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vacantgodling · 1 month

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right, sexualities of all my MAIN characters from ALL my wips (as i can best describe them)

i'm leaving out rouge ocs like stellan or lauchlan just cuz they don't have a story they're just vibing lol. i'm also leaving out ones where i genuinely don't know yet like itri or seamus.

hyacinthus shrapnel (paramour) -> gay but extremely picky. he was wholly uninterested in sexuality and sex AT ALL until amon

amon (paramour) -> gay and he’s being very whorish about it

lavendula calderon (requiem for the monochrome) -> bisexual but hasn’t really been able to explore her attraction to non-men until the story starts.

erecia (requiem for the monochrome) -> straight-lesbian. she’s butch & troibemme (nb in this universe) but would consider herself bigender she/he in our terminology and fully considers herself both a man and a woman at the same time. she would honestly prefer the label straight-lesbian more than sapphic bc she’s not a woman all the time and that speaks to her experience more than anything.

narcissus spokes (prim & provocative) -> aro-graysexual (sex and romance positive). it’s something she comes to discover throughout her narrative. she doesn’t really experience or feel romance or desire for sex in a traditional way; she desires being wanted so she wants those things for herself but she doesn’t experience the actual attraction herself. she didn’t realize it bc on paper before her divorce, she didn’t have to question any of it—being with myrtus and being casually intimate but never hot and heavy seriously never bothered her. once he leaves though, through meeting new friends (i’m cooking) and generally going through it grants her new perspective.

tagetes gunn (empire) -> aroace (kink positive). the only attraction they have is to power.

kirsi sunniva (alizath) -> bisexual, with a preference for mascs

quill (teardrops of the gods) -> bisexual, with a preference for femmes

darren de leon (vampires don't take roadtrips) -> bisexual with a preference for mascs. he actually thought he was gay for most of his life until he turned like 14 and then he realized "oh, girls are kinda hot too"

julissa vaughn (donut wip) -> bisexual & polyamorous. the dream ending of this wip is her, joaquin, andres, saul and daisy ending up in a quintouple but alas.

noi randiche (noi, alone) -> nblm. they're nonbinary and they like men so. they don't really like labels anyway, but if they had to describe it that's what they'd say.

jenna magboo (jenna the reaper / jenna the witch king) -> bi-ace lesbian. she and carlos are in a qpr basically but in terms of fleeting romantic feelings she'd align more with lesbian (all of her 'crushes' have been women or femme-aligning but she doesn't experience attraction That strongly) but she also doesn't think she's had enough experience to say she's not bi also. lesbian is an important label to her especially because both of her mothers are lesbian, but she also knows she's young and likes the complexity of her labels.

carlos carvalho (jenna the reaper / jenna the witch king) -> aroace (sex/romance repulsed). in a qpr and is a caretaker of jenna - though when i say they're in a qpr its a very unspoken thing between them. like, jenna's whole goal is to become a witch and then make carlos her familiar so they're never separated, so i think that's very explicit about what they are to each other pff.

n blackburn (dead rites) -> the way that n barely registers his sexuality bc he's married to his work LMAOOOO. he'd say that he's pan, it really has more to do with the mental connection than physical attraction for him so anything is fair game (but again... married to his work actually)

beau bellerose (dead rites) -> gay gay homosexual gay

jihan (supernatural dads) -> pan, he's too old to have a preference and he's very open to experimenting.

hue rvynwell (supernatural dads) -> gay and he definitely had a crisis about it when he was growing up. however in his family it was such a nonissue LMAO they were like "why the hell would we care about that just make sure you have a kid" and whaddya know, he had 2!

piper fairwind (tcol) -> queer probably but she doesn't really think about any of that. if she were in our world, labels would be like the most meaningless shit to her LMAO.

san dearborn (tcol) -> aro-queer. romance is just not something she can wrap her head around however she does get into a... teammate with benefits relationship in book 2 that i think is funny as fuck.

deux undershield (tcol) -> literally the first cishet character to appear on this list LMAO

forte symphonia (tcol) -> bisexual

clear brightendale (tcol) -> gay and he's hiding So Deep in the closet he needs someone to tell him its ok to come out lmaooo (aka: literally everyone)

di absyna (lukewarm rejection) -> gay but at what cost (his strict religious parents being generally horrible is one cost pff)

toph (lukewarm rejection) -> bisexual and a menace, but mostly attracted to mascs.

nyseah nicoletti (nondisclosure) -> she's trans heteroflexible basically. she's mostly attracted to guys but she also definitely cares more about a connection than anything else so she's open to exploring. (also she's pff married to my partner they love her LMAO)

donte macbride (nondisclosure) -> gay but more than being gay, he's fucking exhausted.

alona springwell (nondisclosure) -> the second cishet to appear on this list LMAO.

dagmar (celestial weddings) -> being mspec and polyamorous is literally just the default sexuality of the world of celestial weddings so yeeee.

graves (the graves we dug) -> FAGGOT COWBOY YEEHAW. pff but yeah he's gay. and sad.

dove (the graves we dug) -> another faggot cowboy lmao he's gay.

calvin im (purple haze) -> the first cishet dude on this list

jake deluna (purple haze) -> bisexual but he has a rough time coming to terms with this.

nevaeh (god eater) -> tbh i don't think nevaeh even knows what sexuality is (being a beacon of paradise is a very isolating lot in life) but i think they're probably gray across the board. the idea of romance or sex isn't really something they have much of a concept in their brain yet but they're curious about it.

