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eddiemunsonsbedroom · 9 months

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Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After months of dancing around your feelings with Joel, it comes to a head. And his reason for avoiding you comes as a surprise.

Warnings: MDNI 18+; suggestive content, no actual smut (yet?), potential for part two, which would be afab reader, since that’s all I can really do justice/know first hand, but no descriptive qualities as far as looks. Jackson era, swearing, age gap (32 and 56). Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Be gentle on me- I haven’t written much and not in SO long. And none for Joel.

Also rapidly realizing that despite taking so many honors English classes in HS and college, I really know fuck all about correct paragraph format and present/past tense, omfg.

Lemme know if you want the smut and I’ll make a part two lmao.

Joel is avoiding you.

You know it. He knows it.

And you know why.

You’ve been dancing around each other for days now. Ever since all of the lingering glances and brushing of arms came to a head and you grabbed his thigh in the shadows of the Tipsy Bison. Encouraged by his low lids and your even lower whiskey glasses.

He stopped breathing, and when he realized himself, he jumped like he’d been burned. Muttering some excuse before darting from the bar.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or to be embarrassed. But why be embarrassed when you knew how he actually felt? You could see it every time he looked at you with those dark eyes. Did he think he was being sly?

Months of the spindly fingers of your dry humor and wit, selflessness and competency that he so admired, worming its way through the splintering cracks of his walls until, without him even noticing, they shattered completely.

But you were too fucking young. He could’ve been your dad, for fuck’s sake.

You couldn’t have been more than your early thirties, at most. He was afraid to ask. At 56, he had no business looking at you in any form other than just his patrol partner. At most- a friend.

But fuck, it had been so long. Maybe that’s all it was, right? But even with Tess, he’d never felt like this. That was friendship- the sex just a means to an end- a way to escape. With you… he knew it went beyond just physical attraction. If he said it didn’t, he’d just be lying to himself. It was all of you.

It wasn’t his fault that he liked when you shot a clicker in the head without even an afterthought. Or that you could put someone in their place while being respectful at the same time. That you could teach him new things without making him feel like a stupid old man.

It wasn’t his fault that you could catch him off guard and make him laugh like he hasn’t in years. Or that your eyes sparkling in the Tipsy Bison twinkle lights made him stop breathing. And it definitely wasn’t his fault that he had to practically run from you so your wandering hand didn’t feel his thickening hard-on that came out of nowhere, like he was a fucking teenager.

It wasn’t your fault that he felt this way about you. But he had to be the one to stop it. Pretend like it never happened.

Which obviously you wouldn’t stand for. He should’ve known better.

As soon as you saw your name next to someone else’s on the patrol schedule for the following day, you decided that enough was enough. You gave him a few days to sort his shit out. It was time to give him a piece of your fucking mind.

———

Walking to Joel’s house was easy. Unfortunately for him, you were neighbors. Fortunately for him, you left your knives at home. You were fantasizing about stabbing him at this point.

Passing by Ellie’s lit up apartment you were relieved that she wouldn’t have to bear witness to your rapidly growing annoyance. It was beginning to fester into self doubt. Because fuck, what if you imagined how he felt and you basically assaulted him in public? Except you know that’s not the case. Right?

As soon as Joel opens the door you’re pushing past him into the kitchen.

It looks like he hasn’t done a dish in days. Flannels taken off after a long day strewn over the backs of dining chairs. Crumbs on the counter.

“Jesus, Joel, crack a window. What’s going on in here?”

Sighing your name, he rounds the corner after you. “Is there a reason you barged into my house?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me,” you huff, leaning against his counter.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he averts his eyes, deciding that now is the time to tidy his kitchen.

“Don’t bullshit me, Joel.”

“‘m not,” he sighs, filling the sink with warm water.

“Yeah? Then why is now the time to do the dishes that have been sitting there for three days?”

Fuck. He knows you’re not going to let this go, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to avoid the topic for as long as possible.

“Joel, did I make you uncomfortable?”

His head snaps up, “what?”

That, unfortunately, was the furthest thing from the truth. He wishes it was so he could gently let you down and have you be on your way. Go back to the way things were before, before he knew what he was missing. Before he got addicted to you and you consumed his every waking thought.

“When I… touched you. In the bar,” you falter, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Second guessing everything. Because what if that’s actually what this was?

He decides to get it over with before this becomes any more unbearable.

“Christ. No, I wasn’t uncomfortable. That was the problem,” he grits out.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking. Knew it!”

“Listen-“

“No, you listen. I don’t know what your deal is. I get that we’ve both been through some fucked up shit in the last twenty years, and maybe that’s a huge reason for why you’re so closed off. Denying yourself something that you obviously want-“

He starts to cut you off, saying your name in a stern whisper, but you don’t let him.

“Let me finish.” Surprisingly, he lets you continue, a war waging in his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Joel. I’m asking you to just be fucking honest with me. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. It doesn’t have to be anything at all. But I know you feel something for me.”

He’s gripping the counter so hard that his knuckles are turning white. His jaw ticks as he looks down into the sink, watching the little soap bubbles burst until he collects his thoughts enough to speak. You don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he starts talking.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do with this. I’m too-“

“Stubborn?” You suggest, despite yourself.

“Old,” he forces out.

Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline, because that is not at all what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m 56. I’m way too old for you, sweetheart.”

You clench at the nickname despite wanting to throttle him. “I’m 32. Not 13.”

He groans. “Not helping.”

You lean away from the counter. “I thought you were avoiding this because you were like…” you flail your hands, trying to find the words, “emotionally fucked up, or something.”

He snorts, despite how flustered he feels at admitting his insecurities. “I probably am. But that’s not the point.”

“I’m a grown ass woman. We met as two grown ass adults, Joel. What are you afraid of?”

He clenches his jaw. He can’t meet your eyes.

You press on. “Are you worried about what society thinks? There’s an apocalypse, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t give a shit what Mrs. Johnson down the street thinks. She’s an asshole anyway-“

“Darlin’-“

“No. What’s the point in surviving if you stopped really living twenty years ago? You’re not dead. You deserve to do what makes you feel alive.”

He drags his eyes up to yours, leaning up from the sink. You think he might touch you, but he only faces you. Hesitant.

“Doesn’t bother you that I’m old?” He rasps, eyes low, inching closer. “Hm?”

“I think it’s kind of hot,” you say, smirking.

You shyly smile at each other. Letting it settle.

“We only live once, Joel,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be on my death bed thinking, ‘damn, I really wished I’d fucked that old man’.”

He barks a single surprised laugh at that, throwing his head back.

And you think he’s never looked so beautiful.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel tlou #thelastofus #pedrohub #joel miller x reader

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idyllcy · 2 months

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from one admirer to another : how do you like your eggs?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did.

As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, maybe we can find another middle ground aside from Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, Ada. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me?

I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Maybe you pass me on the covers of local magazines all the time if you live nearby. I'm not nearly as famous as Ada Wong, though, so I suppose I can never truly call myself a big model until I become someone like her. Even then, she's not a supermodel.

Tell me more about yourself, maybe? What's your favorite holiday? How do you like your eggs in the morning? Do you even eat eggs? Why the name "scrambled eggs" over anything else? What do you do in your free time— oh, I should answer that question.

I seldom have free time lately, but I feel like all I've been doing late is reading the fic that I mentioned earlier. Oh, right, hopefully you enjoy the sticker I got from a fan gathering. I did a little bit of research, and it seems pretty normal to send your penpal small trinkets in the letters, so we'll start with a sticker.

I thought the mail would be digital, and then I was notified that you would prefer physical mail — which, to be fair, I'm not complaining about. I think it would be funny to open a box of letters exchanged between a penpal and I 10 years down the line. Who knows, maybe you'll even be at my wedding.

Right, my apologies for a long first letter, but I'm excited to be starting this.

signing off, Christmas

Leon sends the mail the next morning, rubbing his eyes slowly as he rides the public transport to his next shoot, waving good morning to his manager as he sips on his coffee, hair blushed back and gelled, formal clothes handed to him. Leon finds that he doesn't really suit clothes like this, but for the camera, he puts up with just about everything. He finds it interesting that he would be modeling in clothes he hadn't liked wearing all that much.

"You have another shoot later today, and then you're off for the rest of the weekdays. You have another shoot over the weekend."

Leon nods, blinking slowly as the coffee shoots through his system and he's revived magically. It feels unreal. He's working as a model despite finishing the police academy at the top of his class. Is this what delusion and some sweet talking from a random agent can do to a person? It feels a little wasteful to let his training turn into this, but he's not complaining all that much. Yet. he meets eyes with the model he's supposed to be posing with, blinking in surprise. Wow. That appearance is lethal.

He waves at you, giving you a small smile as you wave back, smiling back.

"New?"

"Mm... moreso someone who doesn't like booking. My manager booked this months in advance, so I'm here." You stay still as the makeup artist finishes with you, Leon raising a brow as you give him a cheeky grin.

"Did you leave before your makeup was finished?"

"I wanted to meet you. I heard I was modeling with someone pretty well-known." You grin. "Leon Kennedy, was it?"

"Yes. Am I that big now?"

"Mm... you're quite a name amongst us local models." You tap your chin. "It's quite an honor modeling with you. I heard you have deadly biceps."

"Well, you can't see them through the suit."

"It comes off, no? I'll just fix it." You tilt your head.

"And how do I know you won't jump my bones?"

"Oh, please. I'm your coworker right now. I'm not someone sketchy." You roll your eyes, helping him free an arm as he flexes for you. You blink at his arms, raising a brow as you stare up at him. "Can I squeeze?"

"As long are you're not weird about it."

You grab his bicep, giving it a squeeze as you nod slowly. "God, I need your arm routine. You got a trainer? I'd like to get that contact."

Leon rolls his eyes, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up his neck from your skin contact. God, what is he? fourteen? Get a grip, Leon. "Gotta get that from my manager, then."

"Shame." You sigh, helping him put the suit jacket back. "Maybe the next time I bump into you, I'll have biceps of a greek god too."

"Leon, model two! You two are up!"

"Wow, they don't even name you?"

"Maybe I just like being mysterious."

start : masterlist : next letter

#leon kennedy x reader #☾.oata #leon x reader #feels necessary to make mention... YOU KNOW THEY'RE PENPALS BUT THEY DO NOT.#also i know leon would never realistically leave the police academy for modeling with his backstory but SHHHH

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neapolitanupsidedowncake · 1 year

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UR HEADCANNONS ARE TO DIE FOR 💗 COULD U DO HEADCANNONS ON HOW AIZAWA,PRESENT MIC, IZUKU,BAKUGO,KIRISHIMA AND DENKI (U can do one of those characters or just pick a few from them! Up to u!) WOULD BE AS UR BF! THANK U ❤️❤️❤️

denki and kirishima boyfriend headcanons!! gn!reader

content warning: fluff, established relationship between reader and characters

a/n: when i got this note i was rly happe TwT thank you so muchhhh, it means so so much to me that someone likes the things i write <3 gives me so much power!! power to write more! so sry this one took long eheh. anyway i really hope you like this one!!

