#it’s the damn voice drop Richard does for him is so hot to me idk why sjdjhxj

[candyheartedchy]

I find it funny that even though I had an crush (and use to self ship) with Grim from TGAOBAM, I also remembered having a HUGE DAMN crush on Billy’s dad when I was younger too.

[derryhawkins]

I Love Him, Your Honor

summary: During college, Richie works part time at a law office for the sole reason it pays well, and he honestly thinks it’s utter hell. But then he meets another part time employee who works down in the file room and, well, maybe the law office isn’t completely hellish. words: 4.5k a/n: i honestly don’t even know why i’m posting this but hey i made an ao3 account finally and you can read this on there if you want! richie’s part time job is purely based off of mine; i got this idea yesterday when leaving and just ran with it, and thus this chapter was born. idk when the next chapter will be up but pls give this love 

chapter one: you need a job

“Look, Rich,” Ben Hanscom starts as they exit their shared physics course, sidestepping a few other college students who were being slow. He calls back a genuine sorry after accidentally shoving one of them before turning back to his friend, the curly haired boy just barely passing him in height. “You need a job. You’re nearly twenty! Bev says they need help over there, like, so bad. They had to fire someone, and two others quit and they’re leaving in a week.”

Richie Tozier looks at Ben incredulously. The dark haired college student knew full and well of Beverly Marsh; the short little redhead is one of his best friends and Ben’s fiancée. Richie likes to give himself credit for their relationship, because according to him, he set them up back in freshman year of high school. Six years later and they’re engaged, and Bev has a full time job after finishing college within two years, and Ben’s on his way to (hopefully) be an architect. Of course, that’s not how it went. Richie and Beverly met Ben in a crappy, run down elevator that worked from time to time at their school. Ben had been running late, the other two were ditching. They got stuck for five hours in that crappy elevator. Richie just likes to say he planned it. But, of course, that’s not what this current situation is about. (And the school banned anyone from using the elevator there on out).

“Bev works at a law office, Ben!” Richie yells, throwing his hands in the air as if to make a point. “All they do is sit at desks in front of computers.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Like sitting at home on your phone or in front of the TV aren’t the same thing as sitting in front of a computer.”

Richie ignores the sarcasm. “I don’t need a job.”

“You quit your other one last month. We’re in college, man! It’s like, I dunno, death not having a job. You need to eat food!”

“I can get breakfast, lunch, and dinner here because I’m in a dorm, and on the weekends when I’m home the ‘rents cook. I’m fine!”

It’s silent as Ben gives Richie a look while they continue to walk down the steps of the building, mixing in with other students who are either leaving or heading to class. Thankfully for Richie, he only has physics today; the only down side is that it’s an 8am course, and it had been the only one available when he signed up for classes. He has Ben, though, so it isn’t all too terrible. And it’s his only 8am. Half of the others are hybrids – he only has to show up for the midterm and final, and turn in work online – and the others are either afternoon or night classes. He has it pretty easy this semester.

So, yes, he can easily get a job, and he has been thinking of getting one, but now both Ben and Beverly are pestering him about it and suddenly he doesn’t want to get one. Richie scratched at his jaw as he thought of his previous job – the stereotypical college job at McDonald’s. He’s worked there since junior year of high school, and it wasn’t that it was bad. It had been decent, at most. He liked the money, liked the food he got to bring home and to his friends, and liked the cute girls and guys who walked in. He just quit because it got too ‘going through the motions’. Richie knows a law office isn’t going to be much better.

If he gets a job, he wants to at least like it.

The January wind nips at them as they step outside, both guys’ faces scrunching up in various forms of oh shit it’s cold. Ben fixes the scarf around his neck to cover his nose and wraps his arms around himself. Meanwhile, Richie just hunches his shoulders, clenching his teeth together. In just a t-shirt, a thin zip-up jacket that’s not zipped up, and ripped skinny jeans, he wasn’t dressed properly for the winter months; Ben, on the other hand, who’s decked out in a scarf, a thick winter jacket, comfortable jeans and gloves, is dressed properly.

Richie can hear his parents’ voices now reprimanding him for not wearing the proper clothes, and soon enough her could hear his other best friend, Stan Uris, with them.

“Just… At least think about the job, okay?” Ben speaks as they get to the sidewalk by the road, lowering the scarf so his friend can hear him better. They both stop walking and face one another. “And wear decent winter clothes, man, you’re gonna catch another cold.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he says. “You’re starting to sound like Stan the Man, Mistah Handsome.”

The corners of Ben’s lips turn up. “You’re genuinely getting better at those voices, Rich.”

Richie feigned offense. One hand moves to his chest as if his heart were hurt. “You say that as if I haven’t always been amazin’,” he says, voicing sounding like it could be southern but neither of them were too sure.

“Well…”

A gasp. “Ben!”

They both start to laugh then but it dies down soon after. Ben unwraps his scarf and tosses it to Richie, who catches it with ease, and then starts to leave. “Gotta blast, Rich.”

Richie smiles. “Ah, yes, get home to the Missus!” He puts the scarf on. It’s not much at all, but it still helps.

“No, I got another class and then I’m taking the almost Missus lunch.”

“Tell Bev she sucks for me!”

“Why?”

“She ate my last bag of hot Cheetos when she stopped by yesterday.”

Ben laughs. “Alright, yeah. Will do!”

