#this could have been an essay but i spared you all

[sednonamoris]

annual reminder that price and hound celebrate christmas with hound’s granddad as often as leave allows and bake really ugly cookies in matching ugly sweaters 🫵🎄

[earthtooz]

x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+ﾟ

in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?

warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.

a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)

Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 

The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.

“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.

“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”

“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 

“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.

How bothersome. What’s happening to him?

“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.

“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”

“The one for your elective?”

You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”

“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”

“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 

(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)

“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.

You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”

“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 

But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 

(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)

“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.

Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 

The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.

A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.

“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.

“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 

The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.

(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)

You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 

“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 

“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”

“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”

“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”

“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”

“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”

Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”

A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.

Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 

“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 

“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”

The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 

“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”

“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m the only one who-”

“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.

Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”

“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”

“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”

A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”

“Hold on, what does the note say?”

Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?

“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“

Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”

“Sure, but why are you doing-“

“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.

So why weren’t you here?

“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.

You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?

“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.

“Whom?”

You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.

“What?” Alhaitham snaps.

“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”

“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”

Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  

“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”

“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”

“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”

“Because she was sick.” 

“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 

“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”

“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.

Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.

Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 

“You’re not that special.”

A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.

“Listen to me!”

“Fuck off!” 

“Y/n-”

You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 

“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.

“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.

The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”

“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.

“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 

“No one. Now get lost.” 

“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”

“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”

“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”

“-No, no, none of those!”

“Then what?”

Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”

“Huh? Why so annoyed?”

“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”

It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 

“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 

“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”

“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”

Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.

He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 

You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 

And why are you smiling so happily?

You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).

He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?

He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.

(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)

Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 

“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”

You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 

He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 

“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”

“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 

“What guy?” 

“Your project partner.”

“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.

He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 

“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 

“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 

Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 

Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?

Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.

“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.

Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-

“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 

Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.

“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 

“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”

“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”

“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.

“Nope,” you sigh. 

“Why not?”

“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”

“An apology? Why? What did he say?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 

“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”

“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”

“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”

Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.

“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”

“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 

“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.

Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.

“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”

“When will you just confess to Y/n?”

The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”

“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”

“-what, when?”

“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 

“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”

“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”

“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 

“So why aren’t you apologising?” 

“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”

“Jealous, much?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”

“But, we are just friends-”

“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”

The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 

“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”

A sharp click rings through the room.

Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 

(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.

What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?

Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.

“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.

He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.

“For me?” You ask.

“For you.”

“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 

“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”

You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  

“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.

“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 

“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”

“By your groupmate?”

“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 

“Yes. I did.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”

“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 

You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 

“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”

A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 

Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”

“Are you free right now?”

“I am. Why?”

“Let’s go out then. On a date.”

“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.

The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[ellecdc]

how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk)

would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

mature content ahead: view discretion is advised

So, are they in a relationship yet? I'm going to go with they're in a relationship for this but if you meant they weren't you can feel free to re-ask

James:

chokes on his spit and nearly trips as he turns to look at you in shock (not unpleasant shock, mind you)

"You're what?"

He'd coo in sympathy after you had to embarrassingly repeat yourself in a whisper, rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction

"awe sweets. Okay, come on." and he's leading you by the hand - he's almost more eager than you are as he rushes down the hall

ends up on his knees with his face under your skirt in the closest bathroom - you'd be taken care of for sure 😩

Sirius:

biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life and you almost regret saying anything

I think he'd tease you a little bit: "Awe, poor dolly's feeling needy, hm?" He'd coo in faux sympathy, the bastard

He'd make you tell him exactly what you're looking for. "What do you want, dolly?" 'touch me' "Like this?" and all he'd do is push your hair behind your ear

two can play at that game: 'Fine, I'll go ask someone else.'

He'd let out a horrified squawk and throw you over his shoulder. "Now now, let's not get hasty. I don't want anyone thinking I don't take care of my girl"

bent you over in the nearest broom closet and you both leave flushed and satisfied

Remus:

would smirk at you but continues reading through the first draft of his essay "really dove? now?"

he'd chuckle listening to you pout and get all breathy as you try to sit still "We've got homework, baby girl."

You'd get petulant and lean back in your seat with a huff, crossing your arms.

without even looking, he'd grab the leg of your chair and pull it over towards him - he'd keep his head low and continue making adjustments on his paper as he slips his free hand under your skirt and moves your panties aside.

"Awe, poor dovey - you really were needy weren't you" he'd lightly tease, murmuring softly so only you could hear.

your breath would hitch as he slipped inside of you, earning you a gentle shush as he threatens to stop moving his fingers.

"I'll take care of you but you have to be quiet; only I get to know how pretty you sound, yeah?"

gets you off with just his fingers in the library - makes up for it again later once he's done his essay

Regulus:

he's mean, I'm sorry

he'd make you wait all day

he'd go to class, to every meal, to quidditch practice barely sparing you a glance leaving you all the more desperate

it was painful for him too, mind you. Thinking about you being needy made him needy, and he spent all day dreaming of taking you over and over and over again

but he's a bit of a sadomasochist lol

he'd finally be all wound up after quidditch practice and would pull you roughly into his room and, like he'd been imagining all day, take you over and over and over again

to the point of over stimulation

"Come on amour, you can give me one more, yeah? Wasn't this what you wanted? Weren't you so needy?"

he got three more for his dirty talk alone

Barty:

no questions asked

'Barty?' "Yes Treasure?" 'I...I want, erm....I mean I...I feel kind of needy'

slams book shut and throws it over his shoulder where it lands in the fountain with a splash

"Where are you two going?" his friends ask bemusedly

"I'm going to treat my girl like a slut the way she deserves, Black; if you're not going to help, mind your fucking business"

you spend the rest of the day in his bed, fucking, smoking, eating, fucking, smoking, fucking, reading, fucking again

you'd hardly ever need to worry about feeling needy with him - whenever, wherever, however - consider it done.

[lowkeyremi]

Late Nights aizawa x reader

it's my birthday so im writing about the man i share it with (-ε-)

content: post war au, fluff, established relationship

"This isn't good for your health, Sho." Today marks the 5th night he's stayed up past 11 pm grading papers or doing something else for his job.

"How do you think I managed before I met you?" His small sigh meets your ears, and you really want to help him. Seeing out of only one eye is most definitely slowing him down.

"You looked dead on the outside when we first met. Do you want me to help grade papers?"

"I'll finish before one, go back to bed, honey." His eyes meet yours once he hears you scoff. He's draining himself by staying up this late, every single night. His face is lit by the warm kitchen light, one of his hands tugging at his long black strands of hair in order to keep himself sane.

"Shota. I'm not taking no for an answer." You say firmly, crossing your arms to indicate that you mean business.

"I knew you'd say that, come sit down." He gives in every single time. He knows he needs the help, he just doesn't want to admit it.

"Can you read through these essays?" At first you're confident, there's only a few papers on the table.

"Can you?" You nod diligently. You confirm you're willing to help, and your husband gets up from the table and slowly walks toward your shared bedroom. When he does return there's a large stack of papers in his arms. They drop on the table with a thump. He chuckles at your horrified expression.

"Just get through as many as you can. Write feedback on them too, hon." No wonder he's always so tired, you forget that 1-A isn't his only class. If you can remember right he has six periods of classes.

"Is this pile all your class or.." He's sat back down by now and started going through papers with red pen.

"That's 3rd and 4th period. I'm finishing up with 1st and 2nd right now." You click your tongue. It's hard to get started, you don't have any motivation unlike Shota. His only motivation is probably the fact he has to do this.

"Why don't you have an online classroom? It would make grading so much easier." He's probably going to say something about not knowing how to use it..

"I prefer for my students to write manually, because it helps with remembrance." Sounds like something an old man would say. You'd voice your opinion but he'd have a comeback for sure.

-----

"Shotaaaaa, I don't wanna do anymore." Your head is resting on the table, the cool wood on your cheek. He doesn't even spare you any sympathy either, laughing at you quietly. His rich chuckles sound like comfort more than mockery in your opinion though.

"Sweetheart, you've only graded four essays." The huge stack of papers looks back at you from it's side of the table.

"Yeah and each essay had like four to five papers in it. I feel bad for your students." The two of you are going to cuddle. You're determined to make it happen, so before he could even reply, you bounce up from your seat, grab his hand, and tug him towards your bedroom.

"We're going to sleep. I'm not taking any other answers besides "okay" or "yes my love." He clicks his tongue at your statement, but finds no reason to oblige.

-----

"Do you want to know something?" He whispers into your ear cuddling you close enough to feel the warmth of his chest on your back.

"What?" At this point you're only half-conscious, struggling to register what your husband's just said.

"I'm actually ahead of schedule. I can grade those papers loosely throughout this week." He admits with no guilt or shame in his voice at all. What a workaholic.

"Are you serious? So I could have been cuddling you all this time?"

"Yeah, I just do work to get out of my head." You wonder how many times you'll have to remind him that you're his strength and that you'll help him through anything, before he actually believes it.

"If you were having trouble sleeping, you should have told me." His big hand rests in your hair playing with it slowly.

"Didn't wanna bother you." His hand is so comforting that you almost fall asleep.

"You're never a bother to me Sho." Your voice is so soft and sincere that he almost breaks out into tears of joy. He's so happy to have met you.

"Oh." It has finally clicked in his brain, even though you've been married to him for quite some time.

You are his light.

[satoruhour]

a/n: i need college / uni bf!geto rn bc my hands hurt :( newly established relationship <3 0.9k, rich kid!suguru i guess? / tagging @crysugu @na-t0 @papersirens @hydrovillette

“didn’t i tell you not to go so hard on your essay?” geto gives you a small smile, countered by your cute pout in the dark room of your dorm. the way he lectures is gentle, having no bite to it because how would he ever dare to sink his teeth into something as sweet as you? he knows if he does, however, he just might become addicted to you. it’s clear already how the teeth is breaking skin and drawing blood just by the items in the room:

both your faces are illuminated by the fairy lights you begged suguru to buy — he gives in and buys it for you as always. it’s shown in the starbucks mug that cost ¥3300, the sanrio themed bed sheets that you’re now sitting on, the convenience store onigiris for you to store in your fridge.

“was rushin’ it before 2359, su, you know that…” you mumble more to yourself than your boyfriend, who’s staring at you as your eyes droop sheepishly to your connected hands. it’s not wrong that you could’ve started writing this essay a little earlier, cited your sources a little earlier, but you still managed to do it; at the expense of your hands. they ached and throbbed from the position they were in for the past few hours — at least you still had managed to submit it with two minutes to spare.

“but not to the point where your hands turn sore, my darling.” geto brings your hands to his lips to kiss, like the little gesture of love could magically heal you. it feels like it does. the tenderness of his touch, the roughness of his finger pads against your smoother skin, the thoughtfulness itself. you grunt a little in pain when suguru starts to massage the palm, digging his thumb in and dragging it up and down. he squeezes your hands, giving each finger its attention, wiggling the hands to loosen your muscles.

“you know,” you hum in response and look up from your flustered state to find him already staring at you, “my mom used to do this for me.”

“yeah?” you whisper, heart pounding in your ears. two and a half months in and geto suguru was already treating you like treasure, not at all what they say he is: conceited of his intelligence, rude, a know-it-all rich kid. sure, he was smart, he was rich, but he made it clear he had no interest in the industrial, business side of the family. geto was generally open about his past, his parents leaving the toxic world and giving their son an upbringing filled with unconditional love and openness. but people usually liked the juicier gossip; none of them had bothered to know geto for who he was.

“yeah.” geto brings you in via your hands, lips colliding clumsily against yours from the force and you both laugh softly, “said its been passed down in her family for the longest time.”

“it’s helping… a little,” you giggle, eyes memorising his eyes shone under fluorescent.

“is it now?” the warmth of his hand leave yours for a moment to tilt your head up, catching your lips properly this time as he moves slow. suguru takes his time with you, moving against you as his other hand still continues to massage. that was one thing he was good at too, multitasking; he plays with your hand, travelling over your fingers and stroking over each section and its nail bed and then pulling away teasingly while he continues to hypnotise you into a dance. you hear him hum into the kiss, exhaling through his nose as he now interlocks both hands.

“focus on the squeezes, baby,” geto suguru drives you insane, in that little silky voice of his and the slight lilt in his voice. you let him lead you, feeling the soft pressure of his hand as he brings them above your heads and leans forward. you make a small surprised sound as he brings you right down to lay flat on the bed, hovering over you whilst still giving those periodic squeezes, entirely at his mercy as his lips never stop. they come off to breathe for some air and you’re the same, flushed cheeks and swollen lips and geto lets out a shaky breath.

it’s only then when he lets go, caught in your trance. easily, he tugs you into his lap as he lays down, not sure if he could uphold his obsession if he was on top.

“is this really part of the massage process?” you ask, legs naturally going to either side of his hips as you lay on his chest. you smile to yourself when you realise how fast his heart’s beating. off to the side, geto finds your hand again: him with his left and you with your right and you tangle into each other with the choreography of a million sprouts in the wind. finger into finger and palm against palm.

“hmm…” geto feigns confusion, prompting you to turn your head towards him. you grin seeing his red cheeks, “nah, just deviating a little from the family recipe… is it working?”

“it was earlier but now? oh, no, not really.” geto’s eyes flutter close when you move forward just a bit to peck his lips. you twine your fingers with his; you’re getting good at this multitasking thing. “but wherever you are, i will always feel much better than i was.”

“good.” suguru mumbles with a lovesick smile, and he gives your connected hands a squeeze and a grin threatens to spread across his face when you squeeze back just as hard, “that’s… really good.”

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

if it makes you feel better, a mature student on my course (history) used chatgpt to write an essay (on a real historical event) and handed it in (to a history professor who specialises in the real historical event) and chatgpt got the event entirely wrong. the student went to every lecture and seminar. i don't really know what the thought process was. they showed me their exact work process though (closed wikipedia next to me, put the essay q into chatgpt, and handed it in).

yay university!

Yeah, the very first student I ever caught doing this was last year. He was supposed to write a management plan for a site of his choosing, and went for the site of the old Dunvant Brickworks, now a flourishing reclaimed nature reserve with a brick dust problem.

