argh cute

This Isn’t Destiny

so there’s that ask i did where i made up a cute lil soulmates au and then a headcanon and i kind of combined them so here you go.

Summary: The name “Tina” is inscribed on Newt’s wrist. Supposedly, whatever Tina touches will be given color to Newt. The same goes for all wizards and witches – it’s their soulmate’s name. Who they are destined to be with. Newt, however, has never been a believer in fate or destiny. He’s convinced that the name will bear no meaning to him whatsoever. After all, he’s sixteen and he’s met several Tinas, none of them at all remarkable. However, when Leta leaves him for holiday break to go with her family on a trip to New York, he is left to hang around his sort-of friend in Hufflepuff and said sort-of friend’s girlfriend – both of whom have their names on each other’s wrists. This was not how Newt Scamander had been hoping to spend his Christmas.

“Come on, Newt, cheer up!” teased Atlanta, flicking some snow at him. Newt merely burrowed his face deeper into his scarf, shooting her a look. She pouted and turned to Conrad. “Make him cheer up, babe, he’s bringing the whole town down!”

The three were walking through Hogsmeade together. Newt had hoped to be curled up with Leta in the library right now, but she obviously had no control over her family’s plans. Conrad was the second-closest thing to a friend he had at school, and unfortunately he and Atlanta were a package deal.

“It’s almost Christmas, mate, it’s time to wipe that frown off your face!” Conrad attempted to lighten the mood. “Come on, name one thing you’d rather be doing.”

I can list ten, easy, Newt thought bitterly, but kept his words to himself. He forced a smile and said through gritted teeth, “True that, Con. Where next?”

“Ooooh, Madam Puddifoot’s!” Atlanta squealed, and that’s how Newt found himself crammed into a table by himself at the sappiest cafe he had ever had the misfortune to step into, across from his two half-friends that were eagerly glued by the lips.

He noticed Madam Puddifoot herself shooting him a few pitying glances, but he could hardly stand to look at anyone. He pulled his scarf up to his eyes, despite it being steamy-hot in the cafe, and tried to ignore the slurping coming from the adjacent seats.

He found himself examining his wrist in spite of himself. What Professor Blackburn had said had eerily clung to him like morning dew on the hems of his robes, something he had promised he would never allow to happen in Divination.

“You, boy,” he had called to Newt after class, before Newt could get out the door. Uncomfortable, Newt had turned, unwilling to hear what his professor was about to say.

“Today – why did you pick the wrong cup? I specifically said the purple ones, not the red ones.”

Newt felt himself go red around the collar. He strongly disliked this topic, having brushed it off as a rare case of wizarding color-blindness. People had told him that it was because he had yet to come in contact with anything his “soulmate” had, but he refused to believe that was true.

“I- I’m sorry, sir,” Newt stammered, jamming his hands into his pockets. “I – forgot, I suppose….”

Professor Blackburn studied him. The old man would not have seemed intimidating if you had just seen him walking down the street, but Newt had witnessed firsthand his passionate lectures on the art of divination, and how vehemently he had spoke of the horrors the “eye” could see.

“I think I know your problem, lad,” Professor Blackburn murmured. “Several other students suffer the same, though they have the wits to ask their fortunate friends for assistance. It is the fact that you are a non-believer that has singled you out.”

Lucky me, Newt thought, but kept his thoughts to himself, saying, “Yes, sir.”

“Let me see your wrist.”

Newt considered refusing and simply leaving the classroom, but then he found himself extending his arm to the decrepit man and pushing his sleeve up, almost against his will. Professor Blackburn took his forearm in his almost translucent hands and studied the name there. “Tina.”

“There is a Tina in this very class,” Professor Blackburn noted. “And yet you see… nothing? Just–”

“Black and white,” Newt said. It came out more bitter than he had first intended.

“Interesting,” mused Professor Blackburn, releasing Newt’s arm. “I can be of little help here, Mister Scamander. I do say this, however: you dream of being a magizoologist, correct? I hate to inform you, but if you are to continue to ignore truth in return for your own silly desires, there is not much fruit to come from your endeavors. Perhaps it is time to let your silly boyhood crush go, and learn to accept reality. You are dismissed.”

