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strawbeerossi · 9 months

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You Think, Genius?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.

Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).

Word Count: 2.7k

Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷

“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.

Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.

“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.

“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”

The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.

“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.

As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.

“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”

Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.

“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.

He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.

“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.

“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.

“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.

“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.

“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.

“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.

“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.

“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.

“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.

“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”

“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”

The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.

Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.

“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”

“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”

“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”

You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”

Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.

“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.

“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”

“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.

“That could’ve taken out my eye!”

“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”

That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.

“Is it a war that you want?”

“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”

That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.

“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”

“Never.”

“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.

“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”

“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.

There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.

There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.

There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.

It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.

Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.

The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.

“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”

Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.

“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.

“Are you gonna pay me for this?”

“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.

“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”

“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.

You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.

After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.

“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.

When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.

There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.

There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.

Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.

They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.

It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.

It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.

As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.

It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.

“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.

“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”

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userpeggycarter · 6 months

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@lgbtqcreators creator bingo 💖 animation.

PEGGY WEEK 2024

day seven — birthday extravaganza 🥳

OMG its Blorbo Bleebus!

[in ● sp] [id under the cut]

gifset about Peggy Carter from the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

gif 1 of 7. two close-up shots of Peggy are blended together. at the middle, there's a static image of Peggy with her arms crossed. the text says, "OMG this motherfucker is Peggy Carter".

gif 2 of 7. two gifs of Peggy are blended together. there are stats bars at the bottom of the gif. the pairings (extremities) are:

just some guy - the protagonist of life head empty - too many thoughts awful company - ray of sunshine hated by all - loved by all trauma 3000 - untouched by history sadistic for fun - helps others for fun stupid as shit - scary-smart 1000 weapons - 1000 tools enemy of god - at peace with life break the rules - change the rules

gif 3 of 7. two shots of Peggy are blended together, one of them being of Captain Carter. the text says, "evokes" and the options are the following:

spontaneous gushing powerful violent urges raw, unbridled affection the horny meta-posting on main creative drive defensive feelings distraction delight symptoms of projection absent-minded doodles on tabletops the most godawful takes known to mankind

all options have a checkmark next to them.

gif 4 of 7. two close-up shots of Peggy are blended together. there's a chart at the center of the gif, titled "subclass". the subclasses are:

angst lady enemy of the state friend shaped girlboss soft and sweet brain cell haver just like you fr aspirational character chew toy

the angst lady, enemy of the state, girlboss, brain cell haver and aspirational character options are marked with a circle.

gif 5 of 7. two shots of Peggy are blended together. at the center of the gif, there are three stats (intense, complex, and fruity) with 10 points each. Peggy has all 30 points. while the intense and complex points are green, the fruity ones have the colors of the bisexual flag (blue, pink, and purple). at the bottom left corner, there's a big asterisk with the following text next to it: if you or a loved one is attached to a character that fills all of these boxes, you may be entitled to financial compensation.

gif 6 of 7. two close-up shots of an animated Peggy are blended together. the text says, "you want them to have...". the list is the following:

a better time less trauma more romance more friends catharsis revenger sympathy a better situation more healing more sex The Realization and a trademark symbol next to it.

all options have a checkmark next to them.

gif 7 of 7. two shots of Peggy are blended together, a close-up and her silhouette entering a room. "select all that apply", the text says. the list is the following:

tragic backstory? orphan? frequently violent? divorced? has enemies? sidekick owner? no friends? pets stray animals? chronic insomniac? murderer?

there's a checkmark next to "tragic backstory", "frequently violent", "has enemies", "sidekick owner", "pets stray animals", and "murderer". each checkmark has a color that corresponds to a small static image at the bottom of the gif. the tragic backstory one is an image of Peggy crying. the frequently violent one is an image of her holding a gun. has enemies: a picture of Dottie. sidekick owner: a picture of her and Jarvis. pets stray animals: a picture of Peggy holding a puppy. murderer: yet another picture of her holding a gun. end ID.

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fuxuannie · 1 year

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↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales x you

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undergaunts · 3 months

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A Long Time Coming

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: aka three times Sebastian is a flirt, one time he gets called out on it, and one time he finally does something about it.

Rating: Teen & up (very light suggestive moment but nothing extreme)

Word count: 5.4k

Read on AO3 or below the cut <3

The Library is almost silent - unusually quiet for a Wednesday afternoon. Only the subtle sound of a ticking clock, and the occasional turn of a page breaks through the quiet. Somewhere amongst the bookshelves, Madam Scribner is ensuring the books are in the correct places, and a couple of first years had run off, upstairs undoubtedly, in an attempt to find a book that doesn’t exist, tricked by second years into believing it does.

In the centre of the room, seated at a wooden bench, heads buried in their homework, were the Slytherin trio, who these days seemed to never leave each others sides.

She’s focused on writing what seems to be a remarkably boring essay for Potions, hair tucked behind her ears as she scribbles away, quill rough against the parchment, cursive writing adorning the tanned sheet.

Ominis is tracing the shapes of words in his book with his finger, frowning every so often when he comes across something so ridiculous that he wonders if throwing it across the room would help him understand it more.

And Sebastian is - well, Sebastian has decidedly given up, doodling various patterns into the margins of his Herbology book. Only when his quill runs out of ink does he groan, rather too loudly, dropping his head onto the page in frustration.

“I’m bored,” he informs his friends, and Ominis immediately shushes him. “Sorry, but this is so boring!”

“I don’t care if you are bored,” Ominis almost hisses, his milky eyes searching in Sebastian’s direction, finger never once leaving the page of his book. “We are busy. I’m sure there’s something for you to do elsewhere.”

Sebastian has been used to Ominis’, what he would call ‘soft rage’ for a long time (he often gets angry at varying things, but he’d never do anything physical about it), but he still flinches a little, lifting his head from the book, before turning his focus to the girl next to him.

