what do you do with a bottle of ink

Dating Newt Scamander Would Include...

Originally posted by ameliawilliams

I felt like I needed to get something up today so here is my own “Dating Newt Scamander Would Include” thing 

Warning:  I’m 80% sure these suck


  • Him being the little spoon
  • You being the little spoon when Newt needs a ‘teddy bear’
  • Newt being a surprisingly good cook
  • You becoming the fathers to Newt’s creatures because he had already deemed himself the mummy
  • You teasing Newt for it
  • Newt’s older brother Theseus flirting with you and making Newt insecure
  • You French kissing Newt and letting him know he’s the only man for you
  • Your parents being a bit concerned with all the creatures at first
  • But soon see how much you and Newt love each other
  • Them treating Newt like a son
  • Newt’s parents being thrilled their son had found someone
  • Them being two of the nicest people you have ever met
  • Baby pictures and funny stories of little Newt
  • “Aww you were so cute!”
  • “Am I not cute anymore???” (He was genuinely concerned)
  • “More like sexy.”
  • That really turning Newt on
  • Newt having a habit of hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of doing something
  • “Newwwt!  My bottle of ink!”
  • “The glass!”
  • “Ouch!  I burned myself on the stove!”
  • “My book!”
  • But you secretly love it when he does that
  • You two spending hours cuddling and enjoying each others company
  • You stealing Newt’s blue coat when you’re cold
  • One time you spent an hour staring at Newt trying to determine if his eyes were blue or green
  • “What on Earth are you doing?”
  • “Trying to figure out if your eyes are sea foam green or cerulean.”
  • “…”
  • You having Newt read new parts of his book to you in bed every night
  • “NEWTON!  THE NIFFLER STOLE MY FAVORITE NECKLACE AGAIN!”
  • You and Newt honestly being the cutest couple in New York
  • Newt growing really fond of the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair
  • Newt taking you on all his trips with him because one time he left without you and realized that he literally couldn’t survive without you
  • Newt giving you forehead kisses
  • Even if you’re just passing each other in a hallway
  • Having to levitate Newt out of the case when he falls asleep down there
  • The Niffler occasionally escaping from the case and trying to snuggle in bed with you both
  • Newt getting protective
  • “You little bugger!  Have to take everything golden from me, don’t you?”
  • Blushing when he calls you ‘golden’
  • Hugs can last anywhere from five seconds to five minutes
  • Asking Newt why you can’t have a dog but can have potentially lethal beasts in the house
  • “Dogs are a lot of work.”
  • “Newt.” *points around to all the creatures and beasts*
  • “Oh.  Uh.”
  • Newt eventually giving in and lets you get a dog
  • You name him Jacob

Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!

Tattooed Heart

Characters: tom holland x reader

Concept: tom as a tattoo artist… or is he?

Notes: I really loved writing this and even started plotting of what will happen next because it became something that has a potential of becoming an official fanfic but… who knows. Tom in this imagine is still Tom but he is not an actor, his character is different but his personality is still the same (if that makes any sense?) 

Please tell me what you think as this is one imagine I’m really proud of writing, especially in only just a day.

Song: As You Are - The Weeknd

P.S.: I’ll be making a masterlist soon, so keep an eye out for that!

———————————————————————————-

“You’re done.”

“Bullshit,” you reply.

“We’re closing already, miss,” the bartender tells you as he takes away your unfinished bottle.

“I’m not even halfway drunk yet,” you whine but pull out your wallet and hand him a tip anyway. “Thanks.”

You hop down from the stool and notice that only you and a couple of other people being dragged outside are left in the bar. You take out your phone to let your friend know you are on your way home as you make your way to the exit.

The air is cool and comforting but it does nothing to cease the pain that you wished to drown out with alcohol. You hail a taxi and get inside, announcing your address to the driver as you sit back.

Your plan to lose yourself had failed tonight and now you’re left to deal with your misery. You were never the type to hate anyone but you hate the one guy you thought you trusted the most.

Fuck him.

No, you know what? Fuck anyone who has ever cheated.

At this thought, your throat constricts and you start to feel the tears start to form behind your eyes. You blink rapidly to try to keep them from falling but fail. You wipe them off right away and start hating yourself for not being able to get yourself drunk enough to forget.

You needed at least one night, one moment, where your head and heart aren’t fully invested in the pain that you’ve suffered for the past hours. You needed a distraction, something-

And then you see it…

“Stop the car!”

The taxi skids to a stop and a flustered driver turns to you, completely shaken up. You reach into your wallet and hand him a couple of bills before you step out of the vehicle. You stand on the wet sidewalk, in front of a small building with neon signs declaring it as a tattoo shop.

You incline your head to try to get a look inside through the window but see nothing. Is it even open?

You start to have second thoughts but the taxi has already left and you really don’t want to be out in the streets alone. You walk forward and pull on the door which swings towards you easily. You step inside and soft rock music is playing from somewhere farther down. The walls are painted red, furniture and decor compliment them in black. Leather chairs sit at one end of the floor, below a huge wall plastered with nothing but pictures and designs of tattoos.

You step closer to the wall and start to admire one tattoo that looks like a dragon being born from a rose. The colors, the details from the veins of the flower’s petals to the scales of the dragon, have you wondering if you didn’t accidentally step into a museum.

“What do you have in mind?”

“What the fu-!” You jump as your hand flies to your chest to somehow calm your now frantic heart. You turn slowly and a guy is leaning on the clear, glass counter that sits in the middle of the room; separating the waiting area to the rest of the shop.

The guy seems to be in his twenties, although his face has a certain boyish look to it. He’s definitely attractive, you have no doubt about that. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a black v-neck underneath. Usually, you would run away from someone so good looking but the bit of alcohol you drank gives you little confidence enough to stay.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles and it’s then that you notice his english accent.

He has an accent, for fuck’s sakes!

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” you turn to look at the wall of tattoos again. “I actually don’t know what I want to get.”

“You like Rosy?” He says and you look to see him walk around the counter and make his way to stand next to you.

His fragrance hits your nostrils and you have to refrain from moaning. He smells exactly how a man should smell; husky and sexy at the same time.

“Who’s Rosy?” You ask, your voice wavering a little.

He points at the design of the dragon and the rose. “Get it? She was born from a rose.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I get it. It’s beautiful.”

You feel him glance at you as you stare at the design. Your cheeks burn from the intense attention he’s giving you.

“What brings you here?” He asks.

You shake your head and shrug. “Needed to get away-”

“-from reality,” he finishes for you.

You look at him and nod, smiling. “I bet you get a lot of those around here, huh?”

This time, he’s the one who shrugs. “I get a lot of stories. It’s one of the reasons I love the job.”

“So these are all your designs?” You ask, pointing at the wall. He nods and says nothing more. “Then why is it so empty?”

You both look around the room. Then he starts to chuckle, “I barely opened a few minutes ago, love. It doesn’t get crazy until much later.”

He called you ‘love’.

“Do you have an idea of what you want to get?”

“Yes. The word ‘DUMBASS’ on my forehead, please?”

“Sure, follow me,” he simply replies.

Your eyes go wide as they watch him start walking towards the back. “Hey, wait! I wasn’t actually being serious!”

“You weren’t?” He continues walking, forcing you to follow him anyway.

“I don’t want that as my first tattoo!” You insist.

“Then why are you following me?” He turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised and a smirk playing at his lips.

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips and you realize that it’s the first genuine smile you’ve had since you found out-

“Take a seat,” he tells you once he leads you into a vast room. A black leather chair sits in the middle of the room, the kind of chair that dentists have in their office.

You sit down and watch as he walks around the room, picking up instruments and small bottles of colored ink.

“I haven’t even told you what I want,” you tell him as your nerves start to take over.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his back facing you as he fumbles with something.

