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ittsybittsybunny · 7 months

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ATLA Live Action Series Review:

The Good

Aesthetically this show felt right. Sure sometimes the outfits didn't quite feel lived in, but I always felt like I was watching a fantasy world with decent effects and interesting design. Also, I really enjoyed the sets!

Bending: Yes some of the fights feel very quick, but the bending looks cool. It is certainly better than 10 benders lifting one big rock. I can honestly say the opening bending fight scene gave me so much hope for this show.

Kyoshi Warriors: I loved seeing them in live action, and I thought Suki's performance was great!

Omashu: I think the mashup of the mechanist made sense since that is an important character overall and I would hate to see him cut. However, both Jet & the secret tunnels felt sloppily thrown in.

Northern Water Tribe: I really loved the way it looked, and appreciated the two episodes we spent here. I think Yue gained more agency in this interpretation, and why shouldn't the moon spirit be a waterbender. Also, episode seven felt the most in tune with the original show's spirit.

Zuko: I think he was one of the most fleshed-out and best parts of the show! Dallas Liu really captured Zuko's spirit, and the scene between him and Aang in episode 6 was wonderful!

Soundtrack: Hearing the original soundtrack bits is always great, and when I first heard the ending music I was so excited.

Is the show perfect, no - but I wouldn't mind a season 2.

The Bad

Pacing: Turning 20 episodes into 8 was bound to lead to some cuts...but oftentimes times things felt too quick or disjointed. I think there were editing problems contributing to this for sure, but sometimes things skipped around too much without a clear purpose as to why. Also, why bring in plots from later seasons when you barely have enough time already?

Writing: This show definitely suffered from exposition dumping, though it did get better as time went on. I think the biggest example of this is actually opening in the past rather than the present. We do not get to learn along with Aang that the world has changed, instead, we get to learn that 100 years have passed....which doesn't hold the same tension or worldbuilding.

Clunky Dialogue: Along with exposition, clunky dialogue is another example of bad writing. I think sometimes I felt like the acting was kind of meh in the beginning, but then over time I began to realize it had far more to do with the lines characters were trying to deliver. The actors themselves are not bad, just cursed with awkward writing and lines that feel out of touch with the setting they're in.

Main Trio: I don't entirely know that I believe Katara, Sokka, and Aang are friends as opposed to 3 people stuck together to save the world. Aang feels a little too somber for a young kid running away from his responsibilities, Sokka is protective, but not exactly the heart of the team, and Katara is sort of just there until the last two episodes. Where is her struggle, her desire to learn so strong she steals from pirates? Also, while Gordon Cormier did a great job, Aang does zero waterbending on his own, is overly serious, and tells Katara not to fight. Where is his desperation to protect his friends? It feels like they all lost emotional depth.

Tension: Bringing Ozai, Azula, and Zhao out in the beginning immediately causes us to lose the realization there is an even bigger bad. Part of why Ozai is so terrifying is he is a primarily silent villain until the third season when we finally see the face of the "big bad evil guy" behind it all. Yes, they add to Zuko's backstory, but again, they are revealing the villains too early. Azula is the antagonist of season 2 and one of my favorite characters, so I hope they do more with her in the future. Finally, Zhao is supposed to be an example of the uncontrollable nature of fire unrestrained, instead, he comes off as vaguely threatening with the supposed true power being Azula.

Characterization: While all characters are bound to lose something in a shorter show, it still felt like certain characters were more mutilated than others. I am sure there are 100 different opinions on who, but I think the biggest victim was Katara.

Katara: Katara manages to go from a complete novice to a bending master in what feels like a matter of days. The journey feels short, and that makes the results feel largely unearned. Katara is one of the strongest personalities in the show, determined, kind, and fiery. In many ways, she is the unpredictability of water - equally dangerous as it is necessary to live. She is the child of a war who lost her mother, forced to grow up too soon, and even raised her older brother. Yes, Katara often gets stereotyped as the mom friend, but overall she feels underutilized in this show. We really don't see enough of her journey until the very end.

Iroh: Iroh was always comedic but most importantly wise. Even when Zuko is trying to give himself advice, he mimics Iroh. Instead, he seems to be used more as comedic relief without the underlying experience. He just doesn't feel right. Also, he kills Zhao instead of Zhao getting himself killed - which is less about Iroh and more about the writing than anything.

Ozai is weirdly a little too nice. Yes, he burned Zuko and pits his kids against each other, but he feels toned down in a show claiming to be more mature than the original cartoon.

Azula is perhaps more realistically worried about losing her status as the golden child, but she is also missing the cruelty she and her father share. I understand worrying about making your character cartoonishly evil, but the Fire Nation is currently a deeply nationalistic empire trying to control the world. Where is the deep-seated belief that they are better than other people, not just trying to bring balance to the world? There is a line between creating complexity and toning down the very real evil inherent in this plan.

Roku: I can only say what the fuck was that. He was barely there, and not the serious master to Aang's youthful exuberance.

The Ugly

Show, Don't Tell: The show's single biggest issue seems to be speeding through story parts by simply stating things. Instead of allowing the audience to discover, trusting that we are smart enough to understand, let's just blatantly say things like Zuko is the only reason the 41st division is alive to their faces. Even though in the context of the story Ozai literally already said that.... it's the division, the division for Zuko, Zuko's division.

Thematic Misunderstandings: I think this show makes several minor changes with major implications, such as airbenders actively fighting the firebenders, when airbenders are known for their pacifist nature and the lie of an Airbender fighting force is actively propaganda. Similarly, Aang very quickly accepts his role as the avatar and doesn't even run away in the beginning. Without this conflict between his desire to be a carefree child and the fact that the world needs him - the show loses a key aspect of Aang's character. Also, the obsession with downplaying the avatar state as something dangerous feels like a disservice to the tradition, connection, and strength of the avatar, which can be permanently destroyed as the trade-off for that kind of power. It's dangerous for the balance of the entire world, not just because it's powerful!

The Agni Kai: Zuko's fight against his father is one of the defining moments of Ozai's cruelty, not just because he is willing to fight his child, but because Zuko tried to do everything right. Zuko shows deference to his father, apologizes, and most importantly refuses to fight! The determination not to upset his father and still be grievously injured and banished is a hugely important theme for the fire nation and Zuko's life as a whole. He tries to do everything he is supposed to and only regains his father's acceptance after he "kills" Aang. Zuko's struggle between moral vs. social right and wrong in contrast to his family is hugely important to his character.

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TLDR: ATLA was a fantastical animated television show that was never afraid to show character development and flaws. When you turn 20 episodes into 8, you are bound to lose something. You hollowed out the middle, leaving the shell of important moments and events without ever wondering if all the times in between formed the true spirit of the show.

Rating: 6.5/10 It's perfectly fine and worth a watch. Not a disaster, but certainly falls flat of the original.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender tv #atla tv #spoilers #natla #i loved it i hated it i mostly sat through it #i would like a season 2 though #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #iroh #uncle iroh #azula #ozai

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coeurify · 1 year

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THE PERFECT PAIR;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k

There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?

You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.

“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.

“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”

“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”

“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.

“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.

Was it a little true? Maybe.

It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.

Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.

A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.

Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.

But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.

So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”

Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”

The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.

“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.

Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.

You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.

“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”

“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.

“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.

“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.

“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.

“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”

You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”

“I don't want to, dude.”

The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.

When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.

“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.

“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”

The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.

“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”

Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”

Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.

You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.

“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”

You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”

Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”

Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”

Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.

The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.

“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”

Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”

“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.

“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.

“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”

Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”

The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”

Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.

Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.

“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.

“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”

Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”

The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”

Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”

“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”

The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”

A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.

els

she axe murder u?

You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.

you

why? worried abt me? 🤨

els

just wanted to see u say i was right

you

k🖕🖕

The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.

“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.

When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.

els

come over and watch smthn?

els

i got ur fave snack from the caf

You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.

“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”

You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.

“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.

“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.

els

???

You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”

Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.

None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.

You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.

Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.

Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.

Especially when you stopped answering her texts.

She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.

Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.

Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.

So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.

In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.

But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’

But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.

Yea, that’s all it was.

So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.

Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.

She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.

series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu

#the perfect pair ❀.#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams #tlou part 2 #the last of us part two #tlou fic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic

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lvnleah · 2 months

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000 | The Beginning.

The very first part to my series, The Williamson’s, this chapter takes places over four years at four different times!

find the series masterlist here!

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January 4th 2019 - 21 years old.

The past few days between you and your best friend, Leah, had been weird. It started on New Year’s Eve when you and her were both drunk.

All night long you’d been exchanging glances across the room and before you knew it you were kissing in the middle of the dance floor. The next morning you woke up in her bed, it wasn’t unusual for that to happen but this time it was different.

You’d never taken notice of your feelings for Leah, you’d known her since you were sixteen so there was absolutely no way on this planet that you were in love with your best friend.

Or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Leah was openly gay with the people around her and always had been. When you were eighteen you confided in her about your sexuality, you were confused and she was there for you. It wasn’t until a year ago that you finally came out as bisexual and Leah was one of the first people you told.

New Year’s Eve was a blur in your mind. You remember getting drunk, dancing with Leah and then kissing her as the clock struck midnight.

You and Leah had crossed a line, and now you were both tiptoeing around it. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog, making every interaction awkward.

You were slouched on your sofa, scrolling through social media when the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat as you walked over to the door and opened it. Leah stood there, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She was bundled up in a coat and a beanie, her eyes wide and nervous.

"Hey," she said, her voice barely audible. "Can I come in?"

You stepped aside, allowing her to enter. She kicked off her boots and hung up her coat, glancing around the room as she avoided eye contact. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.

Finally, she blurted out, "Look, about New Year's Eve... I don't want things to be weird between us."

You chuckled, relieved that she had addressed the elephant in the room. "Yeah, it's been a bit...awkward."

Leah fidgeted with the hem of her jumper. "I like you, okay? And not just as a friend. I've liked you for a while now, but I didn't know how to say it."

Your heart raced. Leah, your best friend, was confessing her feelings. You hadn't expected this. You thought it was just you.

"Leah," you began, "I—"

She interrupted you. "Wait, let me finish." She took a deep breath. "I know you've never thought of me that way. But maybe...maybe we could give it a shot? A date, just to see?"

You stared at her, your mind racing. Could you risk your friendship for something more? But then you remembered the way her lips had felt against yours on New Year's Eve.

Maybe it was worth exploring.

"Okay," you said, surprising yourself. "Let's go on that date."

Leah's face lit up, and she stepped closer, pulling you into a hug. "Really?"

"Yeah," you replied, smiling. "But no more awkwardness, okay? We'll figure this out together."

The following days were spent planning a date for that weekend. You and Leah were inseparable once again, this time you shared kisses and sweet moments together.

There wasn’t a lot you and Leah didn’t know about each other or had done together so you decided to go to a fancy restaurant together, something Leah deemed as a ‘fancy’ date.

Leah picked up that Friday evening, you were wearing an elegant navy blue shirt that you’d paired with a black skirt. Leah was wearing a white shirt and a pair of beige trousers, an outfit that you couldn’t tear your eyes from.

The fancy restaurant was everything you'd imagined. A dimly lit space with crystal chandeliers, and soft piano music playing in the background. Leah sat across from you, focused as she studied the menu. You both ordered dishes you couldn't pronounce, laughing at your attempts.

The conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about different things. One thing that popped up was if you wanted kids, you’d talked about it before but not about having them together. You both decided you wanted either two or three kids, a large age gap between the first two like Leah had with her brother. Leah's hand brushed yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

After dessert, you left the restaurant and decided to take a walk. The restaurant was conveniently located near an old arcade, its neon sign glowed from across the street.

Leah grinned, tugging you along. "An arcade, c’mon,"

Inside, the air smelled of popcorn. You played basketball, competing fiercely for the highest score. Leah's laughter echoed through the room as she aimed for the bullseye on the darts. She won, of course, and claimed her prize which was a tiny dinosaur teddy that she insisted was a T. rex.

As you wandered from game to game, you forgot about everything else. The awkwardness, the uncertainty. It was just you and Leah, lost in a world you’d created together with love and laughter.

Finally, you stood in front of the photo booth. Leah hesitated, then pulled you inside. The curtain closed, and the camera flashed. You both squeezed into the tiny seat, your knees touching. Leah's cheeks were flushed, and you wondered if she felt the same way you did.

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered, her breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, heart pounding and then her mouth was on yours. The photo booth captured the moment of the two of you, tangled together, hearts racing.

When the curtain opened, you stepped out, hand in hand and took your strip of photos. The neon lights outside seemed brighter, the world more vivid.

Leah leaned against you, her head on your shoulder. "Best first date ever," she murmured.

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February 14th 2019 - 21 years old.

It’d been just over a month since your first date with Leah and things were perfect between the pair of you despite still being unofficial.

You’d been on so many dates that you’d lost count, it seemed like you were doing something different every day together. Those dates ranged from little things such as movie nights on your sofa and cooking together to going to fancy restaurants on the weekend.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and the air was thick with romance. You’d been expecting a quiet evening at home with Leah, maybe binge-watching your favourite TV show. But Leah had other plans.

She showed up at your door, holding a bouquet of red roses. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

You blinked, surprised by the roses. “Leah, these are gorgeous! Thank you.” You smiled, taking the roses from Leah before pulling her into a hug and kissing her lips.

She ran her hand down your hip, “Only the best for the prettiest girl.”

You spent that evening cooking pasta together before eating it on the sofa while watching Notting Hill, your favourite movie that you begged Leah to watch with you.

A few hours later, she took you to the rooftop of your apartment building, where fairy lights decorated the railing.

Leah stood there, her eyes looking into yours as she held you close. Her hands rested once again on your hips. "I've been thinking," she began, her voice soft. "About us."

Your heart raced. You'd been thinking about this moment for weeks. The stolen kisses and the late-night conversations replayed in your mind. Now, everything felt real.

"I don't want to be just friends or whatever we are anymore," Leah said, her fingers brushing against your hips. "I want more."

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "More?"

She nodded. "I want to be with you, officially. No more tiptoeing around. What do you say? Will you be my girlfriend, pretty girl?”

"Yeah," you smiled stupidly before kissing Leah’s lips, "Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend."

Her lips brushing against yours once again. Your heartbeats synced, and you knew that this was the beginning of something.

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February 14th 2021 - 23 years old.

Anxiety had been bubbling up inside of you all day. It was your two year anniversary with Leah and you'd never felt anxious like this before.

Somehow you’d convinced yourself that Leah was proposing after your best friend, Beth, had slipped up a few weeks ago. You were round at her house, trying to make plans, when the blonde slipped up.

——

two weeks ago…

“What about next weekend?” Beth asked, scrolling through her calendar, “Wait no, Leah’s taking you to that place.”

You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow as Beth’s face turned red, “What place?”

“Shit,” Beth mumbled, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”

“What place, Beth?” You questioned, setting your phone down beside you. Beth ignored your question and continued scrolling on her phone, “Bethany Mead you better tell me!”

Beth groaned, “It’s a surprise Leah told me about! You weren’t supposed to know, I’m not saying anymore you can ask her when she comes back from getting food with Viv.”

The next fifteen minutes were torture for both you and Beth. You interrogated her, trying to get answers while Beth tried her hardest to not spill anything.

Beth had been your best friend since you were thirteen and she was fifteen so it was hard for her not to spill any secrets to you. It wasn’t long before Viv and Leah were arriving back with the takeaway you and Beth had sent them out for.

“You alright, pretty girl?” Leah asked as you and Beth walked into the kitchen.

“Don’t be mad but…” You trailed off, looking at Beth. “Beth slipped up about the weekend away you’re taking me on when we were trying to plan out girls’ evening..” you started to anxiously play with your rings on your fingers.

“Oh for god sake, Beth!” Leah groaned, “it was a surprise!”

Viv laughed, grabbing four plates from the cupboard, “told you that you shouldn’t have told Beth.”

“I’m sorry!” Beth sighed, “it was an accident, it just slipped out. I was thinking about other things and I accidentally told her!”

“It’s fine,” Leah sighs, “What else did you tell her?”

——

In that moment, you never questioned what Leah meant by “what else did you tell her” but when you got home later that evening you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You laid awake that night and that’s when the thought of Leah proposing sprung to mind.

You questioned Leah all week on where you were going, something that she wouldn’t reveal. However, you did get her to tell you what to pack.

The thought of Leah proposing never left your mind all week, that’s what led to you being so anxious about today.

When you woke up this morning, your anxiety was still present. You weren’t feeling a scared-anxious about Leah proposing, you were a happy-anxious, something that you couldn’t figure out.

You and Leah had exchanged gifts this morning, you’d bought Leah a golden watch that was engraved on the bottom with sweet words you’d gotten customised. Leah had bought you a love heart necklace, something dainty but it meant a lot to you.

You’d then spent the day on the beach, sunbathing and playing around in the water like teenagers before heading back to the hotel for a fancy dinner.

Leah had picked your outfit and you’d picked hers. She’d chosen a cream floral mini dress that fell halfway down your thighs and you’d chosen a striped shirt and short set with a white top underneath.

Once dinner was over, Leah had convinced you to take a walk on the beach. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the sandy beach. Leah held your hand as you both strolled along the water's edge, the gentle waves lapping at your feet.

“Someday I wanna marry you, you know.” Leah smiled, swinging your hands back and forth.

You laughed nervously, “Yeah, yeah, someday in about six years!”

“No I’m serious,” Leah smiled, she dragged you down the beach a bit more and your mouth dropped open in shock when you saw what was in front of you.

A white blanket was spread out on the sand, and a bunch of red roses were placed on the blanket. A constellation of glass holders held flickering candles, their flames casting shadows on the beach. Single red roses were placed between the candles. The letters ‘marry me’ were set up behind the blanket.

Leah stopped, turning to face you. Her expression was a mix of nervousness and excitement. "You know," she began, "when we first started dating, I never imagined you’d complete me in every way. But here we are, two years later."

Leah dropped to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from her pocket. The world seemed to hold its breath.

"I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone." Leah laughed, tears welling in her eyes.

You laughed, wiping your own tears, “Did you just quote lord of fucking the rings? You’re such a nerd!”

"I’m your nerd though,” Leah smiled, “Will you marry me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Tears welled up in your eyes. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot!”

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August 16th 2022 - 25 years old.

“Who knew that wedding planning was so fucking stressful!” You mumbled as you and Leah cuddled on the sofa in your shared apartment.

You and Leah were currently trying to plan your wedding but you didn’t realise how much legal stuff there was and the difficulties it wouldn’t give you.

You’d been engaged for just over a year now and you were both eager to get married. Although it wasn’t a massive thing for you both, you just wanted things to be official and for you to be Mrs Williamson.

Leah sat up, resting her hand on your thigh, “Why don’t we just go an elope? Who says we need a big white wedding?”

You laughed thinking Leah was joking, “Yeah as if, we’re not going to elope. What about your family?”

Leah shrugged, “We’d need witnesses so what if we took my family? Then we could have a big white wedding when we’re ready for it for all of our other family and friends.”