And his Site Background section was entirely made up. Just fully fictionalised. It claimed there was now a museum and visitor centre onsite (there is not), that the brickworks were named after the family that founded them (they were named after the nearby village which comes from the Welsh Dwfn + Nant), and that the site has won awards for conservation (it has not) and now runs classes on heritage brickmaking (it does not.) Oh, and that the original brickworks had pioneered a brand new brickmaking techniques and was known during the Industrial Revolution for it's progressive workers' rights. Lol.

Anyway the first marker used to be a taxi driver in Swansea, and went "Hang on, there's no museum and visitor's centre -" and then passed it to me. Three hours later, we had proven that six of the fifteen references (already, far too few references for a MASTERS STUDENT) were fake. Two of those fake ones were then heavily used throughout the whole piece to prove everything from the history of the site (lies) to the hydrologic grid (fake) and the presence of signal crayfish in the streams (no).

It was, as they say, a shit show. And again, before I got involved and hit the ChatGPT alarm, the original second marker had looked it over and failed it - not because she knew it was AI, but because it was an utterly shit piece of work.

(That particularly story ended, btw, with that student being given leniency on mental health grounds, so he was allowed to try to resubmit with a new attempt. He was advised to return to the site, reassess it properly, then write up a new piece.

The day before his new submission date, his study support called me and asked for a meeting between the three of us, because the study support is from an IT background and so didn't have the subject knowledge to support him. We had a three way Teams call. During that call, me and the study support - hereafter referred to as Gareth to spare me typing that - both had microphones on, cameras on, and were freely talking. Student had his camera and microphone off.

First question from Gareth: "So, we have the site's real management plan, but it's 20 years out of date. Is this going to be a problem?"

Me: "No, not at all. In the industry, management plans are often out of date. Just factor that into yours - if it was written 20 years ago, you'll probably need to update the surveys to re-establish the current baseline, so what are you going to say needs to be surveyed and when. Does that make sense, Student?"

And there was, I shit you not, a SEVEN SECOND PAUSE, and then he unmuted himself and went "Sorry, what was that? I was sending a text."

And that happened a further three times over the course of that 40-minute meeting. A meeting he had requested the eve of his second chance because he still hadn't done it. A meeting he visibly did not think he had to listen in, or participate in, and thought he could get Gareth to listen to instead.

And then he submitted the new piece, and the only changes were:

He had entirely removed the site background section. It had not been replaced.

He had added in approximately twelve new in-text citations, none of which he'd added to the reference list for us to actually trace.

Which meant he was still heavily relying on the two fake references, and elsewhere in the piece, still had a paragraph that mentioned the museum and visitors centre; and THAT meant that he submitted, for a second time, work containing AI-generated content.

He was withdrawn from the course.)

[trulyhblue]

Baby England

Lionesses x Young! Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x reader (platonic).

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, coarse language, school, young reader.

A/N — still can't get over Sam's ACL. Like I woke up just to cry? No, thank you.

Masterlist

___________________________________

The Games Room was quiet for what seemed to be the first time ever. The team was sprawled throughout the room, some of them on their phones, others by mountains of pillows. Georgia and Keira were in the indoor pitch juggling with one another. Alex was having a soft conversation with Hempo, laughing at something one of them had said.

The serenity of the room was something you didn't catch often. Usually, the hustle of the team would echo across the walls, loud pints of laughter and screaming coming from one corner of the room to the other. Lucy was often yelling at Mario Kart, and Ellie was always strutting around Table Tennis in triumph, while everyone else grumbled on about how she was too good.

But for now, it was silent, save for the low conversations from the different groups. Even Lessi and Tooney were keeping in check, sharing a rocking chair with mounds of blankets hauled over the top of them.

For anyone else in the room, it would've been extremely relaxing.

For you, it was anything but.

You wanted to snap your pen in half, feeling the fatigue of yesterday's game daunting on your muscles. The words on your laptop were dancing behind the blur of your eyes. You struggled to stay concentrated as Leah sat next to you, taking her eyes off her phone every once while to make sure you were actually doing your homework.

The Euros were speeding by quicker than any of you could imagine. The outcome of your results, and the number of fans that had started to compile over the weeks, was indescribable. This was your debut camp for the Lionesses, and while you spent most of your time on the bench, making late appearances in the 70th minutes of games, you wouldn't change it for the world.

However, with all the excitement and privilege that came with representing your country in such a prestigious competition at Sixteen, you were faced with the challenge of keeping up with school.

When you first signed with the Lionesses, your parents were determined to keep you in school. Your education was very important, and if football ever ended badly for you, they wanted you to have something to fall back on. Growing up through the youth groups, and developing skills in the Arsenal Academy, you were used to the physical and emotional demands of a professional football career. Your parents were incredibly supportive of your dream to play, but their underlying worry when you were called up to the National Team was daunted on them.

So, to make everyone happy, you decided to take on the complicated challenge of juggling both football and school. This meant that in your spare time, all you did was study for exams, take the exams, and then study for the next one. It was an endless cycle of school and work, but you knew that it would be all worth it in the end.

The worst thing about it was that none of the girls were your age. Some of them had Uni work to do, but you were still mastering high school subjects. The workload wasn't nearly as draining, and they seemed to have it all sorted out in a few short hours while you were spending all of your extra time peeling away your useless worksheets, essays and papers.

Lots of the girls were lenient. None of them liked the idea of you cooped up in front of a screen. Hempo would buy you some crisps from down the road. Mary would make TikToks with you, Beth would scoop you up for cuddles and a movie. LJ would pull you away for Mario Kart. All the girls believed that you needed a break, especially in such a stressful time.

But Leah was the exact opposite.

You had known Leah since you were seven. You had met her during one of your Arsenal Youth games, immediately looking up to her as an older sister and role model. Even as a teenager, Leah holds a protective arm around you. She was always ready to defend you on the pitch, not only as a Captain, but as a friend. She wasn't afraid to put you in line — she was the only one who could send you running laps if you were too cheeky. She was strict, especially when you parents weren't there to boss you around, and everyone knew that her authority over you was nothing to debate.

You were training with the Arsenal Women's Team while you were still at the Academy. You're not quite sure why you were chosen in the squad, as you struggled to believe you made the cut at such a young age, but the England Captain didn't hesitate to make you put in the work.

She was a bit like your agent, always persuading you to do something when you weren't sure what to do yourself. You still weren't signed with a WSL team, but as the Euros progressed, teams from everywhere were banking up to sign you as soon as possible. You tried hard not to delve too deeply into it. You knew Arsenal was a main contender, and that's where you most wanted to go, but your focus right now was the Euros... and the essay in front of you.

"C'mon, get it done," Leah ordered, scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, her hand carrying the weight on her head against the desk. You had been sitting there for over an hour, a total of one paragraph typed out on your screen. Outside, you could see Beth and Lotte playing Basketball. You threw your head backwards, groaning in respite. This was the last thing you wanted to be doing.

"No use whining about it." She spoke, still not looking at you. "'Might as well smash it out now so it's done."

"'Dunno what to write about." You grumbled, shoving your hands into your pockets. You managed to slip a glance towards Esme, feeling your hopes lift up when she gave you a knowing nod.

But of course, Leah caught the interaction. "Hempo, no." She snapped, sending the Forward back to her seat. "You don't get crisps when you've done nothing to deserve it."

"Leah-"

"-Get on with it."

You slouched back into your chair, making sure your Huff was loud and overly obnoxious. Leah had no reaction, leaning back in her chair, and continuing to scroll on her phone.

"Y/N." She murmured in warning.

When you made no effort to keep going, she finally looked at you.

You could tell she was over it. She wasn't obliged to sit with you, but it was an unspoken rule that she did, otherwise, you would never get it finished. The older woman secretly felt bad for making you do it. If it was her choice, you wouldn't be doing school during the tournament. She understood your reluctance, but both of you could guess the consequences of your actions if you weren't handing it in.

"You've got half an hour." She snapped, her glare darkening. If she wasn't strict now, it'd end badly. "If it's not done, I'll bench you."

From the corner of your eye, you could see Lauren stop her Lego abruptly. Esme was no longer looking at her phone, instead tilting her head away from the tension rising in an attempt to not get involved.

Leah didn't have the power to bench anyone, the older girls knew that. But to your virtue, you thought that Leah was capable of anything. An abuse of power, maybe, but it worked all the same.

You begrudgingly tapped at your keyboard, making a point to roll you eyes when Leah set an alarm for half an hour. You were determined to keep your spot as a preferred sub, refusing to let Leah feel all smug at the fact that you couldn't finish the stupid essay.

Lauren continued on with her Lego. Esme was starting a new bracelet. Beth and Lotte's giggles were drowned out by the determination written all over your face. Without your knowledge, more and more people began to cram into the Game Room. First, Lucy, then Kei and Gee. A few minutes later, Alessia and Ella were doing a TikTok, their voices growing louder as the minutes went by. LJ walked past with confusion written across her features. She leaned over your shoulder, eyes slightly widening at the page full of words. She glanced to Leah's phone and the timer, then at Leah, who was staring off into the distance.

By five minutes left, you had written nearly two whole pages. Your hands were cramping, and your feet couldn't keep still. Chloe and Katie were surrounding you behind LJ, waiting for you to snap out of your trance and notice the crowd that had complied.

You were reading over your final sentences when the door crashed open, revealing Millie and Rach running in frantically with a cameraman hot on their trail. Their presence was so boisterous that everyone stopped to see who it was, watching in curiosity when the two women started searching the room.

"We need the Baby!" Millie screamed, scrambling onto the floor to check underneath the lounge. "We need the baby!"

Rachel was running to the bean bags, dashing past Lucy, Keira and Georgia playing Mario Kart. Everyone laughed in amusement at the cameraman struggling to keep up with the two of them.

"Where is she?!" Rach screeched at Esme and Lauren, ignoring the fits of giggle the pair were in. "Where's the baby?"

"Over here, idiots," Zelem stated, causing both their heads to dart in your direction. The girls surrounding you were quick to scatter, knowing the wrath of the two women was not something easily escapeable. Millie was about to yank you from under your shoulders when Leah moved in front of you, her prior amusement halting, replaced with her usual sternness.

You were closing your laptop at the sight of the camera, beaming at the thought of freeing yourself.

"Not now, Bright," Leah uttered, wrapping an arm around the back of your chair. "She's got school."

Instead of leaving you be, the duo closed in on you, beckoning the camera over to your work sprawled across the table.

Both of them held tiny mics, holding them up to their mouths as they spoke.

"Here we've got the Arsenal Protege in her natural habitat. Born and raised in red, she seems to be researching ways to leave."

"Both Arsenal and Leah."

Leah's face contorted into deep offence. "Hey!"

"Yes, it appears she is." Rachel nodded vigorously, picking up your book, pretending to read it. "She has written down Aston Villa as her top contender. Not only is she fast, but smart too."

Millie hugged you from behind. "But we all know what side of London she's thinking of, isn't that right? Smart, little, blue she'll be, am I right, Williamson?"

The camera panned to Leah, who was not looking at all amused. The thought of you being at any other club felt absolutely gut-wrenching to her. Like her, you had grown up bleeding in North London. She wouldn't trade any other player twice as good as you if that meant you'd stay. But while she'd never admit it, Leah wasn't worried about you leaving Arsenal. She was more worried that you'd leave her.

"Over my dead body." She snapped, wrenching the Chelsea woman's arms away from you, swerving your chair back to face your laptop. "Now, off you go, she needs to get this done."

"I've finished it, Lee." You muttered, feeling embarrassed at the fact that fans would prune over the way you were bossed around. When it came to your figure in the media, it was mainly regarding your blamelessness in comparison to your more experienced teammates. You were often babied by the girls, and fans adored the interactions you would have with them, especially with Leah.

Your Captain looked at you, crossing her arms. "You promise me you're done?"

"Promise." Your cheeks heated as the snickers fell from Daly's lips. You nodded, slowly inching off your seat. "Please, Lee, I've been stuck here for hours."

"Yeah, c'mon, Williamson, let her come to the dark side." Millie barked, causing Leah to grumble at the notion.

It took her a few moments to decide whether or not to let you go, huffing in defeat when she turned off her phone. "Fine. But no Chelsea or Villa talk, swear to Go—"

You were off before she could finish her lecture. Millie had picked you up, lifting you over her shoulders as Rach followed behind. The three of you ran into the indoor training pitch, with the poor cameraman following after you hopelessly.

When Millie plopped you down, you engulfed the warmth of someone's lap. You craned your head back to find Jordan looking back at you, her beady, toothy grin beaming back at you. The Arsenal midfielder wrapped her arms around you as you made the effort to snuggle into her body. Jordan was like your second mother when you were away from home. She was an ongoing support that wore her heart on her sleeve. She was different from Leah's opposing relentless, being more of a calm before the storm, less sentimental but effusive nonetheless.

You were supposed to be Jordan's substitute during your time at the Euros, but her knee injury had ruled her out. Therefore, the woman was only there when the squad wasn't training.

You noticed the multiple cameras surrounding the couch you were all squeezed on, but the attention felt a little less daunting with the comfort of the girls around you.

"We've got some questions for you," Millie spoke, revealing some palm cards from God knows where.

You nodded, keeping your head on Jord's chest. "Ask away."

"Who is your favourite teammate?"

You thought to yourself for a second before shrugging. "Jordan."

Rach scoffed. "Boring."

"Yeah, next!" Millie rolled her eyes. "Who would win in a fight, me or Daly?"

"Why am I answering these?!" You laughed, shaking your head. "You could've asked anyone."

"Those aren't the real questions." Jordan prodded, leading the two women to laugh their heads off at their supposed humour. You looked around at everyone, extremely confused about what you were here for. There were a few PR Managers behind the media setup, all with clipboards in their hands. You managed to catch Jordan eyeing Bright and Daly, squeezing your body a little tighter.

"Yeah, yeah, we're just having a laugh." Mils chortled, straightening up before continuing. "We're to announce that Baby England here has been asked to answer a few questions on behalf of the team."

You watched the centre-back intently. "Why me?"

