#Newt's Novelties

[synthapostate]

I’m sitting in the break room waiting for my shift to start, writing fic, pausing to do some research and hoping none of my coworkers come in and ask why I appear to be shopping for a sexy Sasquatch calendar. Like, I could explain, but it would take a long time and I have work to do.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

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It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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[jakowskis]

Day 1 - How did you first get into Torchwood?

fdhkf ok ok so basically. i do not remember exactly what happened. this happens to me often like i can never remember what i came across that first got me into the media. with torchwood i at least know it was the fact that everyone was bi, but i dont rmr if i saw a post about it, or if i was fucking around on tvtropes or something - i legit cannot remember. i remember seeing a gifset of gay torchwood kisses p early on, but i dont think that was like the inciting incident? that mighta come about when i was doing research into the alleged fruitiness FHSJDFKDS. i do know i've been aware of jack as a character for at least a decade, like i'd heard of the harkness test + i was aware that he was 'that slutty doctor who guy', and also, coincidentally, in the fandom i was in in 2015, someone wrote a crossover fic where my fav slept with jack and ianto and i read it 😭 had no idea who they were, i hopefully at least googled them but fhsdjkf. but anyway i was like 'ooh a show with an all bisexual cast? color me intrigued.' i'd never touched dw either, i had friends who liked it when i was in middle school but i always saw it as kinda dorky fhsdkj (namely cuz my friends were dorks), but yeah, i was reeled in by the concept of sci-fi bisexuals. but not fully! it was in like 'yeah ill put that on my watchlist and get around to it in 2 yrs' territory

but then, as im looking into it, i realize owen's played by burn gorman, who i only knew from pac rim, which i'd fixated on briefly in 2018, riiiight before pru came out. my pr fixation p much revolved entirely around newt; i liked newmann, but i didn't get super into it. hermann himself was kind of an afterthought, i wasn't big on him at the time. anyway i saw owen and recognized hermann's actor, and my initial reaction was like "WHAT DO U MEAN HERMANN FUCKING GOTTLIEB'S IN THE SLUTTY BISEXUAL SHOW??? THIS I MUST SEE! HERMANN GOTTLIEB KISS MEN REAL NOT CLICKBAIT?!?!?!!??" and that was literally the thing that made me watch it. LAWL and the first few eps were so damn jarring bc i continued to just associate owen with hermann initially. and worse yet, ive now developed a hefty crush on burn himself lmao, i think he's gorg and ive watched a lot of his stuff, but before i got into torchwood i only knew him from PR and i didnt find hermann attractive or even rlly compelling in the slightest (this has changed significantly; im in my hermann era as a pr fan. newt who). so it was also a lot of "WTF WHY IS HE HOT??? HUH???? DUDE NO WAY." it's since lost its novelty, but it was very jarring + amusing to me at first, trying to reconcile owen n hermann. its like if u ran into ur frumpy weird professor at leather night and he was the twink of ur dreams FDSKJFHDSKJFDSK

yeah so then i watched the show and it fucking smacked me over the head with a shovel bc its so fucking bad but its so fucking good. and very quickly my view of owen went from "wait a mf second why is not-hermann kind of 🫦 hiii mean slutty hermann hiii" to "wait. oh hes fucked up. oh hes sad. oh no i love him" to him being my third favorite character of all time. fff. but more on that tomorrow! hehehehe

[driftwithme]

Imagine Hermann and Newton giving classes to their K-Science recruits.

They all have to wear patches that identify them either as Gottlieb or Geiszler students, for their sanity and safety. Mainly because Newt's assistants are completely banned from most places given Newt tendency of asking them to do illegal things like they are his evil minions.

They are even flirting with the pilot cadets and trying to rope them into their hella weird experiments. Chuck, who is now responsible for the cadets, has had at least four separate screaming matches with Newton about it.

In turn, Hermann's assistants treat Mako like an older or little cousin. He's reminds them all the time to please not bother Miss Mori if it can avoided. She finds it flattering that they admire her so much, but she does have her own group of j-tech recruits to worry about, now that she's leading the design and build of new jaegers.

Herc holds one or two meetings with them each month. Since they are starting again, he needs to decide who gets which part of the founding, so it becomes an constant battle of who's research is more urgent or useful or whatever. He can't even send his assistant for those meetings. He doesn't trust the man would know the danger for what it is and not play it as exaggeration.

Tendo is temporarily in leave, spending time with his family. He works some weeks and those are full of reminding people to present Dr. Gottlieb, Dr. Geiszler and their assistances with the most accurate reports and info. The scientists won't say it but they miss Tendo!!! There was no one better at LOCCENT when it came to efficient readings and relying only the most important information. Tendo finds it unnerving lol, but cute.

Finally, there's Raleigh. Within the first three weeks, the novelty wears off. The assistants stop marvelling at him and start to notice all they could help with. After Pitfall, he needs a lot of support to do the daily stuff. Newton is trying to find something on the kaiju DNA to help him recover his health or at least slow the damage. Newton leads the project along with the new research branch of the medical division and given that Herc has assign it to top priority (meaning most money/founding), Newt has some of his assistants working on it with him. They are all bright and almost too eager to help. Prosthetics prototypes based on the neural-handshake (project they lead along some of the j-tech division on the drift study branch). Constant investigations trying to decipher how the precursors cloned their kaijus so maybe they can clone human body parts too (along with the medical division). "Natural medicine" properties of harvested parts of kaijus, based on all Newt saw on the Hannibal Chau store. And it keeps going!

Raleigh becomes a regular on the lad and on the medical bay, the same as Chuck.

Hermann makes fucking sure to orientate all the assistants over how to properly treat a person with disabilities the first day of work. He knows ('cause he saw it with Newt) that Raleigh has the patience of a saint. And he knows too that Chuck would probably swing at anyone, not matter the number of degrees or doctorates. Hermann just wants a proper work environment, okay? Professionalism.

Newt does it too some tine later. He casually threatens them and reminds that if they fuck around with either his or Dr. Gottlieb research *inserts him something he thinks Hannibal Chau would say because he thinks it sounds cool and delivers the message*. He shoots that comment with the most manic look on his face, btw. They joke about it with Raleigh and because he is a bit of an ass, he goes: "haha yeah better be careful with them haha, you never know what changed in them after they drifted with that kaiju".

I just think it'd be a great great thing to have a bunch of scientists on the Shatterdome for Hermann and Newton amusement and help. Restore the K-Science Division to his former glory lol.

[aquariuminfobureau]

Until the widespread promotion of a related African genus, which is also known as a clawed frog, the common or African clawed frog or toad, Xenopus laevis, was undoubtedly the commonest anuran in tbe aquarium trade, available in both normal wild and depigmented, domesticated color variants. The only other aquatic amphibians to share such popularity, were axolotls and fire bellied newts. Common clawed frogs are so popular in captive settings, because of their resilience and fecundity. Wild clawed frogs have a broad habitat tolerance, successfully adapting to environments that are highly modified by the hand of man. Though they seem to spawn only in lentic waters, they are present in streams. This species is able to move overland, although clumsily, between bodies of water, and burrows to avoid drying out during the dry season. Together with their high reproductive potential, because females of this species may deposit tbousands of eggs, these abilities contribute to its success. It also tolerates a wide swathe of temperatures, pH, and to a degree that is unusual for a frog, salinity. Under favorable conditions, this species in the wild can lay several clutches during the course of the wet season, which optimizes their survival through a good season. Mating takes place up to four times throughout the year, when the climate permits. Both the male and the female have different mating calls.

Common clawed frogs are a sexually dimorphic species, with male frogs about half the length of the females. Thus the males grow to around 5 to 10 centimeters or 2 to 4 inches long, and the females grow to 10 to 15 centimeters, or about 4 to 6 inches. The species shows adaptations towards benthic life and burrowing in soft substrates, with dorsally positioned eyes, and a squat phenotype, for which the members of genus Xenopus are also known as the platannas, a word of Afrikaans etymology that refers to their apoearance. By habit, X. laevis is not highly active, though it can swim powerfully in all directions. Typically inhabiting murky waters, this species detects moving objects, such as prey and predators, through subtle changes in the water pressure. It's own diet is wide and includes small prey, that are ingested using powers of suction, but also large items that are torn apart with assistance from their limbs. Although it has smooth skin, this amphibian species relies heavily upon atmospheric air for its oxygen supply. Because it aestivates for entire months out of the water, natural selection has ensured these frogs are efficient air breathers.