You gasped, throwing your phone down beside you, “Wait your not fucking with me? You’re actually serious?!”

The blonde nodded as a laugh escaped her lips, “Yes I’m being serious, pretty girl. It’d take all the stress out of it.”

“You’d seriously want that?” You asked, “I know how much these things matter to you. I’d love to elope.”

Leah nodded and leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips, “I would love to elope with you. We can have a big white wedding later on.”

You nodded eagerly, “Let’s do it then!”

The decision was made. You and Leah would elope, surrounded by her family as witnesses. It felt like a secret moment just for the two of you.

The next few days were spent arranging a time where all of Leah’s closest family could be there as well as getting your dress and Leah’s suit. You arranged to get married at the courthouse and have Leah’s parents, brother, grandma and cousins there.

The legalities were sorted out, and you found yourselves standing in a quaint little courthouse, nerves fluttering like butterflies in your stomachs.

Leah wore a simple beige suit, her blonde hair pulled back. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from her. You had picked out a plain white dress that fell halfway down your things. Your hair was in a half up half down type of hairstyle with a bowed vail in it.

You and Leah walked down the aisle together, Leah’s family spread down both sides of the aisle. The officiant did all of the boring wedding stuff before you and Leah were finally able to say your vows. You went first.

You took a deep breath before looking at Leah, feeling a sense of calmness wash over me as she squeezed your hands. "Leah, my best friend, my first love, I can't believe we're actually standing here. After everything this took, I can't believe at the end of the day I'll be able to call you my wife. Growing up, I never thought i'd be lucky enough to meet, let alone fall in love, with someone like you. I never thought someone would be able to love me the way you do unconditionally. I wish I could put into words how truly amazing you are but there aren't enough words.”

You take your hand out of Leah’s and quickly wipe your tears as she takes her chance to wipe her own fallen tears, “I won't forget the day I met you on that England camp, I was the shy girl and hadn't spoken a word to anyone and you came over with Keira and both made me feel welcome. Ever since then, you've been my absolute rock. We've gone from friends, to lovers, to fiancés and now we finally get to be wives. You are so loving and patient and even in the times I don't feel lovable, you still love me. I promise to love you forever and through everything. I can't wait to do life with you. I love you, Le.”

Leah’s teary eyes widened as you finished, she squeezed your hands again. She laughed a little, “Oh my god I’m getting emotional, right my turn!”

You laughed out loud, as you brought a hand up to wipe the tears under your eyes. “When aren’t you emotional!”

Leah squeezed your hands once again before talking, . "I've been thinking about this day for the last three years, planning everything I wanted to say to you, to promise you. I'm convinced that I know you better than I know myself, and I love that little fact about me. At this point, my heart is so full of you, I feel like I can hardly call it my own. Every time I've looked at you since the day that I met you i've found something new to love and obsess over.

"I promise to protect you from everything bad in the world and shower you with all of the good. I promise to show you the best parts of yourself while allowing you to be your own person. I promise to be the best wife and future mother that I can be for you and our future kids. I promise to cherish and love you endlessly."

Leah smiles through tears before continuing. "Thank you for standing by me through everything and following me around half the country and world with my football. I truly wouldn’t be able to do it without you, when I’m playing I know that afterwards I get to see your face and that’s something that I will always love. When you need help, I will be there for you. When you need care, I will care for you. When you want to try something new, I will encourage you. And when you do the same for me, I will love you. I will love you forever, pretty girl.”

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to avoid a full-fledged sob from escaping your mouth from her words. Jacob handed the rings to Leah, he was the trusted ring bearer although Leah joked about him losing them.

Before you knew it, you and Leah were pronounced wife and wife and were having your first kiss before walking out of the courthouse. You were given a few minutes before Leah’s family joined you.

Leah pulled you in for a kiss, her hand resting at the small of your back, “I love you so much. I can’t wait to do life with you, pretty girl.”

“I love you more,” you mumbled against her lips, “I love you so much more.”

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Liked by Leah Williamson and 112,000 others

y/n.williamson officially Mrs Williamson 💐💍

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leahwilliamsonn oh my that’s my wifey 😍

view 26 replies liked by 178 others

bethmead_ so happy for you both! absolutely stunning!

view 15 replies liked by 120 others

lionesses congrats! 🙌🏻

view 2 replies liked by 78 others

liawaelti congrats, so much love for you both 💗

view 4 replies liked by 98 others

keirawalsh erm where’s my invite? happy for you both 🫶🏻

view 26 replies liked by 90 others

kyracooneyx parents, took you long enough 🙄

view 16 replies liked by 125 others

mbaker1971 would say welcome to the family but you’ve been apart of it for many years!

view 24 replies liked by 160 others

viviannemiedema 💍🫶🏻💗

view 14 replies liked by 145 others

comments limited…

#awfc #leah williamson x reader #the williamson’s #lvnleah

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vagabond-umlaut · 6 months

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meet you where the sky meets the earth

to love is to listen to your heart, not your brain. to dream whilst in love, is to make your brain listen to your heart.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; former teacher x former student [gojo is six yrs older than reader]; bittersweet fluff; you're so in love w satoru, it shd hurt- but it doesn't because you've grown numb to the ache; one-sided feelings [are they really?]; few mentions of food; gojo calls you 'cookie'; this is way too tender even for me, istg; 1.5k wc

▸ belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna! 😊

▸ the header is from pinterest, the dividers are by @benkeibear, the characters used here aren't mine. pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this. hope y'all enjoy reading this ❤️❤️

the first time you think of marrying gojo, you're only twenty years old.

hardly the age to be dreaming of wedding bells at, right?

yeah, right. that's very, very right— still, your heart is your heart, just how your brain is your brain, the former easily swaying the latter by a few skipped beats— and you find your cheeks growing warm, laughs stumbling past your lips as you place the box of cornflakes into your shopping cart.

gojo sputters from beside you, eyes comically wide behind his shades as they dart from you to the elderly woman before.

you take a second to compose yourself before answering the ask that created this mess in the first place, a polite smile lining your face, "oh, no– not at all, ma'am! we're not married. i'm just an old friend helping him with the groceries, haha."

"oh," that's the only thing the woman says in reaction, kind smile now a tiny frown before it reappears. and she apologises, "i'm sorry, dears. just thought you two to be newlyweds from how giddy and loving you seemed to each other... time i went for an eye check-up, yes?"

"hey, please don't be sorry..." you start to say, but before you can get any further, the woman has already walked away with her shoppping basket.

you fall silent.

the same way the man next to you too has grown quiet, an awkward silence taking up the foot between you both. until you break it with a strained chuckle.

"we were acting giddy and loving to each other, eh?"

"were we?" comes the contemplative question to your comment. you look up to find gojo looking at you, the blue of his eyes weirdly bright in the dim lights of the supermarket as he repeats, "were we, cookie?"

yes. no. you don't really know—

yes, 'cause you know you love him.

not since forever, no, but close enough to it: your once-fascination for the supposed mortal deity of the jujutsu world, the mitochondrion on which the cellular structure of the society banks to survive; that grew into something made of wonder, respect and fondness, as you slowly came to know not only the icon but also the man behind it; that grew into something so profound, nestling deep within your existence– so much so that you feel the earth shifting on its axis everytime he calls you or grins at you or just looks in your direction—

no, 'cause you know you aren't loved back.

not the way you wish to be... not that you blame gojo for that, though!

you know he is way too busy to be thinking of such topics– what with being the strongest sorcerer ever, the head of the one-man gojo clan, the teacher to the first-years at tokyo high, the legal guardian– but in fact, the father figure to the two kids, 'gumi and 'miki– or maybe, just maybe, he is busy, alright, but not too busy— gojo simply doesn't see you that way; he sees you to be nothing but his former student— one he knows he can rely on to help with his children, or the groceries, or a variety of other menial daily tasks he can just hire help for—

you don't know.

yeah... you really, really don't know– and by now, you think you don't even want to know anymore. it's easy, it's safe, it's nice to remain not knowing. the word 'yes' comes with too many dreams– the word 'no' serves the perfect haven to nightmares.

the three words "i don't know" bear no such burden on their back– an untroubled answer you decide to offer, decide to escape using for the time being— until a slight knock on the head interrupts you, followed by an entertained set of chortles.

you peer up to find gojo beaming down at you, his eyes crinkled and cheeks dimpled. something twists in the middle of your chest, but it isn't painful; it's grounding. pleasant, even.

"it's too easy to get you worried, y'know? you're unbelievably easy to manipulate, heh."

"oh, am i now?" you retort, eyes narrowing into a cross glare– only to be betrayed by the fond smile grazing your lips not even a beat later. the man hums, grin simmering down to a knowing smile.

"mmhm," he says with that musical sway to his tone that never fails to make your fingers tingle, "you should have seen your face when i asked you the question– so pale and stiff– almost as if i was asking you to leave then and there, hearing that granny's comments—"

"you would have asked me to, if they were true– wouldn't you?"

gojo's smile vanishes in the blink of an eye. and you think the hand he has stretched out to the shelves of biscuits might fall too– but it does not, and you see him take a packet of your favourite bourbon biscuits followed by a packet of the digestives you've been forcing him to eat, and place them into the cart.

he checks the shopping list in your hand before he looks back at you.

before he smiles back at you: so soft, so solemn, so un-satoru— you instantly regret interrupting him with such a question.

but you do know how it is, don't you? what with a thudding heart and a thinking brain...

the handle of the cart digs deep indents into your palm as you press the weight of your worries into the cool metal and lean towards your companion on this grocery run, the same way a moth flies towards a flame, towards its doom–

"don't you ever dream of falling in love, gojo-san?" you let your voice drop to a murmur, audible only to you and the object of your desires, the subject of your worries, "do you not dream of a happily ever after with your 'one'– do you, gojo-san?"

"no," the response to your words comes in the very same instant. the man's shades slip a touch down the bridge of his nose as he pins his sharp gaze on you– though it can do nothing to hide the mild tremor in his grin from you when he says, "and i don't plan on dreaming ever. dreaming is only for fools with too much time to spare– do i look like a fool with too much time to spare, cookie?"

no. not at all. you don't. you look the farthest from it, in fact— is what you know you should say, and just drop the matter. for now. forever—

but you don't... just don't.

retorting instead, still a murmur but with the faint lick of a fire now, "and what do you suggest should be done to those fools, gojo-san? punished severely for their grievous crime of dreaming, hm?"

"oh, don't be too harsh," he tuts with a breezy chuckle, "what people do is honestly their business; one i've got no interest in interfering in— but..." his grin twists into something wry, a change you find tough to tear your gaze away from, "i don't think i would give such folks the time of my day– it's simply not worth it to talk with those whose feet are not on the solid ground, floating around meaninglessly in air–"

"why are you talking with me then?"

interrupted, gojo blinks. once, and twice, then thrice.

you watch your face crumple in the dark tint of his shades, withering and cracking in the dull light and stale air of this stupid supermarket; but definitely not as stupid as you:

messing things up when they're perfectly fine and alright, only 'cause you do not, rather cannot, keep your mouth shut, no matter what– all your inhibitions let gone of as your heart gains control over your brain and your stupid damned mouth—

you feel a tiny knock on your forehead, the second time this evening, followed by strands of hair being gently brushed away; too careful for your breath to not get stuck in your chest. you peer up at the man in front, teeth lightly gnawing the inside of your lower lip.

gojo's features shift into something between fond and worried– you just hope you aren't misreading him right now– the man tucks those strands of hair behind the shell of your ear.

his fingers still right above your jaw, touching yet not really touching, features finally, finally, settling into a smile– "maybe because i enjoy talking with you, cookie, no matter how foolish you are."

some people say, marriage is a holy act, a sacred institution, in and of itself— connecting hearts, binding souls– cementing the promises of staying together forever... whilst few see marriage to be meaningless— paltry affair of papers and signatures and people, none bearing any significance, 'cause nothing can, not when it comes to the matters of the hearts, neither in proving nor in disproving them–

no matter what people think, you think you will be okay, irrespective of whether you marry gojo or not, irrespective of whether gojo loves you or not– provided– and this is a weird, still important 'provided'—

you and he end up shopping together in the supermarket, feeling and seeming so happy and comfortable with each other— others mistake you for a pair of newlyweds, blissfully deep in love.

tysm to my dearest andy [@andysdrafts], mimi [@avatarofstars] & dilay [@roseqzpd] for constantly motivating me while i was writing this. ilysm my darlings 😘😘😘

masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #kit posts 📝

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writingsfromhome · 11 months

Text

Impossibly Real

A/N: cute little story about being in a rough dating world and having a nice neighbour friend.

Part 2

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I memorize the face on my phone whilst standing in the middle of my building lobby. I study it as if I hadn’t been staring at his pictures since we both swiped right a couple weeks ago.

“Hot date?” A voice calls out. I look up to the source—one of my neighbours with takeaway in one hand and a case of beer in the other. The smell of his dinner makes my stomach rumble—I’d skipped dinner myself for this 8pm date.

“A very hot date,” I respond. Harry was one of the first people I’d interacted with when I moved to this complex a year and a half ago. He’d helped me move my boxed mattress in and I thanked him with a lukewarm beer. Ever since, we’d pick up on conversation every time we saw each other.

Most of those times were when we’d both be rushing out to work in the morning. Sometimes he’d walk to the tube with me, both of us going in opposite directions. Other times his girlfriend would pick him up.

“Let’s see,” he switches his beer to the other hand and holds his hand out.

I pretend to open the app and look for my date’s profile as if it hadn’t been open for the last three hours. He makes a sound of approval when I pass it over.

“Right?” I grin as he scans the profile.

I wasn’t always lucky in love. When Harry first met me I was fresh out of a 3 year relationship, and the only things to follow were bad dates and lonely nights.

“Likes pizza?” Harry says like he’d just caught sight of the guy’s private pictures.

“Yeah? So what?” I feel my defences go up. “Who doesn’t?”

“Yeah but that’s so…basic.” He hands the phone back. “That’s like saying ‘Drinks tea’ or ‘breathes air’.”

“No it’s not!” I wanted this to be a good one so badly, I wouldn’t hear any of Harry’s slander. “It’s relatable, and shows he’s down to earth.”

Harry groans. “Remind me what you do for work?”

I squint at him, unsure where he was going with his. “Analyst.”

“Ah,” he switches his beer back to his other hand and it snaps me out of the moment. I always lost track of time talking to Harry and this couldn’t be one of those times. I had somewhere to be!

“Ah what?” I glance at the door.

“As an analyst you’re used to reading into things-“

“Piss off!” I shut him down. “I’m leaving now.”

“I’m joking!” Harry calls out. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.”

I don’t respond to him as I walk away but he calls out my name.

“You look great, it’ll be a good date.”

“Fingers crossed,” I echo. “Enjoy your night.”

I find a taxi quickly and sit on my hands the whole way there so I don’t pick at my nails. There was no such thing as out of my league, I remind myself. He was just going to be a guy. A good looking guy.

***

“I’m getting a bit tipsy,” Dave admits. It was half past 9 and we’d had 5 drinks total, one of those being a nervous shot when he hadn’t showed up in the first ten minutes.

“We should get something to eat!” I suggest.

He grimaces. “It’s a bit overpriced in here.”

Oh. He was cheap.

That was rude. I snap out of my darkening thoughts. I couldn’t help it: not only was Dave late, he looked 5 years older than his pictures, which wasn’t a bad thing, but he was also 5 inches shorter than his profile stated.

It was awkward when he came in and I got up to hug him. I’d worn my 3 inch heels expecting to still come to his chest but we’d met at eye level instead. I didn’t want to make it awkward so I had sat down quickly. I regretted wearing these heels. They were chaffing against my feet even whilst sitting.

And the whole evening had been stiff conversation, like rubbing sandpaper against itself. It had ended in a dull evening. He was cute. That was all he had going for him.

“There’s a really good pizza place around here!” I say casually, like I hadn’t Googled the vicinity for an hour after we’d made plans. “I heard it was rated top 10 in the city.

His grimace comes back, it made him more unattractive the more he did it.

“I can go for some chips. There’s probably one down the road, you alright for a walk?”

“Great!” Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery could spice the night up.

He pays the bill—maybe he wasn’t so cheap, I think. That is until we get to the chips shop and he hangs back for me to order for us. And pay.

I can already imagine retelling this date to my girl friends. They were all engaged or married so my dating stories were always amusing content for our hangouts.

Crossing from 20 to 30 made the stories more tragic than amusing, but I lived to laugh and that’s what I usually did after getting over bad dates like this one.

“It’s a nice night,” Dave says when we get our chips. He douses his in ketchup like a toddler would. Gah!

“It is…”

“Let’s take these outside.”

I’d rather not, with my heels digging into the backs of my feet and the blisters chafing against the fake leather. But I agree.

“So what’s with the pink?” He asks randomly.

“What?” I say over a mouthful of chip. I didn’t care how disgusting I was at this point. He’d done the bill-for-a-bill thing without asking and I’d lost any hope I had for the evening. I may as well be gross.

“The pink, you’ve got it at the bottoms of your hair and your earrings, your lips and your skirt and your heels-“

“I like pink.”

“That’s obvious,” he says dryly. “Is there a story behind it or something? Usually only schoolgirls wear their favourite colour that much.”

And usually only younger boys have fries with they ketchup rather ketchup with their fries, I want to say. But I keep my mouth shut.

“I think it’s overrated that getting older means getting all serious and boring. Pink’s my favourite colour and the world can know it. Be brighter for knowing it too.”

I keep my tone light yet Dave seems to takes my personal philosophy as a direct attack.

“But it’s a bit juvenile isn’t it? You don’t have to be boring just because you’re an adult but no one’s going to take you much seriously all dressed in pink. It’s a bit childish.”

“Not childish enough for you to want to go on a date with me,” I say. My pink hair was on display in my profile as well as many pink outfits throughout my linked Instagram. I know he’d seen it.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, not like that.” He backtracks. His face turns my favourite colour, even in the dark.

“When grown men are obsessed with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or whatever, nobody bats an eye. They show up with fictional characters on their shirt and tattooed on their arms and it’s all dandy. But you think the world’s going to take me less seriously because I wear a lot of pink?”

“Okay I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” Dave backs down like I knew he would. I’d known too many boys like him, who charged up when they thought they had an ounce of intellect over me. Reciprocate with even an ounce of assertive energy and they back down like a well-trained dog.

This night was tragic. My hopes up for nothing. And my feet were blistered for no damn reason.

“I think we’ve understood each other just fine.” I wipe my hands on a napkin and toss the rest of my chips away, ignoring the look Dave gives me. “It was a night, I’m going to head home now.”

“Look I-“

“Goodnight.” I walk away. I had no idea what direction but as long as I can end the night with the hope-zapper Dave.

***

On the lift up to my flat I look at myself in the mirror. Dead eyes, flushed and puffy face from the alcohol, and my hair was voluminous from the windy night air. I couldn’t wait to get to my flat and take my stupid heels off. They were so painful they’d now actually gone numb.

