#I wrote him a letter in middle school asking for writing advice and he wrote back <3

[azuramarigold]

Let's Write A Story Together

Maya Fey is a famous author that has gotten herself into some trouble - someone is leaving letters at her home and gifts at her events claiming to be a secret admirer. Obviously creeped out and paranoid she turns to her lawyer sister who refers her to her junior associate, Phoenix Wright, to help Maya with the case.

Day 3 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge - "Writer"

** TRIGGER WARNING: There is stalking involved! **

Day 3 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge - this one being "Writer"! I chose Maya to be the main character as the "writer" as I've read many fanfics of her being a fanfiction writer herself for "Steel Samurai" lol

AO3 DAY 1 DAY 2

Day 3: Writer

No one told her that her life of being a famous author was going to be this extreme.

            Maya Fey was a Young Adult fiction writer – famous for writing romance novels based on spirit mediums in a reclusive village and young samurais that acted almost like princes to said mediums. It was something of a fantasy that she thought she would have since she was a little girl since she grew up in a small town and wished to be whisked away by a knight in shining armor.

            It started with small writing competitions that she did in middle school and high school. She won some awards. Her sister encouraged her to continue her writing and creativity. Maya ended up going to community college and got a small degree in creative writing and literature.

            After a few years of short stories being published that were not too successful, she decided on a novel instead. It was an overnight sensation to the point where people demanded sequels – so that was she did. She wrote a few sequels and they ended up being turned into a small television series that did a cross-over with the “Steel Samurai” TV series.

            It was amazing to be recognized for once for her talents in her writing. Maya felt on top of the world.

            That was until she kept getting many gifts and letters from a “Secret Admirer”. It really freaked her out as it was going directly to her loft and didn’t have her address written on it. Maya found that she was looking over her shoulder constantly, eyeing every event to see if there was anyone out of the ordinary.

            After three months of constant paranoia, she finally had to ask her elder sister – Mia Fey – for legal advice as she was a lawyer.

            “A stalker situation?” Mia mused when the two were in her office at “Fey and Co. Law Offices”. “I’m afraid I personally can’t take your case due to conflict of interest…”

            “Aw… really?” Maya whined.

            “My junior partner can help you though,” Mia informed with a smile. “He’s still a little new but I think he can help you out.”

            “New?” Maya questioned skeptically. “Hasn’t the guy been working for you for a few years now?”

            “He had to take some time off the last couple of years,” Mia mentioned with a grimace. “He’s getting back into the swing of things.”

            Maya gave a groan, “So, you couldn’t give me a referral to Grossberg or even Diego…?”

            Mia rolled her eyes. “You met Phoenix one time, cut him some slack,” she lightly laughed. “He’s a good guy.”

            “He said he didn’t like samurai stuff…” Maya pouted as she crossed her arms.

            “Do you want a discounted, low-profile case or not?” Mia sternly asked her little sister, suddenly cutting off her playfulness.

            Maya jolted. She would much rather have this stalker case on the down low. “Okay… fine… when is he in?” she finally sighed in defeat.

            “Oh, I’m free right now actually,” a low voice said from behind her chair.

            Maya yelped as she spun around to see Phoenix Wright standing behind her. He was much taller than her, about a foot and a half, and broad shouldered. As always he wore his traditional blue suit with black dress shoes and a red tie. However, since the last time she had seen him - which she’ll admit has been a few years - he had added a pale blue almost gray waistcoat underneath and his suit wasn’t buttoned up all the way. In the left breast pocket of the jacket, he had a golden chain that was sticking out that was peculiar.

            “Nice to meet you again, Ms. Fey,” Phoenix greeted with a small smile. He still had his jet-black spiked hair, but this time he had a stubborn piece that was sticking down his forehead. It took all of Maya’s willpower to not try to slick it back as it was annoying her. In the last few years his jawline squared up a bit more with age and maturity, however, his dark blue eyes still sparkled with the same immature wonder that he had when they had first met.

            “Uh… likewise, Mr. Wright…” Maya replied meekly. She felt herself slump down her chair, resisting the urge to pull her light purple rain jacket over her head to hide in embarrassment.

            Mia gave her younger sister a sly look. “Well… I must go investigate a crime scene,” she announced. “Phoenix, you have the key to lock up when you’re done if you finish the consultation early – don’t work too hard you too!” She then gathered her white leather purse and gave a wink and clacked away out of the office with her white heels.

            Phoenix gave a sigh, “Alright, we can head over to my desk over here…” He then led Maya to a smaller desk in the office that was an oak brown. It was still nice, but not nearly as extravagant as Mia’s. He had a small laptop that was open, and a few legal pads spread about; there were more doodles of random characters than there were legal notes, however. There were a couple of picture frames on his desk, but they were facing him so Maya couldn’t see who they were of. “So, a stalker, huh?” Phoenix then asked casually.

            “Uh… yeah…” Maya admitted wearily.

            “I usually do murder cases,” Phoenix wistfully said, twirling a pen between his fingers. “But might as well nip it in the bud before it turns into one, right?”

            Maya grimaced. “If that was your attempt of a joke… that was in poor taste…” she told him with a deep frown.

            Phoenix made a face. “Uh… sorry… that was my bad…” he sheepishly whispered as he rubbed the back of his head with a free hand. He then went over to his laptop. “So… about five books in your series, huh?” he commented with a low whistle. “That’s impressive… I think the last time we had talked you had only two…?”

            “And now I’ve also written three mini novellas,” Maya smirked confidentially.

            “My daughter likes the TV show, and she loved the crossover with the ‘Steel Samurai’,” he said offhandedly. Phoenix then realized what he said and then immediately tried to backpedal, “Oh, what I mean was-”

            Maya gasped, “I didn’t know you had a daughter!”

            “She’s… adopted…” he explained slowly. “I adopted her a couple of years ago after a trial went south…”

            Was that what Mia meant that he took a couple of years off…?

            “What’s her name?” Maya asked lightly.

            Phoenix glanced over from his laptop. “I’m sorry?”

            “Your daughter… what’s her name?”

            “Trucy…”

            “Oh, that’s a lovely name!” Maya complimented with a smile. “How old is she?”

            “She… just turned ten last month.”

            Maya gave an awkward chuckle, “Oh, good thing you said she was adopted because you look way too young to be a dad to a ten-year-old!”

            Phoenix gave her a side look with a small smirk. “Yeah… I’ve been told that…” he mentioned. He did a few clicks on his laptop, which Maya had to suppress a giggle as he was comically slow at it as he used one finger at a time to type. “Okay… when did you start noticing the stalking?”

            Maya put her hand to her cheek. “I don’t know… maybe five months ago…?” she guessed. There was slow typing. “It was a couple of letters at first… I noticed my address wasn’t written on them and they were all the same handwriting…”

            “No return address either?” Phoenix pressed lightly.

            Maya nodded. She then continued, “Then there were flowers at random book signing events. I thought they were from the venues until I noticed it was the same handwriting…” She then started to rub the upper part of her arms as though she were getting a chill.

            “Have there been any incidents at your book signing events or book tours?” Phoenix then asked curiously. “Or at any of your tours involving the TV show?”

            “I… don’t think there was anything odd…?” Maya confessed, her putting her head in her hands. “It’s just… really creeping me out. I know a lot of die-hard fans go to most of my events… I recognize some people’s faces… but could one of them really be a creepy stalker?”

            Phoenix gave a small shrug. “You’re famous and we are in Los Angeles… sadly, even someone of your stature could end up being crazy,” he pointed out.

            “I’m not crazy!” Maya shouted angrily.

            Phoenix raised his hands in defense from his laptop. “I didn’t say you were!” he insisted, his mouth twisted in a frown and his eyes furrowed angrily. “I just said someone of your stature – as in petite and cute!” Again, he realized what he said as a blush crept on his cheeks. He shook his head violently. “Anyway, first things first – we don’t have any useful information here to file a petition of a restraining order.”

            “A… restraining order…?” Maya echoed.

            “That is correct,” Phoenix said. “It is the first line of defense against a stalker. Unfortunately, depending on the stalker, they end up breaking it. However, because they do it is immediate jail time.”

            Maya raised a brow. “What… if it becomes violent…?” she asked in a small voice.

            Phoenix shook his head. “Oh, I won’t let it come to that…” he assured.

            “And how so…?”

            “Because I have a little girl that happens to know a few… tricks and we are going to find out who your stalker is right away and rest assured, they’ll never bother you again, Ms. Fey!”

            “Maya.”

            “Hmm?”

            “You can call me ‘Maya’, Mr. Wright.”

            A chuckle escaped the attorney. “Then, you can call me ‘Phoenix’.”

            She tapped her chin. “Nah, I think I would rather call you ‘Nick’,” she told him, noticing his eyes widen slightly.

            “Uh… okay…”

            Maya didn’t hesitate to sign on the dotted line of the contract that Phoenix had drafted up for her.

**

Maya didn’t get anything from the stalker for two weeks – which she thought was strange.

            Phoenix had stopped by her loft the couple weeks after the consultation per Maya’s request since she was out of town, his ten-year-old daughter in tow with a box of magic props in both of their hands. The girl was dressed in a magician’s uniform complete with a black unitard, pink cape with a teal diamond clasp, white gloves, white boots, and her brunette hair tied back and under a pink top hat. Her ocean blue eyes were large and round, filled with wonder and excitement.

            “Oh, hello,” Maya had greeted the young girl. “You must be Trucy, right?”

            “I’m Trucy Wright, yes!” the small girl beamed, trying not to chuckle at her own joke.

            Phoenix gave a laugh. “She loves that her last name is a pun now…” he explained to Maya, him rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a smile. He was not wearing his blue suit that she was used to seeing him wear. Instead, he wore a light blue, short-sleeved button up with jeans and white sneakers.

            “Are you going to be my new Mommy?” Trucy asked suddenly. “You’re very pretty like Daddy says you are!”

            Maya was taken aback by the sudden question, feeling her eyes go wide. “Wha…?”

            Phoenix slapped a hand over his daughter’s mouth. “HA HA HA!” he forced a laugh. “Aren’t little kids adorable!?” he stressed with a forced smile. With a low hiss Maya could hear Phoenix say to Trucy, “Trucy Artemis Wright… how many times did I say on the way over here not to mention that!?”

            “At least twelve, Daddy!” Trucy happily squealed loudly.

            Phoenix took off the girl’s hat and patted her head. “Okay… now go rig what you have to rig, my little Magical Girl!” he told her with a wink.

            “Okay, Daddy!” Trucy went off like a whirlwind.

            “Uh…” Maya then said nervously.

            Phoenix gave a small jump. “Oh, I’m sorry about Trucy!” he apologized. “She just… get’s excited when meeting a new person!” he explained gently. “Especially if they are a woman…”

            “How many times did she try to ask my sister to be her ‘Mommy’?” Maya asked slyly. Mia was a drop-dead gorgeous woman with assets in all the right departments to boot with intelligence and a great job– of course Trucy would get attached and want someone like that in her life.

            Phoenix gave her a confused look. “Huh? Oh, none…” he told her honestly, him giving a light chuckle as he scratched behind his head again.

            Maya gave a surprised look. “Wait… what…?”

            “She was ‘Aunt Mia’ right on the spot,” Phoenix shrugged.

            Trucy finally came back by the front door and was putting her final touches. She had apparently rigged a pully system from the front door that would alert Maya if someone was there. In turn a mechanism would activate and cause blue dye to explode from a balloon that was rigged behind the mail slot on her door. A camera would take a picture that was rigged in the corner of the doorway.

            “Wouldn’t it have been easier… to get a doorbell camera…?” Maya offered, a slight frown tugging her lips. “I could’ve done that from the get-go.”

            Phoenix and Trucy looked at each other.

            “Then that wouldn’t be as fun!” Trucy shouted with a pout. She then took off her hat and pulled out a rubber chicken to put next to the door. “For good luck!” she stated as her father rolled his eyes, not understanding how a rubber chicken would be for good luck.

            “Anyone can be caught on a camera,” Phoenix pointed out as he crossed his arms. “But the blue dye will really catch the culprit! Can’t miss someone with a bunch of blue!”

            Is that why he wears a blue suit for court…? He’s a good-looking guy but sometimes he’s a little out there in the head…

            “I have a regular mail carrier, you know!” Maya snapped at him, finally getting angry. “And what about guests that drop by?”

            Phoenix grimaced. “Shit… I forgot about that…”

            “‘Plan B’, Daddy?” Trucy offered sadly.

            “Yeah…”

            A piece of mail went through the mail slot, causing Trucy’s contraption to go off. The loud scream of the mail carrier pierced their ears as Maya opened the door. A large man was in front of the door, a large splotch of blue die on his face and on his mail carrier uniform.

            “Ohmygosh, Mr. Carrison!” Maya gasped in shock. “I’m so sorry…!”

            All the mail carrier did was hand the rest of her mail personally, one of them a personal letter and told her a young man from downstairs handed it to him to give to her, turned his heel, and left. Maya stood in her doorway dumbfounded as the letter was in her hand.

            “I’ll… deduct the cleaning bill you’re going to pay for from your legal fees…?” Phoenix meekly offered.

            Maya only looked at the letter in her hand – again it was her name and no address. It was the same handwriting from her stalker.

**

Maya sat in a bookstore at a table with a stack of books next to her – it was the last one in her series she had written, and the store asked her to do a signing.

            It was a smaller store – and she loved going to the smaller places to help them boost their business. When it was a little slower, she was typing on her laptop, working on the next book in her series, sipping on green tea with a bit of honey.

            “Can you sign a book for me, Ms. Maya?” a familiar small voice asked.

            Maya looked up from her laptop to see a familiar pink top hat. Trucy was bobbing up and down, clutching in her hands the first book in Maya’s series. Phoenix was standing behind Trucy, him glancing slightly away.

            “Oh, of course Trucy!” Maya said excitedly to the young girl. “Is this the first time you’re reading one of them?”

            “Yes, it is!” Trucy squealed giddily. “I really like the TV show! But Daddy says that the books are always better then the movie or show!”

            Maya glanced over to him. “Did he now?” she asked with a small smile. “Well… your daddy is ‘Wright’.” She gave Trucy a small wink, which caused the young girl to giggle and Phoenix to roll his eyes, but Maya saw the smirk on his face.

            “Thank you, Ms. Maya!” Trucy said happily as she took her newly signed book and trotted away.

            Maya closed her laptop and pushed it aside. “So, how did you know I was going to be here?” she asked Phoenix when she noticed he didn’t immediately follow her. She gave a devious smirk, “Am I sure you’re not my stalker and trying to just make a quick buck off of me by being my lawyer?”

            Phoenix gave her an exasperated look. “Oh, ha ha…” he sarcastically laughed. “As much as that would amuse you, Trucy learned about this event from her school.”

            Maya raised a brow, knowing that there was more.

            “And Mia mentioned it too.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

            When Maya was about to say something smart back at him, there was a small commotion of someone stumbling through the aisleways. Someone was knocking into the bookshelves, some books falling to the ground and being kicked away. In the person’s arms was an array of different balloons and an arrangement of flowers.

            “Got a special delivery for a Ms. Maya Fey,” the person announced, a male voice. He began setting stuff on the table and he immediately gawked at Phoenix. “Yo, Nick! How have ya been!?”

            “LARRY!?” Phoenix shouted in surprise. “What the hell are you doing here!?” he then demanded.

            Larry gestured at the items as though it were obvious. “Uh… delivering?”

            The delivery man, Larry, was tall and lanky, his light brown hair sticking off to his right side messily, and his goatee was kept neatly trimmed. He was wearing a navy-blue jacket with a logo on it that depicted him from a delivery service along with wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers.

            “Oh, hi again…” Maya greeted with a small wave, she looked slightly nervous and offput.

