acknowledgment to the old Librarian as he pushed the doors of the Library open. Keeping his lips pressed tight together, he clasped his hands behind his back as he ventured down the hallway towards the entrance to the Hogwarts Grounds, breathing the fresh air into his nostrils when he pushed the doors open, the afternoon sun kissing his pale cheeks. 

 The Grounds were bustling with students, which made sense, considering it was a Saturday. He just hoped he looked as unapproachable as possible— the last thing he needed was for someone to bother him, and he desperately hoped his followers weren’t around. He wasn’t confident he’d be able to bear their company without snapping at the moment. 

 It was warm today, the breeze adding the perfect amount of chill. The sky was a bright blue, and only a few wispy clouds painted its canvas. He thought for sure his mind would clear in no time—it was a beautiful day, after all. That was until just up ahead from the North exit of the Grounds emerged a group of students in bright yellow uniforms, their leader being none other than the very girl he had been trying to rid from his mind. 

 And of course, she was looking his way, and of course she was trotting up to him, that damned face illuminated with that damned smile. 

 “Tom!” She exclaimed as she jogged up, and once she was in front of him, he could see the faint traces of dirt on her cheeks, as well as the way the skin on her hairline glistened with a thin layer of sweat. His gaze flickered to her lips as her tongue swiped between them, and for a moment, he eyed the way her chest heaved as she caught her breath. 

 He could practically feel the knot tying itself at the base of his throat. 

 He cleared his throat and murmured her name in acknowledgment, nodding his head. “It’s a fine day today, isn’t it?” She asked, squinting her eyes as she gazed up at the sky. “I was lucky to have reserved the pitch for practice this morning. Finally beat your Neil Lament to the punch, for once.”

 He blinked— why was it that he suddenly seemed interested in Quidditch so long as she was the one talking about it?

 “Yes, I suppose,” he replied, his voice sounding void of emotion. This would usually be enough to scare anyone away— but not her. 

 “You know, I wish you’d come to our Quidditch matches, at least every once and awhile,” she leaned in, nudging his arm with her elbow. Tom tensed at the touch, the little hairs on the back of his neck standing erect, his skin erupting into flame in her touch’s wake. “We play Slytherin next Saturday, and we looked really good at practice today. Perhaps we’ll even have a shot at getting our first win of the season!”

 She trailed off, suddenly looking anywhere but at him. “I’d… I’d really love it if you’d come.”

 She blinked up at him, and she seemed to flush when he met her gaze, clasping a hand over her wrist. Tom could hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest at the realization that for some strange reason, he felt he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he disappointed her. His voice hardly felt like his own when he said, “perhaps, I will.”

 She blinked once, twice, thrice, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Tom, himself, couldn’t quite believe the words that had tumbled from his mouth either. 

 “Really?” Her lips curved into a grin and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth— Tom hoped the swift glance he stole to her mouth was as discreet as he intended it to be. She grasped the handle of her broomstick with either hand and she turned her head to glance over her shoulder at her team where they stood waiting, calling out her name and waving her back.

 She tried to conceal her smile as she began to back away from Tom, hugging her broom to her chest. “I’ll hold you to your word then,” she said. “I expect to see you there!”

 Tom watched as she turned and bounded back to her team, peering back over her shoulder at him as the others dragged her away towards the castle. 

 Tom couldn’t believe he agreed to go to a Quidditch match— something he’d avoided altogether for seven years— all because she said she wanted him to. Tom swallowed a lump of saliva back down his throat— strangely enough, he found himself looking forward to the match next week. 

 He didn’t think the Quidditch match that next Saturday could come any sooner. Of course, he’d seen her around the castle, but something within him couldn’t quite wait to see her reaction when she noticed him in the questionable Quidditch stands. 

 Course, he still didn’t understand why he felt the urge to go in the first place. Why was it that he hated the idea of letting her down if he didn’t show up?

 If Saturday had only crept up on him, then the time for the match to begin made a break straight for him and sent him pummeling to the ground— and it was only when he entered the empty Slytherin common room that he realized he was running terribly late. 

 He made haste for the common room exit, failing to notice the group of boys looming in the corner until they were right on his heels, and he stiffened at the sound of someone’s voice.

 “My Lord, we’ve been waiting for you all morning.”

 He turned to gaze at his followers, expression as hard as stone. Liam Mulciber was at the head of the group, and the ball at the base of his throat visibly bobbed when he swallowed, realizing nobody else was going to speak up. 

