Usually I hate when people online base their whole character around being dorky on purpose, but Da Vinky twins are the only exception to this rule. They're self aware and just genuinely funny, my favourite of them is this video when they're like "People often ask us if we're only acting like this on camera, so today we'll find out. For that we only need to turn off the camera" and then they turn the camera off and the video ends. This is the funniest shit and I adore this joke so much.
How to create a character for an online or tabletop RPG (also a good guide on creating characters in general)
Royalty/nobility TV Tropes page
Basic character profile
OC masterpost
Random character generators - (1), (2), (3), (4)
D&D Character Building Tool
Character Design Ideas:
How clothing affects a character’s personality
Character Design Inspiration blog
Concept art, fan art, cool art to be inspired by
Character design references and inspiration
Sources for POC character design ideas and models
Create your own character model using HeroForge
For horned characters
Body and hair types guide
Random outfit generator
Naming Help:
Amazing site with an endless amount of naming resources
General advice on avoiding naming appropriation
Hispanic Surnames
Gothic Victorian names
Huge master list for character things in general
Masterlist of names of all types - including but not limited to ancient/old world names, Celtic, African, Northern European, Southern and Central American Native names, Japanese, Chinese, Mongolian, Polynesian, and more
Another name masterlist
How to pick a character name guide
Yet another names masterlist
Creating Background/backstory:
Character Sheet/Development Sheet
Another character development list
In-depth character personality, motivations and traits sheet
320 talents and passions for characters
On writing likes and dislikes that aren’t frivolous
Why you should write non-human characters non-conforming to the gender binary
Stereotypes, tropes, and archetypes
Random backstory generator
Assassin and thief character tropes to avoid
Character Interactions and putting your character into your world/story:
Comparing character height/height references
Characters who are scientists and writing about them doing science
Describing what different voices sound like
Describing skin tones
Writing friendship interactions that are platonic
Why having one character knock their friend unconscious to prevent them from doing something is a bad idea
Advice on shipping OCs with canon characters and what to avoid doing
Sweet Polly Oliver and Sweet on Polly Oliver situations (think of Disney’s Mulan for an example)
How to write multiple viewpoints/juggling a main cast of more than 4 to 6 characters
How to make readers care about your morally gray hero/anti-hero
On platonic OC and canon character relationships
How to avoid Godmodding in RPs
When it’s cheap to kill off a character
Writing dialogue
Things you shouldn’t do to canon characters
Avoiding purple prose in writing and RPs
Slang resources
Dialogue tips
Websites to chart your story/plot/character relationships
Sirius x Fem? reader! but reader has a larger animagi form (wolf for instance) then him.
I'm just imagining his reaction T-T
— This idea was too cute, i loved writing it. Hope you like it @msfandomsblog!
animagus | sirius black
pairing: sirius black x reader
summary: sirius is dying to know what animagus you turn into when you transform. he just wasn't expecting your animagus to be bigger than his.
obs: feel free to send any requests!
masterlist
Sirius Black was obsessed with figuring you out.
Ever since you had let it slip that you were an Animagus, he hadn’t let it go. Every day, without fail, he tried to guess what you could possibly transform into. It had become his new favorite pastime—along with annoying the hell out of you.
“A fox,” he declared one evening in the Gryffindor common room, lounging dramatically across the couch while you sat cross-legged on the floor.
You didn’t even look up from your book. “No.”
Sirius rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. “Alright, fine. A cat, then. A little scrappy thing, probably black with white paws.”
You turned the page, unimpressed. “Wrong.”
“A ferret?”
“No.”
“A squirrel.”
“Nope.”
“A rabbit?”
At that, you finally looked up, eyebrows raised. “Do I look like a rabbit to you?”
Sirius grinned. “I dunno, love. I think you’d make a cute little bunny, all twitchy and soft—”
You threw a pillow at his face.
“Oi!” he laughed, pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor.
Across the room, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew were watching the exchange with amused grins, both equally curious.
"You know," he said, lounging on the Gryffindor common room couch, "if you were something impressive, you'd have shown us by now."
You looked up from your book, unimpressed. "Oh? Is that how it works?"
“Alright, I’m with Padfoot on this one,” James said, leaning forward. “You can’t just say you’re an Animagus and not tell us what you are. It’s cruel.”
Peter nodded eagerly. “Yeah, even I told you guys when I figured mine out.”
You smirked. “That’s because it was obvious, Pete.”
Peter turned red. “I-I thought I might be something cooler.”
James patted his back sympathetically. “We all did, mate.”
Meanwhile, Sirius was still staring at you, arms crossed. “Come on, just tell me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
You smiled sweetly. “Because I like watching you suffer.”
Sirius let out a dramatic groan, flopping back against the couch. “You’re torturing me. This is actual cruelty.”
You shrugged. “I think it builds character.”
James squinted at you, then turned to the only person in the room who wasn’t playing along. “Moony, you know, don’t you?”
