#Newt's Winter Fic Event

[newtthetranswriter]

Christmas Conflict Clean Up

Word count: 949

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

Summary: Taking care of him after the Christmas conflict.

Warnings: Talk of blood, concussions and other injuries, stabbing

A/N: Hello everyone, I hope that if you celebrate Christmas you had a good one yesterday, and if you don’t, I hope you still had an amazing day. Anyway, I wrote this picturing it happening obviously right after the fight in the church. I also picture it happening when they are in the last year of high school, so still teen but more like 18ish. Anyway, enjoy and remember to Hydrate Or Diedrate.

   It was about three in the morning when the knocking on my window finally woke me up. I was totally confused by this, like, who in their right mind is knocking on people’s windows at 3am the day after Christmas. As I went to the window, my question was answered, seeing my boyfriend standing outside, with what was very clearly a black eye and many other injuries to his handsome face. Realizing it was Takashi standing out there, I rushed to slide the window open and help him climb through the window.

   “I’m sorry to wake you up so early. I just didn’t want to wake Luna and Mana with my face so beat up.” Takashi explained as he gave a weak smile sitting on my bed.

   Ignoring his explanation as to why he was here, I went to work, looking for my first aid kit that I kept in my room for nights like this. Digging through my dresser drawer, I let out a quiet exclamation of victory, pulling out the box of supplies. Turning on my bedside lamp, I decide the best course of action would be to first clean up all the blood. “Sorry, but this is gonna sting.” I said, taking an antiseptic wipe to a large cut on his cheek. He flinched away from the wipe and in response I grabbed the back of his head to hold him still, not realizing that was also a bad idea.

   This time he jerked forward, nearly headbutting me in the process. “Shit that hurt.” Takashi mumbled out, trying to keep his voice down.

   Realizing with that kind of reaction, there had to be a wound on the back of his head, I turned his face away from me. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see any blood in his hair, but knowing there could still be something there, I carefully started moving his short hair out of my way. When I bumped a particular spot, he let out another quiet string of curses, signalling that I found the spit of concern. Looking closer at the spot, I could see a rather large bump that was already starting to turn purple. “Jesus, Takashi, what’d they hit you with a brick?” I asked, only slightly joking.

  “Close, a metal pipe.” Was his response as he tilted his head to look back at me. I held back a gasp, as I didn’t actually think whoever he got in a fight with this time would hit him with something. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just a bump and a bruise, nothing major.” He smirked, trying to make it sound not that bad.

  I resisted the urge to smack the back of his head. “Nothing major, really, Takashi. You could have a concussion, for god’s sake. Now sit still so I can clean up the rest of your face.” I snapped as I turned him back to facing me. “And don’t flinch, or I will make sure you leave here with a concussion.” I threatened, going back to wiping off his cuts.

  With that, he shut right up, knowing that if I had to I would really beat his ass for being an idiot. “What even were you idiots fighting about at Christmas?” I asked, hoping to get some answers on the citation, that lead to a bloody boyfriend knocking on my window at three o’clock.

  He paused, probably trying to figure out how to explain it in a way to make it sound justified. When he finally spoke, I could tell it was the unfiltered truth. “Takemitchy believed that Hakkai was going to kill his brother and was dead set on stopping him. He was right in the sense that Hakkai was there, but Yuzuha is the one who ultimately stabbed Taiju. Don’t worry, the wound wasn’t fatal, but it turned into an all out brawl in the church with Takemitchy, Chifuyu, Hakkai, and Me against Taiju and a couple of his Black dragon guys. Honestly, the only thing that saved our asses was Mikey and Draken showing up when they did.” He explained.

  I knew right away it was the truth, Hakkai was like the little brother Takashi never had, and I know he would do anything for him, even risk his life if he had too. I smiled as I wiped the last little bit of blood off his lower lip. “I’m glad everyone made it out okay then.” It’s all I could think to say. He returned the gentle smile. “Now please take a break from fighting until at least the new year, I don’t think your pretty face can take another beating so soon.” I said, earning a chuckle from him as I moved to the first aid kit back in its resting spot.

  When I turned around, Takashi had kicked off his shoes and thrown his Toman jacket over my desk chair, and made himself comfortable on my bed. Before I could say anything, he beat me to it. “You said it yourself, I could have a concussion from being hit with a metal pipe. I shouldn’t be driving in this condition. Now come lay down, we both know your parents are used to me coming over all beat up and spending the night.” He said, making valid points, patting the space next to him. I quickly lied down next to him, turning off the light. Before I could drift off to sleep, I heard one last thing from the lilac haired young man. “Thank you for always being here for me, even if it’s at such shitty hours” That was the last thing I heard before letting sleep take over.

#tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #Newt's Winter Fic Event

[fable-and-folly]

Favorite Fics for Favorite Ships

DRARRY

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter

@nv-md, Rated: E, Words: 18153

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

Nor All That Glisters

@sweet-s0rr0w, Rated: E, Words: 110625

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks.

Stop taking the Felix? You must be joking…

My heart was far too glad

@maesterchill, Rated: E, words: 22700

Draco Malfoy is single, heavily pregnant and on his way to his first antenatal class. High time he bumped into Harry Potter, wouldn’t you say, who as it happens is in an awfully similar condition.

freely, as men strive for right

bixgirl1, Rated: E, Words: 17126

How can Harry love a man like Draco Malfoy?

If only Draco would let him count the ways.

(Sometimes, a happily-ever-after takes a bit longer than you expect.)

You open always (petal by petal)

birdsofashore, Rated: E, Words: 65214

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

SNARRY

Contempt

@danpuff-ao3, Rated: E, Words: 20400

Harry hates Snape, and he always will. (He will, won’t he?)

Angels on the Moon

@writcraft, Rated: E, Words: 26911

The aftermath of the war is almost as difficult as the war itself, Harry is a mess and Severus is a reluctant survivor forced back to Hogwarts to recuperate from his injuries. When a brick-bonding spell goes awry, Harry and Severus are forced to confront hatred, misunderstandings and a new and unexpected intimacy which takes them both by surprise.

Sudden Light

@liladiurne, Rated: E, Words: 48324

Seven years after the war, in the dead of winter, Severus Snape meets a beautiful stranger on a train. Inevitably, he falls in love.

The funny thing about grief and time

etalice, Rated: E, Words: 43600

Later, Harry will start telling people he fell in love with Severus after the war.

It will not quite be a lie.

The Boy Who Died a Lot

starcrossedgirl, Rated: E, Words: 71767

Harry’s always been known as The Boy Who Lived. Only Severus knows that this is a lie. (Or: a portrait of Severus Snape, in seven acts.)

TOMARRYMORT

Tom Riddle and the Quest for Vulnerability

lejf, Rated: E, Words: 15621

They found him in an old house, under the stairs. His face was pale and instantly recognisable.

aka

Auror Harry Potter has eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle bent over the table barely a day after he becomes his ward.

The Emperor and the Star

wynnebat, Rated: E, Words: 16496

NEWT-level Divination student Harry Potter bullshits his way through a major arcana reading, best friend of the year Tom Riddle offers a marriage of convenience with no ulterior motives at all, and the wizarding world's changing future is much less important than the seventh years' love lives.

The Resurrectionist 

@bluesundaycake, Rated: E, Words: 11653

It started with a black coffee and squiggles in a notebook. A story of monsters and men, and how alike they really are.

After the Fall

@crowcrowcrowthing, Rated: E, Words: 32800

Harry Potter was a perfect symbol of the Light. Cursed at birth by a spell that had affected so many of his generation, he overcame his inherent nature, depending on his faith to eventually save the world. He became a beacon of hope, evidence that anyone could be redeemed. Even ten years after the events that had tested the very limits of his willpower, he continued his work. He was determined to find proof of miracles—to see that the Light looked over the rest of the world as it looked over him.

And he eventually found what he was looking for.

In the Darkest of Times

@duplicitywrites, Rated: E, Words: 29191

Harry remembers this face projected on the screens, splattered with blood, handsome and unforgiving like so many Careers before him. Devoid of emotion as he cut down his opponents with distressing efficiency. Deadly.

“You’re Tom Riddle,” says Harry. He states this as a fact.

Tom’s gaze narrows in on him, raking over his face and body like Harry is a tiny moth pinned to a board. “That I am. District One. I will be your mentor for this year’s Games.”

#drarry #snarry #tomarrymort

[mayfieldss]

wip tag game

tagged by: @heliads

I seriously have an issue with song based fics

dynamic: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

-

Sparks fly ⇸ Damon Salvatore x reader (based on the Taylor Swift song 'Sparks fly')

Perfectly wrong ⇸ Damon Salvatore x reader (based on the Shawn Mendes song 'Perfectly wrong')

Humanity ⇸ Damon Salvatore x reader (reader death, angsty as hell, I love this one)

Shadows ⇸ Damon Salvatore x reader (based on the song 'Shadows' by Sabrina Carpenter)

Fake - part seven ⇸ Isaac Lahey x reader (Part seven of the 'Fake' series)

Always ⇸ Diego Hargreeves x reader (insecure reader, soft Diego)

Sharing food with Steve Harrington ⇸ Steve Harrington x reader (headcannons)

One time ⇸ Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x reader (mutual pining, the umbrellas getting mad that the reader is dating a Sparrow)

Needed ⇸ Luke Patterson x reader (when the readers dog dies Luke comforts them)

Jail time ⇸ Will Halstead x reader (reader gets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Will has to bail them out)

Kiss me in the moonlight ⇸ JJ Maybank x reader (the plot of this is a mystery to even me)

Love you again (still not sure about this title) ⇸ Steve Harrington x reader (This is best friends to strangers to friends to strangers again, to friends to lovers. A personal favourite)

Home ⇸ Kate Bishop x reader (Kate is homesick for the reader)

Everyone at this party ⇸ Eddie Brock x reader (based on the song 'Everyone at this party' By Camilla Cabello)

Wildest Dreams ⇸ Alex Summers x reader (soulmate AU)

Wonderland ⇸ Nikolai Lantsov x reader (based on the song 'Wonderland' By Taylor Swift)

Invisible string ⇸ TMR newt x reader (Reader hates everyone but Newt, Taylor lyric title ik)

Different ⇸ Nathan Drake x reader (movie version) (Nathan meets his match)

Tell em ⇸ Derek Hale x reader (based on the song 'Tell em' by Sabrina Carpenter)

When Hell Freezes over ⇸ Matt Murdock x reader (enemies to lovers)

First date ⇸ TASM Peter Parker x reader (Peter takes the reader on a date)

Warm and Fuzzy ⇸ Eddie Brock x reader (Dog dad Eddie)

Second Guesses ⇸ Eddie Brock x reader (Eddie let the reader go once and regretted it, he won't do it a second time)

Coming home ⇸ Bucky Barnes x reader (when Bucky returns home from Louisiana, the reader is there waiting for him)

Falling ⇸ Walter (keys) Mckey x reader (the reader and Keys went their separate ways when they were fired, but they miss being together)

Tight Space ⇸ Spencer Reid x reader (stuck in a tight space trope)

Slow down ⇸ Pietro Maximoff x reader (Pietro gets worried when the reader starts overworking themselves)

Never ⇸ Bucky Barnes x reader (when the reader and Bucky break up a game of never have I ever brings up the past)

Together ⇸ Bucky Barnes x reader (during the events of Civil war, Bucky has to go on the run)

Coffee girl - Part three ⇸ Bucky Barnes x reader (part three of the series 'Coffee girl')

Friends of Friends ⇸ Bucky Barnes x reader (the reader and Bucky are both friends of Sam, but not each other)

Ghost of you - prequel ⇸ Bucky Barnes x reader (backstory for the drabbles 'ghost of you')

-

no pressure tags: (tagging writers I know) @hiya-its-amber @teenwolf-theoriginals @froggywritesstuff @t-reblogs @winter-soldier-vibes @buckys2thicc @shadesofsteve @samuel-de-champagne-problems @cllaraoswallds

#fics #tag games #fanficton #eva rambles #ask me about them #asks

[comebacknow]

Glader Cup 2022

WAKE UP MAZE RUNNER FANDOM A TON OF NEW CONTENT JUST DROPPED

Our discord hosted the first annual Glader Cup this past week (congrats to the Track Hoes for winning first place!!) and it resulted in new fic, art, gifsets, recipes, and more! Here are some fics from the event if you're looking for something to read! * to have a heartbeat by newtedison ; 11k ; brenderesa ; general Teresa restores damaged photographs. She can also use them to summon the dead.