 “Forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord,” he murmured, wetting his lips with his tongue. Tom only looked at him, not bothering to feign interest. “Well, I… we… were wondering where you were going,” Liam managed at last, his shoulders now lax as he inhaled. Tom sniffed, “since when did my whereabouts become your business?”

 Liam Mulciber’s body tensed again, and the others seemed to be more interested in the floor than Tom. Mulciber’s lips moved to speak again, but the ticking of the mental clock in Tom’s mind was thundering now— he was late. 

 “If you all are done interrogating me now, I’d like to get moving,” Tom said simply, turning to push open the door of the common room. “I have somewhere to be.” 

 Tom left them in the common room speechless, the sound of the door slamming shut behind him echoing in the Slytherin dungeons. His heavy, methodical footsteps were next to permeate the stone corridor as he strode to the exit, pushing open the next set of doors until he was on the steps of the Grand Staircase. Seeing as nobody else was around, he fell into an uncharacteristic sprint up the stairs. 

 “Is that Tom Riddle?” One of the paintings on the wall asked somewhere behind him.

 “I suppose it is! Hah! Never seen that boy run a day in his life. Always so aloof, that one is,” he could hear another one say. He didn’t allow himself the time to even scowl at this remark. 

 He bursted through the doors leading to the Hogwarts Grounds, and just over the stone walls on the far side of the yard, he could see the top of the Quidditch pitch, a flurry of yellow and green uniforms every once and awhile peeking from behind the stands. He could hear the muffled cheers and chants even from all the way down where he stood and he huffed, making a break for the North exit. 

 When he finally arrived, he clambered up the first set of stairs leading up to the nearest green stand he could find, dusting off his robes and huffing when he reached the top. 

 So this is what the Quidditch pitch looked like, he thought to himself. He’d never been up in the sketchy wooden stands, never been on the pitch itself, never even been within feet from the bleachers. He could feel hundreds of eyes on him as he sat in the nearest available seat in the front row, pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw, ignoring the murmurs behind him. 

 “Jason Wilbrook scores another ten points for Hufflepuff! Hufflepuff is now up eighty to thirty!” 

 The Slytherin students around Tom all grumbled, the stands on either side erupting into cheers, chanting for Hufflepuff. He blinked— although he knew absolutely nothing that was going on in the game itself, he knew it was an absolute rarity that Hufflepuff was actually winning, and against Slytherin for that matter. 

 He scanned the air and the different players in yellow uniforms until he saw her, dormant where she sat on her broom, her ponytail whipping behind her as she searched— more than likely for the Snitch. But when she looked down and her line of vision seemed to aim straight for him, he knew the little golden ball wasn’t the only thing she had been looking for. 

 Even from all the way down where he was, he could see the way her skin lit up as her lips curved into that bright smile of hers, and he could already see her leather-clad hand raising above her hand to wobble down at him in a wave. Tom didn’t make any moves to reciprocate, but he couldn’t seem to peel away from her either. Not even when something small but shiny whipped by her and she gasped, squeezing the handle of her broom with either hand as she leaned forward in pursuit of the Snitch. 

 “Oh! It seems Hufflepuff’s Seeker has spotted the Snitch!” The announcer’s voice bellowed from the amplifier in his hand. “Hufflepuff scores another ten points, making the score ninety to thirty but— uh oh, it seems Slytherin’s own Seeker, Neil Lament, has spotted the Snitch as well!”

 It was all happening so fast, but still, Tom’s eyes were trained on her and the way her yellow uniform whipped behind her as well as her hair while she chased the Snitch. Neil Lament, a burly seventh year with olive skin was at her side, his lips curled in a snarl as he rammed his shoulder into her, nearly knocking her from her broom. 

 Tom could taste bile on his tongue and his brow deepened with a scowl. The other Slytherins around him were chanting Neil’s name, yelling foul things about her, things that he hadn’t even realized were making his blood boil until he felt his cheeks warm with vexation. 

 “Hufflepuff scores another ten points and— oh, Merlin! Neil Lament has shoved the Hufflepuff Seeker and—“

 Tom needn’t hear more. He saw it as it happened. 

 Neil was seething, and seemed to have enough with this race. Gripping the handle of his broomstick with black leather gloves, he used all of the strength he could muster in his body to throw his shoulder into the girl beside him and her fingers slipped from her broom, just barely managing to latch back on before it was too late. 

 With her heart thudding against her chest, she willed her balance back onto her broom, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as she looked up and—

 —everything went black. 

 Tom’s lips parted as he watched the large, mud-colored ball ram into the side of her head before dashing away as if nothing had happened. He watched as her fingers unhooked from around her broom and her eyelids fluttered closed, her consciousness slipping away from her as she fell slack, her body limp as it fell from the broom and began to make its long descent for the ground. 