My phone rings as I get to my door. Dave. The nerve of that guy!

I put it on silent and fish out my keys but my phone buzzes a second time and I drop them.

“Fuck!” I say just as the door behind me opens.

“Woah!” Harry steps back into his flat after nearly tripping over my crouched figure.

“Ugh sorry,” I stand back up, keys looped around my finger.

“You’re back early.” Harry slowly eyes me from top to bottom. It makes my stomach feel like a washing machine on high. “Nice night with pizza guy?”

“Pizza guy was just like the others.”

I lean against my door and ignore my phone that’s now gone off for the third time in my purse.

“Fair enough. He did say he likes pizza.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I whine. “I just wasted £30 on shite company.”

“Can I offer you a beer or have you had too many?”

I look down at my watch. It was half past 10, and I had work tomorrow but life was short and I was miserable so I follow Harry in.

“I’ll just toss this later.”

It’s only then I realize Harry had a trash bag in his hands and he was in his boxers and a robe. He rests the bag near his door and motions to the fridge as he walks down his hall. “Grab me one too?”

I’d been in Harry’s flat a few time, once when I baked too many sugar cookies for Christmas and he invited me in to eat with him. Another time when he was having a birthday party. I had thought it was cute his friends had done that for him old school. The last time was when my wifi stopped working one weekend and I had to ask him to use his. That was a nice day, both of us were going through busy season and had worked side by side on our laptops until Harry announced we were losers and should stop working to get dinner and watch a movie. That was one of my favourite days living in this complex so far.

I’m still standing in his kitchen when he comes out with sweatpants.

“Why are you still standing there?”

I look down at my shoes and so does he.

“Don’t you want to take those off?” Harry lifts one brow, confused.

“I’m scared.” I say. I didn’t know what I’d find. I felt like I was standing in a pool of blood.

“Why?” Harry was lucky he didn’t know the fear of taking off awful shoes after a long day of breaking them in. Men were lucky that way.

I shift my heel away from the back of the shoe and pain shoots up. It sounds sticky. I whimper. “Can you get me a chair?”

“What did you wear?” Harry’s staring at them with a mixture of fear and confusion. He carries one of his dining chairs to me. “Those are like, torture heels.”

“Tonight was torture.” I sit down and cross my foot over my knee. I take a deep breath. Harry hovers above me not able to look away. “Here goes nothing.”

I pry the shoe away and nearly cry.

“Oh my god!” Harry shouts. “Yo-you’re bleeding! What the f-“

“Oh my god,” I was dripping onto his floor. “Can I get-“

“Tissue!” Harry’s already throwing me his roll but I knock it away.

“I need help. Getting. To the bathroom.”

“Right right.” Harry kicks my shoe away and leans down so I can wrap my arm around his shoulder. I feel like an injured football player but so much more pathetic as I limp to his bathroom.

He sets me down on his toilet seat and blasts the tub with water.

“Sorry,” I limp to the edge of his bathtub and swing myself so that my feet dangle in. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your night.”

“I’m glad you did,” Harry’s voice still carries a hint of shock. “What is wrong with you? That’s diabolical you wearing shoes like that! What’s wrong with trainers? Or sandals? Don’t girls like strap sandals?”

“It just comes with being a woman okay?” I couldn’t answer all his questions. “I still need to take off the other one.”

I was more scared for my right foot than my left.

“Just…deal with that.”

Harry’s tub is filling with water and it stings everywhere it touches my foot. But especially my heel and all of my toes. I switch the knob to cold.

“Okay,” I take a deep breath. “The other fucking shoe.”

I can feel Harry peering over my shoulder. This one feels glued on and I squeal as I comes off. My foot looked like a bruised and crusted mess.

“Holy sh-“ Harry whispers. I dunk it fast in the running water and nearly topple backwards but Harry catches me with his knee and then stays there so I have somewhere to lean. It was nice.

“Bloody hell,” I swear as my feet sting and paint the water pink. “Genuinely so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be.” Harry shakes his head. “But please toss those shoes in the bin and never wear something like that again.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. It’s very possible.”

“I love heels! I just need to break these in.”

“They’re breaking you love.”

I feel him stiffen behind me which makes me suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t really read into his words, love was just a term of affection used around my friends. But apparently it wasn’t something Harry used lightly.

“They are. These ones are going in the bin, DNA and all.” I try to continue casually. This was so weird. Weirder than it needed to be given Harry and I were mates at most; I’d met his girlfriend, I didn’t think of him anything more than a neighbourhood friend. We certainly hadn’t hung out outside our flats before.

“Maybe burn them to be sure,” Harry finally responds. His voice is a bit rougher than before. “Don’t want to get accidentally framed with the free DNA.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be too obvious a murderer to commit anything stealthily. They’d identify the pink-haired giant walking away.”

“You’re not a giant. You’re not even 6 feet.”

“I’m nearly 5’9 which is tall enough for a woman.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry brushes my hair behind my shoulder and a shiver runs up my spine. Maybe I should turn the icy water off. “Plus I like the pink. Makes you more interesting to look at.”

“So I’m not interesting to look at regularly?” I tease. I look up at him and the back of my head hits his thigh.

I see his adam’s apple bob and I suddenly feel vulnerable sitting here like this. I lean forward so my feet are steadied against the tub which is agonizing for my bloody feet but at least I wasn’t leaning against him.

“I said more interesting.”

The room grows quiet and I try not to read into it. Harry thought I was interesting to look at. Okay.

I turn the tap off and the silence in the room becomes unbearable.

“Have you got any plasters?” I turn inch by inch so I don’t slip on the lip of the tub or need more help from Harry. The energy in here was weird and him touching me was going to make it weirder.

“Yeah,” he’s eager to leave only to come back laughing. “They’re actually here. I…”

He opens a drawer and pulls a box out along with a tiny vial.

I take it from him, some sort of ointment oil. Why not.

“Motherf-“ I bite my lip as the ointment stings my cuts. “Why wouldn’t you warn me!”

Harry laughs again and it eases the tension a little. “I thought you knew it would burn!”

“I don’t treat cuts often jeez!”

“Sorry! That friend—you met him at my party, black curly hair, the one who does custom stuff?”

“Oh yeah I remember.”

“I helped him out one summer. I had to hand cut all these signs using one of those exacto blades? Cut my hands up so many times I had to buy something for them after one of them got infected.”

I wrinkle my nose at the idea of an infected cut and douse my other foot in the oil, swearing as I take the pain.

“I have a roll and cotton if you want to bandage your foot?” Harry suggests. “I don’t know if regular plasters cut it.”

“That’s so dramatic,” I usually stuck a couple plasters on and got on with it. But this was also the worst I’d ever had with breaking shoes in.

“Let me-“

“No!” I push Harry’s shoulder away as he leans down with the roll of bandage he’d procured. “Harry do not touch my foot!”

“I’ve dressed grosser,” he holds my heel gently and I try to yank it away again without falling into the tub but it’s impossible. I settle for pushing him away.

“Harry please! I’ve intruded enough stop touching my disgusting foot!”

“I’ve seen you wash it. It’s not disgusting, just bloody. Now stop squirming about!”

“Why are you…” I trail away because he wasn’t listening. He dabs my foot with a cotton pad and then begins the process of bandaging my heel and then my toe. I try not to squirm at how embarrassing this was.

Harry’s gentle and attentive as he moves on to the other foot which should make me feel okay but only adds to the humiliation. We were so not close enough to do this—I don’t even know if I’d do the same for him.

Another part of me knows I would. Despite knowing him in passing, plus a few solid occasions, I could tell Harry was one of the good guys. He was always chivalrous around the building, friendly in any interaction I’d seen with him, loved enough to be thrown a surprise birthday party, and caring enough to always ask about how I was doing. And to do this.

When he glances up I don’t expect it. Our gazes clash and the weird energy from before creeps in again.

“Sorted,” he lets my foot down gently.

“Harry I owe you like…a massive dinner, and drinks are on me forever forward.”

“That’s not necessary,” he chuckles as he puts his little first aid kit back. “Just don’t wear heels like that again please. It’s not worth it.”

“They’re so pretty though,” I sigh. They’re now discarded on the tiled floor, the insides bloody.

“Let’s get you that beer,” he holds a hand out.

“I can’t. I’ve kept you late and you probably-“

“One beer.”

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“Just one,” his tone is gentle but he’s not taking no for an answer.

“Fine!” I admit defeat. He helps me up and together I limp to his couch.

We sit in silence for a bit while we drink. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but the events of the evening play in my head.

“He actually insulted me.” I blurt. Before he can ask questions I explain. “Firstly he was late, then he was droning on and on about shit I don’t even remember anymore. Then he was cheap about food, but because he paid for drinks he got me to pay for chips. Then he said I wear too much pink and nobody would take me seriously as an adult. That it was childish.”

“Really?” Harry leans forward from his end of the couch. “He said all that?”

“Yeah! I said men are allowed to wear their Star Wars shirts and Lord of the Rings bullshite. And when a woman wears more than one article of pink she’s childish?”

“What a prick.”

“I know!”

“You’re too good for someone like that.”

“Thank you,” I sit back, seen and validated.

“The pink makes you cool, stand out in a crowd. He’s just blind to look at you and think that. Or he’s just intimidated.”

“Oh yeah he lied about his height! So I stood there in those stupid pink heels taller than him.”

“That must have got him,” Harry grins. “I actually love that story.”

His words warm me.

“You’re so nice Harry,” I tell him. “Honestly you’re like a gem of a guy.”

“I’m not that nice-“

“Don’t tell me you’re a bad boy or something because you’re a solid good guy. Rare. Never change.”

“Hmph,” he clears his throat.

“Your girlfriend’s lucky. A lot of us have to put up with trolls before we find a good guy like you.”

Harry stays silent. Maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I should stop drinking.

“We broke up. Wasn’t good enough for her.”

Shite. Blistered, bloody, bandaged foot directly in mouth..

“I-I’m sorry. To hear that! Oh my god yeah I guess I haven’t seen her in a while-“

“Yeah been a few months now. I’m mostly over it.”

“How long were you two dating again?”

“Almost 3,” Harry twists his mouth to the side. I’d never seen him look bitter before. “I accepted it, the end of us. Until I hear from a friend she jumped right into another relationship. So…that must have been behind the scenes near the end of our relationship.”

Bitter indeed. “That’s a shitty way to find out too.”

“I wish she was just honest. Y’know like, I met someone else whatever. At least that way I took the hit at once and then got over it. Instead after a month of moving on I just got punched all over again.”

“That’s a dick move.” I agree. “I’ve seen you so many times the last few months why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, “I didn’t want to bring down the mood. Felt too loaded for a conversation on the lift.”

“You could have saved it for a walking-to-the-tube conversation?”

“Then just part ways after dropping that on you?”

“Isn’t that perfect?” I tease and he covers his face. I change the subject. “My 3.5 year relationship ended when he said he didn’t see me as marriage material.”

“I thought it was a mutual breakup?” Harry asks. I’m surprised he remembers what I told him when I first moved in.

“I lied. I didn’t want you to see me as your pathetically lonely neighbour.”

He laughs at that. At least I’d gotten a smile back on his face. “I thought it was a bit suspicious but I didn’t push it. Every time I saw you when you first moved in it always looked like you cried.”

“Oh my god!” I cover my face. “Don’t tell me that! That’s so embarrassing!”

It was true. I cried for three weeks straight after the breakup but I also thought I was sly enough to get around unnoticed.

“It’s not a big deal! I used to worry about you.”

“That’s another thing that’ll keep me up at night now—but see that’s sweet! You barely knew me and you worried. Like! You were raised right.”

“Sure,” he smiles my way with a laugh in his eyes. He was enjoying making me squirm but it’s this smile, one I’d never seen before directed at me, that made me squirm the most.

“Okay now stop being sweet and kick me out.” I gingerly stand and suck up the fresh pain that comes back.

“You can stay as long a-“

“Harry.” I look at him seriously. “I know we both work demanding jobs, and that’s what we have to do tomorrow morning. It’s past midnight and I should go.”

He sighs and gets up to help me hobble to his door.

“Good thing I live next door—oh my shoes. They’re in your-“

“I’ll get them to you later.” He promises.

“You just want to try them on in private.” I tease as he opens his door. He waits while I fish through my purse again for my keys. I remember then the missed calls from Dave—that feels so long ago.

“I like my feet whole.” He chuckles. “Plus I’m tall enough.”

“Some girls think 6 feet is short.”

“How do you know I’m 6 feet?”

I turn my key and let my door swing open.

“I’m good at telling heights.”

“What’s your secret?”

“Well,” I turn back to him and put my hand on my head. “I get my height and then just measure against the person. I gauge the inches which if I’m close enough-“ Harry moved closer to me so there’s only a few inches between us. “Uhm. If I’m close enough it’s easy to count up or down.”

“So you count up-“

“Three or so inches.” I look up, determined to meet his eye. It was just Harry. I didn’t need to feel weird around my neighbour Harry.

But I can’t look away. I never noticed the depth of his eyes; they’re mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

“It’s a neat party trick.” He says so low, but we’re so close it’s loud as hell to my ears. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing through my head.

“Don’t really go to enough parties to turn it into a trick.” My voice comes out squeaky and I clear my throat. “Mostly useful to compare a dating profile to the real thing.”

“Hm,” he hums. His fingers toy with the pinks of my hair before draping it behind my shoulder.

“I should go.” I say for the millionth time.

He looks at me again and I forget why I should go. His gaze drops to my lips and I feel hot—hotter than the pain on my bloody feet.

“You’re the real thing.”

It’s unconscious, the way I arch up to him. It’s natural, the way he meets me halfway. It’s unforgettable, the way his soft lips feel on mine.

Until I lean my weight on my toes and I’m reminded of my broken feet, this evening, and who I was kissing.

I couldn’t be kissing my neighbour! I saw him nearly every damn day!

“Har-“ I push gently at his chest and he’s quick to move back.

“Sorry I-that-“

“No I’m sorry that was me-“

“We should…”

“Yeah.” I grasp behind my back until my hand touches my doorframe. “Um…thanks for everything. Tonight.”

“Yeah.” Harry’s flushed and somehow more attractive than I’ve ever noticed. He also has a smidge of pink lipstick at the corner of his mouth but I file that away for later. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” I turn and quickly close my door, knowing Harry was not going to be the first to leave. Despite my head telling me not to, I turn and peep through the peephole. He’s still leaning against his doorframe, head bowed, running his hand through his hair. I watch him mutter something and then go in. I stay there until the automatic light switches off and then sink to the floor.

Harry. Friendly, funny, neighbour Harry. He’d dressed my bloody feet, served me beer, and then kissed me.

I touch my lips. I wasn’t even mad about it. This was going to be complicated no doubt, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

***

I manage to avoid Harry for a week. Which is a pretty impressive feat given our doors nearly open onto each others.

But he catches me on the lift after work one day. There’s already two others beside me and Harry nearly misses the lift, slipping in just as it’s closing. He does a double take when he sees me.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

“Smart choice of shoes.”

We look down at my Stan Smiths.

“I’ve learned my lesson…for now.” I look back up at the row of numbers. The lift stops on floor 5 and the couple get out.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states simply when the door closes.

“I have not!” I finally look at him and nearly lose my breath. When did he become so attractive?!

“We see each other almost every day living the way we do. And you’re telling me we managed to miss each other for a week?”

I shrug, “it’s been a weird week.”

“When did the weird week start?”

Saved by the bell. The doors open to our floors with a ding, but Harry blocks me from my front door.

“Are you serious?” I try to sidestep him but he stays in my path.

“We should talk.”

“We’re talking now.”

“C’mon.” He sighs and moves out of my way. I sigh myself before opening my door and leaving it open behind me. He takes the hint.

“I want to apologize for that night.” Harry says. “I was just feeling vulnerable and it shouldn’t have happened-“

“You’re joking right? I was going on about how good you were and I got a little too into it I think. I totally kissed you so I’m sorry. For making it weird-“

“I kissed you,” Harry tries to correct me.

“No I kissed you so I should apolog-“

“No.” Harry cuts me off.

“Why are we arguing about this?” I throw my hands up. We’re standing in the entryway going back and forth about this. It was stupid. “We’re both sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Let’s just move on okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “So we’re friends? You’re not going to avoid me in the building?”

“No.” I put my hands on my hips. “Cuz I wasn’t avoiding you in the first place.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and my breath catches. I lied. I wasn’t sorry I kissed him but I was sorry it ruined our friendship. Damnit.

“You’re impossible.”

“I thought I was the real thing?” I ask without thinking.

Slightly healed, but still bruised foot, directly in mouth!!!

“Impossible things can be real,” Harry’s mood changes. He stands taller and he takes a step towards me. “Do…do you want us to just move on?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

“I…we live right next to each other Harry. It’s-“

“Unconventional but not impossible.”

“Impossible.”

“But it can still be real.”

I can’t help it. I grin at how serious he was being with his play on words. He was serious about this though. It scared me a little.

“A date.”

“What about it?” I ask.

“We go on a date, see how things are. It they’re weird we go back to friends like we always were. If it’s good…”

“Okay. How about Friday?” I wanted this as much as it seemed like he wanted it. Dating was hard, apps were impossible. This good and kind man standing in front of me was impossible and real.

“Friday’s perfect. Wednesday would be even better.”

“Today is Wednesday.” I say before realizing what he meant.

“It is.”

“Okay. Pick me up at 7?”

“I’ll be on time.” Harry’s grin is contagious.

“Great.” I watch him walk back to the door.

“One favour?” He asks. I ask him what it is. “Wear something pink?”

“Most definitely.” My heart surges and I feel seen. So seen.

I think he was the real thing too. Impossibly real. And possibly something more than neighbourly friends.

Excited and hopeful were an understatement. I couldn’t wait.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #fic #impossibly real #i’ve been writing a little again #most of my stuff is angsty and annoying so #heres the fluffier piece lol

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strangertheories · 1 year

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I've been seeing people saying that platonic Stobin is only benefitting Steve or that Robin only exists to redeem Steve from past homophobia and I'd like to politely disagree. I don't think enough people realise just how crucial their friendship was to Robin's character development outside of Steve, so I'll just spell it out here in this long post for the four year anniversary of Robin coming out to Steve.

At the start of S3, Robin is deeply sarcastic and jokingly rude, but this is not entirely what she is actually like deep down and the true Robin doesn't emerge until her and Steve are talking to each other in the bunker. She says that she acts like she doesn't care and that she floats above it all (in reference to popularity) but deep down, she just wants to feel normal and accepted.

But Robin knows she could never be accepted fully because of her attraction to women. If she acts like she doesn't care and holds Steve at an arm's length, it keeps her safe. Robin can't be rejected if she doesn't let him in. She doesn't believe anyone could ever be friends with her if they knew her secrets, so constructs this personality around herself, however deep down she is just insecure and struggling with internalised homophobia.

