#[[ dunno if you can count this as a poem but oh well ]]

[maestro-of-clockwork]

My poor dear, you were cast aside,

Treated like a broken doll.

Once your usefulness to Father Dear had run out,

He only tossed you away.

You came to me, with tears in your eyes,

Confided in me your deepest scars...

I almost felt terrible for you.

Almost.

And so began the game.

Starting out, I gave you

What you'd always wanted:

Attention,

Love,

Care,

Affection...

All a mask, of course, but that is just

My modus operandi by now...

I twist and weave the strings of fate,

All of the paths lain out in front of me

...I could never have predicted

I'd actually grow fond of you.

I knew that I was plucking at your emotions

Not unlike the Devil's lyre,

But even when all was said and done,

Even when I rendered you a broken shell of who you once were,

I felt...remiss, somehow.

Yes, I loved and still love to see you suffer.

I take great amusement in your turmoil.

However...something within me

Longs to see you smile, all the same.

I cannot help but check on you

A bit more than I do your friends...

Sometimes, I imagine such absurd things:

I imagine taking you on trips, to let you see the sights you've always dreamt of...

I imagine you telling me about all of your achievements, and I imagine I tell you how proud I am of you...

I imagine you asking me for advice and support, which I gladly give...

I imagine you telling me all about your new favourite things, your new hopes, and new dreams...

I imagine gifting you things I'd made by hand - you beam brightly at me and say that I'm the best fath-. . .

Nevermind it.

It really is silly, isn't it. . .?

Ah, forget that I said anything, sunshine. . .

#from the typewriter. {{ t e x t }} #words are an art. {{ poems }} #[[ dunno if you can count this as a poem but oh well ]] #dhmis ask blog #[[ antonio wicked stepfather au ]] #tw neglect mention

[ddwcaph-game]

From the author ask list can I ask for 2,12,13 and 17 please?

(From this ask list)

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

I was gonna say my old first draft back when I first started NaNoWriMo 2015, but it has to be my old fanfics. I'm not even gonna say what they were, but one of them was a Facebook game, and the other one is a crossover (the one where I promised myself I'll finish all 12 books before I die), which had plants and sea creatures as the characters. I think a good chunk of that one was handwritten so it's probably gone now, but yeah.

There's also this sitcom short story about adult Wayne and Cham that I wrote a few years back when I was sick. It's kinda trashy in a good way, and it's definitely more of a self-fanfic. 😅

12) your weaknesses as an author

Okay, I didn't expect to have a lot of answers for this one...

My first thought: I'm not very good with descriptions, and I always get a little jealous at writers who can make anything sound atmospheric.

Organization is definitely a weak spot for me as well ever since I first started writing, and it's starting to come back and haunt me now.

Also, naming things. I'm just bad with names. It's even more of a problem because I can't develop a character if they don't at least have a placeholder name, and even that I struggle with.

And speaking of, I'm also very slow with developing new characters. The IAC characters mostly came to me from a burst of inspiration, but even so they've been living in my notes for at least a couple of years. Even now I'm still not totally sure what I want to do with B and the characters in Lily's story world.

And speaking of characters, I struggle the most with villains/antagonists. I mean, just look at what happened to B. I even cut my original villain because she doesn't fit the story anymore. And she had a lot of variations.

Genre-wise, horror and mystery are probably my weaker areas, if you don't include historical stuff which I (generally) have little interest in.

Also, poems and songs! Those count too, right? I mean, I'm probably not the worst at them, but it is something I struggle with.

And on the personality side... I tend to be a perfectionist sometimes. I say sometimes because I have no idea when it'll strike me with full force. And when it does, it sucks, and it's hard to get out of it.

And probably my worst one is that I can't just help but compare myself to others. It's easy to say not to, but I dunno if I'll ever be able to stop thinking about it. And I hate it. So much.

13) your strengths as an author

I'd say dialogue, and writing from a younger perspective are the areas I'm the most confident in. Maybe introspective and slice-of-life stuff too, but those two are my first thoughts.

I'm only bringing this one up because I see too many struggle with this (and because I accidentally listed too many weaknesses), but I never really had a problem with having too many WIPs at the same time. I can't relate to it, hehe.

Oh, and this is less of an author thing, but I'm comfortable enough at the coding side of things. Definitely not yet with Ren'Py though.

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

I wouldn't tell little me anything because that would create a plot hole (Or maybe I want that to happen? Wait, I do want that to happen).

Okay, then I'd tell little me to take organization more seriously, because that would really help me right now. But more importantly, I'd tell myself to make Rosie more huggable not to worry too much and compare myself to others.

Maybe I'd at least feel a little better today.

Thank you so much for sending an ask! ❤️

#ask games #dear diary asks

[avengernomore]

Name: Josh, but I have been known by many names, Shadow, Cobalt, Sasuke-Mun... Star Sign: Pisces. I'mma feesh Height: I don't know exactly but like, 5'10"? 5'11"? (177cm-180cm) Middle name: David.

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?: Oh god, let's see how my music playlist on YouTube is gonna expose me... 1. BIG SHOT feat. Alpharad [Deltarune Metal Cover] - FamilyJules 2. "Spider Dance" (Vocal Music Box Cover // Undertale) - Adriana Figueroa 3. Homestuck - MeGaLoVania - Toby Fox 4. Touhou Luna Nights BGM - Stage 4 Boss - Septette for the Dead Princess - Team Ladybug 5. Eye of the Tiger by Survivor (Duet) - Gawr Gura and Nanashi Mumei 6. PCB Stage 6 Boss - Yuyuko Saigyouji's Theme - Border of Life - ZUN

Well, that could have been a lot worse.

Ever had a poem or song written about you: Not as far as I'm aware, no. Dunno how I'd react if someone had done it... probably would depend on how well I knew them. When was the last time you played air guitar: ...I dunno, actually. I'm way more likely to just jiggle my leg and tap my fingers to the rhythm on whatever hard surface is nearest. Who is your celebrity crush?: Uhhhhh... I dunno. Like, I have a lot of celebrities that I REALLY like, like Robin Williams (R.I.P.) and Daniel Craig, but I'm not really crushing on any celebrities at all? Not that those two would be likely candidates, since I'm a heterosexual guy, but nyeh. What’s a sound you hate? A sound you love?: The sound of people chewing with their mouth open and the sound of polystyrene. Sounds I love though... I'm struggling to think of anything other than meowing. Some meowing, of course. I just like talking to cats and having them talk back. :3

Do you believe in ghosts?: Not really, no. How about aliens: I mean, do you KNOW how big the universe is? No, of course you don't. No-one knows how big the universe is, that's how fucking big it is. And when you look at the sky, and see all those stars? There's even more planets than stars. We cannot be the only planet where life occured and flourished. Like, that's just statistically impossible, I think. Do you drive?: Nah. Honestly, I'm a little scared of learning, and if I did learn I'd probably just work on getting a license for an automatic. A little less to worry about when driving. If so have you ever crashed: I mean, I don't drive, but I've fallen off horses before, does that count?

What was the last book you read?: I mean, if you want a new book I've read... then I have no idea. If you want one that I've re-read, Scott Pilgrim Vol. 2 Do you like the smell of gasoline: ... in small doses. It's just a really heavy smell so a little of it goes a long way.

What was the last movie you saw?: Knives Out!! Such a great film, great to see Daniel Craig proving that he can do more than just James Bond even after so long, and Chris Evans showing that he can still be an asshole after being Captain America for so long. What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: ...Honestly, it's a bit of a draw. When I fell of the horse, like I mentioned above, I fell onto my back, couldn't get up for a minute, and wasn't in any condition to get back on the horse that day. My arm and shoulder hurt for 2 weeks, and my back was aching for a week or two after that. And that was when I was a teenager. More recently, I ended up falling backwards in a really awkward way and busted both of my kneecaps. Couldn't get up for five minutes, got up, managed to finish my walk home, and then could barely walk for like a week, and my knees still hurt 3 weeks later. That was when I was much older so I dunno which is worse really. Do you have any obsessions right now?: .....Watermelon/Suika Game. Shush.

Tagged by: Yoinked from: @yukixxnoxxtsubasa Tagging: DO IT, YOU WON'T!

#mun info #mun stuff

[dadsbongos]

OKAY SO, I posted smth about ur deku having a crush on his wife fic because it was amazing and I couldn't find it,,,

NOW THAT I HAVE RE-READ IT. Can I request something similar for Bakugo?

"Bakugo having a crush on his wife" fic UR SO GOOD AT MAKING FICS

Ur fluff fics are suppPERRRRR CUTE!

(you don't have to do this btw!)

other bnha men loving their wives - deku / shoto

awww i'm so glad you liked it <33 i looooove writing these so much they're so fun

Request for: Katsuki Bakugou Warnings: not super proofread :/, modern lingo that will one day be dated Word Count: 1K ~~~

DYNAMIGHT EXPOSES CRUSH ON WIFE - uploaded by HeroFeed, a trusted hero news network, two hours ago.

“Oh, hey,” you lean across the kitchen island, holding your phone out to Katsuki, “that interview’s already up.”

“Huh?” he turns away from the stove, brow raising, “You gonna watch it?”

“I dunno, maybe when you’re on a mission or something,” you shrug.

Katsuki leans forward and kisses your forehead, “Have fun, sap.”

“You’re the sap!”

“Fuck no.”

“I think the video would show otherwise.”

.

.

.

“Introduce yourselves,” comes from behind the camera.

Katsuki, ever the hater of interviews, huffs before following the instruction, “Great Explosion Murder God - Dynamight.”

“Bimbo.”

“No, be fuckin’ real,” Katsuki’s chuckling, oh so lightly, as he says it, “We’re doin’ this shit together.”

“Okay,” you look the camera dead in the lens as you say your hero name, “And that’s the truth.”

“It is,” Katsuki nods in your defense.

“Okay, first question - the best gift you’ve ever gotten?”

“Mina once got me a book of the worst poems ever, and on page nineteen it says ‘You ripped out my heart, so I ripped off your clit.’ And I think that’s beautiful,” you turn to your husband, placing a hand over his, “What about you, babe?”

“You,” he takes his other hand and places it over yours, “got me a shirt that says ‘Feminism’ over my boobs,” Katsuki turns his head to the camera, “and underneath, it says ‘it gives you great tits.’”

“Aw, I’m glad you like it.”

“How could I fuckin’ not?”

“Good answer,” you retract your hand but he takes it back, securing your hand within his own.

“Next - “ the voice behind the camera continues, “worst opinion you’ve ever heard?”

“Someone once said that Todoroki’s hotter than you,” you mumble, “Bad opinion.”

Katsuki nods, “I’ve heard kids call you ‘mid’, absolutely dogshit take,” he points at the camera, “I’ll kill anyone who thinks that my wife isn’t amazing and incredible because you’re all just fucking wrong.”

“Craziest dream you’ve ever had?”

“Last night,” you snap and point at the camera, “I dreamt that Katsu and I went to the zoo but all the animals were actually human babies.”

“What was I wearing?” he suddenly asks, prompting a quizzical stare from you, “You fuckin’ heard me. What was I wearing?”

“I- I dunno,” you shake your head, laughing at his serious expression, “Nothing.”

“I was butt-ass naked?” his eyes widen, “Pervert.”

“No, like, nothing of interest,” you shrug, “Dream you lacks drip.”

“Fuckin’ rude, dream me should know better,” Katsuki ‘tsk’s, then points at the camera, “Start dressing well for your wife, that’s my lesson. Even if you don’t have a wife, imagine you’re dressing for mine - and then cry because you’ll never get to know her like I do.”

“Katsu!” you lightly smack his shoulder with the hand not holding his, fully knowing he can barely feel it beneath his muscle, “That’s so rude!”

“You know who you married! I meant that shit!” he looks at the ceiling before glancing at you, “Craziest dream I had - I was chopping carrots but they all looked like Aizawa and were lecturing me on self-control.”

The woman asking you two questions from behind the camera laughs before asking the next question, “Cutest pet name between the two of you?”

“Oh! Oh! I’ve been waiting to talk about this,” you’re nearly jumping out of your seat with excitement and Katsuki can’t bring himself to smother down the small smile that sprouts at his lips, “One time, early in the morning, Katsu was all tired and said ‘Hi, Elmo,” and I assumed it was a joke or something but when I asked why he called me that, he just said, ‘I love Elmo.’”

“You call me bomb-boy,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand in his, “I like when you call me that. Makes me feel… fuckin’ cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll do it more.”

He nods, squeezing your hand once more, and the woman asks her next question, “Something you’ve defended the other person for, even though you know they were in the wrong?”

“She,” Katsuki’s immediate to point at you, eyes wide, “fucking hit Endeavor’s giant ass fucking car. And I sat there and defended her.”

“As you should have,” you giggle, leaning over to kiss your husband’s cheek, “And thank you.”

“Well,” he shakes, “what the fuck was Endeavor doing on your road?”

“Exactly!” you cheer, “Anyway, I once looked our old homeroom teacher in the eye and said that Katsuki wasn’t technically breaking dress code because even though his pants were sagging, they weren’t low enough to be called sagging by code-standards,” you sigh dreamily, batting your eyelashes at your husband, “And I’d do it all over again.”

“And, of course, what would you do if your significant other was a worm?”

You answer first, “I would keep him alive in the most special tank and then mourn him when he dies after four years.”

“I,” Katsuki immediately follows after, “would drive myself fucking mad as a scientist trying desperately to figure out a way to turn you human so I could marry you.”

“How romantic,” you tease.

“And, lastly, anything you two think the audience should know?”

“This guy once went out with a bunch of his friends and texted me saying he was drunk, and like ten minutes later - Red Riot sends me a picture of him passed out with his phone on and zoomed in on one of our wedding pictures,” you pat your husband’s arm, “He loves me.”

“Speaking of our wedding,” Katsuki begins, “shitty hair asked me the day before we got married if I thought I was doing the right thing,” Katsuki scratches the side of his nose, dodging your eyes, “Getting married so fuckin’ young, I mean. He asked if I was doin’ the right thing and I told him I’d love you till the day I died,” he shakes his head when you grin and kiss his cheek, “‘s so fuckin’ cheesy.”

“Yeah, but it’s adorable,” you coo.

“I’m still tough,” he points into the camera, eyes narrowing, “I’ll kill you.”

“No, he won’t,” you smile, leaning into Katsuki’s side.

As if on instinct, he brings an arm around you, kissing the side of your head, “No, I won’t. I love my wife - I do what she says.”

“That’s my big, strong husband,” you jokingly pat his muscled chest, not noticing the way Katsuki seems to beam with pride at your words.

“Hell yeah, I am.”

And he’s more than willing to exclaim it in front of the camera as long as it makes you happy.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou fluff #anon chatter :)

[romanianwilkinson]

MONSTER CAMP QUOTES STARTERS

A collection of sentence starters from the game Monster Camp. Feel free to change words and pronouns as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Monster Prom/Monster Camp spoilers, suggestive, cursing, crude content

“ I just have it here because [NAME] insisted that I offer it, as a marketing stunt. ”

“ And lastly, super-horny-type players no longer get a charm buff against tsundere types! ”

“ War machines don’t turn me on or anything! ”

“ I don’t wanna be weird, but do you mind if I climb inside of you and play around with your main turret? ”

“ A wine to DIE for, you say? Well, darling, don’t threaten me with a good time! ”

“ This one just says ‘ hmu with that reaper dick, daddy ’. ”

“ You on your phone, as always! Probably making blogposts on your Tik Tok page. ”

“ Yeah, you really don’t want to witness a repeat of the last time [NAME]’s diehard fans went without a selfie for fifteen minutes. My tailbone still hasn’t completely healed. ”

“ Now hold still, this will only hurt for a moment --- ”

“ Yay! You found a shenanigan! ”

“ My poems all have two or three emotions in them, AT LEAST. ”

“ CRYING IS OBVIOUSLY A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN SQUEEZE THE MOST WATER OUT OF THEIR EYES! ”

“ No way, really? The way to WIN at poetry is by LOSING at life? ”

“ I dunno, maybe fall in love with someone who’s married and develop an opioid addiction? ”

“ HELL YEAH, SPEEDRUN! ”

“ It’s morbid, but... kind of romantic? ”

“ GASP! Google+? Are you kidding me? The psychopaths behind that global tragedy are here?! ”

“ Prison has changed me, [NAME]. Would you like to trade me some cigarettes in exchange for my fundamental dignity? ”

“ Undermining the laws of reality, subverting life and death, that’s the kind of stuff my followers expect. But CHEATING? No way. ”

“ Though we are imprisoned in chalk jail, we are free in our hearts. But our hearts are also imprisoned in chalk jail. ”

“ Um, no, I am NOT groveling. I am posing a dignified query to [NAME] that just so happens to be performed on my hands and knees. ”

“ I didn’t know you condoned playing the friend card to get free labor, [NAME]. ”

“ Ah, but saving the world doesn’t put avocado toast on the table. We indie seancers and necromancers need to pay our rent too, you know. ”

“ And as you know, I am illustriously Internet-famous, so if you could shower me with adoration and give me the pizza that would be fabulous. ”

“ Do you wanna fuck the pizza or not? ”

“ Are you ready to go swimming? I must admit, darling, I’ve always wondered what you would look like while... wet.”

“ Did you turn this date into an orgy without consulting me? ”

“ Gosh, I love it when you insult me! Please do it more! ”

“ Now who wants to make a baby? ”

“ What if she puts a curse on me that makes me magically forget the location of the clitoris?! ”

“ Hey, don’t knock wacky decisions that endanger us all! That’s how I always manage to stay a step ahead of my nemeses! ”

“ Oh gods, I’ve killed so many monsters, just for being monsters. This is making me question my entire moral foundation. I NEED MORE THERAPY. ”

“ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: fish give better pedicures than people! ”

“ You’re not tricking me into parenting a stupid egg. I’ve never fucked even ONE chicken! The egg is not my son! ”

“ You came to visit me at camp, Daddy! ”

“ Don’t be ridiculous, I know your brand of horny, [NAME], and this ain’t it. ”

“ I thought we both agreed to be nothing but vague and haughtily aloof about our past dalliances. ”

“ Point EAST, compass! EAAAAAAAAST! You dumb fuckboot!!!! POINT! EAST! ”

“ One time I was told a soul’s worst fear was bugs and I inadvertantly sent The Beatles. It happens to the best of us... And the worst of us. ”

“ SOMEDAY I SHALL DEFEAT YOUR FIVE STRANGE FEET! ”

“ Why do you keep suppressing your monster half? Embrace your true nature! ”

“ Wow. I didn't think this was possible, but I guess I was... wrong? About social media? Oh dear God, is this how grandparents feel?!?! Am I a GRANDPARENT?! ”

“ I don’t know! I was relying on my friends to cover up my bold and idiotic statement! ”

“ ... I ate the oars. ”

“ PSYCHE. The ocean can eat my ass. ”

“ So pucker up, [NAME]! I'm about to declare mouth war on your FACE! ”

“ YOU FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! You're showing our inexperience! YOUR HONOR, THE ENTIRE LEGAL TEAM PLEADS THE FIFTH! ”

“ That's right. I'm talking about a classic Transylvania Hot Tub, a Seth Brundle, and a REVERSE Reverse Romanian Wilkinson. ”

“ Sorry, I was in your ribcage seeing if I could use it to cut strips of crepe paper into confetti and then I got lost in your kidneys. ”

“ There's nothing sexier than a doomed romance between a dating sim player and a hot fictional character. ”

“ That's right! I secretly replaced one of you with a bear while no one was looking, to teach you a valuable lesson about the art of disguise! ”

“ Enchant my armor. I’m going into the lake. ”

“ For VIOLENCE REASONS! ” 

“ This stupid lake monster called me short the other day, but I was too low level to crush him like he deserved. ”

“ That dumb wet dinkhole won't know what hit him! But it will be me! I will hit him! ”

“ No, YOU'RE a fuckshark! Also, what does that even mean?! ”

“ You seriously didn't notice the enormous needles those interns jabbed into your veins as soon as [NAME] got here? “

“ It all makes sense! The Camp Dome is just an elaborate ploy to distract us from the giant mouth that eats campers! “

“ This is the BEST show I've ever seen in my life, which is now at an end! “

“ Am I high, or did he just tell us EXACTLY how to foil his evil scheme? “

“ What, like a few severed heads and visions of my grandpa screaming in horrendous pain are gonna freak me out? Where I'm from, you can buy that stuff at IKEA. “

“ ERROR: Due to the sixth mass extinction, the slaying of leprechauns is inadvisable. “

“ Then why do I have half-finished scarves, decoupage, pot-holders, friendship bracelets, and a taxidermied rabbit in my skeleton? “

“ The wang elemental. ”

“ I also have an uncle who works at Nintendo as a copy machine! “

“ What flavor of ice cream AM I?! Now I gotta know. HA! You know what I should be? 'Pistachio.' Because my outside is HARD, but I'm full of NUT. “

“ I mean, life is a bit like... this sandwich! No, stay with me, I'm going somewhere good with this. “

“ A survival situation without any sexy fun time isn't worth surviving in the first place. “

“ Rut the RUCK?! ”

“ The ' ambulance of the heart ' is just a regular ambulance! Ambulances treat all organs! ”

“ Yeah, that's why I made sure that my so-called ' emotional armor ' was also ' actual armor '. “

“ And being yourself is the key to living your dreams, which is the key to self actualization, which is the key to being really good at sex! “

“ So hot I'd buy that even without free shipping. 10/10, call me some time. “

“ Hi, quick question: does it count as kidnapping if I'm abducting you so you can help me do a thing you already agreed to help with? “

“ I could be wrong, but are you just upset because you DON'T have a skeleton that's inside your body? “

“ I'm gonna get SO FUCKING RELAXED MY HEAD WILL EXPLODE! “

“ Whoah, whoa, hold up. You're fucking my grandma? “

“ No, [NAME], that is a popcorn bag full of more dynamite. Put it down. “

“ I hear that at least 70% of people on Patreon aren't murderers! “

“ If you want cash, just rob banks like the rest of us! “

“ Did it work? Do you feel any less horny? ”

“ FUCK YEAH, LET'S PUNCH THAT MOUTH IN ITS MOUTH! “

“ Yes... incidentally, we are no longer allowed to enter Italy. “

“ Is anyone else turned on right now? ”

“ Yes! Yes! I know what you're feeling! I suddenly see how marrying a corpse isn't okay! “

“ JUST LET ME IMPROVE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, MORTAL! “

“ Look, choose whatever you want, but I'm not responsible for whatever you put in your mouth. ”

#rp starters #rp sentence starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #ask meme #rp ask meme #monster prom #monster camp #monster prom rp #monster prom roleplay #monster camp rp #monster camp roleplay #mine

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

The Two Headed Calf

Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Peter Parker x Black!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

“Yeah but isn’t it beautiful? He isn’t going to make it he never was going to but he doesn’t know that. That’s the part that’s beautiful. He doesn’t know.” 