Remus Lupin, who had been reading by the fire and staying out of the conversation, sighed and finally looked up.
“I do.”
Three heads snapped toward him at once.
“WHAT?” Sirius sat up so fast he nearly fell off the couch.
“You bloody knew?” James gaped at him.
Peter just blinked, looking betrayed.
Remus looked utterly unbothered. He turned a page in his book. “Yes.”
Sirius, however, was in full outrage mode. “AND YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?”
Remus arched a brow. “It’s not my secret to tell.”
You shot him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Moony.”
Sirius groaned and threw himself back onto the couch again. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Bit dramatic,” James muttered.
“The worst.” Sirius repeated. Then, he turned his gaze back to you, eyes narrowing. “I’ll figure it out, you know. One way or another.”
You met his stare evenly, lips twitching. “You can try.”
Sirius tilted his head, studying you with that sharp, knowing glint in his eye—the one he always got when he was about to do something reckless.
Then, in a flash, he lunged for you.
You squeaked in surprise as he tackled you onto the floor, pinning you easily. “Tell me.”
“No!”
He grinned down at you, the cocky bastard. “Tell me or I start tickling.”
You gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
James whistled from the couch. “I dunno. I’ve seen him do it before. He’s ruthless.”
Sirius smirked, fingers ghosting over your ribs. “Last chance.”
You struggled under him, laughing even though he hadn’t even started yet. “I hate you!”
“No, you don’t,” he said, voice low and teasing. His face was far too close, his breath warm against your cheek.
Your stomach flipped. Your little… thing with Sirius—whatever it was—had been going on for a while now. You weren’t officially together, but there was something between you, something playful and electric and infuriating.
He hadn’t kissed you yet. Not properly, anyway. But the way he was looking at you now? Damn it. He knew what he was doing.
You swallowed hard. “Sirius—”
He raised a brow. “Yes?”
You licked your lips, glaring. “Get off me.”
“Say please.”
“Sirius Black, I swear—”
Suddenly, Remus’ voice cut through the moment.
“Prongs, how much do you bet he’s going to get hexed?”
James smirked. “Five galleons says it’s in the next ten seconds.”
Peter nodded. “Seven if it’s a particularly nasty one.”
Sirius turned to scowl at them. “Oi! No faith in me at all?”
You took the distraction as your chance. With a quick movement, you flipped him off you, pinning him instead.
Sirius blinked up at you, surprised.
You grinned. “Gotcha.”
James and Peter burst out laughing.
Remus smirked. “Told you.”
Sirius just stared at you for a second before letting out a breathless chuckle. “Okay. Maybe I do like you a little.”
You raised a brow. “Because I took you down?”
“Because you’re brilliant,” he admitted. Then, he smirked. “And because you’re bloody infuriating.”
You laughed, finally letting him go. He sat up, brushing dust off his shirt, still grinning like an idiot.
“Alright, fine. If you won’t tell me, you’ll just have to show me.”
You tilted your head. “And what makes you think I’ll do that?”
Sirius grinned. “Because you like watching me suffer, but not too much.”
You pursed your lips. Damn it. He wasn’t wrong.
“Fine,” you sighed. “Meet me in the Forbidden Forest after dinner.”
Sirius lit up like Christmas had come early.
James clapped his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Peter nodded. “If it’s another rat, I’m gonna be really disappointed.”
You just smirked and leaned in toward Sirius, voice low and teasing.
“Try to keep up, Puppy.”
Sirius stiffened. “What?”
But you were already standing, winking before walking away.
Sirius turned to Remus, eyes narrowed. “Moony. What does that mean?”
Remus just smiled.
“You’ll see.”
It was well past curfew when the five of you crept through the castle, moving like shadows through the dimly lit corridors. James led the way, his Invisibility Cloak draped over himself and Peter, while you, Sirius, and Remus followed closely behind.
“Merlin, I forgot how much of a pain it is to sneak out with all of you,” Remus muttered under his breath as you all slipped through the entrance doors and onto the Hogwarts grounds.
“Oh, Moony,” Sirius said, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Back in my warm, safe bed,” Remus replied dryly.
You snickered. “Come on, Remus. This is exciting. It’s like a grand unveiling.”
James let out a dramatic sigh. “Feels more like a funeral. For Sirius’ dignity.”
Sirius scoffed. “My dignity is perfectly intact, thank you very much.”
“You’re literally about to be proven the biggest idiot in the world,” Peter pointed out.
Sirius waved a dismissive hand. “Technicality.”
It wasn’t long before you reached the Forbidden Forest, the towering trees casting long shadows over the path. The air was crisp, carrying the distant hoots of owls and the rustling of unseen creatures.
Up ahead, you turned back to face them, walking backward effortlessly. "Are you lot always this loud when you sneak out?"
"Only when it's worth it," Sirius shot back. His usual smirk was in place, but you could tell he was itching with curiosity.
You had been dragging out the mystery of your Animagus form for so long, and now that the reveal was minutes away, he was practically buzzing with anticipation.
