#Newt Fencing

[vincentblackbearmediallc]

One member of the salamander family called the Great Crested Newt has been diminishing in number over the years due to loss of habitat, which is the reason that newt fencing is required in England.  When any type of site work is being conducted for new construction, companies must install these fences to prevent these, as well as other small creatures, from entering the site.

[indig0trolls]

ALRIGHT EVERYONE I'M ABOUT TO DISAPPEAR DOWN ANOTHER ART HOLE

i may not be reachable for the next like. 12-24 hours depending.

Lots of love <3

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

winter break

Hermann has never met Newton’s family. But after a falling out with his own father and a month’s holiday looming on the horizon, that’s about to change.

Tackled yet another prompt while my students were doing their free writing. Not sure why I chose the holiday season when it’s nearly the middle of May, but here we are~ Possibly from the same universe as Nelson’s Lake. 1.331 words.

"I’m just saying- You haven't met my family." Hermann feels his expression quirk into that familiar doubt that Newton seems to so easily trigger, activated this time by the truly ominous tone said biologist had chosen to employ. Prone to theatrics, a perfect countermeasure to Hermann's ceaseless criticisms. "Newton, I'm certain that your father and uncle are perfectly decent people." After all, nothing could be worse than- Well. He didn't warrant any more of Hermann's time. Newton's eyes had turned to study Hermann's, peripherals still keeping firmly to the road beyond the spider-webbed fractures of the windshield. "See, you say that now, but you don't know them like I do, Herms. They're-" Newton's focus turns fully back to the road, right hand lifting in a vague gesture that, in Geiszlerian Interpretation, roughly translates to: It's a complicated matter, and I'm not going to waste time trying to explain every minute detail proving exactly why it's complicated. Hermann's unsure when exactly he became fluent.

Unwilling to continue with this particular tirade, and most definitely wanting to avoid a discourse that would eventually leave them both frustrated, he offers his own form of a truce. "Every family is complicated. But for you to care for them this much, I'm certain they're good people."

Newton doesn't react at first, but then comes a jerking smile, a quick glance towards the passenger seat, and Hermann knows the compliment- I trust your judgement.- was picked up after all. For a few moments, the conversation wanes, the only sounds coming from the balding tires on neglected tar-patched asphalt, the slight squeak of the serpentine belt, and the nearly silent hum of a J-Rock CD Mako had gifted Newton five years ago. It's... surprisingly peaceful. In another life, in another time, another place- Hermann would have flinched away from the very idea. Joining his best friend- and God help him if Newton ever heard him admit it- for holiday instead of returning home, neglecting his familial obligations? Inconceivable. Inexcusable. Batshit insane, as Newton would say. But after the recent fallout with Lars, Hermann had absolutely no desire to return home for the winter holiday. Frankly, he had no desire to ever return to that place. And then Newton- wild, spontaneous, caring Newton- had not-so-casually mentioned a spare bedroom, an offer that Hermann hadn't thought twice about accepting. Clearly, the other was rubbing off on him. For their part, both Jacob and Illia were allegedly delighted to have Newton's part-time colleague, full-time flatmate joining them, leaving Newton to run reconnaissance back-and-forth between his family and his- frankly, bemused- friend about allergies, traditions, and- worryingly; Hermann recalled several truly alarming Hanukkah jumpers hidden deep in the photos of Newton's Facebook- favorite colors. Several times, he had nearly reconsidered, awash with a familiar anxiousness which followed him whenever meeting new people, particularly those of some level of authority. But thoughts of his father filled him with a nauseating sense of ill-will, and he knew that, should he submit to Bastian's pleading emails and Karla's angered texts, a small war would be fought on the home front. No, for everyone's sake, it was best to avoid darkening Lars' doorway this season. It's begun flurrying. Newton curses under his breath as he starts the wipers, lips twisting into something resembling displeasure as he switches on the headlights. Hermann feels a small smile. He misses the snow, remembers when, not so long ago, drifts left from late November would cling to the landscape through mid-February, each winter bringing him a whole new world to explore, to study, to catalogue, to master in that way in which only children can. These days, winter was warm, a small blessing as his muscles despised the cold weather. But a small, whimsical part of him still misses the snow- its crisp, polished gleam as sunlight dances above and below, the world frozen in a space beyond Time, beyond beauty. "Ya know, when I was a kid, I used to stand out on our back porch every time we got snow. I'd spend forever just staring up at the sky, pretending I was flyin' through the Milky Way. Onkel Illia used to get so mad at me for it cause I'd get sick every frickin' time." Hermann smiles fully at the image. "I'm sure you were a terror." Newton snickers, not denying the accusation. "What do ya mean 'were?' Still am, dude." Hermann feigns a put-upon sigh. "A fact I am intimately familiar with, alas." "'Alas,' he says, like he fell out of some 19th century novel." Hermann gives his driver a mildly irritated scowl. "Must we rehash such a ridiculous argument, Geiszler?" Newton smirks, eyes practically sparkling in mischievous intent. Hermann finds himself rolling his own, exasperation not so exaggerated at this juncture. "Please, whatever it is you are thinking of, do not. The last impression I want to make is-" Newton's expression falls into something less menacing, almost... sincere. "Dude, you don't have to worry, alright? I promise Dad and Illia already love you. There's literally nothing you could do to change that." Hermann frowns, nearly scoffs in disbelief. "Be sensible, Newton. You can't love someone you've not even spoken to." Newton offers one of his half-shrugs- a gesture that mimics a consideration for Hermann's words, but one that indicates that Newton is fully confident in his own stance and isn't truly absorbing what the other is trying to say. "Like I said earlier, Herms: you haven't met my family." That- That is reasonable. Newton is, after all, drawing his conclusions from nearly 30 years worth of data, and Hermann- He cuts those thoughts off immediately, determined to find familiar footing. "And not even 10 moments ago, you were lamenting how overwhelming they can be." Newton shoots him a grin. "What can I say, Herms? I contain multitudes." The remainder of the car ride is relatively quiet, Hermann and Newton both taking turns to point out the various houses with holiday themed decor- some beyond garish, others beyond excessive, and in the case of one pink house with an astonishing amount of plastic flamingos out front, both. Americans, Hermann thinks to himself, distracted by the way Newton's begun tapping out a frantic rhythm against the steering wheel, buzzing with excited energy. For Newton, this is a homecoming. There may come squabbling and disagreements over snack foods and bickering over who used the last of the hot water, but it would be from a place of unconditional love, foundations only strengthened as the years progressed, the bond only growing fonder. And now, pulling into the drive of a mostly nondescript house- apart from the nearly four-meters-tall Godzilla replica bedazzled in holiday lights and a Santa hat- Hermann finds himself almost envious. An envy that is soon forgotten- lost, abandoned- somewhere between Jacob's engulfing hugs and Illia's quiet asides and Newton's endless ribbing. He's surprised at how easily he is pulled into the fold, barely has a moment to wonder at how fluidly he is woven into conversation. Hours, and one long dinner, later, and Illia has dragged him into a particularly heated debate about their favorite Fußball clubs, a debate which has earned the mockery of both other Geiszlers, a not-so-polite gesture from a slightly tipsy Hermann directed to a certain other (now allegedly affronted) professor, a warm laugh from his host, and a bright grin from his debate partner. Soon after, Illia is rising, kitchen-bound in the perilous quest for more drinks. Hermann takes the lull as an opportunity to check his phone. He's missed several texts from each of his siblings, multiple calls from his father, and there is a blinking red light not-so-kindly informing him that he has several voicemails waiting to be heard. For a moment, he nearly submits to his sense of duty, but it's aborted immediately. In a frankly Geiszler-esque gesture, Hermann tosses his phone away to the furthest recesses of the sectional and starts in on another snickerdoodle. Lars' lecture can wait til morning.

Thanks for reading!

[bee6r]

Rushed Reunion

⚠contains maze runner SPOILERS⚠

{Gally x !GN! Reader}

Summary: After reaching the last city, you reunite with Gally after thinking he was dead. (takes place in the Death Cure movie)

Warnings: Violence, cursing

WC: 1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The streets are crowded as your group attempts to push their way through to the front of the barrier. You wonder silently why no one wants to cross it, given the lack of guards patrolling, but decide it is better to be safe than sorry.

People are screaming from all around you and the group, and it's all you can do, not to be separated from each other. Finally, you reach the street that winds down the middle of the square. Large black trucks pass, many of them carrying uniformed soldiers towards the border. You stare up at them, wonderingly and one catched your eye. You don't mean to exactly, but as the soldier keeps your gaze locked with his own, you let your eyes follow him down the road until the car turns and continues out of sight.

"Y/N," Newt calls from a few paces ahead, "we're going to try to make it to the front." You nod and follow him, along with the rest of the group.

It takes some pushing, shoving, and Thomas pulling you forward between two women who refuse to budge, but finally, you can rest your hands on the concrete fence. Thomas and Newt talk to each other in hurried whispers to your left, while you quickly survey your surroundings. Beyond the mass of people there is a strong iron wall, splitting only for seconds at a time as vehicles enter the city.

Resting on the tops of the walls are large weapons, all pointed away from the crowd, but you don't underestimate their power once activated. As if reading your mind, small red lights flicker on inside each of the machines and they spring to life, un-focusing on the entrances and instead setting their malicious sights on the front of the crowd. At once, everything goes silent, then, the first blast crashes to the ground on your right and screams erupt throughout the mob.

You're knocked out of your stupor as someone grabs your arm.

"Let's go!" a voice yells, and you can't tell if it's Thomas, Fry, or someone else. Instead of thinking, you run in the direction of the voice, trying to get away from the area of the blast but more attacks are already coming. The hit the ground behind you and it is all you can do to stay on your feet as the ground shifts. Suddenly, someone grabs you, but the idea that it may be someone from the Glade stops you from reacting immediately.

"Thomas?" You ask, but no one answers, and before you know it, you're being thrown into the back of a dark van. You scream, running towards the doors to escape, but you're knocked backwards as Jorge is thrown into the van as well. He doesn't hesitate to mimic your actions, throwing his weight against the door of the van right as it closes securely.

You sit back on your heels, trying to catch your breath, but Jorge continues to ram himself against the door as the van begins to move.

"Let me out you assholes!" He screams and you lunge forward grabbing his middle and pulling him back.

"Jorge! Stop, you're going to hurt yourself!" You try and scream over his consistent yells, but he continues trying to break down the doors, to no avail.

After about ten minutes of this, the vans stop, and Jorge backs up, readying himself for a fight, and as the doors open, he propels himself forward and out of the car and towards the soldiers.

You jump after him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he tries to run at the others.

"Where is she?" he yells, his voice booming in what you realize is a kind of highway overpass. "Where is Brenda? If you hurt her i'll-"

"Jorge I'm here, I'm right here," Brenda assures, stepping out of an identical van to your right. You release Jorge's middle as he crosses over to Brenda. You turn to the others, Thomas, Newt, and Fry, as they also step out of the van.

"Thanks for leaving me with him," you mutter as Newt walks over to pat your shoulder.

"Anytime," Newt smirks, and you smile. Thomas, however, is already striding over to the closest soldier, anger evident in his features.

"Where are we?" he asks, his voice and temper both rising, "where did you bring us?"

"We're here to help," another soldier calls, making his way over to your group, "no need to get angry." You recognize the voice but can't place it immediately. Apparently, Newt does as well, because he turns to you, a look of confusion crossing his face.

"Who are you?" Thomas asks, his voice still louder than anyone else's. The soldier sighs, and stops walking, only a few feet away. Then, his head turns towards you, and he takes off his helmet.

As soon as you see him, your arms are around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Gally's arms curl around your waist in return, and he snuggles his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

"I-I thought you were-"

"I know," he whispers so that only you can hear him, "I know, and I'm sorry." Instead of responding, you pull him impossibly closer, never wanting to let go. When you finally pull away, he presses a quick kiss to your lips, and you smile.

"I missed you," you whisper, before turning back to the group. While the two of you reunited, the others had been talking. As you face Thomas, Newt and the others now, they turn to you, hope alite on their dirt-covered faced, and smiles starting to form.

"Okay," Thomas starts, "we have a plan."

PART 2 COMING SOON...

[janetsboys]

gally x female reader pleaseeee anything

here you go baby

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❀ characters: gally x fem!reader

❀ A/N: i’m so sorry for the amount of time it took me to post this

❀ summary: y/n has been in the Glade for three months, she’s a Builder, but she doesn’t get why her boss hates her.

❀ warnings: can’t think of any

english is not my first language<3

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❀ ❀ ❀

“Why do you even care so much about what this jerk thinks about you?” Newt asks you as you’re both sat under a tree during your work break.