Warnings: for once none

A/N: It’s not really specified that the characters black but every time I write I have a black person in mind because that's just who I write for but anybody can read. Also accidentally made this gender-neutral so really anybody could read. This is a first kiss oneshot I guess I haven’t posted anything in a while but I’m finally making a masterlist. 

Masterlist

“Do you think the stars and the moon watch us like we’re watching them?” You asked, playing with the strings on Peter’s hoodie. You were lying between his legs and resting on his chest. 

“I dunno.” He shrugged, you could feel his voice move through him as he talked. He was warm and he smelled good. “They seem like they’d have good gossip though.” 

“Yeah I bet the moon has seen some shit.” You giggled. 

That was the most beautiful sound Peter had ever heard. He’d never get tired of hearing you laugh. Or being around you period for that matter. 

You were both far away from anyone and everyone, lying on a blanket in the grass looking at the stars. You’d mentioned interest in them at some point since the time he’d met you, so he decided to take you away from the light pollution of the city so you both could stargaze.

You’d been on 13 dates exactly. Peter would know he counted (even the ones that didn’t really count) and this is the first time you’d ever been so close to each other. 

He wasn’t complaining, just nervous. He didn’t want to mess anything up he liked you so much. He swore you could hear his heartbeat. It felt so loud to him. . 

“Everytime I look at the stars I get reminded of this one poem I read a while ago.” You interrupted the comfortable silence you were both sitting in for a moment. 

“What’s it about?” 

“It’s called ‘The Two Headed Calf’. I actually memorized the whole thing.” 

“Tell me how it goes.” He prompted pulling you closer to himself experimentally. 

You seemed to be fine with it because you snuggled closer and smiled at him. He could feel his heart flutter. You were so beautiful. 

“It goes like this ‘Tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature, they will wrap his body

in newspaper and carry him to the museum. But tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. It is a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over

the orchard, the wind in the grass. And as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual.’ It’s one of my favorites.” 

“That’s sad.” He frowned and you giggled again because he was so adorable. However you did want him to smile again. You enjoyed seeing him happy. 

“Yeah but isn’t it beautiful? He isn’t gonna make it he never was going to but he doesn’t know that. That’s the part that’s beautiful. He doesn’t know.” 

“That’s not sad to you?” He asked genuinely. 

He wanted to understand what you meant. He always liked hearing about what and how you thought. You were the smartest person he knew. “I do believe it’s sad. But that’s what makes it beautiful.” You clarified.  

“The ability to feel sad about something means you had to care about it. I think the caring is the beautiful part.” You placed your ear directly over his heartbeat before continuing. “I don’t know how to put it into words that well but there’s this one line in Men in Black that goes ‘A person is smart. People are stupid.’-” He interrupted you.

He knew what scene you were talking about. “Oh yeah, that was the scene where Edward was telling Kay that humans should be able to know about aliens and Kay was like people are dumb and get scared easily.” You nodded at him and he continued. “He was talking about how when time passes by we learn new things about the world like discovering the earth wasn’t flat and stuff.” 

“Exactly where I was going with that.” You smiled again looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I guess my point was humans don’t know shit. We might as well all be that two-headed calf and we’re going to die tomorrow but I think that’s okay because we never stood a chance anyways. So all we can do is live until we don’t anymore.”

 He liked how you were able to use other people's words but make them you. You had that quality, everything you touched became you. Everything should be more like you. You were awesome.

“You know.” Peter paused. “Most people would say that’s a depressing way to think.” 

“Yeah?” You smirked at him. “Well, I’m not most people.” 

“Me either.” He agreed. “Cause I think that’s beautiful.”

“I think you’re beautiful.” You complimented him and he blushed. 

He always looked so adorable. You were laying flat on the ground now so he had to lean down to look at you. As he did two stray pieces of hair fell into his forehead. 

`You brushed the pieces back with your right hand and the moment felt so intimate and he thinks he wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t in his life. 

He thinks- no he doesn’t think he knows. He knows then that in all the infinite universes out there you were always going to meet someway somehow. A man of science shouldn’t believe in fate, but he doesn’t know what else to call this.

You said something but he didn’t hear you. He was too busy being enamored by your beauty to notice anything. You smell so good. 

When did you move back up to lean against his chest? He seriously didn’t understand how someone could be as perfect as you. 

“Huh?” He asked for you to repeat yourself. 

“I said you don’t get complimented much do you.” 

“That’s not it.” He shook his head. “It’s just a lot to get called beautiful from the most beautiful person in the world.” 

You don’t know what you were expecting but that wasn’t it. You could feel your cheeks heat up. You buried your face in the crook of his neck. 

“You really think I’m ‘the most beautiful person in the world’?” You mimicked his voice. 

He laughed before responding matter of factly. “I know you are.” 

You smiled moving your face to look him in the eyes. You could feel the atmosphere shift around you. 

You glanced between his lips and eyes multiple times and felt him do the same before he asked. “Can I kiss you?” 

You didn’t respond, you just leaned forward and connected your lips. He cupped your cheek with his hand and you moved your arms to rest on his shoulders. When you pulled apart you both had unshakeable smiles. 

Wordlessly you moved to lean your cheek on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around you. 

You both looked up to the stars oblivious to the world around you as they watched you back. Whispers of the blooming love between two teenagers being the new gossip among the moon and the stars. 

Who knows what they would talk about tomorrow, you’d be the last person to care because tonight you were alive and it was the perfect summer evening. 

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #hannah speaks ღ

[miracle-sham]

Long for Who You Could Have Been.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 4, Day 19: Mistakes} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

———

| They might be monster hunters and that might mean their lives are fraught with chaos and danger. But there were moments in between the contracts and courts, fragile and wavering like the dying embers of a flame; where pasts, and hopes, and dreams were shared in the refuge of the campfire. |

| Word Count: 1,764. |

———

| A/N: So this is my second to last Jasonette July fic but the last to actually be posted in July since the other fic (Prompt: Loss) is taking longer than expected to write, whoops! Anyway here's a shorter Witcher au that's mostly fluff with a tinge of sadness here and there. Definitely feels weird to be using/needing so few tags for the first time in a long while! Lastly, thanks to my friend Saf whose reactions to the snippets I send her, absolutely fuel my will to write! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

The fire crackled gently, flames flickering in soft almost hypnotising patterns. The light and warmth were all that was keeping the chilling coastal mist at bay, from reaching their little makeshift camp.

Crescent moon and stars twinkled above, shining their silvery light down to mix with the ghostly mist below.

It was almost haunting, in the precious silence, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of waves against the cliff rocks not too far away. And the low hum of the local nocturnal bugs and other such creatures; the flap of bat wings, the cry of an owl, the flutter of moths and beetles, the scuttling of hedgehogs, mice, and foxes. The air was still, not even the faintest sea breeze and yet the fret rolled and crept and seeped into every nook and cranny outside of the protective glow of the campfire.

Jason sat on one side of the fire, on his bedroll and worked on cleaning his silver and steel swords with a rag, not quite humming as he quietly mouthed the words to a jaunty little tavern song, the Fishmonger's Daughter.

On the opposite side of the campfire, on her own bedroll, Marinette had a cloak splayed out across her knee with a needle and thread in hand. Tongue sticking out slightly, in concentration, carefully she darned away at the numerous little holes that had formed from walking through the thorny bush filled forest that their current contract had led them into entering.

With a huff, Jason threw the cleaning rag at the saddlebag on the ground beside him. He sheathed his swords and pulled out his favoured weapon, the crossbow with steel and silver-tipped bolts. Immediately he began checking the bolts for any potential damage and ensuring the shooting mechanism on the crossbow hadn't jammed.

“Something on your mind, Blue Jay?” Marinette asked, glancing up from her needlework for a moment.

He tipped his head back and sighed. “I've been thinking…”

“That's new.” She responded, mirth glinting obviously in her eyes and the bubble of laughter in her tone.

Jason gasped in faux offence, mindfully dropping his crossbow and scrambling for the cleaning rag just to throw it at her face.

Before it could hit her, Marinette plucked it out of the air with two fingers. She hummed mock-thoughtfully. “Your aim's off.”

“You take that back! My aim is impeccable. Alfred said so!” He argued back.

She snorted. “Alfred is biased because he's your grandfather figure. And I'll take it back next time we get through an entire contract without you missing a single shot.” To punctuate her point, she tossed the rag back at him.

He half-dived for it, grabbing it with both hands and with it safely in his grasp, placed the rag inside the saddlebag beside him. Throwing his arms up in mock-exasperation, Jason scowled playfully at her. “C'mon! That's not fair, you've never gone an entire contract without messing up or missing with your magic either!”

“Yeah,” Marinette agreed with a nod of her head and a smirk on her lips, “but I've never claimed to be perfect at magic!”

Her words caused him to falter slightly. “Right,” he swallowed a breath of air thickly, “That reminds me of what I was going to say before we got distracted.”

She frowned, furrowing her eyebrows and putting on a softer tone. “What is it? As much as we joke, I'd never actually judge you for missing shots or anything else, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know… I just.” He huffed in frustration. Hesitantly, he held her gaze with his own but not a second later, winced and shifted his to stare down at the flickering embers of the campfire pit. Avoiding eye contact with her. He clenched his fists. “D'you ever, I don't know, feel like this was all… a mistake?”

Scrunching up her face in confusion, she squinted at Jason. “What do you mean? As-as in taking the contract?”

“No! Well, yes but no. I mean…” He waved an arm, gesturing vaguely around them, “just everything. Becoming a Witcher. Or I guess in your case, a Sorceress. Do you regret it?”

When she didn't immediately respond, Jason huffed again, hunching his shoulders up and practically bristling like a particularly grumpy and grizzling moggy. “Look, never mind. Stupid question.”

“It's not stupid!” Marinette retorted, “I just… wasn't expecting a question like that at this moment.”

He stared at her expectantly. “Well?”

Tipping her head back slightly, she fiddled with the needle still in one hand and sighed. “I suppose I do, I know I shouldn't… but I miss the easy days. Like before I knew what I was capable of. Before I knew what horrors the world could bring. Back when my only worries were getting stitches right and not messing up when dealing with expensive materials. Or maybe having to worry if the Alderman's daughter was going to harass me at some point during the day.”

Marinette tilted her head forwards again, a frown gracing her lips, and shrugged. “What brings this up?”

There's not an immediate response, as Jason casts his gaze away from the fire—towards where the sea could be heard but not seen. His fingers twitched midair, almost as though plucking the strings of an instrument. “I never wanted to be a Witcher. I was a Child Surprise, dunno who was the one that offered the Law of Surprise though.”

“Ah, I sorta get that. I'm also a Child Surprise, didn't get to choose to be a Sorcerer either.” As she spoke, she nodded in solidarity.

Jason jolted, gaze immediately snapping up to stare at her, completely taken aback. “Wait seriously? You're a Child Surprise too? How'd that happen?”

“Well, my parents' bakery was attacked and Félix, y'know my mentor, saved them. He invoked the Law of Surprise, expecting to get bread or some other baked goods.” She snorted, “he was awfully surprised to end up getting me instead. And when I accidentally cast my first ever spell trying to escape the Alderman's daughter, I ended up teleporting to Félix.”

“So, wait Félix fucking invoked the Law of Surprise to get food? And got you instead. Holy fucking shit that's hilarious!” He wheezed, doubling over in raucous laughter.

Huffing, she cast a spell, causing a vine to sprout up out of the ground beside him and slap him on the knee. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!”

“Ouch! Hey, no fair!” Jason mock scowled, choking back any further laughter. Quickly, in retaliation, he cast a weak Aard.

The telekinetic wave knocked into Marinette, pushing her onto her back from the weakened force.

“Wha—! Oh, so the vine isn't fair but throwing me to the ground is!” She griped, crossing her arms (carefully as to not prick herself on the needle) but made no attempt to get up.

Half-shrugging and grinning smugly, he replied, “you started it!”

She made an exaggerated groaning noise in response before slowly shifting her position to push herself back up into sitting cross-legged. “Well, now you know how I became a Sorcerer. How'd being a Child Surprise tie into you ending up a Witcher, if you don't me asking?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged with both shoulders this time, “I tried to steal the infamous Bat of Gotham's horse, he asked me my name. Reluctantly and after some bribery of hot food, I told him. Didn't think to give a fake one, at the time. He made a face, invoked the Law of Surprise owed to him and dragged me back to the Bat Witcher school.”

“Huh,” Marinette responded, “so if you hadn't… what would you have done with your life?”

Jason raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously? This is me we're talking about. I'd have gone to Bard College, obviously. I'd have written poems and shit. And books, I'd have written books.”

Scrunching up her face once more, Marinette glanced down at the needle in her hand. “We're by the coast.”

“What?” He asked incredulously, giving her a bemused and questioning look. “What does that have to do with poetry and books?”

In a rush of words, she rambled, “we could take a holiday. I could find out about the spell to disguise your eyes… and uh hair too. That way no one will know you're a Witcher. And we can go to the bard college-town that's down the coast from where we are. We can scavenge together enough gold for you to attend, and you can write your poetry and books.”

Jason stared at her in shock, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Softly, as though anything louder than a whisper would cause the offer to shatter like his childhood dreams once had. “Oh, oh, could you really?”

As warmly as the fire between them, Marinette smiled, “of course! I'd have to ask Félix first of course. But he fell in love with Bridgette and she was a Witcher and he came up with a spell to disguise her whenever they weren't doing contracts or courtly politics. So I don't see why he wouldn't show me how to do it!”

Shakily, he wiped his eyes and smiled back. “Fuck, I'd love that!”

“Okay then! I'll contact Félix on the xenovox tomorrow.” As she spoke, a yawn slipped past her lips. “I think I'm gonna head to sleep now. I'll see you in the morning!”

“Good night, Marinette. I'm gonna stretch my legs real quick first.” He answered, hefting himself up and stretching his arms. “Sleep well, though.”

“Be careful!” Marinette yawned again and packed away her needlework for the night. She then wriggled into her bedroll. “And I'll try, g'night!”

“Night,” he whispered once more.

Quietly, so as to not disturb her, Jason slipped away from camp. Following the direction of the fret, he made his way down the safest cliff path he could find in the dark until his boots hit the sand. Step by step, he walked across the beach until the sea spray spattered against his clothes. He's close enough that the waves gently lapped at the toes of his boots.

Clutching one hand to his chest, just over where his heart was, Jason sighed and gazed longingly at the mist-shrouded sea.

“I never thought I'd get to continue my dreams after becoming a Witcher.” He whispered to the wind. “And now I can, thanks to her.”

He sighs again, heart warmed. And silently in the quietude of the beach at night, he cries alone. For his heart is too full with the kindness of another to contain the feelings any longer.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are much appreciated! |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

#Maribat #MLB x DC #DC xMLB #Jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #JasonetteJuly2021 #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #Jasonette July Week 4 #Jasonette July Day 19 #Jasonette July Mistakes #Long for Who You Could Have Been #LfWYCHB #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

[everyonesannoyedwithme]

you said forever

ok so for the first jatp fic i am EVER POSTING ON THIS WEBSITE ofc it had to be something angsty 😈 and after listening to olivia rodrigo’s new song drivers license i was feeling mega inspired so… here we go i guess! also its kinda short but oh well im pretty proud of it so you can deal with its length

summary: the boys crossed over more than a year ago, but julie’s still mourning. she just got her driver’s license, and a memory comes flooding back (i’m not exaggerating when i say i legitimately listened to drivers license on repeat while writing this).

word count: 1,257

Julie wanted to cry. No, not wanted - needed. She needed to cry, to show some kind of emotion, to stop bottling it up, but she just couldn't. She needed to be strong more than she needed to cry, and what would her dad think if he walked in on her in her room, crying? He didn’t know what had happened. No one did but her and Flynn, and Julie had already spent too many hours crying on Flynn’s shoulder. 

It was a good thing, she reminded herself, a good thing that the boys crossed over after the Orpheum performance. They could be at peace now. They were with her mom now.

But, God, did she want them back. When they left, Alex, Luke, and Reggie had left behind a cosmic ache in her chest, a hole that could never be filled. Alex, with his dry comments and comforting words and dance moves. Reggie, with his honesty and loyalty and joy. And Luke, oh God, Luke. Luke with his passion and his love and his stupid, stupid smile. Some days, Julie missed her boys so much she wanted to just curl up in bed with Flynn and not move. 

Going into her mom’s studio had become a whole new level of hard. Seeing their instruments and clothes on top of her mom’s things? The mere thought of doing that made her want to cry. Julie was strong, but even she couldn't bear losing four people in less than two years. She had barely known them, time-wise, at least, but she loved them. Julie loved her boys with everything she had, and now they were gone.

Of course, it’s not like she could show it.

It’s not like she could just stop playing music again.

Not that they'd want that, anyway.

So Julie had kept going. She had gone on with regular life, acting like everything was normal when in actuality, she felt like she had shattered into a thousand pieces.

She had continued on with her life, and as most teenagers do, Julie had just gotten her driver’s license. The glossy card had a picture of her, wearing Alex’s pink shirt and Reggie’s leather jacket and Luke’s wallet chain. And as the seventeen year old looked at her name printed on the license, she couldn't help slipping into a memory.

Julie and Luke sat next to each other on the sidewalk. It was growing dark, the sun disappearing over the tops of the palm trees, and Julie was getting nervous. In a few minutes, Flynn would get there and they’d have to go inside to perform their song, Finally Free, for a café of record execs. Reggie and Alex were already inside, watching the other bands, but Julie couldn’t bring herself to go in and Luke stayed with her.

As a car sped past the two of them, a question popped into Julie’s mind.

“Did you ever get your driver’s license?” She asked the boy next to her. “While you were alive, I mean.”

“Yeah. Me an’ Reggie got ours on the same day.” Luke responded, a smile on his face as he remembered the day. “Why?”

