glueandmorphemes

[glueandmorphemes]

drown - @rosekillermicrofic - wc: 608

Regulus had three crumpled pages of crossed-out phrases scattered around the living room and one half-drunk glass of wine balanced precariously on a stack of wedding magazines.

Barty was upside down on the couch, legs hooked over the back, head hanging off the edge like gravity didn't concern him. He was tossing a stress ball into the air repeatedly, sometimes catching it, sometimes letting it bounce off his face.

"You're the worst best man," Regulus said flatly, staring at his blank notebook. "You’ve been here for an hour and the only thing you’ve said is that marriage sounds like drowning.”

Barty let the ball drop onto the carpet and shrugged. “Well, it does.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “In what way?”

“In the way that it starts off warm,” Barty replied, shifting to sit up, hair askew. “Comfortable, familiar. Then you realize you can’t breathe anymore and the pressure’s caving your ribs in.”

Regulus blinked. “That is bleak. Even for you.”

Barty grinned, smug and unapologetic. “You asked.”

“I asked for help writing my wedding vows, not a metaphor for emotional asphyxiation.”

“Same difference.”

Regulus stared at him for a moment, then closed his notebook with a quiet sigh and sipped his wine. “Do you actually believe that, or are you just being dramatic because James made you wear pink at the tux fitting?”

“I’m being dramatic because I haven’t had dinner and you bribed me over here with the promise of pizza that never came,” Barty muttered.

Regulus huffed. “I’ll order it when you give me one decent line for my vows.”

Barty stared at the ceiling as if the answer might be carved into it. “Fine. How about—‘James, you are the fire that makes my cold, black heart feel something resembling life.’”

Regulus gagged.

Barty smirked. “No? Too intense? Okay. ‘James, I tolerate you slightly more than most people.’”

“Barty.”

“‘James, I would die for you, and that’s the nicest thing I’ll ever say to a Gryffindor.’”

“Do you want to be uninvited from the wedding?”

Barty grinned wider. “You wouldn’t dare. You’re stuck with me. I have the rings, remember?”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. There was affection buried beneath the sarcasm; a long, complicated friendship that somehow never imploded. After a moment of silence, Regulus asked more quietly:

“What about you?”

Barty raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“If Evan asked you to marry him.” Regulus looked at him with a strange kind of curiosity. “Would you say yes?”

The question sat in the air between them like an unexploded bomb.

Barty looked away, mouth twitching like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or combust.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “Maybe. If he asked with a ball gag and a shotgun, I might consider it.”

Regulus gave him a look.

Barty sighed and flopped back on the couch again. “He’s annoying. He talks too much. He leaves the cap off the toothpaste. He plays indie music in the morning and sings off-key in the shower.”

“And?”

“And sometimes when he’s asleep,” Barty said, softer now, “he reaches for me in his dreams. And when he wakes up, he never lets go.”

Regulus didn’t say anything.

“So yeah. I guess I’d marry him,” Barty muttered. “If I ever stopped feeling like I’m one bad thought away from ruining everything.”

Regulus looked at him, truly looked at him. “That sounds more like a vow than anything you’ve given me tonight.”

Barty scowled. “Don’t you dare steal that.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Regulus said, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

They fell into a comfortable silence then, the kind only old friends could manage.

[glueandmorphemes]

auror - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 783

Regulus adjusts the collar of Harry’s jacket, kneeling beside him on the bustling sidewalk. It’s a crisp, breezy day in the city, and they’ve just come from the bookshop, Harry clutching his new pop-up dragon book like it’s treasure.

"Can we go to the park next?" Harry asks, wide-eyed and bouncing on his feet.

"If you don’t mind walking," Regulus replies, standing and offering his hand. "It’s a bit further down."

Harry takes it with his smaller one, swinging their arms as they walk down the cobblestone street lined with magical shops, streetlamps shaped like phoenixes flickering gently above.

They pass a café, a magical pets shop, and then a little commotion catches Harry’s eye. Two aurors stand on the other side of the road, wands drawn but calm, speaking with a shopkeeper while a third writes something on a notepad that floats in front of him.

Harry tugs Regulus’ hand. "Are those real Aurors?"

Regulus hums. "They are, yes."

