Oh dear, I must say, I’ve fallen quite in love with your way of writing! So I have to ask if you could write a fic in which the reader gets catcalled while being out with Newt and to the readers surprise he doesn’t just ignore it like she suggests but defends her or something of that kind? Have a wonderful day/evening and take care! ❤️
also! Today is my birthday and I did say that I would write a special birthday fanfic. I decided to combined these two request! If the anonymous is too terribly offended that I added this little part in, please feel free and send in a new request. But to add a little more story, it’s your birthday. Just pretend we share the same birthday, lol.
Warnings: If you die, i’m not responsible. There is so much fluff you will have a heart attack. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Newt may sound a little OOC near the end, but some people asked for a little more aggression and protectiveness. So yes, Newt would never do this in real life, but this is my story and I love fluff, so if you don’t like it don’t read it!
Today was a special day. It was the third day of December and it dawned cool and winter-like. Not only was it your birthday, but Newt had asked you out. You weren’t sure if it was a “date” or not. You couldn’t get that out of him, you were lucky the bashful man even asked you out.
To be frank, you liked Newt. He was quirky and a bit of a lone wolf. If he payed attention to you and was able to make eye contact, that probably meant you were friends. That’s just how Newt worked. To also be frank… You kind of thought he might be gay, but you didn’t mention it to him or to anyone else, that just wasn’t really acceptable to talk about in the 1920s. You secretly hoped he wasn’t, because you were so attracted to him.
You hummed a Christmas song, while curling your hair. You decided to be a little fancy, it was your birthday after all. To add a final pop of color, you went so bold as to pull out some real red lipstick. It was old and kind of hard, but you managed to tint your lips with the true red cosmetic.
After doing your makeup (the only makeup you used was your lipstick and powder), you walked over to your closet. To your eyes, you had nothing to wear. What were you going to wear? You sure as hell couldn’t go naked. You ended up choosing a soft white blouse and a dark brown skirt. Dawning on your lace up shoes, you then took a hat and placed it gently on your head. Ew. No. You wrinkled your nose and took the hat off and threw it on the bed.
The door bell rang, and you hastily pinned a red flower pin to your hair. You dashed out into the hall to the door, pausing you smoothed out your skirt. Why were you preparing yourself? It wasn’t really a date, was it?
You opened the door to see Newt standing there, in his brilliant blue coat and Hufflepuff scarf. His eyes grew a little bigger, as his eyes traveled upwards, meeting your eyes. His face flushed a dusty pink color.
“Erm…” He stuttered, fiddling with his scarf and adjusting it. “Y-you look ravishing… I mean lovely… Really lovely…”
You laughed, and said a little awkwardly, “Pulled out the ol’ lipstick…!” You weren’t sure if Newt was being honest or just lying. He was too polite to say anything rude to your face and you started to feel really self-conscious. He’d never seen you with makeup or curled hair before.
“I can see that,” Newt noted, gazing at your lips. “Are you ready?” He seemed to snap out of it, looking away and doing a small spin.
Laughing, you walked down the flight of steps and said, “Absolutely!” You really wanted to take off the makeup. What if Newt hated the lipstick and wanted you to look natural? That would just be like Newt, to be all about the natural look. You felt awkward and twice as self-conscious. You wish you hadn’t decided to go so bold with your lips and heels! What were you trying to look like? A tramp?!
You were silent as you thought about how horrible you must look to Newt. You tried to remind yourself that you weren’t putting it all on to impress Newt, You were doing it to treat yourself and look nice!
Newt was quiet too. He wasn’t even looking at you. He had his hands in his pockets, as he kicked stones along the way. He wasn’t mentioning anything about his beasties or creatures at all.
Right as you two were turning the corner, a handsome man dressed smartly let out a high wolf whistle. He didn’t say anything, just watched you hungrily, running his eyes all over you.
You walked closer to Newt and stared in discomfort straight ahead of you. What a horrible birthday. Newt thought you were ugly as sin, like a clown, and other men thought you were wanting to get foxy around them.
The two of you kept walking, again in silence. Another man, this time even handsomer, with dark brown eyes and a strong jawline, called out, “Wish that lipstick could smear all over my lips! I could use a gal like you!”
You whimpered and were now basically shadowing ever move Newt made. Newt noticed your discomfort and said in a low voice, “Ignore him. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” What you didn’t know was that Newt was burning up with anger. He wanted to sock the man. He wanted nothing more than to shove his wand up that creep’s nose and blow his head off.
Once the two of you had walked another half mile or so, a man with dirty blonde hair said to you, “You must be quite a desperately naughty woman if you’re hanging out with this kind of boy.”
That was the last straw for Newt. “Cockroach!” Newt growled, turning to the man.
“Newt. Let it go, please,” you said, you were tired of this all and you just wanted to go.
To your surprise, Newt turned to you and said, “No. I’m tired of this all. I’m sick of having men making sick comments about you!” Something inside Newt had really changed. He was aggressive sounding, most certainly not passive aggressive like he normally was if he was irritated at someone.