“I don’t know, we spend our days together and I just, I just wanted him to like me but every single thing i do makes him angry!” you say agitating your hands in incomprehension.

“He hates everyone, pretends he likes his friends, and he doesn’t like you because you get attention for being the only girl in here. He knows everyone likes you.” Newt was your best friend and always brutally honest with you, which was why you loved him so much.

You were looking at the grass under the “sun”light when a tall shadow came up to you and Newt. “Hey, it’s ten minutes break not five hours so get your ass back to the cabin.”

Gally was looking down on you, talking to you with a severe tone as usual. You in fact didn’t know why you wanted him to like you. He’s your boss and you spend all your days with him, you thought maybe you could see something behind his cold personality because weirdly, he didn’t intimidate you. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you.

You were fixing a fence for the Slicers to keep the livestock in the Glade when you heard Gally saying there was a bonfire tonight. You thought that would be the perfect occasion to try to make friends with him. Though you didn’t want to chase him down and beg for friendship, it was your last try.

When the night started and you joined the gladers at their little celebration for being alive another day (that’s what you guessed), you didn’t know everyone perfectly well yet. You liked Zart because he was really nice to you, you liked Ben and Minho cause they were unintentionally funny to you, and Newt was your favorite of course.

You looked around to find someone you know because you didn’t want to be in the middle of all the boys by yourself and also, you don’t like all the attention being on you (— which was unfortunate since the attention was always on you).

Minho waved at you with a straight face because he saves his smiles for rare occasions. You felt relieved as you walked to him sitting alone but you also felt a huge pressure as if someone was looking at you.

“Hey, how is this bonfire going so far for you?” Minho kindly asked giving you a cup of a weird drink, “Well, i like parties, i think i do, at least. I’d like to know everyone here but apparently, not everybody wants me here.” you respond taking a sip before making a face.

“Gally again?” Minho said exhaling, “I know i shouldn’t care but it makes me upset.” you say sitting next to him, sighing.

“Don’t worry, it’ll come. He’ll end up liking you just like we all do because, there’s absolutely no reason to hate you.” he kindly answers with a little smile. Your best friends really treated you well for the past three months because, even though they couldn’t understand how it was to be a girl in a world of boys, they knew how hard it was for them when they arrived here. They could only imagine it was harder for you.

“Thank you.” you say with a tiny smile before resting your head on his shoulder. You knew Minho wasn’t really the one to say kind words to everybody. Or the one to accept a head on the shoulder easily, but he let you.

“Hey Newt.” you saw him walking up to you with a huge cup, “Do you guys want to taste THIS?” he said laughing like he knew something you didn’t. “That thing has to hold a deadly virus.” Minho said before you added “No thank you, i’d rather stay alive.” slightly giggling.

Newt then turned around to look at everybody then told you; “The hell is he staring at?”, “Who?” you answered a bit concerned. “Gally.” Newt said laughing again, “Maybe he doesn’t hate you that much after all.”

“You know what? I’m gonna talk to him and we’ll see if tomorrow he still hates me.” you reposted getting up to go there. “He doesn’t hate you!” you hear Newt add as you walk away. Always the devils advocate, always staying positive for some reason.

You felt a little stressed out, your hands were slightly shaking as you got closer to him while he was focused on laughing with his friends and drinking, you started regretting but you were too far into your mistake to go back. Of course, the alcohol in your blood made you braver which was good in this situation.

You sat next to him as if it was totally normal. “Hey, Gally, this drink is really good. I heard the recipe was a secret.” you boldly told him putting hair behind you ear, trying to look confident.

“Thanks. What are you doing here? Your boyfriend and your lil’ best friend must miss you already.” He says loudly as all his Builder friends laugh (— they laughed like that was the funniest thing ever, i think they laugh at everything Gally says).

“I don’t have a boyfriend, i have good friends though. And some guys seem to dislike me for unknown reasons, they miss out on a lot of fun.” you smile, looking really friendly and nice. You’re not trying to seem patronizing or something. That would only make him despise you.

“So, Gally, you want us to go get another drink?” he stares at you for a while before getting up to follow you. Your legs shake from stress as he walks besides you.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything about you?” you break the short silence. “There’s nothing to say.” he coldly answered. “Oh come on, you like building and fighting, what else do you like?” “Having a purpose. And a home. I guess.” he finally opens up a little bit more to you. You feel a small smile growing on your face, breaking the ice.

“Great, you know what, I like that too. We have a common point, see?” he stops walking when you finish talking.

“You know, (y/n), i didn’t like all the changes you brought with you. Everything was new when you arrived in that box.” he says looking at you. “And you hate change, i get it. I’m sorry.” you say smiling again. You finally started to understand what kind of guy he was, he needed stability, and control.

“It’s not your fault, we made those adjustments for you and you turned out to be a Builder. I think it is- nice to have you with us.” wow, Gally was complementing you? That made you blush for a reason you ignored. You then started walking again towards the drinks. “I’m glad to work with you guys too. It’s tough for me but i try to stay positive and fit in, you know?” you confess to your new friend.

Maybe his drink convinced him you weren’t that annoying after all. He handed you a glass of whatever that was and you walked back to the others to sit down with them.

You relaxed a little bit and started making jokes, your coworkers were really dumb (most of them) but pretty funny and nice even though they were kind of onerous sometimes — as you are a girl and of course it means there are a lot of inappropriate jokes they’re allowed to make.

You knew Alby made it very clear no one was allowed to touch you, or go too far, so you felt safe with them. You knew teenagers like them wouldn’t hurt you, even the dumbest ones.

Surprisingly, you started laughing with Gally, he was actually chill in parties, unlike the bossy guy you knew at work and also in the glade in general. Maybe those nights were important to him because it was a traditional thing, you were staring at him as he told a story about Zart, that you never heard before.

You didn’t know why exactly but you needed to analyze his face, you liked the way his eyes moved and the way he smiled telling that anecdote. You bursted out laughing at the exact same time the other Builders did, he was a good storyteller.

When everybody started separately talking, you looked at Gally and spoke, pretty loudly so he could hear you “You’re a good storyteller” you smiled, he leaned over a bit, to hear you “What?” he asked smiling, you put your hand on his arm and got closer to his ear, you were more confident, you felt like you usually do when you’re with Next and Minho. “I said you’re a good storyteller” you chuckled slightly.

He pulled away and looked at you, he was smiling way more now that you guys had talked. Now that you knew he didn’t exactly hate you. “Really?” you nodded, and he stood up and you tilted your head slightly.

He held his hand out, you took his hand without hesitation and walked with him.

You walked in the Glade without really knowing where you wanted to go, you chuckled as you talked about the story he told.

“Did he really wake up with those drawings on his face?” “He really did, and he stayed like that the whole day.” he laughed.

You sat down together at the end of a tree, you were both a bit tired but you still wanted to talk.

“You’ve been here three years, right?” you say looking at the trees around you. The “moon”light made everything look peaceful in the Glade.

Gally nodded “Three years.” he said staring at a random tree. You looked at him “Do you think they’ll find a way out?” you ask, you still had the innocence of being here for three months, because you had no idea how it felt for them. This was the only home he’d ever known.

He shrugged, “I don’t think anything, I wait.” you looked down, you wondered everyday why you were all here, why you were the only girl, why didn’t you remember your life.

“Do you think we like, knew each other out of the Glade? In our other lives, i mean.” you look back at the trees, not noticing he had turned his head to look at you. “You think we were friends or something?” he asked then continued, “maybe we were like- high school enemies.”

You giggled and looked at him “I’m sorry but you must’ve been a bully.” he nodded chuckling “Alright alright i’ll give you that one. You must’ve been the girl that talked back to teachers but still had good grades.” you laughed at his statement, you had thought so many times about what your life could’ve been like outside the Glade.

Somehow, you always thought you used to know Gally. “I’m almost sure I knew you.” you say, looking in front of you, your two bodies sitting pretty close to each other. He turned his head to look at you. “Is that why you wanted to be my friend here?” he wondered, he’d always been curious about you, he just never admitted it.

You nodded then answered “I think…Maybe i was looking for comfort and landmarks. I thought maybe what i felt towards you was that research of something. Because i couldn’t let go of the past even if i didn’t remember anything.”

He was listening closely to every word you said, you didn’t think he’d want to understand you and genuinely listen. He nodded “So, i was like, a magnet and you were metal?” he said sounding surprisingly soft and warm.

You giggled slightly looking at him “Yeah, that’s it. That’s why i didn’t want you to hate me.” you smiled. He shook his head “I never hated you, i was just, scared, i guess.” you could hear the slight shake in his voice, because you paid so much attention to details.

You heard him say i guess and he was trying to make his fear seem like nothing, but it mattered to you. “I think, you had every right to be scared.” you said with a gentle tone, nodding your head slightly.

You kind of just, looked into each other’s eyes for a while, it was like there was some sort of connection between you, you felt seen. The real you, the one you didn’t even remember.

He leaned towards you, you stopped thinking, you stopped hearing the loud thoughts and worries in your mind, he carefully placed his huge hand on your face, you closed your eyes as he tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips against you.

That was both of y’all’s first kiss ever, which felt weird, you gently took his hand into yours as he kissed you. You quickly both heard Clint screaming as he was looking for you guys.

You both pulled away and bursted out laughing, you had no idea what all that was, but it was surely a new connection.

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thank you for reading me🩵

[aziraphales-library]

Any recommendations of fics where Crowley and Aziraphale are roommates/neighbours?

Here are some housemates and neighbours fics that I've read and loved...

Safe In Your Arms by AppleSeeds (T)

After moving out of his flat following a fire, Aziraphale moves in with Crowley, who turns out to be very lovely and seems determined to do anything he can to comfort Aziraphale when he finds out about the nightmares he's been having.

What Aziraphale Wants by mozbee (G)

“You could shower at my place, if you like,” Aziraphale says. He’s a step out of the lift before he realizes what he said. He quickly laughs, turning to face Crowley, to dismiss it as fast as it had come out, and sees he’s being stared at. “You mean that?” Crowley asks, an arm out to keep the lift doors from closing. Aziraphale fights off the threatening blush. It won’t do to have Crowley know he’s practically foaming at the mouth to have him spend more time with him. Because Crowley is his friend, his confidante. He can tell him anything. Except Crowley is also devastatingly handsome. --- Aziraphale is just being neighbourly, inviting Crowley over to use his shower while his bathroom is being remodelled. It has nothing to do with the pounding lust that fills him when he thinks of Crowley nude in his home. He's just being nice. Now if these pesky feelings would leave him alone...

Good Neighbours, Good Fences (and Other Misunderstandings) by out_there (E)

The first time Crowley meets his downstairs neighbour, Aziraphale is breaking into his flat. He's not what Crowley imagined in a burglar -- he's fussy, old-fashioned, and surprisingly adorable. Crowley is intrigued, Aziraphale is ready to share a good wine... and possibly more.

District of (un-)Certainty by jamgrl (M)

Aziraphale is a PhD student who needs a roommate so he can continue to afford his house in the U.S. capital of Washington D.C. Luckily, the family he tutors for on the side just happened to find him one! He doesn’t think he will like him much since he is in the states to work on Mr. Dowling’s senate campaign, so he’s probably a terrible person (even if he is good looking). Crowley is pretty independent and doesn’t really have a lot of what you would call “friends”. But he doesn’t mind his new roommate. He would much rather hang out with him than his coworkers, anyways. His roommate’s best friends Anathema and Newt aren’t too bad, either. It’s nice to have some friends. Maybe he likes it in D.C. --- They are millenials! But still British and still old fashioned- just a little twist on our favorite husbands.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Won't You be My Neighbor? by ProblematicPitch, Spiro (T)

When Mr. A. Z. Fell moves to the quiet English village of Tadfield, he expects nosy neighbors and inquiries into his eccentric, solitary life. What he doesn't anticipate is Anthony J. Crowley, the surly nuisance / next-door-neighbor, who might very well need a friend as much as he does.

And I'll just drop a quick link to the popular and oft-recommended Or Be Nice, because I know someone will mention it if I don't.

- Mod D

[nomoreusername]

No Matter What

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:Even though you struggle with eating, Newt is always there to support you.

Y/N isn't that good with eating. It's not as if she wants to be that way or for someone to notice. It's not as if it even makes her feel good about herself. Something in her head is just different. When she eats and how much always varies, no matter how hungry she actually is.

I didn't want her to eat alone though. Or even if she wasn't eating, I didn't want her to leave herself without the option. Or just be by herself while everyone else chats with their mates. It just doesn't sound fair.

She wasn't at dinner again which meant she was either not eating tonight or didn't want to eat in front of everyone. Even though nobody’s looking, her mind makes her think otherwise. It makes her so mean to herself and self conscious, both things she doesn't deserve to be.

