their friendship!! the tears are real

People didn’t care about how shit Tatsuki was treated in the manga until they realised they couldn’t pawn Orihime off to be paired of with Uryuu/Ulquiorra.

All of a sudden they sprout crocodile tears about how she was underutilized while blaming Orihime for ignoring her.

If you are going to be so blatant with pairing butthurt please refrain yourself from behaving like this line of ‘critical analysis’ is a feminist act when its pure bitterness from not getting the headcanons you want becoming canon.

Don’t treat Tatsuki and Orihime’s friendship as a tool to bash a female character when your interests and motivations are so shallow and based on nothing relating to real interest of a character.

Furthermore, dressing it up as 'feminist insights’ is completely disingenuous as its all a show to mask your anger about a fanon pairing not happening.

Which is worse when you didn’t value any female friendships in the manga in the first place.

TD:DR: Arisawa Tatsuki is not a stick you can hit Orihime with just because you are butthurt over pairings

Okay, so I know Matt coming into the team and being super talented is good for the Langst, but what if it was good for the Langst?

 Lance has another of his insecure jealousy laden rants at Matt, and Matt, who has interacted with humans as a normal person, not a cryptid hunting knife boy recognizes what is happening.  So he just very calmly asks why he thinks the team is looking for a replacement. Not in a smug way, but as a genuine ‘what makes you think that’ way. 

And Lance spills his insecurities about not having a thing while they’re all amazing at something, and just being a tag along no really likes or needs. 

Which leads to Matt countering that Katie thinks he’s a very welcoming, fun person who helped her buy a silly console to feel better, and stood up for her in the garrison despite her self-inflicted distance. 

That Hunk proudly calls Lance his best friend, savior of an oceanic world, his best and most-reliable taste tester, and confidant. 

He especially talks of how highly Shiro praised his skills as a shooter, and how selfless, and dedicated Lance could be. 

Of the stories, he’d heard of the charismatic blue paladin of Voltron, who helped lighten the atmospheres of newly saved planets. 

Matt sheepishly admitting that Keith’s a little hard to talk to, but at the very least he’s never seen someone put so much effort into a friendship they felt they weren’t getting anything from. Because Keith is real bad at socializing, but he sure seems to try with, and for the team. Lance in particular. 

He also points out that he’s only known Lance for a short time, but he sees the good points in him that he’s heard of quite clearly, even if Lance can’t. And that no one can replace anyone because we’re all us, and no one else. 

Lance is probably crying a little (or a lot) by now, but Matt knows they’re not sad tears, and even through Lance’s denials assures him he’ll believe it someday. 

The next day Matt tells Shiro they need to Talk, and Shiro has never so much wished for death than in that moment with Matt Gunderson giving him a stern look, and the knowledge of an oncoming lecture. No one even tries to save him.

The lecture is on the emotional well-being of his team, and how none of them should be breaking down in terrified jealousy because they think they’re nothing. 

…love between friends isn’t all games and giggles. It means I want to see the best in you, and I hope you have the outspoken audacity to see the best in me. Real friends speak with tears in their eyes, voice shaking, heart breaking, a quiet courage to say ‘You’re better than this.’
—  jspark3000 // What The Church Won’t Talk About
hey YOU

YES, YOU
DO YOU LIKE FRIENDSHIP?
DO YOU LIKE BROMANCE?
WELL COME ON DOWN TO LOVELY, GORGEOUS, SCENIC
HUNTER X HUNTER 2011 !!!!!!!!
WE’VE GOT LOTS OF IT, FAM!!!
THE BROMANCE IS REAL!
YOU WILL CRY YOUR EYES OUT!
THERE’S CUTE BOYS WHO ARE BEST FRIENDS—
and then there’s hisoka

..
.
anyWAYS COME ON DOWN—

  • friend: you're the Suriel to my Feyre bro
  • me: *tears flowing down, flowers surrounding us* bro

wjishing-jimin  asked:

hii can i request the number thingy?49 and 63 with jimin🙈angsty and fluffy in the end ty💕

Prompt request: “We’re just friends.” + “I thought you loved her.”

Pairing: Jimin/Reader

Genre: Angst + Eventual Fluff

Summary: Although Jimin’s been your friend for ages, there’s something, or someone, he’s been hiding from you. You’re not sure what hurts the most–Jimin’s lies or the truth.

Word count: 1.7k words


“Drinks for the cute couple?” the barista smiled down at you, holding up a tray carrying two drinks. The girl was probably not much older than you and Jimin.

“We’re just friends,” Jimin laughed, glancing up briefly from his phone as the barista set the drinks in front of you. “But thanks.”

You and Jimin sat on the patio of a small café, basking in the warm rays of the summer sun. Slowly, you began to nurse your iced coffee, the condensation from the glass dripping onto your hands. Jimin sat in front of you, iced cappuccino on the table, untouched, while he texted on his phone.

Jimin had been on his phone since you had arrived at the café, a huge smile on his face as he stared at the screen. You stared at him while you drank, and he noticed nothing.

You and Jimin had been good friends for several years, ever since you met during freshman year of high school. Your friendship was strong, and hardly anything came between you two.

But you did have your secrets.

Something you intended to hide from Jimin indefinitely was the fact that you were in love with him–you had been for years now. He was an overwhelmingly kind and considerate person, and you were one of the lucky few that got to experience his affection, both emotional and physical. But there were boundaries in your friendship, and you didn’t want to ruin the fragile balance you had worked so hard to create.

Jimin had hidden something from you for years, too. Ever since you met Jimin, he would disappear onto his phone. He was always texting somebody, grinning softly as he did so. In the earlier years of your friendship, you had asked him who he was always talking to. Jimin never failed to avoid the question, and in the years you had known him, you never even learned the name of the person who constantly occupied Jimin’s thoughts.

“Jimin,” you called softly, unable to hide the frustration seeping into your voice, “if you’re going to be on your phone the entire time, why’d you ask me to hang out?”

“Sorry, Y/N,” Jimin said, not sounding very apologetic. He glanced up at you and offered you a small smile, which was nothing compared to the grin he wore when he texted. “It’s just something important. I’ll put my phone away soon.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the irrational pang of jealousy you felt. Jimin had always treated you well, and you were in no position to demand more from him.