A lot of people talk about Robin's coming out scene, rightfully so, but I think we need to talk more about what happened before. When Steve tells Robin he's attracted to her, she looks devastated. With her guard let down after a near death experience and drugs, she was finally able to bond with someone who she now has to reject.

At first, she tries to talk Steve out of liking her. She tells him that he doesn't know the real her and that if he did, not only would be not want to date her, but he wouldn't even want to be her friend. This is where it all becomes clear that Robin's sarcasm and refusal to let her guard down is not linked to her sexuality but rather because of it.

This is why Steve accepting her is so crucial for her character from then onwards. For the first time in her life, Robin let someone see her true self, knowing that she would be rejected and lose her only friend. And yet she wasn't. Robin let Steve in and his acceptance finally enabled her to realise that just because she is gay it doesn't mean that she's abnormal or could never be happy. Obviously, there are safety concerns that prevent her from running through the streets of Hawkins with a pride flag, but I believe this acceptance is crucial to the version of Robin we see in S4.

After S4, there were a lot of complaints that the Robin we saw in that season wasn't like S3 enough and felt like a completely different character. Firstly, Robin was shown to speed talk, be unhelpful and miss social ques when nervous in the final episode of season 3, so I disagree with that criticism. But most importantly, the reason that S4 Robin is different to the one in S3 is because S3 Robin was never real. It was a character she built in order to avoid dealing with the pain of rejection or accepting that she cares about what other people think of her. But due to Steve, Robin is able to realise that she doesn't have to be someone else, hence her personality shift.

That's also kind of why I dislike the idea that her relationships with Nancy and Vickie are better than her one with Steve because she wouldn't have had those relationships if it wasn't for him. Steve enabled her to open up and let down her cool and sarcastic persona. Robin is anxious and awkward with Nancy and Vickie from the get go unlike with Steve, which ends up enabling her to ultimately make more real bonds with them much quicker. She would not have been able to do that if it wasn't for the value his acceptance brought into her life.

I'm going to get a bit mushy and personal here, so feel free to skip to the end, but platonic Stobin isn't just meaningful to the fictional character of Robin. I'm an autistic lesbian and I have had a lot of struggles with making and maintaining friendships. For a while, I didn't have any friends at all and I was very depressed. But now my mental health is so much better because I was able to find a friend who fully accepted me, who I didn't have to mask around, who I easily came out to. Becoming friends with her has enabled me to become way more comfortable with unmasking my autism outside of that one relationship because being more vulnerable is what enabled that friendship to be so much better in the long term.

Robin is a character I relate to a lot, and I've written a lot of posts on autistic Robin in the past. I think seeing friendships portrayed on screen where a girl is able to let down her mask, learn to become herself and become much less distant to the point that she explicitly feels comfortable telling someone she has issues with social ques is great for all kids. So many people, especially autistic people, struggle with being themselves and with finding friends. Maybe Robin did just exist to redeem Steve or whatever, but I know seeing that friendship on screen meant a lot to me. It's so difficult to find someone who accepts you and to open up to someone, but I think that platonic Stobin shows that it can be worth it.

Sorry for the mushy side tangent at the end, but I hope this post explains the importance of Steve's acceptance to Robin's character development. Acting like she only exists for Steve is dismissive of the impact that friendship had on the development Robin has and will have, especially if you view Rebel Robin as being somewhat canon. Not to mention, clarifying a loveable character is no longer homophobic feels like a pretty good thing.

#long post #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #platonic stobin #ronance #rovickie #autistic robin buckley #byler #<- target audience

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beansterpie · 8 months

Text

K I threw together a translation for the new es21 anniversary chapter! There's probably mistakes and some awkward phrasing because I always end up prioritizing accuracy over flow rip. Hopefully the way I've formatted this isn't a total pain to read. I recommend looking at the page first, and then referring to the translation when you can't read something. I skipped any panels that don't have dialogue/text so just reading the translations might be confusing. Anyway it's under the cut!

(Lol sorry I didn't bother translating character blurbs on the right)

Page 1 Panel 1: Announcer: “Noooooww, there’s barely any time left on the clock! This final play will decide the outcome of the match!!” Panel 2: “One of these teams will command the University American Football World!! Panel 3: Which one will it be!? Panel 4: Two star players who once fought together now face off— Panel 5: in this Final Decisive Match”

Page 2-3 Panel 1: Eyeshield 21 aka: Kobayakawa Sena!! VS. The Commander from Hell: Hiruma Yoichi!! Panel 2: Set, Hut!!!

Cover page (4-5): Their First Collision!! Sena [Eyeshield 21] and Hiruma [the one who named him (literally the ‘parent’ who named him)]—

Page 6 Panel 1: [Some months earlier—] Panel 3: DEVILBAT GHOST!!

Page 7 Panel 1: TRIDENT TACKLE!!!

Page 8-9 Panel 1: The ball was fumbled!! Whichever team manages to claim it will win….!! Panel 2: [An American Football rule you can understand in 1 SECOND] Devilbat: YA—HA— It’s stupidly simple! Carry the ball to the enemy line and score (a touchdown)! DB jr.: You can get around 7 points! Panel 4: Monta: CATCH MAX!!! Panel 5: Suzuna: YA—!!! Panel 6: Announcer: The Kanto representatives for the Japanese National American Football University Championships is the team lead by Eyeshield 21 aka. Kobayakawa Sena— the Enma Fires…..!!!!

Page 10 Panel 1: Sakuraba: You really got revenge on us this year. It’s frustrating but it was our total defeat….! Panel 2: Sena: Though, one-on-one, for the most part I couldn’t really get past you (Shin-san) until the very end… Panel 4: Shin: undecipherable Panel 6: Ootawara: OOOOHHHHH MAKE SURE YOU HIT THEM HARD ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US, KURITA—!! Panel 7: Takami: Finally, you’ve earned the right to challenge the undefeated champions Page 11 Panel 1 & 2: Takami: The championship finals against the team lead by Hiruma, the Saikyodai Wizards— at the Koushien Bowl….!!! Panel 3: Sena: Yes….!!

Page 12 Panel 4: Monta: Mukya! What the hell, we can’t get into the club room! Riku: Looks like we have a few visitors— Panel 5: Crowd: The United States President’s son?? Even SP (I believe this is a tv channel) is here… Page 13 Panel 3: Sena: T-this is way too crazy… Kurita: To clear away people like this…..

Page 14 Panel…2?: Hiruma: Kekekekeke, you’re late fucking Fatty and fucking Shrimps Panel 3: Kurita: HIRUMA! Sena: —san!! Monta: And that guy’s from the American Match, the ultimate boss… wait actually, he’s a NFL player now! Page 15 Panel 1: It’s the President’s Junior, Mr. Don….!! Panel 2: Don: An ordinary person goes to a foreign country to run rampant for their own entertainment. A champion (or king lol) goes to a foreign country to express his respect. Panel 3: Don: In this country, it seems excessive meddling from pros in the affairs of amateurs isn’t appreciated, so I’ll get straight to the heart of the matter. Panel 4: Don: Together we will fight and acquire the throne. I’ve come to welcome/receive one hero. Panel 6: Kurita: ?? Monta: What does that mean? Sena: Isn’t this excessive meddling…..

Page 16 Panel 1: Crack! Panel 2: Sena: ….?? Inside my shoulder pad… Panel 3: Sena: What is this, it’s tiny… A white chip? Monta: Ooh, it’s in our shoulder pads too!! Riku: Since when… Panel 4: Hiruma: It’s called an RFID (radio frequency identification (apparently lol)) chip. When you have this on— Panel 5: Glasses: The current location of each player can be determined and measured by inches. Stats like speed and acceleration, it can analyze all data in real time. Enma Babes (presumably): A SCI-FI MACHINE LIKE THAT EXISTS!? Page 17 Panel 1: Don: There’s nothing Sci-Fi about it. Within the NFL world, all players have been using this for a number of years now. Sena & Monta: REALLY!!? Hiruma: They even have them inside the balls. Since you can measure the rotations that way Devibat: It’s true!! DB jr.: The actual pro sports world sure is turning into something amazing! Panel 2: Riku: So, this data analysis chip… Panel 3: Riku: Why are they in our protective equipment…?? Sena: I mean, there’s only one person in this world who would be devilish enough to quietly do something like that… Panel 4: Glasses: With this hoard of collected data, and by using the help of something like Google Brain, we can rely on machine learning to— Sena: Goo… what? Machine…?? Panel 5: Don: How sad~ Oohh, AI, AI! Civilization has simply taken the human privilege of ‘thinking’, and given it up to machines.

Page 18 Panel 1: Don: Most of all, humanity’s been dulled by favoritism, politics and social correctness. Well, compared to a slow/primitive ruler, it’s (AI) infinitely more reliable. Panel 2: [For our team to reach victory, what kind of player is indispensable? The answer provided by the AI was—] Panel 3: A running back with the speed of light! Or— A phantasmagoric (look it up) quarterback! Panel 5: Glasses: International Player Pass Way Program. In short, there is one slot available for a foreign student trainee as the Japanese representative. Don: Which means that we would be receiving you into our team. Page 19 Panel 1: Kobayakawa Sena, Hiruma Yoichi: between the two of you, only one—

Page 20 Panel 3: (I believe this is some sort of form that Sena filled out about what he wants to pursue after graduation— he says after graduation he wants to become a pro American Football athlete) Panel 4: Hiruma: With my physical abilities, I won’t be able to get into the NFL the usual way. Panel 5: Hiruma: Obviously, I’ll struggle for the top even if it kills me. That’s the thing that makes it fun….! Page 21 Panel 1: Don: When I consulted the man at the top, Panther, about which one to pick— he gave me a truly straightforward answer. Panel 2: Panther: Hm? Well they’re going to have a confrontation directly in the Koshien Bowl, aren’t they? Panel 3: Panther: Sena VS. Hiruma!! We’ll just take whoever wins. Because, isn’t that American Football…!!

Page 22 Panel 1: Sena: …… this contest against Hiruma-san, I’m glad that it’s an American football match. Panel 2: Sena: If it wasn’t, there’s no way I could win against Hiruma-san, you’d bring out your blackmail book and in an instant…. Hiruma: Kekeke, seems like you understand the situation reeeeal well Panel 3: Sena: I mean, whether it’s Don-san’s AI verdict or the pro tryouts— if you put your mind to it, you could use your blackmail book to get whatever you wanted. But, Hiruma-san, when it comes to American football, you’ve always…. you’ve always— Panel 5: Toss~ Panel 6: Hiruma: Well, since I’m going to win against you and become a top pro, I don’t need this thing. Page 23 Panel 5: Sena: But, the one who’ll win is me

Page 24 Sena: I’ll go to defeat you with all my strength. So, Hiruma-san, you also— Hiruma: Kekeke, naturally Page 25 Panel 1: HANSHIN KOSHIEN STADIUM Panel 3: Kurita: Truthfully, I want to root for both of their dreams— For Sena-kun, and for Hiruma. But if I really can’t choose both—

Page 26-27 Panel 1: Kurita: FUNNURABAAA!!!!! Panel 2: Kurita: For the sake of my team, and for Sena-kun’s sake, I’ll defeat Hiruma…..!!! Panel 3: Announcer: Koshien Bowl, the final, decisive match! Against the Saikyodai Wizards, made up of all star members throughout the country— Panel 4: Announcer: Somehow!! The Enma Fires are just slightly in the lead!! Panel 5: Gaou: Fuh… Half of American football is decided by the power of the line. This is the unmatched power of Kurita when he has something to protect….!!!

Page 28 Panel 1: Announcer: Noooooww, there’s barely any time left on the clock! This final play will decide the outcome of the match!! Panel 2: Announcer: Two star players who once fought together now face off— Panel 3: Announcer: In this Final Decisive Match!! Panel 4: Announcer: Eyeshield 21 aka. Kobayakawa Sena!! Vs. The Commander from Hell, Hiruma Yoichi!! Page 29 Panel 1: Hiruma: KILL! KILL! Panel 2: Suzuna: K.I.L.L…..to kill? What’s it mean? Doburoku: In American football, it’s a sign that’s given by the pitcher. It means to completely kill the strategy that had been agreed upon. To put it simply, it’s a signal to hurriedly reset the strategy of the play. Panel 3: Mizumachi: After seeing our defense formation, looks like they want to change things up! Panel 4: Sena: Hiruma-san’s— that ever-changing adaptability’s strength—

Page 30 Panel 1: Hiruma: Kill— Panel 4: Unsui: NO!! THERE HASN’T BEEN ANY CHANGE IN HIS PLAN!! Page 31 Panel 1: Hiruma (I think): This was just a snap counter from the get go— A signal to start the play after the 4th KILL…!!! Panel 2: Enma player: Shit, even though we know what kind of guy he is! Enma player 2: He’s gonna throw a pass— Enma player 3: No, don’t let Hiruma trick you! He’s not throwing— he’s still holding it!! Panel 3: This is a run….!! Panel 5: Shit, that’s wrong, it’s a pass after all….!!!

Page 32 TOUCHDOOOOWN!!! Page 33 Panel 1: Hiruma: YA— HA—!!! Panel 2: Announcer: The final decisive battle was completely controlled by the sorcerer of the field-- Hiruma Yoichi! (there's actually a word in this line I don't understand lol, but this should be the general gist) Panel 3: Announcer: In a sudden turnabout victory, the Saikyodai Wizards win the championship—

Page 34 Panel 1: Announcer: —No, the remaining time on the clock is 1 second!! Panel 2: Hiruma: !! Taka: That was my bad. Panel 3: Taka: On the ground was Sena-kun with his light speed, and in the air Monta was closing in. I had no choice but to catch the ball one second earlier than planned. Panel 5: Unsui (presumably): — 1 second left. Whether we laugh or cry about it, this will be the final play— Page 35 Panel 1: Sena: These sort of seriously close calls… I dunno if you’d call it deja vu or— Panel 2: Monta: That’s right! This is the kind of cliff’s edge that we’ve run along a bunch of times! Panel 3: Agon: Aaaahhh? Ain’t this match already certain victory— Panel 4: Agon: —If we weren’t up against the tiny trash brigade, that is. Hiruma: Kekeke yo~~~ You also know what’s up huh, fucking dreads. Panel 6: Yamato: That’s right, all of us should know by now well enough that it hurts. Panel 7: Yamato: That there are demon-like men out there whose power explodes during dire straits like this.

Page 36 Panel 1: That there was once a miraculous team called the Devilbats— Panel 2: Hiruma: The last play will be Eyeshield 21! They’ll 100,000,000,000% comes at us with Sena’s run!! Anything else is a ruse, completely ignore it, don’t even think 1mm that it’ll be anything else!! Panel 3: Unsui: There’s only one way to go: Sena’s run. All of us will open a path!! Page 37 Panel 1 & 2: Sena’s Run, Complete Specialized All Star Team!! VS. Anti-Sena formation, Complete Specialized All Star Team!!

Page 38: — DON! Page 39 Panel 1: Announcer: Remaining time: 0 seconds! Panel 2: Announcer: With this last play, it’s game set! Panel 4: Yamabushi: Rodio Drive!! Are they coming with Riku!? Taka: No— Panel 6: Riku: Sena…!!

Page 40 Panel 3: IKKYUU…!! Panel 4: How can he reach it, to go into a cut from such a distance…..

Page 42 Panel 1: Sena: UUOOOOOOOOHH!! Panel 2: Mamori: Sena…! Panel 3: Ikkyuu: That guy’s too damn fast— I already knew that but…..!! Panel 4: Announcer: Sure enough, in the end they went with the light speed running back, Eyeshield 21!!! Page 43 Panel 1: Mizumachi: Uha! I said make way! Panel 3: Chuubou: A path for Sena-senpai….!!!

Page 44-45 Panel 3: Announcer: He’s passed everyone! At this rate it’s a touchdown—!!! Panel 4: Hiruma: Kekeke, dig out your eyeballs and give them a good wash— take another look. It’s not over. Panel 5: Kid: He’ll stand in the way— in the end, the ultimate opponent—

Page 46 Panel 1: AGON!!! Page 47 Panel 2: Shin: Sena’s Devilbat Ghost has been fully realized. Panel 3: Shin: It’s a perfect technique for a runner to get past his opponent. The Optimal Technique/Solution.

Page 48 Panel 2: vvrrrrr (vibration sounds) Panel 3: Glasses: The Optimal Solution for this situation is none other than the Devilbat Ghost. But even then, Agon who possesses inherent superhuman reaction speed will likely stop him. Panel 4: [That is the judgement the machine learning system has made based on the real time analysis from the RFID chip] Page 49 Panel 3: Shin: The essential thing you need to reach new heights, is to surpass your Optimal Technique/Solution™— with Courage™ Panel 5: Sena: That’s right— my road isn’t limited only to the two directions that I can dodge Panel 6: Shin: It relies on his light speed cuts. A third option, much like a trident. In a manner of speaking—

Page 50 Panel 1: DEVILBAT TRIDENT!!! Page 51 Panel 1: Mizumachi: You mean he might not dodge!? Riku: A headlong collision!! There’s no way… Panel 2: Glasses: It’s absolutely impossible, how reckless. There’s no chance of winning. The AI declares that this is at most a feint. In the end, Sena will definitely move to evade him! Panel 3: Hiruma: Kekeke, you’re wrong. It’s a hundred billion years too early to try getting past using that hand. Panel 4: Hiruma: But that’s why you’ll go for it. Isn’t that right, Sena. Panel 5: Agon: Aaahhh~~ Hiruma, I’ve fought with you so many times it makes me sick, so I already know all of that….!!!

Page 52 Panel 1: Hiruma ??: The Human brain hasn’t been able to compete with semiconductors for a long time. I’m sure it’ll aaaalll become like that in the future. Panel 2: Hiruma: When it comes to searching for Optimal Solutions™, no one can compete against Sir AI anymore. But— Panel 3: Shin: Beyond the Optimal Solution™ Panel 4: Beyond even the very summit— you continue to struggle with only courage at your back. Page 53 Panel 1: THAT IS WHAT AN ATHLETE IS Panel 3: ??: I’LL GO PRO AND KILL EVERYONE!! Panel 4: ??: I’LL SURPASS THE TOP!!! Panel 5: ??: That athlete will be—

Page 54-55 Panel 1: Hiruma: ME Panel 2: Sena: ME Panel 3: [He surpasses theory, with his light speed courage—!!]

#eyeshield 21 #es21 #es21 anniversary chapter #translations #my translations #??#idk lmfao #anyway this chapter was!#i mean it sure was #there are things i like about it but also a lot of things i'm very apathetic on hfhfhff #a lot of it feels very rushed due to it just being 55 pages lol #the main matches in the series last -volumes-#AND ALSO #WHERE TF IS MUSASHI???#WHERE IS MUSASHIII???? UH HELLO??#high key kind of mad about it

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writingduhh · 3 months

Note

I saw you were looing for asks and ive been thinking of this for a while

Okayy so imagine working at staples with ted and at first you were just coworkers but eventually you grow feelings for him and its basically just an awkward confession until he says he like you back (and then making out in the breakroom)

Ok I actually love this 😭😭😭

I forgot to add the make out scene RAHHHHH I’m sorry! If you want me to redo it let me know! :)

Ted Nivison || Coworker Romance

Ted had been working at the same department store as you for about a year, and you two quickly hit it off as friends. Bonding over your shared sense of humor and love for playful banter, each shift became a fun escape filled with laughter.