James jogged up to walk beside you, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, we're here. Time to end the suspense. Unless, of course, you’re just a particularly large rabbit and don’t want us to laugh at you."
You gave him a flat look. "Do I seem like a rabbit, Potter?"
He shrugged. "Peter didn’t think he was a rat, but here we are."
"Oi!" Peter protested.
You chuckled and stopped walking, rolling your shoulders like you were shaking off the last bits of hesitation.
"Alright," you said, stepping away from them. "Try not to faint."
Sirius scoffed. "Oh, please. How dramatic do you think I am?"
"You really want me to answer that?"
Remus chuckled, hands stuffed in his pockets. "I’d step back if I were you, Pads."
Sirius frowned but took a step back anyway, watching you closely. James and Peter were practically bouncing with excitement, their eyes flicking between you and each other, anticipation crackling in the air.
You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar shift in your bones, the heat in your chest as your body reshaped itself. It was a feeling you'd grown used to—a second nature, really. Within seconds, your vision sharpened, the world around you becoming clearer, scents stronger.
When you finally stood in your Animagus form, the reaction was immediate.
Peter let out a strangled noise. "Bloody hell."
James’ mouth fell open. "You—you’re huge!"
Sirius just stared.
Slowly, he took a step forward, eyes wide. "No way."
The silence stretched between you as he took you in—your thick, dark fur, the way your golden eyes gleamed in the moonlight, the size of you.
You huffed out a breath, amusement dancing in your gaze.
James was still gawking. "You look like Moony when he transforms. You do realize that, right? Just not as big"
Remus smirked slightly. "That’s why I knew, by the way. I could sense another wolf."
Peter was still blinking, as if trying to process it. "She’s so big."
Sirius, however, had yet to say a word. He was still looking at you, his usual cocky confidence completely gone.
You tilted your head at him, amused by his speechlessness.
James nudged him. "Oi, Pads, cat got your tongue?"
Sirius ignored him, stepping even closer, slowly circling you like he was trying to convince himself you were real.
"Merlin’s beard," he breathed, reaching out to run a hand through your fur. "How did I not know this?"
You stood before them in your full Animagus form—a wolf, but not just any wolf. Your fur was sleek, catching the moonlight in streaks of silver, and your golden eyes shone with something intelligent, something knowing.
You let out a low, amused growl and took a step forward, tilting your massive head.
Then, just to mess with him, you dragged your tongue across his face in one swift motion.
James lost it.
"OH, THAT’S BRILLIANT!" he howled, doubling over with laughter.
Peter let out a wheezy laugh. "She just licked him!"
Even Remus, usually the composed one, was chuckling. "I think she’s asserting dominance."
Sirius wiped his face with a disgusted expression. "What the hell?"
You let out a soft, wolfish chuff, eyes gleaming mischievously.
James clapped a hand on Sirius' shoulder, barely able to breathe through his laughter. "Face it, mate. You’re not the biggest dog anymore."
Sirius groaned, rubbing his face again. "This is humiliating."
Peter giggled. "You got licked."
Sirius shot him a glare. "Shut it, Wormtail."
You huffed, nudging your head against Sirius’ hip. He stumbled slightly but caught himself, staring at you with something between exasperation and fascination.
"You’re ridiculous," he muttered, but his lips twitched into something that looked suspiciously like admiration.
James, still recovering from his laughing fit, smirked. "Go on, Padfoot. Let’s see how you compare."
Sirius hesitated for only a moment before rolling his eyes. "Fine."
With a fluid motion, he shifted, fur replacing skin, limbs elongating until his familiar black dog form stood before you.
For the first time, the Marauders could actually compare the sizes.
You were bigger than him.
And Sirius Black had never been the smaller one before.
Sirius was still big. But you were bigger.
Peter was clutching his stomach. "You’re not the alpha anymore!"
Remus smirked. "How the mighty have fallen."
Sirius shifted back into his human form, running a hand through his hair with a long-suffering sigh. "I hate all of you."
You shifted back as well, grinning as you leaned into his space. "Oh, don’t be a sore loser, Puppy."
Sirius groaned. "I swear to Merlin, if you call me that one more time—"
"—you’ll what?" You smirked, poking his chest. "Bark at me?"
James wheezed. "I love her."
Sirius was still looking at you, eyes flickering with something unreadable—something like wonder. But then, his lips curved into a familiar, mischievous smirk.
"Alright then, big bad wolf," he said, tilting his head. "Let’s see if you're as fast as you are massive."
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You want to race me now?"
James perked up. "Oh, I need to see this."
Peter grinned. "My money’s on her. She’s bigger, so she’s got longer legs."
Sirius scoffed. "Please. I was born to run."
Remus chuckled. "This should be interesting."
You exchanged a glance with Sirius, the challenge clear in both of your eyes. Without another word, you shifted, bones reshaping, muscles tensing as fur replaced skin. The familiar rush of magic coursed through you, and when you landed back on all fours, you stood tall, staring down at Sirius, who had already shifted into his sleek, black dog form.
