@pocketforpickett-blog / pocketforpickett-blog.tumblr.com
-pops in with cookies- you were one of the first blogs I saw follow me on here and as soon as I saw your muse I had to hit follow back. I think your blog is great and adorable and here's to hoping I see you on my dash more cause I think you are doing a great job! -hides now-
HOW AM I DOING? MEME
-tucks anon in my pocket- who the bowtruckle now? its u.
Send in someone’s url or your own and I will spread some positivity about them! With everything happening it’s always nice to show each other how great we wall are. If you feel up to it, please reblog this as well!!
indepedent,selective modesty barebone for the fantastic beast and where to find them
indepedent,selective modesty barebone for the fantastic beast and where to find them
he supposes he HAS been grinding the billywig stings wich a bit too much enthusiasm —- they’ve already been reduced to a fine enough powder. heaving a great sigh, he puts the pestle down at last, both palms flat on the table. why is he so HOMESICK for a place he had barely spent a week in?
despite the heaviness in his heart, the aching for the people he’d grown unusually fond of ( thinking, quite specifically, of one dark-haired auror ) he has to smile when pickett taps the larvae jar. FUNNY THINGS, bowtruckles.
❝ no, none for me, you know how it is … and i’m sorry i snapped. things have been … off, you know. since we left. ❞ he turns the pestle over in his hands.
❝ —- do you miss them? ❞
Pickett would like to say no. He would like to say that he could easily forget the neat muggle who had knocked the terrible mob boss out or the bubbly blonde who always made a point to keep him somewhere nice and cozy in the bluster of the New York City wind while Newt talked to the MACUSA operatives. But out of the three, there was a part of him that would miss the dark haired woman the most. It was not simply because Tina snuck him tree lice when Newt wasn’t looking, but she seemed to make Newt grin, especially when he didn’t think anyone was watching.
The bowtruckle- who wanted his own tree lice larvae- grabbed the lid and pulled himself up to sit on the tin lid. There was a light tinking noise as he kicked his little feet against the glass jar. Properly sitting in place, Pickett extended his hands for Newt, attempting to support him as best as he could in the absence of his much large humansized peers.
obi wan: anakin stop being dramatic
anakin:
REAL TALK THOUGH. Round of applause for the entire Fantastic Beasts fandom. We've only been around for like what a week tops in legitimacy. BUT this is the most supportive lovely people who genuinely adore each character they have opted to play and it shows in their writing and meta. You are all so warm and open and I am very proud to be included in this family.
@ everyone !!!
█ ▌ ☾ ; —-turning away from the running faucet ( the bucket was rather large ; it would serve as the tub ), newt sat on a small wooden bench a few feet from the sink, keeping the bowtruckle well cradled in his hand.
❛ oh quit with your sulking, it was just a’ smidge of water. ❜ newt was fighting the smile from his lips, the bowtruckle tree was well within their sights & he could already hear the stirring squeaks coming from the leaves.
❛ You’re going to get me into trouble Pickett, are you alright? I never knew bowtruckles could swim. ❜ the smile was slowly creeping….
A T T E N T I O N
Oh, yes! Despite the impromptu soak, being held by Newt, being offered a moment of the his time seemed to quell the so called “sulking”. The noises from the bowtruckle tree hardly caught Pickett’s attention as he huffed, shaking off a few droplets from his little leafs.
Bowtruckles didn’t really swim, so much as floated, so long as the water was stagnant or a light babble. Faced with a river or a fast moving creek, Newt would have to quell a very panicked little creature.
if you are a HARRY POTTER RP BLOG, please LIKE / REBLOG this post !! i want to touch all your faces.
Something akin to a snicker escaped the creature as it poked at the green, little creature with a claw, I am what I am, he promptly sat down and started digging around his pouch. Not entirely sure for what, but happy that Newt hadn’t managed to shake everything out of him. Little claws finding the brown coin purse he had snagged out of a lady’s bag and placed it infront of Pickett.
'You might as well let use see it all. It’s not like he can take you back and give it back to the rightful owner, thief.’
It was affectionate at this point. How many times had Pickett assisted Newt in keeping up with his friend? And when keeping up with him failed, the bowtruckle was more than pleased to help find the other. Though he did have to admit, it was sometimes really fun to see all the contraband that managed to slip back into the case. Not that Pickett would admit to it out loud. M/small>
Get to know me meme → Favorite fantastic beasts: Pickett the Bowtruckle
“See, I wouldn’t have let him keep you, Pickett. Pick, I would rather chop off my hand than get rid of you… After everything you have done for me, now come on. Pick, we’ve talked about sulking before, haven’t we. Pickett come on, give me a smile.”
pocketforpickett is adorable and they deserve a lot of love!
➤ 🐉
Newt nodded along to Pickett’s small noises of dissent as he climbed his way up his arm and into the pocket he called home most of the time.
“I suppose Cassius and I will have to have a d i s c u s s i o n about that, then, won’t we?” he muttered. He knew Pickett was prone to getting upset at the slightest provocation — but Newt could never quite find it in himself to be annoyed about it. He loved the little guy.
Pickett seemed to huff more frustration as he began to make the pocket cozy enough for him. Long fingers grasped the most insignificant little puffs of lint to toss them out of the pocket, his pocket. However, despite those little noises, he did seem much more placated by Newt’s promise to scold his fellow bowtruckle.
Despite himself, the insecteater found peace within the pocket, tucking his little legs close. A sense of fatigue took him as his anxieties eased in the protective embrace of the fabric. The chittering and buzzing noises became muffled more moment by moment.
@pocketforpickett liked !!
❝ —– pickett, i am not MOPING !! please stop thinking i am. i do miss the city, but i am certainly not pining over it like a damsel in distress. ❞
Newt Scamander was very good at many things, but he was a pretty terrible liar. Especially to Pickett. You don’t live in a man’s pocket and watch him befriend a muggle and half-court an auror to believe him when he says he isn’t moping.
He was.
Pickett couldn’t bring them back. That would be a monumental task for even the world’s most capable bowtruckle, much less one with anxiety issues. However, climbing over to get off of Newt’s shoulder down onto one of the workshop table, the little one found the jaw of tree lice larva tapping it in offering to Newt. Tree lice made him feel better. Why shouldn’t it help Newt?