“I don’t really think I have enough trust to give out to anybody anymore,” you sigh. “Especially to someone I don’t even know.”

He pauses what he’s doing and doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You try to remember if you said anything that might have caused him to be offended. He then starts to remove his jacket and places it on the counter. Even from here you can tell he’s toned underneath his shirt and his exposed arms confirm it. He turns around slowly and takes a seat on the individual chair set up next to the one you’re sitting in.

“I’m Tom,” he says and reaches out with his hand.

You stare at his hand and then at him and then back down to his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you reply and slide your hand into his. It’s unexpectedly warm but smooth and he seems to hold your own hand for a while before he lets go.

“We know each other now, don’t we? Will you trust me?”

“It’s not that simple…” you start and he gives you a small smile.

“Will you let me tattoo you?” And the way he asks that question, the softness of his voice and the way his eyes stay glued on yours, makes you feel like that’s not really the question he wanted to ask. “I already have some things in mind… I can put one here,” he touches the inside of your wrist, “or here.” He slides his fingers up your arm until they reach the crease of your elbow, your whole arm erupting into goosebumps. He notices and glances quickly up at you before he continues, “A lot of people get small ones here,” he tells you and he’s leaning forward now. He pushes your hair back behind your shoulder and then touches your neck, just below your ear. His proximity and that intoxicating smell of his has you almost swooning.

“Will it hurt?” You ask breathlessly.

He’s so close to your face and he doesn’t seem to want to retreat anytime soon and it’s starting to make you feel lightheaded.

“It’s less painful than being heartbroken,” he states and finally sits back. He grabs the small gun where he attaches a black ink bottle.

You’re staring at him, completely shocked at what just came out of his mouth. “How- how did you know?”

“Your eyes,” he states as he squirts some ink onto a tray until the ink comes out. He glances up at you before taking your hand and pulling it towards him. He places your arm on the armrest of the chair and turns it so that your palm is facing up. “Do you trust me?”

Here’s this guy you barely met, with an tattoo gun in his hand, ready to permanently draw on your skin. Just a few hours ago, you swore to never trust any guy again.

“I trust you,” you murmur and you’re surprised when your words don’t carry regret in them.

He grins, “Good. You can’t look until I’m finished, though.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in the chair anyway. You hear the buzz of the gun as he powers it on and your heart stops. He senses your tension and you feel his hand lay on top of yours. You grip it tightly.

“Relax, love. I got you,” he says softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out and then feel the needle penetrate your skin. Again and again and again. Repeatedly.

“Who’s the asshole?” Tom asks as he continues to work and hold your hand.

“My boyf- my ex-boyfriend,” you reply and your thoughts drift to that moment you walked in on him in bed with someone else.

Tom was right. The needle poking your skin over and over is nothing compared to the ache you feel in your chest.

“What a dumbass,” is all Tom says but it makes you smile.

“How come you don’t have any tattoos?” You ask him as you recall not seeing any on him.

He stops tattooing you and then his face appears in your line of vision. “How do you know I don’t have any that you can’t see?” He smirks a playful smirk before disappearing once again and continuing your tattoo.

“When you’re done, can I see them?” You don’t even know what made you ask that but you were curious.

He doesn’t respond right away. “I’ll think about it.”

You continue to have small conversation and you learn that he dropped out of art school to pursue the dream of being a tattoo artist. He tells you that even though he doesn’t earn as much as a heart surgeon, creating art on someone’s body is much more satisfying.

The thoughts of your ex cheating on you completely disappear as you listen to his stories and he listens to yours. The hole in your chest is still there but the needle Tom uses to ink your skin seems to help ease the feeling.

“Almost done,” he tells you as he swipes your wrist with a damp towel several times. “I think that’s it. Ready to see it?”

You sit up straight and he lets go of your hand. He watches you as you look down at your wrist; where your skin used to be vacant, it is now embellished with a beautiful flower. Small dots decorated its shadows and all around it, creating depth. Blue ink outlined its petals while pink ink colored them in.

“Wow,” you breathe out. “What kind of flower is it?”

“A lotus flower,” he tells you. “They say that lotus flowers bloom no matter the bad or good weather. It made me think of you. Beautiful, no matter the situation you’re going through.”

At this, you look up at him and he’s staring at you so intently, it feels like your whole body is on fire.

“Now it’s your turn,” you tell him.

He chuckles as he stands up and walks towards a cabinet where he takes out some materials. “My turn for what? You’re going to tattoo me?”

“No, why would I scar you like that? Show me your tattoos!”

He sits back down next to you and pulls your arm towards him once again. He starts to bandage your wrist, placing a clear cover over your tattoo and taping it down. He then stands up and with his eyes glued to yours, he reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your jaw probably hits the floor because the sight in front of you is absolutely mesmerizing. His abs stand out immediately and everywhere your eyes roam, there is nothing but muscle and firmness.

“I just have a quote on my shoulder,” he points out to you.

“Well I can’t see it from down here,” you say and stand up. He’s still a little too tall for you to tell what it says. “Sit,” you order and he gives you a smirk before he sits on the chair.

You stand behind him and look at the lettering that spell out words you cannot comprehend. “What does it say?”

“Try to sound it out,” he replies.

Non accipiet sed facilisis,” you say slowly.

He suddenly stands up and faces you. He towers a bit over you and the fact that he’s half naked makes you feel a bit intimidated. He’s grinning sweetly down at you as he speaks, “It means ‘take it easy but take it’ in Latin.”

“Why did you want me to sound it out?” Your voice comes out shakily.

“I wanted to hear it said in your voice. It sounded better than I expected.” He’s standing so close, his body heat can be felt even through the layers of your own clothing. “Did it help?”

“Did what help?”

“Getting your first tattoo to help you forget about your ex?”

“That,” you can’t help but smirk, “and some other things.”

“Hmm.” His lifts his hand and uses his fingers to push your hair back behind your ear. He continues his path down to your neck and then up to hold your chin. “Would you let me tattoo you again?”

His eyes stare straight at your lips and you know exactly what’s going to happen next. You can hear your own heart beating so fast, you think that maybe you’ve gone deaf.

“At this point, I’ll let you tattoo anything anywhere you want,” you whisper.

He smirks. “Good girl,” and then he’s leaning down, slowly, and you close your eyes and-

“TOM! YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

The shouts come from outside the room and you take a step back, completely startled.

“Fuck,” Tom spits out and then puts his shirt back on. He shoots you an apologetic look, “I’ll be right back, just stay here, okay?”

“Are you sure? I can go-”

“No. Please, stay,” he holds his hand up to stop you. “Just wait for me here.” He turns towards the door but before he steps out, he looks over his shoulder, “Trust me?”

“I do,” you respond immediately, and it’s true, you do trust him for some reason.

He opens the door and closes it after him but your curious self walks towards it and you press your ear against the door.

Their voices sound muffled but you can tell that the one who shouted is pissed. Is it an angry customer? Maybe you should call the police in case things got physical.

Before you make any hasty decisions, you decide to make sure Tom actually has everything handled. You turn the doorknob slowly and open the door and their voices finally are clear enough to understand.

“- respect you enough to know that sometimes you can’t stop shit from happening but this came from one of your guys, Tom. This is business we’re talking about.”

Tom’s back is facing you and you can barely make out the face of the booming voice yelling at Tom. “I know what the fuck we’re talking about, Dave. I’ll get Luke to sort it out and I’ll have your money ready by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Mean Man shoves a pudgy finger in Tom’s chest before he his eyes find you. His round face relaxes but it turns quickly into a sneaky stare. “Having yourself a little snack before the drop, I see.”

Tom follows his eyesight and his eyes almost bulge out of his sockets when he sees you staring. He turns away and points at the door, “Fuck off, Dave. We’re done here.”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Dave sneers at Tom and then speaks at you. “Ask Tom for my number if he doesn’t, uh,” he chuckles, “satisfy you.”