DENKI

he's my favorite boi!! 💖💖

you guys probably went from best friends to lovers!

the way he told you he liked you was by some really huge show XD

like he had sero and kirishima to be his wingmans to go to your dorm and they got fake rose petals and scattered them at your dorm doorframe

and you hear commotion outside your dorm like ("AAAAH IM FALLINGIMFALLINGHALP" "BRO THEY'RE GUNNA HEAR CHILL")

and you open the door and you see the trio all sprawled out on the floor and you hear like scattered whispering like "get into foRMATION"

(*ahem* "where's the script man" "bro i think i dropped it on the way here" "ya know what freaking screw it")

"I WOULD LIKE TO GO ON A DATE WITH YOU, LIKE ROMANTICALLY PLEASE"

onto established relationship!!

in general he's a really goofy bf he'll send you enough memes in about 10 minutes to be a mini fyp

so i don't know if it's a style choice or he needs them for vision and stuff, but in official art he'll wear glasses, so i think that when he's just chilling with you, he'll wear prescriptional glasses (ughhhh he looks rly handsome in them)

speaking of, his hero suit has these blue glasses, so sometimes, he'll put them on you just for fun

i think his ideal date choice would be going to a cute restaurant or going to a cinema 💗

your friends are his friends!!! you won't have to worry about him cheating on you or falling for one of your friends because he does pda with you around them XD

his love languages are (to give)! quality time, physical touch, and words of affirmation. he likes receiving words of affirmation, also acts of service 💗

KIRISHIMA

he is a lot like denki XD just different font you know?

he lovessss to admire you <3 he'll buy you lots of nice suits/dresses to wear on dates

before you go out anywhere on a date he'll kind of study himself in the mirror before asking you if he looks sharp (no pun intended)

SUCH A FRIGGING GENTLEMANN like husband material if you ask me

he'll open doors for you and hold your hand in a big crowd

he's actually insecure about a few things, and if you let him, he'll open up to you about them because he believes communication is key in a relationship (not that he'll ever pressure or force you to vent to him about stuff)

in general he won't really force you to do anything you don't feel up to

he lovesssss cuddling you, him being big spoon 💗

his natural hair color is black, meaning he dyes his hair, so he'd be good at it i'd think, so if you're just chilling together, he'll ask you if you want to dye your hair

you guys have a lot of inside jokes, like you could be hanging out in public and he'll randomly say something like "hey remember the hairbrush" "oh my gosh STAWP" "AHEHWHEHHWHEHE" people in public be lookin at you like you're crazy

he probably has a rock on his desk in his dorm that he named harold btw

his love languages are quality time and words of affirmation! he likes receiving words of affirmation too!

he plans on marrying you a few years after high school 😂

#-neapolitanupsidedowncake ♡#mha #bnha #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #denki kaminari #denki x reader #denki fluff #denki headcanons #eijiro kirishima #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima headcanons #✿ peachy-writes

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judasgot-it · 1 year

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Soft hc for tecchou please, I love him🥹

Thank you so much for requesting!! I haven't done headcanons yet so sorry if the format is weird or if it reads odd, I'm still figuring this out

These are really self-indulgent ngl but I am trying!!

Soft Tecchou HCs

Tecchou definitely speaks his own love language, so what might be considered 'inappropriate' or weird is just him showing that he cares

He probably reaches over and fixes your shirt collar or hair a lot. He likes to use it as an excuse to touch you - like yea he could just be normal and give you a hug or a kiss, but instead, he'll just keep reaching over and brushing off some lint on your shoulders

He looks almost like a weird butler since he keeps reaching over so you don't have a hair out of place. You've had to tell him to stop multiple times before. He just coughs and pretends like he wasn't hyper-fixated on you for the last 30 minutes.

Occasionally he might feel like being annoying and shove his hand in your pockets. This is one of his favorite places to leave you little gifts too - like rocks or flowers. Your pockets are unfortunately always covered in dirt because of him, no point in trying to clean them out.

Speaking of gift-giving - this man is always giving you something. Usually, it's a snack he knows you like or just a water bottle so he knows that you're hydrated. Despite his diet I can see him being the type to constantly drink water 24/7 and would want you to at least drink a glass of water a day.

He just tries to give you gifts that make you happy or to show that he cares - big fan of him giving you little rocks.

He strikes me as a geology/nature science guy so would probably tell you about what he just gave you in great detail if you let him (This is important knowledge btw so indulge him)

Definitely has said "you remind me of them in some ways" after describing the most horrific creature you have ever seen/heard of (He means it as a compliment)

Dude definitely admires your personality and work ethic more than your physical features - he would probably say that's his favorite part of you if you ever asked (he's really good at dodging the "am i pretty?" question so don't even try it)

Tecchou probably stares at you a lot and like 9/10 times he's thinking about how much he loves you.

He also definitely doesn't realize he's been doing it for so long until someone tells him.

You're just really fun to look at - you grab his attention easily, which is the perfect time to give him a little kiss btw

He loves it when you do that - give him a kiss and he stops what he's doing just to look at you for a bit.

It's cute, he gets these big ol' puppy eyes and everything. Would wag his tail if he had one.

When you're alone he is a lot more physical - in public he tends to be a bit standoffish since he is usually on guard 24/7, but when you're alone together he definitely loosens up a lot

Probably is a little annoying about it - if you're not doing anything important he will forcibly drag you to the couch so you can cuddle. Doesn't matter what you do, he will pick you up for cuddles.

They're not bad though, since he's really warm and actually a good hugger. You just have to accept them since he likes to give affection quite randomly.

Sorry if this isn't the best but I am being super self-indulgent here. Trying my absolute best though but I'm so glad you requested especially Tecchou cause I am in shambles rn and he is my glue

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #tecchou x reader #tecchou bsd #tecchou headcannons

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azures-bazar · 1 year

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How would the gang members react to the female reader being a highly skilled badass martial artist and supermodel? I don’t mind if it’s headcannons or a a write up! Hope this is okay! Love your blog 💖

Headcanon - Strong martial artist - Female!Reader

Hi there anon, thank you for your request ! This is my very first headcanon, I hope you’ll like it ! I don't know much about martial arts, unfortunately :')

Overall gang members and Arthur, John, Dutch, Hosea, Sadie, Javier, Charles and Sean head canons ! In case you want other gang members, feel free to tell me and I’ll add them ! :D

I haven't found the right format yet, I'll keep trying to make headcanons to get better at it ! Please excuse my mistakes :')

Request : Female!Reader

Characters : Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Addler, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire

Relationship : Ambiguous, flirtatious, friendly, protective

Lines : About 8 per character

Overall gang members :

Well, let’s be honest : Everyone is actually impressed by the way you fight because no-one in the gang knows much about martial arts. You’re the very first gang member who is mastering this combat style !

And oh my god, you’re so gorgeous when you fight ! Everyone says it, even Bill and Micah, in their own way.

You’re also really skilled with guns, which leads a few gang members to be jealous of you. How can you be so beautiful, so strong and so skilled at once ? It’s not fair !

Even if you’re coming back to camp badly wounded and bleeding, while the whole gang is worried about you, you’ll sit down and take care of yourself without any help.

Because, you know… it’s just a flesh wound.

No one dares bothering you whenever you’re mad. Most gang members have seen how fierce you are, they seriously won’t try messing with you.

However, Bill and Micah did try once. They ended up badly hurt and never did that again.

The girls admire you so much that Mary-Beth created a fictional character inspired by you.

You are an absolute model to follow, not only because of your beauty, but also because you know how to fight for yourself and won’t hesitate calling people off if anyone is in danger.

And men respect you, despite some of them keep taunting you because you’re a woman who knows how to fight… which is something quite common in 1899.

Arthur Morgan :

Arthur knows how to fight with his fists, but in a different way. His technique is a little bit less… subtle, but he has broken as many feller's bones as you did.

However, he never had the opportunity to beat you when you’re having some friendly fights. You’re very quick, his fists never end up on your face. But don’t worry, he would never hurt you and can measure his own strength because he’s somewhat scared to cause you harm.

He wants you to teach him about martial arts, but is too shy to ask since he’s not much flexible and believes he would look ridiculous.

However, he secretly tries imitating your fighting positions when being out of sight, since he doesn’t want anyone to see him. He struggles at times, especially while trying to perform some high kicks on a nearby tree.

His muscles often end up sore and he says he just slept in a bad position. However, just by looking at these bruises on his legs and hands, you can quickly guess he’s lying.

He’s absolutely mortified when seeing you coming back to camp covered in bruises, and spends a lot of time trying to stitch your wounds up even if you tell him you don’t need his help.

You’re amongst the most beautiful women Arthur has ever seen. He likes drawing you, no matter what you’re actually doing. "She's a strange woman, fierce and skilled soul hidden beneath an angel's face." he wrote.

He trusts your skills whenever you’re going on robberies. He knows how good you are with guns, but also with your fists. And yet… he can turn into a protective bear whenever he sees someone take the advantage.

John Marston :

Just like Arthur, John never beat you during your friendly fights. You’re literally invincible and John likes teasing you to make you loose. However, it doesn’t affect you… and you still pin him to the ground without a struggle.

However, he says he won just once, despite everyone knows it is not true. Even Jack knows you never loose a fight. Aunt Y/N can’t loose against his pa’ !

You tried teaching him about your skills… but let’s be honest : John was not really a good student. He kept moving like crazy, fell quite often due to his overall lack of balance… and broke his arm.

Twice.

Whenever he’s tasked to rob a stagecoach or a train, John brings you in because you know how to fight, and because you’re almost a human shield. You can’t even count the number of times you had to fight folks while John was lockpicking a chest.

He often comments about your beauty and says how surprising it is to see such a gorgeous-looking lady being able to fight and win against men which are twice her weight.

When you’re caught in a brawl together, he often taunts you about having your beautiful face bruised. "It’d be a shame to have such a sweet angel-like face scarred like mine, huh ?". Indeed, it would, but it would only give you even more charisma.

And you taunt him on his scars in return, but he likes that.

Dutch Van Der Linde :

Dutch is absolutely amazed by your fighting skills and obviously doesn't try messing with you. Even if he needs something and you're not in the mood, he won't try anything.

He literally sees you win your friendly fights against his sons on a daily basis, he doesn’t stand a chance. Even if he's the leader of your gang and your "boss", as he often says.

You’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. He won't hesitate gently courting you on a daily basis… even when Molly is around. Mostly when Molly is around. "The toughest pretty girl in the world !" he always says when seeing you.

Despite being obviously aware of your skills, as soon as you’re coming back to camp, you MUST be protected, especially when you’re covered in bruises. You're not leaving his tent until you feel a little better.

He will spend some time applying a balm he asked Hosea to make while begging you to be careful next time. He wants your beautiful face and body to remain as perfect as it already is.

Dutch loves watching your trainings, finding you gorgeous and, somehow, very lovely. He admires you but feels frightened whenever he witnesses you chopping some wood with your forearms.

