A Fictional Man: *is Kinda Fucked Up*

Fave new twitter thread

youre in for jail time

“the marauders got the teenage years the golden trio couldn’t and the golden trio got the adulthood the marauders couldn’t get”

STFU😭😭😭😭

When I’m looking through the “x reader” tag, and even the TITLE SAYS “character x reader”, but when I start to read the fic it says “you have blonde hair, blue eyes, and your name is Hannah.”

If we had a nickel for every time Colin Firth played a posh and repressed British character named 'Darcy' who openly swoons at their love interest, we'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird godsent that it happened twice

in another universe you miss me too

Bernhard Schlink, The Reader (translated by Carol Brown Janeway)

argyle is the person you want on your team in an apocalypse

LOOK AT THIS LOOK AT THIS:

WOODWORKING skills

COOKING skills

TRACKING skills

FORAGING SKILLS??!

GUYS????? argyle needs to and will hopefully become an integral, ESSENTIAL member of the big kids gang. he knows so much and this is only addressing his survival skills

in THIS HOUSE, we love argyle!!!

Yellowjackets — 1x05, Blood Hive

Lana shot by Patrick Hoelck in 2013🤍

hi mae!! I love your writing. can I request ⁸⁾ a coat draped gently over a sleeping form with remus and shy!reader? congrats!!

Thanks lovely!

Remus Lupin x shy!reader ♡ 677 words

Remus makes Sirius turn down the music. The party’s winding down anyways, most of their friends having slunk off into the night. Lily and James are canoodling in the kitchen despite the former’s claims that they were going to have an early night, and Sirius has just abandoned his hosting duties to follow some bloke he likes to the McDonald’s down the street. 

Remus would usually leave about now, but for reasons he can’t explain he doesn’t want to tonight. (He looks at you, curled up and in the armchair, and…well, maybe he can explain those reasons a little bit.) He decides to start picking up. 

He’s careful not to let things clink or crackle as he works his way around the living room, collecting the bottles and cans well-meaning friends tucked into corners and forgot to come back for. Sirius’ rubbish bag is full, so Remus takes it out and starts filling a new one. When he opens the door on his way in and out, he notices your shoulders bunch like you’re cold, your knees curling closer to yourself. 

Remus stops on his way past the coat rack, grabbing his own coat. He drapes it carefully over you. Your cheek twitches like the wool tickles, but then you relax into the warmth. It does something unruly to Remus’ insides to witness. 

He picks up the bag again, meaning to continue, but your face moves again. You take a breath, a disruption of the quiet rhythm of your sleep, and your fingers peek out from the collar of Remus’ coat. They curl around it as though to pull it tighter. 

Your eyelashes peel apart, slowly and in stages like you’re fighting their magnetic pull towards each other. Remus watches you come awake. Those first few blinks where you know nothing but comfort and ease, the gradual realization that the coat covering you isn’t yours, and finally the movement of your eyes towards him, a familiar timidness taking you. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologizes. His voice comes out soft, some part of him wanting to protect whatever sleep might still be clinging to you. “You looked like you were cold.” 

You shake your head, seemingly not knowing what to say. Your hand lets go of his coat to cover your mouth, and you yawn hard enough to make your eyes teary. 

“Thank you,” you say once you’re done, voice softer than soft and expression self-conscious. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You look around. “Has everyone gone?” 

“Not everyone. James and Lily are in the kitchen.” 

“Oh no.” You sit up, letting Remus’ coat fall off your shoulder. Immediately, another yawn takes you, so powerful you have to stop to cover it again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Remus chides, “you’re always welcome. Sirius doesn’t mind.” 

You shrug, your shoulders staying up a tad high even when you’ve completed the motion. He gets the sense that you don’t believe him, though it’s not in your nature to argue. 

“Did you drive here?” he asks you kindly. 

Your fingers play with a bit of fuzz on Remus’ coat. “No. I walked.” 

“Are you ready to go home? I can walk you.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to.” You seem to shrink in on yourself. The smile you give him is meant to placate, small and bashful. “It’s not far.” 

“That makes it even easier for me to walk you,” Remus replies. He goes and grabs another coat from the rack. “This one yours?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “But really, Remus, you don’t have to.” 

“I want to. Let me, okay?” He holds your coat, waiting patiently for you to get up. 

When you do you can hardly look at him, passing him his own coat with a quiet thanks for this. He helps you into yours, then leaves you to put on your shoes while he goes to get his scarf from the other room. 

“Don’t leave without me,” he tells you. 

And, well, it’s not in your nature to argue.