When Brenda is the ghost she summons, everything changes. * it's a lovely morning in the glade by astralpenguin ; 2k ; clint & jeff ; teen The new Greenie was clutching a sheet of paper, and on that paper was a set of very clear instructions that could only have come from the people who put them there

The instructions were for a game * Home by Itsthemaze ; 20k ; newtmas ; mature What life is like in the Safe Haven after the death cure. Lots of newtmas and pals ! * Thomas and the Wizard of Oz by jo_the_great_and_powerful ; 25k ; general Thomas was caught in a Twister, and wakes up to realize he's not in Kansas anymore! With the help of a scarecrow, a tin man, and a cowardly lion, can he make it home to his Aunt and Uncle before the Wicked Witch of the West gets the better of him? * Sometimes by persnickett ; 1k ; newtmas ; mature It's not the first time... * ice cold but i'm still melting by tommyglued ; 1k ; sonyarriet ; teen It is winter all year round, but Sonya finds herself experiencing spring. * Ya'aburnee by dontbeeshy ; 7k ; newtmas ; teen ya'aburnee arabic – may he bury me the hope that one’s lover will die after them because of how unbearable life would be without them. * Chekhov's Goose by IceBreeze ; 10k ; thominewt ; teen There are monsters in the dark and they're eating all the toilet paper. * Suddenly by bluesummersmoon ; 4k ; newtmas ; teen In a life that's taken everything, remembering becomes a form of survival. Newt remembers. Newt, somehow, has survived. Suddenly, he finds himself on a beach at the end of the world with nowhere left to run, and everything starts to change.

(or, the flight to the Safe Haven.) * Frypan's Strawberry Eclair Adventures by birdienz ; 3k ; general Frypan sets out to make the best strawberry eclairs his friends in the Safe Haven have ever tasted. Thank you to everyone who wrote and submitted work!!

#tmr #the maze runner #fic rec #tmr fic rec #tmr fic #maze runner fic #newtmas #sonyarriet #brenderesa #thominewt #tmr fam #gladercup2022

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

--

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

#good omens prime #good omens lockdown #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale and crowley #wake the snake #aziraphale/crowley #sleeping crowley #aziraphale #pov aziraphale #crowley's flat #crowley's plants #sleepy cuddles #2020 was a year #aziraphale loves crowley #crowley loves his angel #asexual good omens #pointy demon wants soft angel cuddles #good omens anniversary #my writing #ao3 fic #ao3 link

[sidleyparkhermit]

fanfic meme thing!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

24 (though it should probably be counted as 23 because the crossword puzzle solution isn't really a separate work)

2) What is your total ao3 word count?

49,608

3) How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Around 12 or 13 on AO3, depending how you count various interconnected media franchises. But if you collected all the non-AO3 tumblr fic, pre-AO3 fic that I never collected properly outside LJ/DW/mailing lists (yes really), old Yuletides, god knows what-all else… It’s certainly in the dozens. Some favorites not found in my AO3 would include X-Files, Pacific Rim, DC Vertigo-verse, due South, M*A*S*H, the Peter Wimsey novels, Law & Order: SVU, and I think LOST at some point

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Derry Days (IT (Movies - Muschietti))

Binary (Star Wars Original Trilogy)

Arena (Hannibal (TV))

#postedbyteamcap (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV))

Multitudes (Star Wars - All Media Types)

5) Do you respond to comments?

I try! Oh, how I try! And I get so neurotic about it when I don’t get around to them. Especially since people comment so little nowadays! God I miss posting fic on LiveJournal.

(I mean, I still do post fic on LiveJournal, but obviously people don’t comment there)

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Angstiest, I would have to go with hologram/sunset, from beginning to end (which is a pretty short walk). Can’t really beat Alderaanian survivor’s guilt.

The first one that came to mind, though, was the Westworld flashfic Reflection, because it has the look of an angsty romantic vignette and then right at the end gets CREEPY.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, there's a lot of get-togethers and hopeful endings on my AO3 but the end of Derry Days is the only one that was described by one commenter as “schmoopy”.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

If I had all the crazy flashfic from all the pseuds of my youth, I think there would be some great ones in there. I do love crossovers. Harder to find an audience for them, though, if you don’t have a significant audience of your own to begin with.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I can recall.

10) Do you write smut? What kind?

Sigh… I’ve written a lot more of it than I’ve posted, that’s for sure. I get too embarrassed and don’t finish things up. (Special shout-out to the beta readers who gave me such nice feedback on drafts that then faded away unfinished and abandoned, like the kinky novella-length Zeller/Chilton thing or the one with the miniseries Reddie phone sex)

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I can recall. I once had a translation request that I didn’t see until long after the fandom event it would have been for, so these days I’ve made sure to keep a blanket permission statement where it’s easy to find. (Because of this, I did get a story podficced once! So that was cool.)

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Only with @kumquatweekend when we were about 12!

14) What’s your favorite ship?

My brain says there’s no possible way to even narrow this down to a top 10, but my gut says Newt/Hermann

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’d love to get back to Lovecraft in Brooklyn — I had some fun stuff brewing for Chapter 3 with Endgame Natasha and probably T’Challa — but to complete that story would require so much lore and worldbuilding and it just was not gonna happen.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Banter. Feels. Intertextuality. Plotting. Getting in, saying just what I want to say, and getting out (something I’m ironically terrible at in every other aspect of life).

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Procrastination. Over-editing. Repeating myself. Being too protective of my precious little ideas to let them actually become a thing other people will look at. And, quite often, failure to figure out how to get in, say just what I want to say, and get out.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Not being fluent in any other languages, I avoid this as best I can. Can’t remember the last time it would have come up, though.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Whoo boy. X-Files? Highlander: The Series? We’re going way back to middle school here. I might have written things that counted as fanfic for ACD Holmes/Watson before any TV fandoms.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

The one I’m going to do next.

tagging: anyone reading this who thinks it would be fun, consider yourself tagged!

#writing memes #long post #not fewer butts but less butts

[morgana-greenleaf]

Masterlist

Some of these are only on AO3, ones on Tumblr and AO3 have the AO3 link at the end. Main characters are listed.

navigate by character/fandom here.

Ficlets for requests can be found on Tumblr here, or AO3 here.

All Bucky whump fics here, Jaskier whump here, and Doctor Who fics here.

Bad Things Happen Bingo Masterlist

Summer (Winter) of Whump: The Breaking of Bucky Barnes and the Making of the Winter Soldier Masterlist

DoctorRose Fic Marathon Masterlist

Whumptober 2021 Masterlist

this list is incomplete and is more for collecting event masterlists

only event masterlists are complete

Doctor Who

Left in the Ruins - 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler

Good Omens

An Eternity of Pain - Crowley, Aziraphale

Whumptober 2020 - Crowley, Aziraphale

MCU

Forgiven - Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker [AO3]

Tower of Tomorrow - Bucky Barnes, Avengers [AO3]

Out of Mercy [BTHB] - Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes [AO3]

Someone of Importance [BTHB] - Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson [AO3]

Anything for Family [BTHB] - Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson, Alpine [AO3]

No Regrets [BTHB] - Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff [AO3]

No Harm [BTHB] - Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers [AO3]

How You Remind Me [BTHB] - Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton [AO3]

Trust Fall [BTHB] - Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff [AO3]

Broken Chains [BTHB] - Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, Rebecca Barnes [AO3]

Red Room drabble - Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes, implied Natasha Romanoff (no ao3)

Other Fandoms

I Deserve A Thousand Deaths For What I've Done To You (Supernatural) - Gabriel/Sam Winchester

Less Death More Cure (Maze Runner) - Newt, Sonya, Teresa Agnes

Newt Isn't Bloody Dead (Maze Runner) - Newt

#masterlist

[supergeek21]

My fic for the @go-events Good Snowmens winter exchange is up! Crowley and Aziraphale join Anathema and Newt on a ski trip. Aziraphale learns that snakes don’t do well in snow. Written for @starryfull13

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #fanfiction #ineffable husbands #ao3 #archive of our own #good omens fanfiction #writers on tumblr #crowley x aziraphale #good snowmens #discord #good omens events server #skiing #sleigh ride #Crowley hates the cold #horses hate Crowley #crowley loves his angel

[thorne93]

The Softest Fire (Part 1)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 3379

Warnings: mentions of being an orphan

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy​. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long line of wizards and witches had lived before me. Long, long before me. Our family wasn’t famous, and wasn't extremely well to do. As far as fortune or fame went, we were just like any other family. The Vaughans. I was born, in 1897, as Rosaline Vaughan. Soft blonde curls, creamy skin, and ocean blue eyes were my distinctive features.

The only difference for me was, my parents weren’t alive. When I was three, my father’s life was cut short when a horrible accident occurred. He was an auror for the Ministry of Magic, chasing down a criminal. In his pursuit, he was about to apparate… And he did, only he did so incorrectly. Something distracted him, and it ripped his chest wide open. Splinching, I believe is what they call it. He couldn't be saved…

It was only a year later that my mother had a tragic mishap with her potions. She dabbled, even thought of starting a shop for elixirs and tonics… But she’d misread a label… and the whole lab was destroyed. 

Their deaths is how I wound up in my Uncle and Aunt’s home, living and being raised with my cousin Nora. They raised me as their own and Nora and I were practically inseparable, sisters, if you will. Lovely, lovely people. My Uncle and my father were brothers, those two got along marvelously, and so did Nora and I, for being two entirely different people. 

Nora is seven years older than me. I was beginning to learn how to properly write, read, and do arithmetic when she received her first letter to Hogwarts. I was raised on magic, bred on magic. Nothing about magic was a secret in my Aunt and Uncle’s home. Nora is the adventurous one, the bold one, the dedicated, patient, and the curious one. She was creative, and sometimes pushed the envelope. 

On the other hand, I was… quiet, reserved, non-risky one. I never defied, never disobeyed, always kept my nose down.

I often studied the books Nora bought in Diagon Alley weeks before her stay at Hogwarts. By the time I attended… well I was years ahead of anyone in my class. 