Harry’s eyes go round. "Like the ones in the stories? The ones who chase bad guys and do all the spells?"

"The very same," Regulus says, keeping his tone light. "Though I imagine most of their job is paperwork and long stakeouts rather than dramatic duels in the rain."

Harry wrinkles his nose. “That sounds boring.”

Regulus chuckles. “It’s only boring if you don’t enjoy catching liars and thieves. Some people live for it.”

"Papa’s an Auror too, right?"

There’s something about the way Harry says Papa—like it’s a superhero title—that makes Regulus’ heart squeeze. He glances down, sees Harry’s bright face turned up to him, waiting for confirmation like it’s the most important thing in the world.

"He is," Regulus nods. "Your Papa is a very good Auror."

"Does he do the paperwork too?"

"Unfortunately for him, yes. Though he likes to pretend he doesn't. I caught him napping on a stack of reports just last week."

Harry giggles, and Regulus nudges him gently with his elbow.

"Papa always smells like... like burnt stuff and wind after work," Harry says thoughtfully. "Why is that?"

"Because he spends half the day chasing people in alleyways and jumping off things he probably shouldn’t be jumping off."

"Cool," Harry says in awe.

Regulus pretends to sigh. "You say that now. Wait until he comes home covered in soot and refuses to shower until after dinner. It’s less cool when the smell is sitting next to you at the table."

"But you still kiss him!" Harry grins.

Regulus falters for half a step but recovers quickly. "I do," he admits, cheeks tinged pink. "Even when he smells like trouble."

They cross the street as the Aurors wrap up their conversation and Disapparate with quiet cracks. Harry watches the spot where they disappeared.

“Do they ever get hurt?” he asks softly, suddenly subdued.

Regulus stops walking, kneeling beside him again. "Sometimes. It’s part of the job. But they train very hard so they can protect themselves and others. And they always have a team. Your Papa isn’t alone out there.”

Harry frowns, but he nods. “Okay.”

"Besides," Regulus adds, brushing some hair from Harry’s forehead, "he always comes back. He’d never leave us waiting."

"You too," Harry says. “You always wait for him.”

Regulus freezes, something catching in his chest. "Of course I do."

They stand in silence for a moment, then Harry leans into him, tucking his head against Regulus’ chest. Regulus hugs him tightly, hand rubbing small circles on his back.

It’s a quiet reminder of how much Harry understands, even without words.

"Let’s go to the park," Regulus says after a moment, standing and offering his hand again.

Harry takes it, and they start walking.

A beat passes.

"Can I be an Auror one day?"

"You can be whatever you want," Regulus says. Then, with a smirk: "But if you do become an Auror, you’ll have to learn how to write very fast and sit very still for long hours."

"Ew," Harry groans. "Maybe I’ll just be a dragon tamer instead."

"Much safer."

"You’re joking again," Harry accuses.

Regulus hums noncommittally. “I never joke.”

“Papa says you joke all the time.”

“Well, Papa is a known liar,” Regulus says, lifting his chin. “It’s in the reports. I have them filed.”

Harry laughs so hard he hiccups. “I’m telling him you said that!”

"You’re going to tattle?" Regulus gasps in mock betrayal. “After everything I’ve done for you? This is how it ends?”

“Yup!” Harry giggles. “You’re in so much trouble!”

Regulus smiles, the kind that softens everything in him, and tightens his grip on Harry’s hand just slightly. They keep walking toward the park, where the world is quieter and less uncertain.

[glueandmorphemes]

drown - @rosekillermicrofic - cw: barty jokes about drowning himself but it's a joke - word count: 322

It wasn’t until they were already down at the Black Lake, Evan, Dorcas and Pandora diving gracefully in the water, that Barty, who was sitting on the dock with Regulus, realized: Evan usually didn’t take his shirt off when they went swimming.

He’d never thought about it before. They’d been going down to the lake for six years now, playing Chicken and splashing around in rare moments of carefree joy, and he’d just never thought about it.

Maybe it was because he’d seen Evan shirtless before. Around the dorm, while he was changing, or after he showered. Maybe it was because last year, his brain hadn’t been regularly betraying him. He hadn’t been getting strange dreams about his best friend with less clothes on than was friendly, and he hadn’t been relentlessly wondering how Evan’s lips would feel on his.

