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it's me and the four people on ao3 who understand my favorite character in the exact same way against the world

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When it gives Newt Scamander vibes

voicemail

hey i i um i’m calling because i missed i mean i have a missed call? from earlier? from your area code and i thought maybe it was you you know because it was the same area code but ah it’s probably it probably was just a wrong number um haha i guess that’s oh the tulips! came back up in the garden, we were worried, remember? that they wouldn’t come back after the frost last winter they did though and i know i know how much you like them they look really nice really i uh i hope you’re doing all right and you know i       also also wanted to say about how last winter i’m really sorry about how we left that and i wanted to tell you so many times since then i really beep

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Preview: Fantastic Beasts, “The Line” (Twenty One Pilots)

Briefly got into Arcane, so I obviously had to start an FB edit

I like things a normal amount at all times.

Also I thought this was going to be a light reprieve from constantly thinking about fascism (hence avoiding my fics) and yet… alas.

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Newt apparating Theseus out of the amphitheater was everything.

Also, it’s amazing that Newt was able to apparate them out of there without splinching, considering all the chaos that had happened and was happening. It’s great that he was still able to focus well enough to apparate out of there safely, especially since Theseus was trying to break out of Newt’s grip and close to succeeding.

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Actually me in mod AUs though lmao

Wizards used to laugh at non-wizards for being so primitive, doing everything manually. But that was before technology started outpacing magic. You really got a sense of how serious this was when you saw the greatest mage of your age sitting right next to you in your thermodynamics class.

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I’d never noticed Theseus’ movements in the scene in that last gif. Sure, he’s a well-trained auror, but the man was also absolutely ready to fraternally throw down.

Protective big brother. 😌

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A Wild and Precious Life — Chapters 1 & 2

Summary

In early 2024, Newt Scamander is injured during a conservation project in Burkina Faso. As usual, he gets better, but then… he doesn't. Meanwhile, Tina Goldstein is head of the auror office within the UK’s Department of International Magical Cooperation. Her sister and Jacob have just moved to London; and she and Newt are meant to be married in a matter of weeks. When Newt’s routine checkup suddenly turns concerning, the news comes hurtling at a speed they aren't prepared for... It turns out wizards aren’t impervious to everything; and now Newt and Tina are stuck between a wedding and a timeline that's determined to change their lives.

Opening Scene (Chapter 1)

Newt pounded up the stairs from the basement and screeched to a halt in the kitchen, hiking boots squeaking on the tiles as he dropped his [perfectly unordinary] briefcase onto the floor just a wee bit harder than he’d meant to... His eyes scanned the room for wherever he’d last left the tea kettle and – invariably – his ever-missing, godforsaken phone.

The sound of Tina’s hair-drying charms buzzed from the bathroom as he cast a location spell for both:

A bright ping!! drew him to a stack of papers by the stove (which, shuffling through them, revealed his half-charged phone, already stacked with notification banners…); while a gasping hiss! led him straight to the kettle in the sink, where he’d apparently left it the night before when they’d hurried to the bedroom.

(Monday night had been Tina’s 28th birthday and—after a well-deserved get-together at her favourite restaurant with their her various friends and colleagues… Well… Upon returning home, Tina had simply needed celebrating.)

But now, in the light of day—(as Newt struggled with the inevitably stubborn lid on the top of the kettle)—he caught sight of a pale gold band beside a maroon-stained pair of wine glasses, the ring’s warmth contrasting subtly with the brush-stained silver of their kitchen sink...

He gave up on the kettle and charmed it open instead, shouting over his shoulder (always a battle over Tina’s clatter in the bathroom — gentle mornings were not her forté):

“Tina love!”

But he paused then, swearing under his breath, for he’d enchanted the water in the kettle to boil before even thinking of setting it on a trivet, and thus his hand—

“You’ve left your ring by the sink again!”

