my freckles are starting to appear again

I Think I’m in Love With My Tutor  (Newt x Ravenclaw!Reader)

**Not my gif**

Request:  Heyyyy!!!! First ilysm, second, can you do a newt x ravenclaw! reader and she is forced to tutor him for his bad subjects but they end up liking each other!! FLUFFY PLZTAHNK YOU - @just-a-bit-odd

THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I’VE WRITTEN AT 1777 WORDS AND I LOVE IT TO PIECES I’M SO PROUD OF MYSELF AND I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT AS WELL


You were Y/N L/N, one of the brightest Ravenclaws at Hogwarts.  The top in all your classes and well-liked by your teachers and peers.

It was the end of your potions class.  You neatly tucked your book and quills into your bag and were on your way out the door, but your professor stopped you.

“Miss L/N?”

“Yes, professor?”

“It appears one of my Hufflepuff students has been struggling with his work.  If he fails my class, he’ll have to take it again.”

“And what do you need me for?” you questioned.

“Since you’re one of the best students, I figured you could tutor him.  I’ll gladly give you some extra credit for it, though I’m sure you don’t need it.

“Lovely.  Who is this boy?”

“Newt Scamander.”

Your mind starting racing.  Oh Merlin.  The adorable Hufflepuff with the freckles and always smells like cinnamon but no one knows why?  The one that loves nothing more than magical beasts and creatures?

“Miss L/N?”

You snapped out of your daze.  “What?  Oh–uh–yes, of course I’ll tutor him.”

“Thank you.  He tends to daydream during class.  Once he nearly dropped his baby bowtruckle… oh what’s its name… Stickett?  Kickett?  Something like that.  Starting tomorrow you will meet in the library an hour before dinner,” your professor finished.  

You nodded.  “I won’t let you down, professor.  But there is one more thing I need.”

“And what is that?”

“Could you write me a late pass?”

**Time skip to next day**

Your potions books were neatly stacked in your arms as you quickly made your way to the library.  You were very eager to see Newt, even though you were pretty sure he had never heard of you.

You are not going to make a fool out of yourself, Y/N!  You thought to yourself.

You kicked open the library door since you were holding books, which earned you a lovely “SHH!” and a stern glare from Madam Pince.  You flinched and mouthed a quick “sorry” and walked behind a bookshelf out of her sight to the table where you saw Newt sitting.  He appeared to be talking quietly to a tiny, green stick-like creature.

You set your books down, causing him to rapidly look up and the creature to scramble and bury himself in Newt’s breast pocket.

“O-oh, hello.  I didn’t see you there,” Newt said.

You smiled.  “I’m sorry I startled you and your… uh…  pet?”

Newt cocked his head and then realized what you were talking about.  “Oh!  That’s Pickett, my bowtruckle.  He has some attachment issues.”  Pickett popped his head out of Newt’s pocket at the sound of his name.  

“He’s quite adorable,” you replied, observing the bowtruckle.

The little bowtruckle made a tiny squeaking noise as to say “thank you.”

Newt smiled in the cutest, dorkiest way possible.  No one had ever complimented his creatures before.  “He likes you.”

“I would hope so,” you said.  “Now let’s get started on your studies, Newt.”

Newt all of a sudden flushed a deep shade of red.  “Uh… what if I told you I didn’t know your name…?”

You chuckled.  “No need to be embarrassed.  It’s Y/N L/N.”

“That’s very pretty…,” he whispered under his breath thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“What?  Did you say my name is pretty?”

Newt’s eyes got unbelievably large and his cheeks unbelievably pink.  “What?  Oh–uh–no!  I mean it is–but–!”

You cut him off with a giggle.  “It’s fine!  Don’t beat yourself up.”

Newt looked utterly relieved.

“So, shall we begin?”

**

You spent the next hour going over potion basics with Newt.

“Okay.  How long does it take to brew polyjuice potion?”

Newt knit his eyebrows.  “Isn’t it… ten minutes to twelve hours?” Newt answered

sounding unsure.

“Well… you’re close.  That’s how long the effects last.  To brew the actual potion takes one month,” you corrected in a kind tone.