But either way.

Now he noticed.

Because Evan Rosier, lifting himself out of the water, chest covered in sparkling droplets and smile nearly glowing in the sun…

Well, it sent Barty into an all-out, certified gay panic. 

“Reg. Reg, Reggie, Regulus!” He hissed, swatting his hands toward Regulus and earning an annoyed hit back. 

“What, Barty?”

“You don’t know how to swim, right? Fucking teach me how to drown.”

Regulus gave him an irritated look. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I can’t handle this. Push me under and don’t let me back up,” he whined, looking over to where Evan was running and jumping in again, groaning at the way the other boy’s thigh muscles were flexing.

Regulus quickly caught on. “Oh hell no. You have to deal with the same torture as I did when you refused to push me off my broom during the last Gryffindor-Slytherin game,” he chuckled, turning back to the book he was reading. “Now go swim, and do try to act like a functioning human.”

“You’re a shit friend,” Barty groaned.

“Takes one to know one.”

[glueandmorphemes]

kill - july 13 - jegulus - anon request for t4t jegulus! - @taylorswiftmicrofic - cw: slight internalized transphobia, dysphoria- word count: 426

“You fucking arse, James Potter!” he seethed, bursting into the locker room only to find the older Gryffindor standing there, leaning against the cool metal of the lockers, arms crossed with a smirk wide across his face.

“Hey, Reggie,” the taller boy greeted lightly. “Wow. If looks could kill.”

“No, I’m going to kill you,” the Slytherin corrected, striding forward to place one hand on the Gryffindor’s sternum, slamming him backwards with a loud bang! “What the fuck is this?” 

James grinned at the piece of parchment that had arrived to the younger at breakfast, just moments ago. “A love note.”

“A love note? It says–it says–” he took a deep, calming breath, air coming in through his nose and whistling out through his lips. “It says, ‘You’re the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen.’” The Slytherin made sure to grimace convincingly at the words, but pleasant warmth and confusing goosebumps broke out over flesh as they echoed throughout the empty room.

“It’s true,” James said, his face honest and genuine, and frustratingly clear. “So handsome.”

The younger hissed. “But it says…I’m not a…it says boy.”

Now, the Gryffindor’s expression was gentle, and infuriatingly knowing. “Are you not a boy, Reggie?”

“I…” Again, air flowed out through dry lips, as his heart kicked into triple-time. It was a secret he’d been hiding for so long. The confusion. The yearning. The feeling of being completely alien in his own, infuriatingly feminine body. The nausea every time he looked in the mirror.

Where there had been fire, maybe even attraction in James’s eyes only minutes ago, now there was sympathy. “I…I know how it feels. The way sometimes your skin like…crawls. Sometimes, I shower, and I want to be sick,” he chuckled derisively.

The Slytherin blinked. “How d’you…?” he asked nervously, terrified of being tricked.

But James gently removed the hand on his hand from his sternum and lifted his shirt. Underneath, rather than the bare (mouthwatering) chest he’d always imagined, there was chiseled stomach, followed by a thick, tan, crop-top-looking garment that seemed to press two small lumps of fat into his body.

“Merlin,” he gaped, realizing.

Shrugging, James dropped his shirt again. Then he smiled a bit more self-consciously at him. “So. You still mad?”

“You…think I’m handsome?” The Slytherin asked instead, gnawing on his lip and shifting from foot to foot. “You think I could be a boy?”

James chuckled. “I think you can be whatever feels best to you, love. But if you are a boy…I’d love for you to be my boyfriend, too. Someday soon.”

[glueandmorphemes]

oh... you're cis? like you still use the gender your parents picked out for you? no i mean that's fine if youre happy with it...... i guess i expected something a bit more mature :/ you sure you don't wanna try a new one? okay dude....

[glueandmorphemes]

charlie dalton: maybe in another universe my best friend isn’t dead.

another universe…

the poets and the marauders, different world same heartbreak

[glueandmorphemes]

Speak up...

jegulus x Vodka Cranberry - cw: angst, canon compliant - word count: 440

He’d expected yelling. 

He’d been dissociating since it’d happened, tears sometimes sliding down his cheeks without him even realizing, each swallow thick and difficult to complete. But in the back of his brain, some coherent part of him was panicking.