“Just curious. I’ve had my permit for a couple of months.”

“You like driving?”

“I’m not sure yet. It’s kind of stressful.”

“Yeah, I get that. Alex is the same way with it.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Like driving.”

“Oh. Yeah, I love it. My parents could never afford to get me my own car, so I usually drove my dad’s or Bobby’s car.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I dunno. The freedom, mostly, I guess. And you're stalling, by the way.”

Julie blinked innocently at Luke, finally tearing her gaze away from the road. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said.

“It’s okay, Jules. I got you. Me an’ the boys, we've got you. You’re a star, you’ll do great out there.” Luke said, looking as if he wished desperately to be able to reach out to her.

“You got me?”

“I got you. Forever.”

Julie smiled slightly at her new band mate, before looking back out at the road and spotting Flynn walking towards her. She hauled herself to her feet, whispering a small “thanks” that Luke just barely caught, and walked over to meet Flynn.

“I got my driver’s license today, Luke. Just like we talked about.” Julie said softly, leaning back onto the headboard of her bed. A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another one, and another one, until they were flowing freely.

“I drove through the suburbs, and I pictured I was driving home to you.” She said, hoping he could hear her somehow. “I saw the sidewalks we crossed. I still hear your voice in the traffic.” 

She could still see the boys in her room, poking around in her dream box and looking at all her pictures. She could still hear Reggie’s laugh, still see Alex’s pacing, still feel Luke’s hands on her cheeks that last moment before he left her.

“Forever, Luke. You said forever.”

Julie let her head fall to the side as the tears slowed and spotted a familiar notebook next to her dream box. She wiped the last of her tears away, got up off her bed, standing on shaky legs, and got up on her toes to reach it. As Julie walked back to her bed, she opened it, almost scared of what she would see in it.

The songbook was filled to the brim; songs, poems, and miscellaneous thoughts, lyrics, and melody snippets. Julie’s smile grew every time she came across a Julie and the Phantoms song or Trevor Wilson song, but when she got to the most recent page, her smile fell.

It wasn’t a full song. It was just a title, melody, and a few lyrics, but she swore her heart stopped when she read what was scrawled across the top of the page in what was unmistakably Luke’s handwriting.

My Star.

It’s what he used to call her. A star. His star.

She sat there, holding that journal in shock, for what felt like centuries, before her brother’s voice sliced through her thoughts.

“Julie!” Carlos called from downstairs.

“Yeah?” Julie yelled back after a moment.

“Dinner!” Her little brother responded.

“Okay! Be there in a sec’!” Julie said before going back to the songbook.

She looked at that title again, needing to know it was real. Once Julie could confirm she wasn’t seeing what she wanted, she scrambled to read the few lyrics he had written, desperate to feel like he was still there. “I know we’re not perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one. And I just can’t imagine how I’ll be okay once I’m gone.” Twenty-six words. He had written a measly twenty-six words, but it was more than she needed. Julie fumbled around on her bedside table for a pencil, the lyrics flowing from her like water in a stream. All she had to do was imagine his face, his eyes, his smile, the way he acted with the other boys, and she was filled with inspiration. Julie remembered the looks they shared while performing, the way she felt after he came to visit her at school, the way she felt that night outside the café and soon she had a new song. 

It was a sad song, a heartbroken song, but it was the last song she’d ever write with Luke. Her Luke.

Even when he was gone they made each other better.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #jatp fic #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #palina #alex mercer #reggie peters #angst #olivia rodrigo #drivers license

[just-jordie-things]

Love Letter - Richie Tozier

word count: 12,440 (I got really carried away) warnings: swearing request: @oceanspray5: Hi! Can you write a hc or (even better) a fic for Richie x fem!Reader (only if you want to of course) where he is deeply in love with her. She's sweet and nice but evryone says he's bad for her cuz he's a trashmouth so he would only corrupt her. Cue Richie leaving secret notes and flowers from the quarry in her locker as an outlet to try and rid himself of his heartache/feelings, not expecting anything in return, until one day she accidently finds out and it's happy ending of course. Thank you! summary: When Ben tells Richie that the best thing to help with his feelings for (y/n) is to write her a love letter, the trashmouth never expected it to turn into a full on secret admirer thing.

___

A simple note.  That’s all he had to do, all he had to write.  He could pour out everything he was feeling into one little letter, slip it into her locker, and get it over with.

Ben said that’s how easy it was! He’d told him that as long as he was honest, and spilled his very heart out onto the paper, then his heart wouldn’t go so crazy around her anymore.  He wouldn’t feel like he was suffocating as she filled every one of his senses.

However, now that he’s looking at this letter, this heartfelt letter, and probably the most sincere thing he’s ever written, he didn’t feel all that much better.

So right away, he picked up the phone and called Ben.

“Hi, Richie-”

“Yeah hey, what the fuck is this shit?” Richie jumped right into it, before Ben could even really say hello.  “You said this would help!”

“Are you talking about the letter?” Ben asked hopefully.

Richie rolled his eyes.

“No.  I’m talking about fucking smoking crack- yes I’m talking about the letter.  You told me that once I wrote it, it would be off my chest and I wouldn’t have to think about her anymore?”

Ben was silent on the other end for a moment, and Richie tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

“What do you mean?” He finally asked.

“What do I- Ben!” Richie screeched into the phone, “I said that I needed to stop thinking about (y/n) all the time, because I was starting to act like an idiot in front of her, remember?”

“Right, because you’re in love with her” Ben said in agreement.

“Yeah, whatever, my point is I wrote the goddamn letter and it hasn’t helped”

“Well, what do you mean it hasn’t helped?”

“I mean I’m still fucking thinking about her!” Richie yelled again.

“Can you stop yelling?  It hurts my ear,” Ben muttered.  “But you're doing something wrong, writing her a little love note isn’t supposed to get rid of your own feelings”

“But that’s what I-!”

“I don’t get why you want to stop liking her, (y/n’s) awesome,” Ben cut him off.  “What you should do is give her your letter”

Richie almost had a heart attack.  He really thought he was going to spasm and then drop dead on his bedroom floor.

“What, the, fuck?”

“Yeah,” Ben responds, and Richie can only assume that he’s shrugging his shoulders.  “After I gave Bev my poem, I felt way better! Just knowing that she know how I feel-”

“What the hell? She doesn’t even know it’s from you!” Richie shrieks.

It’s silent again.

“Sorry for yelling” Richie mumbled.

“Thanks,” Ben answers.  “But you don’t have to tell her that it’s you.  It still feels good to know that she knows someone really likes her.  Just give her it, you’ll know what I mean”

“How do I give it to her without her knowing it was from me?”

“I dunno.  Slip it in her locker?”

Richie mulls it over for a moment, thinking about how he could put a letter like this in her locker when she’s not around.  He decides that no one can be around, he doesn’t want a single person on this planet to know that he’s done this.  Besides Ben, he supposes.

“You sure it’ll help?”

“Yeah” Ben replies, but it’s unenthusiastic, and not convincing at all.

Richie thinks he might just have to take the chance anyways, because if he holds onto all these feelings any longer, he might just explode, and that doesn’t seem like a good idea. ___

That’s how Richie finds himself sneaking into the hall the next day at school.  He’d asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class, when he knew the halls would be empty, and it would be the prime time to put his letter in (y/n’s) locker.

His plan worked.

There was no one around, and he slipped the folded paper in between the vents of her locker.

Luckily, he met her at her locker every day after school, so he knew exactly which one was hers.  And as soon as the paper disappeared and fluttered into the locker, he felt the weight lift off his shoulders.

Ben was right.  This was exactly what I needed.  

He lingered there at her locker for a minute, feeling more relaxed than ever.  And (y/n) hadn’t even read it yet.  This was going to be perfect.

Maybe she’d wonder who it was for a couple days, maybe even for a week.  But eventually she’ll get over it, and Richie hoped he could get over his feelings for her too.

Then they could go back to being friends, and he wouldn’t feel so awkward all the time.  Perfect. ___

“Do you know anything about this?”

Beverly turned to (y/n), blowing a rather large bubble of bubblegum as she glanced at the paper in her friend’s hands.  Shrugging, she shook her head, and her bubblegum popped.

“Nope” She answered.

(y/n) let out a short sound of disappointment as she looked back at the paper.  It had been stuffed haphazardly in her locker, and as soon as she’d put in the combination and opened the door, it had fluttered down to her feet.

It was exciting at first, from the moment she opened it, she hung onto every word spilled out on the page.  It was definitely the grandest gesture anyone had ever done for her, not to mention the most romantic thing she’d ever read.  And to know that someone had written this for her, it made her heart pound in her ears, and her whole face had turned pink.

She read it over three times, before gathering her things for her next class, and racing off.  She’d hoped, she’d crossed her fingers that Beverly knew who the boy was that had forgotten to sign his name.

She even said a little prayer in hopes that it was the boy she wished.

But if Beverly didn’t know about this note, then she probably didn’t know who it was from.

“What’s wrong?” The red haired girl asked, realizing that (y/n) had deflated in her seat.

“Oh, nothing, I just…”

“You want it to be from someone, don’t you?” Beverly asked, a smirk spreading across her lips.

She’s been friends with (y/n) for years now, and knew exactly what that longing look on her face meant.

“Well, maybe,” The girl admitted softly.  “But it’s just so… carefully written, you know? I just feel like… like whoever wrote it should tell me”

“It is odd that it’s not signed,”

Beverly furrowed her brows, eyes skimming over the page skeptically.  Her mind drifted to the beautiful poem she’d gotten on a postcard a couple years ago, and how that hadn’t been signed either.

“That means they don’t want you to know who it’s from”

“But I’m dying to know, Bev”

“Yeah, well, unless you want to interrogate the whole school, you’ll just have to accept it”

(y/n) frowned.

“That’s horrible advice”

Beverly laughed, and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Or you could always do a little investigating.  Match up the handwriting, see if there’s anyone who talks to you like that,” She suggested, gesturing to the paper.  “Wanna talk after school? Maybe flip through the yearbook and look at possible candidates?”

“Sure,” (y/n) lets out a small laugh at the idea.  “Making lists always helps”

Of course, Beverly knew that.

“Great, I’ll call you after I finish this essay I’ve been putting off?” The redhead asked.

(y/n) nodded in agreement, thinking this was probably the next best idea they had.

She read through the note one more time, before carefully folding it back up by it’s original creases, and tucking it carefully into her bag.  Class was going to start soon, she’d have to put off her investigation for another time. ___

Richie Tozier always met (y/n) at her locker at the end of the day.  Mostly because it was the only time none of their other friends could drag her away from him.  They had a tendency to want to put distance between the two.

Stan and Eddie had told (y/n) time and time again that she shouldn’t get too ‘exposed’ to Richie because he was such a trashmouth.  She didn’t get it, and ignored their stupid warnings anyways.  She was a big girl, she could make decisions for herself.

Besides, whenever she’d get to her locker to find Richie leaning against it, her knees got weak, and her heart would soar.

“Hello, Tozier” She greeted with a wide smile, one that she didn’t even bother to try taming.

“G’afternoon, m’lady” He responds in a dumb and not too great accent, but she laughs anyways as she spins in her locker combo.

Richie’s tapping his foot, staring at her anxiously.  The good feeling he’d had earlier today getting eaten up by his nerves.  What if she knew?

“Hey, are you doing anything?” She asks him, glancing up at him as she puts her books away.

“Besides standing here and breathing? I guess not” He retorts.

Jesus fucking christ that was the most embarassing thing you’ve ever said, what are you? A dad? Because that was a dad joke you dumb fuck-

“I mean after school,” (y/n) giggles, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and shutting her locker.  “I want a slushie”

“And I’m the only fella in the land that you want to accompany you?” He asks.

He mentally face-palms again.

For fucks sake would you get it together?

But again, she laughs, and nods her head.

“Sure, something like that,” She tells him.  “Wanna go?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely”

They walk side by side out of school and into town.  Normally they’d go to the quarry together to meet the others, but pretty much everyone had something going on, and couldn’t make it.

Some of Richie’s nerves had calmed, but he still found himself tapping at his leg when it would get silent between them.

She had a way of easing his nerves, but still making his heart pound like it was trying to get out of his chest.

(y/n) looked over to him, and leaned over to bump her side against his, bringing him out of his stupor.

“You sure are quiet today, Trashmouth,” She commented.  “Somethin’ on your mind?”

“No, I just like hearing you run your mouth” He replied, hoping that she brushed his awkwardness as just him teasing.

She rolled her eyes back at him, but a smile curled on her lips.

“You’re funny,” She says nonchalantly.  “I didn’t mean to talk so much”

“No really, you ramble a lot, it’s hilarious and adorable”

Her face got hot immediately after the word left his mouth, and so did Richie’s, but he did his best to hide it.

They get to 7-Eleven not too long after, and finally Richie seems to be his usual self.

He mixes a bunch of slushie flavors together, like an animal, and (y/n) can’t help but stick her tongue out as she watches him mix blueberry, cherry, orange, and lemon lime.

“What’s your problem?” Richie asks, adding banana slushie until it’s reached the top of his cup.

(y/n) shakes her head and scrunches up her nose in mock disgust at the action.

“How can you drink that?” She asks, filling her own cup with her usual cherry and blueberry mix.  The way you were supposed to drink them.

“I like to live dangerously, toots” Richie replied with a wink that made her roll her eyes affectionately.

He brought his cup to the counter, giving the clerk the money for it and then some to cover (y/n’s).  Just as she’d walked up to the register, sipping on her perfectly mixed drink, Richie was already grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the store.

“But I have to-”

“I already paid,” He told her, and cut her off just as she opened her mouth to protest.  “Too late now, it’s already paid for, now come on”

She made a face, because she did not need him to do that, but it was still kind, so she thanked him quietly and followed behind him as they went outside.

They sat on the curb, setting their bookbags down and enjoying their cold drinks.

“It’s weird that we don’t hang out” (y/n) said, and Richie looked over to her, but she was staring down at her cup.

“Yeah,” He agreed.  “But it’d be pretty humiliating to be murdered by Eddie, so…”

She laughs, but it’s half-hearted.

“Still…” She trails off, and dares a glance over to him.  “We should just hang out anyways” Her eyes can’t meet his as she speaks, too bashful, but she waits for him to respond.

Richie gives her a wide grin, and when he chuckles, she finally looks up at him.

“How devious of you, breaking rules and shit” He says before sipping on his horrible concoction of flavors that shouldn’t taste good together.

“It’s not a rule,” She says, scolding him just a bit.  “It’s just… I don’t want to upset my friends, our friends,” She says carefully, and then peeks up at him nervously.  “But… you’re my friend too you know”

Somehow she did that thing again.  Where his heart skyrockets, and then crashes so hard in his gut he thinks it might make him barf.

That might be his slushie talking, though.

“Yeah, I know,” Richie responds, staring downwards so he didn’t have to see her expression.  “You’re my friend too”

A small smile quirks on her lips, and then she scoots closer to him, setting her drink down to grab her bag.

“As my friend, would you like to help me on a very top secret investigation?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at him excitedly before opening her backpack, and rummaging in it.

“I want to ask more questions but how can I say no to an invitation like- oh fuck”

She pulls out a folded piece of paper that Richie recognizes instantly, he almost spits out orange flavor from his nose, but he’s quick to swallow and sets his cup down.

As (y/n) excitedly hands him the opened note, he grabs at it frantically, eyes scanning over the words he thought he’d memorized.  He hadn’t, apparently, because reading it now made his gut wrench and he wished he had just gotten a plain cherry slushie.

“Isn’t that fucking awesome?” (y/n) squeals, latching onto his arm with both hands, and reading along with him.

Richie’s eyes probably scanned over the paper four times before he finally reacted.

“Holy shit, toots,” He mumbled.  “You’ve got someone whipped”

She blinked at him, her smile still on her face, even though with every passing second, she was confirming her worst thought.  

It wasn’t Richie.

A part of her heart longed for him to say ‘to be honest… I wrote you this’.  But the longer Richie stared at it, analyzing the text, the harder reality struck her.  It couldn’t be him.

When he handed her the note back, she frowned for a moment, but just as quickly plastered on a smile.

“Something wrong with it?” Richie asked, a bit too impulsive, but he caught her look and freaked out at the thought that she was disappointed in it.

“No, actually, it’s entirely perfect,” She admitted softly, holding onto the edges of the paper as not to put a single crinkle in it.  “But Bev says that whoever did write it, had no intention of coming forward”

“Well, yeah, isn’t that the point?” Richie asked.

“The point?” (y/n) repeated unsurely.

“Yeah, that now you know someone out there… loves you… that much”

He cringed at his words, but (y/n) stared up at him, waiting for more of an explanation.

“I don’t understand,” She told him.  “If I loved someone that much… I think that it would be very difficult for me to hide that,”

She wasn’t wrong, but Richie almost shivered as a chill went down his spine.

“I mean, wouldn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t I what?” He asked, too lost in thought to focus on her words.

“Well, think of it from my perspective,” (y/n) angled her body towards his as she spoke.  “If you’d gotten a note like this, wouldn’t you expect someone to come out and just- I don’t know, profess their love to you? It feels like a pretty grand gesture to me,”

Richie contemplates it for a moment.  He thinks about declaring his love for her, loudly, in front of the whole school, the whole world, and just pouring his heart out in ways he couldn’t have done on paper.  Telling her every beautiful thing about her that he loves, every wonderful thing that has changed his life, and his view on what it truly means to be alive-

“I’m daydreaming way too much,” (y/n) draws him back from his thoughts with a short laugh and a shake of her head.  “Wow, I really thought I was in a romance novel for a second there”

She laughs again, but Richie can barely hold a smile.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” He says, picking up his slushie.  “And I think it’s normal for you to want to… um… know who wrote it”

She gives him a sad sort of smile, and finally lets go of his arm so she can grab hold of her own slushie.

“I don’t think I’m gonna figure it out,” She sighs.  “But if you hear anything, you’d tell me, right?”

“Absolutely,” Richie answers without hesitation, and the smile that takes over her lips is genuine this time.  “Trade?” He asks, holding out his slushie for her.

Her nose crinkles again, but she curiously leans over to take a sip from his straw.

After swallowing, she smacks her lips, tasting the remnants of the strange flavor.

“Okay.  It’s not that bad” She admits, and Richie beams at her victoriously before drinking from her own plain slushie.

“I knew you’d like it, toots”

They hang out on the curbside until their slushies are gone, and then Richie walks her home.

She does an odd thing as she says goodbye though, something she’s never done before anyways.

She hugs him.

It’s quick, and he doesn’t even have the time to reciprocate the action before she’s pulling away, smiling as she waves, and heads inside.

It’s simple, but he thinks about it over and over as he walks home. ___

(y/n),

I want to keep this simple, because honestly if I get too into it I think I’ll keep writing until there’s no more paper in the world.  Or at least no more paper that I have.

So, I’m in love with you, take that as you will, but writing it has been surreal, let alone feeling it for the last year or so.  I just wanted to let you know, because it’s been weighing on me for a while now, and I think I’m going to die soon from feeling it all the time.

And it’s not artificial either, it’s real love, and I’ve felt it long enough now to know that it's a complete and total infatuation I have for you, I’m not just romanticizing what we have.  Which isn’t much to begin with.  But still, I love you.

I thought you deserved to know.  It doesn’t feel fair to you, for me to have this all-consuming feeling and not let you know, even though it concerns you.  I think you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met, and the greatest one I ever will meet, and I think that you deserve to be loved like this, the way I love you.

Yours,

Empty.

(y/n) stared at that spot like if she waited long enough, a name would appear.  Of course, after ten minutes of laying in bed and staring, nothing happened.

Besides the sudden spikes in her heartbeat of course.

But she’d figure it out eventually.  Even if it took the rest of the year, hell, even if it took the rest of her life, she was committed to finding the author. ___

Richie woke up earlier than usual the next morning.  Maybe because he couldn’t sleep, maybe because all he thought about was (y/n) and the fact that he’d poured his heart out to her, and she didn’t even know it.

And he was just dying to do it again.

It may have been too early to go to school, but he got himself ready and left the house anyways.

He decided that it was a good idea to collect flowers on his walk to school, stalling and plucking any of the prettiest ones he could find.

Dandelions are weeds, Richie, his mother’s voice scolded in his head, but he pushed the thought away.