Most people, including my professors, thought I would or should be in the Ravenclaw house at Hogwarts, given my thirst for knowledge and my nose always in a book. However, Hufflepuff was given to me. I didn’t complain. I had no preference on the matter. Nora had spoken of each house to me when I was younger. She had explained that Ravenclaw was for the well read, the book worms. Gryffindor was for the courageous, the brave. Hufflepuff was for the kind, the steadfast. Slytherin was for the cunning, the quick witted. Each house had something to offer the world, and so long as I got a letter, I was happy to be in any house. 

Hufflepuff seemed to suit me well though, in my time there. 

In my seventh year, my last year, I was selected Head Girl. An honor and a privilege. I hadn’t really expected it, to be honest. I was too focused on schoolwork, making top marks, working closely with all the professors before and after class. Everywhere I went, people wanted to be my friend. I supposed I was nice enough, perhaps that was the reason. Boys asked me to the Winter Ball every year, and I accepted, solely so I didn’t hear any grief from my aunt and cousin. 

Men were hardly ever on my mind. All I had ever wanted, or dreamed of, was mastering magic. Dating and socializing rather got in the way of that at times. I had friends, sure, I attended parties, dances, the like. But I never sought out more friendship than needed. The funny thing was, people seemed to gravitate towards me and my effort to interact was often very little, but somehow, I always ended up the center of every social circle. 

Maybe it was my never ending compassion, or desire for real justice that people loved about me. Because towards the end of my sixth year at Hogwarts, a peculiar event took place. 

Leta Lestrange had an incident with a Jarvey. For some reason her friend, Newton Scamander, one of my own Hufflepuffs, took the fall for her. He stated it was his. The thing was, you knew it was hers. She’d had the Jarvey a lot, she was also a Lestrange, who were known to be a … finicky bunch. Why Newton took the blame, I wasn’t sure I would ever know. Be that as it may, he faced expulsion. It was towards the end of the year however, and they let him finish his exams and would review his case before the next year. When the seventh year came, I was elected Head Girl. Along with this came many duties, one of which was helping to carry out the sentence given to Newton Scamander. 

He was allowed to return for his final year at Hogwarts under one condition: he was not be left alone on the grounds without a professor, other faculty, myself, or the head boy. This became tedious as nearly every professor was always tied up in their work, leaving it to me to follow Newt. 

The problem wasn’t carrying out my duties. The problem was I knew who the real culprit was and I had to see Newt be monitored like a feral creature held captive. In this time, I grew fond of Newt. He was a quiet, well to do, intelligent young man who I admired. It was in this time that I began to dislike Leta Lestrange more than I ever had before. 

She had a horrible reputation. Bad student, disobeyed orders, it was a wonder they ever invited her back to the school. Not to mention letting an innocent boy pay for her crimes.

But I suppose all things worked out in the end. We all graduated, and went out into the world. Newt got to keep his wand and he graduated the same as the rest of us. In fact, he worked for some time at the Ministry. 

By the time I graduated Hogwarts, life couldn’t get much better. Except that I went straight into working for the Ministry with letters of recommendations from every professor I’d had. 

From what I’d heard Newt worked for the Ministry for four years. He was in a confidential program for a short while, before being moved to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Then, because of his unsurprising amount of knowledge in regards to magical critters, he was moved again to the Beast Division. 

The two of us hardly ever saw each other except a pass in the hall here or there, at least when it came to work at the Ministry. I began in the office of Improper Use of Magic. I found the work easy. Sentencing was swift, just, and easy. My employers saw how bored I was getting and seemed to want to make me happy so they offered to move me into the Hit Wizards division. Quite a bit more faced paced, exciting, and finally, a challenge. Or… it would’ve felt that way if I weren’t as talented and skilled as I am.

During my schooling at Hogwarts, the only professor who seemed to be able to rival my skill set was Professor Dumbledore. Even at the Ministry, no one could raise their wand to me. It was customary, for all employers to learn how their employees worked, trained, fought, defended… Every fight, without fail, I reigned victorious, and much more quickly than my peers. 

Rumors, gossip, and whispers about me floated about in the wizarding world. 

No one feared me, but I most certainly got the respect I deserved. I never had to raise my voice, give anyone a stern glare, or utter a word to get things done that needed to be done. I rather liked that, the power, the will. 

I never thought much of the level of my power, not until people started to constantly mention it. Criminals, peers, colleagues, professors, employers. It was as if people hadn’t seen what studying could do for people. 

Even when I realized that I was quite powerful, I had no desire to exploit it, to use it against others. All I wanted to do in life was have a good job, hold a secure career, and live in a humble home. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. 

The years went on, and Nora opened a book shop. Curious, as I was in such an adrenaline rush of a job, and she ran a simple book store. Leta Lestrange had joined the Ministry and that turned my stomach. She was in Department of Magical Law Enforcement, assistant to the head! Of all things. The very idea of her in that position had me fuming. Newt was offered a position to write a book, and he took it. The opportunity allowed him to travel the world and discover new creatures. Nora, my cousin, would sometimes join him. 

Nora, however, was one year behind Newt’s brother, at Hogwarts. Theseus Scamander. Now, he was a very well-to-do boy. Always kept, always pressed, always ready for the next promotion. Much like myself, he kept his nose down, and he followed orders, to the dot. He was someone who I very much admired. Even if I wasn’t very close with him, word had gotten around about him. Excellence was often noticed at the Ministry. 

It seemed to be though, that Theseus and I were often in the same social and work circles, while the two dreamers -- Newt and Nora -- were off in the world, discovering things. Nora helped Newt at his flat with the animals on and off, when he was out traveling and needed someone to stay behind to take care of what he couldn’t bring along. 

Things were starting to get stale around my life. No man, no real loss there. No friends outside of work. Not much but Nora and the occasional chat with Theseus, Newt, and other Hogwarts alumni that roamed the halls of the Ministry of Magic. So, my ears perked up when I heard it may be time to elect a new Minister for Magic.

The campaign began, with the blessing of my direct employer. He headed up the starting program himself. Before I knew it, the election was only a few months away. The polls were looking fantastic, with my name always 100 points ahead of anyone else’s.

But one day… It all changed.

Nothing extreme happened. Nothing dire. Nothing life changing. No mid-life crisis. Nothing extraordinary at all. I merely woke up, with an intense desire to not return to my job, or to pursue being the Minister for Magic any longer. 

It wasn’t stress. I handle stress incredibly well. Wear it like a new Chanel suit. Even if it was the stress of the campaign and the very real fact I may be the new Minister for Magic, at least for a part of Europe… I could’ve just withdrawn from the race. But no, this ran much deeper than that. 

But seeing as I never do anything hasty, or risky, I sat on it, at least for three weeks, to see if I could shake it. Yet, nothing wavered. The pull to leave a life I’d strived to built was ever present. 

So I began job seeking. 

“You… want to what?” Nora had asked while I stood in her shop.

“I want to leave,” I stated matter of factly. Why was this so hard to grasp?

“But you’re… you’re practically Ms. Minister for Magic. Why now? Is it the campaign?”

I frowned, waving her off as she filled an order, waving her wand to stack some books. “No, nothing like that. You know me. That wouldn’t bother me.”

“I do know you,” she agreed emphatically. “Which is why I’m concerned that you want to leave at all… but, if you’re serious, I do know that Newt is looking for a full time assistant.”

“An assistant?” I asked, a hint of incredulous in my voice. 

“Yes, something wrong with that?” she retorted. 

I made a slight face. “No, but…”

“If you want prestige, cousin, you may reconsider staying where you’re at,” she said with a lilt in her voice. 

In response, I sighed, my shoulders drooping momentarily in my cranberry blazer and matching silk blouse. I stood back straight and tall though, smoothing out my skirt, looking rather lean in my heels. 

“No, that’s perfectly fine… But I thought you--”

“Bookstore’s getting busy, and unless I can find some help…” She peered at me for a moment, wanting me to chime in. 

“Cousin, I’d be delighted, but I would enjoy work that took me… away from London, for a bit.”

Nora nodded, smiling gently. “I understand. He’s interviewing for the position. I’m sure he won’t mind if you drop by.”

“Oh, is he home?” 

“Just for the week. He leaves on Sunday.” 

“Fantastic. I’ll head there now,” I informed with a slight grin. 

I made my way through the city to Newt’s humble abode. As soon as I arrived, I knocked twice, and after a moment, the red-haired man appeared on the other side of the door.

“Rosaline?” he greeted, slightly confused. Typically, it’d be my cousin. Or myself and Nora, but I never arrived alone. 

“Hello, Newt,” I greeted in return, warmly. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” he suddenly started.

I laughed. “No, no. I’m not here for that. No. Of course you haven’t. You’re just fine, Newt, I promise,” I assured, touching his sleeved arm with my gloved hand. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Uh, not at all.” He backed up and let me in, showing me to the kitchen, where he made some tea. “What brings you by, then, if you don’t mind my asking. You and I aren’t very--”

“Social?”

He nodded. 

I sipped my tea before jumping to the point. “I’m looking for work, and heard you were hiring an assistant.”

He peered at me with incredible shock. “You’re… you’re here about the job?”

I nodded. “Mhm.”

“Alright. Uh, let me just… get my questions,” he said before pulling his wand out. He whisked it in the air and said, “Accio interview papers.” Before long, a few papers came gliding into the room, landing in his hands. He glanced at me nervously before speaking. 

He went down a list of fifteen questions, to which I answered them all truthfully. He put his papers down and stared at me for a long time. I kept my hands on the table, my long fingers interlaced. 

“Newt? What’s the matter? We’ve known each other for nearly fifteen years…”

He nodded. “I know, I know. It’s not that.” 

“Then why are you taking so long to make up your mind. You know what I do, what I’m capable of. I know what you do, what you’re capable of. You know my cousin very well. If you can’t teach me, I’m sure she can... “

“Why do you want this job?” he suddenly asked, curiosity burning in his voice. “Why leave your job at the Ministry?” 

“I want this job because… I want something more fulfilling in life. I don’t… I don’t want to spend my entire life in politics, in police work, in… deciding who gets to keep their wand, their power? I want to do something that enriches my soul. I feel that’s needed, to have a good, happy life, don’t you?” I said. 

It wasn’t until I uttered those words, there in Newt’s small kitchen that I realized how true they were. I was afraid of giving my life over to the Ministry. Of my life having nothing more to show for it than a plaque or two, a portrait here or there. I wanted my life to feel like it was mine, that I was serving myself, as well as others. My job was never my reason to get out of bed in the morning, nor was anything else, and I wanted to change that. I wanted to wake up, and be thrilled for where I was going, and not just because of the status that job gave me. 

“I do,” he agreed with a head nod. “If you remember, my boggart was an office desk in school.” 

I grinned at the memory. “Yes. Dumbledore found it amusing.”

“And you? Clearly you aren’t one to fear a desk,” he noted.

“Newt, I left desk work a long time ago. I’m a hit witch now. My life has been out and about for some time now…”

“Then… why change? If you believe it’s satisfying.”

“Not all adventure is satisfying,” I retorted. 

He thought for just a moment, but then concurred. “This is true, I suppose. So you’re looking for the right adventure then, hmm?” 

“I suppose I am, yes,” I realized with a grin. 

“And you think you’d like it here?” he wondered, peering at me, gauging my response. 