I waited until it was confirmed that everyone had their meal. With my stew in my hand, I snuck past everyone. They’d live without me. Besides, as far as they know, Y/N and I are just alone because it's a convenient date. You do have to be creative with those here.

I’ll let them keep believing that. What's the point in correcting them? All that would do is embarrass her, and that's the last thing I want.

With my food still in hand, I headed towards the Deadheads. Of course, we never went too far out. Just enough to be out of sight and earshot and vice versa. It gives a false sense of complete privacy, but it's better than nothing.

Stepping over a log, I found her at the same place as always. On another log, leaning against a tree.

“Hey love,”I greeted, taking a spot beside her. With a small nod, she just stared at her barely touched bowl, a frown on her lips.

“How was your day?”I asked, figuring I would distract her.

“It was alright. One of the chickens got loose again,”She shrugged, her eyes a little less gloomy.

“I guess you have to tell the Bricknick’s to make a better fence. Maybe even the Builder’s,”I suggested, taking a few bites.

“If you wanna tell Gally something he did wasn't perfect, you do that,”She pointed out, seeming to absentmindedly do the same. Holding back a smile so she wouldn't realize what I was doing, I kept talking.

“What’s the worst he would do? That shank just throws Greenie's around and wins every circle. He’s still the biggest rule follower there is.”

“He’s strong though. And honestly, kind of intimidating when you first meet him,”She reasoned before taking another bite.

“So’s Alby. And Minho. And Winston, but that's probably a Slicer thing.”

“Don't be rude about the Slicer's. Winston is a perfectly nice guy,”She defended.

“I didn't say I didn't like Winston. I’m just pointing out that he's a little scary when he's hacking up the meat,”I clarified, taking another bite and watching as she copied my actions. By now she was halfway done. I just had to hold the conversation a little longer, which was never hard with her. I could talk to her forever and never get tired of it.

“Did Chuck try to pet it or catch it when he realized it was out?”

“We both tried to pet it. She didn't like that very much.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who doesn't want a different species to pet them?”

“Don't make it sound scary. I just want to give Melanie love.”

“You named the chicken now?”

“She's a sweet chicken, and she needed a name,”She insisted. Holding back a laugh, I took another bite before realizing I was done.

“If you say so, love. If you say so,”I nodded.

“Well, I do,”She said firmly, trying to do the same only for her spoon to scrape the bowl. With her eyes widening, she looked down to see that she had finished her meal.

“I knew you could do it,”I said gently, patting her knee. Putting her utensils down, she moved closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. Wrapping my arm around her, I traced circles on her shoulder.

“It's hard sometimes. Sometimes it feels fine, and sometimes it doesn't. So it’s always hard I guess. It's just that I don't know which way it’ll be when I wake up,”She whispered.

“It’ll get easier. It'll take time, but you're doing great. You’ve been doing really well, and I’m proud of you. I really am,”I promised, pressing a light kiss to her temple. When I pulled away, I rested my head on hers, closing my eyes as I savored her presence.

“I love you. I hope you know that,”She sighed, her voice getting quieter as she let out a yawn at the end.

“I do, and I love you too. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I’ll love you tomorrow,”I promised. Not saying anything back, she snuggled her face in the crook of my neck, her sudden exhaustion becoming more and more apparent. “Come on. You can sleep with me tonight,”I whispered, setting my bowl down to come get tomorrow and picking her up. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she rested her head on my chest. Looking down at her for a moment, I didn't bother to hide my small grin as I admired how peaceful and content she seemed in my arms.

I love her. No matter what goes through her head or what she struggles with, I love her. Nothing in this world could ever make me stop. Even if I was in a room with a thousand girls, she would always be the only one for me.

Struggling or not, sick or healthy, insecure or confident, quiet or loud, I will love her and everything that comes with her. That is one of the few things I am certain of, and I always will be.

So I’ll take her back to my hammock and hold her close while telling her just how perfect she truly is. Even if she isn't awake to hear it.

[melonsharks]

Tell us everything about the parent trap au immediately please please please

to give u an insanely quick rundown with a wip art i have:

aziraphale as elizabeth. wedding dress designer under his pen name A.Z. Fell. (hes an artist as confirmed in s2 and the whole "drawing on napkins" thing elizabeth would do appeals to me immensely)

crowley as nick. owns a vineyard. I NEED HIM TO OWN A VINEYARD SO BAD. shoutout to Old Vines on ao3 for changing me in a fundamental way. he makes wines and he tends to the vines and he is so passionate about it to an abusurdist degree. he yells at his vines when they arent growing right. you already knowwww.

when they meet for the first time, they don’t meet on a boat like in the movie, they actually meet at a wedding party :J crowley was a wine collector, just starting out. he loved offering aziraphale samplings of his most vintage collection out of impulse. (he likes seeing the way aziraphale savors them) (he’s besotted) Wants to own his own vineyard one day. aziraphale, on the other hand, has dreams of becoming a fashion designer of sorts, always drawing ideas on any scraps of paper he can find. his designs are very old fashioned, but thats like… part of the appeal. his work very much reflects who he is, and the people who flock to it understand that.

they enter this kind of… whirlwind relationship, they get married, and then eventually adopt two golden haired blue eyed baby boys. twins. :J warlock and adam.

they break things off because aziraphale leaves... alluding to their recent breakup in season two, the reason he left was because "we both clearly had very different ideas on where our lives were going. so. i packed up and left." (parallel s2 divorce 😋 they don’t know how to talk to each other) (aziraphale throws a book at his head after this argument, like the hairdryer in the movie LOL. it was pride and prejudice. crowley still has it.)

aziraphale leaves with adam. warlock is left with crowley. crowley eventually leaves London because he finds he cant stand being anywhere near Aziraphale (hes just irresistible in that way), and he goes to California where he finally fulfills his dream of owning a vineyard. a nice one on Napa, Northern California.

Aziraphale’s wedding dresses become more and more well known, Adam grows well-adjusted. Same kid you know from the show and book, natural born leader, a good head on his shoulders. (Aziraphale has no idea why Adam is like that, but he is so proud)

Crowley’s vineyard (The Garden Of Eden) grows and grows… Warlock is spoiled rotten, but he does love actually working at the vineyard with Crowley to and he and Crowley have a really good relationship…

Eventually the kids go to a summer camp together in London (i dont know if they . do this in the UK, but suspend your disbelief if you will) Adam meets The Them there, then meets Warlock after a nutty fencing thing, they kind of hate each other at first and the rest is history :J

side characters UM. LOL. idk……. i mean i kind of know but not really? theres just so many possibilities that make the rounds in my head. chessy could be anathema OR nina (ive had people suggest eric too?) and martin could be newt OR maggie (ive also had people suggest muriel????) gestures vaguely.

as for meredith…….erm…………🤷‍♂️ ive had everything under the sun suggested to me and i still……have no idea. LOL. gabriel, lucifer, shaX, FURFUR, THE WIFE FROM THE NON-SPOILER SPOILERS. I DONT KNOW. IT ALL FEELS WRONG. its hard to come up with this role in particular when these gay bitches literally only have eyes for each other. always. forever. u know. i think lucy is like. the classic answer. but idfk.

ask me about . more things if u want. this is consuming my every thought.

anyways the cover im working on for. for something:

[melodrama-ticcc]

— “ 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 ” ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐢𝐞

𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

𝙃𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

𝘈 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘛𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.

𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫. 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧.

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵐᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ. ⁱ.ᵉ. ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ⁱˡˡⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵐⁱˡᵈ ᵍᵒʳᵉ, ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ, ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ.

—

The drive from the countryside of Skiatook, Oklahoma to Newt, Texas was a ten hour trip, spanning the pastoral plaines of Oklahoma to the hilled grasslands of midwestern Texas. A sight to behold, surely, but even a blind man would grow bored of staring at the same image if it meant he was looking death in the face.

The summer sun baked the peeling paint off that ol’ 56’ pickup. Heat radiating from the build of its classic body to the cabin, where the broken air conditioning did little to improve their conditions of travel. Even the windows — half rolled down (enough to flick strands of hair astray in varying directions, but keep the sharp feel of the hot wind out of the eyes), did close to nothing to alleviate their discomfort.

All of it had been enough to further sour her perturbed feelings regarding the move. Sat in the passengers seat, she stared at endless grass hills, a blank expression resting on her pretty features. The sun shines in through the window, and she does her best to hide beneath the little shade her hand provides. The sun meets its peak in the sky as it moves westward. To inevitably kiss where those hills met the horizon. In many ways, the beauty of it all was quite remarkable. Peaceful, one might say.

Yet, Rebecca Payne only felt the urgency to conclude she and her father’s travels and settle into that reposeful farmhouse she would come to call home.

Surrounded by fifteen acres of fenced grasslands, the old farmhouse sat just a half mile off the main road of the highway. Shrouded by overgrown foliage, a dirt road leads to a set of warped wooden stairs, then, a porch that wraps around the left side of the place. The eaves provide plenty of shade, and a torn screen door serves as the front entrance of the home. She was sure it must’ve been a grand estate some once upon a time. Now, it was just a rickety old house that needed lots of fixing. She supposed there was something beautiful in it though, for it had the potential to be something great once more.

As dusk approaches, Rebecca slams shut the truck door. Slinging a tote over her shoulder, she hurries up the front steps. Her second footstep is met with the sound of a loud crack, the regrettable indication of the wood snapping. Her weight propels the leg through the broken board, and it nearly sends her face first into the top stair before she catches herself on the railing.

“Shit!” She lifts her foot slightly, as if to assess damages before she realizes the extent in the fragility of the old place.

“Now, you best watch yer’ language young lady, watch it for’ I ain’t wanna tell you ‘gain.” His voice is deep and rumbles, like the thunder rolling in as a summer storm approaches. Her father shuts the truck bed, bags in hand as he makes his way towards the house’s edifice. “Movers’ll be here in the mornin’, we best get some rest. We can unload tomorrow.”

His warning is met with skepticism, as she scoffs and moves toward front door. The screen is kept open, seeing as it swings freely in the gentle breeze. However, the solid wood door behind it is locked, so she raises her hand up in a careless motion.

“Ya’ got keys, daddy?”

“Now hold on.” He steps up after her, rustling in his pocket for the key. She moves to the side as he sticks it in the lock, pausing for a moment as he looks to her. “I know it ain’t much, but it’s home, and you aughtta’ be grateful for what we got, ya’ hear me? A home is a home, you’s and me can fix ‘er up but in the meantime, s’long s’we gots a roof over our heads and supper on the table, we doin’ just fine.”

“Oh daddy,” she smiles, maybe for the first time that day, and it’s charming. A pretty little smile bound to tickle the hearts of any man who saw her. It was no wonder her father loved her so damn much. “You know I can make anythin’ work. Jus’ needs a lil’ woman’s touch. I’ll take care of the inside, you take care of the outside.” She plants a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll have ‘er lookin’ like home in no time.”

The two days that followed had consisted of the typical unpacking and arranging of furniture that followed a new move. Far from complete, boxes of varying sizes, empty and full, scattered about the oak floors of the interior. Contrary to her expectations, the inside of the home had been in much better shape than the exterior. Not perfect by any means, but considerably better. It was nice in some ways, to have such a spacious home with ornate architecture. That which matched the stye of most farmhouses built in the 1800s.

There’s a knock at the door as Rebecca hunches over a hot open stove. Rather half heartedly she calls out for her father, however when met with no response, she proceeds to pull the meatloaf out of the oven and places it onto the stove top. Tossing the oven mitts on the counter, she moves to approach the door. From where she stands, she can see three figures standing behind the screen.

The gentleman on the right is carrying something. He’s older, she thinks. Probably in his fifties. His dark hair is combed over the top of his head, yet it’s clear he’s balding to some extent. His dress slacks are pulled up past his waist, and his dress shirt has some sort of red name tag that she can’t make out. He’s rather short, too. The woman on the left, while fair for her age, seems to be an older, more mature lady. Her dark hair is done up in some neat updo, and she wears a purple dress with some floral accents. There’s eye glasses with dark frames on her face, and she looks less than pleasant. The last figure had been a taller young man situated behind both of them. He seems her age, his hair is slicked back in grease and a stern expression is written on his handsome features. His tight jeans and torn black tank top tell her everything she needs to know, he’s no good.

“Hi.” She peers beyond the screen, as if to examine them and ensure they were somewhat trustworthy. Her eyes scan each of them, a hand kept on the door handle. “Can I help you folks?”

“Forgive us for showin’ up unannounced like this, it ain’t too often we find ourselves gettin’ new neighbors is all.” The older man speaks, a friendly smile on his face. “We’s the Sawyers. Our farmhouse is settled just up the main road here a little ways. I’m Drayton, this is Nancy, and this here is Johnny.” He lifts what he’s holding and shakes it gently. It sounds heavy, its contents something greasy that stains the thin paper bag. “It ain’t much, but we brought some barbecue as a house warmin’ gift. Thought we’d welcome you’s to Newt.”