She’s still writing, evidently not as bothered by Sebastian as Ominis is. He watches her for a minute or so, marvelling at how quickly she glides the quill across the paper, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I can feel your eyes burning a hole into my skin, Sebastian,” she whispers, momentarily glancing at him, before continuing to write.

He smiles, still watching, as she finally comes to the end of the page, and, thankfully, the end of her essay.

She places the quill down, quickly scanning over the parchment for any mistakes, before pushing it to the side to dry. She lets out a long, deep breath, stretching her neck from side to side, and flexes her hands, shaking out the stress and the aches from the day.

She’s got small hands, Sebastian thinks, even Anne’s hands are bigger than hers.

“My hands aren’t small,” she frowns at him - Ominis shoots them an angered look - and Sebastian realises his thoughts were not contained in his head, but actually said out loud. He’d blame it on his tiredness from studying, but he hadn’t really been studying. He was just an idiot.

“Well,” he straightens his back, coughing a little in an attempt to cover up for the light blush covering his freckled cheeks. “I just mean…no, you do have small hands.”

She scoffs. “They’re not small. They can’t be that much smaller than yours or Ominis’.”

“Ominis’ hands are freakishly large,” Sebastian retorts. It is not entirely true - Ominis’ fingers are long and slender, making them seem a lot bigger than they are, but they’re not freakish. Just a tad strange.

Ominis rolls his eyes, then uses one of those hands to cover an ear so he can continue to read.

“Then they are not much smaller than yours.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, then a hand, palm pointing towards her. “Look. My hands are big,” he says, proudly. “Compare yours to mine.”

She lifts her hand, pressing her palm against his in a quick motion, fingers splaying to rest against his. He can feel the pink on his cheeks spreading further and deepening in colour, so he coughs again.

“Oh,” she laughs. It’s rather obvious - the size difference. Sebastian’s hands are bigger. Not hugely - not in a weird way like Ominis’! - but definitely. He could cover her hand with his, easily. Her fingers could interlock with his, rather comfortably.

“I told you, did I not?” Sebastian smiles. He’s glad he was right, and takes joy in proving her wrong - possibly for the first time.

“You did,” she sighs, dropping her hand from his. “You are correct, Sebastian Sallow. For once.”

He’s grinning, oh so proud, and she laughs at him, shaking her head. “Let me just,” he says, grabbing her wrist and pressing her hand against his again, confirming what they already knew. He’d never deny he was a gloater. “You see this, Ominis?”

Across the table, Ominis is glaring, fires almost burning through the white snow of his eyes.

“No, of course I don’t see.” Ominis responds, and this time, the entirety of Sebastian’s face turns bright red.

II.

Sebastian has been watching the door all evening. First, it was the Undercroft gate, then the Slytherin common room door, and now the Great Hall. None of the doors had opened, to reveal the girl he was waiting to see.

Damned doors, and their constant closure.

She’d been gone all day, from the very moment the sun had started to rise, til now, as it was setting. She was undoubtedly doing some good deed for someone she’d never met before, in a hamlet she’d never been to casting spells she’d hardly practised.

Curse her, and her kindness.

Sebastian had had the brilliant idea to save her a portion of the roast dinner they’d been served, but it was getting cold now, and he was getting increasingly worried as the minutes went by. Had she been eaten by an Acromantula? Kidnapped by poachers? Mauled by a pack of dark mongrels?

“I can feel your worry from over here,” Ominis says. He’s sitting across from Sebastian, putting his last pieces of potato into his mouth. “It’s souring my supper.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian responds. He’s not really sorry, but he prefers to sate Ominis’ frustration. “She’s been gone since this morning. She’s usually not gone for more than a few hours at a time.”

“But she is often gone for a long time,” Ominis places his knife and fork, parallel in the centre of his plate, before picking his napkin up to wipe his mouth. “She is the hero of Hogwarts, after all. And a rather busy hero at that.”

Almost as if to cut them off, the dirty plates and empty trays of food suddenly disappear, and then reappear, replaced by dishes of apple pie, sticky toffee pudding and custard. Most of the students hurriedly scramble for their dessert - it’s always the most popular part of the meal.

Sebastian quickly reaches for a portion of the sticky toffee pudding, which is snatched away by Imelda with a sneer. He shoots her daggers, before quickly grabbing another portion, this time successfully. He tries to grab another - to set it aside for his friend when she finally gets back - but it is taken by a third year, before he could even start to reach.

With a wave of his wand, Ominis manages to grab himself a portion of pie, before every plate of dessert has been spoken for.

Sebastian huffs, realising she now only has a cold plate of roast dinner to come back to.

If she ever does.

He returns to the previous conversation, a frown on his face.

“No, she…she should’ve been back by now, she should be-“

It is, at that moment, ironically, that the large doors to the Great Hall open, and she walks through them, perfectly alive. A little windswept, to be sure, a slight rip at the bottom of her skirt, and a tiny cut on her lower lip. But alive.

Sebastian stands up. She spots him in the crowd of people, and immediately smiles, running over to squeeze herself into the spot on the bench next to him.

He can feel his heart go from aching, to relief, to almost beating out of his chest within seconds.

“What a day!” She laughs, sighing as she sits down, Sebastian soon following her. There’s a small smile pulling at Ominis’ lips, and Sebastian allows himself to smile too.

“Sebastian was rather worried about you,” Ominis says, and in that moment, Sebastian wonders, if he leapt across the table, would his hands accurately find Ominis’ neck so he could choke him?

“Only Sebastian?” She asks, and Ominis, this time, smiles a little wider, a slight glint of white teeth showing past his lips

“I was worried too, I am not afraid to admit. But he wouldn’t stop worrying aloud,” Ominis brings a spoon of his pie to his mouth. “It was rather irritating.”