“I do. I’ve always found your work fascinating. I love creatures, animals. Nora tells me you’re about to set off on another leg for your book, gathering information…” 

“But why… me? Why my work? You’re… you’re one of the greatest witches alive. I’ve never seen such talent. The way they talk about you at the Ministry. The way my brother talks about you… I can’t help but think you’re entirely too overqualified for this job, Rosaline.”

A tiny grin came to my face. 

“Newt… Your job is to study creatures, learn their behavior, their thinking, their eating, the way they sleep, where they live… And most people say you’re the best at what you do…”

He frowned for a moment, wondering where I was going with this. 

“How would you feel if someone told you that you were overqualified for your job? Would you step aside, and let someone else gather the information that you so lovingly gather all by yourself?”

“I think I’d--”

“Hate it? Loathe the idea of being forced to sit in an office? That’s how I feel…Being your assistant is fulfilling work, I’m sure. I wouldn’t let you down. I’d be here early. I’d read and learn all about the creatures…”  

After a second, he said, “I can’t pay you what you’re getting paid at the Ministry.”

“I didn’t even bring up salary,” I reminded with a soft grin. 

“So you’re willing to take a cut in pay, in status, all to… travel the world with me to find strange creatures?” he asked. Of course, he didn’t think the animals or critters were strange, but to most, they were, and he was trying to get to the bottom of why I wanted to leave a job I’d worked so hard for.

“There are no strange creatures, only strange people. People too dull not to see their beauty,” I noted, almost as if I weren’t answering him at all. Snapping out of my thought, I finally looked directly at him. “I know this isn’t orthodox. I’m sure if it were me, I would be incredulous too, but I’m not here for a temporary position. I’m not doing this on a whim. You know me, Newt.”

“I do.”

“You know I’m not doing this until I can figure out what I really want to do or any of that nonsense. I’ve had a change of heart, that’s all. My heart no longer seeks what the Ministry can offer me.” I stood up, taking a deep breath. “If you’d like to think on it though, review other applicants, I understand. These animals mean a great deal to you, and you can’t just hire anyone. Feel free to think it over, just keep me as a consideration…” 

I began to leave. I didn’t want to pressure him into hiring me. He had a right to think on my offer. 

When my hand hit the door handle, he suddenly spoke up behind me. 

“An hourglass, right? Your boggart… it was an hourglass, wasn’t it? Your biggest fear is time.” 

A grin popped onto my face. 

“Perhaps it was, Mr. Scamander. Let’s make sure this interview and offer wasn’t a waste of yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#the softest fire #newt scamander x oc #newt scamander fic #fantastic beasts fic

[delightfully-difficult-pirate]

Dada Hook

Merry Christmas @mayquita!

Tis I, your Secret Santa for @cssecretsanta2k19!  I have had a blast getting to know you.  I hope you enjoy this fluffy, Swan-Jones family Christmas fic.  It was partially inspired by my nieces and nephews.

Summary: On Christmas morning, Killian discovers that 2 year-old Hope Swan-Jones is a lot more observant than he thought. (Not S7 compliant)

AO3

**

          “Up! Up! Mama!  Dada! Up!”

          Still half asleep, Killian Jones smiled as he heard his daughter yell through the baby monitor.  He cracked open one eye and turned over in bed until he could see the small, digital screen that showed video of Hope’s room.   He saw Hope standing in her crib, little hands grasping the wooden rail, staring directly into the camera that linked to the tablet.  She was an observant little child and recently had worked out that she could get her parent’s attention by yelling at the camera.

          He felt Emma curl herself up against his back.  “What time is it?” she murmured against his shoulder.

          Killian squinted at the clock. “7:15 am.  She let us sleep in.”

          He heard Emma groan all the same.  She wasn’t a morning person.

          “I’ll get up with her,” he said as he started to remove himself from her embrace.  But her arms around him only tightened.              

          “No, it’s my turn.” She pushed away from his back and when she threw the blankets off, he felt a cold breeze against across his skin.  He shivered and reminded himself to check the houses heating system.  It may be winter, but there was no need for the house to be as cold as the Jolly Roger while at sea.

          Emma pulled a pair of lounge pants and a large Storybrooke Pet Shelter t-shirt on over her underwear.  “You got up with her the other night when she had that nightmare.”

          Killian grasped his wife’s hand as she headed toward the bedroom door.  “Regardless, love.  If you want to stay abed a bit longer, I am happy to entertain our little early bird so you can rest.”

          That earned him a smile.  “I’m already up.  Try and get some more sleep; we have a busy day ahead.” Emma gave him a quick kiss as she turned off the baby monitor and headed out.  

          Killian groaned and dramatically pulled the blanket up and over his head. He could hear Emma’s laugh as she made her way down to Hope’s room.

          A busy day…

          That was a bit of an understatement.

          It was Christmas, one of this realm’s winter holidays.

          It was a day filled with family, friends, many odd traditions, and copious amounts of food and drink.  He quite enjoyed the holiday, personally, especially the food and drink.  

          But last year had been a bit of a disaster.

          Emma, Henry, 1 year-old Hope, and himself had all gone over to Mary-Margaret and David’s house for an early Christmas brunch and to exchange gifts.  Afterwards, they’d all gone into town and had a small lunch at Granny’s.  They then continued onto Regina’s house, where the combined “royal family of Storybrooke” hosted a large Christmas party that the people of the town flitted in and out of the rest of the day.

          Normally, this would have been a long, if tiring, day.  But any event was made more complicated when there was a toddler involved.

          The excitement of the day had made getting Hope down for her afternoon nap nearly impossible.  It had taken over an hour to get her to sleep and she refused to stay asleep unless she was in either his or Emma’s arms.  Even then, she only slept half the normal amount of time she usually did.

          Which resulted in everyone having to deal with a very cranky toddler for the remainder of the holiday.  Tempers frayed, words were exchanged, and Killian had had to pull Emma out of the house and into the cold before she roasted the Christmas ham without the aid of an oven.  

          In the weeks leading up to this year’s event, he and Emma had made the decision to spend the morning at home and join the rest of their family after Hope’s nap.  Mary Margaret had been disappointed and tried to convince them otherwise.  David, however, had understood and had been instrumental in getting his wife to let them make their own decisions.  

          “Dada! Up! Dada get up!” Hope’s voice drifted down the hall, pulling him from his musing.  

          He heard Emma shushed her gently, “No duckling, let Dada sleep.”

          “No… Dada up!”

          The sound of Hope running down the hall told Killian that his time in bed was about to end.  But he decided to have some fun before his daughter dragged him out of it.  He settled himself down and pretended to be asleep.  

          “Dada!” He heard Hope yell as she ran into the room.  The bed shook as her tiny body barreled into the side of it. There was a soft tug on the blanket as she said, “Get up Dada! Get up!”

          Killian let out an exaggerated snore in response.  Her small, soft hands patted at his face.  Before she could move, Killian quickly wrapped his arm around her and pulled her onto the bed.  Hope shrieked in laughter.  

          “Don’t you know better than to wake a sleeping pirate?” He asked as he snuggled her close.  She smelled like baby powder and the soft lavender scent of the baby-specific detergent they used for her clothes only.  

          Hope babbled something too fast for him to understand completely, but he did make out the words “strawberries”, “pancakes”, and “newt”, the last being his daughter’s current word for milk, so he figured she was talking about what she wanted to breakfast.

          “I don’t know love, I’m very comfortable right here.  Why don’t you and Mama bring me breakfast in bed?” He winked at Emma as he said this and received a roll of the eyes in response.

          “No Dada.  Up!” Hope continued to insist.  She squirmed from his arms and out of bed.  Once on the ground again, she grasped his hand and pulled.  At the sight of her determination, Killian relented.

          “Alright, alright, you win.  I’m getting up,” he said as he moved the blankets aside.  He swung his legs over the side and sat on the edge of the bed. This seemed to satisfy Hope, who released his hand.  Killian ruffled her dark hair before stretching his arms above his head, hearing a few joints pop in the process.  His 200 years were finally catching up to him.

          As he brought his arms down, he noticed that Hope had a look on her face that he hadn’t seen before.  No, that was wrong.  He saw the same speculative look on Emma’s face every time she was presented with a new situation.

          He started to ask her what was wrong, but stopped when Hope slowly reached out and placed her hands on the blunted end of his left arm.  Her small fingers explored the scared skin, in much the same way Emma had the first time she had seen it.

          “Hooky.”

          Killian blinked, unsure at first if he heard Hope correctly.  

          “Hooky,” she repeated.

          He looked up at Emma, whose face now wore an identical expression to Hope.

          “I think she is wondering where your hook is,” Emma cautiously suggested.

          Killian frowned.  He knew Hope had seen him without his hook many times.  He wore the fake hand nearly as often as he wore the hook nowadays, especially when at home.  

          Hope poked at the end of his stump.  

          “Hooky.”  Her small voice was starting to take on a slightly hysterical edge, which both he and Emma knew meant that a meltdown was on its way.

          Without taking his eyes off of Hope, Killian stretched his arm out and pulled his brace from the drawer of his nightstand.  He places it on his lap, careful to position the point of the hook away from his daughter.  It’s duller now than it used to be, but it was still a weapon.

          Hope’s attention shifted and she placed one hand on the leather of the brace.  Her voice was soft as she almost whispers, “Hooky.”

          Killian nodded as he said, “Yes duckling, this is how Dada wears his hook.”

          Hope moved his arm closer to the brace.  Figuring out what she wants, Killian guided it onto his arm.  The straps of the harness that secure it hang loose, but Hope appeared much happier as soon as the brace and hook are on his arm.

          “Dada Hook,” she yelled, triumphant.

          Killian wraps both his arms around his daughter and pulls her close.  

          “Yes duckling.  Dada Hook,” he whispers against her hair.  He feels Emma’s arms encircle both of them. They stay that way for a moment, before Hope begins to wriggle.  

          “Henry up!” She says before running out of the room, presumably to go wake up Henry.  

          Without prompting, Emma positions and fastens the straps of the harness along his arm and shoulders.  This simple act help sooth some of the insecure feelings that had settled in his gut. Once finished, she placed a kiss on the back of his neck and said, “Come on, Dada Hook.  It’s time to have Christmas breakfast with your family.”

fin?

#csss2019 #csss #Lee writes #cs ff #captain swan #swan-jones family #captain swan secret santa #captain swan secret santa 2019

[newtthetranswriter]

Snow and Cuddels.

Word count:1333

Paring: Zora Ideale x reader

Summary: Snow day turned into cuddles with the best prankster who is allergic to wearing a shirt.

Warnings: Not much, cursing, mentions of colds and frostbite, maybe ooc Zora

A/n: Hello everyone, I hope you enjoy this. I am aware some of the bulls are not mentioned, i just couldn’t think of what to have them doing. Also this is my first time writing for Zora so it may be a little off, I’m hoping with this event to write for more fandoms and maybe get some requests in as well, but who knows. Anyway, have fun, enjoy and remember to Hydrate or Diedrate.

      Winter has finally arrived in the Clover Kingdom, and I couldn’t be happier. Playing in the snow with friends and family, baking cookies and making candy, and drinking hot chocolate, just some of the many fun things to do when winter hits. And of course today was the first day that there was a decent amount of snow, and Captain Yami kindly gave all of us at the Black Bulls hideout the day off.

