i don't know where her thought bubbles are right now though

anonymous asked:

Oh jeez requests are open!!!! Ily mum u r da best mum!!! Could I request rfa reacting to an mc who's a klutz plz? Like constantly tripping/falling/walking into things/falls off chairs etc etc (lolol TOTALLY not a self insert pshhhfff idk what you're talking about) (u don't have to do this if u don't wanna!!!)

i am the most klutzy idiot so lets dive right in


  • even though you trip over something like 5 times an hour, he still flips his shit every time
  • he’d grab your arm and get super concerned
  • “MC!!! are you okay???”
  • “uh, yea, i’m fine! just gotta brush it off haha”
  • his hands hover over you for a second before going back to walking normally
  • “alright…are you sure?”
  • “yes, yes, im sure-”
  • this is when you trip for a second time curse this uneven sidewalk
  • and Yoosung does the same ridiculously protective thing where he puts his hands out to catch you, even though you know full well how to stop yourself from falling down after years of being clumsy
  • he really wishes he could wrap you up in bubble wrap
  • and Yoosung is pretty clumsy himself
  • sometimes while he’s cooking his spoon will just fall on the ground and he’s just kind of like “well there goes that”
  • you love to cook together but theres also a very high chance that most of the food will end up on the ground
  • my clumsy OTP


  • your clumsiness is a big source of stress for him
  • every time you  fall off of a chair, or almost fall flat on your face in public he has a tiny heart attack
  • once you two were on a jog in the park and you fell and scabbed your knee and Zen really almost took you to the hospital
  • it takes him awhile to learn that clumsy people are actually tough as shit, yknow from years of being beat up by the ground
  • “Zen, i swear im alright”
  • “are you sure? do you need me to carry you?”
  • “no”
  • sometimes Zen will ask you to help him practice a dance number with him
  • big mistake 
  • you have two left feel and he daces with the grace of a swan
  • its a terrible idea, but Zen loves dancing with you nonetheless
  • he thinks its kind of cute, and since you’re dancing together he can easily grab you if he sees you falling
  • this way u can fall all over the place without it stressing him out too much


  • she essentially becomes the most prepared person on the planet
  • she starts carrying around a full-blown first aid kit in her purse
  • she’s got band aids of all shapes and sizes, medical tape, gauze, alcohol rubs
  • instead of worrying about catching you as youre falling, she just worries about patching you up afterwards
  • at first she tried to stop it while it was happening
  • but Jaehee quickly learned that you’re a lost cause and there is no way humanly possible to stop you from falling over
  • also, Jaehee doesnt let you bring coffee to customers anymore
  • lets just say you’ve broken multiple mugs and pissed of one or two costumers
  • so you make the coffee and she carries it out
  • she knows from experience that usually your klutzy episodes wont end in a serious injury, so she just lets you live your life and keeps band aids on hand


  • you’ll never forget the first time you were eating dinner with Jumin and you slipped out of your chair
  • he was at your side so fast, holding your hands
  • you were laughing at yourself, and when you looked up and saw how concerned he looked, you laughed even harder
  • “are you alright? how are you feeling? do i need to call an ambulance?”
  • you were laughing so hard you couldnt even answer him, but for some reason he was still convinced that you were seriously hurt
  • he takes out his phone with one hand while still holding yours with the other, and you started pulling on him to try and stop him
  • “im…fine…”
  • “theres no way you’re fine. it sounded like something broke”
  • everything that comes out of his mouth makes you laugh even harder
  • you wipe some tears away from your face and pull Jumin to the ground
  • “this happens all the time, i promise im alright”
  • ever since then Jumin still whips his phone out until you tell him you’re okay
  • now he’s used to it, but he cant help but ask how youre feeling every time something happens
  • he just has to


  • the first time something happened he couldnt stop laughing
  • the second time something happened he couldnt stop laughing
  • it gets him every time
  • “hey, why dont you sit on the floor during lunch today? it will be much safer for you”
  • “woah, watch out for those poles! they move pretty fast”
  • “what happened there? the ground whispered to you and you had to get closer to hear it?!”
  • the one time he trips over something you go HAM on his ass
  • you dont let him live it down for the rest of his life
  • one time he actually wrapped you in bubble wrap
  • like you were sitting at the computer and he sneak attacked you and essentially tied you to the chair with a wide layer of bubble wrap
  • he thought it was a good idea but since you couldnt use your arms he had to wait on you hand and foot
  • it was a terrible day for him but a great day for you
  • “i swear from now of im just gonna let you fall over…”
  • “thats all i ask”

thanks for reading!!!!!!!!! pls show me sum love if u liked it :3

Coffee Cups (SHAWN MENDES)

word count: 1,021

1/? (maybe)



The coffee shop on the corner of 40th and Lexington was a quiet scene compared to the world just beyond the window pane. I sipped my favorite drink on a chilly autumn day, watching the commotion of the streets stir and jump like the buzzing noise of a cluster of bees.  

A new journal sat on the table in front of me, opened and awaiting a pen to greet its fresh pages. Despite excitedly stepping out the door with the intention to sketch in the gift from my ex-boyfriend (he liked me precise and delicate, I was ready to draw hard and messy), I no longer had the urge to tear up the pages one by one or throw the book in a fire. Instead, I set down the coffee cup, accepted the cool pen in my warm hands, and drew peacefully. The curves and bends of it all felt so natural to me, like waves curling back and forth.  
After months of being restricted to fit the mold of the perfect mistress for my toxic ex-lover, I could press on without worry of disappointing him. Maybe it was the realization that I could do better, that I deserved better, but I felt at ease.

This was New York, after all, and there were thousands of people coming and going all the time, most often without realization of the two. If a greedy, self-invested man like my ex could find someone as wholly devoted to love as myself, I could surely do the same.  

I smiled in a newfound self-righteousness, checking over my work. A fire, though made out of black ink, glowing and circling like a raging whirlpool. I closed the cover of the journal and shoved it in my purse, stepping out the door of the coffee shop and into the new world that normally would consume me, but today, I devoured it.



She was beautiful. This girl, sitting in the booth across from me. Her eyes were locked outside the window, observing what exactly I could not determine. The streets outside seem to loud for her, or quite possibly, she was too loud for them.

As a photographer, my whole job is determined on finding beauty in even the ugliest of things, but with this girl it is far too easy. She’s a collection of all kinds of pretty, almost unreal. I watch her rest her head on her hand, peering out the window at the bustle of the city. It’s hard not to look at her. Grabbing my camera out of my leather bag, I snap a picture without her knowing. I stare at the photo, as if trying to memorize each line of her face and curve of her body. Everything about her consumes me.

Again I look up at this girl, lost in her beauty. She’s now drawing in her book and there’s a smile on her face that reveals a side to her I would like to get to know better; fearless, impure of heart. It tempts me nearer and I want to reach out to her. However before I do, I press down on the camera one more time to catch the moment in a photo. She looks like she’s concentrating very hard, using every ounce in her to let go of the idea bubbling in her head. I bet her work is stellar.

Just as I can’t take it any longer and get up out of my seat, she’s gone. I run out the door, my boots clanking on the concrete, but I can’t see her face. No—I see it everywhere. Every passerby has her eyes and nose and lips that curl into a menacing grin that holds something I want to see alone with her. All I remember is that smile on her face. I want to know her favorite songs and what was going on in that head of hers to make her smile like that.

Then it hits me, I don’t even know her name. My heart sinks in my chest and I want to run to her, but where is she? That perfect girl, someone I’d been wholly devoted to finding since I moved to New York, was right in front of me and I missed my chance.



Where am I headed? No idea. The street signs pass by me one by one and I feel incredible. There’s blood and embers pulsing in my veins, each step I take leaves a footprint of lava in the molten concrete.  Throwing my empty coffee cup into a trash can, I realize how free I am in this city that is so very alive.

What I seek in a love is out there, right now.  Someone I deserve and equally deserves me is alive and their heart is beating in a rhythm, maybe as rapid as mine is in this moment.  I will find him.



I will find her.  I must find her.  I need to know her name at least.

Running my hands through my hair, I guess as to which way she went, hoping my luck hasn’t run out quite yet.  I imagine a lot of it was used just to witness her.

My heart is beating in my chest so fast my feet can’t keep up with it.  I see her face in everyone but I’m being deceived by my own hopeless desire.



I stop.  Turn around.

This rampage of burning energy in my conscious is dying out, and I notice how ridiculous I sound in my own thoughts.  Questioning what I’m doing in my tracks, I feel this city begin to consume me.  My fire is being extinguished in my chest and I think my feet are stuck in the molten concrete.



There she is, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, glancing around as if searching for someone.  Every inch of my body is shaking.  I reach out to touch her.



A touch on my shoulder stirs my insides, and I glance up at the man’s brown eyes.  The spark ignites again.

Rose was right

Right to not use the Breaking Point, right to bubble Bismuth and right to not tell the others about it. Even though it sucked.

It’s clear from her general demeanor and Garnet and Pearl’s reaction that Bismuth was a very popular Crystal Gem. A strong personality that was a huge part of defining the entire Crystal Gem movement. She liked the Crystal army, and it seemed to like her.

When two charismatic leaders inside of a movement have a philosophical conflict that cuts to the core of the movement itself, the usual outcome is a split in the membership. It’s almost certain that, exposed to Bismuth’s idea about shattering Homeworld Gems, some of the Crystal Gems would have agreed with her rather than wanting to stick to the relatively “non-violent” methods Rose had been using, and would want to take up her methods. This would have fractured the Cystal Gems into two weaker factions, giving Homeworld an opening to crush them both.

By not telling the rest of the Crystal Gems about why Bismuth was poofed and bubbled, Rose prevented that fracture and kept the movement whole, eventually allowing them to fight Homeworld to a standstill. Even though that really, really sucked for Bismuth.