He likes having you under his wing, knowing that such a beautiful gem, so fierce and strong, mastering martial arts while being absolutely calm under any circumstances, needs to be guided.

He is afraid about you loosing faith in him. He doesn’t want to be on the wrong side of your fists… or your guns.

Hosea Matthews :

Hosea is a Cowboy Dad™, he wants to protect you even if he knows how strong you are, and secretly enjoys taking care of you. You’re such a beautiful and wild gem !

Especially when you’re trying to explain him that you don’t need his help. He finds pleasure in seeing you pushing him away out of pride. You know he’s not patronising, he just genuinely cares about your wellbeing.

No matter how badass or how strong you are, if you’re hurt, he's going full dad mode. Don’t try anything against it, you’re not going to escape him and his numerous plant-based balms. "It’s for your own good, sweetheart." he always says. It truly is.

He likes watching you fight against John and Arthur, just to witness their priceless faces every time they loose against you. After all, it’s such a funny even to witness !

Hosea also claps his hands to support each one of you during these short fights. It’s so amazing to see you pin Arthur to the ground, knowing how much he weights.

He won’t hesitate telling you how beautiful you are, no matter what you’re wearing or what you are doing. How can such a beautiful lady be this skilled ? He often thinks about it and tell how proud and absolutely in awe he is whenever you're around him.

Hosea somewhat supervises your trainings and tries cheering you up whenever something doesn’t go your way. "It’s alright, my sweet darling. Just try again !" can be heard whenever you miss your target or accidentally fall on the ground.

Even if you’re one of the most skilled gang members, Hosea is always worried about you going on robberies but knows everything will be alright, as long as you don’t follow Bill or Sean.

Sadie Adler :

You and Sadie share a lot in common, no wonder why you’ve been good friends for a while already ! The two of you are fierce and strong, and absolutely beautiful, indeed !

She doesn’t know anything about martial arts, but now she wants to be able to fight just like you. She would ask you to teach her what you know every morning, which is very sweet. It's lovely to see her excited like that !

She loves the way you walk back to camp after a robbery or a brawl and always asks you how many limbs you broke. Also, the two of you share this common independence whenever you need to stitch up your own wounds, not needing anyone’s help.

Sadie is already very skilled and is a quick learner, but she did not succeed in winning a fight against you yet.

However, last time the two of you had a friendly fight, she nearly won ! In a couple of months, she might be able to pin you to the ground !

She admires you as much as you admire her, you’re the perfect pair to be sent on raids against O’Driscolls or on random robberies. You always come back victorious… and wounded, but going on raids with Sadie is so much fun !

The two of you kinda scare the rest of the gang because of how skilled you are with your fists and with your guns. Amongst them, Bill is the most frightened.

She finds you gorgeous and won’t hesitate telling everyone about how she feels whenever you’re around her. She often compliments you because, according to her, you deserve it !

Javier Escuella :

Javier is absolutely blown away by your fighting skills and begs you to teach him how to fight like you ! "Like this, Y/N ? Like this ?" is his favourite quote whenever he tries imitating you, he sounds adorable.

Just like Sadie, Javier is a quick learner but tends to feel a little too excited whenever you compliment his overall flexibility. He would like to show more in order to impress you !

Javier laughs during your friendly fights because, sometimes, he has no idea about what he’s currently doing. He is very good with guns, this is what he often tells you.

Watching you during your daily trainings makes his heart melt as he finds you gorgeous, even while breaking wooden crates with your legs.

He is flirty, nobody denies it. Javier loves walking around you and often compliments your beauty by rewarding you with some adorable nicknames in Spanish.

You’re called leona, cariña, reina… at times, he teases you by calling you chiquita, but you like it anyway. A chiquita who knows how to fight and has broken a hundred bones in her lifetime.

He sings ballads about you and mentions how gorgeous and strong you are, but only he can understand what he’s talking about… unless you know Spanish.

If you’re wounded after a job, Javier will take care of you. And you won’t be able to resist his insisting stares ! If he wants to take care of you, he will do it.

Charles Smith :

Charles doesn’t talk much, but he actually admires the way you fight and smiles at you. He always falls out of time while gazing at you during your trainings, feeling mostly impressed but also charmed.

He has seen how good you are to fight and care for yourself, so he trusts you when you have to do jobs together. He really likes having you around !

He finds you absolutely beautiful but only tells it to you when there is no-one else around, believing you and only you should hear him. "You're a wonderful person, Y/N." he often says.

As far as you can recall, Charles publicly complimented you twice : one time because of an outfit he found beautiful, the other time because of your ease at pinning men down following a brawl at the saloon.

He did not tell you about it yet, but he absolutely loves watching you walk around in your most beautiful outfits… and fight wearing them.

If you try teaching him about martial arts, he will most likely end up teaching you what he knows about wild animals and how to hunt them. He feels grateful towards you for everything you can teach him.

If you don’t have one yet, Charles would craft you a bow for you to hunt with him. He takes his sweet time to teach you how to use your new bow and is very proud of you no matter what you're doing with it.

Despite fully trusting you, Charles is worried whenever you’re badly wounded and will take care of you, just like he does with anyone he loves. He knows you’re a tough cookie, but also needs to know you’re alright.

Sean MacGuire

Sean is clueless about what martial arts are. He genuinely believed you were talking about marital arts, making him feel confused to learn that what he thought to be the art of fancy weddings was actually a large set of fighting techniques.

He is in awe whenever you fight and is overwhelmingly excited when you try teaching him what you know. He looks like an hyperactive child who doesn’t really know how to stand still, but it’s kinda fun to watch.

His overall careless behaviour caused him to fall numerous times. He nearly lost another tooth while training with you, but laughed all the time, holding back some tears of pain.

"Me Da’ used to say women who know how to fight are the most beautiful women !" is his favourite quote. Indeed, you know how to fight, and Sean won’t lie to you about your beauty ! You are gorgeous, so beautiful and charming !

He admires how stern-faced you are whenever you stitch up your own wounds. He tried doing it once, but ended up screaming… so Arthur finished the job. But don’t remind him about it.

Whenever you’re doing jobs with him, you know you should not follow his lead. His carefree attitude makes a stark contrast with your calm behaviour, but he somewhat knows he’s safe with you, and believes you’re safe with him too... which isn't completely true.

He likes teasing you at times, giving you some sweet nicknames while falling from his seat whenever he’s drunk. He’s hopeless, but it’s fun to watch him like this. He likes calling you pretty doll, sober or not.

Sean is quick to compliment your beauty, he often shouts some of them from the other side of the hideout for everyone to hear him. The whole gang needs to know about it, and everyone agrees with him on that !

#rdr2 oc #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #javier escuella #sadie adler #charles smith #sean macguire #female reader #martial arts #azurestales #this is bad but I'm going to do better next time #sorry for my mistakes

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

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episode of savanaclaw chapter 1: the importance of visuals in conveying character

ADDEDUM: Sorry if you experience weird formatting and/or see repeated paragraphs when viewing this post; for whatever reason, Tumblr gave me a really hard time editing, formatting, and saving this OTL It looks totally normal on my end, but I’ve heard from some people the post looks wonky to them 💦 I’m not sure how to fix it…

The turtlesoupscans team has the first chapter out! ^^ (This is also the scanlation from which I borrow the images used in this post!)

Something I noticed when taking a closer look at the Episode of Savanaclaw is that the new mangaka is really good at drawing eyelashes 👁 👄 👁 There were so many times when I actually made a full stop while reading to admire the eyes and the lashes on like. EVERYONE especially on L*ona. I really enjoy that aspect of the new artwork! (I don’t know if this is just me, but Leona’s tail and hair also seem much longer in the manga adaptation than in the game…?)

… OKAY I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS NOW

I mentioned before that the manga has the advantage of using visual storytelling to help convey character in a way that the game can’t. I previously explored this concept as it applies to Cater’s general character in the Episode of Heartslabyul. But but but— (and I cannot stress this enough 😳) just from the first chapter alone, I think that the manga’s visual storytelling is going a long way to enhance episode 2.

So like in the game (2-6), there is a dorm leaders meeting in which they discuss the upcoming Magical Shift/Spelldrive tournament. It is here where Crowley suggests inducting Malleus into the Hall of Fame in order to take him off the field and give the other dorms a chance to shine. Leona interrupts and gives a brief speech about how doing that is admitting defeat before the game has even begun. He uses the story of the King of Beasts to remind his fellow dorm leaders that it is cunning, not brute strength or magical ability, that allowed him to triumph. This inspires the other dorm leaders to disallow Malleus from entering the Hall of Fame, as they all want to do their best to try and outwit him.

Now, there's nothing wrong with this scene in the game. It serves its purpose just fine. However, because of the game being a visual novel style, the story is mainly told via dialogue and 2D character models. The manga is able to greatly expand on this scene because it is not constrained to just dialogue and a few animations. Case in point, this:

In the manga adaptation of this scene, Leona gives basically the same points, but the art is a lot more dynamic. For example, when he first hears Crowley’s proposal, we get these shots which show us Leona’s obvious displeasure. There’s the slight frown, the ominous shadow over his face, and even a close up of his fingers laced together (a pose which already implies he’s a schemer):

Compare this to the limitations of Leona’s in-game model; he looks so obviously and overtly angry, which doesn’t sell him as a calculating character as well. Meanwhile, in the manga, you can still tell just how much the idea Crowley suggested has pissed Leona off, but the feelings come across on his face in a much more subtle way.

Then when manga!Leona begins his appeal proper, he physically STANDS UP from his seat at the table. This draws the other pairs of eyes in the room to him; you can see in the next panel that everyone, including Crowley, is looking at Leona. He commands the attention in the room.

Another small detail here is that manga!Leona slams a hand down on the table; previously, they were folded together. Without saying a word, you understand what this conveys: that, in addition to his intelligence, he also has power and influence in this situation, and he knows exactly how and when to use those boons to his advantage.

Actually, manga!Leona does a lot of small yet noteworthy things with his hands. Take, for instance, these next panels.

When bringing up the importance of using one’s brain, manga!Leona actually taps his head. In the game, Leona is limited to his general sprite where he lays a hand against his temple. This is the closest approximation to what the game can do to simulate that tap tap of the head, but it doesn’t really carry the full weight of the motion, especially not when paired with Leona’s annoyed in-game expression.

But then look at manga!Leona, who looks so smug and self-assured as he does the gesture. It really speaks to his own confidence—and, more importantly, we’re getting a more accurate image of what the other dorm leaders and Crowley are seeing. They’re witnessing Leona at the height of his strength, someone who uses his words to persuade and to inspire the downtrodden masses into following his lead and to make better lives for themselves. Leona now curls his hand into a fist—so now we’ve gone from the cunning laced fingers to the powerful slam of a hand on a table to a clenched fist, which, in this context, is meant to be encouraging and victorious.

Note that this is all a parallel to Leona’s Disney counterpart, Scar, who made promised the shunned hyenas a place in society. Said parallel is made even more apparent in the following page; manga!Leona literally raises his fist up, and there, right in the background, is the statue of Scar himself, haloed by sunlight, and clouds parted for him. Scar—and, by extension, Leona—appear almost “God-like” because of this deliberate composition.