"Dunno." Rach shrugged, followed shortly by Mil's voice. "Just 'cause."

"Alright, then, by who?"

"God, you'd think with all that schoolwork you'd be a bit brighter."

Jordan huffed from behind you. "Hurry up!"

"Alright, alright." Rachel scoffed, taking out the same cards as Millie had, the England Lioness logo plastered on the back. "So, seriously now, how do you think the Lionesses have worked throughout the Euros?"

You were never the one to be faced with serious questions in interviews. In fact, you had only ever attended one or two. At Arsenal, you were in the Academy, meaning the media surrounding you and your team was very scarce. As a representative of your National Team, the two interviews you had been a part of were your induction and your Player of the Match award at the end of one of the games. You weren't used to being in the spotlight like your England teammates, but you were not opposed to being overshadowed by them either. You knew you had a lot to learn, you were happy to play alongside them.

“Erm, I'm not quite sure.” You posed, blushing at the laughter that followed. “I'm very proud to be a part of it… this is a big opportunity for me, and I'm grateful for having the chance to represent my country.”

“True English,” Mils said fondly, finding the camera with her eyes. “Modest as always.”

Jordan hugged you tighter. “Let her finish, Millie.”

“But I think all of the girls think that, even to a bigger scale than me.” You continued, fidgeting with your hands. “It's a home Euros so… we all want to bring it home. I think that's one of the main contributors — the pressure, but also the idea of winning. We all want our families and country to be proud. So, yeah, and because we all love football. That's a given.”

“That was a bloody good answer, Baby England,” Rach commented. Her hand was rubbing your shoulder, her legs crossed over each other on the lounge. The Defender behind her was smiling, propping herself into a more comfortable position before she spoke.

“Speaking of,” She smirked. “Are you bothered by your nickname ‘Baby England?’ Do you feel a bit bugged by it?”

You giggled into Jordan, your cheeks inevitably heating up. “Erm, yes and no. I mean, I know I'm the youngest but I’ll go back to training and the girls will be teasing me for it.”

“Do you want to stay in the Academy?” Rach asked. “What’s your plans after the Euros?”

“Not sure.” You shrugged. “Hopefully we finish with Gold, that's the hope, obviously. But, I’ll just have to see.”

Both women looked at each other, then the camera, hiding their smiles concurrently. Jordan and you watched in confusion.

“Should we start the list of offers you've got right now?” Daly chortled. “I can think of five on the top of my head.”

“Who’s your top five?” Millie continued, leaning in and mouthing her club Chelsea.

“Leah would kill me!” You laughed, shaking off the question. “I was talking to Lessi and Lotte about the States, cause my parents still want me to have an education. But to be fair, my agent hasn't told me any offers. I don't think she will until the Euros are over.”

“Well, you heard it hear first.” Rachel beamed. “Baby England to Villa!”

The Cameraman was about to end the video when a booming fury echoed from across the room.

All heads turned to an enraged Leah storming over. “I said no Villa talk!”

__________________________________

yourusername (pretend it's you and Leah)

yourusername — sorry @ rachdaly, no Villa talk

Comments

milliebright — u say nothing about Chelsea, right?

^ leahwilliamson — don't even go there.

lionesses — football’s coming home 🫶🏼

racheldaly — I’ll find a way

^ leahwilliamson — no you won't.

user1 — Leah fighting for Y/N’s spot at Arsenal more than Arsenal themselves LMAO

^ user2 — she really said North London Forever

lottewubbenmoy — Baby England 🫶🏼

alessiarusso99 — beautiful girls

*liked by yourusername, leahwilliamson

User3 — is this an Aston Villa denial confirmation?

^ user4 — I think shes just referencing the YouTube video or Her, Jordan, Mils, and Rach.

^ user5 — shes got all these offers, who knows

^ user3 — she practically confirmed she was going to North Carolina in that video tho

^ user4 — 🤷‍♀️ you could say that is is an Arsenal Confirmation since Leah’s in it. Fr tho idk.

Leahwilliamson — my 🌟 girl

^ user6 — their friendship is so cute

User7 — All these clubs want her, WHERE WILL SHE GO

^ yourusername — 👀

^ user7 — STOP DO NOT DO THIS TO ME

__________________________________

[likedovesinthewindd]

pookie!!! saw u are taking saltburn requests!!!!

thoughts on farleigh + reader with the same amount of snark as him?? like initially not being able to STOMACH each other & biting each other’s heads over (both ignoring felix’s groaned requests to “keep the peace”) and then being like…. wait why r u….kinda……

just that back and forth banter would be so good with him + ur WRITING!!! big smooches mwah

ugghh your mind!! love this and love you, sending smooches back ×100 !!! (fem!reader, wc: ±1700)

"I don't understand what's wrong?" you asked, briefly looking over your essay again before sparing your tutor a confused glance, waiting for his input instead. "There's nothing wrong with it," Farleigh's voice only deepened your frown, "It's just a little... loose."

"Loose?"

"Yeah, loose. You don't have a really strong argument," he continued, head resting in his palm as he peered at you from where he sat on the couch. "I'm sorry, but I don't agree with you. My argument is quite coherent right throughout," you said. "Maybe, but is it convincing?" he said, small smile on his lips that made your blood boil.

"Okay," you sighed softly, "How about your essay, Farleigh?" you asked, internally reveling at the way his cocky smile faltered. "I'm working on it," he huffed after a short pause. "Well until then, keep your comments to yourself."

"I was just trying to help," he retorted.

"Oh, screw you."

"Alright, I think we can end tonight's session early. Give you some time to finish up," your lecturer interrupts. "And give you, mister Start, time to actually begin?" he gives Farleigh a pointed look.

You hastily packed your things away before wordlessly making your way out. Your poor tutor must've been used to the two of yours constant arguing by now, seeing as that was how many of your sessions ended. You never saw eye to eye and the banter was stupid most of the time, but Farleigh had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could.

You were beginning to think he had some sort of personal vendetta against you, even though you really couldn't think of ways that you've wronged him in the past that deserved that sort of behavior. He loved embarrassing you, and as many times as you've tried to be the better person, you just couldn't help from slipping your own little comments, satisfaction only really gained when you managed to wipe the smug smile from his face.

Farleigh had completely spoiled your mood, and you figured the best way to forget about your day would be to go out for a few drinks. You definitely felt like a loser going to the pub alone but you wouldn't have been great company anyway. You however, very quickly regretted your decision when you saw the very source of your foul mood sitting by one of the tables causing a commotion as he often did. Felix saw him before he did, excitedly calling out to you and asking you to join them.

Farleigh wasn't as excited as the rest of the table at your presence, but you refused to let him ruin your night.

"Funny seeing you outside." Farleigh said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtay in the middle of the full table. "Why would it be funny?" you asked. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "You're just such a homebody, hardly see you anywhere," he said. "But it's probably for the best, right?" he added, and you already sensed a verbal lashings following. "You'll need all the extra study time if you're gonna keep up."

"Farleigh," Felix silently scolded, but by now your heart was already beating in your ears, irritation setting deep inside your chest and making you feel hot with rage.

You bit the inside of your cheek. "You always seem to forget that you got into Oxford on favors," you said, watching the way the corner of his mouth twitched, facade still holding strong. "I'm not the one partying my life away. If anyone needs extra study time, it's you." In retrospect, it probably was a low blow, but the ethical line was hardly visible when it came to Farleigh.

The silence at the table was all consuming, and Felix, like the godsend he was, decided to speak up and end the wordless staring competition between the two of you. "Okay, uhm, shots. We need shots," he said, everyone quickly agreeing with him. "C'mon Farleigh, come help me," he said, practically dragging the boy along with him.

From there it only got worse the more time the two of you spent together, which was quite frequently because you ran in the same circles. You were friends by chance, only really connected through Felix, who you've known for years. Your mothers were friends, and the two of you quickly became close through her visits to their sprawling estate, often dragging you along. You've met Farleigh through Felix, and though it was evident the two of you didn't get along, Felix was still determined to try and make it work.

₊˚⊹

You were beyond relieved to be able to spend the summer away from uni and get a chance to breathe again without any academic stress. You had planned to visit your mother back home until Felix had asked you to come to Saltburn to spend the summer with them instead.

"C'mon," he tried, "Venetia will be so happy to see you again. And mum." You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating his offer carefully. It wasn't an extremely difficult decision; the days at Saltburn served as some of the best memories you've ever made.

You certainly didn't regret accepting his offer either. The last few weeks have been amazing at the grand estate, exciting and overwhelming in the best way. It would've, however, been much better if Farleigh wasn't looming over you like a dark cloud. You genuinely tried to keep the peace, but he knew exactly how to aggravate you. You could see it was beginning to irritate everyone around you, especially Felix.

"Will this work for tonight?" you asked, smoothing your hand over the soft material of the dress. It was so easy to run out of appropriate attire when you had to give your best every night at Saltburn. Tonight was special, and although you weren't specially dressing up for the Henry's, you still didn't want to embarrass Elsbeth by being underdressed.

Venetia was lounging in the bed while you paced around the room. "You've already worn that dress," she said, making you huff. "I know," you whispered. "We can get something from my closet," she said as she stood up from the bed and made her way to you. "Or we can ask mum. Don't worry," she added with a smile.

₊˚⊹

The dinner was kind of dull, the Henry to your left not nearly as entertaining as the one to Venetia's left judging by the quick glances she spared you every time one of his jokes fell flat. Every now and then, your attention would sneak over to Farleigh; a pensive look thredded between his furrowed brows when his eyes caught yours.

The highlight of your night was definitely after dinner, when sir Catton had suggested karaoke. You were quite amused by Henry's rendition as the lot of you watched as the man made a fool of himself. Farleigh took a seat next to you on the couch, sparing you a smile.

"You clean up nicely," he smiled, sparing a look down at your dress, the sparkly material reflecting the warm light from the fire. His hand ghosted over the necklace around your neck, fingers tracing over the small pendant. You prayed that he didn't notice the way your breath caught in your throat at the little bit of contact.

"Thanks," you answered, smoothing a hand over the lapel of his suit jacket. "You don't look too bad yourself." He only scoffed, eyes now focused on your hand as it retracted from his chest. You didn't spare him another look, attention refocusing on Henry's recital.

The whole affair was getting boring, and before you knew it, your thoughts were back to Farleigh, a question on your mind that you've been burning to ask him. "Can I ask you a question?" you turned, asking before you lost your confidence. He raised his eyebrow in interest, urging you to continue. "Why do you hate me?" you asked. The question caught him off guard, rendering him speechless for the first time since you've known him.

"I don't," he started before scoffing, "I don't hate you." You pursed your lips, shaking your head in disagreement. "You do. At least you act like you do." He only smiled, shuffling closer on the couch, face impossibly closer to yours as he gave you a once-over.

Even though the topic was quite loaded, it was ironically the calmest conversation the two of you have had in a long time. It was reminiscent of the time the two of you were younger and still getting to know each other. Somewhere along the line, something shifted, and he started treating you like shit. You only returned the favor.

"You weren't always this mean either," you added. His eyes still examined the expanse of your face; trailing down the slope of your nose and into the dip of your cupids bow. His attention made you feel self-conscious in a way, tongue poking out to wet your lips.

You had no reason to even feel self-conscious, but Farleigh had a special talent for making you feel small in his presence. Somewhere beneath the irritation and resentment hid a feeling that made warmth settle deep in your belly everytime you saw him. It's a feeling you only gave yourself the luxury of experiencing in the dead of the night when your thoughts were all that kept you awake. The overbearing anger would subside and then that funny feeling would settle over your body and deep inside your chest in a near painful way.

You never called it by it's name, too scared that if you did it would manifest itself and become reality. But now as the two of you sat on the couch, the cheering and singing fading into background noise as a pair of deep brown eyes stared into yours, you finally had to courage to admit it to yourself.

"I don't hate you," he repeated one more time, voice slightly breathless and a sullen look on his face. "On the contrary, actually." That made you laugh almost too loudly. "So what," you scoffed, "you act like a teenage boy and pick on me because you had a crush on me?"

He shrugged, the motion causing the refined material of his suit to rub against your arm. "Maybe I just wanted your attention," he smiled, placing a brief kiss to your cheek before briskly getting up from the couch to cut Henry's musical number short. You uncleanched your balled fists that were bunching up the expensive material of your dress, the tension leaving your body with a sigh once Farleigh's words register.

[purinfelix]

hi!! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do one where Gavi and the reader hate each other, but one day the reader had nobody to turn to so for some reason she found comfort with Gavi if that makes sense

i don't want to talk about anything ₊˚⊹⋆

pairing: (academic rival) gavi x reader w/c: 1.5k a/n: ANON i love this idea and im sorry its been sitting in my inbox for so long - i decided to sort of involve it with the academic rivals fic i wrote, since it made sense to me, hope u don't mind! <3

No matter how many times you blinked, the words of your essay refused to stay still on the laptop in front of you, the feeling of your eyes growing tired only adding to your frustration. According to the irritatingly loud clock on the wall, you had been at the university library for almost five hours now, on top of an entire day of lectures and tutorials. Your head ached, and your mouth was dry ever since you had run out of water an hour ago but had been too engrossed in studying to go get more, and every time you closed your eyes you considered falling asleep right there and then. You hadn't even gone insane before, but you were pretty sure this was as close as you were going to get.

Forcing yourself to stand up you tried your best not to dwell on how unprepared you felt for your upcoming finals, or how many assignments you still had to finish. Even with how tired you were, your brain still managed enough energy to stress you out, even as you definitively shut the textbooks you had brought with you. You were more than aware of how childish this was, having thought you'd outgrown your ridiculous study methods years ago. But something about your recent dip in grade, how frustrated and helpless it made you feel, had spurred you into a frenzy you were too far into to stop. You couldn't recall the last spare hour you hadn't spent studying or the last conversation you had that hadn't been about exams.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you reluctantly left the desk that had been your home for the majority of the evening. After a struggle, you managed to get the library doors open and were immediately. met with the miserably biting cold of the late winter night - the thought of the long trek back to your dorm room acting as salt in the wound. Your hands are already freezing as they dart into your jacket pocket in search of your phone, and you flick it on to check for any response to the many, many texts you had sent to your friends. Most of them were invited to study with you or questions about lectures, but all you were met with was a pathetically empty inbox, the reflection of your own tired face once it switched off, and the stinging realisation of just how isolated you had become, and how lonely you felt. Perhaps it was this, or the howling wind whipping around you, that caused tears to prick up in your eyes as you bit your lip painfully hard to stop them from falling.