“Sorry… potions has never been my best subject.”

“Don’t apologize.  Care of magical creatures has never been my best subject,” you said, trying to make him feel better.  “But I need to know this in order to help you learn.  Do you really just not understand potions at all or do you just not pay attention?”

Newt thought for a moment and then turned a light shade of crimson.  “I guess a bit of both…?”

Hearing this, Pickett popped out of his pocket and whacked Newt’s face with his slim, green twig-like arm before ducking back down.

“Newt.” You spoke in a stern tone.

He sighed.  “Fine!  I don’t pay attention… it’s not interesting to me.”

You nodded.  “I understand, but it’s important if you want to pass your N.E.W.T.S. and graduate.  It’d be kind of sad if you fail a test that literally has your name in it.  But that’s why I’m here, to make sure you ace it.”  You glanced at the dusty old clock on the wall.  It was time for dinner.  “Well, we ought to get going to the Great Hall.  Same time tomorrow?”

Newt nodded.  “Yes.  Thank you, Y/N.  For tutoring an idiot like me.”

“Newt!  Don’t say that to yourself.  By the time N.E.W.T.S. roll around, you’ll be a pro with potions.”

You closed your books, picked them up, and went on your way to the Great Hall.

Newt stayed seated, thinking.  When the professor told me I was being assigned a tutor, I didn’t expect it to be the lovely Ravenclaw girl that sits in front of me in Charms.  I wonder if she sees me the same way… Oh, Newton, what are you thinking?  This is just charity work.

**

The same time for the next two weeks, you met Newt in the library to read from your books and quiz Newt’s knowledge on potions.  But today you wanted more hands-on with potions.  You asked your professor if you could use the potions for what was next in your book: amortentia.  Your professor trusted you and granted you permission as long as you or Newt didn’t drink it and got rid of the extremely powerful love potion straight after.  Of course you accepted the rules; you would never use a potion to win someone’s heart.  You would hate knowing that someone loved you only because you drugged them.

The professor informed Newt of this location change during his class.

**Time skip**

You were patiently waiting in the potions room alone, standing beside a cauldron.  Originally you were going to get there early and have all the ingredients laying out and ready to be used, but you decided to leave that to Newt.  After all, he had to learn somehow.

After five minutes, Newt came stumbling through the door, panting.

“S-so sorry I’m late,” he panted.  “There was a–uh–incident, in the forest.”

You chuckled at how cute he looked.  “No worries.  Anywho, today I’ll be teaching you about amortentia.  You know what that is, right?”

He nodded.  “An extremely powerful love potion.”

You smiled.  “Correct.  Are you familiar with the ingredients?”

“Uh… I think I know two.  Ashwinder eggs and… peppermint?”

“You’re right.”  Newt grinned when he heard this.  “The others are rose thorns, powdered moonstone, and a pearl dust.  Now, would you please get them from the shelves?”  

Being a wizard and all, Newt whipped out his wand and accio-ed all the ingredients to him which he then placed on the table in a neat, orderly line.

You clapped your hands together.  “Wonderful!”  You grabbed one of your potions books and flipped the amortentia page and lay it out for Newt to see.  “I’m not going to help you brew it.”  

Newt’s face dropped a bit.

“However, I will let you know if you’re doing something wrong that could result in the deaths of both of us.  Got it?”

“Y-yes,” Newt answered, tad worried.

“Then go ahead get started.”

Surprisingly (but not so surprisingly since you’re the best tutor ever), Newt did everything right.  The amount of each ingredient was correct, and he stirred them in the correct way, counterclockwise.  Once he was finished, the potion was shiny and steam lifted in a spiral shape.

Newt set the ladle down.  “Did I do it right?”

You nodded and smiled.  “Perfectly!”  You leaned over the cauldron and inhales it’s scent.  “Hmm… F/S, F/S, and… huh… I can’t make out that last one… What does it smell like to you?”

Newt sniffed the potion.  “Clean wool, cocoa… and…,”  His eyes got large.

You looked at Newt with concern.  “Is something wrong?  What is it?”

Newt turned his gaze to the floor.  “Your hair…,” he whispered, nearly inaudible.

