Hello My Friends🫂🇵🇸

I am feeling things 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

Mistletoe | R.Lupin x reader

| harrypotter x aunt!reader | remuslupin x fem!reader | golden trio era |

Synopsis: after the death of your brother, you take in your nephew as your own, shutting everyone else out in your grief. However, once you’re reunited with an old friend in Harry’s third year, old feelings start to come to the surface as you help each other through your grief.

WARNINGS: mentions of dea!h, mentions of grief. (In this story, let’s say Voldemorts curse bounced off Harry and killed moldy voldy for good, Harry has a normal childhood)

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“Thank you, for standing with me.” You say, watching as the train leaves the station for the fourth time since your nephew had been accepted into Hogwarts. “It’s always so hard watching him go.”

“It’s no problem at all, you know that.” Remus told you, placing a tentative hand on your arm as you play with your hands worriedly.

It was the same overwhelming anxiety year after year, watching the only family you have left, the only part of James you have left, slip further and further away into the distance.

You and your brother were inseparable, known quite rarely as James and y/n, but more commonly as the Potter Twins. It was a rare occurrence to see one of you without the other, especially at school.

You weren’t with him when he died. No, you were in your own house, washing dishes by hand, because you were to bored to do it by magic. You weren’t with him, but you felt it. Like a knife through the chest, you felt the part of your soul that belonged to him fracture into a million pieces. Your heart that matched his break and turn cold as the glass you held fell to the floor.

You knew part of yourself had died, but not which part.

Not until you reached the Potter’s house.

Not until you found yourself screaming until your throat was raw, begging your brother to wake up.

When you finally heard the crying of a baby over your own sobs, you knew you had to take him before Dumbledore got his hands on him, taking him away from you forever.

“Hello, little one, Auntie y/n’s going to keep you safe.” You whispered, your voice only a fracture of what it used to be.

You tried not to look towards the lifeless form of what used to be one of your greatest friends.

You raised Harry as if he was your own, teaching him everyday about the parents he lost, because you would be damned if James Potter would ever be forgotten.

“I know it’s not, but still, thank you.” You tell him, before turning your head to look into his kind eyes. “You can come over, if you like? Despite what Harry might have told you, I’m a good cook.”

“That would be nice.” Remus chucked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

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Sitting with Remus at your kitchen table, you started to realise just how much you had missed him.

“I let him keep the map, last year.” He told you, a small grin tugging at his lips as he sipped his tea.

“Remus Lupin, despite the years that have passed you still have some mischief in you.” You tease, sipping your own coffee.

“Well, once a marauder, always a marauder. Isn’t that what we all used to say?” He retorted, and you genuinely smile.

A rare sighting since the passing of your brother, a sight only Harry has known.

You reach over and take his calloused hand in yours, brushing your thumb over a scar that lay there.

“I’m so sorry that I pushed you away, I never meant-“

“No, no, none of that. I won’t have you apologising for the way you chose to grieve. You lost your brother, and took on the responsibility of raising his child all in a matter of hours. I wasn’t what you needed then, and I understood that completely.”

That’s something about Remus that you had always loved. No matter how wronged he was, he had always found it within himself to understand. No matter how much somebody hurt him, his empathy would always shine through.

“What about what you needed? You lost everybody, and I shut you out.” You said, your confession leaves with shame and regret. He held your hand tighter.

“What I needed was to know that you and Harry were safe. And I knew that. I managed my grief in my own ways, but I managed nonetheless.”

Something else about Remus that you loved, was the way he held eye contact when he spoke. As if people would stop hearing him if he looked away. His eyes held onto yours now, sending secret messages of reassurance that he can’t speak with words.

He smiled, picking up his tea once more to take a sip. You wondered if he had had somebody to hold all this time, if somebody had been there to hold his hand as his world fell apart around him.

As you look at him, you remember the small school crush you used to have on him while at Hogwarts. The way you used to purposely sit next to him in the great hall so he’d have to lean down to talk to you, since he was so tall.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I had a bit of a crush on you in school.” You say, smiling down at you drink. He scoffs in amusement.

“Me? Why on earth would you have a crush on me?” He said, as if the idea was absolutely preposterous.

“Because you were always so kind. No matter how angry you were, you never spoke to me with anything other than kindness. And you’re tall, Godric knows that makes any girl fold,” you laugh. “And I thought you were pretty.”

“Pretty?” He looks scared to ask, as if the answer would somehow sting.

