Vaporised

Ink.

Newt x reader

Angst

summary: In his last moments of clarity, Newt writes a letter to you, fearing the end as the Flare tightens its grip on his mind, but clinging to the memory of your voice.

note: this is my first time posting my writing (this was my first work that I saved in my notes app so please go easy, but do drop a comment so I know how and where to work on it)

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The paper trembles in his grip, its edges curling under the weight of the words he can't yet bring himself to write. The air feels heavy, thick with the staleness of a room too quiet, too still, like a space that has forgotten the sounds of life. He stares at the blank page, the ink from his pen bleeding softly into the grain as if it too is hesitant, afraid to stain the white with what it knows must come.

Outside, the wind howls low, a distant cry through the cracked window, but it’s your voice that haunts the silence. Not in words. No, it’s the rhythm of your laughter echoing in the back of his mind, the way it used to fill the room so effortlessly. He can still feel the ghost of your breath against his skin, cool and soft, like the first morning dew settling on a world that didn’t deserve it.

But now the warmth is gone, swept away by the creeping coldness that wraps tighter around his thoughts. The Flare, slow and cruel, coils itself deeper inside him, dragging every memory of you through a haze until your face becomes just a shadow behind his eyes. His hand jerks, trembling against his will, ink splattering onto the page like a wound freshly opened.

He should stop. Let you go before the disease takes even that—takes you from him, in the only way he has left to hold onto you.

But he can’t. Not yet.

His fingers trace the outline of your name, barely pressing down on the pen, as if he can somehow carve your presence into the moment without breaking it. He swallows against the knot in his throat, but it’s not sorrow—it’s the fear of forgetting what it felt like to have you close, to feel your hand slipping into his when words failed you both.

His chest tightens, not with pain, but with the unbearable lightness of the memories that float just beyond his reach now. The smell of the earth beneath your feet when you would walk together after the sun had sunk below the horizon, your whispered thoughts lost to the darkness around you both, shared in the space between breaths.

That’s what he’s fighting to keep, what the Flare threatens to strip away—those moments when the world fell away, and it was just you.

The pen presses harder now, the ink running in uneven lines, as though time itself is pushing him forward, rushing him to finish before he loses the strength to. The words don’t come in sentences; they are fragments, bursts of thoughts too fragile to be held together. But you will understand. You always did.

He writes of the way the sound of your voice held him together when everything else fell apart, of how your presence was the one light he chased even as the darkness grew inside him. He writes of the end, not in fear, but in the simple acceptance of what is to come, because you would want him to be honest, not heroic.

And as the ink dries, his vision blurs—not from tears, no, those dried long ago—but from the soft haze of a mind slowly unraveling. He folds the letter, pressing it to his lips, the faint taste of paper and ink bitter against his skin, a poor imitation of the warmth he remembers from you.

He leaves it on the table, a final goodbye.

Before the Flare takes him too.

So, requests?

I’m currently in the process of editing and reviewing my old works from Notes which I’ve been posting on my blog but apart from that, I don’t have any real ideas yet… so I’m open to any requests or asks to kickstart the journey. > just a reminder, I don’t write smut. If you request it, I can give you something vague but if I’m uncomfortable— I might not write it. So don’t feel robbed if you request for love-making and get the love not the making.

> I am currently learning about song fics and inspirations so I might add those in sometime soon > romance is on the table, I don’t mind writing anything with sexual tension

errr, I write for fictional characters, not real celebrities or anything BUT, if you would like to create your own character, tell me about their persona and what you’d like to see and I might just help you with that

im just going to list down some characters and fandoms I don’t mind writing for:

Marvel

Loki Laufeyson

Stephen Strange

Scott Lang

Tony Stark

Steve Rodgers

Bucky Barns

Sam Wilson

T’Challa 🤍

Thor Odinson

Charles Xavier

Hank McCoy

Erik Lensherr

others (if you ask, I could write)

Maze runner

Newt

Thomas

Minho

Aris

Gally

Frypan

Janson

others

Hunger Games

Peeta Mellark

Haymitch Abernathy

Finnick Odair

Young Coriolanus Snow (still don’t like him but heck, what’s some writing gonna do?)

others

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Cedric Diggory

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Neville Longbottom

Post Azkaban! Sirius Black

Professor! Remus Lupin

Severus Snape (both young and old— he seems like a versatile character)

