scaredycatwrites

[scaredycatwrites]

teen villains + text posts

[scaredycatwrites]

Sammy, opening a first aid kit: WHY WOULD YOU FILL IT WITH CHEETOS???

CJ, bleeding out: it was funny at the time

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Cj, coming to the family dinner: This is my girlfriend, Freddie!

Harriet, frowning: Oh… You could do so much better.

CJ: Hey! Nobody gave you the right to talk about her that way!

Harriet: I wasn’t talking to you, Calista. I was talking to Freddie. Seriously? CJ? Over everyone in the isle and Auradon?

Harry: Saw it coming but, damn, Freddie’s got a bad taste…

[scaredycatwrites]

I srs think that , once his children come out to him, Hook will start to tell all of his lgbt related stories. 😭

Harriet comes out as a lesbian? Nice! Did ya know I dated Morgana’s son once?

Harry comes out as trans? Aight. Now learn how to navigate while you hear me talk about a friend who was also trans. (Morgie.)

Cj coming out as pan? -sniff- She likes everyone… like a true Hook… Like father like daughter…

[scaredycatwrites]

[scaredycatwrites]

Seashells

morgie x gn! reader with water powers

summary: morgie catches you by the beach and asks you for a favour

warnings: fluff

a/n: sorry for the hiatus, writers block been hitting me hard

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Ever since Hook introduced Morgie to the beach it instantly became his favourite place. He had a small draw in his closet filled with of seashells and other things he had found while strolling by the shores. After class if he wasn’t scheming with the VK’s or practicing his animal sounds he was at the beach.

The beach was your secret getaway from your stressful life as council president at Merlin academy. The endless ocean was also a place you could practise your water magic. It started as just making waves but soon turned into an art form and relaxation for you.

One day late at night you were lying on a beach towel relaxing on the sand and listening to the ocean. That was until you heard the faint sound of a twig snap. You swivelled your body around quickly trying to locate the noise.

Just then the sound of footsteps rang through your ears. You grabbed your beach towel and started backing towards the water. You could now see the shadowy figure growing closer to the beach.

You used your free hand to form a water ball. You waited for the perfect time and threw the ball. You were greeted with the familiar voice of Morgie. He stepped through the tree, his outfit drenched in water “Did you do this” He looked you straight in the eye which startled you “I- uh- yes…” He stared for a few seconds before jumping in the air “That’s so cool, you can control water I’m so jealous” His reaction threw you completely off guard.

He started walking closer, shaking his body to get rid of the water “stand still, I’ll get it out” He followed your order and stood still and within a matter of seconds all the water on him disappeared “Woah” He walked a little faster until he reached where you were standing

“Can I ask you a question” You weren’t in the mood for questions but his eagerness and very clear joy overthrew that mood “Sure” He smiled “I love seashells and there are some in the water there, but I don’t like getting wet so…do you think you could part the water for me”

You smiled at his cute but childish question “Out of all the VK’S you fascinate me the most, but sure I’ll part the water” You dropped the beach town and focused your energy on parting the water long enough for Morgie to collect his shells. He ran forward and started picking them all up one by one.

After a couple seconds he stepped back which you took as a cue to let go. Taking a couple quick breathes you returned to look at Morgie “Thank you, These are going to be perfect for my collection” He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek “Bye” And with that he walked off leaving you dumbfounded and clutching your cheek.

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[scaredycatwrites]

Um desenho de Descendentes 4 que eu fiz ontem 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[scaredycatwrites]

Do you do Morgie fics ? Because if so could you do a Morgie x Bridget sister after his friends get a detention over the sorcerybook where they have a first kiss at castle coming ? Or it could be James. I don’t mind at all

pairings: morgie le fay x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: making out, morgie is very briefly upset/insecure

note: it’s implied the vk’s tried to steal the cookbook on the same night as castlecoming

quick footsteps cascade down the hall, shallow breaths whistling under the moonlight, as morgie sprints towards the ballroom. his hands fumble with the outfit he’d thrown together in a flurry of simultaneously trying to dry off from the rain, trying to make it look like he didn’t fall down a flight of stairs on his way here. 

as he anxiously tries to restyle his scarf for the hundredth time, he’s a second away from colliding with the ballroom doors, when he skids to a stop—panting as he heaves at the handle, and reveals dull flashes of colourful spotlights.

almost tripping over as he leans to peak his head through the gap in the doors, morgie’s nervous eyes flicker across walls decorated with streamers, and countless tables surrounded by rigid chairs. his heart sinks, as he slowly takes in the sight of barely even a handful of students still drifting around the ballroom, and even fewer fluttering about as they steadily clean everything up. 

