credence..!

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we're not kids anymore.

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@morningless
credence..!
to everyone who’s ever said something kind about my work: you help me get through the day. thank you.
(this is for u guys)
The Ocean Between: Chapter 3
read it here at the ao3!
in this update: another hogsmeade date, CATS, percival has a sweet tooth, and quidditch games
Percival joins Newt for breakfast the next day, taking the spot across from him with a quiet greeting. His arm is newly bandaged and in a sling, and there's a patch across his cheek as well. It's hard to avoid noticing the swathe of students staring at Percival admiringly. Evidently, word of their exploits (greatly exaggerated) had spread throughout the school overnight. Some of the students are even looking at Newt, which makes him nervous.
They eat in relative quiet for a few moments before Percival clears his throat, causing Newt to look up.
"I was thinking...if you're free, next Hogsmeade weekend - would you come with me to the animal shop?" He looks nervous, strangely enough, but meets Newt's eyes squarely. "I thought about it and I'd like to get a cat."
"Of course I'll come with you." Newt says, delighted, and Percival grins back, relieved.
Animated posters // (click to enlarge)
General Graves: Star Wars AU uniform design
(General Graves: Star Wars AU)
yes please
Because Suck it off, Tom Holland, I WON!
The best morning ever guys *_*
Kiss! by DakotaLIAR
OMGGGG
instylemagazine: Sorry, Nancy… Steve and Jonathan are a bit preoccupied 💁
YASSSS
Harry & Draco in the Ministry of Magic - by Jass
art that inspires
“Let me be your armor, Newt”
Percival Graves x Newt Scamander Mood Board
[[please do not edit, repost, remove caption]] [[please do not tag as kin, me, etc, thank you!]]
chapter two of “The Ocean Between” is up!
read it here at the ao3 :)
in this chapter: Leta makes her first appearance, the boys get their HOGSMEADE DATE on and Newt is perpetually misunderstanding things this precious bb
Percival's still grinning when they come across a little side street where students are crowded in especially high number.
"What's here?" He asks, craning his neck over the crowd.
"Oh, that's Madam Puddifoot's." Newt says, and he feels his cheeks flush for some reason. "People like to go there as couples. On dates.”
someone save me from newt scamander
Newt and Niffler
this newt is def my headcanon for “The Ocean Between” ahhh
“The thing about Colin that I feel compelled to talk about is his intelligence because it’s really, really staggering. I’m deeply impressed by that man’s brain. When we do interviews together, I usually stay quiet and try to look pretty.”
i may ship ezra and colin more than i ship gradence at this point
reincarnation!fic
when you were once unknown (newt x percival, 878 words)
At first he is just a boy, and you care not for what makes him distinct from the other humans. Your eyes are keen, but you do not notice that his eyes are as vibrant as new spring grass or that his freckles dot his face like stars. All you know is that this boy is in your cave, and you must protect your treasure. Such is the nature of dragons.
But he does not do anything except lay a small goat at the entrance before fleeing. You sense no wrongdoing, so you eat it. At the time, you do not wonder how he might have known that your mate had died the previous winter, and that you had difficult hunting as she had. You do not know how long he has watched you.
He starts to come almost every day after that, and you let him, amused by this small creature who brings you food, who is barely bigger than the animals he brings. He does not even glance at your treasure, only stares up at you with what you learn to be wonder. You let him creep closer. You let him touch. And you listen, when he speaks in the quiet of the sunset, even though only half the words of humans make sense to you.
He tells you of fear, of looming war. He tells you of a longing to fly as you do, far away from his little village on the mountainside. He tells you about a girl more beautiful than any sunrise, and how it's the prospect of seeing her smile that makes him stay.
You unfold one wing and use it to bring him closer. He feels like a cool rock against your side. The boy sighs, and you wonder when he has become a man.
He asks if you hate humans, and maybe once you did, for humans destroy more than they give, have slaughtered your parents for the sole crime of causing fear. But you cannot hate this boy, who teaches you about the good things his kind can make. He brings a flute and plays a song that makes something in your blood rise and sway. He tells you stories, the lore of his people, and there is a touch of a smile in his voice whenever they involve dragons.
But most of all he teaches you how to see a human for all of the good they can be: the way a father holds his daughter, a child's sweet innocence, how people will help others in need without asking anything in return - like a boy and a starving dragon.
Then one day, the boy is gone.
You wait for him for a week before you venture outside your cave and see the smolders of his village. The war has finally reached your mountain, and most likely, him as well.
Such is the nature of humans. They live, they end, they begin again, ready to continue on in their destructive ways. You should not mourn the death of one.
Yet you do. You mourn him for years to come, your cries shaking the skies as you search for a glimpse of your human in the greenery down below. Your cave lies empty in your last days, for there is no gold that would have gleamed as brightly as his eyes, no gem that would have shimmered as beautifully as his laugh.
All you want, in the end, is to hear his soft voice again, to feel his hand on your scales.
Many, many years later you will find him again. Or rather, he will find you, be the one to draw your limp body from the ashes of your prison, restore you to your rightful place amongst your friends and coworkers. (Like before, you have no family to speak of.) He will linger, unable to let you be. Perhaps he senses the wild creature you once were - or the one you had half-become in your captivity.
After a year, you will find that you are unable to let him go. This strange man, who does not know how to make friends but manages to gather a constellation of people willing to go to any length for him, who puts the life of a single creature before his own, who does not meet your eyes but will look at your scars more openly than anyone else. You cannot help but think there is something familiar about the way his eyes glow after you kiss him for the first time, but that cannot be true, because there has never been someone like Newt Scamander. Not in your lifetime.
And when that lifetime ends, and another begins, the dice will roll again. Perhaps he will be a woman this time. Perhaps you will have blond hair. You might meet as round-faced children, or as wizened old men. All the possibilities, but always just the two of you. Learning to care, to treasure the smallest moments, to find those things that transcend time and death and anything you could have ever known: his laugh, the outline of his long fingers in the moonlight, the feeling of his body slotted against yours.
Such is the nature of love, yours.
Lets start the year with some Gramander:D
Dedicated to @manic-intent your Gramander fics are giving me fuzzies I love how affectionate they are to each other > u <