And just like that, Richie is alone. It honestly isn’t often he and Ben get to spend time together. Hell, even his time with his two best friends isn’t much. They all have school or work or both, and it’s just hard not spending as much time together as they used to. Which was where Wednesday night game nights came in. Weekends, they all went their separate ways to their parents. So, they did the next best thing: Wednesdays. At the thought of their game nights, Richie pulls out his phone as he hurriedly walks to his dorm and opens the group chat, sending a quick game suggestion.

+++

Music plays softly from the laptop at the foot of the bed, a generous amount of papers and a text book between Richie and it. He doesn’t particularly like studying – who does? – mostly because he’s never had to properly study before, but physics isn’t exactly on the easy side of things, and he doesn’t want to fail; his mom claims he probably doesn’t even need to study too much given as he understands math easily, and Richie thinks that’s the exact opposite of what a parent should be saying to their child who’s trying to successfully get through college. But, hey, they’re relationship isn’t on the rocks anymore – a shit load of teen angst on his part, a small drinking problem on her part, too engrossed into his job on Wentworth’s part, and being batshit annoying on his little sister’s part – so the legal adult doesn’t mind not being told to study, either.

The Tozier family is back to being good and mostly healthy, and as happy as they were when Richie had been a little kid. Only now, Tori is the one with teen angst and Richie’s doing his best to be a decent big brother by helping out with it.

A shrill ring cuts off the music and pulls him away from his thoughts, flinching at the sudden change in sound before reaching over and muting his laptop. He pauses the music and answers the call on his phone before pressing speaker. A smile forms at looking at the caller I.D.

“I was just thinking about you, T-Rex!” Richie exclaims and he goes back to copying down a problem from a work sheet the professor handed out in class.

“Oh, the amazing Richard thought about me,” she sarcastically says. “What ever will my fangirl heart do?”

“I predict that you will sob once the call is over and scream at your equally fangirly friends about how I graced your ears with my wonderful voice.”

“More like made them bleed.”

“You wound me!”

“Good!”

“First Ben, now you – my poor old heart can’t take it!”

“Then perish.”

He snorts out a laugh.

“But, hey, I’m calling for a reason, dickhead. Stop whatever you’re doing and listen to the best little sister in the world,” Tori tells him.

Richie sighs and drops the pencil dramatically. It hit the notebook with a soft thud but it’s loud enough for Tori to hear over the phone. “Why, do tell, young maiden,” he says, using a Voice.

“Mom’s sick with a bad cold.”

He blinks. “…Okay?”

“Dad’s gonna still be at work until five-.”

“Whoa, hold on, wait a damn minute!” Richie sits up and pulls his computer close to look at the time as he realizes what’s happening. More accurately, what the girl was getting at. “Victoria!��� Richie had been so caught up in doing the math problems and messing with the sixteen year old demon he calls a sister to even take notice of the time until then. It’s not even time for her to be out of school – hell, it was barely 11:30. “T-Rex, how scandalous of you! Skipping school.” He pauses. “Fuck, you’re me.”

“I mean…we are related.” A beat of silence. “But I’m not skipping. I got suspended. Mom’s too sick to answer the phone, and Dad’s too busy at work. I convinced them to let me call you.”

Richie sighs. “It’s two weeks into the semester, T-Rex.” He leans an elbow on his knee and put his forehead in the palm of his hand.

Getting suspended isn’t exactly a new thing for either Tozier children. Richie got detention countless of times for various reasons, earning him a few times of suspension, and Tori just has a habit of mouthing off adults – similar to her big brother – but also has one of fighting – not so similar to her big brother.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, kid.”

“Pick me up,” she replies with a duh tone.

“My truck’s still in the shop, dingbat.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have a car, either, douchebag.”

Richie is quiet for a split second. “Okay. Look. I’ll try to get one of my friends to drive me over there. Stay in the office, and just walk home if I’m not there by twelve-thirty.”

Tori grumbles. “Fine.”

Richie makes a face at her sour attitude, about to say something – “Ah, teen angst, what a marvelous thing it is” – when she hangs up before he can ever utter another word. He gasped at the device and sent her a bunch of middle finger emojis before dialing his three friends one by one. Ben didn’t answer. It stopped ringing halfway through the third ring and not a minute later, Ben’s text of “still in class” lit up his phone once again. He then calls Beverly, who he knows won’t answer but did it anyway for the sake of annoying her. To his surprise, she answers; only to greet him with a short, “No,” before hanging up on him.

“Stanny Boy, you better pick up,” Richie mutters as he crawled off of the dorm bed, finding his shoes.

“This better be good, Trashmouth,” is Stan’s form of greeting not even two seconds later.

Richie grins, pleased at least one of his friends is letting him explain. “Not good in the long run but it’s for a good enough reason, Bird Brain,” he says. “Where are you?”

“…What did you do?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not me. Our ferocious T-Rex.”

“She’s your sister.”

“She’s adopted you as her ‘better big brother’. This is what you get for befriending me when we were four and she was one, and staying best friends with me our entire lives. If you need to feel better, know that I did call Mister and Missus first because I know you enjoy your lazy Mondays.”

Stan hums. “It doesn’t.” Then Richie hears shuffling on the other end, and his hopes rise high. “But I’m on my way to pick you up. You can explain everything then.”

“You’re the best, Stanley, might as well marry you right now! Let’s go elope – take a road trip to Vegas!”

“I’ll castrate you.”

“Kinky.”

“Oh, my god.”

“See ya when you get her, my love.”