“Awfully kind of you folks,” Rebecca extends their gratitude, swinging open the screen with her booted foot. That charming smile of hers meets their every gaze. “Comin’ all this way to say hello. My names Rebeccca Payne, y’all can call me Becca.”

Johnny thinks she’s something like the movie stars he sees on the television or on the covers of his pornographic magazines. Big blonde hair falling in effortless curls and waves, swooped bangs framing a finely carved face. High cheekbones, full, pouty lips, a button nose, bright blue eyes. Her skin is kissed by the sun, freckles scatter across the highs of her face and body, beauty marks adorning several sections of her tanned skin. He smiles, and perhaps for a moment he imagines what it would be like to have her tied up in his shed. A part of him wants to keep her as a pet, the other wonders what it would be like to carve into her like a he did those college students. But it’s her smooth southern drawl that removes him from his immoral conceptions.

“You’ve caught me just as I’ve finished supper, care to join us? Daddy’ll be pleased to meet you folks. We ain’t know we had neighbors ‘round here.”

“Well, ain’t you sweet.” The woman, Nancy, speaks, a motherly tone in her voice as she offers a kind smile. Its her first time expressing anything but that mean veil she donned.

“But ‘uh, we ain’t wanna impose or nothin’ . . . .” It’s said more to front niceties as opposed to genuine concern. After all, they had come here with the intent of getting to know who was next door just a little better. Watching from afar could only give them so much.

“Nonsense, y’all come on inside ‘n I’ll fix y’all’s a place at the table. ‘S the least I can do, now come on in.”

There were two rules to abide by when invited for dinner by a southern woman. The first, always compliment her cooking. The second was never turn down the invitation.

“S’pose it wouldn’t hurt nothin’.” Drayton easily caves into her offer, sending a look back the other two’s way.

Rebecca had the sort of southern hospitality that was reminiscent of a belle. In a way, it’s old fashioned. But there’s something about her new age appearance and haphazard attitude that makes her seem carefree. Like a bronco in the wild, nobody could tame or give her instruction. She was an unbridled mustang.

She’s stepping aside to let them all in, shutting and locking the door behind them. She makes a point to shield the shotgun leant up against the door frame as they enter. Not before moving ahead of the group and leading them to the dining table.

“Go ‘head and have a seat where you like. Daddy’ll be in shortly.” Without clemency, she begins fixing the table to accommodate the three guests. Placing napkins and proper silverware at each place. Shouting out the open window she calls for her father, “daddy! Suppers’ on, we got company!” There’s a freshly baked cherry pie sitting on the window sill, steam still emitting from its crispy golden edges. The smells of savory meat and sweet cherries intertwine, she’s a woman who knows how to cook. And for that, she’d win the hearts of many.

As Rebecca shifts to place a porcelain plate at each seat of the table, she moves on to set out their meal. First the creamy mashed potatoes, then the salty gravy, bacon infused green beans, and one hell of a meatloaf. All centered down the runner of the table. The table is set, and as she removes the oven mitts and apron from her person there’s a faint slam at the back door. Her father steps in, wearing a days work and covered muck and dirt. The girl smiles, grabbing the iced pitcher of sweet tea and filling up five glasses at the table.

“Daddy, these are the Sawyers. This is Drayton, Nancy and Johnny Sawyer. They’s our neighbors, live just up the road this way.” She places the pitcher back on the counter, “I hope you folks are hungry, all this food don’t do much good with just my daddy and I ‘round. Momma always said a meal tasted better when it was shared with others.” She carefully hands out the homemade sweet tea poured in crystal glasses, condensation dripping down the sides of each glass as the cold beverage faces the Texan heat.

“Names’ Raymond Payne, pleasure to meet you folks.” He takes his seat at the head of the table, and as Rebecca places a glass of sweet tea at his hand she leans down, a loving hand on his shoulder as she kisses his cheek.

“Love you daddy.” She whispers into his cheek, then takes the seat to his right side. Across the table from Nancy and Johnny, besides Drayton. “God is good, God is great, let’s eat.”

“You’ll have to excuse the rest of our family, we’d of loved to bring ‘em along to say hello but they can be rather . . . . preoccupied with work.” Nancy smiles, not before Raymond nods in a feeble attempt to acknowledge her.

“I ain’t know we had neighbors ‘round these parts.” As he begins digging into the food set on the table, Raymond eyes Drayton. He’s a friendly man. His rough hands and calloused skin a showcase of his life’s work. He’s no stranger to a tough job, and it’s evident in his wise tone that he knows a thing or two about life. Though his friendliness need not be mistaken, for he’s skeptical. A life of hardship had led him to become wary of strangers. All the same, he couldn’t help but feel proud at his daughter’s benevolence and cunning hostess skills. “How long y’all been livin’ out here? Recommend it?”

For a few moments there is a profound silence at the table, as their guests begin to make their own plates, Rebecca waits patiently to be the last to serve herself. Yet the lack of answers leads her to smile awkwardly, as if hoping to stir up the conversation. But finally, the old man beside her speaks.

“Well, you ain’t got many more of us. S’far as I’m aware there ain’t many others makin’ a livin’ out here in Muerto County. We’re always happy to meet a new friendly face, it don’t happen too much.” Drayton raises his glass as he sips from it, before continuing to answer Raymond’s inquiry. “It’s a quiet lil’ town, ain’t much goes on ‘round here. You’ll find it can be quite peaceful. If you enjoy the quiet of the countryside I reckon you’ds find yourselves at home here.”

The thought picks at Drayton’s brain like a fly on dung, yet he watches himself so as to not seem too upfront. He eyes Nancy, then Johnny boy, then back to Rebecca and Raymond. They’d only made their way over to determine whether or not these new neighbors were a threat, something to harm the family business. He didn’t need some strangers waltzing in and causing trouble. He was certain they couldn’t kill them, but the girl would make a fine piece of meat. At the same time, he really had no desire to kill them. If they could, he’d much rather have it they lived their own separate lives in peace. Not to mention the suspicion that would arise if they were to eradicate the Payne’s so suddenly. They’d just moved in, and as the only neighbor to the old farmhouse they’d be prime suspects in a missing persons case. Their sudden disappearance would be most unwise.

“So, where you folks from, what brings yuh’ out these parts?” Drayton smiles, beginning to dig into the serving of meatloaf he’d cut for himself.

“Business.” Raymond replies dryly, between a mouth full of food. But he chuckles, nodding his head towards Drayton in an endearing matter. “We’re from Tulsa, Oklahoma. Needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Tulsa was once a farmin’ town, not before they gentrified it all. Had some property out there, some land. We ran the cattle business with our very own slaughterhouse. Bank offered me a deal for the land I just couldn’t pass up and uh, well. We’s just cattle farmers lookin’ for a quiet life on the countryside’s all. A fresh start.” He nods, “say uh, what’s the Sawyer’s do for business, hm? How y’all makin’ yer’ livin’? I’m assumin’ you’ves got some farmland in these parts?”

“I reckon you’s right. Got lots of it. Looks like we in the same line of work, my friend.” Drayton smiles, “we owns a slaughterhouse. It’s a meat packin’ business. Say, you’s ever need any help you just holler my way. I don’t mind it one bit.” He smiles. “Family’s been in the business for years, my old grand father built it from the ground up. Used to take the hammers to the heifer’s heads. We know a thing or two about prime meat.”

Raymond laughs, coughing a bit as he leans back in his seat. “Say, I like you mister Drayton Sawyer.” He wipes the sweat from his forehead with a napkin, takes a sip from his glass and looks about the table. “You’s a good man. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.” He nods.

The way he stares at her pisses her off. Like he can see through her mask of sanity and pick apart her every secret. He’s staring, that Johnny boy, dark, brooding eyes from across the table. She’s got half a mind not to call him out on it right then and there, but for her father’s sake she keeps her mouth shut. Even then, she’s returning the favor; a cool gaze from her side of the table. Brows cocked downward in a scowl.

“That boy of yours, he don’t talk much do he?” Raymond flags his hand towards Johnny, pulling his gaze from her.

Perhaps what angers her even more is the way he pretends as though he’s doing nothing out of the ordinary.

“Nah but he sure do gotta starin’ problem.”

“Young lady-.”

“Oh don’t let his politeness fool you, he’s a talker alright. Ain’t ya’, Johnny?” Drayton laughs. A charming smile graces Johnny’s features as he looks to Raymond. Now he’s rising from his seat to stand up and offer his hand in a hand shake. Becca makes a note of the scars that riddle his strong arms as she folds her arms over her chest. Her father stands to meet him, his own right arm locking in a firm handshake while his left arm holds Johnny’s wrist.

“Johnny, nice to meet you son.”

“Not used to strangers sir, you’ll have to forgive me. Nice to have some new neighbors ‘round here though, you ever need help ‘round the place gimme a call.” He glances to Rebecca, a distasteful countenance on her mien. She looks like someone shit in her cheerios. “Same goes to you too darlin’, need summin’, don’t hesitate to gimme a call.” She wants to slap the stupid smile of his pretty face, but instead scoffs aloud.

“I can handle myself, thank you.”

The remainder of dinner was much of the same small talk and pleasantries. Nancy tried to make conversation with Rebecca — going on about being a housewife and proper manners, most likely because of her blatant disregard for her son’s generosity. Drayton laughed along with Raymond, as Johnny talked him up with stories of hunting wild animals and growing up in a small town. Humorous tales of reckless behavior as children, setting smoke bombs off in the creek or fetching rattlesnakes with bare hands. All the while she felt disgraced by the young man’s suave behavior. His smooth, deep voice echoing in her ears. It was a euphoric sound, tingling her innermost desires in such a fulfilling way. But she hated it. She never did care much for those frivolous boys who flaunted their good looks and tight jeans to break the hearts of naive women. Women like her, who knew his type all too well. Thems hearts were never loyal to just one.

Throughout the evening’s festivities, he made a point to watch Rebecca as if to study her. Only when she called him out on the matter did he especially brush it off as some insignificant coincidence. He talks her up like she’s some prize to be won. Each of his advances met with a cold shoulder and quick exit. Further reinforcing the initial impression of his character. A good-for-nothing heartthrob with an ego he wants stroked.

Even with her hands buried into the warm dishwater of the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of a tasty home cooked meal from porcelain plates and the sticky sweetness left behind by the sweet tea in fancy glasses, she found herself resentful of a man she had only just met. The thought and buildup of it all weighs heavily on her mind. She faces the window, dusk settling with brilliant hues of yellow, orange and pink. Then the pie, that she’d left to cool off in the window sill. Her eyes flash quickly as she calls out to the others, interrupting their seemingly amusing conversation to offer up desert.

“I almost forgot, I’ve got a fresh cherry pie baked. You folks like sweets?” Rebecca calls out, putting the last dish to dry as she wraps her wet hands in the towel hanging off the side of the sink. “I’ll get us some dishes.” She extends a smile to the group, primarily her father, as she fishes out small plates from the cupboard and silverware from the drawer. Setting them out on the table, she fetches a cutting knife from the counter, placing it beside the plates. Then, she carefully retrieves the pie, placing it on the table for all to see.

“Knew I smelt summin’ sweet walkin’ down the road, here lil’ lady, lemme cut this for ya’-”

“I can cut my own damn pie.” The change in tone is stark. What was once a pleasant, primarily gracious hostess was now filled with unrelenting anger and frustration. Like flipping a light switch, something had ignited the spark within her. Becca’s eyes glare something wicked into him. Her own hands are shaking, and though she hears her father call out for her in a low, monotone warning. It does little to shake the feeling that her control over her perfect fairytale is fleeting. “Give it here.” She gestures towards the knife.

Johnny, partly wanting to instigate a further reaction out of her, and partly due to the stern look Raymond was giving her, withheld the utensil. He feigns innocence, playing the part of the concerned stranger with excellence and finesse. He cautiously looks to her, his brows raised in suspicion. He knew better than anyone, she was in fact losing her grip. He found it amusing too, the way she stared at him with wild eyes. Waiting for him to cave to her will as if she were a threat to him. He wondered how far he could push her over the edge.

“Now now lil’ lady, all’s I’m doing is offerin’ a favor, best calm down now.”

“I can do it myself.” She mumbles beneath her breath, pupils diminishing with the dark light that came with the sunset. As the sun draws downward, dark shadows are cast over her expression. Sweat drips down the crest of her forehead, then the side of her nose and over the cusp of her lip. She’s shaking something scary, not before she moves swiftly to grasp the knife away from Johnny from across the table, fed up with his not listening. Just as she thinks she has it, she begins to grasp her fingers. Not before he draws the blade back, in an attempt to shield it from her.