“Yeah? And what are you doing to do?! She doesn’t belong to you! I say let the girl play around with me!” The man said, laughing loudly.
“She’s not yours,” Newt said dangerously low. He wasn’t walking up to the man, just glaring at him, his cinnamon color hair shading his face giving him a shadowy look. “She’s… She’s my girlfriend.”
You stared stupidly at Newt, not understanding anything. You didn’t have time to react, because at that instant, Newt turned to you and hooked his arm around your neck pulling you into a rough kiss.
You were shocked at how aggressively hungry his kiss was, as he pulled you deeper into the kiss. You weren’t going to lie, he was a good kisser. Your surprise at the kiss, let Newt slip his tongue into your mouth, French kissing you, your lipstick spearing everywhere. Your hands shot up to his hair as you started to melt. A low low groan came from inside Newt. Hastily, Newt cut off the beast like noise and pulled away, gasping for fresh air.
You too gasped, completely shocked and feeling dazed. What had happened. Where did that growl come from? Was the sweet Newt capable of producing such a noise?
You looked around but the cat caller seemed to have left in discourage. “Just as I suspected,” murmured Newt softly, rubbing away at the lipstick from his mouth. “Public display of affection makes people uncomfortable.” He explained in his usual tone, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. But he looked a little embarrassed. Was it because of the kiss or because of that noise that unexpectedly came from within him?
“Wait… Was that all staged? P-planed?” You whispered, still sucking in air like a weirdo. You were confused and your head was spinning.
“More or less. I was pretending to be possessive and aggressive. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, and I hope you don’t despise me. I’m sorry I acted like such a beast, please forgive me,” Newt chuckled hollowly. “That was the only way I could get rid of him without physical contact.”
“Smart,” you huffed, still thinking hard at what just happened. Newt hesitated, but then stuck his thumb out to your face and cleaned up the smudging he had left. His face was slightly pink, as he cleaned up around your lips.
“Let’s have some lunch,” he said gently. he looked like himself, giving you a soft and almost angelic look.
As you two continue to walk, and you felt super weird, you thought about it. That groan could not have been on purpose. Nor could that kiss have been. Sure yeah, he planned to kiss you, but the way he kissed you… No matter how much he had “acted” that kiss was not fake. The more you thought, the more you remembered the way Newt looked at you and your lips earlier today.
To Newt’s surprise you took his hand in yours. “Hullo?” He questioned, looking down at the clasped hands.
“You weren’t pretending that kiss, were you?” You stated.
“That kiss. You couldn’t have just acted that kiss. It was way too genuine. Along with that groan. That’s why you quickly stopped and pulled away, right? Cuz you weren’t expecting that noise to come out yourself,” you explained quietly to Newt. You were proud of that deduction.
“You’re right…” Newt mumbled embarrassed. “I’m sorry I behaved like that. I’m no better than them.”
You wanted to say don’t worry, you’re kissing made up for it, or something lame like that, but you didn’t. “No. You were protecting me.” You really wanted to add besides you’re a great kisser.
“Want to know something, Y/N? You must have enjoyed the kiss though. Your hands shot up involuntarily to my hair,” Newt said shyly, not looking at you.
You chuckled to yourself. This wasn’t such a bad birthday after all. “Touché.”
Thanks for reading! For those asking for a jealous reader, I have one in the making. Don’t worry.
Lastly, please do not post my writing on fanfiction, deviantart, Wattpad or any other medias without asking me first, thank you :)
I live in a very homophobic country, where sexual phantasms are very limited. People cannot think of two boys kissing.
Q: You are thus a frustrated heterosexual?
Sometimes I think I’m gay…I have doubts. I’m still a virgin. Even with girls.
Peter Doherty, 20 Ans magazine, date unknown (circa 2002-2003)
notes | Newt and Tina dance at Queenie & Jacob’s wedding. It’s a quiet moment and the continued start of something that began on the docks. Title from As Long as There’s Christmas, which is what I listened to as I wrote this (wrong theme perhaps, but right feel).
title | hope [is the greatest]
two left feet and a shy smile, flushed cheeks and an averted gaze but he
scarcely stumbles when he asks her to dance and his fingers are warm and steady
where they tangle in hers when she accepts. “It was a beautiful
ceremony,” Newt remarks, clearly practiced, once they’re moving mostly
along with the music a few moments later.
Tina, it’s impossible to be anything but fond of Newt Scamander in nearly any
given situation, but here now, pressed just a little too close together on the
dance floor at her sister’s wedding, it is especially challenging. He’s all
done up in a nice suit, a scrap of cobalt tucked into his pocket to match the
startling color of his tie, both of which set off attentive cast of his gaze as
it just barely avoids catching hers, as if worried he’s being too forward. Oh
Newt, she cannot help but think, the strings of her heart tangling into tighter
and tighter knots with every moment she spends with him.
