#or maybe since we go to the same tuition they always post the names of everyone who's passed so i thought then ill wish

[girlivealwaysbean]

btw everytime i give up on chasing someone and begging for their love because im 'better' than that, god looks at me kindly and says ye lo beta take this person you haven't talked to in a very long time due to life reasons and gives them back to me even if briefly

[forsworned]

[♥] collegeau! to date or not to date {rengoku kyoujurou x reader}

Genre: Comedy, Slight Fluff, Slight Sensual Themes

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Renguko Kyoujorou/Reader

Word count: 2,791

a/n: continuation of unintentionally roomates which you can find here ,,requests are open

➽────────────── ────────────── ──────────── ❥ 

It had been some weeks since she had gotten used to Kyoujurou being her roommate. So far neither of them had walked in on each other naked--yet. He was pretty tidy and would call her out in a teasingly kind of way that she'd sleep with her mouth wide open which made her pretty insecure, but he insisted it was "very cute." Which didn't make it any better. He could concur that it probably wasn't a good idea to show her the picture he had taken of her (he actually would look at it when he was having a bad day or he just wanted a good laugh; he also nearly made it his homescreen but decided that was maybe a little too far).

Mid-terms would be coming up soon and Kyoujurou wanted to do something fun before all the stress would settle in from piles of homework assignments and study guides. He suggested that the both of them should go to the amusement park and [name] was more than delighted to go, but there was a small issue with this. She didn't know if it was a date or just them simply hanging out. He just brought it up so casually when they had just finished a round of Super Smash Bros. and [name] was trying her hardest not to be a flustered mess about it.

"Just ask him." Shinobu's usual singsong voice was now monotonous. She had had enough of [name]'s shit to say the least. Always inquiring about Kyoujurou since Shinobu and him had been in the same graduating high school class and friend group. Not to mention mid terms were coming up and pre-med was no joke.

[Name] visibly sulked at her friend's tone. She didn't like being a nuisance to Shinobu, even though it wasn't hard to irate her nerves, but this time she seriously needed help and Shinobu was being nothing less than unpleasant.

"Shinobuuuu," [Name] whined. "This is a big deal for me. Please give me advice and I won't bring it up ever again."

The ravenette's eyes darted to the [h/c] pleading gaze, and it was enough to make to [name] squeak. Shinobu let out a sigh before speaking.

"Fine," [name]'s expression brightened, but Shinobu's finger pressing into her forehead made it falter a little. "but you don't need to stop talking about him. Just do it a lot less. I need to focus on exams."

[Name] cheered in triumph and fist pumped into the air, which in turn made Shinobu laugh. She wanted to be there for [name] in anyway she could, just within some restrictions and limitations. Shinobu's face suddenly went gravely serious.

"So here's the game plan."

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

[Name] took a deep breath before looking at her reflection. Her outfit was subtle yet cute. A simple blue top and beige skort to prevent panty reveals yet still have the illusion of wearing a skirt. Hair was pinned and pulled back abover her neckline since the sun would be beating down and she wanted to take every precaution to avoid any excessive sweating. Make up was light to circumvent it from melting off her face. Yes, [name] was over meticulous because she was resolute in this hang out/date to be absolutely perfect. And if Kyoujurou had decided to reject her than at least she'd look hot getting her heartbroken.

He had already left over an hour ago since he had to tutor a student in history at the tutoring center. A work study job that he picked up to help cover his tuition and endlessly spoke about when he got back to his dorm when you two were winding down from your day.

[Name] spritzed her best perfume to all her pulse points to extend the life of her scent as it hit her body. She threw it in her bag along with her make up just in case she needed to freshen up. One last look in the mirror and she was finally off to her date, er, hang-out thingy.

The autumn air was irregularly warm and humid. Well, not irregular for Okinawa at least. It was a sub tropical climate which meant mild winters and the moist summers were what [name] favored most about it here.

As she walked out of the dormitory and into the student parking lot, she was nearly blinded by the blond tresses sitting on the bench. Like quite, literally blinded. The sun was bouncing off his fiery hair more than usual and it was causing [name] to squint at him when she approached him. For some reason (she had an exact reason being that she looked super hot), [name] felt bold, and advanced toward Kyoujurou with hands concealing his vision. He visibly tensed and she couldn't help but feel a smile tug at her lips.

"Guess who."

His body now relaxing at the sound of her voice and she felt the apples of cheeks rise into a grin against the palm of her hands. "[name], you're finally here!"

She released her hands as he got up to face her and his jaw went a little aslack as he oggled at her profile. [Name] was stunning, indeed. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he dryily swallowed. His hair that was now pulled back in a high ponytail let his bangs frame his face beautifully, swayed in the small gust momentarily. She could've sworn that he was blushing at her, but then again it was quite hot...

"You look--um, quite sharp!" He stammered. Kyoujurou mentally socked himself in the face. Sharp? That was the best he could come up with?

[Name]'s expression was now in a state of bemusement before she laughed melodically. To him it was a beautiful melody that he always tried to sway out of her with corny jokes and memes. "Well, thank you Kyoujurou. You look quite sharp, too!"

[Name] wanted to die. She looked sharp? Sharp?! No, she looked Hot! With a capital freaking "H".

Nonetheless, [name] shook it off. She was determined to make this flawless even if it was off to a rocky start. Thankfully the ride to the amusement car was starting to make up for it. The both of them jammed to the playlist they had put together earlier and discussed which rides they were excited about most.

"$50?!"

"You really don't read things thoroughly do you, [name]."

[Name] ignored his attempt at poking fun at her. It was always like this whenever she freakishly exclaimed about information that was news to her, but had been there for well however long the inital post had been there for and Kyoujurou had always made it a point to call her out for it.

"Well, I can't make you pay for it." She deadpanned. And she absolutely meant it. Kind of. Not really. It would mean that it would technically be a date, right? Right? A guy paying always meant that it was a date. [Name] mentally nodded at herself reassuring herself.

"Well, that's too bad." He inserted his card into the chip reader and thanked the attendant while grabbing his receipt.

[Name] bit back a smile as they walked side by side into the park. "Well, I'm going to pay you back."

He looked at her with an uncharacterstically sultry gaze. "No, you are not."

His voice demanding, dropped an octave and it sent a shiver up her spine. [Name] would be lying to herself if she said that it didn't make the her stomach knot up. Kyoujurou pulled out his phone pointed it towards her, trying to get a good angle and lighting.

"Now, give me a smile!" He beamed in his usual cheery tone. [Name] smiled posing her usual peace sign as he clicked away at his phone. Had she just imagined that?

The day seemed to slip past them as they took pictures with their phones and disposal camera they bought at the one of the stands for a whooping $25. Which was a total rip off, but then again bottled water was $5. The pair were laughing as they looked through the pictures they had taken throughout their trip.

"Oh, no. You are not keeping this one." She reached over to tap the trash can on his phone screen to get rid of the terrible photo that was her inhaling funnel cake. But before she could, Kyoujurou moved his screen away from her as he chuckled at [name] getting flustered. There was no way he'd let her get away with such a cute picture.

"I am definitely going to be framing this as soon as we get back." And that made [name]'s face inflame in embarrassment and shock. She was definitely, not going to let him do that.

"You delete that, right. Now!" She tried her best to extend her arms in every which way Kyoujurou was flexing his arms out but to avail. [Name] knew she wasn't going to get her hands on his phone, but she kept leaning over in an attempt to get an advantage on his long arms. That was until she clambered into his lap, face first into his crotch.

Kyoujurou froze and his breath hitched as he lowered his arm down and let unholy thoughts pass through his head but he quickly shook them off. "A-are you alright, [name]?"

Nope, now [name] was definitely going to die. She slowly rose out of his lap and plopped back into her seat, trying her best not to make the situation even more awkward. She shot him a smile in a strive to shake off the graceless action of diving face first into the crotch of her crush.

"I'm all good." She took a deep breath before looking up at the darkening sky. Kyoujurou couldn't tell what she was thinking, but it looked almost as if she was unfazed which he was very thankful for.

"Let's go on the ferris wheel before we leave!" That snapped him out of his thoughts. A grin now making its way back onto his face and a sound of approval emitted from his lips. "Let's do it!"

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

[Name] snickered to herself as they entered the ferris wheel seating after letting several people ahead of them. It was all going according to plan, well, not the face planting into Kyoujurou’s lap. That was definitely not in the plan she and Shinobu had concocted.