By the time he made it to school, he had quite an abundance of dandelions, clovers, bluebells, and some tiny purple flower that he knew she’d think was pretty.

He was pretty proud that he was able to tie the tiny bouquet with a broken dandelion stem.  And he thought that (y/n) would find it cute too.  She was always picking dandelions and cattails and other strange plants from the quarry, either placing them in Bev’s hair, or fashioning them together in a crown.

Once he’d made it to the school, he had just enough time to stick the flowers carefully into the vents of (y/n’s) locker, so that they would stay in place without falling. ___

(y/n) almost squealed with delight when she’d found the gift at her locker this morning.  Beverly had to remind her that it was too early in the day for such high pitched sounds.

“But they’re so cute” (y/n) murmured.

“So is this a regular thing then?” Beverly asked, drawing (y/n) out of the trance she appeared to be in while staring at the flowers.  “You know, the notes and flowers and… shit”

(y/n’s) brows furrowed, but Beverly just smirked back at her.

“I hope so,” She answered.  “I mean, it should be easier to figure out who it is that way, right? They’ve got to slip up at some point”

“I guess that makes sense,” Beverly shrugs.  “Hey, how come you didn't call me yesterday? I thought we were gonna flip through yearbooks and list the options?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” (y/n) exclaimed.  “I completely forgot, I just got caught up with…”

“With what?” Beverly asked.

(y/n) glanced around the busy halls, making sure that Stan or Eddie was nowhere around.

“Okay, don’t tell the others… but Richie and I hung out yesterday” (y/n) admitted, a bit more shy than she needed to be.  

Her cheeks turned pink, and she had to bite back a grin.  The action only made Bev’s smirk widen.

“Oh did you?” She mused, crossing her arms and leaning against the locker next to (y/n’s).

“Yeah,” (y/n) mumbled, almost dreamily.  “We got slushies”

“Well isn’t that just romantic?”

“What? No- no it wasn’t like- no no no-”

“You’re stammering,” Beverly laughs.  “Besides, I already knew you had a thing for him”

“What-!?” (y/n) hissed, but it didn’t matter, because Bev just shook her head.

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious.  But anyways, how was it? Did you show him the note?”

“I did…” She said through a small huff.  “ANd um, it wasn’t from him”

“Oh” Beverly said with the same disappointment.

“But that’s okay, it’s Richie, he would never do something like that,” (y/n) brushed it off with an awkward laugh.  “Besides, you know how Stan and Eddie are, always trying to keep me away from him”

Beverly rolled her eyes, but she could tell that she’d hoped Richie had been behind all this, so she tried to move past the sensitive subject.

“Speaking of those idiot boys, we better get to class” ___

The next day, (y/n) found another small string of flowers tucked into the vents of her locker.

And the day after that, multiple small bouquets.

And the day after that, her locker was blanketed in dandelion and lilac heads, taped carefully to cover the whole door.  She probably gawked at it for five minutes before putting in her combination as delicately as possible, not wanting to make any of the pretty decorations fall off.

“Wow,”

The voice made her jump, and she swiveled around to see Richie grinning at the current state of her locker.

“That’s… a lot” He said, it was all he could think to say.

“Yeah,” (y/n) answered bashfully, letting out a soft giggle.  “Whoever did this must have come to school really early,” She mumbled, mostly to herself.

Maybe that’s how she’d get him, and it dawned on her, that it was the only possible solution.

Her eyes noticeably widened as her jaw dropped open at the realization.

“Oh my god, Richie, you’re a genius”

“Um-”

“Before school, they’ve got to do all this before school! In the morning!”

She grabs his shoulders and shakes him excitedly without thinking.  The poor boy looks so confused, and worried, but he gives her the best smile he can manage.  It’s not pretty.

“You want to come with me?” She asks him.

She looks so hopeful, her eyes are bright and she’s pushing her lips together to keep from smiling too wide, but Richie can tell she wants to.

Well.  Fuck.

“Want to, um, what-?”

“Want to catch him with me?” She asks, trying to talk quietly, but the eagerness in her voice makes it go up a couple octaves.

He thinks she looks like a six year old on christmas morning.  And how is he supposed to say no to her?

“Sure,” He says, and it takes a lot for him not to let out a sigh as he agrees.  “How early though? Because I like to sleep until I absolutely have to-”

“Thank you, Richie!” (y/n’s) enthusiasm was bubbling over the top, as she practically jumped up to kiss his cheek, before grabbing her things to head off to class.  

He’s stunned to frozenness, of course, by the quick action.

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight to talk about the morning!” She calls after him, and waves goodbye as she makes her way down the hall.

Even when the bell rings, he’s still standing there, the spot on his face where her lips had brushed burning hot on his skin.

But the sweet moment is quickly washed away as he realizes what he just agreed to. ___

Richie isn’t surprised to hear (y/n’s) voice as soon as he picked up his phone that night.  It was late, far too late for him to be up and talking on the phone, but he’d keep his voice down so his parents wouldn’t wake up.

Luckily, he had his own extension in his room.

“Alright toots, what’s your plan?” He asked, sitting back on his bed while she began her rambling.

“Okay, I’ve thought it out perfectly,” She starts, and he expected no less.  “The perfect hiding spot- and stay with me here- is the girl’s bathroom across the hall from my-”

“Yeah, no,” Richie disagreed right away.  “I’m not going in the girl’s bathroom, I’m not that much of a perv”

“It’s not pervy!” She argued.  “No one else will be there, it’s fine.  Now hush and listen,”

Richie rolls his eyes, but manages to keep quiet so she can continue explaining her plan.

“I say we hide out there for half an hour, and catch him in the act!”

The boy can’t help with wince, feeling guilty, since she won’t be catching anybody.

“Alright then,” He exhales.  “You’re telling me I have to get up at 6:30?”

“No, I’m telling you we have to be there at 6:30,” She corrects him politely.  “You should probably get up around-”

“Why don’t you swing by here on your way, and then we’ll just go together,” Richie suggests.  “Just ring the doorbell, and I’ll wake up, and we’ll go”

“Richie, that won’t be nearly enough time-”

“Trust me toots, it’s plenty of time,” He cuts her off, and she’s quiet on the other end of the line.  “Well, I best be getting to sleep since you’re getting me up so early for this scheme of yours”

“It’s not a scheme, Tozier, it’s a plan!”

“It’s a scheme”

“Plan!”

“G’night toots” Richie laughs, and he can hear her mumbling in frustration.

“Goodnight” She answers, and then hangs up the line.

Almost as soon as he puts the phone down, Richie’s confidence disappears, and anxiety strikes him again.  

He really was going to kill Ben for getting him into all this.  It was way out of hand.

Although he supposed he could’ve just written the note and left it… but he liked getting the flowers for her, he liked seeing her face light up in the mornings when she’d find them.

He needed a plan of his own. ___

The following morning, (y/n) had been at Richie’s door at 6:15 sharp, giving them just enough time to walk to school… and then some because she figured Richie wouldn’t be out of bed and ready to go as he thought he would be.

And he wasn’t.

He was a slow morning person too.  Even just changing took him way too long.  But eventually he dragged himself out of the house, his backpack barely hanging on one of his shoulders as the pair walked to school together.

“Whatcha starin’ for?” He mumbles out, before yawning.

He didn’t have to get up this early before now.  (y/n) really was dedicated to this mystery.

She’d been trying not to laugh as she looked at him.  His hair disheveled, he’d probably haphazardly combed through it, the curls poking every which way.  He’d hardly been able to put on sweats and a tee shirt, with a jacket loosely thrown over it to keep warm.  It appeared he’d started to zip it up but gave up before he even reached halfway and left the house.

Even his glasses sat crooked on his face.

“You, you dork,” (y/n) laughs, and grabs his arm to stop him for a moment.  “Do you look at yourself before you leave the house?” She asks as she zips his jacket up for him, and then adjusts his glasses to fit properly over his nose.

“Sorry we don’t all wake up hours early to pick out an outfit and do our makeup” He teases back, before playfully swatting her hands off him.

(y/n) rolls her eyes.

“I picked out my clothes the night before, dummy,” She tells him, matter of factly.  “And I don’t wear makeup”

Richie’s brows furrow, and his nose scrunches up.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” She laughs back at him.  “Now wake up more! This morning is important”

“Right right, I’ll work on that”

But you see, Richie hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in four days now.  He’d be up all night thinking about (y/n), and then get up early to enact his plan of the day for her locker.  He couldn't have gotten more than six hours the past few nights.

So by the time they got to the school, he was already done for the day, and it wasn’t even 6:30 in the morning yet.

He followed sluggishly next to (y/n), who had never been more wide awake and perky in her whole life.  And once they reached the girl’s bathroom, he nearly collapsed onto the tiled floor.

It was a good thing that the entrance to the bathroom itself didn’t have doors- a choice made by the principal, who thought that it would help them detect if anyone were smoking in the stalls.  

(The students had long ago figured out how to crack the windows so they could just smoke out of there, but in this case, (y/n) was glad that there was an opening to the hall to spy through)

The pair sat just inside of the bathroom, across from each other.  (y/n) was leaning against the space next to the entrance, where she could easily peek her head around the corner and see her flower covered locker.  Richie sat against the brick panel just across from her, which acted as a barrier to see the bathroom from the outside.

It was just then that (y/n) realized how ridiculous her school’s plan to combat underage smoking really was.  Especially as Richie pulled out a cigarette and lit it right then.

“Richie!” She scolded in a hiss, but he shrugged innocently.

“There’s no one else here” Was his answer, and she didn’t argue it any further.

She didn’t care much, she was far too excited about the events this morning was going to unfold.  Richie, however, slumped further against the wall, about to fall asleep with his cigarette still in his mouth.

“Oh, I brought snacks,” (y/n) told him, pulling her backpack around, and opening it up to dig for what she packed.  “I knew you wouldn’t eat before we left.  And in every cop movie, they eat during the stakeout”

He thinks that his heart might explode, because never before had he heard the simplest of things sound so cute.

As she pulls out two jumbo oatmeal cream pies, which are the perfect substitute for breakfast, his eyes catch a small plastic bag inside her backpack.

“You kept all those?” He asks, recognizing the flowers sealed inside.

“Oh, yeah,” (y/n) answers, adjusting the small bag so the flowers wouldn’t get crushed.  “I thought they were pretty” She told him, before shrugging a shoulder.

Richie watches her while she’s focused on these flowers, these weeds that he’d gotten for her.  There was a small smile on her face as she examined them, even though they were dying, and there was a pile of petals at the bottom of the bag.  But still she’d kept them.

“What are you gonna do when you find him, anyway?” Richie asked, and right away she put the flowers away and zipped up her backpack.

“I guess get to know him,” She answers, but she sounds unsure.

They simultaneously open their plastic wrapped breakfast cakes.

“Go on dates, I have to give him a chance, don’t I?”

“You say that like you don’t want to” Richie chuckles, eating in between puffs of a cigarette.

“I do,” She tells him, but it’s faint.  “I do, it’s just… I don’t know what to expect,”

Richie only hums, because he doesn’t know what to say to her.  There’s nothing he could say, or so he thinks.  

“Can I be honest?”

“I’m sittin’ here either way, toots” He teases back.

“A part of me doesn’t really want to know” She admits, and takes a rather large bite of her breakfast snack.

“What? Why?” Richie asks.

“Um, well,” She sighs through a mouthful of food.  “I’m nervous”

You have no idea the amount of anxiety I’ve been through this week, Richie thinks, but he nods his head in understanding.

“You don’t think it’s gonna be who you want it to?” He asks, and she chuckles humorlessly.

“I know it’s not who I want it to be,” She says, which only confuses him more.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to give whoever it is a chance, it’s only fair, he’s done nothing but- but shower me in all these flowers and this declaration of love, you know?”

Richie nods, but it’s a very small movement.

He’s forgotten both his breakfast and his smoke in his hands as he stares at her, hanging onto every word she spoke.

“Yeah, I know” He agrees quietly.

(y/n’s) quiet as she continues to eat, the gears in her head turning almost as fast as her heart is beating.  Richie can almost see her processing through every boy in school, and wondering if any of them could be the one.

He wondered if he crossed her mind when she went through this mental list.

“Hey,” Richie whispered, and kicked at her foot.  “Someone’s coming down the hall”

Her expression changed in a split second, and she wiggled with excitement, before peeking out the doorway to see who was coming.

Richie felt his gut churning, he thought it might just be mush by the time this was over.

Her anticipation grew and grew as the footsteps got closer, and just when the person rounded the corner, all that came to mind was oh?

Bill Denbrough walked right up to her locker, slipped a piece of paper in the vents, did a scan to make sure no one was around, and then walked away.

And that was it.

She physically deflated in front of him, and he could see the disappointment coming off her in waves.

There was a furrow in her brows, and her grin fell to a slight frown.  Even her eyes had a sadness and a confusion to them that Richie’s never seen before.

“Bill?” She mumbled, mostly to herself.  “Bill Denbrough?”

Richie didn’t say anything, the guilt he was feeling eating at him from the inside.

(y/n’s) eyes meet his, but still, he’s silent.  She takes his contorted expression as confusion and she shakes her head a bit.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She continues to mumbles, slowly taking bites out of her oatmeal cream pie.  “Bill? Bill’s my friend”

“Well- do you- do you want to go talk to him?” Richie asks, but it does nothing to ease her perplexed state.

“Um…”

It’s all she says.

She peeks around the doorway again, watching Bill as he walks down the hall, probably towards his first class.  The buses would arrive in a few minutes, and classes would start not too long after.

“(y/n)?” Richie asks, starting to feel even worse.  “Are you alright?”

“I- yeah” She stammers back, which proves she’s lying through her teeth.

“Are you sure?” Richie asks, and the look she gives him pretty much assures him that he’s going straight to hell when he dies.

She just looks so disappointed, lost and confused, and Richie didn’t think that unless Bowers himself had been at her locker, then she wouldn’t have been let down.

Clearly, this was worse.

All she does is nod her head, and toss the rest of her treat in the trash.

“(y/n)-”

“I’m gonna go to class,” She tells him, quiet, and shaky.  “I- I’ll see you after school?”

She glances at him as she grabs her bag and waits at the doorway, and Richie nods his head back at her.

And then she takes off.

Richie wished that some greater force would just kill him now. ___

“I’ve got a question for you, Big Bill,”

Beverly sits down at the lunch table, and just from the look on her face, the boys are already nervous about how this conversation is going to end.

The redhead crosses her legs before leaning over the lunch table, staring at Bill almost threateningly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Wh-what?” The boy stuttered back helplessly.

“(y/n) told me today that her little secret admirer…  was you,” She said, eyes narrowing.  “But… that doesn’t make any sense”

Bill cast a quick glance to Richie, but he kept his eyes trained on his food, which he was only poking at.

“W-well, I-”

“Because,” Beverly continued to explain herself, “I know that you don’t like her, not like that, not in the way her little note says”

“B-Bev I-”

“So,” The redhead cuts him off again, “Either you thought this was a funny joke, and I’ll kick your ass.  Or, someone put you up to it”

The others at the table are on the edge of their seats, eager to see what happens next.

Besides Richie, who is still moping.

Ben, however, was probably the most excited one to see where this went.  Seeing as he knew that Richie was the true writer of the notes, and he’d been the one to pick the flowers.  And he realized that Richie must have asked Bill to do his dirty work, to throw off (y/n).  But Richie could not have anticipated this chain reaction.

(y/n) herself didn't even come to the cafeteria for lunch today.  She’d made plans with a teacher for an extra credit assignment just to get out of seeing Bill.  She’d told Bev about this morning, and then went on to try and find a way out of every class she had with Bill.  Not because she was upset with him- she could never, Bill was one of her best friends- but because she didn’t want to make it more awkward than it already was.

“I- I wasn’t tr-trying to hurt h-her,” Bill said.  “I w-was just-”

“Then who is it?” Beverly asked.  “Someone must have told you to do it, who?”

Richie hated that she was too smart for her own good.

“I- I can’t t-tell you,” Bill huffed.  “I-I p-promised”

“Uh-huh, look, (y/n’s) my best friend, and you’re gonna have to tell me, so spit it out”

“I p-promised”

“I don’t give a shit, just spill-”

“It was me”

It only took three words for the attention of the whole table to focus on Richie.  And usually when he opened his mouth, the others had a knack for completely shutting him out.

If he thought Beverly was upset before, oh boy, this was an unfiltered rage she’d just tapped into.

“What?” Her voice was low, and pissed.

“Yeah” RIchie shrugged.

“You did what?” Stan shrieked, but Richie ignored him, still staring straight at Beverly.

“Where the hell do you get off? Do you think this shit’s funny-?”

“It wasn’t a joke,” Richie said, calmly, and the red in Bev’s cheeks started to fade out.  “It was real, I wrote that note for real, and I wanted to give her all the flowers and stuff”

Beverly blinked, completely baffled.

“You did what?” Stan repeated.

Richie just shrugged his shoulders, and went back to eating his lunch.

“You- but you-” Beverly shook her head, completely thrown off.  “You?” Was her final question, and it wasn’t much, but it was all that she could articulate.

“Yeah.  Me,” Richie responded.  “You gonna go tell her now?”

Beverly shook her head, surprising him.

“Really?” He asked.  “Two minutes ago you were gonna kill Bill-”

“You have to be the one to do it,” Bev told him.

Richie snorted.

“Right” He said sarcastically.

“No way” Stan interjected, but he was still being ignored.

“No, really,” Bev continued.  “Right now she thinks that her friend is into her-”

“I’m her friend too” Richie said with furrowed brows.

Beverly nodded her head from side to side.

“Eh, yeah, but…” She trailed off, because she couldn’t tell Richie that she knew (y/n) liked him.  “I feel like her knowing the truth is more important right now”

“Yeah, because I want to ruin the barely-friendship we have now” Richie rolls his eyes.

“Come on-”

“I’m not telling her” He deadpanned, before Beverly could try to convince him.

“Yeah, he’s not telling her” Stan chimed in, mouth full of pot pie.

“Not because of you, dingbat,” He muttered with a dirty look towards his friend.  “Because I like her, and I’d like to be friends with her”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Beverly said, finally opening up her lunch bag.  “I guarantee it’d be worth it if you just gave in”

Richie shook his head, and didn’t bother to argue with her anymore.  He doesn’t want to have to argue something so stupid, especially when this was something unchangeable.

He was in love with a girl he knew he didn’t deserve to have, and so he’d just have to live with it. ___

As he was waiting by her locker at the end of the day, Richie wondered if he’d be able to live with this, knowing that he’s maybe ruined her whole world- or at least just her friendship with Bill.

When she finally makes her way to her locker, she seems better than this morning, and offers him a kind smile as she reaches him.

Richie grins back at her, completely out of relief.

And then he hugs her.  She’s about to turn to put in her combination, and the action takes her by surprise, but she pats his back sweetly before he lets go.

“I’m really sorry about this morning,” He told her, and she tilts her head to the side a bit.  “I wasn’t- I was just tired and didn’t know how to act, I’m so sorr-”

“Richie, don’t be sorry,” (y/n) cuts off his babbling.  “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong”

She gives him a genuine look, a kind look, convincing him that there was no need for his guilt, and still, he felt like a piece of shit.

“Well, Bill, I mean, you guys are friends, and-”

“It’s no big deal Richie, I overreacted,” (y/n) shook her head, before putting in her combination to collect her things.  “I just wasn’t expecting him is all”

“Wh-who were you expecting?” Richie stammered out, and then cringed.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) hummed.  “Just… not him”

She puts her books away, and gathers what she’d need to do her homework tonight, before shutting her locker and looking up at him readily.

She notices the crease between his brows, and he seems very zoned out, because he’s just standing there, instead of heading out.

“Rich?” She asks, holding onto the straps of her backpack.  “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sorry, yeah” He nodded, and moved out of his stiff position to walk by her side down the hall.

She kicks his foot gently, not to trip him, just to tease.

“Stop with the apologizing,” She says with a small giggle.  “Hey, do you want to get slushies again?”

He looks down at her, but doesn’t really answer, just stares at her.

Her hair is in a messy bun resting at the back of her head, and more strands have fallen out than are still being held in the hair tie, but somehow it’s still perfect.  It’s a very (y/n) look.

She kicks at his foot again.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good” He finally snaps himself out of his daze.

“You okay upstairs?”  She asks him playfully.