            Phoenix shot her a look. “You’ve… met him before…?”

            Maya gave a shrug. “He’s always the one that delivers this stuff at my events…” she informed him as she looked for the sender’s card.

            “Well, I’m off!” Larry announced with a grin. “More deliveries!” He promptly left.

            Maya grimaced as she saw the card with the handwriting. “Really!?” she gasped in shock. “Again!? Why…!?”

            Phoenix then took the card from her and for once really examined the handwriting. His eyes immediately furrowed in anger. “Oh… that son of a bitch!” he growled.

            Maya jumped at Phoenix’s tone. “Um… hey… what’s the matter…?” she then asked him gently.

            “I know this handwriting…!” Phoenix told her, his voice tight. “Can you watch Trucy for me for a… an hour or two?”

            Maya glanced over at Trucy, who was sitting at a table a few feet away happily reading.

            “Yeah… I can watch her…”

            “Thanks, I’ll be right back.”

📓📓📓

Phoenix was pounding on Larry Butz’s door – his fist repeatedly colliding against the wood.

            He had run back to his apartment and dressed in his blue suit and grabbed his briefcase. As he heard Larry grumble that he was on his way to the door, Phoenix adjusted his tie with his now sore hand. It was taking everything he had not to bulldoze his way through into the apartment.

            The door opened and Larry appeared, no longer in the delivery “uniform” but in his light orange jacket and white t-shirt combo.

            “Oh, hey, Nick!” Larry greeted him with his dopey smile. “What’s up, man?” Phoenix then proceeded to pull out a letter from his briefcase and handed it to Larry. “Uh… what is this, Bro?”

            “A restraining order,” Phoenix lowly said. “Follow it very well.”

            “A… restraining order!?” Larry squawked in shock as he began to read it. “From Maya Fey!?” He looked up at Phoenix. “Aww… dude… why? She’s so cute!”

            Phoenix glared at him with a clenched jaw. “Stalking,” he simply said.

            “S-Stalking!?” Larry sputtered. “I-I have never done that!”

            Phoenix gave a wolf-like smile. “Oh… really?” he simply asked. He then proceeded to pull out the few letters of many that Maya had received over the last six months. “Then what are these?”

            “Anyone can send letters, Nick,” Larry huffed, crossing his arms.

            “With the same handwriting as you!?” Phoenix demanded angrily. “No address to her whatsoever!? Flowers and gifts at every event she has!? And you happen to be the delivery driver!?” He then pulled out another record that he pulled up at his work laptop at home and printed before coming to the apartment. “Let’s see… you started your delivery job… oh wow… six months ago…! But you were fired after tapping into addresses for personal gain.”

            Larry’s brown eyes widened. “Hey, man!” he shouted as he threw open his door wider. “Everyone at that job did that, not just me!”

            Phoenix scoffed, “Yet, you’re the only idiot that was caught?”

            “Dude!”

            “Don’t ‘Dude’ me!” Phoenix screamed, throwing his papers at Larry. “You were stalking her! For what!?”

            Larry scratched his cheek. “Well… she’s pretty cute… I’ve said ‘hi’ to her, but she really didn’t want to talk to me… so I expressed my feelings through letters…” he explained in a small voice, putting his two forefingers together.

            Phoenix wanted nothing more than to punch Larry in the face.

            “Why are you caught up with her anyways, Nick!?” Larry then demanded. “You seemed pretty cozy with her!”

            “I’m her lawyer!” Phoenix explained, his face flushing red.

            “Oh, people’s lawyers just go to their events with their daughters and buy their stuff!?” Larry threw in his face. “And go to their lofts to hang out off the clock? I think I recall you mentioning you thought she was a nice little thing a few years ago when you first met her!”

            Phoenix had enough and punched Larry in the jaw. “You’re talking about my boss’s little sister!” he shouted, feeling his heart pounding in his ears. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

            “Dude… what the fuck…!” Larry groaned in pain, rubbing his face.

            “Follow… that restraining order!” Phoenix growled through clenched teeth. “Or you’re going to jail, Butz.”

📓📓📓

“That description sounds a lot like my Daddy!”

            Trucy was reading over Maya’s shoulder of what she was typing on her laptop. Maya’s face immediately turned crimson as she slammed her laptop shut.

            “What…!?” the raven-hair author stammered. “N-No, it isn’t!”

            Trucy crossed her arms and looked slightly to the right. “Ms. Maya, that was a terrible lie…” the young girl pointed out. “You clutch at the hem of your shirt when you lie… you know that right?”

            Maya just stared at the young girl with wide, dark blue eyes. “Uh…”

            “My little girl is perceptive,” Phoenix’s voice interrupted as he joined her at her small table.

            “Oh, you’re back!” Maya said happily, a smile on her face. She then noticed that Phoenix was cradling his hand. “What did you do…?”

            “That asshole stalker isn’t going to bother you anymore…” Phoenix muttered. “Just like I said…”

            Maya gaped at him. “What… did you do…?” she repeated, this time her voice stern, trying to sound like her sister.

            “I punched Larry in his damn face,” Phoenix nonchalantly said.

            Maya put her face in her hands. “Nick… why…?” she whispered.

            “I gave him the restraining order first…” he pointed out.

            “Then you should’ve left it at that!” she insisted, her voice going high.

            “Not when he was going on about trying to validate why he was doing it!”

            Maya then slapped Phoenix’s now swollen hand. The attorney hissed in pain and tears sprung into his eyes. “That’s what you get!” she scolded him angrily. “You big dummy!”

            “OW!” Phoenix whined, him bringing his hand to his chest.

            Tears were Maya’s eyes too. “But… at the same time…” she then whispered softly, just barely loud enough for Phoenix to hear. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…” She then took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. She leaned forward across the table and pressed her lips against his. “Thank you…” she softly said.

            “Is that a tip for my great service or…?” Phoenix murmured against her lips with a smirk.

            “That’s later…”

            Trucy then sprung up between them from the side of the table. “As much as I want a new mommy, Daddy, this is gross as I am ten,” she told him, her hands on her hips.

            “TRUCY!” Phoenix yelped as he jolted backwards, his chair tipping as he collapsed onto the ground.

**

Ten months later and a new book in Maya’s series was released – it being the conclusion.

            Either consciously or subconsciously she had written this plot based on her recent events. It was about a spirit medium who had gone and met a man from a samurai village – who wasn’t a samurai that studied fighting physically but studied law instead. The young maiden got herself into trouble with another samurai who tried to entice her with nice gifts and sweet written words, but she refused the advances as the other samurai was an unknown entity.

            The samurai who studied law offered his services to the young spirit medium, along with his young daughter who studied magic, to find the culprit who was causing the maiden such distress. Come to find out, it was the friend of the law samurai – and the betrayal caused a duel to the death where the stalking samurai was slain as the law samurai was passionate for the maiden and wanted her protected. After the duel, the law samurai asked the spirit medium’s hand in marriage, and it was accepted.

            “You know, they’re calling this your weakest work,” Phoenix commented after reading a review from an online blog.

            Maya, who was sitting on one of the red couches at Fey and Co. Law Offices with Trucy, braiding the young girl’s hair, only gave a shrug.

            “They just have to read in-between the lines,” she huffed with a smile. “And… done!” She informed Trucy that her hair was done, and the small girl jumped off the couch excitedly.

            “Thank you, Maya!” Trucy said happily as she ran off to the reception area of the office.

            Phoenix gave a smile as he saw his daughter run off. He looked back at his laptop. “They don’t know if they want to include this one in the next season of the show…” he remarked to Maya. “I think it’s the best one!” He gave her a large smile.

            Maya rolled her eyes. “That’s because the main male is based off of you, you dummy,” she laughed at him as she poked his cheek when she approached his desk.

            “Needs more law though…” Phoenix commented with a sigh. “I can help in that department…”

            Maya gave a small glance down to him. “Well maybe in the mini novella…” she pointed out. “We can add a court scene to it…”

            “Oh…!” Phoenix beamed happily. “That would be fun!”

            “And… there might be a surprise in there too.” She then grabbed his hand that was on his desk and placed it gently on her stomach.

            “And… what…?” he asked in confusion. “Are you hungry…?”

            She gave him a hard glare. “No…” Then she gave it a second thought. “Well… yeah, I am… but that’s not what I’m trying to say!”

            Phoenix raised a brow. “Okay… maybe spell it out for me…?” he told her. “I need some incriminating evidence on what you’re trying to tell me here, hon…”

            Maya dropped his hand from her stomach and stalked over to her purse and began to search. When she found what she was looking for she threw it as hard as she could to Phoenix with a loud “TAKE THAT!”

            A white stick smacked him across the face and landed on his lap. As he picked it up and looked at it Trucy came back into the main part of the office with Mia in tow, her excitedly talking about a magic show performance she was going to do.

            “Wait… your pregnant!?” Phoenix shouted at Maya in shock, finally clicking together what she had been alluding to.

            A loud squeal erupted from the young girl in excitement as she literally tossed Mia’s hand away from her own. “A new main character, yay!” Trucy cheered as she ran up to Maya and threw her arms around her gently, her cheek affectionately on Maya’s still flat stomach.

            “Yes, Nick…!” Maya happily informed as Phoenix had gotten up from his desk and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, burying Trucy between them.

            “Daddy…!” Trucy complained. “I can’t breathe…!”

            Mia gave a small smirk as she went to her desk, happily eyeing the small, but growing family. “Can’t wait to pre-order that book,” she laughed blissfully.

Notes:

- Will I ever expand upon this? Perhaps... I enjoyed this concept. - Why did I choose Larry as the "antagonist"? Because... Larry. Think about it, in the FIRST GAME WITH THE FIRST CASE he went to Cindy Stone's apartment and was trying to bug her when it was obvious she was no longer interested in him. He is superficial when it comes to dating. In "Trials and Tribulations" he had even mentioned the reason why he wasn't in "Justice for All" was because he FOLLOWED A GIRL TO JAPAN and he was dumped. In the games he's not "creepy stalker level", but he had potential to get there, he was just "dumbass energy". - In this fic I would say Phoenix is about 28-29 while Maya is about 21-22.

#ace attorney #ace attorney fandom #fanfiction #a03 fanfic #ace attorney fanfiction #naruhodō ryūichi #phoenix wright #phoenix wright ace attorney #apollo justice ace attorney #phoenix wright ace attorney trilogy #maya fey #ayasato mayoi #mia fey #larry butz #narumayo #au agust #writer au #author au #alternate universe #canon divergent au #trucy wright #ao3 #ao3fic #ao3 writer #au gust 2023 #au gust #au august #day 3 writer #au august 2023 day 3 #au gust day 3

[ridiasfangirlings]

(Highschool au) Fushimi gets the advice of writing down what he can't say in a letter so he can tell someone how he feels without having to actually talk and makes a letter for Yata. He decides not to give it though but it accidentally falls from his bag and gets found by someone who hands it over to Yata. Fushimi never put his own name on it so Yata doesn't know it's him and wonders if this is some secret admirer.

Imagine Yata freaking out over the letter because he thinks a girl wrote it and there’s Fushimi being torn between never telling him ever and being irritated that Yata doesn’t even consider it could be from him. Like imagine Fushimi has been suffering in silence with his crush on Yata, maybe in this AU they had some kind of betrayal-esque falling out when they graduated middle school and then they reconcile in high school. Fushimi is fully aware of his crush on Yata but he knows that Yata would likely never reciprocate especially after Fushimi was so cruel to him when they were fighting, like of course there’s no way Misaki would want someone like me (and he probably thinks Yata has a crush on upperclassman Mikoto anyway). He’s pretty much decided to bury these feelings as deeply as possible in order to pretend they don’t exist but even so it’s weighing on him.

Fushimi is assisting with some work for the student council when student council president Munakata notes that he seems stressed as of late. Fushimi denies it, clicking his tongue and claiming it’s just because a certain annoying senpai keeps him busy all the time. Munakata smiles, ignoring the obvious jab, and wonders how Fushimi’s friendship with Yata-kun is progressing. Fushimi says that’s none of Munakata’s business and Munakata says that as student council president of course it is his business to ensure that all students are happy and fulfilled. Fushimi’s like no it actually isn’t and Munakata adds that if Fushimi is struggling with the turbulent feelings of youth perhaps writing such things down would help ease his burdens.

Fushimi blows that off initially but the more time he’s spending with Yata the more painful things are starting to feel, always being with Yata who’s so oblivious to his feelings and who would never return them. Finally Fushimi gives in and sits down one day to write Yata a letter, just pouring out his feelings about how much he cares for Yata and how amazing he thinks Yata is. He doesn’t sign the letter and immediately crumples it up and stuffs it into his bag after he’s finished, intending to throw it away and never let Misaki see it ever. Except unknown to him there’s a hole in his bag and the letter falls out, a random student finds it and helpfully slides it into Yata’s locker.

The next day Yata runs up to Fushimi all excitedly, his face bright red and waving a letter like Saruhiko look at this. Fushimi realizes that’s his letter and has a momentary internal freakout before Yata comes up to him and is like look I think I got a letter from a g-g-girl. Fushimi realizes that he never signed the letter and feels a rush of relief,  but then Yata keeps talking about the letter like wow look at how much this person wrote. Yata’s really flattered by everything the letter says, like they think my smile is like the sun  and they love it when I laugh, no one’s ever really complimented me like that before. Yata wonders what girl could have written it and Fushimi clicks his tongue and says Yata’s just an idiot, clearly that letter wasn’t meant for him. Yata insists that it was, his name is on it and Fushimi doesn’t have to be an asshole just because Yata got a love letter and he didn’t.

Maybe Yata decides he needs to figure out who wrote this to him so he asks Fushimi to help him. Fushimi acts uninterested but he’s also like a little concerned because what if this leads to Misaki hooking up with some random girl. At the same time he absolutely refuses to just be honest and tell Yata he wrote it (be honest with his feelings that’s crazy talk right there) so he basically has to pretend he’s helping Yata find the letter writer while also trying to keep Yata from finding the letter writer. Meanwhile Yata shows the letter to his other Homra friends and they’re probably immediately all exchanging glances and thinking ‘Fushimi definitely wrote it. It’s Fushimi’s letter.’ The student council finds out about this too and now Yata’s trying to figure out who has a crush on him while everyone else tries to get him to realize that it’s Fushimi and Fushimi tries to get him to just forget about the letter entirely.

#sarumi #Talking K #they're idiots so #imagine Yata really trying to figure out what girl wrote this #but also feeling weird bc he actually likes Fushimi but he thinks Fushimi doesn't like him bac #so maybe he should go for this mysterious girl who clearly loves him #while Fushimi sits there saying nothing

[dojae-huh]

Hi. It's great to see jaedo more these days. Many of the jaedoists are afraid of their many moments. And think about whether after this there will be no more moments :D Some are still greedy waiting for their selca which is not yet new. And there are also those who say to enjoy the many moments of these days.

I wanted to ask, sorry if you've brought this up before. From what I read from your blog, I can tell a little that it was jh who initiated this relationship. I mean like falling in love first and asking out dy on a date.

You also said that jh's family accepts same-sex jh's. When do you think JH realized he liked the same sex? Was he still at school? I mean if it's true that he realized it when he was in school or around that age didn't his parents think that it was just out of curiosity and a period of self-discovery? Even though his parents, especially grandma, support his decisions and choices. Likewise with dy, even though his parents are open and supportive of their children's choices. Won't they wonder if his decision is the best?

Yes. Even though I know you can't read their minds or hearts ^^.

But... I'm glad to see their moments lately. Those who enjoy the relationship more. Starting to be open in giving affection And although a relationship must be based on and supported by both parties. Where both must love, support and trust each other equally. I feel jh loves dy more than dy itself. I feel jh fall first and fall harder .It's not that dy doesn't love jh as much as jh. What do you think? So is there a recent moment that really caught your eye? Your fav one?