little bear (god eater) -> mspec polyamorous; he doesn't really have time for relationships most of the time but he's definitely open to being ridden by anyone who wants to give it a go.

taj (god eater) -> pan and very in... some sort of codependent infatuation with thei.

thei (god eater) -> pan and tired. in a codependency relationship thing with taj.

lennon rhapsody granger (gothica) -> a surprise cishet appears.

aurora o'rion (gothica) -> bisexual and a whore about it

morrigan briarcos (gothica) -> gay and longsuffering. lennon is his (1) exception.

chidori jonson (train master chidori) -> just generally considers himself queer :)

nyoka (the virgin of mt heredosa) -> demi. its verin or bust.

verin (the virgin of mt heredosa) -> mspec but he's a centuries old god so like the concept of sexuality is mostly funny to him. he likes what he likes.

red (red death and the oracle's favor) -> aroace (sex repulsed bc of trauma). her and hel are in a qpr and i'm obsessed with them and their relationship

hel (red death and the oracle's favor) -> gay but loves red more than he loves dick and that's saying something. he doesn't expect her to say it back or feel the same as him but she cares about him in her own way and he's extremely not normal about it. he also wants to jump arden's bones and Did.

arden (red death and the oracle's favor) -> gay but he can't be gay and the king so he's very closeted. not unaccepting of it but he definitely is not talking about it and only allows himself to indulge with hel under the cover of darkness.

ranger pellish (sixteen candles) -> aro-bisexual and Very sex positive. he's such a slut and he lives by that. him and nan are basically a qpr.

nanette rosenfeld (sixteen candles) -> lesbian but she & range are inseperable and she's definitely given him the strap on many occasion to make him shut the hell up.

tuker hayes (sixteen candles) -> disaster bi with a 13 year long crush on vani he's hopeless.

vanilla vega (sixteen candles) -> demi-pansexual <3

roger grant (sixteen candles) -> probably not straight but is he willing to admit that to himself right now? absolutely not :DDDD

marvin (marvin & linda) -> sexuality doesn't matter because the company is more important (probably gay but yknow. his identity is kind of irrelevant to him)

linda / stephen (marvin & linda) -> mspec but marvin's the first person he's had a connection with on a romantic level.

prosper morning (the white shirts) -> hasn't thought about it too hard, but he definitely thinks marin is attractive and he Hates That a lot.

jane morning (the white shirts) -> she hasn't thought about it before so unknown

marin (the white shirts) -> gay asf

noh bell (noble) -> gay gay homosexual gay space super solider teehee.

peri (peri & dandy) -> outside of dandy, most lifetimes he's demi-gay. but he's really only ever attracted to dandy

dandy (peri & dandy) -> outside of dandy he's pan but he's also only ever looking for peri and only sleeps with people who have "peri energy" (whatever the hell that means lmao)

utah (broken clouds) -> fagggggggggggggggggg

gator (broken clouds) -> faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggg

slug (broken clouds) -> literally they don't know or care about any of that.

sjaak de witte (btaf) -> if he were in modern times, he'd be bisexual probably. and suffering.

biscella (btaf) -> another surprise cishet but i think in modern times she'd also probably be bi i just don't think in the canon verse she had the thought or bandwidth to explore her attraction to women (much to azelie's sadness)

#dude idk what to tag this as PFF #character stats #ig #idk

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inkstainedfanfics · 7 years

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A New Boy

Request: angst anon here!! i would love a yule ball imagine (although its a rare occasion) where the reader turns down all the "popular guys" for newt, but he ends up having a ball (hah) with leta instead? and she like ends up going with a popular guy and dances with him and actually has fun and newt is lowkey hurt?? hopefully that made sense haha. please and thank you 💗 btw i saw the tag on "i do... not" and you are just the sweetest little thing!! i will never stop giving you these random ideas 😊

Word Count: 6,887

Pairing: Reader x OC, Newt x Leta

Requested by: @aurrorgoldstein

Tag List: @dont-give-a-bother @red-roses-and-stories @caseoffics @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ly--canthrope @studyforthreehands @whatinbenaddiction @benniesgalaxy @thosefantasticbeast2

WARNING: Language

I know the world seems cold and empty, but I promise you, if you search for the light, you will one day find it.

The corridors of Hogwarts are empty, chilly, a quick breeze somehow bursting through them. A ghost, you figure, digging your nails into your palm and praying they leave you alone. On a night like this, with such a mission in your head, you do not want to be bothered.

Night is quickly dropping her blanket over the sky outside, and most students have already scurried to bed, their voices whispering of the night upcoming, of the dance, the ball, the evening you’re dreading. With quick steps, you find yourself climbing to the Gryffindor common room, muttering the password, and clambering through.

It’s hot inside, the fireplace roaring up with a loud orchestra of clicks and pops and even a few snaps. Few students linger, but the ones that do, that are also dateless for the ball tomorrow, are draped over the maroon couches and royal red chairs, heads popping up to view your intrusion.

“Sorry,” you murmur, cheeks heating up, “but has anyone seen Michael Rodgers?”

One boy, a fifth year you recognize vaguely from classes, lazily raises his head and eyes you once over. “You’re here to talk to him?”

“I don’t see why I would ask for him otherwise.” The words earn a snicker from the others in the room, who drop their heads but leave their ears pointing in your direction.