“Are you asking me if I’m crazy?” Richie asks, just as they make their way out of the school, and down the front steps.

“No, never,” (y/n) laughs again.  “You just seem out of it..?” She speaks like it’s a suggestion, as though she’s asking him.

“You’re right, and I completely blame you for waking me up so early”

“Blame me?” (y/n) repeats.

“Yes! You were the one that made me wake up at the crack-of-fucking-dawn!” Richie retorts, whilst giggling because he can’t help it when he’s joking with her.

Somehow when he’s cracking jokes with the others, he always laughs loudly, his friends find it annoying.  But with (y/n), his boisterous laughs faded into childlike giggles.

“Well excuse me for being a romantic,” She said, playfully narrowing her eyes at him.  “I thought you would understand”

Richie’s brows crinkle, and he looks down at her with an amused smile.

“Me? You thought I’d understand?”

“Yes!” She answered enthusiastically.

“And what in the fuck makes you think I’m a romantic?” Richie asked with a snort, but he was starting to blush.

“Obviously because you bothered to come with me this morning,” (y/n) answered, a bright smile on her face.  “If you weren’t a romantic, then you wouldn’t have come”

“That doesn’t-”

“Awe Richie, you can admit it,”

He thinks his heart stopped in his chest, and he’s about to die.

“You wanted me to find loooove” She sing-songs the word, and it made him roll his eyes.

“Oh toots, you think far too highly of me” He tells her in his poor british accent.

“No, I don’t think so,” (y/n) shakes her head.  “I just think you don’t want to admit it.  You just wanna be the cool guy”

“So you think I’m romantic and cool?” He asks, and now she’s the one to roll her eyes, but it’s an affectionate action, and accompanied by a bright smile.

“Don’t be so full of yourself” She says, before sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m just repeating your words toots,” He responds.  “You flatter me”

She laughs, despite herself, and he beams back at her.

“Yeah, well, you’re also a dummy” She murmurs, but it doesn’t hinder Richie’s good mood.

He already knew that.  He just sure loved hearing those other things from her.

Once at the 7-Eleven, (y/n) made her same cherry and blueberry slushie, and then raced to the counter to pay for both of their drinks while Richie was too busy with making his terrible drink.

Just as he turned to head up to the register, he found her standing there, a smirk on her face while she sipped on her drink.

“You didn’t” He groaned, but she lifted a shoulder and gave him a knowing look.

“I did” She replied with a grin, and nodded her head for him to follow her outside.

“You’re the worst” He mutters as he sits next to her.

She hums, holding her slushie between her hands and giving him a shit eating grin.

“That’s fair,” She responds, poking his arm teasingly.  “And you should know that you’re also the worst”

“That’s fair,” He mimics, and taps his cup against hers.

They drink in silence for a bit, besides a few jokes from Richie here and there that he can’t help.  But eventually she just has to get it off her chest.

“So, did you know?” She asks him, nervously looking over to him.  “About Bill? Did he ever… say anything?”

Richie knows then that the mistake he’s made is catastrophic.

“Um, no, he didn’t” He said, which isn’t technically a lie.

But then again, if you have to argue that it’s not a lie… it definitely isn’t the right thing to say.

“Oh” She mumbles, and moves her straw around in her cup, mixing the red and blue flavors.

“He’s probably just shy,” Richie blurts out.  “You know, otherwise he would’ve just handed you all that stuff”

“I suppose,” She agrees in a mumble.  “It’s just odd, you know, since you’re his best friend”

“I mean, best friends don’t always share everything”

“That’s not true, there’s nothing I wouldn’t tell Bev,” (y/n) tells him sincerely.  “And even when I have hid things, she’s always figured it out anyways.  She’s always had a way of reading me,” She giggles softly as she reminisces on how good of a friend she has.  “Don’t you tell him everything?”

“Well- kind of,” Richie’s still stammering, as a result of him bending over backwards to keep his secret.  “I know that, um, well he’d do anything for me,” He says.  “And I’d do the same for him too”

“That’s what best friends are, aren’t they?” (y/n) asks, looking back at him again.  “Someone you can trust and put before anyone else in the world? Someone worth fighting for?”

“You’re cheesy,” Richie says with a nervous laugh.

He has to stop himself from tugging at his collar, because fuck, he felt like he might just overheat.

“But that’s a good thing!” He adds impulsively.

(y/n) smiles.

“Mostly I think they’re secret keepers” She hums.

“I can’t imagine you have that many secrets” Richie replies, and again, she smiles at him.

“You’d be surprised,” She says, so softly he thinks she’s trying to tell him one, but he doesn’t understand it.  “But no, there’s not many”

“Tell me one” He says before he could think of something more suave.

She glances over at him,and one of her eyebrows quirks up in surprise.

“And what makes you think you’re so deserving of one of my secrets?”

“I just dare you to” Richie says, and a smirk tugs on his lips because he’s a piece of shit like that, but it makes (y/n) laugh.

“Well, if you dare me to, I suppose I’m obligated then, hm?”

“You absolutely are toots,” He says.  “So, are you a man or mouse?”

“I’m but a humble girl,” She says in her best horrible british accent, leaning over to him dramatically.

She can’t contain her laughter, which makes it all the more adorable to him, and he gazes at her fondly while her hands pat against his arm softly.

“But if my deepest darkest secrets are the entertainment you seek, then that is the entertainment you shall receive” She continues in her accent.

Richie rubs his hands together in a maniacal fashion, and he scoots closer to her with anticipation.

A part of her is screaming to tell him how she feels, that’s probably her greatest secret after all.  But she looks at him and reminds herself just why she can’t.

It was too hard just to become friends, to get past the barrier that had been (and still is) Eddie and Stan’s disapproval, so a friendship is just what she’d have to accept right now.

“Well, this isn’t exactly a secret,” She sighs, “But I guess you don’t know, it’s kind of a secret from you”

Richie’s brows furrow, but his lips turn into a smile as her hands wring together nervously.

“And what could you possibly have to hide from me, toots?” He asks, his smile still stuck on his face.

Her fingers are still fiddling as she meets his eyes, and she licks her lips before taking in a deep breath.

“Well, so, um, so you know how Stan and Eddie are always being… well, I think they’re overprotective for some odd reason, but they used to always drag me away? Whenever I was around you?”

“Yeah?” Richie asked, wondering where the hell she could be going with this.

“Yeah, well…”

“Well what?” Richie asked, dying to know.  “You realized they had good reasons?”

“What? No!” (y/n) swatted at his arm.  “Of course not, just the opposite, actually”

“The opposite?”

“Yes…” She responded in a huff.  “They told me that they weren’t going to invite you to movie night one time, and I… maybe… yelled a little,”

Richie smirked, enjoying the image in his head of (y/n) chewing out Stan and Eddie.

“And… well, I told them that I wanted to be friends with you whether or not they were happy about it.  And maybe they still like to cover my ears whenever you talk, and they still talk shit, but I- I don’t care,”

She realizes she’s rambling, and her hands are moving around rapidly in front of her, and suddenly she pauses to collect herself, before looking at him.

“Anyways, that’s why I asked you to walk me home from school” She finishes softly.

“Wait,” Richie shakes his head, and his brows furrow.  “I thought you said that Bowers started following you?”

(y/n) gives him a sheepish smile, before shaking her head.

“Nope,” Her voice was barely a mumble.  “I tricked you into being friends with me”

Richie let out a scoff, before his lips pulled into a wide grin, and he nudged his shoulder down against hers.

“You sly little devil,” He teased, and he couldn’t miss the blush spreading over her cheeks.  “You deceived me?”

“Yep,” She shrugged.  “That’s how desperate I was” She adds with a shy laugh.

His heart is soaring, and for a minute, he forgot about the mess he’d gotten himself into.

“Well you must have been lonely seeing as you were looking for my friendship” He teased, but she shook her head at him.

“Don’t talk like that, you’re one of my closest friends, I love hanging out with you,”

Oh fuck, this girl will be the death of me.

“I don’t regret any of it, not at all” She adds sweetly.

And goddamnit, the look on her face is so sincere, so kind, and if he weren’t such a fool, he probably would have kissed her right then and there.

“You are a romantic,” He tells her instead, and her small smile widens.

Richie reaches his hand out, offering to take her empty cup to throw away.  She thanks him as she hands it to him, and watches him as he gets up and tosses it in the bin at the front doors.

When he comes back to her, he extends his hand again, but this time his silent offer is to help her stand.  She takes it, without hesitation, and he pulls her to her feet.

“Ready to go?” He asks, letting go of her hand after lingering for just one extra second.

(y/n) nods, adjusting her backpack as she walks with him in the direction of home.  She doesn’t ask him to walk her home, and he doesn’t offer, but they both know he is, because he always does.

They talk more, about anything they can think of, really.  School, their friends, random rumors going around that can’t be true but sure are fascinating to talk about.  They cover anything and everything- except for Bill, except for the notes and the flowers, and for the ten minutes it takes to get (y/n) home, Richie lives in a world where it doesn’t even exist.

It’s not until they reach her doorstep that he remembers.  Not by choice- but he can’t help but be reminded of it every time her eyes meet his.

“As always Tozier,” (y/n) sighs, her hands latching onto his wrists as she smiles up at him, “Thank you for walking me home”

He smiles back at her, but it isn’t his typical shit eating grin.  It’s small and soft, it’s loving.

“Every time, toots” He tells her sweetly.

There’s a small laugh that comes out of her in a breath, and she squeezes his wrists gently before letting go.

“See you tomorrow Rich” She says, and turns to her door.

He starts to go, but the further he gets the more of a weight he feels on his shoulders, to the point that he knows if he doesn’t turn around, he might collapse on her driveway.

So he does just that, he spins around, and walks back up to her.

“Wait, (y/n/n)?”

“Yeah?” She asks, blinking at him, waiting patiently for him to continue, which for some reason it’s taking him a moment to speak again.

“Do you want to walk to school together in the morning?”

Her head tilts just barely to the side at his odd and sudden request, but a smile blossoms on her lips, and she nods her head.

“Sure” She agrees delightedly.

“Okay,” He nods back at her, and some of his guilt washes away.  “I’ll pick you up this time”

“Okay,” She repeats.  “I’ll be waiting”

Again, he’s nodding, but it’s rapid and nervous and he can almost hear his own heart beating inside of his head.

“Okay, bye” He says, stepping back to leave this time.

But goddamn it he can’t do it, he can’t move, not a single muscle, he’s frozen there in front of her doorstep, nearly a statue, struck by anxiety and guilt and worst of all, love.

He can’t stop himself, the words tumble out before he even thinks about their consequences.

But this is what happens when it comes to (y/n), he can’t control his actions whatsoever.  His heart takes the wheel and does whatever the fuck it wants, and it wants (y/n) more than anything in the whole fucking world.

(Richie agrees with this, but he thinks maybe if his heart could dial it back a little, then he wouldn’t be so scared all the time, like he is right now)

“It was me” His heart speaks for him, without warning, without a plan.  It just wants to speak the words into existence.

Not just to his friends at the lunch table, that wasn’t enough.  It needed (y/n’s) own ears to hear.  Richie wanted (y/n) to hear.

“What?” She asks, turning around to face him.

Her question is genuine, she doesn’t understand what he’s referring to, but something about the look on his face, the one of sheer guilt from the short confession, tugged at her deep down.  And deep down, she knew exactly what he was telling her.

She could translate what he truly meant just from the way his eyebrows creased, and how he was chewing at the inside of his cheek, and grinding his teeth.

“All of it, everything, it was all me” He went on.

“Richie, what do you…?” She starts to question him, but as she stares back at him, her words fail her, and she can only let out a soft breath.

“I just- I wanted you to know the truth, and I didn’t want to fuck up your friendship with Bill, I’m sorry for that”

“He… he wasn’t…?”

Still, she’s slowly going mute, as she drops her bag to the ground, and rummages through it for the most recent gift, the note that she’d seen Bill put into her locker.

“But I… but we… I saw…”

She knows she sounds idiotic, and she wished she’d been able to properly collect her thoughts and ask him complete questions, but she’s just so shocked.

She had been so certain that it couldn’t have been Richie.

Her hands are trembling as she opens the folded note, eyes scanning it swiftly.

“What’s it say?” Richie asks, and her eyes flicker up to his, before going back to the paper in her hands.

“It-” She starts, but her throat swells up and she chokes for a second.  “It says- um,”

Her brows are furrowing, eyes trained on the few words scrawled across the whole sheet of paper.  The writing is haphazard, but still, whoever had written it had done so perfectly, as it fit right in the center of the page.  The longer she studied it, the more she realized it just had to have been Richie.

“It says I’m- I’m so-”

“I’m so fucking in love with you,”

Richie speaks up, and she looks up from the page, staring at him with her brows knit together, and her lips parted in shock.  She’s taking in short little breaths, trying to calm her eager heart.

“That I don’t know what to do with myself” He finished, and promptly kicked his shoe against the ground.

She’s still staring at him, waiting for more of an explanation, or waiting for him to tell her he was kidding and then run off down the street.

It couldn’t have been more clear to her that he was being absolutely sincere.

“Yeah,” Richie huffs.  “Um, it really was all me”

(y/n) blinks at him, before folding up the note again, and sliding it carefully back into her bag.

“Then what about this morning?” She whispered meekly.  “And you looked at them all- talked about it with me like- like-”

“I didn’t want you to know,” Richie shrugged, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.  “That was… it was the point of it being anonymous”

“Richie…” (y/n) starts, and he braces himself, staring down at the ground, silently praying it would swallow him whole right now.  “I… I really thought it wasn’t you”

His head shoots up, because that’s not what he expected.

“What?”

“I- yeah- that first, um, note, I kinda thought that maybe you’d… you know, written it,” She says softly.  Her hands start to wring together again.  “But from the way you’d reacted to it I just thought there was no way and… it sucked”

He shakes his head in disbelief, and the action makes her crack a smile, because he looks so confused and it’s so cute and utterly Richie.

“You- you wanted it to be me?” He asks, brows deeply furrowed as he stares at her skeptically, unsurely.

She bites down on her smile as she nods her head in confirmation.

“Yeah.  Yeah of course I wanted it to be you,” She whispers.  “I just really didn’t think it could have been, especially when you went on that stake out and the flowers-”

“(y/n),” He cuts her off, stepping forward until there’s the smallest amount of space between them, and she has to tilt her head back to keep their eye contact.  “I have to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

His glasses are sliding down his nose as he stares down at her, the look in his eyes intense as they flicker in between hers, searching for any sign at all.  He needed to know if this was the single greatest mistake of his life, and he’d live the rest of his days a lonely fool-

“Richie,” She murmurs back, a slight shake in her head as her own eyes wander the features of his face, mapping out every freckle, every dip, every crease.  She’s consumed by her own love for him and he didn’t even know it yet.

She doesn’t finish her thought, because she can’t help but lean in and capture his lips.  It’s a tentative kiss, because it’s new and she’s never kissed someone that she’s liked this much before.

Her hands were slow as they lifted from her sides, and pressing lightly against his shoulders.

When she pulled away, it took a second for her to process what just happened.  Meanwhile Richie was staring at her intensely, trying to get a read on her.

She’s starting to smile, and finally her eyes flutter open.

And all at once, he doesn’t feel like this is such a catastrophic mistake.

His fingers reach up and brush against her jaw tenderly.  Her eyes are half lidded, and trained on his lips.

“Sorry,” She mumbles.  “I just wanted to-”

“I get it” Richie shakes his head, cutting her off.

His hands slid up her jaw before cupping around her cheeks, and then slammed his lips down against hers.  She didn’t even have time to take in a breath before their lips connected, and she stumbled back at first but when she threw her arms around his neck she caught her balance and kissed him back passionately.

She’d never felt such a clarity though, and she thought she was going to float right off the ground.

It was like she’d been waiting for this one amazing kiss for a long time now, and it was everything she’d hoped for and more.

Richie’s fingers slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head and pulling her impossibly closer to him, as close as he could get her without picking her up and clutching her body against his.

He was dying to do that though.

“I can’t believe it,” (y/n) mumbled in between kisses.  “I love you too,” She added, her lips moving against his before attaching again, kissing him just a bit harder.  “And I-”

“You do?” Richie pulled away, and his hands dropped back to cradle her face sweetly.

She beams at him, before nodding her head in a choppy fashion.

“Yeah,” She mumbled, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, before gliding down his arms.  “I do”

His grin matches her own, and it's hard to bite it back so that he can kiss her again. ___

It was two weeks later when (y/n) found herself placing flowers in Richie’s curls while he was passed out.

The Loser’s Club had gone to the quarry, planning to spend the whole Saturday there.  And it was the first group thing that Richie and (y/n) were officially a couple at, but they also hadn’t all hung out properly in about a month, so it was a big deal.

Mike, Stan, and Bev brought all the food and snacks they could find that would keep in coolers.

Eddie and Bill brought drinks, sodas, waters, Eddie provided juice boxes that everyone made fun of but still drank anyways.

Ben brought a bunch of blankets for everyone to sprawl out on.

That left Richie and (y/n) in charge of the alcohol for the night, which pretty much meant Richie stealing as much as he could while (y/n) kept a lookout.  They had a system of bringing a bag full of empty bottles into a store, and sneaking liquor into the bathroom to transfer it into the bottles.

It was a skill they perfected on their first try.  Maybe it wasn’t moral, or legal, but they were seventeen, and stealing from their parents just wouldn’t get them enough alcohol for all eight of them.

They’d spent the whole day doing whatever they wanted.  Which was mostly swimming and drinking at the same time, despite Stan letting everyone know he would not help them if they drowned.  But now that the sun was starting to set and everyone was dwindling down, their party turned more into a calm night.

Maybe too calm, because Richie had passed out on one of the blankets.

But he had drunk quite a lot quite fast, spent twenty minutes picking every single flower and weed-that-looked-like-a-flower in the area, proclaimed them to be beautiful but never as beautiful as his girlfriend, and then pretty much dropped dead.

(y/n) was currently using the plants he’d picked now to lay them in his hair while he slept.  She laid on her stomach by his side, admiring how pretty he was as she did so.

“Are you making me a flower crown?”

Her eyes flickered down to his, not having expected him to say anything.

“I thought you were asleep?” She hummed.

“I was, but then the strangest thing happened,” Richie said, squinting up at her.  “I felt this- this presence, like an angelic, godly presence.  And next thing I know, there you are”

“Shut up,” (y/n) giggled, poking his cheek before rifling through her pile of flowers again.  “You’re such a nerd”

“I thought you liked that” He teased.

“Of course I do,” She murmured back.  “I just also think you should be reminded”

It was quiet for a moment while she focused on threading the stem of a dandelion perfectly through one of his curls.  After she’d made it as structurally sound as she could, she grinned, and gave him her attention again.

“And it’s not a flower crown,” She told him as she rolled onto her back, staying right next to him.  “But there are, like, a shit ton of flowers in your hair.  I had to do something with all the ones you picked for me”

He could hear Stan and Eddie making fun of him, while they sat not too far away taking turns drinking juice boxes and taking shots.  But it didn’t matter.  They would always tease him and (y/n), it was normal, and he came to terms with that the very day that (y/n) told him she loved him too, and they started going out.

It simply didn’t matter anymore.  Nothing they could say could matter.

“You want a juice box?” (y/n) asked, poking his cheek again because he had clearly zoned out.  “You drank a lot and then kinda just took a nap, you need something else in your system”

He smiles at her and nods.

“Sure” He answers, and starts to get up but (y/n) gently pushes him back down.

“Don’t move, you’ll mess up your flowers” She tells him, and then gets up to get them juice boxes.

Richie’s pretty certain he’s died and somehow was lucky enough to go to heaven.  He didn’t know how he pulled it off, but that made more sense than his reality.

I’m (y/n’s) boyfriend, he thinks, and then he repeats it to himself again and again.

She collapsed next to him again not a minute later, before handing him one of the juice boxes.

“Eddie’s kinda hoarding them,” She mutters, settling her head against his upper arm, which he wrapped around her to pull her closer.  “But he also accidentally got drunk, again, so I just took them when he wasn’t looking”

Richie chuckles, sipping away on the cheap drink, still lost in his own hazy thoughts.

(y/n) looks up at him, noticing his quiet state, and sets her box down.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” She asked softly, gazing into his eyes lovingly.