Goldstein never once fancied herself a romantic. It’s not an adjective any of
her housemates would have pinned upon her back in her school days, nor is a
term one her coworkers would have leveled at her. Detail oriented, practical,
stubborn to a fault, all these would be doubtlessly accurate but certainly not
romantic. Passionate maybe, if one was specific to mention the focus of that
passion. Yet for all that the word has never particularly been hers, she can’t
help the way the corners of her mouth seem unable to settle in his presence nor
the way her pulse always races, eager, each time Grayson comes back with
another letter addressed to her in Newt’s particularly scrawl.
much,” she agrees easily, smiling as she glances across Newt’s shoulder to
where her sister is dancing with her husband, radiant as she’s ever been,
looking like the happiest witch in the world. It’s been a long road, to get
Queenie and Jacob here, but she’s happy and Tina is happy for her. “It was
good of you to come all the way from England for it.”
this, Newt’s gaze manages to find hers, even holds it for a long and pregnant
pause but it skitters away, the warmth there fleeing to the corners of his smile
instead. “I would not have missed it for all the dragons in Europe,”
he assures, earnest in a way that leaves Tina laughing and leaning forward, to
bury the sound against his collar. Newt startles, just a second of uncertainty
as she presses in closer, before he too joins in an easy chuckle. And then he
adds, rather a bit quieter, less brave but no less honest, “Though if I
may confess, my motivations may have had a bit less to do with the bride than
with her sister.”
the closest he’s ever come to any sort of admission, in all their many letters
or his visit in the fall to deliver his book, and Tina knows by the drop in his
tone, the way he cushions the words with the full weight of expected rejection,
that it takes a great deal of effort for even this much. She feels stricken all
over again, heart wild in her chest, an echo of another day standing just this
close at the docks, Newt’s fingertips just scarcely grazing her cheek. She
hadn’t had the words then, truthfully doesn’t now, but she breathes his name
like a question and an admission and a prayer and his answering smile says more
than his mouth will likely ever manage, but it’s certainly enough for the
hand against the small of her back presses a little more firmly, thumb rubbing
absentminded circles across the fabric of her dress and they twist around just
a note behind the beat, unaware or unconcerned as the bride and groom watching
with knowing smiles of their own.
two left feet and a shy smile, flushed cheeks and an averted gaze but he guides
them with a tentative tenderness that she easily follows.
Snowbarry tomorrow, I promise! The fic I started was a bit longer in theme then I had time to post today, but I have not forgotten my promise to get back to snowbarry after NaNoWriMo
I might post something before that one, because now I’m in a dancing fic mood - and y'all know how I love those :)
Okay here’s the deal with the goodreads stuff. To my surprise, goodreads does allow ‘book-length fanfiction which is complete (no WIPs, please), and self-published’ but they will remove fanfiction at the author’s request. (source)
So if you find your stuff and are not happy about it, contact them, and hopefully they’ll remove it.
Why are good reference pics of vulcan architecture so hard to find that are actually useful??? I want to draw a bit of the outside of spocks home but i cant find anything good beyond like big drawings of citys and i feel like either in the new movies or yesteryear we would have seen a bit of his home i just want to draw spock and amanda lighting shabbos candles at a window
Hello :) I just wanted to tell you, you're one of the simmers I really look up to. Furthermore, I wanted to tell you I really love the way you decorate with furniture. Where do you find all that cool stuff? Like today, you posted a picture of some really cool pillows and bed sheets, and the other day, you posted a picture of a computer room with many computer screens and geek toys. Will you please tell me wcif those pillows/bedsheets, and the things in the computer room, please? 💙
Hello and thank you!! Normally I don’t make this kind of wcif but well.. why not :)
I was telling my mum that I think the Quagmire triplets are the most tragic characters in ASoUE and they have a sapphire fortune. In Hindu astrology there's a meaning & purpose attached to basically every stone and it's not necessarily something I believe in, but I find this stuff really fascinating. It turns out blue sapphires are notorious for bringing reallyy good luck if they agree with a person's energy and reallyyy bad luck if they don't. Idk just thought it was an interesting coincidence.
I agree the triplets have a “tragic” quality (in the original sense of the word). The phrase “being in a quagmire” is commonly used to express an inextricable situation, so they really have misfortune wished upon them. I don’t know think Daniel Handler is sufficiently acknowledged with Hindu mythology to cram in this piece of particular symbolism, but it’s food for thought. I like the idea that the Quagmire fortune is cursed; maybe they’re blood sapphires? It would tie in with the running symbolism of people in the series doing things that are considered unlucky in the navy (such as renaming a boat).
I finally managed to follow everyone (i think) with this poor excuse of wifi i have going for me right now, so hello!! It’s been forever since i’ve been in a closed directory so i hope this is still normal introduction behaviour??? Anyway. I’m used to roleplaying angsty muses and mostly Slytherin muses so let’s see how roleplaying an actual ball of sunshine goes :’) AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE WELCOMES I’LL GET TO THEM SOON. I should have a plotting page open someday but for now, find some basic stuff abt this child under the cut (and if you have a plotting page with slots that need to be filled please let me know!)
me and my manager got two girls banned from our store location and the rest of our mall for tryin to shoplift and finding stuff from other stores in their bag and damaging clothes from trying to take sensors off wyd