Newt’s mouth fell open as Professor Blackburn turned and left him, disappearing into his office. He stared once again at the name on his wrist and scowled. Professor Blackburn was wrong, he had to be. It just didn’t make sense.

“Can I get you anything, sugar?”

Newt was jolted back to freezing reality. That was the last day of classes before the holidays had begun, and now he would be returning to lessons the following day. Madam Puddifoot was standing in front of him, and Atlanta and Conrad were still intertwined at the table beside him.

“N- no, thank you,” murmured Newt, getting to his feet. “I was just heading out, anyway. Bye.”

Madam Puddifoot waved, and Newt walked out into the cold. Snow had begun to fall again, and not many students were still wandering the streets. He decided to head back to the castle, despite the earliness, and whittle away the remainder of the day in the Hufflepuff common room.

He was just entering the castle from the icy steps when a voice called from down the hall, “Newt!”

He looked and couldn’t help but grin hugely. Leta Lestrange herself was running towards him, her dark skin and hair looking uniquely beautiful as it always did.

Something threw him off, however. Leta looked – different. Her entire right side was… was… colored!

Newt held in a gasp so as not to alarm Leta. But sure enough, there were splotches of color on her as though she had been bumped into. She held a briefcase, and there were handprints on the case, as though someone and grabbed it so as to gently push it out of the way.

“Is everything alright?” Leta asked. “You look odd – I mean, more than usual.”

“Y- yes, I’m fine,” gasped Newt, his mind subconsciously flicking to the name on his wrist. Tina… is it possible… could it be real? Was Tina in New York – his Tina?

He shrugged these thoughts to the side. “Come on,” he told his best friend. “Let’s go to the library.”

When Newt entered New York, his mind could hardly believe what he was seeing. Colors – real colors, just like the ones that were on Leta and some of her belongings! He hadn’t seen colors in years.

Yet here they were. There were footprints all over the place, shapes on walls, even people showed signs of being nudged or bumped into, like Leta had. One man’s front was even completely colored, as though he had hugged her.

He had never seen someone completely colored before. That’s what drew him to the crowd outside the bank – a girl. She was wearing a grey coat, so it took him a moment to realize what was odd. It was a different kind of grey. It was vibrant and alive.

When she turned, he realized he could see her eye color. She had a bright splash of yellow mustard on her upper lip. Newt remembered the name on his wrist, and wondered if she saw what he was seeing. It was her. It had to be.

Professor Blackburn had been right.

Merry Christmas @Nightwonder7 ! I was your Secret Santa >8) !
Sorry I’m at family’s house I will get you a better scan later I swear!
Thank you again for your picture , you put a lot of love and effort into it , I really love it! ( honestly you’re great with backgrounds , that is something I’m still learning to do) but I’m sending you good vibes and love! Happy holidays !

The Awful and the Adorable // A.I

Originally posted by lashton-giggles

credit to the original owner of gif

Requested: no

Pairing: Ashton x Reader

Description: This date is bad. Fortunately, the waiter is cute.

“Argh, I’m guessing you’re gonna pay for you own then?” Your date asked you because you asked for a side dish. He with his head in the menu, avoiding to look up. Your eyes widen as you sighed, regretting this date once again. Ten minutes in and your date starts rambling and praising everything bad in this world.

You hated blind dates, so the easiest way to not go on them, was to avoid them. But unfortunately, your mum set you up on this one. Which was a terrible idea. This man was rude, racist and just straight up awful. The waiter coughed and you looked up with sorrow in your eyes. The waiter was attractive with his curls hanging down his forehead and the glasses fitting him perfectly. He smiled, so the dimples on his face appeared, making your heart flutter before your date started speaking, ruining the moment completely.

“I’ll like two muffins and a black coffee, then,” he mumbled and handed the menu to the attractive waiter. Before the waiter walked away again with the menus under his strong arms, you saw the little tag with the name “Ashton” on it.

