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#i finally did dani!!
caslutz · 3 months
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Ted Lasso Text Posts: Part #7
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
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nerdpoe · 2 months
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Plastic Man comes back from an adventure to find out that there's a...small problem.
There's a kid, who keeps insisting he isn't a kid, asking to be the bouncer at the joint Eel lives above. No one knows how to tell the kid no, especially because he's got a set of little twins with him.
Eel steels himself, goes out to let the kid down, and...and...
And....
Well. He already illegally adopted Pado.
What's three more?
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goodfish-bowl · 3 months
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Never Really Knew (DP x DC)
DP Side Hoes Week 2024 Master Post
Day 5: Dani - self-defense
Summary: There were plenty of things she knew, but it was all things that had been downloaded into her head. There was very few things that Dani had actually experienced in her extremely short life. Dani’s trip after being freed from Vlad goes well until it takes a turn into Gotham, New Jersey. Takes place after "Kindred Spirits", but before "D-Stabilized".  
Word Count: 2173
AO3 Link
Dani had known that traveling by herself would be dangerous. She knew it in the same way she knew advanced mathematics and classic literature. It was knowledge she had but had never experienced, programmed and downloaded into her head. She knew a lot of things this way, and very few things the other way. Dani had wanted to experience everything, to learn the way everyone else did. But she hadn’t known, not really, just how dangerous this task would be for her. She doubted Danny knew either, or he probably wouldn’t have let her go. 
Dani wasn’t having any trouble with money, so to say, Vlad’s credit card covered that, but there were very few places that would both accept credit and let a 12-year-old rent a room for the night. So while she was good on food and any other thing, shelter was a lot harder to manage. It had been fun, at first, buying a tent and camping equipment, and staying at parks while she explored the area, but yet again, a 12-year-old couldn't rent out a campground, so it was a bit riskier every night she stayed. If she stayed in the wrong place or too long, she would get chased out. She lost a few tents this way. She lost a few more to thefts that happened while she was out and about. 
The campground was fine when she was just about, but they weren’t always an option, like in the bigger cities, where she was now. Normally, Dani was able to keep her head low, and hang out on a rooftop for the night, but that wasn’t really a good option with vigilantes of Gotham frequenting those spaces too. She had to find a different place to sleep for the night, which she supposes is what got her into this whole mess too. That and not knowing, to an instinctual degree, that she should not have come to Gotham all alone. 
Dani had bunked down for the night in one of the many abandoned buildings around, even setting up her cot and some of her other camping equipment. This was not where she had woken up. 
Dani woke up with a full body ache and a piercing migraine, and immediately curled up on herself with a soft hiss. Everything hurt. Slowly, as Dani came to, her senses faded back into focus. It smelt generally terrible, like BO and urine, along with the faint tinge of mold and cigarettes. There was the sound of someone else crying near her, whimpering, and the more distant sound of laughter. She could feel the bare concrete under her as it tried to drain away what little body heat she actually produced. Her tongue tasted vile in her mouth, still full of fuzz with a metallic aftertaste in the back of her throat.
Dani was locked in a dark, generally dingy cell, with the only light coming from a yellow street light that managed to crawl in through the basement window, and a white fluorescent light that climbed under the door. There were a few other kinds locked up in here with her, in various stages of crying or passed out. Some of them were hurt, bad. Dani had been kidnapped in the worst city to be kidnapped. 
Slowly, feeling her whole body protest, Dani pushed herself to a kneeling position, drawing the other kids' eyes to her. She gave them a shaky smile that probably looked closer to a grimace. Dani felt her clothes and found that all the belongings she kept in her packets were gone. Darn, no more credit card. No more anything, really. Well, that sucked, but it wasn’t like they could keep her here for long, ghost powers and all that. Dani should get out as soon as she can, and run for the hills. She was sure whoever had captured her wouldn’t even notice one less child.