beginning to take a step back—realising that the dance has long since ended, and he couldn’t have been later to the most important night of the year if he tried—he finally spots you all the way against the back wall, side-by-side with bridget (as the two of you press up on your tip-toes, reaching for string-lights way out of your reach, trying to prove to the fairies on the party committee that you can help out just as well without magic). 

you’d insisted on keeping your choice of dress a secret, but he’s not surprised to find that it’s pin, just a little softer than your sister’s bright gown, with ruffles softer than fairy floss—though now, with the night of dancing ‘til you overheat long gone, the pinks are hidden away by a mismatched cardigan one of your friends lent you. and, as bridget tries to give you a boost as you jump with your arm in the air, your skirt is hiked up; with the style you would’ve happily shown off earlier in the night, pushed aside for functionality. 

crestfallen, morgie slips back into the shadows outside the ballroom, savouring one last glance in your direction, before turning away—to spend his night laying awake as his heart chews him up from the inside out for missing the one good thing he had going for himself. 

but, what he misses, as he turns his back, is bridget—with all her scarily accurate sisterly intuition—whipping around just in time to spot a sliver of green outside; and shoving you in his direction. 

his feet barely drag him a metre away from the door, before your steps come thundering from behind, and you’re throwing your arms around him eagerly. 

cheering his name, you rock him back and forth excitably for a few seconds—all while morgie freezes in shock, eyes bulging and mouth dropping open, in a mix of a spine-chilling fear of having disappointed you, and overwhelming relief to be in your arms—before spinning him back around to face you. 

you all but yell, “i’ve been waiting for you!” but you don’t sound angry—or, he thinks he worried sick over the most; seeing you sad—as you give him with widest grin. he hadn’t even been sure you’d want to see him here at all, in the first place, but the way your eyes shine brighter than the spotlights behind you leave very little room for doubt. 

“oh—” he doesn’t know what to say, eyes lost in dancing over the glitter smattered across your upturned cheeks, and mind lost even further with a whirl of emotions that he can’t pin down, “…um, i’m sorry for being late—” 

with a loud gasp, you cry, “nonsense! i’d wait all night for you!” 

morgie’s eyes only grow impossibly wider, his mouth flapping open and shut with stutters of half-formed sentences of what he’s been meaning to talk to you about for weeks. but bumbling confessions and fumbling professions of love get caught in his throat, as all of a sudden your hands are flying up dangerously close to his neck, and your voice is singing softer than gentle sunlight. 

“morgie,” you coo, as deft fingers fiddle with the scarf he’d spent far too long grumbling in front of a mirror attempting to style, “you look so handsome.” 

(and he doesn’t know how you could even think to spare him a glance, when you stand before him with such perfect lips that curl into the most blinding smile, and pecks sparkling cheeks—and though he can’t tell whether the glitter, spread across your eyelids and dotted along your lips, is deliberate makeup or signs of a carefree night; he finds the whole sight beautiful either way.) 

he can no longer focus on anything but the feeling your hands falling to run down his chest, as you hum compliments that stick to him like lipstick stains. 

“i would have loved to dance with you,” you giggle to yourself, blissfully unaware of the effect you have on the flustered boy, as you straighten his windswept outfit, “especially when you look like this.” 

swallowing thickly, morgie swears his cheeks are on fire, as he can barely mumble out calls for your attention through shaky exhales. he whispers your name, ever so slightly trying to lean down and catch your gaze where it drops to the askew hem of his shirt—but finds himself freezing again, teeth chewing down on his bottom lip and stomach swirling worse than any storm, when your hands shift to rest on his hips. 

you sway side-to-side gently, imitating a slow dance as you tilt your head back to the ballroom dreamily (as morgie’s eyes can’t help but flicker to the expanse of your neck that reveals under the moonlight). 

“it would have been the loveliest if you were there,” you sigh, but still hold no anger against him for being just a moment too late, “but there’s always next year—we could match our outfits, then!” 

realising you basically just asked him to be your date to the next castlecoming, morgie is almost certain his heart just exploded into a thousand tiny little specks of your signature pink glitter inside his chest—and, as a giddy smile slips through his vibrant blush, you finally turn you gaze back to him. 