The rest of the date, you could actually not stop having Ashton in the back of your mind. When your date started rambling again about whatever, you had blocked him out. Fortunately, you could stare at the waiter Ashton without your date noticing. Ashton walked around the tables his shirt hanging loosely around him. When he brought your food, you tried to keep calm and maybe make a good impression. However, when you couldn’t even talk when he was near you. You sighed when your date again started arguing with himself about the worst things in life.

Minutes passed. A half hour passed. A whole fucking hour passed and your date was still rambling. You sighed before choosing what you should do next. You suddenly raised yourself from your wooden chair and smiled at your date, who instantly stopped talking as soon as he saw you standing up.

“What are you doing?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows, pissed that you had interrupted his little speech.

“This is not going to work out.” You responded with a smile, as his face grew more confused. “I’m gonna pay the bill and you’re gonna get the hell out of here, okay? You’re probably surprised that I can talk, huh?”

Your date was surprised over your sudden attitude. He got up from his chair, pushing it back so it fell to the ground. Some of the costumers  turned their head towards the scene. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ashton behind the desk, observing every move you made.

“Okay.” Your date answered with the click of his tongue. “You’re missing out on a lot, girl.”

“Get the fuck out before I punch you in the face,” you said with a serious expression, as he smiled on his way out. A headache was slowly kicking in as you sighed as soon as the bell above the door rang, showing you that he was far away now. What a jerk.

You turned around on your heel and marched towards the desk. Ashton was standing behind it with a smirk as he watched you come with a tiny smile. You stood right in front of him as he raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something.

“You don’t have alcohol, do you?” you exclaimed as Ashton chuckled slightly, but shook his head.

“No, we don’t. Awful date, huh?”

“Worst. Human. Alive.” You mumbled with a tired facial, but you managed to get a smile spread across your face, still trying to impress the cute waiter. Ashton nodded understanding, already finding your bill.

“So, you have to pay for all of it?” he questioned, managing the bill before handing it over. As you dealt with the bill and the tips, Ashton was looking at you, writing down numbers and letters.

“Yes, and I’m happy to if it means I get that idiot out of my face,” you murmured as you handed him the bill. Ashton nodded again before saying something surprising.

“Could I make that…” Ashton pointed to your empty table, referring to your date, “better by asking you out? Someday? Maybe?”

He smiled as you bit your lip, pretending to think about it.

“Yes, of course,” you said, your breathing becoming quicker as he grinned. Your stomach was twisting in every possible way as Ashton’s beautiful dimples spread across his face again.

“Oh, and just so you know,” Ashton leant across the desk, making your heart shutter, “I can do it way better than he can.”

A/N: we all needed a little Ashton fluff this night, let’s be honest. Halloween themed imagines are on their way, so look forward to that more than ever! Hope you enjoyed :)


-Let me hear your thoughts-

My Two Favorite Blonde Cartoon Heros

Has a best bro that would do anything for him

Have Daddy issues with no Mum in sight

Crush on a girl that ‘is out of their league’ (*cough* not *cough*)

*My Lady*

Help from an awesome black-haired chick

Silly and can’t sit still

Too huggy for their own good

Has a complicated thing going on with the black-haired chick

(Also a lady killer)

Adored by a girl that is really uptight


Heroic af

Always fist pumping with the bestie sidekick


Beautiful blonde hair

And did I mention…




(My little babies T_T)

kuranoo  asked:

Argh haha so cute 😱 Louis. We are also losing our minds about the two of you but in the best fu****g possible way you can't even imagine 😘😘😘 So we are sitting in the same boat sort of xD Great work ghostie ^~^ I don't know how you do it but you get those fluffy clouds of feelings so accurate and straight to the point in my heart, it's a miracle I didn't die up to now 😂😘

Aww LOL thank you, kuranoo! :D<3 I’m glad you liked it!! This update made me really happy to draw, so I am glad that you can feel the fluffy clouds that I felt while drawing it PFF