After a few more minutes of silence, save for the sound of Jimin’s fingers tapping away, he finally set his phone onto the table and turned his attention to you. Jimin grabbed his drink and sipped loudly.

“So me and the guys were thinking about going to the cottage for the weekend,” Jimin began, speaking around his straw. “Do you have any weekends off? Or can you schedule any time off?”

“I can always get someone to cover my Saturday shift,” you thought aloud, staring into what remained of your drink. “I don’t work on–”

Jimin’s ringtone blared, cutting you off mid-sentence. Jimin jumped, surprised, and checked the display of his phone.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” Jimin said, standing up. “I’ll just be a minute, I promise.”

You glanced away from him, but Jimin didn’t wait for your answer. He walked to an emptier section of the patio, his tone bright as he spoke. The bright sound of his laughter drifted through he air, but it only made you sadder.

A storm of negative emotions bombarded you–you felt jealous, insecure, and worthless. You were more upset at yourself than at Jimin. He could keep whatever secrets he wanted from you. It was your fault for falling in love with him, and that’s why everything he did made you hurt so much.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, in part because of your pathetic crush. And also because whoever Jimin was talking to would always be more important than you.

Quietly, you stood up. Jimin had his back facing you, chattering excitedly away on the phone. He was far enough away that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, which, you supposed, was the point.

With a heavy heart, you turned away and walked home.


That evening, you had a midnight shift at the department store you worked at. As the seconds slowly ticked by, you felt tiredness seeping into our bones. You kept your mind blank as you paced behind the cash register. The story was completely empty, and there was little to do that would entertain you.

Absentmindedly, you hummed along to the song playing softly on the radio. The final minutes of your shift finally came to an end, and the next cashier arrived to relieve you.

You offered the older woman a smile and a brief greeting, which she returned just as unenthusiastically. The employee room was located in the back of the store. You rushed into the room, quickly changing out of your uniform. Even though it was summer, the night air was cold. You slipped on a light sweater.

There was a back exit to the building that connected with the employee room. You pushed open the heavy door and let it shut behind you. You pulled your hood over your head, dreading the long journey home–you hated walking alone at night–and began walking.

“Y/N,” a voice called out in the darkness.

You squeaked, heart skipping a beat, and spun on your heel to locate the source of the voice.

Jimin stood behind you, not properly dressed for the cold night. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his shorts, and he kicked at the ground with his sneakers.

“Let me walk you home,” Jimin said, catching up to you but refusing to meet your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you replied quietly, hating that your voice sounded so uncertain.

“We need to talk, anyway,” Jimin insisted, staring in front of him resolutely. That is exactly what you were dreading.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” you sighed, pressing the palms of your hands against your tired eyes. “I overreacted and that was my fault. I’m sorry I left without saying anything.”

“No, I’m sorry, too,” Jimin said with a sad laugh. He grabbed your arm and forced you to stop walking. He pulled your hands away from your face. “It was rude of me to ignore you like that. I know I take you–wait, Y/N, are you crying!?”

You lifted your hands to your face in surprise. Indeed, your cheeks were stained with warm tears. Blushing, you wiped them away furiously, but your eyes wouldn’t stop watering.

“I’m fine,” you answered in a steady voice that did not match your tears. “I don’t know why I’m crying, but don’t worry.”

“Y/N, please,” Jimin begged, grabbing your hands once again. “Please, just talk to me. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, and I’m even making you cry now. I don’t want us to be like this anymore.”

“Trust me, Jimin,” you laughed bitterly, “it’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just overthinking things like always, okay?”

“Can you just tell me what you’re thinking?”

You sighed, and a heavy silence fell between the two of you. In the cold, quiet night, Jimin was warm and bright, staring at you with worry and affection. Taking a deep breath, you figured that, for once, you may as well tell him the truth.

“I just feel like shit sometimes,” you admitted, looking away from Jimin’s unwavering gaze. “You’re my best friend–my only close friend, if I’m being honest. I just don’t feel like I’m as important to you as you are to me.”

Jimin pulled you into a tight hug, the breath rushing out of you as you collided with his chest. “That’s not true!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. You’re so important to me.”

You began to cry for real this time, sobs raking through your body. You pulled away from Jimin’s embrace to wipe your tears away. “You never seem happy with me,” you continued shakily. “At least compared to when you’re on your phone. I know you have other friends, Jimin. But we’ve been friends for so long, and you still won’t tell me who she is.”

“Y/N, I can’t tell you who she is,” Jimin sighed, turning to look away from you. “It’s not my choice–I’d tell you if I could. She’s a childhood friend, and our friendship is really important to me, too.”

“Yeah, I got that,” you snorted.

“I don’t know why that’s upsetting you,” Jimin cried, pulling at his hair in frustration. You jumped in surprise at Jimin’s sudden outburst. “She’s one of my oldest friends. I know it’s wrong for me to ignore you when I’m talking to her, but I don’t know why you’re acting so jealous.”

You flinched at Jimin’s choice of words. “It’s because I am,” you whispered, beginning to walk away. “I’m sorry.”

As you hurried down the dark alleyway, Jimin caught up to you and pulled to to a stop again. He turned you around so you were looking him in the eye. “Do you mean it?”

You nodded wordlessly, averting your gaze. In your chest, your heart was thundering wildly. Mostly, you were fearful, but a small part of you held onto the hope that maybe Jimin would return your feelings. “I thought you loved her,” you mumbled.

“Would that matter to you?” Jimin asked, peering into your eyes as if they held the answers. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

“Yes, okay!?” you exclaimed, hiding your face in your hands. “It would. I like you Jimin, and I have for so long.”

“Do you mean it?” Jimin asked after a few moments passed, his voice serious. You peeked up at him through the gaps in your fingers. His face was carefully blank, but you could see him gnawing at his bottom lip. “You really like me?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly Jimin laughed, and your hands dropped in shock. He had the brightest smile you had seen on his face in a long time. His eyes turned into tiny crescents as he beamed at you.

“Good, because I like you, too.”

- Girl in Luv

Thanks so much for the request! Sorry it took so long to get to. Hope you enjoyed~

Sherlock HLV-S4 (aka EMP) vs House M.D.

First of all, it’s worth mentioning that House MD was inspired by ACD stories therefore it wouldn’t be odd for Mofftiss to take inspiration from the series. Also, it’s the only modern Sherlock series except for their own.