“Fuck you,” you reply.

Dave didn’t expect that at all and he’s rendered speechless. Tom laughs and shakes his head, “I think the lady’s said enough. Now get the fuck out of my shop.”

“Tomorrow, british boy.” And with that, Dave leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Tom goes to the door and locks it. He places his palms against it, his head hanging down between his shoulders. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” you tell him and step forward slowly.

He lifts his head but stays in the same position. He finds you standing behind the counter but says nothing. “You have some balls to be able to talk to Dave that way.”

“I think there was something in that ink you tattooed on me,” you say, showing him your wrist.

This earns you a soft laugh from him. He finally drops his arms and sighs. He walks in your direction and stands across from you, on the other side of the counter. You both say nothing for a while, just gazing at each other’s faces.

You’re not sure if you have feelings for someone you barely know- well, someone you thought you barely knew. Now you’re not even sure who he is. This dark, secret side of him somehow makes you want to know more about him and you don’t know why.

“You don’t want to get involved with me, y/n,” he whispers to you and there’s a sort of sadness in his stare.

It’s also the first time he’s said your name and you wish you could’ve recorded it just to hear it over and over again. A lullaby.

“Why not?” You ask.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Somehow, I do,” you reply genuinely.

“Then trust me when I say that I’m no good for you,” he states.

You bite your lip as you feel the hole in your chest start to open up again. Why is this guy making you feel this way?

“Okay,” you force yourself to say. Maybe this is the right thing to do. Right?

“What?” He seems surprised.

“Fine, I won’t get involved with you,” you say, sounding pissed off. You make sure you have everything you need, avoiding his eyes and make your way around the counter. You feel slightly disappointed and you hate that you do because after everything that’s happened, you really didn’t want to get involved with a guy any time soon.

But Tom…

“You’re unbelievable,” he says and you turn to talk back but are completely taken by surprise when Tom’s hands are on either side of your face and his lips crashes on yours. The impact of his body on yours sends you tumbling back until your back hits the wall. His mouth is unforgiving; completely taking control in the way his lips move around yours.

Your hands fist around his shirt, pulling him closer. He pushes himself on you and you can’t help the small moan that escapes from the back of your throat and loses itself into his mouth.

The kiss is too passionate, making your head swoon, but you don’t mind; it’s a high you can never get enough of. After a few minutes, he lets go of your lips but leans his forehead against yours. You’re both completely breathless and you lick your lips, trying to get any taste of him that you can.

You open your eyes but his remain closed. You tilt your head slightly so that the tip of your nose rubs his and he grins. He finally opens his eyes and looks so deeply into yours, your knees turn weak. He leans forward and pecks your lips softly, over and over again, making you giggle softly.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask in between the kisses.

“For?”

“The tattoo,” you reply.

“This is enough,” he breathes out.

You both smile into your next kiss and you continue to kiss until you can no longer think straight.

Even though you could stay there forever if you wanted to, you place your hand on his chest to push him back. “As fun as this is, I gotta go. My friend might be worried.”

“Understandable. When will I see you again?” He isn’t as close as he was a few seconds ago but he remains close enough so that his hand is against the wall above your head.

“Uh, I need to come back here every now and then so you can check that it’s healing properly, right?” You ask, lifting your bandaged wrist.

He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s required. Here,” he pushes off the wall and goes to the counter and comes back to you. He hands you a small card, “Here’s my number in case if you have any questions or an… emergency.”

He has on a sly smirk that makes you believe the word ‘emergency’ has a different inuendo to it.

“Will do,” you reply and turn towards the exit.

“Did it help?” You hear him ask behind you.

You turn your head and nod, “Yep, most definitely.”

Last Week Tonight

An 8th year Hogwarts story set in 2017


“Malfoy’s at it again.” Ron fell down in his favorite armchair in the eight year common room with a tired yawn, before sending an accusing glare at Harry.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Harry threw his hands up and with that accidentally knocked his ink bottle over. He cursed loudly.

“Well then why is he constantly fucking laughing every time I wake up? He only started doing that since you began dating him.” Ron glared at Harry again, though a little less intense so as Hermione crawled on his lap with two cups of tea.

“Well that’s still not my fault. I told you we don’t sleep together, and besides even if we did he wouldn’t be laughing about it.” Ron pulled a disgusted face as he eyed Harry’s smug grin.

“Harry,” Hermione cut in before they could start arguing even more, “why don’t you go check out why he’s laughing? That seems more like your task then Ronald’s anyway.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed defeated, though he didn’t actually mind. Draco looked adorable when he laughed and he’d been dying to find out where Ron had been complaining about ever since the ginger man started whining about Draco’s laughter. “Though I still don’t get why you don’t just go check yourself if it’s so annoying.”

Ron sputtered with a bright red face, and Harry didn’t need to know what he tried to say as it was more than obvious by now. He wanted to pester Ron with it just a bit more but decided that it wasn’t worth it as Hermione mouthed that he had to go now.


“Draco? Draco what are you doing in there?” With more than a little caution Harry pulled the curtain away, again regretting that he hadn’t switched with Ron at the start of the year. Now he was stuck with the shenanigans of Dean and Seamus while Ron was stuck with most of the snakes, but now that he and Draco were dating Minerva refused to let them switch.

Suddenly an arm reached out to grab him and pull him onto the bed.

“You have got to see this Harry it is the most hilarious thing ever.” Harry was nothing short of flabbergasted as his eyes went from Draco’s face, covered in laughing induced tears, and the muggle television that hung on the other side on the bed. The image on it was frozen and showed a middle aged man in a suit behind a desk, with an image on an orange guy next to him. The words above it read Donald Trump, President of the USA.

“Is that a muggle TV?”

“Yeah of course it is,” Draco seemed puzzled by Harry’s surprise, “this is Last Week Tonight by John Oliver. It’s amazing to see how those muggles fucked up.” To underline his words Draco wiped away one of his laughter tears. Then he pulled Harry closer and dragged part of the duvet over him.

“Excuse me but how did you get a working muggle TV in here?” Harry was still looking between the TV and Draco, not understanding a single aspect of what was happening.

“Oh Millicent installed it for me, her father is a muggle technician. And we got the wifi up at the start of the year already but it has only been up and running here since last week.”

Draco looked at Harry. “What? I was supposed to start liking muggles now wasn’t I? The internet is the easiest way of doing that.”

“I… I…” Harr stammered. It was all a bit much on the early morning. He glanced at the TV one more time before settling his gaze on Draco. “I am so confused right now.”

Draco snorted, but gave him a sympathetic smile as he noticed that Harry did not see the humour in the situation. Then he ruffled Harry’s hair and pulled his face into the crook of his neck. “I’ll explain it later, but I’d like to finish the episode first okay?”

“Sure,” answered Harry weakly, pressing his face deeper into Draco’s deliciously soft hair. Yet another thing he did not understand. How could hair be that soft?

Life was weird.


Check out the show Last week tonight here (please do it’s hilarious and inspired me to write this)

George Weasley x reader Yule Ball

Pairing: George x reader

Warnings: Nah. It’s just fluff

A/N: Hey guys! This is my very first fanfic, hope you guys like it. The fanfic takes place in The Goblet of Fire and feel free to request. For now, I’m only going to accept Fred and George requests. Make sure to vote and requests are open! :^) 


My breath hitched.

My heart beat faster.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.

There I saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen; The woman I’ve been madly in love with.

(Y/N) was a girl from my year. A girl that I find myself slowly falling for whenever I see a glimpse of her beauty and when I started getting to know who she really is. (Y/N) was sorted into Ravenclaw in our 1st year whilst I was sorted into Gryffindor. At first, I didn’t really care about it because I used to think of her as just another student in Hogwarts when in reality she’s more than that. The day I first talked to her was in the library when I decided to sit next to her whilst she was doing her homework in Transfiguration whilst I do mine. Whilst I was doing my homework, I accidentally nudged the bottle of ink which spilled black ink on her paper. 