Sorry if I write long like this. I just want to get all my thoughts out and exchange stories cuz there's no jdist around me ^^

Thanks. I hope I can read your response

Indeed, I'm not a seer, all I can do is make an educated guess based on a given information. And when new information appears that changes the perspective, I correct my view and make another educated guess.

Jeong and Kim parents are not seen by us, fans, but we can get some understanding about them through the reflection of their actions and attitude on their sons, and through the TMIs told by neos.

Jaehyun spent 4-5 years in US, so he was surrounded by a different, more open to LGBT, culture. So I believe, the idea that people can like someone beside the opposite sex was introduced to him early.

When Jaehyun cameback to Korea, he said he needed to adjust and adapt to a new culture again. Jaehyun is a type to think for himself and it doesn't seem like he had a big group of friends in school (a shy introvert, a newcomer) to peer pressure him into certain behaviour, certain way of thinking. Like boys with sisters are afraid to stand up for them against their peers anticipating being called weak and to not be welcomed in a group of male friends anymore.

What I want to say is that the circumstances and Jaehyun's character allowed him to accept himself earlier than many gay Koreans would.

Jaehyun talked about liking several male actors and musicians (I think one is an open gay, another is universally believed to be, yet another played a role for gay boys to fall for, etc). We also know he watched the original "Bungee Jumping of their own" (about soulmates, where the originally female partner reincarnates in a male's body).

Jaehyun talked about being told by his granny and his dad "to do what you want, be yourself". Which hints at the advice being about his orientation. As in every other aspect he is very much what society wants from a man and what parents want from a son. Why would "being yourself" would be so important to Jaehyun that he talked about his conversations with his relatives to the fans?

The reason why I think he accepted his orientation pretty early (middle school? earlier?) is because he didn't have a facade when he entered SM. He glued himself to boys, wrote flirty letters to his crush, compared the trips to the city with Doyoung to dates (with a girlfriend). And was so open about his feelings with Doyoung, that the latter even scolded him for it (called him childish for showing and acting on his emotions so easily). Not to mention Jaehyun's attitude in the group, how he was all about "look, look, I'm for realz Doyoung's boyfriend now!". In other words, there was no years spent learning to not feel ashamed or shy (contrary to Doyoung). He skipped the "I'm a sinner" part. And it's the teen years when growing children start to be affected by the society (and not the family) the most, when the opinions of others shape their views and mold them into a desireable "member of society".

I doubt Jaehyun talked to parents about his orientation when he was in school. There was a time when he felt his parents sacrificed a lot for him, when he wanted to become independent as soon as possible. When he moved out to the dorms he wrote a letter to his mom that she can do what she likes now, that he is all grown up, etc. I.e. it wasn't a time to burden them yet. "I need to come out" is a Western concept mostly. Straight Koreans don't even introduce girlfriends/boyfriends to their parents, if they bring someone, it's to say "I want to marry, give me your blessing".

Jaehyun's mom hung a poster with ShowChampion JaeDo in his room. Jaehyun talked to Doyoung' mom on the phone, Do even complained "he knows how to talk to and win over moms". Jaehyun knew Gongmyun. Do's mom taught Jae how to cook some Korean dish (we don't know personally or sent him a receipt).

Doyoung didn't talk to Jeno's parents. While Jaehyun and Doyoung were both liked by the parents of each other. Jaehyun knew the wedding anniversary date of Do's parents back in 2015. They read letters from Jae's granny together.

Jaehyun always talks very warmly about his father, that he looks like him, that he plays tennis with him, talks heart-to-heart a lot. And a father is generally more prone to disown a gay son, than a mother. Mothers have the instinct, while fathers think more about "what society will think, how it will affect my own position in the eyes of others".

It's actually easier for Kim parents to accept a gay son, as they have an older son who can "guarantee" them grandkids.

The reasons why I think Kims accepted Doyoung.

Do is super tight with his mom. Both sons call her often, during trainee days Do consoled in her a lot.

Kims watch everything with Doyoung. Some parents don't care what their celebrity children do, not Kims, Kims call neighbours to watch smth with Do together. All the posters with the sons in the flat. Their sons is their pride. And if fans can see what happens between JaeDo, the attraction, then a mother would know for sure, especially considering she knows Jaehyun personally.

I'm positive JaeDo went to Guri back in 2020. Jaehyun commented on gaining weight during the holiday because of the food. And Kim mother is a good cook who leaves homemade lunches for filming crew and has lots of kimchi pots at home.

Lastly, and most importantly, Doyoung wouldn't be able to date Jaehyun without being accepted by the parents first. His family is too important to him.

Doyoung might not love Jaehyun as obsessively, his world doesn't rotate around him, but he still feels strongly. Keep in mind, a romantic love (lust, infatuation) dies soon, it's the familial love that keeps a relationship going through years. We might underestimate what it takes for Doyoung to make open gestures of love.

Look, it is easier to look at smily Jaehyun and see how much he loves his hyung. But let it sink for you that Doyoung re-evaluated his whole worldview and what he thought about himself (his orientation) and his future (and he plans ahead 10-30 years) for Jaehyun. People like Doyoung want to be accepted by society, but he chose potential ostracism in exchange for letting himself date Jaehyun. He was ready to fight the group as well. Heh, honestly, he behaved like "this is a new reality, deal with it".

My favourite moment of late is Doyoung pulling Jaehyun's poca out of Johnny's hands. For the last few years Doyoung was so cautious about even looking at Jaehyun, and here he acted without any care, following his reactive nature. I also liked Jaehyun calling Doyoung "Do-rida" (leader Doyoung) as it reminded me old times and Jaehyun calling Doyoung as "Alphadong" (i.e. the smartest in the group).

#ask me away #i'll be your morning star #anatomy of jaedo

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

[zodiyack]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Requested by Anon: I know we do happy Elizabeth Shelby but, could you imagine teen Elizabeth figuring out that Bonnie was never her real dad? And it was a dead beat bastard? I’m feeling kinda angsty????

Pairing: Bonnie Gold x Female!Shelby!Reader, Mentioned Male!Character x Female!Shelby!Reader, Bonnie & Reader + Elizabeth Shelby (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mention of teen pregnancy

Words: 1,898

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I like- I had an idea, altered it a little halfway through, and then went with it. I hope you like it, anon!

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @simonsbluee, @fandom-puff, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag​, @psychkunox​, @darling-i-read-it​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @i-love-superhero​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Elizabeth L. Shelby Masterlist

She had never meant to invade another’s privacy in her life...but one little detail pulled the small bit of string sticking from the yarn ball, unraveling into one big mess. That was how she’d ended up in the situation never meant to happen. But it did.

It was a slow morning, Bonnie out to help with the Peaky Blinders and Y/n helping Ada and Polly with the boys. Elizabeth had a free day from her schooling and her ever growing mind was still as inquisitive as it was when she were just a babe.

The study, in which her parents did most of their work, was not off limits to her, just a place where she hadn’t been as often. Because of that, she decided she’d spend her time taking care of her boredom by snooping around.

All was going pleasantly until she found a letter, hidden in the bottom drawer of her mother’s wooden desk. Elizabeth frowned to herself, knowing better than to stick her nose into things that were not hers to know of, and began to move the items in the drawer to return the letter to its original place. However, the glimpse she caught of her name, or what looked like her name, sprawled in messy handwriting, caught her like a fish on a hook and reeled her in.

The word had been seen slightly between the folded end and the middle. She wasn’t completely sure it had been her name, so she debated leaving it alone and moving on with her day or giving into the pull of the hook of intrigue.

Biting her lip, she looked around. Then she breathed slowly and carefully unfolded the paper.

When Bonnie and Y/n returned to their home, they had expected a few things. Perhaps the house would be spotless and Elizabeth would act as if it were nothing, or the house would be a mess and she would have a boy over- that idea caused Bonnie to almost crash the car. Thinking of many things they’d find, Elizabeth with her arms crossed, a paper in her hand and a conflicted look upon her face was not one of them.

It was like they were the teens caught out and about in the middle of night by returning after curfew and she was the angry parent. Her expression caused her parents to stop in place and give her a questioning look. Ellie unfolded her arms and held up the paper. Right at that moment, Y/n’s heart stopped and dropped into her stomach. She squeezed Bonnie’s hand tightly.

“Who wrote this?” The two exchanged a knowing glance. “Mother. Who wrote this?”

Y/n hesitated getting the answer out of her mouth. The letter was something she hadn’t thought about, something she yearned to forget. “Your father.”

“My father? But I thought he was my father.” Elizabeth gestured to Bonnie, who sighed and moved to take a seat opposite to Elizabeth. “Have a seat, mum, I think we have something to talk about.”

“Indeed we do, Elizabeth.” Bonnie avoided his daughter’s- step-daughter’s eyes as he spoke, staring at his hands.

Y/n did as her daughter requested, more so demanded, and sat beside Bonnie. She too held a sheepish manner.

“Please, tell me, why am I just now learning of my father? Why not when I was a little girl? Why is he not a part of my life?”

The final question led Bonnie to surge upward from his seat, finally making eye contact with a now startled Elizabeth. “That man will have nothing to do with you if I have any say in this whatsoever!” His face was as red as a tomato, but calmed a few shades as Y/n put a soft hand on his arm.

“You don’t have a say in it. This is between my mother and I.” She looked at him apologetically, “You will always be my dad, but I want to know my real father.”

“He’s right...ya know? I never really wanted you around him...but-” Was it worth it? Ruining his image before Elizabeth had the chance to even meet him? He lived right there in Birmingham, she could meet him and see for herself, but, as Y/n thought more about it, he was a cruel man, one who neglected to even care for his child or his lover who was carrying said child.

“But what? Is he dead or something?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing!” Moments prior, Bonnie had scared Elizabeth with an outburst of his own, but it was the adults this time who nearly fell out of their chairs in surprise. “Either let me meet him or leave me to find him on my own.” She whipped around, her shoes clacking against the floors as she paced quickly to her room, leaving her parents to discuss her ultimatum.

Each meal went by with an awkward tension hanging over the three, the room filled with silence if you didn’t count the scraping of spoons against bowls or forks against plates. The simple sound only worsened the strained feeling in the air.

No answer came to Elizabeth, so she took matters into her own hands, following out her second offer and sought to find the man who gave her life. Each day she’d ask the name of which had been signed on the letter, going as far as to put his name in the newsprint. As a Shelby, she didn’t have to pay a single thing to have the people put anything in the news, but the goodness of her heart got the best of her and the people themselves. They offered to call the place she had been staying when they had a lead, but sadly, no calls had been made.

But one day, while she sat with the same hopefulness by the telephone with a cup of coffee in hand, the ringing filled her ears and a smile struck her face instantaneously. She almost dropped the coffee onto the carpeted hotel flooring as she jumped to set it down and grab the phone. “Hello?!” Her voice beaned with joy.

“Miss! There’s a call from the newsprint office,” the woman from the front desk said, voice ringing with a sense of rush, “they’re on hold- they say it’s urgent!”

The smile on Elizabeth’s face widened, “Please, put them on the line!”

“Miss Shelby, we have him!”

He waited for her in the lobby of the hotel, confusion obvious on his features. Elizabeth slowly walked down the stairs and the second her eyes met his, she felt sure that it was him. “Father!” She grinned and raced to him. Ellie threw her arms around him the second she reached him.

A small feeling of uncertainty picked at Elizabeth when he didn’t hug her back right away. She noticed his hesitation almost instantly but brushed it off when he finally wrapped his arms around her small frame. “You must be...”

“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Luludja Shelby.” She paused, furrowing her brows a little when he scoffed at her middle name, but continued nevertheless. “I’m um...your daughter.”

“Did your mother tell you about me?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, sucking in a breath bitterly. “No.”

“Oh...It’s fine with me. Never liked the whore that much anyways.”

Another pang of guilt struck Elizabeth, but again, she ignored it. “Yeah...” She laughed nervously, the unsure feeling growing deeper, twisting into a big sign that told her in capital letters to RUN. But she didn’t.

The two spent the day together, bonding and discussing what he would’ve done with her had he been given the opportunity to be her father. Of course, he never wasted the chance to call Y/n slurs and ghastly words. All seemed fine, Ellie wondered why on earth her parents thought he was a bad man, until he did yet another thing to make Elizabeth’s fight or flight mode prepare itself despite her not exactly wanting to.

He offered to hold her bag whilst she used the toiletries, then when he handed it back, took her to a shop. There, when paying, she found that a large amount of funds she’d been saving up since childhood had been missing. She bit the inside of her mouth and shook her head. But still, she refused to give up on him just yet.

They walked the streets, making small talk as they went by. “You got a lover yet?”

“Not quite. Mother said I should be sure before giving my heart to someone.”

“Yeah, well, your mother got herself knocked up before she was even of age so. Best think about who you’re getting advice from, Eirene.” He butchered her name off the bat, but she’d ignored that too, only correcting him each time- just not this one. “Date and fuck whoever you want, don’t let that bitch boss you around.”

He leaned closer to her, allowing her to smell the alcohol under his breath, the tobacco and surely, without a doubt, plenty of drugs. She cringed, scrunching her face and looking away from him in hope to get fresh air, but something about that smell stuck with her. What had he used her money on? Did his breath smell like that before? Was he intoxicated at the hotel?

“Listen, I think it’s best I get going...” She tried to pull away from him, but he caught a grip on her arm, tighter than he should’ve.

“No. You’re staying with me and that’s final. Come on Eliza, lets go meet my friends. You ever try snow before?”

That was the final time the red lights flashed. In what felt like a split second slowed dramatically, Elizabeth socked her father in the nose, hearing a cracking sound before he let go of her arm and she stumbled backwards a little.

“You bitch!” His grumble was muffled from behind his hand. He covered his nose and mouth, blood on his hand from either places but Ellie didn’t know which. “Why the fuck would you do that?!”

She was ready to apologize, but for once, it felt good to do something un-ladylike. “I seldom act as barbarous as that, but I know one thing. I feel not guilt for my actions, but justice. You call my mother horrid names that she would never be defined by, you can’t even stay clean for a visit with your own daughter nor keep your thieving hands out of anything that is not your own! Let alone remember my name!”

“And?!”

“And-” She hesitated, but rolled her eyes and let it out. “And fuck you. I believe there is good in everyone, but you have shown me otherwise. I thought mother and...and my father were wrong, that my birth father was a good man, but the day started with joy and ended in disappointment. I’m ashamed to even be from your blood. May you rot in the deepest depths of hell, you dishonorable bastard.”

Gasps came the people around them, making Elizabeth look around and glare at the bystanders, “Fuck off before the Peaky Blinders have you all...”

She turned to the man, still on the ground clutching his face, and thought about how she’d spent just a little less than a month searching for him; news traveled fast in Birmingham. “In fact, you’re lucky all you got was me. Because, if you have any brain whatsoever, you’ll leave Birmingham before you get the Peaky Blinders too.”

#elizabeth l shelby #elizabeth l. shelby #Elizabeth Shelby #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold #bonnie gold imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader insert #shelby!reader #peaky blinders x shelby!reader #peaky blinders x sister!reader #shelby!sister #bonnie gold x shelby!sister #zodiyack #reader insert #x reader #all readers #ellie shelby

[rainingpouringetc]

RAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN 💫

CONGRATS ON 500 MI VIDAAA <3

YOU DESERVE EVETY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. YOUR CONTENT IS TOP TIER AND KM GLAD MORE POEPLE HAVE BEGUN TO SEE THAT. CONGRATS, ILYYYY

Ok could i mayhaps get snippets on the only boy I've loved before and I could forgive you, then (for never seeing it coming)

Also for "the only boy ive loved before"

I feel obligated to ask

.....do thomas and alastair start their thing cause Thomas wrote him a letter and someone mailed it like in the original?!