“I suppose,” the boy sighs, shoving himself to his feet, “I could go see if he’s up, but no promises.”

You nod, biting your cheek. That’s all you can ask for, someone to check.

The common room grows silent save for the fire and the occasional grumble of a student studying their textbook. You wait in silence, back burning from the heat of the flames though you’re quite a few feet away. Your hands begin to sweat as you imagine the look you’ll receive when you deliver the news tomorrow, but you shove it from your mind, focusing instead on breathing deep. Newt told you first, remember, so he has no right to be upset.

You’d kept your ear to the ground, listening for some sort of sign that Michael had found himself another girl. The most popular Gryffindor, constantly joking and laughing and goofing around as the boys in your year are prone to doing, should have another girl to take with him to the ball, but after you’d told him no, your own heart set on another, he’d told you he’d wait forever, teasing you with a grin and a hand clutched over his heart. You hadn’t believed him, had expected him to ask another, but he never had. You’re certain you would have heard of that.

The stairs groan, and down stumbles a weary eyed boy, his brown hair a mess and sticking up on one side while the other’s patted flat. He rubs his eyes, but bursts into a smile when he sees you, instantly making a beeline for your side.

“Sorry I don’t look the best right now. I can’t say I was expecting a beautiful visitor so late at night.”

“It’s not even curfew.” You mumble, cheeks heating up. Oh Merlin, why does he have such an effect on you? You’re not even that attracted to him.

But maybe it has something to do with the adorable way he covers his mouth when he yawns or how he offers his elbow to you like a gentleman even while in his black, ratty Holyhead Harpies t-shirt and a pair of flannel sweatpants. “If that’s the case, we have plenty of time for a walk, then, right?”

You hesitate. Taking his elbow could mean agreeing to be his date, but that’s the entire reason you came, isn’t it? To find yourself a Yule ball date?

Biting your lip, you decide that this is right, and rest a hand on his arm, allowing him to lead you to the portrait and out into the darkening hall.

“So, how have you been? I didn’t see you in classes today.” His brows furrow in concern. “Are you all right? Were you sick?”

He noticed your absence in transfiguration? You’re touched, especially since Newt hardly commented on it over all of lunch. “I’m all right, thank you.”

He smiles down. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want you to not feel well.”

“Thanks.” You murmur, eyes darting over the paintings on the wall. Not many paintings fill this part of the castle, but the ones that do are portraits.

“You like them?”

“The portraits?” You shrug, hand tightening the slightest around his arm. “They’re okay.”

“Okay? You’re coming to my tower and calling the portraits just okay? I must say, I’m a bit insulted.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing, too used to it after years of classes together. “Yes, well, I guess Gryffindors just don’t know how to decorate.”

He raises his eyebrows, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “We don’t, huh?”

“Nope.” You enjoy it, this ease of banter between the two of you.

“Then obviously you weren’t in the common room long enough. I’m sorry, but does any other house have an obnoxious amount of lions’ heads carved into bookshelves, window sills, couches, chairs, steps, ceilings, cupboards, doorframes, baskets, benches, doors, bedposts, curtains…”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” You interrupt, but he keeps going, leading you down the corridor and starting down a stairway.

“Book covers, and candle holders? Hell, even some of our bricks have lions’ heads engraved on them. Tell me, does your house have anything so ornate and insufferably vain?”

You can’t help the soft laugh that breaks out from between your lips. “No. We try to be a little subtler about our house pride.”

He beams. “See? I’m right, then. Gryffindors are obviously the best interior decorators in this entire castle. I’d even argue we’re better than Professor Merrythought and her billions of tanks of ‘scary’ and ‘dangerous’ creatures.”

“Michael,” you say with a giggle, “they can actually kill you if you aren’t careful.”

“Psh, nothing can kill me. I’m invincible, you know.”

“Oh really? So it wasn’t you I heard scream like a first year when the beast latched onto your arm?”

“Me? Scream? No. No, if it did bite me, you would’ve hear a manly shout and then the beast would’ve been right back in its tank. Of course, that’s all dependent on whether I chose to let it grab me or not.”

“Oh, it wasn’t at all in any way a surprise attack?”

“Are you kidding me? I planned the entire thing. I figured it’d be best if I showed the class how dangerous the creature is, you know, to keep anyone else from embarrassing themselves by screaming.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you step onto the third-floor landing. “Whatever.”

“It’s true, I’m serious.”

“Oh no, I completely believe you.”

He narrows his eyes at you, making a weird face to make you laugh. “I don’t think you do.”

“No, I do. Promise.”

He smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkling and only enhancing the charm of his boyish features. “I guess I have to trust a lady means what she says.”

You glance around, cheeks suddenly heating up from the way he’s looking at you: so sweet, a warmth in his eyes and a smile on his mouth just from knowing you’re around him. It’s so kind, so natural, that you feel you’re intruding on his thoughts just by noticing it.

He swallows, then interrupts the quiet that had fallen between the two of you for a few feet. “So, the place I wanted to take you is just around the corner, here.”

“You had a plan this entire time?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not a complete imbecile.”

“Just a small one?”

He smiles slightly, but there’s no sign of the usual joking or teasing there. “Only around you.”

Your heart stumbles forward at his gaze, and you find yourself suddenly very aware of the grip you still have on his arm and how near the two of you are, alone save for a few Ravenclaw students peering curiously down the hall, watching the two of you. “Well,” you manage to mumble out, “where are you bringing me?”