“awww,” your own heart melts at the sight, your hold—that had been slowly rising to his waist—flies up to cup the human puddle in the palm of your hands, “you look so adorable, with those rosy cheeks…” 

he bites back an embarrassing little noise that sparks up in the back of his throat, his whole body overheating at your unwavering attention melting him where he stands, and your words driving a sickly-sweet dagger into his chest. it’s almost like his legs give out beneath him, as he can no longer hide himself back from lurching towards you; and tumbling into your arms with a desperate kiss.

the briefest moment of shock as his lips collide with yours, disappears into thin air as soon as you realise oh my goodness, you’re finally kissing morgie!—your hands pull at his cheeks to deepen the kiss, his warm lips sliding against yours enthusiastically as you feel his hands fluttering all around your body. 

the only consistency is his lips against yours—and even they slide against each other clumsily, with accidental grazes of teeth that have no business making you as lightheaded as they do, and slips of your tongue against his tender skin that have him wondering if it would be improper to dive head-first into making out on just your first kiss—as his hands grasp and tug wherever along your body they can reach; wandering fingers finding your thighs before running up your back, just as his other hand releases from clutching at the fabric at your chest, to wrap around and hold your torso against his. 

he leans into whichever way you drag him, his lips chasing after yours with low whines whenever you grasp for pockets of air—his mouth awkwardly tilted against yours, when your hand finds and tugs at his soft hair, and he chases after the dizzying caress as he angles his head even further into your palm. 

your leg is starting to slip between his, as his frantic lips begin to veer off-course and across your cheeks, when an ear-piercing squeal breaks the two of you apart. 

through heavy pants, the both of your hearts pound harder than you ever thought possible, as your head snaps to your right with wide eyes; only to find your sister cheering for you with a beaming grin and two thumbs-up. 

just as quick as the two of you stumbled away from each other at the interruption, you’re falling back to hide amongst the other’s arms with burning cheeks and timid giggles (and gone in a flash even quicker, bridget skips over to whisper a loving “finally!” to you, before disappearing back inside—waiting until you’re not all over each other, to interrogate you about what is quickly becoming the best night of your life).

morgie’s breath shudders across your neck, drawing pleasant little shivers as he takes his time to muster up more than a lovesick whisper. 

“...you said we could go to castlecoming together, next year,” he mumbles, lips softly shifting against your skin, as his tender voice reverberates like a kiss injected into your bloodstream, “does that mean we’re… y’know…” 

“if you can deal with me being the most annoying girlfriend ever until then.” 

your teasing smile grows, as he whines into your neck, and tightens his grip around your waist. 

“you’re not annoying!” he cries, tone as deeply serious as it can be when he can still feel his lips tingling from the pressure of yours. 

gently coaxing him out of hiding, your hands find their home back on his flushed cheeks, squishing his warm skin fondly, as your glistening eyes are entranced—by his shy smile peaking past where he tries to bite it back, his own gaze glued to your face, with his pupils so wide as deep pools of hazel want nothing more than to take in every single inch of you. 

“what about… after the dance…?” he scrunches up and leans closer, like he can’t breathe when he’s more than a second apart from you, “…could we still stay together?”

your immediate nod blurs as you pull morgie’s face right against yours, your lips brushing tantalisingly against his, as you whisper, “how long do you want to stay together?” 

“forever,” he replies, the answer coming to him without hesitation—as he can’t stand your feather-light touches a moment longer, and presses his lips against yours once more. 

[scaredycatwrites]

Guys, super random but I fully believe that Morgie is an artist. He likes drawing animals, plants, & humans.

[scaredycatwrites]

I think it sucks that they didn't let Hook and Morgie kiss in RoR but then again they also didn't let Harry and Gil kiss in Descendants 2 which also sucks

[scaredycatwrites]

I write needy! Hook in a Jack Johnson "Banana Pancakes" way but needy! Morgie is sooooo Nevershoutnever "Can't Stand It"

[scaredycatwrites]

Headcanon that on the Isle of the Lost, Peter Pan is like their equivalent of the Boogeyman.

Like "don't go out at night, or Peter Pan will snatch you up and take you to join his Lost Boys!"

Adding onto that, Harry's probably terrified of him. So imagine one day, he's been an absolute dick to Jay and Carlos, so Jay sneaks Carlos into Harry's room and has him pretend to be Peter to scare him.

Carlos is nearly killed, but Harry still can't sleep for a month without someone guarding him.

[scaredycatwrites]

Random hyperactive Hook hc but like imagine putting a hook attached to your arm in your mouth and practically chewing it? I dunno it just makes me think that Hook has a short or rather distracted attention span. That he probably used to chew on his nails (and still does on his remaining hand). Him having constantly something in his hands or another stimulus. He probably chews on his chain necklace as well when he's in bed or in a place without his hook. ANYWAYS he has really bad insomnia and literally can't think cause of having to be constantly thinking or doing something. dissapears

[scaredycatwrites]

morgie: nuh uh

hook: fym nuh uh

morgie: NUH UH

hook: YUH HUH

*an hour later*

Bridget and Ella: they have been doing this for about an hour

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[scaredycatwrites]

i love my prince/wizard/seer/shapeshifter sm

JUST LOOK AT THIS BABY! 🥺