“Oh,” she laughs, side-eyeing Sebastian, who blushes (annoyingly, he’s been blushing far too much lately). He nudges her, in a ‘please-redirect-your-attention-away-from-my-red-face’ kind of way, pointing her to the dinner he’d saved her.

“It’s a bit cold but…”

“Oh marvellous!” She grins, pulling the plate toward her and grabbing a fork, which she stabs into a piece of carrot. “I’ve not eaten all day!”

In the least weird way he can possibly muster (which is still extremely weird, he must admit), he watches her eat, enjoying that she is enjoying her food, glad she is safe and sound. He sighs, softly, allowing himself to relax before taking his spoon and slowly starting to eat his dessert.

Once she finishes her food (which doesn’t take her all that long to eat, clearly hungry from an exhausting day, she takes a long drink of the glass of lemonade that had poured itself for her, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She takes a moment to breathe, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. Sebastian sees her look around a little, at the other students still picking away at their puddings.

“I did try to save you a portion,” Sebastian says, and she looks at him, shaking her head.

“It’s alright. I was very late. And some people,” she glares across the room at Leander, who has two plates of desserts in front of him, alternating bites between the two. “Always take too much.”

But he can see it in her face. She’s a little disappointed. It’s only a silly thing; a dessert, for Merlin’s sake, but he feels guilty.

So he drops his spoon, and slides the rest of his pudding to her. “Here. Have mine.”

She rolls her eyes at him, and pushes it back. “Honestly, you’ve done enough, Sebastian. I could’ve not eaten at all.”

He pushes it back to her. “Please.”

Again, she slides it. “No.”

“I’m not arguing,” Sebastian again pushes the bowl, and holds it there, picking the spoon up and offering it to her. “Just have it. It’ll make me happy.”

“Sebastian-“

“Merlin’s beard,” Ominis mutters. “Just eat the damned pudding, would you? Or I think he might explode.”

She laughs. Sebastian laughs. Ominis glares. Just the way it should be.

Thank the Gods she’s fine.

III.

The weekend Sebastian had spent in Feldcroft was lovely. Perfect, even. Spending time with Anne was rare these days, so to be with her, uninterrupted for forty-eight straight hours was joyous. He really did miss her.

Yet, returning to Hogwarts didn’t make him feel sad. He actually felt excited, for the first time in a long time, to get back. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he just knew, as he entered the school grounds, that the butterflies in his stomach weren’t just for his return to Transfiguration class.

As he walked the school, he realised he’d missed supper, it seemed, from the hordes of students gathered throughout the corridors near the Great Hall.

Sebastian desperately tried to find a familiar face (or at least one he wanted to see - Leander and Gareth were easily seen with their red heads, but he didn’t fancy talking to Idiot One or Idiot Two).

It took a little while of searching, before he found a group gathered in a more secluded area. He noted Natsai, Poppy, Amit, Ominis, and her.

Sebastian grinned. He hadn’t noticed the smile creeping onto his face at all really. He simply let his feet do the walking, striding over to his friends, and without warning, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her into a bear hug from behind.

“Oh!” She jumped, but laughed almost immediately, as if she knew it was him just from his touch.

Surely not.

“Hi,” Sebastian smiles, pulling her close to him, resting his chin in the dip of her shoulder, and looking at the group in front of him. “Hi guys.”

For a moment, they all look stunned. Weird, Sebastian thinks, perhaps they didn’t expect me back so soon

“Hello Sebastian,” Natty is the first to speak, breaking what was starting to feel like an awkward silence. “We had just been speaking about you.”

“Oh?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow, glancing between each persons face, all looking a different level of uncomfortable

“We were just discussing how we think you should-“ Poppy starts to say.

“We,” she chimes in, her hands tugging at Sebastian’s arm, pulling him off of her. He’d be offended, but she quickly redirects him, pulling his arm around her shoulders, and tucking him into her side. He feels her arm wrap around his waist, and decides this is possibly better. “We’re thinking you should spend more weekends in Feldcroft.”

“Ah, dying to get rid of me?”

“Always,” she smiles. Sebastian has a hard time tearing his eyes away, wondering how she often looks like she’s glowing. Like sun is emanating from her very soul. It’s addictive.

“We should probably return to our common rooms and rest for a bright and early start in the morning!” Amit chimes in, and Natty and Poppy nod, agreeing.

“Alright,” Sebastian shrugs. He notices Natty tilt her head a little, and before he knows it, his arm is being pushed away, and his side is left cold and empty.

“We’re just trying to work out a charm,” she says, stepping over to Natty. “I’ll see you two in the common room a little later?” She gestures to Sebastian and Ominis.

“Of course,” Ominis finally speaks up. The group disperses, and Sebastian finds himself having to jog to catch up to Ominis, who seems like a man on a mission to get to bed.

“Wait!” Sebastian finds himself laughing as he finally catches up to his best friend. Ominis huffs, which causes Sebastian to reach out, grabbing his arm and stopping him mid stride. “Is something wrong?”

“With me? Oh, no. But I do believe something is wrong with you, Sebastian,” Ominis shakes his head. His brows are furrowed, almost angry, yet he seems more frustrated than anything. “It is almost aggravating. I cannot understand how you are yet to see the issue at hand.”

He’s speaking in riddles, Sebastian is sure of it. The blond was always one to be mysterious, but this is taking it to whole other level.

Sebastian doesn’t respond, which, in itself, is clearly a response enough for Ominis, who turns on his heel, and with a small flick of his wand, is on his way, leaving Sebastian standing in the hallway to ponder whatever in Merlin’s name is going on

IV.

“Sebastian!”

His head whips around, trying to see who or what called his name, but there’s a few too many people outside the Bell Tower to actually see. He stands on the tips of his toes, before he finally sees the culprit - Poppy, who is heading towards him, determination on her face and…a Slytherin scarf in hand?

He frowns - his scarf is definitely back in the dorm, and it’s rare for Ominis to wear his anyway, so…

“Could you-“ Poppy starts.