The ability to breathe air well was also favored by their associating with stagnant water bodies with low oxygen content. Though they may be found in streams, they avoid large river channels and appear excluded by predatory fishes, which are both competitors and predators. The biology of X. laevis is optimized therefore, for life in habitats these fish find too difficult, through seasonal drying, low dissolved oxygen levels, or the like.

The wild habitat of X. laevis was originally a swathe of southeastern sub-Saharan Africa, in tropical to Mediterranean climates, and most captive and naturalized frogs appear to originate from south of the Transvaal. Because it is widely traded and versatile, the human assisted translocation of this species has allowed it to colonise Eurasia and both of the Americas. This species was formerly traded often as juveniles, and they were bought by aquarists as novelties, not knowing their eventual size or feeding habits. People found the growing frogs, when placed in community tanks, began to consume community fish. Nowadays the related African genus Hymenochirus, which remains small as an adult frog, has overtaken X. laevis as the standard frog species in aquarium retail. But small X. laevis are still traded and sometimes confused with this genus, because both of them are clawed frogs

Xenopus and Hymenochirus belong to an ancient clade of frogs known as the pipids, or tongueless toads, that are endemic to South America and Africa. Formerly some very similar and closely related frogs, palaeobatrachids, were a part of European and Siberian faunas before their extinction during the Quarternary, when they failed to adapt to natural climate changes. Zoologists are unsure as to the relationships between living pipid genera, which vary wildly in their feeding ecology. Most frogs have conserved craniofacial form and function, and certain phenotypes seen in other carnivorous vertebrates, are absent from the frogs. For example none of them has a face like a crocodile or a pike, and the faces of frogs tend to remain recognizably similar. Pipids however include highly divergent suction feeding forms Adult Xenopus, with their broad spectrum of prey and feeding behaviors, are the most protomorphic of adult pipid morphs. All pipid tadpoles are suction feeders, and they do not have a life stage as herbivorous grazers.

Xenopus laevis are remarkable for their tolerance of pH values from 5 to 9, although they probably fare better where the pH is not at these extremes, and even a tolerance of salinity up to 8 or 9 ppt, or 25% seawater, which would be 1.005 in a specific gravity reading. Conversely they are adverse to metallic ions in their environment, such as those in medications containing copper. The temperatures encountered by these frogs vary by month, and their spawning is triggered when the water temperature has risen by 7 degrees centigrade The temperature of pools inhabited by wild Xenopus there, is 17 to 25 degrees centigrade in the months when they are most active. Temperatures above 35 degrees centigrade may be lethal to frogs raised at such temperatures. Because X. laevis also knows a cold season in the Cape, they have been acclimatized to aquarium temperatures as low as 8 degrees centigrade, and frogs that are used to cold temperatures should not suddenly be exposed to temperatures of 30 degrees, as this can be similarly fatal. These frogs are wary that predators might grab them from above, and they are greatly calmed by the presence of growing, floating plants, or of submerged decor, that they cannot destabilize, which forms caves and overhangs for their use. It should be noted that they avoid activity in bright light, so they will take shade by day.

X. laevis do not like strong water currents, and they are burrowers that can make a mess when they dig. They require a soft substrate for this natural behavior, which unfortunately can make the water turbid, and harm live plants. The frogs should not damage underwater epiphytes or floating vegetation, but they can harm plants that are rooted in the substrate. They are generalist carnivorous feeders, but typically consume small aquatic prey such as water snails and benthic midge larvae near the water bottom. Although they can and do consume larger nektonic prey, such as fish and amphibians, they do not pursue them into the water column. These frogs are also opportunistic scavengers, and they are well known to eat vertebrate carrion. So the food provided for X. laevis in the aquarium should this be meaty and lean, and they also take to consuming non-motile dried preparations, ideally sinking pellets. These animals are triggered to compete for food in a frenzy, when they are cohabited in a group, which also reduces stress. Therefore they eat better when housed together in small numbers, as long as they are not overcrowded, but the largest frogs must not be so much larger than the smaller frogs, that cannibalism might be possible. Each frog needs access to retreats created by decor, to avoid antagonistic tankmates. Small prey will be ingested by hungry X. laevis, as might slender animals if their heads or tails can fit into their mouths. Confrontations might also arise with other benthic species in the aquarium, so fish cohabitants must be too large to be prey, not compete with them vigorously for retreats, and ideally use a different region in the water aquarium than do the clawed frogs. Tankmates are not seen as food If they are 1/3 of the snout to vent length of the frog, and cannot be stuffed into its mouth.

[newtsnovelties]

[thehogwarts-chronicles]

Wizarding Schools Aesthetic

Castelobruxo School of Magic

Located deep in the jungles of Brazil, Castelbruxo stands as beautiful golden castle but only ruins to Muggle eyes. Almost as old as Hogwarts, South American students are especially skilled in Herbology and Magizoology.

[emma-d-klutz]

I disagree when fanfics say of Bruce Wayne, “He’s so hard to shop for because he has everything.” I headcanon that Batman is very easy to shop for. He loves stuff. Look at his cave - he loves stuff. Just get him stuff! 

You can’t get him things that are meant to be useful. No, there’s your trap. Anything useful you could get him, he could probably buy or make a more useful one himself. It’s gotta be mostly-useless novelty items. You gotta get him, like, merch. Neat little figurines that exist only to be cool. A blanket with a photo of a bat printed on it. Fun facts about newts and salamanders. You gotta shop like he’s both a proud dad and a little boy. If Billy Batson just gave him a drawing of a bat he put a decent amount of time and effort into, Batman would lose his mind. His expression wouldn’t change, but he’d lose his mind. If you gave him a $7.99 bag of glow in the dark stars, he would snarl at you, “I have no place to put these,” but in his head, he’d be like, “I have to find some place to put these!!!! :O″ And he would. 

[camtankerous]

Newt cuffs his jeans because he wants people to catch glimpses of the goofy little novelty socks hermann buys for him

[limetameta]

Idk if you already did this but tombrax confessing to each other would be amazing like maybe an angry confession

''Do you know how hard it is to love someone like you!'' Abraxas was shouting.

Tom Riddle barked out a laugh. ''As if you love me! I'm a novelty for you and your pureblood friends. Let's include Slytherin's Mudblood with second hand robes into our bit of fun so we can gang up on him - don't think me so naive, Malfoy.'' There was a rage in his eyes that couldn't be explained. Not that Abraxas tried to.

''Do you think I choose to spend my time with you because I want to make fun of you?'' Abraxas faltered for a moment. His eyes shone with hurt.

''I fail to see any other reason.'' Tom Riddle on the other hand was growing more agitated by the minute. They'd taken their row on the outskirts of the forest (not forbidden then, only mildly disallowed) so as not to be ambushed by Slytherins looking for ripe gossip.

''I love you.'' Abraxas Malfoy said.

Tom Riddle's fingers curled inwardly and he distastefully grimaced at the words. ''No, you don't.'' The more agitated Tom Riddle got, the less he looked like that picture perfect prefect. The less he spoke like that persona he'd crafted to endear himself with the teachers.

''Don't you love me?'' Abraxas asked.

Tom Riddle, in that moment, thought Abraxas Malfoy the most cruel man he'd ever encountered. And he'd encountered Dumbledore, which was saying a lot.

''This is a trap.'' Tom Riddle glared. ''If I say yes, you go back to your goons and Walburga Black and you get out a pensieve and have a ball laughing at my feelings.'' Abraxas sputtered indignantly at this and tried to explain that that was the farthest thing from the truth. But Tom was still speaking. He was gesticulating madly and angrily shouting. ''However, if I say NO, and you're being honest for once in your life - don't look at me like that I've helped you cheat on exams more than I've helped myself through life - I'm going to be an arse.''

''So it's a yes?'' Abraxas took a step forward.