“Oh crap! I’m so so sorry” I apologized picking up the bottle and trying my best to stop the ink from going to her parchment paper but, I made it worse.

She sighed. Frustration and anger showed on her face. She looks like she will punch me in the face any second for what I just did.

“I’m very very so-” 

“It’s fine. Just be more careful if you don’t want me to punch you” she said making me chuckle.

“I’m George Weasley” 

“I know. You’re the other half of the Weasley twins famous for your pranks”

“How’d you know? So what do you think about our pranks?” I said. A smirk growing on my face.

“Well, obviously I’ve seen some of your pranks and I can overhear girls blabber on how great you and Fred are and how you guys were a hot piece of meat.” she replied rolling her eyes at the last sentence. “oh and the pranks? I’d say I’m impressed about how you guys could think of such ridiculous pranks and manage to not get caught” she added.

“Right they are,” I said winking making her roll her eyes and laugh.

“What? Don’t you agree with them Ms? what’s your name?” I said.

“My name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and no, I don’t agree with them” she replied smiling a bit. 

We then continued our conversation; talking about our lives, interests, and sharing lots of banter. This soon develops a close friendship between us despite our differences.

Days, weeks, months, years, have passed. I started to feel something different when I’m with her. My heart beats faster when I stare deep in her (Y/E/C) orbs or by just simply glancing at her. The atmosphere changes whenever we talk to each other–feeling like it’s only the two of us in the room. The sadness I feel whenever she doesn’t go to our meeting spot in the library. 

That’s when I realize

That I’m head over heels for (Y/N).

I fell in love with her personality, her beauty, and her imperfections. Everything about her just seems perfect.


Now fast forward to the present.


The day of our Yule Ball.

I still can’t believe though that I had the balls to ask her out. Although I did say that I’ll only go with her as “friends” since I fear that she finds out I like her and that will ruin our friendship. 

She did say yes so the nervousness kind of lessened. My thoughts were cut off when my eyes laid on a particular person.

My breath hitched.

My heart beat faster.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.

There I saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen; The woman I’ve been madly in love with. 

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) entered the room. Slowly capturing lots of people’s attention. Men’s eyes were widened and shocked by her beauty whilst some women gave glares and some gave her compliments as she replies a simple nod or a thank you to each of them.

bloody hell, she’s breathtaking. 

As she started walking near me, my eyes locked with hers.

Finally, she stands in front of me with a smile plastered on her face.

Today she looked different–in a good way.

She was wearing a blue, off-shoulder ball gown to represent her house color. She wore light makeup and ditched her eyeglasses. Her (Y/H/L) (Y/H/C) was styled into a fancy bun. A few strands were left. (sorry if you have short hair)

“hey,” she said breaking me in my trance.

“why hello m’lady,” I said trying to sound confident as possible to hide my nervousness.

“hello handsome,” she said with the same confidence.

“s-so u-uh want a  d-drink?” I said with my confidence crumbling into pieces.

“Is the George Weasley stuttering? Wow. First time to ever hear you like that” she said chuckling. 

“Oh shut up” I replied laughing as I started to feel my cheeks heat up.

“Sure. I’d love something to drink” she said.

I walked away and when I started blending in the crowd, my speed gradually increased and finally arrived at the table filled with food. I poured wine to two glasses then I felt a weight on my shoulder causing some of the wine to spill.

“Georgie! A beautiful date you got there. Finally got the balls to ask her out, eh?” Fred said

“Oh shut up. I asked her out as ‘friends’” I replied.

Fred groaned and said 

“Merlin’s beard George! You have got to ask her out on an ‘actual’ date before someone does. With that beauty and personality, I’m pretty sure a lot of men are willing to ask her out someday if you won’t ask her” 

Fred’s right. Just when I left grabbing a drink I saw a guy from Durmstrang flirting with her. I felt a sudden wave of pain when I saw this. I’ve always hated that feeling–the jealousy and pain I feel whenever I see her chat with boys and even sometimes she’s oblivious when the guy he’s talking to flirt with her. 

“You’re right, Freddie” I sighed.

“Now don’t just stand here like a wuss! Stop wussing out! Go and get her, Georgie!” Fred said pushing me lightly. 

“Alright, alright, I will,” I said and went back to (Y/N).

I went to her and spotted her by herself. I rushed to her and gave her the glass of wine. She thanked me and took a sip.

The ceremony soon started and soon enough we all started dancing to the music with our partners. The music finally ended and was replaced by a slower one. 

I placed both of my hands on her hips whilst her hands moved to my shoulders. Her touch lingering, sending shivers down my spine and making my heart beat faster. Our foreheads touched as we slowly sway to the music. 

“Had fun tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. 

We continue to dance in an uncomfortable silence.

“Come with me,” I said breaking the ice. 

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me” I repeated.

“To where?”

“Somewhere else,” I said and offered her my hand.

She took it and we both leave the room.

We both ran down the halls of Hogwarts with (Y/N) following behind.

“George slow down! It’s not easy to run with heels you know!” (Y/N) panted.

“Sorry!” I said slowing down my pace.

We then finally arrived at our destination: The Astronomy Tower.

I heard a gasp behind me so I looked at (Y/N)’s astonish face as she slowly walked next to me.

  The view from the Astronomy Tower was fascinating. The moon illuminated in the sky along with the stars and there weren’t many clouds.

I glanced back at (Y/N)  and the first thing that I noticed was how her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Her nose was in a shade of red and so are her cheeks due to the cold breeze. Her skin illuminated in the moonlight. And those lips that are tinted in a light shade of pink. Looked so soft and kissable. 

All I can say is that she’s way more beautiful compared to the view.

“So, why’d you bring me here?” she asked breaking my trance.

That’s when the nervousness came back. The same amount of nervousness when I asked her out to the Yule Ball. What should I do? Should I kiss her already? Should I make a long sweet message? Or should I- Oh no word vomit.

“I l-like y-y-you,” I said.

“What?” She asked in shock.

“I l-l-like y-y-you. I’ve always had. Ever since I spilled ink on your homework. I love everything about you. Your eyes, your hair, your smile, your laugh, and even your imperfection. Basically everything about you. I know this sounds so cheesy and all but a day without you feels blue.” I said.

She stood there. Her cheeks got redder and her smile was gone.

“I know you probably don’t like me back and I’m pretty sure I look like an idiot but I hope this won’t end our friendship” I replied. I felt a tear fell down my cheek and my heart breaking.

Soon enough I was crying. In front of the girl that I love. 

I felt embarrassed and my legs felt week. I fell on my knees as I felt her stare at me.

She came near me and sat next to me. She made me look at me by grabbing my chin with her thumb and index finger. She wiped the tears falling from my face and I felt her forehead against mine.

“I,” she said as she came nearer.

“love,” she said. Our lips centimeters away.

“you” she whispered.

I crashed my lips to her soft ones and it was the best feeling I have ever felt. I finally got to kissed the girl that I love. The kiss was cut off when we heard someone cheered from the back.

“WOOH YEAH GET SOME GEORGIE!” we heard Fred’s voice.

“Oh piss off!” I shouted looking at (Y/N) whose face is red.

“So, date at Three Broomsticks next week?”

“absolutely,” she said.

“best. day. ever” she said.

“not only did I get to wear this beautiful dress and get to kiss you, I get to see you cry too!” she added laughing.

“Oh shut up,” I said and kissed her again.

anonymous asked:

here's a thought. scream. at this ask at the wall. just scream. kick it, punch it, get all your anger and sadness out. cuz from what I can see, you're bottling it up. and if you do that, you could get even worse. I could be wrong, but I don't think Boris would have wanted you to live the rest of your like moping and mourning him. Do you?