Now, why was it a good idea to avoid the use of the Breaking Point? Apart from the obvious moral implications, the Breaking Point represented an escalation in violence on the part of the Cystal Gems could have caused Homeworld to obliterate the planet. Homeworld wound up using a nuclear option on Earth, but ultimately left it intact. While individual Diamonds may have had differing opinions on what should be done with the planet (Yellow Diamond wants it destroyed now, but clearly they didn’t all believe in that tactic at the time or it would be destroyed already), they were able to agree on simply “nuking” the world by making it uninhabitable for Gems (or so they thought) by corrupting all the Gems on it.

And saving the Earth and the organic life on it was one of Rose’s major motivations. It would seem that ultimately, the Diamonds found the Gem War too costly and withdrew, but if the Crystal Gems had managed to shatter many important Gems and posed a serious threat to the lives of Gems on Homeworld, vengeance and obliteration might have looked like a better option even if it was more costly.

So, Rose made a tactical decision that was painful, but ultimately saved the Crystal Gems. But I don’t think she intended for her decision to remain in the dark forever. I think that her choice to leave Bismuth in Lion was also tactical.

I think that the items left in Lion’s mane are parts of Rose’s life that she thought were important, or left unfinished. The presence of her video to Steven strongly suggests that she meant for him to find this place, and I think she meant for him to find Bismuth and discover what happened between her and Rose.

Rose could have hidden Bismuth some place where she would never be found, but she left that bubble there for Steven. I think she hoped that, with the war over and with Rose gone, Bismuth would be able to have a peaceful life, without being in a position where she would feel the need to shatter other Gems, or that Steven would be able to change her mind.

Either way, I think Rose felt guilty for what she felt she had to do to Bismuth to keep the Crystal Gems and the Earth safe. I hope that one day, under happier circumstances, we’ll see Bismuth again.

Edit for clarity: I don’t think Rose is perfect, and the ramifications of her choices don’t go away even if I believe it was the best choice she could have made in this situation. Even if I am right, untold Crystal Gems were shattered and corrupted in the aftermath of her choices. Clearly Homeworld and the Diamonds share that responsibility, but we don’t know how Bismuth’s theory of war would have played out, if shattering the Diamonds would have been enough to change Gem society, or what costs that tactic would have had. I’ve offered my opinion, but it’s just my opinion. Either way, I don’t think Bismuth is evil or bad. I think she saw what she felt was the best solution to a problem and believed in that the benefits would outweigh the costs.

anonymous asked:

Romeo and Juliet AU with Akashi please, don't worry about not doing it as exactly as the original one, I won't ask for that, only the general story line. About their family, can you put in some canon extras (GOM, or other minor charas that are not frequently requested here), and for the ending, rather than both Akashi and reader dying, can you make them run away together instead? Thanks and hopefully this is okay. ^^

Long overdue, I’m so sorry if this doesn’t turn out satisfying since I took a really different, more lighthearted route with slight comedy (and a vague ending, sorry anon)! 

This is a modern day Romeo and Juliet AU, where Reader and Akashi are both adults in a family of rich people. The companies that their parents own are rivals. I hope everybody enjoys it!

Female!Reader ahead

Originally posted by chicandproper

Business parties are an absolute bore, as you’d rather stay home and spend time doing your hobbies instead of faking interest for hours on end—until six months ago, when you started attending these events without a single peep of complaint or any specific signs of enthusiasm. Your parents didn’t question why the sudden change, perhaps due to the fear of having you retract back into your shell again.

Family appearance is important to them, which is why attending these parties are absolutely necessary: to show every important people that you are a happy family that get along together very well, all smiles and warm words, but it’s all for show. Your parents aren’t that bad, but regrettably a lot of the things that they do or expect you to do are to impress and maintain their social status.

“Being rich isn’t easy,” you start, sipping your drink as Momoi observes from across your seat, “everybody’s nice to you just to get on your good side or to use you to their advantage.” You pause, only to send a skeptic look at your pink-haired friend while she innocently drinks her latte from a straw. “You’re not doing that, are you?”

She laughs hard. You’re clearly joking, because you’re smiling at your own joke—Momoi’s family has been working in your family’s company for four generations, and relations are still tight today. She calms herself down after a mere few seconds of laughter because she’s got something in mind that she’s been dying to ask about.

“But no seriously,” she begins, leaning forward with both hands clasped like a journalist ready for her scoop of the year, “Mom told me she saw you at the partnership party last week and I was like, no way, again? What’s gotten into you?”

You groan quietly, cheeks involuntarily flushing at the answer you haven’t said out loud. Momoi takes this as a sign of major happenings behind her back that she didn’t know before, and is very eager to find out now.

“Come on, __________!”

“Can I trust you not to tell this to anybody?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?”

“Not even to your mom, okay?”



“Alright, alright, I won’t, I swear to anything that can be sworn to.” She says, offering you a handshake. It’s a sign of a deal she can’t break. “Now shoot.”

It takes you a full five seconds before you open your mouth to answer.

“It’s a guy.”

“I knew it!!” She shrieks, and at that moment all the innocent café customers turn their head to your table with faces that are either shocked or highly irritated. Momoi sends them an apologetic look before quickly looking at you, eyebrows scrunched. 

“Tell me more.”

“The thing is,” you sigh, cupping your forehead tiredly, “he’s… he’s the heir of a rival company, and if anyone ever finds out I am royally screwed.”

You don’t think Momoi remembers that her latte exists anymore upon her knowledge of this piece of scandalous news—the poor drink sits at the edge of the table, near the window, forgotten and cold. 

“Wait a second. Are you talking about the Akashi family?” Your companion replies, lowering her voice down to a whisper at the mention of the surname. You can only nod, looking at her with your palm propping your chin up. The next second is basically her jaw dropping.

Momoi mouthes oh my god and you form a silent I know with your lips, enough for her to read. She grips your other hand on top of the table with both of hers, purposely shaking it lightly in… excitement? Is that what you see in her eyes? 

Well, you can’t blame her—the thought of Akashi is also enough to put you into a level of excitement like Momoi’s right now. The only difference is that you’re good at covering up. More like you have to. It’s the kind of secret that will hurt a lot if anyone, especially your parents, finds out.

“How did it happen?” Momoi asks breathlessly.

Originally posted by butteryplanet


You turn upon hearing a male voice behind you, breaking the spell that had you staring at the bubbles in your drink in hand for minutes. It’s dim out in the balcony, and a little bit cold too, especially with you in your dress, but the lighting is just enough to let you see the visitor. That red hair captures attention even in the darkest of rooms, you think, because it also lets you know who he is.

“Evening,” you reply, sipping your drink as he walks until he’s standing next to you. “You know, I know who you are. Might not be a good idea for you to be seen with me.” The sentence is uttered with zero hostility, and Akashi, obviously, takes note. You smile, something that’s sad and cynical but at the same time uncaring and somehow undeniably attractive. He smiles back.

“Well, I know who you are, too,” he says, “and I know what you’re going to say.”

There’s a slightest raise in your eyebrows though you keep quiet.

“‘Fuck what people think’, right?”

Your lips fall open and you let out a small surprised laugh at the fact that Akashi Seijuurou, heir of the Akashi Group, your family’s biggest business rival, just used a cuss word. He chuckles, eyes crinkling charmingly at your baffled expression—you shake your head when you recover, leaning against the balcony.

“I take it that I’m more or less correct.”

“I didn’t know the Akashi family have telepathic abilities. No wonder they’re so successful.”

“I could say the same to yours,” he replies smoothly, “nobody can resist a deal with that kind of charm walking around.”

You look at him in the eye, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly and praying that he can’t see before shifting your gaze towards the golf course that stretched beyond the building, drink still in hand.

“Straightforward, aren’t we?”

He sighs a bit, turning to mimic you, scanning the stretch of green below, his hands laced together as he looks at you from his place by your side. It takes great courage for you to make eye contact.

“Why?” You ask.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he answers casually, something you’re surprised (and is that delight brewing in your stomach?) an Akashi man could do, “I feel like I wanted to get to know you better.”

You give him a skeptical, cautionary glare, one that you’ve learned to do since you were young and learning the true nature of people. 

“This is not something along the lines of I’m-flirting-with-you-and-getting-you-drunk-to-get-some-company-secrets, right? Because that’s gonna turn out awful.”

Akashi makes a face as he stifles a laugh, which kind of makes you want to laugh too, but then you realize by the sound of it that he might actually be more similar to you than you think. A young man from a rich, well-known family… adding his excellent looks and charisma to that, how many girls have gotten in line just to satisfy their desires? He must have trust issues to a certain degree as well.

“No it’s not, though I don’t judge you for asking.” He answers. Did he just step in closer to you, or is it too much champagne already in your circulation?

“I suppose it’d be nice to have a friend that understands. My friends are nice, but I envy them from having a normal life,” you say, looking down at the golf course. There’s a rowdy cheer in the banquet hall and in the back of your mind you note that the party’s not going to end soon—something you never thought you would be grateful for.

Akashi rests his face on a palm, surveying your face with great interest and somehow managing not to look like a creepy dude. Maybe it’s just thanks to how good-looking he is? The earlier thought of how many girls have chased after him creeps back, and you take a wild guess in your head, distracting you from the conversation. Twenty wouldn’t be an exaggeration. He can certainly take twenty girls to bed: at the same time or one by one, doesn’t matter.

“Tell me.”


“Tell me what you talk to your friends about.”

It takes only three seconds of silence until you tell him. About things: about the sad rich life, about trust, about boys and girls that love and hate you. About you. As the night turns darker, your connection to his becomes stronger, what with him telling you about him: about his family, about youth, about the fact that he rarely talks about everything he’s talked about to anyone except you. About how he sees a friend in you.

So you exchanged numbers.

“And then?” Momoi demands, like a child unsatisfied with her bedtime story.