It was a typical Friday evening, and the store was finally closing for the night. You and Ted were the last ones on shift, wrapping up your usual duties. As you both went about your tasks, the playful teasing and jokes were in full swing.

"Hey, y/n, think you can handle closing up electronics without me?" Ted called out from a few aisles over, his voice teasing.

You looked up from your work, a smirk playing on your lips. "Why, worried I might mess something up? Or that I’ll be lonely?"

He sauntered over, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe I am. Who else is gonna keep you entertained?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Oh, I don't know. I might just have to imagine you over here."

Ted leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Imagining me, huh? What else do you imagine?"

Your cheeks warmed, but you kept your cool. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. "You’re right, I’d love to know. Tell me.”

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "Nope. Can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

He chuckled softly. "Well, I’ll leave you to your ‘imagining’ then." He smirked, emphasizing the word with a playful tone.

After wrapping up, you both headed to the front of the store, locking the doors and shutting off the lights. The night air was cool and refreshing as you stepped outside, walking toward your cars in the nearly empty parking lot. This was your usual routine—chatting as you walked, your shoulders brushing against each other, savoring the last few minutes of the evening together.

As you reached your cars, Ted paused, looking at you with a serious expression that was uncharacteristic of his usual playful demeanor.

"Hey, y/n," he started, hesitating for a moment. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

You tilted your head, curious. "What's up?"

Ted took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "I've really enjoyed working with you this past year. More than that, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. And, well… I think I’ve fallen for you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed his words. "You... you have?”

He nodded, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Yeah. I like you, y/n. A lot."

A smile spread across your face as you stepped closer to him. "Ted, I like you too. More than just as a friend."

Relief washed over his face, and he let out a laugh. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

You both stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. Ted then gently took your hands in his, his gaze searching yours. "Can I... can I kiss you?"

You grinned, feeling a rush of warmth. "Yes, Ted. I'd like that."

With a soft smile, Ted leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was brief but filled with unspoken affection. As he pulled back slightly, his eyes met yours, filled with happiness and relief.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," he admitted softly.

You chuckled softly. "I'm glad you did."

You both stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. Ted then reached out, still holding your hand. "So, how about we go grab a bite to eat? My treat."

"I'd love that," you replied, squeezing his hand.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #ted nivison #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison headcanons #ted nivision #ted nivision x reader #ted x reader #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison imagine #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #ted nivison fanfiction #ted nivison fic #ted nivison fluff #ted+nivison+imagine

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paper-crab · 10 months

Text

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

summary: letters to your past crushes get out and its a whole mess, based on the movie/book, yadayada

warnings: swearing, cliché, very rushed

wc: 6914

ignore any grammar mistakes it’s too long for me to reread and if it doesn’t flow smoothly i’m so sorry i rushed it so bad

Writing letters was an emotional release; something healthy to pass the time, and look back on later.

That’s why you’d written a series of letters, spanning from 3rd grade to now- senior year. They were intimate letters, ones you wrote to get your mind off of a crush you’d gained, so when you’d looked for the box to add a new letter and couldn’t find it, you freaked out.

Luckily, younger you was only able to get her hands on two addresses.

Unfortunately, those addresses were the two worst ones you could have gotten. Everybody else had either moved, or come out. They were irrelevant.

Who had gotten the letters, however, were not irrelevant: your school's player, and your best friend's boyfriend. You were fully in panic mode now, how are you supposed to recover from that? You can only contemplate your options for so long before anxiety eats at you. Maybe if you skipped a week or so of school it would blow over.

“Yeah, not happening. Rise and shine.”

You groan. “Dad, you don’t understand. This could ruin my life, I might actually die.”

He doesn’t respond, leaving you to grovel and pick up the pieces of your pride.

In order to avoid your friend's boyfriend, you need to avoid her, which means you’re walking around school alone. You know you’ll need to have that awkward conversation, telling him ‘I liked you when you were just my childhood best friend- those feelings have passed’, but you also know that you are going to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. Asserting yourself was never really your strong suit.

You had grown up next door to her boyfriend, and fell out of touch with him in middle school. While he was blossoming as a social butterfly, you lurked in the background, like a moth drawn to his effervescent light. Like the sun, the light was too hot for you to stay in, and you stopped talking until mid junior year when your friend had reintroduced you.

The other letter, the heartthrob, had been a lot kinder in middle school. You’d heard some not-so-kind stories about him recently though, and they were the exact opposite of the kid, Matt, that you knew.

You hadn’t been particularly close or anything, only exchanging a few words in your 7th grade math class, but you were infatuated with him. When you were younger, he hardly talked, but lacrosse had brought him out of his shell; the shell you’d never managed to crack- or rather the cocoon you’d never emerged from.

Matt probably didn’t know your name, even though you’d boldly signed it in your letter, so you were confident he wouldn’t find you. It’d be just another day for him, hopefully.

Your friend's boyfriend, on the other hand, was constantly with you. He lived right next door to you, and you felt like it was impossible to avoid him. You’d try to get through the school day without an encounter, then lock yourself in your room to never be seen again.

The first couple periods you had? Had gone off without a hitch. Then you hit lunch, and even if you tried, you couldn’t run from your friend forever. She found you, her boyfriend trailing behind.

“I missed you this morning!” She tells you, reaching to give you a hug. You don’t do much but nervously laugh, pulling away from her. “Yeah, I came late.” You lied.

“Ugh I wish, I’m going to get lunch, you coming with?” She says, more to her boyfriend than you. He shakes his head, “I’m good.”

“Alright, be back in a minute!”

“Can we ta-”

You cut him off immediately, nervous laughter coming back. “I have a test to study for, so I’m going to the library, sorry. We’ll catch up later. He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it himself.

After excusing yourself, you make a beeline for the library, seeking a moment of respite. The library turns out not to offer that much solace either, because you see Matt’s two brothers enter, meaning he can’t be far behind. When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on you, lighting up slightly. You see him excuse himself from his brothers, and you immediately stand and run out of there, muttering “Nope, no, no,” under your breath. The sound of you slamming the library door open definitely isn’t quiet.

You can’t help but begin to panic, packing up your things and abruptly running out of the school, through the parking lot, and jumping into your car. If studying wasn’t how you were going to escape the situation, avoiding lunch apparently was. It’s tempting, incredibly so, to skip the rest of your day, but you know you’d be in so much trouble. You can’t handle that right now.

You head back in and continue your day, just praying, wishing, dreaming that you won’t encounter the two people you don’t want to see most- but now you’re seeing them out of the corner of your eye in every passing period; and you can’t even confide in the one person you most want to.

The school day ending feels like your saving grace. You’re exhausted, mentally and physically, from running away from your friend and her boyfriend, and narrowly avoiding Matt didn’t help.

You walk out of the school, into the parking lot towards the direction of your car, ready to be done with the day.

In highschool, you’re never done.

Your friend's boyfriend is leaning against your car, looking around for you, arms crossed. You make a sharp left, in the direction of the lacrosse field and bleachers. You’re not really thinking about it when you do it, it’s just the closest shelter, other than walking back in the hellhole that is the school.

You make your way onto the bleachers mindlessly, trying not to think about the events of today. You set your backpack next to you, not realizing there’s an unexpected guest making his way up to the top of the bleachers where you sat.

“Hi.” You jump, startled by the sudden voice as he sits next to you. You recognize that voice, obviously, so you flinch before turning to him. “Y/n, right?”

You nod, not sure how to continue this. There’s a plethora of things he could say, and you’d rather not hear any of them. Matt taps his fingers on the bleachers, waiting for you to acknowledge that he’s said anything; when you realize you nod.

“Look,” he starts, and that’s never a good sign, “Your letter was really kind and whatever, but I just broke up with my girlfriend. I’m not really ready for anything serious, so if you’re looking for casual-”

“I wrote that in 7th grade.”

“Oh.” He says, scratching his head. “Why’d you send the letter then?” You look to your left, spotting your friend's boyfriend walking towards you, and you panic.

“Kiss me,”

“Okay.” He shrugs, grabbing you. His eyes are closed, but you don’t bother closing yours. You’re a bit busy glancing in the direction of your other victim, and when you watch his face fall as he turns back around, you finally close your eyes. “Not that I’m mad about it, but what just happened?”

“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re not the only one that got a letter. The other person is my best friends boyfriend,”

“Damn. That’s low of you, and I’m not special? My feelings are hurt.” He smiles a little bit, trying to ease your tense expression. “I wrote his before I ever wrote yours, and before they knew each other. I can’t talk to him, though, and if she ever finds out, it'll break her heart.”

“Okay, respect. I gotta get to practice, but I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You want to say no, but you don’t. He did just do you a big favor after all. “Yeah, see you then.”

He sticks to his words, finding you in the library the next day. His mouth twists into a grin when he sees you, and he shuffles over holding eye contact with you.

“Hey,” He says, slightly whispering. It might be lunch, but the librarian is still strict. She wants to preserve the quiet atmosphere of the room, in which you can only hear the sound of flipping pages and an occasional murmur. “Mind if I join?” He settles in next to you.

“Uhm.. listen,” You say, launching into a monologue, “about the whole letter thing, It’s, uh, not what it seems. Well it is, but it’s not. I wrote those letters a long time ago, and they don’t reflect my feelings now, and I never meant for them to get out, so, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into it, and I’m sorry you did, get dragged into it, that is.”

“If you didn’t mean for them to get out, why would you send them?” He questions, tilting his head.

“I didn’t send them.”

“Okay, uhm, who did?”

“I don’t know, but I cannot talk to my friend's boyfriend, like ever.”

He nods, a mixture of concern and confusion evident on his face, like he’s really mulling the situation over.

“So, someone sent those letters behind your back? That’s not cool, dude. Messed up, but I think we can help each other out here, take control of the situation.” A wicked grin takes over his face. If you squint hard enough you can imagine a lightbulb over his head, like he’s had an “aha!” moment. “I have an idea,”

“What do you mean, control?”

“Yeah, control. Think about it, we fake date. You need your friend’s boyfriend off your back, and I need my ex to get jealous and come back to me. Win win, and it gives us a chance to control the narrative.”

“Yeah, I mean… it could work, maybe?” You respond, uncertainty in your tone. “How would it even work?

“I don’t see how it couldn’t.”

“Okay, I guess, but I don’t see how it could be that simple.”

“Yeah, it could. Trust me, we play it smart, manipulate the situation, and we get what we want.”

“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

“You sure about this?” Matt asks, searching your eyes for confirmation.

“Yeah, I mean, you said it best. I can’t talk to him about this, not for a long while, anyways.”

“Sick.”

“So, uhm, what next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, rules and stuff?”

“You want rules, you make ‘em’” He shrugs. You grab out a notebook, labeling the top ‘Rules’ in neat handwriting. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“No kissing,” you start writing, and Matt groans.

“If we’re not kissing, how do you expect anyone to believe we’re dating?” You squirm a little bit.

“Matt,” you say in a hushed tone. Heat rises to your cheeks. “I don’t really kiss people,”

“Wait,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke, “was I your first kiss?”

When you don’t answer, he gasps. It almost makes him feel bad, but not enough to apologize. “No kissing then,” he confirms, trying to steer the conversation forward. “What else?”

“No couple-y social media shit,”

“Agreed. We keep it low-key.” He nods. “What about spending time together? How often do we go on dates, and are we hanging out all the time?”

“I don’t know, maybe like, once a week? And I don’t wanna be around your friends all the time.”

“You don’t want to be around yours either,” he points out.

“Fair point. Once a week, I hang out with you?”

“Most days, yeah.”

“Also, no meeting the parents. That makes it too real.” You add.

“Off the table. Oh, I’m not calling you babe or any of that gross shit.” He says. You pale at the thought, literally gagging. “Please don’t, I think I’d throw up.”

“That it?” He laughs at you.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

The bell rings. “I’ll walk you to class,”

Your face morphs into confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“To make it seem like we’re really dating..?”

“Oh. Yeah,”

He walks you to class, hugging you when he drops you off. “Meet by the bleachers after school?”

“Yeah,” You say, slightly dazed by his request.

When you walk out of your classroom, you let your mind wander back to his ask, ‘what could he possibly want’ playing through your head. You walk through the front doors, taking a sharp left towards the bleachers; just like yesterday.

You’re not waiting for very long when Matt sneaks up on you, whispering “Boo.” into your ear.

You jump, caught off guard, but that’s besides the point.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hands on your waist.

“What are you doing?”

“People are looking.” He shrugs a little. You’re eager for him to get to the point; the longer you’re away from your bed, the more cozy and inviting it sounds. He clears his throat. “I need your number,”

He’s careful to make it come out as a whisper so surrounding students don’t hear. To them, you’re already a couple.

“And your address, so I can pick you up tomorrow.”

“What?”

“As your boyfriend, I’ll be driving you to school, and home, and I need to pick you up for our date too.”

“Date tomorrow?”

“If you’re free, for the ‘spending time together’ bit,” he says, pulling his hands from your waist and doing air quotes with his fingers.

“I can drive myself,” You tell him, as he grabs his phone out and hands it to you sneakily. You proceed to put your number in, and your address, before handing it back to you.

“You can, but it’s more convincing if we come together.” He murmurs, absorbed in drafting you a message. After a moment, you hear the familiar ping of a notification.

“There,” he grins proudly, showing you the message. “Now it’s official.”

The morning sun casts a warm glow on you, making you feel cozy and relaxed, despite the nerves growing. The idea of Matt, and his brothers, coming to pick you up scares you a bit. You fiddle with the strap of your backpack as you wait on your front porch.

When you see a car pull up, you know that’s your cue to start walking down your driveway. Matt hops out, rushing to hug you and open the passenger door for you.

“Doesn’t Chris usually sit there?” You ask quietly, still smiling to keep up the charade. “Yeah, I made him move.” He whispers back before he walks to the driver's seat.

“Good morning,” Nick says, sounding completely done. Chris doesn’t even raise his head, giving you a small wave. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb them. You think them going out of their way to pick you up this morning was disturbing enough.

The car ride was a mixture of awkward silence and small talk. Nick and Chris are both too tired to engage much, but Matt is trying his hardest to keep them involved.

You pull up to the school gates after a short while, Matt parks the car. You get out and he walks over to you, joining your hands while you walk in. He gives you a reassuring smile as you walk in, “Don’t worry, they’re not always like this in the morning. I promise it’s not personal.”

You nod, trying your best to offer a smile that comes out faint. “Yeah, I won’t take it personally. Thanks again for the ride, Matt.”

“Of course,”

The second you get into the school, Nick and Chris part ways with you two. You’re still holding hands, you realize, when the murmurs and glances direct themselves towards you. Matt can feel the anxious energy you radiate because of it, so he leans in to whisper in your ear, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Don’t worry, it’ll blow over soon.”

For all the stories you’d heard about him, you hadn’t expected him to be even half as polite. Maybe it’s because you were faking, you decide.

The rest of the day seems to float by in a blur, but Matt was right; the buzz around your relationship did seem to dissipate the more people saw you together. During lunch, you find yourself next to Matt. You’re doing your best to maintain the facade with his lacrosse friends, Chris among the group.

You can feel the stare of your best friend and her boyfriend though, and it only brings back those feelings of guilt and anxiety. You’re grateful for the distraction of food, though, because it provides you an out from conversations.

You’re not used to basking in the light like this.

As the bell rings, you feel a mixture of relief and apprehension. Matt walks you to your last class, of course, offering you a quick hug before parting ways.

The class passed by slowly as you try to piece together the events of the day. In under a week, you went from a nobody with 3 friends to a somebody dating one of the most popular boys. Fake dating.

When you’re finally dismissed from the shackles of public school, you feel an odd sense of relief. You know it won’t last very long because of your scheduled date tonight, but it’s there nonetheless.

You find Matt waiting outside your classroom, as promised, a smile on his face. He falls into step beside you as you make your way towards his car. The chatter of surrounding students fades into background noise when you’re with him. A cool breeze dances through the air, making you shiver a bit. For a moment, you stayed silent, enjoying the comfort he brought you just by being next to you.

It was reminiscent of middle school; his silence made you comfortable because you weren’t alone.

“Wait, don’t you have lacrosse practice?” You interrupt.

“I take Nick home everyday, I have time to take you too.”

You nod. As you navigate through the sea of juniors and seniors preparing to leave, Matt turns his head towards you. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, offering a chuckle and a hesitant smile, “Just processing the day, you know? It’s kinda weird.”

He nods understandingly, turning his head back towards the car that Nick is already waiting at. The ride to your home feels significantly shorter when you engage in pleasant conversation with Nick and Matt.

Despite the guilt you feel over keeping up this act, the conversation flows genuinely and you find yourself really enjoying it. He pulls into your driveway, putting the car in park and smiling at you.

“Thank you, and thanks for today.”

“No problem, I’ll see you tonight?”

“You bet,” You say, waving goodbye to Nick. You walk into your house and feel like a puddle of goo, every emotion flooding your body in one go. It’s only the second day of pretending, and you’re feeling like a fly stuck in a web of lies.

Despite your conflicting feelings, you begin to get ready for your date, feeling genuine excitement. Even if it’s just as friends, Matt is really pleasant to be around.

Matt: Movie at 7:30?

You: Perfect, see you then.

The hours tick by as you prepare yourself to hang out with him. You hear a knock on your front door that makes you jump. “Dad, I'm going out!” You yell, rushing out to join Matt.

You weren’t expecting him to hug you when you stepped out. There was no one around to keep it up for, but you decided not to question it. “Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He grins, pulling away from you. “I didn’t buy tickets yet because I wanted you to choose the movie,”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, heart filled with gratitude. It was a small gesture, yet it immediately made your middle school crush on him come back.

“I feel like you know a lot about me, so I thought you choosing the movie would help me learn something about you.” He said as you pulled into the movie theater parking lot.

“Yeah, I’ll pick.” You giggle at him, hopping out. When you walk in, you’re overwhelmed by the aggressive scent of buttered popcorn. Matt glanced around, beginning to guide you to the ticket counter. ��Shit, that’s my ex.”

“It’s cool, play up the pda to make her more jealous,”

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans into you, pretending to whisper something in your ear. When you walk up to the counter, he unwraps his arm for a mere second to grab his wallet.

“Movie?” He asks. You tell him and he nods. “Two tickets please, he hands his ex his card.

“Hi, Matt.” She says, smiling at him. You immediately get possessive vibes that make you feel uncomfortable, but that means the plan is working. “Oh hey,” He smiles lightly, acting nonchalant.

“Who’s this?” You can literally feel the jealousy she's emitting, and it makes you shift in his grasp. “This is my girlfriend, the tickets?”