“Yuck, don’t ever call me that again. Bye.”

+++

A year and a half later, Richie never once thought he would be entering his old high school ever again – excluding the reunions he knows Beverly will drag them all to, none of the boys exactly having a choice in the matter – let alone the office of said school. Yet here he stands, all of the memories flooding back to him; both good and bad ones. He wasn’t exactly popular in school. More of the annoying class clown everyone hates but secretly finds funny. At least, at first. Everything eventually changed in sophomore year.

Richie makes a face and turns to Stan. No one was at the front desk, so they were being forced to wait to collect the youngest Tozier from the principal’s office.

“I should’ve let her rot here.”

Stan rolls his eyes. “You’re too good of a brother for that,” he says. “The principal hated you and she’s most likely getting secondhand hate from the douchebag himself.”

Richie’s eyes widen behind his glasses at the realization. He hadn’t exactly left the high school on good terms with anyone, minus his three good friends and the math teacher for the freshman, and maybe the woman who usually sits at the desk in the front office. “Fuck,” he whispers. Then louder, “What if she’s getting bullied?”

Stan gives a look that said he was crazy. “She just got suspended for fighting. I’m sure she can take care of herself, man.” He pauses, worries his bottom lip, and sighs. “But now I’m worrying about that too. So, thanks for that.”

Only a few seconds of silence goes by before Richie speaks again. “You think people still talk?”

“Nah. Everyone who was here then has graduated. Unless, one or two got held back.”

“The teachers are gossip royalty here.”

“I doubt they gossip about former students to current students, especially when one of them is your baby sister.”

“Our baby sister.”

“Just because I helped you babysit all throughout middle school doesn’t mean I’m her brother, too. We’ve been over this!”

“Try telling her that; the kid adores you! Always has.”

“Which is weird. Besides, back to the point, it's twenty-nineteen now. People who shit on someone for liking the same gender should just become extinct cavemen.” The words cause Richie to let out a laugh.

“Well, look who it is,” the lady who sits at the front desk finally appeared. Both young adults smile at seeing her, genuinely pleased. Miss Mims was one of the few adults at the school Richie and his friends liked; Hell, they still like her. In a year and a half, the woman hadn’t changed much. Long dirty blonde hair had been cut to her shoulder, and her dark eyes seem happier. Her usual blouse and nice pants are the same, and she’s still just under five feet. “Uris and Tozier, what a pleasant surprise.” Miss Mims smiles at them.

“Hi, Sara!”

“Hey, Miss Mims.”

She chuckles and holds up her left hand. “It’s Mrs. Delaney now, kids.”

Stan grins and leans forward to check out the rings on her finger. “Congratulations! When did it happen?”

Richie leans forward too, and nearly knocks Stan over, mouth in a big toothy grin. “Give us the deets, Sara! Who’s the lucky fella? Or gal, y’know. Bet they’re good in bed, huh, Staniel?”

“Rich,” Stan warns, almost in a reminding tone.

He blinked. Then, “Oh! Right, forget those questions Sar- Uh, Mrs. Delaney! My kid sister is stuck in the principal’s office, I’m sure you’ve heard why. Suspension. Fighting. The shticks.”

Mrs. Delaney snorts. “You Toziers are something else. But yeah, I’ll go get her. Where are you parents?”

“Sick and working. I’ve got the rest of the day free, so I volunteered myself to do the dirty so Went wouldn’t have to leave.” He purposefully didn’t say anything about not telling their parents, or even planning on it. At least, he knows Tori isn’t going to tell. And he’s not going to throw her under the bus no matter how funny it’ll be.

Stan rolls his eyes. “His truck isn’t working so I got dragged along.”

“You love me, Staniel.”

“Debatable.”

“I’ll go get her. Shouldn’t be long at all.”

And it isn't.

Within five minutes, the baby of the family is stepping out while Mrs. Delaney goes to her chair behind her desk, marking the girl as being picked up by a family member. The sight of Victoria, to put it simply, surprises both college students greatly. There's a cut on her bottom lip, and the intricate fishtail braid she had done that morning after straightening her usually wild curls is gone. All her knuckles are scabbed over and bruised, and there's a tear at the knee of her jeans, showing a pale bandaid instead of her pale skin. Richie quickly stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets as his brows lower in concern but mostly anger, lips pulling into a thin line. She's gotten in fights before but never has she gotten so beat up. Stan, still beside Richie, is barely hiding his shock. The stares from the two quickly make Tori uncomfortable and she shifts on her feet, tennis shoes squeaking against the polished tile. It's clear she's in a worse mood Richie originally thought. He just believed she punched someone, yelled a few choice words, and then got sent to the office. Rather, it had been a full fledged fight with two fists and blood, and he can tell Tori isn't happy. Not even angry right now. Just...sad, almost.

"You should see the other guy," she tries to joke, but it falls flat quickly.

"It was a boy?!" Richie shrieks, finally blowing his top. He can handle, for the time being, his sister fighting another girl; he can't handle a boy hitting her physically. He turns to Mrs. Delaney accusingly, the newly married woman jumping at the sudden movement. "You let a boy hit my baby sister?"

"Rich, whoa, calm down," Stan quickly moves and sends an apologetic look to the woman. "It's not her fault, man."

Tori messes with the ends of her brown hair. "I... I'll explain later. Can we just please leave?"

He shakes his best friend off of him, and Richie huffs. "Fine, okay. Whatever." He pauses. "Uh, sorry, Mrs. Delaney."