“And then,” you fall into a pause, trying to find the right words. “We started texting each other. Occasional turned frequent. We met secretly during parties, making sure no one saw or noticed us.”

“And then??”

“And then what?” You ask back. “It’s been like that for six months.”

“Yeah but like you’ve kissed him, right??”

Instead of answering, you bury your face into your palms, and Momoi instantly knows the answer is affirmative. Why does she have to be so perceptive?

“That guy used to be my friend in middle school!” She says and you have to let out a small gasp. “Back then he was so much like a prince charming too, I tell you, but then he turned cold,” she pauses, “like you.” 

You pout.

“I guess that’s the defense system of the rich,” she jokes. You swat her hand but laugh along anyway. “I know that he’s a good person underneath, but I never thought he’d open up so fast to you. Dare I say he loves you, __________!”

“I’m in love with __________,” Akashi Seijuurou declares several miles away. His adviser, Midorima, does a double-take from his notebook to the heir’s face with an expression that only says one phrase: are you crazy?

“Are you crazy??” The green-haired male exclaims, snapping his small thin notebook shut so hard that it’s audible. “__________, the daughter of the group you are trying so hard to beat within the past couple of years??”

“Is there any other __________ you know of?” Akashi asks, ignoring his companion by attending to his necktie. A glance through the mirror tells him that Midorima is both dumbfounded and… just dumbfounded. 

“Why tell me.”

“I figure you need to know.”

“You made that clear, but why.”

Akashi stands up, grabbing his suit jacket and wears it, putting an arm in one sleeve.

“I’ve been secretly meeting her during parties for six long months. It’s a given that one of these days I want to sneak out.”

Midorima’s mind is spinning, he’s lightheaded, he’s dizzy, maybe he’s going to die from a heart attack in a few seconds, but he’s rational enough to acknowledge that these are merely effects of several secret breaking news revealed to him within such a short period of time. Not even years of his advisory training can help him solve this situation.

“Oh, and Midorima? Don’t tell a soul.”

Midorima’s eyes narrow at Akashi.

“I mean it.”

And with that, the redhead is gone, leaving Midorima alone in the hotel room as he slowly makes his way towards a chair to sit on. He needs to breathe.

The kiss that Akashi leaves on your lips makes you want more in its tenderness. He has you in public, exposed to the eyes of anyone who wants to look, arm around your shoulder as you sit side by side on a secluded couch in a bar at the edge of town. The two of you agreed for the first time to meet up outside of those ridiculous parties (he honestly doesn’t know how he could last half a year), each offering some sort of excuse to your parents as you’ll be out late. Yours was a sleepover at Momoi’s place, and she is more than happy to cover for you, especially since she doesn’t live with her parents anymore. Akashi’s was simply a gathering with friends.

Which is not entirely untrue, but the way he’s kissing you and putting his hand on your knee is more than just friendly.

If journalists were to be around, tomorrow’s headline will be all about two big companies’ children, one heir and the other a daughter, caught making out with each other and obviously can’t keep their hands to themselves. Which is also not entirely untrue—you’d like to think the two of do not act like you’re so sex depraved.

“God, I want you,” Akashi growls, begging you to think otherwise. Somehow you’re on his lap, a comfortable position for you to go on and pull him into another searing kiss, but there’s something in the back of your mind that’s been bothering you. Being the perceptive person he is, Akashi notes your silence and peers into your eyes questioningly.

“How long are we going to keep this a secret?”

The redhead senses this coming from you. He admits that he also has been asking the same question himself, but he supposes that you might as well talk about it sooner than later. With that, he helps you shuffle back to the seat next to him, his arm still around your shoulder and playing with your hair.

“Do you see a probability of your parents accepting our relationship?”

“To be honest… I don’t really know,” you reply, leaning into his touch for comfort. “But by the looks of how they’re working hard to, you know, outdo the Akashi Group, it’s sort of logical to assume they won’t. I mean, my mom’s been worrying about my dad overworking”

He hums.


“I see where you’re coming from.”

“What do you think they’ll do if they find out?” You ask, voice nothing above a whisper. Akashi’s eyes are half-lidded, an expression of thinking. 

“I fail to see how this escapes my logic,” he begins, his tone a little bit more serious and suddenly you’re focusing everything into what he is saying, “but from a business point of view, our relationship, especially if taken to the next level,” at the mention of that your heart flutters—

“…is like a merger.”

Akashi can see the realization seeping into your expression.

“Of course it would have to be a horizontal or market extension merger to be fair, but what I mean to say is that it’s definitely a good possibility.”

“M-hmm.” You nod, dazed.

“Do you think so, too?”


Akashi looks at you like he expects you to say something.

“How do you think they would feel about a merger, though? There are chances that one of us might be at a disadvantage, and I don’t know if our parents are willing to take that risk.”

“Risk is the basis of progress in business, sweetheart,” he says, going back to stroking your hair, “like investing and developing new products. Those are risks. You need to take it to reap the harvest.”

“But how do we convince them to take it?”

Akashi smiles, lifting you up by the waist to situate you on his lap again, pressing his lips to your forehead. You can only hide your face in his neck, and he chuckles.

“It’s simple—we build a business proposal.”

You might not entirely understand his vague answer, though the rough ideas floating in your head (including another kind of proposal) are quickly thrown out the window at the sensation of his lips meeting yours for the umpteenth time that night. You don’t know if Akashi really has the solution to get you out of this secret relationship without doing any harm, but the way his tongue asks for entrance is too sweet to ignore.

You tell yourself you can think about it tomorrow.  

anonymous asked:

Hey. Saw you were on. 😂 It's 3am here and I was wondering if you could do something where (Y/N) is Tyler's sister and is wary about her dating Josh, because Josh does it the old fashioned way and sort of "asks for her hand in datage" and she's all giggly and bubbly or something. I have no idea. I'm really sleepy but that sounds cute. You don't have ta if you don't want to.

Ahh sorry that this took so long anon, here is a little drabble, I changed the idea slightly and its pretty crap but here it is:

Originally posted by coffintack

Keep reading

Stop. Pause your scrolling. Wait. I have a thing for you.

Actual Mummy Newt.

That’s it. Resume scrolling if you want, but know that I’ll be judging you - Graves will be judging you, because actual Mummy Newt is the most adorable thing in all of creation and if you hurt his feelings by ignoring him then Graves will have to eviscerate you. He won’t want to do it. It’ll make him sad. But he’ll do it.

Now how, you might ask, does Newt evolve into Actual Mummy Newt? Like this:

There’s a girl. The girl is desperate, the girl is scared, but the girl saw Newt save a Jengu spirit from a hunter’s net on the river banks and she thinks - she hopes - that he will be kind. She tucks her baby’s blankets more tightly around her and kisses her tiny fingers and says goodbye, and she leaves the baby on the doorstep of the tiny hut. She retreats - but not far, because there are wild dogs and wild cats and she is determined to see her baby safe - and waits.

The door opens. A man peers out, cautious, wand raised. Her breath stutters to a halt and her heart freezes in her chest, because it isn’t Newt, it isn’t the kind man - it’s Graves. Graves stalks around glaring balefully at the world and it’s easy to mistake him for an angry man. The girl knows angry men. She readies herself to move forwards, to take her daughter and run, to forget this plan and ignore the better future she hoped her daughter would have -

Graves picks the baby up, gently, nervously, as though she were something precious and fragile. His face, when he looks at her, is blank; when he looks up and sees through the girl’s pitiful illusens, there is sorrow and fury and careful understanding in his gaze. Remember, Graves was an auror because he wanted to protect people. Remember, Graves was an auror who saw all the things people needed protecting from. He makes to step forwards, baby cradled in his arms, to say something, perhaps - the girl vanishes. Her heart pounds and she’s crying and that’s it, that’s goodbye, she’s done everything she can do. 

(It’s not goodbye. It’s only until later, and later is sixteen years away when the girl - the woman - holds her daughter close and presses desperate kisses into her curly hair and smooths her hands over her perfect face. In the background the man she thought was kind and the man she thought was angry stand to the side and smile. The woman will be crying then, when she says goodbye for the second time, but they will be different tears and a different goodbye and her daughter will turn around and say I’ll write, mama, and I’ll bring you photos next time to show you where I’ve been.)

But that is then and this is now, and now Graves goes down the ladder one careful step at a time and stares at the bundle held against his chest. Tiny grey eyes and tiny snuffling nose and tiny dark eyelashes blinking against tiny dark cheeks - she’s tiny.

“We’ll take her to Nairobi,” he tells Newt. “They’ll have an orphanage there, or a family who can take her in.”

Newt lays her down on his lap - she’s no longer than his thigh, she fits in like she’s made to be there and curls her legs against his stomach - and runs gentle fingers over the fluff on her head. “We can’t apparate with a baby,” he says. “It’ll be slow - a month, maybe?” The baby sneezes and Newt waves his fingers at her, distracting her while he wipes the bubbles of milk-spit away.

“It takes as long as it takes,” Graves says, and maybe he honestly deludes himself into thinking that will only be a month.

Because. That month.

The baby is two weeks old, or thereabouts. She can’t see, not really - she scowls at the world as it fails to come into focus and Graves scowls right back and makes Newt laugh. She can smell though, and for the first few nights she is miserable and howling because she can smell that her mother is gone; she tugs at the cloth of Newt’s shirt and scrabbles for milk that he doesn’t have and she wriggles against a hold that isn’t the right hold and she screams.

Newt bounces her and talks to her, always talks to her non stop nonsense words, and waits for her to get used to him. He mixes four different kinds of milk to make the best substitute he can (and sends Graves out among the habitats to collect them) and feeds it to her with a careful diligence while Graves hovers and worries about it being the right temperature. When she fusses and squalls, Newt rubs her back until burps and makes a face as he cleans away the excess milk.