His tail flicked as he trotted up to you, cocky as ever despite the size difference. He bumped his head against your shoulder, nipping at your ear playfully before bounding a few steps away, kicking up dirt as he turned to face you.
James grinned. "Alright, you two. First one to the fallen tree by the river wins."
Peter climbed onto a nearby rock to get a better view. "On my count—three… two…"
You and Sirius crouched low, muscles coiling in anticipation.
"One!"
The moment the word left Peter’s mouth, you exploded forward.
The world blurred around you, trees whipping past as the wind rushed through your fur. You were fast, incredibly fast—your powerful limbs propelling you forward with each bound. For a brief moment, you were sure you had the lead.
Then a flash of black fur shot past you.
Sirius.
He was quick, weaving through the trees with ease, his smaller frame making it easier for him to dart through tight spaces. His paws barely seemed to touch the ground as he surged ahead, his tail flicking behind him like a silent taunt.
A low growl rumbled in your chest. Oh, hell no.
You pushed harder, closing the distance between you. The river was coming up fast, the fallen tree just beyond it. Sirius glanced back, and you swore he was grinning—if dogs could grin.
The moment of distraction was all you needed.
You lunged forward, shoving your weight against his side. It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but it was enough to send him slightly off course, making him stumble for just a second.
That second was all it took.
You surged ahead, paws pounding against the earth as you reached the fallen tree first, leaping effortlessly over it before skidding to a stop.
Sirius landed beside you a moment later, shaking out his fur. He huffed, eyes gleaming.
You wagged your tail, smug.
But Sirius wasn’t one to take a loss lightly.
Before you could react, he launched himself at you, tackling you sideways into the grass. You let out a surprised yelp as you tumbled, rolling with him in a flurry of fur and limbs.
When you finally stopped, he was on top, paws pinning your shoulders down. He loomed over you, his nose practically touching yours, dark eyes glinting mischievously.
You struggled, trying to shove him off, but he was strong. Stronger than you had expected. Even though you were bigger, his muscles were dense, his body built for speed and power. You thrashed beneath him, twisting your body, but he only pressed harder, amusement flickering in his expression as if to say, Go on, keep trying.
You huffed, frustrated.
Sirius let out a deep, satisfied noise in response.
James and the others finally caught up, breathless from running.
"Merlin’s beard," James wheezed. "You two are insane."
Peter stared at the sight of Sirius pinning you down. "I thought she’d be stronger than him."
Remus smirked. "Size isn’t everything."
Sirius, still in his dog form, gave a triumphant wag of his tail before finally stepping off you. You immediately rolled to your feet, shaking out your fur before nipping at his side in retaliation.
He barked—a deep, amused sound—before lunging at you again.
You both tumbled through the grass, playfully wrestling, testing each other’s limits. You would try to shove him down with your weight, but he was too quick, always maneuvering around you, twisting just enough to keep the upper hand. Every time you managed to pin him, he’d slip away with a sudden burst of movement, tackling you back down.
James and Peter were dying laughing.
"You two are like a pair of bloody puppies," James snorted.
Peter grinned. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sirius this happy."
Remus, leaning against a tree, just shook his head fondly. "He’s finally met his match."
Eventually, you and Sirius both slowed, panting heavily, your fur damp with sweat and dirt.
Sirius padded up to you, nudging his head against your shoulder, his tail wagging slightly. It was a silent acknowledgment—that was fun.
You huffed, leaning into him in response.
Then, just because you could, you licked his face again.
Sirius froze.
James lost it. "OH, SHE GOT YOU AGAIN!"
Peter was practically rolling on the ground laughing. "You should’ve seen your face!"
Sirius turned his head slowly, staring at you. You tilted your head innocently.
Then, without warning, he lunged—this time, not to wrestle, but to shove you flat on your side, pressing his entire weight against you in retaliation. You yelped in surprise, struggling, but he didn’t let up, practically smothering you against the grass.
James was in tears. "HE’S SQUISHING HER!"
Remus sighed. "Alright, that’s enough, you two."
Sirius finally relented, stepping back with a satisfied shake of his fur. You scrambled up, shooting him a glare, but there was no real malice in it—just playfulness.
He smirked at you, eyes gleaming.
You narrowed your own eyes in return.
This wasn’t over.
And Sirius knew it.
As the playful energy between you and Sirius finally settled, you huffed one last time, shaking out your fur before stepping back. He did the same, tail flicking in amusement.
Then, as if by silent agreement, you both shifted back into your human forms.
The transformation was seamless—fur receding, bones realigning, the familiar pull of magic drawing you upright until you stood, breathless and flushed from the chase. Your hair was windswept, twigs tangled in the strands, and your clothes were a little rumpled from rolling around in the dirt.
Sirius, on the other hand, looked just as disheveled—his dark curls were sticking up at odd angles, and there was a streak of dirt smudged across his cheek. But, as expected, he still looked insufferably smug.