“So, here the game plan.” Shinobu stated matter-o-factly. Her name were in a crouched position as if in a very important football team meeting. “You’re gonna look hot. Like I’m talking Jennifer’s Body hot. And then—“

”But i don’t have clothes like that.”

“Shut up. We’ll go shopping. And your make up has got to be perfect like I’m talking no melting off your face looking like the Corpse Bride. Oh, and you’re drowning yourself in sexy perfume every thirty minutes.”

”But I—“

”Speak out of line one more time and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine.”

“Back to what I was saying. You’re gonna take loads of pics start it off friendly and lighthearted and then bam! You get him on that ferris wheel and get your flirt on. End the night off with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel.”

Shinobu was extremely gifted in giving pep talks and revving them up. Which was probably why she was captain of the cheer team at their university.

[Name] felt like she was a crazy high. She could practically run four miles nonstop with the attitude she had in that moment.

Shinobu and her high fived, one leg kicked up in to the air with the most triumphant looks on their faces. “We got this!”

She shook her head as if to shake away the thought.

”You, ok?”

She smiled at the slightly dampened Kyoujorou who’s cheek were tinted pink from the heat. Beads of sweat has slid down his temples, but that only seemed to add to his sex appeal.

”More than ok. I love ferris wheels. They’re so romantic.”

Those words left her lips and turned in a smile that was as sweet as candy. Kyoujurou’s heart leapt in his chest as he eyed her intently.

”You could say that.”

He done fucked up again. Kyoujurou wanted to kick his own ass at this point. Why was he so terrible at flirting? It made him look like he didn’t pick up any social cues at all. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. There were many times where Tengen would point out that a girl was being extremely flirtatious with him but it would simply go over his head. He would usually reject the notion claiming they were just being nice which in turn would lead to Tengen face palming. And he thought he was doing such a good job at the start.

The silence was deafening as they reached the top of the ride and it suddenly came to a jerking stop. The view was wondrous. The sun kissed at their faces and grazed the tops of trees and the peaks of roller coaster rides. Brightly colored lights flashed simultaneously down below, but [Name]’s  stomach felt like it was caving in the longer she stared. Very romantic, indeed.

Her face must’ve looked a little green because Kyoujurou’s expression turned into a worried one. “You sure you’re okay, [name]? Have some water.”

She grabbed the bottle he handed to her and instead of water falling like she usually did, she pressed her lips against the same place his had been. Kyoujurou’s eyes widened in surprise as she absentmindedly guzzled his drink down and gave it back to him. His hands turning into fists as he flexed as hard he could to keep the warmth that was rising away from that region.

“Thanks.” She gasped. [Name] wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she leaned back against the seat. So much for her game plan. She sighed to herself as she collected her thoughts. What difference would it make if she just told him right now.

”Kyoujurou.” The name left her lips so effortlessly. He loved the way she said his name. He would think about it mostly in the shower, but more innocently before he went to sleep.

He raised his eyebrows fully attentive now. She turned to face him as she leaned forward. A different look on her face. Soft and flustered. “I like you, a lot.”

His body stiffened for a moment and a cool breeze swooped past their longing gazes. The sudden realization had dawned upon him that those words weren’t just make believe. She had really uttered them into existence. He hadn’t noticed how close her lips were to his until he felt her minty breath fan against his nose. He didn’t pull away.

[Name] closed the distance between their lips and Kyoujurou instinctively leaned in more as soon as they made contact. His hand cupped her cheek to deepen the kiss and she sighed in delight. A smile now etched on her face had now infected him and he pulled away to look at her. He caressed her cheek as she giggled and he gazed her puzzled.

”Did I do something wrong?” If he kissed her wrong he definitely wanted to know. One thing about Kyoujurou was that he was always open to constructive criticism. She shook her head. The content look on her face still evident.

”Not at all.” She leaned in once more. “I just didn’t expect you to be so frigid.”

She giggled again at his surprised, yet embarrassed mien. However, [name] stopped giggling when she saw the determined look on his face.

”Well, I can do better.” He suddenly captured her lips and she instantly melted at his hot touch. His hand loosely on her waist and she moaned a bit as their kisses turn into feverish open mouthed ones. His lips detached from hers as he felt the the ride coming back down. [Name] felt like her whole body was in flames and there Kyoujurou was sitting there as cool as a cucumber.

The ride shifted the shuttle as the two got up and his hands slipped in hers as he lead them out. She couldn’t believe  the stunt he just pulled. Her fingers on her lips still feeling the ghost of his. He laughed heartily at her reddened face and that captured her attention.

”Don’t worry. We can continue that when we get back.”

[Name] was speechless, but somehow was even more flushed than before. Kyoujurou chuckled at her again as he pulled her in for a side hug as they headed back to his car. The smug look never left his face.

[duchess-fox]

Lessons from the Screen: Juliet Sharp (Gossip Girl)

Juliet was a controversial character - you either loved her or hated her. I personally liked her character and feel the writers did her dirty with the drugging of Serena storyline (because in the GG world, underdogs and social climbers must be squashed). I think there's a lot to learn from this character, more so than any of the others especially in the journey to levelling up.

Who is Juliet?

Juliet is strictly middle class. Her family lives in a nicer part of the United States - Cornwall, Conneticut - but she herself did not attend the private school in the area. Her half brother was a teacher at that private school.

Juliet is both streetsmart and booksmart. She has the booksmarts to get into Columbia and she has the streetsmarts to put an elaborate plan to take down Serena into action.

Columbia and Keeping Up

She attends Columbia, an ivy league school, but not without her cousin's help. We see that Juliet relies on him for her tuition and living expenses. Most college students would work to supplement their meager income - however Juliet does not.

Juliet joins Hamilton House and eventually becomes their key master. This pursuit was probably almost full time work in itself.

Juliet was able to successfully plant herself among the children of members of high society and would have likely have successfully found herself married into their ranks if not for her involvement with Serena & Co.

Juliet's Downfall

Juliet is forced to bow out of the scene (a possibly withdraw from university) after forcing Serena into an institution.

Her single-mindedness and desperation to exact justice for her brother leads to her cousin cutting off her financial support and possibly being forced to withdraw from Columbia.

Lessons we can learn

The right place, at the right time

We, and Nate, are first introduced to Juliet when Nate takes his one-night stand date to brunch at Norma's - an upscale restaurant. She's there reading The House of Mirth and drinking a coffee. She's a refreshing change to the girls that Nate has been seeing lately who seems to only have a handful of phrases in her pretty head.

Lesson: Being at the right place, at the right time can help you meet potential friends and even partners. Like Juliet, you don't have to be there for breakfast, just there reading a book and drinking coffee. So even though you might not want to spend too much money on eating out, buying a coffee is relatively inexpensive. Treat it as if you're taking yourself out on a date - maybe even get yourself a slice of cake and enjoy it slowly along with your book. Make sure the place is upscale, make sure your book is physical (no e-readers - it's hard to have conversation about a book when people can't see what you're reading).

Learn to DIY beauty treatments

In order to keep up with fellow Hamilton House club members, she had to be resourceful. She learned to blowdry her own hair and likely did other beauty treatments herself.

Lesson: If you can't afford to have your nails and hair done, learn how to do them yourself! I do my own gel manicures and I use Korean products, the exact same ones as the salon I used to go to. While you might not be able to source the exact products a salon will use (since a lot of products are professional only), you can still get some quality products. There are also heaps of tutorials online on how to do your nails and your hair.

Stretch your resources when it comes to your wardrobe

We primarily see Juliet in a lot of neutrals - namely grey. She probably also has the only wardrobe that remains somewhat relevant today. She also needs to dress for the kind of crowd she wants to be a part of.

She goes to an outlet to buy designer clothes and if she does buy from the department stores in the city, she returns them after she wears them. She even has a tagging gun to put the tags back on. She also subscribes to Rent the Runway to supplement her wardrobe.

Lesson: While I don't condone the returning of worn clothing, if you have to have some designer clothes, Rent the Runway is great for that - it allows you to rotate clothing at a fee which is good if you have special occasions to dress for.

In saying that, designer clothing is very hit or miss (as evidenced by the other character wardrobes from Gossip Girl). You're much better off having some classic, timeless pieces - sheath dresses, blazers, button downs, simple sweaters, jeans that look amazing on you (regardless of what silhouette is currently in fashion). You can always accessorize with jewelry, bags, belts and shoes.