There are a lot of cleaning charms involved. Babies make a lot of mess. Newt switches into old clothes, comfy clothes, over-large button shirts with the sleeves rolled up soft cardigans that he can wrap around the baby like a blanket and hug her against his chest. He bounces her and he babbles to her and he coos in delight when she looks at him and smiles, even though he knows it doesn’t mean anything at that age. He gets up in the middle of the night and shambles over to the cot on the other side of the room and stifles a yawn as he picks her up and tries to convince her to tell him what’s wrong.

“She’s a baby,” Graves grumps from where he’s trying to osmose through the sheets and become one with the mattress. “She can’t tell you what’s wrong. She doesn’t speak English, she speaks loud.”

“Can too,” Newt protests. “She says she’s hungry.”

Graves’ reply contains several swear words at that and Newt pointedly covers the baby’s ears. Graves’ reply to that is to offer a rude hand gesture on his zombie-stumbling way down to the kitchen to retrieve and heat up the milk. He hands it to Newt and stands behind him while Newt feeds her, Graves’ arms wrapped around Newt’s waist and Graves’ chin balanced on Newt’s shoulders.

“She needs a name,” Newt says softly while he’s tucking her blanket around her and setting her back down to sleep.

“It’s only three weeks to Nairobi,” Graves says back just as softly.

“I was thinking Claire,” Newt continues as though Graves hadn’t spoken, and the stubborn tilt to his chin says that Newt is prepared to engage selective deafness however many times Graves tries to raise the point.

Graves doesn’t try that hard. Six weeks later - because Newt and schedules? No. - they arrive in Nairobi and take Claire to the local centre for magical fostering. Ten days after that they leave Nairobi as the official, legally recognised adoptive parents of one Claire Mathilda Scamander-Graves, and by that point Graves has even learnt to keep the milk in a coolbox in the bedroom instead of falling down the ladder to the kitchen every night in search of it.

anonymous asked:

Hi... i have literally NO IDEA what goes on in Tumblr social circles, so i have a question: who is riptidescap and what did they do?? (I'm really sorry if this is insensitive or something, I just don't know who to ask...) (please don't feel obligated to answer if it makes you uncomfortable or anything tho!!)

Thanks for asking so nicely <3

I’m answering this one anon as a proxy for the dozen or so I’ve received asking what’s going on; I really would prefer not to talk about the details of it after this, if possible. (Under a read more because it got long.)

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Ladrien Summer (14/?)

ladrien summer tag | table of contents

Amusement parks were awesome.

Adrien could say this with certainty, now that he was actually seeing one in real life for the first time.

It loud and bright and crowded, laughter and tears heard in equal measure, sugar and fryer oil hanging in the air and balloons waving in the wind.

A roller coaster rattled by, shrieks piercing the air for a second and then getting swallowed by the general hubbub that blanketed the whole park.

…That looked like fun.

He glanced over at Marinette to gauge her reaction to it, and found her watching him with something like fondness.

Adrien felt his face heat, scrubbing the back of his head and looking away. “So, uh. How do you feel about roller coasters?”

(She was already swallowing her discomfort for him, he shouldn’t be making her go on rides she didn’t want to go on too.)

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a good life.

pairing: riley matthews & lucas friar 
word count: 1,212 
prompt: “day five: future -  jump past the canon world we know and take a shot at where these losers will be down the road” 
written for: rucas fanfic week 2017 
summary: because who knows what’s going to happen in the future, but riley and lucas know as long as they have each other, they have nothing to worry about 
notes: this fic is…not my best, but i’m not totally unhappy with the final result. this isn’t necessarily a future fic per se, but it still encompasses the overall theme of the future. the last little section goes along with the twins meet world hc created by myself and maggie @friarlucas. this fic also isn’t as long as some of my other fics, but i hope you still enjoy it! 

“What would you do if you had a time machine?” Lucas asked, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth and leaning back into the cushions of the couch.

Riley hummed in thought, considering the question. The pair had just finished watching Back to the Future, Lucas had been shocked when Riley revealed that she had never seen it before, quite the role reversal in their relationship. They had the apartment to themselves, with her parents out on a date and Auggie with Doy for the evening, and were enjoying the time alone.

“I’m not sure, what would you do?” Riley asked, turning the question around, causing Lucas to sigh, a light laugh escaping her lips. “I swear I’m not just asking because I have no idea, I really wanna know.”

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isatastrophe  asked:

ahhh, do levihan for the ask! :) (you don't have to if you don't want to though :P)

Oh honey, I would NEVER refuse Levihan! (Sorry this took so long because ughhhhh…college entrance exams….-_-)



Originally posted by sajoou

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anonymous asked:

omg do the ziam fic

Single dad Liam takes his new neighbor, Zayn, into his house for a couple of weeks while Zayn’s house is being renovated. The two aren’t even dating, but with little sleepless James to deal with, they might as well be raising him together.

Based on this prompt: (x) (also found on ao3 under the same username)

Pausing for a moment, his fist only inches from the stained mahogany, Zayn bit the edge of his lower lip as he once again felt the need to ponder his decision to knock on this door. Maybe it was the perfectly trimmed hedges that did it for him, maybe the slight smell of a Crockpot dinner wafting underneath the crack in the front door. Maybe it was the fact that he could just barely make out music coming from inside. But this house felt right.

Breathing out, he finally allowed himself to bridge the gap between his hand and the wood. Having already practiced what he was going to say at least fifty times, he shouldn’t have been nervous. That didn’t mean he couldn’t feel his heart racing, though, as the sound of footprints–accompanied by the sound of singing–came closer and closer. The door swung open, Zayn only able to catch the belting of “–Y wonderwall” before the singer, a shirtless, blonde man, abruptly closed his wide-open mouth. Zayn’s eyes immediately scrolled down, noting his abs but catching on his happy trail.

“Sorry,” the man stammered, his face flushing. “I’m expecting a friend to drop by, and so, I just assumed, you know…” A gulp caught in his throat as he looked down his own body, realizing his attire was also potentially not appropriate for a fellow he’d never met before. “Anyway…” he finished, rubbing his hands along his thighs. A smile grew on his lips, crinkles forming by his eyes as he did so. The sight infectiously forced Zayn to smile back, his initial worry replaced by a feeling of curiosity. “I’m Liam.” He stuck out his hand, very proper like. Zayn smirked, but took his hand anyway. “You must be the new neighbor, right?”

Zayn nodded, gulping as he tried to find the right words when all he could seem to focus on was the wall of abs in front of him. “Yeah, I’m Zayn.” Taking a breath in, he forced himself to bring his eyes up to Liam’s face as he clarified, “But that’s actually kinda why I’m here, mate. My house is gonna get renovated for a couple of weeks cause it’s really not livable right now. Mold and stuff, you know.” With a flick of his wrist, he continued on. “And I’m an artist, and don’t really have a lot of money…” He scratched his head, not able to keep his eyes on Liam’s. The thought of having to ask such a favor hurt Zayn immensely. “But I was wondering if you maybe had an extra bedroom I could rent just for a bit?”

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nadinedimples  asked:

If you don't mind I would really like a newtxreader where the reader is a really short(5') sytherin who stood up to bullies for newt even though she's really insecure for newts feelings for her. Really fluffy and sweet with some of newts children (fantastic beasts). I understand if you don't have time or you don't like the prompt but I'd really appreciate a pick me up. Thank you so much for your time I think your a fantastic writer.

Newt Scamander X Reader – An Unlikely Friend

A/N – Sorry this took so long, major block. Also, since we’re in troubling times right now hopefully this will help people cheer up a bit ; )

Warnings – None.

Rating – T


Originally posted by elenarinya

“-and that’s how we brew a Confusing Concoction.” Professor Spraydel, a greying lady with more hair than she could contain, concluded after a brief introduction to the lesson. “Now, everyone into pairs please, you’ll be working together to make the potion. Mr Scamander, I’m afraid we have an odd number in class today so you’re with me dear.”

The class snickered as Newt sloped to the front of the class; this was a weekly occurrence since the class was always an uneven number yet Professor Spraydel always presented it like it was something new.

You glanced at the empty seat next to you where Olive Perplinski usually sat. Apparently, she was still in the hospital wing after being incorrectly hexed during the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson; the spell had been mispronounced, resulting in toxic purple smoke escaping Olive’s mouth whenever she spoke.

You raised your hand, “Excuse me Professor, Olive hasn’t come back from the hospital wing yet.”

“Oh.” Professor Spraydel perked up, eagerly taking the opportunity to put Newt with somebody his own age. “In that case, Mr Scamander will pair up with you for today. Go on now dear,” she ushered him to the back of the class, “that’s it.”

Somehow, Newt looked even more embarrassed to be working with another student rather than the teacher. You wondered momentarily whether it was because the two of you were the only Slytherin/ Hufflepuff pairing or if he was just afraid of you like he was the other students.

“Now everyone, you have 45 minutes to complete the concoctions and five minutes to test them at the end; antidotes will be provided afterwards. Begin.”

“Hi.” You said over various sounds of bubbling cauldrons, chopping boards, and clinking vials.

Newt hunched over his potions book, hiding his face with a mumbled, “Hello,” back.

“I’m (Y/N).” You continued, undiscouraged by his shy nature.

“Yes, I k-know.”

You smiled empathetically. If you had been as ostracised as Newt had been during his time at Hogwarts, you would have probably acted the same way. You’d often observed Newt from afar during the years because Slytherin and Hufflepuff were usually put together for shared classes; it gave you time to admire his gentle manner and patience, even if he tended to get a little distracted. You also appreciated that he never fought or snapped back when bullied, which was the majority of the time, nor did he become bitter as some others may have done; it complimented his shy nature.

In the past, you’d desired the opportunity to speak with Newt and extend your hand in friendship but on the few occasions that you’d attempted to he was nowhere to be found; today’s potion lesson would be your first real chance.