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Lucius Malfoy (hate myself for this one)

others

Fantastic beasts

Newt Scamander

Albus Dumbledore

Gellert Grindelwald

Jacob Kowalski

Theseus Scamander

others

Star Wars

Anakin Skywalker

Kylo Ren/ Ben Solo

Obi Wan Kenobi (My love)

Poe Dameron

Din Djarin/ Mandalorian

Finn/ FN-2187

others

Top Gun

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson

Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin (he’s insufferable imo, but idm writing)

others

Divergent

Caleb Prior

Peter Hayes

Eric Coulter

others

No four/Tobias because there’s wayyy too many fics for him alr

Disney/Pixar (animations)

I can write for most characters from these Fandoms, especially the ones explicitly stated (because I know more about them):

>Encanto:

Bruno Madrigal

Camilo Madrigal

others

>Rio:

Blu

others

>Ratatouille:

Alfredo Linguine

Lil’ Remy 🐁

others

>Cars:

Lightning Mcqueen

Tow Mater

Finn Mcmissile (god I had the biggest crush on him)

Miles Axelrod (eh, not a huge fan of him)

Siddeley (love him too much)

others

>Finding Nemo:

Gill. (OH GOD THE CHOKEHOLD THIS FISH HAD ON ME AHZHBSJSK)

Marlin

Nemo

others

>The bad guys:

Mr Wolf/ Moe (ugh yes please)

Mr Snake

Mr piranha

Diana Foxington (a female, just this once because she’s literally amazing)

others

>Puss In boots:

puss in boots

Death— the wolf (IM NOT A FURRY I SWEAR WHY DID THEY MAKE HIM HOT)

others

>Zootopia:

Nick Wilde (duh)

others

>Madagascar:

Alex

Marty

Melvin

Skipper

Kowalski

Private

I DONT WRITE FOR ANIME, BECAUSE I DONT WATCH/ READ IT. BUT FEEL FREE TO REQUEST FOR OTHERS THAT ARENT IN THIS LIST, MAYBE I MIGHT KNOW OR IF I’M FEEING PARTICULARLY GENEROUS, I MIGHT RESEARCH ABOUT THE CHARACTER OR FANDOM

Thank you so much for the cooperation and notes all this while

-Tisayemate 🤍

New Years

Encanto x reader

fluff, comfort

Summary: On a lonely New Year’s Eve, the Madrigals bring warmth and joy, but it’s Camilo’s heartfelt care that makes her truly believe in love again.

AN: Happy new year, happy holidays! Also, this is sappy. Be warned... but I'll make sappy any time I need it, and I needed it-- so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing this.

story under the cut

The night air was crisp, a perfect blend of cool breeze and the lingering warmth of the day. From your perch on the balcony, the world below sparkled with the chaos of New Year’s Eve celebrations. In the Encanto, every home glowed with lights and laughter, the air heavy with the scent of roasted arepas and sweet empanadas. The Madrigals’ Casita, as always, stood out like a beacon of magic and life, bursting with energy. Yet here you were, leaning on the cold wrought-iron railing, a quiet observer in a sea of joy.

From your vantage point, you could see families giggling as they ducked under tables to eat their twelve grapes, one for each wish. Couples leaned into each other, their faces lit by the promise of midnight fireworks. And you? You were alone. No grapes, no kisses, just the sharp sting of solitude wrapped in a world full of celebration.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, the sound quickly carried away by the distant hum of music and chatter. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for them—the Madrigals, the villagers, everyone—but it was hard not to feel the weight of loneliness pressing on your chest. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, wishing, just for a moment, that someone would notice the quiet shadow you cast.

And then, like magic—or perhaps because it was the Encanto—they did.

“What are you doing out here, all by yourself?” Mirabel’s voice rang out, soft yet inquisitive, as she leaned against the balcony doorframe. Her round glasses glinted in the dim light, and her wide smile carried an infectious warmth.

You turned, startled, only to see her stepping closer, holding out a small cup of warm chocolate. “You can’t spend New Year’s like this,” she said gently. “Come on, at least have some hot chocolate with me.”