 Tom’s fingers were curled around the wand in his robes before he could even wrap his head around what was happening, his lips parting and forming the word “Levioso!” just before her body could hit the ground below. His blood was running cold, frost icing over his lungs as he guided her down into the green of the pitch, and he released his breath as soon as she was sprawled on the grass. 

 Everything after was a blur. 

 He barely remembered the trip down the wobbling wooden stairs of the stands, hardly remembered searching for the entrance to the pitch, but he did remember when a group of teachers emerged from beneath one of the stands, her body limp in the arms of Albus Dumbledore. 

 His feet were moving without his brain willing them to, and it wasn’t long before the professors acknowledged his presence. 

 “Tom, my boy,” Professor Slughorn’s lips curved into a smile as he grabbed his shoulders, locking him in place as her body was being taken away. His eyes couldn’t leave her. “That was you that casted the Levicorpus charm on her, yes? I must say, I admire your quick thinking and—“

 “Apologies, Professor. But I wish to see to her—“

 “Not to worry, dear boy,” Slughorn clapped his shoulder, brushing a piece of lint from the black of Tom’s robes. “Rest assured, Madame Everleigh will see to it that she’s nursed back to full health. Now, in the meantime—“

 Tom couldn’t bear to hear whatever it was Slughorn had to say next. He was tearing away from the professor’s grip and making long strides toward the castle where Albus Dumbledore, along with the rest of the teachers, disappeared into. His feet were on autopilot, making a beeline for the Hospital Wing. 

 When he finally arrived, she was already settled onto a bed, Dumbledore and a few other teachers talking amongst themselves as the Matron, Madame Everleigh, tended to her. Albus Dumbledore caught Tom’s eyes where he stood at the entrance to the infirmary. He excused himself from the other teachers and sauntered over to where Tom stood, hands clasped behind his back. 

 “That was some quick thinking you had back there,” Professor Dumbledore praised, but Tom was hardly comprehending his words. “Is she alright?” Was all Tom could bring himself to ask, and Dumbledore turned to glance over his shoulder before turning back to Tom, pursing his lips and nodding his head. “She’s unconscious, but she’s stable. She’ll definitely wake up with a ghastly headache, that’s for certain.”

 Tom blinked, expressionless. He wasn’t one for humor. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore already knew that. He wouldn’t question it, for now. 

 “I’m sure Madame Everleigh will have nursed her back to consciousness soon,” Dumbledore said. “She needs rest. I wouldn’t suppose Mrs Everleigh would find any issue in you keeping her some company, so long as you stay out of her way.”

 Tom bowed his head, and Dumbledore reciprocated as he watched the Head Boy pass by, noting the concern the boy had for the girl lying on the hospital bed. Interesting, Albus Dumbledore thought to himself before ambling towards the exit, pushing open the door in front of him. 

 Madame Everleigh paid him no mind, most likely not even realizing he was there at all as she fluffed the pillow beneath the girl’s head, making sure it was well supported. The other teachers had since dispersed, leaving the only ones left in the infirmary Tom Riddle, Madame Everleigh, the Hufflepuff Captain, and a young Gryffindor on the opposite wall, groaning into a large tin bucket. 

 Tom cleared his throat and it was then that Madame Everleigh acknowledged his presence, blinking up at him. “Excuse me, Madame Everleigh,” he began. “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed and kept her some company, would you?”

 Madame Everleigh shrugged, her small frame circling the bed to reach for something from the table on the other side. “So long as you stay out of my way, I see no problem with it.”

 Tom Riddle spent the afternoon sitting in a chair at her bedside, letting Madame Everleigh tell the other Hufflepuff Quidditch players her condition when they finally arrived, a somber air around them as they grumbled about their loss when the game had started off so promising. 

 It wasn’t until after dinner that the girl on the bed finally began to stir, and Tom pushed himself up on his seat, blinking down at her as her eyelids began to peel open. She grumbled something incoherent as she cradled the side of her head, the very one the bludger had hit hours before. 

 When she finally came to, she squinted over to the boy at her bedside. “Tom?” Her voice was low in a hoarse whisper, and Madame Everleigh was quick to join her at her other side, holding a cup of water to her lips. 

 “You will be sore for a while,” the Matron informed her. “It’s best if you stay here and rest for the time being. You’re lucky you weren’t unconscious for days.”

 She waited until Madame Everleigh was gone before turning back to Tom, even in pain, her face splitting into a smile. “Quite the first Quidditch match for you, wasn’t it?” 