He shook out his burnt fingers with a huff, pulling a battered green travel mug (Central African Conservation Conference - 2018) from a cabinet just as the drawer in the bathroom finally slammed shut—

“I keep telling you…” he muttered absently, and Tina’s routine morning noises suddenly died out. “It’ll get knocked into the drain. Or Teddy’ll run off with it. And I haven’t got another royalty check until after the wedding, so if you could –”

But he stopped mid-sentence then, for Tina was suddenly beside him with an abrupt and unexpected tenderness, slipping the citrine ring back onto her finger and pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. She dropped a fragrant Earl Grey tea bag into his mug before nudging it toward him and suggesting firmly, crossing her arms–

“Add honey to that, Newt. Your cough sounded terrible this morning.”

Newt flicked his eyes up to her at that, summoning the honey with an acquiescent but mildly amused grimace. “It did, didn’t it?”

For good measure, he squeezed a half lemon into his travel mug with a half-smile (the tagline ‘I survived erumpent mating season!!’ still made him laugh, even six years later); and Tina moved a step closer to brush a lock of unruly hair from his brow.

“And ask about it at the healers, won’t you?” she prompted. “ When you go in for your check-up? At your final examination this afternoon.”

“Oh - um - right… ”

He most definitely hadn’t forgotten about his second [three-month] follow-up for his January runespoor bite. (There was a reason Tina had merged their calendars the moment they moved in together the year before, and it certainly wasn’t because Newt was the superior timekeeper...)

“It’s been two weeks and the pepper-up’s not working,” Tina continued from where she’d crouched in front of the refrigerator, eventually selecting a Pyrex dish of leftovers to shove into her bag. “Maybe you picked somethin’ up in Spain last month?”

“Ah - no - I couldn’t have,” he murmured, flicking his wand to imbue Hello Newt!!! St. Mungo���s! 12.20! on his hand with waterproof ink and a buzzing reminder spell so he wouldn’t forget. “I mean, apart from pox, humans can’t catch things from dragons, can they? Their diseases simply aren’t zoonotic. And none of the ones I was working with were even sick. Breeding consult, you see,” he clarified.

“Fine, Mr. Scamander,” Tina harrumphed goodnaturedly, and then she was back at the counter, reheating coffee to pour into her own simple travel mug. “But – honey – coughing up a lung under the chuppah wouldn’t be cute, so maybe humour me this time.”

“Well. When you put it that way…” he conceded, returning to the whirlwind of his own morning preparations to get out the door. “Yes, I’ll ask. Of course.”

He had just finished attaching a leather strap to his briefcase to make travelling easier when he suddenly – (actually) – caught his fiancee’s eye, fully registering her striking comportment and demeanour for the first time that morning.

He immediately paused (frozen), for Tina stood particularly straight-backed, in an uncharacteristically well-polished outfit, having apparently swapped her casual slacks and button-ups for a fitted maroon pantsuit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a pair of no-nonsense (but brightly shined) chunky black oxfords.

She raised her eyebrows as Newt continued to stare at her. “Yes, Newt?”

“You - “ He paused to swallow. “You just look very nice today, Tina…”

A beat.

“Thank you.” She smiled and blushed, adjusting the lapel of her cropped suit jacket before taking a step closer to smooth out a wrinkle on Newt’s—conversely—well-loved summer cardigan.

In return, he ran a gentle thumb over a spot on her neck, dissolving the light love bruise back into the creamy tone of her skin with a subtly murmured wandless spell.

“I’ve got planning for that international summit—the one in Vienna—this morning,” she explained with a slight frown. “And then meetings with the French consulate all afternoon.” A huff. “Like, all afternoon, Newt… It’s a pain! But Queenie insists I’ll be taken more seriously if I look my best, so—”

She gestured at her outfit –

“Here we are, I guess.”

Newt tilted his head with a frown, rocking on his heels before patting down his pockets to check for keys, notebook, phone.

“You ought to be taken seriously because you’re the best international auror they’ve got,” he argued haltingly, shoving his wand up his sleeve. “Not just because you dress better than them.”