At this point, Leona speaks about the King of Beasts’ great accomplishment: obtaining the crown through perseverance and wit, in spite of the odds being stacked against him. Look at how this page is framed; it’s nothing BUT Leona. He’s dominating not only the page itself, but also the discussion surrounding Malleus’s induction to the Hall of Fame. He is winning his audience over.

Again, the same lines play out in the game, but the impact just isn’t there. We just have a lot of Leona crossing his arms while looking mad and Leona with his hands on his hips. At best, he looks neutral or slightly bored by what he’s saying. At worst, maybe too angry or even pouting about the situation. It definitely doesn’t feel nearly as inspirational as him standing and raising a fist as he extols the values of the King of Beasts.

(Side note: why is Leona built like a god damn DORITO 🤡 Why’s his waist so TINY???? What is the purpose of that………………….. ….. …. . .:: … . … . . … . . .. . . this is not me simping THIS IS NOT I swear it’s not)

This next page characterizes Malleus more than it does Leona; Malleus is small here, shown with his back turned away, turning to “glance over his shoulder” at the others. This comes off as isolating, putting distance between himself, who is on such a high level, and his peers. It matches Leona’s dialogue, implying that Malleus truly is a “monster” out of their league, and they must find a clever solution to take that “monster” down.

Leona’s profile now shows slight signs of irritation right as he’s delivering the conclusion to his speech and thesis. His eyebrows are arched, he’s frowning, and he’s slightly looking down at the people he’s addressing. The tension here is palpable; you can feel the force behind his words, how strong his final statement is. It is the responsibility of everyone present at this table to find a way to defeat Malleus, not kneel over and accept defeat.

And the crazy thing is???? You can SEE in the faces of every single dorm leader how Leona’s words have affected them. You don’t need anyone to say a single word to understand what’s going through their heads. They’ve all been charmed. Look at how wide-eyed Kalim is, how Vil has his eyes narrowed (like he has realized something), Riddle is staring DIRECTLY at Leona (implied by an earlier page), and fuck Idia; the tablet’s screen tells us nothing Azul smiles knowingly.

We automatically know what the outcome is, and we know which way they will vote. This is conveyed so well, so clearly, that the manga doesn’t even bother to give us dialogue from the other dorm leaders opposing Crowley’s suggestion. The manga just immediately cuts away to a mob student being injured. (This is different than in the game, which had to show Vil, Riddle, Kalim, Idia, and Azul verbally agreeing with Leona to get the same message across.)

Anyway??? I had to get all of that out of my system 🤡 I just. Can’t get over???? How good the visual storytelling is for the manga adaptation??????

Entire lines from the original script could be scrubbed out and we still understand what is being said without them. So much character oozes off the page in the dynamic camera and composition. Scenes that I paid zero mind to in the game are sooo much more interesting when told through the manga, my eyes are glued onto the pages.

There’s so much nuance in the gorgeous artwork and the story that it’s trying to tell, and I think that’s a real testament to how talented the mangaka and the team behind Twisted Wonderland (the manga adaptation) are!! I’m by no means a fan of episode 2 of the main story, but 👀 the manga has definitely done a great job making Leona’s introduction to the audience memorable, and he feels like a much more charismatic and threatening “villain” for this episode because of that.

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noficbyhalves · 7 months

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I'm not dead, I was just eaten by the brain weasels. Everything is fine and I really meant for this to be over 5k :/

I would also like the record to state that I did finish this last night, I just chose sleep instead of staying up til 4am formatting it and fighting with tumblr about Malik's fucking name. So my Valentine's Day one shot was toooootally on time shut up don't look at me.

In other news febuwhump is looking more like it'll be whumpril but *gestures at the length of this monstrosity* y'all can deal. (If my life is enough of a disaster maybe my brain autofilling it as whumptober will be accurate! T_T)

Anyway!

Content warning for panic attacks, implications of past abuse, light internalized homophobia, vague allusions to sexual acts, a lot of profanity, and Altaïr being horny on main

Flowers, or A First Valentine's

(or, Altaïr's biggest enemy is actually the closet in this essay I will-):

Altaïr was very careful to avoid looking at Malik when the mail appeared, or he was certain his face would give him away. He knew what was going to appear anyway, had spent a week and a half overthinking it to death. Malik may not have thought much of the holiday, but Altaïr didn't feel right doing nothing at all. He had settled on a dozen red roses - simple, tasteful, impossible to misinterpret - with a note smothered in so many layers of handwriting charms so as to make it functionally anonymous.

Thankfully a convenient distraction materialized in front of him, in the form of the rapidly growing pile of envelopes addressed to him. Altaïr was considerably less thankful the second he looked closer, realizing they were dozens and dozens of Valentine's notes. He recognized some of the handwriting - the purple one was definitely Katerina, and he noticed Rhona's loopy script, which was baffling for numerous reasons - but there were many of them that he didn't in the slightest. He gingerly pulled one open, increasingly alarmed to find a love letter as long as his arm from some lady he had never met.

Malik still hadn't said anything, which would have stressed Altaïr much more if Malik's ankle wasn't pressed against his under the table. He couldn't have still been reading the note, it was barely two sentences, and even that Altaïr had spent days agonizing over, whether it was too much or not enough. If he had tried to write something half as long as the monstrosity in his hand, he'd have given up and flung himself into the lake. He had the words on it burned into his brain:

My Vega, May your day be as bright as your smile Happy Valentine's Day - Your not-so-secret admirer

Curiosity got the better of him. He dared to glance over at Malik, and for a second everything stopped. Because Malik was looking at the note, yes, but he was also trying and failing to hide a bashful smile in his hand. There was a blush blooming on his cheeks, a sparkle in his eyes. And if Altaïr was walking on air then, the moment Malik looked up and locked eyes with him stole the very breath from his lungs. He had to bite down on his tongue until it hurt, so he didn't say something out loud where other people could hear (something like help I'm so fucking in love with you).

The words that came out of Malik's mouth were not thank you or I love you (as Altaïr's daydreams where everyone else in the great hall suddenly disappeared would have gone). Instead they were, "What in the hell?"

At which point Altaïr remembered he was, in fact, holding a letter from a crazy woman, sitting next to a pile of similarly unhinged mail. "I... this lady sent me a Valentine's... essay? I have no idea who she is." He skimmed further through the letter, but each subsequent sentence made him more uncomfortable than the last.

"Well you are a public figure, I guess. Ladies love a war hero...?" Malik trailed off in a shrug.

Altaïr winced. "She's, uh, really into me having been a Templar, actually." That part was deeply weird on multiple levels, not least of which was the interpretation that any of it had been a deliberate ideological choice, as opposed to Altaïr being backed into approximately six different corners.

"What. You're joking," Malik looked as dumbfounded as Altaïr felt. His bafflement turned to outrage when Altaïr didn't break. "Who's screening these things?"

He had an awful suspicion the answer was nobody, or at least not for anything that wasn't a death threat. Not for the first time, Altaïr was very glad they had conspired to keep Malik out of the public eye. It was bad enough with all of this addressed to only one of them. "No, apparently she wants to-" He squinted as he searched for the correct line. "-heal the wounds on my soul with the power of her love?"

The noise that came out of Malik's mouth was somewhere between a gag and a laugh. "Oh my god that's terrible. What else did she write."

"Something about wanting a summer wedding..." Altaïr adjusted the parchment so he could double check the woman's name. "I don't know who this person is, why...?"

Malik had dissolved into laughter, and it took him a few moments to compose himself. "Read the rest of it," he said, wheedling when Altaïr balked at the idea. "C'mon, give her the dramatic reading she deserves."

Altaïr opened his mouth, closed it. Considered the merits of fleeing into the woods never to return. He quite frankly didn't want to read another word of the letter, much less out loud.

Malik seemed to catch that, at least, and had switched tactics to reaching out for the letter, slightly wiggling his fingers in the please give me that thing way (rather than the wands are for amateurs way, which he was also prone to doing). His eyes were wide in an approximation of an innocent look that Altaïr knew was total bullshit, but it wasn't like he could deny Malik anything on a good day.

He sighed, and handed it over. "You do it."

Malik's expression grew gleeful (not benevolent, not by a long shot, but gleeful). He started to read but immediately choked on a laugh, trying and failing to muffle it into his elbow. "She spelled your name wrong," he wheezed.

Altaïr had noticed the writer had used his grandfather's surname instead of the one he had chosen, but hadn't thought it was that funny.

"No, look," Malik said, turning the parchment around and showing him. Sure enough, the top of the letter had Altear scrawled on it. Altaïr let out a huff of laughter.

Malik pulled the letter back and cleared his throat, beginning to read in a deeply overblown falsetto. "My dear Alteeeer Wrong-Last-Name," he said, before switching back to his normal voice, "you're not even good at being deranged and obsessive, honestly..."

Altaïr snorted. "Is that the offensive part to you?"

"It's not wrong to expect a base level of competency. If you can't trust your stalker to get your name right, who can you trust?"

Altaïr decided there was no good response to that, and tore open a different envelope.

The falsetto was back. "I am writing this letter to tell you that I am madly in love with you. I had a vision you see, months ago, foretelling that you and I are destined to be soulmates." Malik rolled his eyes, "see, this is why divination is bullshit."

"That's not how divination works," Altaïr said tiredly, pulling out what appeared to be a normal card, along with a little bag of chocolates. "What are the odds these are laced, d'you think?"

"Too high to risk it. Novice, do not."

"I wasn't going to!" He insisted. Malik gave him a doubtful look. The problem, Altaïr thought, with Malik famously being half of his impulse control, was people refusing to believe that he was capable of the other half.

They steadily worked through the pile like that, Altaïr putting anything edible directly into the baskets that vanished garbage, and Malik providing scathing commentary on the letter all the while. It helped, having Malik there, the grounding contact under the table and the reassurance that "oh, ew!" was a reasonable response to someone telling him she wanted to lick his scars what the fuck.

He had gotten down to the last few envelopes when he dared to look at the one from Rhona again. Altaïr couldn't fathom why she would write to him. He was pretty sure there was no possible combination of words that wouldn't be weird. Would an apology be better or worse than none at all?

Malik had paused, eyeing the note in his hand, but didn't say anything. He just sipped at his coffee and let Altaïr sort it out in his own head.

That, more than anything, made up Altaïr's mind. "Mal?" he said.

"Yeah?" He frowned when Altaïr held the envelope out to him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Altaïr nodded. "Can you burn this for me?"

"I'm not a fucking matchbook," he grumbled under his breath, but flicked his wrist regardless. The paper caught in an instant, flames licking up the edges. It was ash before it hit the table, vaporizing in the scorching heat that merely felt pleasantly warm against Altaïr's fingers.