      Charmy decided she’s going to be baking and cooking all day, Vanessa is already passed out drunk, Magna and Luck are fighting over whatever one of them did this time, Gouache is well being Gouche, Gordon is trying to hang with gouache but is just being creepy, and Gray is hiding from everything. The more rambunctious and childish of the group were outside in the snow, this included Asta trying to get Noelle to participate in a snowball fight, Finral has made a snow person he’s practicing his flirting with. That just leaves Me and my grumpy boyfriend who just wants to go inside because ‘shit it’s cold out here’, I’m trying to get him to enjoy the chilly weather but Zora being well himself refuses to, I don't know, put on a shirt and try to enjoy this free time.

     “Come on, Y/n why do you want to be out here it’s freezing. Why don’t we go lay down and cuddle? Or steal whatever Charmy has made for the day, we could also mess up Gouche’s creepy sister shrine again.” I turned to the red head slouched against the wall, rolling my eyes at him in response. “What are you even doing over there? It’s just snow, what can you possibly be doing with it?” He asked, pushing off the wall, moving to look over my shoulder.

     I lend further over my creation to hide it from him. “You don’t get to see it until it’s done. If you don’t want to be out here, you can go in if you want. If you really want to mess with the others, have fun, I’m enjoying it out here.” I tried to tell him he didn’t have to stay out here.

     “You know it’s not as fun if you’re not helping, plus you know where Vanessa hides her booze. Plus you could get sick if you stay out here too long.” Zora said, still trying to see the snow creation I was working on.

     “Why do you want Vanessa’s booze? You know what nevermind with that, but seriously if you want to go inside you can, I won’t blame you. I just hoped we could do something fun out here, instead of staying cooped up all day. And I won’t get sick, I’ll be fine.” I said, leaning back to show him what I had finished making.

     Zora paused processing the drawing I had carved in the patch of flat snow in front of me. It was a crescent moon along the side of one of his trap spells, to represent both of our magics, in the center was our initials. “I know it’s cheesy and won’t last long out here cause it will melt eventually, but it just popped into my head and I need to physically see it and show you. I was thinking we could maybe get it made into necklaces or something?” I explained my thinking. I hoped he understood what I was saying.

     “It’s amazing. But why draw it out here in the snow, if you want to get it made into necklaces or something you’re gonna have to draw it again on paper, why not wait till you go inside?” He asked, looking at me quizzically.

     I thought for a second before answering. “I just didn’t want to forget it plus, I want to stay out here as long as possible. Since I finished, would you want to pummel Asta with some snow balls?” I asked knowing he would want to cause some kind of trouble.

     He just groaned at the thought of being in the cold any longer. “Fine but after we bury him in the snow we are going inside and cuddling.” He answered standing up straight and offering me his hand to help me up.

     “Deal as long as we get Hot cocoa before cuddles.” I started moving behind a tree close to where Asta was now trying (and failing) to build a snowman. “Let’s hide from him here and make some snowballs, before we launch our attack.” I said bending down and beginning to make some roughly ball shaped clumps of snow to throw at the young boy.

     After about ten minutes of making and throwing snowballs at a screaming Asta, and him running over Finral. Zora and I decided it was time to go inside for the rest of the day and finally get some hot chocolate, mostly because Zora’s chest was now bright red from being in the cold for so long while shirtless.

     We made our way inside, snagging some cocoa and cookies from Charmy, before heading up to our shared room. I couldn’t help but laugh as the normally grumpy and closed off Zora dropped onto the bed sighing while thanking whoever assigned our room for it having walls without cracks so the cold couldn’t be felt inside it. 

     “You know if you put on a shirt you wouldn’t be so cold in the winter right?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I took a sip of my hot cocoa.

     He just rolled his eyes standing up and taking his mask off, walking over to me. “If I wore a shirt, you would be robbed of the second best sight known to man. The first being your face after I do this.” I was confused for a moment before he lent in, placing a kiss on my lips, before pulling away with a smirk. “See that’s the face, all shocked and confused.” He said turning back to the bed to pull the covers down. “Stop gaping like a fish and come lay down, I’m still fucking freezing and need your body heat so get over here.” He complained, laying down on his side of the bed having taken off the rest of his flashy clothes opting for a pair of sweatpants, he’s still shirtless but at least he’s under the blankets.

     I rolled my eyes moving to kick off my boots while hanging up my coat. Crawling under the covers I was met with very little warmth as Zora’s ice cube off a body sapped all the heat from the bed. “Holy fuck Zora you’re so fuckling cold.” I said moving to cuddle up to him. “I wouldn’t be shocked if you get frostbite or something, damn.” He just chuckled but pulled me closer, sighing at the fact that I was at least a little bit warmer than he was. “Next time we go out in the cold, will you at least wear a coat, it doesn't have to be zipped just enough to keep your arms warmer.” I tried to bargain with him.

     He paused before responding. “Fine, but I better get cuddles anyway.” I just nodded, now focused on warming him up while also trying not to fall asleep. “Go ahead and sleep. I'll be fine with you snuggled up to me being a space heater.” He said, rubbing my head. Letting out a yawn, I mumbled a quick I love you before falling asleep. The last thing I heard was Zora’s quiet response. “I love you, too, today was fun even if it was freezing.” He quickly followed suit in sleeping.

     The next day when  we woke up it became apparent that Zora was right about getting sick staying in the cold. But finally the jokes on him, cause he’s the one to wake up the sniffles and a slight fever. His pouting and grumbling could be heard throughout the hideout as he complained about it the rest of the day.

#x reader #black clover x reader #zora ideale x reader #zora ideale #black clover #Newt's Winter Fic Event #fluff #x gn reader

[hidetheteaspoons]

Secret Moments (In a Crowded Room) - Newtina

For @katisfania for the 2019 Newtina Gift Exchange! Apologies for the late post! This fic is based in part on Katy’s artwork found here. Happy New Year, Katy! 

Newt and Tina have kept their relationship private for months following the events of Paris. When an invitation to a Ministry ball arrives, Newt must decide whether or not to share with the world that Tina is his one and only. Lots of pining, fluff, and kissing.

Our secret moments in a crowded room They've got no idea about me and you

Newt and Tina had been inseparable for over three months. In the days and weeks following the tragedy at Père Lachaise, they, along with the rest of their group, had been broken beyond repair. Tina had graciously accepted a spare bedroom in Newt's London flat, while Jacob remained with Theseus. Yusef Kama and the young Maledictus, Nagini, had taken up temporary residence in Paris with Nicolas Flamel and his wife, Perenelle. Everyone had someone; no one was left alone in their grief.

Their initial weeks together in Newt's humble, but comfortable apartment had been torture for both of them. Tina spent quite a bit of time crying behind closed doors. When she did come out of her room, her eyes were red and her skin was pale. For the better part of a week, neither of them had an appetite. Meals were spent sitting at the table in silence, alternating stolen glances, and pushing food around their plates. Newt was perceptive enough to understand that if Tina wanted to talk to him, she would do so on her own terms, when she was ready. After everything they had been through together, Newt considered himself lucky to be in her presence. That was more than enough for him, for the time being.

Slowly, as the weeks dragged on, and everything seemed...slightly less horrible, Tina opened herself up to Newt. They cried together, went for walks together, and took care of his creatures together. Every waking moment was spent in each other’s presence, and neither of them would have things any other way. It was only a matter of time before their true feelings were revealed to each other and their relationship began. Newt was amazed that despite all the trials they faced, from the ashes, something wonderful grew between them. Things escalated rather quickly and the couple spent as much time as they could together, under the assumption that life was unpredictable and any moment could tear them apart. They wasted no time, but also kept their relationship to themselves, for now.

Tina had received a permit from MACUSA to remain and work in London and consult with Theseus’ team at the Ministry. Tina reported directly to Theseus regarding all matters directly tied to Grindelwald, Queenie, and Credence. By mid-December, there had been no new information. Tina threw herself into her work. Between searching for answers and spending time with Newt, she had little time to think of that September day when her life had changed for the worse.

One night just before the holidays, she pushed open the front door to Newt’s flat and shivered, letting the deep winter chill melt away from her clothes and her body. With a flick of her wand, her Auror coat flew to dry by the roaring fire in Newt’s cozy living room. Tina smiled when she saw the Niffler sniffing about in the hallway; the creature stopped and looked up to her, quickly scampering toward her in an excited greeting. “Hello you,” she cooed, taking the creature into her arms. “Where’s your mummy, hmm?”

Newt smiled warmly from the kitchen doorway, gazing at Tina with nothing but affection and admiration. He was reminded of the morning after Père Lachaise, when he and his companions had gathered at the fountain and Tina had so lovingly cradled the injured creature in her arms, as she would a small child.

Newt cleared his throat gently so as not to startle Tina, “I believe I was summoned?”

She smiled instantly when she heard his voice and approached him before placing a small peck on his cheek in greeting. She felt herself glowing from the inside out and reached a hand to her lips, where his warm skin had left a pleasant sensation.

Up until this point, Newt and Tina’s relationship had been less physical and more emotional. Though their relationship progressed quickly, they had explored other aspects on their own terms. Newt relished the feeling of Tina’s hand in his when they apparated to the Ministry together. Sometimes, they held on for just a bit longer than necessary. Tina would always greet Newt with a kiss on the cheek and he would affectionately push her hair away from her face, just as he’d done at the docks in New York. Yes, the physical aspect of their relationship was progressing nicely, but at times, they both wondered what it would be like to start something more; this was made difficult by the secrecy of their relationship. Their displays of affection were always private, and rarely public, so neither Jacob, Theseus, nor anyone else at the Ministry was aware of the true nature of their relationship.

“Hello there,” Tina greeted, placing the Niffler into Newt’s outstretched arms. “This fella was here to greet me when I got home.”

Home. Newt and Tina had been occupying the same space for weeks and yet he still shivered slightly whenever she referred to his flat as ‘home’. He’d never get tired of hearing that word on her lips.

“So I see…” he smirked, ushering the furry creature down the stairs toward his basement menagerie.

Tina noticed a gleam in Newt’s eyes that indicated that mischief was afoot. She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, tapping her foot impatiently. “Alright, Mister Scamander, out with it,” Newt felt a ripple of pleasure work its way down his spine when she addressed him by his surname in that commanding tone of voice.

Newt smiled shyly and threw his hands up, feigning innocence. Tina knew better. “I haven’t the foggiest-”

“Don’t you ‘I haven’t the foggiest’ me, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What are you not telling me?” She demanded to know, taking a step closer.

Newt sighed and pulled a rolled up piece of parchment from his pocket, “We’ve received an invitation,” he informed her.

“Mercy Lewis, an invitation to what?”

“Read it,” he implored, handing the parchment to her.

Tina murmured quietly as she read the invitation aloud, “Mr. Newton Artemis Fido (she quirked an eyebrow at him as she read his full name...they’d talk about that later) Scamander and Miss Porpentina Esther Goldstein...presence requested...formal attire...a New Year’s ball?!”

Newt simply nodded as Tina rolled the parchment and handed it back to him. “So the ministry is throwing a party and we’re all required to attend, is this what I’m gathering?”

He once again nodded in affirmation.

“Does this happen frequently?” Tina asked, referring to the invitation.

“More often than I’d like,” Newt responded through gritted teeth.

“I suppose I’ll need to find a dress for this occasion then…”

Briefly lost in the image of Tina in a glimmering ball gown, Newt simply smiled and nodded in response.

She once again narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head, laughing gently. “Come on Mister Scamander. Let’s see if we can scrounge up some dinner, shall we?”