He steps around the corner. “Here.”

You follow his gaze, mouth dropping at the sight. Painting upon painting fills the wall, some moving, others not, but all just beautiful as the next.

Michael runs his free hand through his hair. “I guess I was right. You haven’t been down here before, have you?”

Shaking your head, you step away from his side to get a closer look at a row of paintings.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“They’re gorgeous.” You say, the words breathless. One in particular, a painting of the sea and a sunset, captures your eye. It’s a mix of brilliant blues and solemn purples, its simplicity its most beautiful factor. A tiny sailboat, hardly visible at first, bobs up and down, a speck of white in a sea of cerulean and violet.

Michael notices your gaze. “The sailboat one? That’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s amazing.” You mumble, stepping back to view the others on the wall.

You’re not sure how long you look at all the paintings, hyper aware of Michael’s arm every time it brushes yours, but you wish it didn’t have to end so soon. The loud booms of bells, a warning that curfew is but a few minutes away, bounce through the corridor, marking the end of your… well, you aren’t sure what exactly to call it. It certainly feels like more than a simple outing now.

“And that, my lady, signals that our time together is ending.” He says it with a smile, but there’s a sort of disappointment lurking in his expression.

You ignore the flutter of nerves at the sight. “Wait, Michael, before you go…”

“Yes?”

Oh Merlin, are you really going to do this? Ask someone to a ball? It had seemed like it would be so simple earlier, before he took you on a walk, before he showed you this beautiful artwork and asked how you are and just made himself so damn adorable.

You open your mouth, working up the nerve to spit the words out, when you notice a person in the shadows behind Michael, halfway down the corridor, tall and slouching, watching the two of you. Anger and hurt flare up inside you at the sight of someone you’d avoided thus far.

“So, Newt, do you have an idea of who you’re going to ask?” You lean back against the couch, letting your textbook fall shut on the table, waiting for the question. He must have something special planned, but you just wish he’d go ahead and ask already. You’ve had to turn down four other boys, and seeing Michael Rodger’s expression today in transfiguration was painful.

“What do you mean?” He asks, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

Fine, you’ll bite. “To the Yule ball.”

He clears his throat and mumbles something.

“What?”

“I already did.”

You freeze, that confidence in your best friend slowly fading. “You… you asked someone?”

He stops writing but doesn’t look up at you. “Yes. Leta Lestrange and I are going together.”

“Oh.” You feel like a complete and utter fool. He isn’t planning on asking you, never was. All those other people just expect you and Newt to attend together, but now he’s going to show up with another girl on his arm and, thanks to your assumptions, you’ll be alone.

“Sorry.” He flashes an apologetic grin at you. “I thought you already had a date.”

You scowl at the words, suddenly angry. No, he didn’t, because you’d told him the day before that you had no one to go with, that you were alone so far. He’s lying to you, and he knows it.

Gritting your teeth, you shove yourself to your feet, fighting back tears of anger and humiliation. “Great. Good for you, Newt. I’m glad you’re going with someone.” Then, before he can do anything, you storm off to the dormitories, hoping to forget about the moment.

Summoning that resentment, you focus on Michael again. “I was wondering if you’d go to the Yule ball with me. I, um, I would love to go with you.” You’d rehearsed the final sentence before, but it surprises you now that you find you mean it: going with Michael would be fun.

His smile warms your chest, and eases the terror squeezing your heart. “I’d be honored to go with you.”

You let out your held breath. “Good. I mean, okay, awesome. I, um, I’m glad, you know. I think we’ll have fun together and –“ Merlin’s beard, why can’t you stop rambling?

Michael laughs, but it’s not mean-spirited. No, it’s a laugh more similar to the laugh a person has when they see a puppy doing something cute. “You can take a moment to breathe.”

You snap your mouth shut, wondering the whole while how boys manage to do this. It’s utterly terrifying.

Michael holds his smile for a moment longer before letting it fade, looking at his slippers – how had you not noticed them before – and kicking one against the stone floor. “Listen, I guess I’m just wondering, you know, if I’m… if you’re…” he shakes his head, “Sorry, I don’t know how to word this.”

“You can take a moment to breathe.” You tease, your own heart pounding.

He breaks into an easy grin. “Using my own words against me? Harsh.”

“You’d do the same to me.”

“I would.” His wicked grin is back, lighting up his eyes with a mischievous glint.

“Listen, I just wanted to know if you’re asking so you don’t go alone, or because you honestly want to go with me.”

You don’t have to consider the question, already know that it’s because of him. “I want to go with you.”

He lights up, straightening and taking a deep breath. “Cool. That’s what I was hoping.”

The second set of bells wind through the corridor. Shoot.

“I have to go.” You murmur, but Michael reaches for your hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“Sure.” A thrill shoots through your chest. It’s a combination of the late hour and the nerves and the fact that you have a date now that’s causing this excitement, you remind yourself. It has absolutely nothing to do with how cute Michael might be right now. Then he proves you totally wrong.

He grins, wavering for a moment before suddenly leaning in and pecking a kiss against your cheek. “I’ll meet you outside your common room at seven tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You mumble, breathless. The sweet smell of his cologne lingers in the air around you as he smiles, nods, and turns away, disappearing down the corridor with a final wave over his shoulder.