Oh could i also get a 🎶

OK THATS IT CONGRATS AGAAAIN

*sobbing* THANK YOU ILYSM <333

for ttobilb (i can't tell you how much fun writing this scene was):

“Hello there, Lightwood.” Thomas froze. Alastair. “Oh, and, er, other Lightwood,” he went on. Thomas squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, steeling himself.

Kit spoke up, saying, “Hello, Alastair! How’re you?”

Alastair let out a dry laugh. “Well, I was doing just fine until I almost got hit by a car.”

Thomas opened his eyes and looked pleadingly at him. Beside him, ever oblivious, Kit said, “You almost got hit by a car? That’s awful!”

“Indeed it is.” There was a lilt to Alastair’s voice, like he was trying not to laugh. It was the same voice from middle school, just a bit lower—it had the same rolling cadence, the vowels that changed shape halfway through his words as though he could not decide which accent to affect. Thomas realized with slight horror that Alastair was staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Right. Er… sorry. Still getting used to this lot, I suppose.”

“Well,” Alastair said, leaning through the window and causing Thomas’ heart to stop beating, “there are these handy devices called mirrors. You can and should use them in any parking lot anywhere. Consider it a helpful bit of advice.”

“Thanks,” Thomas breathed, and Alastair rocked back on his heels, drumming his fingers on the door before nodding and striding away.

Thomas inhaled deeply, willing his hands to work long enough to put the car into park. Kit was babbling again, blissfully unaware that Thomas was the one who had nearly run over Alastair—“Can you believe he almost got hit on the first day of school, Thomas, that’s simply outrageous bad luck.” He noticed suddenly that they weren’t moving and asked, “Aren’t we going home, Tom?”

“No,” Thomas said, glancing sideways at his cousin.

“Why ever not?”

“We’re waiting for all the cars to leave.”

as for your question: sorta? there is a letter involved, and alastair does find it and read it, and it does lead to shenanigans, but it isn't mailed exactly like in the original

and a song:

the moon song by beabadoobee and oscar lang

#ILYYY 💕 #✉️ #zia !! #500 celebration #ttobilb #artie's writing

[let-me-luve-you]

No longer Twins

Tom Holland x Twin!Sister

THIS HAS POTENTIAL TRIGGERS. PLEASE READ SUMMARY AND WARNINGS BEFORE READING!!!

Summary: Tom’s twin sister took her own life and Tom is having a difficult time with the news.

Warnings: suicide talk, reader death, angst, depression, anxiety, bullying mentioned, cyber bullying mentioned, insecurities

A/n: I apologize to anyone this may upset. I had a request and this idea popped into my head. I am in no way trying to make anything sound better or worse than it is and I am in no way trying to romanticize serious issues. Majority of how this story is written is based on my own experiences. Everyone deals with things in their own way so please do not attack me if something is different.

MASTERLIST     BUY ME A COFFEE

PART 2

It had one week since he got the awful phone call that turned his life upside down. It had been 6 days since he returned back to his home in London that didn’t feel the same. It had been 2 days since they put your body to rest.

Tom still didn’t understand how you got to that point. A point to take your own life. He has even read the note you left him over and over. He just doesn’t understand.

He sat in your room in the house he shared with you for the last 3 years. A room you would never return to. Pictures of the two of you scattered the room. Pictures of you and your other brothers and your parents.

Tom has only left this room to go to the bathroom. He hasn’t changed his clothes. He hasn’t showered. He just sat on the floor near your desk just staring at all your stuff. On again off again crying. He’s barely slept since he got the call.

Tom was in Atlanta, Georgia filming a movie. It was the middle of the night in London and early evening in Atlanta and he was wondering why his dad was calling him. His dad should know he was doing night shoots this week.

“Hello?” Tom answered.

“Tom bud.” Dom sighed. “It’s Y/N. Son. She uh... She passed away tonight.” Dom was trying to control his emotions. Trying to be strong for his son.

Tom went silent. Couldn’t breathe. His heart felt like it stopped beating. His sister. His best friend. His other half since birth was dead. Tom choked on air as he fell to his knees. The whole crew went quiet as they watched the actor react to the news. Harrison ran over to Tom to make sure he was okay.

“Tom? Tom, what’s wrong?” Harrison said looking at the distraught man in front of him. Harrison heard Dom’s voice yelling ‘Tom’ through the phone. Harrison grabbed the phone.

“Dom? Is everything okay?” He asked his best friend’s dad.

“Haz, Y/N passed away tonight. Is there any way you can help Tom get back to London as soon as possible?” Dom asked. Hating to put Harrison in this position. Harrison also froze at the news, but he had to be there for Tom. He immediately went into action.

“Of course. We will be on the next flight out. I will talk to the director and producer to put this movie on hold for now.” Harrison said. “I will text you details when I have them.” Dom agreed and then hung up.

Tom and you were always close. As twins were. The two of you were attached at the hip for the most part. You went to school together. You lived together. When Tom didn’t take you with him to film a movie or go on a press tour with him, you were texting nonstop and face timing every night.

Tom didn’t understand how he missed the pain that you were in. He knew you battled depression and anxiety, but never thought it was this bad. As Tom sat there leaning against the wall with his legs stretched out, he saw a book under your bed. It was the only thing under it. He crawled over to it and pulled it out and then leaned against the bed. When he opened it, he saw your handwriting.

7-31-2019

Dear Diary,

Man that sounds stupid. But I guess it’ll work for now. I just don’t know who to talk to. I can’t talk to Tom because he’s busy with his own life. I know if I talked to him about everything he would help me, but he’s busy dealing with his own problems. You see Diary, Spider-Man isn’t going to be in the MCU anymore. Tom is taking it hard. He loves the character and the story line. He’s also dealing with his fans being mean to him and people he cares about. I just don’t want to add to his plate. I love him too much to make him carry my burden too.

Diary, I just want this all to stop. All the hate. All the mean words. Every time I build myself up, someone is there to tear me down. I can’t win. I just need a win. I need people to leave me alone. Not pick at my insecurities. I get it online all the time from people I don’t know. I get it from people I do know here in this town. I try to ignore them, but it’s hard to ignore them when they are only speaking the words you say to yourself in the mirror.

I just want the pain to go away. I want the ache in my chest to stop. The voices in my head to stop. I just want to be normal. I want to be happy. Am I not worthy enough to be happy. Was I only put on this earth to make other people happy?

Tom couldn’t read anymore after that. His sister had been struggling for over a year without telling anyone. He feels bad reading her diary, but this is giving him insight into why he doesn’t get to see his sister anymore. Why he doesn’t get to hear voice or her laugh anymore. Why he will never get to give her a hug anymore.

Tom started crying again. He curled into a ball on the floor next to your bed and cried. He felt arms wrap around his body and pull him closer to theirs.

“Sshh Tom. It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you.” Nikki whispered as she ran her hands through Tom’s hair trying to console her oldest child.

“Mum I just don’t get it. Why? Why did she have to leave? Why couldn’t she just talk to me? Why did she have to leave me mum? I can’t live without her. I don’t know how to live without her.” Tom cried.

“I don’t know baby. I don’t know. See the bright side of this tragedy. She is no longer in pain.” Nikki said as she silently cried for her only daughter. “She will always be with you Tom. She will always be in your heart and watching over you. Don’t forget she loved you the most. More than anyone else in this world.”

Tom laid in his mum’s arms until he fell asleep. Nikki gently laid a pillow under his head as she stood up and left him on the ground. He grabbed a blanket from your closet and covered him up. Nikki sighed as she saw the pain her son was dealing with. Pain she was feeling as well.

The next morning, Tom woke up to the smell of you and bad body odor. He jumped up quickly as he looked around the empty room. He saw that a blanket was over him and his head had been laying on a pillow. Tom decided to get up and take a shower. As he stood up, he picked up your diary. Something he wanted to keep reading to get more understanding. As he stood up straight with the book he saw an envelope fall out with his name on it. He opened it and started reading.

Tommy,

You are my brother. My best friend. The one that has been with me since creation. We have been together since the womb. I want to tell you I love you. I know I wrote you a note with the others. Ones that were generalized and apologetic and sort of explained why I did what I did.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m leaving you in this world without your twin. But I just can’t take the pain anymore. I need to be set free. I have felt like I’ve been imprisoned in my own mind for many many years. I have tried to get help. Tried to get these thoughts away, but it never works. Whenever it did, it was just for a little while.

I have written you so many notes. Many you will read, many you won’t see because I threw them away. If you found this one, just know I’m not mad at you for reading my diary. If you haven’t read it yet, just know there’s a lot about you. About how proud I am to be called your sister. How proud I am that you found something you love and that you are good at.

I want you to keep being the amazing human being you are. I will be looking over you with a smile on my face. I will do my best to protect you from heaven. I don’t know when you found this letter, hopefully it is before the box arrives, but there will be a box arriving soon. It is full of letters with words just for you. Letters I wrote for moments and things you may need your sisters advice.

I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to be there for you in those moments. I love you so much Tommy. Please don’t ever forget that. I just want you to be happy and loving like you have always been.

Love you always,

Y/N

Tom silently cried as he read your note. Finally starting to realize, maybe you are at peace. He wasn’t happy with it. Knowing you planned this so well you had time to write multiple letters to him. But after reading a short bit of your diary, he knew he couldn’t ever stay mad at you. He looked at the letter and realized there were dry tear stains on the paper. Tears you cried as you wrote him.

As Tom walked to his room. He vowed that day that he would live for you. He would make sure your name lived on. He vowed he would help people who suffered and fought like you. Especially the ones who felt they were fighting a losing battle.

He would never move on from you, but he would move on from the pain.

#tom holland #tom holland sister #tom holland twin sister #tom holland x reader #tom holland x sister!reader #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland x holland!reader #brother!tom holland #holland!reader #holland!sister #twin!holland #twin!sister #tom holland x twin!sister #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst

[snicketstrange]

Rereading The End chapter 10

Rereading: Chapter 10 One of the biggest mysteries for me in Chapter 19 is what the end of the story Ish started to tell about his student who had only one eyebrow would be. - "Did you know I used to be a schoolteacher?" he asked. "This was many years ago, in the city. There were always a few children in my chemistry classes who had the same gleam in their eyes that you Baudelaires have. Those students always turned into the most interesting assignments." He sighed, and sat down on one of the reading chairs in the center of the room. "They also always gave me the most trouble. I remember a child in particular, who had scraggly dark hair and just one eyebrow... This was a little girl. only one ear. She was an orphan, and she lived with her siblings in a house owned by a terrible woman, a violent drunkard who was famous for having killed a man in her youth with nothing but her bare hands and a very ripe cantaloupe. .. the student in my class began to be very suspicious about the tea her guardian would pour for her when she got home from school. Rather than drink it, she would dump it into a house-plant that had been used to decorate a well -known stylish restaurant with a fish theme... The Bistro Smelt. he houseplant's owner was whisked off to Peru aboard a mysterious ship [,The Prospero,] even though at the time the ship was called the Pericles. But my student didn't know that. She only wanted to avoid being poisoned, and I had an idea that an antidote might be hidden—"... What is happening now and what happened then is part of the same story, If I don't tell you how I came to prefer tea that's as bitter as wormwood, then you won't know how I came to have a very important conversation with a waiter in a lakeside town. And if I don't tell you about that conversation, then you won't know how I ended up on a certain bathyscaphe, or how I ended up shipwrecked here, or how I came to meet your parents, or anything else contained in this book." What I can deduce from this story is this: Ish was a VFD teacher. Ish was informed by his student that her tutor was trying to drug her. Knowing this stopped Ish from drinking sweet tea. Also, because of this attitude, Ish had to talk to a waiter in a town near a lake. This is very similar to what Lemony had to do after being told that Olaf wanted to kill him and Beatrice. Lemony had to take a special ticket to a ship and flee abroad. Clearly Ish had to do something similar, perhaps in the same place, as the consequence was that he stopped on the island, meaning he was at sea at some point. Parallel to this, we know at what time this happened: at the time of Gregor's Schism. In other words, Ish's student would be drugged in preparation for being kidnapped by one side of Gregor's schism. We can see that this plan to drug children to be kidnapped during a VFD fragmentation is basically the initial plot of ATWQ. It is true that the times when this happened were different, but the attitude of S. Theodora Markson shows that this type of situation was already common and this was repeated at the time of Gregor's Schism. Professor Ish ended up having to flee so as not to be harmed by the possible violence that would take place during Gregor's schism. He was a total pacifist at this time, and Olaf knew it. When he arrived on the island, he was still with the aftermath of the violent world he was forced to flee from, and more determined than ever to establish a community based on total pacifism. According to Ish, The Island Book is where castaways write their stories. This shows how Lemony Snicket has access to stories experienced by the Baudelaires since before their house burned down: the Baudelaires wrote about it in the island book, and Lemony found this book later. The Baudelaires' parents arrived on the island a few months before Ish. In all, they only spent a few months on the island. Beatrice probably arrived on the island pregnant with Violet and left it pregnant as well. Is it possible that Lemony is Violet's father? Talking about possibilities, yes it is possible. Coitus would have had to have taken place not around the time of the canceled quasi-marriage, but around the time of Gregor's schism, around the time Lemony fought over the salmon along with Kit and Jacques. However, I find this unlikely. On TBL we have access to a letter from Lemony to Beatrice. In this letter, we learn that Lemony was informed of Beatrice's pregnancy, and it appears that the person inside Beatrice was Violet. In the letter, Lemony indicates that he hasn't seen Beatrice in a few years. This suggests that Violet is indeed Bertrand's daughter. (You can always think of a grand scheme involving lies, but I find that unlikely. If Lemony wanted to hide the fact that he might be the father of Beatrice's baby, the smartest thing he could do was do nothing. , Beatrice's hasty marriage would have already hidden any suspicion as to the paternity of Beatrice's baby). "They wanted to dig a passageway that would lead to a marine research center and rhetorical advice service some miles away." The Baudelaires exchanged amazed looks. Captain Widdershins had described such a place, and in fact the children had spent some desperate hours in its ruined basement. "You mean if we walk along the bookcase," Klaus said, "we'll reach Anwhistle Aquatics?" Ishmael shook his head. "The passageway was never finished," he said, "and it's a good thing, too. The research center was destroyed in a fire, which might have spread through the passageway and reached the island. was contained in that place. I shudder to think what might happen if the Medusoid Mycelium ever reached these shores." Beatrice and Bertrand arranged to begin construction of a tunnel connecting the island to AA's facilities. The justification was to take the documents to Dewey's library. If we are to believe that Beatrice's genuine interest was in providing content for the library, we also need to believe that at this time, Beatrice did not yet know of the danger Gregor A posed to the world. On the other hand, Beatrice and Bertrand's interest in finding a cure for the deadly MM fungus, as well as the precautions they took in case the deadly fungus reached the island, is evidence that they already knew about the possibility of the fungus being used as a weapon of mass destruction and start a great pandemic that could reach the island somehow. So it is more likely that Beatrice and Bertrand's real interest in building the tunnel was to see that the cure for the MM fungus reached the place where the fungus was contained. In fact, if everyone on the island had immunity to the fungus, they could provide for the controlled destruction of the deadly fungus, without having to resort to wildfire to eliminate that danger. Ish's narration makes it clear that Beatrice and Bertrand have found allies on the island. In fact, it's possible that their arrival on the island was not accidental. They were perhaps looking for a safe place for their experiments involving finding a cure for the deadly MM fungus. That Beatrice had already begun to perform tests that she considered dangerous is evident from the prior knowledge she had about the hybrid apple. After all, neither apples nor the roots used in the experiment have abortive properties in themselves. Some exotic substance was formed in the genetic crossing between species, and Beatrice was already aware of this substance to the point that she never ate her own bitter apples. I have a hypothesis that this information could have been gleaned from Mrs. Widdershins' studies, but this is still very speculative. If there had been no schism on the island at the time of Beatrice and Bertrand, Gregor's schism would not have had so many consequences, for the weapon of mass destruction would have been destroyed without the need to resort to Olaf's incendiary methods. I think this plot also explains another mystery of ASOUE: "the great truce." From Violet's birth until the Baudelaire mansion burned down, Olaf was apparently not chased by the VFD and he maintained a town house and theater group. This truce must have been a kind of reward Olaf received for helping to destroy a bigger and more powerful enemy of VFD: Gregor A and the deadly fungus MM. "In my experience, the Snickets are as much trouble as the Baudelaires" So, this is hard to understand. Ish considers the Snickets problematic, and he considers this based on his personal experience. His experience is with Jacques or Lemony, as in his writings he had claimed that Kit was someone's sister. This reveals exactly what I had previously thought: the Baudelaires and the Snickets were part of a different faction than Ish was. Ish preached total pacifism with the help of librarianship. His behavior on the island for all these 15 years only demonstrates that he has taken this philosophy to the max. He became like a monk during the Middle Ages, who retreated into its mysteries surrounded by manuscripts, while laymen were prevented from learning to read. Ish reveals in chapter 10 his entire philosophy of life: to keep the peace it is necessary to alienate the people of the world. He really considers himself a father to the island, and it's interesting that father is a religious term in many languages, including English. The answer to this way of thinking was said by Sunny: "I don't believe that bridging the freedom of expression and the free exercise thereof is the proper way to run a community." "This ring," he said, "once belonged to the Duchess of Winnipeg, who gave it to her daughter, who was also the Duchess of Winnipeg, who gave it to her daughter, and so on and so on and so on. , the last Duchess of Winnipeg joined VFD, and gave it to Kit Snicket's brother. It to your father, who gave it to your mother when they were married. Learned from her grandfather. The wooden box turned to ashes in the fire that destroyed the Baudelaire mansion, and Captain Widdershins found the ring in the wreckage only to lose it in a storm at sea, which eventually wa shed it onto our shores." This is a delightfully intriguing story. This story spans hundreds of years. Firstly: what is the importance of the ring? It appears to be originally a family heirloom. After that the rings are given to other people. We know Lemony gave the ring to Beatrice and in his mind it must be an engagement ring. I wonder why R gave this family inheritance to Lemony. He could have used any ring to ask Beatrice to marry him. Did he want something special, but being poor R decided to give him something dear? In this case, was Beatrice already rich? Among the reasons Beatrice would return the ring was certainly the fact that she would not marry Lemony. Was differences between social classes an important factor? Why did Lemony give the ring to Kit instead of keeping it, or instead of giving it back to R? And why did Kit give the ring to Bertrand? Did she want Bertrand to marry Beatrice? And why did Beatrice keep the ring so carefully instead of displaying it on her finger? The only answer I can think of is that Beatrice kept the ring as a symbol of the forbidden love she could have lived with Lemony but didn't. She was his bride at heart. I believe that Beatrice's marriage to Bertrand was not motivated by love, but it was a suggestion that VFD gave her, especially since she has inherited a large fortune. But in any case, Bertrand gave this ring to Beatrice only on the day they were married, not on their engagement. At the time, Beatrice believed Lemony was dead. No wonder she decided to keep a memento of her true love. Of course, these are all hypotheses. But the most important question is: How does Ish know all this? The last information he has is that Captain W took the ring from the wreckage of the Baudelaire mansion and left it lost at sea. How does he know it was exactly Captain W who took the ring? This information can only have been generated by Captain W himself. Did the captain drop his logbook overboard? Chances are, yes.