A bit later, Luisa found you sitting by yourself in a quiet corner of the Casita. She didn’t say much—she didn’t need to. Instead, she handed you a heavy woolen blanket, freshly warmed from the hearth, and sat nearby, her calm presence a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone.

Isabela, ever the perfectionist, passed by next, pausing to tuck a newly conjured flower into your hair. “There,” she said with a soft smile. “You’re part of the party now.” Her graceful departure left the faint scent of jasmine in the air, a little gift that lingered with you.

Later, Antonio bounded over, his arms wrapped around a cheerful toucan that squawked happily in your direction. “The animals said you looked sad,” he said with wide-eyed sincerity. “But you don’t have to be! They like you.” He placed the toucan on your shoulder, and for a moment, the bird’s antics pulled a genuine laugh from your lips.

Pepa’s voice carried through the bustling crowd as she handed you a small plate of twelve grapes. “Eat them,” she insisted, her eyes kind but firm. “One for every wish. And don’t forget to make them count!”

Julieta’s warmth came last but not least, as she gently pressed an arepa into your hands. “Food makes everything better,” she said, her tone motherly and soothing. “You’ll see.”

By the time Camilo arrived, the night was already alight with fireworks, laughter, and cheer. He had just rushed back from the village after a long day of work, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of earnest concern. He found you leaning against a pillar near the edge of the balcony, the glow of fireworks reflecting in your eyes.

“There you are,” he said, slightly breathless but with a relieved grin. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You blinked, startled by his sudden arrival. “Camilo? Shouldn’t you be out enjoying the party?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “The party doesn’t matter if you’re not enjoying it too.” Without waiting for a reply, he draped his ruana over your shoulders, the warmth of it immediately chasing away the chill in the air. “You’ve spent enough of tonight alone.”

His presence was magnetic, pulling you out of your shell without effort. He began to talk about the funny things he’d seen in the village, mimicking people’s voices and gestures until you were laughing so hard your sides hurt. When he saw you relax, he leaned against the railing next to you, his tone softening.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “you mean a lot to us. To me.” He glanced at you, his eyes earnest. “I didn’t want the year to end without making sure you knew that.”

The weight of his words settled over you, warm and comforting. He reached out, his hand covering yours as the fireworks reached their peak, painting the sky in brilliant colors. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant cheers. “For everything.”

Camilo smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “You’ll never have to feel alone, not as long as I’m around.”

As the clock struck twelve, you felt a peace you hadn’t known in a long time. Surrounded by the Madrigals’ love and Camilo’s unwavering presence, you knew this New Year’s would be the start of something beautiful.

Friction

Peter Hayes x Badass!Reader

Fluff, some fighting (but it’s the usual, dauntless-style sparring kind of fighting)

Summary:  A fierce sparring match between the reader and Peter Hayes blurs the lines between rivalry and desire.

AN: You have no idea how stoked I was when I got this idea like I really REALLY checked this one

story under the cut

The atmosphere in the Dauntless training center buzzed with excitement as members gathered around the fighting ring, anticipation crackling in the air like electricity. You and Peter Hayes faced off, adrenaline coursing through your veins, the crowd’s shouts fading into a dull roar. You exchanged quick jabs, punches landing with precise accuracy, each strike fueled by an unspoken rivalry that simmered just beneath the surface.

“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, sweat glistening on your brow as you ducked and weaved, trying to avoid his powerful swings. The truth was, you were losing ground, and every passing moment made the pressure weigh heavier on your shoulders. Peter was relentless, his focus unwavering as he pushed you back against the ropes.

With each blow, you felt the sting of his punches and the laughter of your peers echoing in your ears. A mixture of anger and determination bubbled within you. You couldn’t let him win. Not like this.

In a moment of desperation, you remembered something, a playful strategy that could tip the odds. You feigned left, then swung around and pretended to stumble, drawing him in. As he approached, you executed your plan—leaning in close, you clung onto him, letting out a seemingly pained groan— which turned out more sultry than anything.

Then, just as he reacted, you leaned into him, pressing your body against his for a split second. The shock on his face was priceless, and for that fleeting moment, his focus broke. You took advantage, shoving him backward with all your might. Peter stumbled, losing his balance, and you seized the opportunity, driving your fist into his stomach.

The crowd erupted in cheers as he went down, the satisfaction of victory surging through you. “Looks like I win!” you shouted, grinning widely as the Dauntless members clapped and hooted in approval.