“Is that-“ Sebastian questions.

“She left it in Beasts class earlier,” Poppy confirms. She’s come to a stop in front of Sebastian, and hands him the scarf, which he takes, gladly. “Could you return it to her? I’m afraid she’ll get cold without it.”

“No problem,” Sebastian nods, and Poppy smiles. She thanks him quickly, before scurrying off. Poppy was weird, always had been, really, but Sebastian guessed they were friends by association, so tried not to judge too much.

He’s left, standing there, holding a scarf. Her scarf. It’s strange, but for a moment he doesn’t know what to do. It’s like his legs won’t move, too focused on this object in his left hand.

He can’t quite understand why.

But luckily he shakes it off, and starts to head for the Slytherin common room. Poppy was right, she might get cold without her scarf. She’s got more, yes, but…well, she probably preferred this one. It’s certainly keeping his hand warm, so it probably good at keeping her warm, and…

It feels like he’s been walking for hours. He’s got a death grip on the scarf, like he couldn’t it bear the thought of dropping it. Losing it. Damaging it. He could buy her a new one if he did. But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? It wouldn’t be hers, it wouldn’t have her name written in ink on the inside, it wouldn’t smell like her…

Before he even knows it, he’s standing in his dorm room, back pressed against the door, keeping it closed. The room is empty, thank the Gods, because he’s still holding the scarf. He can see his, dangling over the end of his bed, and it might seem weird if he had two.

His breathlessness and warm face and open mouth might also be weird.

He steps away from the door, certain it’s closed, then moved toward his bed, where he sits down at the edge, eyes desperately trying to avoid the scarf, but he just can’t do it. He wets his lips, nervous, double, triple checking the room, ensuring no one is there once again.

And, finally, he lifts the scarf to his nose, and inhales deeply.

It smells just like her. Of course it does, it’s hers, but it’s unmistakably so. The scent of lavender and honey, probably from the soap she uses. A little of mallowsweet, and fresh air. It’s intoxicating, and he can’t bring himself to put it down. Even if he suffocates in the wool, it would be a wonderful way to die.

There’s a feeling, that starts in his stomach, that he’s trying so hard to ignore, but it’s getting lower and lower, and his head is spinning. He inhales again, and his eyes roll back a little. His breath hitches in his throat, and he can’t stop himself, he moves his right hand, over the side of his thigh, straight towards-

“What are you doing?”

Sebastian’s head whips round to the door, where Ominis is standing, deadly still, wand in hand, staring straight at him. Surely not? He surely can’t see, can he? No, what a ridiculous notion. He can’t see what Sebastian is doing.

Hopefully he can’t see what Sebastian is doing.

He realises he’s said nothing for an awfully long time, and stutters over his words as he tries to get a coherent sentence out.

“I-I, uh, was just,” he glances around himself, trying to find another object - anything but the scarf - to use as a distraction. His eyes settle on a spell book, he’d left next to his bed. He drops the scarf onto the bed next to him, and quickly reaches for the book. “I w-was reading! Homework, you know.”

“No,” Ominis flicks his wand, ever so slightly, the tip glowing read, as he steps over to Sebastian. “I heard you. You were…smelling something. In a very…odd fashion.”

“N-no,” Sebastian counters. “I…wasn’t.”

Great, that’ll show him!

Ominis scoffs. “What were you-“ he waves his wand again, and the scarf suddenly levitates, floating through the air and landing in Ominis’ hand. Damn him, and his stupidly intelligent wand. “Is this-“

“Ominis-“

“It’s her scarf. Was this what you were smelling? It must be.”

Sebastian shuts his mouth. The two of them are quiet for a moment. Ominis just standing there, and Sebastian sitting, feeling increasingly guilty.

“Don’t tell her.”

Ominis frowns a little. “Tell her what?”

“That I was…doing that.”

“I will not tell her,” Ominis says. Sebastian feels relief for a moment, but then Ominis speaks again. “You will.”

“What?” Sebastian squeaks. His voice has never been that high-pitched before. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t in this situation.

“Are you a fool, Sebastian Sallow?” This time, Sebastian is the one to frown. That wasn’t what he was expecting Ominis to say. Admittedly, he was expecting some extortion, maybe a promise of some kind, but not an insult. “You must be the only wizard alive unaware of your feelings for her.”

He’s suddenly taken aback. He tries to form words, but quickly gives up. His mind is racing, trying to comprehend what Ominis had just said to him.

Because, Merlin’s beard, was he right?

Surely not. She was his best friend. They had fun, broke rules together. They spent hours at Hogsmeade together. They studied together. They visited Anne together. They…they did everything together. Because he couldn’t bear not doing things together.

And of the times she wasn’t there, he just thought about her, wishing she was there. He hadn’t had a class with her since that morning, and all day he’d thought about getting back to the common room and seeing her.

Then there was the butterflies he got when he saw her. How beautiful he thought she was. How he’d often find an excuse to touch her. How he’d look for her in crowds. How he just never stopped thinking about her, because…

Because he had feelings for her.

“Merlin,” Sebastian mutters, the realisation hitting him like a tonne of bricks. It’s all he can say, because how had he not seen it sooner? It was glaringly obvious, and if Ominis was correct, was he the only one who hadn’t realised?

“It’s taken you far too long to realise,” Ominis sits down on the bed, a few inches from Sebastian, placing the scarf in between them. “We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“We’ve been talking about how painfully clear your feelings are, and how idiotic that you have not said or done anything about it sooner.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

Ominis pauses, contemplating whether he should say or not. But everything is out in the open, so why not?

“The usual suspects. Myself, Poppy, Amit, Natsai,” Sebastian nods, and starts to speak, but Ominis continues. “Gareth, Leander, Imelda, I believe Everett knows as well. Possibly some others.”