Gregory House - Sherlock Holmes, James Wilson - John Watson, Amber (aka Wilson’s dead gf) - Mary (aka Watson’s dead wife). 

Ok let’s start with S4E15 ‘’House’s head’’

Summary: House has a short disjointed vision and presumes that “somebody’s going to die”. Back at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, House is diagnosed with a concussion and post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Chase performs a medical hypnosis on House to stimulate his memory. While the team investigates several pathologies to fit the bus driver’s condition, House overdoses on his Vicodin and starts to hallucinate. In a renewed attempt to retrieve his memory, House has his team reenact the bus crash. House overdoses on physostigmine, a medication against Alzheimer’s disease, and his mind flashes back to the bus scene before the accident. “The answer” reminds House that since he values reason above everything else, there must be one for her presence in his mind. She keeps asking House what her necklace is made from, until House realizes that it’s made of amber. “The answer” transforms into Amber Volakis, and when Wilson and Cuddy manage to resuscitate House from his overdose-induced cardiac arrest, House immediately informs Wilson that Amber’s life is in danger as he now remembers the crash.

This one is going to be pretty messy because this episode parallels HLV, TAB, and T6T. The most important thing is that Sherlock/House overdoses to solve a case in his mind, turns out it has to do with James’/John’s wife.


S4E16  “Wilson’s Heart

Summary/highlights:  In an attempt to remember exactly what he saw that caused his initial concern and help definitively diagnosis her (Amber), House decides to undergo deep brain stimulation with Wilson’s urging. The crash caused such extensive anatomical and physiological trauma to Amber that she ended up suffering acute renal failure. This damage to her kidneys made them unable to adequately filter out the amantadine, causing her to overdose, and thus causing all her unexplained symptoms. Wilson suggests dialysis as a treatment, however House tells him during the memory of the moments leading up to the bus crash that when unfiltered, amantadine binds to proteins in the kidneys, and therefore dialysis is unable to clear it from the blood, and ultimately there is no treatment for Amber. House and Wilson begin to cry, and House goes into a seizure while still connected to the Deep Brain Stimulation equipment. The seizure causes the equipment to shift, thus causing House’s brain to bleed, leading to him falling into a coma. An unconscious House has a vision of Amber who persuades him not to give up on life and die, telling him that he “can’t always get what he wants”. Wilson returns home and finds the note Amber left him in their bedroom saying she went to pick up House and would return home soon, causing him to breakdown in tears.


S5E01  “Dying Changes Everything

Highlights:  House then enters Wilson’s office and offers an apology in a final attempt to make him stay. Wilson tells House that he does not blame him for Amber’s death, as much as he wanted to, and tried hard to. However, when House starts to assume that everything is fine, Wilson tells House that Amber was never the real reason why he was leaving. Wilson says that he has realized that House is rude and malicious to everybody he knows, including him, and throughout their entire friendship, he’s been enabling his behavior. Wilson claims that as long as the two remain friends, he will always continue this negative atmosphere. He then begins to say that he should have been on the bus that crashed, but then pauses and says that House should have been on it alone. “We’re not friends any more, House; I’m not sure we ever were,” Wilson says as he leaves his office and leaves House in the room alone.

(cont. Wilson: I don’t blame you. I wanted to-)


S5E23  “Under My Skin

Summary: […] House must solve this daunting puzzle, even while going to extreme measures to rid himself of his continuing hallucinations of Amber.  House confides in Wilson about his problem, and they create a list of potential diagnoses, ranging from MS to schizophrenia. While House tests for and eliminates diagnosis after diagnosis, Wilson consults on House’s case, serving as a monitor to make sure House does nothing that goes beyond “House-radical” to “House-out-of-his-head-radical”. Meanwhile, House eliminates all possible diagnoses but severe mental illness and Vicodin addiction—both prognoses bleak, as House would be unable to practice medicine if taking anti-psychotics, or if in continuous pain after detox. In desperation, House gives himself insulin shock as an alternative to anti-psych drugs or ECT. After recovering from the insulin-induced coma, House finds himself free of his hallucination and eagerly returns to the diagnosis of his patient. Returning to the case, House finds Penelope’s boyfriend’s devotion suspicious, and believing it to be guilt-induced, tells his team to test him for gonorrhea. The test returns positive, but it becomes evident that the boyfriend was shocked by this, and that Penelope had been cheating on him, not the other way around. As House realizes that he reached the correct conclusion by accident rather than through accurate observation, he once again starts to have hallucinations of Amber.This leaves House’s Vicodin addiction as the final diagnosis for his hallucinations. Rather than go to a clinic or check into the hospital under a pseudonym, House reveals his situation to Cuddy and asks her to personally help him. Cuddy spends the night at House’s home, destroying any caches of Vicodin and monitoring him as he detoxes, with Amber eventually disappearing. The episode ends with House and Cuddy kissing passionately and disrobing.


S5E24  “Both Sides Now

I’d rec reading the summary, i know it’s long but it’ll make you realise how similar to TLD the ep is. And if i’d have to rec you one episode of house to watch from this list, it’d be this one. 