Men don't give a shit about what designer bag/shoes you're wearing as long as it looks expensive. So you don't have to get an expensive bag - just one that looks high quality and therefore expensive (I should probably do a post on what to look out for).

Put your best interests first

Juliet loses everything because she's too busy trying to get revenge for her brother who doesn't seem the least bit remorseful that he cost his sister her education and possibly her future. Her cousin stops funding her tuition when she gets involved in his relationship with Serena.

Lesson: So, think of your own best interests first. Don't set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm!

[cosmiclatte28]

Dream a Dream (Renjun x you)

a/n: Hello! It’s been a while, but happy new year! Sorry for not updating any stories, as I mentioned in previous post I have several stories stuck because of home works and a busy week. 

So, here marks my first oneshot of Renjun and first oneshot after the Christmas project! Without further delay, here we go!

Warning : angst but of course it ends beautifully   you can also see I am simping Renjun now :D 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 

For the second time, you sigh and look into your brother’s eyes trying to find help. The dining room suddenly feels so suffocating and you try to cower yourself to feel smaller in this room. Across you is your brother, Jeno, and on his right is your father beside you sit your mother.

“I have told you, you are not going to Japan, not to study there.” Your mother continues her rambling. It is dinner, but she doesn’t seem to care. The atmosphere is ruined, for you, to enjoy the heartful dinner.

You want to backlash at her words, saying that no matter what she says, you will find a way to get that scholarship offer and fly to the Rising Sun country to pursue a degree. However, you know better to be quiet now if you still want to try and coax her tomorrow.

Earlier you were saying that your application to your dream university in Japan is accepted, Jeno was delighted when he heard this but your happiness come to an end right the second your mother went into your room and snatch the acceptance letter. Her eyes widened and the next thing you know, she stormed out of the room with a hard look on her face.

When your father arrives home, everyone is seated in their chairs and mother decided to talk about the acceptance letter and how you are not allowed to go.

“I’ve told you (y/n), you are my only daughter and I do not want to lose my only daughter.” She at first calmly says this. Then she continues “Didn’t I tell you already that you’re beautiful, pretty, charming, and those traits are enough to ensure you a rich husband that will fulfil your life perfectly.”

Your father doesn’t seem to object nor care, well you believe he is already tired listening the same thing going on for the last three years. Since your freshman year in high school, you’ve been telling your family of your dream to study in Japan, but since day one, your mother objected. Her reason was not because you’re dumb or your family cannot fund the tuition, it’s merely because she believes a daughter shouldn’t live a hard life. Studying and working hard are the responsibilities of the men she said, and women like you just have to find the rich husband, dress nice beside them and be their good companion.

“Mom, I know, but the world has changed. I want to pursue my dream like Jeno hyung.” You politely speak up.

Her grip on the spoon stiffens and she looks into you sternly, “Jeno should earn his degree so he can work successfully and provide good wealth for his family. You darling, I am offering you an easier path and I know just the perfect place to find you the dearest, rich husbands. Now enough of this talk, finish dinner and help me clean up the dishes.”

Jeno kicks your leg under the table to at least send you a signal that he is going to stand on your side. His face shows he is sorry for you, but he knows now is not the right time yet to speak up.

Dinner ended and you help your mom to wash the dishes. Well you do have maids, but they do not stay the night at home. The maids are only here from morning to noon, dinner must be taken care by your mom and you.

“(Y/n), for the sake of god. Stop acting foolish. I’ve seen you sneaking around to extra science classes at school, instead of going to the socialite gathering I signed you up for.” She said in disappointment.  

You sigh, well in your private school for elites there is a silly community where the rich gathers and make bonds, attend weekend parties or social events, and if you’re lucky win one of their hearts and got asked a hand for marriage.

“It’s just a science club, they’re fun and I only go there once a week.” You lie, you go there every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and just pop into the community once in a month.

Your mother chuckles, “You think I am stupid? I know you do not attend the socialite gathering, you always go home to finish a lab report. I mean you being in your room, without any loud voice of the TV nor any sound of you calling anyone means you either read or do something. You don’t read because your books are in the library.”

You curse in your heart, she really is as smart as Sherlock, why can’t she allow you to use your similarly brilliant brain to study rather than prepare to be a good wife.

“I am texting the school’s principal to ban you from that science club, you must attend the community’s events. Also, stop seeing that man from your science club, Huang? Huang Renjun is it? He isn’t as noble as the others, instead I suggest you learn more about that son of NA CORPS, Jaemin.” she wipes her wet hands on the towel and leaves you speechless.

You stand in front of the sink, perplexed that your mother knows everything about your secret. More surprisingly she knows Renjun, now who is spilling the secret here?

You go up to your room and sit on your bed. Your eyes drift to the duffel bag you’ve prepared this week. Your phone rings and you pick it up with a big grin.

“Renjun-a!” you greet him as you fling yourself to the big soft mattress in your lavender room.

There is a soft giggle from the other end, “Hey there princess,” he greets. You blush at the nickname, Renjun has been your best friend since the first day of school. You share a table with him and he shares the same timetable as yours. He is a fun guy with angelic features, blonde hair, and beautiful voice. Both of you love nature and has been in the science club and scout team for three years. This Friday there is a scout camp going on until Sunday and Renjun had helped you sign up for it, since your mother would maybe die if she knows her daughter is not only a science club member but also a scout girl.

“So, are you packed up for Friday?” he asks just in case you need help from him to get supplies.

You shake your head, “No need. Mom actually thought I am going to stay over at Victoria’s house. Well she promised she won’t spill any tea and lie for me as I promise her Jeno’s number.”

Renjun giggles, he knows you will find a way and he has no doubt that 97% of them always work.

“Great then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night luv, take care!” Renjun sends a flying kiss through the phone and you blush at this. He is not your boyfriend, but look at how comfortable he is to flirt around with you.

“Bye bye Injunie,” you squeak and close your phone right in time when the door opens and a wild Jeno appears.

“You’re staying in Victoria’s house?” he asks, apparently your mother told him not to pick you up tomorrow because you’re staying over.

You pull him into your side and glance on the door. “Shh, I lied. Keep it a secret, I’ll be in the mountain tomorrow. So, if there is no signal or bad reception.. please cover up for me.”

Jeno shakes his head, “Cover up? I need to lie again?”

You plead him with your puppy eyes he always lose to, “I’ll accompany you to the cat café next month for the whole week.”

He smiles “Nice, don’t worry I’ll pretend I know what you’re doing.”

You grin “Oh please work on the lie with Victoria, so if mom cross checks you two won’t be caught lying. I have put her name under your contact list.”

Jeno looks surprised, but just shakes his head. “Come here,” He pulls you into his arms and hugs you.

You breathe in and relax your shoulder, “I am sorry for what mom always do to you. I’ll try to talk with her when you’re away. Just take good care of yourself and have fun okay!” he ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead.

“Thank you hyung,” you whisper and detach yourself from him.

The next day, you’re very excited to finally leave behind your problems with mom and just enjoy your freedom in the camping grounds. It’s just near the mountain and the track is not hard. You and Renjun are a part of the officer team, considering the fact that both of you are senior here.

“Need help pitching that tent?” Renjun pops up behind you and you shake your head, “Nah, I’m good, almost done. Why don’t you help the juniors?” you point your chin at a group of struggling kids, well it is not surprising some of them are never raised this way but they have to choose one activity outside subject and the scout activity is always the one with least student. So, those who are late in registering will end up here.

You finish setting up your tent, help the others too and go with the activities. There’s nothing much to do, you just have to prepare dinner with Renjun while the other instructors will lead the troop to explore the areas and learn basic nature things.

You admit Renjun cooks better than you, although his cooking skills are just to the point where it is edible, yours are worse.

“How is this?” Renjun brings a spoonful of the red kimchi stew he is making, and you take a taste test.

Your eyes lighten up, “Hm this is way better than what you always make for me.” He sends you a death glare, but you’re used to it. “Hey at least I am saying something good.” You bump his shoulder and his smile relights.

“Look at the cute couple here, what are you two making this time?” A familiar mischievous voice makes the two of you turn your heads to sigh at the man coming to the cooking area.

“Haechan,” you sigh, “We’re not a couple and what are you doing here? What’s your duty?” you ask as you continue helping Renjun cuts up tofu and onions. Haechan is the most annoying yet dearest friend of yours.

“I am the guarding team, my job is basically in the night with Mark. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you two if you’re going to spend a time alone in the woods.” He winks and you throw him a spoon, that missed but he’s happily running away. Renjun stays quiet somehow after Haechan’s appearance but you don’t really take matter of it. He’s always quiet when he’s focused.