“Oh, sorry.” She hands him the tickets, making sure to brush his hand while she glared at you. As you walk towards the next counter to buy popcorn, you start laughing. “I don’t think she liked me much.”

“Good, means the plan is working.” He says, going to fish for his wallet again.

“Nuh-uh. My turn.”

“That’s not really how dates work, but nice try.”

It feels like the hours have crept away from you. The movie comes to an end, despite you willing it to last longer. Matt offers you a hand and pulls you up, making sure to hold your hand when you exit the theater. It almost makes your heart flutter; then you remember why he’s doing it.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” He says, offering you his jacket when you step into the brisk air. You smile, feeling fulfillment while you slide his jacket on. “I liked it, thanks for letting me choose. And, um, thanks for tonight. It was… interesting.”

“No problem,” he says, sounding relaxed. “I liked it too. We make a good fake couple, don’t we?”

You continue chatting while you walk to the car, and while he drops you off. Matt gets out to walk you up to your door, genuinely surprising you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He says, offering you another hug. You slide off his jacket and melt into him before handing it back. “Thanks, Matt.”

“See you tomorrow morning?”

You nod.

You close the door behind you, feeling the weight of the day settle into your skin. You’re beginning to ease into the fake relationship; even as the facade gets increasingly complex. You sink into your bed, shifting off to dreamland.

As the week goes on, your arrangement only gets better. You avoid your friend's boyfriend, and he starts getting desperate texts from his ex. By the end of the week, you’re sure he’s close to breaking it off.

When Matt drops you off at home on Friday afternoon, you’re insanely smiley. You feel on top of the world. The day seemed normal enough, for your new normal anyways, but there was an odd air of tension everywhere you went. You knew something was wrong when your best friend landed on your doorstep mere moments later.

She was your best friend for a reason- you trusted her with almost everything, so she didn’t understand why this week, you’d suddenly gone ghost. You normally talked every second of every hour if you could, but this week, your communication had been limited to fleeting glances across the cafeteria, or in the hallway.

You open your front door to find her standing there, eyes ablaze with anger. “Hey.. what’s up?” You say, prompting her to talk and cut through the thick silence.

“Where have you been all week?”

“At school..?”

“No, I mean, where have you been? You avoided me on Monday, and you started dating Matthew Sturniolo out of nowhere; I didn’t even know you were talking! I’ve barely seen you this week and normally we spend all our time together. Something isn’t right.”

You feel like you’re shrinking under her intense gaze. Stammering out an apology isn’t really working for her, or you, because the weight of your fabricated relationship with Matt pinned your tongue. “It’s not like that..”

“Don’t give me that!” She says, glaring at you. “We tell each other everything. Why are you shutting me out now?”

You wrack your brain for an excuse, trying to think of anything to get her off your back when you remember a conversation you’d had with her about Matt. “Look, I know I’ve been unfair to you… but I know you don’t like Matt, and I really do. I’ve been caught up with him, and I didn’t want to tangle you into it because I know you don’t like him.”

“He’s a dick.” She says to you, bluntly. “I don’t think you should be dating him, much less talking to him and ignoring me for him. Haven’t you heard the shit he’s pulled with other girls?”

“Of course I have but-”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not different. He’s going to leave you in the dust too.”

Her words cut through you, sharp and painful. The truth hovered on the tip of your tongue, but the weight of secrecy still held it down. You didn’t know how to get out of this one. “He’s not like that with me,” you attempt to defend, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “People change, you know?”

“You’re being naïve, and I hate seeing you like this. Ignoring your best friend for a guy who’s going to hurt you in the end.”

You’re feeling shackled, like you’re in the ocean trying to stay above the surface, but there’s a weight tied to your ankle.

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, voice shaking “but I know what I’m doing. We’re happy together. You say, a feigned smile gracing your lips. Her harsh glare softens. “I trust you. Just, be careful. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, acting like you’re relieved, but the pit in your stomach only deepens as the web of woven lies becomes more intricate. She leaves, and you close the door behind you, sinking down to the floor.

All of this because of some letters.

The sound of a message coming through your phone snaps you out of your contemplation. You glance at it, immediately smiling when you see Matt’s name pop up.

Matt: Hangout tomorrow? Nick and Chris r asking

You: Yeah, what time?

Matt: Noon?

You: I’ll be there

Matt: I’ll pick you up

You heart the message, standing from the floor. When you retire for the night, your friend's warning re-enters your mind. You know she’s right, but the reality of your fake dating thing with Matt tugs you back into its tangled web, as it always does.

Each text from Matt, while making you smile, feels like another string of deceit weaving into a thousand more. It just deepens as time goes on. The lure of his attention and the comfort of the familiarity you feel with him vie against the guilt that gnaws at your conscience.

You’ve realized the gravity of the situation, but the truth remains locked in, barricaded by fear and the entanglements you’ve created. You want to call it off, you’ve wanted to, but you don’t want to risk falling into a chasm of more confrontations- from both your friend, and her boyfriend.

You try to shove it out of your mind so you can sleep though, preparing for your day with Matt tomorrow.

When you wake up the next morning, you feel giddy. You put more effort into getting ready than you normally would on a Saturday. Then, there’s a knock on your door and a hug awaiting you. This time, you don’t question if people are around, you just accept it with a grin.

“Nick and Chris wanted to come get you,” He tells you, pulling you down the driveway. Yet again, the front seat is empty for you. The energy of the triplets was infectious, in the best way possible. You immediately found yourself comforted by their presence, the simplicity of just being around them had an inexplicable effect on your already good mood.

The drive feels effortless as you settle into conversation with the group. It reminds you of how uncomfortable you’d been mere days ago, and how much had changed. You kind of frown at the thought, but quickly catch it. Matt’s smile never faltered though, leaving you with an odd sense of melancholy when you’re reminded that it’s all fake.

You can’t help but be surprised by your surroundings when you enter the house. You knew the outside, obviously having known the address, but the inside exceeds all your expectations. Family pictures litter the walls, candles are everywhere. It’s cute.

“Your parents aren’t here, right?” You whisper. “Nope.”

“So, what should we do?” Chris speaks up, cutting through the silence. You shrug in response while Matt and Nick go into deep thought.

“We should bake!”

“Nope.” Matt says at the same time you say “Okay.”

When Matt hears you, he turns in your direction. Seeing your smile at the presented idea, he changes his mind. “Yeah, baking sounds good.”

Nick glances at him skeptically, the switch-up being unusual. When your eyes wander towards Chris, you notice his confusion too.

“Baking it is.” Nick mumbles, leading you to the kitchen.

“Alright, what are we making?” Chris pipes in, pulling out various bowls. “Brownies?” Matt suggests, “I think we have a mix and I don’t wanna run to the store right now.”

“Wait, we’re awful at baking. Why are we baking?” Chris questions, wracking his brain to find the answer.

“It’ll be eventful,” Nick replies.

“If we mess shit up and it gets messy, I’m blaming it on you.”

Nick groans, going to grab the mix and the various ingredients listed on the box. “If you do that, I’m gonna tell mom about that time that you-”

“And that’s enough!” Matt cuts him off, grabbing eggs out of Nick’s hand. He ushers you further into the action of the kitchen, imploring you to get comfortable.

“You bake a lot?” He asks, smiling.

“Not really,” You admit, laughing at the commotion surrounding you. It’s fascinating to you how those around you have become such an integral part of your everyday life in the week you’d known them, despite only being in your circle for under a week.

You know your relationship with Matt is false- how could you not? You remind yourself constantly, but these new relationships you’d forged because of Matt? Some of the realest ones you’d ever experienced.

A crack snaps you out of your thoughts, followed by a millisecond of silence. “Chris!” Nick yells, looking at the fallen egg.

“How is this my fault?!” Matt finds himself laughing with you.

The brownies turn out so horribly burnt you’re not even sure if you can call them brownies anymore, and the mess is colossal, but even when Matt drops you off you only have good things to say about, and to, the group.

“Thank you,”

“Of course. I’ll pick you up on Monday?”

“See you then.” You say, waving to Nick and Chris.

The next couple weeks go by so smoothly, you almost forget you’re acting. They’re relatively the same as the first, save for more interactions with your friend. Being with Matt and his brothers, and even his friends, feels natural. Your weeks become more routine, and the plan is working. Matt’s ex is obviously getting more green as time goes on, and your friend's boyfriend won’t even spare you a passing glance.

By your one-month ‘anniversary’, you’re almost 100% sure you two are in the clear. You’re waiting at home for Matt to pick you up, excited to be with him, but feeling a pit on your stomach nonetheless. When you hear the now-familiar knock on your door, you can’t help but run to answer it.

“Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He smiles and reaches out to hug you, like normal, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes in the way it usually does. It’s missing its charm. He guides you to the car, sure to open the passenger door for you, but the gesture is missing its usual warmth. He takes you to this cute diner, one that you’ve mentioned in a passing conversation, but the earlier apprehension you felt only grows stronger.

When you sit down, you finally decide you can’t take it anymore. “Is something wrong, Matt?”

“Not wrong, really. My ex wants me back. She texted me the other night,”

“Oh,” Is all you can say, trying to force a smile to your face. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” He says. You’re not sure if you’re grasping at straws, but you feel like he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself too. “Do you think you’re okay to break this off?”

“Uhm, yeah. I think my friend’s boyfriend is leaving me alone.” You nod at him, looking everywhere but his face. “Should we just go?”

He can’t argue with that, so instead of getting that cute little dinner date you were promised, you’re sitting back in Matt’s car in silence as he drives you home. The atmosphere felt heavy. You’re stopped at a red light when you finally glance over at him for the first time this entire ride back. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic you’d never noticed before, while his eyes are set on the traffic lights.

“I’m sorry,” He finally says, the second the light turns green.

“For what?” You reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“For coming up with this idea. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t be sorry, Matt. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. It wasn’t stupid; it did what we wanted it to do.”

He nodded, but your gaze lingered on him. You could see the mixture of guilt and gratitude swirling through his eyes. “At least it’s over, right? We manipulated the situation.�� You say, trying to bring up the mood. You’re trying not to make something of nothing, but his mood seems just as melancholic as yours. “At least it’s over.”

When the car reaches your house, Matt can’t find it in himself to move, to walk you to your door. He hears your seatbelt click, signaling that you’re taking your leave.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Matt.”

When you exit the car, a bittersweet realization washes over Matt. This isn’t what he wanted. He grips the steering wheel, hurriedly putting his car into reverse. He can’t linger any longer, or he’ll make a rash decision and run back to you. He wanted his ex back, and now that’s what he’s getting.

The next day, you wake up with absolutely zero pep in your step. You drag yourself out of bed, drag yourself into your car, and drag yourself through the halls in the morning. The entire world seems more quiet without Matt next to you; your steps echo in your ears. You catch glimpses of familiar faces, but today, they seem almost alien. It makes you wish you’d never left your bed. By lunch, everybody knows something is wrong. Your spot by Matt’s side has been reclaimed by his ex girlfriend. You don’t miss the pitying looks his friends give you, especially Nick and Chris.

You never realized how humiliating it’d be when people saw that Matt left you for his ex.

You settle in your old spot, across from your best friend and her boyfriend, trying to make the whole thing feel natural. It doesn’t.

The whispers and glances you’re receiving from others feel like needles pricking at your already unsettled emotions, and your friend’s compassionate eyes don’t make you feel any more comfortable.

“Matt’s a jerk. I hate him.” She tells you, and it hurts your heart a bit.

“I don’t.” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the situation pressing on you. She winces at you defending him, but rebounds. There’s a strong desire to call him every name in the book, but resorts to saying “I can't believe he would do that to you.”

You want to tell her the truth, the lies of the situation having weighed heavy on your mind, but you know that’d defeat the purpose. You thought that when you’d ended the relationship, the entanglement of fibs you’d found yourself in would unravel, but you feel as though they’d only gotten more complicated. “You told me he would.” You say, pushing your school lunch around. She winces again.

“I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

When Matt stands next to his ex, who all his friends tell him is a catch, he can’t help but feel empty. His eyes wander away from his table, landing on you. Memories flood back, a mixture of genuine and orchestrated moments swirling within his mind. He’s completely dipped out of the conversation his friends are having, his grip on his new-old girlfriend's waist weakening as he thinks of you.

He catches the slightest glimpse of your eyes, one that you immediately divert; a mixture of confusion and hurt sprinkled within. A pant of guilt hits him, but he tries to forget about it as he turns back to the conversation presented to him.

“What’s gotten into you dude?” Someone asks. Matt shrugs, trying to stay involved. His eyes wander back to you, and then over to Chris, who mouths “Get her back.” at him.

He tries to pretend like he didn’t see that. He has what he wants, his girlfriend, and you have what you want, maybe.

He knows one thing: he doesn’t like the hole your absence has left in his daily routine.

The week comes and goes, Friday night rolling around and the pain of losing each other doesn’t go away. Matt’s battling himself internally to convince himself that both you and him are happier apart; he knows that’s not true. You’re fighting with yourself constantly to not spill your guts to someone, pressure that you had shared with him before the fake, but impossibly real split, weighing on you. It’s past midnight by the time your wandering mind calms enough for you to sleep.

At this point, Matt’s drafted up about 4 text messages to you, and none of them convey what he’s truly wanted to say. He called it off already with his ex-ex girlfriend. The moment she’d started badmouthing you in front his friends put a sour taste in his mouth; that, and he’d realized he was searching for you in every one of their interactions.

He’s restless, consumed by thoughts of longing for your presence. In the silence of the night, he’s grabbing his keys and heading. You think you’re imagining it when you’re awoken by the stall of an engine, but you’re forced to confront the taps on your window.

As you slowly approach the window, pulling back the curtain, you're confronted by Matt’s anxious gaze, illuminated by the faint, cool glow of the moonlight. You rush downstairs, barely stopping to slide a hoodie and some shoes on. The mix of emotions you feel are mirrored in his expression- a blend of nervousness, vulnerability, and longing. With the weight of unspoken words hanging between you, he opens his arms, pulling you in for a warm hug. He’s worried you won’t hear him out, desperate to express what he wanted to tell you in his unsent messages, but his desire to hold you far outweighs his uneasiness.

“I couldn’t keep lying to myself, and you.” He says, face buried in your neck. “I’ve been lost without you, and I can’t pretend I’m happier this way. I miss us, even if it wasn’t real.” His voice contains traces of sincerity, regret, and insecurity, but he feels a sense of strong relief take over at his admission. “I know it was fake- it started out fake- but I’m in love with you now.”

His honesty resonates as his eyebrows unfurrow, his entire body relaxing, and the weight that’s been dragging you to the bottom of the ocean is shed. Rather than sinking, you’re floating peacefully above the soft waves. You pull away from him, your anxieties dissipating like mist under the moonlight. The depth of his words stir an array of emotions within you: astonishment, relief, and a spark of hope. You search his calm eyes, being practically slapped in the face by his sincere and loving expression.

You can’t help but kiss him, seeing the way the moon puts an ethereal glow on his gestures. “I missed us too,” You start, in a soft voice. The air between you is finally cleared. “and I love you too.”

“Can we date, for real this time?” Matt blurts out, going to kiss you again. He feels intoxicated, your second-ever kiss not being a fraction of enough to sate his ever-growing hunger.

You might have started as a fraud, but somewhere along the way, when the tides shifted and your world changed, you emerged from your cocoon, into a glorious and charismatic butterfly.

“If you’ll have me as your girlfriend, for real this time.”

He kisses you again.

#matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

165 notes · View notes

heart-ripping · 4 months

Text

Office Kiss.

pairing: Regina Mills (The Evil Queen) X Reader

summary: you somehow end up kissing your ex-girlfriend in her office.

words: 539 words, 3045 characters.

warnings: exgirlfriend!regina, visitor!reader, kissing, no smut involved (my apologies), fluff.

hello babies, i couldn't resist myself pulling off a good oneshot of the infamous regina mills!

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Regina sat at her desk, surrounded by the usual chaos of a busy Monday morning. Her office was buzzing with activity, the sound of ringing phones and clacking keyboards a constant backdrop. She sipped her coffee, trying to summon the energy to dive into her overflowing inbox.

Just as she was about to open her first email, her friend and sheriff of the town, Emma, rushed over. "Regina, we have a new visitor in town this early morning. Can you show her around?"

Regina sighed but nodded. "Give me a moment."

A few minutes later, she stood in the lobby, waiting for the new arrival. She glanced at her watch, impatiently tapping her foot. The elevator doors opened, and out stepped a woman she never expected to see again: You, her ex-girlfriend.

Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. You looked as surprised as she felt. "Regina?" you inhaled, a mixture of shock and something else flickering in your eyes.

"You," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Memories of your time together flooded back, but she quickly pushed them aside. This was serious. She had to stay professional.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," you expressed, breaking the awkward silence.

"As do I," Regina responded, forcing a smile. "Let me show you around."

The two of you walked through her office, with Regina pointing out the different departments and introducing you to various colleagues. As you moved, the initial shock began to wear off, replaced by a strange sense of familiarity. Despite your past, you both slipped into an easy banter, reminiscing about old times and catching up on the years you had missed.

As you both reached her desk, Regina's phone rang. She picked it up, only to have the cord catch on a stack of papers, sending them tumbling to the floor. Slightly flustered, she bent down to pick them up, with you doing the same.

You both reached for the same paper, and suddenly, you were inches apart, your faces so close that she could feel your breath.

Time seemed to slow as you locked eyes. Without thinking, Regina leaned in, and before she knew it, your lips met in a soft, unexpected kiss. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to bring back a rush of emotions she'd buried long ago.

You both pulled back, with Regina wide-eyed and breathless. "I'm sorry," Regina blinked, feeling her cheeks burn increasingly.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "No, it was my fault. I didn't mean to..."

Regina could only nod, avoiding eye-contact and attempting to compose herself. "We should go," she mumbled, her breath short. "This is complicated."

"Yeah," you agreed, a small smile playing on your lips. "But maybe it's a good kind of complicated?"

Regina didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure what this meant or where it would lead, but as she looked into your eyes, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this surprise reunion was the start of something new.

For the rest of the day, she couldn't help but steal glances at you, wondering what the future held. One thing was certain: life at the office was about to get a lot more interesting.

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#regina mills x reader #regina mills #evil queen #evil queen x reader #ouat #lgbt #lesbian #ouat imagine #regina mills fanfiction #once upon a time #lana parrilla

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morganas-pendragons · 5 months

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breathe | hunter

Hunter has been struggling with nightmares and guilt over not being able to save Crosshair from siding with the Empire. You are there to pick up the pieces.

AN: OKAY. So. Never in a million years did I think my funky little brain was going to be writing Bad Batch fanfiction again for the first time in like 2-3 years, but here we are. I've been obsessed with Season 3. I have particularly enjoyed Hunter and Crosshair in this season and have had ideas for both of them, so here I am.

Also, for those of you who have been around a while, this season has also gotten my brain rolling with ideas for Jedi!Skip (If you know you know) so if there's interest in that, I will definitely write for it.