“Gods,” Sebastian sighs. He’s half tempted to laugh, but he’s still too shocked. “Does she know?”

Ominis blinks. He squeezes his lips together in thought, and then nods his head. “She took some convincing - couldn’t quite believe you’d ever feel that way for her, and I’m still half-convinced she isn’t entirely sure.”

“And does she-“

“She has feelings for you too. Of course she does. Don’t continue to be foolish, Sebastian. Would she let you carry on the way you do, if she didn’t? I certainly wouldn’t.”

Sebastian laughs - a sudden, chesty laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, which in turn makes Ominis laugh - a rare sight.

“Am I truly that oblivious?” Sebastian asks through his laughter. “I mean, I’ve never felt like this before, so I just assumed it would be clear when I liked someone.”

“Not everything is clear,” Ominis reassures him, then, “But you are simply an idiot.”

The two of them laugh again. Sebastian looks at the scarf next to him, before sighing loudly.

“I’m going to have to tell her, aren’t I?”

There’s a gentle touch on his shoulder. Ominis nods (he’s not one for touching others, but he clearly feels Sebastian needs reassuring). “And sooner rather than later, hm? We’re all dying to see the two of you together.”

He’s been avoiding her, like she was the Black Death, and he curses himself for doing so. He’d managed to return her scarf (thankfully, because he was certain he’d do something he’d regret if he didn’t), but for the rest of the week that was it. He’d eaten early, returned to his dorm early, pretended to be engrossed in conversations during classes and very busy after them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. Quite the opposite, in fact, but he was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing, and come up with a beautiful string of words that would explain how madly in love with her he was, and why exactly she should be with him.

And it was proving to be a lot more difficult than expected.

Ominis, may the Gods bless him, had agreed to keep their conversation a secret - at least for the time being. Sebastian was sure that the others had noticed that something was up, though, as they seemed much more concerned about him than they usually did. But he didn’t allow himself to be perceived by them for too long. He would dodge conversation, and keep to himself. Every waking moment seemed to be consumed by thinking of how exactly he would confess.

Ominis had said she felt the same, but was he sure? He’d said he was sure, yes, but was he truly sure? Sebastian was not sure, about any of it. He also wasn’t sure that sure was a real word anymore

The following Friday, he’d been invited to Hogsmeade for Butterbeers, but made a big fuss of how much homework he had to do. It was true, he did have a lot of homework, but his mind was not on that now.

Instead, taking advantage of a mostly empty common room, as most students had headed out for the evening, he sat himself in front of the fireplace, legs stretched outward, arms crossed against his chest. It would be the perfect opportunity to just think. Staring into the fire, he hoped an answer would appear. And he stared, for a long time, trying to decipher something in the flames.

“Sebastian?”

He almost jumps out of his skin, scrambling a little to sit up straighter. Because there she is, standing beside him, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hi,” he looks up at her. She looks extra pretty this evening, he thinks. Hair pulled back with just a few pieces framing her face, a gorgeous, flowing teal dress framing her figure perfectly. “I thought everyone was heading to Hogsmeade?”

“We were,” she says. She sounds sad, as she sits down on the armchair next to him. “But then Ominis said you weren’t coming, so I came back.”

There’s a flutter in his stomach, and a little voice in his head, that says see, she does like you.

But he can’t let her spoil her fun, and most definitely not for him

“Go,” he tilts his head towards the stairs. “I’m sure you can catch up with them. I’m quite alright on my own.”

He watches her glance over to the stairs, and ponder for a moment, before she shakes her head. “You’ve hardly spoken to anyone all week. I’d rather know you’re well and not moping about alone.”

“Not moping,” he chuckles. “Just…been thinking.”

She studies him for a second, then places her elbow on the arm of the chair, and rests her chin in her hand. “A knut for your thoughts?”

Sebastian turns his attention back to the fire. It eats away at the logs, just like his thoughts had been eating away at him. Ominis’ words ring in his ears: She has feelings for you too. Of course she does.

He tries to form some words. But they still evade him. Still run from his tongue and his mind, teasing him with the very possibility of being with her, yet being unable to, due to the annoying fact that he just cannot speak.

Her voice is almost a whisper, but he can see the way her face crumples a little. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Hey, no,” he says. “I’ve just been…in my own head, that’s all. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She nods, but looks like she doesn’t quite believe him. She joins him in looking at the fire, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

He steals a glance at her, and she looks like she wants to speak, but she’s holding back. Their silences are not often awkward, but there’s a tension in the air, and he wants to cure it, somehow.

It’s only when he decides he must say something, that she clears her throat, and stands up from her chair.

“I’ll let you get back to your thoughts,” she smiles ever-so-slightly at him. It’s half-hearted and almost makes him wince. “Good night, Sebastian.”

He’ll see her in the morning. She’ll go to bed, as will he, and he’ll see her over breakfast, or catch her in the hallway.

He’ll see her, so why do his feet carry him, following her, as if he won’t?

“Wait,” he says, only a step behind her. They’ve stopped in the middle of the common room, looking each other, her body in an awkward half-turn, from where she’d been leaving. “I think I should probably tell you my thoughts.”

She frowns. “You should?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “It’s been plaguing me all week. And I’ve been putting it off but-“ a deep breath. “I should probably get it off my chest.”

She looks beautiful in the shimmering moonlight and rippling waves of the common room. He traces her with his eyes, taking her in. If he hadn’t been certain about how he felt up, he most definitely was now.

But he had been certain. It had just taken a while for him to see it.

“Look, I,” he starts, eyes dropping to the floor. This time, without realising, he lets his heart do the talking. He doesn’t hope his brain will find the words, instead he lets all of his heart and soul spill from his mouth. “I haven’t told you the truth. Mostly because I didn’t know the truth, until quite recently, and it seems everyone but I knew. But now that I do know, and I’m entirely sure it is the truth…”

She’s frowning. So is he, a little. He’s not really making sense, so he tries again.