Dinner went amazingly well, all of the tired students enjoy Renjun’s kimchi stew and you’re glad you don’t have to wash the dishes, the students played a game and losing team has to clean up.

The night activity too was like the usual one, where we sit around the bon fire and tell stories. It is dark and now you’re alone with Renjun left by your side. He grabs a guitar someone brought and after taking glance around, Renjun picks the strings and start playing a piece of melody. You lean into his shoulder, something you’ve always done to him and watch as the starry night move above you.

“That is beautiful but why are you playing such a sad song?” you ask Renjun after the pretty angel plucks his last string. You cannot lie listening to a sad song in the night alone with Renjun hurts so much. You suddenly remember the small quarrel with your mom and you feel like you have to tell him this.

“Injun-a, do you know that there’s a lot of thing I want to share with you but sometimes I can’t find the right time to say it.” You avert your gaze away from his soft eyes.

“First and foremost, I am sorry that…” your voice trails off but Renjun stays there to listen, “I am sorry I cannot fulfil our promise to leave for Japan together.” You sigh.

It’s a small promise you made with Renjun on your first month of friendship and since then both of you have been working hard to get good grades and prepare the requirements for entering the university.

Renjun did not look surprised, but he is the best man in covering his feelings. Unlike Renjun who can read you like an open book, you cannot read him at all. He just plays with his fingers and after a while looks into your eyes.

“(y/n), I know it’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, besides we can still figure out a way to fulfil this dream of ours.” He calmly threads your hair.

You shake your head, “It won’t happen Renjun, mom looks final with her decision. I am so sorry you have to leave by yourself.”

The young man chuckles dryly, “If you’re not going, then I won’t too.”

You snap at him, “What do you mean? It is your dream too!”

He nods, “It is my dream, and yours too. Our promise is to achieve our dream together right? So if fate decides to leave one of us behind, screw it I’ll stay.”

You can no longer hold back the tears in your eyes, who are you to deserve him? He really is an angel in disguise, always putting your importance first before his.

“Don’t cry, I am not going anywhere if you’re not there.” Was his last promise before he engulfs you into his warm shoulder and hugs you as the last bits of fire flickers in the dark and went out.

It is dark now, with only the moon shining over both of your face. Your glazy eyes met his and without second thoughts, you bring your lips to seal his. When there is no sign of objections you hold it there, letting Renjun takes over instead. One of his arm makes his way to the nape of your neck, gently pressing your head closer to him so he can devour you. So this unexplainable emotions in your hearts can be set free.

It’s not passionate, it’s rushed, full of hurt emotion, and sadness. You feel pain as you try to remember just how soft his lips are, after this you may never see him again. Renjun finally lets go and under the moonlight you can see him wiping away a tear. Your heart cracks, “Injun-ie,” you bring your thumb to wipe his cheek, but he is faster to hold your wrist in the air.

Your face shows surprise, is he rejecting you? He didn’t wipe his tear. Instead, he asks you a question you never expect him to ask.

“Do you ever love me as someone more than a friend?” his sincere question laced with dreadful pain makes you close your eyes.

“I love you to the point that it hurts Renjun,” you reply in a heartbeat.

He  closes his eyes and forces a sad smile, “Can you just once, tell me you love me?”

You want to ask him what he means by once? You’ll tell him over and over! But since you’re an open book to him, he answers you first before you can even gasp

“I know you’re forbidden to love me, I don’t want you to say that to me. It’s a sacred word prin- I mean (y/n). You should only say that to the person you truly love.” He looks down on his feet. Your heart burns when he refuses to even call you by his nickname.

He’s not dumb, he knows how this society of the rich works. It is always them choosing their daughter and son’s partner. He knows your mother doesn’t like him, merely because she never invites him to any of the tea party or dinner. The school knows that your family had made a promise to Jaemin’s family that if their children are of different gender, they will tie the bond. It’s just wonderful how the whole school, including Renjun, knows but not you.

Yes, you and Jaemin both know nothing. Both parents just try to make it look “natural” by sending their children to the same school, put them in the same group of community, and make them see each other as frequent as possible.

You stop crying and look into his eyes, “Renjun, you say I just have to say that word to the man I really love right?”

He nods, he knows he is dumb for saying that. He should’ve just asked you out to be his before you and Jaemin become a thing, but that will just hurt you and him. And having to hurt more is not something Renjun needs right at this moment.

“I love you Renjun,” you whisper sincerely. This may be the only chance you get to say it out loud to him. And the brilliant boy seizes his moment too, “I love you too, princess.”

You and Renjun stay together for a couple of minutes in silence. Because sometimes silence speaks louder, and emotions are conveyed better. You did not know where tomorrow will bring you, but at least you’re not regretting your decision tonight that being telling your true feelings to the person you love.

end.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for the supports 

[catm3imi]

Bangle

Genre : Romance, Fluff, Family Pairing : 707 X MC 

(Warning : Post-Ending, filled with spoiler so read it with your own risk)

You always wear that bangle.

Saeyoung tilt his head away from computer screen when he hear your desperate voice calling his name, asking again if he had seen your particular bangle.

“I didn’t see it, kitten… are you sure you don’t leave in another room?” he sighed.

“I’m sure I still have it when we went to bed, maybe I look again in bathroom or closet” Saeyoung can tell that you trying to keep your composure but your eyes and voice showing how frustrated you are. It hurt him to see you like that.

“Okay, okay, defender of justice 707 ready to help the damsel in distress” your giggle a bit with his attempt to joke. He sure know how to lighten your mood.

“Fine, can you check the bedroom once more? Saeran said he checked at kitchen and living room just in case” Saeyoung brow lift up, shocked that his brother already offer his help before him. He know Saeran warmed up around you but he can’t stop feeling competitive and tad bit jealous.

“Then I can’t afford to lose” he muttered with low voice

“What? You said something?” you didn’t hear that clearly but Saeyoung already walk out from computer room. You take a mental note to ask him later but now your top priority is to find your missing bangle.

Saeyoung pick some clothes from floor then searching in tiny space between every furniture in your shared bedroom. He know how your bangle look because it always at your arm from the first time you ‘accidently’ enter Rika’s apartment and joined RFA. He notice you wore it for a long time when he saw your pictures from background check but he never questioned why you treasure it until now, when you searching desperately and almost crying in panic.

“Saeran, did you find it?” your voice ringing in the hallway along with Saeran nonchalant voice, Saeyoung throw out cover from bed to move it a bit when he heard metallic sound on floor. He leap to the sound and find plain thin silver bangle under the cover.

“Babe, I found it” you practically run when hear Saeyoung voice in bedroom, he stand in the middle of bedroom with your bangle in his hand, smirking victoriously. You hinted slight of mischief in his smile when he not handing you the bangle right away.

“Not so fast, darling, you have to give me a reward first” he raise his hand, take the bangle out of your reach.

“What? Saeyoung!” you pouted, jumping in front him. Saeran let out grumble in front door, ready to leave but Saeyoung question stop his track.

“Why it’s so important to you?” you stop moving, surprise with his question but you can tell that he sincerely want to know, even you notice a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“It’s from your former lover? Or your crush? Or…” He trailed off, imagining the worst from his anxiety. You snort a laughter.

“No, it’s not like that. Well… the story is bit long” you smile nostalgically, you not intend to keep it as secret but you not see the point to tell until now. You can feel Saeran also curious, he might act nonchalantly but attentive enough to see how you treasured the bangle.

“You both already meet my parents and seen my family house, so you know how… ordinary and reserve they are even not the most conservative one” Saeyoung visit your family not long after propose you in front RFA member, dragging Saeran in the process because your family request to meet your spouse’s family member.

“Well, we never rich in the first place but after my father business failed, we struggled to put food in our plate and paying education tuition. I was in middle school, as the oldest of my three siblings, I must ready to quit if I had to and find a job. There’s a time that I had to begging at pawn shop for extra money from anything valuable” Saeyoung reach for your face as you laugh bitterly, brush several strand of your hair at your ear but not saying anything. You leaned at his hand.

“Long story short, as a child, sometimes I wish to have more but I can’t act spoiled until one day we go out for shopping. There’s a little store that sell many accessory and jewelry, I always admire them but never said anything to my parents. On that particular day I let my eyes wander to that store again but suddenly my mother ask me which one I like. I was so surprise then pick those bangle and my father already pay for it before I put those on. Since then, I always wearing it to remind me how much I be loved by my parents, especially when things getting hard” you continue with smile in your lips then startled when Saeyoung pulling your body into his, embrace you tightly while Saeran pat your head beside his brother, copying when you pat his head to comfort him.