“Take a wild fuckin’ guess sweetheart,” Richie chuckled, and (y/n) rolled her eyes affectionately.  “I know, I’m a nerd”

She nods her head, and once again, pokes his cheek.  But her fingertip glides over his cheekbone and then along his jaw, tracing over his skin delicately.

“Yeah, but I love you for it”

His lips turn up into a cheesy grin, and he gives her a quick kiss that makes her cheeks flush pink.

He’s had two (amazing) weeks of watching her blush like that every time he kisses her, and it’s his new favorite thing.

“Richie,” She hums.  “I’m so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself-”

“Ha ha,” Richie can’t help but roll his eyes while (y/n) giggles, thinking she’s so funny for repeating his own words back to him.  “You’re gonna do that all the time now aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” She nods her head seriously.  “All the time.  Probably every day, hell, I’ll start calling you before I go to bed to remind you”

He finishes his juice box so that he can wrap both arms around her.

“I’d be okay with that”

“Good” She mumbles back happily.

“But you know that makes you a nerd too” He tells her.

She tilts her head back to look at him, before kissing him fully, her lips lingering against his for a second after she pulls away.

“That must be why we’re so perfect together” She says with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah yeah, you cheeseball,” Richie teases, and tugs her against him.

They lay and enjoy each other’s company, and the atmosphere of their friends.

Ben’s telling Beverly about how he helped Richie write his first note, and Mike and Bill are drunk wrestling horribly in the grass.  It’s an odd mix of things to listen to while one is trying to enjoy the sunset with their significant other, but something about it still felt right.

Richie breaks the silence just as (y/n) is considering napping with him.

“You’re right”

___

taglist: @lemonypink @darling-egg​ @fiantomartell​

a/n: this was um really fun to write even tho it took me a month lmao

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

[ieattaperecorders]

Something’s Different About You Lately - Chapter 11: Going Out

Jon looks to the future.

* * *

The streetlights were coming on. One of them caught Jon's eye, flickering for a moment before settling. Its light didn't make it very far into the alleyway, cut off by the shadow of the institute building. As the sky grew dark, the last few feet of pavement were completely obscured. Something could easily stand in that shadow, unseen by anyone walking by.

The words can I have a cigarette popped into Jon's mind as he pulled out the slim package of Silk Cut, placed one between his lips, and lit it. His lighter was cheap yellow plastic, disposable and meaningless. There was no lighter with a spiderweb pattern in his pocket. Like the table, it had never been delivered.

That lighter. He wondered, as he inhaled nicotine and acetaldehyde, why he could think about it now. His mind had simply slid off it before, even when it was brought to his attention. Only recently had it finally occurred to him how strange it had been, to hold onto a thing like that for so long. He'd been made not to notice it. Why was he allowed to realize that now?

Maybe he'd been freed from something. More likely, they didn't need the lighter anymore, didn't need to hide their influence on him. They knew that there was nothing he could do.

Annabelle's words rang in his memory as he took another drag, telling him that addiction was one of the most powerful vectors of control. She wasn't wrong, and maybe he shouldn't be smoking at all right now. But the old lie of just one more still had its pull. Any fractional part of himself he might be feeding to the spiders with every puff seemed as irrelevant as lung cancer at this point. Besides, this really was his last cigarette. He knew a surefire way to quit.

Still a couple of hours until it would begin, and there was nothing to do but wait and contemplate. Everything was ready. It had been ready for some time, really. If he was honest with himself, he'd been putting this off. Stalling, telling himself he needed more time, when the reality was that he just didn't want to go through with it. It was strange that he was still afraid to die. After everything he'd been through – more importantly, everything that was at stake – one might expect him to go to his end stoically, even with relief. Comforted by some notion that he was making a noble sacrifice. Or by the darker hope that so many cross that line with, that at the end of it all there will be rest.

He didn't feel noble. He didn't feel like some soldier in a Tennyson poem, riding boldly and well into death. He felt like Alexei in the endless trench at the end of the world – scared, powerless, yearning for a home that had ceased to exist. All he had in him was a dull, cold ache, broken by the occasional stab of fear as he contemplated how little time was left. He supposed Terminus's torments got everyone in the end.

It would be nice, though, if he could be stoic. He didn't like thinking his last hours would be spent fighting down dread.

Another puff. The smoke made patterns in the air around him, the abstract shape of his breath outlined in ash and tar. As he watched it dissipate, the light hit it at a particular angle and for a moment – fast, but unmistakable – he saw the interlacing tendrils of a spider's web. With a start, he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his shoe.

Dying wasn't so bad, he told himself. Everyone did it eventually. And there were far worse things than death.

There was still time before Rosie would leave for the night, and he decided to treat himself to a last meal. He considered getting something extravagant or indulgent, but in the end all he wanted was a sandwich and soup from the nearby cafe, so it would be that. One more simple comfort, with enough calories to get him through this final push.

As he passed the front of the Institute he saw Martin sitting on the steps, staring out across the street and scribbling something in a little notebook.

Jon froze. He hadn't expected to run into anyone. "Oh. Hello."

". . . Hi." Martin seemed likewise surprised to see him, quickly stuffing the notebook into his bag. In the back of his mind, Jon wondered if he'd been writing poetry. "You, uh . . . coming to the meeting later?"

Martin was choosing his words carefully, he noticed. At least someone was taking his warnings about Elias seriously.

"Yes. Ah, yes," he replied. "I'll see you there."

Martin nodded. Jon began to walk past him, but after a few feet he stopped and turned.

"Have you eaten?" he blurted out. Martin blinked, surprised, and he continued. "I, ah, was just going to get something from the cafe down the street. If you'd like to join me."

He spoke stiffly and too fast, and maybe that was what made Martin pause – the nervousness apparent in Jon's demeanor. The weight he couldn't keep from placing on the question.

"Um. You mean. . . ?"

He could almost see Martin doing calculations. Weighing the intensity of everything that had happened that day, and Jon's own confusing outburst earlier. They'd eaten at that cafe before, but only during work hours. Did it mean something else if it was dinner?

Jon wanted to say yes, it meant exactly what he thought it did and more. But now was the one time when he really, truly couldn't, not with what he knew was coming. It would be too cruel. He'd had countless chances to tell Martin how he felt, and he hadn't taken them, and now it was too late.

"I mean," he said gently "that I think we could both use a little time to just relax. And not think about everything that's been happening. That's all."

"O-oh. Right. Of course." Was he disappointed? Embarrassed? Relieved? Jon truly couldn't tell. "Um, yeah. That sounds good. Let me just get my coat."

He vanished into the institute, leaving Jon outside. He wondered if it had been a mistake to ask. If he should have just left on his own, come back alone, and done what had to be done. Then Martin came back out, wrapping a scarf around his throat, and smiled when their eyes met.

After that, he didn't worry or wonder. He smiled back.

* * *

Jon's thoughts were scattered, and Martin's presence beside him as they walked was a source of gravity, pulling him back to the same questions, over and over. Would he believe Jon after he explained everything? Would he take it poorly? More than anything else . . . when it was over, all of it, would he be all right? Perhaps predictably, Martin was the one to actually break the silence.

"So . . . look. We don't have to talk about Sasha, or Tim, or–" he waved his hand, indicating anything and nothing. "All of that. It's just, today's been rough, and you're being really quiet, and . . . ."

A quiet warmth rose in Jon's chest. ". . . You want to know if I'm all right."

"Basically?"

"I'm . . . as all right as I'm going to be. Under the current circumstances," he sighed. "I'll let you know if I feel a nervous breakdown coming on."

Martin gave him an uncertain look, as if he might be serious, but when Jon smiled he seemed to realize he was joking. "Ah. Well . . . Sasha took hers this weekend, so the rest of us are probably due."

"Seems only fair."

"Maybe we can set up a schedule? ‘Oh, Tuesday – that means it's Tim's turn to do the dishes in the break room and Martin's to scream in the storage closet.'" He shook his head. "We're a mess, huh? The four of us."

"Could be worse. No one's murdered anyone else, or threatened a coworker with a deadly weapon. Those are a couple of points in our favor," he paused for a moment, then added. ". . . That was a joke."

"I should hope so. Sheesh. If I'm ever in a position to send out job applications again, remind me not to use you as a reference. Can't imagine what you'd say about my perfect no-homicide streak."

That made Jon pause. He tiled his head, considering. "I'm not sure that you actually have one . . . we did kill Jane Prentiss?"

"I – what? She wasn't even really alive, though, was she? That can't possibly count."

"Mm. Maybe not." He had his doubts, but how much of Jane had truly been there when they killed her wasn't a question he wanted to dig into at that moment. "Either way, since I was the one to set off the alarm, you were really more of an accomplice."

"And there's self-defense? She was trying to eat us, it doesn't get much more threatening than that."

Jon smirked. "It'd be a bold strategy, arguing that to a jury."

The last few blocks to the cafe had passed without him really noticing, and the two of them went inside. As they settled at a table, he turned to Martin.

"What would you actually do? If you could leave?" he asked. "If you really were sending out applications."

Martin paused in draping his coat over the back of the chair, startled by the question."Is this a, ‘what would you do if money didn't matter' sort of thing, or like –"

"No. Money is the same. Everything is the same, just the institute's gone. What would you do?"

"Dunno? Try to get another library job, I guess, since it's what I have experience in. Suppose that's not a very interesting answer."

"It's a reasonable one."

"I liked it in the library, though. I guess it suited me . . . it was quiet and easy to keep things organized. Easier than the archive, at least," he shrugged, sitting down. "What about you? What would you do if you could quit?"

Oh. Fair question, one Jon should have realized he was opening himself to after asking Martin the same. He really wasn't sure what to say. Starting over outside the Institute . . . it was something he used to think about, occasionally. In Scotland he would allow himself silly, idle thoughts of the two of them settling there. Laying low, maybe finding work in the tiny village somewhere or in his more fanciful moments living ‘off the land' in some impossibly nonspecific way.

His mind still drifted the safehouse from time to time, but it was only a daydream. His already impractical, half-formed plans had turned into soothing fantasies disconnected from any reality – too perfect and comforting to bother with the question of how they paid for groceries.

"Hard to say. The supernatural has seemed like such an inescapable thing for a while now. I – I know it's only been a year. But it's still hard to imagine myself outside the archive anymore." He sucked air in through his teeth. "Which sounds awfully grim, I'm sure."

"I think I might get it. Honestly . . . this is going to sound just awful, but after you told us about the no-quitting thing, I think a part of me was relieved? Just a small part. But I'd been anxious about losing this job on and off for a while now, and on some level I guess I was just glad I wouldn't need to worry about that."

"Martin . . ." Jon said softly. "You – we can't think like that. You're not better off at the Institute."

"Oh, I know. I mean, I get it. Like I said . . . just a small part," he shrugged. "But you already know this is the only real job I've ever had. And even before the supernatural stuff, it's not like I had much of a life outside of it."

"You seem to get along with people, though," he said. "Hannah, and the others from the library. You talk with nearly everyone, don't you?"

"I guess . . . but only at work. Which kind of proves my point."

Jon nodded slowly, looking down at his hands. Once again found his mind returning to would he be all right? He knew that there were a thousand, thousand ways for a person to be trapped somewhere. After a moment of silence, he continued.

"Er. How is Hannah doing?"

"Oh. All right, I suppose. She's got her due date set, so she's making plans for that."

"Right . . . you know," he cleared his throat. "I don't think I know half the people outside the archive as well as you do."

"Well, I've been here a lot longer. You at least know Yolanda right? I saw you two talking last week, it looked like you were getting on."

"I suppose? I mentioned liking cats, and she sort of cornered me. Wouldn't let me leave until she'd gone through every detail of hers."

"Heh, that sounds right."

"I don't mind seeing photos of people's pets, obviously. But she insists on calling them her ‘fur babies' which really is an horrific term. . . ."

From there they got to talking about others in the Institute who had strange quirks with their pets. Apparently Iris had brought their bearded dragon into the library one afternoon and it had gotten loose in the stacks. Jon observed with a smirk that this seemed to be a pattern around Martin, which to his delight managed to fluster him a little. He stammered something about how he'd checked with the shelter and the dog had been adopted already, so Jon could rest easy knowing it wouldn't find it's way back there, thank you very much.

Listening to him speak, Jon found himself thinking about how much Martin noticed about other people. Little things that escaped Jon or fell through the sieve of his memory somehow stood out to him. It was a bit embarrassing to realize there were still colleagues of his in research that Martin knew better than he did.

Martin also had more than a small streak for gossip, a quality that hadn't had much chance to come up much in the time he'd spent with Jon in that other life. It was a recklessly endearing thing to discover, and the time passed quickly as they talked.

". . . And there's the live lobster that Rosie won in a raffle," Martin said, finishing out a story. "But you probably know about that one already, pretty sure she told everyone about it."

"Not everyone. Not me, anyway."

Jon's mind momentarily drifted to a cold, echoing tower, to a sense of being caught eavesdropping, and of swallowed regret. It was usually how he felt around Rosie nowadays. Things weren't made much easier by the fact that whenever they made eye contact he heard Jonah's voice saying "Nosy Rosie" in the back of his mind, and he'd grown vaguely terrified that one day he'd just say it out loud without thinking.

"I find it little hard to talk to her, though," he added. "And I don't think she's especially fond of me."

Martin balked at that. "Rosie? Come on, she likes everyone."

"No one likes everyone, Martin."

"Okay, fine. But, still, she's like, the most laid back person in the whole building. How is she of all people hard to talk to? Unless –" a thought seemed to occur to him. "Oh, wait – is this something to do with Elias? Is she, like, his henchman or something? Is she in on it?"

"What? No, no, it's nothing like that . . . though I suppose her closeness to Elias doesn't help. I can't exactly talk with her about . . . well, any of this."

"So talk to her about something else, then!" Martin's tone had taken on a determined edge, and Jon feared he had a point that he was making. "I know you can talk about things that aren't terrible, dire secrets. Tell her about emulsifiers or something."

"I don't know . . ." Jon shifted in his chair. "I think I lost the art of conversation somewhere."

"Oh, come on. You talk to me all the time, and Sasha and Tim . . . ."

". . . That's different."

Heat was rising to Jon's face, and it occurred to him that he should probably just agree with whatever Martin said in the hopes that they could move past this point in the conversation. But he just didn't have it in him not to be contrary over this – an energy that seemed to only feed into Martin's.

"Come on, pretend I'm Rosie." Martin folded his arms and leaned forward on his elbows, looking at Jon. "Tell me something about yourself. Talk about your hobbies or something."

"Hobbies . . ." Jon shook his hand, quietly baffled. "I don't know . . . I read a lot? I used to collect sea glass, but not really lately."

He sounded boring even to himself, but he couldn't think of a hobby that he'd stuck to for any real amount of time. What had he done with himself before his days were spent desperately scrabbling against a tide of supernatural horror? He thought back.

"Oh. Well, I did a little bit of theater in college. And I was in a band for about a year and a half."

That got Martin's attention. "You were in a band? Like, a real one?"

"I don't know what makes a band ‘real' or not," he shrugged. "We weren't imaginary."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Would I have heard of you?"

"Are you – are you still being Rosie, or –?"

"No, I guess not. I'm just curious. Would I have?"

"Definitely not. Not unless you happened to attend open mics around Oxford, or were a regular at the only bar that ever let us play," he waved his hand, already embarrassed that he'd brought it up and eager to move past it. "It was just myself and a few friends, really it was an excuse to blow off steam."

"Huh. What kind of music did you play?"

"Oh God. Experimental, I guess? Sort of industrial, but also operatic, maybe? Not – not what you're thinking of probably, but –" he huffed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not describing it very well."

He looked up to see Martin leaning forward subtly, arms on the table, a look of eager curiosity on his face. He was smiling. It was a nice smile, not nervous, not tired and worn down or wry, and Jon wanted to stop everything there. Stop time from moving forward, so that Martin could keep smiling like that, just for a while.

Nothing matters anymore, he thought.

"Hell with it," he said, reaching for his phone. "Would you like to see pictures?"

"Um, yes?" Martin said. "Absolutely."

Jon sighed, but felt a smile pulling at his face. "I'll warn you, they aren't very flattering. And almost all of them were taken in the dim light."

He thumbed through his photo albums until he reached what he was looking for, then passed his phone across the table. Martin took it, looking at the picture and then back at Jon, as if comparing the two.

"Huh," he said diplomatically, biting his lower lip. Jon was just glad he wasn't openly laughing. "You look different."

"Mmm. My hair was longer then."

"The makeup is nice. Are the silver things stars?"

"Oh. Yes . . ." Jon frowned, trying to remember details. "We each had sort of a character we played, though the backstories kept changing. Mine was a space explorer, I think? Honestly, I don't remember very well, and I don't think it was ever fully fleshed out."

"Have the others seen these?" Martin asked, flipping through them with growing delight.

Jon shook his head. "I've told Tim that I used to sing. But I'm fairly sure he thought I meant a school choir, and I didn't correct him. I haven't told Sasha at all, though I suppose it's always possible she's found out on her own."

"Really?" That made Martin pause and look back at him. Still smiling, pleased to have a secret, but surprised. "Why show me, then?"

Because I love you. Jon thought. Because I'm going to be dead in a few hours, and seeing the surprise and delight on your face is one of the last and greatest pleasures that I'll ever know. Because I want to give you so much, and I can't. I want to give you every wonderful thing you deserve, and I won't. All I can give you is this, and it's so small and stupid and pointless, but it's all that I have.

"I suppose I'm just in a sharing mood," he said.

* * *

Dinner passed far more quickly than Jon would have ever expected, and it was with a sigh that he finally looked at the time and realized it had nearly run out.

"We should probably be getting back."

A stab of something ran through him as he said it – fear, regret, or resolve, he couldn't tell. But it was soft, and didn't linger. Martin nodded and frowned as he looked at the bill.

"Forgot to ask them to split it," he muttered.

"Let me," Jon reached forward, gently slipping it from under his fingers. "It's the least I can do."

Martin hesitated, then said "I'll get the next one."

He managed half of a nod in response, he couldn't bear to agree out loud, it would feel too much like a lie. A moment later the bill was paid, and the two of them started back towards the Institute. As they left, Jon put a hand on Martin's arm.

"Thank you for this," he said, squeezing slightly before letting him go. "I . . . well, I think I really needed it."

The surprise in Martin's face at Jon's touch quickly turned into something softer, and he smiled down at him. "Anytime, Jon. Really."

The two of them walked back in silence.

* * *

Tim was still in the archive, meaning Sasha had managed to convince him not to go off in search of the circus again. Melanie had also arrived, brought in by the unavoidably cryptic voice message he'd left on her phone. She seemed to be in conversation with Sasha.

Jon nodded at them. "You're all here. Good."

"What's going on?" Melanie said. "You claim it's urgent that I come but you don't say why, and it seems to me like no one else knows either."

"Not here." He held up a hand and turned, gesturing for them to follow. "We can talk in the tunnels, I'll explain everything there."

#tma fanfic #ao3 link in reblog #tma #tma time travel au #cw: suicidal ideation #cw: smoking

[shiishki]

okay wait, i changed my mind. you should answer all of these questions as well, if that's what you want from me >:)

oof there's a lot of it, that's what i get for wanting to be ✨aesthetic✨

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

vowels (and the importance of being me) - hunny

honeypie - jawny

pretty young thing - michael jackson

mirrors - justin timberlake

sunflower - red orange county

paradise - rude-a

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

a therapist.

ok someone else.. uhh,, my grand grandma because i only have scratches of memories but i dunno if that counts since she passed away...

*rummages through ancient scripts* uhh ok someone who isn't dead.. uhm,, tommie? yeah I'd like to meet them if i could meet anyone on earth

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

ok, the closest german, english or polish book? nvm i have english

"suddenly was. So I just said thank you a few times too, and Mum" ironically this is one of the normal lines in this book

4: What do you think about most?

the fact that I'll have to do something after school. and I don't know if i want to go to college or get a job bc i have no legitimate idea on what to do with my life. it gets overwhelming, just the lack of knowledge about the actual experience.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Ok

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

with, tho i sleep with just shorts in summer

7: What’s your strangest talent?

not sure if it's a talent, but i can fall asleep anywhere

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls are pretty. boys are pretty

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

by me, yes. no one else has written a poem about me specifically. nvm, tommie wrote one and it shall rest on my wall, or desk, i need to find a place for it

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

uhh i think last month?