You’re weak-kneed, eyes wide. Holy niffler, you’re going to the Yule ball with Michael Rodgers, the most popular boy in your year, and you may even like him.

You wander away from the art, mind still stuck on the cute gleam in his eyes and the way he took a deep breath, as though calming nerves, after you told him you wanted to go with him, not just anybody. Oh Merlin, how? How did this happen?

“There you are.”

You jump, wrenching your arm away from the touch that lands on it, reaching for your wand before you realize the person at your side. You’d completely forgotten Newt was in the hall. “Sweet occamy eggs, Newt, what are you doing creeping up on a person like that?”

“I was worried about you.” He murmurs, mouth turned down in a frown. “You didn’t stop by tonight to exchange notes.”

Shoot. The experiment. You hadn’t stopped by to examine the subject. “I had something else to do.”

He shoves his hands into his pocket, eyes focused on the glow of the candlelight on the stone floor. “Out with Michael Rodgers?”

“Yes.” You mutter.

“Why?” Newt asks, trying, you assume, to sound casual, but there’s a tinge to it, some emotion you can’t quite pinpoint.

“I had a question for him.” You eye Newt from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression.

“About the transfiguration homework?”

“No.” You pause, unsure about continuing, but deciding that you may as well; he’ll find out eventually. “About the Yule ball.”

He whips his head around. “Sorry?”

You don’t stop walking through he stops in his tracks. “I said that it was about the Yule ball.”

He hurries to your side. “Did you find out who he’s going with?”

“Of course.” You try to keep your patience. He was there in the hall. He must have drawn the proper conclusion, so why is he questioning you?

“Who?”

“Me.”

“You?”

You whirl on him. “Me, Newt. He’s going with me. Is that so hard to believe?”

“You’re going with Rodgers? Aren’t you a little late to finding a date?”

You grit your teeth. “I have everything I need.”

“You had a gown shipped in?”

“Yes. And shoes. Because I thought,” you say, coating every word in venom, “that someone else was going to ask me.”

“If you’re at the ball with Rodgers,” he says the name with the slightest hint of malice, “who’s going to check on Bertha?”

You shrug, turning and starting back down the corridor. “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll have to go a day without an update.”

Newt shakes his head. “We can’t. That could ruin the credibility of our results.”

You cross your arms over your chest, making your way to a staircase. “I doubt that.”

“You need to check on her.”

“And why can’t you, Newt?”

He steps back when you turn on him, furious. “I’m going to the ball with Leta. I can’t leave her.”

“And I’m going with Michael.”

Newt – damn the boy – actually stifles a smile, like there’s something funny about your claim, like you going with Michael is somehow less important than him going with Leta. “You can’t just check on her for five minutes?”

“Newt,” you growl, “I am not leaving the ball to check on Bertha. If you want the results, do it yourself.”

His expression becomes stony, the hint of a smile vanishing. “Sorry for bothering you, I didn’t realize one single kiss would cause you to throw away a month’s worth of research.”

You could scream. He’s ruining the night, ruining the wonderful time you had with Michael, ruining everything. “And I didn’t realize one flip of Leta’s hair could turn you into such a jackass,” you hiss, “but look where we are.”

He blushes furiously. “Leta and I are different.”

“Oh why? Because you think you love her?”

The nail of Newt’s thumb lands in his mouth. “Don’t use that against me. She isn’t faking who she is.”

“Neither is Michael.” You wrap your hands around the banister, trying to squash the urge to strangle Newt. He can be so damn infuriating sometimes.

“You hardly know him.”

“And you think Leta’s honest with you? You don’t think she isn’t lying or using you or acting suspicious by forcing you to do her research for her, Newt?” He doesn’t reply, so you roll your eyes. He can love a snake all he wants. You storm up the steps, ignoring Newt’s shouts for you. “If you want the data, you collect it yourself, Newt. I’m done.”

Tears pinch the bottoms of your eyes, but they’re easy enough to chase away. You’ll both apologize tomorrow, you know, but for now you’re more than willing to remain pissed. He ruined your night, insulted your date, and implied that you would throw what you care away for a boy. He deserved his new nickname, the jackass.

Huffing, you make your way to the common room just as the final curfew bells begin their chorus.

You head to your room, changing and falling into bed, shoving thoughts of Newt out of your head, focusing only on running over the dance steps Professor Dumbledore taught and running a finger over the spot where Michael kissed you.

“You know it’s shit that he asked someone else.”

You smooth the front of your gown. “It’s not a big deal anymore.”

Marlene, your roommate, rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Not now that you got yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You protest, chewing on a nail absentmindedly as your thoughts race. What if Michael really does like you? Newt hasn’t said a thing to you today, is he still mad? How does the waltz go again?

“Quit that!” Marlene reaches up from where she’s sitting on the bed and swats your hand from your mouth. “You’re going to ruin all the work I put into that manicure.”

“Aren’t you nervous at all?” If you’re honest, your nerves have you frayed at the edges, coming apart at the seams. It’s all you can do to take deep breaths and hold yourself together. There’s a faint nausea tumbling through your stomach, and your hands shake.

“Not a bit.” Marlene fluffs the skirt of her cotton candy pink dress, grinning and twirling to send gleams of light from the beads she sewed in the skirt herself. “I look great, just like you do. Charles and Michael are going to be speechless.”