You blushed.  “It smells like my hair?” you said quietly.  Your mind was racing.  MERLIN I’m something he loves!!!

“Yes…” Newt replied just as quiet as last time.

You gently put a finger under his chin and tilted it up to look you in the eyes.  “That’s okay… because my third smell was your hair.”

Newt blushed immensely.  Pickett suddenly appeared out of his pocket and squeaked.  

What happened next was something you’d never thought Newt Scamander would do in a million years.  

Newt quickly leaned in and kissed you.  It only lasted a second before he pulled away to

look at you in complete silence.  But then you grabbed his collar and pulled him in for another kiss, this one longer and full of passion.  Newt’s hands feebly found there way to your waist (aw he’s such a cute muffin) while yours tangled themselves in his light brown curls.

When you had to pull away for air, you were all smiles.

“Y/N, you probably already realized this but… I love you,” Newt said.

“You should have seen me when I was told I was going to get to tutor you… I love you too, Newt.”

Pickett popped out again and made a mad squeaking noise.

You giggled.  “You too, Pickett.”

Newt looked at the clock.  “We’re five minutes late for dinner, we should get going.  I assume tomorrow’s session will be more… interesting?”

You raised your eyebrows and laughed.  “Wow, Newt.  And I thought you were innocent!  You go ahead to the Great Hall, I need to get rid of this amortentia.”

Instead of walking out the door, Newt came around behind you and wrapped his arms around you tightly, resting his chin on your head.  “I’m not leaving without you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet.”

“And the Slytherins said I could never get a girlfriend,” he said and kissed your head.

You leaned back into his embrace.“Well, we’ll show them, won’t we?”

“Am I allowed to carry you to the Great Hall?”


AHH I hope you enjoyed it just as much as I do!  Please let me know what you thought of it!

Tears Are What Makes You Human

I’m the one they tell stories about.

Never more than a hushed voice, or a hurried whisper in passing, but I know. In my classes I always have at least one spot open on either side of me. In line at the cafeteria the older students look back to make sure they aren’t taking the last thing they think I might want. I know no one’s birth name, not even those I might consider a friend.

I know exactly when the change was too, in how my fellow students view me.

My dormmate had disappeared for a night before returning, pupils a little too slitted to not be like Them, but who was I to say anything? The change was not unusual at campus, and Hay had been more depressed than before anyway. Staying out late, carrying more candy than iron or salt.

No one said art majors weren’t already a little Lost.

We had never really gotten along greatly, but he had been a grounding presence for me, an easy source of chatter to draw me out of the math calculations that consumed me. I don’t know why I chose Elsewhere U as my university, seeing as I had planned on being a civil engineer, but I had been drawn into the beauty of it when I toured the campus. Our group of 15 had returned as a group of 16, but details.

After Not Hay had taken over, I noticed small things. Batteries missing from my calculators, thrown in the waste bin and covered with crumpled papers. All the fruit gone from our shared mini fridge, replaced with food that looked a little too ripe for the season. I started eating at the cafeteria more often after that. My side of the room was always left untouched, but I still left more ramen seasoning packets under my pillow and in my dresser. July had told me it was better to be safe than sorry, words that campus lived by.

Not Hay would try and help me with my homework sometimes in exchange for me playing a small tune my Nana had taught me on a fiddle that had been passed through generations, but they weren’t much help. I always told them I appreciated the effort though, a small nod of my head that could be interpreted as a bow.

But that’s not why I’m the one they tell stories about.

The finals for the first semester of the year had creeped up on me, resulting in many nights staying awake on at my desk fueled by nothing but energy drinks and cafe mochas as I worked on advanced quantum physics questions. I had just wanted to build bridges, not understand how the universe worked on a quark scale. I could tell I was upsetting Not Hay by the icy looks I felt on my back. Not that Not Hay slept.

I don’t remember how long I was in the library before, or how I got so far back in between the shelves of books whose names I couldn’t pronounce, but I had found a desk and an outlet, and honestly what more did a university student need as they crammed for their final that was worth 75% of their grade.

