a small drabble challenge to celebrate hitting 100 followers! also to help each other and our followers get to know our next gen characters a little better. ten prompts, ten pieces of writing, no pressure to do anything more than a couple of hundred words for each one.
if you’d like to take part just tag #nextgenwritingmeme, members and followers alike!
the challenge is as follows - write a fic about:
your favourite oc based on the song most recently added to your spotify/itunes/etc
a next gen canon who was sorted into an unexpected house
any character + “this is so sad alexa play _____”
a canon and an oc falling in love
any character who is a magical creature (e.g. part-Veela, a werewolf, a vampire, a metamorphagus) based on a recent reblog you have made to your main/personal blog
any character trying to make it in an unusual profession
a friendship squad, canons or ocs or both, with a reference to your favourite tv series
any character who is involved in the wizarding criminal underworld
how your favourite canon or oc got their name
any character meeting Wizarding World Saviour Harry James Potter
next gen writing meme [1/10]: your favourite oc based on the song most recently added to your spotify
↯ leonora greengrass + turn me on by kevin lyttle
The beat is pulsing in her chest, her ribs humming with the bassline. With the disco lights on her pale skin she looks like a walking trip, bare shoulders washing from blue to green to red. Lo catches some guy’s eye and smiles, just a little, adding an extra bit of shimmy to her hips.
She spots Rose from across the dance floor and, sliding through the crush, manages to make it over to her. Rose looks uncomfortable enough to die, her long hair pulled up and back in a tight unflattering ponytail, her blue eyes lashing around the club like there’s someone she’s afraid of about to pounce on her.
“Come on,” Lo shouts in her ear, leaning in, “come with me.”
She drags her into the bathroom and full-on shoves a former Slytherin housemate away from the best mirror. The girl caterwauls, but she’s too drunk to really mind, and soon stumbles out to join her friends again.
“What are you—” starts Rose, but doesn’t get any further before Lo is attacking her, yanking her hair out of the awful ponytail, painting her lips daring red, even pulling out her wand to Vanish Rose’s heinous shapeless jumper.
“You must have been boiling,” Lo says unrepentantly, “I’ll buy you a new one.”
Finished, she steps back and examines her half-sister. Rose is swaying uncertainly, hair sultry and tousled, red lips slightly parted, eyes darkly rimmed.
“Shit,” says Lo, more to herself than anyone, “I’m good.”
And with that, she pulls Rose back out of the bathroom, and zones in on a raucous group of boys. They’re vaguely familiar, one in particular, and Lo is halfway across to them when Rose grabs her arm and says, “No, shit, Lo, those are those awful Quidditch players.”
Lo plants them both at the heart of the boys group and says, “Hello, lads. This is my sister. She thinks clubs are boring.”
The boys shift around them both, a breaking wave, and shoot glances at each other uncertainly. Lo doesn’t move an inch. She catches the eye of the leader, obvious from the way the others look to him, and tilts her head as if to say, and what?
His gaze goes down her and back up, studious, and then he gives Rose the same once over.
“Barrett,” he says, collaring one of his mates, “why don’t you get the lady a drink?”
And with that, Lo shoves Rose off, stepping in closer to the leader as the pair head awkwardly over to the bar.
“It’s alright.” The leader has leaned in close from behind, his breath hot on her ear, talking loud to be heard over the music. “Barrett’s a good ‘un. He’ll look after her. Five older sisters, you know.”
“Shit,” says Lo, turning against him, brushing every interestingly muscled bit she can get to. “That’s a lot of sisters.”
“That is.” He holds a hand out, steady and certain. “I’m Xander.”
She takes it instead of shaking it, flirting closer. “Lo.”
“Want to dance, Lo?”
She glances back once, quickly, at Rose, already laughing at something Barrett has said, and then back up at Xander. His blue eyes are very bright in the low lights.
“I think so,” she decides at last, and lets him pull her out onto the dance floor.
It is just to distract herself while Rose makes a new friend, of course. Just a chance to dance, which she loves, and show off, which she loves more. She’ll ditch Xander the second Rose shows signs of leaving, and she won’t be sorry.
No, really, she won’t. Even if he really can move, even if the beat is thrumming through her and making her hips move just so, even if his hand on her waist feels hot as heaven—