#snicketverse #asoue #books theories #asoue theories #beatrice baudelaire #Lemony Snicket

[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

[lnarizakis]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧COACHES DON’T PLAY

THE JOURNAL OF A FORMER AUTHOR: PAGE 001

HOT OFF THE PRESS ! Is this not what you’re looking for? Please view the masterlist [here]!

EXTRA ! miya osamu x fem! reader. 800 words. original characters.

A LITTLE RECAP . . .

“Hello, everyone. We apologize for not responding to any letters this month, as we have something very important to discuss before the situation can get any worse. The letter that (L/N) (Y/N), who you may recognize as Dating-san, was supposed to answer for this month’s newsletter was an anonymous letter, even though it is obviously written by Miya Osamu, editor Asai Kanako’s boyfriend. It was, unfortunately, not a follow-up letter about how to treat her well and act like a good boyfriend, but rather, a letter in which he expresses Asai’s toxic traits as a girlfriend and wishes to break up with her. And (L/N) was to give advice to him, even though she was the one that brought the two of them together.

We have a pool of letters that we as a newspaper club come and agree to choose together for (L/N) to write, but it seems like this month (L/N) went ahead and decided to choose her own letter to write for. She wanted to break up the relationship between Asai and Miya, and, even more, she wanted to expose the non-existent toxic traits of Asai as a girlfriend using Miya’s letter. This plan of hers obviously backfired, since all her measly little response came out to be an attempt to break the two apart and a way to get with Osamu, the one guy she’s liked since her first year. Yes, (L/N) sacrificed her crush on Osamu to bring him with the girl that he liked. However, her own selfishness caused her to write a response for Osamu’s letter, all so she could have Osamu for herself.

Explain yourself, Dating-san.

EXPLAINURSELF(L/N)!”

(Y/N) kicked the dust under her feet as she walked home straight away after school. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her blazer, looking down as she didn’t want to make any contact, physical or of the eye, with anyone that went to her school. (Y/N) felt utterly embarrassed with herself. 

When the bell rang that day, (Y/N) stood up and made her way towards the newspaper club room to explain herself. Osamu watched her as she swiftly left the classroom, not acknowledging the sniffles and what looked like a stray tear coming from her. He became awfully aware of the newspaper carefully folded in his book bag, wishing he hadn’t shown her the article. 

(In a way, he was glad that he had, for she would have had to see it at one point. It was better now than later, he thought.)

(Y/N) opened the door to the club room, where Saki Akihiro, dubbed the “Demon Chief Editor,” sat staring at his computer. By his posture angled towards the door it almost looked like he was waiting for her. He tore his gaze away from the screen and bore his eyes into (Y/N), sweating more from the anxiety of being outed by Asai than from the running she had to do to get to the club room. 

“(L/N). Come closer.”

She inched closer, straight expression adorning her face, not wanting to let any sign of fear show through. 

“Closer. I’m not going to bite you, (L/N). Look at my screen.”

She walked towards Akihiro, who had his eyes glued back on his screen, which displayed the most recent article for Dating-san Helps Inarizaki High!, the article which tore (Y/N)’s high school reputation apart. Her heart sunk, knowing even from the moment she set foot in the club room that Saki was to scold her, maybe even reprimand her, about the article. 

“Aki-san, I can explain,” you stuttered out loud, trying to give yourself the chance to show that Asai was painting you as the villain in this story. 

“What explaining is there that needs to be done? What ever this is,” Aki motioned towards the screen, “This call-out article, so to speak, has pretty much explained everything I need to know.” (Y/N) swallowed dryly, and she felt like her breathing was getting heavier by the second. He paused, taking off his glasses. (Y/N) felt her heart stop-- everyone in the newspaper club knew that when Aki took off his glasses he was angry. Like, really angry. 

“(Y/N), this article here makes us look bad as a club, you see? I know that Asai wrote that letter. It’s obvious. However, she is one of my most trusted editors. She is very well-respected in our club and performs very well as an editor and a member of our team. And, for your own personal good, I can’t have someone who’s not performing well on our team. I’m going to have to ask you to resign as Dating-san. At least for a couple months. I’ll let everyone else know that you’re just taking a hiatus. Alright?” 

She nodded.

“Thank you for understanding, (Y/N). I’ll see you around some time. Take care,” Aki said as she left with her head hung low, embarrassment pressing it down like the burden it is. 

It pressed on her neck even further, later at night when she sat at her desk doing schoolwork. She put her head down, giving her eyes a rest. (Y/N) groaned, suppressing the sob she was about to let out. 

Pushing the embarrassment away, (Y/N) stood up and took a walk around her room. The destination became her soft bed, jumping on it and sighing into the plush pillow. After grabbing her phone, she wrapped the blanket around her and turned on the phone to find herself about to call the one person she looked up to the most. 

She was inspired by him ever since she was a young age. He was currently in high school, a reputable, well-known young man, when she was in her third year of middle school. The two of them were very close with each other; it was a respectful relationship, with (Y/N) always looking up to him in awe. To her, he was wise, all-knowing, even. He often had the right thing to say; the witty things he said made her chuckle, impressed with his words. He was someone that (Y/N) wanted to be when she was older. 

He was her cousin, Dating-san. 

(Y/N) pressed the call button on her phone, holding it up against her ear as it rang several times before he picked up. 

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan. It’s been a while. How’re you?”

taglist: send an ask to be added ! [ @lcaita​ @reogou​ @alienvarmint​ @annalyn-annalyn​ @kunimwuah​ @akaarin @wansseul​ @anime-simp​ @dorkyama​ @keiyoomi​ @studywoo​ @steggy4ever​ @wheelzzzies @kaoyuuuuu​ @sadakaashistan ] italicized: can’t tag

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #osamu ff #haikyuu ff #osamu fanfic #coaches dont play #sorry this was short lmfao

[villainess-noble-girl]

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Title: Second-Year Valentine's Day

Author: meiberry

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12852677/1/Second-Year-Valentine-s-Day

Fandom: Kenkyo Kenjitsu

Pairing: EnjouXReika

Photo: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/67148847

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"No. I'm not going to take it. It's going to make me sleepy. Plus it tastes like soap."

The muffled voice of Yukino came from beneath the covers. The IV drip tube poked out from the ball of sheets in the hospital bed.

Shuusuke sighed at his little brother's stubborn actions. Good thing he came prepared for this. "Yukino. Kisshouin-san wrote you a letter."

The ball of sheets shifted, and Yukino's head popped out from beneath the covers, his doe peering up at Enjou in surprise. "...Reika-oneesama?"

Shuusuke held up a small pink envelope with "Yukino-kun" written in neat handwriting in the center. Yukino reached for it when Shuusuke swept it back out of reach with a gentle smile.

"..." Sullenly, Yukino obediently drank the medicine. Watching as he finished it, Shuusuke patted his head and handed him a glass of water with a piece of candy to take care of the medicine's bitter aftertaste. Yukino popped the candy in his mouth with one hand and eagerly held out the other, looking up at Shuusuke expectantly. Shuusuke handed him the letter and watched as his little brother opened it earnestly.

In the beginning, Shuusuke was pretty surprised to see him get along so well with an older girl. Usually, Yukino was not so nice. He was a really smart kid for his young age, and many older girls had been trapped by his soft, harmless facade only to be humiliated and insulted beyond repair. But recently, Shuusuke found that with Kisshouin, Yukino seemed to genuinely act like his appearance.

Shuusuke could see why. Kisshouin clearly didn't have any ulterior motives when speaking to Yukino. Older girls usually saw Yukino as a means to an end. If they weren't patronizing then they were obsequious, obviously trying to use the younger brother to get to the older one. But when it came to Kisshouin… if anything, it was as if her treatment of the two brothers was reversed. In the ten years of knowing her, the very first time that Kisshouin started a one-on-one conversation with Shuusuke that lasted longer than one minute happened to be because Yukino. It was a dreadfully humbling experience. Yukino has sure put up with a lot these past few years.

In any case, no matter how devilish he was to other people, in the end, Yukino really was still a little boy, and Shuusuke was simply grateful that he was able to be just a normal, cute kid with someone, even if it was a girl who clearly didn't put Shuusuke in her eyes.

He watched peacefully as his little brother's eyes happily flew across the letter.

"Kisshouin-san really cares about Yukino."

Yukino shot a glance over at him, "What? Is oniisama jealous?" And then he continued reading his letter.

"And don't think that I don't realize you told her to write this to make me obediently stay in the hospital."

Shuusuke smiled wryly. When he could tell Yukino was finished reading, he continued, "Well, Yukino seems to really like Kisshouin-san. I thought maybe you would listen if she asked you personally."

Yukino smiled, happy from finishing Kisshouin's letter. "Yeah, I do like her. Reika-oneesama is really nice and she's not just pretending. Do you want to read it, oniisama? I'll let you read it, since you asked her to write this for me. I'm going to the bathroom."

Yukino handed the letter to Shuusuke as he climbed out of bed and grabbed at his drip stand to roll it into the bathroom in the room.

Shuusuke blinked at the letter in his hands. Although he didn't ask to read it, he was honestly pretty curious. What did she say to Yukino to cheer him up, anyways?

The letter was not very long, and it fit neatly on the cute stationary decorated with little birds and vines.

Yukino-kun,

Enjou-sama told me that you are admitted to the hospital. I am worried for your health. Your family must be even more worried than me. I hope you take care of your body because many people care about you very much, and we want for you to quickly become well again. With that said, I hope you listen to the doctor so that you can leave the hospital soon. I know that sometimes it is really hard to do something you don't like. But experts have their reasons for their advice.

Recently I have been learning to make desserts from a friend. To be honest, my dessert-making skill is much farther behind my cooking. I think I know what to do when I try to be creative and individual with my own ideas, but actually, my friend tells me that the greatest mistake in baking is not following from the recipe. This is completely different from cooking, where not following the recipe is not that big of a deal. When I listened to my friend, I made a dessert more delicious than anything I'd ever made in my life! I realized at that moment, ah, so that is the difference between a normal person and an expert. With that said, I hope you understand the importance of listening to experts such as your doctor.

When you come back, you'll be able to see your other friends and me in the Petite Pivoine salon again.

Wishing you a quick recovery,

Kisshouin Reika

By the time Yukino returned from the bathroom, Shuusuke had already finished reading the letter and had set it on the tray over the foot of Yukino's bed.

"So, what did you think of Kisshouin-san's letter? Are you going to listen to her when she asks to you listen to to doctor's advice?"

"I guess." Yukino sat at the foot of the bed and picked up the letter again, folding it and carefully putting it back in its envelope before he flopped back into bed, pulling the covers over himself. "The way she asks me to listen to the doctor is just less irritating than when you ask me to listen to the doctor."

Shuusuke helped put the covers over Yukino.

"I wonder why Reika-oneesama is learning to make desserts." Yukino looked at Shuusuke, his eyes widening. "Valentine's Day is coming up, isn't it? I wonder what Reika-oneesama is making…"

"Hmm. Who knows."

"I wonder if she's learning to bake something for the person she likes..."

"Hmm. Who knows."

Yukino's eyes widened like big dark marbles as he looked at Shuusuke.

"You're curious, too, aren't you oniisama? Ne, ne, what kinds of sweets has oniisama received from Reika-oneesama on Valentine's day?"

"Actually, I've never received anything from Kisshouin-san on Valentine's Day."

"Ehhhhh!"

Shuusuke thought about how in the ten years since he's known Kisshouin Reika, she has never given anyone Valentine's chocolates. Year after year, the whole school secretly held its breath in wonder at who the Goddess Kali of Suiran would afflict with her attentions. And year after year the answer was an anti-climatic… nobody.

Kisshouin Reika never gave anybody at Suiran chocolates for Valentine's day. Him and Masaya were not excluded.