James was the first to break the silence, doubling over with laughter. "I cannot believe that just happened."
Peter clutched his stomach. "The way she licked his face again—oh, Merlin—I thought he was going to combust."
Sirius shot Peter a glare, wiping his face with exaggerated disgust. "Yeah, well, it was unnecessary and completely uncalled for—"
"Oh, please," you interrupted, grinning. "You loved it."
Sirius scoffed, crossing his arms. "Loved it? I hated it."
"Then why did you let me do it twice?" You smirked, tilting your head.
James howled with laughter. "Oh, she got you there, mate."
Remus, who had been silently watching with a knowing smile, shook his head. "I have to say, I expected you to be bigger, Sirius, but—" he glanced at you, amused, "—turns out she wins that contest."
Sirius pointed at you dramatically. "This is ridiculous. I have always been the best animagus in the group! And now you show up with your freakishly large wolf form—"
"Freakishly majestic, you mean," you corrected.
"Freakishly overgrown," Sirius countered.
You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest in mock offense. "Oh, overgrown, am I?"
"You take up too much space!" Sirius gestured wildly. "I was running, minding my own business, and suddenly there’s this massive beast barreling beside me! You shoved me like I was a bloody twig!"
You grinned. "What’s wrong, Pads? Didn’t like getting knocked around a little?"
James was practically crying from laughter. "This is the best thing I’ve ever seen."
Peter nodded. "Honestly, she fits right in."
Sirius narrowed his eyes at you, stepping closer until he was just inches away, his expression unreadable. "You really enjoy challenging me, don’t you?"
You tilted your chin up slightly, refusing to back down. "What’s the matter? Afraid you can’t handle it?"
James whistled. "Ooooh, Pads, she’s got you cornered."
Peter nudged Remus. "What do you think? Are we finally seeing someone outmatch Sirius Black?"
Remus smirked. "I think we might be."
Sirius huffed dramatically, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. "Unbelievable. I finally meet my match and it’s her." He looked at you, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "You know, I should be mad. I should be completely outraged—"
You raised an eyebrow. "But?"
A slow, wolfish grin spread across his lips. "But I love a challenge."
You felt warmth creep up your neck, but you refused to let him have the upper hand. "Good," you said smoothly, stepping even closer. "Because I’m not going to make it easy for you, Black."
Sirius let out a low chuckle, tilting his head. "Oh, I’d be disappointed if you did."
James groaned loudly. "Okay, okay, I cannot deal with this tension right now."
Peter made a face. "Yeah, can you two flirt after we get back to the castle?"
Remus chuckled. "They won’t stop, Wormtail. This is just how they are."
Sirius turned to them, throwing an arm over your shoulder. "You lot wish you had this kind of chemistry."
You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. "Oh, shut up and start walking, Black. We’re already out past curfew, and I don’t feel like getting detention because you couldn’t handle losing."
And as the five of you made your way back through the darkened forest, whispering, teasing, and laughing under the moonlight, Sirius stole a glance at you.
He had no idea what this thing between you was—this endless back-and-forth, this thrill of trying to one-up each other, this feeling of never quite knowing who would win.
But he knew one thing for sure.
He never wanted it to end.
As the five of you walked back through the Forbidden Forest, James, Remus, and Peter were ahead, still snickering about everything that had happened. Their voices echoed in the cool night air, but you weren’t really listening.
You had slowed your pace slightly, letting the others get ahead just enough. Sirius, as if sensing the shift, naturally fell into step beside you, the usual cocky grin still playing on his lips.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The night was alive with quiet sounds—the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, the soft crunch of your footsteps against the dirt path.
Then Sirius exhaled dramatically.
"Alright, fine. I’ll admit it," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
You raised an eyebrow. "Admit what?"
"That you were kind of impressive back there."
You smirked. "Oh? Kind of impressive? I seem to remember winning that race."
He groaned. "You cheated—"
"—used my skills," you corrected, nudging his arm playfully.
He shot you a look but couldn’t quite hide the way his lips twitched. "You shoved me mid-run!"
"You got distracted," you teased. "That’s not my fault."
Sirius scoffed. "I wasn’t distracted."
You turned to him fully, walking backward now as you grinned. "Oh, no?"
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "No."
Your grin widened. "Not even when I licked your face?"
His jaw tensed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "That was disgusting."
You gasped dramatically. "You loved it!"
"I hated it."
"You loved it," you repeated, stepping closer.
Sirius narrowed his eyes, stopping in his tracks. You stopped too, facing him, the forest stretching out in quiet shadows around you.
Then, suddenly, he took a step closer.
His voice dropped, lower, softer. "You really think I loved it?"
The way he was looking at you—it wasn’t teasing anymore.
Your breath caught slightly, but you refused to back down. "I know you did."
His lips curled into something slow, something dangerous. "You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you?"
You shrugged. "It’s part of my charm."