The woman just gave a smile that tells them that she forgave the outburts. Then, the three of them walk out of the school and to Stanley's car. The ride is silent almost the entire time. Stan got a phone call from his boss at a café he works at, which shifts their ending destination to Stan's work place rather than the university seeing as he needs to get to work pronto, and a spare uniform is in his trunk. Twenty minutes later, the Uris is ushering the Toziers out of his car. Richie doesn't make a move to talk about the fight. Tori doesn't make a move to explain. It's clear she doesn't want to, not yet, and even though Richie desperately wants to know what happened, he can't just force it out of her. She shuts down completely; he's learned that the hard way.

"Hey," Stan speaks up as he gets the uniform out of the trunk. "Sorry I can't take you the rest of the way."

Richie shrugs, looking around. His eyes then land on a familiar beige and dark brown building, and in the front parking lot he takes notice of a familiar black car. He checks the time on his phone, and then starts off, telling his little sister to stay by Stan's car, ignoring their calls of questions as he races across the busy street. He nearly get hit a few times and flips off anyone who honks at him, but he eventually made it to the other side. He jogs to the building and walks in, smiling widely at the receptionist up front.

"Hey, has a blond guy about my height come in by any chance?" He asks the woman who can't be much older than thirty, leaning on the counter, slightly out of breath.

She looks at him as she hangs up a call she just ended. "Yeah." Her brows pull together. "He went back that way, why?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he spins on his heel and goes in the direction the lady pointed in. It's not long at all until he hears the familiar laughter of Ben mixed with Beverly's. "My, if it isn't two my favorite people in the whole world!" Richie exclaims as he enters the office.

Ben yelps in surprise but quickly relaxes. "Jesus, Richie..."

Beverly grins and lunges at Richie, pulling him into a tight hug. "Hi! Have you made up your mind already?" She pulls back a split second later to look at him, hopeful.

"Uh." Richie holds up a finger. "No."

"Rich-."

"I need Mr. Handsome here to drive me and Tori back to the university," he interrupts her, and clasps a hand on Ben's shoulder. "And then I need to borrow his car to take her home so our parents don't find out she got suspended."

"She what?!" The two shout in unison. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that they were heard throughout the building.

"Long story," he mumbled, trying not to show how upset he was.

Beverly's blue eyes narrow the slightest bit. She knows something's up; she always does, somehow. Like a sixth-sense for when her friends are upset. Maybe it's because she's a year older than them all. "Ben's not driving you unless you agree to work here," Beverly says quickly. "Period."

"Oh, c'mon, Bev-," Richie tries. He looks to Ben for help, but the guy looks away as if he's admiring the awful pale green color on the wall.

The twenty year old shook her head, strands of red hair falling in her. She brushes them away with ease. "No. You need a job, Rich, you know that. And Maggie and Went would be agreeing with us." She motions between herself and Ben.

Richie makes a face.

"The pay's good," Beverly says quietly after a few seconds.

The look goes away. "...How good?" Not a minute later, Beverly grabs a check she has yet to put in her account and handed it to him. Brown eyes widen from behind the frames of his glasses. He let out a low whistle. "Damn..."

"They're lawyers, Richie, it's not exactly gonna be a bad pay. It's not McDonald's. And you'll most likely work part time, meaning you'll get to pick your hours. They're lenient. Just show up, do your job, respect them and everyone else, and they'll be happy."

Richie stares, thinking it over, and hands the check back to Beverly. She takes it quickly and puts it back in her purse, both her and Ben waiting for Richie's answer. He crosses his arms and looks between his two friends. Good pay. Lenient. Pick your own hours. A sigh leaves his lips and he lets his head fall backwards. He does need a job. He can't live on ramen forever, and he certainly can't live off of the box of Cosmic Brownies hidden in his closet away from his dorm mate. "Alright," he finally says, sounding defeated.

Beverly grins like a madman and squeals. "Perfect! Kim!" She dashes out of the office and grabs Richie to make him tag along. They pass by the lobby in a flash, and Richie barely has time to smile at the receptionist cheekily. They continue down the hall, passing cubicles that are mostly empty and a few offices that have people in them, and don't stop until the very end. She's then dragging him into a slightly bigger, nice office with shelves for books and a bigger desk with two chairs. A woman in her forties at at the desk, typing on her phone. She has brown hair that went to her shoulders and blue eyes peer up at them both as they stand behind the chairs. She looks nice, Richie has to admit, but there was also something about her that demanded respect and oozed authority. "Kim, this is Richie Tozier, my friend I told you about."

Richie smiles, and decides to be a decent human. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," he says, sticking a hand out for her to shake. If he could stay the way he is with his friends, he most definitely would. But Kim actually scares him a bit, and he doesn't want to get on her bad side just yet.

Kim smiles back and shakes his hand after standing. "You too, Richie. Beverly's told us a lot about you," she tells him, chuckling. "I guess she's told you about how we're low on employees?"

He chuckles. "Yea- yes, ma'am."

"He's decided to work here, as long as you and Thomas and Peter are okay with it," Beverly explains.

She scoffs and then lets out a loud laugh. "Of course we're fine with it! Work has been piling up for everyone already, and its only going to get worse when those two officially leave. We need all the hands we can get."

"I'd have to work part time," Richie tells the woman. "I'm in college."

"Completely okay," Kim says pairing her words with a smile.

"And I don't have my truck right now, its in the shop, so I don't know when I can start."