***

The days followed quickly and the holidays passed in the blink of an eye. Newt and Tina secretly couldn’t wait for the last day of the year, as this would be their first official public event together. Though, for the sake of convenience, the couple had agreed to keep their interactions to a minimum so as not to arouse the suspicion of their coworkers and friends.

The night of the event, Newt dressed at Theseus’ house so that Tina could get ready and arrive on her own. With assistance from Jacob and his older brother, Newt dressed in a slim-fitting tuxedo and slicked back his unruly auburn locks. While giving his appearance a once-over in the mirror, Theseus came up behind Newt and clapped his hands down onto Newt’s shoulders. “She’s gonna love it mate,” Theseus said with a wink.

Newt turned to his brother, “What do you mean she…?”

“Don’t overthink it Newt, just trust me.”

Newt shook his head and the brothers turned to Jacob. “Alright youse guys, have lots of fun okay? I’ll just be sittin’ here, by myself, not enjoyin’ the festivities or nothin’.”

Newt matter-of-factly addressed their friend: “Jacob, did you really think you weren’t invited?”

The No-Maj nodded.

“You’re our guest Jacob, of course you’re invited,” Theseus chimed in. With that, the Scamander brothers outfitted their friend in a finely-tailored suit and the three men apparated to the Ministry.

***

At the same time, Tina was seated in her room at Newt’s apartment, wishing that Queenie was there to help her get ready. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. With a wordless spell, she charmed the dress hanging before her to make its way over her head and down her lean body. Once the dress was in place, she tied the back, smoothed it out, and applied the finishing touches: a hairpiece, rouge, and dark lipstick. When she was finally pleased with her appearance, Tina apparated away, eagerly anticipating the moment when she would see her beau.

Tina gasped as she entered the Ministry, which had been transfigured into a stunning ballroom filled with chandeliers, candles, and beautifully dressed witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes. The Auror took in the sights, the sounds, and the smells as she sauntered through the crowd, in search of one man in particular. She smiled when she saw him from a distance. He was turned away from her, but she could clearly make out the forms of the older Scamander brother and Jacob facing her direction. When Jacob’s eyes settled on Tina, his jaw dropped open in surprise, while Theseus jabbed him in the ribs.

Tina approached the group of men and made her presence known to Newt by clearing her throat. “Evening gentlemen,” she paused, smiling affectionately at the three men in front of her.

It felt like an eternity before Newt finally turned around to face her. The look on his face was worth every galleon she’d spent on the dress...and more. The magizoologist looked at her with stunned silence while his companions greeted Tina and slowly moved away from the couple. Newt was nursing a glass of red wine but nearly dropped it upon seeing the love of his life. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and whisk her away from this place, away from the prying eyes of the other men in the room.

Newt would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked Tina up and down, but look at her he did. He worked his way from her hair, which was neatly coiffed with a red headband that matched her dress. Her eyes were dark and smoky and her lips were stained the darkest of reds; she was vixen-like. He then fully appreciated the dress she wore. It was fiery crimson in color and tied around her neck. Newt couldn’t believe that a simple set of strings was the only thing holding the dress to her long, lean body. It clung in all the right places, accentuating her breasts, her hips, and her exquisite legs. The dress fell low, low, low on her back and drew his attention to other parts of her anatomy that he’d not yet had the pleasure of being introduced to. Finally, the slinky number draped to the floor and skimmed over a pair of matching T-strap heels that only made Tina’s legs appear longer and more elegant. She was a masterpiece.

The Auror blushed profusely and her gaze fell to the floor in anticipation of Newt’s reaction. For a brief moment, she felt self-conscious, unsure if she should have taken things this far. After all, they’d been building up to more intense interactions, but never anything like this. Her head snapped back up when she heard Newt clear his throat several times before he could articulate his thoughts. “Tina you...you look...I can’t…bugger…”. Upon realizing what he’d said, Newt quickly covered his tracks so as to avoid trouble. “No Tina, that wasn’t directed at you...it was me...I...Merlin, Tina, you look stunning.”

Tina stepped closer, boldly placing a hand on his chest and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek in greeting. She whispered in his ear as she did so, her breath warm against his skin, “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Upon pulling away from him, Tina noted the lopsided grin and the pink blush that overtook his cheeks, causing his freckles to pop more than usual. Tina turned to walk away, but Newt quickly grabbed her hand and whispered to her, “I know we agreed to minimal public interactions tonight, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you so long as you’re near me.”

“Shall we put that theory to the test Mister Scamander?” Tina asked coyly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Well, I suppose I could just -”. Tina was cut off by an unexpected voice from behind her.

“‘Scuse me, Miss Tina. I was wondering if I might be able to ask you for a dance?” A polished young man from the Auror department requested.

‘There was music playing? Bloody hell’, thought Newt. He had been so focused on Tina and her grand entrance, that he hadn’t even noticed the dancing that was taking place. Tina looked to Newt, eyes wide and questioning, waiting for him to make his move. Did he take charge and claim his lover? Or did he let the night slip away from them, with her in the arms of another man?

Newt broke eye contact with Tina and turned toward the gentleman. “I apologize, but Miss Goldstein is otherwise occupied this evening,” he stated matter-of-factly, as he gently slid his arm around her waist possessively, making sure to avoid contact with her bare skin. He firmly grasped her opposite hip and pulled her closer to him. Tina stared at him in awed surprise.

“So sorry Mister Scamander, I didn’t know,” the young man apologized, taking a step back from the couple.

“That’s quite alright...neither did I,” he responded as he turned to look at his love.

The young man faded back into the crowd without a second thought from Tina and Newt.

“Newt,” Tina whispered, “What about…”

“Shhh,” Newt responded, cutting her off. He moved a step closer, his arm still around her waist. His opposite hand reached up to gently cup her cheek. “I don’t want to hide anymore Tina. You’re not a prize to be won, but Merlin’s beard, I want to be the only man that gets the pleasure of dancing with you tonight. Especially when you look like...this…”

Tina smiled, and whispered back, “I don’t want to hide either...you’re the only one whose arms I want to be in tonight. Especially when you look like this…” she giggled, reaching up to run a hand over his gelled hair.

With that, Newt placed a hand on her lower back and guided her to the dance floor. Tina stood up straight and shivered when she felt his warm hand pressed against her bare skin. Other parts of her became keenly aware of the contact between them. Just like that, they danced, drank, and laughed the night away together, without a care in the world.

The end of the evening quickly approached and the countdown began. Just before all the muggle church bells clanged at midnight to usher in the new year, Tina led Newt to a quiet corner and apparated them to the front porch of Newt’s flat.

“Home,” she whispered as the bells sounded their last note, cheers of happy people rang out in the distance, and colorful lights filled the sky. There, in front of the space they shared, the couple had their very first (and certainly not their last) kiss. Newt leaned in and pecked Tina gently on the lips and pulled away to gauge her reaction. Tina’s eyes had grown dark and wanting as her arms wound their way around Newt’s neck and she pulled him back in for a longer, more passionate kiss.

Newt responded in kind and followed her lead. Ever the gentleman, he stopped and started again when she did. This went on for quite some time before Tina broke away breathlessly and murmured, “That was…”

Newt smiled and responded, “Wasn’t it?”, recalling a similar moment that had occurred not so long ago.

Tina laughed gently and leaned her forehead against his, letting her eyes fall closed. She felt the vibration in his chest as he spoke in a low rumble, “Happy New Year, my love.”

She kissed him gently and smiled as she did. As she pulled away, she responded, “Happy New Year, Newt.” He kissed her forehead in response.

“Now for the love of Mercy, will you PLEASE get me out of this dress, Mister Scamander?”

“I think that can be arranged, Miss Goldstein,” Newt said with a smile.

With that, he scooped her up, dress and all. He carried her to his bed, where they spent the rest of the evening getting lost in each other in the best possible way.

Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off

*NSFW sequel is a strong possibility? Let me know your thoughts!*

#2019 newtina gift exchange #newtina fanfiction #newtina fluff #newtina #newt scamander #tina goldstein #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #post-cog #katisfania

[daily-snitch]

The Daily Snitch – Friday, August 10, 2018

Fantastic Beasts – Actors and Movies: • Scamander brothers Newt and Theseus square off in Fantastic Beasts: Crimes of Grindelwald. • Related: New ‘Crimes of Grindelwald’ Photo Hints at Sibling Rivalry Between the Scamander Brothers! • Pottercast # 280: Grindelwald and the Sorcerer's Stone. • First Look: photos of 'Fantastic Beasts' baby nifflers released. • In related news: We dare you not to squee! (MuggleNet) • Fantastic Beasts 2 new set visit teases Paris trips, French ministry, Flamel and more. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: • Theater Round-up: 'Cursed Child' conjures record sales in Australia, Imogen Heap talks soundtrack and more. Communities: • The following fests are currently posting: hp_crossgenfest, hphet Mini Fest, rarepair_shorts Summer Wishlist Event • hp_drizzle is looking for one more art pinch-hitter. • interhouse_fest announced that Interhouse Fest will be postponed to Spring 2019 and a small Comment Fest will be run from September through the end of October. • rarepair_shorts posted a Reminder that the Summer Wishlist Event is posting through August 31. • hd_erised posted the Pinch-hitter Sign-ups for Harry/Draco Erised Winter Fest. • sirius_black posted a Reminder that today is the last day to prompt for the Sirius Black Fest. • hp_nextgen_fest announced that Prompting is now open. Masterlists and Weekly Round-ups: • wolfstar-bigbang posted the Week 2 Roundup. Fandom Recs: • williamsnickers recced a Lucius Malfoy & Cornelius Fudge gen fic (G). • melodyssister recced a Hermione Granger/Severus Snape fic (PG-13). Archive News: • The 2018 OTW Board Elections have started. • OTW: July Newsletter, Volume 126. • themasque posted New on The WIKTT Archives and a fundraiser. Essay/Meta: • Richa Venkatraman wrote What makes a Gryffindor? Just ask the Weasleys. • Laurie Beckoff wrote Weasley is our knight: parallels between Ron and Sir Gawain. General Fandom News: • bbtp_challenge announced that Bring Back the Porn is now also on Dreamwidth. (all fandoms) • Michelle Waters wrote The Harry Potter Film Concert Series Is a Magical Experience! (MuggleNet) • Natalie Dorner to narrate Harry Potter 'A History of Magic' audiobook. • Review & Giveaway: Geek Gear’s July World of Wizardry Unboxing! • Experience the Dark Arts this fall at the Warner Bros Studio Tour London. Nifty: • Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes present Extra Strength Solar Defense Elixir. • Snitchseeker's LEGO Harry Potter Aragog's lair set giveaway. (USA/Canada only) Please send your fandom news to the Daily Snitch. Our tumblr hashtag is # dailysnitch. We check the hashtag for each edition; please tag tumblr posts you want us to see and/or include in the Daily Snitch.

#daily snitch #dailysnitch #hp news #harry potter #wolfstar-bigbang #hphet #fandom recs

[terriblelifechoices]

Happy Monday, guys. I hope it was less Monday-ish than mine.  Have some comment fic. ;)

Written for the glorious @st00pz, partly as a follow up to baby Galahad meeting Helmine Weiss, aka MACUSA’s Ice Queen but mostly because the thought of someone telling Galahad “you used to be so cute when you were small” when he’s being a little shit as a junior Auror was too good to pass up on.