Dani strained her ears to listen to the voices from under the door, but a sniffle from one of the other kids in the room stopped her in her tracks, shutting down her plan of running out alone. Stupid Danny and his stupid protective streak. She would have to figure out how to get them all out together, and probably fast if the pick up in activity from under the door was any indication. Dani went over to the window, straining to look out of it, trying to figure out where it let out. 
“Hey,” Dani whispered. “Do any of you know where we are?”
There was a soft murmuring among the other children, before a scruffy-looking boy answered her in a thick Gotham accent. “Somewhere in Crime Alley. That window has metal bars in it, no way to get out from there.”
Dani hissed under her breath, letting go of the window sill from where she was straining to lift herself onto it. 
“Do you know where it leads?” She followed up. 
“Just some scummy alley.”
Dani nodded, that was at least something good, no one would notice if she passed some of the others through intangibly. 
“Okay, I can get us out,” Dani declared, keeping her voice intentionally low. 
“How do you plan to do that? You a meta or something?” one of the slightly older girls demanded. 
“Something like that,” Dani answered sheepishly. “Come on, I can take us directly through the wall,” Dani gestured through the window. 
The others were too scared to protest, and slowly Dani began to file them one to two at a time through the wall, into the alley above. Every trip burned through her reserves, and she hadn’t noticed just how many of them were in the cell with her. After the fourth trip, Dani felt fragile, only able to pass the boy with the thick local accent through, but not able to go through herself, she would hurt herself if she tried.
“Butter biscuits… I can’t get out, I’m out of energy,” Dani called out. She was going to have to figure a way out, no powers unless absolutely necessary, she might risk destabilization otherwise. 
The boy peered down at her from the window, looking grim. “I’ll go get help,” he stated before leaving her all alone in the room. 
Dani let herself drop to the ground as soon as he was gone. She felt so tired, vaguely ill, and tried her best not to not fall back asleep, but still get a little bit more rest before the rest of her grand escape. She spent those minutes listening to the voices as best as she could, planning. She really shouldn’t use her powers for the next bit, but Dani also really needed her stuff back. It would have to be worth the risk, it was the only way she could really afford anything. All she needed was just her wallet with the card in it. Everything else could be replaced, emergency cellphone included. She might have a window to get it when whatever help that boy had mentioned showed up. 
The voices on the other side of the door grew frantic along with an even more distant sound of gunshots and shattering glass. The door slammed open, causing Dani to fall onto her back in fright. The man’s eyes were blown wide in fear, teeth bared. His eyes narrowed as he probably noticed the lack of children in the room, and spat out a nasty curse before his eyes locked onto her. 
“Fuck it, we only need one hostage, a half-dead brat will have to do,” the man spat, practically snatching her up by the arms, causing Dani to cry out in pain. 
Dani had to scrunch up her eyes under the artificial white lights, leading into an open warehouse. She struggled for just a second before there was something cold and metal pressing against her temple. 
“Try it, brat, and your brains will be blown out all over the floor,” the man growled, and Dani froze. 
It was a gun. Dani knew it was a gun, and finally, it sunk in just how much danger she was really in, and tears began to run down her face. She didn’t want to die! She had only just begun to learn how to live in the first place. She needed more than a few months to figure herself out!  
The man didn't do anything as Dani began to cry, but one of the other roughly dressed goons in the room, holding an even bigger gun, sent the one holding her a dirty look, before a confused realization passed over him. 
“Where the other kids?” The other guy asked. 
“Hell if I know. Only one left was this shrimp who looks well and ready to keel over. She’ll fucking have to do.” 
There was another loud bang as a door somewhere in the warehouse was thrown open. 
“Red Hood! Don’t fucking try it or I off the kid!” 
Dani strained to see through her tears and hysterics. Was this guy supposed to be her help? But Dani was already held hostage, how much help could this ‘Red Hood’ be?
“You know I don’t like people fucking around with kids on my turf,” a modulated, artificial voice spat. 