"Oh! Tomorrow! We can carpool, it'll be your sophomore year all over again - minus, y'know, the thing," Beverly says. Her hand waves in the air and she half rolls her eyes, and Richie snorts. The thing... It certainly was a 'thing', alright.

"Bev-."

"Fine, I'll make Ben drive you."

"Dude, he has barely any free time, don't do that to him... Okay, we can carpool until I get my truck back."

"Yes!"

Kim chuckles at the two, softly shaking her head. She looks at Richie then. "Welcome aboard, Richie. Come in when you can tomorrow, and then we'll figure out set hours. Sounds good?"

Richie nods. "Yes, ma'am. I'll probably be here around ten."

"Perfect."

Finally, after that and after stealing Bev's hot Cheetos Ben had brought her - he wasn't a total ass, he left the sandwich and drink - he left with Ben, the blond taking him over to where Stan works; where Tori is still patiently waiting. The girl climbs in without a second thought and thankfully Ben doesn't mention her disheveled appearance. As they leave, they wave bye to Stan. Well, they wave by to the café and grill, hoping in some weird way Stan might be able to see them.

[fight-me-wyatt]

Richie Tozier ~ Detention

Request/Prompt:  "Ok so, for the prompt list u posted, can u somehow combine "i'm gonna marry her one day" (this wasn't on the list but it's so cute to me for some reason???) "don't be an ass" and "you're such a bitch" with 16/17 year old Richie? Like just overall super fluffy ?? Idk I'm just in the mood for sum fluffy richie... Love your writing by the way! ❤❤❤" from @evelxn-cruz on tumblr. 

Ship: Richie Tozier x fem!reader 

Summary: Richie gets the reader into detention, so she gets revenge by putting him into detention. 

Type:  fluff.... But not super fluffy, I'm super sorry to the person who requested!

Warning: Only warning would be swearing, I think. 

Word count: 2971 (including A/Ns) 

Hope you enjoy it. Let me know! 

This isn't great, and it's quite different to what I usually do, and it's not very fluffy I don't think sorry!!! Let me know if you want another, more fluffy, one! Seriously just tell me to get my shit together lol. 

Also, I know the teachers I'm using are from the elementary school in Derry, but let's pretend they're high school teachers as well lol. And idk the janitors name (I couldn't find it on the wiki) so I called him Jimmy and I didn't know of the shopkeepers name so I called him Mr. Davidson (no reason, just two random names I picked). 

Not my gif, gif credit goes to @imultifandomstuff

 Y/N POV 

Richie fucking trashmouth tozier. That son of a bitch. How dare he think he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. I swear to god that god damned boy was going to be the death of me. 

I stormed out of detention, earning a warning glare from Mrs. Casey, who had been marking papers for the last three hours that I had spent in the stuffy classroom. 

I strode out of the school, passing only the janitor, Jimmy. I smiled and nodded to him. 

We were on a first name basis because of the amount of time I spent in detention, which usually involved helping Jimmy. I did have a reputation of getting into trouble for the things I did. I had become infamous throughout the school, most known for the buckets and buckets of off milk I had tipped throughout the principal and staffs offices. It was worth the weekend I spent cleaning with Jimmy, who kept giggling as he watched me scrub with a surgeons mask over my nose and mouth. 

This time however, was not something of my doing. I had just spent three hours writing out the dictionary because Richard Tozier had taken it upon himself to proclaim his "undying love" to me. 

He did this by blowing up thousands of balloons and spreading them all around the school, each with a compliment, gushing about me, using my full name. 

"Y/F/N, YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE QUEEN" read one. 

"Y/L/N WONT BE YOUR LAST NAME FOREVER, SOMEDAY IT'LL BE MINE" read another. 

This wasn't all he did though, oh no. 

He had also spray painted the words "Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N is the most beautiful person I have ever seen." In big, bright letters across the lockers. 

The school staff thought very lowly of the loving declarations, and because Richie had somehow managed to evade all suspicion (God knows how, we had been dating for nearly a year), the blame fell on me. 

 Not surprisingly, as I was known to have an ego 'as big as her tits' as Richie had once described. 

The very few who did believe me when I said it wasn't me who had done this, told me that if I suffered the consequences, the person who obviously loves me so much would also be suffering to know they put me in detention. 

 I know for a fact Richie has no remorse and is definitely not suffering. He's probably even planning his next big plan. 

 As I pushed open the squeaky doors to the great outdoors, I took a big deep breath in of the sweet, sweet air of freedom. 

I jogged down the steps, my doc martens hitting the steps rhythmically. I shrugged and pulled the collar of my leather jacket out, so that it rested more comfortably. 

 I heard a wolf whistle, and I snapped my head towards the loud, sharp sound, to see the guilty culprit leaning against the brick wall with a cigarette in his hand. Stan the man sat on the wall beside him, shrugging an apology to me. 

I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. I walked slowly over to him, crossing my arms.

"You, Richie, are a dickhead." I said, laughing slightly.

I stole his cigarette from between his fingers and took a drag. Stan laughed and jumped down from the wall. 

"Well," he said, slapping Richie on the back, "good luck, buddy" he chuckled, "see you later, Y/N/N" he strode off with hands in his pockets.

"DON’T THINK THAT I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU WERE THE ONE WHO HELPED HIM PULL THIS OFF, STANLEY, YOU BETTER SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN." I called after him, laughing as he turned and blew me a kiss jokingly. 