 Tom, with his expression as hard as ever, leaned back in his seat and scoffed, not a hint of amusement on his face. He couldn’t believe she was cracking jokes when she was in pain, when he was over here worried for her. Her ignorance was astounding. 

 “You were hurt,” he replied, voice deep and rumbling. Her smile dropped and she frowned, furrowing her brows. “But I’m alright now,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. For a few moments, neither said anything. Her gaze was penetrating, as if she were trying to see through him. 

 None had ever tried and succeeded before. 

 “You were worried for me, weren’t you?”

 Until now. 

 Tom blinked, his eye twitching as he tore his gaze away from her, choosing to instead peer out the windows on the far wall. It was all becoming too real, this ever-growing feeling inside of him for the girl before him. Up until now, he could’ve played it off as being all in his head. But now that she was saying it aloud— it was too much. Too real. 

 She released a breathy laugh, and she reached to prod a finger against his forearm, his skin tingling with the phantom of her touch. “You were totally worried about me,” she tittered. “How lucky am I to have Tom Riddle, Hogwarts’ very own Head Boy looking after me?”

 Tom sunk his molars into the flesh of the inside of his cheek and he sniffed, shifting in his seat. “Do you want an award or something?” He questioned, and she chuckled. “Now he’s making jokes?” She raised an eyebrow to her hairline. “You’re full of surprises, Tom Riddle.”

 “It’s called being sarcastic.”

 “Is it?”

 Tom pressed his lips together to form thin, white lines and after a few beats, she turned back to look at him. “What happened after I got a bludger to the head?” She asked, noting the blackness outside the hospital windows. Tom shifted in his seat. “I left after you were injured,” he replied. “Your teammates came to visit.”

 She perked at this. “What did they say? Did we win?” She asked, and Tom shook his head. “They said they substituted another Seeker in for you. Hufflepuff lost one hundred to two hundred and forty.”

 She groaned and banged her fist against the mattress, spatting a “damn!” She grumbled, “if not for that blasted Neil Lament, I would’ve had the Snitch and we would have actually won for once.”

 Tom scoffed at this and she eyed him from the corner of her sockets. “What?” The wrinkle in her brow deepened at this. “Last I checked, you don’t even care for Quidditch. Why should you care if your team gets another measly win?”

 Tom rolled his eyes, “I don’t care about Quidditch. It’s the fact that you’re fussing over a damn sport when you’re lying in a hospital bed, injured.” 

 Silence swept over them like a wave and she blinked over at Tom who couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore, staring out the windows instead, his arms folded over his chest. She eyed his pale skin, the sharpness of his jaw, his full, pink lips as they pursed together, his piercing, dark eyes as they looked anywhere but at her. 

 She could feel her heart as it drummed in her chest, a warmth washing over her that she’d felt many times before. She ached with affection for him, ached with want, with desire. And now that he was sitting here, her only acquaintance in the otherwise empty hospital— save for the small Gryffindor boy now sound asleep on the other side of the room— she felt a burning in her chest, a burning of hope that he felt the same way too. 

 After all, why else would he spend his entire day sitting with her until she woke up when he was always so insistent on using his time for other more important things? With the clearing of her throat, she mustered all the confidence she could to her mouth as her words formed on the tip of her tongue. 

 “You know, if I didn’t know any better Tom, I’d think you were falling for me.”

 Her heart was racing, especially when he turned to gaze back down at her, that murky, black stare of his piercing right through her. She felt like she was suffocating the longer he made her wait for his response, she could feel the crimson heat as it crept to her cheeks. 

 Tom Riddle was usually calm, cool, and collected, always knew what to say and when to say it. This was the first time he could remember being rendered speechless. 

 It was real now— never had anyone been able to see through him before, no one had ever been able to see him, to slowly begin to figure him out. But she did. She somehow knew about this strange and foreign feeling within him, something he wasn’t sure what to name. Attraction? Desire? Infatuation? Love?

 Could this be love? Could love be this sudden, this unexpected? Could this be what love was, to care so deeply for someone without even fully understanding why? To burn for someone else, to have your heart beat erratically at just the idea of them? Was love something else?

 Tom didn’t know. But perhaps, this was what it was like to fall in love with someone else. This was a day he’d remember all too well. 

 Tom straightened in his seat and cleared the heavy lump in his throat, his lip quivering as he opened his mouth, although unsure what to say. “Perhaps, I am.”