With the adrenaline still pumping, you stepped out of the ring, heart racing. As you walked toward the changing room, the excitement of the match still lingered in the air, but you felt a surge of confidence. You had beaten Peter Hayes, and it felt incredible.

Just as you reached the door, you heard heavy footsteps behind you. You turned to find Peter storming toward you, his expression a mix of anger and something else—something almost dangerous.

“Hey,” you said, trying to play it cool, but the smirk on your face faltered under his intense gaze.

“What the hell was that back there?” he snapped, closing the distance between you. His voice was low and charged, sending a thrill down your spine.

“Oh, come on, it was just a little distraction,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “You can’t tell me it didn’t work.”

“Is that really how you think this works?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing, body tense with frustration. “You think you can just—just use that to win?”

“Why not? It got the job done.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You think it’s a game? That you can just toy with me like that?”

Your heart raced, the energy between you shifting. “Oh quit moping over it. I get that loss is hard, but surely you’re not that much of a baby.” You taunted, rather amused.

Peter’s gaze locked onto yours, the tension thickening. “Oho, you just watch it sweetheart, I’ll fuck you up.”

Before you could respond, he reached out, gripping your arm firmly and pulling you closer until there was barely an inch between you. “You might think you’ve won, but you need to understand your place.”

In that moment, the anger simmered beneath the surface, but there was something else too—a heated charge that pulled you into him, an undeniable attraction. Your breath hitched, and you could feel your pulse quicken, the distance between you collapsing as you stared into his eyes.

“Is that so?” you challenged, tilting your head defiantly.

His grip on your arm tightened, his breath warm against your face. “You think you can just flaunt yourself and get away with it?”

“I just did,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes, feeling the pull between you intensify.

Then, without warning, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his in a heated kiss that sent a shockwave of electricity through you. It was fierce, demanding, a culmination of all the tension that had been building between you. The world around you faded away, and in that moment, there was nothing but the heat of his body against yours and the taste of adrenaline on your tongue.

But just as quickly, he pulled away, a frustrated growl escaping him. “Don’t do that again,” he warned, voice low and dangerous, but his eyes held a flicker of desire that made your heart race.

“No promises,” you challenged, your pulse racing as you stepped back, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

As he glared at you, you could see the battle within him, the tension lingering in the air as you turned and walked away, a rush of exhilaration coursing through you. You had ignited something between you, and this fight was far from over. 

Live and Let die

Obi Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader

Angst and comfort

Summary: Finding solace in him through suffering.

Inspired by: Live and Let Die by Wings. (Yes, from Shrek)

Story under the cut:

The bruises from the mission hadn’t even begun to fade, yet the sting of failure burned far deeper than any wound. You replayed the scene in your head—the split-second hesitation, the wrong move that cost lives. It didn’t matter that your mistakes weren’t intentional. The weight of them crushed you all the same.

You were supposed to be better. Stronger. Wiser. But instead, you were here, curled up in the shadows of the Jedi Temple’s gardens, your hands trembling as you wiped furiously at the tears tracking down your face.

“I thought I might find you here,” Obi-Wan’s voice cut through the quiet like a gentle blade.

You stiffened, dragging your sleeve across your face as if you could erase the evidence of your breakdown. “I’m fine, Master,” you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Obi-Wan didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he moved closer, lowering himself onto the stone bench beside you. The silence stretched, his presence steady but unyielding.

“You’re not fine,” he said at last, his tone soft but resolute.

That broke something in you. “Of course I’m not fine!” you snapped, your voice trembling with the force of your emotions. “I keep screwing up, Master. Over and over again. No matter how hard I try, I always let someone down.”

Your fists clenched on your knees, your nails digging into your palms as you stared at the ground. “Do you know what they said?” you whispered, voice cracking. “They said I hesitated. That if I hadn’t—if I’d just been faster, stronger—people wouldn’t have died. And they’re right. I keep failing, and I don’t even know how to stop.”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed, his expression shadowed with concern. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Padawan,” he began carefully, “you’re carrying the weight of this entire mission on your shoulders. That’s a burden no one should bear alone.”