“Yeah, I’ve always thought your beauty was more soft than other boys,” you look into his eyes, seeing the same boy you loved in your school years. “The other girls would always tell me how gorgeous Sirius was, and he was, but I was always too busy staring at you to notice.”

Maybe it was the fact that you finally had a soul your own age to talk to. Or maybe it was the familiarity of talking to an old friend, someone you once spent every waking moment with. But you told him everything, about how lonely you’ve been, about how awful you feel about hating Harry’s similarities to James, about how much you love Harry and how it hurts to not be by his side at all times.

You tell him everything.

And he listens to every word.

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Remus came over almost everyday until Harry was due to come home for Christmas.

He laughed with you, held you while you cried, and grieved with you. The way the two of you should have done all those years ago.

It felt as if the twelve years you were eleven years you were apart never happened.

“Auntie y/n! Over here!” Your nephew called, carrying his case for the holidays with him.

“Harry! Oh, I’ve missed you!” You say, placing your hands on his cheeks and kissing the crown of his head.

“It’s only been a couple of months.” He says, smiling at your antics,

“I know, I know, but you know I have no one to fret over while you’re away.”

Harry hugs you, the kind of hug he knows you need once you see him again.

Harry knows his Aunt struggles to be away from him, he also knows that she thinks he doesn’t know. But since a young age Harry has noticed the way he Aunt always hugs him tighter in the mornings, as if being away in her dreams was far too long, and how she always holds his hand while out and about, and how she sends weekly letter just to check he’s doing alright.

And he replies to every single one, because while others would see it as suffocating, Harry feels nothing to affection and gratitude towards his aunt, because he may be all she had, but she’s all he has in return. And if a letter a week soothes her mind, he has no quarrels in doing that.

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Harry was beyond happy that Remus would be spending Christmas with them. To him, Remus was an extension of his Father, one more person he could ask to tell him stories and memories of the man he never truly met.

You would always tell him anything he wanted to know, but deep down you knew that he knew it pained you. And so he doesn’t ask much of you, but you wish he did.

“Did he get into trouble at school? My dad?” He asked at the dinner table, casting looks toward Remus and you.

You let a laugh slip past your lips, and you hold your hand to your mouth.

“Harry, your father invented trouble.” Remus told him, smiling fondly at the memories.

“Oh, come one. You talk as if you weren’t a step behind him at all times! More often than not, if my brother was in trouble, so were we!” You laughed, for the first time remembering your brother with joy rather than grief.

“And you talk as if you weren’t the mastermind behind most of that mischief.” He says, casting you a look of teasing and humour.

You gasp in faux shock, clasping your chest and looking towards your nephew.

“Absolutely false, Harry. I was no trouble in school.”

Harry laughed then, “Professor McGonagall says otherwise.”

You stop and snap your attention to your Nephew as Remus laughs, no longer able to eat.

“What?” You say, a little panicked, mostly laughing.

Harry watches as his Aunt and who he now sees as an Uncle playfully bicker and argue about who was more trouble to who, and wonders when they’ll realise just how in love they are.

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You’re clearing the table after Christmas dinner, stacking plates into piles and wrapping left overs in foil. Harry had retreated to his room to tend to his new quidditch set before the traditional Christmas movie night before bed, and y/n took it as a great opportunity to clear up.

A hand touched the small of her back, moving her slightly to the left as he squeezed by, taking the plates from her hands.

“You don’t need to do that, I’ve got it.” He says softly, sending her a small wink before carrying them over to the sink.

“Let me do something then, because you did most of the cooking and now you won’t let me clean.” You complained, not a single trace of discontent in your voice.

He turns to you, humour in his eyes but a frown on his lips.

“And what if I want to do all of this, then what?”

“Then you’ll just have to deal with me helping.” You say, stepping closer. You’re standing in front of him now, holding a cup full of cutlery in one hand and a plate of leftovers in the other. “Mr Lupin, I believe you’re blocking my way to the fridge.”

“Oh am I? Thats a shame, I guess I’ll have to take these off your hands then.” He says, taking the plate and cutlery and placing them on the side.

You’re about to argue when he turns back to you, much closer than before. “Let me help you.”

“You’ve done more than enough.” You say in a small voice.

“And what if I want to do more?” His hand reaches up and places a strand of your dark hair behind your ear, but his hand doesn’t fall, it stays put against your cheek.

You look up to see a branch of mistletoe growing from your ceiling, right between the two of you.

His eyes never leave your face, more accurately your lips as your breathing gets heavier.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so small you barely hear it. All you can do is nod as his other hand is placed ever so gently on your waist, pulling you in.