Mando'a Translations:

Ad'ika - Little One

Me'suum'ika - Little Moon

Anyway, this is set before Crosshairs return in s3. Female reader.

***

It starts off as it always does with them. Suffering barricaded behind wary eyes, hidden underneath the surface and carefully tucked away to be left until they are alone.

They all do it. They all hide from their emotions, and when embraced, it is only in the quiet of solitude. Only when they are alone. Only when they are the ones able to be haunted by it. Not one of the clones in your charge will dare burden their brothers with their heartache.

Which is why you would have never known of Hunter's despair had it not been for Omega.

You were deep in sleep when little hands wrapped around your shoulders, frantically shaking you awake. "Shhh, ad'ika," You grumbled, throwing your arms over your eyes as Omega continued to shake you from where she knelt beside your cot. "We all need our beauty sleep-"

"No, no. Didn't you hear it? It's Hunter." Omega pleaded. You rose one arm to peer at the young clone through the dark. Even swathed in shadow, you could still make out the desperation written across her face. Whatever she'd seen had clearly scared her. "I think he's having a nightmare in the cockpit. I wasn't sleeping anyway. And when I tried to wake him up, he nearly punched me. I don't think he meant to."

Now fully alert, you allowed yourself to slip out of your tiny cot and follow Omega to the stairs that led to the cockpit of The Marauder. You could just barely see Hunter's dark hair over the pilot's seat.

The two of you had gotten along from the start. When you were assigned to the Bad Batch due to your unconventional means of engaging on the battlefield, The Council had essentially cleaned their hands of you and never bothered to breathe another order in your direction again. You'd preferred it that way.

Hunter had been hesitant to work with a Jedi at first. They all had. When Wrecker had finally been the one to get past your exterior, they all came to learn individual traits about you that each one gravitated to.

For Hunter, however... He was always drawn to the security you offered. Clones were never guaranteed safety. With you, though, he knew he would always find security in your embrace. Even when he believed he didn't deserve it.

Frowning, you swallowed the knot in your throat and laid a hand on Omega's shoulder. She was still staring intently at the cockpit. You knew how close she and Hunter were, especially after Tech's death, and you didn't want her to have to see him wake from the throes of a nightmare.

You opened your mouth to murmur to her when his frantic, broken cry of his brother's name rang out in the silence.

It wasn't Tech's.

"Ad'ika, go back to Wrecker. I'll take care of him."

Omega opened her mouth as if she were going to argue before turning on her heel and padding quietly to where Wrecker was fast asleep. You swallowed your fear and slowly approached the cockpit, the hems of your robes brushing against bare feet as you quietly padded forward until you stopped right behind Hunter.

You peered over the top of the pilot's seat and softened. Hunter was fast asleep, as you had anticipated, his neck and head bent at an awkward angle as his fingers tightly gripped the armrests of the chair. His knuckles were nearly white.

"No, no- Cross, please..." Your heart sank as he fought himself in his dream, fought the image of Crosshair walking away from you and joining the Empire. You wondered what event he was dreaming about. You could very easily slip into his dreams, but you'd promised them during the war you'd never do that unless you had to. "No, Cross!"

You were kneeling with your hand on his thigh by the time he woke up. You could have easily anticipated his next move: Lunging outward to attack an assailant and pin them effectively with his weight against the controls. You chose not to. You needed him this way to give him the comfort he was going to be seeking.

"Hunter." You whisper. Smooth, soft fingers glide through his hair to part it and allow you to see his eyes. He's staring right at you. Staring right at you with dark eyes so wide and fearful you almost wonder if he is seeing something you're not. That's probably the worst part. The clones are always anticipating what you, a Jedi, cannot see. It is usually devastating. "Me'suum'ika."

It's the roll of Mando'a off your tongue that finally coaxes him to properly look at you. The nickname had been given once you'd solidified your standing with him upon settling on Pabu. In the quiet night along the shoreline, Hunter had convinced you to sneak away from the others to spend some time with him alone.

You hummed quietly as Hunter settled over you, dark eyes gleaming against the moonlight above as he caged you with his body and planted his knee between your thighs. "You know," He murmured lowly as he tangled his fingers in the hair at your nape. The gravel of his voice sent shivers down your spine. "I think it's customary to kiss someone once you know they feel the same way about you."

You had only just uttered your heart's confession moments before. He'd been so afraid to admit he felt the same way. So afraid to let himself indulge in his desires, so afraid to admit he was deserving of them.

You rose one hand to rest it in the dip of his chest.

"I think I've got my endearment for you," You whisper, lips quirking upward as you raise yourself to hover mere inches from his mouth. Your breath trembles as it fans his face. He too is swallowing the fear, embracing the courage, and letting himself free fall into that desire he spent so long running from. "Little moon."

"Me'suum'ika," He repeated. You nodded and continued twirling his hair around your fingers, desperately trying to ignore how his body was pressing against yours in just the right way. "I always did like that name."

"I know you do," You whisper. It's only a second later when you catch a glistening flash of tears against his cheeks, and you're leaning upward to kiss them away. He shudders against you at that action and allows you to guide him back to sitting in the pilot's seat. "I know you."

Something flickered across his face as you slowly settled yourself in his lap. Whether or not it was guilt, or shame, or anger... You didn't know. But you'd give anything for him to find some peace in the midst of all this grief.

His breathing is still erratic just under where your hand lays in the dip of his chest. You watch his eyes unfocus as he struggled to ground himself and come fully out of the throes of whatever nightmare he'd endured.

You didn't dare ask him what that was. If it had to do with Crosshair, it was obviously enough for him to look wrecked. Like he hadn't done enough. He'd never felt like he'd done enough to save Crosshair to begin with. And now, with Tech gone...

Well. We all have to end up somewhere.

"I don't know what guilt you carry, or what anger," You guide his hands to your hips and hum quietly as you continue your ministrations of twirling your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered closed and leaned into the warmth of your touch, seeking it out as if it were the only thing that could possibly sate a need he couldn't quite identify. "Or your shame. What I do know is you. I know you. I know you, and your heart, and I know how loyal you are to who you love. How you protect what you love. What happened to Crosshair is not on you, Hunter. We all make our own choices. We are who determines how we end."

Autonomy. Also another new concept for clones.

Hunter swallowed the knot in his throat and leaned forward until his face was tucked against your chest. A long moment of uneasy silence passed before he decided to speak, "I can't get it out of my head. The image of him just standing there and watching us fly away. We failed him. I failed him. And then Tech..."

His voice faded into silence once again. As the leader, you understood carrying losses. You understood the pain of failure when it comes to not being able to protect what's yours. That's one of the things he's come to love about you. You understand him in a way that no one else has ever been able to do.

You tapped his temples once with your fingers. It was a silent question, one you only ever asked when you wanted him to let his guard down enough to help him. To comfort him.

He nodded. The moment he did, Hunter allowed the carefully constructed barricades keeping his emotions at bay to fall, and you swept in to steady him when they did.

Breathe, my love.

You securely wrapped your arms around him and pressed your chin to the top of his head. Underneath your hand, you felt his breathing steadily begin to slow.

He tipped his head back just enough to look up at you. Your fingers continue a downward descent, across the slopes and plains of his face, until they're brushing against the fullness of parted lips.

Hunter nods. It's all he can do. He is a man standing alone on an island, and you are the sanctuary he seeks.

Bathed in moonlight, the Sergeant surged upward and caught your lips with his own. Your hands now laid tangled together against his chest.

Just breathe.

#sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfic

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year

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an old friend, a new start part iii {r. lupin}

plot: Fourteen years after graduating Hogwarts, you’re offered a job to be the new Muggle Music Professor. Funnily enough, your old friend, Remus Lupin, is also offered a new job at Hogwarts that year.

in this chapter: remus tries to make amends

character: remus lupin x female reader

PART ONE, PART TWO

Days had passed since the full moon - since you had confided your feelings in Remus and he had rejected you - and you had been hiding away in your office for the last two days. To be perfectly truthful, you were hideously embarrassed. You had put your heart on the line and Remus had crushed it far too easily.

At first, you'd been angry. You'd been so angry, hating how cowardly he was, hating how Snape had been right about him, hating that he didn't mirror your feelings. Soon, that anger turned to shame. Then shame turned to sadness. Had you just lost your best friend? Had you just thrown your oldest friendship away? Sadness turned to quiet denial. Maybe Remus was right. Maybe you had let yourself get carried away in a childhood crush and being here, being back in Hogwarts with him... Maybe he was right.

You didn't really know where to go from here. You didn't know if you could show your face in front of Snape or even worse, Remus. What would you say? Oh hi Remus, yeah I'm just fantastic after I poured my heart out to you and you just tore up my heart like it was paper! I'm great. You wondered if he would even speak to you. The things he'd said... You'd put it down as false words but the more you repeated his words in your head the more you started to believe them.

"We are colleagues. Nothing more."

Was he right?

It was on Monday morning that you had to be a little bit braver, you had classes after all. You went down for breakfast at 6.30am on the dot. You'd even went so far as to bring a small basket. Not wanting to risk an awkward run in, you thought it best to fill your basket and take it back to your class to eat before lessons began.

You hadn't been counting on Remus already being in the Great Hall though.

Your heart skipped a beat. There were a few handfuls of students but as for adults it was just you and Remus. You avoided his gaze as you walked towards the teachers table, jaw clenched as you tried you absolute hardest to be nonchalant but from the way your eyes darted to him every few steps and your racing heart, it was obvious that you weren't doing as good a job as you wanted. No, he wasn't right and how dare he convince you that he was! You weren't just colleagues. Anger bubbled in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to him.

"Good morning, Professor Lupin," you said tightly with a forced smile as you began to pluck some breakfast pastries from the teacher's table and put them in your basket.

As much as you tried to hide it, he noticed the tremble of nervousness in your hand and the feathering in your clenched jaw. Lupin's heart ached, "(y/n)..." The sound of his voice made you tense up, frozen in place as your heart thudded in your chest, "I- We need to talk. I-" He swallowed, "I didn't mean what I said."

There was the anger again. You scoffed, "Well you said it, didn't you? Must've been some truth behind it."

Your anger was to be expected. Remus was actually surprised that you hadn't hexed him, "Please let me explain, come we'll take breakfast and go to my classroom and I'll explain. Please."

"Oh I hardly think that's appropriate for colleagues, Professor Lupin," your voice dripped with venom like a snake puncturing right through to his heart, "we wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression or have them think that we're acting like children, now would we?"

You didn't give him a chance to explain as you turned on your heels and sped away, the croissant in your hand squished and crumbling due to your anger. You shoved it in your basket then shoved right past Snape who had witnessed from afar your tense exchange with Remus. He had a smirk which screamed 'I told you so' but you pushed past and hurried back to your class.

Remus watched you go and released a long breath, "Oh, Prongs," he whispered hopelessly, "how do I fix this?" He knew that if James were here, he would've sorted him out but alone... Remus had no idea what to do. Would he really rather lose you completely as opposed to letting you in?

Severus breezed past him, "I see that went well," he muttered as he sat a few seats down from Remus who turned on him with narrowed eyes, "Your other half seems rather upset with you Remus... Something wrong?"

"What do you know?"

Severus shrugged but the smirk on his face said it all, "I know only that you are a coward. I told Professor (y/l/n) that too but obviously, she didn't heed my advice." Remus growled and without another word, he stood abruptly and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Severus smiled as he took a sip of his tea.

For the next week, all you felt was anger. You were so unbelievably annoyed at him. You couldn't understand why or how he could say such horrible things to you. You were his best friend and all of a sudden because he got a little uncomfortable with adult feelings he had just pushed you away? It just didn't make sense to you.

Of course, you'd told Minerva all about over a cup of chamomile tea as she could tell you needed all the calming remedies you could get, "So how long has it been since you spoke to him?"

"A week."

"And you've not heard his side of the story?"

You frowned, "His side?!" You exclaimed, "Minerva, come on!"

Minerva rolled her eyes, "I think, my dear, what you need is some tough love." You blinked, "Yes, what he did was wrong and hurtful and your anger is certainly justified-"

"Thank you."

"But-"

"But?!"

Minerva gave you a pointed look which you knew to be a warning to stop interrupting her, "But," she continued, "have you ever considered his perspective of things?" You were silent and she smirked slightly, "He lost everyone he cared about, including you when your friendship fizzled. He had no one after that. He barely got by and he didn't form any sort of relationship or friendship with anyone else. For twelve years, whilst you lived your life probably experienced love and lots of friendships am I right?-" you gave a small nod, "he didn't. So how hard do you think it would be for you if after twelve years of pure isolation you were thrust back together with a former friend? Despite how he feels, this is all so new again to him, it's a new and unnatural and..." She trailed off, expecting you to finish the sentence.

Your facial expression had softened significantly and McGonagall sat back in her chair taking a long sip of tea as she smiled triumphantly, "He's scared."

McGonagall hummed as she swallowed her tea, "Wouldn't you be?" Her voice was soft, "So yes, while he is indeed in the wrong for saying those things to you, it came from a place of fear not hatred. He's protecting himself and protecting you... I think he deserves to say his piece to you, do you not agree?"

You sighed, "Yeah... I... I hadn't thought about that." It was true, you'd been wrapped in your bubble of anger, furious that he did this but not trying to understand why, "You're right, Minerva. I need to go talk to him. Talk not shout."

As you left Minerva's office, your stomach flipped uncomfortably. You hated being wrong, you hated having to swallow your pride it just wasn't a pleasant experience. You checked your watch for the time and realised that Lupin would be teaching his third years soon so you hurried along and up various staircases to get to his classroom. You didn't know what you were going to say but you knew that you were going to listen.

Remus was inside his classroom shuffling through various essays his students had written him when you knocked on his door. He didn't hide his surprise at all, "(y/n)," he said, voice quiet, "What are you doing here?" He truly thought that you would never speak to him again.

"I wanted to apologise for-"

He cut you off, "You have nothing to apologise for. I was so out of order and so monstrous to you. I apologise. I am so deeply, truly sorry. I never meant it." He was being sincere, you could tell by his eyes, "I-" he had so much that he wanted to say but the clock chimed and he knew students would be arriving soon. He cursed which made you smile slightly, "I've got a lesson just now," he thought for a second then suggested, "why don't you stay for it? It's just my third years and we're just going to be fighting a Boggart." He gestured over to the wardrobe that stood in the middle of the class, "It shouldn't take too long. We can speak afterwards-" because I have so much I want to tell you, he thought.

You nodded, "Okay," you agreed quietly.

As students began to filter in, you smiled as various greeted you. Harry, Hermione and Ron all seemed positively happy that you were here. You let Remus tell his class what they'd be doing, teaching them how to use the Riddikulus spell to change the Boggart. You were perched on a stool to the side of the class, watching him with curious eyes. He was a natural at this. He was so good at teaching, at holding the attention of the young students. He was so clever and he was using that for good; to teach and help students learn. You caught yourself smiling like a schoolgirl at him and quickly forced yourself to remain straight faced but as you looked at the students you saw Hermione look at you with a knowing smile.

"Okay, ready and-" Remus opened the wardrobe door brandishing... Snape?

Your head whipped to who's Boggart it was and you understood. Poor Neville Longbottom. You'd heard first hand how cruel Snape could be to the quiet boy so his fear was understood. Neville used the Riddikulus to transform Snape's robes into his grandmother's clothing. It was you who gave the loudest laugh in that classroom. Neville grinned at you. Ron Weasley was up next turning a spider to a spider on skates. The class continued until it got to Harry and you stood up realising what his worst fear could be. Would it be Voldemort? If so, that wasn't something you wished the class would see. The Boggart twisted to become a large dark Dementor, floating towards him, its bony fingers extended to him. It truly was a wretched thing. Harry blanched and you moved forwards-

But Remus was quicker.

He slid in front of Harry with ease and the Dementor twisted and transformed into...

The whole class gasped.

It was you. You on the ground dead beneath a large white full moon. Your hand covered your mouth, breath trembling beneath them as your heart thudded in your chest. You dying was Remus's worst fear. You put the puzzle together Remus's true worst fear was killing you on a full moon. He did care for you.

Remus snapped a loud, "Riddikulus!" and the moon blew up like a balloon, your image fading from view, and then began to release all of the air from it, flying around the room until Remus used his wand to throw it back inside the wardrobe. You were still staring at the space where your body had been lying. Remus's cheeks were scarlet as he quickly muttered a dismissal to his students but they were unmoving and when you looked at them, you found them all staring back at you. They were all shocked minus one Hermione Granger who was smiling.

"I said class dismissed!" Remus exclaimed, "Out with you all, go!" There was a tenseness to his voice that rarely appeared so upon hearing it, the class scampered. The whispers and murmurs were loud as they all left and then, there was silence.

Remus had his back turned to you, breathing deeply, and you could see that his ears were still scarlet. For a moment, neither of you moved. It was you who broke the silence by stepping forwards and saying quietly, "We'll be the talk of the school now..." It was a pathetic attempt at a joke.

Remus swallowed, "I suppose you might believe that I truly didn't mean anything I said that night now."

"I always knew," you said, "I just didn't understand why you said then in the first place but I do now."

His shoulders sagged and he turned to you, cheeks still a rosy pink, "And what do you think?" He eyed you curiously.

"You're scared. I thought it before I entered this class and now I know it to be true. You're scared to let me in... You're scared in case you hurt me." He gave a barely noticeable nod. You were right, "I understand how isolated you've been over the last twelve years and I know that it's hard to trust other people and yourself. I know how difficult it is to open yourself up to the possibility of getting hurt or in your case, getting someone else hurt but... I trust you, Remus. I always have. Do you think you could trust yourself too?"

"It's not quite as easy as that, (y/n)."

"Remus..." You wanted so desperately to cry but that would achieve nothing so instead, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to tell him just how much you cared for him, "who was the one person you confided being a wolf to? The rest of the boys figured it out themselves but you... you told me. Why was that? Why for six months was I the only one who knew?"

"I have something to tell you; something that kills me every day of my life. I'm so ashamed of it and I swore to never tell anyone but- but I feel safe with you. I trust you and I trust that you won't judge me as harshly as others might. You're the one person I truly trust, (y/n)."

Remus faltered, "Because... You were and you remain the one person I trust so wholly and completely." It was the truth.

"You've noticed that I get sick every month. I disappear for a few days and come back a very pale, exhausted version of myself... You always ask why, always concerned about me and I brush it off. There's a reason for that. There's a reason for it all."

A small smile pulled your lips upwards, "You know I trust you the same, too. I've never thought for a moment that you were a monster." Remus looked down, "You have never been a monster and you never will be, despite your condition and flaws and all. You're Remus. You're my Remus." You stepped closed to him and gently, so gently, your fingertips traced the long scar over his face, "My beautiful, silly Remus."

"I'm a werewolf, (y/n)." He couldn't look at you and instead focused on his hands which were clenched together in his lap, "That's what the scars are. I was attacked when I was younger and... every month, I turn."