“I have to bear it,” you shot back, your voice rising. “If I don’t, who will? I’m supposed to be a Jedi, aren’t I? We’re supposed to protect people—keep them safe. But I keep failing. How can I call myself a Jedi when I can’t even do that?”

Your words hung in the air, raw and bitter. For a long moment, Obi-Wan said nothing. Then he spoke, his voice low and heavy with memory.

“There was a time,” he said slowly, “when I stood where you are now. When I thought every failure was a sign of my inadequacy, a mark of my weakness. I believed I had to be perfect. That anything less meant I wasn’t worthy of being a Jedi.”

You looked up at him then, startled by the vulnerability in his voice. His gaze was distant, as if he were seeing ghosts.

“But perfection,” he continued, “is an illusion. One that will destroy you if you let it. The galaxy is cruel, Padawan. You can do everything right, and still, it won’t be enough. You can’t save everyone. And that… is not your fault.”

Your chest tightened, his words both a comfort and a knife. “It feels like my fault,” you whispered.

Obi-Wan’s hand tightened gently on your shoulder, grounding you. “That is the burden of compassion,” he said. “We carry the weight of others’ pain because we care. But if you let it consume you, it will drown you. You must learn to let go—not of your care, but of the guilt that comes with it. We live. We let go. And we learn.”

Tears burned in your eyes, and you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “Because I believe in you. Even when you doubt yourself, I will never doubt the strength I see in you. But that strength doesn’t mean never failing. It means standing back up, no matter how many times you fall.”

His words cracked something open in you, the floodgates breaking as the tears spilled freely. Obi-Wan didn’t move away. He stayed beside you, his presence a steady anchor as you let yourself feel the weight of your grief and frustration.

When the tears finally slowed, you turned to him, your voice hoarse. “What if I mess up again?”

“You will,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We all do. But you’ll rise again. And when you do, you’ll be stronger for it.”

You nodded slowly, his words a lifeline you clung to. The weight on your chest wasn’t gone, but it was lighter now. Manageable.

“Thank you, Master,” you murmured.

Obi-Wan rose, offering you a hand. “Come now, Padawan. There’s much to do, and tomorrow is another chance to grow.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And for the first time, you felt like you could keep going.

Tides of Change

Māui-tikitiki-a-Taranga x Reader

fluff, betrayal

Request by @whiteeaglestudent : do you think you could write a Moana 2 oneshot with a Maui x Female Nalo's Eel Minion Reader, where Y/n is one of Nalo's eel minions that guards the island of Motufetu, but she isn't evil like the other eels and can change into a human form but others are still slightly afraid of her, and when she meets Maui during his and Moana's journey, she decides to change her ways and turn good just to love Maui?

Summary: A reluctant guardian of Motufetu betrays her kin to save Maui and Moana, discovering courage and unexpected warmth in the process.

Story under the cut

I watched them from the depths, my sleek form slipping between jagged rocks as their canoe cut through the mist. They were too loud—laughing, bantering, utterly unaware of what they were sailing into. Mortals were always so cocky, so stupid. But the figure at the helm… something about him made me pause.

“Who does this guy think he is?” I muttered to myself, my voice rippling through the water like a growl. His stupid, smug grin and the way he flexed his muscles as if he were some kind of hero.

Wait.

I blinked, swimming closer for a better look. The light on the canoe shifted, and my stomach flipped. Oh no.

“Maui,” I hissed. The demigod of the wind and sea. Nalo had warned us about him.

Panic surged through me. If I didn’t act now, they’d reach Motufetu, and Nalo wouldn’t care that I’d been watching instead of attacking.

I surged upward, transforming mid-leap. My tail became legs, my scales shifted to skin, and I landed on the edge of their canoe with a splash.

“Turn back,” I growled, water dripping from my hair as I crouched like a predator. “Now.”

The girl—Moana—yelled and scrambled for an oar. But Maui? He just blinked at me, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Well, hello there,” he said, leaning on his hook like he wasn’t facing an ocean’s worth of trouble. “Didn’t realize we’d be picking up passengers.”

“I’m not your passenger,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes. “You’re trespassing.”

“Technically,” Maui said, scratching his chin, “we’re sailing. Different thing.”

“I could drag you both to the depths right now,” I threatened, baring my teeth.

Moana jabbed her oar in my direction. “I’d like to see you try!”