Sirius hummed, studying you. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but there was something different in his expression now—something quieter, more intense.
Then, so casually it made your stomach flip, he said, "You looked beautiful back there, you know."
Your breath hitched.
Not impressive, not strong—beautiful.
His words made your stomach flip, and for the first time all night, you didn’t have a quick comeback. Instead, you just looked at him, the dim moonlight casting soft shadows across his face, making him seem almost unreal.
Sirius noticed your sudden quietness, and his lips twitched into a smirk. “Merlin, are you flustered? That’s a first.”
You scoffed, snapping out of it. “Oh, please. You wish you had that effect on me.”
“Oh, but I do,” he murmured, stepping just a little closer.
You swallowed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. “Keep telling yourself that, Black.”
He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his grey eyes. “Alright, tell me this, then—if I did kiss you right now, you wouldn't be flustered?”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Are you planning on kissing me?”
Sirius smirked. “That depends. Are you planning on stopping me?”
You stared at him, pulse racing.
For a second, you thought he might kiss you.
For a second, you thought you wanted him to.
And then—
"Oi, you two! Stop snogging in the trees and hurry up!"
James’ voice echoed through the night, breaking the moment.
You both turned to see the three boys standing at the castle’s entrance, waiting. James had his hands on his hips, Peter was grinning knowingly, and Remus… well, Remus just looked mildly amused as if he had already expected this.
Sirius sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Ruined. The moment is ruined.”
You smirked. “Oh, please. What moment?”
Sirius groaned. “You’re impossible.”
You gave him a playful shove before walking ahead to catch up with the others, but before you could get too far, Sirius grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks.
You looked up at him, surprised.
He leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him in the cool night air.
Then, with a smirk, he murmured, “You still haven’t answered my question.”
Your breath hitched.
But before you could say anything, he let go of your hand and strode forward, whistling as if nothing had happened.
You stared after him, heart racing.
Oh, he was so infuriating.
And you were so in trouble.
The Gryffindor common room was quiet when the five of you finally slipped inside. The fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the room, and the only sound was the soft crackling of the embers. It was late—probably well past two in the morning—but none of you seemed particularly rushed to get to bed.
James stretched, letting out a yawn. “Well, that was definitely the best thing to happen all week.”
Peter nodded, flopping onto one of the couches. “I still can’t believe you’re a wolf,” he said, looking at you. “And a big one at that.”
You grinned. “I do love a dramatic reveal.”
Remus smirked knowingly, arms crossed. “I knew all along, and it was still satisfying to watch Sirius nearly fall over from shock.”
James cackled. “He was mesmerized, wasn’t he?”
Sirius groaned, rolling his eyes. “Merlin, can we not bring that up again?”
“Oh, but we must,” James said. “It was so touching. He just stood there, staring at her like she was the moon itself.”
Peter snorted. “And then she licked him.”
Sirius pointed a warning finger at him. “Not another word.”
“Well, that was eventful,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I think I deserve a solid ten hours of sleep after all that.”
Peter groaned. “Agreed. I feel like I ran a bloody marathon.”
Remus chuckled. “That’s because you did, Wormtail.”
James clapped Sirius on the back. “I’d stay up and keep you company, Pads, but I don’t fancy another detention for falling asleep in Transfiguration tomorrow.” He glanced between you and Sirius with a knowing smirk. “Besides, looks like you’ve got company.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Oh, piss off, Potter.”
James just grinned before disappearing up the stairs with Peter and Remus.
Once they were gone, the room fell into a comfortable silence. The fire crackled, the glow of it reflecting in Sirius’ grey eyes as he flopped onto the couch, stretching his legs across it lazily. You hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him, though you left a small space between you.
For a while, neither of you spoke. You just sat there, basking in the warmth of the fire, the night’s excitement finally settling into something calmer.
Then Sirius let out a soft chuckle. “I still can’t believe it.”
You glanced at him. “What?”
He turned his head to look at you, eyes full of something unreadable. “You. That.” He shook his head. “All this time, I thought you were hiding something small. A little fox, a cat, maybe even a bloody squirrel.”
You snorted. “A squirrel?”
“Well, obviously I was wrong,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But, Merlin, a wolf?” He exhaled, a slow, disbelieving sound. “I didn’t see that coming.”
You smirked. “Told you to wait.”
He huffed. “Yeah, yeah.” Then he turned fully toward you, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Alright, then. You’ve officially changed the game. Now I have to race you again.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Didn’t seem like you could handle it the first time.”
Sirius groaned dramatically. “One time. You shove me one time and suddenly you think you’re the queen of speed.”
“I mean, I did win.”
Sirius scoffed. “No, you cheated.”
You smirked. “Sounds like something a loser would say.”
He turned, grabbing a pillow off the couch and smacking you lightly with it. “Oh, shut up.”
You laughed, pushing it away. “Fine, fine. But alright—another race. When?”
Sirius hummed, tapping his fingers against the back of the couch as he thought. “Tomorrow night.”