“All my life, I assumed love - I mean, having feelings for someone - would be obvious, glaring, and heart wrenching. I never realised it could be subtle, or slow, or easy. I also was never sure I’d actually find it. I thought I’d be waiting my whole life, if ever, to find it. It’s why I didn’t realise, for a long time, until now, that…I have feelings,” he pauses, then clarifies. “For you, I mean.”

She looks shocked. Her eyes wide, mouth open, trying to search him for some kind of proof he’s just jesting. Just toying with her emotions.

But he’s not. He’s not one to cry, but his eyes well a little. He wants to step forward, to envelop her into a hug, to hold her in his arms, finally, in the way he’s always wanted.

“Are you,” she eventually speaks. “Are you quite serious?”

He can’t help but laugh. Her brows knit together, concerned at his joking manner.

“More than serious,” he confirms. “Deadly.”

She gasps, very softly. It is her that steps forward, closing the large gap between them. Only a few inches apart. So close he could reach for her, if he wanted.

So he does.

He reaches for her hand - which are just the right size for his, as he’d previously confirmed - and brings it closer to him, squeezing it gently.

“Sebastian,” her bottom lip quivers. “I also,” she pauses, to find her words. “Feel…feelings. For you.”

Their eyes lock. He doesn’t think he’s seen eyes as pretty as hers. Merlin, he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone as pretty as her. And here she is, standing in front of him, hand in his and heart open, ready for him to take care of it.

It’s almost silent, aside from the crackle of the fire and the patter of their hearts.

Sebastian does not think he can take this longing for one more second, so does what he has always wanted to.

He kisses her, and in that moment, finds all he has ever wanted.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #ominis gaunt #hogwarts fanfiction #fanfic #hl fanfiction #sebinis

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sarahmackattack · 1 year

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Psst... #Squidtember starts Friday.

It's time to start thinking about how YOU are going to celebrate this month-long festival of squid.

Here are some appropriate ways to celebrate:

🦑 Text a friend a squid fact

🦑 Mail a friend some squid art

🦑 Wear your favorite squid shirt

🦑 Make some squid shaped origami

Feeling artsy?

🦑 Make a doodle of a squid and share it with people

🦑 Write a squid fact with your best doodle on the white board in your classroom/office

Feeling neighborly?

🦑 Celebrate by hanging a sign in your window with your favorite squid -

🦑 Go to the park and write a squid poem on the sidewalk

Feeling metal?

🦑 Get a squid tattoo (or maybe just doodle one on with a pen that's ok too)

🦑 Slap a squid sticker on a bathroom wall

How are YOU going to celebrate?

#Squid #Cephalopods #Squidtember #LFG #Squid Party #marine biology #sealife #marine life #squid facts

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disneyprincemuke · 9 months

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santa baby * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic!femdriver

notes: hi i know i took forever to write this but uh what r u gonna do? ik u love me B)

you hum, whirling around at the camera crew settling right by the front of the mercedes racing home. “ah, it’s that time of years again, isn’t it?”

“yes! are you excited?”

you nod with a smile as you see a box being pulled out of the cart they’ve been lugging around in the paddocks for the video. “have you seen the present? got any hints for me?”

“aw, we can’t do that,” she giggles. “where’s the fun in that?”

secret santa is the yearly affair that you find yourself looking forward to as the year progresses. it’s always the santa hat and the fun of guessing who’s gotten you what this year. what used to be a silly game of gag gifts when you first started out, is now an endearing event filled with thoughtful gifts that you keep on your shelf for years to come.

last year, max had gotten your name. he is very thoughtful with his presents. his present sits at the top of your shelf: a paper mache trophy he admitted that he made with penelope (you’ve met her and she loves you) deeming you his toughest competitor in 2022.

you’re curious to see who drew your name this year.

“oh! do i get to keep this one?” you giggle as she hands you a santa hat. you pull it over your head snuggly and clap your hands. “where is it?”

“here.”

a box is handed to you, wrapped neatly in a mercedes green paper. you squeal as you take it into your hands and carefully unwrap it. there is something about wrapping paper that is so incredibly delicate and worth keeping.

you carefully tear at the tape holding the seams and edges of the box.

“any guesses who it could be right off the bat?”

“it could be anyone at this point,” you sigh, shaking your head. “could it be max again? hopefully it’s not charles — who knows what he will give me.” you look up to the camera. “in secret santa terms, of course. he is actually a good gift giver.”

you tear off the wrapping paper, folding it up neatly before pinning it between your body and elbow. “okay. truth time.”

you pull the cover off the box and tilt your head at the array of presents sitting comfortably in mercedes’ coloured confetti.

“what did you get?”

“a ‘best mum’ mug?” you say, coming out in a slight question as you lift up the pastel green mug to the camera. “am i pregnant and somehow it’s passed me?”

you hear a chorus of laughter as you venture further, each of the presents somehow getting weirder by the second. “and a christmas card? seriously?”

you graze your fingers over the 3d design on the card with a small smile, reading ‘merry christmas!’ with a cute doodle of a christmas tree in the centre. “we’ve been instructed to tell you to read that after you get all the presents and guess him correctly.”

your eyes trail to the gold plate in the shape of a star.

“another trophy!” you shriek. you squint your eyes to read the inscription on the plate. you sigh and press your lips together into a thin line. you hold it up. “best grid mum. the spelling alone gives it away!”

you step forward and let the camera zoom into it, the inscription reading “best grid mom”. “logan’s my secret santa?”

“ah, rookie mistake with the spelling there, wasn’t it?” she laughs. “there’s one more gift. he told us to give it to you when you figure it out.”

somebody else reaches out with a frame in their hands. you take it into your hands and smile, a picture of you and logan sitting right outside the mercedes home together for lunch sits tightly behind the glass.