Ah, wait, that's not right. Last year she gave courtesy chocolates to the student council president. In fact, Shuusuke was the one who pointed this out to Masaya... Even though she had done it in secret, for Kisshouin Reika to give chocolates to a guy at Suiran was no small matter and in the end the word leaked anyways. Because she had done it pretty secretively, there were no massive rumours, but the thing about secrets was that they always spread. Shuusuke heard about it from the more low-key sources.

Back then, he had remembered how she seemed to have had a crush on the same student council president back in middle school, but nothing had happened even after all these years. For nothing to have happened all this time, what other conclusion was it other than unrequited love? He hinted at this story of camaraderie to Masaya in hopes of inspiring him to move on with his life. Unrequited love was not the end of the world. Just look at Kisshouin-san.

Who knew that the whole thing would have worked out so beautifully at graduation. Tomoe Senju actually had a girlfriend! And he called Kisshouin Reika a sister in front of everybody. Masaya was so moved by Kisshouin's composure and courage. Shuusuke felt like he was watching Masaya watch a romance movie. Out of all the times that he's taken advantage of Kisshouin, Shuusuke felt most proud about the way that one turned out. Witnessing the way Kisshouin "handled" the student council president's "public rejection" totally inspired Masaya and brought him back from depression. He completely recovered from Yurie's rejection after that.

Yukino's marble eyes seemed to glitter in wonder as he looked up at the handsome young man sitting beside the bed.

"Wow, even though every year it seems like you get chocolates from every single girl we know, there is actually one girl who has never given you any chocolates… not even once! Hehhh..."

Yukino did not look or sound sympathetic at all with the the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

"That reminds me... when we first met and I introduced myself, Reika-oneesama made a 'geh!' face when she heard my name, like she was really saddened to hear that Oniisama was my oniisama... I thought that maybe she hated you!"

"Hmm. I sure hope Kisshouin-san doesn't hate me. But if she does hate me, then that's unfortunate."

"No, no. I don't think Reika-oneesama hates you, Oniisama! She probably doesn't even think about you at all."

"..." Shuusuke's expression remained serene as he stayed silent.

Yukino looked at his face and suddenly giggled. Shuusuke joined in with a few chuckles. For a short moment, they laughed together.

"Ahahaha…"

"Hahaha…"

"..."

"..."

Yukino turned over in bed. "Don't worry, oniisama. Maybe one day Reika-oneesama will also remember to give you chocolates, too."

"..."

"Oh yeah, oniisama, could you find me something to write with? I want to write Reika-oneesama a reply."

"...Alright. I'll go find you some paper."

The next morning, Shuusuke thanked Kisshouin for her letter to Yukino. She looked really happy that it helped. Yeah, it was really useful. She was pretty humble.

"Yukino said that it was fun to read about making sweets."

"I could only think of unimportant things to say… well..."

Hm, there it was. Shuusuke could always hear the instant whenever it sounded like Kisshouin was trying to wrap up a conversation and escape. Usually, he'd just let her go. But for some reason, he didn't feel like it this time. The words Yukino said yesterday skipped around his mind, reviving an old and annoying itch.

"So Kisshouin-san is making sweets. Could it be that on Valentine's day..."

"Umm…" He watched as Kisshouin's eyes lowered, her cheeks blushing very lightly. He could imagine her cheeks must have been warm to the touch now. "Yes..."

"Hn."

It'd be a lie to say that he never expected any chocolates from Kisshouin Reika. It wasn't to say that he wanted her chocolates or anything like that. In fact, the idea of actually eating Kisshouin Reika's handmade sweets seemed like something that belonged to the realms of extreme adventures and chemically dangerous thrill-seeking. Although, whether or not Reika's chocolates are edible, Shuusuke wouldn't want to eat them anyways, as he didn't have a sweet tooth, but...

...He still expected to get them.

It was about logic. If a girl knew Enjou Shuusuke, then she would give him chocolates on Valentine's day. (The same applied to Kaburagi Masaya.) Three of five of chocolates would be honmei. That was the rule. He knew it was a very unique and extraordinary rule. Certainly not every boy in the world had the ridiculous privilege of receiving a mountain of chocolates and sweets from all the girls he knew. But, that was his experience.

In accordance with his life experience, it was natural to expect chocolates from a girl he knew when he's always received chocolates from every girl he knew. With no exceptions.

Except this one.

#villainess noble girl #fanfic #light novel #kenkyo kenjitsu #EnjouXReika #Enjou Shuusuke #Kisshouin Reika #Japanese noble girl #isekai

[deadlymodern]

Gen 1. Summary

Hello! 

I know it might be a bit hard to keep up with legacy stories, so I tried my hardest to summarize the major events in the Norman Legacy so far  just in case someone who is not up to date and has no time to go through all the posts wants to catch up!

It's quite a read for Tumblr standards (a bit less than 6 google document pages, to give you an idea), but I think it does the job. I hope this will help things make more sense to newcomers c:

This post will be linked in the Norman Legacy main page so you can easily access it if you'd like.

Once I update my theme (an endless wip), I will create a page fully dedicated to summaries of generations. But for now, I hope this will do. 

So, without further ado:

Summary under the cut!

In the early 1870s, the young married couple, Edgar and Theresa Norman, built a farmhouse in the English village of Brindleton. 

They had four children together: Bethany, Edward, Matthew and Phillip. But, due to complications in labour, Theresa passed away giving birth to their last son.

Theresa wanted her children to receive equal education. She enrolled her daughter in school and, on their way to Beth's first day, they met a little girl named Mary McNeill. However, after Theresa's death, Edgar pulled Bethany out of school so she could help him with the farm and house work.

Mary would visit Beth often and a very special bond between the girls flourished. Also, during her time away, Beth developed a passion for reading and writing as a way to express her feelings.

At the same time, Edward was crushing on his classmate Susana Harrison. They had a rocky start to their friendship, but eventually Ned apologized for hurting Sue and they became inseparable.

Time went by and, when Phillip was old enough to go to school, Edgar allowed Bethany to return to her studies. Beth and Mary started seeing each other every single day in class and were attached by the hip.

***

A few weeks before Mary's 16th birthday, Bethany and her were talking. Beth expressed her insecurities and Mary comforted her, assuring that she was utterly beautiful and that someone would most certainly ask her to dance on her birthday ball. The girls, then, wondered how it would feel to be kissed. Mary took the opportunity to tell Beth that "they should practice together", kissing her for the first time.

It all seemed fine to Beth until she realized Mary started to avoid her on the following days.

The girls spent a couple of weeks apart until Mary apologized for her coldness, explaining she was just scared of what she was feeling. She, then, convinced Beth to attend her birthday and they got ready together, trying to get back to how their friendship was before.

During the ball, Beth was trying to contain her jealousy as she saw Mary dance with her suitor, Timothy Laurence. She was having a bad time until she was asked to dance by a gentleman called William Carrington. He taught her the basics of the waltz and she had a lot of fun, until she noticed Mary leaving the ballroom with a saddened expression. 

Beth followed her friend to the roof and, amidst tipsy giggles, Mary kissed Bethany again. This time, with a lot more meaning to it.

A few days after the ball, Beth went over to Mary's house but was greeted with bitterness. Mary told her they couldn't be friends anymore since she only had "sinful thoughts" when they were together. She also told Beth that she was to go to Finishing school in the Summer and, afterwards, marry Timothy. 

Bethany, who didn't usually let her emotions out, was devastated and Ned consoled her.

Eventually, Edgar married a woman named Elizabeth Reginald and Ned & Sue fell in love with each other.

***

One day, while running errands in the nearby town of Battlemere, Beth met with William again. He asked if she was in town to apply for the Battlemere College entrance exam. She had never believed that was even a possibility for her, but after their banter, she became motivated to apply and take the test.

These news weren't well received by Edgar, who scolded both Bethany and Matthew, who gave her a ride. However, Matthew stood up for his sister and reprimanded his father for being absent as a parental figure ever since their mother's death. Elizabeth consoled the teenagers once Edgar stormed out of the house.

When Summer came, Mary's mother invited Bethany to her daughter's farewell dinner. She decided not to attend, as she hadn't spoken to her friend in months. But, for her surprise, Mary showed up at her house after said dinner and asked for Beth to come see her off in the morning. Mary also apologized for her behaviour and confessed to be in love with Beth.

Both women spent the night together and said a bittersweet goodbye in the morning with a promise to exchange letters. 

Around the same time, Phillip met Dorothy Turner at the music group and they became good friends.

By mid-summer, Beth discovered that she did not pass the entrance exam. To cheer her up, William decided to take her to watch a film after they accidentally met again. From then on, they developed a good friendship.

Once she arrived home, Edgar announced that he'd allow her to study and retake the college exam, just as long as she got married first. Bethany felt conflicted with the deal and, to make her feel a little better, Matthew offered himself to help her with her studies.

***

After celebrating the end of the school year - and Bethany's graduation from school - Edward received Susana's father's permission to propose. 

Beth and Mary kept their promise and wrote each other weekly letters. But Edgar also kept his end of the college deal: he started receiving possible suitors for his daughter. And, once Edward announced he was going to propose to Susana, Edgar made sure to add extra pressure on Beth by saying Ned was to marry only after his sister.

That same night, Beth and Ned had an argument that made her realize her brother was more similar to their father than she imagined. 

For the next couple of months, Edgar and Ned decided to update the farm house. During the reforms, Bethany stayed at Susana's house. One day, Ned brought Beth a package from Mary, but found very peculiar how his sister's eyes filled with tears as she removed herself from the room to read her letter. 

Finally, after the farmhouse remodel, Ned proposed to Sue and they got engaged. 

***

Phillip and Dorothy were very excited after knowing they were to perform at the village's Winterfest. During the event at the main square, Mary showed up and surprised Beth.

William felt a bit jealous to be utterly forgotten by Bethany once her friend arrived and, then, realized he was in love with her.

While Flip and Dottie performed with the music group, Edward noticed how both Mary and William stared at his sister in a similar loving way, but Sue made him cast the very idea aside. 

Throughout January, Beth and Mary spent every waking moment together, enjoying the little time they had until Mary had to return to Germany. One day, the women hiked up to Whitecliff to spend some safe time alone. There, the girls confessed their deep love for each other and their desire to be together, promising to run away once Mary is finished. 

At the same time, Flip and Dottie started spending more time together as well. For the first time in years, Phillip spoke about his mother and the guilt  he carried for feeling "responsible" for her death. Dottie advised him to learn more about his mum as a healing process. So, on his 14th birthday, Phillip asked Edgar about his mum and Edgar showed his children a box of things that belonged to Theresa. That comforted Flip a little.

On Mary's birthday - the day after Phillip's - Beth decided to giver her the ring that belonged to her mother as they would never have a proper engagement ring. During Mary's birthday dinner, Edward noticed the ring and confronted his sister about it, only to be shunned down. Their relationship was going sour. 

Beth and Mary spent their last night together and said a hopeful goodbye in the morning. 

***

In Germany, at the Windenburg Finishing School, some of the girls began commenting on the amount of letters Mary would receive from Beth. 

Odette Bourguignon, Mary's roommate, told her that one of the girls, Rose Courtenay, had started some "vile rumour" about her and Bethany. She advised her friend to invite her suitor to the Easter Banquet as a way to make the gossips end.

Back in Brindleton, another gossip was going around. Edward and Susana heard that two men were spotted kissing near the Battlemere Lake. Beth was surprised and excited about the idea of having more people like her living in the Bay area, but Sue didn't know much more information about the men.

***

Mary decided to follow her friend's advice and invited Timothy to the Banquet. While they had a lovely time together exploring the manor, the situation backfired once Timothy asked for Mary's hand in marriage.

The woman denied him, which made her father, Charles, furious. Before leaving the venue, Charles told the school governess, Mrs. Wagner, to let him know of any suspicious behaviour Mary may have and gave her permission to pry into her personal things.

While things seemed to go badly in Germany, Beth and Will had fun spending time together and trying to discover who the "Battlemere Two" were. Bethany was very grateful to William for being supportive of an interest of hers that wouldn't be considered ladylike, and both bonded even more.

A few days after the Easter Banquet, Mary discovered that the box she kept all of Bethany's letters had gone missing. In the middle of her panic, she indirectly confessed her relationship with Beth to Odette. 

Trying to calm herself down, Mary hid from everyone, but soon she was found and learnt that Rose had been in her room the day before. Right after, Mrs. Wagner told her that her father wished to see her. 

Upon arriving at the hotel, Mary saw her box on the coffee table. Charles said he had read all of the letters and was absolutely revolted by them. He gave Mary two options: she could either get married to Timothy or watch him expose Bethany to the whole Bay area.

Mary agreed to his terms but couldn't help her crying even when Timothy arrived. Tim tried to comfort his friend telling her he also did not wish to marry. He confessed to be in love with another who was not suitable for him, and said he was obliged by his father to propose. 

With no other choice, Mary and Timothy got engaged. 

Mary was required to stay for tea afterwards. Her parents started to excitedly plan the wedding. To make sure Mary would not get the chance to see Bethany in Brindleton before getting married, Charles suggested the wedding was held in the town of Normouth, right after the woman's graduation.

Once Mary got back to her room, she wanted to write to Beth, letting her know of her situation. However, she was interrupted by Rose, who confessed to have taken Mary's box not only by Mrs. Wagners orders, but also by curiosity to know if Mary was truly "like her"... 

Rose tried to make a move on Mary, claiming that they would both end up in a sad marriage and should have some fun before. Mary pushed her away and yelled at her, ending that terrible day by herself.

#gen1 recap #norman legacy

[sunflowerhae]

Linger

Episode • 7/8

Mobile Masterlist •

♡ ☾

Authors note• the next part will be the last part I promise guys

Warnings• language, mentions of death I think at this point I can’t remember

Songs• Something - the Beatles/linger - the cranberries/possibility- Lykke Li/ requiem on water - imperial mammoth

•never

•in your entire life

•were you more surprised than when you opened your locker one morning

•and saw a little note float out, and rest itself in the floor in between you and the locker.

•you honestly didn’t want to pick it up.

•what the hell did that asshole have to say to you now?

•you finally lean down and pick up the note

•and you have to hold your hand over your mouth once you open it to stop the crying

•bc you’re in the middle of school

•that’s

•so embarrassing

•lol don’t even ask what school was like the Monday after prom

•right there

•on the page

•is a poorly drawn sun.

•but this sun was different

•it’s eyes were closed

•and it had tears running down its cheeks

•Jaemin wrote you another note for a number of reasons

•the main one being

•he just wanted you to feel beautiful in your skin again

•he regretted everything he said to you

•but the one he regretted the most was telling you you’re not beautiful

•bc wtf

•who

•wtf

•Jaemin had known you for 8 months

•he knew your insecurities

•he knew what to use against you

•and he used it

•and that made Jaemin worse than some of the worst ppl he’s ever talked to

•and he literally can’t look at himself in the mirror anymore

•one time he got so mad he just fucking punched his mirror and it like, shattered

•really fucked up his hand but he didn’t even care at that point

•he was drunk

•felt numb

•so the letters were a way for him to feel something again

•and for him to express his love for you still

•bc no matter what he says to literally anyone

•all he does is love u

•he like truly believes ur his soulmate

•and that he’ll die alone

•and to top it all off

•his parents loved you so they’re always asking where you are

•and vice versa but you told ur mom what happened

•and Jaemin tried to keep it in but one night at dinner his mom is like “i really miss y/n! I told you what we were having earlier bc I knew it’s y/n’s favorite and I wanted you to invite her!”