“Which is why you’re going to let us go, so that this little girl’s brains don’t end up splattered all over the ground,” The guy holding the bigger gun argued back. 
There was a creak from the rafters and the other guy opened fired, sending rounds into the ceiling. A large figure dropped down, returning fire as they fell. Dani’s eyes widened at the heavily armed figure in a red helmet and leather jacket. He was both the coolest and most terrifying person Dani had ever seen. The guy with the bigger gun went down with only a few well-aimed shots. 
Red Hood towered over Dani’s current kidnapper, who pressed the gun harder into her temple, causing another wave of panic to go through her as her eyes strained to dart back and forth between the man holding her and her ‘savior’ who had just definitely killed someone. 
“There you are, you shitty bastard,” her kidnapper growled. “Now!”
Gunshots came from a completely different direction, catching Red Hood by surprise, but not before he managed to take out one of the two new assailants, and a stray bullet slammed into the arm holding the gun to Dani’s head. The man recoiled, practically tossing both her and the gun aside, forgotten. Dani ducked down, scrambling the best she could away from the center of the fight, but exhaustion and a horrible pinch in her ankle weighed down on her entire being. 
Dani looked back after hearing a few more gunshots. The guy who had been holding her was dead, but Red Hood had taken a couple of hits himself, stuck kneeling as the final kidnapper pointed his gun directly at Red Hood. He was going to be killed, and then Dani knew she would quickly follow him. Panic seized her body and core, dredging up what little energy it could. She couldn’t let Red Hood be killed, Dani didn’t want to die. 
 Dani dove for the gun that had been tossed away in her. The knowledge of how to use a gun quickly clicked into place, just like all of those other things she knew and had never experienced. Dani was keen on never feeling the chill of a live firearm in her hands again, nor the image of the man dropping dead from a clean shot as she fired. 
The gun clattered to the ground and Dani was well aware that Red Hood was full-on staring at her beneath his helmet. 
“Kid-” the modulated voice called out, but Dani yanked on her invisibility, pulling as hard as she could, running off. 
Dani had killed someone, sending full-on shivers and nausea through her, compounded by the protests of her fragile anatomy as she tried to maintain invisibility. She quickly found her things, which had been haphazardly tossed into a corner, snatching the wallet and nothing else. It felt like she was falling apart. 
Dani made it to the exit before Red Hood spotted her again. 
“Wait!” He called out, sounding panicked. 
Dani couldn’t help the reflexive glance back, likely showcasing the bright glow of her eyes, and the thick trickle of ectoplasm as it seeped out of her nose before she fled into the night. There was cursing and heavy steps behind her, so Dani did the only thing she could and transformed as soon as she was out of direct eyesight, doing her best to ignore the familiar sensation of destabilization as it began to set in. She even ignored the swear-storm of the vigilante she left behind in the alley. Dani was going back to Amity Park as soon as she could, but she now knew, deep in her gut and in the sour taste of ectoplasm in the back of her throat, just how dangerous it could be on her own.
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mae-dwrites · 3 months
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“You remind me of someone.” her voice was contemplative.
“I do?” she could hear him quirk his eyebrow.
“Yeah.” her voice was unusually quiet.
“Is that good or bad?” he gave a nervous laugh and leaned back watching her.
Dani sighed looking down at the city below them. She didn't quite know. She’d found him but he didn't recognize her.
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rynnthefangirl · 17 days
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I love how Fire and Blood shows time and time again how Targaryen women are passed over, usurped, abused, killed, raped, and slandered, all building to Daenerys, a Targaryen woman who rises to great power while seeking justice and salvation for all those crushed beneath the oppressive systems of her world... just to be usurped and killed so that we can place a man on the throne again.
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boasamishipper · 1 year
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i can tolerate a lot of things from writers and showrunners but outright condescension and disdain for their fans is not one of them
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danieyells · 8 months
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I find it funny that the PC allegedly knows which pocket Bailey keeps their weapons in. Like how many times have you seen Bailey pull a gun on somebody and just repressed it tbh?