It was almost like he was screaming, yet there was not a sound.

A Taste Of Your Own Medicine Pt. 2 (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Originally posted by nellaey

Part 2 to a Taste Of Your Own Medicine

WOO does it feel good to finally get something posted!  I have not edited this yet, so sorry if it’s not the best or if they are errors!


You lay in bed that night, reminiscing your victory from earlier.  You were one of the very few people that had ever stood up to Draco Malfoy and actually won.  Funny thing, you actually used to have a crush on him.  That is, when you first saw him.  But pretty quickly you realized he was never going to change his jerk attitude, so you gave up on your fantasy.  

A few minutes later you fell asleep, your last thought being:  well, potions is sure to be quite interesting tomorrow.

*Time skip to potions class*

Being the good student that you were, you got to class before Draco did.  You pulled out your book and set your bag under your chair.  It wasn’t long before you sensed an arrogant ass sliding into the seat next to you.  You glanced over at Draco and smirked.  In response he groaned and rolled his eyes, then proceeding to move his seat as far to the end of table away from you as he possibly could.  

Class went rather smoothly, which was not what you were expecting.  Luckily there was no actual potion-brewing going on that day, so there was no reason that you and Draco would have to work with each other.  All Snape had on that agenda that day was boring old book work and a pop quiz.  

When class was two minutes away from ending for the day, everyone was stuffing their book and quills back into their bags to prepare to switch to their next class.  As you neatly tucked your ink bottle into your bag, you felt a tap on your shoulder.  You looked up in surprise.  It was the last person you expected it to be, Draco.  Great, what does he want?

You sighed, annoyed.  “What do you want, Draco?”

“Uh I-I just want to talk.”

Did he just stutter?

“Well, we can’t do that right now.”

“I know.  Before dinner tonight would you meet me by the Black Lake?”

You thought about this for a second.  What does he want from me?  Does he want to apologize?  That would be crazy.  Eh, might as well.  “As long as you don’t try to kill me or pull some crazy shit, sure.”

He frowned.  “I won’t.”

The rest of the class was too busy packing up their stuff to finally get out of Snape’s class to notice Draco and you talking.  Ten seconds after Draco’s reply, class was dismissed.

You went about the rest of your day thinking of answers as to why Draco would want to talk to you in private.  Maybe he wants to throw me into the lake so I get eaten by mermaids… Or drown… Or he’ll cast some curse on me to make me lose all my hair…   Or maybe he does really just want to apologize.  It may seem a little far fetched, but it’s definitely possible.

-

Once all your classes were over for the day, you sat in a large armchair in the Hufflepuff common room, deep into reading the newest book you had gotten from the library.  When you had finished four chapters, you glanced at the clock hanging over the fireplace.  It was 5:10pm, and dinner was served at 5:30pm.   Well, I guess I’d better get going to the Black Lake for whatever Draco has in store.

After you had placed your bookmark in your book and placed it in your trunk at the foot of your bed, and then you got your house scarf out.  It was November after all.

-

You made your way throughout the twisting corridors until you were finally outside on school grounds.  You carefully stepped down to where the Black Lake was located.  In the distance you could see the back of a black cloak with a green and silver scarf at the neck along with platinum-blond hair.

You approached who was obviously Draco, clearly very quietly since he never showed any sign of being aware of your presence.  You tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn around in surprise.  He appeared to be holding a single white rose.

“O-oh–I didn’t see you there.”

You smirked, amused.  “I can tell.”  You took a moment to observe your surroundings, to make sure none of his sly and highly annoying friends were waiting to cover you in rat droppings or anything else that could do you harm.  Thankfully, there was nothing.  “So… why did you want to talk to me?”

Draco sucked in a breath.  “I-I… just wanted to say…” he trailed off and turned his head downward as to not look you in the eye.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.  “Just wanted to say…?” You said and tapped him on the head.

His head sprung up.  “JustwantedtosayI’msorry.”

Your eyes got large.  “You spoke at the speed of light but I was able to make out the words ‘I’m’ and ‘sorry’.  You’re sorry?”  You were genuinely shocked to hear this.

He defeatedly nodded.  “You heard me.  I’m sorry.”

“Care to emphasize a bit more?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but was impressed by your straightforwardness.  “I’m sorry for everything mean and harsh I’ve ever said to you.  Like insulting Hufflepuff, your friends… your family…  It wasn’t right of me.”  He outstretched his arm to give you the beautiful rose.

With caution, you gently took the rose from his hand, making sure there wasn’t going to be any last-minute pranks.  When nothing happened, you lifted the rose to your nose and inhaled it’s sweet scent.  “Thank you, Draco.”  It was there for only a second, but you could’ve sworn you saw a smile and a red color to his cheeks.  “I appreciate your apology, but you shouldn’t be apologizing to only me.”

Draco slumped his shoulders.  “I know… Listen, how about we make a deal?”

Hearing this you were quite intrigued.  “I’m listening.”

“I’ll apologize to anybody I was ever cruel to, if you’ll go on a date with me this weekend at Hogsmeade.

Holy shit.  Well that was surprising.

You thought for a moment, Draco clearly very nervous for your response.  You nodded.  “‘Alright.  But I think you might have some trouble with apologizing to literally almost every student here,” you said smartly and smiled.

Draco groaned but laughed.  “I’ll write letters.  How about that?”

“Perfect.  But do anything mean this week and that date is off, mister.”

“I know.”

“Well, we should get going to the Great Hall before someone sees us out here.”

“I agree.”

“You do realize that if people see us walk in together and me holding this rose they’ll flip, right?”  You pointed out.

“Who knows, if that date goes well, they’ll be bouncing off the walls,”  Draco agreed as you two started to walk back to the castle.

“Oh–one more thing,” you said and you both stopped walking.  You leaned in and kissed his cheek, causing him to blush deeply.  “Thank you.”

-

That night you lay awake, a huge smile on your face.  Who knew Draco Malfoy actually could have a change of heart?  If this works out, it could be a whole new start for victims of his bullying.  Merlin, it’ll be a whole new start for Draco himself.  Plus I’ll have a smoking hot boyfriend.


Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!

Tags: @just-a-bit-odd @allyadarth @namelesslosers

Come Back When You Can

Summary: Guiltโ€™s a powerful emotion, one Newt has never been good at escaping.

Word Count: 2,336

Pairing: Newt x Reader

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

Any comments/opinions on this piece, positive or negative, are welcome and encouraged


Easy. It would be easy to fix this all. Just the flourish of the wand to send the quill into motion, one knot to tie it to the owlโ€™s foot, and one whisper to give away the address. All too easy.

Which is why, as you chew absentmindedly on the end of your quill and stare at the blank parchment in front of you, you want to scream.

The ticking of the clock is the worst, you think, as it keeps a steady pace of seconds, minutes, hours, and days spent without Newt.

Love, I could never-blame

Darling, please understand you couldnโ€™t make me-stay

Sweetheart, Iโ€™m not angry, I promise, you canโ€™t take fault

Sighing, you slam the quill onto the short desk. Itโ€™s a weak quill, one that snaps as soon as it hits the sturdy tabletop, and the sharp crack breaks your will.

The nurse in the corner startles at your frustrated shout.

She straightens the cap teetering on the top of her messy red hair. Sheโ€™s tried to tie it back, but the curls must be near impossible to tame, and she has to hold her hat as she rushes to your side, eyes wide in alarm.

โ€œWhat hurts?โ€ Her handโ€™s cold as it grips your wrist, feeling for a pulse.

โ€œNothing.โ€ You mutter, dropping your head against the stack of pillows she shoved on your bed an hour earlier.

โ€œOh please, darlinโ€™, nobody screams for no reason. What is it? Is it your stomach?โ€

You fight the urge to yell again, to scream at her to go away, to find him and bring him back here. They donโ€™t understand, none of them do. The words, you need the right words.