Summary:  House wakes up at his apartment after spending the night with Cuddy. He discovers that she has left her lipstick on his bathroom counter, as well as on his cheek. House pockets the lipstick, and goes to work in a cheerful mood and a remarkable lack of pain.  Meanwhile, Cuddy tells House that their relationship must be that of employer and employee. House tells Wilson that he kicked his drug habit and had sex with Cuddy; Wilson advises that he talk to her, advice which House ignores. Instead he begins a campaign to annoy and provoke her, an attempt to break through her composure. In a final attempt to provoke Cuddy into examining her true feelings for him, House announces to everyone in the main lobby of the hospital that he had sexual relations with Cuddy. Cuddy responds by confronting him in a hallway, and then firing him after he suggests that they move in together. Cuddy storms off but before House can do anything else. House then goes to talk to Cuddy in her office, and asks her if she could possibly be overreacting to the previous night. She finally admits that maybe she is, since he’s “said plenty of lousy things to [her] before.” House seems confused, as he assumed that she was overreacting to her and House having sex and what it could mean to their employer-employee relationship.  But he realizes that Cuddy’s reactions all day have been consistent, and in fact it is his own memory of the situation that is faulty. He turns his attention to the lipstick Cuddy let at his apartment, which he has been playing with all day, and is troubled that Cuddy’s coffee cup shows no lipstick smears; his memory of the prior evening included smears of lipstick on his face from kissing Cuddy, so he expects her lipstick is the sort that smears. He asks Cuddy whether she has another type of lipstick, one with a “sealing agent”, that might explain the discrepancy between his memory of the smeared kiss and the reality that now confronts him of the unsmeared coffee cup. House then has a flashback to the night (from the episode “Under My Skin”) before when he thought he told Cuddy that he needed her help with his addiction. He suddenly sees the reality of what has happened: he never told Cuddy he was having hallucinations that night. His final words of the evening were: “you can go suckle the little bastard child if that makes you feel good about yourself.” Upset by this remark, she left the office and went home, never accompanying him to his apartment.House snaps back to reality and tries to explain to Cuddy that that’s not what actually happened, saying “I told you I needed you, and you helped me.” He reaches into his pocket to remove the lipstick, but, to his shock, he discovers that it is actually a bottle of Oxycodone which states ‘not to exceed’. He drops the bottle on the floor and gingerly backs away from it. Cuddy, now realizing House is not joking, rushes to him and asks if he is okay. He doesn’t respond, but then has another flashback, and realizes what happened. The whole previous night was a complete hallucination, beginning from him telling Cuddy that he needed her to help him detox and her accompanying him home. His memory of Cuddy staying by his side at his apartment was not real, and, in fact, he spent the night popping pills by himself. Hallucinations of Amber and Kutner then appear and tell House that while the story he invented about himself is nice, it’s not true. House finally looks at Cuddy and is able to fearfully tell her that he is not okay.


S6E2  “Broken

Highlights:  House awakens in the Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital after suffering through the painful effects of Vicodin withdrawal. Dr. Nolan tells House he cannot possibly treat someone so uncooperative. As Nolan leaves, however, House softly calls him back and says, “I need help.” He begins therapy with Nolan and House says, “I want to get better.” House apologizes to Steve, and as he wheels him away, Steve breaks his silence and gives the silent Annie the music box he was holding. For the first time, she speaks to say 'thank you’. Lydia arrives and House takes her in to see the group watching her sister-in-law playing “Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1” on the cello.

Ah, I’ve forgotten to add this. It’s from the beginning of season six. House finds out that Lisa didn’t break up with her bf. = Sherlock didn’t ‘’break up’’ with the woman. Parallels the 221B scene in TLD.

(House: they didnt break up. Wilson: and youre ok with that? House: it is what it is)

Lies || Jughead Jones

Prompt from anon: I’m here to take you out of your misery. Ok so, jugheadxreader to these words: “There’s already enough fake people in this town, I don’t need a fake friend like you”. You can come up with the context but it all ends up well. Can be romantic of platonic, however you want it. Thanks!

A/N: I hope you enjoy!!

Gif by @dailycwriverdale

—————

When you moved to Riverdale a month after Jason Blossom’s murder, you had no friends. It was half your fault if you were being honest. You didn’t introduce yourself to anyone at the town get togethers that your parents went to and when school began, you stayed away from everyone. You managed a shy wave here and there but other than that, you kept to yourself. Which is why you were so surprised when one day at Pop’s, a strange boy with a gray beanie sat in front of you and introduced himself to you as Jughead Jones the Third. Then he offered to buy you a milkshake.

Thus began your friendship.

The two of you had hung out almost everyday after that, talking about life, each other, and, of course, Jason Blossom’s murder. You had even began helping Jughead with his novel. It was four months after you had met him that everything fell apart.

“Hey, pull up the latest document while I get these papers.” Jughead said as he opened his book bag.

You nodded.

“Sure thing.” you said as you pulled your best friend’s laptop towards you.

The two of you were at Pop’s, your usual joint. On Saturdays, the two of you hung out here to work on Jughead’s novel. You loved hanging out with him. You felt like he was the only one in Riverdale who understood you. The two of you were both loners. You both didn’t feel like you fit in anywhere. But when you were with each other, you felt you could take on the world.

As you scrolled, a page title caught your interest.

Timeline and Progress? That one?” you asked as you clicked on it.

Jughead’s eyes widened.

“Y/N, wait, no!” he exclaimed, as he attempted to reach over the table and grab his laptop back.

But it was too late. Your eyes quickly scanned the page and your heart fell.

September 9: New girl in class today. Apparently she just moved here. Might know something about Jason Blossom.

September 14: Talked to new girl today. Doesn’t seem to know much about the murder. I’ll keep digging.

September 22: Her name’s Y/N. Kind of obnoxious but still could be useful for my novel. I’ll keep her around for a little longer and see if there’s anything interesting about her.

That was it. That was all that was on the page that had now just ripped you apart. You looked up at Jughead, heartbroken.

“Y-You used me.” you said accusingly.

“Y/N, I—” he began before stopping himself.

He closed his eyes and put his head down, confirming your suspicions. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“I can’t believe it.” you scoffed as you got up.

He opened his eyes and looked at you pleadingly.

“Y/N, please, just hear me out,” he said, standing up. “It’s not what you think.”

You let out a humorless laugh.

“”Hear you out,” huh?” you asked. “Jughead, I don’t think you understand. You used me. Pretended you were my friend to get information out of me. Do you know how messed up that is?”

Jughead was silent and you sighed.

There’s already enough fake people in this town, Jughead,” you said softly. “I don’t need a fake friend like you too.”

Jughead flinched at your words. Realizing he wasn’t going to say anything, you huffed and walked out the front door of Pop’s, the cold air hitting you smack in the face. You pulled your jacket around you as you walked through the parking lot, tears streaming down your face. You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear Jughead calling your name as he ran after you.

“Y/N, please!” he said as he gently held your arm. 

You quickly spun around to face him, tears streaming down his face.

“Why?” you sobbed.

Jughead’s heart broke at seeing you like this.

“Please… Just listen to what I have to say. If you don’t forgive me and you  decide to never talk to me again, fine. But just please listen to me for a minute.” he begged.

You were silent but you didn’t run away which Jughead took as a sign to continue.