You could see his jaw clench, the muscles feathering, as he swallowed hard, "Why won't you let yourself be happy, Rem?" You whispered. The way you looked up at him, doe eyed and lips pink and plump.

His eyes were closed, his heart hammering in his chest, as he waited for you to say something but all he heard was a shuffling sound. His heart sank thinking that you'd gotten up and left but he gasped when he felt your hands slide over and into his, slowly prying his fists open to hold his trembling hands.

To be honest, he didn't actually know why this was a hurdle that he couldn't get over. He didn't know why he found it so impossible to let the one person he loved into his life. He had a good reason to but you were here, offering your love to him... so why did he not want it?

"I trust you, Remus Lupin. I trust you first and forever."

A pained expression flashed over Remus's face. He was torn. Despite not meaning any of what he said because you weren't just colleagues, you were more, you had always been more. Remus Lupin was in love with you and he always had been but was he ready to admit that to you? Was he ready to fully admit it to himself? He didn't trust himself, didn't trust his condition and Remus thought so lowly of himself that he didn't understand how someone, especially someone like you, could love him. For the last twelve years, he hadn't let anyone else in. He hadn't trusted anyone, not even himself. He had long since forgotten what it was like to let someone in - fully in - and it terrified him. Remus's mouth opened as though he were going to tell you and god, as he stared into your eyes he really wanted to tell you but there was something in the way. Himself.

"(y/n)..." The way he spoke, the tone alone told you the answer. Quickly, you straightened and stepped back as your own walls built right back up, "I... I don't know what to say."

You forced a smile, shaking your head, "You don't have to say anything, Rem. It's fine." Your voice was too light, too breezy for the heaviness of the conversation.

Remus stepped closer but you stepped away immediately. You were pulling away from him, "I'm just- I'm not ready." It was the truth, he simply just wasn't ready yet and it broke your heart.

"I know," you nodded, giving him another smile yet this one was sad, "it's okay, seriously. I- Just- do you believe me when I say that I trust you and when I tell you that I- that I love you?"

Remus blinked, "I... I know that you care and you trust me somewhat but I don't think you realise the full potential of my-"

"Can I have a go?" You asked, sweeping past him as you gestured to the wardrobe which held the Boggart. Remus gave a confused nod. You opened the door and stepped back, allowing the Boggart the space to transform into... Remus Lupin dead on the floor. Remus took a deep breath, "It's been my boggart since we were in fourth year," you told him as you stared at the lifeless image of him on the floor. You swallowed hard, "it was during your transformation that we had the lesson. I threatened to hex the boys if they dared to tell you... Riddikulus!" The Boggart was forced back into the wardrobe.

"Why... Why did you show me?" Remus's voice was small.

You cleared your throat, "Because I need you to know how deeply I care about you. I need you to know that there is still one person alive on this Earth who thinks the world of you and always has. I need you to know that there is hope still left for you despite the loneliness. I'm not begging you to be with me, that's your choice and I'll respect it... I just need you to know that I am here and I am all in if you are. I..." You couldn't find the words and you desperately needed to prove to him that you were speaking the truth so you did the only thing you could think to do.

You kissed him.

It was soft and only lasted a second or two but it got the message across. With trembling hands, you pulled back and straightened your robes. Judging from the way a red hue crept up Remus's neck to his face and ears, you presumed the message got across. You whispered a goodbye before you left the classroom, heart racing and head spinning. It was your last chance to prove to him that you loved him, that you cared enough to have him flaws and all.

Remus sank into a chair after you'd gone, eyes focused on the spot where the Boggart had transformed into his dead body as his fingertips brushed his lips gently.

The handful of times that you'd seen Remus in the following week, the atmosphere was rather tense and awkward. Despite the two of you agreeing to just be friends, there always seemed to be an elephant in the room; unspoken words always on the tip of your tongue. So honestly, the two of you had been avoiding each other just a little bit.

That was, until, Harry Potter asked Remus if he could learn more about his parents again.

"Can I have another look at the photos you have, Professor?" Harry asked you as he sat forwards on his seat.

You already had it looked out, it was in your desk drawer so you pulled it out and handed it to him. For a few minutes, there was silence as Harry looked through the photo album. You evaded your eyes from the photo of you and Remus as Harry flicked by it. Remus glanced over at you, taking notice that your eyes were set on staring out of the window and not at anything that reminded you of him. His heart panged. It was all his fault and he just wanted to make everything okay again.

"What was he like?" Harry asked curiously.

"Your father was-"

The boy cut Remus off, "No, not my dad... Black. Sirius Black. What was he like before he went dark?"

It was you who answered. Remus was rather shocked by the question, unable to answer or even comprehend an answer, "Harry, I don't want to upset you or make you feel a certain type of way because when we were at Hogwarts, Sirius and your father were the absolute best of friends. I think hearing the good things about Sirius might upset you more than you realise."

Harry frowned, "I just..." He shook his head, "I don't understand how his supposed best friend could betray them, it just doesn't make sense to me."

"Nor us," Remus agreed softly, "Believe me, Harry, I've gone over it again and again in my head. I've thought of our seven years at Hogwarts searching for the slightest glimmer of darkness but... I've never found any."

Harry looked to you, hopeful that you could give him something but you shook your head, "For twelve years, Harry, I've been trying to figure it out."

Harry thought for a moment before sighing, "Well, what was he like anyway?" You asked if he was sure to which he nodded.

"He was the thing that kept us all together, I think. From the word 'go' him and James were the best of friends, thick as thieves. If there was trouble, oh you just knew it started with James and Sirius and ended with me and Remus cleaning up the pieces with Peter running behind us." Remus smiled slightly at your words, "I am so sorry that I can't give you the answer as to why he turned bad, Harry."

"Do you hate him?" Harry asked all of a sudden, "I hate him. I hate him for how he betrayed them. And all the while being my godfather!"

Your eyes widened, "Who told you that?"

Remus frowned at the boy who realised that he'd said too much and slunk back into his seat, "I overheard Professor McGonagall and Fudge talking about it." Harry admitted, "It's true then?"

Remus nodded, "Yes... Sirius Black is your godfather, Harry, and that's why Dementors are here and why Dumbledore's inflicted a strict curfew. They think Black's back to kill you, finish the Potter bloodline once and for all."

He repeated the question, eyes boring into yours for some reason, "Professor (y/n), do you hate him?"

Your stomach flipped uncomfortably. This was something you'd wrestled with for years, "I love the version of Sirius that I knew. The boy who could always make me laugh, who was fiercely protective of his friends - he hexed the first boy who broke my heart you know - the boy who would pull me up to dance around the Common Room. He was brilliant. I love those memories I have of him... But the Sirius Black that I knew would never do what he did to James, Lily, Peter and yourself. That's... That's not my Sirius Black. I don't know what happened to my - our Sirius," you gave Remus a look, "but I hate what he became. I hate that he did that to his best friends. I hate him for what he did, yes."

Harry seemed satisfied with your answer, "Can I hang onto this for a while?" He asked, referring to the photo album, "I don't have many photos or anything of them and it would be-"

"Of course," you said with a soft smile, "I heard what happened at your Quidditch match on Saturday, how are you feeling?" You hadn't attended the match but it was the talk of the school. There had been a Dementor on the Quidditch pitch and it had caused Harry to fall from his broom. Dumbledore had made sure he landed safely but it didn't mean he was completely unhurt.

Harry nodded, "I'm alright. I just... I don't know why Dementors affect me so much. I wish there was a way to stop them."

Remus opened his mouth and you looked to him with a smile, "Well, Harry, there is a spell that casts them away," Remus said softly, "and I would be more than happy to teach you it."

Harry beamed, "Really?"

"He's the best teacher for it," you said to Harry with a warm smile.

"It's not the easiest of spells to conjure so it will take a lot of practice." Harry agreed eagerly with everything Remus was telling him, "And I think it best to not tell anyone about learning it, you know how people can be, I think we keep it between us." Again, Harry nodded, "Why don't you come to my office tomorrow after your last class before dinner, we can practice then?"

"Thank you, Professor."

Harry asked a few more questions about parents, things that no one else would be able to tell him. What was my dad's favourite subject? Did my mum get good grades? What was the wedding like? Was my dad good at Quidditch? What did they want to work as? And after another twenty minutes, you bid goodnight to Harry who scampered off clutching the photo album with everything he had.

Remus hovered in your office as you washed the teacups in the kitchen next door. He noticed you had another photo album laying on the table. Curiously, he picked it up and started to flick through it. It was photos of your life after Hogwarts, after James and Lily's deaths, after Peter's death and Sirius's imprisonment... after him. There were various faces, none of which he knew or recognised, but he with every turn of the page his curiosity only grew larger. Photos of you posing at monuments, photos of you laughing with a dark haired woman and blonde woman, photos of you drinking Firewhisky and then he stopped turning when he hit the next section, photos of you with a dark haired very handsome man. There were lots of photos of you and him. Photos where he smiled at you, eyes full of love, photos of you laughing with him, head thrown back as you grinned at the sky, photos of the two of you dancing in the moonlight... a photo of you kissing him and pulling away to grin at the camera. It hurt him knowing how much of a good life you had that he wasn't a part of. He didn't know why it hurt so much to see you happy, to see you living; to see you in love. But my god, it felt like his insides were being torn out through his chest. He hadn't been a part of your life for so long and it hurt knowing that. It hurt knowing that for a decade, you had moved on. You had loved.

You walked through from the kitchen and back to your office where you saw him, photo album in his hands. You raised your eyebrows, surprised that he was going through it but not upset or annoyed. You walked over, seeing the photos he was on, "That was from a rather... odd time in my life."

Remus looked up slightly startled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You shook your head, sitting on the edge of the desk beside him, "That's Ren," you said, pointing at the man who you had seemed so happy with, "I met him through..." you flipped a few pages back and pointed at the dark haired girl in your photos, "Rei. I met her about two years after we lost contact. I had gone travelling around the world to try and force myself to forget about James and Lily. I met Rei and Grace the other girl in the photo. The three of us travelled together for a few months and then Ren joined us, he's Rei's twin brother. They were all Muggles, never knew anything about wizards or magic and I never told them."

Remus's jaw clenched. Somehow knowing his name, personifying him made him feel so much worse.

"Our relationship developed really quickly. He was going back home in two months so the two of us wanted to experience as much as we could together. It all happened very quickly, very heavy... He asked me to come back home with him, move with him, told me that he loved me, he wanted to marry me."

"And- And you didn't want to?"

You shook your head, "I was running from my past. I was caught up in this dream. When he told me that he loved me, the illusion shattered." Remus asked what you meant, "For two years, I jumped from thing to thing to distract myself from the loss of our friends and that's what I'd been doing. Travelling with barely any money, taking up odd jobs here and there to make enough to get me to a new city, making random friends and travelling with them for a while. When I met Ren, he was... fun. He was safe, you know? He made me feel good about myself but... I was using him to forget about everything else in my life. I had lied about everything, who I was, where I came from, what I did for a living... The only true thing I told him was my name. The next day, I came home. Moved back in with my parents. Got a job in a pub and tried to heal."

Remus's face softened.

"It took a while for me to save up enough to move out. I worked in the pub and did tutoring for all sorts of instruments on the side. Took years for me to have a decent night's sleep without dreaming about Sirius, James and Lily..." You plucked another photo album from your desk, "This album was the subsequent years until now." You flicked through it, "I tried to focus on finding joy again." You pointed to a picture, "Bought a shop, turned it into a music shop. Tutoring on the side still, offerings lessons in-shop as well."

Remus was fascinated. He wasn't jealous or angry now knowing the real story of what happened with Ren, now he was just curious.

"Built that up. Still have it, I have someone running it for me just now whilst I'm here. When I saw the advertisement for a Muggle Music teacher here... I jumped at the chance. I'm sure you did the same. I had removed myself from the Wizarding World pretty much because again it was all too painful but when I saw the job come back, I thought that coming back would be the final step in my healing journey."

"And has it been?"

You frowned, taking the two photo albums and tucking them away, "I don't think the healing process is ever truly done. Seeing you again, being back in Hogwarts with you again... it's done a lot of good for me, honestly but that doesn't mean it's been easy. Healing isn't linear... might not ever be done healing."

"Do you regret coming back?"

You shook your head, "Not at all. I reconnected with my best friend and I get to spend time with James's son... Absolutely no regrets."

Remus felt rather ashamed that he'd gotten so jealous over looking at your photos with a former lover. It hurt him in ways it shouldn't because you were here, you'd been offering him the chance of happiness and he had rejected you multiple times so truly, he had no right to be jealous over it.

"I..." He frowned, unsure where to start, "After James and Lily, I pulled away from you when I should've clung to you. I was scared, honestly. Scared of losing the last person I loved... I tried to slot into the Muggle world too but it wasn't too kind to me. I couldn't keep steady employment when you know of my condition. After a few months of me steadily phoning in sick for a week at a time every four weeks, I usually ended up being sacked. I barely had enough money for my rent and for food so I had no chance of making Wolfsbane to aid me... My mother had passed but I didn't dare go back home to my father despite how happy he was to see me. I couldn't endanger him so my only choice was to take odd jobs. Jobs that were far below my level of skill and expertise but I had to."

He clicked his tongue, "Sometimes I'd pop into Diagon Alley and would find some Wizards who needed help clearing out a Boggart or things like that so would do that but most of the time it was jobs like cleaning a pub, helping out at a farm, deliveries... Mostly that sort of thing... I had seen the Defence post being advertised each year and it was Dumbledore himself actually who sought me out this year. He convinced me to come... There were a lot of times where I hadn't enough money for the basic necessities. I still don't, as you can see by my clothes and belongings. Everything I own is second hand and in tatters." He felt ashamed again. Shame burned hot on his face and in the pit of his stomach. Poor, penniless Remus his mind taunted, "In twelve years, you seem to have accomplished a lot and I have accomplished very little." Remus continued, "That's part of the reason I cannot be with you. Aside from being a werewolf, I have nothing to my name. I'm poor and I can't give you the life you deserve... that and I could maul you at any full moon." The last part was said with some form of bitter humour.

Your heart ached for him, "Just because you have less that a person does not mean that you are less than them," you reminded him gently, taking his cold hand and grasping it tightly in your own, "Penniless or not, Rem, that's not why I care the way I do about you." For a moment, hope surged inside him warming the coldest cockles of his heart but quickly, he extinguished that hope, sliding his hand from yours. You tried not to let the action hurt you or - at the very lease - try not make it obvious that it did.

The two of you had experienced completely different experiences in the last twelve years. One had gone off, making a better life for themselves and in some respects had been rather successful and the other had suffered, barely skimming by. Yet neither of you were entirely different people. Yes, Remus's face was tired with more lines and a weary look in his eye. He wasn't as brave as he once was, he was isolated but you knew that your Remus was still in there, you would often catch glimpses of him every so often. You were just as outspoken as you once were though you were angrier, less happy. Remus noticed that when you concentrated on something you always frowned whereas before your eyebrows would raise in wonder. Different but not completely. Partly a stranger, partly familiar. It was a weird sort of limbo the two of you were caught in.

Remus swallowed and cleared his throat after a few minutes of silence, "I should go." You let him go and once he was gone, you found yourself closing your eyes, fingertips dancing over your other palm as you tried your hardest to retain the details of how his hand felt in yours.

Remus stood outside your classroom, heart beating like a drum. Remus had always been a very level-headed person, always listening to his head and never to his heart but tonight was different. His mind whirred with ideas, questions, thoughts and fantasies that he couldn't stamp down. The light tendrils of hope that he had thought he extinguished reached out wrapping themselves around his heart and squeezing until it was almost all covered. His head fell back against the door of your classroom as he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to fight his own compulsion.

"Bugger it to all Hell."

And then in not Remus Lupin fashion, he threw open your classroom door and marched towards your office with determined stomps. He didn't hesitate.

"You hesitate, Moony," James said with a shake of the head, "Every time there's an opportunity to tell Ghost, you hesitate!"

"What's wrong with hesitating?"

"You hesitate and it means you think and your brain is its own worst enemy! Don't hesitate, don't think... just do."

Remus opened your office door and found you were still perched on the edge of the desk, staring intently down at your hands with an unreadable expression. It took until Remus was halfway to you to realise that he was there.

"Rem?" You asked confused as you looked up at him, "What are you-"

Just do.

His hands, steady and warm, planted themselves on your cheeks and you barely had time to register the fact he was holding your face when he was kissing you. It was a bold, brave kiss and fireworks seemed to explode in your stomach. He was here. Your Remus. You melded into his touch, hands finding themselves clasping his shirt, you could feel his chest beneath it, feel his heart beating wildly under your fingers. The kiss was deep and passionate and Remus's body moved into yours, his leg between yours but the need for air was too great and all too soon, Remus had detached his lips from yours leaving you both breathless and rather flushed. His forehead fell to yours, pressing against it gently as you panted and then he pulled away slightly. His pupils were dilated and his skin had a rather healthy rosiness to it.

He opened his mouth and then he... hesitated and he began to think, "Goodnight, (y/n)," he whispered, breath fanning over your face before he completely pulled himself away from you leaving your office and your classroom rather hurriedly. You stayed staring at the place where his face had been, happy and rosy, as your fingers moved to your lips feeling the ghost of his on yours as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Remus's face burned scarlet the whole walk two floors down to his classroom and when he got there, he cast the locking charm so that no one could bother him. He went straight to his office and through to the adjoining bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed, hands over his face as he tried to calm his drumming heart.

It took a long time for you to wrap your head around the events of the last few minutes with Remus. Yes, you had kissed him the previous week but this was different. This was Remus kissing you. This was Remus finally allowing himself to feel for you, letting his heart take over for a change. This was entirely different. Your hands shook with excitement as you got dressed for bed and when you finally settled beneath the duvet, your mind reeled with questions of what would be.

Remus stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, as his mind berated him over and over. He felt stupid. He felt silly for letting his heart take over. With a loud groan, he stood up, dressing back into his outdoor clothes. A walk, he decided firmly, a walk to calm the nerves. Memories of ghosts past continued to creep up on him.

"Moony, you seriously have got to stop thinking!" Sirius hissed to him as he joined the two boys by the fireplace in the Common Room, "You just have to tell her how you feel."

"What if she doesn't feel the same?" Remus asked with a pointed look to James who threw himself back dramatically with his arms in the air in an exasperated show, "I'm-"

"I'll hex you if the next word to leave your mouth is 'dangerous' or 'a monster'," James snarled before his face softened, "Moony, we know for a fact she likes you."

"(y/n)'s bloody told us before you dolt!" Sirius scowled, "You're a Gryffindor, Moony, use some of that lion courage and tell her."

Remus's mind was made up and he slunk into the red armchair, "But I'm not a lion, am I? I'm a wolf."

His two best friends exchanged tired looks, "But if you never tell her, if you never take the chance... Will you ever be truly happy?" It was James who spoke, "Will she ever be truly happy if the boy she adores never makes a move?"

"No, I suppose you're right," Remus said softly, "but... she'd be safe."

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