Originally posted on ao3 here.

The Eyrie, March 1947

“You seem awfully calm,” Red noted.

Galahad raised both eyebrows at him.  “Shouldn’t I be?”

“Most Aurors in your shoes are puking scared or pissed as hell right about now,” Red pointed out, easing the elevator to a stop.  He kept the elevator doors closed, waiting for Galahad’s answer.  “She ain’t going to go easy on youse.”

“I know,” Galahad said.  “I don’t want her to.”

“Your funeral,” Red told him, and opened the doors.

Galahad stepped out into the Eyrie, heading for the great double doors that lead to the Eagle’s Chamber.  They swung open just before he reached them, admitting Galahad into the room beyond.

Galahad understood why most Aurors hated the Eyrie.  Like most of the audience chambers in the Woolworth Building, the room was bigger on the inside than mere architecture should have allowed for.  Enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows lined the walls through the whole room, giving the impression that the Eyrie was exactly what it was named for -- an eagle’s nest high up on a cliffside, surrounded by nothing but the open sky beneath it.  Galahad could practically feel the bite of cold air at mountain altitudes kiss his skin, the wisps of clouds and mist floating by.

Galahad walked along the black marble path leading towards the dais and the woman who ruled the Eyrie.  The seats to either side of hers were empty, save for a court stenographer tucked discreetly off to one side.

Age had not slowed Director Weiss down one bit.  Her blonde hair had long since gone silver, but her winter-pale eyes were as cold and sharp as ever.  She reminded Galahad of Dad’s stories about the sidhe -- Director Weiss was winter court, through and through, cold and dangerous and terrifying.

But fair, Galahad thought.  Not always impartial, but scrupulously, meticulously, terrifyingly fair.

That was a sidhe trait, too.  Not for the first time, Galahad wondered if Director Weiss had a touch of the old blood, in addition to being one of the Twelve.

He stopped some ten or so feet away from the dais, coming to stand at rest before MACUSA’s Ice Queen.

“Galahad Graves,” Director Weiss said.  Her voice was clear and cold, cutting through the silence like a knife.  “You stand accused of disobey direct orders from a senior officer in the field.”

Galahad ground his teeth and said nothing.  It wasn’t his turn to speak yet.

“Your team was recently seconded for a joint international task force, under the direction of Auror Ethan Concannon, was it not?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Galahad said, resisting the urge to curse at the mere mention of Fucking Concannon.  “The Canadians had point on the investigation.  Auror Concannon was Senior Investigating Auror for the task force.”

“What was the purpose of the task force?”

There were days when Galahad really despised MACUSA’s love of bureaucratic minutia.  Surely anyone who wanted to know why he’d been called to the Eyrie already knew what the joint task force had been doing.

“Investigating an illegal magical beasts distribution ring,” Galahad answered.  “Waheela, specifically.”  He was just glad Uncle Newt had his hands full battling England’s Wizengamot over werewolf rights, or he’d have had more problems than just Fucking Concannon to deal with.

Uncle Newt didn’t share Uncle Theseus’ fondness for explosions, but they still happened around him an awful lot anyways.

“Auror Concannon accuses you of disobey direct orders, of jeopardizing the mission by redirecting mission assets, and worst of all, of suborning your fellow Aurors.”

Galahad snorted.

“Does mutiny amuse you, Auror Graves?” Director Weiss asked.

“No, ma’am,” Galahad said.  “It does not.”

“Then what, exactly, amuses you so?”

“Auror Concannon’s version of events, ma’am,” Galahad said.

Weiss looked down at the papers in front of her on the dais.  “Your version reads rather differently,” she noted.

“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Galahad, because it did.

“I note that it does not, at any point, dispute the charge regarding disobeying direct orders from a senior Auror.”

“No, ma’am.”

Director Weiss considered him for a long moment.  “The punishment for that is two weeks suspension without pay.”

Galahad hid a wince.  He wanted to buy Sam’s bridegift with his own funds, not draw on the Graves family vault.  Two weeks without pay would set him back a bit.

“I know, ma’am,” he said.  “It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

“So be it,” she said.  “Leave your badge with Director Graves.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Bishoff.  That will be all,” Director Weiss told the stenographer, who gathered up her things and left.  She waited until Bishoff had gone before she folded her arms across her chest and said, “What the hell, Galahad?”

Galahad set his jaw, stubborn.

“I know you know better than this,” she said.  “You could have caused an international incident!”

Director Graves had said something similar.  Bellowed, actually.

“Concannon’s a fucking moron,” Galahad said, resisting the urge to yell.  Yelling at department heads rarely did any good.

“There are plenty of morons in the world.  A good number of them will be your superiors.  The correct way of dealing with them does not include going rogue, taking over the op and deciding you only follow orders if you feel like it!”

“His plan would’ve gotten half his team and all of mine killed,” Galahad said flatly.  “Have you looked at Concannon’s mission history?  The only reason he’s been promoted is because he’s related to the Canadian Minister.  The man is a vainglorious jackass.”

“Concannon’s mission history is irrelevant.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but it really isn’t.  I talked to his Aurors before I looked into his mission history.  He’s got the highest rate of injury in his division.”  Galahad clenched his jaw.  It wasn’t his place to tell the Canadians how to run their operations, but he was a Graves.  He had a duty to protect his people, no matter what the cost.  “The Canadians might be content to let him do whatever he wants, but I’m not going to stand by and watch while he gets my teammates killed just to advance his career!”

“Even at the expense of your own?” Weiss demanded.

“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori,” Galahad reminded her.  Weiss was one of the Twelve.  She knew what it meant to grow up with those words carved bone deep.  “Sometimes we get killed in the line of duty.  That’s the job.  But that doesn’t mean our lives are coin to be spent so cheaply.”

Weiss sighed.  “I know,” she said.  “I did look at Concannon’s mission history.  Graves never should’ve agreed to the joint task force.”

“He didn’t want to,” Galahad said. “Trust me.”

Weiss was too dignified to make faces, but Galahad got the impression she would have rolled her eyes if she could have.  “Yes, yes.  The Director of Magical Security does not dictate international policy,” she said, in a perfect imitation of Dad.

“Telling people to fuck off isn’t a great international policy,” Galahad agreed.

Weiss snorted.  “He would, wouldn’t he?”

“Can you blame him?”

Weiss ignored that, which meant that she agreed with him.  She was never, ever going to say so, though, because she and Dad didn’t exactly get along professionally.  They were fine with one another personally, but Aurors and the Eyrie were never going to see eye to eye.

She descended from the dais, her movements smooth and predatory despite her age.  Helmine Weiss was not a witch to be trifled with.

Galahad offered her his arm.

Weiss took it, one corner of her mouth quirking up in a faint smile.  Up close, MACUSA’s Ice Queen barely came up to his shoulder.  It was strange, realizing that such a terrifying figure was so tiny.

“You used to be so cute, you know,” she complained.  It was a frequent complaint, good-natured and teasing.  Galahad had heard it ever since he joined the Aurors.

“I used to be a lot shorter, too,” Galahad pointed out.  “Now I can reach the cookie jar and Dad’s liquor cabinet.”

“I had high hopes you were going to take after your papa,” she continued, ignoring him.  “But no.  You’re a Graves, through and through, down to the martyr-like tendencies.”

“Hey,” Galahad protested.  “I’m not as bad as Dad.”  No one was as bad as Dad.

Weiss patted his head.  “Of course you’re not.”

Galahad counted it a personal victory that she hadn’t tried to pinch his cheeks.  “It really doesn’t surprise me that you and Dad get along so well.”

“Bite your tongue, Galahad Graves.  Your father is insufferable.”

“Yeah,” said Galahad.  “He likes you too.”

#my fic #comment fic #Galahad Graves #Possible 'verse #st00pz

[interlagostrack]

Drarry Fic Rec: Christmas (part II)

you can find part I here

A Dented Old Street Sign by orphanghost (27k):  Draco knows they aren’t the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.  At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow. For a moment they look like some sort of strange, many legged creature. An acromantula, or a particularly massive Blast-Ended Skrewt. Then Draco hears Pansy make a disgusted sound beside him and the light falls in a less blinding way, and Draco can see that it is actually Potter and the Weasel carrying a large couch between them, and Granger fluttering around them with her wand out, seeming concerned.

Reigning Champ by LadySlytherin (14k): If there’s one thing every Slytherin loves, it’s a good game. Too Hot was played at every party Slytherin House had hosted for years, and Draco had won every round since the first time he played. Pride in his title as Champion was to be expected. Stating it like a challenge in front of the returning Eighth-Year Gryffindors? Not Draco’s brightest move, to be sure. Combine the challenge with mistletoe, feminine wiles and secret plots, Ron Weasley’s temper, and an unexpected connection with a Dragonologist and Draco’s Christmas just got a whole lot more complicated!

Six Christmases by thistle_verse (5k): A year ago— even a few months ago— Harry would have heeded the note of warning in Malfoy’s voice. He would have been more careful. But care, he thought now, twisted and flowed with the change in landscape; like magic, it fed on a continual change of form.  

Wait for Me to Come Home by glittering_git (9k): Draco might not like the Christmas holidays that much, but he sure does like Potter. If only he could admit that to Potter, or even to himself. A non-linear story about recognising what has been right in front of you the whole time, and maybe, just maybe, being happier because of it.

All You Want for Christmas is Me by chibaken (7k): Harry Potter is rich enough to buy himself anything he wants, and so famous that he receives daily gifts from his fans. Whatever is a Secret Santa to do? Draco doesn’t know yet, but he’s going to figure it out.

A piece of woman advice by BloodyFlammable (3k): Harry attends the ministry Yule ball all by himself because he hadn’t got the guts to ask Draco out. Draco attends the ministry Yule ball with Pansy because Harry hadn’t got the guts to aks him out. Luna, Hermione and Pansy decide they need an intervention.

Mistletoe by xErised (6k): It’s Christmas when Draco finds the engagement ring.

All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (61k): Harry doesn’t have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

★

BONUS: WIPs

I’ll Floo Home for Christmas by jadepresley: The Ministry Christmas party is the biggest event of the year, and Harry absolutely does not want to plan it, and he certainly, one hundred percent, does not have a crush on Draco Malfoy.

Foolproof by leontina: All of Harry’s friends have gone away for the winter holidays, so when Draco Malfoy asks Harry if he wants to pretend to date him in order to piss off some bigots at a Malfoy family gathering, how can Harry say no?

★

other fic recs: x | x | x |

~ short fics: | x |

~ bonding: | x |

~ working together: | x |

~ Hogwarts eighth year: | x |

#drarry fic rec #drarry fanfic #fic rec #harry x draco #draco x harry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry squad #christmas #drarry #my fic recs

[anodyne-sunflower]

Daddy!Newt (an excuse to write smut)

Pairing: NewtxReader

Rating: M

A/N: Because @the-winter-avengerrrrr just begged for a daddy Newt fic lol ;) Enjoy my loves!!!!

Master list

“Lots of people do it, and they’re totally fine by the end of it.” Jacob blurted out, his cheeks tinged pink as he downed another shot. You stared at the larger man in awe, because he could certainly hold his alcohol well. That must’ve been his 7 or 8 shot…and he was barely hitting the tipsy stage.