He places his lips on yours, and it’s the most gentle kiss, but you feel the weight of a thousand words that have never been said behind it, pushing him closer.

To Remus’ surprise, it was you who intensified the kiss, placing a hand behind his head and pushing further into him. When you broke apart to breathe, he placed his forehead onto yours and closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve loved you for a while now, Miss Potter.”

“I’ve loved you always, Mr Lupin.”

What neither of the two seemed to notice, was their nephew sitting at the top of his stairs tucking his wand back into his pocket, closing the book about growing magical plants with spells.

Perseverance Masterlist

Nico DiAngelo x Male!Reader

Ongoing Last Updated: June 23rd, 2022 PSA that I advise you read

One, Two, Action (Unedited)

Star Light, Star Bright (Unedited)

Overture (Unedited)

Loose Ends (Unedited)

Feel My Wrath and Extreme Self-Doubt (Unedited)

Reblog if you love Newt

Everybody better reblog

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Jefferson’s Sugar Cube AU Masterlist

Jefferson might have kidnapped you.  He might have kept you against your will, but somewhere along the lines, you fell for this mad and handsome husband of yours.  He’s a bit unhinged, but he makes sure his Sugar Cube is doted upon and well taken care of.

Adventures in Underland

Welcome to the Tea Party

Maze Chase

Golden Afternoon

Painting the Roses Red

We’re All Mad Here

I’m Late, I’m Late

Through The Looking Glass

A/N:  these have dark themes.  Jefferson did take reader against her will.  There will be themes of basement wife, chase kink, breeding kink, knife kinks, and many more.  Also there’s tons of nods to the Alice and Wonderland story/movies.  YOU are the one responsible for the content in which you consume.

*divider created by @firefly-graphics

:))

Hellloooo!!! I don’t wanna add to your workload so if this just piles on, please delete it! 😅😊 I just had an idea for a newt x reader fic where they’re in an established relationship in the Glade and during a bonfire one night the boys all ask newt questions about what it’s like to date reader and how it feels and newt just answers with the upmost sweetness. Reader overhears and fluff ensues!!!!

fluff ensues has got to be one of my favorite plot descriptions. like yeah it absolutely will do that (and no worries, nothing will stop the workload from being! newt just helps make it better <3)

masterlist

Newt is aware that he is a little bit luckier than most. This is a sentiment that he never thought he’d be caught dead believing. Not in the Glade. Not in the Maze. Not anywhere in this surreal mess of a place. Yet it’s on repeat in his head on a day to day basis nonetheless, ticking off the hours like an alarm clock consisting solely of his blessings. 

Newt didn’t think he’d have that much to brag about. No memories means no history he can mention to his equally luckless friends. Still, he’s got one important victory in his life that no one else can even dream of, and that’s the fact that he’s dating Y/N. Yeah, that certainly sets him apart in the world of good things given to kids who can’t quite convince themselves they deserve them. 

Some would say that Newt is being a little dramatic. He would argue that his response is perfectly within reason. One girl has been sent up in all the months that anyone’s been in the Glade, one girl and one girl alone, and she just happened to choose him. Around here, that’s grounds for being nominated for sainthood. 

Newt isn’t going to act like he’s not just over the moon every time he thinks about the whole situation. Against all odds, Y/N fell in love with him. That’s so unreal that Newt has to pinch himself every hour on the hour just to make sure it isn’t a dream. He never tries too hard, though. Just in case. 

He didn’t have many thoughts on love before she came up. There wasn’t really time now, was there? It was just him and the scores of other stragglers making do in their bloody terrible world. You don’t spend much time lingering over potential sweethearts when the closest thing to a Romeo is Gally yelling at everyone in the Glade except his friends.

Not great dating material, to say the least. Even when Y/N came up that one month, though, he still hadn’t fallen for her from the start. He liked her, obviously, she was nice and didn’t test his patience, but he was perfectly content to keep her as a friend, just that. Great expectations have a way of letting you down. Newt’s learned that if you keep your eyes on the ground, stop looking up at the sun and stars, you’ll be able to deal with it a little easier when all your brightest aspirations go away.

He’d done that before and he planned on doing it again. Even as time passed and he realized that his heart had a funny way of speeding up whenever she was nearby, when it occurred to him that his daily routines always had a way of working in chances to see her, Newt forced himself to ignore everything. Maybe he liked the way the morning sunlight always played on Y/N’s face, maybe he could have spent hours wondering over the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs. It was nothing that he could ever commit to treasuring above anything else.