***

By the time they had gotten midway through the day, Altaïr was already cracking at the seams. He couldn't make a beeline directly for the secret passageway down to the second floor, no matter how much he wanted to. Malik had been giving little pleased smiles (pointedly at the flowers, not at him) all through class and making his heart flutter every time. If he couldn't get a second alone to kiss his fucking boyfriend, Altaïr was going to go insane.

Malik caught on anyway, steering away from the main stairs without Altaïr having to say a word. He was talking about the Runes essay he had due later that week in a way that was clearly intended to be space filler, so Altaïr let the words fade into comforting white noise. He made affirmative noises at the right times, used to the steady rise and fall of Malik's tone as he more-or-less monologued.

By the time they reached the tapestry hiding the entrance, the hallway had emptied around them. Altaïr dared to reach out and grab Malik's hand. The bright smile Malik turned on him when he threaded their fingers together made his heart skip in his chest. He sped up, towing Malik along behind him, shoving the tapestry aside with more force than necessary.

"Slow down!" Malik laughed.

The lack of light in the passage left him briefly blinded, operating mostly on muscle memory to pull Malik forward without running into a wall. If they had twenty feet or so of distance, they'd be hidden enough and Altaïr could finally kiss him.

When his vision adjusted, he froze. Just ahead of them in the corridor (twenty feet from the entrance that's enough space not to get caught) were two other students - a boy and a girl, a couple years younger than them - locked at the lips. He dropped Malik's hand like it had burned him, and he must have made some sort of noise because they suddenly sprang apart, staring at him.

Oh fuck they had seen them. Anyone could have seen. Other people used this passage. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

"So much for that shortcut," he distantly heard Malik huff, through the ringing in his ears. There was a hand tugging at his elbow, pulling him back out into the sunlight. "C'mon Altaïr, don't be a creep."

Anyone could have seen them. Altaïr would've been too wrapped up in Malik to notice. How many times had he closed his eyes in hidden corridors, trusting that they were alone?

His head was full of static. Everything was too loud but indistinct and blurry. Malik was talking but he couldn't make out the words. He dug his fingers into the fabric of his robes. It didn't help. The only solid thing in the world was Malik's steadfast grip on his arm, tugging him forward.

They could've seen anything. Altaïr kissing Malik, fuck, Altaïr on his knees. Everyone would know, his grandfather would find out. A blasting hex would be the least of his worries, with a stain on the family name like that-

"Oi, habibi!"

Altaïr startled. They had stopped walking, and Malik was snapping his fingers in front of Altaïr's face, looking at him with poorly disguised concern. The floor was swaying beneath him, shit they were on one of the moving staircases how the hell had they gotten there. He surreptitiously glanced around them, at all the other people on the landings and other flights of stairs. "Don't say that here!" he hissed.

"Unless half the school became fluent in Arabic overnight, I think we're fine," Malik said dryly.

Altaïr blinked. On second thought, fair. The tone of voice Malik had used was more in tune with calling him shithead than darling (though with Malik the line between insult and term of endearment had always been very thin).

"Are you okay?" Malik asked, stepping back to a more respectable distance.

Altaïr clutched onto the banister as the stairs began to pivot. He didn't want to lie to Malik, but the weight of the proverbial gaze of the entire school kept him from admitting just how shaken he felt. He settled for a wobbly so-so gesture and whatever the hell his face was doing.

"I can spin Berg some excuse if you need to go back to the dorm."

The offer was tempting, but he knew Malik couldn't join him if Altaïr didn't want anyone to suspect anything, especially not today of all days. Sitting alone with his thoughts for a few hours would probably be a bad idea right now, at least going to Alchemy would give him something to do with his hands. "No," he cleared his throat. "No, I'm good."

Malik's flat look clearly expressed his doubt on that front. "Am I going to regret handing you a knife?"

"I'm fine, Malik. I'm not going to cut off a finger."

Malik's face contorted as he tried to fight a smile. "You're not funny, novice."

***

Alchemy helped, for the most part. With a little breathing space, his panic felt slightly ridiculous (his grandfather had been dead for months, he wasn't sure why his brain had jumped to that). No one had stumbled across the two of them, or there would have been rumours or gossip or worse. Instead, Katerina was trying to bat her eyelashes at him from across the room, looking rather like she had been hit with a twitching jinx, while he was struggling not to stare too blatantly at Malik.

The heat and humidity in the Alchemy classroom worked unfairly well for him. With his sleeve pushed up and his hair mussed and his dark eyes focused intently on wandlessly adjusting the flame beneath their cauldron, he looked a bit like if a fire elemental had a ridiculously gorgeous human form. Altaïr, in comparison, felt a bit like a drowned rat. (A drowned rat that really should be paying more attention to the herbs he was mincing; if he actually injured himself, Malik would be pissed and worried and also would never ever let him live it down.)

Malik straightened, content with the temperature, and reached past Altaïr to write something down. Malik had been the dedicated notetaker in Alchemy for basically forever - for a myriad of reasons, including but not limited to the weird language of symbols he used to delineate changes in fire spells that only made sense to him, his handwriting was generally neater, and the fact that Altaïr never remembered to bring pencils instead of quills on Alchemy days. The problem was that he was so close Altaïr could feel the heat of him, and on any other day that would only be mildly distracting. On any other day Altaïr wouldn't feel quite as flayed open, equal parts desperate for contact and terrified of being too close. It just wasn't fair.

"Those, then the moth wings, then the gold dust. Ninety seconds between each of them," Malik muttered, reading out of the textbook. It snapped Altaïr back to the task at hand.

He frowned. "Shouldn't that be gold dust first? For stabilization?"

"Quote-" Malik flipped a few pages. "Nicholas Flamel, goddammit, gold dust is last."

Altaïr knew the rant that was brewing there quite well - he internally called it the "you idiots have trains (why is progress scary to you)" rant, after a particularly inspired rendition several years ago. Malik probably had three or four multi-hour lectures worth of content for it in his back pocket at all times. As entertaining as it usually was, Altaïr was still puzzling out the gold dust thing. "No, shush," he said, running back through the contents of their cauldron in his head.

The look Malik leveled him with would have caught a lesser man's hair on fire. Altaïr was more than willing to blame the heat in his cheeks on that. (It was, on occasion, reassuring that his taste in women was not so diametrically different from his attraction to Malik. This was not one of those times.)

"It shouldn't mess up the xanthosization, if anything it'll give us a wider window. Three minutes, maybe four?" Now that Altaïr thought about it, they could probably rework the whole recipe, cut the brewing time, maybe improve the potency?

"Makes sense," Malik said, jolting him out of his scheming. He dropped the bag of gold dust next to Altaïr's hand, where he hadn't realized he started drumming his fingers against the table.

Altaïr glanced up at Berg, who was standing across the room, scowling at another student's cauldron, and not paying them any attention whatsoever. Perfect.

"Don't fuck up," Malik said in an undertone, as he scattered the gold dust into the steaming liquid. The slight curl of his smile belied the severity of his words.

"Gee, thanks." Altaïr thought he did remarkably well at keeping his voice even, though Malik would probably be the only one who would notice. It took all of his concentration not to fumble into an overpour, with the way his heart was hammering. Malik was moving over to his right, grabbing the herbs, leaning into Altaïr's shoulder as he did. He was so close, Altaïr could slide an arm around his waist and hold him. Maybe if he was quick, no one would notice him kissing Malik's cheek. Maybe they could-

Maybe he needed to add the moth wings.

Malik plucked the stirring stick out of his hand when he did, taking over now that he was empty-handed. Altaïr could see his pinky twitch as the fire beneath the cauldron grew steadily, until the elixir was hot enough to bubble merrily.

They had half an hour or so until the filtration step, which left them sprawled in the chairs around their clean workstation. Malik had pulled out the project notebook and, based on the runes scrawled all over the pages, was trying to sort out the last set of enchantments for the map. Altaïr was tilted back in his chair, twisting his sash over his fingers since Rosa had glared at him when he was audibly tapping a few minutes ago. (And wasn't that interesting, how when it was Rosa it was just kind of uncomfortable, but when it was Malik it made him want to- nope.)

He had counted the number of cracks in this part of the ceiling months ago, and though he had a History essay he could be editing he deeply did not want to. He couldn't really help Malik - while Altaïr could probably pass a Runes exam based solely on several years of listening to Malik chattering about it, that didn't mean he could make heads or tails of whatever hellish combination of that and numerology that Malik had been beating his head against for months. Something about a youclid and a quantum whatsit? It made his head hurt, was the point. And trying also ran the risk of someone noticing the amount of enamored staring he would inevitably devolve into once he stopped being able to say anything meaningful.

Their elixir had been getting bluer by the minute but wasn't done yet. Which left looking blankly around the room, avoiding making eye contact with Berg lest he decide Altaïr looked too bored and made him grade essays or something. No one was doing much of anything interesting, only one other pair hadn't gotten to the simmering stage yet, but they weren't messing up in any interesting ways. Katerina had been distracted by her brewing partner, at least, so she wasn't trying to convince him to... canoodle with her or something. Whatever that couple in the corner was doing whenever Berg wasn't looking directly at them - Altaïr was not going to examine them closely enough to check. Though, speaking of-

"Hey, Malik?"

Malik glanced up at him, twirling his pencil around in his hand.

"Why didn't you tell off those kids, in the corridor?"

It took a couple blinks for Malik to catch where his train of thought had wandered. "It would be a pretty futile endeavor? I mean it is Valentines," he said, as if Altaïr were particularly oblivious. As if he hadn't been the reason for the flowers tucked into Malik's bag, as if seeing every couple in the castle didn't feel like they were flaunting it in Altaïr's face, as if it didn't make him want to scream. "They'd just go make out somewhere else." He shrugged.

Wasn't that the point? Altaïr thought but could not say. It wasn't like kicking them out would have stopped him from spiraling, but at least away from prying eyes Malik could have held him. "It's definitely not allowed, though," he said petulantly.

"They weren't doing any harm," Malik's tone softened. He flicked his gaze deliberately over to his schoolbag, with the roses peeking out from where they sat just inside the flap.

And Altaïr knew that logically. They hadn't set out to hurt him, to mess with his brain. They were not unlike the two of them, looking for a safe place away from prying eyes, and clever enough to know at least a couple secret passages. If Altaïr hadn't been so in his own head they probably could have just passed each other in the dark, not a notable encounter in the slightest.

"Besides," the corners of Malik's mouth tipped up ever so slightly, "I'd be a massive hypocrite if I did."

Altaïr was very glad for the roaring flames masking the flush in his cheeks.

***

The rest of the day dragged on. When they finally made it back to the dormitory that evening, Altaïr could barely wait for the door to be shut before he was pushing Malik up against it to kiss him. Malik breathed a laugh into his mouth and tugged him closer, draping his arm around Altaïr's shoulders. He tasted like sunshine, like warmth and fire and home.

Altaïr only broke the kiss when air became an issue, leaning back just far enough to notice Malik's breathless grin. He was sure it was mirrored on his own face.

"Holding that in all day, were you?"

"Yeah," he croaked. His cheeks heated with the heady mix of embarrassment and arousal he found all-too-common around Malik.