“So, I think if we start with dried sage-” You picked the wrong ingredient on purpose, hoping that it would help bring him out of his shell.

“(Y/N), NO!” He grabbed your wrist from the cauldron which was bubbling away with pre-gathered blob fish mucus.

“Something wrong?”

“It’ll uh- It’ll explode.”

“Oh? Well, I best put this down then. Alright, where do we start?”

“It um- it’s actually dried rosemary so uh, you weren’t far off.”

“Right, I’ll chop that up and you can tell me what I need to get next.” You placed him in charge of the situation, deciding to take over if he got too anxious later on.

“Um I- I d-don’t think that’s a good i-idea.”

“Nonsense, if it weren’t for you, this pot would be up in smoke. So, I’ll get to chopping.”

With ten minutes to spare, the two of you had what looked to be an exquisite potion and as suspected, once Newt new what he was talking about in regards to the concoction, he had become much more confident, talking more to himself than you; you didn’t mind, so long as he wasn’t distressed.

“You did great Newt.” You praised excitedly, “You ever thought of being a potioneer?”

Newt blinked rapidly, taken aback by the comment, then once again bent over pages of his notebook, clamming up completely.

“Awh, don’t tell me you’re shy now, seriously, I think ours may be the best in the class and-”

“Can you just stop?” Newt murmured shakily.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be my friend anymore, the lesson’s almost over.”

A stray tear escaped him, you looked around to see that nobody was watching, leaning against the book to shield him from view in case he should cry some more. “Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just… I thought we were doing really well together and you’re real’ nice so-”

“That’s enough.” He whispered more harshly this time, a finality to his voice. “It’s bad enough that people hate me, I don’t need you setting up some elaborately cruel prank and pretending to like me to make it hurt more.”

“Newt, I didn’t- That’s not-”

“Ooh, this looks promising.” Professor Spraydel interrupted, cutting you off.

You didn’t get a chance to explain to Newt, he hurtled out the classroom as soon as the class was dismissed.

“Oy (Y/N).” Michael Bowspark called over. “Pity you had to work with such a freak innit.”

The group around him howled madly with laughter, clearly waiting for you to join in. You bristled, and yelled, “SHUT UP MICHAEL.”

You ran out in search of Newt, leaving the group in stunned silence for a few seconds before more raucous laughter followed you out.

In the following weeks, Newt avoided you completely, even in lessons. It wasn’t like before though because snapping at Michael lost you the few friends you had within your own house. Although you knew it meant they weren’t real friends and you should be glad to be rid of them, you’d never felt so utterly alone; Olive only stayed with you for lessons because she had to.

Unbeknownst to you, Newt kept an eye out, waiting to see how long it would take for you to admit the game was over and regroup with your friends; as each day dwindled on, it became less and less likely that you would, and more obvious that this may not be a game or trick of some form. Still, he kept his defences up, staying away from you just in case, disappearing as he always had after lessons in case you got the urge to search for him.

You gave up hope of companionship for a while after a nasty argument in the common room. Various snippets of unimportant conversation surrounded you as you trudged flights of complicated moving staircases to the library where you hoped you’d find peace.

“-and the nurse couldn’t fix her boils-”

“-It’s true, the slugs really ate my herbology homework-”

“-So, I can’t go home for Christmas now cos’ me pa hates muggles-”

“-P-p-please, let me -d-down-”

You came to a halt, searching for the source of the last voice which was unmistakably Newt’s terrified squeak. It didn’t take long as a small crowd gathered at an unmoving area of the staircase where a lanky, sneering Ravenclaw girl had just begun levitating Newt for all to see; she was flanked by two burly Gryffindors, who you supposed were her bodyguards. Without hesitating, you ran up the last few steps, pushing forcefully to the front of the crowd.

“What’s your bets lads?” The girl jeered through her incredibly nasally voice. “How many spins before he vomits?”

You stood behind the taller, more built guy, though it was hard to call him a guy as opposed to a walking slab of beef with a face. Despite the fact that he was leagues taller than you, as most people were, you reached up, yanking his hair back sharply and pulling him closer to your level. He screamed in agony, turning everyone’s attention to you. The Ravenclaw turned to you, casually slinging her wand over her shoulder, keeping Newt suspended as he watched with streaming, embarrassed tears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The Ravenclaw demanded casually.

“YOU. PUT. HIM. DOWN. RIGHT. NOW.” You spoke through gritted teeth, unable to contain your seething fury.

“I think you’ll find that I have extra muscle.”


The girl’s lip curled, making her face look more like that of a rat’s, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” You raised the boy’s head slightly, showing your full intention and capability.

“Urgh, fine.” She huffed, lowering Newt slowly to the floor, where he scrambled up, getting behind you for further protection. “It’s not like he was much fun anyway, come on boys.” She parted the crowd, who were dispersing at your savage gaze as fast as they could manage to get a staircase.

“You alright?” Your tone took a worried edge on as you turned to Newt, craning your neck to face him properly.

He was wiping his tears away whilst staring at you in disbelief, constantly wondering how something so small could be such a threat, “Y-you were r-really going to h-hurt him.”

“Actually, he was really heavy, I doubt I could’ve done much.”

“T-then how-”

“You make a scary face and keep a confident voice, it’ll fool most people. Though, come to think of it, you should learn some defence spells or something, then you’d be okay.”

“I k-know the spells, I just d-d-don’t like to use t-them.”

You exhaled tiredly, leaning your head against the wall to laugh almost silently. Newt watched as if you’d gone mad.

“(Y/N)? Are you a-alright? If you need h-help-”

You waved his offer away weakly, gasping for air between more desperate giggles, “You’re- really- something- Can’t- believe- you- know- how- but-”

Newt caught your drift, laughing a little himself, though often checking to see that you were okay for him to join in.

When you finally regained control, you asked in all seriousness, “What were they even doing it for?”

“I uh- I wouldn’t tell them where I go after classes, they thought it would be a good place to bunk off lessons.”

“Ahh, your super, secret hiding place, got’cha.”

“Y-Yes quite. Um, actually, (Y/N), I’m afraid I o-owe you a bit of an apology about that p-potions lesson.”

“Forget it.” You smiled, relaxed.

Newt tensed up, stating formally, “I will do no such thing. You were being polite and I made a rather rude assumption against your good name. I swear, I’ll not rest until I make it up to you.”

“Oh yeah? And how’re you gonna do that?”

“I’ll… I’ll…” He paused, the sudden bravado disappearing as quickly as it had come until he looked a little hopeful, “Do um, do you like magical creatures?”

You chuckled quizzically, “Sure, I think they’re unique.”

“Then I’ll… I’ll show you my hiding place, come on.”

He walked past you, gesturing for you to follow down the many steps you’d just travelled up. You followed eagerly, curious to see how the magical creatures and his secret place interlinked.

To say you were out of breath was an understatement. You were used to long walks through the Hogwarts grounds but you didn’t usually have to trek through the thick wood of the Forbidden Forest in full uniform. At first sight of the forest you had been hesitant to proceed, knowing of some of the dangerous creatures that lurked within but at Newt’s first real smile at you, you knew that it would be okay somehow, like he knew what lay ahead.

After trekking further on, until you could only see the towers of Hogwarts above the treeline, Newt stopped in front of a large thorn bush. He pushed a few of the branches aside, leaving a small opening for you to enter. You looked from the opening to Newt, seeing how it was too small for any person.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe, I promise.” He reassured you, nodding back at the gap.

You sighed, hunching up as small as you could to avoid the thorns but you quickly realised that each one you hit turned to smoke then rematerialized as though it had never been touched.

“It’s just an illusion.” Newt explained, following you in and putting the real thorn branches back where they belonged.

You came to the end of the illusion tunnel until you were in a rounded hut, made entirely of weaved willow. Piles of cushions and muddy blankets covered the floor, acting like a thin carpet, and animals the likes of which you’d never seen had nests and sets in various spots of the room.

You were awe-struck as you watched a small, green, leaf-like creature climb up Newt’s trouser leg.

Newt looked down, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him, this is just Pickett, he has some attachment issues.”

“And Pickett is a…?”

“A Bowtruckle. He was my first rescue, it seems his family tree suffered lightning damage but he was the only one who stayed to protect it, I imagine that’s why he has issues with others of his kind.”

The confidence faded from Newt’s voice momentarily as he gazed at you apprehensively, “Do you… do you like him?”

By now Pickett had stubbornly made his way up to the crook of Newt’s elbow, you bent down to the creature’s level, “Hello Pickett, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Pickett paused, not used to being addressed by anyone other than Newt. He turned to glare at you, sticking his tongue out in obvious disdain.

“Now Pickett,” Newt reprimanded, “that’s not how we treat guests, be nice to (Y/N), (s)he was nice to me.”

Pickett ignored the request and continued his climb.

You were about to speak again but you were interrupted by a mournful warbling, you felt the sudden urge to cry at the terrible sound, like something dreadful had just happened but you couldn’t remember what.

Newt bent to see four small, murky green chicks, residing on a bright yellow pillow, “Ahh, Audrey, now is not the time for that, see, your sisters are being nice and quiet, aren’t they?”

“What’s wrong with her?” You asked sadly. “Is she sick?”

“No, Augurey’s simply chirp when it’s about to rain but she tends to do so at any given time, it’s why she can’t be reintroduced with the others when they grow a little more.”

You raised your eyebrows at his use of the word chirp, “So she doesn’t get the weather right, how come that means she can’t go back out there?”

“Augurey’s only fly in the rain, and since Audrey can’t get it right it would make her survival increasingly difficult.”

You nodded, feeling a little better now that the wailing had stopped. “So this place, you made it?”

“With magic.”

“And you rescue animals?”

“Yes, I want them to be understood as something more than potion parts… I-is that okay?”

You looked back to Newt, who was towering nervously nearby, much closer than he was before, “Just tell me one more thing.”