“this is so sweet!” you coo, one hand covering your red cheeks. “do you want me to read the card?” she nods. you open the folded card and read as you speak. “thanks for welcoming me this year to the grid. you’re the best ever. hope i get to race with you longer than just this season. love, your secret santa.”

you look up as tears well in your eyes, looking into the camera. “aw, you’re the sweetest, logan. don’t worry, i’ve already got a present for him this christmas.”

you point to the lens of the camera. “can i grab this thing real quick for dramatic effect?” he nods. you grab the frame of the lens and take a step forward. “james vowles, if you do not re-sign logan hunter sargeant, i know where to find you.”

@cashtons-wife

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke inthaf #logan sargeant platonic #disneyprincemuke 3k celly

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tsyvia48 · 11 months

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Author & Mensch: Reflections on the impact of @neil-gaiman on my life, in essay and doodle

As a woman of a certain age, I am a well-practiced overthinker. Nerd, geek, know-it-all, intellectual, the names have been biting or praise depending on who wielded them. They’re all true, and I embrace them.

In the early days of adulthood, when I was a wee 20-something overthinking nerd, geek, know-it-all, intellectual (20+ years ago), I became deeply interested in image and text and text-as-image. While friends were watching and arguing over Survivor, I was obsessing over Peter Greenaway’s The Pillowbook and Prospero's Books and Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. (To this day my copies of the Sandman graphic novels and the English translation of The Pillowbook of Sei Shonagon are proudly displayed on the good bookshelves—you know, the ones I want people to peruse.)

Sandman isn't merely good storytelling and good art, it teases at some of the fundamental questions to which my religion-major heart was consistently and reliably drawn. It modeled a way of rendering the questions—and suggested answers—I would never have imagined on my own.

In those days, I created an artist's book: an altered gift edition of Hamlet. I explored Ophelia’s femininity and the inevitability of her break with her mental health, caught as she is between Hamlet and her father. I imagined her story if she’d had true agency. I investigated the way art (fan art?!) had shaped my understanding of the play and my relationship to it. I layered in my story—my resonance and dissonance with hers—and my art, along with images of famous and not-so-famous paintings of Ophelia. I proudly named Greenaway and Gaiman as influences.

I imagined myself an artist. And, truthfully, I suppose I was one.

I read Good Omens back then, too, delighting over the religious tropes and subversions, the humor, and the fundamental faith in humanity that shone through.

In the two decades since then, below the din of “responsible” choices (that have mostly moved me away from imagining myself an artist) there has been a melody quietly bringing me comfort, shifting my perspective, and reminding me who I want to be. When I stop to listen for and name the music, I realize much of it generates from Neil Gaiman.

The Graveyard Book gave me comfort and hope as a new parent.

Ocean at the End of the Lane reminded me of the layers and the depths⏤the archetypes and metaphors⏤present in everything around me, if I am willing to seek them.

Neil’s anecdote about meeting Neil Armstrong has been a talisman against imposter syndrome. Or, more precisely, it has been a permission slip for forgiving myself when the imposter syndrome inevitably surfaces.

The episode of Dr Who he wrote (“the Doctor’s Wife”) changed the way I understand the entire Dr Who experience before and since.

Lucifer (tv), which his work inspired, gave me joy, comfort and distraction through a tough time in my life.

When, a few years ago, I realized he is Jewish, I had that swelling of pride and resonance that I always get when someone I admire shares that identity with me.

And now there’s the Good Omens tv series. It has opened something in me I didn’t realize was closed. Crowley and Aziraphale are helping me better understand myself, and love, and gender, and storytelling, and, believe it or not, Torah. I am writing again for the first time in ages. I'm drawing more often and with more joy than I’ve known maybe since childhood.

I’ve been getting back into my gratidoodle practice, drawing and writing what I’m grateful for. And when I decided to add Neil Gaiman’s face and some words about my appreciation for his work to my sketchbook, I realized he’s brought me full circle.

Text and image and text-as-image + Neil Gaiman + story is an old constellation for me. And once again, I find my thoughts dancing, shifting, blossoming to the quiet melody of (one of?) the greatest storyteller(s) of this generation.

And now that I am actively engaging with other Gaiman fans, I see how responsive and kind and encouraging he is to those of us who love his work, and his name is permanently etched on my heart: a benefactor, a teacher, a role model.

How satisfying and fitting that such a powerful and resonant voice, miraculously, thankfully, beautifully, also seems to be a genuine mensch.

B”H (thanks to God) that I am alive at the same time as such a one.

#I didn't realize I was going to write AND draw when I started this #but I felt I needed both #I wish I had a flatbed scanner #this photo doesn't do it justice #there's greater nuance in the color in person #Stories matter #Art matters #like, really matters #Neil Gaiman is a gift to this world #Good Omens #Crowley and Aziraphale #Ocean at the End of the Lane #The Graveyard Book #Neil Armstrong and imposter syndrome #The Doctor's Wife #So grateful for tumblr

#crowley x aziraphale #good omens #neil gaiman #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable husbands #jewish good omens #aziracrow #jumblr #my art #ocean at the end of the lane #the graveyard book #the doctor's wife

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hotchfiles · 9 months

Text

lover to lover.

⋅☆⋅ mrsaluado's first xmas event ⋅☆⋅

pairing: james x fem!reader.

summary: it's your first gift exchange as a couple and you are both dangerously lovesick.

content warnings: JUST FLUFF. I SWEAR.

word count: 1,4k

You felt silly, you felt like your gift was silly and felt even sillier for worrying so much about it your palms were sweaty even though it was very late at night and the house was surrounded by the whiteness of snow. This was your first Christmas as James' girlfriend and even though you had been to his home before, that was the first time you would be staying the night as well.

To top that kind of pressure, it was the first year your gift to James would actually matter, you couldn't just give him a sweater, or a book or a coupon for free of charge homework help, it had to be good, it had to be meaningful.