She guffawed and patted him on the back (in such a way that he would have been offended if it were anyone else), flicking her wand to turn the lights off.

“It might be 2024, Newt, but I’m still a witch under the age of thirty in international magical relations.”

And then they both wove through the slightly cluttered front room of their flat (currently littered with various wedding paraphernalia) toward the door, travel mugs clutched tightly in hand, as she concluded:

“It’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Yeah, yes, that’s true,” he acknowledged, when they paused on the stoop. Tina fumbled for her keys and then cast a subtle protective ward on the door behind them. “S’not exactly a walk in the park as an autistic scientist either, I suppose.”

“No, it’s not,” she laughed, and then he leaned in—accidentally bumping their mugs together—to press one hand to the side of her face and soundly kiss her.

“And that,” she murmured against his lips, as they pulled slightly apart, “is precisely why we work…”

Newt smiled, and then shoved Pickett back down into his cardigan pocket when he began to peek out.

“But please don’t lose track of time in the highlands and miss your appointment again!” Tina suddenly pleaded. “I just want everything cleared before the wedding, before our honeymoon…”

“Look,” he countered flatly, “I won’t forget as long as you don’t forget the takeaway.”

“Deal. Thai. 6PM,” she agreed, taking a step further away from him and then looking both ways to check for any particularly attentive Muggles… (They’d at least long ago charmed the front of the flat to be resistant to technological recording devices.) “All clear then.”

A beat.

“Be safe, Newt!” she insisted with finality, and he rolled his eyes.

They squeezed one another’s hands one last time before dropping them into pockets and – on the count of three – they each disapparated to their respective jobs: one to a stuffy conference room in the Department for International Magical Cooperation, and the other one to a crevasse on the highest mountain in the United Kingdom.

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A Wild and Precious Life — Chapters 1 & 2

Summary

In early 2024, Newt Scamander is injured during a conservation project in Burkina Faso. As usual, he gets better, but then… he doesn't. Meanwhile, Tina Goldstein is head of the auror office within the UK’s Department of International Magical Cooperation. Her sister and Jacob have just moved to London; and she and Newt are meant to be married in a matter of weeks. When Newt’s routine checkup suddenly turns concerning, the news comes hurtling at a speed they aren't prepared for... It turns out wizards aren’t impervious to everything; and now Newt and Tina are stuck between a wedding and a timeline that's determined to change their lives.

Opening Scene (Chapter 1)

Newt pounded up the stairs from the basement and screeched to a halt in the kitchen, hiking boots squeaking on the tiles as he dropped his [perfectly unordinary] briefcase onto the floor just a wee bit harder than he’d meant to... His eyes scanned the room for wherever he’d last left the tea kettle and – invariably – his ever-missing, godforsaken phone.

The sound of Tina’s hair-drying charms buzzed from the bathroom as he cast a location spell for both:

A bright ping!! drew him to a stack of papers by the stove (which, shuffling through them, revealed his half-charged phone, already stacked with notification banners…); while a gasping hiss! led him straight to the kettle in the sink, where he’d apparently left it the night before when they’d hurried to the bedroom.

(Monday night had been Tina’s 28th birthday and—after a well-deserved get-together at her favourite restaurant with their her various friends and colleagues… Well… Upon returning home, Tina had simply needed celebrating.)

But now, in the light of day—(as Newt struggled with the inevitably stubborn lid on the top of the kettle)—he caught sight of a pale gold band beside a maroon-stained pair of wine glasses, the ring’s warmth contrasting subtly with the brush-stained silver of their kitchen sink...

He gave up on the kettle and charmed it open instead, shouting over his shoulder (always a battle over Tina’s clatter in the bathroom — gentle mornings were not her forté):

“Tina love!”

But he paused then, swearing under his breath, for he’d enchanted the water in the kettle to boil before even thinking of setting it on a trivet, and thus his hand—

“You’ve left your ring by the sink again!”