“Yeah. I did use you in the beginning,” he began and you stifled a sob. “But, Y/N, I don’t anymore, I swear. It was for two weeks and then that was it.”

You let out another humorless laugh.

“It could’ve been for six seconds, Jughead, that’s not the point. The point is you used me. You lied to me. You made me think you really wanted to be my friend.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promise, our friendship is real. Did I originally intend for it to be? No. And for that, I’m sorry, I can’t say it enough. But, Y/N, I-I can promise you that after those two weeks, everything was real. Everything is still real. You’re my best friend. That’s not a lie.” he finished.

You were silent as you contemplated his words.

“Y/N,” Jughead stated.

You looked up at him and saw there were tears in his eyes.

“Please,” he begged, voice cracking. “I can’t lose you too.”

The “too” rattled around in your head and you wondered who else he had lost. You sighed.

“Jughead…” you said quietly.

The raven-haired teen held his breath.

“You get one last chance. That’s it. One.” you said.

Jughead let out a relieved breath.

“Thank you. Thank you, Y/N.” he said as he enveloped you in a bone crushing hug.

You were taken aback, knowing that Jughead didn’t like physical contact. You slowly hugged him back, basking in his warmth.

“Thank you.” he said again, softer this time.

For the record, he never lied again.

—————

A/N: Ah yes, angst and fluff. Just fuck me up. Hope you liked it! Send me feedback!!

Taglist

@gottalovetheapocalypse @lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @juggie-jones-iii @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @johnmurphys-sass @theselfishllama @katshrev @juggiesjuliet @betty-coopers-number-one-stan

The Start of Something New Chapter 4 (Jughead x Reader)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

In which Jughead realizes how “perfect” the Reader really is.

“Y/N! Wait!“ Jughead ran after (Y/N) as she retreated to the closet in the library where they stored the books damaged by a pipe bursting a few months ago. His hand caught the door as she was about to slam it in his face. Archie, Veronica, and Betty stood at a distance, not wanting to intrude but still wanting to express their support.

Glancing at the three somewhat-insensitive teens, (Y/N) hesitantly let Jughead into the closet and shut the door.

“My friends are assholes, and sometimes I am too,“ Jughead started. “I’m so sorry they said that stuff, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) couldn’t decide whether to look into Jughead’s foggy blue eyes to confront him, or look away because she knew it would break her. He would break her. She shook her head, eyes closed. “I knew it,“ (Y/N) said, voice cracking. “I knew our friendship wasn’t real.“

“What do you mean, (Y/N)?“ Jughead ran a hand through his hair under his beanie, exasperated.

“You can stop pretending,“ (Y/N) said. Tears threatened to spill over. “You can go back to your perfect life now!“

“My life is far from perfect and you know that!“ He said, his face heated. “I’m basically homeless, my dad is a drunk and a drug dealer, and I was almost arrested for murder!“ He turned away from her, unable to look at someone who could make such a naïve assumption.

He wheeled back on her. “If anything, you’re the perfect one.” His eyes were narrowed, voice passive aggressive. He was the old Jughead. “At least you have a family! And a house! And you’re pretty and nice and smart! You’re normal. You’re just like Betty!”

(Y/N) inhaled sharply and tears began to flow. Her fists were clenched and for the first time since he’d known her, (Y/N) raised her voice.

“I am nothing like Betty!“

Keep reading

Whenever I hear about another documentary or article bitching about how social media is destroying lives, and are we all just obsessive narcissists who want to be liked, and people online aren’t *real* friends, I want to make my own documentary.

It would be full of people talking about the first time they found other people like them, people they could really talk to and who understood. There would be so many clips of online friends meeting each other in person for the firsttime at airports and conventions, with all of the tears and laughter, and immediately hugging and talking like they’ve never been apart.

Online friendship is not screaming into the void waiting for someone to ‘like’ your post. It’s staying up until 3am talking over a messenger about books and movies, and music, or comforting your friend because they’re sad, and knowing they’d do the same for you. It’s group hugs at the train station when you finally get to meet in person and feeling like you’ve been doing this forever. It’s making art for someone because you want them to smile, even f they’ll never see it.

Online friendship is friendship, not some inferior form of it. And I am so sick of people who don’t get it being snide and trying to analyse it. 

Archie Andrews - I believe you

Fandom: Riverdale

Pairing: Archie Andrews x Reader

Words: 1308

Request: by @deepestdreamlandinternet 

May I request an Archie Andrews imagine we’re you both dislike each other for some reason but kiss or something like with Veronica and him the closet????

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, I had so much fun writing it. I really hope you enjoy it. This imagine corresponds more to the first part of your request but I do think I might make another one inspired by him and Veronica in the closet.

Originally posted by archiiandrews

First day of school and already I managed to bump into him. Him and I were… complicated. He was the classic jock type, well build, especially after this summer, star football player and music prodigy. And even though every girl drooled over him I did not feel that way for the least bit. Back in the day maybe, just maybe I might have considered looking at him that way. What really made me mad was that a few years ago I called him a friend. Since my parents were close with his, I spend practically my whole childhood around him, he was the closest thing I had to a brother and as we grew I guess my feelings started shifting. But then as we were about to enter the high school world he got offered a seat at the popular table. He tried to fit me in his new lifestyle but I guess it just wasn’t my scene so we started seeing each other less and less. But there was this one night, everything was going south in my life at that point and I really needed him to be there just this once for me, to have a shoulder to cry on… I guess I was out of luck since I waited and waited in front of Pop’s dinner for him to show, until I got tired of waiting and returned home to the comfort of my bed. It was that night that my hatred for Archie Andrews officially embedded itself in my heart.

So today, almost 3 years after Archie had ditched me at that diner I was doing great. I skipped town for the past two years and went to live with my dad in Cali but I decided I was finally ready to come back and face my past in Riverdale. What I hadn’t expected was to be facing it so soon. Just as I was walking down the hall towards my new assigned locker I heard a group of loud boys coming round the corner, I hadn’t even bothered looking up to see who it was until one of them bumped into me while they were talking about an upcoming game. I was just about to let out a snarky comment but he spoke first “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” When I heard the voice my face instantly drained of colour. Fortunately, I was still looking down trying to pick up my scattered books so he couldn’t actually see my face. I quickly glanced at him grabbing my last book right from his hands and walked as fast as you could to get away from him. I wasn’t really sure if he had recognised me. To be fair he wasn’t the only one who had experienced and sudden ‘glow up’. During my time away I managed to work a little on myself and my feminine assets had finally appeared. Plus I had gotten glasses that just made me look smart in the hottest way possible.