“I- Sorry… I have no idea” Saeyoung feel horrible asking you but at the same time he finally understood why you always strong and kind, you nuzzle your cheek to his shoulder

“It’s not like I want to keep it a secret but thank you both of you” you flash a smile to Saeran to tell that you appreciated his kindness then pressing your lips lightly at Saeyoung cheek. You can see a tinge of red in Saeran cheek.

“uh, yeah, no problem, now I’m out here” he stammer a bit before walk out in haste, hiding his shyness. Saeyoung watch his brother go from the corner of his eyes without release his arm around you, his left hand rest on your waist while the other hand slip the bangle to your arm.  

“MC, I promise you that I bring you happiness, loving you with all my heart and soul. Treasure you as much as your parents do, no, even more…” he kiss your hand with sweet and longing kiss, you can’t help to giggle

“No need to because I already love you most silly”

“That’s debatable” you pouted, Saeyoung laugh a bit before land a passionate but sloppy kiss to you lips

“I love you, MC, You’re my world” Saeyoung whisper to you between kisses, he want to say more and mean every word of it. His eyes look you with wonder, adoration and loves which you accept with all your being. A/N: I wrote this long time ago but never posted it... those bangle story is inspired on my own experience but with little twist ;) I hope you enjoy it and forgive any grammatical error on my side. 

[airis-paris14]

Starlight (T. Udaku)

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who's spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T'Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey y’all. I know I’ve been absent for a little bit again. This story was on the top of my update list and Dress Up is next now that I’ve finished the update. Now I’ve only posted this story on Wattpad, and since the update really only helps them, I thought I get in my weekly update by posting this story from the beginning. I hope you all enjoy as much as my other stories. As always let me know if you wanna be on the tag list. I’ll be posting an account update soon with some news about stories and the Master list. Have a beautiful day guys.

2 || 

Amani watched from the doorway as her baby sister packed up her suitcase. "You know you don't have to watch me pack. I'm a big girl." Amare Okeke looked up smiling. Amani walked over to help her zip the suitcase. "You're barely old enough to fly alone baby girl."

"Amani I'm 17."

"I know. I know. My baby girl is all grown up." Amani pulled Amare into a tight hug. "Maybe I should just keep you here this semester."

"Amani....."

I know, I know. Massachusetts Institute of Technology is paying your tuition, so I guess I gotta put you on that plane."

Amare chuckled. "I think they'd miss me too much if you didn't."

Amani scooped the younger girl into a hug. "Just be safe kid. Don't talk to strangers and no joining the mile high club."

Amare groaned and shuddered. "Okay, it's definitely time for you to go, don't wanna be late for work."

Amani laughed, "Be safe okay. Come back to me in one piece."

"I promise, scouts honor," Amare raised three fingers as she pushed her older sister out of the door. "Just one more hug," Amani begged. Amare shook her head, and shoved the car keys in her sister's hand. "Out," she pointed to the 23-year-old. Amani ran in for one last hug before hopping in her car. She waved three times more before pulling out of the drive and into the city traffic. Her Lexus weaved in and out of traffic as she headed to her day job. The Lotus was more of a pass time than an actual job. It paid a decent amount, and she got to work with her friends.

Twenty minutes later Amani pulled into The Lotus's back parking lot. She gathered all of her things and headed in to help work the closing shift. She scanned her key card and pushed open the heavy security door. The kitchen staff seemed to be winding down from the dinner rush. It was only seven and most of the tables had been served and were waiting to pay. Amani dropped her things in the break room before heading out to help the other waitresses.

" Well look what the cat dragged in." A petite woman teased from behind the bar. "Hello to you too Sakura."

"Hey, Mani! Can you cover this last table for me while I set up for tomorrow?" Madiyson asked as she nodded at a man and a little girl who walked into the restaurant.

"I just got here! What about 'Kura? She's here too."

Sakura glared at Amani from behind her magazine. "It would really mean the world to me if you could do it, Amani..." Madiyson puppy dog eyed her.

"Fine," Amani sighed, fixing her thick curls. They both stared at her arranging her twist out.

"What he is cute!" The black woman blushed grabbing a kid's menu and a menu."He has a daughter." Kura pointed out. Amani walked over to the sink to wash her hands, grabbed the nearest dish towel, and leaned again the counter to check her teeth in the mirror.

"But I don't see a ring," Madiyson pointed out as she grabbed a fresh washcloth. She winked before she hurried away to wipe down tables. Sakura laughed and turned back to her magazine.

Amani hastily checked her reflection once more before walking out onto the main floor. The little girl waved as the woman approached the podium."Hi! Welcome to The Lotus. Just you two tonight?" The man nodded. "If you'll follow me then." The small group walked to a booth. Amani fished into her small apron and took out a notepad. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'll have water," he smiled at the young woman. His voice and that smile practically melted Amani right then and there. The young woman pulled herself together to write down his order.

"Ada did you want anything?" he asked the little girl across the table from him.

"Do you have strawberry lemonade?" She asked in a sweet voice.

"No, but I may have something just as good. If you don't like it I'll bring you something else. How does that sound?"

The little girl grinned and nodded her head.

"I'll let you look over the menu while I get your drinks."

As the waitress walked off she heard the little girl whisper to her father. "Baba she's pretty!" Amani blushed and rushed over to the bar, desperate to hide the growing flush of her face. As she mixed the little girl's drink at the bar Madiyson and Sakura began drying cups beside her.

"So who's the beautiful stranger?" Sakura was the first one to speak nudging Amani on the side. "That's what we're calling him?" Madiyson rolled her eyes. Amani laughed as she felt Madiyson nudge her other shoulder. "He's watching you," she whispered. The sister looked up quickly at the man and his daughter before grabbing napkins and straws.

"His voice, god it's sexy. He has an accent though. It sounds dark and a little  controlling, but warm at the same time." Amani hastily revealed as she worked to keep her hands busy. Madiyson grinned "Oooh! You like him!"

Sakura face-palmed as guests looked up at the commotion."Keep your voice down," Amani hissed as she grabbed the drinks. "I just think he's cute. Besides he may not even be single. There's no way I'm that lucky," She blushed as she walked towards the bar exit. "You won't be getting lucky either if Madiyson keeps yelling stuff like that out loud," Sakura grinned as Madiyson slapped her on her shoulder.

Amani shook her head and walked out to the table. She set the drinks down in front of the little girl and her father. The young waitress gestured toward the drink as the little girl took a sip. Her face lit up and she smiled before drinking some more. "I'm guessing you like it," she smiled at the little girl before noticing the father smile at her. Amani's face churned up the color of a bouquet of roses. "Anybody ready to order?" Amani asked taking out her notepad.

"Yes, I'll have the filet mignon with green beans and mashed potatoes." He closed his menu and smiled at her."Rare, Medium Rare, or well done?" The young woman looked up expectantly, instantly regretting meeting his eyes. Her knees went weak."Well done please." He folded his arms on the table.

Amani smiled before looking at the little girl, "what is a Mac and cheese?" Ada asked politely."You've never had Mac and cheese?" The young woman exclaimed feigning shock. "Oh my goodness, it's this really creamy bowl of amazingness. You wanna know what I eat mine with?" The little girl giggled nodding. Amani leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I eat mine with Chicken tenders."

The little girl nodded."Good choice, I'll have mine with chicken tenders too then." The brown woman smiled at the girl before writing it down."Fabulous choice princess," Amani smiled as the little girl giggled before her mouth dropped open. "How'd you know I was a Princess?" The man shook his head at the little girl. She went quiet.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I got her in trouble." Amani apologized.

"No, no she's not in trouble. I am T'Challa and this is my princess Ada." At the mention of her name the little girl grinned. "It's nice to meet you both, Amani." She smiled at them both. "I'll have your food out shortly."

The young waitress walked back to the kitchen, handed her ticket in for her table and wrote for herself for a to-go meal."Find anything else out?" Sakura asked as she walked in handing over a ticket. "His name is T'Challa. And he's got money." The woman looked up. "How'd you find out he had money?"

"He ordered Filet Mignon. How many people in this area order filet mignon?" Amani said as she grabbed the plates from the window. "Besides us, and that's only when Mrs. Ella needs to get rid of it."