I had been working over the same problem for over an hour, several steps needed to find the final value but I was stuck on the very first one. I could have been muttering to myself, or maybe They had just sensed my panic. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in several days, even if I had seen Not Hay most of the time. Not Hay never seemed to speak while I was in the room, something I had been thankful for at the time.

“Are you alright?”

The voice had started me so badly I had marked up my paper with a twitch of my pen. I remember trying to find my voice, knowing it was rude to leave a question unanswered. The girl in front of me seemed to take my silence as an answer anyway. She had looked over my station of worn down pencils, crumpled up papers, and my long empty coffee mug I had taken to stabbing in distracted worry, intelligent eyes scanning my notes before looking at me again. Her freckles reminded me of constellations, the way they appeared and disappeared across her pale skin like stars.

“Are you happy?”

Her voice seemed to come from behind me, even as I was facing her. Looking back, she could have been trying to get me to make a deal with her, but at the time all I could do was cry. No one had asked me if I was happy for years, my family pushing me to follow the lineage of engineers before me and my classmates too caught up in their own studies to notice.

I didn’t answer again, instead letting my head fall to the desk as I sobbed. A cold hand was placed on the crown of my head cautiously. That was all the invitation I had needed before I had thrown myself at the girl and sobbed in her arms.

I missed my final.

Not that it would have mattered.

I had cried myself to sleep, for once not dreaming of failing out of school, but instead of a tall and spindly creature with hair as fine as spun silver and eyes as white as snow. They soothed me, the same voice as the girl from before ringing through my ears. When I woke up I was much closer to the entrance of the library than I had been before, my textbook and notebooks stacked neatly and my coffee cup gone.

I looked at my notes, unable to read anything.

I don’t know if it had been a curse for dirtying Their clothes with my tears, or a pitied gift meant to free me in exchange for my tears, but either way I grew to be grateful for it.

I switched majors after a brief conversation with a guidance counselor. I could still do everything up to basic calculus, and so decided I’d look at teaching careers instead. I had always liked children, and the small town at the bottom of the hill had opened a new primary school suddenly.

But that’s not why I am the one they tell stories about.

They tell stories about me because I had been given the Sight when the Fair One had taken my ability to cry.

I have been having lovely conversations with Not Hay lately. About riddles and dances, all smiles and twisted words as students hurry by us, pretending not to hear the hiss in our voices.

[x]

i had this friend. loud, vivacious, and brimming with energy and colour. her sun-bright smile drew others to her like moths to flame; and yet she could always pick me out from the crowd effortlessly. i wondered how she did that, why she’d pick me over many. 

she was the kind of person you could never look away from for long, but i saw her better from my peripherals. when she lifted her chin, her face would become awash with glowing light; and then she’d laugh about her pale skin, and the ruddy cheeks and dark freckles would appear again, as if they’d momentarily blanked out. when she grew protective, her blue eyes would spark dangerously and burn white; and then she’d blink, and the glint of her glasses would stand in with explanation. 

but i saw her best from the back. when she’d run, her fire-bright curls would flare out behind her like wings.

as flighty as she was, she always came back to me. i wondered why. 

she told me, once. 

one day, before class had started, when i was in the middle of falling asleep in the sunbeam warming my desk, she turned around in her seat to talk to me. she spoke with her whole body, from her waving hands to her bouncing shoulders. 

then she petered off, and settled into stillness. watchfulness. despite all the eyes on her, she only saw me. 

“hey,” she said. “could you look at me for a sec?” 

and when i lifted my head to look at her straight on, she smiled as if she’d found the answer. 

“look at that,” she murmured. “your eyes have halos in them too.” 

anonymous asked:

Can you tell us about yourself?

Jesus, coffee, and fresh flowers are some of my favorite things. I want to garden, build a table by hand, try my hand at pottery again, and start running again. I hope someday to have a retreat center where people come to reconnect, recharge, and refresh. I love baking bread, driving really fast (only when I’m driving solo), and starting my day with reading my Bible. I want to live closer to a farmer’s market, and adopt a couple if dogs. I want to one day buy a motorcycle (and a Jeep Wrangler). I have freckles that appear on my shoulders each summer from the sunshine.