Much alike a feral and wild animal, Tom Riddle started shouting at him again. ''Fucking stay away from me. I've been studying for NEWTs for the past two weeks and I don't know about you, Lord Malfoy, but I need to sit my exams. And I can't do that from Azkaban.''

''Why would you even be in Azkaban? Are you planning on killing me?'' Abraxas grimaced at him. He was more confused than disgusted. ''Who's to say I can't kill you? I could go for your diary right now.''

''Don't you fucking threaten me.'' Tom Riddle's eyes widened. ''I'm high on spite and caffeine. I will sit these exams and then afterwards I'll have my way with y ou - no - wait -''

''Ooooh you'll have your way with me?''

''I'll DO you - wait - ''

''DO go on, mon chou!''

''FUCK. I'LL DO AWAY WITH YOU.''

''I'm looking forward to it, mon chou~''

Tom Riddle was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

[literary-creature]

Our Days in New York: Chapter 3

December 9th, 1926

Newt fixed his bowtie with more care than usual that morning. He had woken up earlier to leave his case in order and get in a presentable state before heading for MACUSA.

The previous day had been quiet, but amicable. After their late breakfast, they had all decided to rest for a few hours. Newt had retired to his case, and fallen into a dreamless sleep, worn down. Hadn't it been for his creatures demanding food, he might have slept even longer. When he emerged into the living room again it was near dinner time.

He liked Tina and Queenie. They were both keen on making him feel comfortable, including him in their conversation and asking questions about his creatures and his case. Having people show interest in his work was a novelty to Newt, but that didn't mean it was unwelcomed.

Queenie sometimes made him uneasy with her mind-reading abilities, but she was so bubbly and charming that he couldn't be upset over it. She talked to him as freely as if he was an old acquaintance, never getting impatient by his awkwardness. And her food was delicious.

Tina, on the other hand, was more difficult to read. Since her visit to the case, she looked at him with newfound respect, but while she was very kind and welcoming, she was not as doting as Queenie. Her manners were far more reserved than her younger sister's, her attention to him more formal.

But what he had taken as condescension in their first meeting, now he had a strong suspicion it was mostly shyness and the habit of not sitting well with people. He could relate to that. The genuine interest she revealed with her questions and the speed at which she absorbed the information made him aware she was curious and intelligent. By the end of the first day of his visit, Newt was intrigued by her.

It was obvious that the sisters' bond was strong, despite them not being at all alike. He noted that Tina was very protective of Queenie, and she was mindful of how her thoughts affected her. Even though she scolded the legilimens for reading her mind, Newt realized she appreciated the closeness it brought with it. Queenie looked up to Tina but also tended to mother her, making sure she ate enough food or reprimanding her for working too much.

When Newt stepped into the living room that morning, he wasn't surprised to see Tina already sitting in front of her breakfast. She looked as if she had not slept; her face was pale, and she had dark circles around her eyes. Still, she smiled at him as he sat down, and pushed the plate of toast towards him.

“We're in for a long day, I'm afraid. You better have something in your stomach,” she advised. He observed she wasn't eating much herself. She seemed to be making a big effort to swallow her coffee.

“Newt's right. You have to eat as well.” Queenie intervened, coming from the bedroom. She also grinned at Newt in greeting. “I'll bring you some tea, honey.”

“Don't read his mind.” Tina reproached her.

“Sorry Newt, I do it out of habit.”

“It's alright,” Newt murmured, sitting down.

“I'm not pestering him.” Queenie protested, staring at her sister.

“Don't read mine either.”

“There’s nothing I can do, it’s like you’re screaming at me,” she retorted, passing Newt his cup of tea and falling in the seat next to him.

Tina sighed. “I know, I'm sorry Queen, I'm insufferable this morning.”

“You're nervous, but it's all gonna be good. Try to eat, would you?”

Newt drank his tea in silence, watching Tina discreetly. She took some toast from the plate and started to eat it in tiny bites, just to please her sister, her gaze fixed on the opposite wall. She stayed like that for the next ten minutes, without saying much. Queenie made some efforts to make conversation, but in vain. Then Tina happened to glance at her guest and caught him staring.

Newt looked away, blushing. “I...We can be going if you want.” he stammered. “I'm done with my tea, and I don’t have an appetite either.”

“Yes, that would be for the best. I can't sit still, and I don’t want to give Queenie a headache.” Tina said, standing up and reaching for her coat and hat.

“Oh, I'm fine. I'll see you later.” Queenie came over and gave her a light hug. “Good luck to you too Newt.”

“Thanks.”

Tina walked downstairs first, to make sure Mrs. Esposito wasn't around and gestured for Newt to follow her. They managed to get through the front door, and into the cold December air, without being noticed.

“I was thinking…Maybe we can walk for a few minutes?” Newt suggested, eyeing Tina’s colorless face. “Take some air.”

“Not a bad idea, I could do with some air. And it’s early.” Tina accepted. “The next apparition point is about ten blocks away. We can walk there.”

Tina remained silent for the first half of the trip, lost in thought. He remembered how smiling and talkative she had been the day before in the case. Right now, all her features revealed tension.

As worried as he was about her state, he took the unique opportunity to study her without impediments. Her features were soft but had character. Her lips were pink and thin; they showed more when she smiled. He liked it when she smiled. Her eyes were cast away from him, but he hadn't failed to notice the color and the expression the previous day. Dark, fierce, but also very warm and with a permanent hint of sadness. They reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

Her hair was short and a little messy, now hidden by her hat. American fashion, perhaps? He didn't know a thing about hairstyles, but the way it framed her face was suiting.

She was pretty, objectively speaking, wasn't she? Newt wondered. And yet, she carried herself as if she wasn't aware of it.

It wasn't common for him to pay so much attention to humans. They were far too complicated for his understanding and much less interesting than magical beasts could be. But there was something mysterious about Tina, that picked his interest.

“Tina.”

The woman turned to him, startled. She seemed to have forgotten he was there.

“It's going to be fine. The creatures escaping was my fault, I'm telling them the truth,” he promised. “You won't be in trouble.”

She managed a faint smile. “You're very kind. But I don't want you to get in trouble either.” she observed him with curiosity “Aren't you scared of the consequences of what happened? I believe that given the circumstances MACUSA will go easy on you, but won't you have problems with your Ministry once you're back in England?”

“I've been a nuisance to the Ministry ever since I started working there, I'm used to it,” he told her, without giving it much importance. “Besides, worrying means you suffer twice.”

This time around she giggled and shook her head. Making her laugh gave him a strange satisfaction. “That's my philosophy.”

“Why doesn't it surprise me?”

“Well, there are certain things that can't be helped. Why take such pains with them?”

“And getting in trouble with the authorities is one of those inevitable things, I take?”

“Apparently it is for me.”

“And government officials don't impress you much either, as far as I’ve seen.”

“I don't have much regard for people who think the law is over humanity. So I don't care if they approve of me.”

“Laws are made to protect people,” Tina stated her tone one of seriousness.

“Yes, but most of the time those same laws are used to oppress the more vulnerable ones. It’s not unusual for people of power to ignore those who need them.”

Newt had a brief moment of panic taking in Tina's frown, but when she spoke, her voice had no edge. “I'm not saying laws can't be used to cause harm or to chase personal interests. But there are people with good intentions, that can use the law to make the world a better place.” she lit up as she spoke, her voice suddenly full of purpose. He wished he could listen to her talking for a while. “That's why I wanted to be an auror, I think the law can make a difference for the reality of many.”

His attentive stare must have inhibited her because she fixed her hat nervously. Her face was flushed by the exercise and the discussion. “The apparition point is right there.”

Newt followed her into a discreet alley and offered the witch his arm bashfully. “Whenever you’re ready.”

With her cheeks a little pink, Tina held on to him, taking the lead. A second later, they were no longer there.

--------------------------

Despite the commotion of the past days, MACUSA’s lobby was back to its normal rhythm. Newt became aware of some people staring at him and Tina as they walked by, but the woman just ignored them.

“We still got over half an hour, let's get your wand permit first,” she suggested, getting him into the elevator. “Abernathy doesn't come in until eight, if we hurry we can avoid him.”