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

i don't think so, but i am hella afraid of the possibly gigantic, terrifying things in the ocean depths that humans haven't discovered yet

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

yep, beloved legos as a lil child

13: What’s your religion?

i can't ever remember the name, but i believe gods (from all religions) exist in some way or form. so i believe in different pantheons and etc.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

walking my doggo, skateboarding, thinking about how to make the lives of my characters worse

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind it.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

uhmm the arctic monkeys? or the strokes

17: What was the last lie you told?

i know what i want

18: Do you believe in karma?

yes, the rule of three specifically

19: What does your URL mean?

i don't know. it's something me and my sis came up with and that's just my whole identity now.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

uhh greatest weakness.. i can't finish things. strength is that I'm very stubborn so maybe I'll finish that thing out of spite

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

i grew up thinking crushes were like unicorns. my ex was odd enough to argue with that i didn't love her if i didn't have a crush on her. but I think if i had to guess.. selena gomez, especially in the role of alex russo in wizard of weverly street

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

nope

23: How do you vent your anger?

i write angry letters. sometimes they're sad letters. i write a lot of letters. except i never send them out and no one made a movie about them :}

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

jars and witchy bottles, books? scented candles

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

phone calls are stressful enough as is, i don't need you to see my reading off what i frantically wrote to not stumble over my words

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

i think so, yes, but that won't stop me from becoming better

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

hate flies buzzing right by my ear, love cat purring

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

what if I'd been born in a place where it was illegal for me (nonbinary) to live, in a time when others thought of me as a curse?

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

they be chilling.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

right arm, doggo, left arm, pillow

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

fresh air and doggo, because doggo is with me and I can't live without open windows

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

i dunno tbh

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

which one is less homophobic?

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

every gender is my opposite gender. selena gomez and justin timberlake

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

to make it easier for people down the line

36: Define Art.

make thing, thing goes woo

37: Do you believe in luck?

yis

38: What’s the weather like right now?

it's nice actually, very sunny, slight breeze

39: What time is it?

12.59 am

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

i don't, but i once crashed into a fire department vehicle with my bike. bike ded.

41: What was the last book you read?

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

i legit ass don't know what gasoline smells like.

43: Do you have any nicknames?

many variations of my name, aka. Luce

44: What was the last film you saw?

i think it was Robin Hood: King of Thieves, but it might have been that half of spider-man homecoming i managed to watch with my poor internet

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

oh man i dunno... it's not an injury, but i was very sickly as a lil kid and almost died :)

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

once, years ago

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

hmmm horizon zero dawn i think

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

proud pansexual ^^

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

not really, i don't think they're big enough to be actual rumors,, meh

50: Do you believe in magic?

yis

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

meh. they suck, i know they suck, that's it.

52: What is your astrological sign?

cancer ♋

53: Do you save money or spend it?

i attempt saving. attempt

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

for my own money, sweets. i bought lizards for my cats so they can brush their teeth from my dad's amazon acc

55: Love or lust?

luv

56: In a relationship?

nope, i buy my own cookies

57: How many relationships have you had?

1, kinda toxic toward the end, very stressful, don't recommend

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

nu ><

59: Where were you yesterday?

on the fields walking my doggo

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

yep, a pastel pink hoodie in my closet uwu

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

yis, thicc warm socks

62: What’s your favourite animal?

cats

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

cuddles and food.

64: Where is your best friend?

bold of you to assume i have a best friend.

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

tommie-hildebrandt, kageyuji, nekomas-kuroo, joyful-soul-collector

66: What is your heritage?

I'm a demon boi from Poland tho that's not a thing to be proud of, i mean, look at the economy. awful.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

sleeping, trying to sleep.

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Pinkton. or Satan.

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

this is such an odd combination of words i had to look it up. yea.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

a friend who won't laugh at me when i ask them to order smth for me because I'm too anxious to.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

excuse me? i am saving the doggo wtf. f u boss, I'm gonna sell my tragic story to the news.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) i tell my parents. b) live the hell out of them uwu c) nope uwu.

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

trust.

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

history maker - dean fujioka :]

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

3332

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

communication, trust, some more communication.

77: How can I win your heart?

let's not pretend to be something else to please each other, and bring some bitter chocolate.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

maybe. it could. i don't have a say in it since my sanity is held by tape.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

eat the pizza. stop caring about others not liking me/parts of me. just living for myself uwu.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

uh i dunno how the american sizes work and i don't wanna look it up so, 39, 40 fits too.

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

demon boi

82: What is your favourite word?

socks.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

the bloody organ that sits in your chest and pumps blood into your body so you don't die.

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

uhm im not sure if that counts as a saying, but fake it till you make it

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

blinding lights - the weeknd

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

oh a normal question people use for ice breaking, sea blue and pastel variations of it.

87: What is your current desktop picture?

like my wallpaper? or the actual picture that sits on my desk? or how my desk looks like atm? it's ugly, a lot of papers and pens and schoolbooks.

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

donald trump. or the next asshole who'll try to take the rights of the lgbt and poc away

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

this. this is the question.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

yo there's a pizza somewhere in the refrigerator, want me to heat it up? we can have a sleep over and talk about our feelings :3

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

telekinesis! or shapeshifting! i could do such fun things with telekinesis ^^ yeah I'd totally eat some radioactive veggies

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

that time my "friends" got me into shoplifting, half-hour is more than enough to punch some sense into my brain and develop good music taste

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

can i save this one? i don't think i have an experience horrible enough to be erased haha

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

sleep as in.. uh no thank u. but I'm down for a sleep over with sam smith ^^

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

just me? what about my pets? my fam? it's lowkey illegal for me to go just anywhere without them owO

uhhmm, greece. imma become part of the greek pantheon out of pure spite. and maybe toronto canada.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not any that i know of o.o

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

i think i may have but i honestly don't remember

98: Ever been on a plane?

nope, i dunno if i like planes, but I'd probably sleep if i were on one.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

yeet.

#that was long #probably because my stubborn ass wanted to make pretty formatting #shiishki.rambles #shiishki.interacts with tommie

[aellynera]

Don’t Forget the Napkins (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

DON’T FORGET THE NAPKINS

Word count: 2733(ish)

Warnings: Just a little bit of language, really (I mean, it’s Llewyn, so...) Like one sentence about Pappi’s creepy tendencies.

(with prompts: “Call me now, it’s urgent”; “Have you lost your mind”; and “So...can we go eat?”)

Another Saturday night at the Gaslight. There was nothing odd about that, it was where you spent pretty much every Saturday night for the past year and half, working behind the bar and waiting on the tables out by the stage when needed. Sure, it was dark, smoky, and kind of dingy, but it helped make ends meet and you got to listen to music for free.

The music is what you had first come to the Gaslight for, right after you graduated from college and moved to the big city. You loved the music and started coming in every chance you got, no matter who was on stage, just to sit in the room in the moment and experience the music. Pappi had taken a shine to you, said you reminded him of his little sister. You had no idea if he really had a sister, nor did you care, but it was certainly less creepy than Pappi telling you it was because he wanted to fuck you, so you let it slide. You had heard him make the latter suggestion to more performers than you cared to admit, but he was a decent boss and you got on well at the job, so it all worked out.

You had majored in English and wanted to be a famous writer, maybe even write some songs that people would talk about and still sing years from now, so where else would you go other than New York City? That’s where the culture was. That’s where the art scene was. That’s where the nightlife and bright lights and intellectuals were. And that’s also where Llewyn Davis was.

Llewyn. Now there was a riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a mystery.

You had seen him perform quite a few times at the Gaslight, and even bought his record when it came out. You talked to him just about every time he was there, because he always sat at the bar both before and after he performed. He had seemed quiet at first; well, he still did, really, but by now you knew the right combination of idle chit-chat, soft smiles, and whiskey straight up to get him to drop the first line of defense. Once that happened, he would talk to you all night. And if you weren’t busy, you’d let him. At some point, you had told him about your dreams of writing and creating songs that people wanted to sing (there was no way you were going to sing them yourself, at least not in public; your stage fright was too monumental and soul crushing). He had just looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, pushing one of his perfect dark curls off his face, then finished his drink and went up on the stage. When he came back, he ordered another drink and started up random conversation again. Then the night was over.

And that was his mystery - he spoke of many things, but he never really told you anything. You had an easy back and forth, a friendship even, but it felt like he never let on more than the bare minimum.

But the night after you had told him about the songwriting, you had come in to work and there was a note for you behind the bar. Two lines, scribbled on a napkin. You read them a few times and realized it was maybe the beginning of a poem...or lyrics. So you quickly wrote two more lines, and when Llewyn came in that night, you walked up to him and stuck the folded napkin in his pocket. He looked surprised, but you caught the slight upturn of his lips a few minutes later when he took it out, looked at it, and then carefully put it back in his pocket.

The next night, the napkin was back. Two more lines. So you added two more. The same thing the next day. And the next, and the day after that. It kind of became your thing, without anything else ever being said about it. Sometimes there was a whole verse written out and you would start a chorus, and vice versa. Once it was one word at a time and that had honestly gone off the rails pretty quickly, but it was fun.

And it had been going on for just about a year. You saw it as a mental game to keep your writing sharp and your brain engaged and your friend entertained. He certainly did more than his fair share in entertainment from his stool on the stage.

So when you got to work that night, it wasn’t a surprise to find another napkin meticulously folded and placed behind the bar where you normally stowed your pocketbook and keys. The place was more packed than usual, but there was some new guy named Dylan or something that was playing and there was a lot of buzz around him. So that was normal too. Smiling to yourself, you picked up the napkin and read the familiar scrawl.

Call me now, it’s urgent.

That was..not normal. Your face scrunched up in confusion, you quickly looked up and caught the mop of dark curls hunched over at the end of the bar. Grabbing a clean bar towel and the bottle of his favorite whiskey, you made your way over.

“Oh...good, you got my message,” he said, raising his eyes ever so slightly to meet yours over the rim of his tumbler. They were (beautiful and dark and compelling and soft and…) sort of glassy and red around the edges and maybe a little bloodshot? And was that a smirk inching its way onto his lips? You sighed.

“You’re sitting right here, Llewyn,” you said, taking the glass from his hand and refilling it without him asking. You pushed it back to him. “So thank you for saving me the dime.”

He snorted. “Come on, it was...a little funny, right?”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t keep your own small smile off your face. Did he realize the irony that you wouldn’t have been able to call him anyway, since you never really knew where he would be staying? “And you’re a little pissed already, huh? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

“Nah, not really. And I’m not drunk. I am alcoholically reinforced,” he took another sip of his drink.

“...what does that even mean?”

He shook his head, that one particular curl flopping over his forehead and into (those beautiful, soulful, deep, enchanting…) his eyes. He totally ignored your question. “So, uh, look,” he started, suddenly seeming a bit more unsure of himself. “I really wanted to ask you, if…”

“No, you cannot borrow my couch tonight, Llewyn. My sister is in town.” You idly wiped at the bar top with your towel, raising an eyebrow at him.

For a split second he looked offended, but it was so brief you almost missed it. “What? No, no, I don’t need a place to...look, I just needed to tell you...well, ask you really, but also tell you…”

“Hey, Llewyn!” Pappi’s voice suddenly boomed from the other side of the room. “Lay off the help and get your ass up on stage! You’re not gettin’ half the basket just to sit here and drink all my booze!”

Llewyn sighed. “Yeah, yeah, all right,” he yelled back. His attention turned back to you. “So, listen, really though I need to…”

You swatted at him with the towel. “You need to finish that glass and get up there before we both get in trouble, is what you need to do. It looks like it’s gonna be a crazy night, I’ll catch you after, yeah? We’ll go grab a burger at that place down the block, my treat.” You flashed him a grin as you walked away before he could say anything else. And by say anything else, you really meant say no, because that man needed to eat a good, hot meal. As usual.

Llewyn watched you walk off and start tending to other patrons, then threw back the rest of his glass in one gulp. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he walked to the stage. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me…”

As Llewyn picked up his guitar and got himself situated, you filled drink orders and watched him as you did so. It was getting harder to deny that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, especially when he was up there, under the single spotlight and surrounded by the smoky haze of the crowd and his own cigarette smoke. There was just something about him. But the puzzle and mystery and enigma hung over everything and you were fairly certain you’d never crack the actual code, so you just let your crush be a crush. It was part of what made the Gaslight worth it, after all.

The night went on, busy and loud and musical. This particular crowd was really getting into his set and you couldn’t help but feel proud of him. He deserved the attention, and you knew he wanted it, even if he liked to pretend he didn’t. After a few songs, you took a pint glass of water up to the stage. It was something you always did for performers, but especially for Llewyn (since he tended to drink more than his fair share of whiskey in the meantime). You were about halfway to the stage when he strummed a few notes and started to introduce his next song.

“So, uh...well, this is a new song for me,” he started, noticing you coming his way. “And I didn’t really plan on doing this until maybe about an hour or so ago, but well...I dunno, sometimes when something just feels right, it’s right, you know?” His eyes meet yours as you set the glass on the small table next to him on the stage, and he momentarily seems to search for the next words.

“Y’know I usually work alone, but, uh, I wrote this next song with a friend. A good friend. Someone who is really talented and good with words, better with words than I am. And...and she doesn’t know I’m doing this but I’ll ask for forgiveness later.” He chuckled and the crowd did too in response.

Llewyn cleared his throat. “So, yeah. This is a song I wrote with the help of a lovely lady you probably all know. If you do, ask her to make you a drink, and if you don’t, well, go back to the bar and introduce yourself.”

You were almost to the back of the room, back to said bar, when your eyes shot wide and you spun on your heel to face the stage. Oh no, he did not just...did he? It’s kind of hard to clearly see his face from back here with the light and the glare in the smoke but you could swear that jerk is grinning, like full on guilty smiling, and in that instant you swore if you weren’t working and there weren’t so many people shoved into this space you might go up there and actually punch him. Your face was on fire and your stomach felt like it was going to drop out the bottoms of your feet. Your mouth dropped open before you could stop it.

Every pair of eyes in the room suddenly turned on you. There were maybe a hundred people there? Around that many. A hundred people times two and that’s how many eyes were suddenly staring right at you. There was only one pair of eyes you really cared about, though.

You managed to catch Llewyn’s eyes for a moment and you mouthed at him - Have you lost your mind? He shrugged slightly, closed his eyes, and started playing his...your...song.

It was beautiful. From the second line you recognized the napkin it had come from, one that got passed back and forth about four months ago, during a particularly cold week when it didn’t quite snow but the rain was still frozen. It was a back and forth about two people realizing they were in love but being too afraid and preoccupied and aloof to do or say anything about it. Typical unrequited love stuff. But oh, suddenly, oh now it had much more meaning. You listened, and watched, from the corner behind the bar, transfixed and unable to look away as every emotion you knew and some you never knew existed washed over you in time with the notes from the guitar and Llewyn’s gorgeous voice.

Once the song ended, you somewhat got your bearings and turned back to the bar. People were already coming over to tell you how beautiful the song was, ask if you really wrote it with Llewyn Davis, tell you how much they enjoyed it, ask if you had written any others...you were only vaguely aware of most of it and managed to pour some drinks and answered things as best you could, until finally one voice broke through all the others.

“So. Um. Did you like it?”

You closed your eyes for a minute, biting your lip. “Llewyn...I...what just happened?”

He looked down for a second, then reached over and took the glass you were holding and the bar towel out of your hands. He gently wrapped his fingers around yours, giving you a light squeeze. He didn’t say anything for a few more seconds, but when you didn’t pull away, he continued, “I tried to tell you...shit, I kept every single one of those napkins since we started doing that, and I turned some of ‘em into a song and wanted to play it tonight. I tried, but...well...fuck, you’re not mad at me are you?”

You weren’t mad. God, you were anything but mad at this man. Stunned, and surprised, yes, but definitely not mad. He kept all those napkins? You’d always half-wondered what happened to them, but never really gave it much thought, but you hadn’t really expected that to be the answer. Your brain still couldn’t quite process your own words correctly, so you just shook your head no and squeezed his hands in return.

Llewyn let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank fuck. For a few minutes there I thought I really fucked things up.”

You finally got your head back straight and laughed. “No, you didn’t,” you smiled. You cocked your head to the side and studied his face for a moment. “I still can’t quite figure you out, but you definitely did not fuck anything up.”

“Good,” he nodded. He lifted your fingers to his lips and brushed his lips along your knuckles, suddenly pulling away when Pappi snorted from his corner of the bar. You both turned to him, scowls on your faces, and Llewyn whipped the bar towel at Pappi’s head.

“So...can we go eat?” Llewyn asked, turning his attention back to you and ignoring Pappi’s continued string of bemused and somewhat lewd sounds.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Eat. Y’know, burgers? At that joint down the street? You said something earlier about buying me dinner?” Llewyn asked dryly.

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously? You sing me a song that I helped you write, and then you expect me to buy you dinner.”

“Well, you did offer.”

You bit your lip again as your smile grew wider and a blush crept further up your face. “Okay. But make sure you don’t lose these, we’re going to need them.” You grabbed a few pens from underneath the bar before coming around to his side and shoving them in Llewyn’s coat pocket.

“Okay, sure? But what are those for?” he asked, slipping and arm around your waist and leading you to the door.

“Because,” you replied, your tone implying that he should already know, “there are a lot of napkins floating around that place.”

Llewyn pulled you a little closer and you smiled into his embrace. “Ohhhhh.”

“And Llewyn?”

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t kidding about the couch, my sister really is in town. But I’ve got a much more comfortable place you can stay tonight.”