You blinked. “Tomorrow? Again?”
He smirked. “Scared?”
“Please,” you scoffed. “I’m just concerned you’ll embarrass yourself twice in one week.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head with a grin. Then his voice dropped slightly, more thoughtful. “Seriously, though… it was brilliant.”
You tilted your head. “The race?”
He shook his head. “No. You.” His gaze flickered over your face, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “Watching you transform… seeing you run like that. It was—” He exhaled, as if searching for the right words. “It was like you were meant for it.”
Your teasing smile softened. “It felt like that,” you admitted.
Sirius nodded. “I get it. Being in Animagus form… it’s different, yeah? Everything’s clearer. It’s like you can feel the world better.”
You smiled. “Exactly.”
Sirius studied you for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something softer, something more thoughtful. The firelight danced across his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his face, the softness in his expression.
For the first time that night, the teasing between you faded into something else—something quieter, something almost unspoken.
And for the first time, you didn’t try to break it with a joke.
Instead, you just looked at him, feeling the warmth between you, feeling the weight of whatever was hanging in the air.
Sirius’ fingers tapped lightly against the back of the couch, his grey eyes searching yours.
Then, his voice barely above a murmur, he said, “I think I like you better like this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
His lips twitched slightly. “Calm. Not constantly trying to outwit me.”
You smirked. “So you do think I outwit you?”
He groaned, throwing his head back. “And there it is.”
You laughed, leaning back into the couch. The tension that had settled between you didn’t disappear—it just shifted, became something familiar again. But it was still there, lingering beneath the surface.
Sirius turned his head slightly, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Tomorrow night, then?”
You smiled. “Tomorrow night.”
You could still feel the lingering buzz of the night’s adventure, the rush of running through the Forbidden Forest, the feeling of Sirius right beside you, matching your pace. But now, sitting here with him, the energy between you was different. Slower. More deliberate.
Sirius tapped his fingers lightly against the back of the couch. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter than before, “I think this might be the longest we’ve ever gone without trying to one-up each other.”
You smirked. “You say that like I don’t always win.”
He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin, you’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are,” you said, tilting your head. “Sitting with me. In the middle of the night. Planning another race.”
Sirius shrugged, a slow grin spreading across his lips. “What can I say? You’re hard to stay away from.”
Something in your stomach fluttered. The way he said it—it wasn’t just a casual remark. It was something more. Something real.
You swallowed, suddenly aware of just how close he was.
His arm was still draped over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing your shoulder. His legs were stretched out, one of his knees bumping against yours. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it, and somehow, that made your pulse race even more.
Sirius tilted his head, watching you. “You’re quiet again.”
You blinked. “No, I’m not.”
He smirked. “Yes, you are.”
You rolled your eyes. “Maybe I just ran out of things to say.”
His grin widened. “You? I don’t believe that for a second.”
You sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch. “Fine. Maybe I’m just tired of doing all the talking. Maybe it’s your turn to entertain me for once.”
Sirius chuckled, shifting slightly so he was leaning just a little closer. “Oh? And what exactly do you want me to do?”
You raised an eyebrow, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe something impressive.”
His smirk deepened. “Define impressive.”
You pretended to think about it for a moment before looking him dead in the eye. “Surprise me.”
Sirius’ expression flickered for just a second—something unreadable flashing through his gaze—but then, before you could react, he was moving.
Slowly. Deliberately.
His fingers brushed your cheek, barely a ghost of a touch, and yet it sent a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickered to your lips for just a second before settling back on your eyes, as if silently asking permission.
You didn’t stop him.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t even breathe.
And then—
His lips met yours.
Soft. Warm. Gentle in a way you hadn’t expected from Sirius Black.
For a moment, everything else—the fire, the common room, the entire bloody castle—faded into nothing.
It was just him.
Just this.
Your heart pounded against your ribs as his fingers curled around the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer. You felt the way his breath hitched, the way he hesitated for just a second before melting into it completely.
And, Merlin, you didn’t realize how much you wanted this until now.
You kissed him back, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth.
Sirius made a soft noise in the back of his throat—like he was surprised, like he hadn’t expected you to kiss him back with just as much desperation as he kissed you.
When you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathless.
Sirius was the first to break the silence, his voice slightly hoarse. “Alright… I’ll admit… that might’ve been impressive.”
You let out a breathy laugh. “Might’ve been?”
He smirked, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “Okay, definitely was.”
You smiled, your fingers still curled lightly into the fabric of his sweater. “See? I do always win.”
Sirius groaned, closing his eyes for a second. “Merlin, I just kissed you, and you still have to be insufferable?”
You grinned. “You love it.”
His grey eyes flickered open again, and the way he looked at you—like you were something he never wanted to look away from—made your breath catch in your throat.