It took several rounds of self-talk and about a dozen different interventions staged by his friends for Newt to get up the courage to tell Y/N how he felt. Hell, it took at least half of those interventions for him to even admit how he felt to himself. Newt had been internalizing for so long that bringing some of those emotions to the forefront of his attention was damned near impossible. Minho, Alby, and a few others, however, were so sick of seeing him ‘mope around like a lovesick fool,’ to quote them specifically, that they were dedicated to the task of getting him in order.

It worked, too. Newt had run through what could have been a hundred speech variations in his head, all mentioning her character or her sense of humor or any one of the millions of things he liked about her best. In the end, he didn’t choose a single one. The second Newt pulled Y/N away from a crowd of their friends for ‘something he needed to say in private,’ every single whirlwind of thoughts storming through his head came to an abrupt stop. He totally blanked out. 

Newt wouldn’t even know that he managed to force any words out at all were it not for the fact that the effects of that interaction are quite obvious. Somehow, Y/N ended up returning his affections, and they’ve been doing pretty well ever since. Newt doesn’t like counting his eggs before they hatch and all that, but he’d go so far as to say that he doesn’t see it ever breaking down for quite some time, if ever. They’re alright. They’re great, and they’re happy, and in a place like this, you take that and run with it for as long as you can. Maybe it’ll ruin itself someday, but Newt plans on pushing that off to the distant future for forever and a day.

In the meantime, Newt gets to think about how lucky he is. Despite the fact that Y/N’s apparently been crushing on him for just as long as he started liking her, and despite the fact that Frypan proclaims on a daily basis that he’s never seen two shanks more alike, Newt still feels like all of this is just one great coincidence. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it did, and he’s going to love that and her for as long as he can.

She’s waiting for him now, he thinks. Work is over for the day, and there’s a Bonfire Night happening this evening too, courtesy of the shivering Greenie fresh out of the Box who still can’t seem to keep his shock from showing. The fool to whom this celebration is owed looks like he’s going to keel over, what from the way he keeps half doing a backbend from continually craning his neck up to stare at the Walls, but the rest of them can get drunk and fuck around and generally have a good time. 

Greenies never appreciate their Bonfire Nights enough anyway. It’s up to the rest of the Gladers to show them what it’s like to have fun. Who knows the next time they’ll be able to stop stressing over the ruins of their lives anyway? Newt’s heard half a dozen Gladers proclaim that they only live bonfire to bonfire anyway. They might as well prove it tonight.

Newt meets Y/N on the outskirts of the bonfire just as the dark starts to fall. Dusk kicks up its heels, keeping watch over the revels and hiding the sun, which can never bear to see whatever mistakes they’re going to make next. Y/N holds out a hand to him, one Newt gladly accepts.

“I can’t believe it’s been six months now since I first showed up,” she grins, gesturing towards the Box with her free hand, “Feels like just yesterday.”

Newt snorts. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Trust me, the Greenie Days get faster and faster. I swear I just finished touring the last kid, and now we’ve got another one to keep pestering us with questions.”

Y/N shakes her head, considering this. “Nah, I think this one will be better. He’s too scared to speak above a whisper. If you try, you can just ignore him.”

Newt chuckles. “I’m not supposed to be bullying the Greenies. Alby says I’m meant to set a good example.”

“I saw Alby telling Minho to trip the new kid to see if he’d finally make a sound if he bit the dirt,” Y/N comments, “I don’t think kindness is really in our books.”

Newt arches a brow. “I could see that happening. Did it work?”

“No,” Y/N says, disappointed, “Kid was so scared to move a muscle that he didn’t fall at all. Just kind of stopped walking like he’d hit a wall instead of Minho’s ankle.”

Newt tries to bite back a smile. He’s only half successful. “Shame. That would have been fun to see.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s what I said. Anyways, they’re all over there, near the fire. I think the next strategy is to give the kid some of Gally’s brew in the hopes that it’ll coax something out of him other than his dinner.”

Newt shudders. “Best of luck to him.”

“And to me,” Y/N replies, “I think I’m going to get a glass of my own. See you in a second.”

Newt waves a casual hand in goodbye, watching as his girlfriend weaves through the steadily forming crowds of Gladers in an attempt to track down a drink. He takes a seat near an overturned log, staring into the fire as it disappears into sparks. Six months since Y/N appeared in the Box, so it’s been indeed.