Crimson taints the silver blade of the knife, painting the stained wood of the table a pretty red and even splattering the once faultless cherry pie. It drips from a laceration on her palm as she grasps it tightly with her right hand. The liquid oozes between her fingers despite efforts to slow it down. It continues to dribble down the length of her arm and drip onto the table below. It’s a sharp pain, stinging like hell. She doesn’t display any signs of pain, though. Instead, she stares curiously at the liquid. In a deep state of shock. Cerulean eyes wide with fear. Her shaking has come to a stop, and instead she stands still in her place. All sounds of those around her are drowned in the loudness of her consciousness. She sees blood, as it stains her hands for eternity. Visions of her deceased mother, in a pool of her own blood flood her mind. Thick and rich scarlet, all over the ivory curtains and painted walls. When she looks upwards to those around the table, only then does she realize what she’s done. It’s as if the switch had turned off and she realized she’s lost control of her temper.

They all stare at her with a dazed expression, confusion laced in their features, that with utter shock. Her father watches her cautiously, the feeling of disappointment clear in the way he calls out to her, reaching for her arm as he rises from his seat. But that which sticks out to her the most, was the look that bastard Johnny boy gave her. As opposed to rising with the others, he puts the knife on the table and finds his seat. Arms folded over his chest in a proud display. Those same dark eyes stare right through her, as if she were transparent. His features contorted in a wise smirk. One that indicates he knows something, or like he’s accomplished some great ordeal. She swears she can hear him chuckle, his husky voice at the forefront of her mind. He’s proud, she thinks. Because he knows something.

“Sorry y’all, now, where was we?”

As though nothing had ever happened at all, she picks the knife off of the table to cut a slice of pie. The sticky red of the cherry syrup pulls as she lifts it from the tin to place on a plate. A macabre display of delicious baked goods, blood falls down the side of the pie from the pool that sits atop it. It’s all over the treat, the slice, the table, the knife, still oozing from her wounded hand. She sits back down, plate in hand, before taking a chunk out of the tip of the slice with a fork to place in her mouth. A smile befalls her lips as she chews, it’s a warm aroma of sugary fruit and metallic. Perhaps the blood adds a little something. But it’s as though she’s trying to feign innocence, like there hadn’t been a some unfortunate incident. Like it was all normal.

She wasn’t crazy by any means, perhaps just a bit of a control freak. Her desire to provide the perfect image at the hand of her sacrifice of sanctity.

“Pie, anyone?”

[astro-in-prog]

I know this won't happen in Bridgerton S3 but.....

I REALLY REALLY want a scene where Colin is fencing with the other gentlemen of the ton and he's a bit distracted because he's starting to question why Pen's suitors are bothering him so much. (Bonus if they tease him about spending time with Pen or his S2 declaration)

Then, in walks one of Penelope's suitors (preferably the douchey-est option or Fife), and Colin asks for a match (he's telling himself that he just wants to see what this guy is made of) OR the suitor asks him for a match so he can boast about being beating a Bridgerton (which Colin sees right through).

They fence, the suitor seems pretty skilled and Colin's heart isn't in it and he isn't winning. But while they're talking the suitor either disrespects Pen with some comment OR declares that he is going to propose and it sends Colin's entire world SPINNING. We see his entire demeanor change from chill Colin to what did you just say about my wife best friend to Colin 'I AM GOING TO END YOU' Bridgerton.

Colin proceeds to then DESTROY HIM and his pride (Colin in S2 was not the best fencer but I would love for him to pull a 'didn't see that coming did you?' and show off his newly acquired skills). He beats this suitor SO well in fact that the ENTIRE TON hears about it. People like to pretend that its only the women that gossip but are you telling me that Colin Bridgerton kicking another dude's ass at fencing is not something the other gentlemen are going to spread all over the ton?

Bonus: Anthony and Benedict are also present and are absolutely stunned that their brother just humiliated another gentleman of the ton like that. They ask him about it and Colin says the suitor was being ungentlemanly and disrespecting Pen. He brushes it off and pretends like its no big deal because he was just doing his duty. Anthony and Ben share an eye roll and a very pointed look because of course this was about Pen.

The speculation in the ton is WILD with people saying Colin did it to defend Penelope so much so that even Pen hears about and has to write about it in LW (but she underplays it and when Colin reads LW he is offended LW thinks Penelope is not worth fighting over).

Even better if Pen calls him out about it because why is he going around basically dueling her suitors to defend her honour? He is not her husband and he is certainly not Lord Featherington (more foreshadowing) and Colin is just confused because our boy can't even imagine NOT defending the love of his life his bestie. It would add tension between them and force Colin to question why he reacted the way he did (love my dear Colin... IT'S LOVE).

It would work as great foreshadowing (as we know Bridgerton loves to do) for Polin - all the other suitors aren't considering Colin competition at the moment and underestimating him because of his comments last season but he's going to come out of nowhere and win over Penelope.

Do i just want to see Luke Newton fence again? YES I DO.

Am I coming up with extremely complicated ways to make it happen? YEP

Am i ashamed? NOPE

All the male leads have had a scene in the show where we see how frustrated/jealous they are (Simon boxing with Will and Anthony fencing with his brothers). The idea of Colin secretly having gotten better at fencing over the past year and destroying one of Pen's more douchey suitors would be EPIC. (I will watch this shit on repeat for years to come) And I JUST KNOW Newts will deliver with Colin's microexpressions going from calm and unbothered to pissed off to cocky and charming when he wins.

WHO DO I HAVE TO PAY TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN?😭

(since we probably won't get it I am working on writing a fic about this on AO3 --- coming soon!🥲)

[flock-talk]

I’m playing a game called “hormonal vs comfy” with my female conure bc she’s only one year old but is up to New And Suspicious things when cuddling like little noises and wing twitches but she also seems young for puberty so I’m on the fence lol.

How does one tell for sure if it’s comfy or hormonal with a conure?

I am also playing this game except it’s modified to “sassy fluff or going to launch across the room to attack me?” Where me and Newt have a standoff in the bird room as I desperately try to fill foragers without getting murdered

The biggest tell for Sus conure activities is usually their booty, if they’re lifting their tail up to wedge in to tight spaces and pressing that booty against anything it’s Horndog Moments. This can include sitting lower on perches and outright rubbing that cloaca on things.

Anything to do with dark cavities, sticking their head in them, being aggressive about them, being obsessive about finding a dark spot

In terms of if it’s comfy body language vs sus body language it is a bit of a learning curve for each individual bird. With Newt you can notice it’s a more disgruntled fluff where he may be gently vibrating his feathers and making raspier “grouchy” vocalizations. But all birds will have minute differences on how they present that. He’ll also do a screech and pluck a nearby object like cage bars or the ground if he’s more irritable bc of hormones

If some thing feels off to you it’s definitely best to redirect the behaviour than not. Having a solid recall cue and some easy activities nearby help to disengage them from whatever horny thing they’re doing and get their brain focused on something else. An easy thing to have on hand is twine balls stuffed with millet. They can crunch out some of that frustration and be motivated by the treats inside to keep going instead of zipping back to Inappropriate Things

[the-fiction-witch]

Married P1

Media TMR X Historical

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader (Kinda)

Rating Cute

I woke to the sweet sun and the sound of the birds singing outside my window, I jumped out of bed and ran to my wardrobe. I opened the wardrobe doors up wide and searched through my various clothes, I got my panties on, I jumped into my brown leather trousers, I shoved my feet into my brown boots, I grabbed one of my white shirts slipped it on, I shoved on my grey beige cotton dress as I knew I'd never get off the house without it, even if I had cut the skirt of the dress to the front was only six inches long and the back down to my knees, I threw on my leather corset and laced it up tightly. I put my hair in a braid and ran downstairs as I did, I bolted across the house as quickly as I could to the kitchen door. 

"My lady-" The maid Lillian said, as she stood at the table preparing for lunch already in her white and grey dress her hair pinned up by her little hairband, 

"Going out. Bye." I snapped as I bolted out the kitchen door,

"But my lady your father needs to see you!" she yelled as she followed me out the door,

"I'll see him when I get home!" I called back as I ran across the courtyard gravel into the stable, I ran to my horse Ester and quickly threw my saddle on her and got up, I kicked her with my boots and we both rode off out the stables and out the courtyard as Lillian ran out shouting my name. 

I ignored her as I headed across the vast green mores, I bounced on Ester's back as we rode through the grass, woods, and small stone roads at times leapt over small stone walls and wooden fences. Until I arrived at the little grey barn, I tied Ester up so she could drink.

I jumped down and went inside the barn, Immediately I saw the barn set up with small wooden pens where sheep sat with their lambs a few were yet to have their lambs so sat in wait for them to arrive. I spotted the figure in his brown trousers, boots, and dirty white shirt with his sleeves rolled up and various tools on his belt, He cleaned his hands in a bucket hung on the fences, dried them on his shirt and then ran a hand through his hair. 

"Did I miss it!" I yelled bolted over and wrapped my arms around him

"Ahh! Y/n!" Newt chuckled, "No, no you didn't miss it." He laughed as he pushed my hands off him and turned to face me and took my hands, "Sallianne hasn't had her Lamb," 

"Yay!" I smiled as I stood my boots on the bottom of the fence and my elbows on the top, I looked inside at the hay and straw and Sallianne the sheep lay as she waited for her lamb to arrive, her body a sweet and fluffy from yesterdays bath her little black curls. "I was so worried I missed it,"

"You know I'd come to get you as soon as she starts showing signs Y/n," he chuckled as he leant on the fence beside me, 

"But you shouldn't leave you need to be here for all the little lambs," 

"I have time to come up and tell you y/n," 

"Nope, you need to stay here. I like riding out every day," 

"If you're sure," he rolled his eyes, 

"Besides it gives Ester a ride out." I shrug, "And I get to see you,"

"You're dad still keeping you locked up," he raised an eyebrow, 

"Trying to," I sighed, "He needs to talk to me when I get home..."

"I take it you'll stay for dinner then?" He chuckled, 

"Can I?"

"Of course, you're always welcome to stay for dinner," he smiled, "you okay staying with the girls till I get back?"

"Course I shall be the most virulent of shepherd's assistants!" 

"Shepherd's Assistant? Uhh how about Sheep Watcher," He laughs, "Temporary Sheep Watcher." He warns, 

"Sheep Watcher!" I yelled excitedly, "I am the sheep watcher!"

"Yes, you are the sheep watcher," he laughed, "I'll be back in a bit and if you get bored Selina lost her lamb so she probably needs a good cuddle," 

"Awww poor Selina!" I cooed looking over to Selina's little pen where she lay, 

"Right see you in a bit, I'll be back with dinner," He smiled,

"Okay, Bye Newt!" I smiled

"Bye Y/n," He chuckled heading off out of the barn,

"Right, my first task of Sheep Watcher! Cuddles!" I bolted across the barn and hoped the fence into Selina's pen and cuddled the poor sheep, 

After a good day of helping Newt in the barn and assisting with the lambs and sheep, I headed home knowing I was going to be yelled at. I tied Ester in the stable in the sunset and headed inside seeing the house mostly prepared for everyone to head to bed, so I tried to sneak up the stairs to my room before I-

"Young Lady." My father's voice bombed through the hall, 

"Daddy!" I turned quickly and brushed some hay and dirt off my clothes, as he stood in his suit with his arms crossed, "Hello,"

He walked me to his office without a word and I knew I was going to get it, the fire burning as he leant on his desk, "Where may I ask have you been?" he glared,

"In my room. All day. I uhh just went down for a snack."

"Y/n don't lie to me." He warned, "I told Lillian I needed to see you, and then she came to me and told me you'd bolted off on Ester. So? Where have you been all day?"

"... Will you be mad?"

"I'm already mad so just tell me."

"...Out."

"Out where."

"...Helping in the Lambing barn with Newt." I answered sheepishly twisting my toes into the wooden floor, 

"Y/n!"

"What!?"

"Across the Moores! Down in some dirty Barn! dealing with livestock! with some shepherd's son!" He yelled, 

"I was just -"

"Such things are unbecoming of a young lady!" He yelled, "You are my daughter, you are the lady of this whole county, why must you insist on embarrassing our family!"

"How am I embarrassing anyone!?"

"What if someone saw you? Out dressed like that!" He said, "Riding across the Moores down to some peasant farm, think of the talk."

"Ohh for - Do you not trust me?"

"Trust you!" he yelled, "Y/n I barely know you anymore, how can you expect me to trust you? And then you go riding off, dressed like that, without a word where you're going, off to spend time in some lambing barn with a common boy! How am I to know to trust you? How am I even to know of your virtue,"

"My Virtue? do you really think so little of me?"