“It had seemed to me you weren’t fond of him the other day,” Newt commented, remembering how she had practically thrown herself behind her desk to hide from him.

“That’s an understatement. He’s the typical mediocre guy, that thinks he is going to climb up ranks by being a toady with the superiors. He loves to believe he has authority, so he takes every opportunity to boss me around in front of the other employees ever since I was demoted.” Tina said spitefully. “He has made my job here a nightmare. And he’s constantly salivating over Queenie, it’s disgusting.”

As Tina had predicted, the offending individual wasn’t in sight. The whole office was quite empty, as he could see when they walked through the place to Tina’s desk.

“Take a seat.” with a flick of her wand, the papers covering the desk tidied themselves, and made enough room for them both. “This won’t take long, I'm gonna ask you some questions. You know, name, country, a wand description.”

Opening one of the desk drawers, she took out the form, back to her business-like self. “Alright, let's start with full name.”

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.”

If she found his name amusing, she didn't let it show. Tina wrote it down carefully, muttering every word under her breath.

“That's why I go by Newt.” he clarified.

“My full name is Porpentina,” she confessed with a grimace. “I'm in no position to judge you. Now, residence?”

Tina asked and wrote every piece of information in her small and neat handwriting. He observed her pale and delicate hand holding the quill. It was soft as well, he knew that much from those few minutes that hand has been in his. Her other hand came up to her face once in a while, to remove a rebel strand of hair that kept falling out of place.

“That would be all,” she declared fifteen minutes later, sealing the document. “Congratulations, you're here legally now.”

“I am. At least until the president kicks me out, what is bound to happen in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as that.” she sounded more hopeful than convinced. “Let’s get going.”

The Investigation Department was buzzing with activity, aurors, and secretaries running around carrying paperwork, and organizing task forces to check the no-maj neighborhoods.

As soon as they step out of the elevator they were accosted by a stern-looking man in a black suit.

“We were waiting for you two,” he said as only greeting. “Goldstein, you go with Avery, I'll be there soon. We have questions for you.”

Tina gulped. “Yes, Mr.Kleeman.” Newt could tell she was intimidated but determined to keep her ground. She stayed where she was. “What about Mr. Scamander, sir?”

“The president wants to speak to him right away.”

Tina glanced at Newt, concern evident, but nodded and headed in Avery’s direction as commanded. As she walked away, she turned to him again and muttered the words “Good luck.”

“Follow me, Mr. Scamander,” Kleeman ordered, watching his suitcase in suspicion.

The president's office was on the top floor of the Woolworth Building. Pickery sat behind a magnificent carved-wood desk, concentrated in a pile of reports. She stood up to receive the magizoologist.

“Mr. Scamander.”

“Madame President.”

“Please, take a seat. I see you brought your suitcase with you.”

“Yes. I’ve reinforced the protective spells to make sure there won't be any other incident.” Newt assured her. “Miss Goldstein was as kind as to check on it, and suggest more protective measures, just to be on the safe side.”

Fixing the latches would require some careful revision, so he had settled for a string, and strengthened it with every charm he could think of. Instructed by Tina, he had also confectioned a list of all the creatures living in the case. She had advised him to show himself as cooperative as possible; that way he would have the chance to negotiate. Newt took the list out of his coat pocket and handed it to the president.

“These are all the creatures that came to New York inside my case. I'm willing to let someone in to corroborate that the information I'm presenting is veridic, but I'll be more comfortable if I could be present to prevent any problem.”

“That'd be useful; we'll take care of your suitcase later,” she told him, taking the list and leaving it aside. “I called you to my office because I wanted to discuss a few things regarding yesterday's events.”

“We have strict policies when it comes to magical creatures, Mr. Scamander. Compromising the National Statute of Secrecy is a major infraction, one that is severely punished. Under normal circumstances, I would impound that case and you would be deported with effect immediate.” Her tone was so severe, Newt didn’t dare say a word. “But I can’t ignore your participation in the capture of Grindelwald. I also can't ignore that it was your intervention that contained the exposure of the magical world. We owe you a great debt.”

“The British Ministry has been informed of the whole situation, but we're not presenting charges against you.”

Newt blinked. That was more than he expected. “Thank you, Madame President.”

“Provided, of course, that you collaborate with the investigation.”

“Certainly.”

“And about that thunderbird you brought… As I've said before, we have strict policies, but I’ve become aware that some changes need to be made. I'm intending to promote a protective order on thunderbirds.”

His eyes widened. “You would do that?”

“Yes, Mr. Scamander. But for that, I have one condition.”

She waited for the man to nod, before continuing. “It has come to my knowledge that you're currently writing a book on magical creatures. MACUSA’s goodwill can only go so far; wizards going sightseeing or looking for those creatures are a danger to the Statute of Secrecy, and I can't encourage that.” she paused. “I would want the American beasts not to be included in that book of yours.”

Newt thought about it for a moment. He didn't like the idea of leaving any creature out of the book. He had devoted hours to investigation and wanted it to be as complete as possible. But it would be for a good cause, and he could see that Pickery was acting in good faith.

“I understand Madame President.” He said after a minute. “I agree to your condition. You have no idea how much good you’d be doing. I appreciate it.”

“I'm glad.” she offered him a polite smile. “Now, if you had no further question, I think the Investigative Team needs your testimony.”

Newt nodded. He was about to stand up when he had a sudden idea.

“Actually Madame President, there’s a subject I'd like to bring to your attention, if I may.”

“Of course.”

“It's about Miss Goldstein.”

The president seemed surprised but made a gesture to indicate she was listening.

“You see Madame President, she didn't receive fair treatment.” he blurted. “She arrested me as soon as the first creature escaped but nobody paid attention to her. When she brought me in again she was accused of betrayal and almost murdered by Grindelwald. As far as I know, she lost her job for trying to stop an injustice.”

“Miss Goldstein broke the Statute of Secrecy by attacking a no-maj…”

“Excuse me, Madame.” he interrupted. “But had she been allowed to help Credence, maybe Grindelwald wouldn't have been able to manipulate him, and many deaths could have been avoided.”

The truth of that couldn't be denied, and Pickery pressed her lips together.

“Miss Goldstein told me today that she became an auror because she believed that law can protect people, that making a difference is possible.” Newt continued, emboldened. “In all honesty, I don't have the highest idea of aurors as a whole, but knowing she risked the career she worked so hard for to protect someone who needed her... It makes me believe too. Many aurors could learn a thing or two from Miss Goldstein's compassion and courage.”

“Where are going with this, Mr. Scamander?” the president asked impatiently.

“I was hoping you would consider reappointing Miss Goldstein as an auror.” Newt concluded. “She is wasted in the Wand Permit Office. You have a witch of proved potential, sealing passports Madame President.”

It was evident that Pickery would have loved to kick him out, judging by the cold stare he was giving him. Not that Newt minded; he had said what needed to be said.

“I will consider it, Mr.Scamander.” the president answered at last. “Now, unless you have more…suggestions, I have some other business to attend to.”

“Of course Madame President. Thank you for your time.”

----------------------------

Walking up the stairs as quietly as he could manage, Newt made her way to the apartment. Only then did he take off the disillusionment charm he had cast out of precaution and knock on the door. Queenie opened so fast he was sure she had heard him coming. She hurried him inside, making sure the landlady hadn't become aware of the guest's presence.

“How did it go? How come Teenie did not come with you?”

“She was still needed. But we were interrogated separately, I only saw her for a moment.” Newt explained. “She looked more relaxed than this morning.”

“I'm glad.” Queenie was relieved. “And what about you?”

“It came out alright after all.”

The day had gone between long hours of interrogation and the revision of his suitcase. That last part, though being the one he was more apprehensive about, proved to be more entertaining than he has expected. The two young aurors assigned to do the job were terrified by the beasts, and would not come close enough to get a proper look. Newt doubted those two would have been able to tell an erumpent from an occamy anyways. He had caught a glimpse of Tina, immerse in a discussion with Mr.Kleeman and two other men, but he didn’t have the chance to talk to her.

“That's good to hear,” Queenie walked back to the table, where she was occupied with the mending of some clothes. “You must be hungry. Did you stop for lunch at all?”