Newt can’t decide whether that feels like a long time or not nearly long enough. Y/N’s changed him in almost every way, that much is obvious. Sometimes, in meeting someone you know will impact you forever, you almost want them to have been around for much longer. Strangers aren’t meant to become your best friends, not until you’ve known them for years and you have scores of memories to share. You want to give them decades in your mind, centuries, as a sign that they’ve been so important to you. Mere months aren’t enough. Surely it should be more.

It isn’t, and maybe that’s for the best. Newt has no memories save for when he came up his own share of months ago. All his friends are new, all his enemies still more recent. Maybe the girl he loves has only been in his life for a short time, but his recorded life is short indeed. Everything is modern. That’s just how it is.

Newt becomes aware of eyes on him and realizes that he might not be the only one reminiscing about when Y/N came up in the maze. A few Gladers have come up by Newt’s side, steadily appearing out of the gloom and smoke to stare at him.

Newt glances at them questioningly, and a few moments later the bravest of them dares to voice their collective thoughts. “What’s it like dating Y/N?” The boy asks, “you know, since she’s the only girl?”

Newt smiles to himself. “It’s great,” he says.

This clearly isn’t the response the other boy wants. “Yeah,” he repeats, “but what’s it like? It’s not like the rest of us have our own girlfriends to compare it with.”

Newt bites back a laugh. “Well,” he begins, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the other boys draw closer to him expectantly, “it’s like having a best friend, but even better. She’s someone I can talk to at any time, but I don’t have to worry about seeming uncool or weird around her. Y/N knows exactly who I am, the good and the bad, but she’s chosen to be with me anyway. It makes you feel like you can do anything.”

The boy nods, accepting this. “Are you ever worried that she’s going to get tired of you and leave you for someone else?”

“If you’re asking me if I’m worried about competition,” Newt says slowly, “I’d say, don’t think you even have a chance. She’s my girlfriend, you bloody shank, not some object you can steal away. Anyway, obviously I’d like it if she stayed with me a while longer, but I’m not scared, no. I know that we’re happy, and that’s enough.”

The boy’s face flushes scarlet when Newt calls him out, but he seems to have made his peace with it at the end. Newt’s half expecting more questions, but all of a sudden they scatter to the corners of the celebration. A few moments later, the cause of the disturbance becomes obvious:  Y/N herself takes a seat next to him, glass in hand.

“It seems like you had a score of admirers,” she says, lips twitching up into a smile.

Newt groans. “More like your admirers, trust me. They wanted to ask about what it was like to date you. Not something I thought I’d be discussing with the Slicers-in-training, but why not?”

Y/N laughs. “Oh, I know. I have to say, though, it was very sweet. Being with me makes you feel like you can do anything?”

Newt feels his entire face heat up, and he briefly ponders launching himself into the fire to escape it. “I didn’t realize you were eavesdropping. That’s rude, you know.”

Y/N just grins. “I do apologize. It was very sweet, though. I appreciated it.”

Newt rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep a smile off of his face for long. “Does that mean you won’t leave me for some random boy who showed up a few months ago?”

“I’ll consider it,” she assures him, “like you said, though, I wouldn’t worry much. I happen to like being with you quite a bit as well.”

Newt reaches over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, and they stay there for quite some time, watching the embers of the fire curl into ribbons of smoke up in the darkest reaches of the sky. The bonfire dances, their friends shout and clap and laugh all around them, and through it, they keep going. All is well.

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (gender neutral) Reader

Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

STATUS: Ongoing

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it's no wonder that most people refer to you as an 'old soul' who would've rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you've been left with some...unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

NOTE: Reader will use the name Hollie Stark and female pronouns during or when referring to past events, but will be use (Y/n) (L/n) and gender neutral pronouns for current events.

WARNINGS: (sorta) age gap, strong language, mentions of violence/depression/PTSD/Etc.

CHAPTERS: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10,

Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20,

Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30,

Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34,

Hello 👋, I hope you're doing well..

My name is Mahmoud, and I'm a 17-year-old from Gaza. The ongoing war has devastated my city, destroyed my school, and made daily life incredibly challenging.

Despite these hardships, I'm determined to continue my education and build a better future. I've been given a chance to study abroad, but I need help to cover the costs of leaving Gaza, as well as living expenses and other essentials abroad once the crossing opens.. 🙏

If you can, please consider donating or sharing, your kindness can truly make a difference, and thanks for your time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/bd3ccf0b 🔗

Unfortunately I can’t donate, but I can share :)