Maui waved her off, still grinning at me like I was some kind of joke. “Relax, Curly. She’s just doing her job, right?” He winked at me. “Big, scary eel thing. Super intimidating.”

My face burned. Intimidating?! He was mocking me! “You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” I snapped.

“Oh, I think I do,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re one of Nalo’s little minions, aren’t you?”

“I’m not little,” I shot back before I could stop myself.

Maui raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

I should’ve shoved him into the water right then and there. But something about the way he looked at me—like I wasn’t a threat, like he saw right through me—made my resolve falter.

“Look,” I said, straightening up. “You need to leave. Motufetu isn’t safe for you.”

“Gee, thanks for the warning,” Maui said, smirking. “But we’re good. Demigod here, remember?” He flexed an arm unnecessarily, and I had to bite back a scoff.

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered.

“Yeah, but you’re still talking to me,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t understand it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to scare them off, drag them under if I had to, but instead…

“Wait,” Moana said suddenly, frowning at me. “If you’re one of Nalo’s minions, why haven’t you attacked us yet?”

I stiffened. “I—”

“Good question,” Maui said, stepping closer. “What’s the holdup? Not feeling it today?”

“I’m giving you a chance to leave,” I snapped, turning my glare on him. “Take it before I change my mind.”

But he just kept smiling. “Sure. You’re totally terrifying me right now.”

I clenched my fists, my mind spinning. I should’ve just thrown him overboard. Instead, I found myself hesitating, my gaze lingering on the way his stupid hair caught the moonlight.

“Listen,” Maui said, his tone softening. “Whatever Nalo’s got on you? It doesn’t have to be like this.”

I laughed, but it came out bitter. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” he said, shrugging. “But I know you’re stalling.”

The words hit harder than I expected. He wasn’t wrong.

I looked away, my resolve crumbling. If I let them go, Nalo would know. The others would come for me. But when Maui’s hand brushed against mine, warm and steady, something shifted.

“You don’t owe him anything,” he said quietly.

For a moment, the world was still. His touch sent a strange warmth through me, cutting through the cold I’d carried for so long.

“I—” I began, but a distant rumble cut me off.

The waters churned, and I knew the others were coming.

“Go,” I said, stepping back. “Now.”

“What about you?” Maui asked, his brow furrowing.

“I’ll handle it,” I said firmly. “Just… don’t stop rowing.”

He hesitated, but Moana grabbed the oar. “Come on, Maui!”

I stalled them as long as I could. The other eels—my kin, my tormentors—swirled around me in the dark waters, their hissing voices filled with betrayal.

“Traitor,” one spat, circling closer.

“You dare betray Nalo?” snarled another.

I kept my movements quick and deliberate, dodging their lunges and leading them in chaotic loops away from the canoe. Every second I bought was a second they needed to escape.

The fog thickened, the dark sea churning around us, and finally, I saw my moment. With a sharp kick of my legs, I shot upward and broke through the surface, gasping for air as I clambered onto the canoe.

Maui and Moana whipped around, both startled by the sudden splash.

“What the—!” Moana exclaimed, reaching for the oar like it was a weapon.

I collapsed against the side of the boat, panting, water streaming off my trembling form. “They’re… they’re distracted,” I managed, barely able to speak. “But you need to move. Now.”

Maui crouched beside me, his face uncharacteristically serious. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than I expected.

“I’m fine,” I lied, pushing myself upright. My legs burned, and my lungs ached from the effort, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “Just focus on the sea ahead. There are currents here that will tear this boat apart if you don’t steer properly.”

Moana frowned, still gripping the oar. “What currents?”

“The kind that’ll drag you down faster than you can scream,” I said bluntly, pointing toward a jagged rock formation barely visible through the mist. “You need to steer between those rocks and the smaller ones behind them. Trust me.”

Maui stood, his gaze flicking between me and the treacherous waters. “You seem to know a lot about these currents, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s almost like I’ve lived here my entire life,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.

He grinned at that, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place. “Fair enough, Legs.”

I sighed, sitting back as they worked to navigate the canoe. Moana steered with precision, her movements quick and focused. Maui, for once, didn’t crack a single joke, his eyes scanning the water like a hawk.

As the boat slipped through the final set of rocks, the mist began to clear. The sea ahead stretched out, calm and endless, the danger of Motufetu fading behind us.