And he knew it was his own fault, that there was a very simple solution to this problem. If the idea didn't scare him so badly, they could have spent the whole day hand in hand, sneaking kisses in alcoves without caring if others knew.

Malik didn't bring it up at least, despite the easy opening to mock him. He just kissed Altaïr again, slow and deep, stealing the breath from his lungs. One of his hands slid down Malik's torso to clutch at his hip, his fingers fitting into place like they belonged there. Like his hands were crafted to fit Malik, and vice versa.

The idea of soulmates had seemed silly from the mouth (quill?) of a stranger that morning. It seemed a little bit less so now. Soul magic didn't work like that (he knew in excruciating detail how little it worked like that), but Altaïr knew without a shadow of a doubt that Malik would be the other half of him if it did. He felt more calm than he had all day, having wasted the morning tying himself up in knots over the flowers.

Speaking of... "They were okay? They weren't..." too much not enough somehow both. He asked, when they separated again.

It took Malik a few seconds to catch up. "Oh, the flowers." He smiled. "They were very sweet. Thoroughly unnecessary, but sweet."

Altaïr blinked. "Unnecessary?"

Malik let go of his shoulder to cradle his face. "You don't need to give me flowers to keep me, habibi. I'm already here." He kissed Altaïr's nose.

"That's not, I don't..." he trailed off, struggling to phrase the feeling that had been clanging around his head the whole week. Malik waited for him, held him tight and didn't bat an eye when the implication of his gaze became too much and Altaïr had to bury his face in Malik's shoulder. "...I just, I want to do more than just necessary. I want to do this right, I guess?"

"So which phase of doing it right is breaking blood curses, exactly? In case it comes up," Malik said. Altaïr couldn't see his face from this angle, but he could perfectly picture his shit-eating grin.

He jabbed Malik in the side, making him twitch and curse at him. "You know what I mean," Altaïr grumbled.

"I can't say I do, actually."

"Maliiiiiik," he whined.

"Should I expect a candlelight dinner and rose petals next year?"

Altaïr snickered, but he couldn't help but get stuck on that thought. It felt a little crazy, talking about next year as something attainable. Making plans with the expectation that the world wouldn't burn down in the interim, and there being an actual chance of being right. "...Yeah," he mumbled into Malik's jaw, "next year."

"Novice, that was a joke, don't-"

"Too late"

"Altaïr-"

"'M gonna romance the shit out of you." It was starting to take form in his head, an image of when they'd have their own space and he wouldn't have to smother his feelings outside these four walls.

Malik let out a massive sigh and let his head thunk back against the door. "Why do I have a feeling I'll regret this."

Altaïr pulled back so he could kiss him again. "Because you're being melodramatic?" he teased.

"Rude. Also, hypocrite."

"I have never once acted like flower petals were the end of the world."

"They're not the end of the world, I'll just genuinely be annoyed with you if you fling them around."

Altaïr squinted at him, attempting to make sense of that logic. Malik was deeply opinionated, sure, but there was usually at least some amount of internal consistency in those opinions. For the life of him, Altaïr could not parse how rose petals were that meaningfully different from roses themselves.

Maybe it was another don't treat me like a girl thing? But that missed the point, that when Altaïr imagined a nebulous future, a place that he shared with someone, where the idea of scattering rose petals on their bed felt indulgent instead of fake and performative, there had only ever been Malik in that image. (Truthfully, even just the idea of sharing a bed with someone long-term had been only Malik in his head for an embarrassingly long time.) "...what?"

"It's messy, and wasteful, for something that looks nice for what? Thirty seconds?"

"I... magic? You're a fucking wizard, Malik, come on." Malik's insistence on ignoring magic as a solution still blindsided him sometimes.

"That's still wasteful!"

"How?!" Altaïr fished his wand out of this sleeve to better make his point... somehow, and realized halfway through that nothing was stopping him from demonstrating right that moment. Unfortunately, Malik could read him like a book and immediately made a grab for it.

Any advantage Altaïr may have had by being right-handed (and therefore giving Malik fuckall for leverage), was swiftly countered by the fact that Malik had never once fought fair in his goddamn life. Malik dragged him into a truly filthy kiss, which made it difficult to focus on much of anything except Malik's tongue in his mouth, Malik's body pressed against his. Malik's fingers sunk into his hair, lightly tugging with just the right amount of pressure to make Altaïr's brain go fuzzy. A moan bubbled out of his throat, entirely against his will, as he melted into it.

Altaïr's hands fumbled of their own accord, clinging to Malik's shoulders, dragging him closer by the small of his back. He wasn't sure how exactly he could get closer, only that he needed to. That every inch of distance was unbearable, with how his blood was singing in his veins.

Malik shifted slightly, and Altaïr dimly realized he had been played when his wand was knocked out of his grip. Faced with the decision of letting it drop or letting go of Malik, he opted to pin his boyfriend harder against the door. Finding his wand - wherever it rolled after he heard it hit the floor - in the morning would be annoying, but if Malik stopped touching him Altaïr might actually die.

Altaïr pulled his lips back just a hairsbreadth, Malik nipping at him as he went. "You're an asshole," he panted.

He couldn't physically see Malik's eyeroll, but it was thoroughly implied. "Pot, cauldron." Altaïr was a bit appeased that Malik sounded just as out of breath as he did.

He kissed Malik again, just because. One kiss turned into two, turned into more, turned into Altaïr pressing his hips flush with Malik's, devouring the quiet groan that came out of his mouth. Kissing Malik was unfairly distracting. "Just because you're hot doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"If I concede to the dinner date will you shut up about the fucking petals? Oh my god." Malik growled at him.

Altaïr was tempted to ask Malik to convince him, but knew that was the kind of incentive that would make Malik turn him into a little puddle of goo on the floor. While that was a very appealing prospect, he did have a point to make. "Depends, will you let me be romantic or will you bitch about it the whole time?"

"I can multitask."

"Malik."

"Yes, fine," Malik huffed. "I will let you be as sappy as you like on this hypothetical dinner date that would require being out in public."

Altaïr watched Malik wince as his conscience caught up with his mouth. It happened more often than people thought; Altaïr did wonder sometimes whether Malik's instinct to poke and prod and needle was actually stronger than his instinct to breathe. The criticism wasn't completely out of line, though. If Altaïr had been frustrated with how the day went, it must have been eight times worse for Malik. He shrugged. "That's why it's next year," he said quietly.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry,"

Altaïr scattered kisses on his cheeks. "Don't worry about it."

"You really don't need-"

Altaïr cradled his face in both palms, looking him dead in the eyes. "Malik, I want to," he said. "I just... I can't. Right now."

Malik's gaze was so fond it made his teeth ache. "I don't want to rush you, is all."

Altaïr had no way to put it into words, that the tightrope he was fumbling across was in no way Malik's fault. That it was his own fear and chagrin that had him stuck like this, and he was so sick of being stuck. He desperately wanted to wake up one morning, forward in time to where it was all out in the open and whatever chaos that caused had blown over. "You're not," he said, glancing away, but it seemed deeply inadequate. "Besides, where would we even go right now?"

"If you take me to that awful cafe that is allegedly the height of romance, I will break up with you on the spot."

Altaïr laughed. "No, no way. I can still smell the incense in my nightmares."

"Eugh, I had forgotten about that part. Why is everything magicside like this."

"Yeah... it might have to be somewhere over the line," he admitted. Malik had been thoroughly right about it being less terrifying over there, where no one knew his name or his family or what he had done. Where he could just be Malik's boyfriend Altaïr, one person in a sea of strangers. "But I'll get there, by next year. Promise."

Malik smiled at him so softly, brushed his fingers over Altaïr's cheek. If he kept looking at Altaïr like that he was going to break in half. He looked like he was about to say something, was deliberately choosing how to say it best, which with Malik usually only took milliseconds.

Altaïr had a pretty strong suspicion of what it could be, and headed it off at the pass the second Malik opened his mouth. "If you say 'I don't have to' one more time I swear to Merlin I'll-"

Malik's snort of laughter cut him off. "I was going to say I love you, birdbrain."

"Oh." Altaïr could feel the heat flood his cheeks.

"Yeah, oh." Malik pressed a kiss to his jaw, then another. "You going to finish that threat?"

Altaïr, who hadn't really planned the end of that sentence even as it was coming out of his own mouth, shrugged.

"I mean... you don't have to finish it..." Malik said.

At which point Altaïr had no choice but bodily picking him up - ignoring Malik's startled squawk and flailing of limbs - and crossing the room to toss him onto the bed.

"I feel very discouraged, bravo." Malik's tone was undercut by his barely suppressed giddy laughter. "Get over here."

And when he tugged Altaïr down on the bed with him, Altaïr couldn't say he minded in the slightest.

#altmal #skies au #they are so fucking gay jesus christ #for context they've been together for like 4-5 months #and have been *deeply* codependent for 4+ years #altair: yes the only person I could see myself living with long term is my bestie this is very normal and heterosexual of me #malik; head in hands: I am going to scream #altaïr ibn la’ahad #altaïr ibn la'ahad #altair ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #autistic altair ibn la'ahad #you can pry autistic altair from my cold dead hands #assassins creed #assassin's creed #words that mean things #i should put this on ao3 shouldn't i

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martianbugsbunny · 1 year

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Martian’s Masterlist!

Figured it was about time I collected all of my fics into one area, will ofc be updating it as I write more. It’s sorted by ship, including wherefrom they originate, with a brief description of what type (one-shot, chapter fic, same-universe if I’m feeling saucy) and a short summary of what happens. V proud of myself for figuring out how to link these tbh, but if any of the links isn’t working for the love of Pete please let me know. Fics with more than one chapter will be linked to the first chapter because...logic.

For the tags, I have chosen to only use the ship names, not __ x __ format, for the sake of trying to keep the tags somewhat in hand. I have, however, tried to use what I’m aware of being the most popular/common names for ships, as well as the alternate ones I’ve seen for more niche stuff. Also tagged are the shipped characters. If I add new ships, I'll have to reblog bc of the tag limit.

*Hands you the rabbit hole* Have fun going down!

CaptainCroc/GoldenHook (Rumplestiltskin x Killian Jones {Once Upon A Time}):

Is This Love Persevering? (It Feels More Like The End of the World): One-shot. Established CaptainCroc mourning the loss of Baelfire. Canon-divergent for the sake of Rumple actually getting to attend his son’s funeral.

Who Makes You See Color: Chapter fic, 14 total. CaptainCroc soulmates AU where one person sees color earlier than the other. Extends from pre-Dark One era to the First Curse being broken.

The Truth Echoes Darkly: Short series; part 1 for The Truth Echoes Darkly. Echo Caves AU where instead of Emma, Hook confesses that he loves Rumple for maximum awkward.

The Echo Goes On: Short series; part 2 for The Truth Echoes Darkly. Back in Storybrooke, Rumple finds himself obsessed with Hook and realizes that he’s fallen in love as well.

My North Star: One-shot. Established CaptainCroc vow renewal, featuring Hook’s inner thoughts about how much he loves Rumple.