•and Jaemin starts eating quietly but then starts remembering the first time you met his parents and you ate this so mid bite he just breaks down and starts sobbing

•bc hes like kept this all in

•he doesn’t want anyone to know he actually cares abt u

•but these are his Parents

•so he tells them

•and they are like “bro what”

•and they ask him if his reputation as a high school student was more important to him than love

•and he already knew it wasn’t

•but he was already 10000% sure u hated his guts

•and you did

•but you also still loved him and u hated it

•so you open the letter

•”Sunshine, it’s been a while. I know what happened between you and Jaemin, and I’m so sorry. I’m doing this again, not because I want you to be with me just because you’re single now (you don’t even know me) but because I was there that night. And I heard him. And y/n, I have never heard a more wrong and idiotic being in my life. And I need you to know he was wrong. I need you to know how beautiful you are; inside and out.

First things first, I didn’t get to say it to you that night, because I’m an idiot, and I wish I had, but you looked so beautiful at prom. You’re hair was curled and hanging over your shoulder, and your pink dress with the flower heals; I wanted to marry you right then and there. You took my breath away, even more than the first time I laid eyes on you. But even then you were absolutely stunning. You are so gorgeous in everything you wear. It doesn’t matter to me. I wanted to kiss you, and hug you, and tell you how much I loved you.

But I didn’t.

And I’m so sorry sunshine. I wish I had. I really do.

If you don’t want these letters, then throw them out without ever looking them, I get it. I just want you to have self confidence again; to feel beautiful and smart again. Because I think - no, I know - that you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever seen, and the smartest. And you teach me everyday how to be a beautiful person inside and out.

I love you sunshine.

Always and forever”

•knowing it was Jaemin

•his letters used to make you so happy

•now it upset you so much

•bc what was the truth

•but you didn’t tell him you knew

•you wanted to see what he had to say

•and if you were being honest, you craved his affection still

•bc u were in love with him

•unfortunately

•but it ended up hurting u more

•he would write more letters than he used to

•before, you would get maybe three of four a month

•now you got at least three a week

•and they were all about how amazing you are

•and in a lot of them

•Jaemin would subtly tear himself down

•u read in between the lines to see it

•and you were honestly scared he was gonna kill himself

•you knew all the pressure he had on him; football captain, honors and AP student, the popular boy, the good kid (although that on was a bit tarnished after prom lmao)

•he used to sit with u for hours venting

•and then you would be there to help him

•he no longer had that support

•bc he was such a closed off person, he didn’t tell his friends much of his problems

•well

•no matter what, you were not having it

•it wasn’t that you were weak. you like to think of it as you being strong. bc even though everything he had done, you still wanted to make sure he was okay in the end. you still had the courage to say something to him.

•so you left a note in his locker

•”Dear my secret admirer,

Not so secret, huh? I was bound to find out, what with all the notes you used to give me in third period?

I’m not writing to you for any reason other than to make sure you’re okay.

I can tell when you’re stressed, I think you forget

I don’t particularly like you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you

And as someone who loves you, it would be in your best interest if you don’t put yourself down in the letters you write.

No matter what you say Jaemin, you will always be a good person.

You are an amazing captain that your team members are lucky to have. You lead them in a way that they learn to take pride in the accomplishments AND their failures, and to grow from each.

You are a beautiful friend, Always looking out for the dreamies and making sure that they’re happiness is above your own. You listen and you give advice.

You’re a beautiful son, as is no surprise due to the beautiful people that raised you.

You’re one of the top students in the class, you don’t even have to study and you get A’s.

And no matter how much I want to fight it in my head, you were an amazing boyfriend. Until the end LOL.

What I’m trying to say is life is going to continuously beat you down.

So stand up and swing next

It’s going to want to silence you.

So scream.

Fight back, because it’s what you deserve.

And please, stay safe.

I will always love you,

Y/n

Ps. Please stop with the letters. They hurt too much. “

•so

•you slipped that in after the last bell

•and Jaemin didn’t go to his locker right after school, he rushed to practice

•he did have to get a book from his locker afterwards though, so he was in the hallway alone when he opened his locker and the note floated its way onto the floor

•Jaemin was thankful he was alone, bc he sobbed like a little baby

•you were such a beautiful person, so kind and such such a good soul

•and he hurt you so bad

•and yet you still felt the need to tell him all of that

•he started off by sobbing into his locker

•but after about 5 minutes of that his knees gave out and he slipped onto the floor

•and just put his head in his hands and sobbed

•you

•you were at school

•just down the hall actually

•you were in the music club, and you had a meeting after school to bc you had to write a song for the school club banner parade

•(side note. remember previously when i said that you had this club w mark? tell no one, but you were actually still regularly talking to mark! on the first meeting after prom, mark practically ran into the room and when straight to you, and before you could even open your mouth, he was word vomiting how sorry he was and that he had known you longer than any of those assholes and you were an amazing friend and that “ifyoudontwanttobemyfriendanymoreiunderstandcompletely-“ but you had to literally cover his mouth and you were just like “um, well. let’s just start writing the next assignment together, okay?” and before you knew it, you and mark were laughing again together. he actually made you feel a lot better, a lot closer. you both refused to talk abt any of the other dream members, or yerim and miri, but sometimes, something would slip. those were secretly your favorite moments, when mark would joke about something that happened that day, or when he would bring up an old memory of all 10 of you. over the course of the two months since prom, mark had made you laugh the most, and was your biggest reason to smile, honestly.)

•for a timeline, your meetings are about an hour long, sports is two hours long

•you stayed in late to finish some stuff up, as you were the leader of the club

•so you were walking out with ur bass in hand when u heard someone crying really loud in the hallway next to the one you were in

•you went to check and

•who do u see but Na Jaemin sitting on the floor sobbing into his hands

•you didn’t want to pry but you knew it was about u

•so

•you felt like u kinda had to

Continue here

{taglist}

@ivietea @fiveguysgoodbyeguys

@comically-sleep-deprived @woosans-sann @mozartwasajungkookstan @littlefluu @cxcxlxlee @jaesluvklub

@uyuzo @sweetie-yoongi7 @marklexleaf @infatuated-with-you

#mine #my works #sunflowerhae #nct #nct dream #kpop #nct 127 #nct 2019 #nct u #nct dream x reader #wayv #nct x reader #nct jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #nct na jaemin #nct dream jaemin #nct dream na jaemin #Linger #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #huang renjun #mark lee #lee jeno

[honey-and-strawberry]

pierre renoir + typewriter gah, some names are difficult to remember JDJDJS from the artistry asks!! ♡

Ok the love note thing......ready for a sad but funny story about dumb bitch Sarah? Picture this, little me in the 6th grade, I finally like a boy....Andy Wilcox (YES I STILL KNOW HIS NAME). I had his name written on my notebooks and everything, I’m never subtle. It’s closer to the end of the year and I want to make my move before starting middle school. I ask my mom for advice (never again). She says write him a love note and give it to him at the 6th grade dance (the last day of class) but write your number on it so he can call you (yes my mom is a boomer). Since she’s my mom I followed her advice. I wrote a cute little letter and put my number on it and even gave it to him at the dance. The next day? A girl calls me and tells me she’s going to “kick my ass” for writing him that note. She claims she’s his girlfriend (she’s not, she was just a little groupie of his). We’re like 11 years old.....her friend takes the phone from her and tells me she’s not going to kick my ass blah blah blah I’m scarred for life.

Would I ever model for an art class? Funnily enough when I was in art school, we would have models come in (their choice to be nude or not) and they get paid like 40 bucks to stand there for an hour! I always wanted to do it but I couldn’t cause I was in the department (the rule was you had to be a student but not be in the major). I don’t see myself doing it because each model we had were absolutely gorgeous skinny girls that would intimidate me if I walked by them on the street. Their figures were so fun to draw. We didn’t get a boy come in but they have in the past (my professor says the boys that come in to model usually do it as a dare but jokes on them they get paid for it). If I was like 4 sizes smaller I would but I’m way too self conscious

#here are some stories of me lol #I was bold back then what happened to me #lovely moot 🥺❤️

[poptod]

Baby, My Love is Yours (Kenny x Reader)

Description: His words make your heart ache, and you put the entirety of your trust in him.

Notes: Male coded/MLM. I’m a huge fan of gender neutral fics (as shown by my AO3) but, when it comes to gay characters, I don’t like taking that away from them. 

Words: 3.5k, sorry it’s so short

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086324

Based off this song (I wrote and sung it)

In all honesty you haven’t known him for very long - at most, a few months, though your grasp on how time works is rather weak. If only you could pinpoint the exact date when you met. Of course, when you first met him, there wasn’t exactly a spark, or a flame, between the two of you; not even within you alone. He spoke anxious but excited, every topic lighting an excitement in his eyes, but you didn’t notice. Not until your fifth meeting.

You’d moved back to your hometown after a long trip of moving around the world, and found yourself not fitting in at all like you had before. At the age of seven, close to every kid had the same interests - having fun, playing, simply burning away the energy till that joy couldn’t come so easily. Nearly ten years later you find yourself in a place you know so well but would never again understand. You were probably the only family in town that had left the state, and that difference cut a deep separation between you and your classmates. You saw the world, and every person in it as entirely different and wonderfully unique from yourself, while many others only knew the people they’d known all their life.

Luckily, there was one person who welcomed you back rather warmly - your old friend, one of your best friends: Larry Gold. An enthusiastic boy too deep in fiction to see that the world didn’t revolve around the stories he knew, but the best shot you had at having any sort of friendships in your old, unfamiliar town. Second day back at the school he came up to you, frowning somewhat.

“You look sorta… familiar. Did we - did - were you here a few years ago?” He asks, gesturing vaguely with his hands at the mostly empty classroom, the students having long gone with the ring of the bell. “Sorry, if not,” he adds. “I just can’t shake the feeling.”

“No, uh, yeah. I was here, like ten years ago? I dunno. I’m (Y/N), you’re…” you blank for a second, before remembering his name. “Larry, right?”

“Yeah! Wow, I… wow. It’s been a while. Where’d you go?”

You catch him up on the way to the lunchroom - Montana, then to Switzerland, then to Korea, to Scotland, before moving to Italy - then Germany, and finally back to the States.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, filling his tray up with the horrid looking lunch ‘meat’.

“It was a bit tough, to be honest. How do you fare?”

“Could be better, could be worse,” he admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “I got a best friend at least, he’s probably sitting over…” he looks over the crowd, before settling on a boy sitting alone in a  corner, “there. That’s Kenny.”

You nod, not really seeing who exactly he’s looking at till he’s leading you over, and you sit across from him and Kenny.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N),” you start out with - simple enough. “I used to live here.”

Kenny doesn’t seem much for words, sitting straight up and stock still, before Larry nudges him with his elbow and whispers something indistinguishable above the raucous crowd. Stuttering he offers his hand, which you shake with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

“I’m - Kenny.”

Lunch runs smoothly, and when it finishes Larry pulls you to the side of the rushing students.

“He’s usually not like that. But he is a weird guy, just a heads up.”

Chuckling you nod, not taking his advice. Weird never bothered you, as long as it didn’t harm anybody. In fact, it’d probably do you good - befriending someone unlike the other teenagers around you. Even if you weren’t ‘new,’ you still stick out like a plant amongst rubble, or a snowstorm in summer. Abnormally tall, with clothes too expensive for the school you attend and a very clear ‘Pridefully Gay’ patch on your jacket. Doesn’t bother Larry, that or he can’t see past the end of his nose; you went with the latter.

Kenny ended up being a joy to have around once he actually gained the nerve to start talking. The two of you bonded, rather unsurprisingly for you. A ‘gaydar’ wasn’t something you put much stock in, but there were obvious signs when someone was gay, and Kenny emitted near every sign of a boy so deep in the closet he’d find shoes from 1987. You didn’t bring it up, though, ever one for chivalry. If he wanted to come out, he could do it on his own time, and you certainly didn’t feel the need to talk to Larry about it - he’d asked about your patch, and expressed a decent amount of discomfort about homosexuality.

“I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore, but that’s a dick move,” you told him, to which he quickly agreed.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be friends, it’s just… you aren’t gonna get, like, a crush on me or anything… right?”

“No. I only like attractive men,” you told him, sparking a snort from Kenny, whom you hadn’t realized was listening.

It wasn’t until the fifth time the three of you had decided to hang out outside of school that you suddenly fell under a charm you’d previously believed didn’t exist. Sitting in the middle of Larry’s living room (your house was too far away, and Kenny’s house was apparently too strict), you were simply doing homework, you working on English, Kenny on math, and Larry on history. Fiddling with his pencil, Kenny sits next to you, and across from the both of you sits Larry.

“Why do we have to write a poem for English? Isn’t it enough that we have to do presentations on friggin’ Jane Eyre?” You grumble, running your hands through your hair.

“Having trouble?” Kenny asks, leaning to look over your shoulder.

“Everything I write sounds stupid,” you mumble, your head falling from the grip of your hands and landing with a dull thud on the table.

“Then just write something stupid,” Larry adds, helpfully, but still engrossed in his own homework.

“Here, I, uh,” he looks at you, blushing (as usual; you’d gotten used to it) before digging into his backpack and pulling out a journal. “You can use one of mine.”

“What? No. That’s cheating,” you insist, turning back to your empty paper. Kenny and Larry share a glance, but his attention comes quickly back to you.

“At least take one of my ideas? They’re on the back page,” he says softly, pushing the notebook into your line of sight, giggling slightly as it comes to cover up the entirety of your own blank journal. With a sigh and a chuckle, you relent.

“Fine, but I owe you,” you mutter, looking over the ideas. Kenny just shrugs, and turns back to his math. You’re horrid at math, and the equations he’s completing in his head send you for a whirl. If you ever start failing that class, you know exactly who’d be the best tutor.

Notes made mostly of scribbles and vague definitions litter the back page - “Made of glass,” one corner says, but it’s missing the last s. ‘Mold and melt ‘neath such wretched hands,’ ‘searching for endless trivialities,’ ‘raised on masochism.’ It’s all rather dark, and when you’re sure Kenny is fully absorbed in his work, you flip through the pages to his poems. Not to steal them, that goes against your moral code; just to read. The poems are in an even messier fashion than the jotted notes - they’re put into blocks, numbered and unnamed. Arrows point to which part connects to which, and some have notes to the side, brackets combining them, and pencil scratches blurring out the wrong words. On a few pages he clearly attempted to write about women. There are scribbles about their beauty, but it’s so vague it could be about anything. Some of the fragments are simply fragments - unconnected lines of poetry.

‘I was love, helpless love,’ you read in your head. ‘And though I do care for you, I cannot put my shame on you, and I’ve lost all that matters.’ Helplessly you search for a clean poem, something you don’t need to piece together like a million letter puzzle. Continuing your search for an idea, an inspiration, or perhaps a glimpse into the elusive personality of your new friend, you find a poem that’s definitely about boys, and it’s more loving than any other that you’d read so far. In the first part of it, he describes the boy he pines for, but it’s not incredibly specific - it mentions hair color, eye color, some skin imperfections, but not enough to pinpoint who it’s about. Then, it gets dark.

‘How bold of me to dream, to wonder. I beg you to let me waste your time, and let me burn away in your light -‘ there’s a scribbled out part - ‘I thought by know’ (it’s misspelled) ‘I might hold you, like endless apologies of existence - feel my heat as your own. But as the sky descends in heaps of empty meanings, I found I said nothing to you at all.’ The last bit is hard to read - it either says ‘empty meanings’ and ‘I found,’ or ‘endless apologies,’ and ‘I fear.’ Either way, you’d seen enough - enough to make your heart race when he looks back up at you with a smile softer than anything you’d ever known, even in the entirety of all you’d travelled through. Your mind stutters, continuing to blank even as Kenny turns away. Had you just wandered through his soul? It felt a very private notebook. Turning back to the last page, you chose a random idea, ending up with, ‘I pray to thee, sweet love’s a parasite.’