I turned back to Richie as he tried to grab his cigarette back from me. Pulling it away from him and out of his reach teasingly, I looked at him with raised eyebrows. 

 "So,uh, Richie. I have to be honest with you..." I paused, biting my lip and he looked at me with alarm, suddenly nervous, "today... someone" I took a deep breath before continuing, "someone declared their love to me. And wow. Seems like you've got big competition. If you're not careful, this mysterious anonymous admirer will steal me away from you ." I shrugged, taking a drag. 

His mouth dropped open and gave me a gentle shove. 

"You're such a bitch! I was seriously worried about what you were going to say!" He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me, connecting our lips slowly.

"You have to admit though, it was fucking impressive, right? I bet all the teachers and students are jealous now. I could have anyone I wanted..." he frowned, pretending to think about who he would choose. 

I laughed and shoved him. 

"Oh, don't be an ass, rich. They're all obviously wanting me, not you" I smirked and winked. 

 We both laughed, starting off down the street. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him stealing glances at me. I slid my fingers through his and swung our entwined hands between us. 

 As we walked, Richie told me in great detail of how he managed to pull his master plan off. 

 I giggled as he gestured wildly with one hand and cockily told me the extreme lengths he went to, to pull off his "prank of the century", as he called it. 

We reached my house in what seemed like no time at all. Being with Richie did that; made time go faster. He seemed to soak up all of my time and attention whenever I was with him, and I would never even realise until later on. Not that I was mad when I did realise, how could I be when it was Richie? That jackass always did something or other that should piss me off but instead just makes me grin and shake my head. 

 We stopped at my front door and turned to each other. He grabbed both of my hands and smiled. 

"I really do love you, Y/N/N." He grins and winks before continuing, "and I mean that fucking body, hot damn!" He wolf whistles and smirks, kissing my cheek. 

I pull away, teasingly as I laugh at him.

 "And here I was thinking we were having a moment... Maybe we could have another.." I whispered, leaning in so our lips were mere millimeters away from each other, before turning my head to whisper in his ear, "but I don't think you deserve one" I pulled back, a smirk on my face as I opened the door and stepped inside. 

I slowly turned back, almost as if he was an afterthought. 

"Oh, and Richie? Karma's a bitch, and she's on her way... But I may get to you before she does, so watch your back, Tozier." I smiled sweetly, and closed the door on Richie's gobsmacked face, with admiration in his eyes.

 - 

That night, all through cooking and eating dinner, my mind was swamped with ideas on how to get my revenge. As I helped my dad do the cleaning up, a plan formulated in my mind and I was gonna have fun with it. 

I turned in for an 'early night', much to my parents delight and snuck out my bedroom window with my pocket money in the deep pockets of my warmest jacket. 

I speed walked to the corner store close to our family home, wanting to get started. 

The bell trilled and I sighed, glad to be in the warmth. I grabbed a basket and searched the isles for my weapons. 

 I guess I looked a tad weird going up to the counter with over 100 golf balls, over 200 plastic cups, and about 50 bottles of dish soap. And of course a can of spray paint. 

 Mr. Davidson looked at me with raised eyebrows. He knew the family, and my notorious pranking history, so as he rung everything up, I smiled sweetly.

"So, Mr. Davidson, how's the family? Good? Now, listen, I need you to do me a huge favour. It's easy though. All you need to do is to not say anything about seeing me tonight or that I brought any of this stuff? Okay? Think you can do that for me?" I grinned, trying to look convincing. 

 He looked apprehensive about it, so I slid him an extra $5 that I had been saving for an emergency. He simply nodded and told me my large total.

 I grumbled but dug out the cash and passed it to him in coins. 

I picked up my bags awkwardly and nodded goodbye to him.

"See ya later Mr. Davidson!" I called behind me. 

"It was nice not seeing you, Miss Y/L/N" he called out, a smile clear in his voice. 

I grinned and waved behind me, the bell once again ringing as I left.

I reached the school what seemed like hours later. I grinned and used the key I had 'borrowed' from good ole' Jimmy to get in through a side door. He had passed a comment to me about losing it, but I knew that he knew I had it. I think the old fellow has a soft spot for me and my pranks. 

 Once inside I tied my hair up and got to work. I started by filling plastic cups with dish soup and put them in awkward places; on top of lockers, on tops of doors, random places on the floor that were destined to be stepped on and spilt. I struggled to carefully pick my way through the full cups without tipping them when it was just me. Imagine what the hundreds of people during the day would do. 

 Next, I dipped the golf balls in the soap and spread them out. Some in lockers I knew the codes for, some in random plastic cups, some just on the floor. 

 Soon, the somewhat narrow main hall of the school was a mine field, ready for someone to detonate my strategically placed bombs and slip over. 

 To top it off, I started to pour the remainder dish-washing soap over the clear ground before abruptly stopping. 

"Crap." I whispered, despite no one else being around. 

 I dropped the bottle I was holding and picked up my red spray paint can, shaking it. 

“Definitely should've done this first." I scolded myself. 

Carefully and painfully slowly, I made my way through the minefield of my own creation, trying to not trigger any bombs too early. 

Miraculously, I managed to get to the lockers that faced the main entrance at the T-intersection at the end of the hall without spilling any slippery soap. 

I shook the can once more, before painting the lockers in big, bold, easy-to-read words. 

I stepped back slightly, narrowly missing a golf ball and looked over my artwork. I frowned in thought, then crouched down to add a few extra words. I stood up and smiled. 