"Yes, I Do." He snapped, "How do I know what you have told me is not a lie? How am I to know that this... 'helping' in the lambing barn, doesn't really mean my little lady of a daughter hasn't been riding off to some dirty barn to be tossed in the hay like a common whore girl by this peasant boy!"

"Ohh for- no!" I yelled, "Like newt doesn't know you'd have his cock off before he even thought about it."

"So He's thought about it!" He screamed,

"No! I have no idea! who knows what newt thinks about!"

"You swear your virtue remains?"

"I swear." I nodded,

"Fine..." he sighed, "But this is to end, you are not to go riding off without a word, You are to wear proper clothes and you are to ask before you go out do you understand me?"

"Yes daddy,"

"Good. And ready yourself he'll be here in two weeks," He said going to sit in his chair,

"What? who?" I asked,

"Lord Janson. You are to be married as soon as he arrives."

"WHAT!" I screamed,

"Y/n! I will have no more about it! You are to be married! you have delayed it all long enough."

"But him! lord Janson! he's twice my age! and his home is weeks away!"

"I know..."

"I do not want to marry him!"

"You. Must. Marry." He yelled, "You must marry before your birthday. I do not give a rat's ass who to. But you will be married."

"But I-"

"So... either you marry lord Janson when he arrives. Or you bring me another man willing to marry you immediately."

"But dadd-"

"You may go."

"But this is-"

"You. May. Go. Y/n."

I huffed and marched out his office and back to my bedroom, 

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Maze runner chapter twenty-four

Previous chapter

Masterlist

The street was filled with people, all of them crowding towards the city entrance.

“That's it. That's our way in.” Thomas called back to you all.

“Thomas! This is not what you're looking for. All these people trying to find their way in, you think you're gonna find something they can't?” Jorge implored your friend, “we aren't exactly inconspicuous” he finished by pointing at Mai Mai. The nine foot tiger did stick out a bit.

“We Came this far. I'm not turning back now.” Thomas argued back.

What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” Frypan said as you're all jossaled toward the metal fence.

There are men in gas masks around with weapons and one in particular catches your attention. He keeps circling you all and speaking with the other masked men. Something about him felt familiar, the way he held his shoulders. The one that appeared as some kind of leader had rilled up the masses and they were all shouting and protesting about getting into the city.

“This doesn't feel right.” You catch Jorge saying to Thomas.

Newt feels your anxiety and rushes over to Thomas.

“Guys, we've gotta go now. Look” they all turn and see the masked man that is trying to push through the crowd towards you. Just as you're all about to start running there is a siren blast from the city and you turn the six giant missile launchers on either side of the gate twist and point directly at the crowd. Panic takes over the crowd and everyone is scrambling away as the the city begin taking fire.

You run as fast as you can, following Fry down a side alley between two broken buildings.

Coming through the other side you all run straight into the masked men. The one you had recognised grabbed your shoulders and basically threw you into the back of a van. To your surprise Mai Mai was calm and simply jumped in beside you. It was a short drive to wherever they were taking you but you all stayed silent. The masked man who had put you in the van had not gotten in with you, instead three others sat with you.

The vans stopped moving and the men got out pulling you along with them and surrounded you. Newt was at your side, pulling you into him. You hear shouting coming from the last van as it shakes. The doors fly open and two men come tumbling out before Jorge leaps onto one of them.

“Where is she, you son of a bitch?” he shouts.

“I'm right here. I'm right here!” Brenda rushes over to hand grabs his back. “ All right. Okay. I'm right here. I'm right here!” She repeated until he looked at her

“Oh, Brenda.” He grabbed her into him in a hug.

“Everybody relax. We're all on the same side here.” The man who had caught you called out.

“What do you mean same side? Who the hell are you?” Thomas asked. Mai Mai pushed past Thomas and rubbed her head into the man's waist. He stroked behind her ears and pulled off his mask.

“Hey, Greenie.” Your heart began to beat too fast.

“Gally?” His name tumbles from your lips.

There is a beat of silence before Thomas leaps at Gally and punches him in the face.

“No!” You shout

“No, wait!” Frypan calls. Newt grabbed at Thomas's shoulders and dragged him backward.

“Stop! It's all right!” Gally instructored the other men.

You rush past the others and throw your arms around Gally and he gladly hugs you too him.

“He killed Chuck.” Thomas panted. Mai Mai slowly walked between the boys.

“Yeah, I know. I remember. I was there too, all right?” Newt says.

“I also remember that he was stung and half out of his mind.” You scowl at Thomas.

“Just calm down. All right? Come on.” Thomas pushed back on Newt and walked away a little.

“Kind of had that coming. Anybody else? Fry? Newt? Y/n?” Gally asked looking down at you. You laughed and walked back over to Newt, who whilst looking directly at Gally slid his arm around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head.

“Do you know this guy?” Jorge asked.

“He was an old friend.” Frypan explained.

“How? How is this possible? We watched you die.” Newt asked.

“No, you left me to die, y/n was the only one who tried to… if we hadn't found you when we did, you'd be dead right now. What the hell are you doing here?” Gally asked.

“Minho. WICKED has him here. We're looking for a way in.” Newt says.

“I can help with that. Follow me.” Gally turns and you take a step forward but Newt pulls you back.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.” Thomas spits out.

“Suit yourself. But I can get you through those walls.”

You look around at the boys and shake your head.

“You're all idiots, show me Gally.” You say stepping over to him. Thomas made to argue but Mai Mai huffed at him before following you. The boys shrug at each other

“ After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city. They realised I was immune, patched me up, and they brought me here to Lawrence. This group's been at war with WICKED ever since they took control of the city. But WICKED can't hide behind those walls forever. Day's gonna come, and they're gonna pay.

“Wait, we saw you Gally, you were turning, how did you survive it?” You ask him.

“I dunno, just after I laid there for what felt like days the anger I was feeling just melted away.” He admitted.

“I'm really glad you're okay.” You say to him, making him smile down at you. Gally leant in a little closer to you.

“So Newt finally got the balls to ask you then?” He grinned and you glanced back at the boys following you. Newt drew his eyes in when he realised you were talking about him.

“Yeah I guess he did.” You giggle.

Stopping at a door Gally turned back to you all.

“Listen, uh, he doesn't get a lot of visitors. So, let me do the talking. All right? And try not to stare.” He explains. That made you nervous so you fell back slightly to stand between Newt and Thomas. Newt flinched slightly when you touched his arm though he tried to hide it.

Gally shows you into the darkened room. There are plants growing all around itm looking around you notice how it looks so homely compared to the rest of the place. Two men were standing at the far end. The smaller of the two appeared to have an IV bag attached to him.

“Rose took my nose, I suppose. Rose took my nose, I suppose. Suppose, suppose, took my nose...I suppose.” He spoke with a sing-songy voice. He turned at the sound of you all entering the room. His face was hidden in the shadows.

“Gally, glad to see you made it back. Jasper told me what happened.”

“It was a slaughter. There's nothing we could do against those guns.” Gally spoke solemnly. You knew you should be feeling sorry for the people that lost their lives but hearing Gally speak and be well just alive in front of you made you so happy.

“No, but they can only poke the hornet's nest so long before they get stung. Now, who are these people? Why are they here?” He finally stepped into the light and you saw his face. He was a crank or at least somewhere between crank and human. Where a nose must have once been was now an empty void to his skull. Glancing at the IV bag you realise it's the blue liquid that has been made so many times.in front of you. Thisan was living on borrowed time on an ineffective cure.

“We need to get into WICKED. Gally said you can get us through the walls.” Thomas said as respectfully as he could. The man rolled his eyes at Gally.

“Gally should know better than to make promises that he can't keep. Besides, that wall is only half your problem. Getting inside WICKED is impossible.” The man said shrugging is off.

“There might be a way now But it doesn't work without Thomas.” Gally admits.

“Is that so? Do you know what I am Thomas?” The man stepped closer to your friend, “I am a businessman which means that I don't take unnecessary risks. Why should I trust you?”

‘'Cause I can help you. You see, if you can get me through those walls...I can get you what you need.” Thomas said confidently.

“What is it that you think I need?” He tilted his head to the side so he could truly take in Thomas's eyes. Disgruntled with the man's closeness to her people Mai Mai took her place in front of you all, warning off anyone who would get too close.

“Time. Every last drop.” you say, his eyes train in on you.

“Is that what I need?” He smirked.

“WICKED has something we both want.” Thomas drew Lawrence's attention back to him.

“I'll tell you what. Two can go for now. The rest and the cat stay down here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you find your way back. We have a deal?” Lawrence holds out his deforming hand and though reluctant Thomas shakes it

“Gally, show him the way.”

Next chapter

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe @akilaporu001 @green-which

[afrenchaugurey]

Hi!

I realize I forgot to post here but I posted chapter 4 of my New Year's fic.

Summary : After a complicated moment, Newt finally mixes with the New Year party.

And the introduction scene

In the centre of the room, a large table sagged under the profusion of drinks, food and cutlery. Soft music came from nowhere, and would have bathed the area with a tender lullaby if it hadn’t been covered by all the other voices and noises. The chanting soapy bubbles had disappeared when Adeline had sat at the table, Evie replacing them by hovering oranges, pinecones and cinnamon sticks –mirrors of the tree’s decorations– that filled their noses with forest smells.

Evie had probably circled the dining space with Fencing Charms , as the dog and the puffskeins herd remained far from the food. The pre-dinner mini-sandwiches trays and drinks replenished automatically as soon as they emptied, offering enough provisions for a whole army.

“Snidget, you’re back! Come, and have a firewhisky!”

Theseus’s face had turned crimson, and Newt didn’t want to know how many glasses he had drunk already. Apparition or flight wouldn’t be an option to come back home for his brother that night; Newt would have to make sure of it.

“Snidget?” asked a woman Newt didn’t recognize, but whose cheeks gleamed as red as Theseus’s.

Her hair was like the plants frozen over the lake, a dark brown surrounded by white, and something in her gaze –traces of a complicated and heavy past, courage, and empowerment– reminded him of Tina.

“That was Newton’s nickname as a child, Sunshine,” Titania whispered in the other witch’s ear, before she wove their fingers and kissed her knuckles.

The woman’s eyes opened wide, and she stared at Newt who intensely looked at the ground.

“Of course! Snidget ! Newt Scamander! How could I have forgotten this!” she exclaimed, “I’m Poppy Sweeting.

Thank you for reading !

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Two|

•|Masterlist|•

Warning; mention of animal slaughter, DO NOT READ IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY THAT

Slowly regaining his consciousness, he opened his eyes, blinking a few times before rubbing them, getting rid of the dust sticking to his eyelashes. He stretches and yawns as he sits up, looking around and remembering that he got sent to the Glade, and he had work to do.

Glancing back, he saw all the hammocks and beds empty, his hearing picking up the sound of faint murmurs coming from the Homestead, mostly likely from the kitchen, it appeared to be morning so they were probably having breakfast.

He actually caught sight of a few Gladers walking out of the structure, and heading over to the Gardens, one of them was Newt, his (e/c) eyes directing themselves onto the barely noticeable limp on his left leg, he was only able to see it because it caught his attention, making him frown as he wondered what could've happened, but his thoughts were quickly dismissed as he saw the Slicers walking out too, thanks to Fry and Newt he had learned some people's faces and names the previous evening, which he was glad for.

Speaking of names, he's not sure if he should keep (M/n) as his name, it feels like it is his name but it also makes him question if it should be his name here too.

Well, no time to think about something so trivial and pointless as his name, he had a job he had to get to.

He swung his legs to one side of the hammock and picked up his boots, not bothering to change clothes again, he stood up and folded the sheet, lifting his bag back up on the hammock and ignored his empty stomach to head to the bathrooms, maybe he could try and wash his face and fix his hair a little bit.

Thankfully, there was no one inside when he walked in, which was nice since he wanted to avoid any awkward encounter with another Glader. He walked to the nearest sink and saw the toothpaste, noticing one resting on each sink, which made up five in total.

He grabbed it and put some on his finger, quickly rubbing it on his teeth before rinsing his finger and mouth, cleaning his face, and looking up at his shattered and dirty reflection in the mirror. His hands went up to his hair, wetting some locks of (h/c) hair, and he tried to fix it, but decided it was a lost cause and just left his hair be the messiest bedhead ever.

Walking out and dismissing the rumble in his stomach, he makes his way through all the beds and Fry sees him through the window, "Breakfast is ready!"

He turns toward Frypan, squinting at him under the bright light of the sun, before showing him a small smile and shaking his head no, turning back around and heading toward the barn. Fry stares dumbfounded at the greenie. Skipping meals isn't good, but there's not much he could do besides respect his wishes.