From that moment on, your life continues on as normal, with one massive disruption - you’ve got a hideously thumping crush on one of your best friends.  That brings us to the present; he’s sitting far too close to you, emotionally ripe from getting kicked out of his house that afternoon, and he’s practically begging you for solace. Not with his words, thank God, but every movement he makes is needy and his chest weighs heavily against your own as he breathes softly. He’s barely touching you, but his heat manages to reach you, crowding your space without allowing himself the comfort of your touch. Larry’s mom had called you, rather late that evening, and explained the situation to you.

“I think he’s crying. I don’t want Larry helping him, I don’t think he’d help that much. Can I trust you?” She asked, and you agreed, taking your father’s pickup truck and driving it down from the mountains and into town. Once you made it to the basement, you saw the extent of his ruin.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits, his eyes red and blotchy, matching his flushed cheeks. He’s still leaning over you on the basement couch.

“Just keep breathing,” you tell him, though you really don’t know what to do either. Your parents weren’t thrilled when you came out, but they certainly didn’t kick you out of the house. “Live day by day, hour by hour… minute by minute, if you have to.”

“They’re gonna take me back, right?” He says, practically pleading with you, as though you have any pull on what happens.

“I think they will,” you murmur, your eyes flickering down to his lips before meeting his eyes again. Truth wouldn’t help either of you in this situation, so you decide your soft lie would work best.

“Maybe I was wrong,” his head hangs low between his shoulders, “maybe I’m straight. I don’t wanna be gay. I - it’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Kenny…” did you really have to come out to him? You had made no effort to hide it. Maybe he’d forgotten? “I’m gay, remember?”

“You’re not wrong, though, like I am,” his words start to come out choked, and he strains to keep talking through the tears burning his thoughts away. “Your parents still love you. Mine - I don’t want to… I don’t…” He doesn’t blink, hoping desperately that the gathering tears will recede but they fall nonetheless, one from each eye till he’s sniffing, cheeks burning as he tries to stop crying in front of you.

“Your parents still love you. Give them time,” you settle on. It’s a precarious situation, and you can’t tell what’s the right thing to say, or if saying anything at all will help.

At last he collapses, the strength of his arms giving out as he falls into you. Burying his face in the crook of your neck he hides away from the world, from his self-hating thoughts, from everything besides you. In a moment you’re all that exists to him, your arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him up so he doesn’t slide away. His warmth burns you, electrifying every nerve you have but you ignore it. There’s more important things to tend to. His breathing is uneven, so you slow your own breathing, instructing him to follow you. Half shivering he attempts to follow your lead, slowly calming from sobbing to napping away the mental exhaustion of the evening.

As he sleeps on top of you, you kiss his temple, running your hands through his hair in a fashion you hope is comforting. When your freezing fingers touch the back of his neck he shivers, so you try to keep away from his bare skin, till you fall asleep. the weight of his body lulling you into a doze.

He wakes up around 4AM, which you only know because when he wakes he jostles you, stuttering and mumbling to himself as he crawls off of you. With a deep breath you open your eyes, looking up at him, still sitting in your lap, but clearly embarrassed.

“Oh jeez. I’m, uh, really sorry for, um.. sleeping on top of you. Oh god,” he grumbles, switching between covering the lower and upper halves of his face.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, still drowsy with sleep. Unsure of what exactly you’re doing you reach for him, grasping his wrist and pulling him close as you sit up. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright, I guess,” he says, just as soft as you, his expression falling. “I’m… glad you’re here. Less lonely.”

“’S what I’m here for. Did I tell you Valerius called me? She thought you liked me more than Larry,” you chuckled, the words escaping your mind before you gave them any thought.

“Who’s Valerius?”

“Larry’s mom.”

“You mean Victoria?”

“Mm… yeah.”

“I like both of you plenty,” he says, indignantly, a slight frown on his face that you can’t help but find adorable. It shows on your face, too, a smile too wide cracking open. He notices, and it only furthers his confusion. “What? I’m telling the truth.”

“I know. You’re just so adorable,” you admit, and when his eyes widen and he pales, you come back into yourself, and realize what you’d just said. “Oh, uh, you know what I, uh, mean. You know?” You stutter a lame excuse.

“I’m not adorable,” he whispers, staring straight into your eyes.

“No, handsome,” you correct yourself, making the situation infinitely worse.

“Handsome?” He practically wheezes out, losing his words and coherent thought.

You keep a firm hold on his wrist, making sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Instead he wraps his fingers round yours, and, staring at where you meet, he holds your hand. As enthralling as it is for you it soothes him, breath instantly slowing as the pressure of his fingers trills against the back of your hand. For the moment, you put away your anxieties, and let him relish in a comfort unknown. It wasn’t illogical to assume he’d never held hands, never kissed anyone, and certainly not a boy. You had experience with this - Europe was pretty gay, and Italy awarded you your first kiss. Yet somehow, your roles had reversed; the experienced a blushing mess, as the virgin held the others’ hand in a warm composure.

His eyes close slowly as he leans in, heading for a kiss you knew would be heart wrenchingly beautiful, but you pull away.

“You’re - no. I adore you but… I can’t complicate your life. Not now,” you murmur, pressing your hand against his chest and pushing him from you. In an instant, he thinks he’s entirely at fault, and he unwinds himself till the two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, neither of you touching the other in any way.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and you can tell he’s about to cry again.

“It’s not your fault,” you rush out, scooting closer to him, but he curls into himself, and you relent. “Kenny…”

He hides his face in his hands, and he’s definitely crying now. You wait a moment before you continue, waiting for the worst of it to be over, but seeing him in any kind of pain twists your gut.

“Kenny…” you slowly move his hands away from his face, and with a soft touch, you direct him to look at you. “I just don’t want to hurt you. You understand that… right?” He nods, and looks away. “There’s so much going on in your life. I don’t want to add to that.”

“But you make everything better,” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his knees raised to his chest, hiding his face again.

“I’m flattered you think that,” you reply quietly, at a loss for words. “I… how about.. I sit here, and you can do what you want, or make me do anything you want. For tonight.”

“What?” He sniffs, and looks back up at you.

“I’ll do anything you want. Anytime you ask. Starting tonight, my love is yours in any way you want it,” you tell him, eyes darting nervously around his face for any sign of agreement or disgust.

“Anything?”

“Yeah. Anytime.”

You’re trusting him with a lot, you both know that - but truly you do trust him, more than you trust yourself. He graces your cheek with his fingers, trailing across your imperfections as you close your eyes, melting into his touch. Shifting, he moves closer, till he’s once more sat in your lap, and you can feel his hot breath against your skin, electrifying you in the same way you keep ignoring. It’s about him, don’t ruin this with your anxiety, you tell yourself, but it gets harder to listen to that voice in your head when he begins to kiss at your bare neck. Your hands shoot up, grasping at his waist as he does this, dotting your skin, up to your jawline until he lands a peck at the side of your lips, so loving, as though you give him the only reason to breathe. At this time, he pulls away, and you open your eyes.

He’s examining you - just as you had done to him, waiting for any sign of renunciation of your promise. But you just sit there, gazing into his eyes like they hold the universe, every answer to be asked for swirling in the gold round his pupil. So he leans in, and at first it’s just a touch; you’re pressing your lips together, still and quiet. The time passes so slowly it might’ve not been passing at all, till he leans in, and you feel the pressure so intensely that a fire could be raging around you and you wouldn’t’ve noticed. You copy the feel of his adoration with just as much tenderness, and a tiny whimper escapes him. He pulls away blushing, leaving you with a dumbstruck smile on your face.

He does a lot more to you that night, and in every second of it you swear you’re in heaven. The memory of it trails you, constantly at the forefront of your thoughts at any given moment. When you meet in school again, he holds your hand like a comfort in a world of pain, and to him it is. You exist, and that’s enough to soothe the ache of rejection, but it doesn’t fully heal, not until his parents finally take him back.

On that day, he asks, “Are… is… are you.. still mine?” He worries, needlessly, if your trust was only to comfort him in a hard time.

“I’ll be yours as long as you want me,” you tell him, and it ends up being a lot longer than you ever would have anticipated. You’re not that stupid, you know the statistics for high school relationships, but your love persists so long there’s no other word for your relationship other than soulmates. Life deals softer blows by his side, and love adores each of your imperfections till the days die away.

Baby, my love is yours

longer than words we adore -

So trust the tremor in my touch

Cause baby, my love is yours.

#rami malek #kenny al bahir #kenny al bahir x reader #war at home

[merry-kuroo]

Postwickshipping Week Day 02

(Reposting these under the keep reading tag since Tumblr likes to hide posts)

Read on AO3

Jealousy

Title: Not According to Plan

Note: This is a highschool AU. I felt it was a little rushed, but oh well

Everything Hop had planned for his future had been derailed. Hop remembered when he had a notebook that detailed all of his plans for the future. Hop usually didn’t like to think too far into the future, because anything could happen, but Hop couldn’t help it at the time.

  Step One: Get into Hammerlocke Academy

Thankfully he did. There had to be letter of recommendation written for anyone to get into this prestigious high school, and his brother Lee, who was an alumni and the number one student in the academy, had been nice enough to write him one. It was a plus when Lee wrote one for Gloria too. Sometimes he wondered if Lee did that on purpose not because he thought Gloria was smart enough, but because Lee didn’t want to him to be by himself. It was a plus that Gloria came along.

Well, at first it was.

  Step Two: Be the Top Student in the class each quarter all through the next four years, just like Lee was!

Unfortunately, that was going to be impossible. Hop wasn’t one to give up easily, but this time he might have to.

Gloria—The same Gloria who slept through class, complained about studying, and didn’t care about her abysmal grades through elementary and middle school—was the number one student in their class and Hammerlocke Academy. Hop had no idea how it happened. Did she decide to get serious about studying after Lee recommended her?

He was proud of her at first, but it wasn’t until the end of the second quarter that Hop began to feel miffed. The rankings for the academy were posted, and Gloria was the number one student, Bede was number two, Marnie was number three, and Hop was fourth.

Fourth. Lee had never gotten fourth place, so how could he?

But it was only the second quarter. Hop could improve. He had to improve. He couldn’t tarnish Lee’s legacy. The harder Hop tried, the more he faltered. Now their first year at Hammerlocke Academy was almost over, and Hop had fallen out of the top 10.

What really bothered him were his feelings. Hop had always liked Gloria; he even had a crush on her in elementary school. Now, he couldn’t stand looking at her. It was like she was preventing him from reaching his goals. It wasn’t fair to blame Gloria for his shortcomings, but it was easier. He knew he was in the wrong, but he couldn’t stop his anger and jealousy.

Hop tried to keep his face neutral when he spoke to Gloria, but he would always end up glaring at her or making some snide remark about how “smart” she was. Then he felt awful when he saw Gloria’s smile falter. She would look down at the ground and shift her feet. He had no right to shame her. Gloria spent a lot more time with Bede and Marnie now. She didn't hang out with him after school anymore nor did they eat lunch and dinner together. There were even rumors that Bede and Gloria were dating, and that made him furious.

  Why am I like this? Why did I push Gloria away? I have no one…no one at all.

Class ended for the day, and Hop packed up his backpack. He figured he could catch an early dinner, then head back to his dorm. There was a physics test tomorrow, but he knew he wouldn’t pass. What was the point of studying anymore? This weekend Hop planned to call his mom and tell her that he would be returning home. He could finish up school at Postwick High. Hop had developed a mantra over the past year:

  What is the point of doing this?

  This is pointless.

  I really don’t want to be here.

“Hop.”

He jolted at the sound of his brother’s voice. Lee sounded angry. Hop put his bag down and slowly turned towards his brother. Sure enough, Lee was angry. A deep frown had settled onto his face. His arms were crossed, and his eyebrows were furrowed. The last time Hop had seen Lee that angry was when he took Lee’s favorite toy without permission, and accidentally dropped it in a puddle outside their house.

Standing near the entrance of the classroom door was Gloria. When she made eye contact with Hop, she darted off down the hallway. What was that been about?

“Let’s talk back at your dorm,” Lee said. His tone had grown a little gentler, but he still looked upset. Hop said nothing as he grabbed his bag and beckoned for Lee to follow him back to his dorm. As they walked across the school grounds, the other students waved and gawked at Lee. He was a popular alumnus at the school. No other student had been able to stay as the top ranked student all four years throughout the academy.

But Lee had beaten all the odds.

  Lee wasn’t always a good student. Mum used to fuss at him all the time when he was younger. He’s kinda like Gloria…

  Oh.

Back at Hop’s dorm, Lee made himself comfortable on Hop’s bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, while Hop sat on the other side. He wrapped the blanket his mum knitted around himself. He did not make eye contact with Lee. He was so ashamed, and there was no doubt Lee was ashamed of him to for his abysmal ranking and grades at the academy.

“What’s going on with you?” Lee asked after a few moments of silence.

“Nothing,” Hop mumbled. He pulled his knees up to chest.

“I just came to visit you because I was worried. You usually text me every day, but it’s been weeks. Mum has been worried too.”

“Sorry. I’ll call her tonight.”

“I ran into Gloria. She told me that you don’t talk to her anymore. In fact, she mentioned that you don’t talk to anyone anymore. She’s worried about you.” Lee sighed. “How is it that two friends just stop talking like that?”

“I’m jealous, Lee.” Hop said quietly.  “I wanted to be the top of the class, but Gloria is always number one. She always beats me. And every time I’m around her, I’m mean to her and I’m always angry, so I just stopped talking to her.”

Hop felt his heart squeeze. “And she’s got her new friends. Bede and Marnie. She doesn’t need me.”

Lee didn’t say anything for a long while, and Hop grew annoyed. Lee always had some advice to give. “Am I foolish for pushing her away? I don’t like being jealous, but I can’t help it.” Hop continued.

“I think the problem is that you had high expectations. You came to Hammerlocke Academy thinking you would be like me. That was your downfall, Hop.” Lee said. “You have always succeeded in everything that you did. You never faced disappointment before, and now that you’re disappointed in your rank, you took it out on Gloria.”

“I didn’t mean to Lee!”

“I know that, Hop. Look, I’m not blaming you. But you have to face reality. You will be disappointed. What you have to do is find a healthy way to cope with it. Pushing away your best friend and refusing to study is not the way to do that.”

“Okay.”

Lee stood up and stretched. He came over to Hop and ruffled his hair, something he had done to Hop since he was a kid. “Don’t fret. There is still time to make this right. I believe in you Hop.”

“Thanks, Lee,” Hop said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Any time. I’ll do anything for you, little brother.” Leon smiled at him. “Please call Mum and let her know that you’re okay. I’m going to be in this area for the next few days so I’ll be checking in on you. Are you going to study tonight?”

Hop didn’t answer, and in return Lee smacked him on the head. “Gloria is studying the library. Go see her.”

After Lee left, Hop gathered up his textbooks and notebooks and headed to the library to meet with Gloria. When he arrived, he saw Gloria sitting at a table by herself reading a book. Hop hesitated. Would a simple apology make up for how he treated her? Gloria had a kind heart, and she may be willing to forgive Hop, but forgetting about this would never happen. Hop would have to prove that he was willing to change.

  Step One: Support Gloria no matter what.

Hop approached Gloria’s table, and she smiled at him when he got closer. “Can I study with you?” Hop asked. His ears burned. Maybe she would say no.

“Of course!” Gloria said.

When Hop sat down, he took out his physics book and a few pieces of paper. He did a few practice problems and was surprised that he got all the concepts. Maybe he wouldn’t bomb this test after all. Maybe he wasn’t as stupid as he thought. When he finished the practice problems, he looked up and found Gloria staring at him. And without missing a beat, they both smiled at each other. Hop’s heart soared.

  I’ll take that first step no matter what. I’ll make it up to Gloria no matter how long it takes.

#postwickshipping #postwickshipping week #hop x gloria