“Okay, but –“

“No, no buts. That’s enough. It’s nearly seven. Come over here so I can put your necklace on and we’ll go find our dates for the night. Hey, what do you think Charles wore? I hope it’s not maroon. I told him to stick with black, but you know how he can be.”

You tune out her rambling. There’s so much to worry about: dance steps, walking in these heels, not tripping over your dress, actually talking to Michael, waiting for Newt’s apology… Too much. “I can’t go.”

“What?”

“I can’t go. I’m not – this is too much.”

Marlene rolls her eyes, latching the clasp of your necklace around your neck and grabbing your wrist. “You’re not avoiding this. I won’t let you.”

You yank your arm from her grip, shaking your head and backing toward the bed. “No. You don’t understand. I can’t. There’s too much.”

“Too much what?”

“Pressure. I have to dance and walk and talk to Michael.”

Marlene covers a giddy smile with her hand. “Oh my goodness.”

“What?” You wait, but she just laughs. Irritated, you let an edge creep into your voice. “Merlin’s sake, Marlene, what’s so funny?”

“You actually like him. All this time I thought it was joke, but you like him.”

“I don’t like anyone.” You say, scowling.

“You like Michael. Oh my gosh, this is too cute. You two would be so cute together. You’d be like a power couple! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I didn’t see this before.”

“You didn’t see anything because there was nothing to see.”

“Nope.” She grabs your hand, and you let her pull you to your feet, her excitement rubbing off on yourself. “Just remember what you told me this morning about Michael. How nice he is, and smart, and funny, and whatever other gross lovey dovey stuff you said.”

You make a face at her. “None of it was lovey dovey.”

“Oh, honey,” she looks over her shoulder as she leads you into the common room, “it was all lovely dovey.”

“Could you keep it down? We’re around other people now.”

“You don’t want them to know about your newfound love?”

“Marlene, please.”

“Fine, fine.” She pushes her way through the crowd of excited classmates, all dressed up in some way, making final fixes to their hair or dresses or makeup, nudging each other and pointing out boys and girls, practicing waltzing, some in the corner practicing other talents. The room’s in an uproar, and it’s boiling. People bump into you on other sides. You draw your skirt up in your hands, careful not to step on and rip any other girl’s gown.

You gulp down your terror, raising a hand to the place where Michael kissed you yesterday. He’s a nice guy.

Marlene reaches the way out of the common room and filters through it with a host of other girls in their gowns, all giggling and craning their necks to search for their dates.

“Do I look all right?” You murmur to Marlene’s back.

“Honey, I don’t even need to turn around to know you’re stunning. Now quit worrying, it’ll ruin your hair.”

Biting your cheek, you try to trust her and let peace settle over your fears.

It’s worthless; the nerves are worse than ever.

You step into the hall, sighing in relief at the sudden break in heat. The crowd’s lesser out here. A few other students still hang around the entrance, talking, fixing their makeup, or lamenting the sudden loss of a date.

Marlene whirls away from you, tugged by a hand. “There you are. I was wondering if you were ever going to show up.”

“Charles! Be careful, you could’ve ripped my dress.”

Marlene’s boyfriend of two years grins and tugs her against his chest. “You don’t think that was my plan? You do like to be fashionably late, don’t you?”

She swats at his arm. “Shush and help find Michael.”

“Michael?”

Marlene just stares at you with raised eyebrows, offering you the chance to tell Charles. You sigh. She’s not going to let this go for a while. “Rodgers.”

“You’re his date?”

You nod.

“Shit, man, I’d heard he got a date last minute. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“How’d you hear?”

“Word spreads fast around here.”

So the entire school knows. Wonderful. “Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he was around here somewhere. Off by the statues, I think. Girls kept mobbing him. You know, I always assumed you’d go with that Scamander guy you’re stuck at the hip with.”

Marlene smacks him again, watching you worriedly. “Charles, learn when to stop talking, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What did I say?”

You shake your head, stepping away. “No, it’s fine, Marlene. Don’t worry about it. Thanks, Charles. Have fun at the dance.”

“I’ll see you there, honey!” Marlene calls as you head off to find Michael.

You wander further into the castle, enjoying the cool air and calming breaths the space gives you. Newt’s on your mind. There’s no doubt you’ll see him soon, dancing with Leta in his arms, smiling down at her the way you’d always thought he would smile at you. It’s hard to picture. How the hell will you manage to not fall apart seeing it in person?

You reach a hand up to run it over your face when you remember your makeup. You’re about to rub your eyes anyway when a voice sounds from behind you.

“Wow, you look… amazing.”

You spin, letting out a breath when you see Michael in front of you. He’s done his best to tame and comb down his messy brown hair – you’re actually not sure if you’ve seen it so flat before. He’s in a black tux, his tie somehow matching the color of your gown, dress shoes pointed and shined.

But what knocks the breath from your chest is the way he’s looking at you: eyes wide, lips curled into a small smile, shoulders relaxing. “I mean, I knew you would look great, but you look… I’m honestly… you’re just… stunning. Sorry.”

“I got you tongue-tied?” The words sound confident, almost shadowed in bravado, but you have to clasp your hands behind your back to hide the shaking.

“Somehow, someway, you’ve got me speechless.” He stares at you for another moment before blinking, shaking himself, and extending a hand. “I can’t believe I nearly forgot my manners: ready to go, my lady?”

He leads you down the hall and the stairways, talking all the while about how he’d debated finding you flowers for hours before finally deciding you wouldn’t have a place to put them. “I did, though, pick some. They’re back in my dorm. I can bring you them tomorrow if you’d like.”