“No, there was no time for that. But before anything I should tend to my creatures, I'm afraid I'm quite late for feedings.”

“Go ahead. Teen may be back for when you're done and we can get have some tea together.”

But when Newt finished the feeding rounds, about an hour later, there was still no sign of Tina. Queenie was already busy preparing dinner.

“Do you think they'll keep her for much longer?” he asked, trying not to sound too anxious.

“I don't know. But it would not be the first time she works till late.”

“May I help you with dinner?” he offered.

“Oh, there's no need honey,” she smiled at him. “I can handle it on my own.”

“I'd like to. I'm not that bad in the kitchen, I could be of some use.”

“If you insist, you can chop the onions,” she passed him a knife with a smirk.

Newt observed the progress of the meal. “Are we doing it muggle way?”

“Mugg...oh, you mean without magic!” she exclaimed. “Yes, I thought it would be a good distraction while I waited for Tina.”

Queenie added some vegetables to the cooking pot. “So, tell me about your day at MACUSA. You said it went well?”

“Yes, it was not as bad as I expected. I did as Tina said last night, and I think I gave a good enough impression.” Newt started, as he chopped with careful movements. “The president said they wouldn't present charges.”

“You had a meeting with the president?”

As hard as he tried to conceal the content of the short interview, he couldn't help but let the memories of it cross his mind. It took Queenie a few seconds to snatch the whole story out of his head, and she gasped in shock, dinner forgotten.

“Don't read my mind.”

The woman was exhilarated. “Your thoughts are going too fast, and the accent makes it harder, I can't get all... Please, tell me everything about it.”

Newt sighed. He knew it was a matter of time before she found out; his occlumency skills were not amazing. “I just... I had a word with the president regarding Tina's situation.”

His confession and his recalling of the moment provided Queenie with even more information. She was in awe. “You called her brave and compassionate. You told the president she was a role model. And you meant it.”

“Well, yes I...”

“Oh, Newt! I can't believe you did that!” Queenie was moved. “Wait until Teenie knows about it, she is going to be...”

“Don't tell her.”

“But why not?”

“Pickery didn't agree to give her job back, she said she would consider it. I wouldn't want to raise her expectations beforehand. Besides...” Newt was unsure how to explain it. “I'm not sure she will appreciate my intromission.”

“Of course, she will! I know Teen can be headstrong sometimes, but she loves her job more than anything.” Queenie assured him. But the man’s alarmed expression convinced her to back off. “Alright, I won't tell her…yet. But if she does get her job back I'll make sure she knows you got a hand in this.”

“Sounds like a fair deal.” Newt agreed.

"Thanks, Newt," she said heartily.

“You don't have to...”

“Yes, I do,” Queenie cut him off. “You know, I'm concerned about Teen. She's always worried about something: About me, about her job, about money.”

She stirred the stew as she talked. “I understand being an auror means a lot to her but...” Queenie sighed. “She is young! I would like her to have fun once in a while, to meet people, to make some friends. Ever since her demotion, she has been even more hectic than usual. If it wasn't for my legilimency I wouldn't even know what she is feeling, because she doesn't talk about it.”

“She talked a little yesterday,” Newt told her, trying to make a useful contribution to the topic. “She said she was worried that being involved in all this Grindelwald affair would put her in an even worse position in MACUSA...”

“You made my Tina talk?” Queenie interrupted, impressed.

“I... We were chatting about other things and the topic sort of came up,” he explained, blushing. “That's why I saw fit to say something to Pickery. I don't know much about MACUSA's policies, but Tina seemed to believe she was going to be punished when she did nothing wrong. The president humiliated her even though she was on the right trail all the time. The least she could do is reconsider Tina’s demotion.”

“I'm sure the president loved it when you put her on the spot like that.”

“I tried her patience very much. I just hope I didn’t make it worse for Tina.” It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that his actions could go in her prejudice. “What if I’ve harmed her by opening my mouth?”

“Hey, don’t worry. You did it with the best intention, and you had good arguments.” Queenie soothed him. “The president has her issues, but she’s a fair person.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. Newt felt more distressed by the second. What if the president took her anger with him out on Tina? What if he had ruined her only chance of getting her career back after all she had done for him? Tina had helped him to find his creatures and to handle MACUSA. She had received him in her home, been kind to him, and even made the effort to spend time in his case and learn about his beasts.

“You know, Teenie liked it.”

Queenie's words brought him back to reality, but he wasn't sure what she was talking about. “Excuse me?”

“When you invited her into the case yesterday. She really liked it.”

“Did she?”

“Yes. She wouldn't stop talking about it.”

“Oh.” Newt felt a slight warmth spreading through his body. She had liked it! A person had liked his case and his creatures!

“Don't say that. I liked it too. And Jacob, he…” Queenie stopped, biting her lip. She had not mentioned Jacob to him since they had parted, but he suspected that her insistence on cooking without magic had something to do with that.

“I miss him too.”

“I know,” she murmured. But she shook her head and put on her cheerful mask again before he could try to comfort her. Which was lucky, because he wouldn’t have known what to say to make her feel better. “Anyways, I'm glad you and Tina are getting on. Teen is not one to have many friends. I don't get why; she can be a little intense sometimes, but she is a loving person once you get to know her. Maybe the problem is that she doesn't let people get close enough to see that.”

“I'm not very good at making friends either. Human friends, I mean.”

“You two have a lot in common.”

“Yes, I suppose we do in some way.” Now that he was thinking about it, he realized she was right. That must be the reason he was so comfortable around Tina.

He raised his eyes, and saw Queenie was smirking in a particular way, looking at him as if she knew something he didn't. He was about to inquire on the subject when the woman's expression changed.

“Tina is coming.”

Newt hurried to the window and saw Tina's figure reaching for the building's door.

“Can you hear things from that far?”

“Usually no. But Tina's thoughts are so familiar, I could distinguish them in a crowd of thousands.”

A minute later, they heard slow steps coming upstairs. The lock squeaked, and the witch in question appeared at the doorframe, looking exhausted. And also surprised to find both Newt and Queenie hovering over her.

“How did it go?” Newt beat Queenie to ask.

“Well enough, I think,” she yawned as she got out of her coat. “They interrogated me for hours. Kleeman needed all the information I could give him about Credence and his background; he’ll be in charge of the department for now. There’s an operation underway to find Mr.Graves, but Morrigan knows what Grindelwald has done with him.”

Without saying a word, Queenie came over to her, taking her arm and conducting her to a chair.

“I’m required to hand in a detailed report about the event tomorrow.”

“Never mind that now Teen. First, you need to eat.” she interrupted, putting the plate of stew in front of her.

“This smells great Queen,” she commented, accepting the plate. “What about you Newt? How did it go with Madame Pickery? Kleeman said they were not presenting charges against you.”

“No, indeed. It went well,” he muttered, avoiding Queenie's gaze. “Pickery said she would consider putting a protective order on Thunderbirds.”

“A protective order?” Tina was astounded.

“Yes, I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t,” he confessed. “Let me help you with that, Queenie.”

“That’s great news,” she exclaimed, following his movements as he carried the missing plates to the table. “I was hoping Madame Pickery would make an exception for your creatures, but I didn’t expect this from her. I’m so glad. And this stew tastes like heaven, you outdid yourself this time Queen.”

“Thanks, Teenie. Newt assisted me in the making.”

“You barely let me do anything.” Newt protested. “The credit is all yours.”

He perceived that Tina approved of his initiative. She took a few more spoonfuls from her plate, then turned to Newt again. “By the way, how's everybody in the case today?”

He felt pleased. Queenie was telling him the truth, then. “They are all quite well. The erumpent's leg is much better, and the niffler hasn't stolen anything.”

“That’s good.”

“I've been having some difficulties with Pickett though. He refuses to go back to his tree.”

An offended chirp came out of Newt's pocket. The bowltruckle took his head out and addressed Newt, furious.

“We agreed that you were going back to the tree as soon as I was done with the feeding rounds, but when I tried to leave you there, you made scene again.” Newt scolded him, but the creature kept talking back. “He says it’s a lie, and that I'm making him look bad in front of you.” He translated for Tina and Queenie.