Her eyes drift to the small desk on your lap, to the two halves of the quill. โ€œOh, darlinโ€™, is it that old thing? Donโ€™t worry about that. Weโ€™ve got a bunch more sitting in a cup up front. Doctors break them all the time.โ€

She smiles, a grin thatโ€™s supposed to placate you, but all it does is make you angrier, make you want to grab the cup of quills and snap each and every one. Perhaps then you could find a way around this knot in your gut.

Fault. Blame. Such worthless words when it comes to love.

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: New Valentines

By @ijustwalkintomordor

4.1K words, G rated

Scorpius knows his dad is lonely, so he convinces Albus to help set him up with the new smokey-eyed potions professor. If Scorpius has his way theyโ€™ll all have a happy Valentineโ€™s Day.ย 

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Picasso & Ink Sans Part 3

ย  ย ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  โ€œSANS!โ€

ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  The door to Grillbyโ€™s slammed open, startling the bar tender and the half of the clientele not yet drunk off their ass. The three Sanses and two honorary-Sanses currently in attendance at the bar turned to face the fuming fifth, all shaken out of their various states of inebriation. The shorter Papyrus โ€“ Stretch, of the Swap Clan โ€“ lazily lifted his head, chewing on the end of his unlit cigarette as he watched the fuming Creator storm into the bar. Beside him Fell-Clan Red groaned and tightened his grip on his mustard, sending some of the thick condiment dribbling from the tip and onto his phalanges. Alpha Sans thought quickly through the pranks heโ€™d pulled that day, noted that he hadnโ€™t pulled any on Ink, and relaxed against the bar, back pressed against the shining top, elbows holding him up. Mobsy of the Mob Clan was sitting in a similar position, pulling it off much better than his original counterpart. He had his fedora tipped back a bit, and a cocky grin on his face. Beside him Swapfell-Clan Papyrus, nicknamed Slim, threw back a shot glass full of extra-hot sauce, then picked at one of his four golden fangs. All five gave the seething Ink Sans an intrigued-bordering-on-bored look.

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Attention [Sinbad X Dragon-Human! Reader]

Sometimes you hated the duties of a queen, main reason being, was the paperwork. Unlike, your slightly childish husband, Sinbad, you always got your work done instead of having poor Ja’far deal with it. You went as far as to take some of Sinbad’s paperwork to do yourself, knowing he wouldn’t get it done since he had everything else to deal with around the island.

You heard the door open to your office open but didn’t bother looking up, thinking it was Ja’far here to drop off more paperwork. In seconds, you could tell it was Sinbad because of his alcoholic scent and he knew, you knew, it was him.

“(Y/n)….*poke*…….(Y/n)…*poke*” Sinbad wined and continued poking you. He stayed in the same place for a minute before starting to poke you all over and it was getting on your nerves.

“Sin, stop.” You growled and he poked you again.

“I’m not going to stop poking until you give me some attention.” He demanded. You put the pen in the ink bottle then turned towards your mate.

“Did you finish doing your work?” You asked. Sinbad looked at you innocently, and you already knew the answer. “Then you’re not getting any attention.” You turned back to the papers, only to have Sinbad pull the chair away from the table.

“I’m kidding, I finished I promise.” You looked the king in the eyes and you could tell he was telling the truth.

“Fine, what do you want?” Sinbad grinned and picked up you, throwing you over his shoulders. “Sin!? What the hell are you doing?!” Your question was soon answered when he arrived at your shared bedroom.

“I’m getting the attention I desire.”

The Quidditch Kiss - Fred Weasley Imagine

-Requested-

~
can you do one where y/n is at the last quidditch game (against slytherin, if they win they’ll win the cup) and they win. then y/n runs up to the pitch and jumps onto fred, kissing him. then lee yells thru the mic, “another 100 points to gryffindor!!” since finally they kiss and y/n gets really shy and red and it becomes all fluffy ??
~

•Warning: Jealous and Touchy Fred!•

~(Y/n)’s POV~

I currently sat at Gryffindor table taking a quick bite of my toast before returning to my poster. I was making a poster for the Gryffindor quidditch team and for my boyfriend, Fred Weasley. Me and Fred have been dating for about 3 years coming up to our 4th anniversary tomorrow, it all happened so fast but it was the best four years of my life. We’ve had our ups and downs together, we couldn’t even spend a day without seeing each other but we always made up because that’s how much we love each other. I grabbed a little bottle filled with gold glitter ink and drew a small snitch in the corner of the poster. I felt a hand grab my ass and turned around quickly to see Fred smirking at me “What do you think your doing Mr. Weasley?” I asked pecking him on the lips “Just admiring your beauty as always” he smirked as I returned to my poster. He placed his chin on my shoulder to look at the red and gold poster I have created. “Does it need more glitter?” I asked “I think it looks gorgeous” he replied, I looked at him and found him staring at my breast “Fred! Not my boobs! Look at the poster!” I laughed hitting him on the shoulder. “I think It needs a little more glitter” he whispered.

“Where?” I asked looking at the poster with the glitter bottle in my hand. “Right on the G so everyone will know who your cheering for” he whispered kissing my neck “Fred. We’ve been dating for a while now I’m pretty sure everyone knows who I’m cheering for” I smiled “Some boys don’t get it though” Fred scoffed giving a death glare to the boy that was staring at me. Fred is the jealous type of boyfriend, whenever he saw a guy staring at me he would either grab my arm and pull me away or he would grab my ass and start making out with me roughly. I think it was pretty cute that he acted like that, plus I wasn’t complaining. “What’s wrong?” I asked “it’s that stupid ravenclaw Rogers! He’s always staring at you!” He said angrily “Hey, I’m yours and only yours. I’ll never leave you okay?” I told him cupping his face in my hands “Okay. Can I do the thing?” He asked pouting his bottom lip. I rolled my eyes “Go ahead” Fred smiled widely before jumping on to the table “(Y/n) (Y/l/n) is my girlfriend! So sorry mates! Back the hell off! And if you don’t think she loves me back you should ask her what we did last night!” Fred yelled giving Rogers another death glare.

Everyone in the Great Hall clapped as Fred sat next to me placing a kiss on my cheek “Fred! That last part wasn’t part of the deal!” I laughed shaking my head “what? I’m pretty sure everyone heard you last night anyways” he smirked “Oh my god! Fred! Go! Go to the locker rooms! I’m pretty sure Oliver needs you!” I couldn’t help but smile. “I love you” he whispered “I love you too ginger, now go” I whispered kissing him on the lips. I laughed as Fred blew a kiss at me which I quickly grabbed and placed on my lips.

~The Game~

“WELCOME EVERYONE! TO THE LAST QUIDDITCH GAME OF THE SEASON!” Roared Lee Jordan through his microphone, the stadium was filled with ear-splitting screams and shouts as both teams were announced and took their position on the field. Once the captains shook hands, Madam Hooch stepped on to the field to begin the game. She told everyone the procedures and what’s expected of their behavior, then she threw the quaffle high in the air. “THE QUAFFLE IS UP! THE GAMES BEGIN!” Lee yelled as people screamed at the top of their lungs “SPINNET NOW IN THE POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE! PASSES IT TO JOHNSON! SHE HEAD TOWARDS SLYTHERINS SIDE, SHE SHOOTS! SHE SCORES! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!” Lee screeched jumping up and down. I screamed in excitement and raised my poster even higher “Let’s go Gryffindor!” Most of the stadium chanted jumping high in the air. Everyone was on the edge of their seats for the rest of the game, it was Nerve-racking.