 Her lips parted and her brows knit together, and suddenly, she didn’t feel like she’d just taken a bludger to the head, or that she had nearly fallen to her death only hours ago. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than for Tom Riddle to kiss her. Her lips were practically throbbing with the idea of Tom’s on them. 

 “I don’t know whether or not I’m dreaming right now. And I really, really hope I’m not,” she murmured, losing herself further into the darkness of his eyes until she couldn’t tell when she ended and he began anymore. “Perhaps I’m dead and this is all just a hallucination,” she whispered, breathless. “Whether or not this is real, I’d really like for you to kiss me right now.”

 Tom could feel warmth surge through him at her words, his lip quivering as he leaned forward, their faces now so close, their lips but mere wisps against one another. “I hope you aren’t dreaming either,” he murmured and she trembled, feeling her lungs shudder in her chest. 

 And then Tom’s lips were on hers, and she was sure this was real. 

 Tom Riddle’s lips were on hers, soft and pliant, kissing her with an urgent, tender need. If she was a candle, then he was her flame, and she was melting like wax, sinking further and further down into the plush of the hospital bed’s mattress. If it weren’t for the pain in her head, she’d follow his lips when he pulled away, blinking down at her. Her gaze met his and his irises were so dark, she couldn’t quite tell when his pupils began or ended. 

 All she could feel was his hot breath as it lingered like an ember on her skin, and she shuddered as she exhaled. “If I’m dreaming, please don’t pinch me,” she whispered, and Tom breathed, the closest she’d ever heard him come to a laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured back and the corners of her lips curved into a smile, a giggle slipping through the cracks. 

 Tom Riddle was making a joke. 

a/n; i literally just finished writing this like twenty minutes ago and i shit you not, i wrote the last like 3k words of this in one sitting 😭 not sure how i feel about the beginning, but i think i feel good about my writing at the end for once. and i actually wrote fluff and not smut for once!! look at me!! anyways, IM NOW CAUGHT UP WITH REQUESTS! so feel free to send in more if you’d like lol

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza @lyis @upsidedownspidey @michelle-26

[xstrawberryshiftsx]

Cabin 10 <3

This is what Cabin 10 is like in my dr!!!!

Name: {redacted} Dove

age: 16

personality: Infp!

appearance:

nationality: Australian!

Cabin exterior:

cabin interior:

my bunk:

Fav Siblings:

Avery: 16/estp/very similar to max mayfield

Rania: 16/intp/very similar to dipper pines

Dylan: 17/esfp/idk who he’s based on

Liam: 16/entp/based off chandler bing

May: 16/esfj/based off ochako

Sam: 17/entp/based of nick wilde

Powers:

Charm speak:

shape shifting: i can change into anyone but my eyes stay pink

control of water:

control of plants meaning love (roses, Myrtles etc):

can speak to doves and swans and dolphins:

I can curse people to be ugly or unloved:

I can mimic voices:

(I also have powers of hades because I’m a child of Aphrodite and Hades)

I’m known as the Aphrodite IT girl and ‘aphrodites favourite’ (I love my mum)

my main job is head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin and match maker!

[tricodekus]

An art genie grants you three wishes relating to art things. What do you ask for?

THREE WISHES?? for any art thing?? oh boy!! um,,,

James and Keith, cuddling in their garrison quarters, with a laptop and snacks and their garrison pjs.

Probably some oc stuff....... Maybe Avery and Liam balcony scene (I'm listening to West Side Story songs)

And for my third wish!!!!!! Hmmm. HAIKYU TSUKKI!!! Doing anything. I love that beanpole. Maybe him with hinata bc height difference so cute!!!!

[jennierubyjaneanon]

I love you and me dancing in the moonlight nobody can see its just you and me tonight 🤍

@kaianon 🤍 @haruanon @violetjune-anon @lilyjane-anon @paigejohnson @kittenanon @theolivestheory @juliette-bishop @elhopperanon @vi-anon @ivy-anon @jonathanbyersanon @steve-harrington-anon @eddiemunsonanon @mikewheeler-anon @amelia-anon @daniwood-anon @kyleknightanon @avery-brookeranon @matthewanon @abigail-anon @chrissy-anon @mckayla-anon @fredweasleyanonn @harleyanon @hazel-anon @samuelinsull-anon @alison-anon @sallyanon @alexanon @derekdiscanioanon @beckymunsonanon @taylor-anon @spenceranon @sierra-anonn @morgan-anon @bailey-anonn @samharrington-anon @charlotte-anon @igorbelikovanon @ethan-anon @malia-ozeraanon @conneranon @liam-anon @daniellalaurent @berkshire-boy @wendyanon @alexis-weasley +anyone