Pickett climbed out of his pocket and landed over the table. He came closer to Tina and continued chirping, his arms pointing accusatorily at his caretaker.

“I don't understand him much, but I think he is complaining about you.” she sniggered.

She spread her hand, hesitant, but Pickett climbed up right away. Newt didn't miss the amazement on Queenie's face at seeing her sister’s handling of the situation.

Tina held her hand close to her eyes to take in the tiny features. The bowltruckle changed his tone to a questioning one.

“What is he saying now?”

“He wants to know if he can stay with you because he can't stand me right now,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I don't mind Pick, but I'm afraid I don't have pockets,” Tina told him, charmed by the request.

Pickett understood, for he moved across her arm and sat on her shoulder. From there, he blew a raspberry at Newt, making both Tina and Queenie laugh out loud.

“A beautiful display of your good manners. Then I'm the one who makes you look bad.”

Tina straightened her back so the bowltruckle could be comfortable, and kept eating dinner.

“Why doesn't he like his tree?” Queenie asked, observing Pickett.

“He has a complicated relationship with the other bowltruckles. He can be picky with food and with sharing his space, and the others are not very accommodating,” he explained. “It's my fault, I've spoiled him too much.”

“Do you have more bowltruckles?” Tina inquired.

“Yes, Titus, Finn, Poppy, Marlow, and Tom,” he answered, delighting in her interest. “I can show them to you tomorrow if you want.” the words left his mouth without permission.

“That would be nice,” Tina accepted immediately. “I'd like to meet Pickett's friends.”

From his shoulder, Pickett let out another sound of distaste.

“They are not your friends? And is the term 'fellow bowltruckles' acceptable?”

She looked adorable talking to Pickett, and he rejoiced at another chance to have Tina over in his case. She'd like the bowltruckles, and he could show her the diricawls too. Or they could visit the rescued occamy.

He was already pondering the different possibilities when his eyes stumbled with Queenie's amused smile and he felt color rise to his cheeks.

“I mean, I can show both of you,” he added in a rush. “You're invited as well, Queenie.”

“Sure Newt,” Queenie teased.

"You said earlier that it was good we get on well. I thought...Is it not alright?”

His confusion made the legilimens laugh. “I’m messing with you, of course it’s fine. You two could use a friend.”

Newt thanked Merlin that Pickett was holding all of Tina's attention, because the exchange went unnoticed by her. Watching the bowltruckle playing with her hair, he decided there was nothing he wanted more than to be her friend.

I took my time, but I'm back. Now you can read in AO3 as well https://archiveofourown.org/works/36348679/chapters/91099090

[teeth-farie]

pls someone help WHAT is the chapter w the newt sauce 😭😭

Levi orders himself novelty golden hellfire newt syrup and he’s like, nothing wrong could ever stem from this! Well mammon happened. Mams, dear poor mams dumps it into the soup he’s making as a secret ingredient and unknowingly juices everyone with horny sauce aldjfjfjfj

(The fact that Lucifer snatches the second bottle and uses it on himself later in the game skdkkfkf)

[thetypedwriter]

Cold Iron Heart Book Review

Cold Iron Heart by Melissa Marr Book Review 

I don’t think many people are aware or have read the Wicked Lovely series by Melissa Marr, but that’s alright. I originally started this book blog as I had so many thoughts and feelings about the books I was reading and yet no one to share them with. 

So I might be talking to me, myself and I in this book review, but at the end of the day, it’s still a way for me to express how I feel about the literature I’m consuming even if no one else is reading this. 

Wicked Lovely is one of my favorite series from when I was young. I still remember very clearly how my love story with these books started as it was odd and coincidental. I was at the grocery store with my mom and a promised “quick” trip quickly turned into an hour-long shopping spree as my mother was prone to do. 

Back then I was in middle school, had no cell phone, and was bored out of my mind. So what is any pre-teen to do? I went over to the small, sad book selection in the grocery story and picked up the novel with the most interesting cover. 

This book was Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. 

I read it the rest of the day and finished it that night, consuming page after page. I was completely transfixed. It was dark, gritty, violent, sexy-all things that my twelve-year old self found entirely fascinating. 

It was a fantasy book about fairies, but these fairies were deadly, life-sized, cruel, violent, beautiful and loving. 

I’ve been enamored with fairies and fairy lore ever since. All because of this book and the series that followed. It hooked me in ways that I still don’t fully comprehend, but I understood then that I hadn’t read anything like it before and I was drawn into Melissa Marr’s world and never quite left it, even all these years later. I’ve gone back and re-read Wicked Lovely multiple times and each time I still found it enjoyable and alluring. 

Cold Iron Heart is a different beast. 

A few days ago, my best friend (who is a journalist) sent me an email saying that local Arizona author, Melissa Marr, was releasing a new book and that she might have the opportunity to interview her. 

I was ecstatic, of course, and not so subtly tried to persuade my friend to let me silently snoop in on the interview (I didn’t, by the way). 

It was then that I realized I hadn’t checked in on Melissa Marr for some time-what had she been writing? Imagine my surprise that one of my favorite series of all time not only had a new book-a prequel no less, but also several new short stories. 

I was flabbergasted. And beyond excited. 

So I ordered the book immediately and read it the moment it arrived on my doorstep to eventually find myself with...mixed feelings with a negative tinge. Okay, more than a tinge, more like a cascading waterfall of negative feelings. 

First off, the book is a prequel. 

Now. Melissa Marr could have done so many cool things with this. There are so many interesting characters that I would have loved to see more in depth or delve into their histories. 

Like Miach and Beira, for example. I’ve heard about the late Summer King since book 1, but never got to read about him as he was dead before the series began. However, his legendary love with Beira, the Winter Queen, would have been so incredibly bewitching to read about it, especially if it involved the birth of Keenan. 

This would have been an awesome choice. 

Irial and Niall would have been another incredible one, probably the best one. We’ve been told over and over again throughout the series that these two hot-heads with a past used to run the Dark Court together, wreaking havoc, taking lovers, seeking new heights, etc. 

But do we get to see this transfixing time? Nope. 

I would even have settled for a story about the Hunt, Sorcha and Bannanach, literally any character done in the right way. 

But...no. Melissa Marr decides to write a prequel that is literally a carbon copy of the first book Wicked Lovely, but innumerably worse. 

Everything in the prequel is exactly the same as the original novels. Miach is dead, Keenan is looking for his Summer Queen, the Winter Girl is pissed off for not being the chosen love of Keenan’s, Irial is temptation in the flesh, Niall and Irial are at odds, Bananach is causing discord, Sorcha is isolated and frigid, the list goes on and on. 

Nothing of consequence, novelty, or importance happens in this book. 

Frankly, it just felt like a terrible redo of the first novel, just set 100 years back. 

I didn’t give a single flying crap about Thelma or Tam or whatever her name was. She was a worse version of Leslie, of Aislinn, of every other cool female character we eventually get to read about in the main series. 

Thelma was contradictory in the worst of ways. She said one thing, like she would rely on no man and never have children and then turned around and did every single one of them like some sort of hypocrite galore. 

She was so irritating and boring to read about that I tended to skim her parts because it was just paragraph after paragraph of bitching and moaning about the same goddamn things over and over again: stay away from fairies, oh god this fairy likes me, no sex, no children, no love and then bam! She just throws it all away. 

Urgh. 

The worst part too is that this isn’t a well written book. It’s repetitive, quite boring at times, and caters way too much to the reader. 

Something I loved about the first Wicked Lovely is that Melissa Marr kinda just tosses you into her world and calls it a day. She doesn’t hold your hand or over explain. She just describes and lets you glean for yourself. 

I loved this aspect of the original series. I liked learning about her world and the characters this way. 

Cold Iron Heart spits on the idea of this concept. Marr repeats herself so much about the same things, who Irial is, what fairies are, why this is happening, that I grew increasingly irritated as the book went on. 

Who on earth is she explaining this for? New readers? Why in the world would any new reader start with this book? The newest one that comes after six others???? It makes no goddamn sense. 