“Jacob, I highly doubt anybody can take 20 shots and be completely fine by the end of it.” You laughed, spinning your half empty glass on the table.

By now, the whole lot of you were under the influence, and Queenie was dancing around the ballroom with Tina as the rest of the MACUSA entered the the dance floor. It was just another yearly event they put on, and as much as you disliked large parties, Tina had managed to convince you and Newt to tag along. And here you are now, tipsy, and completely in awe of Jacob’s drinking skills.

“Yeah yeah…” The baker said, waving you off as he patted Newt on the back. The hufflepuff pushed forward, spilling some of his whiskey as Jacob chuckled at him. “See, Newt’s got the right idea.”

With a sigh you eyed your boyfriend worriedly, because he typically wasn’t very good at holding his drink, and you could tell by the heavy lidded look he had, something wasn’t completely right.

While Queenie was busy pulling Jacob to the dance floor, you scooted closer to your love, and rubbed his back affectionately.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Two of these was enough.” You grabbed the glass from his hand, moving it far away from him so he couldn’t do any more damage. The wizard just glanced up at you, wavy hair a mess on his head as he grinned.

“You know darling…” He leaned closer, his breath hot on your lips. “Have you always been this beautiful?” His finger came up, and he clumsily ran the tips of his fingers over your pout. “Your lips…they’re so rosy, so full and I…”

His eyes grew a darker shade, and if it’s one thing you learned about your boyfriend it was that that look meant one thing: lust.

“Newt…” You tried to sound composed, but that look was so captivating. And his eyes the way they sparkled, arousal, and love swirled in them and it was taking all you had not to cave.

“Shh, my love…” Newt placed a single finger on your lips, smirking at you as he removed himself from the table. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up and along with him in his drunken haste.

“Where are we going?” A giggle escaped you, and you forgot everything and just followed the wizard eagerly as he rushed through the crowd of people.

You found yourself in the men’s bathroom, and Newt was busy trying to lock the door with a quick spell. But, in his current state his wand kept fumbling around his hand, but he finally mouthed the words of the spell, and you heard the click of the lock. Newt turned around, placing his wand in his mouth as he winked over at you.

“There, nothing to worry about.”

It came out muffled as the wand was settled between his lips, and you just laughed as he removed his overcoat, casting it off to the side without care. He sauntered over to you, slowly loosening his bow tie. For all the gentleness of the Hufflepuff, Newt certainly was rather demanding right now because once he was standing before you, he gestured towards your dress.

“Turn around.”

His tone was more dominant than usual, and there was something in the huskiness of it all that made your knees tremble. But, without question you did as you were told, turning around and pressing up against the marbled wall. Newt removed his wand from his mouth, and he placed it on the counter before he started to kiss at your neck. His lips dragged across your soft skin, nipping down around your pulse as you responded to his touch by arching your back.

“Newt, dear god…”

You could feel his curios hands gliding up the back of your thigh, fingertips hitting the curve of your ass and tickling along your spine. He clutched the buttons of your dress, undoing each one in a slow agonizing pace. You squirmed against the wall and his body, eager to get things heating up, but Newt just shook his head.

“You settle down now…”

Once he had your dress completely undone, he slid his hands along the bare skin of your back, leaving a hot trail of wet kisses as well. He slipped his hands under the shoulders of your dress, and easily pushed it off. It bundled around your ankles, leaving you clad in only your black lingerie and stockings. Newt took a step back, admiring the view of your ass as it stuck up just enough.

“Lovely as ever…” He purred out, and you looked back to smile at him as he began to unbutton his waistcoat. He shrugged it off, eyes never leaving yours as he did so. The wizard looked admittedly sexy doing his little striptease, and all you could do was bite on your lip to control the desires building in your lower abdomen.

Newt licked his lips, already thinking of all the things he wanted to do to you. You were absolute perfection, and he wanted to be sure you knew that by the end of the night. He began to lose patience with all the buttons, and when he finally got down to his shirt he just ripped it off, not caring if the buttons tore or not. He let it fall to the floor, and he twisted you around for a heated kiss that took your breath away.

“I like what this whiskey does to you.”

Newt chuckled, humming back in agreement as he ran a finger down your side, letting it slide under one of your lingerie straps and snapping it back against your thigh. You flinched at the slight sting, but it sent a nice tingle up your leg and into your inner thighs. His hands lowered to his belt, and he began to undo it as he tilted his head down.

“Darling, would you kindly get on your knees? For daddy.”

A blush erupted on your face, and you looked up at him with a hint of shock. It was almost unbelievable hearing that come from the wizard, and you almost swore you misheard him.

“W-what?”

Newt, in his drunken mind, just smirked down at you, undoing his pants and letting them slide down his legs along with his briefs. You watched as his cock sprang forward, the head leaking just a smidge of precum. Even without his request, you would’ve gladly sunk to your knees at that sight.

Newt, sensing your unease, cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly on the forehead. “Don’t worry my love, daddy’s here.”

And there it was again, that word. Where on earth did he ever even get an idea like that? And yet, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t affecting you. Because, the first time he said it, your lower half began to ache for a lot more than dirty talk.

Without a second thought, you slid against the wall, letting your knees slowly sink into the ground as his length became at eye level. You looked up at him, and his green eyes met your glance with a strong glint of desire. You curled your hand around him, enjoying the way his cock twitched in your hold. Newt sucked in a breath, eyes becoming heavy lidded as he stared eagerly down at you. Granting his wishes, you flicked your tongue across his slit, lapping up the pearls of cum that had already began to drip out. You closed your eyes, and wrapped your lips around his head as you sucked down. His moans were all you focused in on and as you took more of him in his hand came down to tangle into your hair.

“Oh, my love…that’s perfect.”

You moaned around his throbbing length, tongue flat against the underside as you sucked happily at him. His cock was heavy against your tongue, and you could feel the pulse of it. To steady yourself, you placed your hands on his waist, nails digging into his muscles as you bobbed your head back and forth. The wet sounds of your affections filled the room, and Newt slammed a hand into the wall as he tried hard not to give in to the pleasure too much.

“Mmm…” Your moans sent delicious vibrations up his cock, and he held your head tightly as he moved forward, fucking your mouth as gently as possible. But, just when you thought he’d let himself go, he slipped out of your lips, a string of cum seeping out and dripping down your chin.

Newt’s breath was labored, and he picked you up by your forearm and pushed you up against the wall. He tore your bra down around your waist, your breasts spilling out, and he wasted no time in showering you with kisses. He took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling around it, teeth gently biting down until you were a mess of whimpers under him.

His lips disconnected with a pop, and he took his full height once more. He unhooked the straps of your stockings, and slid your panties down until they joined the ranks of your other clothes. He eyed your sex with such a strong appetite, and his gaze drifted up along your waist and heaving chest. He met your eyes, and caressed your cheek lovingly.

“Beautiful.” You smiled at his compliment, and kissed the palm of his hand. “Not to bad yourself…” you stopped halfway into your sentence, but ultimately decided on what you wanted to say. “Daddy.”

The look he gave you was something you’d never forget, and with a low growl he cupped the back of your thighs, lifting you up against the wall. Your heels clicked on the marble, and a loud moan left your parted lips as he pushed the head of his length between your glistening folds. He slid across your slick entrance at first, his member brushing into your reddened clit. The feeling was overwhelming, and you arched into him for more.

“Daddy please…”

It was all Newt could possibly take, and he finally managed to slide into you, groaning deep in his throat as your heated walls accommodated him. How you both managed to keep this up in your alcohol clouded state was beyond you, but you never wanted this to end.

Newt bit at your neck, hips harshly pushing into you as skin slapped against skin. He had no clue where he was going, he was far too busy thrusting wildly into your warmth. But, the wizard fumbled around the bathroom, hitting you both against walls until he finally had you up against the counters where he promptly picked up his pace.

“N-…” His name almost slipped your lips amongst all the pleasure, but that smoldering look he gave you made you stop. And as he pushed into you hard, you cried out the title he seemed to favor most right now.

“Daddy…”

He groaned at the word, and he latched his lips and teeth onto your already bruised neck as he thrust forward. Your walls clenched so tightly around him, you could almost feel the pulsing of his cock, and as he pulled out every single detail of his length was felt.

“Bloody hell, you’re so…” He gasped out, his face now inches from yours as he tried to keep himself from coming just then. His soft lips brushed across yours, and you mumbled incoherent words into his mouth. Whatever they were, he seemed to understand enough because he gripped your ass and pulled you forward, his cock shoving hard into you the sounds of your slick juices could be heard as they dripped around him.

“Oh god!…” A cry was all you could muster, and you shivered uncontrollably as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you. Pleasure ran throughout your body, hips bucking up and into him as you tried to coax him to hit it again, and did he ever. Newt was frantically moving now, sweat dripping from his forehead as he growled between gritted teeth. You were so tight, and so warm it was maddening, and it took all his willpower not to cum.

“Darling, you’re so tight…” His words came out in pants, lips parted, and in that moment he was almost like an animal himself. You curled your fingers into his red hair, roughly tugging him into your lips as your tongues collided. He traced around your mouth, tip of his tongue smoothly running across your own as you both moaned.

“I’m so close.” You whimpered, clutching his shoulders tightly as your body slid across the sink with each thrust of his hips. A knock at the door gained both of your attention, and Newt just kept going, not caring in the slightest in his influenced state.

“So…so sorry, unh…” He tried to get the words out, but you purposely clenched your heat around him, gaining a nice spank to your backside from the wizard. You giggled into his neck, his head currently turned towards the door as he finished his sentence.

“It’s currently occupied…my apologies.”

Chuckles filled the bathroom, both of you laughing at the string of curses that left the man on the other side of the door, but thankfully he walked away.

“You’re awful, Mr. Scamander.”

Newt just grinned, kissing you firmly on the lips. “Daddy’s in the middle of something.”

The way he said that word made tingles shoot up your spine, and you leaned forward as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Then finish up, daddy…”

Newt bit at his bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily as he pulled you against him. He picked up where he left off, eyes traveling down to watch your breasts bounce as he finished you off. The constant attention to your sweet spot was beginning to become too much, and you threw your head back against the mirror as your thighs trembled, your inner walls spasming around Newt, and juices flowing onto his swollen length as you cried his name out.

It was enough to send the hufflepuff over the edge, and his thrusts became sporadic as he came. He made sure you took every last drop of his seed, and he held your thighs tightly as he pushed forward one last time with a soft groan.

He fell against you, your sweaty bodies slick against each other as you tried catching your breaths. His cheek was nestled against your breast, and he closed his eyes as he tried to stop the sudden waves of dizziness that overcame him. In the rush of all the pleasure the more unpleasant effects of the alcohol hadn’t shown themselves, but now they were back and Newt groaned into you at the feeling.

You giggled, playing with his now sweaty hair as you spoke.

“We should get you home, love.”

“Mmm…”

Newt moved away from you, smiling his adorable smile as he reached for both your clothes. Once you were both dressed, you figured you had to think of an excuse to give to your friends, that’s if they were even still around. You weren’t even sure what time it was now. Newt sluggishly threw his overcoat on, not even bothering with his messy bow tie as he staggered over to you. You lovingly patted his head, giving him a quick wink as you pulled him out of the bathroom.

“Don’t worry, love. Mum’s here.”

Newt just chuckled at you, pulling you close to him as you both walked back into the ballroom.

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