Thank God this day is over. I thought waking towards my locker, earphones in my ears after the end of my last lesson. The day wasn’t really that bad, I’ve already managed to get a couple of friends around here but seeing Archie this morning threw me off and I was just eager to go home. “I knew it” I heard over your music. I looked around and there he was, leaning against the lockers staring me down. “What do you want Archie?” I asked annoyed. “I knew it was you. I could recognise you anywhere.” he stated proud of himself. “Well, congratulations, that’s amazing that you managed to recognise the girl who used to be your best friend. Allow me to get you a trophy to add to your already big collection of hurting Y/N 101.”I spat out sarcastically. “Hey, why are you mad at me? You were the one who left town without even saying goodbye. What was I supposed to think?” he asked suddenly hurt. “Oh that’s rich coming from you…” I muttered angrily walking away as I felt the tears rolling down. Get yourself together. He doesn’t deserve your tears.

Few days later

I was walking home from the gym listening to my favourite playlist. Things had gotten back to normal, relatively speaking. I was doing good at Riverdale’s high, I had made real friendships and Archie hadn’t talked to me since that first day. I finally turned to my street and saw my house, and someone sitting on my porch. At first I didn’t recognise the man, but as I came closer I realised it was a desperate looking Archie. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I didn’t want anything to do with you Archie.” I sated firmly. “Y/N, I really don’t know what happened between us… I just… I wish I knew so I could fix it” He responded weakly. “There’s nothing to be fixed.” I was trying my hardest not to break. “You really hurt me when you left, d’you know that?” he said regaining confidence. “Good.” I simply said. “I can’t believe you! You come back after 3 years of no letters, no emails, no nothing and when I confront you about it all you have to say is ‘good’?!” he stared getting mad. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get into my home now.” I tried going around him to get inside but in vain. “Oh no, you are not going anywhere until you explain what the hell is wrong with you?” this let your bottled up rage free. “Excuse me?! What is wrong with me?!” I shot back pointing a finger to my chest to emphasise my point. He stared at me confused. “Oh you really don’t know do you?” I asked a little shocked. “Know what?” “Gosh Archie, are you really so full of yourself that you hadn’t even noticed that I desperately needed you?! You were my best friend! I was counting on you! You were supposed to be there the one damn time I needed you. Damn it Archie I freaking loved you I looked up to you! You made me feels things no one ever has and I was always there when you called! But the one time, the one time I was in a bad place and needed you, you left me standing there, in the rain for 5 hours waiting for my alleged best friend to show up. So yes I think I earned the right to be pissed don’t you?!” I was out of breath after that confession. We just stood there staring at each other for what felt like an eternity and then suddenly he grabbed my face in his hands and his lips came crashing onto mine. No one had ever kissed me like that, so passionately yet so sweetly. I was backed against the door forcefully, I couldn’t keep my hands off of him. 

Originally posted by lovershub

I couldn’t tell you the thousands things that raced through my mind during those few seconds but all I know is they all ended with him and me kissing on my porch. “I’m so incredibly sorry for what I’ve put you through Y/N… I had no idea… I got really drunk that night and when I finally came to my senses the first thing I did was looking for you, I went to your house but your mum had told you had left town for good. I love you, so much it hurts and when I thought I’d lost you I… well let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.” I just stared deeply in his eyes, unable to utter a single word, I kept searching for something to tell me was lying, that he didn’t deserve that second chance you were so compelled to give him but yet the only thing you managed to get out was “ I believe you”  before joining your lips again.

While I don’t blame people for being sceptical of Missy’s crying/trying to turn good (like, hell, the Doctor himself is still sceptical), people need to realise that it isn’t as sudden as it seems. 

Missy has been in that vault for more than fifty years. Fifty fucking years. 

Fifty years of only the Doctor and very occasionally maybe Nardole to talk to. Fifty years of the Doctor doing his best to teach her how to be good, to change how she thinks. That’s long enough to bring about change in anyone. 

Now, either she’s one hell of an actor and she’s playing a long game, or she’s actually trying, even if it might not work, to be good, because of how much she cares about preserving their friendship (Which makes sense! she spent series 8 trying to make him become like her, series 9 just keeping him alive, so series 10 being her trying to become like him actually fits really well!).

Both are just as plausible as the other. Point is, those tears might not be real, but it’s not sudden or unrealistic if they are. Because like, 50 years, man. 

August 9th, 1986

7 p.m.

Max sits crosslegged in the Wheeler’s basement, her chin resting atop the side table where the phone sits. Behind her, she can hear the sounds of a particularly intense campaign, shouting and teasing and fists banging on the surface of the table. 

And then Lucas is calling for her, telling her it’s her turn to roll. Max waves him off impatiently. It’s Saturday night and Steve always calls on Saturday nights. 

But the phone doesn’t ring. Max ignores it at first—that persistent voice in her head whispering all of the things that could be wrong. 

“They’re probably just busy,” Mike reasons, coming up behind her while the others break for a snack. Beside Mike, Will nods his agreement. Max smiles and shrugs, but she can see the uncertainty on both their faces. Steve’s phone calls also mean a chance to talk with Nancy and Jonathan. 


8 p.m.

A sullen silence hangs in the air. Mike cuts the campaign short and Lucas and Dustin go home. Max’s throat feels dry and no matter how much Coca-Cola she drinks, the scratchy feeling doesn’t go away. She fidgets as Mike and El tidy the pizza boxes and empty cans from the table, whispering to each other as they always do. Will takes a seat beside her on the couch. 

“They take care of each other,” he says quietly, “Like we do.” 


9 p.m.

Max can’t focus on the movie; The Breakfast Club. Steve took her to see it in theatres last year, but she doesn’t tell anyone. Instead, she sits with her head in the crook of El’s neck, trying to concentrate on the patterns El is drawing on her back with a comforting hand. 

“It’ll be okay,” El whispers in her ear eventually, shifting slightly. “Promise.” Max feels the pressure of a soft, reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and sinks in closer to El. There’s an unwavering quality to the way her friend speaks that gives Max some hope. 