Gryffindor scored, then it was Slytherin, then Gryffindor again, then Slytherin! It kept going on like that until Lee shouted through the microphone again. “OW! FLINT HIT HARD IN THE FACE BY A BULDGER! HOPEFULLY IT BROKE HIS NOSE - JUST KIDDING PROFESSOR! SLYTHERINS SCORE! Oh no.” Lee said nervously. Gryffindor and Slytherin were at a tie right now with 40:40 points, lots of people who were terrified watched as the Gryffindor seeker and the Slytherin seeker chased a small golden ball also known as the golden snitch, just catching it will reward the team 150 points. Everyone gasped as they watched Harry and Malfoy disappear in the clouds above, a few seconds later both of them are coming down slowly. One with their head hung lowly, the other one smiling broadly with his hand held high in the air showing the golden snitch. Guess who caught it? It was Harry, it’s no surprise really. Harry was said to be the youngest and fastest seeker in Hogwarts history. “HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT IT! HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH! ONE-HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS WILL BE REWARDED TO HIM! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!” Lee shouted making the whole stadium scream and cheer loudly.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and dropped the poster on the floor. I ran past crowds of people and made my way to the field, once I spotted Fred I ran to him as fast as I can. He turned around and quickly caught me in his arms, I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist and kissed him roughly. He kissed me back with the same amount of passion and lust, it was amazing. “WOAH! ANOTHER 100 POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY (Y/n) AND FRED!” Lee shouted as everyone clapped loudly and wolf-whistled. I pulled back my face a little red, whenever me and Fred kissed like only ten people would watch but the whole school was watching. “THANK YOU!” I yelled to Lee as I hide my face in Fred’s neck “Don’t be embarrassed baby, they love you” he chuckled placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Okay! Everyone backup, my girlfriend is getting a bit flustered!” Fred yelled shooing people away. Lots of people went on talking and left the field, however all the Gryffindors went back to the common room to party. Me and Fred sat on the couch tangled in each other’s arms just watching everybody laugh and dance drunkly. “I love you so much” Fred whispered in my ear placing kisses on my temple and my forehead “I love you too” I whispered placing a light kiss on his lips but right when I pulled back, he cupped my face and brought it closer to him. He first placed a kiss on my forehead, then on my nose, then on my lips softly “I - Love - You” Fred said again in between kisses “your drunk” I whispered and smiled. “Maybe. But I still love you.” He grinned “Well, I love you too Weasley” I smiled before resting my head on his chest and just slowly drifting off to sleep.

💕OMG! Thank you Thank you Thank you for 2,000 Followers! I can’t thank you guys enough! But I want to thank all of you who have been with me ever since I started this blog!💕

Sentences

Series: Soul Eater
Main pairing: Soma
Genre: Romance, humor
Setting: AU: Soul Mates
Rating: T
Type: Multi-Chapter.
Read on: FF.net., Ao3
Read other chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven

Synopsis: In which the first sentence your soul mate will speak to you appears tattooed on your skin once you turn 18, and Maka discovers that not every sentence is romantic. (based off of this post)

A/N: (Edited)
Since itโ€™s been almost a year since I published this, I decided to go back and edit it since I wasnโ€™t very happy with it. Iโ€™m also adding to this for SOMA week 2016, so there should be eleven chapters total by the end of it!

Watch where youโ€™re going, Tiny Tits.

Maka stares at the words printed on her wrist in complete and total horror.

โ€œThis is not happening,โ€ she whispers. She tears her comforter off of her, sprinting to the bathroom. โ€œThis is not. Happening.โ€

She hunches over the sink, pouring half of a bottle of soap on a loofah and nearly screaming as she begins scrubbing.ย 

She accomplishes nothing.ย 

Well, almost nothing โ€“ sheโ€™s managed to give herself a raw and bright red wrist first thing in the morning. But as she stares at the tiny, six-letter Sentence written on her left wrist, she refuses to believe that this is happening to her.

There is no way that Maka Albarnโ€™s soul mateโ€™s first words to her will be โ€œwatch where youโ€™re going, Tiny Titsโ€.ย 

Nope. Thereโ€™s no way she will let that happen. And thereโ€™s no way in Hellย she will be seen in public with those words written on her wrist.ย 

This is unacceptable, and Maka is furious.

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Why should I have to apologize
It has only just occurred to me during a recent (and letโ€™s be honest, often) mental breakdown

That I say โ€œIโ€™m sorryโ€ like I am asking for permission to be myself
My mental illness is not a curse
My depression is not a black cloak
Not an identifying badge I will wear draped around my neck to remind others to tread lightly
I, will not tread lightly

It is a blessing to have the heart that I do
I wear it proudly stitched to my too baggy sleeves
My mind is a dark place only to those who do not let themselves feel

They tell me sadness is not normal
To think of suicide as a relief and not a burden is not normal
To that I say, I do not care what you think
That is not to say that I do not care about you
Or anything
Because I believe I care about everything and everyone possibly too much
And maybe that is the reason for the hollow, aching weight in my chest

I have grown used to the feeling of being trapped
By words, people, a medicine bottle, a diagnosis
I fit into many checked boxes
And some days, none at all

—  โ€œBoxesโ€ rough draft #1 | E. Day, July 2017
2

My favourite possible anti-vampire weapons are the dirty spatula and the collection of a least five different bottles of what has been helpfully labeled as “bear spray”.

ONE BOTTLE AT A UNIVERSITY MIGHT BE STRANGE

FIVE SEEMS DOWNRIGHT EXORBITANT

So I of course had to take a closer look, who do you think you’re talking to.

The only bottle label I can semi-reasonably make out appears to say “Chalk Ink”. SO I NOW HAVE EVEN MORE QUESTIONS THAN BEFORE I STARTED. The bottle on the far left looks like it has “2b” in the name. I’m assuming it’s a terrible pun, and I should be grateful I can’t see more.

Mostly though, I want to give props (HAHAHA) to props, for doing a pretty awesome job of taking up the brand names to disguise what these bottles actually are. I especially like the large white one, where it looks like they not only used red tape down the bottle length, but wrapped some around the cap, so it looks like the stripe is just part of the design.

KUDOS TO YOU HARDWORKING UNSUNG HEROES

Donโ€™t you dare let him ruin your favorite song. Do not turn on the radio and when the first note comes out you change it. Scream the lyrics as loud as you can.

Do not let him ruin your favorite panties. The navy blue ones with the white polka dots and the lacy edges. Donโ€™t think of the times heโ€™d run his hand up your thigh and tell you absolute sweet nothing just to make you fall for him. Wear those panties, you spent a little more money on them than you would have ever on a pair of panties.

Do not let him ruin your favorite perfume. Donโ€™t think of the times that his lips were in the crook of your neck taking deep breaths, inhaling every bit of you. Wear that perfume, overdo it. Do whatever the hell you want. But donโ€™t throw that 75 dollar bottle of perfume away.

Do not hate your passenger seat. Do not hate where he stopped you midsentence in the parking lot of a diner to give you a kiss. Do not hate that seat, someone else will sit there and hold your hand and sing along to the radio with you one day.

Keep your head held high, baby girl. It takes time. Do not hate these things, they are what are YOURS. Not HIS.

simplytwistedlife  asked:

So I really admire your art and have always wanted to work more with water colors, any tips? (Not too expensive, beginner.) but brands of materials, types of supplies, tips for using them, ect? I love love love your work! Xx

I’m sorry it’s taken so long to reply to your message: I hope I’ll be able to help a little!

There are two grades of watercolour, student and artist. The watercolours that I started off using were Cotman by Winsor and Newton, which are student grade. They are great for figuring out whether you enjoy the medium before moving onto the artist grade. I thought they were great! However, if you can afford a little more, I definitely recommend the St Petersburg White Nights - they are considered artist quality. These are what I used for all of my YouTube watercolours up until very recently. They are full pans as well, meaning you get a lot more paint than most other sets! I also use the White Nights for some of my calligraphy.
You don’t have to go crazy with getting lots and lots of colours when you’re starting off either. Getting a basic 12 colour set can be perfect!