And it was hard to do that for someone who had everything. He was the golden boy, not only were his parents generational wealth loaded, they were caring, loving and were always making sure he and his friends had everything they could ever need. How could anything you try to give him compare to that?

Nonetheless, you tried your best, and now the party was over, the other three marauders black out drunk in Sirius' room from spiked eggnogg Mr. Fleamont pretended not to see them drink and you on James' bed waiting for him to come back after helping them out.

His smile brightened up the whole room, even though the lights were on and the warmth in his eyes made you forget about any worries that surrounded your mind while he was gone. You stretched your arms to pull him in a hug after he closed the door, though he ignored completely, simply laying on top of you with all of his weight, forcing you to lay down as well. "Honeyyyy, I'm so tired," he whined, his cheek touching yours as he spoke.

One of your hands went to his arm, while the other played with his hair, he was such a baby when he wanted to, but you were lovesick, dangerously lovesick, so it was endearing to you. "No gifts today, then?" That made him get up in a jump, excitement filling him with the energy he had lost to sleepiness.

"Nooooo, not what I meant." He pouted, batting his beautiful eyelashes at you, you laughed, knowing that would be the reaction, he had been extremely curious by your present from the time you showed up engulfed in green flames inside his family's fireplace, a big heavy something, perfectly wrapped, to Jamie written in your handwriting in a heart shaped note that he knew he would keep safe inside his wallet to the rest of his days.

You got the gift from his nightstand and handed it to him, the anxiety coming back again as you started overexplaining yourself to him, "Wanted to make something special, but you have so much stuff I... Didn't know what... So I asked your mum to help me with this. I know it's like, nothing super unique but... I don't know." You fumbled completely over your words and he looked so deep into your eyes you knew he was able to read your whole entire soul without even trying at all.

"Even a rock you find on a road and decides it reminds you of me would be special." Everything you do, everything you touch is special, it's what he actually wants to say, but he refrains from it, carefully taking out the tape holding the wrapping paper together, refusing to rip it apart. His eyes sparkled when he saw the leather cover, his name golden along with his Gryffindor quidditch number.

He opens it, not sure what would be inside, the first page had your handwriting again, written in red and filled with doodle hearts: My quidditch lover boy, know that wherever you play, I will always be your biggest cheerleader.

The rest was pictures, from the first one his mum took of him with a broom when he was still barely a person, his little arms holding tight to his dad. The first time he flew alone to show them. The letter he sent when he made the Gryffindor team, his first captain's armband, tickets from matches he went with his father. The last picture was from his last victory, you both kissing with the biggest smiles while Sirius covered you both with red paint.

It was a good thing he never pretended to be one of those emotionless guys, because his nose was red, his eyes watering as you heard him sniffing. "This... Honey, this is the most beautiful thing." His fingers passed over the picture, with such care it seemed he was afraid to ruin it, he pulled you into a hug and then lifted your chin to face him, his lips touching yours like you were a treasure he needed to protect. You felt the saltiness of his tears and you couldn't help but laugh, it was just too adorable.

James let go of you, but not before kissing your whole face. He found a spot on his desk for your present, where it would be the first thing anyone spotted when looking around his room, and then took a small box and a piece of parchment from the first drawer of his nightstand.

"M'feeling a tad inadequate now, mine isn't as thoughtful but... Ms. Euphemia did help me with it too." You laughed at the way he talked of his mum, "I wanted to give you some sort of jewelry, but everything I chose was simply grim, James darling." he gestured air quotes while trying to get his mother's tone across.

He handed you the velvet box, parchment still in hand as he waited for you to open, you were still stunned by the information he wanted to give you jewelry, you felt like your heart and your stomach were dancing and twirling around inside of you as how official that sounded. Opening the box you find a beautiful, seemingly antique, silver ring, it had a red gem on top in the form of a triangle. You were completely speechless as you touched it lightly.

"M'dad proposed with that ring." Your eyes widened at that, positive you were gonna pass out at any moment. "It's very old, and it's been in our family for generations, if you look closely you can see a symbol, the triangle one is for my invisibility cloak."

"James, this is beautiful, but... I can't accept this, it's a family heirloom I... It belongs to your family." You couldn't even look at him, you were out of breath, out of words, out of ways to react.

"Yeah, that's sorta it. You're part of my family now." He takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your right index finger, so not to pressure you, so you knew it was a present, a promise of commitment, but not an obligation or a way to imprison you to him. "And my mum kept this for years, I had no idea, she says it's adorable, so..." James hands you the parchment finally, and you open it to see the date on top, stating it was a letter from two years before.

A letter he sent to his mum, from Hogwarts, talking about you.

He went on and on talking about sometimes he felt like his heart was gonna jump out of his chest when you were around and that wasn't normal, that didn't happen before. And how he could smell your perfume before even seeing you had got into the room.

He was fifteen and down bad for his best friend and was so confused he asked his mum for advice. It was indeed the most adorable thing.

Euphemia was so sure something would come out of it she kept the letter. You had to put it down on his bed so you wouldn't wet it with your tears. "You're such a sap oh my god," you said in a mocking tone even though you were the one crying like an absolute baby.

"Enjoy it now, next year you're getting a simply grim necklace and a honeydukes discount coupon." James replied matter-of-factly, but his grin and his eyes showed how glad he was that you had enjoyed the gifts that much, "I love you too much, you're gonna wake up one day and m'gonna have inflated and exploded by how much."

You couldn't even reply to that with anything other than a loud laugh, your hands quickly going over your mouth when you remembered how late it was.

You felt his weight over you again, but this time before he could be completely lay over you using you as a mattress, he slides beside you, pulling you closer to him, and closing his eyes. "Happy Christmas, lover boy." Is the last thing you say before falling asleep in his embrace.

#lari writes xmas #lari writes sometimes #marauders x reader #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter scenario

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