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padfootastic · 1 year
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“are you frustrated with me?” “never.” with prongsfoot please and thank you <3
hello! thank u for the ask (and waiting) <33 i hope u like this, because i’m so so happy with how this turned out 🙈
x
James finds him on the top of the Astronomy Tower, sitting atop the parapet in a way that makes his heart skip a beat even now, despite the fact that he should’ve gotten used to it. There’s a half gone cigarette in his hand and the ashes of several more all around him. Sirius’ lips are dry and cracked, his eyes drooping. James immediately casts his usual set of safety charms. As expected, that grabs Sirius’ attention.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving your skull from being turned into a pancake for the Hippogriffs.”
“Did I ask you to do that?” Sirius’ voice is sharp, a knife’s edge of bitterness and malice. (Though perhaps only James can sense the hollowness in it, see the performance he’s putting on)
“No, but I’ve done it anyway. Bully for you, Pads,” James shrugs, tucking his wand back into its holster. His posture is loose, unconcerned and he knows his nonchalance is only feeding into Sirius’ aggression. At least for now, when he needs to be angry to feel anything, needs that fire to remind him he’s still alive.
“Why are you here, anyway?” Sirius asks, turning his face away to exhale a puff of smoke. It makes James smile, though he hides it with a quick swipe of his palm, because even in this moment, with all the violence in the world itching to bubble out, Sirius still refuses to smoke around him, knowing his distaste for it.
“Just wanted to check up on you. See what you were doing.” James moves forward, until he’s almost within touching distance. It’s what allows him to see the twisting of Sirius’ features—a haunting sort of pain and agony painting a terrible picture with his beautiful features.
“I’ll do what I want, James,” Sirius sneers, face still turned away as if he can’t bear to look him in the eye while doing it, “and you can’t stop me.”
“Do you see me trying?” James asks, simply. That takes the wind right out of Sirius’ sails. James is used to this routine by now—having to prick the balloons of self righteous indignation and testiness and defensive anger that Sirius has around him in times like this. The trick, he’s learned, is to not take anything personally. Sirius has the ability to verbally destroy a person, leave his remains charred and smoking without looking back at the consequences of his actions. It helps him cope, expelling the ugliness that routinely builds inside him by directing out outwards. Sometimes, it’s some poor sod who didn’t sign up for being target practice being caught in the middle of it. More often than not, it’s James, though by his own volition.
Sirius tries, has been doing so since the moment they met, to protect him from this side of him—to shield him from the rough edges his family carved into him. It’s just his luck that James refuses to play along.
It’s that knowledge that pierces Sirius’ haze right now, as he knew it would, as it always does. Slowly, the anger melts into something softer, more contrite. The cigarette gets stubbed under his foot as he turns fully toward James, eyes downcast.
“Are you frustrated with me?” he asks in a whisper. James smiles at the action, the direct contrast from all his bluster mere minutes ago.
“Never.” He holds one hand out, facing up. It only takes a second before Sirius places his own in it, palm cold and desperately tight. James only pulls him tight, pressing a firm kiss to his temple, letting his actions speak louder than his words ever could.
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safyresky · 5 months
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It's December 13th, you know what that means!
The Twelve Years of Frostmas is now LIVE on ao3!
Haha, got you, didn't I! I bet you were all thinking "Ah yes, weekly CS update, ahh shit, here we go again!" And then I FOOLED YOU! HAHA! Check it out HERE on ao3 :)
And for those who don't know, take a summary!
The Twelve Years of Frostmas
Nobody but he and I knew the truth. Jack wasn't supposed to be Santa; I wasn't supposed to be Jack Frost. He thought being Santa would fix everything. He was horribly, horribly mistaken. [My take on Jack's reign as Santa during the Escape Clause. MAJOR OC involvement AND First Person POV from said OC. Finally cross posting THIS behemoth! Enjoy!]