“Yeah,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I think I do.”
hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god
Dr. Dillamond's Chalkboard from Wicked Part I. Highlights included:
A matriarchal reign of Ozmas lasting until King Regent Pastorius (Ozma's father in both Baum's books and Maguire's)
A King Goat teaching humans how to farm. And those same humans turn on the Animals during the Great Drought rather than take responsibility for their own actions
The Great Drought echoing 20th Century America- explicitly caused by poor farming practices -it's even called the Dust Bowl.
The Impassable Desert forms as a direct consequence of the Drought
The "Wonderful" Wizard literally overthrew King Regent Pastorius to take control of Oz
----
Please, please let Ozma Tippetarius show up in Part 2!
truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.
summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.
a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog
wc: 4.9k
warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff
“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”
“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”
He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”
“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”
Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”
You laughed again. “Hardly.”
“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”
“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”
“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”
“That last one is very fun,” you defended.
“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”
“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”
“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.”
“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”
“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.”
“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.”
“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.”
“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.”
“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply.
That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend.
Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it.
“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him.
“Do what?”
“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.”
“I’m not following,” Fiyero said.
You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”
“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”
You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”
“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”
His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”
“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”
“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”
“Are you trying to compliment me?”
“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”
“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said.
Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”
“I do not!” you exclaimed.
“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”
Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut.
“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on.
“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”
Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that.
“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly.
“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”
“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”
“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”
Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did.
You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word.
You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.
You needed to finish this essay immediately.
-
You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you.
“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.”
Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor.
“Fiyero?”
“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”
“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?”
“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—”
“What are you doing here?” you repeated.
“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.”
You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.”
He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?”
“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.”
Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.”
You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.”
“That sounds about right, yes.”
“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.”
“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?”
If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night.
“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.”
“How much have you written already without me?” he asked.
“Five pages, but that—”
“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted.
“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this?
Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity.
“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?”
“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.”
“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?”
“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat.
I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize.
I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes.
I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you.
“Yes?”
“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.”
“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.”
“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.”
“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.”
That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.”
“I smile plenty,” you insisted.
“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.”
“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”
He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.”
Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?”
Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.”
He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?”
“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.”
“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”
Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”
“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”
“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”
He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”
“How could I?” you said weakly.
Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes.
“Don’t,” you warned.
“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!”
“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”
Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”
“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.”
“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?”
Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.”
“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?”
“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!”
“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.”
“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut.
“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”
“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”
“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.”
“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.”
You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.”
She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.”
“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same.
You were comically doomed.
-
The next day went… shockingly smooth.
Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated.
He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper.
He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).
He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you.
But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about.
You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long.
Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you.
“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said.
You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?”
“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.”
“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.”
“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”
You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.”
“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked.
“I’m not miserable,” you retorted.
It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.
After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy.
A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon.
You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three.
He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection.
“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”
“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.”
“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said.
You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”
“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”
“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”
“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”
You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”
“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”
“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”
“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”
“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”
“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”
You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.”
“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.”
You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.”
Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.
“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone.
“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.”
“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”
“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.”
You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”
“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.”
“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.”
Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence.
That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence.
It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to.
Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing.
Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”
He sighed. “Already?”
“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.”
He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.”
Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.”
He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?”
“Help you up?”
You nodded. “I can do it myself.”
He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.”
“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said.
“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.”
“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.”
Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now.
“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused.
Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?”
“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.”
Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero.
Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for?
You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself.
The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use.
You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface.
You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up.
His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”
You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.
“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”
You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something.
This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone.
And you found yourself laughing.
“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.”
You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder.
“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?”
“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!”
He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.”
“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?”
For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.
“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut.
“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat.
“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?”
The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you?
She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered.
“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”
“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?”
“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—”
“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight.
“Of course,” he nodded.
You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore.
“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up.
You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours
“Until you can change,” he said.
“...Thank you,” you said.
Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero.
“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again.
“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting.
You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs.
Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken
this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!
clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰
****
Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.
The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.
You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.
You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.
"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.
A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.
The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.
You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.
"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.
You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.
Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.
And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.
"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"
You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."
He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."
You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"
Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.
"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."
Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.
"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."
Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."
Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.
"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.
"No?"
"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."
Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.
"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."
"Oh. Thank you."
You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.
He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.
"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."
"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.
"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."
Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.
"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"
You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.
"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"
He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.
Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.
The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue (1974)
aka Non si Deve Profanare il Sonno dei Morti
aka Let Sleeping Corpses Lie
Star Films S.A. / Flaminia Produzioni Cinematografiche
Dir. Jorge Grau
Cristina Galbó as Edna Simmonds
Ray Lovelock as George Meaning
genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
summary: besides your not-so-tiny crush on him, your friendship with sirius black has been entirely wonderful. that is, until, a classmate asks you out and sirius suddenly grows distant.
warnings: a few swear words, food mention, sirius and reader are oblivious idiots
author’s note: ahh hi !! this is my first time actually posting my work on tumblr. im so nervous so um please Enjoy and be gentle with me. <33
word count: 4.5k
Keep reading
‘Cause that’s not cheek, Dud, thats true. @siobhanhope - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