Body cold and chest empty, limbs shaking and breath coming out in short little gasps, he held out his forearm to James, expecting a….well, a reaction of some kind. 

But he just watched as blank eyes seemed to laser holes in the skull branded to his skin. Neither of them spoke a word for what felt like forever.

Until James took a deep, shuddering breath and met his eyes, a terrifying and almost cold look in the depths of his hazel irises. “Alright,” he said, sounding far too exhausted to only be seventeen. “Alright. We’ll deal with it.”

But for some reason, even though this was the exact verbal reaction Regulus wanted, it felt all wrong. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that, Potter,” he said. “I know you hate me.”

James immediately scoffed. “I don’t hate you, Regulus. It happened. You…you couldn’t help it.” But the foreign, rough way his words hit Regulus’s heart like sandpaper betrayed the truth–James didn’t believe that. He was lying to Regulus’s face for the first time.

And all at once, reality hit him:

This wasn’t going to work.

It was never meant to work.

Fuck. Don’t make me do this, Jamie, he thought desperately, stomach churning so much he almost gagged as he realized where this was going. Where they were always, inevitably meant to go.

“You can walk away, James,” he said flatly, desperately trying to keep his voice calm, to hide the storm of emotions brewing inside his heart, threatening to make him scream with grief. Why? Why was this the ending he’d been given? His hands shook harder, and he shoved them in his pocket, covering the way his face wanted to crumple by scowling.

“I promised I wouldn’t,” the older boy nearly-spat.

Not ‘I don’t want to.’ Not  ‘I still love you.’ Just ‘I promised I wouldn’t.’

Because James was good.

And Regulus, branded and condemned, was not.

So he took a deep breath, and sealed both of their fates. “Well. I don’t want you anymore,” he said, setting his jaw and clenching his hands so hard in his pockets his nails broke skin in his palms.

James’s destroyed, ruined expression nearly killed him. But walking away left him completely, utterly demolished, never to be fixed. 

He had to admit–the pain of being pulled under that water years later was nothing compared to seeing James Potter so heartbroken.

(credit to @whoopsiesnodaisies for pointing out that Vodka Cranberry is SO Jegulus)

[glueandmorphemes]

I'm so sorry but if that Vodka Cranberry music video wasn't wolfstar during the war then you can unfollow me because holy shit I'm crying actual real tears.

[glueandmorphemes]

CONAN WHAT THE FUCK

[glueandmorphemes]

late night - jegulus - mentioned platonic prongsfoot - discord server microfic prompt - word count: 431

“It’s three in the morning, Jamie,” Regulus mumbled lazily, not much caring what James did with this information.

“I know,” the Gryffindor whined, not moving at all from his spot in Regulus’s bed next to him. “But baby…I don’t want to let you go.” He was murmuring into Regulus’s neck, pressing kisses to his skin reverently. “I just got you here. I finally know you’re safe. That you’re all mine.” 

He felt the younger boy shiver, and he truly hoped it was in a good way. He did his best to hold back his feelings somewhat, so as to not scare Regulus off, but…he had to admit that the past few weeks had been terrifying. Regulus at Grimmauld, James at home. He’d felt like his entire heart was missing, lying vulnerable in the middle of a battlefield. Now that Regulus was finally here, in his arms, no matter how awful it’d been to get him here….letting him go was almost impossible.

But the younger boy sighed. “I know. I…I don’t want to leave, either…”

James’s heart skipped a beat at that. Regulus rarely spoke about his feelings, but when he did–even in such simple ways–it was like a wonderful jolt to James’s system. A reminder that, somehow, James had won over the unwinnable.

“...but if Sirius sees us…”

That got James’s attention. Groaning, he sat up, a giant pout on his face. “You ruin everything,” he whined, crossing his arms.

Regulus chuckled. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he laughed.

But James just grinned and turned to press one more kiss to Regulus’s jaw. “We’ll tell him soon, yeah? Then maybe I can stay? Just to hold you, of course.” There was no way he would rush things with Regulus.

Icy-gray eyes flickered as Regulus considered, but he smiled softly after a moment, rolling his eyes. “As long as you don’t snore in my face again like that time you fell asleep in the library.

“I did not–!”