You're overcome with a sudden desperation to get back to your dorm as quickly as possible before anyone can see you crying like an idiot. The added barrier of your own fatigue makes this difficult though, and the immense cold doesn't help. Before you know it though you're already halfway there, passing by the campus football court which is still brightly lit and lively despite how late it's getting - a fact you curse as you make out a familiar figure, and the single last person you want to see right now.

Gavi seems to spot you too and even though you hand your head to prevent any more tears, you can hear his loud footsteps as he leaves his friends and game to jog up to you. He calls out your name and the smug tone in his voice is enough for you to will your legs to move faster. When you don't stop, you hear him pause before running up to match your pace.

"Long day at the library, huh?" he jeers, walking beside you and clearly not taking any notice to the fact that you're not in the mood to entertain his ego. Usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to flex your work ethic in his lazy face but not now, not with how you're feeling. All you wish is for him to leave you alone before he sees you crying and it gives him another thing to make fun of you for - but just as this entire day has turned out, your wishes are far from granted.

"You know, I did notice you've been slacking a little lately. Even I found the last quiz pretty easy and I could tell you struggled with it."

You scoff loudly at his words but don't offer a response in fear of him being able to tell something's off from the quiver you're bound to have. A small part of you does question why he's been paying so much attention to you lately but has little time to when you feel him reach out to grab your hand, suddenly jerking you back and stopping you in your tracks.

Finally, you crane your neck up without thinking and lock eyes with his, and you hear the next comment he was preparing catch in his throat. It happens so quickly that you almost don't notice it, but his smug expression softens immediately and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes once he sees your tear-stricken face. The contrast from the teasing way he normally looks at you is so stark it almost stops the flow of tears from your eyes, and you almost wish it had because now you're standing here sniffling like an idiot, and he's standing there watching you.

"Hey…" he mumbles, and the pity in his voice is enough to make you want to run away, even as he drops your hand. Still, you can tell he's not enjoying the awkward situation any more than you are but is trying his best.

"I'm fine," you blurt out instinctively, messily wiping the stream of tears from your cheeks before laughing - at what you're not entirely sure, but you're desperate for an opportunity to lighten the mood.

"You don't look it," he sounds so mature that it almost takes you aback.

You hang your head, half in shame and half so that you don't have to look into his eyes when you lie. "I'm just really tired."

It's almost irritating how sudden his movements can be and how easily they can catch you off guard, but his athleticism has never blended itself to subtlety. Still, it's hard not to be shocked when he pulls you once more and before you realise it you're enveloped in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. His body still radiates heat from the exercise he was just doing, a fact that you find comfort in. Before you can stop yourself, you're already sinking into his touch, its catharsis being exactly what you needed, but hadn't realised. You wrap your arms back around him and close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heart is bold and quick as you listen to it, and you chalk this up to the exercise as well - an excuse you're not lucky enough to have for your own quickening heart.

He's the first to break the silence. "You're the smartest person I know, you know." He says it barely above a whisper, and he seems to be confessing more to the night sky than to you.

If you had just a little more pride in yourself, you might've met this with one of your usual jabs. Strangely enough though, all signs of the competitive nature you reserve for him have gone missing. Maybe it's because of your surprise that he seems to know exactly what you need to hear, but you're sure it's more because of how tired you are.

"Thank you," is all you can quietly muster up, but given how earnestly it comes out, you hope it'll be enough.

"I don't mean to stress you out, not just now but all the time. I'm sorry for that," he sighs, and you can tell without seeing his face that he really means it.

"It's alright, I appreciate it," you laugh softly, before adding, "sometimes."

He squeezes you a little harder and standing there in his arms, despite how mind-numbingly strange the situation is, you allow yourself to forget about some things for a bit. Forget about how late it is, about all the work you still have to do, about how you're not meant to like him at all, how you're hoping no one you know sees the two of you right now. For just a minute, the two of you share a world you had only gotten teasing glimpses of during your heated conversations in hallways, your quick comparisons after grades get released or quippy comebacks. Only now, not a single word needs to pass between you two - the sound of his beating heart and the strange sense of comfort that falls over you being all you need.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot

Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...

Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.

Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.

Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?

WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-

On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs

But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader

Planet: Language Shenanigans

Orbit: Scenario

Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),

& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.

You were not a very confident writer.

This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.

You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.

things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.

If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…

So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,

You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.

Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.

Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.

You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world

After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)

Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???

you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-

and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-

His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,

“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”

…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),

and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all

you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!

◇

Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.

You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???

You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???

(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)

You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:

you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-

you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-

oh my god-

Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-

You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.

You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.

“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”

Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)

and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!

Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-

But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??

Like he’s done nothing wrong???

You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!

He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.

Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.

“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”

…

….Motherfucker.

☆

Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,

1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!

Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!

Safe Travels Anon,

That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]

Iced coffee?? :0

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

[barblaz-arts]

Stephanie Beatrice had played my 3 favorite characters (Rosa Mirabel and Vaggie) and since I watched Encanto and B99 I have my head canon that Vaggie have both Rosa and Mirabel personalities.

Any way, I just want to know what is your head canon or theory about her? ( specifically about Lute calling her weak and why the other exorcist hate her)

Since she is your girl, I would love to read your essay about her.(I’m joking you don’t have to write that much I just like to read your post)

Thank you

"My girl"... Am I just "that one artist who's the biggest Vaggie stan" to you guys? (I won't mind it!)

Oh man! I do have some ideas! A lot of my headcanons were already kinda sorta mentioned in my fic/art tho, so sorry if you're not getting a lot of new info

- I have this headcanon that Vaggie's always been "softer" than the other Exorcists, which is what I assume Lute meant when she said she "always knew [Vaggie] was weak". I know it probably has more to do with how little time each episode has, but what if Lute was so ready, already behind Vaggie when she let that kid go, because she knew this wasn't the first time Vaggie spared a sinner? Maybe that was just the first time Lute actually caught her. Maybe she's always had her suspicions, when Vaggie's kill count would lower every year, and she'd sometimes find Vaggie saying a sinner got away somehow despite cornering that demon moments ago.

- although she's gotten used enough to her lack of depth perception when it comes to her hand eye coordination, especially when fighting, i like to think her reading ability could never truly go back to the way it used to be, so she has trouble reading/ writing/texting (if you notice, i always showed instances of this in my fic ;> )But because she's the hotel manager she still has to deal with them because of paperwork and shit, so she has prescription glasses that help. I'd wanted to include a scene in the First Guest where Vaggie almost cries after seeing Charlie thru the glasses for the first time, because she didn't think Charlie could be any more beautiful, but i scrapped the idea because I couldn't expand the concept enough to an actual scene that could be relevant to the overall fic. I probably should have just mentioned it in a paragraph or something, but by the time i remembered id already posted the chapter I intended to add it in. Maybe I'll use it for another fic.

- she prefers femme clothing so she doesn't really have a reason to do this, but she learned how to do all kinds of ties so that she could do Charlie's whenever

- she grew her hair to compensate for her lost wings

- she wasn't exactly a great cook before she Fell, but she was pretty capable when she lived alone in Heaven. Cooking for Charlie tho gave her the motivation to get better and actually enjoy it

- an angel trait that she could never truly abandon is being a stickler for rules. She's very strict on everyone and herself with these things, within reason. So even when she and Charlie started dating, she insisted that they can't sleep together until they've had their third date. When they're on the clock, they have to be professional and avoid flirtatious advances in front of staff and guests. Charlie didn't mind because she prefers privacy too.

- Vaggie's physical appearance slightly changed gradually the longer she stayed in hell. As an angel, her sclera was paler, her incisors duller, and her skin grayer. But as time passed, her sclera got more and more peach/pink, fangs sharper, and skin more purple toned

- i still like to think that Vaggie's old backstory back when only the pilot was out (having died in 2014 in her early twenties who worked as a sex worker in El Salvador) was still true. Maybe it's just because I've liked Chaggie since pilot, and I've grown really attached to that backstory. I also just really don't want Vaggie to be Heavenborn for some reason. Among the cast she just seems the most grounded to reality to me, so having her revealed to have never been human and born "divine" just doesn't seem right to me. I also just think it'd be cute and funny if it turns out she's chronologically the youngest in the hotel even tho she's basically everyone's strict not-mom.

- idgaf what Adam says, I wanna think that "Vaggie" is short for "Evangeline". I used to have these 2 coworkers in their late 50's to 60's who had Evangeline as their government name, but one of them goes by "Vanj" and the other "Vajee". Being older Filipino women who aren't really too fluent in English, they never thought there was anything wrong with that when they grew up with their nicknames. I like to think that the case was the same if Vaggie used to be human. I'm not sure how common English is in El Salvador, but I'm willing to bet it's possible she could have been given that nickname as a kid by an older family member who didn't know a lot of English. Also Evangeline makes more sense to have been the name of an angel cmon now...

[megumimania]

THINKING BOUT YOU— gojo satoru

synopsis: whilst in a meeting about megumi’s conduct, gojo’s mind seems to be focused on one thing, you.

warnings: dad!gojo, gojo satoru x fem!reader, megumi having to put up with gojo’s bs, fluff, gojo being a shameless flirt, gojo attempting to be a concerned parent

“this is stupid.” huffed a 13 year old megumi.

megumi wasn’t here on his own volition of course as this was the doing of his annoying guardian gojo satoru. ever since he found out you were megumi’s teacher he’d been bribing megumi to get into trouble at school so he’d have a reason to come and see you.

“oh megumi this isn’t stupid, remember what i promised if you played your part?” he asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

megumi knew that gojo had him hook line and sinker. he cursed himself for showing a semblance of a smile when they walked past the pet store last week.

“fine but don’t get in a mood when she turns you down.” he replied with a sass that gojo dismissed as typical teenage angst, something he was all too familiar with.

megumi politely knocked on your classroom door sparing no time for gojo to prepare his little act. “megumi, come take a seat.” you beckoned him in noticing the little scratch on his cheek that made you slightly concerned.

his tall white haired guardian followed in shortly after, taking the seat opposite you. “i’m really glad you could make it today gojo-san.” you addressed him politely, reaching over to shake his hand as you’d do with any other parent.

his hand lingered on yours for a second longer as he gazed into your eyes with such an intensity it made megumi sick. he was really pulling out all the stops for you wasn’t he?

“there’s no need for the formalities when we’re practically the same age.” he pointed out with a charming smile, letting your hand go in the process.

your cheeks were practically aflame as you tried to retain some sense of self control. “oh right…um. megumi.” you nodded at megumi who looked like he’d rather the ground swallow him whole than watch this interaction play out.

you expressed your concern over megumi’s behaviour and something about a report. gojo was half listening, half not. he was more preoccupied with staring at you with not a single ounce of shame. even behind those spectacles his gaze was intense making you lose focus at some points.

“…this is megumi’s third fight in the last two weeks.”

a sharp kick from under the desk by megumi jolted him back to earth. gojo winced in pain as megumi looked on as if nothing happened. he made a mental note to embarrass the hell out of megumi later.

you were unaffected by the silent altercation going on in front of you. despite megumi’s disdain towards his guardian it seemed like he rubbed off on him a little bit. their mannerisms were eerily similar that if it wasn’t for the physical differences, they could’ve easily passed for siblings.

“if this was any other student this would be an immediate suspension but megumi is a stellar student and we don’t think he would benefit from that at all.”

gojo let out a sigh of relief.

as much as he loved being around megumi, he could admit that he did not have the time nor the facilities to teach him whilst he was at home. in his defence he was too busy carrying the jujutsu world on his back, which was a gruelling task in of itself.

he slapped his knee an indicator that he was ready to grab megumi and go home. he ushered megumi outside, telling him to wait for him in the car to which a disgruntled megumi surprisingly did. as soon as he left, gojo jumped on your desk.

his sapphire blue eyes trained on you, watching you mark your students essays with a furrow in your brow that he desperately wanted to smooth away.

ah how he knew the pains of marking essays all too well, with panda's and toge's essays being the ones he usually offloaded to other staff when they wasn't looking.

“how did i do?” gojo asked, his voice like honey to your ears.

the classroom was now tinted with a pinkish orange hue as the sun started to set, casting shadows in the classroom. “megumi’s a smart kid, he probably knows now with how obvious you were.” you responded, trying to not loose this mgroove you were in

“i wasn’t being that obvious.” gojo grumbled to himself. he knew damn well he was being obvious as hell but didn’t want to admit it, the irony of his remark making you scoff.

"seriously?" you gave him a deadpan stare. gojo's whole existence was the epitome of obviousness: his striking looks, his cursed technique, his lineage, hell even his personality was far from discreet. however he still maintained his defense.

"megumi is a smart kid but at the end of the day he's still a kid. he probably thinks I was just being a bit too full on." he drummed his fingers against the desk and you laughed at his delusion.

in the short time you knew megumi, you already established that he was an incredibly smart and perceptive kid, even for someone his age.

“stop doubting him.” and that was a tough pill for gojo to swallow, it was easier to pretend that megumi was like every kid in the world than accept the fact that soon he’ll have his childhood robbed from him.

that he would be forced to grow up and become essentially a child soldier for an invisible group of elders and clan leaders, fighting battles that will scar him for life. being a sorcerer was a thankless job but thank god the pay was decent.

gojo decides that he’s not going to bore you with his late night worries about megumi, after all they were his own worries sto bear.

“i’ll think about it more once you’ve given me a kiss.” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling as he closes his eyes and puckers up. you snort at his childish behaviour as you eventually cave in, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

you pull away as a camera clicks from behind you, a blinding white flash, forcing you to blink away the light. megumi looked smug as hell, finally enjoying the first time he’s successfully managed to one up gojo. the childlike glee in his typical sullen expression being the one that gojo desperately wanted to protect.