Right before he got close to the fence, Bark saw him approach, barking and jumping while wagging his tail, doing circles as he watched him walking in after getting through the fence. All of a sudden barking caught the attention of the Slicers inside the Blood House and the Gardeners who looked their way, curious.

Winston and Frankie got to the opened doors and looked outside, just in time to see Bark nudging the greenie with his head and licking his hand as his tail wagged, happier than ever, and even a few sheep had found their path toward him, nuzzling his arm and hips, asking for some love from this new human.

He chuckles and pats all the animals that get close to him, before having to walk inside, where a strong copper sent almost made him gag.

"So... What am I doing today?"

Winston made the greenie follow him toward a metal door in an adjacent room to the pens in the barn. The body of a hog laying on it, and when Winston grabbed his knife he sort of knew what was gonna happen.

He took a deep breath, soon realizing it was a bad idea when it burned his air passage and got stuck in his throat, making him cough.

The Keeper of the Slicers looked at him and beckoned for him to get closer, so he did. Winston mindlessly started sharpening his knife while he started explaining what they would be doing.

"We gotta hang this bad boy there," he looked toward the hooks on the ceiling where they were hanging, he nodded, "We open him and we eviscerate him, it's gonna get messy so..." Stopping for a moment, he reached his hand toward a wooden crate, grabbing an apron and boots, "Put this on."

He grabbed it and backed away, grabbing the four laces of it and tying them all together to the middle of his back, proceeding to put the boots on, whilst he did that, Winston continued sharpening various knives, and he wondered if they were gonna be using them all.

//////

The whole process was certainly... Difficult and a little stressing, but nothing he couldn't handle, he had managed to remain calm and collected, which Winston mentioned surprised him since many greenies quit before even getting splashed by some blood and intestines.

Now he was learning how to process a whole chicken, attentively watching Winston's movements and taking mental notes of his explanations before trying it by himself.

After doing a good job, as told by the Keeper, lunch break rang around the Glade, but he decided to stay behind, wanting to spend time with the animals around the barn.

"You're not comin', greenie?" Mike asked him and he hummed a negative response.

"I'm gonna... Stay here and feed everyone," he muttered avoiding as much eye contact as he could, Winston agreed and walked out after taking his apron and boots off, followed by the rest of the Slicers.

He sighed as he was left alone, and looked around, seeing the huge bags that read 'cows', 'hogs', 'chickens' and so on, and upon close inspection, he realized it was food. He reached the huge cans inside each of them and began placing food in all the recipients in the pens, filling their water as well using the hose.

Observing out of the barn, he saw and heard the rest of the boys enjoying their lunch and break time, but he went back inside, working on something else.

And since all the animals seemed to like him and trust in him, he used his time to gather chicken and turkey eggs, milked the cows, and noticed a few sheep with a lot of wool on them, and he decided to ask before doing anything, especially after he spotted the shears.

He ran out of the barn and jumped over the low fence, heading to the Homestead as he jogged, the air hitting his heated and sweaty skin, and he soon saw the Slicers all gathered up in a single table, coming to a halt in front of them.

"Winston," he called taking a few breaths through his mouth, "Is it okay if I shear the sheep?" The Keeper seemed slightly surprised at that, glancing at the others for a moment before nodding at the greenie, completely forgetting that they may not know how, "Thanks."

He turned around and started walking away, ignoring the comments about his body and how it "bounced", making him roll his eyes and huff.

"Greenie, you should eat," he heard Alby say to him, which made him look at the Leader of the Glade. He licked his lips and dismissed him.

"I'm okay," he announced before deciding to run away from everyone back to the barn instead of jogging.

"What a diligent, Greenbean," Winston mumbled watching his retreating figure, watching the greenie jump over the fence and go back in the Blood House.

"And careless too," Newt added when he overhead Winston. He had heard from Fry that the greenie had skipped breakfast and now he skipped lunch, he couldn't be feeling good, although he looked like he had energy to spare.

//////

By the time everyone was done with lunch, he had sheared five sheep, going by quickly with the next one after figuring out the best way to do it. And now they had a ton of thick and heavy wool. Nice.

The Slicers walked in and saw the greenie picking up sheep wool and placing them atop a table containing more wool. Two full buckets of milk and three small-to-medium baskets of chicken and turkey eggs right on the ground under it.

"Oh, I finished butchering the chickens," he announced walking back to the room, picking up containers with ice and whole raw chickens, "The hog is also..." He placed the containers down, and turned around, "Done."

Seeing everything the greenie had done so far... Winston realized they had the rest of the day free! Well, not entirely, they still had to help around the Glade with other jobs, but this was impressive.

"Here," carrying two heavy containers filled with pork meat, he stood in front of the Slicers, "Should we take this back to the Homestead?"

Snapping back from their stupor, Winston reached down to pick up the chickens, "Yeah-! Absolutely, greenbean. Let's go, everyone pick up something!"

With Winston in front, everyone followed him, hands full of food and cozy wool. The few Gladers still in the Homestead looked at them surprised, the Slicers had never worked so much in so little time, getting such a big amount of food for them, and the Cooks were rushing to grab everything to store it safely in the fridge and freezers they had.

The greenie gave the pork containers to Jack, who let out an 'oof' at the weight, making him panic before taking them back from him.

"Sorry! Should've warned you it's heavy," Jack scoffed at that, he wasn't gonna tell the greenie that he assumed it wasn't heavy because she- he was carrying them, it would've been a harder hit to his pride and he didn't want that, but before he could try and grab them again, Fry did, easily carrying them away into the kitchen.

The greenie turned around and made his way back to the barn, drying the blood and dirt off his hands on his apron, hanging it with the others, and taking his work boots off.

Stepping outside again, his eyes landed on the huge watchtower towering in the middle of the Glade, he thought about making his way up it, when he heard voices coming from the Deadheads. He made his way there with swift steps, seeing the Builders cutting branches off of a few trees, Gally walking around the perimeter and telling them what to do, followed by helping them in any way they needed.

He hesitated to ask, so he simply stood slightly behind Gally, observing closely the work the Builders were doing, and he wondered what it was for.

Of course, Gally realized this, his green eyes looking down at him as the greenie remained silent, "Need anything, greenie?" Gally watched him open his mouth but nothing came out.

He suddenly realize he wasn't sure how to ask what he wanted to ask, feeling his throat going dry, his hands shaking and his heart beating faster, a cold shiver running down his spine.

"Are you..." He swallowed quite loudly, keeping his eyes locked onto the trees but not really looking, "Gonna build something, Gally?"

Deciding to ignore the way his name sounded coming from the greenie's mouth, and dismissing the way his body involuntarily reacted, he crossed his arms over his chest, making (e/c) eyes glance at him, now appearing bigger and more intimidating, unknowingly making the greenie feel in awe at his towering height.

"Yeah, a room for you," fully turning his head to look at Gally, he opened his mouth to ask why, he thought sleeping with the others was gonna work out, but not a single sound came out past his lips, he chose to nod and kept quiet, seemingly defeated, which Gally noticed, "The boys have been making comments all day about you and... Your body, so Zart and Minho told me I should build something where you can be safe from shanks like Billy."

The thought of knowing his body was a topic for the rest of the guys to talk about didn't sit right in his gut, but also... Shank? Am I hearing foreign words? Although he was curious enough to want to ask Gally what it meant, he remained on topic.

"Well uh... Is there anything I could help with?" Gally's sight snapped back to him, a surprised expression on his face, one that almost made him panic for asking, "I mean- you're doing this for me, it's the least I could do, right?" He added frantically, his words sounding quieter and less sure as he went on, "I just... Don't wanna be a bother," he added as he shifted his sight down to the grass, kicking a small rock near his foot.

Gally sighed and looked at everyone still working on the trees, before deciding to call in a small break, watching how they hurried to drink some water and wet their sweaty faces.

"If you wanna help..." The greenie looked out of the corner of his eye as Gally reached for his utility belt and held a white paper, although it seemed thicker than regular paper. He unrolled it and showed it to him, "Where do you want it?"

He observed the room sketch Gally had mapped, it was simple and it didn't seem like it would take too long, at least not as long as the rest of the structures took for them to finish. He glanced up at Gally and smiled, walking past the tree line, and of course Gally was following close behind.

They walked for a bit, until his eyes caught sight of four trees that made up some sort of angled square, and they were spaced apart enough for the room to be small but comfortable and livable. He looked slightly up, noticing the lower branches had been cut a while ago, roughly two months ago, so they were barely noticeable. He really liked this spot, but still, he decided to ask.

"Is this a good spot?" Gally stopped and stared at the greenie standing in front of the trees, his head tilted back to look upward. He could almost fully visualize what the room fully built would look like, and he slowly nodded a few times, humming as he looked around the place.

It was far enough from the Slammer and the Homestead but a safe distance from the bathrooms and showers, so maybe this placement could work.

"Well, I've always wanted to build a treehouse," Gally added with a grin.

//////

After running back and informing Alby that he would be helping the Builders for the next few days, he found himself following every order Gally gave him. After giving the others their tasks, he had explained to him how this was gonna work out.

First, they needed to make the base, the foundations and make it as sturdy and stable as possible, he remained quiet and obediently did everything Gally told him to do, with absolutely no complaining, he didn't wanna cause problems for anyone, and the longer it passed, Gally was more convinced that the greenie could be a Builder.

He got strength, patience, obedience and, apparently was good with his hands and quick on his feet, helping other builders when they needed it, and Gally could picture this whole thing being built in less time than he had anticipated.

However, everyone needs breaks to regain their energy, something the greenie thought was pointless and a waste of valuable time, but they no longer had natural light, so there was no point in hammering blindly at random planks of wood, hoping they would get nailed together. So now, he was dragging the greenie as they headed to the kitchen after dinner was called, the end of another day approaching.

He was whining to Gally that he wasn't hungry at all, but his voice got a good chunk of the boys' attention, making him hide behind Gally, going completely silent as he gripped the back of his shirt tightly.

The sudden quietness and pull on his clothes surprised him, yet he quickly realized why, and showing a deep frown, he speaks up, "Go back to doin' the klunk you were doin'," he hollered and the ones that had gone quiet started talking again, keeping their conversations to the volume of a murmur like in the afternoon. He and Gally took the plates handed to them by Fry and Jim, walking toward the table where the rest of the builders had sat.

Guys around them watched them as they sat together, stealing furtive glances at him and making observations that he didn't like, but he simply ignored them, what they were saying was rather mild as he was within hearing range.

And he could only guess what they would say when he wasn't around to hear it.

The thought almost made him lose his appetite, but he was nudged by one the builders he's worked with most of the day, Mikah, he had dirty blond hair that roughly reached his chin, messy and undone curls framing his face, accompanied by bright blue eyes and sun-kissed skin. He remembers that he was almost as tall as Gally.

"Don't mind them, greenie, they're slintheads-" a loud voice interrupted him, and he recognized the voice as Billy's, "And they're jacked," he frowns slightly for a moment, confused at his use of words and what they mean, but the context they were said in helped him understand a little bit.

"Hey, slim it," Alby's voice was loud and clear toward the Baggers, and they quieted down with grumble, that's when he decided to turn back to his plate, taking a bite of the food and reaching his hand to grab some bread placed in a basket in the middle of the table. He took a deep breath after swallowing his food and grabbed his cup of water.

The Builders started talking amongst themselves, and he kept hearing some of these 'words', so he figured he'll ask around what they meant.

"Got a name yet?" Gally's voice next to him almost made him jump, yet he looked at him drinking the last bit of his water. He debated for a moment, contemplating telling him or not, but in the end, he shrugged, shaking his head no, "Hmm, it'll come to you eventually, greenie," he patted his back as he stood up, picking up his empty plate and cup.

He watched Gally as he piled his dish and left the kitchen, he was probably heading to bed now, he should do that too.

Standing up with his dirty dish, he started making his way past the tables, but he was stopped before he could get to the dish pile.

"Oh, greenie!" He came to a stop when he was called and turned to look at Newt, trying to ignore the heavy stares on him, again, "I've been told you don't have a place to sleep while your room is being built so," he began standing up from his seat, slowly, shifting his weight around on his leg, "Clint said you can sleep in the med room for a couple of nights till then," Newt walked around the table and in front of him, and he silently followed him after disposing of his dishes.

Even if he already knew his way to the med room, he let Newt guide him there, only their footsteps filling the silence.

"I asked the newbie to bring your bag here," he added when they walked through the open door, pointing toward the couch nearby, his bag, dirty clothes, and sheet were there, "There's a bathroom here as well if you need it, my room is as the end of the hall if you want anything, greenie."

He nodded and watched as Newt left, closing the door behind him.