Only then did I allow myself to relax, leaning against the edge of the boat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Moana said, glancing at me.

I shrugged. “Guess I’m just full of bad decisions today.”

“Bad decisions, huh?” Maui’s voice was playful, but when I looked up, his expression wasn’t. His gaze held something else—something softer, more appreciative. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

My breath caught, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. “Don’t get used to it,” I muttered, looking away too quickly.

“Too late,” he teased, but there was warmth in his voice.

The air between us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken, until Moana cleared her throat loudly.

“So,” she said, glancing between us, “are we just gonna ignore the whole ‘betraying Nalo and almost dying’ thing, or…?”

I laughed, though it came out a bit shakier than I intended. “Yeah, let’s just focus on not dying for now.”

Maui’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could feel it even without looking. When I finally dared to glance at him, his smirk was back, but his eyes still held that softness.

I quickly turned my attention to the sea, trying to calm the warmth spreading through me. Stupid demigod.

But as the canoe drifted further from the island, I couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe, just maybe, I’d made the right choice after all.

Merlin.

Neville Longbottom x Hufflepuff!Reader

FLUFF!!

Summary: falling for the clumsy doofus.

AN: this was inspired by what happened last night, I attended Grad night (which is my school’s little graduation party) and realised I really really like this guy who I’ve casually spoken with in class. He’s exactly what I’d want in a husband but there’s a lot of things in between anything happening for us so yea nothing’s going to happen… I guess I’ll just transfer the experience to our lovely Neville. Enjoy!

UPDATE: (2/1/25) I found out he has a girlfriend now. It’s not meant to be guys. But wtv, I trust that the Lord will send me a true man of God. 🥹 (I’m catholic, I don’t think I mentioned that before)

The new seating chart was a disaster, at least as far as you were concerned. Of all people, you’d been paired with Neville Longbottom, a boy who had a reputation for stumbling over roots—both literally and metaphorically.

You approached your greenhouse workstation, already bracing for frustration. But when you saw him standing there, sleeves rolled up, nervously fiddling with his trowel, he turned to you with a warm, crooked smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my new partner in crime,” he said, his tone light but tentative.

You tilted your head, unimpressed but curious. “Didn’t realize we were committing crimes in Herbology now. Starting small, are we?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Baby steps. First, we master Flutterby Bushes. Then, who knows? Maybe world domination.”

You snorted, despite yourself, and set your bag down beside him. “If this is your plan for taking over the world, you might need a better partner.”

“Maybe,” Neville said, eyes twinkling. “But I think you’ll do just fine.”

Your lips twitched, threatening to betray the irritation you’d convinced yourself you felt.

Today’s task involved transplanting Flutterby Bushes, which were sensitive to emotion and required a careful hand. Perfect, you thought sarcastically. A recipe for disaster with someone like Neville.

The first few minutes passed in tentative silence. Neville focused intently on untangling a particularly stubborn root system, his tongue peeking out in concentration. You rolled your eyes, deciding to take the lead.

“You’re overthinking it,” you said, reaching over to adjust his grip. Your fingers brushed his, and he startled, nearly dropping the plant.

“Sorry,” he said, his cheeks tinged pink. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “Just… here. Like this.”

He watched you carefully, mimicking your movements. “You know,” he began, a teasing lilt in his voice, “you’re not half-bad at this. I thought Hufflepuffs were all about caring for magical creatures, not plants.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. Didn’t you flinch at the sight of a bowtruckle last week?”

Neville laughed, full and genuine, the sound warming the chilly air in the greenhouse. “Okay, fair. But in my defense, that bowtruckle had intentions.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Intentions? Of what, exactly? Poking you to death?”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the power of a well-placed poke,” he shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

The banter continued, and before you knew it, the initial awkwardness had melted away. Neville’s clumsiness was still there—he managed to spill an entire pot of soil onto the table at one point—but his easy humor and self-awareness turned every mistake into a shared joke.

“Merlin, Longbottom,” you said, brushing dirt off your robes for the third time, “you’re lucky you’re funny. Otherwise, I’d have ditched you by now.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a mock bow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I weren’t here.”

You opened your mouth to retort, then closed it again, caught off guard by how right he was.