“you little…” gojo took off after that not bothering to finish his sentence, busy chasing megumi down the hallway outside into the car park where your back window conviently faced.

gojo now had megumi in a headlock much to the dismay of their driver, who honestly looked so worn out and so over their nonsense. gojo’s long arms desperately tries to reach for the camera in megumi’s hands but to no avail as the camera is already in the air before he can react.

in a move no one saw coming, megumi manages to shake off the invincible gojo by biting his finger. the white haired man winces in pain looking at his slightly reddening finger with minimal concern, as the camera lands in the driver’s hands.

after a few minutes of roughhousing gojo surrenders, warily draping his arm lazily over megumi’s shoulder as they make their way back to the car. your heart warms as the love and admiration they have for eachother is clearly shared in their own weird ways.

with the playful display of bravado over with now, you peel your eyes away from the window, closing the lights, blinds and whiteboard, grabbing your jacket before locking your classroom door shut.

your walk home is nothing short of uneventful but even as the music blares in your headphones, you can’t get over the sound of megumi and gojo battling it out in the school car park, the thought of that bringing a smile to your face.

he truly did love him.

[crayooongle]

Just a little help (1.6k)

Kōtarō Bokuto x (f)reader

cw: unprotected sex, (f)receiving, oral, just a smidgen of overstimulation

pet names: baby, princess

summary: 

your boyfriend just got home from a game with some extra energy and he really needs your help draining it

 You truly hated how long this essay was taking you to write. You were hoping you would’ve been done before today but your constant procrastination put your goal to an immediate stop. It’s not that you didn’t know how to write a good essay, or that you couldn’t; but it’s not like your boyfriend was much of a help either. Whenever he’d come home to your shared apartment after practice or a game he’d cling right onto you like a koala. You knew if you’d accept his needy acts of affection you’d end up not getting any work done but he was just too cute to resist. 

 Today was gonna be different- at least you hoped it would be. Your boyfriend had a game today and you were planning on putting your foot down as soon as he tried falling into his typical routine. You were sure you would finally get to finish this assignment and turn it in by today if you just gently let Bokuto know he’d have to hold off on kisses and cuddling until you were done. 

 Just as you finished the 3rd page out of your 5 page essay, you decide to head to the kitchen for a little snack. With perfect timing your front door flung right open revealing your still sweaty boyfriend. His eyes lit up and a huge grin appeared on his face as soon as he saw you. 

“Y/N!!!” He cheered as he sprinted towards you to pick you up and spin you around as if you were a Disney princess. 

“I missed you so much. What’d you do today? Did you miss me? Did you eat?” He bombarded you with questions while holding you in his strong arms.

“I missed you too Bo calm down.” You giggled, “I really need to finish my essay today, can you just leave me alone until I’m done?” You ask and make sure to place a soft kiss on Bokuto’s cheek. 

He completely deflated and frowned, “finee”.

“Thank youuu, i promise we can watch a movie tonight as soon as I’m done. Now go shower, you smell like ass.” 

“I do NOT smell like ass,” he huffed seemingly offended, you just pushed him towards your shared bathroom instead of fighting with him. As soon as he hopped in the shower you went right back to typing away at your laptop. 

 It was a reoccurring theme for Bokuto to have left over energy after a game. Whenever he did, he usually just turned to you for help. Not to mention, Bokuto has a lot of stamina so he’d usually end up going several rounds with you but you didn’t mind it. Expectedly, today was one of those days but unfortunately you’d requested he’d leave you alone. He didn’t that think this would be a problem until he took his shorts off and saw how erect he was.

Bokuto tried to ignore it as he scrubbed himself clean but simply couldn’t. He just wasn’t able to get you off his mind. All the times he would have you in a mating press while slowly drilling into you were racing through his head. The way he’d maintain eye contact with you every-time you came was having his dick throbbing.  He got so accustomed to you letting him fuck the spare energy away that he didn’t realized how much he relied on you for these types of problems.

 Bokuto tried to just rub one out in the shower but no matter what he couldn’t finish. These lewd thoughts of you were all he could think about but his hand was simply not enough. Frustration was building up, he would’ve felt horrible asking you for help but it seemed like it was the only thing he could do. Bokuto finally gave up and stepped out the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist before making his way to the shared bedroom. Your eyes trailed his body once he walked in. The mixture of the way the water was glistening against his toned body, his hair down and slightly wet, and his towel hanging low exposing his V-line made butterflies swarm in your stomach. You two had been dating for about 3 years but every-time he got out the shower you couldn’t help but get flustered. 

 You drag your eyes back down to your laptop so you can focus on your work.

“You need some help baby?” Bokuto asked as he set his towel to the side. 

 “Oh yeah actually, can you just proof read-“ Bokuto cut you off by opening your legs and crawling in between them. 

 “Bo… what are you-“ You trail off while keeping your eyes on him. Out of sheer embarrassment you try to close your legs but Bokuto forces them open a bit aggressively. He continued by grabbing onto your thighs kissing his way up your body, slowly moving closer to your pussy. 

 You move your laptop to the side so Bokuto can remove your shorts and underwear. He got right back to work after that, starting by placing gentle kisses on your pussy. You subconsciously bucked your hips upward, the anticipation was growing and it was killing you.

 Bokuto began to lick slow long stripes against your pussy, you whined as you craved more. You slip your fingers into his still wet hair and you noticed Bokuto was grinding against the bed. He was definitely desperate for some sort of relief. 

 Bokuto ate you out like a starving man, it was messy but, the way he never made it seem like a chore to him always turned you on. He moved one hand off your thigh to bring it to your clit, he rubbed it as he hastily licked, sucked and kissed your pussy. He could tell you were getting close just by the way your legs were shaking around him and your moans were getting louder. 

 “It feels good, doesn’t it princess?” Bokuto asks in between kisses.

“Mhmm, so good needa cum soon,” is all you can let out, you’re too focused on the pleasure. Bokuto speeds up, he wants nothing more than for you to cum on his tongue and he’s determined to make sure it happens. 

 “Ahh, Bokuto im gonna cum,” Just as expected, you throw your head back and finish but Bokuto isn’t done. He starts to lick up the rest of your juices spilling out, making sure nothing goes to waste. You can’t do anything more than whine and beg for him to give you a break, it was just too much for you to take. After a couple more seconds he backs off and instead goes up to pull you into a heated kiss. He grabs your hand and places it right on his fully hard cock. You wrap your hand around it and slowly move your hand up and down. Bokuto groans in the kiss, he moves away from your lips to kiss at your neck instead.

“Please Y/N, I really need you,” He begs in between kisses. 

You continue to move your hand at a teasingly slow pace, Bokuto’s frustration only builds up.

 He flipped you over so you could be on top. Then, he grabbed onto your hips and put you in reverse cowgirl. He didn’t give you anytime to adjust, he just slammed you down against his cock. You yelped in response, Bokuto was far from small. His dick wasn’t the longest but there was enough girth for him to easily tear your pussy. 

 He had his hands on your hips to make sure you didn’t stop. He was just so close he couldn’t handle you delaying his release any longer.

“Say my name,” Bokuto let out in between moans

“Ahh Bokuto” You whined while rolling your hips.

Seemly dissatisfied with your answer, Bokuto sat up a bit to slide his arm around your neck and pull closer against him. 

“I said, say my name,” he growled right in your ear.

“Koutarou!” You practically screamed out. 

Bokuto pulled out so he could bend you over instead, he immediately slammed right back into you. You were gripping onto the bedsheets while your face was stuffed into your pillow. Bokuto wasn’t holding back at all. His hands were digging into your waist as he slid in and out of you with ease. His thrusts were getting messier and messier, he right on the edge of finishing.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Bokuto groaned as he was trying to hold himself back from cumming right inside you at that very moment.

“Mhmm, im gonna cum,” you moaned.

Bokuto sped up, the room with filled with moans and the sound of skin slapping against each other. You were sure your neighbors could hear but that didn’t matter to either of you. 

“Fuck ahh, Y/N you feel so good,” Bokuto whined and threw his head back as he came. You came right after him and collapsed on the bed from exhaustion. 

 You both took a moment to calm down and catch your breath. But soon after, Bokuto scooped you up in his arms and cradled you like a baby. 

“Thank you so much Y/N, i loovvee youuu. Im really sorry for distracting you from your work,” he moved his head down kiss your forehead. 

“I love you too,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

He then got up to bring you to the bathroom so he could lovingly give you a bath as a sorry for interrupting you from finishing your assignment. Thankfully, you had enough energy to finish it after the bath.

[cranetreegang]

The Polyjuice Ploy - Ominis x FemReader

Well... this got out of hand. This was a request made by this lovely person -> @mentosanu and here is the original post/request

Hopefully I have not gone too crazy and this is somewhat what you wanted lol. if not... my b.

Shoutout again to @isolight for reading this over <3 you da best

Music to enjoy -> Flight of Dragons

Summary: Sebastian and Ominis, after reading through an old textbook, get the idea of Ominis drinking a Polyjuice Potion to enjoy a day of sight and surprise a certain special someone ;)

Word Count: ~7,8-, (checks word count again... omfg) ~7,800 words

Warnings: angst/hurt, slightly heated kissing, comfort/fluff

Credit to the Harry Potter website and JK where I basically stole *cough* rewrote the description of what a polyjuice potion does and the affects of the polyjuice when ominis transforms

Read my other Ominis Fics Here

-----------------------------------------

Ominis rests his head into his palm with a sigh. His quill writes out the last sentences he needs for his essay and he couldn’t be happier to be nearly done. Footsteps echoing on stone catch his attention, followed by the gate of the Undercroft rattling open. 

“Ah, was hoping to find you here.” Sebastian greets. 

“Looking for me, were you?” Ominis spares Sebastian a grin in greeting. “I’m busy at the moment, but if you don’t mind waiting-,”

Something heavy drops onto the table Ominis is using, sloshing his pot of ink. Ominis frowns as he feels over the object in front of him. 

“Why… what is this?” Ominis questions, tracing over the worn cover of a leather tome. He runs his other hand along the spine. The bindings of the book are exposed and he can feel the bumps of worn cords holding the loose pages together. Even the leather is peeling on the corners and edges. Whatever the title of the tome was, it’s long since faded as his wand can’t find a legible letter to decipher.

“Some light reading I need help with.” Sebastian states while he takes a seat next to Ominis.

Ominis sighs, “I don’t have time for this, Sebastian. I must finish this report for Profess-,”

“That can wait. This is far more pressing.” Sebastian shoves away all of Ominis’ writing utensils. 

“Sebastian!”

“Ominis, you were the one saying I needed to find other ways to cure Anne. Well, this could be it. Now, are you going to help me, or sit there and complain?” 

Ominis lets out a deep breath while he flips the book open, “Fine. But only for a little bit. Then I must finish my report.” Ominis stresses with a glare aimed towards Sebastian. 

“Thank you, my friend. I won’t soon forget this.” 

Ominis skims through the pages. Seems Sebastian procured an archaic textbook dated back to the first few years of Hogwarts - detailing the more illicit potions you could make. Elixirs ranging from the mundane boil remover to the far more deadly Eternal Sleep Draughts. Ominis doesn’t find much in the book to help Anne, not even a remedy to help with the pain. He flips to another page when he pauses. 

It enables the consumer to assume the physical appearance of another person, as long as they have first procured part of that individual’s body to add to the brew. The effects of the potion are only temporary, and, depending on how well it has been brewed, may last anywhere from ten minutes to twelve hours. You are able to change age, sex, and race by taking the Polyjuice Potion, but not species.

The more he reads, the more his thoughts stray from searching for a cure for Anne. To take on the physical appearance of someone else and to change… 

“Find something?” Sebastian questions, glancing over Ominis’ still wand digging into the page.

“No.” Ominis states and tries to turn to another section of the book, but Sebastian snatches the tome from Ominis’ grasp. He examines what has caught Ominis’ attention and Sebastian’s brows furrow at what he finds.

“Polyjuice Potion?” Sebastian looks over to Ominis. 

“I’m sorry. I got distracted. Can we please move on and go back to the task at hand?” Ominis reaches for the book, but Sebastian keeps it just out of his reach and chuckles.

“Why’re you so interested in a Polyjuice Potion, Ominis?” 

Ominis huffs with a shake of his head, “I’m not.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “You most definitely are.” 

Ominis crosses his arms with a snarl, “And if I am? What of it?”

Sebastian reads over the passage again, a smile forming on his lips, “I can see why you would be. If I’m thinking the same thing you are.” 

“It’s silly. I shouldn’t even entertain the thought.” Ominis dismisses. 

“Why not? Wouldn’t you want to spend the day being able to see?” 

Ominis frowns, “But, it wouldn’t be through my own eyes. It would have to be through someone else's. And I doubt anybody would be willing to give me a lock of hair for such a thing.” 

Sebastian puts his hand on Ominis’ shoulder with a slight grin, “It’s a good thing I am that somebody.” 

“What?”

“You heard me. I think we should make this potion and once it’s done, you can use my hair. It’ll be perfect!” Sebastian shakes Ominis in his excitement.

“Brewing a Polyjuice Potion takes time. And, far more importantly, skill. A skill I doubt either of us possesses.” 

Sebastian leans back in his chair with a hum, “That could pose a problem. Unless, we found someone to make us the potion.” 

Ominis cranes his head, “Who would be willing to-,” the words die in his mouth. His lips thin as he nods, “I know of someone. I’ll have to reach out to them though.” 

Sebastian claps his hands together with a grin, “Excellent. This may be one of your better ideas, Ominis.” 

Ominis snatches the book from Sebastain and goes back to researching, “We shall see, won’t we?”

===========================

Two weeks pass before Ominis receives word back from his contact. The letter is brief and Ominis is filled with excited trepidation as he heads to the Hog’s Head for the meeting. Ominis is relieved the transaction is quick, with few words exchanged. Ominis keeps the potion close to his chest as he heads to the Undercroft to stash it away until the right moment. 

Three days later, Sebastian finds Ominis pacing in the Undercroft. 

“Sorry I’m late.” Sebastian greets. “Ready for this?”