“You didn’t have to buy me flowers.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I want to.”

You blush, squeezing his hand the slightest, though every bit of your brain is on high alert, eyes subtly scanning for Newt.

You don’t spot him before reaching the main landing, nor by the time you can hear strains of the orchestra floating past, nor before stepping into the redesigned Great Hall.

The moon’s in the ceiling, surrounded by stars blinking lazily, and a few comets streaking through the near black sky. Professors have hung stars on the walls and floating through the air are plates of food and drink. The music’s soft and sweet, the perfect accompaniment to the elegant setting. You can smell the pastries the elves must have spent hours baking, and your mouth waters in response.

Michael squeezes your hand when another girl in a lush green dress stops to speak to him, her eyes glazing over when he mentions you.

You take the moment to look around, but you have little time to find Newt among the faces of those present before Michael’s tugging you back into reality.

“So,” he stammers, cheeks adorably red as he stubs his foot against the ground, “may I have this dance?”

The fear you’d fought earlier begins burning in your chest again. “Um…”

But he gives you an easy, albeit somewhat nervous, smile. “If you step on my foot, I’ll promise not to scream like a first year. But only,” he says, holding up a finger as he laughs through his own words, “if you promise not to tell everyone when I accidentally step on yours.”

You can’t help your grin. “Fine. But what do I get if you do scream like a first-year?”

He contemplates the question, dark eyes shimmering in mischief. “You can draw a mustache on my face and I’ll leave it there for a full day.”

“Are you serious?”

“I would never lie to a lady.” He says it with a solemn voice, but the grin on his face only widens when you laugh.

“It’s a deal, then.”

He leads to the edge of the dance floor. “And what do I get if you tell someone?”

“What would you want?” You place a hand on his shoulder, leaving the other one in his grip.

His hand rests high on your waist. “A bouquet of flowers.”

You raise an eyebrow, hyper aware of his touch as you begin to sway to the rhythm. “That’s all?”

“Is that all I’m allowed to ask for?”

“It seems like very little.”

“Good, then I can add on candles, right?”

“I suppose.” Your heart’s slamming in your chest, racing from the closeness of Michael, the way his warm hand feels wrapped gently around yours, and the beauty of the song.

“And a homecooked dinner?”

“You want me to cook you a dinner?”

“Only if you tell someone if I step on your foot tonight which, with these clown shoes,” he peers down at his dress shoes, making a disgusted face before meeting your eyes again, “is a very high risk I’m taking.”

“You’re risking flowers, candles, and a homecooked dinner?”

“And one final ingredient, if that’s all right.”

“What is it? A chair?”

He laughs quietly, gaze softening. “No. You.”

“Me?” You squeak, eyes widening.

“Yeah, like… well, like a date, I guess.”

A date with Michael Rodgers, the boy you’ve known since first year, the boy that’s been nothing but a friend until recently, the boy that wants to take you out. You.

The boy that asked you to the Yule ball.

“I’d –“

A hand wraps around your shoulder, so tight you can feel the fingertips press against your bones. “May I cut in?”

You stifle a groan. “Sorry, but we were kind of busy talking.”

“It won’t be long. Just until the end of this song.”

“Newt.” You growl, praying Michael doesn’t hear.

“I won’t take more time than necessary, I promise.”

You don’t want to let go of Michael unanswered, but he steps back, forcing you to drop your arms as he heads out of reach. “I’ll get us some punch. Have fun, you two.” But his words seem strained and his eyes don’t leave Newt’s hands when they reach for you.

You face Newt, a storm brewing on your face, but he speaks before you can form a word.

“I’m not here to argue.”

“You want to apologize in the middle of the Yule ball?”

He drops his head. “I just wanted a dance with my best friend before she falls in love with another guy.”

You scowl. “I’m not in love with him.”

“You don’t see it, but I can. Marlene’s already said something about it, hasn’t she?”

“I don’t-“

“Exactly.” He smiles to himself. “I just wanted one final dance before I lose you to Rodgers’s world.”

You find your anger fading at the words. Newt thinks he’s going to lose you? That’s what this is all about? “Newt, I’m still your friend. I can have more than one close friend you know.”

“And boyfriends?”

“What?”

Newt sucks in a shaky breath, looking over your shoulder at someone before lowering his voice. “You shouldn’t go on a date with him.”

“I don’t see how who I go on a date with is any of your business.” Were it not for the dark lighting and the music weaving through the floor, you’re certain you and Newt would be the subject for all eavesdroppers.

“He’s not right for you.”

“And who is? You? Because if that were true, I don’t think I’d even be here with Michael.”

Newt’s face hardens. “I’m simply trying to help you. I don’t want you to be hurt. I know how you jump into things sometimes.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” You tighten your grip around his shoulders, praying he understands to stop talking, to just dance in silence until this song is over. He can apologize in the morning, you can go back to being friends in the morning, but for now, he needs to shut up.

He doesn’t take the hint. “You can be a bit naïve, love.”

A scream wiggles its way from your chest to the end of your voice, ready to explode if necessary. “Don’t call me love.”

“What, then? Friend?” The word’s icy, cruel coming from Newt. He says it like he’s mocking it, mocking your friendship.

“How about nothing, if that’s how you’re going to be?”

Newt’s hands ball up into fists against your sides. “You’re going to be mad at me for caring about you?”