Happy with myself, I made my way back to my abandoned bottles. I finished off my job by spreading the last of the soap in the bottles all over the squeaky clean floor, so it was a slippery, sticky mess (much like the situations I frequently managed to get myself into). 

I laughed evilly to myself, clapping my hands in achievement as I looked over my beautiful creation one more time, the red letters standing out to me. 

Quickly, I picked up the waste products from my master plan and set off for home, not before locking up. 

I yawned as I hauled myself silently through the window of my bedroom. I chucked the empty bottles and can into my wardrobe, wincing at the slight noise they made as they landed. I kicked off my boots and fell into bed, not bothering to get changed. I was so tired, I had barely glanced at the clock, that read 2:19am, before falling into a deep sleep.

- 

That same clock woke me up with a drilling urgency at 7am. Groaning into the pillow, I reached blindly for the murderer of my sleep. As I pulled myself up into an upright position, I managed to stop the blaring. I grinned sleepily, remembering the night and my own brilliance. The smell of waffles wafted through to my room and in a rush I got ready for school and ate lightening fast before heading on my way. 

 I reached school, with a grin on my face. I pushed open the entrance doors to be greeted with beautiful, beautiful chaos. Perfect. 

Everywhere, teachers and students alike were slipping, sliding, tripping and falling in the hallway of soap. It worked better than I ever could have imagined. I looked around, smirking at the detonating bombs causing people to fall with a comic-like 'splat!'. And those words on the lockers stood out more than ever, perfectly framed by people sliding to the floor in front of them. 

 "RICHIE TOZIER, I THINK IM SLIPPING AND FALLING FOR YOU." They read.

 And in smaller writing beneath it was: "I THINK STAN URIS PUSHED ME THOUGH." 

I moved out of the doorway and to the side so any newcomers could get the full experience. And as I reread the red words with a sense of proudness, the men of the hour walked through the doors. 

Both Richie and Stan's mouths fell open - with sheer amazement, I'm assuming - and they looked from the chaos, to the words, to each other and back again. They burst into laughter, the type of laughter that makes you hold your stomach because it starts to hurt. Once they were able to bring down the cackling to small giggles, they wiped the tears from their eyes and scanned the squealing and squawking crowd of people for me, and just as they spotted me and started to walk over to me, Mrs. Douglas spotted them. Somehow, she got through the minefield, only skidding a few times, using students as support, and reached the two alarmed boys. From my position I couldn't hear what was being said but she seemed angry. I wonder why. And the boys looked sheepish, unable to get a word in edgewise to tell her it wasn't actually them. Hello? Karma? Is that you? Oh good! Perfect timing. 

Mrs. Douglas dragged both Stan and Richie by their elbows towards the detention room. Except the minefield was between them and said room. 

 With Mrs. Douglas refusing to let go off the boys, they managed to all fall victim to my slip 'n' slide a grand total of 12 times. That's gotta be a record for the short distance they had to go. 

Just before they disappeared into the room, Richie turned back and locked eyes with me. We grinned at each other, across the war torn zone of the hallway, staring at the other as if we were right in front of each other. 

 "Well played." He mouthed at me from across the hall. 

I blew him a kiss and winked as he gave me the middle finger and got pulled into the room. 

Stan and Richie were sentenced to writing a minimum three page essay on what had happened, why they were in trouble, and any other information they could give on the prank in total silence. At least that's what they told me afterwards when they emerged from their prison to where I waited for them with a cigarette. What I didn't know was the specifics of what happened during detention. 

So, I didn't know that ten minutes in; Stan had one sentence and Richie had a blank piece of paper. 

I didn't know that Richie had turned to Stan, fiddling with his pencil, deep in thought. 

I didn't know that when Richie turned to Stan, he said, "i'm gonna marry her one day." 

I didn't know that he meant it wholeheartedly.

I didn't know that Mrs. Douglas had immediately shushed him. 

 And I didn't know that Stan had simply smirked and replied, "I know, Richie." 

A/N: I'm really sorry about this lol it's super bad. Please let me know ways to improve! I'm super sorry there's not many cute fluffy couple moments. I tried something different and I'm not sure if I like it or not! Let me know if you do or don't and why!

[jornami]

Drunken Confessions

A/N: A request, finally!!!! I'm so excited to write this, also don't forget to send in request! Thank you to @linmanuclmiranda for helping me edit this! She’s a lifesaver! PS: Did anyone get my How I Met Your Mother reference?

Prompt: Can I request something??? How about a Drunk!Lin confessing his love for the reader but the reader is all flustered and thinks it's just the alcohol talking but it's not. Idk you can elaborate more on that but I love your writing so much!! And If u have any fic recs with Drunk!Lin could u link them? Bc I really need more Drunk!Lin in my life. Thanks~

Pairing: Lin x reader

Warnings: alcohol, cursing (per usual)

Masterlist | Request!

As the costume manager for the musical “Hamilton” at the Richard Rodgers Theater, you were living the dream. You had been blessed with a love for musical theater, but cursed with an inability to sing. Costume manager was the next best thing; however, costumes weren’t  your only job. You made sure Leslie took off his wedding ring, all the mics worked, and you also made sure Anthony put his hair down to play Philip in act two which he often forgot. They had many different names for you such as: “angel in the wings,” “lifesaver,” and “the backbone of Hamilton.”