10 p.m.

The phone rings, breaking the silence that had fallen over the basement as the friends laid out their sleeping bags. Mike leaps to answer it, the receiver pressed against his ear before the first ring has ended. He listens for a moment and then looks at Max and she thinks she can see relief on his face, but she doesn’t want to expect too much. 

“It’s for you,” Mike says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. With hands that she didn’t realize were shaking, Max takes the phone and puts it to her ear. 

“Hello?” Her voice is tentative, nervous. 

“Hey kiddo,” Steve’s voice sounds from the other end and Max’s shoulders relax. She feels the sting of tears in her eyes. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Our car broke down in the middle of nowhere.” 

Steve waits a moment, expecting an answer, though he hears nothing. “You there, Red? Don’t make me use your real name…Mackenzie.”

A beat of silence. And then a response at last.

“Shut up.” 

Dear Tyler

Hello you all. So I wrote this fic and it’s kind of different from anything else I’ve done. I hope you enjoy and feel free to request anything!

WARNINGS: mentions of depression and suicide

Dear Tyler,

Hey. You surely know me. I’m your best friend of course. I just wanted to write this. There are some things you need to know. Some things I want to tell you. I think it’s about time I tell you. Especially considering the circumstances.

I still remember the first day we met. Don’t you? It was the fourth day of seventh grade and I had just moved to Columbus that summer, so I had no friends. I was walking around outside when a basketball slammed into my head. I was ready to punch whoever had thrown the ball when a small, brown haired kid ran over, his jaw dropped. He had emphatically apologized which caused me to automatically forgive the boy. He then told me his name was Tyler and I told him my name. And that’s how we became friends.

I also remember my thirteenth birthday party. My parents were in their room, again, with the door shut. But even that door couldn’t block out the screaming and hatred illuminating from that room. This home had been void of love and happiness for years now. I sat in the corner of my room, hands ball up in fists as I cried my heart out. My parents had been too busy to even remember my birthday but now they had done this too. I then heard a small knock at my window and looked over at you. I opened my window and you jumped in, instantly suffocating me in a huge hug. You told me to come with you and we both hopped out the window. You led me to your house and when you opened the door, decorations were up and four presents along with cake sat on your kitchen table with your family cheering and smiling. That was the day your family accepted me in.

I also remember the first time we went to a party. We were 15 and it was some random girls party, the name I couldn’t even remember. I had been dragged into a game of spin the bottle and you sat across from me, wearing a sweater with dark jeans. Once it was my turn, I timidly reached for the bottle and spun it. After what seemed like years, it landed on you. You leaned over, whispered that we were best friends and it was okay, and softly kissed me on the lips. My stomach instantly filled with butterflies and my cheeks became red. That was my first kiss.

It was junior year and I was with my friend, Emma, as we sat at one of your basketball games. I kept my eyes on you, watching as you made your way to the court. Emma sighed and nudged me slightly. “When are you ever going to tell him?” is all she said but I knew exactly what she was talking about. I kept my eyes on you and felt those same butterflies from the first time we kissed, but 1000x bigger.

It was senior year when it happened. I had anxiety attacks before. I was bullied. But as one of the meanest boys at school had me huddled in a corner, talking about how “no boy would ever look in my direction” and that I was a “freak show with disastrous parents”, I felt tears run down my cheeks as my fists were balled up, just like my 13th birthday. Kids stood around watching, pointing, and laughing as hot tears ran down my cheeks and my breathing became shaky. Next thing I knew, a brunette boy punched the boy, muttering a simple “Fuck you.” as he walked towards me. I was in full blown anxiety mode as you leaned down, kissed my head, picked me up, and carried me right out of the school and to your house. You were suspended for three days but you said you didn’t care.

I remember the second time we kissed. I had gone to some college party at your campus because some friend had invited you. I sat there, my anxiety high as sweaty, intoxicated bodies filled the room. You pulled me into some random room, locked the door, and let me sit on the bed as you stood in front of me, watching me breath frantically. “It’s okay.” You said over and over again as you stroked my face. You looked deep in my eyes and slowly reached out and kissed me, your soft lips meeting mine. You pulled away quickly, mumbling a sorry, and then we left the party and head to your house.

My life has been anything but a fairytale. I know that. It’s been a burden that I’ve been carrying around for years now. But I don’t want to carry it anymore. I’m tired, Tyler. And I can’t stand to see you watch me cry again. You’ve done it so many times already that I’ve lost count.

I’m a burden. I don’t want to be a burden. Especially to you. Because, God dammit Tyler Joseph, I love you. So fucking much. But it hurts. Life hurts and I need to numb the pain.

Please don’t cry or be sad. Move on, start that band you’ve talked about, and live life. I love you, Ty. Treat yourself well.

—-

He dropped the letter, eyes full of tears as he read the last sentence. He felt dizzy. He couldn’t breathe. He felt as if he was being held back.

He sat up from the chair and clutched the letter in his hand as his other one grabbed his phone. He dialed the three numbers.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My friend may have committed suicide.”

—-

He stood in the rain, the drops of water pounding on his black tux as he stood at her burial site. He held a small bouquet of white tulips in his hand. Her favorite. He remembered when he bought her some when he asked her to prom.

He watched as people left. Her parents had been the first ones gone. Tears had flowed out of her mothers eyes as she realized she was part of the reason. Apparently she had written them a letter too.

His parents stood behind him silently but he still felt so alone. She was a light in his life that had been extinguished. He was lost and in the dark.

“Tyler, sweetie, we should probably get going.” His mother whispered but he continued to stare at the photo of her near her site. She looked so happy, a big smile on her face. He had taken the photo they used for her service. He remembered as they were in his room, smiling and laughing and he caught the moment with that photo. She looked happy.

“Please. We could never imagine what you’re going through but we are here for you.”

They kept saying that. Everybody was saying that. We’re here for you. He only needed one person to be there for him. And she was gone.

—-

He could breath. His hands shook violently as his body crumbled before him, bringing him to his knees. He dropped the box of dusty photos, all full of the same smiling face. She was gone, gone, gone. And it was his fault. He knew she had troubles. But he didn’t know how bad it was.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he gripped one photo in his hand, holding it tightly against his chest. It had been a photo from their graduation. They both seemed so ready and prepared for the world. If only she knew that she was his world and now she was gone.