“No, I’m mad at you for implying that Michael and I don’t have a chance together.”

He stares at you, expression unreadable. “You don’t.”

It’s all you can take from him, all you can stand to hear someone you loved say. You let go of his shoulders, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have fun with Leta. I hope she’s as good at remembering experiments as I am.”

Newt’s face pales even under the shadows in the room. “You’re going to give up on Bertha like that?”

“I’m giving up on all of them. Good riddance.” Your heart aches to think of never seeing Bertha again, but you dig the emotion a hole and toss it down, only letting anger guide you.

“You’re going to miss them.”

“Maybe, but I sure as hell won’t miss you, Newt.”

He steps back, a pained look flitting across his face, gone so quickly you wonder if it was truly there in the first place. “Then all the best. I hope Michael doesn’t break your heart too soon.”

“You’re just a jackass, Newt. That’s all you are.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but Leta appears at his side, instantly wrapping herself around his arm and whispering something in his ear. Newt’s still tense, staring at you, but he allows her to push him back a step. Leta’s hand wraps around his, leading him away, her eyes spitting venom at you even as they disappear into the crowd.

Tears waver on the edge of your eyelashes. Newt doesn’t love you, doesn’t care if you’re happy anymore. Those years of laughing, staying up late, spending lunch debating theories or working through homework mean nothing now. You stand alone on the dance floor, nearly crying, now best friendless. The calming breaths you take do nothing but inflate the anger quickly rising in your chest. It burns away the tears and your nerves. It chases away any doubts about Michael or tonight. Fuck him. If Newt thinks you’re going to have a horrible time with Michael, you’ll do just the opposite.

“Are you okay?”

You hastily wipe at your eyes, shoving a smile onto your face. “I’m fine.”

Michael peers closer as he steps toward you, both hands wrapped around cups of punch. “Are you sure? You look upset.”

“I’m sure.” You force yourself to laugh. “If I look miserable, don’t worry, it’s this music, not you.”

He watches you a moment longer before leaning back and grinning, offering you a glass. “I was worried you were crying just thinking about spending an hour and a half alone with me.”

The date, that’s right. You’d completely forgotten about his request. “As tragic as losing those ninety minutes of my life would be, I guess I could stand losing it with you.”

“Really?”

You nod, staring at the forming whirlpool as you swirl the punch. “Really. I think… I think it’d be fun.”

He runs a hand through his hair and laughs. “And here I thought I’d have to convince you more.”

You smile, staring behind him when you catch a glimpse of red hair lurking a few feet away, obviously listening. “No, no I think you’re great.”

“Great, huh? Not just pretty okay, but great?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

You grin, reaching out to grab his hand. “I’m glad we came together. I didn’t think the ball would be much fun, but, I think I was wrong.”

“If you’re up for it, Simon’s having a bit of a second ball in the Gryffindor common room after. We’ll have butterbeer, which I swear is much better than whatever this is that they’re serving us.”

Normally, you’d say no, head back to your room to gossip with Marlene or eat popcorn with Newt and sleep. Instead, you shrug your shoulders. “Sounds like it could be fun.”

“Hey, where’s Scamander? I wanted to talk to him about something.”

You glance in Newt’s direction, to where he’s leaning against the wall, eyes boring a hole into the floor. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter, really, does it? Let’s just dance.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He takes your glass from you, setting it on a tray zooming past. “May I?” He asks, offering you his elbow. You give Newt one final glance. He meets your gaze, lips pursed, eyes dark, and shakes his head.

Clenching your jaw, you glare at him before taking Michael’s arm with a smile. “Of course.”

He leads you further into the fray of couples. “Say, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“What?”

He takes your hand in his, readying to dance the end of the slow song. “I know it’s really none of my business, and I don’t mean to pry, but I can tell something happened between you and Scamander.” You open your mouth to tell him you’d rather not talk about it, that you want to just forget about it all, but he holds up a hand. “You don’t need to tell me. I get that I’m not exactly your closest friend right now, I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you do need someone.”

Your chest warms with the words. “Thanks, Michael.”

“Anytime. I really do care about you. Now, shall we dance?”

Your smile comes easily as you settle a hand on his shoulder as a waltz begins. “Let’s.”

Newt stares at you from a corner, from the outskirts of the dance floor, from beside the punch table, expression gloomy, smiles forced when Leta prods him and speaks with him. You only notice him a few times, uncomfortably shifting, when Michael notices and switches places with you, positioning his body to block you from Newt’s view.

The rest of the night passes too quickly, a blur of Michael’s smile and laughing over powder sugared pastries and song after song after song. Soon enough, you’ve forgotten about your fight with Newt, too intent on ducking behind the couch in the Gryffindor common room to avoid taking a pie to the face from Adam Oliver’s charming game. Michael’s hand hardly leaves yours, even then, and you fall asleep in your bed with a smile on your face, ready to describe the entire night to a snoring Marlene in the morning, heart only aching over Newt a fraction of what you’d expected. No, if he wants to be a jackass, he can. He just can’t expect you to stick around and deal with it.

#newt scamander #newt Scamander x reader #newt Scamander one shot #newt Scamander imagine #fbawtft #requested #holy heck this got so much longer than I expected #but I think i'm in love my oc lol #thanks to anyone that takes the time to read this whole thing :)#I hope there's enough Newt in it #have a lovely day everybody #lol I forgot to title it yikes

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