Better Than Blood: One-shot. Pretty racy, but the point is thinking about the poeticism of having sex with your ex-nemesis.

Cherik (Charles Xavier x Erik Lehnsherr {X-Men Movies}):

Sweetheart Will You Sleep With Me: One-shot. The night before they fight Shaw, Charles and Erik make the most of the little time they know they have left together and sleep in Charles’ room. Fluff, don’t get too excited by the title lol.

Baby While You’re At It: One-shot. Based on a Jessie Murph song. Angst with a happy ending. Charles is furious when Erik crashes a party at the school, so they have it out in the kitchen and get more-or-less back together by the end.

Espionage Husbands (Talos x Nick Fury {Captain Marvel/Secret Invasion}):

Locked In This Embrace: One-shot. Focuses on the forehead-touching scene from Episode 1, plus an original scene or two afterwards. Mostly Talos pining for Nick with a happy ending.

If You Are Gilgamesh And Did These Things: One-shot. Angst without a happy ending because the author was very upset and sad when Talos died. Nick is grieving Talos; Sonya isn’t helping.

Frankenwolf (Ruby Lucas x Victor Frankenstein {Once Upon A Time}):

Den of Blankets: One-shot. Ruby’s wolf instincts kick in during pregnancy and she builds a blanket-fort den. V fluff.

She Deserves To Have Your Name: One-shot (possibly same-universe as Den of Blankets). Victor has doubts about whether or not their child should have the name Frankenstein, but Ruby wouldn’t hear of anything else.

It’s Just A Dream: One-shot. Ruby has a nightmare spawned from her fears of being a bad parent; Victor comforts her.

As The Storm Blows Through: One-shot. Victor has anxiety during a storm because of what happened with Gerhardt, and Ruby comforts him.

Secret Admirers Are For The Subtle: One-shot. Victor anonymously sends Ruby flowers at the diner so he can drop by, “notice” them, and stick around to sketch them, all so he can spend time with Ruby. She’s on to him the entire time.

Blue Skies Smiling At Me: One-shot. Utterly fluffy beach fic. Ruby is having a good day relaxing with her friends, and it only gets better when her handsome husband joins them.

Frankenberry And The Fruit Brute: One-shot. Fun little Halloween fic where Ruby and Victor discover the General Mills cereals that match their fairytale identities.

Precursor To A Love Song: One-shot. Hyperion Heights AU where Ruby and Victor meet and feel an instant connection, even though they don’t know why. She’s a fashion designer and he’s a piano player/freelance artist. Potential springboard for a full chapter fic if I feel like it.

HatterHare (Mad Hatter x March Hare {Adventures In Wonderland}):

The First Kiss: One-shot. Just a fluffy lil idea about what their first kiss might’ve been like.

Every Bit Of You: One-shot. Projection’n’stuff about food issues basically.

Kalluzeb (Garazeb Orrelios x Alexsandr Kallus {Star Wars Rebels}):

Don’t You Know It’s Because He Loves You?: One-shot. Kallus discovers that Zeb is in love with him via a Lasat Honor Guard tradition.

To Convince You That I Love You: Chapter fic. Kallus does risky things to prove he would do anything for love of Zeb, or that he’s worthy of him, and ends up getting hurt. Angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort.

Lokius (Loki x Mobius {Loki}):

The Man Of My Dreams And He’s Just Out Of Reach: One-shot (with a very long name lol). Mobius stands there across the street from Don’s house and misses Loki. Author was having some Feelings™.

Outlaw Queen (Regina Mills x Robin Hood {Once Upon A Time}):

A Slice Of Life: One-shot. Regina spends the day with her boys and thinks about how awesome it is to have them. V fluffy because the OQ family didn’t get enough of that.

Paxe/AxePaz (Paz Vizsla x Axe Woves {The Mandalorian}):

We Are Mandalorians: Our Love Must Be Forged: Chapter fic, 11 total. Axe and Paz slowly fall in love as they engage in the battle to retake Mandalore, more or less a fix-it for Paz dying in S3 canon.

PloKit (Plo Koon x Kit Fisto {Star Wars: the Clone Wars}):

Reader, Plo Married Him: One-shot. Plo and Kit share some quiet time just after their wedding.

The Tender Daily Ritual: One-shot. Basically just fluff; Kit helps Plo with lotioning his skin because it dries out in oxygen atmospheres.

Scogan (Scott Summers x Logan Howlett {X-Men Movies}):

Torn Between Love And Fear: One-shot. Scott wants to stay after sex and sleep in Logan’s room, but Logan is terrified of hurting him during a nightmare. Angst with a happy (and sort of spicy) ending.

You Scratch My Back, I’ll Scratch Yours: One-shot. Logan and Scott discover they have a mutual pain kink and indulge in it together for the first time. Incredibly spicy, I'm so proud of myself.

Spones (Spock x Dr. McCoy {Star Trek TOS}):

I Could Drink A Case Of You (I Would Still Be On My Feet): One-shot. Based on a Joni Mitchell song; angsty with a happy ending.

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toadspondofwhimsy · 1 month

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Wildflower -- Charlie Bradbury

SUMMARY: Cas and Dean can’t stand to see their best friend single any more, so they set them up on a blind date with their other friend, Charlie. PAIRING: Charlie Bradbury x gn!Original Character WARNINGS: OC pairing, I’m hella rusty at writing WORD COUNT: ~1.2k A/N: I haven’t written something non-academic in a long ass time, so pls be easy on me friends. Also, this format thing is also new to me :) divider cred: thecutestgrotto

The lighting in the bar was dim, but Phoenix could still make out the forms of their two best friends holding each other and gently swaying on the dance floor. Currently, they were slumped over seated at the bar nursing a lukewarm beer. They only came out tonight because of the staunch begging from their oldest friend Dean and a promise from their most angelic friend Castiel that they definitely will not be third wheeling. Here they were, watching their friends be grossly in love while they themself had zero prospects. Yippee!

A few songs passed and Phoenix had to look away from the sickening scene, if they saw Cas’ trench coat twirl around him one more time, surely they’d barf. They flagged down the bartender and ordered a vodka cran and requested it be put on Dean’s tab. If he complained they’ll just remind him about his better half’s promise and the credit card fraud.

Another round. Another round. Another round. Phoenix drank their sorrows trying to drown out the sound of their lovesick heart. They always put personal connections on the back burner as a sacrifice for the job. It��s just something you do to protect the ones you care about, don’t get too close and they can’t be harmed by this week’s big bad. After Phoenix had a few drinks, Dean and Cas returned to the bar, smiling and giggly, like they both just got asked to prom. Phoenix couldn’t help but smile at their love despite their jealousy. No one could deny how cute they were as a pair with Dean’s gruffness and Cas’ aloof stare, who wouldn’t adore them?

“What’s up?” Dean asked taking a seat at the bar, “Whatchu drinkin’?”

“Oh you know, just sitting here by myself while my friends ditch me to be in love,” Phoenix answered laying the guilt on thick, “vodka cran.”

“Sorry, we got carried away,” Cas apologized sounding as sincere as he could in this moment.

“Plus, I think I know how we can fix this,” Dean called over the bartender to order another round, “Cas tell ‘em”

“We have a friend, Charlie, we can set you two up on a date. She’ll be visiting next week.” Cas explained.

Phoenix’s interest was piqued, they turned their attention to Cas, “tell me more.”

Cas continued talking about his friend and Dean jumped in with some funny anecdotals. All in all Charlie seemed like a pretty cool person to get to know. Even if nothing romantic came of it, Phoenix would certainly love to be friends with this person.

A few weeks later Phoenix stood outside the art gallery nervously clutching a bundle of wildflowers. Their eyes scanned every passerby for a violet pinned to her shirt, that’s what Dean told them to look out for. Phoenix told Dean that they’d be the one wearing a denim vest with an impossible amount of patches on it.

Their eyes lit up when they noticed the red headed woman standing on the other side of the entrance with a violet pinned to her t-shirt looking around. Phoenix couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, she’s gorgeous, they thought to themself as they walked over. Charlie glanced over at them as they approached her.

Charlie smiled as their eyes scanned over Phoenix’s vest. ‘That really is a lot of patches,’ Charlie thought to herself. She pointed at the wildflowers, “Phoenix?”

“Well, actually I’m Phoenix, these are flowers,” Phoenix held the flowers out to Charlie with a sheepish grin, “for you.”

Charlie chuckled, it sounded like music to Phoenix’s ears, “Thank you.” She took the flowers into her hands and looked them over admiring the many blooms. “These are beautiful.”

“Almost as beautiful as you,” Phoenix responded, “shall we go inside?” Phoenix held their arm out and Charlie linked hers through theirs.

“Totally! I’ve been so excited for this gallery,” Charlie spoke the excitement clear in her voice.

The two walked inside together arm in arm and Phoenix listened intently as Charlie told them everything she knew about the artist being showcased at this gallery. Phoenix couldn’t help but smile at her as she spoke, her knowledge and confidence to share it warmed their heart. All the first date jitters washed away from them as they walked deeper into the gallery.

Charlie had shifted topics now and was speaking about queer art history in general. Phoenix stopped walking in front of a large painting of two brightly colored ambiguous human figures leaned into each other with dark muted colors swirling around them in the background. They felt breathless looking at this painting as their eyes scanned over it rapidly taking in every element.

Charlie stopped speaking when they noticed what had captured Phoenix’s rapt attention. She glanced over at the painting and saw it for what it was, beautiful, but it didn’t quite hold her attention as much as Phoenix did. She rather watch Phoenix, their face holding a look of wonder as they stared up at what they would describe as a masterpiece.

Charlie leaned into Phoenix bumping their shoulder with her own. Phoenix looked down at her and smiled brightly, “sorry, I was just enamored. What were you saying?”

Charlie shook her head, “No, no, don’t be sorry. It was cute.” She had her own smile that matched Phoenix’s.

Phoenix’s heart sang as they held Charlie’s gaze. Never in a million years did they think Cas and Dean would be good matchmakers, look at how long it took the both of them to realize the intensity of their affections for each other. Though here Phoenix was standing in front of Charlie with a stupid grin permanently plastered to their face. They could listen to her info dump all night in fact they welcomed it, adored it even. Phoenix turned so their body was now facing Charlie’s and she followed suit. Phoenix’s heart hammered in their chest as they admired the soft wave of Charlie’s hair as it framed her face.

A soft pink blush creeped up on Charlie’s cheeks. She felt bashful at Phoenix’s admiration of her. Charlie took a step closer to them, slowly closing the distance between them. Phoenix felt a frenzy of butterflies come to life as Charlie moved closer to them. They wrapped an arm around Charlie’s waist and pulled her closer, eliminating the distance between them, “this okay?”

“Does Princess Leia steal and plant Imperial blueprints in R2-D2’s memory?” Charlie answered, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

Phoenix laughed, a sweet sound to Charlie’s ears, causing her to laugh as well. They were both quickly smitten with each other. Phoenix gently brushed a loose strand of Charlie’s hair behind her ear and whispered, “can I kiss you?”