So not only did I feel patronized and aggravated, but the love story between Thelma and Irial grated on me as there was no basis for their love. 

It was ridiculous with no shred of authenticity and I hated it, especially knowing that he already loves Niall and Leslie only to come back and say, “wait a moment! I had another true love that I’ve never mentioned before. Yeah. Her name was Thelma. Or Tam. Or whatever, I don’t know. I knew her for three days, most of which was just sex, and then I lost her after she had my baby but I conveniently forgot about it because of nonsensical plot! Hahahah, good right?”

No. Not good. Horrible. 

Overall, this book is a waste of time and trees. 

I don’t know why Melissa Marr even wrote and published this. I can see her writing this for herself because why not, but as a fan and a reader this was beyond disappointing. 

It’s like how all Harry Potter fans felt when J.K. Rowling wrote The Cursed Child and we got movies about Newt Scamander when we literally wanted anything else-Marauder series anyone??

It’s a particular kind of egregious offense when a favorite series or author of yours ends up ruining the canon you’re in love with. For that reason alone, I am stripping Cold Iron Heart from my heart and mind, like it never existed. 

Just like I did with Cursed Child, or the fact that you-know-who dies in Death Note (if you know, you know). I just...don’t believe it. It ruined all the lovely things Marr had previously written and the stories that defined so much of my love for YA, for fantasy, and for my own writing as a whole. 

I know for a lot of you this was a bumbling mess of a review with little to no clarity of the plot or who these characters are. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you are still reading if you didn’t know the book or the series in the first place, but that’s alright. 

Like I said at the beginning, this is a way to get my intense feelings and thoughts down onto paper and now that I have I feel marginally better, although still pissed off that this book exists and that I currently own it. 

Sigh. 

Well if you stuck around for the ride, I appreciate it. If you skipped this particular book review, I understand that too. 

Recommendation: Burn this book. However, if you want a gritty, tantalizing fantasy story, pick up the original Wicked Lovely and be whisked away into a world that has stuck with me since the first moment I read it on the fateful day at the grocery store. 

Score: 3/10

[aethelar]

For a comment on this piece asking if Graves and Newt ever argue, in which Graves tags along on Newt’s adventures and parts of it go, um, less than optimally:

I wanna see Newt convincing Graves to go with him. I doubt he'd just drop everything and go.

Nope. Not in the slightest. It went like this:

Newt lasted all of, what eight months in New York? Nine months? He'd somehow ended up working for MACUSA as a consultant to help them fix the outdated beast laws, which basically meant that he spent five days a week bothering Graves at work and the remaining two days a week bothering Graves at home. As far as desk jobs went it wasn't bad, per se, it was just... a desk job. At a desk. Four walls - sometimes more, some of the meeting rooms were hexagonal for some unknown reason - ceilings, windows that looked out at other sky scrapers instead of the sky. Even when he was outside he wasn't really outside, New York too built up and closed in to feel like anything except a cage.

Magizoologists don't do well in cages.

But Graves did, and for Graves, Newt tried. He honestly did. Plus, fixing the beast laws was good, and if was going to be done then Newt would rather it was done right. So, eight months, maybe nine, he did his best.

Then there was the MACUSA annual party. It was horrific. Horrendous. Horrible. How many other words starting horr and meaning stupendously undesirable are there, because the annual party was all of them. They'd hired a motivational speaker. People were talking about ten year plans. Even the buffet had been carefully designed to promote productivity and networking opportunities. Newt stared down the barrel of an endless monotony of working lunches and complaining about management at the water cooler, and on the way home from the party he stopped by the harbour and bought himself a one way ticket to Rio de Janeiro.

(The fact that it was half past midnight and none of the ticket offices were open is not something you should be focusing on)

"Graves," he said when he got home, staring at it in somewhat confused bafflement, "I'm going to Brazil on Saturday. Do you want to come?"

"What, on a business trip?" Graves asked, wrinkling his nose and measuring out a hangover cure with the careful precision of the truly tipsy. (He didn't like office parties any more than Newt did, he just had slightly less extravagant coping mechanisms). "I didn't think we did business trips. Why are you going on a business trip?"

"I'm not," Newt answered.

"Oh," Graves said. "That's ok then."

"So are you coming?"

He held up his novelty wampus mug and squinted at the purple liquid inside. "Yeah. Sure. Does this look exactly four sevenths full to you?"

And that was that, until approximately eleven thirty the following morning when Tina stopped by his office and asked, with the somewhat despairing resignation of someone who's too old for this shit and too young to have this many stress lines, who he was going to leave in charge when he'd gone.

"What."

"Not that I think it's not a great idea, and if I'm honest it'll be a relief to get some things done without Newt constantly underfoot - I love him but he's awful when he's cooped up for too long - but couldn't you have given us a bit more than a week's notice before you went to find yourself on a beach in Bahia?"

"Before I what to what myself on what."

She squinted. "In a jungle then." And, when he just stared blankly at her, she sighed and toed the door closed behind her. "Graves, it'll be good for you," she said with more seriousness than she usually showed. "I know you've been doing your best since Grin - since everything, we all know. And we appreciate it. But I'm glad to see you putting yourself first as well, you know? We'll be fine. You'll get your time away to sort everything out, and in the future... who knows." She smiled reassuringly, and that more than anything threw Graves for a loop. "We'll still be here," she promised. "I'll sort everything out this end. You just... focus on you."

And with that disturbingly cryptic last line, she slipped out his office, presumably to sort everything out while Graves focused on Graves.

"What," he repeated in bewilderment. His empty office failed to provide clarification, and he went back to sorting paperwork with the vague unease of someone who suspects they're missing something but doesn't know what.

The feeling followed him throughout the day as various coworkers stop to express their well wishes, tell him they support his choices, and insist that they'll keep his coffee machine alive for him even though it's an arcane demon that spits black tar at anyone who comes near.

"I think," he said to Newt that evening when they were halfway through chopping onions (Graves) and stripped blood-root bark (Newt, but thankfully that was for the griphorns to eat and not for them), "I think I've been fired."

"Out of what?" Newt asked.

"Fired. Let go. My employment has been terminated. Delgado gave me his abuela's address in Mexico and made me promise to go to her if I needed anything, so there may also have been an order put out for my arrest."

Newt blinked and tipped his head in confusion. "That seems a bit of an extreme reaction," he said. "Everyone I talked to was really supportive of our trip. Maybe I misread them."

At this point Graves' auror instincts, the ones that had kept him alive and - mostly - sane for the last twenty years and that had been carefully honed through countless hours of training and a gut feeling that could blare like a klaxon when it needed to, those auror instincts, they informed him that something was Up and Newt was Part Of It.

He put the knife down on the chopping board. "Newt," he said with as much calm as he could muster. "What did you do."

And Newt, with his magizoologist instincts that told him when a creature was playing and when a creature was genuinely about to rip his arm off, froze. "Ah," he said, gripping the blood-root bark. "Ah?"

"Newt."

"I, um. I got you... a present?"

And as Graves listened with mounting horror and trepidation, he realised that he'd been so successfully outmanoeuvred and outplayed - by accident, the shame of it - that he had no other choice. He couldn't walk into work in the morning and tell everyone there'd been a misunderstanding. Not after even Picquery had been Understanding and Supportive and holy fuck, Abernathy gave him an awkward hug, is Brazil going to be far enough? Graves may need to go further. He may need Australia.

"So," Newt finished, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "That's the plan. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but, I got you a ticket today so if you do...?"

Graves resumed chopping his onion. The steady thunk thunk of the knife was a soothing background rhythm, and the way it made Newt twitch was objectively hilarious.

"If I come with you," he said, because just because he knew he'd already capitulated didn't mean that he could let it look like he'd agreed so easily, "Then you have to come with me afterwards."

"Ok," Newt said hesitantly. "Um, come with you where?"

"Anywhere. Haven't decided yet. But I get to lead for... the rest of our lives."

"Until we're eighty."

"Ninety."

"Eighty nine."

"Deal. And we're not staying in the suitcase."

"What? Why not, I've got a whole cabin set up down there. The suitcase is perfect for staying in."

"The suitcase is a death trap with insufficient wards or protection. What if someone picks it up while you're inside?"