Ominis shakes his head, “I don’t know. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” 

“What’s the problem? You seemed sure yesterday.” 

Ominis stops, letting out a sigh, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? If you’re have any doubts, I-,” 

“I want to do this, Ominis.” Sebastian interjects. “Now, where is that potion before you change your mind.” 

Ominis reaches into his pocket and hands the potion over to Sebastian. Sebastain holds the palm-sized phial up to the fire’s light. He plucks out a few strands of his hair then he places them into the potion. A faint sizzling sound can be heard as Sebastian swirls the muddy liquid. Sebastian hands the potion back to Ominis.

“Drink up.” Sebastian grins. 

Ominis holds the potion in his hand - willing away his nerves. He raises the potion up with a slight smile, “Cheers.” 

He downs the thick liquid, refusing to allow himself to gag at the taste and consistency. 

Immediately, his insides start writhing and twisting. He doubles over, wondering if he’s going to throw up the concoction. A burning sensation spreads rapidly from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes. It’s enough to bring him gasping to all fours, whimpering and moaning as a horrible melting feeling begins to overtake him. His skin feels like it’s bubbling. His fingers stretch out, growing larger and longer. He hears the popping of his joints as they shift into their new positions over the rushing of blood in his ears. His shoulders stretch and he’s constricted in his own clothes. He rips off his robe, flinging it away, and his legs and feet are in agony. His shoes are now two sizes too small and he could feel his hair resting along his forehead instead of being neatly styled back. 

“Ominis! Ominis, are you alright? Answer me!” Sebastian demands, flipping Ominis over to his back.

Ominis spares him a nod, finding his tongue to be too heavy and thick in his mouth to speak. He no longer feels like he’s ripping apart and the nausea he felt has all but evaporated. 

Sebastian chuckles, “Wow. I… this is absolutely dotty.” 

Ominis’ brows pinch and Sebastian’s hands assist him into a sitting position. 

“Ominis. Open your eyes.” Sebastian urges. 

Ominis sucks in a sharp breath then slowly opens his eyes. A bright face grinning back at him is the first thing he sees. Ominis stares at the boy, taking in the sight. 

“Sebastian?” His voice is not his own and Sebastian’s eyes widen.

“Whoa! Oh, wow, Ominis. You can see.” Sebastian’s grin is contagious and Ominis matches his excitement. 

“I can see. I see you.” Ominis reaches up and touches Sebastian’s face, his eyes blurring with sharp tears burning his eyes and throat. Sebastian lets Ominis trace over his smiling face. It’s all so familiar. The bridge of Sebastian’s nose all the way down to the curve of his brows. Ominis didn’t expect his friend to have such dark eyes and dots all over his face. Sebastian’s hair is about how he pictured though - a thick mess on top of his head.

“Well? Am I what you envisioned, or have I disappointed?” Sebastian teases. 

Ominis shakes his head, “You’re nothing like I envisioned. Yet, it makes sense. I-,” he turns his attention to around them. He gets to his shaky legs and laughs as he looks around. 

The room is far less inviting than he imagined with the stone being a dull, dreary hue. The lights of the brazers and candles lures him closer. The warmth of their light takes his breath away and his hand reaches out to hover just over the flames. He turns his gaze to all the crates, boxes, and other items stored away down here. Some are covered in a fine layer of dust, while others are draped over with light colored sheets.

“This is the Undercroft.” Ominis mumbles to himself. 

“Indeed it is.” Sebastian grabs each of Ominis’ shoulders and drags him over to a cracked mirror. “And here you are.” 

Ominis stares at the two identical boys in the mirror. Ominis’ eyes widen and the boy across from him does the same. He tilts his head and so does the reflection. He touches over his cheek and drags his fingers down over the tanned, freckled skin. 

He looks over to Sebastian, “How odd indeed.” 

“I must say, this is probably the best you’ve ever looked, Ominis.” Sebastian smirks. 

Ominis laughs, “I’m sure.” 

Ominis stares at Sebastian, finding it unbelievable he can actually see his friend looking back at him with a devilish smile. He could always hear Sebastian’s smirks when he spoke, but to see how it affects his face, especially his eyes - illuminating them in a way Ominis doesn’t quite understand - makes him wonder if all people are this animated.

“Well, as exciting as being here is, there’s a whole bunch of things you ought to see before that potion wears off.” Sebastian states. 

Ominis nods, “Yes. Of course. Where should we begin?” 

Sebastian smirks while guiding Ominis towards the exit gate, “Sorry, my friend, but I’m afraid I can’t go with you.” 

“What?! Why not? This was practically your idea.” Ominis scowls. 

Sebastian raises a brow, “Oh? And tell me how good of an idea will it be for the both of us to be seen together right now? They know I’m a twin, but I doubt they’ll believe this.” He gestures over Ominis. 

“Besides,” Sebastian slips off his robe and tosses it to Ominis, “you already have plans today.” 

“I do?” Ominis shrugs on the robe, adjusting the sleeves and rolling his shoulders.

“Yep! You’re supposed to be meeting up with a certain special someone right about now.” Sebastian grins.

“What? You made plans with her?” Ominis crosses his arms with a frown. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “By I, I mean, you, Ominis.” 

Ominis’ brows furrow, “You mean to say you didn’t tell her what we’re doing.” 

“No. It’s better this way - trust me.” Sebastian opens the gate and motions for Ominis to go through, “Now, go to the North Exit. And have fun today. I’ll be here waiting until you come back.” 

Ominis wants to protest, but Sebastian slams the gate closed in his face and starts walking away. Ominis sighs, making his way out of the Undercroft. 

He’s met with a near blinding light once he emerges from the clock. His eyes roam all over, taking in the sights of students passing by. He grips his wand and follows the familiar vibrations towards the North Exit, but his stride is slow. The sounds he’s heard all start to merge together. The paintings, the statues, the students, the smells of certain plants - all of it forms the full picture before him. He stops several times in front of vibrant paintings of faraway places, suits of armor shining in the light, and when he takes a bridge outside, he’s completely entranced. 

The sky above is a color he finds the most pleasing. Blue. That must be the color blue, he realizes. With gentle clouds rolling by, he’s starting to understand how people can gaze up at the heavens for hours on end. Students zip by on their brooms and he laughs at how wonderful the sight is. The sun peeks out over the towering castle. He can’t believe how small the sun is - he always imagined it taking up half the sky considering how much the light reaches. He has to look away when his eyes begin to burn and dark spots blot his vision. He continues his journey to the North Exit, but as he gets closer and closer the more his nerves start to show themselves. 

Seeing Sebastian for the first time was surprising, so he can only imagine how he’ll react to seeing her. His heart won’t slow down - it keeps getting faster and faster with every step closer he gets. His hands clench and unclench themselves and he’s practically grinding his teeth into dust. He’s tempted to turn around, hide in the Undercroft until the potion wears off, just to cease this torture. He’s at the stairway gripping the cool railing as he descends. Just before he reaches the last step, the vibrations of his wand pick up a familiar aura of someone. His stomach twists. He looks over to find a girl standing by the door. 

She cranes her head and smiles with a light wave, “Sebastian! What’re you doing here?” 

Ominis freezes in place - his mind barely able to shove his wand into his robe’s pockets. His heart hammers in his chest and he can’t breathe. She walks towards him with confusion lacing her eyes. Her eyes. He can’t stop staring at them. They’re a beautiful color he’s not familiar with. They almost seem to sparkle. And how she moves is enchanting. It’s like she’s floating right over to him. Her perfume reaches his nose and a smile stretches across his face at the familiarity. 

“Sebastian? Everything alright? Do I have something on my face?” She laughs, but her brows pinch together with slight worry at the thought. 

“What? Um, no. I-, You look great. I-I mean, you’re-, It’s fine.” Ominis curses himself and decides shutting his mouth would be best for now until he regains control of his rattled mind. 

She nods with her eyes slightly narrowed, “Well, um, have you seen Ominis?” 

“Ominis?” 

She laughs, “Yes, Ominis. You know, our friend? You said he’d be meeting me here to go to Hogsmeade. But, it looks like he’s running late.” 

Damn Sebastian for telling her that. He probably thinks he’s so clever, Ominis seethes to himself. 

“Well, actually…,” Ominis takes in her awaiting features, noting how much her face speaks for her - much like Sebastian’s. If only he could recognize what emotion she’s currently conveying with her pinched brows and slight frown. Perhaps Sebastian had a point about not telling her. He turns his gaze to the ground, “He said he wouldn’t be able to make it.” 

“Oh.” Her frown fully forms and she looks away, “D-Did he say why?” 

He curses himself at lying, but he can’t back down now, “He said he wasn’t feeling like himself.”

She nods, slow and disappointed, “I see. I should probably go check on him if he’s not feeling well.” 

“No!” Ominis exclaims, making her eyes widen. “I mean, we could go to Hogsmeade together instead.” 

She cranes her head, her eyes scanning over him as her mouth parts and closes several times. 

“Ominis said I should take you.” He blurts out. “You know, as to not disappoint. He feels terrible about all of this.” 

She spares him a small smile, “Ever the gentleman. Alright, if you don’t mind, I suppose it’d be nice to get away from the castle for the afternoon.” 

He can’t stop his grin from forming and he holds out his arm for her, “Shall we?” 

She raises a brow at him and he realizes all too late how odd this gesture is for ‘Sebastian’ to be making. He quickly lowers his arm and takes the lead with a hurried gait. She doesn’t follow immediately and it takes her a few long strides to catch back up. He opens the door and he’s taken back by the sight which greets him.

The lawn is a vivid pigment in contrast to the stone which cuts through it. The grass is lush and inviting. He kneels down and rests his hand on it. The grass ripples from the wind and he’s beguiled by how peaceful the motion is. He’s felt it a hundred times, but to see it actually happen as it moves in waves across the field makes his smile widen. He remembers Sebastian saying that grass is normally green. He takes in the color of green and how it paints the trees as well in a different shade - a more richer, green. 

“Everything alright?” 

He whips his head over to her, who watches him with a worrying gaze. He quickly stands back up.

“Fine. I apologize - I thought I saw something.” He walks ahead and she keeps up with him. 

Ominis tries to keep himself from staring too long at the fountain as they pass. The water trickles and rings in his ears in a pleasant way, and he wouldn’t mind staring at the rippling water, but he forces himself to keep walking. They continue along the path and when they reach the bridge, he practically slams his chest against the railing to look at the river below.

The water rushes over the different colored rocks, taking various debris of leaves and twigs down stream. He follows the river until he sees the lake shimmering in the distance. He’s aware of her standing by him and her eyes are trained at where he was staring. 

“Something caught your eye again?” She wonders.

“Yes, but it was nothing.” He dismisses. 

She nods with a slight grin, “Are you sure you haven’t caught what currently plagues Ominis? You’re being quite odd today.” 

“I’m fine.” Ominis smiles at her and she nods, but the way her gaze seems to be piercing right through him makes him feel exposed. 

Despite doing his best to keep his eyes straight ahead instead of looking around, he can’t help himself. He can’t believe how beautiful the world is. He looks above them at the tree limbs overhanging the path. The sunlight filters through the canopy and he’s in awe at how such a simple thing could be so magnificent. He could actually see the rays of sunlight - he even reaches out to grab it. Little flying creatures flutter past them towards the bright flowers growing beside the path and he can’t quell his smile as he watches. The sound of the trumpet flowers makes him pause. While the flowers themselves were dazzling, their obnoxious noise masks any notes of admiration within him. 

“You’re quiet today.” She says, bringing his attention to her. The sun illuminates her skin and hair, making her glow. He’s taken back by how captivating she is. His heart picks back up again and his stomach flutters and twists. He likes watching how her voice and lips work in tandem to speak. Then he realizes she’s said something else.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He mumbles. 

She stops walking, making him do the same, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 

“Yes. I’m fine, I assure you.” 

She opens her mouth, but promptly shuts it. She scans over him again then resumes walking. There’s an emotion written upon her face, but he’s not sure what it is. He’s finding great difficulty in discerning anything she says, too. A task he had no trouble with before, but now his mind can’t piece together her face with what’s being said.

The path winds up the hill and as they reach the top, his breath escapes him at the sight of Hogwarts in the distance. He all but sprints towards the overlook and he lets out a slight laugh at the castle. It was grand. Truly, and utterly, grand. The lake surrounds the school - which seemingly emerged with the jagged rocks which encompasses it. The towering trees seem almost insignificant compared to the striking, massive castle. 

“Quite a sight.” She says with a sigh while she joins him at the railing. “It never fails to give me goosebumps.” 

A flock of birds fly in front of Hogwarts and Ominis nods, “Magnificent.” 

She watches him and her lips try tugging into a smile, but she refuses to let it form. She pats the railing then turns towards the path.

“Come along. We’re nearly there.” 

Ominis takes in Hogwarts for a moment longer before following after her. 

He’s looking up at a tree with leaves that were not green, but a light, almost soft color. He’s perplexed by the idea of trees being more than just green when his eyes widen at the entrance to the town. Hogsmeade is bustling with students and patrons alike - some rushing to get to where they need to be while others stroll about with not a care in the world.

She turns to him with a slight grin, “How about checking out Gladrags first? I’m in need of a new pair of gloves.” 

He nods, his eyes darting everywhere. So much is happening, it’s enough to spin his head. Hogsmeade has always been a bit overwhelming to his senses - so many smells, sounds, and people. It makes it hard for him to know what’s happening, or where he was at times. Now, he sees the chaos before him is just as he imagined. Cauldrons bubble over crackling fires, lively music plays in the distance, several conversations all happening at once - it makes him grin with how mad this whole place is.

A hand takes his and he doesn’t think twice about grasping it back, letting it tug him along as he looks around. His mind catches up to him after a few steps and he looks down to find her leading him. He’s about to take his hand back and come up with some excuse to his bewilderment, but she glances towards him with a soft smile. This smile is far different from the others she’s had. It reaches all the way to her eyes. For some reason, it makes his chest warm and his breathing choppy - he can’t possibly remove his hand now. Not if it means extinguishing this feeling.