He shook out his burnt fingers with a huff, pulling a battered green travel mug (Central African Conservation Conference - 2018) from a cabinet just as the drawer in the bathroom finally slammed shut—

“I keep telling you…” he muttered absently, and Tina’s routine morning noises suddenly died out. “It’ll get knocked into the drain. Or Teddy’ll run off with it. And I haven’t got another royalty check until after the wedding, so if you could –”

But he stopped mid-sentence then, for Tina was suddenly beside him with an abrupt and unexpected tenderness, slipping the citrine ring back onto her finger and pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. She dropped a fragrant Earl Grey tea bag into his mug before nudging it toward him and suggesting firmly, crossing her arms–

“Add honey to that, Newt. Your cough sounded terrible this morning.”

Newt flicked his eyes up to her at that, summoning the honey with an acquiescent but mildly amused grimace. “It did, didn’t it?”

For good measure, he squeezed a half lemon into his travel mug with a half-smile (the tagline ‘I survived erumpent mating season!!’ still made him laugh, even six years later); and Tina moved a step closer to brush a lock of unruly hair from his brow.

“And ask about it at the healers, won’t you?” she prompted. “ When you go in for your check-up? At your final examination this afternoon.”

“Oh - um - right… ”

He most definitely hadn’t forgotten about his second [three-month] follow-up for his January runespoor bite. (There was a reason Tina had merged their calendars the moment they moved in together the year before, and it certainly wasn’t because Newt was the superior timekeeper...)

“It’s been two weeks and the pepper-up’s not working,” Tina continued from where she’d crouched in front of the refrigerator, eventually selecting a Pyrex dish of leftovers to shove into her bag. “Maybe you picked somethin’ up in Spain last month?”

“Ah - no - I couldn’t have,” he murmured, flicking his wand to imbue Hello Newt!!! St. Mungo’s! 12.20! on his hand with waterproof ink and a buzzing reminder spell so he wouldn’t forget. “I mean, apart from pox, humans can’t catch things from dragons, can they? Their diseases simply aren’t zoonotic. And none of the ones I was working with were even sick. Breeding consult, you see,” he clarified.

“Fine, Mr. Scamander,” Tina harrumphed goodnaturedly, and then she was back at the counter, reheating coffee to pour into her own simple travel mug. “But – honey – coughing up a lung under the chuppah wouldn’t be cute, so maybe humour me this time.”

“Well. When you put it that way…” he conceded, returning to the whirlwind of his own morning preparations to get out the door. “Yes, I’ll ask. Of course.”

He had just finished attaching a leather strap to his briefcase to make travelling easier when he suddenly – (actually) – caught his fiancee’s eye, fully registering her striking comportment and demeanour for the first time that morning.

He immediately paused (frozen), for Tina stood particularly straight-backed, in an uncharacteristically well-polished outfit, having apparently swapped her casual slacks and button-ups for a fitted maroon pantsuit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a pair of no-nonsense (but brightly shined) chunky black oxfords.

She raised her eyebrows as Newt continued to stare at her. “Yes, Newt?”

“You - “ He paused to swallow. “You just look very nice today, Tina…”

A beat.

“Thank you.” She smiled and blushed, adjusting the lapel of her cropped suit jacket before taking a step closer to smooth out a wrinkle on Newt’s—conversely—well-loved summer cardigan.

In return, he ran a gentle thumb over a spot on her neck, dissolving the light love bruise back into the creamy tone of her skin with a subtly murmured wandless spell.

“I’ve got planning for that international summit—the one in Vienna—this morning,” she explained with a slight frown. “And then meetings with the French consulate all afternoon.” A huff. “Like, all afternoon, Newt… It’s a pain! But Queenie insists I’ll be taken more seriously if I look my best, so—”

She gestured at her outfit –

“Here we are, I guess.”

Newt tilted his head with a frown, rocking on his heels before patting down his pockets to check for keys, notebook, phone.