"We could put a label on it asking them not to?"

"Newt."

"We could get Addie to guard it?"

"Newt."

[new-endings]

fic idea # 658

draconic!crowley AU:

Aziraphale, for all his love of literature, is the biggest skeptic in things of fantastical nature that you will ever meet. All things, in his mind, must make some sort of rhyme or reason. Open discussion regarding the supernatural? He’ll give reference material ranging from explaining audiovisual hallucinations to historical excerpts of mass hallucinations. Talk about destiny and fate? He has quite a few textbooks on statistics. Even talks of romance sets him down a path of skepticism to near cynicism--

(no, definitely not colored by his own abysmal bias, of course not.) 

But then his nephew Newt sets him up with Anathema's distant uncle-or-something-- and something about the man... something about him isn't quite normal. He’s intriguing, a lovely gentleman, and he honestly wouldn't mind seeing him again... but... For all Aziraphale’s logic, there’s something about this handsome man that isn’t quite normal. 

Now--dragons are hoarders. Absolutely so. They see something they like and they just have to have it. And upon their first meeting, Crowley's absolutely enamored. Aziraphale's adorable, so very pretty, and such a little bastard, it's almost frightening how taken he is on their first meeting. 

He has to get his little treasure in his keep. He belongs there, where Crowley can keep him safe, protected, and away from others who might steal him away. It gets harder and harder for him to contain that draconic side of himself especially when his little gem (among a myriad of other nicknames, all relating to treasure because he thinks he's hilarious) seems to keep him at arm’s length. 

But Crowley’s undeterred. He loves pampering Aziraphale, showering him with gifts and extravagant meals and has this terrible tendency to "kidnap" the bookshop owner for a few days and take him back to his high-rise flat in Mayfair.

(yes kidnapping princesses to towers are a dragon's duty after all) 

Shenanigans ensue especially when Anathema and Crowley's not-so-human lineage (a matrilineal witch ancestry and draconic blood from some cousins two times removed) come to light. 

Newt thinks it amazing that his fiancée is an actual, factual witch amazing and a little hot, but of course, Aziraphale’s not buying it. 

Or rather, he's in a very long string of denial before Crowley literally transforms in front of him. Crowley was reluctant to do so-- his true form is rather terrifying, 

And it is. It terrifies the living daylights out of Aziraphale. There’s this mix of horror that courses through his blood, but he also finds his form absolutely, and utterly beautiful.

This, he thinks, this is what magic is. 

some plot and angsty things under the tag too: 

Newt begins to question the authenticity of his and Anathema's relationship when he learns about the prophetic books. While he loves Anathema, he wonders if her feelings are genuine or whether or not she's just following a set of instructions without any real meaning to it. A part of him wants to defy fate because at the end of the day, he's just a nerd with a string of bad luck that follows him like an ever-present shadow. He thought that for once in his life, his luck had turned around when he won Anathema's heart. But now he wonders if she just sees him like an obligation

Aziraphale, well... he's not sure if Crowley even loves him at all. Sure, he adores him. Absolutely covets him. But Aziraphale wonders how long he'll have Crowley's sole affections before it's taken by something else-- by someone else. 

He wonders how long it will be before he's just another trinket in his hoard of eclectic array of statues and paintings, expensive, vintage cars, and army of terrified, semi-sentient plants. His newness, the shiny luster of novelty is obviously why Crowley is so keen on wooing him, right? All those little pet names, "treasure," "gem," "jewel," "diamond," "precious one"-- they're all firm reminders of what he really is to Crowley. 

It saddens him quite a bit, but now that his eyes have been opened to another world-- one he'd only dreamed of as a boy-- he can't turn away from it. So he's guarding his heart and just hopes that when Crowley finds something or someone new to chase after, he'd be allowed to leave the dragon's keep and allowed to go free.

After all, from the storybooks he’s read...it’s almost impossible to escape a dragon’s hoard. 

Obviously, that's not the case-- Crowley loves him and doesn't intend on letting him go. There'll be one treasure in a dragon's life that they hold highest above all else and Crowley firmly believes that Aziraphale is the One for him.

But of course plot shenanigans has to ensue before they have that conversation.

plot shenanigans that...i have no energy to write rn OTL

[sciencespies]

The Massive Genome of the Lungfish May Explain How We Made The Leap to Land

https://sciencespies.com/nature/the-massive-genome-of-the-lungfish-may-explain-how-we-made-the-leap-to-land/

The Massive Genome of the Lungfish May Explain How We Made The Leap to Land

If you are a lucky species, you will stumble into random gene mutations that just happen to help you survive better – allowing you and your descendants to keep and build on the helpful traits they encode. As with anything involving luck, the more chances you take, the more chances you have of hitting the jackpot.

That’s what seems to have happened with our long-ago ancestors – the ones we share with still living lungfish. They struck enough genetic jackpots to allow them to climb out of the water and access the whole new world of land, around 420 million years ago. 

In doing so, they became the ancestors of all land animals with backbones (tetrapods). Having a massive genome, like that found in modern lungfish, may have helped with this.

Researchers just sequenced the entire genome of the endangered Australian lungfish (Neoceratodus forsteri), which has the largest known animal genome. It is 14 times the size of ours.

This required new DNA sequencing techniques and masses of computing power, only now technically possible – to piece together a whopping 43 billion nucleotides (‘letters’ in the genetic code).

“When you look at it from a genomic perspective, [lungfish are] genomically halfway between a fish and a land-based vertebrate,” biologist Siegfried Schloissnig from the Research Institute of Molecular Pathology (IMP) in Austria told New Scientist.

Of six still living species of lungfish, four are African, one South American, and one Australian. They first appeared in the fossil record 400 million years ago.

The Australian species has retained the most ancestral features, and was mistakenly classed as an amphibian when first discovered, due to its bizarre mix of fish and newt features, including its weird, leg-like lobed fins. These strange in-between ‘living fossils’ can live up to 100 years.

Australian lungfish still appear to closely resemble the fossils of their 100-million-year-old (and now extinct) ancestral species that hauled themselves out of the water, eventually spawning mammals, birds, reptiles, and amphibians.

Its genome confirms that this air-gulping swimmer is our closest living fish relative, beating the other contender, coelacanths – another group of lobed finned fish.

So within the Australian lungfish’s giant haystack of genes are clues to how animals made the transition from aquatic to terrestrial. 

“This… required a number of evolutionary innovations including airbreathing, limbs, posture, prevention of desiccation, nitrogen excretion, reproduction, and olfaction,” the researchers write in their paper.

They identified the same genes responsible for our embryonic lung development already present in the lungfish, as are our familiar ulna and radius arm bones, and the genes that encode them. Tetrapod limb patterning genes like hox-c13 and sal1 had never been seen before in fish.

“Such novelties might have predisposed the [lobe-finned fish] to conquer land demonstrating how the lungfish genome can contribute to better understanding of this major transition during vertebrate evolution,” the team write.

The researchers also found huge additions to the lungfish’s genes associated with smell – what would have been a new suite of sensors suitable to their ancestors’ new environment. These genes code for receptors of airborne odours, while groups of receptors for waterborne scents shrunk.

Many of the excess genes that bulk out their hefty genome arose through copied sections of their DNA. Some of the lungfish’s individual chromosomes contain as many nucleotides as our entire human genome.

This form of genome expansion, through copies, is known to be an important driving force of evolution, with evidence that it helps provide organisms with the ability to rapidly adapt to a changing environment.

The Australian lungfish is an incredible living record of our evolution, and after preserving this genetic history for so long, it’s now under threat by human activities altering the freshwater habitats it calls home.

The animal hunts for frogs, worms and snails, as well as munching on plants in the water. It usually relies on gills to breathe, but its single lung allows the lungfish to surface for fresh air when dry conditions reduce their watery environment, making it murky and stagnant.

“There is no doubt that the newly sequenced genome will unveil more of the secrets of this bizarre vertebrate in the future,” said IMP cellular geneticist Elly Tanaka.

“Not only can it teach us things about adaptations to life on land, but it may also explain how certain genomes evolve to be so big.”

This research was published in Nature.

#Nature