Newt gulped apprehensively, waiting for you to run out and tell the headmaster.

“How can I help?”


“This is a great cause.” You stopped to admire a fairy that had just appeared in front of you. “I want to be part of it.”

Newt’s heart skipped a beat at your apparent enthusiasm, “F-forgive me for saying it but… I’ve never met a… a Slytherin like you.”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly, “Yeah well… we’re not as bad as you’d think. So, can I help then? Am I in?”

“Y-yes, of course. C-come on, I’ll t-teach you about kneazles.”

You moved to a small pile of books, kept safely behind a fireguard away from the creatures. Throughout the remainder of the day, Newt taught you all about the creature’s he kept, pointing out why he kept them and why the needed him. Even though it was a lot to take in, you felt confident that with Newt to teach you, you’d be able to remember it all in no time.

They Don't Know You

[title]: they don’t know you

[pairing]: shawn mendes x reader

[requested]: yes – @thugshawn

“So, you are new in town, and you go to camp to ‘make new friends’, but people are not that friendly there, and the only one who treat you well is Shawn, and a friendship start to grow between you and him, and soon a big love too”

[summary]: requested prompt ↑

[warnings]: swearing

[author’s note]: even though it’s only been like 5 days since i last posted, i feel like i haven’t posted in so long!

Originally posted by thugshawn

AS soon as your white converse hit the pavement, your mind starts to clutter with negative thoughts and scenarios.

You slam the car door behind you, muttering a quick “bye” to your mom.

You weren’t happy about moving, obviously. It was a new place, way different from your old town. You never liked the idea being the new girl, the homeschooled freak. But your parents wanted a change, to try to make a difference in your life instead of the same thing everyday. They were putting you in high school, a public high school. Pine Ridge may be a very nice, cozy school but you weren’t used to any of this.

To make matters worse, your parents decided to sign you up (without your consent) for a camp to ‘make new friends’. The only problem with this was the fact that you didn’t want to go to this dumb camp. It was late June, and school had already let out in Toronto. You had lived here for only about a week, and so far, no new friends have decided to make themselves presentable to you. Six weeks of summer camp. Six. Six weeks of complete torture, considering you assumed most of these teens already knew each other. Six weeks of sitting alone at lunch so you don’t have to converse to any of the other kids. Six weeks of tossing and turning while you try to sleep, thinking you’d rather be at home right now watching “The Office”.

You were new here, in Pickering, freaky, right? Being the new girl? Your dad got a job promotion up here a few months ago, and made you and your family move to Pickering, all the way from Illinois. Of course, you had no friends, and you were pretty shy. How cliché, right?

You adjust the strap to your duffel bag on your shoulder, running a hand through your hair.

Chatter fills the air. Non-stop chatter from gossiping teenage girls; just your favorite.

The field you stand on is filled with mostly females, but a lot of boys too.

You fix your top, looking around for the registration place.

Your eyes skim the field, no sign of anywhere you could go. You sigh, now looking for someone to ask for directions.

“Excuse me?” You ask a nearby girl, blowing bubbles out of her pink bubble gum. She turns to you slowly, an annoyed look on her face. She’s surrounded with a bunch of pretty girls, all wearing very little clothing. “Hi, uh, can you tell me where registration is, please?” You ask as nicely as possible.

Her bubble pops as she rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. Get lost, loser.” She sneers.

You raise an eyebrow. “You might wanna consider putting on more clothes. A white van could come and pick you up anytime, you never know.” You shrug.

You turn on your heel, rolling your eyes. You hated snobby rich girls, so stuck up and annoying. You didn’t care how stereotypical it was.

“She looks like a prude.” You hear a girl say behind you.

Well, you look like a slut.

“Shawn!” You hear behind you, making you turn. The snobby girl and her little posse all wear overenthusiastic smiles on their faces, twirling their hair and pulling up their shorts, making them shorter than they already are.

“Hi, Kelsey.” The boy says, looking anywhere but at ‘Kelsey’.

Your eyes travel to a tall boy, standing next to the group. He wears a small smile, running his hand through his hair. A black tight short sleeved shirt clung to his arms, chest and abs.

The snobby girl twirls her hair, resting her hand on the boy’s bicep. Huge bicep, by the by.

“I missed you over the school year, Shawn.” She pouts, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Yup.” The boy nods slightly, biting his lip.

By now, you’re practically drooling over the boy, he was hot.

The group of girls laugh obnoxiously, making you cringe.

You continue to inspect the boy until you notice the group of girls snickering and whispering to each other, some pointing at you.

They were talking about you.

Kelsey gets up onto her tippy toes, whispering something into the boy’s ear, making him scoff. The boy brushes Kelsey’s hand off of his bicep. Your eyebrows furrow as he says something to her, making her eyes widen and her jaw drop. Your eyes then widen as he begins to walk towards you.

Kelsey scoffs, whipping her hair over her shoulder before turning to talk to her friend.

“Hi, I’m Shawn.” The handsome boy smiles, making your knees weak.

“Hey—Hi, um, I’m Y/N.” You smile nervously, trying to find the right words.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He grins.

You smile again, your eyes wandering over to the group again. The girls continue to chew their gum like cows, twirling strands of their hair between their fingertips, but this time, a different guy towers over the girls.

Kelsey giggles at something the guy says, jutting out her hips and dropping something behind her so she can deliberately bend down to pick it up and stick her ass in the guy’s face. You cringe again.

“What’s up with her? No offense, but she seems even more stuck up than my cousin, and she hates everyone!“

Shawn chuckles, shaking his ahead. “She’s just… a bitch.”

You laugh, turning to look at the girls.

“And she hates everyone.”

“What are you looking at, klutz?” A girl shouts at you, making everyone’s eyes widen at your stare.

“Nothing much.” You mutter, shrugging.

You hear a small masculine snicker, making a small smirk pull at your lips.

“Shut the fuck up.” Kelsey yells.

“Why don’t you make me?” You challenge, stepping towards her. Shawn grabs your arm, gripping it tightly.

Kelsey snarls, as you lunge at each other. As you’re about to pounce on each other, Shawn wraps his arms around your waist, restraining you, while Kelsey on the other hand, lands on the shoulder of the muscular guy she was talking to before. He wraps his arms around her body, carrying you away from you.

“She’s such a bitch!” Kelsey yells, glaring at you.

You roll your eyes as Shawn places you down on your feet.

Shawn turns you to look at him as he places both large hands on your shoulders. “Don’t worry about them, Y/N. They don’t know you, beautiful.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Shawn.” You smile, staring at your feet as a light blush creep onto your cheeks.

A small strand of hair falls in front of you, as Shawn uses his fingers to push the hair behind your ear again.

You smile to yourself before Shawn lifts your chin up with his index and middle fingers.

He grins, chuckling before placing a small kiss on your lips.

“Why don’t we get you registered, huh?” He smirks as you pout, wanting more.

“I hate you.” You mutter, trailing behind him.

“Don’t pull a Kelsey!”


kind of a bad ending sorry

hope you liked it felipe! :)

[ want more? → masterlist ]

— november 4th, 2016

confessions between superheroes

inspired by this comic by @spatziline

Adrien side here. [tag] [chronological]

not quite what @leaflioness wanted? yet. sorry about that. I’m getting there, I promise ;v;

“Je t'aime, my Lady.”

She hears him, but she doesn’t understand, so she laughs instead. “Careful, silly cat. I might think you mean it.”

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anonymous asked:

I think I may be bisexual, but I don't know. I'm having a very hard time coming to terms with my sexuality. I need advice.

I had trouble also, not so much in doing the things that would eventually lead me to recognize my sexuality, like doing things with other men, but rather taking the time to really tell myself that I may not be as straight as I thought I was. 

For the longest time I wanted to tell myself that I was just exploring and that it was more or less a one or two time thing. Not that there was anything wrong with not being straight, but I just don’t think I really wanted to be anything else at the time. I liked where I was, all nice and safe in my bubble of ignorant bliss. 

But let me tell you a story about the first time I admitted to anyone, even myself, that I was bisexual. Trust me, it was a surprise to me.

So I have two very awesome friends, insanebluegenius and ben-drown-ed (Beth and Ryssa respectively). A few years ago before I joined the Marine Corps (a couple months before, not even?) we were all playing a drinking game in Beth’s room and having a good time. I was definitely the least sober of the three of us because I barely had a tolerance and still didn’t like the taste of beer, let alone some green apple vodka, but regardless I drank. I ended up with my shirt off like usual when I ended up at a friend’s house. Idk why but that was my thing I guess?

There were two small dumbells, maybe 1 pound or so and I ended up holding one up to my forehead and proclaiming that I was a unicorn. Then the second one also and yelling “I AM THE BICORN!”, to which Ryssa made some snarky comment about it more or less being a factual thing. I inquired and she explained pretty much how, with my sexual activity and such, that it was very likely (or rather just completely obvious) that I was Bi and that I was just maybe in denial. To which I responded “NUH-UH”. (Yeah, totally not in denial right?)

But through some more dialogue that I can’t remember because it was just over 4 years ago, we, rather I, came to the conclusion that, HOLY SHIT WOW I’M BISEXUAL WHAT A FUCKING CONCEPT. YOU GUYS YOU JUST HELPED ME GET A FOOT OUT OF THE CLOSET!!!

Now, Ryssa being my best Lesbian friend ever and Beth being the best Pan friend ever, they were absolutely more than ready, willing, and able to help me come to terms with myself in this way, and not only that, they were SO proud of me when I did. This was crucial in that I was starting out of the closet with all the love and acceptance anyone could ever want. It gave me such confidence to be able to tell others later on down the road.

Now you may be thinking “well, what/how do I tell my friends/family/etc and what if they don’t accept me or think that my sexuality is even a real thing?”