“A million times yes,” Charlie answered with a sweet smile on her face.

Phoenix leaned in and pressed their lips against Charlie’s, pulling her into a soft kiss. Charlie leaned into them, her heart racing as she kissed them back with everything inside of her.

When they pulled away from each other, lips pink, and chests heaving, they shared a look.

“Wanna get outta here?” Phoenix breathed, their voice low and heady.

Charlie nodded her head as her eyes raked over Phoenix’s body, practically undressing them with her eyes, “let’s go.” Charlie took Phoenix’s hand into hers and led them outside to her vehicle.

#charlie bradbury #charlie bradbury fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #charlie bradbury fluff #lesbian supernatural #spn #charlie bradbury x gn!oc #toadwrites

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spaceagebachelormann · 2 years

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Hi! I love your writing and had a request!

Neville Longbottom x gn!hufflepuff!reader, a lot of people write him as the one that admires reader from afar while reader is also seen as “perfect”, But I would like it reversed! Reader is the one that likes to admire Neville from afar because they think he’s so pretty and smart and kind. They both have herbology together but reader is close to failing the class so the professor sets up Neville to be their tutor. Reader can’t help but be distracted the entire time when Neville is actually trying to tutor them so they have to keep meeting. But plot twist it was readers plan the whole time just so they have an excuse to be around him and get to know him. One day reader can’t take it anymore a just straight up kisses him when he’s in the middle of a lesson because they think he’s just too cute when he talks about something he’s passionate about. Reader then confesses about everything and they end up together and it’s just cute and fluffy <3

TUTOR - NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: harry potter

ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: long/short fic

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: goblet of fire spoilers

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUMMARY: luna devises a plan to get her best friends together

masterlist || harry potter masterlist || navigation

“Y/N, would you stay for a moment after class?” Professor Sprout asked, making eye contact with the young Hufflepuff from across the room.

“Of course, professor!” Y/N responded, before returning to their Herbology notes.

They were so close to failing the class. A few more times of messing up their assignments and they were for sure in trouble. For years now, Y/N had been doing everything they could to get their grade up, but nothing seemed to be working. Luckily, this did not go unnoticed by her classmates.

Luna Lovegood, Y/Ns best friend, had been worried about their grade for weeks. She offered her notes, took her on study dates, and was doing everything she could to help, but nothing seemed to be working.

Her other Hufflepuff classmates also tried to help. Before Cedric Diggory had… you know, he attempted to tutor Y/N. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.

However, Luna was friends with Neville Longbottom. Neville was an extremely gifted Herbologist. Luna knew for sure he could help Y/N.

And, to make things better, Luna knew of Y/N’s gigantic crush on Neville, and knew exactly what to do.

“Professor?” She asked, stepping up to Professor Sprout with a grin on her face.

“Yes, Miss Lovegood?” The plump woman responded, turning her body and head towards her and offering a smile.

Luna pointed at her best friend, who was desperately flipping through their notes, “My friend, Y/N, they’re just so close to failing this class. I’ve tried anything and everything I could, offering my notes, asking other friends to offer their notes, but nothing seems to be helping.”

The professor raised a brow at the blonde girl, indicating for her to go on.

“Neville Longbottom. He’s a brilliant Herbologist. A couple years ago, I myself was failing this class, do you recall? He was a lovely tutor, he’s the reason I’m still so good at Herbology. I was thinking he could tutor Y/N. He may be the only person who can save them at this point.”

The older woman nodded slowly. Perhaps this was the only way Y/N could pull themselves out of the dirt.

She smiled at Luna brightly. “That’s a wonderful idea! At first, I was just going to assign some homework, but yes, I think Mr. Longbottom is a great idea. Thank you, Miss Lovegood.”

Luna smiled back at the professor, “No problem.”

And with that lovely news, she skipped back to Y/N, and the two began to talk.

Soon enough, the class was over. Luna and Professor Sprout made eye contact as the blonde girl walked out, being reminded of the two students she needed to speak to.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Y/N asked, nervously wringing their hands together as their chest pinched with fear.

“Mr. Longbottom, come here for a moment.” The professor asked, glancing between the two students.

Y/Ns heart almost stopped beating. They’d been crushing on Neville for weeks. He was so smart, and he’d always been very kind to Y/N. Always made sure to point out what they were doing wrong in Herbology if he noticed they needed help. It didn’t help that Y/N also thought he was quite pretty.

“Have you two met before?” The older woman asked politely once they were both standing beside eachother.

Y/N opened their mouth to speak, but the anxiousness has caused their throat to close up.

“Not formally.” Neville answered, glancing at them with a seemingly worried expression.

“Well, I may as well get to the point. Neville, I want you to tutor Y/N. She’s very close to failing Herbology and Luna Lovegood enlightened me that you may be able to help. Is that okay with you two?”

Of course, Y/N thought, Lunas behind this, who else would be?

“That’s perfectly fine! I don’t mind at all!” They answered way to quickly, feeling their face begin to heat up and their chest make the same familiar pinching feeling.

Neville smiled politely. “I’d love to, professor.”

The woman smiled. “Great! Now, I want you both to work out a schedule on the way to lunch. Alright?”

The students nodded, walking out together.

“So, I was thinking we could meet 3 times a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, easy to remember. What do you think?”

The boy turned his head to the person beside him, mentally noting their nervousness so he didn’t accidentally freak them out.

“That’s good. I can do that. Today’s Monday, should we meet today?” Y/N asked, turning their head away so he didn’t see their flushed cheeks, which didn’t work because he saw them immediately.

“I don’t see why not, I’ll meet you in the greenhouse at 8PM, i'll tell Professor Sprout we’re going to be there so we don’t get in trouble.”

Y/N nodded, realizing they were in the Great Hall.

Before turning on their heel and scattering away to their Hufflepuff friends, they muttered a quick thank you, and did exactly that.

“Was that Neville Longbottom?” Hannah Abbot asked excitedly.

“How did it go? What were you talking about?” Susan Bones asked right after.

Y/N breathed out happily, “He’s my Herbology tutor now! Professor Sprout asked him to help me!”

The three of them had a very long conversation about this unexpected news. Y/N didn’t see the boy from a few minutes ago staring at them.

“What are you looking at?” Ron Weasley asked, aggressively cutting his meat.

Hermione Granger followed Nevilles gaze, ending up on the Hufflepuff.

“Y/N, huh? They’re very nice, just a bit nervous all the time.” She said, now beaming with delight.

Nevilles cheeks were now flushed. “I just spoke with them, Professor Sprout asked me to be their tutor. We’re meeting tonight at 8.” He said, now also grinning.

“Good luck, Neville!” Harry Potter said, smacking his back.

As his back was turned, Neville was now oblivious to the one staring at him.

Y/N sat in the greenhouse nervously. Neville was running a bit late, and they were beginning to fear he had forgotten.

This feeling was long forgotten as the greenhouse doors burst open.

The dark-haired boy appeared in the doorway, a focused expression on his cute face, and a pile of books in his arms, and even more in a bag he had on his back.

Y/N rushed over to him, taking a few of the books in their arms. “Neville!” They exclaimed, “Put these down, open the bag, i have something to show you.” They said, while hurriedly placing the books on the table.

Neville nodded and dropped them down on the wooden surface, opening the bag for Y/N, a confused looking replacing the focused one.

They cleared their throat, and spoke clearly, “Capacious extremis.”

The bag, which was overfilled a few moments ago, expanded, making it much easier for when Neville had to carry everything back after their session.

“There,” Y/N said with an awkward smile, “that should make everything, you know, less hard to carry.”

Nevilles eyes twinkled with amazement, and he began to grin widely.

“Y/N, that was amazing! I can never remember that charm, and that was so smart of you!”

Once again, he took notice of the way Y/Ns cheeks heated up, and laughed a little.

Meanwhile, Y/N was at a loss for words, normally they could respond to compliments just fine. But, this one came from Neville, which automatically made their whole week.

“Anyways, where do you want to start?” Neville politely asked, pulling on his gardening gloves.

“We were learning about Bowtruckles, and Professor Sprout asked me to write a double sided parchment on their behaviour. I can’t find anything good enough for it though, and this is the 8th time this year I haven’t been able to write an assignment like this.”

His face lit up at the mention of Bowtruckles, very clearly excited to talk about them with somebody.

“Well,” he began, flipping through one of the books, “it’s a very peaceful and shy creature. However, if the tree it lives in is threatened, it attempts to harm the one who’s hurting the tree. If you offer woodlice, the Bowtruckle will be less angry and hostile, and you can get some wood-wand from its tree.”

He turned his gaze back towards Y/N, who was leaning on the table, listening intently and watching his face with wonder on theirs.

“Here, I’d recommend these books. They explain a whole bunch of things about Bowtruckles. Read chapters 6, 9, and 18 here, and then I can help you write that assignment.” He said, smiling at Y/N happily.

They nodded, giving a sincere and genuine thank you, which made his heart flutter, and then they grabbed the books and quickly ran back to the Hufflepuff common room.

And, this went on for weeks. Y/N and Neville meeting and trying to fix their Herbology grade.

The best parts?

A) Y/Ns grade was improving! They were understanding a bit more, and had grown a lot closer with Neville. At this point, the two of them were inseparable when they weren’t in separate classes.

B) Y/N was purposely forgetting and pretending not to understand things so she and Neville could continue meeting. It was all part of her master plan.

On this special day in April, Neville was happily talking and grinning adorably about Herbology during one of their sessions.

Y/N wasn’t listening though. They were focused on Nevilles face, and how his eyes were shining, his cheeks were flushed, and, his lips. They wanted to stand up and kiss them so badly.

They wanted to kiss Neville until they were the only thing Neville could think about.

They wanted to kiss Neville until they both couldn’t think straight.

They wanted to kiss Neville until they couldn’t breathe.

And, Neville did too. For the past weeks, it was all he wanted to do.

Sadly, Y/N was unaware of Nevilles true feelings. That wasn’t going to stop their next move though.

He was standing in front of them, leaning on the desk and rambling on and on about something. Y/N stood up, and pressed their lips against his.

And, there it was. A spark. The spark they’d both been dreaming of for months.

Neville kissed back, gently placing his hands on either side of their face, while their hands rested on his shoulders.

When they pulled away, both of their faces were flushed and they were slightly panting.

“I, uh, so i’ve kinda liked you for.. about 2 years by my best guess, and I wasnt thinking, so I kissed you. And, i’m sorry? I think?” They said, awkwardly placing their hands by their side and refusing to make eye contact.

Neville laughed, taking their cold and shaky hands in his. “I’ve liked you for awhile too. I don’t think I was ever going to tell you anytime soon though.”

Y/N rolled their eyes with a playful smile. “You’re so weird.”

“So are you.”

The session ended with no more work being done, and the two laughing and making out, and then Neville walked Y/N to the Hufflepuff common room, getting one last kiss before they went to sleep.

#harry potter #neville longbotton x reader #neville longbottom #mars writing 🧈

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