IT'S FROSTMAS BAYBEE!
See, there were 2 (two) thoughts I had that led to the creation of Jacqueline:
If Jack thawed and pulled a Zuko, and couldn't use his powers and didn't know why, who would help him figure it out? And
Who was Jack Frost when Jack was Santa? Surely he couldn't do both, right?
And boom! In walks Jacqueline like:
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And lo, Frostmas (as a concept) was born; and finally written when CS was originally near completion. Feels appropriate to start crossposting this one now that the climax of CS has resolved!
So here, take Jacqueline's humble Prologue to the Twelve Years of Frostmas.
Prologue
Jacqueline settles in to tell us the story of a fucked up little timeline she calls "Frostmas".
FINALLY on ao3 HERE :)
And of course, as always, it lives on ff.net all the way up to Year Ten. You can start it from the top on ff dot net HERE, but I'd wait a haute minute if you're checking it out there, as I will not be updating the prologue to match until I download a copy of Frostmas for posterity sake (which will be probably much later today) :)
And with that, enjoy! I'll be back closer to the end of the week (or early next week) with Chapter 28 of Crystal Springs :)
JKS JKS JKS I'M NOT DONE YET! TAKE A SNIPPET:
“Jacqueline, I’m—" Pressing my hands against my cheeks and calling up some frost, I turned back to Jack. “I know.” Cheeks sufficiently cool, I gave him my most reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” “It’s really not. Everything I did then, I—” “I know. It wasn’t okay. But you’re okay now. And I’m okay, too!” “You literally just came in here to say you weren’t okay.” “But I will be! Remember? I had a thing in mind?” “Yes! Of course!” Jack sat back up in his seat, almost but not quite as lively as usual. “Your thing that brought you into my humble adobe. What were you—what did you have in mind?” “I was thinking of writing it out.” “Writing it out?” “Yep.” “All of it?” “Yep!” “That’s a lot of paper.” “Or a really long role of parchment. I’ll have to see what we have floating around. But um, I was thinking that writing it all down would help get it out of my head, y’know? Like making a list? I’ve always found it therapeutic, writing stuff out. Easier to make sense of the more nonsensical things in life. I just…” I frowned, rubbing the back of my neck. “I didn’t wanna do it without checking in with you first.” “Whatever for?” I held my breath for a moment. “When I say all of it I mean all of it. Including your side of things. And I wanted to make sure it was okay with you first! I know it’s my story. But you played a huge part in it too. And I know you feel a lot of remorse for it all…and I know I haven’t been great about broaching it. I can only begin to imagine how you feel.” I paused for a moment, tilting my head and thinking of how to say what I wanted to say next. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with writing it all down with me. I can’t do it on my own, Jack. I need help. Your help.” Jack straightened. His face went blank; he blinked, taken aback. He looked…touched. “Oh.”
It's been touched up so there's some good cold front comfort here, AYO! I was torn between this and a very funny section that involves grilled cheese but I'll let you experience that one for yourselves ;)
NOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, ENJOY!
And I'll see you all in the next few days for Chapter 28 of Crystal Springs :)
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groan-taire · 9 months
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sidestep ask game asks for ! Lucas: 1 3 23 Jonah: 5 20 24 Olivia: 1 3 33 Charlotte: 7 21 30
I see you're partaking in the all you can ask buffet, that's a lot of questions to answer (thank you <3) so I'll put them under a readmore
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1. what is their secret identity? do they have any nicknames? what is the meaning behind them?