Sighing through his nose, he filled his cheeks with air as he thought about what he should do, and then he looked down at himself, noticing the few paw prints on his calves, courtesy of Bark and he decided to wash up a little, change his clothes again, and probably wash them in the morning...

Or ask when the laundry had to be done.

//////

After thoroughly staining a towel with dirt and blood, he washed it the best he could using only water, and now he was sitting on one of the beds, resting against the headboard as he heard everyone outside, a small, defeated smile graced his face, enjoying the sound of the Gladers being happy and playing around, but feeling hurt at the thought that they won't ever see him as one of them.

A heavy feeling settled on his chest, and his eyes brimmed with tears, he took a deep breath before he began humming along the rhythm of a song. He couldn't remember the lyrics of it, but he remembered the beat and pace of it, his eyes closing as he continued humming peacefully, letting out a few 'ta ta ta ra' to fill in the parts where he could sort of recall words.

He was so lost in the music he was creating, that he didn't hear the small squeaking of a floorboard under someone's weight.

Stopping by the med room door, he stayed and listened, definitely recognizing the song the greenie was humming. He would've barged in and demanded answers, that's what his mind was telling him to do, question him about it, but... The warmth he felt in his chest made him sigh, deciding against it and instead, turning around and going back upstairs to his room.

He doubted he could get answers from the greenie anyway.

[headcanonandburn]

Harry Potter & Fantastic Beasts Characters Sexualities, Gender and Stance on LGBTQA+ Pepps

Fantastic Beasts:

Newt Scamader: Cisgender,Demisexual & Demiromantic

Bunty Broadacre: Cisgender, lesbian

Credance Barebone/Aurelius Dumbledore: Cisgender,Gay

Queenie Goldstein: Cisgender, straight ally

Porpetina Goldstain: Cisgender, Gray ace heteromantic

Jacob Kowawski: Cisgender,straight ally

Eulalie "Lally" Hicks: Cisgender,straight ally

Seraphina Picquery: Cisgender,straight Homophobe

Brutus Malfoy: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Gellert Grindelwald: Cisgender, He is Gay and you can't change my mind. Transphobe

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore: Cisgender, He is Gay and you can't change my mind. Transphobe.

Aberfooth Dumbledore: Cisgender,Straight....still on the fence if he is Transphobe or not

Nagini: Cisgender,straight ally

Minerva McGonagall: Cisgender,Demisexual & Demiromantic

Lord Voldemort's Era

Tom Marvolo Riddle: Cisgender (tbh if it weren't for him canonically hating his real name i would probably class him as trans MTF but...alas), Aroace Ally

Antonin Dolohov: Cisgender, Straight Transphobe

Corban Yaxley: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe & Transphobe

Mulciber Sr: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe & Transphobe

Rosier Sr: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Abraxas Malfoy: Cisgender, Gay with a severe case of internal homophobia that was never adressed. Only married a girl because he was forced to by his father.

Orion Black: Cisgender, Gay with a severe case of internal homophobia that was never adressed. Only married Walburga because he was forced to by his father.

Walburga Black: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Fenrir Greyback: Cisgender, Gay Pedophile Transphobe (if Lycantrophy= Aids as J*ke Rowlling claimed then you can't tell me that he is not a pedo. Besides i'm pretty sure he was, at least partly based on Little Red Riding Hood's werewolf wich, for those who don't know, was actually a representation of real life pedophiles who pray on little girls)

Rubeus Hagrid: Cisgender, Straight ally

Madame Maxine: Cisgender, Straight ally

Euphemia Potter: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Flemmont Potter: Cisgender,straight Ally

Charlus Potter: Cisgender,straight ally

Dorea Black: Cisgender, straight ally

Cygnus Black III : Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Druella Black (Nee Rosier): Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Molly Weasley's Era

Gideon Prewett: Cisgender,Pansexual

Fabian Prewett: Cisgender,Demisexual & Demiromantic

Molly Weasley: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Arthur Weasley: Cisgender, Straight...on the fence about LGBTQA+ peeps

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody: Cisgender, Aroace

Kingsley Shacklebolt: Cisgender,Demisexual & Demiromantic

Bellatrix Black Lestrange: Cisgender, Straight...not exactly an ally she just dosen't care for peeps gender or sexuality. Really as long as they are blood puritsts it's fine by her.

Rabastan Lestrange: Cisgender, Gay

Rodolphus Lestrange: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Dolores Jane Umbridge: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Rita Skeeter: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe (mainly thanks to the popular theory that Rita Skeeter= J*ke Rowlling. Though i do like the ship between her and Lucinda Talkalot)

Lucinda Talkalot: Cisgender,lesbian

Marauders Era

Mary Cattermole (Nee Macdonald ): Cisgender,straight ally

Dorcas Meadowes : Cisgender,Lesbian

Marlene McKinnon: Cisgender,Pansexual

Mulciber Jr: Cissgender, Bissexual & Biromantic

Crabbe Snr: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Nott Snr: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Igor Karkaroff: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Thorfinn Rowle: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Goyle Snr: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Evan Rosier: Cisgender, Ace homoromantic

Barty Crouch Jnr: Cisgender, Gay

Sirius Black: Genderfaun (i've seen people headcanon him as trans MTF or even genderfluid but...i'm sorry...No! He gives me the vibe of someone who, while perfectly confortable in wearing makeup would feel ashamed to be seen in a skirt or wearing red lipstick for exemple. Eyeliner, nail polish, body glitter, chopstick and black lipstick? That is fine. Anything beyond that? No! And since being genderfluid or MTF generally implies being confortable in female clothing it's safe to say that to me he is neither of those things) , Bissexual & Omniromantic with a preference towards males.

Remus Lupin: Cisgender, Demisexual & Demiromantic

James Potter: Cisgender, Pansexual & Pan romantic .

Regulus Black: Cisgender, He is Gay and you can't change my mind.

Severus Snape: Transgender FTM (though i do love cisgenderSev headcanons as well.i'm cool either way), Demisexual & Demiromantic

Peter Petigrew: Cisgender, Bisexual Pedophile Transphobe (He could have made sure that he stayed in his cage where it's not very confortable but at least appropriate or at least use his "owners" wand to turn into a human and sleep somewhere else but, no, he chose to sleep next to his "owners" on their bed wich like...BRO! )

Xenopilus Lovegood : transgender FTM, nebularomantic & demisexual

Pandora Lovegood : transgender MTF, nebularomantic & demisexual

Lucius Malfoy: Cisgender, Bissexual with a severe case of internal homophobia that was never adressed.

Narcissa Black Malfoy: Cisgender, straight ally

Andromeda Black: Cisgender, straight ally

Ted Tonks: Cisgender,straight ally

Gilderoy Lockhart: Cisgender, Straight Transphobe & Homophobe (i once said that i thought he was a pedo but i saw a better headcanon somewhere that states he only dates people who help his image (ie conventionally atractive women in his age range) ).

Alecto Carrow: Transgender MTF, Straight Homphobe

Amycus Carrow: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe

Augustus Rookwood: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe

Frank Longbottom: Cisgender,straight ally

Alice Fortescure (nee Longbottom): Cisgender,straight ally.

Cornelius Oswald Fudge: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe and Transphobe

Rufus Scrimgeour: Cisgender, Straight Homophobe

Charlie Weasley's Era

Charlie Weasley: Cisgender, omnisexual & Omniromantic with a preference towards males.

Nymphadora Tonks: Gender nonconforming (i have seen people headcaning her as genderfluid wich i would be more than fine with IF the reasons for said headcanon didn't boil down to "they are a metamorphamagus who hates their birth name" i mean... Seriously?! while it's true that there can be shapeshifters who are genderfluid (Ie Loki from Thor) not all shapeshifters HAVE to be genderfluid and its perfectly possible to be cisgender and hate your birth name (ie me, one of my cousins and a shit ton of people out there) though if someone ever gives me other reasons for that i may change my mind) , Pansexual & Panromantic

Bill Weasley (i know he is older than Charlie i just didn't know were else to put him): Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Golden Trio Era

Percy Weasley : Cisgender, Gay with a severe case of internal homophobia caused by Molly. only dated & married chicks to please his mom.

Fred & George Weasley: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Neville Longbotoom: Cisgender, Demisexual & Demiromantic

Luna Lovegood: Cisgender, Gray ace & Demiromantic

Ron Weasley: Cisgender (i do love the trans ron headcanon's specially considering is weird as heck that Ginny was the only female in the family but...let's be real with him being one of the main characters as well as a Self-Insert of J*ke's childhood crush/best friend and me headcanoning Molly as transphobe it wouldn't fly), Bissexual with with a severe case of internal homophobia caused by Molly.

Padma Patil: Cisgender,Lesbian

Parvati Patil: Cisgender, straight ally

Pansy Parkinson: Cisgender, Bisexual with internal homophobia caused by her parents. Omniromantic with a preference towards males

Blaise Zabini: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromatic.

Theodore Nott: Cisgender, Demisexual & homoromantic

Hermione Jean Granger: Cisgender,straight ally (i know she is canonically confirmed to be J*ke Rowlling's self insert but honestly....Her?a Homophobe and Transphobe? NO! it would be hipocritical at best like....She will go on a passionate crusade for blood equality and for a better treatment of house elfs but the second a transgender, homosexual and/or homoromantic person crosses her way, she bashes them? I mean, get real: we all know that Transgender,homosexual and/or homoromantic peeps are as marginalized and mistreated as the elfs she so pationally defends and, like any muggle or muggleborn they didn't chose to be born that way. Being a homophobe and transphobe while defending the causes she does would be stupidity and Hermione, as we know, is not stupid)

Harry James Potter: Cisgender (though i love to read transHarry Potter fics but...let's be real: there's no way J*ke rowling would ever make her protagonist transgender,specially since he is the Self-Insert of her dream Husband as ig was canonically confirmed. though if Harry was actually a trans woman, i believe she would choose to name herself Lily, like her mom since Harry does seem to be more inclined to choose names that pay homage to the dead or people he cares about).....tbh still unsure if he is bi,omni or gay but he is definetly not straight, demi,aro or ace.

Draco Malfoy : Cisgender, i'm also unsure if he is bi,omni or gay but he is definetly not straight, demi,aro or ace.

Vincent Crabbe: Cisgender, He is Gay and you can't change my mind.

Gregory Goyle: Cisgender,He is Gay and you can't change my mind.

Millecent Bulstrode: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Tracey Davies: Cisgender,aroace

Astoria Greengrass: Cisgender, Demisexual & Demiromantic

Daphne Greengrass: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Astoria Greengrass: Cisgender, Gray ace & Demiromantic

Hannah Abbot: Cisgender,straight Ally

Susan Bones: Cisgender,straight Ally (My otp for Ron is either her or Hannah Abbot)

Rolf Scamander: Cisgender, Demisexual & Demiromantic

Victor Krum: Cisgender, omnissexual & omniromantic with a preference towards females.

Fleur Delacour: Cisgender, Heterosexual demiromentic

Cedric Digorry: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Cho Chang: Cisgender,straight ally

Lee Jordan: Cisgender,straight ally

Angelina Johnson: Cisgender,straight ally

Katie Bell: Cisgender, Bissexual & Biromantic

Alicia Spinnet: Cisgender,Aroace

Ginny Weasley: Cisgender,ominisexual & ominiromantic with a preference towards males.

Gabrielle Delacour: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Colin Creevy: Cisgender,He is Gay and you can't change my mind.

Denis Creevy: Cisgender, Straight Ally

Lavander Brown: Cisgender, Bissexual & ominiromantic with a preference for males.

Hestia Carrow: Cisgender, aroace

Flora Carrow: Cisgender,Gray aroace

Luna Lovegood : Cisgender, Panromantic Gray ace

Neville Longbottom : Cisgender, demisexual & demiromantic

Next Gen Era:

Teddy Lupin: Nonbinary, Pansexual & Panromantic

James Sirius Potter: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Albus Severus Potter (who i would rename as Remus Severus Potter, Cedric Severus Potter, George Severus Potter or Neville Severus Potter.... Or..... Pretty much any name besides Albus ) : Cisgender,He is Gay and you can't change my mind.

Lily Luna Potter: Cisgender,straight ally

Lysander Scamander: Transgender FTM,Gay

Lorcan Scamander: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Victorie Delacour: Cisgender,straight ally

Louis Delacour: Cisgender,bissexual & biromantic

Dominique Delacour: Transgender MTF,Lesbian

Hugo Weasley: Cisgender, Pansexual & Panromantic

Rose Weasley: Cisgender,straight homophobe

Delphini Riddle (who i headcanon is actually Delphini Rokwood): Cisgender,aroace homophobe & transphobe

Frank Longbottom II: Cisgender,demisexual & demiromantic

Alice Longbottom II: Cisgender, straight ally.

....aaaaand...that's it.