“Hey, angel in the wings,” Lin said as he walked into the costume storage room.

“Hey, Miranda,” you replied, not looking up from the buttons you were sewing. “’here for your costume?”

He nodded and you grabbed the infamous green suit off of the costume rack.

“You know you can just keep your costume in your dressing room, right?” you smiled as you handed him the costume.

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly.

“Then why don't you?” you pushed.

“I, um, I uh just—” he stuttered but he was cut off by a voice over the loudspeaker.

“Two minutes to places!” it said.

“I have to go!” Lin practically shouted, causing you to jump a little.

“Uh, okay, see you later,” you said, but he was already half way down the hallway.

Weird.

After bows and singing “Happy Trails” to Marie from the ensemble, Lin finally came back to turn in his costume.

“Here ya’ go,” he said as he handed you his costume.

“Thanks,” you told him as you turned around to hang it up. “have a goodnight, Lin.”

“Hey!” he spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“We're celebrating Marie’s farewell at Puzzles on 32nd tonight, and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come?”

Puzzles was one of your favorite bars, and the best part about it was there were no last calls. Though, you could never quite figure out why it was called Puzzles.

“I'd love to!” you said sincerely.  

You looked at Lin and saw pure nervousness etched across his face. Why the hell was he so nervous?

“Lin,” you spoke in a concerned tone, “what's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied and shakes his head. “let's go.”

He was lying.

It was around 2am and most everyone had left, even the girl of the hour.  However, Anthony, Jasmine, Daveed, Oak, and Lin were still there. Jas, Ant, and Daveed were crowded around you like kids on the carpet for story time. You were telling them about your trials as a tech in high school.

“Then this girl tried to bribe me with a Baja Blast from Taco Bell!” you told them and they erupted with laughter.

“Where's Lin?” Jas asked, as the laughter died down.

“Over at the bar,” you replied.

“Can you tell him me and Ant are leaving?” she asked.

“No problem, see you tomorrow,” you told her as she practically pulled Anthony off the floor.

You made your way over to Lin who was three sheets to the wind. He was looking at his hands like they belonged to someone else. He was miles past tipsy.

“Hey Lin, Ant and Jas wanted me to tell you that they're leaving,” you said as you patted him on the back.

“You're so pretty,” Lin said out of nowhere.

“Thanks—”

“Like really, really, really pretty!”

“Thanks Lin, I—”

“You're like a fucking goddess!” Lin drunkenly giggled, causing your cheeks to get hot.

“Lin, it's time to get you home,” you suggested.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.

You sighed, “What is it, Lin?”

“C’mere,” he beckoned and motioned you to come closer.

“There's this really cute girl,” Lin whispered in your ear, “she’s the costume manager. The only reason I go down there to get my costume everyday is because I wanna see her.”

Did he forget who he was talking to? Was this actually happening?

“Lin,” you began but stopped, realizing you had nothing else to say.

“You kinda look like her!” Lin said and flashed you a cute smile.

“Don't move, I'm gonna have Oak get you a cab,” you told him.

You walked backed over to where Oak was sitting and told him what had just happened. You both agreed that the next day would be filled with tension and awkwardness. Oak promised to get Lin a cab and tease him about his outburst of feelings non stop. You laughed and said goodbye to everyone then walk outside into the cool New York air to catch a cab.

Tomorrow was definitely to be interesting.

For the next two days after the incident at Puzzles, Lin had Daveed pickup and return his costumes for him. You were getting tired of Lin being a wimp.

“Hey Y/N, I'm here to pick up Lin’s costume,” Daveed announced as he leaned against the doorframe.

“No,” you stated and continued to fix the costumes on the rack.

“What do you mean ‘no?’” Daveed questioned with the slightest bit of sass in his tone.

“No, Lin can come down here, pick up his costume, and face me like a real man, or he can go onstage naked!” you spat, fed up with the childishness of the situation. “Also, fix that tone!”

Daveed looked like a child who had just been scolded. He backed away awkwardly and turned to leave. Damn, it felt good to get that off of your chest.

Lin hurried down to get his costume after Daveed told him. You were going to talk to him about the other night, but then a bell dinged signaling it was time for the actors to be in places. You just rolled your eyes and told him that you would talk to him after the show was over.

Finally, the show was over. You were getting super anxious waiting for Lin to come back down to return his costume. You couldn't imagine how he must've felt.

“Y/N?” a voice asked sheepishly from the hallway.

“Lin, come in,” you told him. “close the door behind you.”

He walked in hesitantly and closed the door once he was in.

“So,” you began. “there's this super cute guy and the other night he confessed his feelings for me. But he's been ignoring me ever since, and it's starting to worry me.”

Lin looked confused at first, but eventually caught on.

“He meant what he said, but he's a dork that gets super nervous and flustered when he thinks about you,” Lin played along. “or something like that, I don't know the guy.”

You chuckled at his joke and smiled at him.

“If I asked the guy on a date, do you think he'd say yes?” you smirked and walked closer to him.

“He'd have to be a fool say no,” Lin smiled and dropped the act, “wanna go to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“I’d love to,”

“How does 8 sound?”

“Perfect.”

Lin flashed you a smile and turned to leave, but you pulled him by his hand.

“Miranda, wait!” you said.

“Yeah?” he asked and you pulled him into a kiss.

Damn, you could get used to that.

You pulled away and said, “I know that we're supposed to wait until after the date to do that, but you're just so damn irresistible that I couldn't help myself.”