I have answers:

How to tell your parents:

DO tell them how I told my mom: (one of a few ways to break the news) I was across country at the time, in the Marine Corps, and as a result, couldn’t be there in person. I didn’t want to wait though since Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had just been repealed. I opened Facebook and sent my mom a private message saying more or less “Mom, I have something to tell you that’s been on my mind for a while. I know it’s who I am and I know you’ll still love me no matter what. I’m bisexual.”

This sorta went both ways with her and I ended up with a mixed reaction. Now, you should know, she’s a lesbian herself and a former Marine. She was pretty much ok with the news but she wasn’t thrilled. She didn’t want me spreading the news around like I did with most other things. She didn’t want me going through the struggles she went through due to her own sexuality in a time where being homosexual or anything of that nature would get you kicked out of the military (or worse in some cases). So she understood, but she was mainly concerned for me and my well-being. Good to go, I can understand that. Love you, mom.

DON’T tell them how I told my dad/everybody else: Now this is when I came out to everybody on Facebook. On April Fool’s Day a few years ago. I posted a status stating “Everyone, I think you should know, I’m bisexual.” The positive response was overwhelming! It went so much better than expected. However, it wasn’t without consequence. There was one person, just one, that had something negative to say about it. My father. On Facebook he was nice and loving “I still love you, son!”… Immediately he turned around and texted me,(I’m paraphrasing) “Wow, Josh, what a disappointment. I really expected more from you.” (this next one is his words exactly. I remember them every. single. day.) “That’s just what every real man wants to hear from their son, ‘oh by the way dad, I’m half a fag!” 

At the time, I was fucking livid. I couldn’t stand to hear my dad’s voice or read his messages or anything. But this brings me to the next point. There is a quote from Game of Thrones that I hold very dear to me and I remember these words every time I remember my father’s. It was said by Tyrion Lannister, whom some know as The Imp (because of his Dwarfism):

Any time anyone ever tries to use your sexuality against you, or say that you’re not normal, or that you’re ‘half a fag’ or anything, I want you to think of these words right here. Wear it like armor and it can NEVER be used to hurt you. These words have given me so much strength when I’ve needed it.

As for the ones that don’t think bisexuality is a real thing, think you’re just being greedy,  or want to contribute to the growing problem of bisexual erasure, just remind them that it is actually a real thing to be able to love anyone at any given time for any reason, sexual or otherwise.

I usually explain to people that it’s like eating sweets at times. “Man I really love this cake today. That pie yesterday was pretty awesome and I still like that pie, but this cake is cool too.” It really is that simple to understand! Don’t let anyone label you as JUST gay/lesbian or JUST straight just because you may be in a relationship with someone of a certain gender at that  time. I mean, what, heaven forbid you want to be monogamous to someone, right? It’s something all bisexuals struggle with at some point or another and as long as you keep strong and hold fast to who you KNOW you are, others will accept you for that as well.

The ones that don’t accept you were never worth your time in the first place. This can be hard to understand or comprehend, and you may be tempted to give some people a few more chances than they deserve because they might even be family but let me reiterate this for you. If they can not comprehend that you have come to terms with yourself in this way and they treat you differently in any way because of your sexuality, they are NOT, nor have they ever been, worth a single second of your time. 

Just remember that there is a time, a place, and a proper way to say anything and everything. This goes for coming outs, too.

There are SO many more people willing to help you out and give advice and accept you into their open arms than there are that want to hurt you or say horrible things to you or whatnot, especially more than there were years ago, so you’re starting out with at least that advantage. Be proud of who you are and stand up for what you believe in and never let anyone take that away from you.

As always my ask box is open and if you want to communicate through any other means (text, facebook, etc) do not hesitate to ask me about it. I’m here for you and anyone else that needs it. 

with love, 


cr-yptid  asked:

I just found your blog and I'm in love with your art! Especially the next generation of my little pony!! It's so cute and sweet! I was wondering how the next generation all got their cutie marks? You don't have to draw a comic or anything, I'm just interested because you're so creative with the stories that go along with this AU I'm addicted!!!

Aw chucks, thank you! Glad to know you enjoy my Next Generation art and the stories I come up with for them (sometimes I wonder if they aren’t too lame).

Sure thing. Here we go then! This will be sort of long so I’ll keep the info under the link.

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Sometimes Sorry Isn’t Enough- Part 4.

A/N- I MADE THE EYE GIF WOOO SO PROUD OF MY SELF! so this is the final part for Sometimes sorry isn’t enough xx

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warning: People passing out, mentions of sex, mentions of breakups and paralysis.

Summary: So after souless Sam tried to kill the reader she left and stayed with a friend (who became her boyfriend) Andrew. The reader kept in touch with Dean even after Sam got his soul back. After promising the reader he’ll visit, Dean tells Sam the truth. The both of them go to the readers new house with her new boyfriend and Sam’s wall starts to crack and he passes out. That’s basically Part One, Two and Three. Now here’s Four, enjoy xx <3 xx

Your warm hands were on his cold face as you kept screaming for him to wake up. Dean on your right freaking out knowing what the consequences were yet they still went along and did it. Andrew seeing the pain on your face mixed with various other emotions, one of them including love. An emotion he has yet to achieve or maybe he was never meant to be. 

Sam was stuck, physically and emotionally stuck. He tried to move his body but he felt paralysed from the neck down and all he could feel was heat. Sam swung his head slightly to the right as he smelt meat being burnt, like someone left the grill unattended. 

Squinting his eyes he came to see his skin bubbling off his flesh as he was on the grill. The paralytic agent seemed to disappear as he screamed in agony feeling his skin melt through his bones.

“Y/N, you need to try something” Deans panicked voice caused you to screech in frustration.

“WHAT DO I DO? TELL ME AND I’LL DO IT” You held Sam’s hands feeling the similar spark ignite the buried feelings you kept in the dark. Those feelings overcrowded the emotions you had towards Andrew in the matter of seconds as the only thing on your mind was Sam.

“YOU TWO LOVE EACH OTHER! They say true love is the purest and powerful form of magic.” You took in Dean’s words as you wiped the sweat from your forehead. You gently raised your knee and placed it on the other side of Sam so you were straddling him.

“Sam? B-baby.” You held his head in between your two hands as you calmly called him back.

“Baby I need you to listen to my voice. Sam come back to me, please. I’m asking you to come back to me” Your vision was clouded by the salty tears pooling. Sam heard a familiar echo as he was about to pass out from the excruciating pain though it disappeared in an instant. Sam screamed making his neck veins more prominent as the fire ate away his body.

“I need my moose back.” Your hands shook as you hit your head onto his chest. Sam felt a sudden shift of weight on his chest which brought him some form of comfort among this torture. He then heard the echo again, it was your voice.

“Remember you took me to the library? You said we were gonna have a chill day so I picked out a book to read and so did you. But for three hours you just watched me, in those three hours you fell and so did i” Sam could hear your voice loud and clear. He held onto your hope and he pleaded for you to keep going.

“I need you to kiss my nose in the morning waking me up, i need you to kick my ass back into shape. I need you to fight with me even though it’s completely unnecessary and have amazing makeup sex. I need you to need me unconditionally. Sammy, I need you because I still love you” You whispered the last part hoping it would make it more meaningful also so Andrew wouldn’t hear which unfortunately, he did.

Dean watched you pour bottled up feelings in the matter of seconds and he saw the relief on your face. You hadn’t said it out loud yet but you still loved him. With all your heart. You saw Sam’s eyes move and suddenly they shot wide open. For a split second you swore you saw fire over take his beautiful hazel green/brown eyes yet you pushed that aside.

“SAM!” Sam inhaled a large amount of air and you instantly hugged him. You sobbed into his shoulder and his frail arms snaked their way around your body. You felt his heart pound against his chest as he tried to get his breathing back to normal.

“I love you too” Sam coughed out as you released him. You pulled back and saw his strained expression that still managed to portray love. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ears and he leaned into your touch. His eyes shut close missing the feel of your hands against his skin. 

Missing the way your skin electrocutes him. He missed you. You heard Dean cough which brought you two back to reality. You climbed off Sam and Dean pulled him up into a bone crushing hug.

“I thought I lost you dude”  You avoided Andrews hurt expression as it overflowed your heart with guilt. He just watched his girlfriend admit she loved another man and if roles were reversed, you didn’t know what you’d do.

“How long was I out?” Sam asked his relieved older brother.

“About two minutes, why?

“It felt like two weeks, but Y/N’s voice brought me out” Sam glanced over to you and you smiled with all the power you could muster. Because honestly, you didn’t know what to do next.

“I’m glad you’re okay, man” Andrew said as he patted Sam’s back and he walked to the room you two share… or perhaps, shared. As soon as the door closed you whacked Sam’s chest multiple times.

“DON'T” whack “YOU” whack “EVER” whack “DO” whack “THAT” whack and by the time you could say again he enveloped you into a hug. He rested his chin on the tip of your head and you were pressed against his chest.

“I love you and I’m sorry. Y/N, this person here” Sam put your hand to his heart. “he would never hurt you. I would never hurt you, ever. I’m so sorry” You nodded against his body and pulled away. You looked at the door to where Andrew was and back to Sam. You began to walk away but he quickly grabbed your hand and fell to his knees.

“I need you to need me too” Your poker face expression broke out into a soft loving smile.

“I love you too, Sam. I just need to talk to Andrew. But I love you” You pulled him up and brought down his head to your level. Your eyes flickered up to Sam’s hesitant ones and you inhaled his familiar, heartwarming scent. You closed your eyes as your nose touched his cheek and you tilted your head a bit further feeling his smooth, silky, thin lips on yours. Your brain ran crazy as memories you both shared flashed in front of your closed eyes and only one thing slowed down. The day he said “I love you.”


“Y/N if you want to live then I wouldn’t do that” You pointed your gun full of water at a barely drenched Sam. The two of you were walking by a dollar store and you saw a packet of water guns which you thought was a great idea. But unfortunately even hunters know how to use fake plastic water guns. However you were at an advantage since Sam wasted all his water within minutes.