This is just a little comparison between student quality Cotman and artist quality White Nights and Schmincke Horadam, so you can see how they behave with water:

In terms of paper, I definitely would spend a little more money to get proper watercolour paper. It will totally change how you enjoy using the paint. There are three types of watercolour paper - hot press (which is smooth and the paint dries quickly), cold press (which has a bit more texture and is the one I use the most) and rough (which has even more texture than cold press). I’ve only tried the Daler Rowney Langton cold press paper because the brand is available locally, but I’ve heard a lot about Arches too. For practising (and for some of my paintings) I use the Daler Rowney mixed media paper, which is more affordable and works very well.

I’m not very particular about my brushes - it’s quite nice buying a set and experimenting with that. I use round brushes (for details) and flat brushes (for washes) the most often. I love size 4 sable blend brush from Rosemary and Co - I use it for most of my paintings, as well as my 1” flat brush. Other than that, it’s a bit of mishmash!

Additional handy things to have:
• H pencil - I use this lighter pencil to plan out my paintings rather than a normal HB pencil, which can smudge into the paint
• Cheap spray bottle for water - I often spray the paper before painting: you get some really nice effects when you add the watercolour
• Masking tape - helpful for taping the edges of the paper down if you use lots of water in your painting, stopping it from warping
• Finetec metallic palette - totally a personal preference as I love adding metallic embellishments to pieces! These can be used as both paint and calligraphy inks.

(This work in progress is from a piece on my other art blog, artofthewoods)

I’ve started with an H pencil, sketching out my design. I don’t do anything in terms of shading. (Leave that until painting!)

I’ve just used the spray bottle to lightly cover the paper in water before adding my base colours. I normally let the paint do what it wants at this point - you can get some really lovely effects. I always start with light colours before building up to dark. I let this dry completely before continuing.

I’ve started to add some darker shading on the petals and at the centre of the roses. These ‘pink’ roses also have purples and oranges in them too! By adding different colours, you make the painting more interesting!

I kept adding darker tones and details on the flowers. (I made sure the paint had dried at every step before adding to it.) I changed my mind about the swirls I had sketched in around the flowers and opted for something more simple.

Calligraphy with the White Nights watercolours and a Leonardt EF Principal nib.

Honestly, I’ve seen amazing artworks made with very inexpensive watercolours, like Crayola - practice makes such a difference. Don’t be put off!
All the best with your art, I really hope you enjoy painting! xx

Day 14: Fierce

I waffled about on what I wanted to do for this, but finally decided to do a werewolf as I felt the need to do some more halloween themed pieces. I almost destroyed this entire drawing…and not on purpose. I was being stupid and holding my bottle of ink as I was going along with my nib pen. Well, I didn’t realize that I was tipping it and it poured out a huge blob right in the middle of it. I was able to fix it for the most part, thanks to some white watercolor paint and some quick paper towel action, but you can still kinda see where it was spilled on the forearm there. It kind of annoys me but I didn’t want to make the entire drawing that dark….

Happy Little Clouds

Request: Then maybe where y/n is painting and then Jack comes and tries to ruin everything? (lots of fluff pleaseeee) :3

A/n- I’m really glad it was an art related request bc I’m an art ho and actually have some knowledge of that kinda of stuff. Unfortunately, I don’t really know that much about Jack, but I bingewatched some videos so hopefully this isn’t too bad. My writing as been progressively getting worse so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you’d hoped.

Art is expression. Art is work. It’s is a versatile interest that spans class and country better than most hobbies. While you can spend thousands on supplies from oil paints to conte, Bristol to newsprint; you can do with just a pencil, paper, and an open mind.

As you sat at your desk, multimedia paper frog-taped to a small length of drawing board to keep it flat, you could feel a wave of pure serenity fall over you. This piece was just for you. Not for an art teacher or exhibit. There wouldn’t be a crit. This was your journey and yours alone.

You dipped a fan brush into the well of light pink acrylic paint, figuring pink clouds would be more fun than white. As you began to dab at the paper, you heard the door creak open.

“Oh, well what’s this?” Sean asked, coming up behind you to look over your shoulder. “Well, if that ain’t the loveliest fuckin sunset I’ve ever seen-”

“Oh no!” you cut him off, blocking the paper with your arms, “Don’t even try it!” 

He acted hurt. “What? I wasn’t going to do nothin!”

You turned to him, pursing your lips with eyebrows raised.

“That was one time!” he conceded.

“Sean, I literally told you ‘This is India ink. Be super careful because it goes a long way and there’s no covering it up with acrylic’ but what did you do? You picked up the uncapped bottle sideways and spilled it all over me and the painting I was doing for my show. I’m sorry if I don’t trust you after that,” you side eyed him.

He stepped next to you, one hand leaning on the desk while the other quickly snatched a flat brush. He examined it as much as one can examine a paintbrush. “Oh, c’mon, y/n. I just wanted you to show me your godly ways when it comes to art!”

You moved to take the palette but quick as a flash he dipped the brush up to the metal in deep purple.

“Sean…” you trailed off. He was now a threat. There was no way you could carefully untape the paper and run off with it before he did anything stupid.

“What?” he sounded offended. “I promise I won’t paint on your painting.”

You were slightly taken aback though you felt yourself relax, not having realized how tense he made you. You knew he hardly ever made promises so he could be trusted.

He rushed the next sentence. “But I’ll sure as fuck paint you,” he swiped the brush across your chin with a cheeky grin.

“Sean!” you grabbed a round brush, loading it with blue before standing up to face him. He backed away into the middle of the room where and empty space made a perfect place for a duel. You approached him warily, stopping two paces from him. You both held your brushes like swords waiting for the other to strike.

You made the first move, swinging wildly in the direction of his neck. He sidestepped and grabbed your arm, pulling you into him. You struggled to free your sword-hand while he bopped you on the nose with purple paint.

You stopped fighting and gave him a simmering bitch face. As soon as his grip loosened, you pulled away and managed to catch him on the cheek.

You both jumped back. Sean nodded in approval. “Just about even now, are we?”

You feigned surprise, filling your voice with concern. “Oh my God! Sean, it’s on your mouth! You can’t ingest this, it’s toxic!” He looked incredibly confused as you stepped forward and cupped his face in your hand. Before he could react, you used the remaining paint on the brush to color the rest of his cheek. 

“Now we’re even,” you said, throwing your hands up in mock surrender.

“You motherfucker! You got me!” he tapped his fingers against his cheek and checked to see how much paint came off. “Alright, let’s be done before we make a mess. We should probably get cleaned up.”

“I don’t know. You look quite manly in that paint. It really highlights your cheekbones. I knew you’d look good in blue,” you pretended to admire your work.

Sean shrugged in response. “Well, I always told you purple was your color.”

“Maybe I’ll just have to get this tattooed on my face.” 

He licked his thumb and started to clean the paint off your nose. “Why ruin such a pretty face with an amateur’s first work? The next one will be much better…”

chrissydaae  asked:

so i'm doing some writing and am absolutely clueless as to what christine would want to get erik for his birthday (aside from a sense of humor). what do you think?

Ooh, fun! Here’s a list off the top of my head.

Flippant answers:
-Cologne to mask the smell of death
-New coffin liner
-Face lotion to prevent chafing
-Cufflinks shaped like skulls
-New set of safety pins
-Galoshes for the sewers
-Tear-absorbing handkerchiefs

Serious answers:
-A fancy new pen (perhaps with a bottle of fresh black ink, as a not-so-subtle hint to ditch the red)
-Handmade slippers
-The performance of a favorite song of his that she has secretly learned to sing
-A framed portrait of her
-A handwritten poem
-Embroidered handkerchiefs
-A private box at the symphony
-A gorgeous set of leather-bound encyclopedias 
-A short, romantic trip to a remote location
-The program from her appearance in Faust, with a heartfelt inscription