Her pace is far easier than it was on the way here. It gives him plenty of time to take in the sights of the different shops as they pass by. He recognizes the scents of some, like Honeydukes and The Three Broomsticks, and others surprise him by their appearance, like Spintwitches. Birds fly overhead - which he figures out are owls due to the parcels they carry - and watering cans zip past to the different rows of blooming flowers. He notices the hanging lights overhead and he wonders what nighttime must look like. 

Honeydukes’ display of assorted, bright candy is what brings him to a full stop. The candy is vibrant and comes in so many designs and shapes. 

“Do you want to go inside?” She questions.

He slowly nods and she giggles - leading him into the candy shop. 

He can’t contain his smile at the vast array of colors before him. There’s more than he could ever imagine and he feels somewhat annoyed by how little everyone has told him - giving him only basic colors and denying him the plethora of shades they come in. It makes what he saw at Hogwarts seem almost muted in tone by comparison. 

They browse the vast selection of succulent candies, chocolates, and cakes until he finds his favorite - Peppermint Toad. He picks up the box with a grin. He’s always enjoyed the sharp mint taste and how the toad hops around in his stomach after. He finds the whole experience amusing - much to Anne and Sebastian’s confusion. 

“Is there anything you would like?” He asks, glancing towards her. 

She laughs, “You want to get me something?” 

He nods, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” 

She bites her lip with a slight shake of her head, “I wouldn’t mind a Chocolate Frog then. Since you’re offering.” 

He pays for their sweets and they head back out - making their way towards Gladrags. He stares at the toad-shaped treat, noting how the pattern swirls with two different colors which possess a slight shine, before he pops it into his mouth. He frowns for a moment at the peppermint taste not being nearly as predominant as he remembers. While the toad hops in his stomach, she’s already eaten her chocolate and is examining her card.

“Merlin’s Beard. I got Almeric Sawbridge. Again.” She huffs.

He laughs at her sour expression. Her frown melts away into a warm grin and she looks away.

“I didn’t know you liked Peppermint Toads.” She comments. “Thought only Ominis did.” 

Ominis curses himself for not thinking about such an oversight.

“I… normally don’t. I only wanted to see why Ominis enjoys them so.” He says.

“And?” She smiles. “What’s your verdict?” 

“They’re adequate.”

She giggles with a slight shake of her head.

They arrive at Gladrags and the smell of pigment and fabric greet them as they walk in. She wanders over to a dress on display. She skims over the fabric with a slight smile then looks over to him.

“What do you think of this orange?” She wonders. 

The dark, rich color is almost regal in appearance. He touches the dress, following the seam down the bodice and enjoying the stiff material. 

“It looks beautiful.” He says. 

Her eyes are aflame and a wide smile comes over her. She bites her lip then turns away towards the scarves. She looks over them until she finds one. She holds it out to inspect it before turning back to him.

“Do you think Ominis would like this?” She asks. 

The monotonous tone of the scarf doesn’t evoke anything in him until he feels the article of clothing. It’s soft and brings a smile to his face. 

“I like it.” He comments then shakes his head. “So, I’m sure Ominis would as well.” 

She laughs, wrapping the scarf around his neck, “I’m glad you think so. Mind holding on to it for me then?” 

“I-, of course.” He can feel his cheeks heating up as she smooths down the scarf on his chest. When her eyes meet his, a gasp escapes him. He feels encapsulated in a warmth he’s never experienced before. All from one single look. He’s slightly thankful he can’t see her all the time for he’s sure he would never be able to speak a coherent sentence to her otherwise. 

 She pays for the scarf then grabs his hand again, leading him outside. She turns to him with a grin. 

“What would you like to do today?”

The question takes him by surprise and he can’t form a single thought to reply back to her. 

“Well, if you have nothing in mind, then I may have something we can do.” 

He smiles, “Lead the way.” 

She squeezes his hand and his heart soars at the twinkle in her eyes. She’s up to something, but he can’t find it in himself to care. She leads him through Hogsmeade until they’re at the park. He’s heard the dragon’s rumbles from the topiary before, but he finds great amusement in seeing it. It’s far more animated than he imagined. And the dragon itself, while somewhat cute, gives him a slight shiver at how powerful of a beast they are. The colorful, flowered trees rain down their petals and he reaches out to grab one, but it slips right through his fingers. She takes them to the overlook and he can see the train station below them. Over in the distance, Hogwarts stands noblely. 

“Well,” he faces her, “what did you have in mind?” 

She has a sly smile as she gazes out over the scenery before them. The wind ruffles through her hair and he’s momentarily dizzy due to his lack of breathing. He needs to cease his staring, lest he die from self-induced asphyxiation, yet he's drawn to her and he’s unable to break away.

“It’s a fine day for some sightseeing.” She reaches into her robes and pulls out a worn, leather duffle bag. She glances around to ensure they’re still alone before she opens the bag. 

A whooshing noise, followed by a light, emits from the bag. Before his eyes, a giant beast emerges, followed by another similar beast with different colorings. The creatures chirp and scratch their sharp claws on the stone ground. His eyes widen and he’s quick to step away from them and be closer to her.

“Hippogriffs.” She states. 

“What do we need them for?” He questions - not bothering to mask his apprehension. 

She grins as she goes to one of the Hippogriffs that’s similar in coloring as the scarf she gave him. 

“This is Highwing. She’s quite spectacular, isn’t she?” She holds out her hand and Highwing bumps her beak against her palm. “And the other one is her mate. Dashmane.” 

“Dashmane?” 

She giggles, “Yes, because he’s so dashing.” 

The darker shade of the beast’s plumage shimmers in the sunlight. Ominis appreciates how stunning both of the creatures are. 

“First things first, you must introduce yourself to him - by giving a low bow.” She informs him.

Ominis glances between her and Dashmane before he does as she instructed. He bows, his back low and his head even lower. His eyes dart up to the creature as Dashmane bows back to him. 

“Excellent.” She grins as she goes to Highwing’s side then mounts the awaiting beast. She looks over to him expectantly. 

“But, I-I don’t know how to fly.” He protests. 

“You’ll be fine O-,” She pauses with a slight cough, “Sebastian. You’ll pick it right up.”

He gulps as he follows her movements and manages to jump then swing his leg over Dashmane. Ominis situates himself on the beast’s back. He looks over to her and she has a pleased smile. She appears relaxed - like this is natural for her to be on the back of a Hippogriff.

“Ready?” She wonders. 

He examines Dashmane, “Where do I hold on to?” 

She shrugs, “Anywhere you can.” 

He frowns, settling on grabbing a hold of a few tufts of feathers near the nape of Dashmane’s neck. Dashmane lets out a startled squawk, rearing up and nearly sending Ominis sliding off. Dashmane gallops forward and his wings unfurl as he vaults over the stone banister. With a few mighty flaps of his wings, Dashmane is soaring over the train tracks and towards the train station. Ominis’ heart is pounding in his chest and his eyes are blurring through the tears streaming past his temple. He feels like he’s close to falling off Dashmane’s back at any moment - or at the slightest movement.

A screech gets his attention as she flies in front of him. She looks over at Ominis with a wide smile. She’s truly a natural flier with how at ease she appears to be. Her and Highwing take the lead. Dashmane lets out a chirp of his own as he tries to catch up. Bystanders below, waiting for the Hogwarts Express, all stare up as they pass overhead. She curves off to the left towards a waterfall before banking back towards the arched bridge, diving below. Ominis clutches onto Dashmane as he follows, his stomach flipping and his breathing erratic. 

She turns Highwing away from the lake and over the tree line - following the lake’s shore. She spares him glances to ensure he’s still following as she takes them over the treetops. The tips shudder and move as they fly by they’re so close. She dives below the trees, with Dashmane doing the same, and they zip along the path until she takes them high above once more. His head turns every which way as he takes in the sight of the valley from above. The rivers cut through the growth of trees similar to the veins on his hands. He spots clusters of homes tucked away in the forest. 

They head towards an old castle or keep of some kind, with a blooming tree of the same vibrant, soft color from Hogsmeade, where they fly over as they turn back towards Hogwarts. He stares at the ruined estate in wonder at what it could’ve been. He turns his attention back to her and he adjusts himself on Dashmane. He lowers himself and, as if reading his thoughts, Dashmane flaps his wings harder than before.

Dashmane finally catches up to her and Highwing. She looks over to them and she laughs.

“You’re getting the hang of it!” She shouts. “Now, try to keep up!” 

Ominis’ eyes widen as she careens towards the river below. He tightens his grip then does the same. They soar across a river until they’re back over the Black Lake. He can’t stop his heart from beating wildly, but he’s finding the rush to be too thrilling to suppress. He leans himself over enough to catch his rippled reflection in the lake. He frowns at Sebastian being the face looking back at him. He focuses back on their flight.

She’s taking them towards Hogwarts, flying higher and higher as they near. Ominis can place what some of these areas are - like the boathouse where he arrived his very first year. Feels like only yesterday when he made the climb up all those steps and entered the Great Hall for the first time.

She takes them over the ramp and heads straight for the courtyard leading to the Great Hall. Ominis can make out the students below with some of them pointing up at them as they near. Highwing angles upwards before taking a dive right past the courtyard. Ominis’ eyes widen as Dashmane follows the route and dives after them. His heart is in his throat and his stomach drops. They’re heading right into a stone bridge and his whole body tenses up. Dashmane closes up his wings and zips through the archway. 

Ominis lets out a breath as Dashmane follows along the river, keeping his wingspan small enough to navigate the narrow crevice. Highwing zips through then banks sharply to the left at the divide. He emerges from the river just as she turns back towards a waterfall underneath the castle. As they turn out to trail along the embankment of the lake, she leads them towards another cascading river towards the old wooden long bridge. 

She flies them underneath and leads them up the waterfall, flying higher and higher over a stone bridge, until she turns to the left towards a plateau. She lands at a clearing with various rocks set up in a large circle around the area. He manages to bring Dashmane into a gentle landing, prancing up to be next to Highwing. 

“See. I knew you could fly.” She grins at him, her hair windblown and her face radiating. 

“I think you were trying to get us killed.” He retorts with a smile. 

She laughs, dismounting from Highwing then him dismounting as well. She brings out the strange leather bag again and opens it. The bag sucks both Highwing and Dashmane inside. She puts the bag away then motions with her head towards the edge of the plateau. She takes a seat on the rock, her legs draping over the edge. He sits next to her and he takes in the sight before them. 

The sun is beginning to set behind them, casting a pale, but brilliant, glow upon Hogwarts. Birds fly around a tower, which he realizes is the Owlery. 

“I’m glad we got here in time.” She whispers, her eyes set towards the sunset. “I wanted your first sunset to be special.” 

“It already is-,” the words die in his mouth as he pieces together what she just said. 

“I-I mean-, what do you mean my first sunset?” He tries to play off. 

Her eyes roll over to him with an amused grin playing on her lips.

“Do not play coy with me now, Ominis. I know it’s you.” 

His eyes widen and he can feel a burning heat overtake his face. She giggles, placing a warm hand on his.

“While I was irritated you did not tell me of your ploy at first, I figured you must have your reasons to keep me in the dark on this.” 

His head falls with a sigh, “No. Not a good reason by any sort of means.” 

She laughs again, “I assume Sebastian must be involved.” 

“This was his idea, if that’s what you’re implying.” He looks over to her, “When did you figure it out?” 

She hums, “I had a feeling something was wrong when you looked at the grass like you’ve never seen it before. Then again, when we got to Hogsmeade, you were completely taken away. And Sebastian most certainly doesn’t look at me the way you did today. But, what finally confirmed my suspicions, was when I asked what you thought of that orange dress. Which was very clearly purple, by the by.” 

He closes his eyes with a soft groan, “You are far too clever of a witch at times.” He looks over to her with raised brows. “Does that mean that harrowing flight was to get back at me?” 

She bites her bottom lip, “A bit. But, to also show you as much as possible before that Polyjuice Potion wears off.” She sighs, “I wish you would’ve told me. I could’ve made today special for you.” 

“It has been special.” He takes her hand in his with a smile. 

The look upon her face sends him spiraling once more. He’s not sure what it is, but he knows how it makes him feel. She’s the first to look away and she’s back to gazing at the sunset.

“You don’t want to miss this.” She says in a quiet voice. 

He looks off towards where the sun is setting behind the rolling mountains. The hills in the distance are draped in a fog and the colors begin to bloom across the landscape. 

“What colors are these?” He wonders. 

“Well, do you see there?” She points towards a large patch of a bright pigment which echoes across the sky. “That’s actually orange.” 

“Orange.” He laughs. “I see my mistake now.” 

She smiles as she points to another section of a softer color similar to some of the vibrant trees he saw, “That there, is pink.” 

His lips stretch into a smile, “Pink. I think I do like pink.” 

“And over there,” she points toward a darker color, far richer than the rest, “is purple. And there, where the sun is, is yellow, or actually, more accurately, gold.” 

He sucks in a deep breath, taking in this new knowledge. He wants to engrain this picture before him into his mind. The clouds hold a vast array of pigments like a field of flowers. And he can see so far - miles upon miles with no end in sight. It all evokes a well of emotion within him. And when he looks down at her, the sunset reflecting upon her soft features and in her eyes, he all but breaks. 

“I wish I could see this everyday.” His voice wavers. 

She looks over to him - her lips parted in concern and her smile fading. She wants to say something, the anguish is clear. His hand cups her cheek and her eyes close at the contact. 

“I don’t mean to cause you distress, love. I only mean to say - I envy Sebastian, and everyone else, that’s able to gaze upon you. I would love to do nothing more than to sing you ballads about your beauty.” He strokes her cheek, her eyes remaining close as she places her hand over his to press him closer to her face. 

“You don’t need to serenade me, Ominis.”

“I know.” He smiles. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to.” 

His other hand joins in and he feels over her face - an action he has done several times. But, to see what he’s felt, elates him. It’s almost terrifying how strong the notion is. Her eyes remain close as he traces over her cheeks and down her nose then all the way to her jawline and lips. 

“I hope I’m what you were expecting.” She whispers, her brows knitting together as she slowly opens her eyes.