—-

He sat in the plain, modern office with the same woman staring at his again, waiting for him to speak. But he never did.

“Tyler, I know you are in pain but you need to talk to something. You can’t let this eat at you forever. It isn’t your fault.”

He scoffed, one of the first sounds he has made with this therapist his parents set him up with. Of course it was his fault. She left and he didn’t stop her. Couldn’t stop her.

—-

“I’m glad you are finally talking.” The therapist said with a smile that made him want to die.

“Only because my parents.”

“That’s okay. As long as you are talking. That’s enough for me.”

There was a long string of silence.

“Tyler, this may be a sensitive topic-”

“Because my friend committing suicide isn’t sensitive enough.”

Another pause.

“Did you possibly love her? As in more than a deep friendship?”

He clenched his eyes shut as tears threatened to spill.

“She was my everything. She was my world. And the fact that I’m saying was instead of is right now kills me.” He looks up at the therapist who shows the first ounce of real emotion he’s ever seen from her. “I loved that girl more than anyone can love anything. I was going to tell her that.”

“When, Tyler?”

“I was walking out the door to walk to her place to tell her when I saw the letter.”

—-

Tyler sat on the grass, his eyes trained the gravestone before him. He placed the white tulips down in front of him before taking a deep breath.

“I never officially told you. And I’m not sure if you can hear or if there is a heaven. I’m not sure I can believe anything right now. But, if you can hear, I want you to know that I was madly, truly, deeply in love with you. More than one would ever understand. I still am. And I hate to say it, but I’m afraid that I always will be.”

—-

He stood at he same site, with the same white tulips, staring at the same gravestone. But everything seemed different now.

“Hey there. I’m sorry I don’t come a lot now. I’m on tour. Yeah…I know. It’s been crazy. Josh, I’ve mentioned him before, is amazing and the band is incredible. Twenty One Pilots…you always told me that sounds like the name of a famous band. Guess you were right.

"I met this girl. I mentioned her earlier, Jenna. You know about her. I’m going to propose.”

Silence filled the area as he paused.

“I still love you and always will but she is incredible. She reminds me of you a little. I really love her and she makes me happy. So I’m going to propose.”

Another pause as a his eyes grow wet.

“I wrote a song for you. It’s called Guns for Hands. I told everybody it was about fans I met, which is partially true. But I just can’t bare to talk about you with reporters and interviewers. I told Jenna about you a couple months back. And she was cool with it. Maybe I’ll bring her with me one time. Unless that’s weird. I’m not really sure. But I’ll definitely bring Josh.

"Well, I love you. And I still miss you. Thank you.”

He placed the white tulips against her headstone, wiped a few stray tears, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked away.

2

Susan Bones and Theo Nott, by all the social conventions of Hogwarts, should not have been friends, yet here they were. They meet over dusty library books and arithmetic homework. Susan - half-blood and proud - introduced Theo to the calculator. It was low enough technology to work within Hogwart’s walls. They met, over and over again, over those books and the call for justice they both felt within themselves. Susan listened, she formed rebuttals, but she never used Theo’s bloodline for a basis. It felt so good to been seen as a person and not his father’s son.

Justin and Millicent were another strange pair. Millicent - called fat, called ugly, called cry baby, called so many horrible things - met Justin as she was pretending to not cry in a corner. Justin had been called slow, called stupid, called spare, all his life. By older cousins teasing and tearing and teachers that really ought to know better. Justin told a joke, flashed a smile, and did a magic trick with his clumsy hands and Millicent was smiling. Millicent shared stories and her mother’s gardening secrets. 

Don’t listen to them when they say that snakes are good for nothing but biting. Don’t listen to them when they say that badgers don’t have teeth. Friendships are built on this: fairness, loyalty, the desire to want something, the act of chasing after it. Slytherin is where you’ll make you real friends and Helga took them all and treated them all the same. 

They are not born enemies - no one is born enemies - and there is so much common ground to be found.

anonymous asked:

Hey, your fic writing not-so-anon gal here. For blurb night I was wondering if I could request something from the song Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons please? Maybe with Remus bc of obvious reasons? Although, if you feel it would fit with a different character then go for it, I don't mind. I have been on a real kick with that song as of late, it keeps popping back into my head. Thanks so much, love. Can't wait to read what you've got in store! ♡♡ xoxo

Though your tears had dried weeks ago, your heart still hurt as though the breakup had occurred just yesterday. A month ago, Remus had ended your relationship. Even worse, your friendship. He gave you no explanation. Nothing. After a year of being together. And that hurt like hell. 

He had avoided you like the plague since then. Turning his head when your eyes would meet across the room, going out of his way to make sure your paths never crossed. Until tonight. 

A party raged in the common room. A Ravenclaw boy had his arm around your shoulder and to be honest, you were relishing in the closeness. The feeling that someone wanted you. Even if Remus didn’t. 

Remus barreled toward you, his eyes ablaze. 

“Get your arm away from her,” he spit through gritted teeth at the innocent boy who looked extremely startled. 

“Uh, sure, sorry, mate,” the Ravenclaw threw his hands up in surrender before scurrying away. 

“What the fuck was that?” you glared. 

Remus simply turned and took the stairs up toward his room, you hot on his heels. 

“Remus, what the fuck?” you shouted, cornering him in front of the boys’ doorway. 

“He wasn’t right for you,” Remus claimed.

“Who I date is none of your fucking business. You broke up with me. I wasn’t good enough for you, remember?” you seethed. 

Remus chuckled bitterly. 

“What? What’s so funny?” your face red with anger. 

“You think I broke up with you because you’re not good enough for me? Christ, (Y/N), you thinking that is exactly why you’re too good for me,” he shook his head. 

“What?”

Remus slammed his fist against the door, “Damn it, (Y/N), I broke up with you because I’m not good enough for you. It wasn’t anything you did. It was me. You’re limiting yourself by being with me. I’m a fucking werewolf. You can do so much better.” 

“Remus,” you murmured, “I don’t want to do better. I want you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, his eyes unbelieving. 

“Yes,” you promised pressing your lips against his. 

Originally posted by lxxnylxxpylupin