"Businessmen mostly, we just never give you the big ballers," Madiyson smirks as she drops off her ticket."Are you serious?" Sakura nodded. Amani rolled her eyes, "I'm feeling the love," she sassed as she headed back into the dining room.

"Aww don't be mad Mani!" Madiyson called as Sakura cackled. The young woman huffed as she carried the food out to her table.

"Baba, I want to go somewhere fun tomorrow!" The little girl insisted as her father laughed. "You did not enjoy the Museum?" His eyes twinkled as she huffed. Amani chuckled silently as she set the plate down in front of Ada. "Maybe your Mac and cheese will make you feel better," Amani suggested as she handed T'Challa his steak. "If you don't mind me asking, what Museum did you go to?" He smiled, clearly glad someone was interested.

"We went to the High Museum of Art," Amani had to stifle her laughter at his reply.

"Princess Ada, how old are you?" Amani asked as the laughter threatened to pour out of her. "Four," The little girl proudly displayed four fingers.

She could hold back no longer. A full-bellied laugh rolled out of her.

"What?" T'Challa protested as Ada began to giggle too. He sighed as he waited for the two females to stop laughing. "I'm sorry, but you took a four-year-old to the High?" She smiled as she tucked the serving tray under her right arm."There was an exhibit of children's illustrators." He defended himself."But baba," The little girl interjected, "we don't live here I've never read any of those books."

Amani smiled. "Maybe you should try the aquarium, it's one of the best in the country.  There's also this really big Ferris wheel Princess," the little girl's face lit up as she chewed up her chicken tender."Chew with your mouth closed Ada," her father gently reminded smiling at his daughter.

"I'll let you guys eat and be back soon."

The young woman couldn't keep the goofy smile off of her face as she helped refill salt and pepper shakers as Madiyson refilled condiments. "So is he feeling it? Is there a wedding I should start planning."

"No Madiyson you won't be planning  anything." Amani grinned as she put the salt back in the closet. "And I don't know, you don't usually go up to a stranger and say 'Hi, I'm single. Are you single?"

"Well don't ask him like that," Madiyson scoffed as she replaced the top on a ketchup bottle. "I see why you're still single," she laughed. Amani whirled around and threw some salt from the counter at her. "Haha, very funny."  Amani looked out the window to see T'Challa raise his hand.

"I'll be right back," the waitress walked over to the table. "We need a check?" T'Challa nodded as Ada finished the last of her Mac and Cheese. "That Mac and cheese treat you right?" Amina smiled as Ada grinned. "Yes ma'am," she replied.

"Baba, can we get ice cream?" Ada begged as Amani gathered the dirty plates. "Not tonight Ada, maybe tomorrow, entle."

"Oh if you go to the aquarium there's a really good ice cream shop downtown." Amani smiled."Then it's settled we'll get ice cream tomorrow Baba," The young princess declared. T'Challa smiled at his daughter. "Your wish is my command princess."

"Cash or credit?" Amani asked as she stood with the dirty plates. "Cash," T'Challa called. His eyes caused the waitress's heart to flutter. She offered an award-winning smile and nodded. "I'll be right back." Amani walked back into the kitchen dumping the dishes into the sink."Girl don't break no dishes," an older woman yelled from the back. "Sorry Mrs. Ella!" Amani grimaced as she began printing a check.

"Find out anything else?" Sakura asked as she began loading the dishwasher. "He's a total pushover for his daughter." Amina smiled placing the check in a black holder.

When she walked out to the table it was completely empty. Save for a note and some bills underneath his glass.

Sorry I could not say goodbye. Here is some money for the check. Ada says goodbye as well and thank you for the Mac and cheese and being so pretty. I would be delighted if you would consider accompanying us tomorrow around the city.

T'Challa

His number scrawled at the bottom of the note sent fireworks straight to her eyes. Amani lifted the glass to find two hundred dollar bills. She smiled fondly before tucking the note in her back pocket. She quickly finished the tab and grabbed her order from the window.  She helped the rest of the staff to mop, sweep, stack chairs, clean dishes, put away dishes. As soon as the restaurant was locked up she waved goodbye to Mrs.Ella in the back and proceeded to hop and skip back to her car and speed home. Amani pulled up to her condo in the city her parents had given her before they passed. The young woman pulled off her shoes and walked up to the front steps. She placed her hand on the doorbell and let it scan her finger before opening the door. The off duty waitress placed her food in the microwave and blasted a Kendrick album before plopping onto the couch. She glanced at the clock before pulling out her phone. She quickly typed in T'Challa's number and typed a message.

Amani: Is this T'Challa? It's Amani, from The Lotus.

T'Challa: yes this is T'Challa. I'm so glad you texted me. I'm sorry to bother you but Ada would not stop talking about you. She would really like it if you could join us tomorrow.

Amani: just Ada?

T'Challa: We would both enjoy your company tomorrow.

Amani: Then I'd be delighted. What time?

T'Challa: 9:30 a.m. we do not wish to hold the masses back for long periods of time. We will pick you up.

The woman typed a quick goodnight. She made a point to text her little sister before grabbing her food and settling down with the music. The ping of her phone startled her. Licking her fingers she checked the clock and headed into the kitchen to grab her phone.

Amare: don't forget you promised to attend that after-party tonight. With mom and dad's work partners.

"Frick," Amani yelped hopping off of the couch. She was beyond late. She grabbed her phone and ran into her bedroom. A gown was hanging over her closet door. She grinned, knowing that Amare had left it there before she left. She took a quick shower, tried to refresh her hair, threw on some light makeup, and pulled on the dress. Texting a quick thank you to her sister, she searched for the invite email once again and decided her car would be faster than an Uber. Luckily the venue was downtown. Amani drove as fast as the floor-length gown and heels would let her. She skidded into the valet drive-in, tossed the young man her keys, took a deep breath, and glided her way into the lobby.

Once in the elevator she touched up her makeup, fluffed the braided twist out bun, and sighed. The doors dinged open and she glided into the ballroom. Immediately she was surrounded by her parent's former employees. She smiled, shook hands, took some press pictures, made a couple of statements to reporters, before taking refuge in the corner. The part-time waitress grabbed a flute of champagne to sip as she perused. One of her dad's partners smiled and moved in her direction. Mentally preparing for the longest conversation of her life, Amani took a long gulp of champagne. "Long time no see!" Harold Armon smiled. "Hello Mr. Armon," Amani rolled her shoulders back and plastered on a smile.

"How are you, dear girl? How is your little sister? Amira?" He reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Amare," the older sister corrected. "Right, right!" Harold beamed, squeezing the young woman's shoulder. Amani shrugged his hand off. "She's fine. She left this morning to finish off her second semester at MIT."

"That's brilliant, she always was bright like your father. Is she thinking about running the company when she comes of age?" he pried. Amani frowned, "No. Our parents always wanted us to choose our own route in life. She decided that she didn't want to run the business."

"That is too bad. I could have been a great help. You all could have relied on me to take over the business. Then you wouldn't have to worry your pretty little head about all the men's work-" Amani zoned out as the man tried to persuade her to appoint him to a top position. She already knew his game. These conversations were why she hated coming to the parties. 

When her parents had died unexpectedly, Amani and Amare had been thrown into the world of office politics. As soon as the plane crashed in that Pennsylvania field, her phone was flooded with calls. Her father's lawyers advised her not to talk to anyone until she and Amare were together. They brought, the then 15-year-old, Amare out of school and down to Atlanta. Within a matter of hours, Amani had to decide who would take over the company in her parent's absence. She promoted her father's CFO, and her mother's assistant. She made sure that she put money away for her and Amare to live on. Then she handed the company over, operationally at least. She and Amare were still obligated to show their faces, and be present at board meetings. They weren't required to vote, but when they did, their word was law. Hence the groveling, and somewhat misogynistic, man standing in front of her.

She nodded along, taking to chance to glance at her side, where she saw T'Challa. His suit immaculately pressed and tailored. A ring flashed on his left hand and Amani felt her heart drop slightly. She blushed when he looked up and noticed her staring, she waved before tuning back into Harold.

"Brookman's first-quarter report does not look like it will be that promising. I think that if I were in that position I would avoid this merger with Wakanda and their king-" The man faltered, and tripped over his words. His eyes going wide at something behind her. Turning to look Amani saw T'Challa walking towards them. She returned his smile when he moved to greet her. "Amani."