Over the next few weeks, working with Neville became something you looked forward to. His wit and charm were understated but undeniable, and he had a knack for making you feel at ease, even when things went wrong.

When your Flutterby Bush began to wilt after a botched replanting, you felt a pang of frustration. “Great. It hates me,” you muttered, glaring at the drooping leaves.

Neville stepped closer, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t hate you. You’re just holding it too tight. Here.” He reached out, his hands brushing against yours as he repositioned the plant. “See? It’s all about trust.”

You glanced at him, startled by the quiet confidence in his voice. For a moment, the greenhouse seemed quieter, the only sound the rustle of leaves and your own heartbeat.

When the holidays arrived, you found yourself thinking about Neville more than you expected. At home, surrounded by family, you kept catching yourself smiling at memories of his quick wit, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms, and the way he could make you laugh even on the worst days.

By the time the Yule Ball rolled around, you’d realized something important: Neville Longbottom wasn’t just a good partner. He was… well, something more.

When you saw him waiting at the entrance to the Great Hall, your breath caught. His dress robes were simple but elegant, and there was a confidence in his posture that you hadn’t seen before.

“You clean up well,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“So do you,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. “Shall we?”

The dance was magical, but it wasn’t the music or the decorations that made it special. It was Neville—his warm smile, his steady hand on yours, the way he looked at you like you were the most important person in the room.

As the night ended, he walked you to the courtyard, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

The courtyard was quiet, the cool air brushing against your flushed cheeks as you turned to Neville. He stood close, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his robe, but his eyes—soft and steady—held yours.

“You looked amazing tonight,” you said softly, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.

Neville blinked, his face lighting up with a sly smile. “You looked rather… dashing tonight,” he said, his voice low but earnest.

Your cheeks burned, and you looked down, unable to hide your smile. “Oh, thanks,” you murmured, your heart racing. Butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

He tilted his head, watching you intently. There was something in the way your blush lingered that made his own nerves fall away. Slowly, deliberately, he reached for your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

When you looked up, his gaze locked with yours, and without a word, he leaned in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft and tentative, yet it sent a spark racing through you.

It was over too quickly, but as he pulled back, the shy grin on his face said everything. And for once, neither of you needed words.

AN: well, this is what I can only wish had happened. HES SO FUNNY AND AMAZING AND SMART AND SUCH A GREEN FLAG 😭MAN CAN COOK AND TOLD ME WOMEN IN POWER ARE HOT LIKE- bloody hell his future wife/husband is so fucking lucky 😭

Hi there,

I’m reaching out with a quiet hope in my heart. These days are heavy, and my family is living through a reality filled with uncertainty—but I’m still here, doing my best to hold on and keep going.

If you have a moment, please check out my pinned post.

A simple share could help it reach someone who might be able to make a difference.

If you’re able to give, even the smallest kindness can bring light into the darkest places.

Your time, your voice, your compassion — it all matters more than you know.

With deep gratitude,

@nadinfamily

^^

Sending prayers. I know some of you may be tired of seeing these posts but honestly, they are recurring for a REASON. They need help.

So if you can, donate. If not, spread the word.

Bullet Train?

ANYONE WATCHED BULLET TRAIN YET? LIKE HOLY SHIT IT IS MY HYPERFIXATION RIGHT NOW AND I KID YOU NOT, THE CHOKEHOLD TANGERINE HAS ON ME IS ABSOLUTELY FATAL 😭 Is there like a community or anything for bullet train because it seems quite scarce 🥲

Writing Description Notes:

Updated 9th September 2024 More writing tips, review tips & writing description notes

Facial Expressions

Masking Emotions

Smiles/Smirks/Grins

Eye Contact/Eye Movements

Blushing

Voice/Tone

Body Language/Idle Movement

Thoughts/Thinking/Focusing/Distracted

Silence

Memories

Happy/Content/Comforted

Love/Romance

Sadness/Crying/Hurt

Confidence/Determination/Hopeful

Surprised/Shocked

Guilt/Regret

Disgusted/Jealous

Uncertain/Doubtful/Worried

Anger/Rage

Laughter

Confused

Speechless/Tongue Tied

Fear/Terrified

Mental Pain

Physical Pain

Tired/Drowsy/Exhausted

Eating

Drinking

Warm/Hot