He smiles as he tucks away the wild hairs framing her face, “More than I could’ve ever imagined.”

The light begins to fade away and they’re soon swathed in a darkness he’s all too familiar with. He’s amazed he’s still able to somewhat see. Hogwarts illuminates in a soft glow and a sense of coziness strikes him. She leans closer to him, resting her hand on his chest.

“Lay with me.” She whispers while she pushes him back towards the ground. 

He lets her push him, falling back onto the cold stone beneath them. He watches her as she tucks herself next to him and she faces up towards the sky. Her eyes shift towards him and she laughs.

“Look up.”

She stares at him as he obeys her command. The sky is no longer a bright blue, but a darker, far richer shade. But what catches his eyes are the shimmering dots which twinkle in various prismatic colors. A gasp leaves him and she giggles.

“Those are the stars. And over there is the moon.” She points in front of them and he follows her finger towards the most breathtaking thing. The moon, once described to him as silver, seems almost unreal as it hovers in the night sky. Its light is cold compared to the sun and he finds himself in awe at its majesty.

“It’s all so beautiful.” He whispers while he hugs her closer to him.

Something shifts within him. He lets out a gasp then looks at his hand. His fingers and knuckles are shifting before his very eyes. 

“No. No, not yet.” He curses. 

She’s about to question what’s wrong when her eyes widen, “Ominis. Your hair. It’s… the potion.” 

He sits up - her doing the same- and he looks around. He doesn’t want this to end, but already the darkness is beginning to cloud his vision. He looks to her, pulling her close to him. He cups both sides of her cheeks and she holds him closer. 

She smiles as she says, “I love you, Ominis.” 

Seeing her lips move, the genuineness in her expression, and the softness in her gaze sends him careening. He stares at her, taking in every little piece of her, while the darkness consumes more and more. 

Then, she’s gone. 

He lets out a shaky breath and a coldness seeps into him. He’s still - unable to move. 

When she presses her forehead to his, he can no longer contain himself. Tears stream down his cheeks and she’s quick to embrace him, holding his head into the crook of her neck as he sobs. She strokes down his back while her other hand soothes his hair. There’s a whirlwind of emotion raging through him and he doesn’t know how to calm himself down. He’s thankful she’s not chastising him for acting this way - so pathetic and broken. Her gentle movements ground him from fully sinking into the numbing coldness which threatens to drag him deeper into an endless abyss. 

She whispers soft words, but he’s so lost he doesn’t understand what she’s saying. All he can notice is how warm she is and how tightly she holds him. Never once letting him go.

The chaos slowly quells and he’s exhausted himself. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse and quiet. “I-I should have better control over myself. I-I didn’t anticipate how-, how much I-,” 

“It’s okay, Ominis.” She kisses his temple. “It’s okay.” 

She kisses his tear-stained cheek then the corner of his lips. He’s practically ravenous as he hooks his fingers into her hair to guide her into a searing kiss. A whimper escapes him at the rawness of her lips against his. When she parts, he opens his eyes in hopes he would catch just a faint glimpse of her. 

But no… all he has left is the memory of today. The vibrancy of the world and the breathtaking beauty she possesses. 

He sighs, “There’s a part of me that wishes I could do this everyday.” He pauses, brushing the tip of his nose against hers and tangling his fingers further into her hair. “But, another part is glad to be back in my own skin.”

She lets out a soft hum of agreement, “I very much like you being back. It was quite odd having to hold Sebastian’s hand today.” 

He laughs, “I can imagine.” 

“I do love you, Ominis. All parts of you.” She says. 

His throat tightens, but he’s done shedding tears. He brings her into a much softer kiss this time then he whispers, “I love you, too.” 

The words feel lacking. They aren’t enough to convey the strong feelings he has for her. But, how else could he describe the way she makes him feel. How else could he even come close to explaining that she is so very precious and dear to him. So, he settles with what he can for now.

“We should head back. We’ll have to sneak into the kitchens if we’re to get any sort of dinner tonight.” 

“We should get Sebastian as well. I’m sure he’s dying to leave the confines of the Undercroft by now. Although, maybe it’s good for him to be locked away for a while.” Ominis muses with a slight smirk.

She giggles, “Certainly keeps him out of trouble.” 

They head back to the castle with her practically glued to his side as she explains all the questions he has about the things he saw today. His fingers occasionally twisting the soft fabric of the scarf draped across his neck. He smiles as he knows exactly what color it is.

==================================

It’s not until the next day when the rumors around the school finally reach Sebastian that he corners Ominis just before Charms class. 

“What’s this about ‘me’ flying a bloody Hippogriff over the school yesterday?” 

Ominis can only smirk in response. 

----------------------------------------

AN: Bruh i just can't help myself but add some flying INTO EVERYTHING!! I HAVE A PROBLEM! Like, when I saw the scene of Dany and Jon in GoT doing their dragon flight when i was searching for music, i just knew i had to do it here. LOL i even went flying around the world in game trying to find the best route as well.

You can find the plateau where this takes place below by the Merlin Trail:

and here's my horrible, low quality, sunset pic via the pic i took of my tv from my phone lollll.

Anyways, I really wanted to capture the thought of Ominis not having a clue what the heck colors are and most def not being able to understand certain more obscure facial expressions (like suspicion). And I really liked the idea of leaving the Fifth Year in the dark about the Polyjuice Potion... idk why. i just thought it was fun LOL.

Hopefully it wasn't too weird about her holding his hand as 'Sebastian' but I was going for the 'yeah she's figured out it's ominis' type vibe. idk hopefully that's conveyed

Thanks again for reading! Feedback always appreciated <3

[on-leatheredwings]

any hc for male reader x yandere batfam?? any of them will work. also the batboy didn't know he was bi at first (unless you're doing Tim). and the reader is dealing with internalized homophobia?

somethin short n sweet :]

Soft! Older! Yandere! Damian Wayne / Male Reader

> romantic > tw/cw: internalized homophobia, references to violent homophobia > word count: 723 > a/n: just something short and sweet... > male reader can be cis or trans

"Study with me," is what Damian Wayne says, before placing a pile of books on your already-crowded table.

His clean cut appearance contrasts with the hipster, rustic interior of your favorite cafe. It’s not really his scene, as far as you’re aware. Both the decor and the abundant crowd. 

You lean back in your chair, narrowing your eyes. "Wayne.” You have to try not to sneer.

You are acquainted with him, after all. His marks are always top of the class, and yours are always seconding. You’re at Gotham U entirely on scholarship, just having transferred from community college. You’re first in your family to go to college, period, and they were risking everything for you to be here. You had to be top of your class if you wanted to pursue your post-grad plans. 

Always being second to this nepo-baby billionaire is a bitter knock to your self-esteem. You wince, feeling sharp pain on your ribcage. One you don’t need with all the other bitter knocks your classmates already give you.

You stare up at the man, wishing he hadn’t caught you in your seat. You blink, realizing that he isn't moving. "Wait, what did you say?" you ask.

“... I said, 'study with me.'" He elegantly lands in the seat across from you at the all-too-small table. "I’ll be sitting here.”

You gape at him.

“But– y-you don’t even like me…?” Damian had never spared you the time of day until … this day. You assumed you were a gnat to him at best. Just some brokie who managed to sneak his way into his school.

How utterly wrong you were.

Damian Wayne hadn’t expected to end up with anyone other than a woman, he supposed. It had been assumed of him during his childhood and he hadn’t questioned it. From a young age he had been aware of homosexuality, and that men could be attractive, but he hadn’t considered it for himself in any serious capacity. 

Even Timothy coming out didn’t spur any curiosity from him. Despite his siblings teasing, his closeness to Jon was entirely platonic. So Damian just assumed, like the majority of the world, he was heterosexual. Until you had transferred into one of his classes and stole his breath away.

Damian’s eyes narrow and, if you can believe it, glimmer with interest. “I don’t recall ever saying that. For all you know, I could be quite fond of you.” His eyes lower to where your lips lie. “... Or at the very least, interested.”

You cheeks heat rise to your cheeks, before you flinch. There's no way. He didn’t mean it like that. Yet despite discerning his expression… Oh fuck, maybe he meant it like that? You panic, head snapping away from his. No– no. You are not going to be weird about this. You could have a friend here. 

The last time you misinterpreted friendliness from your peers as romantic advances... Those bruises are still healing, still aching when you stretch and bend. Your stomach roils with hurt, fear, and betrayal – no. You weren’t going to repeat the same mistake this time. You’ve been ostracized from most of your peers by now. ‘Pervert’ and ‘predator’ they named you. But maybe… you could have a friend here.

In your silence, Damian finds tendrils of curiosity churning in his stomach. He wants desperately to talk to you. To hear you speak. To listen to you talk at length about the lectures he finds so droll, but you find rapturing. Test scores meant nothing. He may be better at memorizing the text, but he’s read your essays. He clears his throat, lifting his chin on instinct to feign confidence.

You look up at him shyly, before realizing you’ve been mulling in silence like a freak for the past few minutes. Damian doesn’t mind, having been able to openly admire you.

You cough, trying to ease the confusion thrumming in your veins. “... Well, fine. I could use a sounding board.”

“Shall we start with the next test review?” Damian offers, flipping open a book.

You perk up, having been about to suggest lighter reading rather than the dense, metaphysical chapters your professor recommended. You nod fervently, lips curling to Damian’s delight.

“Yes, please,” you say, metaphorical tag wagging.

New friend, new friend, you inwardly cheer. 

Damian’s thoughts run considerably more romantic.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 2

It started on a Friday, Danny finished adjusting his uniform as he peered into the mirror in the bathroom his family shared.  Mr. Wayne had been very generous to offer Danny a scholarship to Gotham Academy. He was determined to do his best but, part of him wondered if he was only offered it so Damian would have a friend that attended the same school as him.

 Putting the finishing touches on his uniform and trying to calm down his unruly hair, Danny walked out of the bathroom to hear chatter coming from the kitchen. This caused him to hesitate, Jazz and he decided not to ask Damian or Tim over yet. The state of the house was a bit messy considering it was left to two teenagers to pick up after the four of them. They just didn’t have the time, the both of them were focusing on their own fields of study and avoiding their parents by spending time at Wayne manor. 

So the fact that there was chatter meant one thing, his parents were up from the basement. He didn’t dislike interacting with them but… somehow every conversation with them ended up with an hour-long lecture about how dangerous ghosts were and how Danny and Jazz were to call them immediately if they ever spotted one, as if they’d actually pick up the phone. Danny was starting to believe that ghosts didn’t exist at all. 

He took a deep breath after grabbing his messenger bag from his room and entered the kitchen.

Just as he thought his parents were up from the lab and astonishingly they sat at the table. They were eating breakfast together with Jazz almost like they were a normal family. The sight unnerved Danny but he took his spot at the table, pouring himself a bowl of cereal as Jazz had done. Neither of them trusted anything that their parents would have cooked, most of it ended up with Danny and Jazz having stained or torn uniforms. 

They hated asking Mr. Wayne for anything, and even though he left a credit card for either Danny or Jazz to use, neither of them did. Jazz managed their finances, Mom was too busy to cook or go to the store most times so Jazz handled it and Danny made sure at least the bathroom and kitchen were cleaned up enough. It probably shouldn’t have worked, especially leaving two teenagers to look after the finances, but it did.

“Danno, my boy!!” The loud boisterous voice of his Dad startled him out of that train of thought, “we’ve got a surprise for the two of you!”

Jazz and Danny shared a look, nothing good ever came from one of their parents ‘surprises’.

“Your Father and I completed our-“ before Mom could finish, Dad interrupted loudly.

“THE PORTAL!!” he smiled like he was a toddler in a candy store for the first time.

Jazz and Danny shared a look again, sure they were happy for their parents, but they were also worried about the possible hazards.

Their Mom cleared her throat before continuing, “I get you kids have school, just hurry straight home when you’re off! We’ll turn it on when you’re both home.” She finished her explanation with a big smile.

Danny could hardly believe it, they had been working on it for years. He was a little scared what exactly it meant if it worked but that didn’t matter at the moment. He continued eating and Jazz spoke up, “t-that’s great Mom, Dad,” she spared a glance at Danny but continued when he didn’t speak up but ate another mouthful of cereal, “Uh, well, our ride should be here soon, I’ll meet you outside little brother.” She quickly put her dishes in the dishwasher and headed outside after grabbing her coat and backpack. 

Danny quickly followed after their parents went downstairs probably to tinker with another project after the portal.

Jazz was waiting on the porch after putting on her coat, they both knew how prompt Mr. Pennyworth was and that it wouldn’t take long for him to arrive. It didn’t take long for them to pile in after he arrived. The trip to the school was short, Jazz and Tim were caught up in a conversion about some essay, Danny tried to pay attention to the conversion but his mind kept wandering to the portal and what it meant for his family now that it’s done. 

Damian seemed to notice his fidgeting, “Danny? What troubles you? Is it Dash again?” Damian cracked his knuckles as he seethed the bully’s name. Danny was often bullied by Dash for being in his words ‘a charity case’ since Mr. Wayne paid his tuition, and he recently started bullying Danny for what his parents did since word somehow got out after neither of his parents showed up for parent teacher conferences.

Danny shook his head, “no, sorry, I’m just a little worried about a few things going on at home,” Jazz looked up at this and the two shared a look. Neither of them discussed what they’d tell the brothers about the portal. Jazz eventually nodded subtly and Danny took that as the go ahead to continue. He nervously licked his lips before speaking again, “well… our parents finally finished the portal.”

Damian and Tim shared a look at this, “have they attempted to turn it on yet?” Damian asked after a moment.

“Uh, no actually, they wanted to wait until we got home from school,” Danny shrugged.

“Would you like Damian and I to stay out in the car and wait for it all to be over so we can go back to being normal back at the mansion.” Tim suggested with a light chuckle, none of them thought that it’d actually work.

Having an easy escape route after whatever craziness the portal was bound to cause sounded comforting. Danny nodded a little, “I’d like that, how about you Jazz?”

“Your not leaving me alone with them!” She cried and the two giggled.

Soon though they pulled up to the school and Danny sighed, he had a day to get through.