"T'Challa-"

"Your highness." Harold quickly dropped into a stiff bow. "There's no need for that. Mr.-" T'Challa laughed.

"Armon" Harold stuck out a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Armon," T'Challa placed his hands behind his back, forcing his posture upright. Harold brought his own hand back into his side. "Do you mind if I borrow your conversation partner?"

"Oh well, we were-"

"I will make sure you get to see her before the night is over," T'Challa gripped Amani's hand and pulled her away. She gave Mr.Bowdman a quick goodbye before falling into step with T'Challa. "Thank you," Amani laughed while strolling with the man.

"I can always sense a damsel in distress."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. It's my superpower," the businessman whispered. Amani chuckled as she wrapped her arm through his. "Though I am surprised to see my waitress here. At the Okeke Tech Industries donor party."

"Are you suggesting that I cannot contribute based on my meager salary?"

T'Challa raised his hands in defeat, "I am merely suggesting that there is something you are not telling me, Amani." The undiscovered royal laughed.

"I believe that Ms.Okeke would be more formal T'Challa."

"Ah, you are the mysterious, and rumored to be beautiful, Okeke heiress.

"I wonder which of those intrigues you more. Beautiful or mysterious?" she teased.

"I quite prefer mysteries. Your beauty is just a bonus." The two smiled at each other. "It is nice to formally meet you, Ms. Okeke."

"What are you doing here?" Amani asked, grabbing a flute of champagne from the passing waiter. "I am here to check on my future assets. Make sure everything runs right."

"You're the one buying my parent's company?"

T'Challa winked, grabbing the flute of champagne from Amani and taking a sip. The woman blushed as he handed it back. "I was never told who the buyer was," Amani added, taking another sip from the same place on the glass. "His Majesty King T'Challa Udaku, at your service Ms. Okeke," the king bowed to kiss her hand. Amani choked a little, as the news slammed into her. "King?"

"Yes, please do try to keep up Ms.Okeke," The king chuckled while he grabbed a flute of champagne for himself. He extended his arm once more for the heiress and they continued to stroll about the room, eventually ending up on the balcony. They sat next to each other on a stone bench, each admiring the night sky. "You look beautiful tonight," T'Challa turned, staring at Amani's profile. "I've always been told starlight is my best light," Amani teased, blushing once her eyes met T'Challa's. She grabbed the king's cup and took a long drink.

The sounds of the party wrapping up brought both of them out of their isolated dream world. "May I walk you to your car?" T'Challa extended a hand to help Amani up and off of the bench. "If you would like," Amani smiled. The two walked side-by-side, bypassing anyone who wanted their attention. "Are we still on for tomorrow?" Amani broke the silence.

"Of course. I await our reunion with earnest."

"I guess I should text you my address then."

"I guess you should."

Amani pulled out her phone and quickly sent a text with her information. Placing her phone back in her purse, she looked up at the king. The valet pulled up with her car and she let her smile falter. "I guess I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll see you in the morning, Ms. Okeke." T'Challa smiled, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. She got into the car and sighed as it pulled away from the curb.

Taglist: @sarahboseman @waitingonafriend-blog @thiccdaddy-mbaku @sarcastic-sunshines @ororowrites @derangedcupcake @mzbritt @leahnicole1219 @dramaqueeenamby @marvelheaux @skysynclair19 @halfrican-heat @kaciidubs @queertrex @kumkaniudaku @purple-apricots @autumn242 @thedelightfulone @90sinspiredgirl @royallyprincesslilly @wikiwakanda a @chaneajoyyy @sisterwifeudaku @sarahboseman @tchoking @sarcastic-sunshines​ @almostpurelysmut

[trashcanreddiefan]

The 2nd Annual Losers' Club Christmakkah Celebration

Summary: The Losers gather for their second annual Christmakkah celebration, and there is a special gift under the tree with Richie’s name on it.

Word Count: 2800-ish

Warnings: None whatsoever. This is pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Post-Chapter 2. All of the Losers are alive in this fic, including Stan, because canon can suck it. 2nd in a (at least) 3-part series where the Losers take turns hosting Christmakkah. Part 1 here.

CROSS-POSTED AT AO3.

“I checked in for our flight to Atlanta,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen where his boyfriend, Eddie, was currently leaning down and peeking in on something that was baking in their oven. He wrapped his arms around Eddie. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

“I’m making a lasagna,” Eddie replied, straightening up and turning to greet Richie.

Richie planted a kiss on the top of his head before nuzzling his neck. “I meant you, babe.” He gently grazed Eddie’s pulse point with his teeth before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Taste even better.”

Eddie shivered, then leaned back with a smile. He tilted his head up for a proper kiss. “Hi.”

“Mmm. Hey yourself. How was your thesis presentation?”

“Good, really good. Dr. Cubillas seemed really happy with my research and asked me if I’d be interested in a TA position once I start the Master’s program next semester.”

Richie grinned. “Eds, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks, Rich. I know my savings won’t last forever, so I’m glad I was able to get this 2nd Bachelor’s so quickly and it’d be good if I could make some extra money working for the university while pursuing my Master’s. Plus then I wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in student loan debt after I graduate since my tuition would be covered.”

“Eds, I told you, if you need money I’ll give it to you, however much you need. I’d have zero problem with being your sugar daddy.”

Before Eddie could even protest, he added, “but I know how much your financial independence means to you, so just know the offer stands. I love you and I’m willing to support you in whatever way you need, be it financial, emotional, physical…” he trailed off as his hands slid down to palm Eddie’s ass, giving both cheeks a hearty squeeze.

Eddie shook his head fondly. “I love you too, Richie. And thank you.” They stood there in silence for a bit, just enjoying being in each other’s arms.

Richie could hardly believe that this was his life. Less than a year ago he had thought that he would be destined to be in lifelong (not counting the 27-year-long asshole clown-induced amnesia) unrequited love with his married, straight childhood best friend. But during the Losers’ first Christmakkah celebration, Eddie had not only announced to the Losers that he had divorced his wife and quit his job, but he had also told Richie privately that he was moving to Los Angeles to go to nursing school, and – the best news of all –  that he was in love with Richie.

So now, a year later, Richie stood in his kitchen with the love of his life in his arms, getting ready to fly out to Stan’s house for their 2nd annual Losers’ Christmakkah Celebration.

Finally, Eddie reluctantly extracted himself from Richie’s embrace. “I need to get the lasagna out.”

“Ok, babe. I’m gonna go shower before dinner.” Richie gave Eddie one last kiss before heading to their bedroom.

He had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself when Eddie called out, “Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?” Richie replied, walking into their bedroom from the connecting bathroom.

Eddie stood by their bed. “The teddy bear you ordered for Olivia just came in.”

Olivia was Stan and Patty’s 3-month-old daughter and the first of a new generation of Losers. She had Stan’s curly hair and Patty’s nose, and already had her uncles and aunt wrapped around her finger.

“Ok great, thanks.” Richie walked over to Eddie and wrapped his arms around him.

“I already got it in a bag and put it in the suitcase with the rest of Liv’s gifts.”

“Ok so that should be it, right? I have Bill’s gift in my suitcase and you said you had Mike’s gift shipped directly to Stan’s, right?”

This year, instead of deciding not to exchange gifts (since last year they tried that and everyone wound up bringing presents regardless) the Losers had decided to do a “holiday gift exchange” where each Loser was randomly assigned one of the others’ names and bought that person a gift.

Richie had been assigned Bill, and in true Richie fashion had bought him a copy of Save the Cat Writes a Novel as a gag gift. (He had also bought him a first edition copy of Dracula as his actual gift; Richie was a bit of a prankster, but he wasn’t a complete asshole.)

Eddie glanced over at his suitcase. “Yeah, just so it’s less that we have to carry. You’re all packed then?”

Richie quirked an eyebrow and bit back a grin. “Well no, that’s what I have you for.”

“Wait a minute, you mean our flight leaves in less than 15 hours and you’re not packed yet?” Eddie’s voice went up in pitch with each word.

Richie couldn’t keep a straight face. “Eds, babe, I’m kidding, calm down. I packed a couple of days ago according to the list you gave me. Even folded my shirts and everything.”

“That was so not funny.”  Eddie glowered at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Mmm, true,” Richie said sincerely, pulling Eddie even closer and tucking his head into Eddie’s neck. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive.”

He could feel the residual tension leave Eddie’s body. “Now, I take it that dinner’s ready, and not only that but we have an early flight to catch, so let’s eat and get ready for bed.”