“You ought to be taken seriously because you’re the best international auror they’ve got,” he argued haltingly, shoving his wand up his sleeve. “Not just because you dress better than them.”

She guffawed and patted him on the back (in such a way that he would have been offended if it were anyone else), flicking her wand to turn the lights off.

“It might be 2024, Newt, but I’m still a witch under the age of thirty in international magical relations.”

And then they both wove through the slightly cluttered front room of their flat (currently littered with various wedding paraphernalia) toward the door, travel mugs clutched tightly in hand, as she concluded:

“It’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Yeah, yes, that’s true,” he acknowledged, when they paused on the stoop. Tina fumbled for her keys and then cast a subtle protective ward on the door behind them. “S’not exactly a walk in the park as an autistic scientist either, I suppose.”

“No, it’s not,” she laughed, and then he leaned in—accidentally bumping their mugs together—to press one hand to the side of her face and soundly kiss her.

“And that,” she murmured against his lips, as they pulled slightly apart, “is precisely why we work…”

Newt smiled, and then shoved Pickett back down into his cardigan pocket when he began to peek out.

“But please don’t lose track of time in the highlands and miss your appointment again!” Tina suddenly pleaded. “I just want everything cleared before the wedding, before our honeymoon…”

“Look,” he countered flatly, “I won’t forget as long as you don’t forget the takeaway.”

“Deal. Thai. 6PM,” she agreed, taking a step further away from him and then looking both ways to check for any particularly attentive Muggles… (They’d at least long ago charmed the front of the flat to be resistant to technological recording devices.) “All clear then.”

A beat.

“Be safe, Newt!” she insisted with finality, and he rolled his eyes.

They squeezed one another’s hands one last time before dropping them into pockets and – on the count of three – they each disapparated to their respective jobs: one to a stuffy conference room in the Department for International Magical Cooperation, and the other one to a crevasse on the highest mountain in the United Kingdom.

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I expect it’s just their way of organizing things, but it’s been haunting me since October, lmao. Like, yes, it’s been a year since I updated this particular fic, but I’ve posted aprx 3 since then. And I once had a 130k fic ‘active’ for 5+ years before I actually posted the whole thing. So, in context, I’m like… Sir, it obviously will be done! I have so many words already written! 😆

Specifically writing the missing 1k words to get me to the next chapter for the person who added my fic to their —

list.

Because y’all —

I WILL NEVER GIVE UP ON TEEN!THESEUS & BB!NEWT. The absolute audacity to suggest it🥺😭😭

I love them your honor

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Specifically writing the missing 1k words to get me to the next chapter for the person who added my fic to their —

list.

Because y’all —

I WILL NEVER GIVE UP ON TEEN!THESEUS & BB!NEWT. The absolute audacity to suggest it🥺😭😭

I love them your honor

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Feel like i need to post newtina content rn-

JUST LOOK AT THEM!! I need another fb movie cause i NEED to know what happened to them!! And i also need newtina kiss but thats besides the point

Also Newt's face when Lally mention's Tina is everything to me hello??? I am not someone who recognizes face expression nor what characters feel but if my boyfriend would look like that whenever soneone mentions me i'd die-

Might fr need to read some Newtina fic rn tbh😩

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New edit :)

Back on my "Leta-and-Newt-have-a-complicated-relationship-and- both-are-fascinating-characters-despite-the-fact-Leta-pretty-much-only-exists-in-the-films-to-further-the-Scamander-brothers'-character-arc" sh*t.

I think Leta gets the short end of the stick, especially in fandom, and I adore her.

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Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (2018)

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But what does it mean

From Harry Potter & the Sorcerers Stone 2001 gameboy game

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Congratulations Leta, your brother lives. We all truly believe it.

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MY FIRST EVER MANIP!!

Made this as a fanfiction cover for the fic I’m translating to Polish on my Wattpad

Newtina my beloved💗