“Goodnight, Potter,” Regulus singsonged, already turning away from him.

Huffing, James stood and used his last available bits of strength to walk toward his room, reminding himself that Regulus was safe, that he would see him in the morning. But he was still, embarrassingly, holding back tears as he closed the Slytherin’s door and opened his own.

That is, until he saw who was sitting on his bed, arms crossed, head tilted, eyebrows raised in knowing expectation.

“Late night, Prongsie?” Sirius Black asked him smugly, like he knew exactly whos bed James had just come from.

Oh. Fuck.

[glueandmorphemes]

woods - jegulus - @into-the-jeggyverse - mention of drarry - word count: 367

They’d been there all day.

Hiding in the shade of the woods, avoiding the problems of reality, curled up in each other.

It had been the most peaceful day Regulus had experienced in a very long time.

That is, until James, who Regulus was currently using as a pillow, sat up sharply and patted around in the dirt, clearly looking for something.

“What is it, Potter?” Regulus grumbled, sitting up as well, grimacing at being interrupted from his content stupor.

“You seen my wand?” the older boy asked lazily, still looking around him.

“You left it by the tree over there. Here, use mine,” Regulus offered, handing the weapon to James, ignoring the fact that they could exchange wands easily, the hidden truth of what it meant, that their wands worked just as well for each other.

“Thanks,” James smiled, taking the thin piece of wood and turning to an old, towering oak tree beside them, scooting a bit to be right by the trunk. Mumbling to himself, be began to use a charm to scratch something into the bark.

“What are you doing, James?” Regulus asked, more out of curiosity than anger this time, eyeing the place where James was working.

But the Gryffindor ignored him for a long while, until he huffed a little breath of satisfaction and turned, a grin on his face. “There. Done.”

Regulus eyed the trunk: JFP <3's RAB 4EVR was scrawled there in James’s handwriting, making the Slytherin’s stomach do funny little flip-flops. “Forever?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to buy himself some time to react normally, even as his heart raced.

James just gave him a soft grin. “I really hope so.”

All Regulus could do was lean over and melt into him, staring at the words.

He really, really hoped so, too.

–

Twenty years later, two boys ran through the woods hand-in hand. One dark-haired and bespectacled, one fair-haired with a grimace on his face. 

They stopped short in front of the same oak tree.

“There,” Harry said, grinning, gesturing to the now, peeling cracks in the bark. “Told you.”

“Bloody hell,” Draco replied, smirking. “James Potter was just as much of a romantic as his son is.”

[glueandmorphemes]

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[glueandmorphemes]

I think person hood is cyclical

[glueandmorphemes]

neck - july 8 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 304

“Mister Potter, you were very reckless,” Minerva McGonagall lectured, crossing her arms as she eyed the seventh-year boy laid up in the Hospital Wing bed. “I hope you know that I am not pleased with–”

“Awww, c’mon, Minnie,” James Potter grinned, twisting his bruised face into a beseeching smile as he looked up at her. “We won, didn’t we? No harm done!”

“You dove off of your broom, Potter!” she screeched, quite finished with trying to make the boy see reason. “All to block the opposing Seeker! You need to be more sensible!”

“I’m just fine,” Potter waved his hand in the air, clearly trying to placate her, but he winced. “Or…I will be.”

“Potter, someone’s here to see you,” Poppy Pomfrey said, walking toward the bed, face impassive. 

“Oh, no. Potter won’t be rewarded by throwing a party with his friends in the middle of the Hospital Wing,” Minerva refused, narrowing her eyebrows. “No, he needs a nice, quiet night to reflect.”

But Poppy gave him a grim smile. “It’s not Sirius Black. It’s Regulus Black.”

Minerva broke into a smile while James Potter went pale. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “Wait, give me a second to think of a–” 

But it was too late. The Slytherin’s angry yells could be heard before he even rounded the threshold. 

“POTTER! I’ll have you neck for you being so fucking stupid, you big, ridiculous, obnoxious idiot! You are lucky I love you or I’d bloody murder you in that bed!” Regulus Black appeared around the privacy curtains, looking like he was seconds away from breathing fire. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded of a terrified but blushing Potter.

“Erm. Sorry, Reggie, baby,” Potter said in a tiny voice, face still flushed.