Lucas Basri, while not truly having a regular dayjob, is to the world (and Ricardo's possible snooping) employee of some computer repair store or something similar, something where he doesn't have to interact with people a lot and is just left to his tinkering in a quiet corner his nicknames are smartass and asshole, does not really go by nicknames otherwise
3. what is their villain name? why did they choose it? His villain name is Mirage because of the whole smoke and mirrors "I am not real I am not here" implications. He barely feels like a real person most of the time and does not really want to be a villain all of the time. But he will do what is necessary. He is on the anarchist route and trying to so he does not see himself entirely as a villain, but if the people need to see him as one to take him seriously then so be it. It's all an illusion anyways
23. how do they feel about possessing people? I think I answered this before but it's been a while so I will do it again. he thinks it's a useful tool at his disposal even if he is not entirely comfortable comandeering a stranger's body, but then again he is not super comfortable in his own body either... but until Argent he didn't quite realise the effect it has/can have on people besides making them lose a few minutes, so he's been feeling a bit more iffy about using it. If it's the only option he has left he will not hesitate but he will think more carefully about alternatives Eden/the puppet is a bit of a special case, he never super liked using him but he never felt bad about it cause there was no person left to affect... or so he thought until weird feelings and thoughts started happening more and more often.
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5. what is their zodiac sign? he's giving me Gemini vibes, don't ask me to elaborate, I do not know
20. how do they feel about death? been there, done that let's not think about it ever again died and came bacck wrong so now he is basically immortal right? haha like with most serious topics he tries to agressively not think about it, he is fine, everything is good
24. how do they typically come across to strangers? to friends? do they frequently use their telepathy to influence others’ perceptions of them?
he generally comes across as cheerful, friendly, extroverted, which he mostly is, to friends he will come across as a bit more chill and relaxed though, he's just vibing will certainly influence people's perception to make sure no one tries to dig deeper (which is why Ortega is such a thorn in his side /affectionately)
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1. what is their secret identity? do they have any nicknames? what is the meaning behind them Olivia Beck, unassuming little menace, disabled, cane user, couldn't possibly be a villain, officially got some boring 9 to 5 job - how believable that is is a different story Will respond to Liv or Livy, just short versions of her name
3. what is their villain name? why did they choose it? as a big fuck you to everyone her villain name is Sidestep, it is hers she's just taking it back, and it making people uncofortable and angry is just a nice bonus
33. how do they feel about herald idolizing them?
it's weird, she wishes he wouldn't do that, but she's also a little delighted by the irony of the Sidestep name hitting harder like this, mostly just uncomfortable with it tho, it is very distracting and overwhelming
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7. what is their dnd alignment?
At the risk of going with a slightly boring answer I would say true neutral, she doesn't go out of her way to do either good or bad for the sake of it. She is looking out for herself and her own (mob boss crew), she is pragmatic and not afraid to make tough choices
21. what is their philosophy?
Her philosophy is to do what has to be done and not letting feelings cloud her judgement, though she isn't always successful at the last part, she is fiercely loyal to those she cares about and will put herself at risk for loved ones, she does work to get rid of the SD but she's also not uninterested in HG's Position
30. what is their love life like?
in short: a mess She's playing the field but trying to not let anyone actually too close, not always successfully
Come get your own sidestep questions
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thetimelordbatgirl · 2 years
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The amount of Disney costumes/references throughout Hocus Pocus sequel bit is uh, rather annoying, but I do enjoy the clear gravity falls reference with two kids dressed as peanut butter and jelly who are pushing around a red wheel barrow of candy.
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lesbianlotties · 1 year
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the absolute headache that this show gives me is not normal. i feel like this episode lasted two months and then the preview for the next episode took a year out of my lifespan and what am i going to do next huh? how's this going to end???
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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years
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babe. jon snow is getting his own spin off on hbo post that godawful finale!
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jon snø?
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THIS IS THE LAST SEASON OF THE GOOD DOCTOR???!?!!?
AND IT'S ONLY T E N E P I S O D E S???!!!?!!?
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earthtooz · 9 months
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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 :,)
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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.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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aela-targaryen · 1 year
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guess who's finally adding the next chapter to their Game of Thrones continuation fanfiction after a year of no updates
spoilers: it's me
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