~end~

#oscar isaac #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #prompt fic #fluff

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #456

“i don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger, & that feels so rough”

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for? I know at LEAST over an hour. I was in agony. What type of TV shows are your favourite? Animal docs. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Bitch I still am lmao. Do you know anyone who has died in battle? No. When was the last time you went on an adventure? Bro, I could NOT tell you. I haven't had one of those in what feels like eons. What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I actually don't know. I don't pay attention. Are you good at rapping? Never tried, but I'm sure I'd be awful. I stutter too much. Name one world issue that upsets you. Just ONE????????? Well, I can name homelessness as very high on the list. How do you feel about tanning? I hate it. I can't stand the heat, so why would I deliberately go bake in it? Have you ever given a public speech? Yeah, in front of the whole 4th and 5th grade when I was innnn... one of those grades, idr which. It was for my D.A.R.E. essay. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? NOOOOOOOOOOO I'm way too awkward. Kiss with your eyes open or closed? Bro who tf kisses with their eyes open, that shit is creepy. Do you believe you can change someone? No. One can only change themselves. How did you react when your first pet died? I have no memory of our first pet. Have you ever drawn anime? No. Can you use a pogo stick? When I was a kid, I became a MASTER. I got one for I want to say Christmas and I was obsessed. When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like? Idk, first he needs to get on Facebook and see I messaged him alsdkfjalkdj. He like never gets on there. Do you like bathing/showering? No. One, it's a chore, and two, it's actually painful for me, standing up so long and propping my legs up and stuff like that to clean myself properly. Have you ever considered entering a race? HEEEEEEEEEEELL no. Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Probably Gaga, idk. Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I actually kinda want a TV now? What do you take the most pictures of? Flowers. What are you always in the mood for? Lately, Krispy Kreme donuts, lol. I haven't had one in a very long time, but goddamn does a hot glazed donut sound BANGIN' right now and has for days. What is something that you never turn down? Hm... how am I blanking??? What is something that you always turn down when offered? Certain foods or drinks, like tea. Name something sexy about your significant other. I don't have one'a those. What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up? Um, idk. As interests work, I may move away from any hobby eventually. If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be? Dance. If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be? Violin. Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? A mortician. That job doesn't even seem all that bad to me? I think it'd be kinda chill somehow???? I could NEVER be a surgeon. I'd be terrified of fucking something up. Have you ever been on a subway? No. Are you in love? No. Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? *eyes emoji* Do you want to get married when you’re older? Yes. What was the last band shirt you wore? PROBABLY my Metallica shirt? But I'm unsure, ultimately. You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose? Ugh, I've been wanting a nice chocolate milkshake for a while. Have you ever given someone flowers? For Mother's Day one year, I collected some wildflowers to put in a jar for Mom. I've also given Jason roses before. I really wanted to give Sara some when I surprised her for her birthday, but I didn't want to ask her parents to drive me somewhere where I could buy her some, ha ha. What day of the week is usually your busiest day? None. My days are all the same. Do you have any concerts coming up? No, but UGH, I was so hyped a few days ago because I saw Motionless In White was going on tour next year, but of course they're going to the big city on the OTHER end of the state versus the capital, which I'm way closer to. -_- Bands ALWAYS choose Charlotte on the super rare occasion they come to NC... Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Ugh, I hate it. What’s your favorite brand of chips? Doritos, maybe? Between Mountain Dew and those... I am such a fucking gamer stereotype lmfao. Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud? I think I had to before in school? Idr. Do you like pineapple? Love it. Does your house have a dishwasher? Yes. A dishwasher is one thing I MUST have in my own future house. I cannot stand touching dirty dishes. Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo? Oh, absolutely. Sunflower tattoos are especially popular around here. How many different languages can you say goodbye in? English, German, and uhhh Spanish? Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies. I don't mind them. I've never understood the hate, honestly? I think he's capable of being funny. Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for? Only by myself when I was a kid losing my baby teeth. Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail? Nooooo. If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it? Fuck no, I hate it. What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds? I don't like those. Do you get cold easily? No, but I get hot extremely easily. Do you get a lot of spiders in your house? I don't think so, no. Do you admire nature? I positively adore nature. If only we treated it better... Name one naughty thing you’ve done. Done sexual things in places I probably shouldn't have, oops. Name two of your favorite things as a child. Pokemon and Webkinz. Do you own a Pillow Pet? No. They're cute, though. My niece has one. Do you tend to solve problems with violence? Absolutely not. Have either of your parents gone to jail? No. Do you know a hoarder? Yes. Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows? I just leave 'em be, honestly. Do you have any interesting scar stories? Not really. Do you hate the texture of meatballs? No, I love me some meatballs. Do you get migraines? Very, very rarely. They fucking suck. Do you like guns? NOOOOOOO guns terrify me alsd;kjfal;sdjfk Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') How much time do you spend taking surveys? A whole lot. It's just that I'm like... always bored and the randomness of surveys can add interesting little flares to the day, I guess. Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, for sure. Would you like to work at a candy shop? No. I don't want to work directly with people. Do you have feelings for someone? It's funny; now that I've settled the extreme indecision, I've come to realize that they're very strong feelings. How you go from being indecisive to really, really liking somebody, hell if I know. Which one of your guy friends is the best looking? Uhhh Girt is like my only real guy friend, so I guess it's by default him, ha ha. I'm not particularly attracted to him, but he's not ugly by any means. Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf? I'm so sorry. Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player? Either Ozzy or Metallica. Most likely Ozzy, though. Which song describes your mood at the moment? Hm. I dunno. Which movie(s) do you quote the most? None, really. Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date? None; we don't share irl friends, being many states apart, and not even that many online ones. Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? I don't have my own car. Which one of your friends will be the most successful? I'm not psychic. What store did you last shop at? Mom and I picked up a Wal-Mart order the other day. Do you think telepathy is real? Absolutely not. When did you last draw something for fun? A few days ago, I started a drawing of Maieykio for Sara. Who makes the most in your entire family? I have no idea. Do you like writing essays? I don't mind, if the topic interests me. Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? Nah. Well, I think you can take it to an visual extreme, but that's just my opinion. Do what makes you comfortable in your own body. Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up? It's picked up. When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands? The inside of my elbow. Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? It usually happened at night. Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? Haven't taken it yet. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? OH MY GOD NEITHER Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: No one, really? Well, unless you count my change of feelings for Girt, but it's just that: a type of change. I've loved him platonically since high school, and it's like, I feel the same for him, just in a romantic way now? Does your car have a sunroof? No. Are you closer to your mom or your dad? My mom. Have you ever had a friend with benefits? Nope, not how I roll. Who’s the last person you cuddled with? Sara. Unless you count my cat. Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook? Former teachers, yes. I feel kinda bad for 'em now... They're all the sweetest, God-fearing people, and then there's my outspoken (online) and liberal ass sharing shit that's gotta disappoint them now lmaoooo.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''somebody that i used to know'' by gotye

[crocodileniall]

masterlist    wattpad 

1.2 in which Julianna decides longing is best for both of them 

warnings: swearing & alcohol use 

word count: 2086

When Julianna didn’t see Niall for three whole days, she about burst. Those feelings, the crush ones, were bubbling up inside of her and she just knew they’d come out soon. 

Niall showed up wearing jeans and a sweater that all but swallowed him whole, well Julianna had a hard time keeping her cool. This time around Gordy took interest in him, sniffing at his shoes. 

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” Niall murmured, squatting to look him in the eyes. He held his hand out to let Gordy sniff him. His tail wagged as he looked up at him. Niall scratched him on the head, smiling up at Julianna. “I think we’re friends now.” 

“Gordy is a bad judge of character,” Julianna shook her head, swatting at his wagging tail. “Cut it out.” 

Gordy glanced at her and went back to inspecting Niall. He stood, the poem book in his hands. “I have comments.” 

“Oh do ya?” She asked, sitting down in her chair. 

Niall sat on the sofa across from her. He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper with hand writing that could only be described as scribbles. Niall cleared just throat. “My favorite poem is on page 30. The gory one about sharp lips or something?”

“Ah,” Julianna nodded. “That’s a good one.” 

“It is,” Niall agreed. He shifted on the couch, eyes scanning over the paper in his hand. “And on fourteen. I liked when you described it as a ‘superfluous love affair that I didn’t want or need’. It was interesting. Because it’s like why didn’t you want it?”

“Well I didn’t want it because he was a lot older than me and...” she trailed of shrugging. “I just knew that it was wrong. The whole entire thing.” 

“How old?” Niall asked, eyebrows raising. 

“I was eighteen when I wrote that. He must’ve been about thirty two?” Julianna guessed. 

“There’s so many things wrong with that,” Niall muttered, looking up from his paper at her. 

“I know,” Julianna agreed. “But it’s not something you understand until you’re older. Me now thinks without a doubt in my mind that he was a predator. But I was too young to realize that.” 

“Wow,” Niall murmured. 

“Yeah,” Julianna chuckled. “But um that’s not exactly public knowledge so I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell the tabloids.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Niall chuckled. He cleared his throat looking back down at his paper. “And then the one graphic sex poem? Page eighty. What the fuck is that about?”

Julianna laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I can hardly explain it. It came to me in a dream.”

“Jesus fuck,” Niall laughed. “Who’s the lucky lad?” 

“This guy I met in LA,” Julianna told him with an almost disgusted look on her face. “We had a three day long love affair. Most ridiculous guy I’ve ever met. More ridiculous than you, even.” 

Niall laughed, setting his paper down on the table. He shook his head, “not sure if I should take that as a complement or what.” 

“Usually take whatever I say with a grain of salt. I’m full of shit. So are my poems.” Julianna told him, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal. 

“Well all great stories tellers are full of shit,” Niall agreed. “My songs? First seven albums all full of shit. I barely had a hand in writing them. The last two were my pride.”

“Were they?” She asked. “I’d love to listen to them. Do you have copies?” 

“No,” Niall shook his head. “Considering I came out her to forget about those times I don’t reckon I’d bring them with me.” 

“Well that’s sad,” Julianna murmured. “You can’t forget about them. You’ll be forced to make peace with those times whether you want to or not.”

“I’m not ready to,” Niall responded, looking around the place. 

“You’ll know when you’re ready,” Julianna assured him. 

“And how’s that?”

“For me I found myself able to perform even my hardest poems,” Julianna told him, nodding gently. “The ones that were hard to write and even harder to read. That’s how I knew when I was ready to not feel the past so deeply. For you it might be simply listening to an old song. You’ll know, though.” 

The way that she spoke in an all-telling way Niall just knew she was full of shit. Considering his own track record, it could be said that he too was full of shit. It didn’t stop him from believing her every word. 

After a moment, Niall decided to ask, “so how’s this crush thing coming along? Are we on track? Anything I can do to speed things along?”

Julianna laughed, shaking her head. A gentle smile settled her lips. “I think we’re right on track.” 

Niall hummed, looking her over. “Any poems you care to share?” 

“Absolutely not,” Julianna shook her head. “I never let my crush’s hear my poems. They have to read them in my book like everyone else.” 

“That’s torture,” Niall laughed.  

“Alright what are you doing tonight?” Julianna asked, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. 

“Depends on what you have in mind,” he chuckled, eyebrows raising skeptically. 

Julianna stood up, ambling into the kitchen. She opened up her liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whisky. “We are doing pickle shots.” 

“Pickle shots?” Niall repeated, nose scrunching in disgust. “I don’t like pickles.” 

“I don’t care if you do or not come here,” Julianna instructed, pulling out two cups and two shot glasses. 

Niall let out a sigh, exasperated as if her entire existence exhausted him. “Fine.” 

“Now this is my favorite thing to do,” Julianna smiled, opening the fridge. She pulled out a jar that had green pickle juice in it. “You take a shot and then drink the pickle juice.” 

Niall leaned on the counter, watching as she poured whisky into the shot glasses and pickle juice into the cups. She set down one of each in front of him, smiling triumphantly. 

“I can take whisky straight,” Niall scoffed, shrugging. 

“Don’t be a big man. Do it with me,” Julianna urged, holding her shot up, wiggling it in the air with a grin. 

Niall sighed, taking the shot in one hand, pickle juice in the other. Julianna grabbed her pickle juice, counting down from three. 

At one, they tossed their head back, taking the whisky. Before the pain settled in, they swallowed pickle juice down. Julianna slammed her glass down, laughing, not caring for the pickle juice that sloshed over the side. 

“I’ll admit,” Niall laughed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “That shockingly works. Like really well.” 

“I know,” Julianna chuckled. “We’re doing like four more of those.” 

“Jesus fuck,” Niall laughed as she began pouring another round. 

“I at some point always get drunk with my crushes,” Julianna admitted, shamelessly. “And you will be no exception. And you will spill your guts tonight.” 

“My lips are sealed,” he murmured. But they weren’t. And he knew they weren’t. If Julianna weren’t so persistent he’d be safe but she had a pair of eyes on her that just coaxed it out of him. 

It wasn’t his fault, Niall reasoned. They were three shots deep and Julianna’s cheeks were flushed. She was laughing at everything and it made it a little hard to breath. 

“No tell me the story about this girl. Whoever she was. That called you a narcissist,” Julianna urged, opting to forgo a shot and instead filling her glass with whisky. 

“She was a model,” Niall responded without hesitation. “We dated for a few months. It started out as a fling but apparently it was good our names were together on the papers.” 

“Interesting,” Julianna nodded, collapsing on the couch beside him. “And so it ended badly or what?” 

“I mean I didn’t think it ended badly. We just went separate ways,” Niall chuckled. “And then I turn out to be a narcissist? In a fictional relationship.”

“Utter bullshit!” Julianna announced, it an objectively bad English accent. 

Niall laughed, shaking his head. “That was horrible.” 

“I know,” Julianna laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “So this girl? Tell me more about her.” 

“She was a trust fund baby,” Niall began slowly. He paused. “Why do you want to know so much about this girl?” 

“I’m just wondering why she’d make claims like that,” Julianna shrugged. “It’s quite a serious thing to be labeled as a narcissist.” 

“It is,” Niall nodded. “I dunno. She did coke in the bathroom at parties.” 

Julianna let out a startled laugh, looking up at him. “Well there we have it. Delirium. Side effect of cocaine use. We leak it to The Sun and there goes her credibility. Suddenly Niall Horan opens up about ex girlfriends drug addiction. She goes to rehab. Our problems are solved.” 

“Oh my god,” Niall laughed, eyebrows furrowed almost wildly. “That’s insane. Like completely mad. That’s exactly what I’m not going to do.” 

“Well apparently you’re not interested in getting your name cleared, then!” Julianna cried. “I was only trying to help.”

“You are helping,” Niall murmured, eyes drifting down to look at her. 

Julianna’s heart raced. It was hard to swallow. She was looking up at him and his eyes. God the way he looked at her. It should be a crime. Julianna could always tell when someone was about to kiss her and this time it was no exception. 

Julianna stood up abruptly, ice clinking in her glass. She walked back to the kitchen, opening up the cupboards, not entirely sure what she was looking for. “Are you hungry?” She called over her shoulder. 

Niall was rubbing his neck, a small smile on his face. “Sure. Whatever you’re having.” 

Julianna pulled a bag of popcorn out, tossing it in the microwave. She took a gulp of whisky, setting the glass down on the counter. “You knew didn’t you?” Niall accused. 

“What?” She asked, almost affronted. Her eyes drifted away from him, not willing to incriminate herself. 

“You knew I was going to kiss you,” Niall accused. As an afterthought, “or that I was thinking about it.”

“So what if I did,” Julianna shrugged. 

“I’m wondering why the fuck you got up?” He asked, eyes narrowing at her from across the room. 

“Because it’s not time yet,” Julianna laughed, cheeks getting impossibly redder. “And I thought you of all people would respect the creative process but all you’ve done is try to fuck with it.”

 “Okay,” Niall laughed, shaking his head. “When do you realize that I’m not actively trying to ruin your creative process I just really wanted to fucking kiss you?” 

“That’s unprecedented,” Julianna shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”

“Why?” Niall chuckled. 

“Because you don’t confess a crush first!” Julianna exclaimed. 

“Well I already knew you had a crush on me!” Niall exclaimed, laughing. “It was pretty obvious. We’ve been talking about it for how long?” 

Softly, Julianna murmured, “it’s not ready yet.” 

 “Okay,” Niall chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “It’s kind of unfair that this is on your terms.” 

“That’s between me and myself,” Julianna told him as she opened the microwave. She pulled the popcorn out and sat down beside him on the sofa. 

Julianna opened the bag, offering Niall some. He took a handful, leaning back against the sofa. Julianna propped her legs up on the coffee table. “Now tell me about your crushes.” 

“I don’t have crushes,” Niall responded a bit dryly. “There are people that I find attractive and then I either tell them or kiss them.”

“That’s it?” Julianna asked, eyebrows raised. “That is so boring.”

“How is it boring?” He laughed. “It works.”

“I’m afraid this is going to have to go on much much longer,” Julianna shook her head. “Until you’re absolutely bursting with emotions.” 

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he chuckled, reaching his hand down to grab some more popcorn. 

“It’s not,” Julianna smiled, sitting up. “Because it’s so worth it. To long for someone for so long it feels like you’ll die. And just when you think it’s too much, you look in their eyes and you see it too. And then the kiss? Fuck. And then the sex that comes after? Fuck!” She yelled. “Incredible.” 

Niall couldn’t help but laugh. Julianna didn’t convince him but since she apparently had more experience with crushes, he’d trust her. It’s possible it will turn out as the worst thing he’s ever done. 

// 

let me know your thoughts, how you’re feeling, what you liked, what you disliked! 

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#Never Enough Au #Niall Horan fanficiton #Niall Horan #this is an objectively boring chapter!

[reddeadrevival]

Hey! Could you do a HC for Arthur and John (and any gang members you'd like to add!) when they have a crush on someone and how they'd act after finding out their crush returns their feelings? Thanks!

Please check if the ask box is open AND read my “What I write” post before sending in an ask. Thank you.  

(A red heart means high Fluff, a green heart means low/med. angst)

Okay some of these I went with it being that the two of you had then gotten together after he found out while others I went with as he found out not by you and that you don’t know that he shares the same feelings. If that makes ANY sense at all whatsoever.

This totally inspired me, I didn’t think I’d write about as many as I did! This got long so that’s why there’s a Read More.

some angst in the last one (for Micah)

Arthur

Super happy

Will smile at you more than he normally does

He’ll be the one to initiate the first time you hold hands (and most times after)

He wonders what would your kids look like- wait Kids?

Yeah he wants you to have kids with him

He thinks he could do the father thing if it was with you

He daydreams about you two living in a huge house

Your two kids running around in the lawn

With the dog

He daydreams about life with you often

He’ll write about it in his journal

He will draw you at your wedding

He’ll hide his journal much more than before

If you ever saw those pages he honestly thinks his heart would stop

He’s so in love with you but doesn’t want to scare you away

When this boy falls he falls HARD

John

This is GREAT

He can’t believe it! You like him the way he likes you? YES!

What does he do now?

Presents

People like presents

But what to get you

Flowers

Flowers are nice

Are those weeds or flowers?

They’ll do, it’s the thought that counts right

They’re weeds

He gave you weeds

But he did it with such a smile on his face that you didn’t even notice

Not that smooth at asking you out on a date lbr

But give him mercy and say yes because the boy’s trying

He’s not great at the romance

He’ll go to Dutch for advice

“Read her poetry? Really? I dunno, Dutch”

“Trust me on this, son,”

And he does

He’s flustered and honestly doesn’t understand the poem he’s reading

The effort he’s put into the date makes you take pity on him and end his suffering

By kissing him of course

Those lips can do better things that read poetry and he agrees wholeheartedly

Kieran

As if he wasn’t nervous af before you knew about his feelings

He’ll be hella nervous now

Even more blushing and stuttering

What if he messes up?

Says the wrong thing? Does the wrong thing?

How does he get you to go out with him now?

What’s the next step?

WHAT SHOULD HE DO?

He would so go to Arthur for help (“Arthur, I-I need yer advice”)

He’ll bring you flowers

(more than he already brought you as “a gift for a friend”)

He’ll give you actual flowers though not weeds

He may need some reassurance from time to time that you wanna be with him once you’re together

And while he’ll never say anything, it’s easy to see when he needs that extra peck on the cheek or squeeze of the hand

For about the first week you probably won’t see his normally skin color on his face

It seems he’s always blushing (it’ll actually concern you but he’ll assure you he’s fine)

Sean

If you didn’t know his feelings before (how could you not lbr)

You will now

He’ll shout it from the rooftops

I wish I was speaking metaphorically

Well not the rooftops but he will climb a tree

Or onto one of the wagons (while Grimshaw yells at him to get down)

He’s so excited to know you like him the same way

He’ll be super smug and cocky about it, definitely

“Knew ya couldn’t resist tha Macguire charm!”

Say goodbye to chairs

His lap is the only chair he’ll have you sit in when he’s around

He’ll still flirt with you as if you weren’t going out

Especially when drunk

He’s the type to ask you if you’re single even though he’s already in a relationship with you

Then pout when you say you’re not single

Bill

Won’t believe it

He’ll think someone’s playing a prank on him

He’ll do his best not to react as he looks for whoever must be hiding in the bushes

He’ll distant himself a bit at first

Pretend he wasn’t super happy to hear about your feelings

That his heart didn’t flip with joy

That he didn’t want to just pick you up, twirl you around and kiss you right there in front of everybody

You’ll have to tell him a second time

Convince him that you really do return his feelings

“You know me, Bill, I wouldn’t trick you like this,”

He wants so desperately for it to be true

But he doesn’t want to get his hopes up

“If ya really do like me…then kiss me,”

Surely if you were joking you wouldn’t kiss hi-

You’re kissing him

He can’t breath

The feel of your lips pressed to his is all he can feel

He lets his joy show and soon he’s spinning around with you in his arms

Micah

“Ya really shouldn’t,”

He knows you could do better

That there are better men/good men out there that you deserve

He knows he doesn’t deserve you

But damn does it make his heart swell when you tell him

He doesn’t wanna drag you down with him

He wants to make sure you’re safe and protected

He needs to know that you’re committed

He’s in this for the long run

He won’t be able to let you go that easily now that he knows you feel the same way

Is he a bit possessive? Oh yeah

But only because he doesn’t want to lose you

He’s an outlaw and that already puts you in danger

“I can keep ya safe, but you gotta stay with me wherever I go and whatever I do”

This makes him sound kinda “yandere” but it’s not meant to

He accepts the fact that one day you might wise up and leave him

Will he try to stop you? Yes

Will he let you go?

As much as he doesn’t want to and as much as it’ll hurt

Yes

Until that day he’s going to enjoy it

For however long it lasts

He’ll savor every touch, every kiss, every smile directed at him

He’s not the best at communicating his feelings but he’ll make sure you know how crazy he is about you

I honestly don’t know what happened with that Micah one, that got kinda angsty and I’m sorry.

(Master List)

#rdr2 x reader #Arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #john marston #john marston x reader #kieran duffy #Kieran Duffy x reader #Sean macguire #sean macguire x reader #bill williamson #bill williamson x reader #micah bell #micah bell x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 headcanons #Anon #RedDeadRevival #Answered Asks