Minerva had to walk away to stifle her laughter.

[glueandmorphemes]

chest - jegulus - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 372 - trans!regulus - based on a request that disappeared from my inbox so I hope this is what you wanted!

“Hey, Reg, Sirius and I are gonna go swimming, do you wanna–”

James cut himself off completely as soon as he realized his mistake. As soon as he realized Regulus was cursing, bright red, heart pounding and stomach sinking, scrambling to cover his unbound chest from the boy who’d walked in quite without knocking.

“Salazar, Potter!” the younger boy spat, turning his back to the Gryffindor and throwing a shirt over himself, wincing to hide the tears that’d sprung to his eyes as his body went icy. “Do you fucking knock?”

Because it wasn’t just that Regulus wasn’t wearing his binder. He’d just finished showering. So, all of the spells and glamours he’d gotten so meticulous about casting over the years–the little charms to hide blemishes, the potions to make himself more angular, the jinxes and gels that needed to be reapplied each day–hadn’t been done yet.

He felt naked, even though he was now fully clothed.

But a hand gently rested on his shoulder, making him turn, even against his better judgement.

“Reg? M’sorry, I–” James began hesitantly, ducking to meet his eyes, clearly trying to see if he was okay. He stuttered to silence, though, as Regulus turned his face toward him, a small intake of breath audible. 

Instantly, Regulus felt even more self-conscious. “What?” he asked dully, trying not to throw up there on the carpet, the dysphoria and self-consciousness overwhelming him.

The Gryffindor reached over to the thin, white stripe of hair by Regulus’s face that he’d been charming to match the rest of his hair since age eleven, his face rather mesmerized.

“I…I’m sorry, I know this is probably the wrong thing for me to say, but…you look gorgeous today,” James said softly, thumb pressing to the strands before he lowered his hand and smiled at Regulus.

And of course, Regulus couldn’t help but smile ruefully at that. “Of course you’d say that,” he chuckled, relief flooding through his body.

James grinned. “What d’you mean?”

“Nothing, Potter,” he mumbled, moving to circle his arms around the back of James’s neck and press his face in the crook of his shoulder. “You’re just…too fucking good, you know?”

The kiss pressed to Regulus’s head made him feel warm again.

[glueandmorphemes]

elder - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 313

“James Fleamont Potter!” Sirius screeched across the Common Room, garnering several annoyed glares. “I am your elder! Go get me my book!”

“Absolutely the fuck not!” James called back, beaming. “Not until you admit that Puddlemere is the superior team!”

“Superior–suck my superior di–” Sirius began to retort, but Lily, who was sitting nearby and quite done with the two boys’ antics, interrupted.

“It’s weird, you always pull the ‘I’m older’ card with James and Peter, but never Remus,” she said with a smirk, elbowing the tall boy, who was reading a book, completely unbothered by his friends��� screaming.

Instantly, Sirius turned maroon. But, just as Lily knew he would, he didn’t back down from the challenge. Fidgeting and obviously nervous, he turned to Remus. “Erm..Moony?” he asked biting his lip. “Since I’m older than you…you should go…get me my Charms book, yeah?”

The taller boy looked up, raising a singular eyebrow at Sirius, who shifted his weight in his chair. “Is that so?” he asked, voice soft.

Lily beamed, watching the interaction with fascination.

Remus leaned forward, getting into Sirius’s space. He allowed his breath to fan over Sirius’s mouth, their lips to brush, just millimeters away. Sirius’s eyes fluttered closed, his expression growing hazy and distracted. “Why don’t you get it, love?” Remus asked softly, just as Sirius leaned forward to press their lips together.

“Er…what?” The shorter boy looked truly taken off-guard, like he’d completely forgotten the original conversation.

All at once, Remus leaned back, completely calm and collected. He was a complete foil to Sirius’s clearly-flustered air. “Your book. Go get it, baby,” Remus said, grinning.

“Oh.” Sirius blinked, then stood. “M’kay.”

It was only after the Gryffindor walked away that Lily turned to Remus and burst into laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe I ever thought he was cool,” she whispered to him, chuckling.

[glueandmorphemes]

kill the imposter syndrome in your head because not only is there someone out there doing it worse than you, they’re also using chat gpt to do it