“Oh yeah? Well I guess I’m just that daring” You pushed down the trigger and water came spurting out towards your boyfriend. You were laughing so hard that you had no idea Sam was running towards you. You began to run away from him until he picked you up from the waist and spun you around. You giggled against his firm chest and he set you down on the table beside him as he towered over you.

“Admit it, you lost” you chuckled and became the stubborn person you were. You shook your head and stuck out your tongue. Sam bent down and kissed your lips as he began a heated and wet makeout session.

 You felt his hands trail up your sides until he stopped suddenly by your waist. You were confused since normally he’d explore further though you were too late to realise, he was going to tickle you.

“SAM NO” You shrieked in laughter as he chuckled above you. You were withering beneath him trying to get his dancing fingers off your body.


“OKAY FINE FINE” You were out of breath from the intense laughing session and you looked up into his eyes.

“I lost” You mumbled. Sam pecked your lips once more.

“See this is why I love you” You froze at his sudden confession and so did he. His eyes widened as he became aware of what he just did.

“I uh I mea- I love you too” You blurted out, interrupting him. You weren’t lying, you’ve felt you admiration for him was stronger than like or crushing. You’d do anything for this man, sacrifice anything, you loved him. Sam smiled and he sighed in ease.

“Thank god, that would’ve been awkward”


“Come back with us” You pulled away from him and he held your head between his hands.

“I need to talk to Andrew” You walked away from Sam and stood by the door that would decide your fate. You opened it to see Andrew sitting on the bed with two bags around him and him holding a photo of you both.

“You know I wanted to propose to you but I guess that idea’s out the window” You sat next to him on the bed and took one of his hands into yours.

“Andrew coming into this relationship with me you knew. You knew I would never love you and I’m sorry you had to waste these 5 months with me”

“I wouldnt say waste, Y/N. I had the best 5 months ever, plus the sex was great” You chuckled at his light hearted attitude.

“I packed some of your things but go. I’ll pack the rest of your things and pick them up later.” You pulled Andrew into a hug and you leaned into your bestfriend.

“Thank you so much Andrew. You deserve the world” Andrew smirked into your hair and he pulled away, missing your strawberry shampoo already.

“Hey I was your best friend once and maybe I can still be it”

“You will always be my best friend” You kissed his forehead and picked up your two bags. You walked out the door and past the kitchen that had the now cold Apple pie sitting on the table. You walked towards the two brothers whose eyes glistened when they saw your bags. Dean immediately took them off you and brought you into a side hug.

“I missed you” He kissed your temple and you missed the comfort of what you’d like to call, your spine. Without Dean, you’d be a drooling mess. You reached out for Sam’s hands and they fit so perfectly together, like it was the last piece of the puzzle.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N and I promise to love you till the day we die” Sam whispered into your ear as he lifted you up and spun you around. He set you back onto the floor and kissed you passionately, making up for the 5 months you missed.

You walked out the door you shared with your best friend and you experienced the heartbreak he was going through. Soulless Sam tried to kill you which was even more heart shattering. 

But then again, if you truly love someone then set them free. If they were meant to be truly yours then they’ll come back and if they don’t, then they were never yours. Andrew had set you free and now he sat in the room you both shared wondering if you were truly his.


Summary: Inspired by Lauren singing Dope to Camila on stage. Camila have been avoiding Lauren and decided to give her silent treatments for the past few weeks due to some misunderstanding. So, in order to get back in Camila’s good graces, Lauren decided to do something that literally shook the entire fandom.

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I just wanna say that you are my favorite rotbtd blog and I love, love, love your writing :) And, I was wondering if I could request a jackunzel AU where they use the same textbook in class, and they leave little messages in the textbook, but they don't find out who the other person leaving messages is until much later. Thank you so much and I hope you have a magical day/night. :D

Why was this class so boring.  Why did Mr. Black talk in monotone when he gave lectures.  Why was it so warm in here.  Why was it getting darker and heavier…

Jack snapped himself awake, to finding his cheek pressed against his desk.  Okay, wake up Jack, he scolded himself.  Mr. Black had already caught Jack falling asleep in class twice this week, and he knew that his snarky teacher wouldn’t hesitate to give Jack yet another detention slip.  He blinked a couple times to try and keep his energy up.  What was Black even talking about?  Something about the properties of light and dark… God, it was so boring, Jack had no idea how the other students could do it.

He stole a quick glance around the room to see if he should be taking notes or anything.  Most students had their eyes glued to their textbooks, eyes darting obediently back and forth across the pages.  Dumbstruck and confused, Jack slowly opened the book on his desk and craned his neck to left to see what page everyone was on.  He tried to read it, he really did, but every few seconds his eyes would flit to the upper right corner of the page.  In light, tentative pencil, there were intricate little swirls and flowing, abstract shapes doodled in the empty spaces.

Jack smirked to himself.  There was something really interesting about them.  And maybe it was the dullness of the lecture, but Jack found these little drawings far more interesting than whatever was going on in class.  For whatever reason, he picked up his pencil and wrote in his stick-like, scraggly handwriting “nice drawings”.  It was probably stupid, seeing as they could’ve been there for years, and maybe the person who drew them was long gone by now, but what the hell.

What he hadn’t expected to come from that thoughtless little act was a reply.

The next day they had to fill out a worksheet from that same page in their textbooks.  There Jack saw the artsy design again, and there was his messy handwriting crammed underneath it, but then there was something new under what he had written.  In elegant yet somehow bubbly handwriting, someone had written “Thanks”.  Along the side of the page the mystery artist had also added some looping vines with silvery lead leaves coming out of it.  Jack found himself beaming at the textbook page.  There was something exciting about knowing that the doodler was in another class here.  They had read that sometime yesterday, or maybe even just a few hours ago, and written something back.

Unsure of what to say in response, Jack scanned the page.  He tried to take in the information about the light spectrum, but once again, he found himself looking back to the miniature conversation in the upper right corner of the page.  Instead of saying something in response, he ended up scribbling snide little comments to all the stupid “fun facnts”.

Fun Fact: Using the right materials, you can make your own color prism!

Jack crossed out the “m” in prism and replaced it with an “o” and an “n”, then beside it wrote, “just go to this class”.  He then proceeded to include several light-related puns, including the phrase “colorific!”

Pretty soon it became like a game.  Jack would write something in the textbook, and the next day in class the mystery doodle artist would reply back, most of the time with mindless drawings off to the side.  Eventually that textbook became the only reason Jack would want to go to class.  During a particularly boring week, Jack wrote “My name is Harry Potter” on one of the pages, and to his great amusement, the doodler replied in that same elegant bubbly handwriting, “Hello Harry Potter, my name is Tom Riddle.”  And they continued to replicate the diary conversation all throughout the week.  This escalated quickly to Jack scribbling rather ugly doodles of Harry Potter trying to do chemistry with magic and utterly failing.  It turned out whoever the other textbook person was was pretty cool.  If only he could figure out who this person was…

Jack was suddenly asking every other person who was taking chemistry about who was in there class, as though one of them would arbitrarily blurt out the name of the mystery doodler.

It wasn’t until the artist accidentally left one of her worksheets in the textbook that Jack finally figured it out.

Rapunzel was grateful for the bell to ring and dismiss their French class.  She had barely understood anything that their teacher had been saying.  Clearly she needed to review her past tense conjugations.  She shoved her notebook into her floral backpack and mentally went through the all the homework she had to do tonight.

“You know it’s considered vandalism to deface school textbooks, right?”

Her green eyes snapped up to meet icy blue ones staring wryly at her.  Jack Overland.  He was in her French class, though he never really payed attention, always sat in the back doing anything but classwork.  He seemed like a nice enough guy, and truth be told Rapunzel thought he was actually really funny, whenever he blurted out those little comebacks in class.  But they had never spoken a word to each other until now.  And Jack Overland had picked a very strange combination of first words to say to her.


“You’re a really good artist.” He told her with a more genuine smile.  He pulled a paper out of his backpack and put it on her desk.  Upon closer examination, Rapunzel recognized it as the Chemistry worksheet she had finished yesterday.  “You left it in the textbook.” he explained.  

It took Rapunzel a couple seconds to put the information together, then her eyes widened in embarrassment.  “You’re the funny textbook guy?”

He nodded somewhat bashfully in a way that made Rapunzel’s stomach do an unexpected flip.  “And you’re the mystery doodler.”

She felt her cheeks redden slightly but tried to hide it.  “Wow.  That’s…that’s not what I expected.”

“Same.”  Jack replied.  Rapunzel had always thought he was sort of cute, but she just figured their paths would never really cross that much.  They were both so different.  At least, she thought they were.  But maybe she was wrong…

“Number four is wrong, by the way.”  He told her with a little smirk.  “It’s actually thirty-two megahertz.”  

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Well, look at the light spectrum master over here.”

He shrugged comedically.  “What can I say, I try not to brag.”

“Oh, of course.  Modesty is oh so important, after all.”

“Absolutely.”  Rapunzel giggled in response.  Was she actually flirting?  That was definitely something she’s never done before.  “Listen,” Jack continued.  “Since you clearly need some tutoring in the light and dark science field, maybe we could get together sometime?  I can behold all my glorious science knowledge to you.”

Rapunzel smirked back at him in this devilish way that was unfamiliar to him.  “Maybe…but only if I can give you a drawing lesson in return.  That Harry Potter sketch was pretty horrific.”

Jack put his hands up in mock surrender.  “Hey, I did my best!”

They continued to talk via textbook vandalism for the rest of the year.  Rapunzel opted to buy it by the time June rolled around because there was so much written in it that it was probably unusable at this point.  And besides, she secretly wanted to keep the hidden records of how Jack Overland became her boyfriend.