____________________________________________________________

“…This is your captain speaking. I’d like to personally welcome you to Atlanta, Georgia.The time is 2:40 pm and the temperature is 61 degrees. On behalf of all of us, thank you for flying Delta.”

Richie pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Stan as soon as he and Eddie deplaned. Eds and I just landed. On our way as soon as we get our luggage.

Stan the Man: Ben & Bev and Mike are already here and I think Bill & Audra’s flight should be arriving in about an hour and a half.

Stan the Man: Eddie has our address. See you guys soon.

Richie put his phone away as he & Eddie made their way to baggage claim to collect their luggage, and soon they were on their way to Stan and Patty’s house.

Upon arriving they hauled their suitcases up Stan’s porch steps and rang the doorbell.

Stan answered the door. “Hey, guys. So glad you could make it.”

“Staniel! How’s it going?” Richie gave Stan a quick hug before turning to Patty, who was holding Olivia. “Patty, looking beautiful, as always. And how’s my favorite niece?” he cooed at Olivia.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Beverly said jokingly as she entered the room, rubbing her growing stomach. “As I’m sure do Bill and Audra.”

Richie gave her a peck on the cheek. “Well, considering both you and Audra are having boys, Liv will continue to be my favorite niece. But don’t worry, whoever gets named after me will get the title of favorite nephew.”

“Well too bad for you then, huh?” Bev laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows that Uncle Richie will spoil Little Benson and Wilson just as much as I spoil Olivia.”

“I’m sure you will,” Eddie said coming up from behind him and giving Beverly a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. “Bev, how have you been feeling?”

“Just fine,” Beverly answered. “Baby’s doing great.”

“So where’s that gorgeous husband of yours?” Richie asked.

Beverly grinned. “You know how he & Mike are when they get together. They’re looking at pictures from Mike’s trip to New Orleans last month. Appreciating the architecture.”

Richie snorted. “Nerds.”

“Let me show you guys to your room,” Stan said. “I know you both probably want to take a nap and a shower before the festivities tonight.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but a nap does sound wonderful,” Beverly added. “I’m still a bit jet-lagged.”

Stan led them to one of the spare bedrooms with its own private bathroom. “We’re planning on dinner at six, so you guys can come down at any time.”

“Oh, hey, what are we doing with the gifts?” Richie asked. “We have some for Olivia and I have my exchange gift.”

“I think we’re putting them by the Christmakkah tree,” Stan said. “Thanks for the menorah ornaments, by the way.”

Richie grinned. “I couldn’t pass them up.”

Eddie grabbed the suitcase with the gifts before Richie could get to it. “Here, Rich, why don’t you go ahead and rest and I’ll go put the gifts under the tree? I’ll be right back.”

Before Richie could answer Eddie was carefully wheeling the suitcase back downstairs.

Richie shook his head fondly. That’s my Eddie.  

As much as Eddie had changed over the past 27 years, at his core he was still Eddie.  He was still the same neurotic, foul-mouthed, caring little shit that Richie had fallen in love with all those years ago.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

The thought shouldn’t have surprised Richie – after all, he had had the same thought once before when they were teenagers – but now, now, he could; that is, if Eddie would have him. Does Eddie even want to get married again?

Although they were 100% committed to each other, marriage wasn’t exactly something they had talked about.

Still, Richie let his mind wander, thinking about going out and buying a ring, planning the perfect proposal (maybe the day Eddie got his Master’s degree? Richie wasn’t sure he could wait any longer than that), sliding the ring onto Eddie’s finger…

He was still thinking when Eddie came back into the room. “Okay, Olivia’s gifts are all set out, and we really should’ve gotten something for Ben & Bev and Bill & Audra’s kids, maybe each like a onesie or something.”

He walked over to Richie and lay down next to him on the bed, noticing the obviously sappy look on Richie’s face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Marry me, Richie thought, but instead said, “God, I love you.”

Eddie’s face instantly softened. “I love you too.”

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” Richie continued. “I know the past year hasn’t been easy but you’ve kicked ass and managed to get your nursing degree in 3 semesters–”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, only because all the anatomy and health classes I took the first time I was in college managed to transfer once I tested out of them, not to mention the fact that I took the max number of hours each semester and also took summer classes while you were on tour instead of going with you.”

“And not only that, but you received your degree with a 4.0 and was offered a TA position when you start the graduate program next semester.” Richie scooted closer and rolled his hips into Eddie’s. “Mmm, just thinking about playing nurse with my brilliant boyfriend is getting me all hot. Can’t wait to call you ‘Nurse Kaspbrak’ in bed.”

Eddie’s face contorted in an adorable combination of rage and laughter. “You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

Richie laughed. “No but really, I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds and I’m honored to be along for the ride.”

“Thank you, Rich. I’m glad you’re part of it too.” Eddie gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. “Now rest, we’ve got an exciting night ahead.”

__________________________________________________________

After a few hours’ nap Richie woke up to an empty bed but could hear the shower running.

He contemplated drifting back off to sleep when he heard the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. “Rich? You awake? It’s 5:15.”

Richie stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair, grabbing for his glasses as he sat up. “Yeah, babe, I’m up.”

Eddie gave him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna get dressed and head downstairs to see if Stan and Patty need help with anything while you’re in the shower. Meet you down there?”

Richie nodded, then slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed in the outfit Eddie had laid out on the bed for him – a soft lime green cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans – and headed down the stairs, where he rounded the corner to see all the Losers together.

He greeted Ben and Mike, then Bill and Audra, placing a gentle hand on Audra’s stomach when she asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kick.

He turned when he heard the click of a camera and looked up to see Eddie putting his phone away. “Blackmail photos?” he said jokingly. “Come on, Eds, all you have to do is ask in order to get me in more compromising positions.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gotta document you being cute since it happens so rarely.”

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for their gift exchange. Richie took a sleeping Olivia while Stan and Patty opened her gifts.

The Losers gifted her with various toys, clothes (“I’m thinking about starting a children’s clothing line,” Beverly explained when Patty pulled a beautiful hand-stitched dress out of a gift bag), and other necessities for a baby.

Richie looked down when Olivia stirred and blinked her eyes open. “Well hello, princess,” Richie cooed. “You decided to wake up for Uncle Richie?”

He grinned as Olivia smiled at him. “Aww look, Eds, she’s smiling at me! Yes, you think Uncle Richie is funny, don’t you?”

“She’d be the only one,” Stan said dryly as he took her in order to change her now that she was awake.

“Hey, I will have you know that all of my jokes are now Eddie-approved,” Richie replied.

Eddie shrugged. “What can I say, his stand-up has improved since firing his writer.”

Once Stan had come back and set Olivia in her bassinet, it was time for the adults to exchange gifts.

Once Bill, Audra, Ben, Bev, Mike, and Patty (who had Patty, Ben, Eddie, Audra, Stan, and Bev, respectively) all had gone, Stan stood. “I had Mike,” he announced, before handing Mike his gift.

Richie glanced over at Eddie, who was studying the hem of his sweater as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He opened his mouth to say something to Eddie when Stan interrupted. “Rich, you want to go next?”

Richie glanced to where 7 pairs of eyes were staring at him. “Uh, yeah, ok.”

He stood and handed Bill’s gift to him. “Merry Christmakkah, man.”

Bill laughed at the copy of Save the Cat. “I figure it’ll help you learn how to write an ending,” Richie joked.

“Thanks, Richie. This is so great.”

Richie sat back down on the sofa and Stan turned to Eddie. “Eddie, it’s your turn.”

Eddie went to the tree and grabbed a wrapped present. “I really did have it shipped here so you wouldn’t be nosing in the closets trying to find it.”

Richie ripped open the wrapping paper. “Eds, baby, this is fantastic! Thank you so much.” Eddie had bought him a new Bluetooth-enabled, all-in-one record player.

“There’s um, there’s something else, too,” Eddie said, heading back to the tree.

Richie watched as Stan and Eddie seemed to have a silent conversation before Eddie nodded, picking up a small, light blue gift bag. He silently handed it to Richie.

“Aww, thanks, babe.”

Richie untied the white ribbon that was keeping the bag shut, stuck his hand inside…

… And pulled out a note.

“Uh, Eds, baby, it’s customary to give the gag gift BEFORE giving the real gift,” he said jokingly.

“Just read it,” Eddie replied. He seemed nervous.

Richie unfolded the note. In Eddie’s neat handwriting were 5 words:

Richie, will you marry me?

What. He looked up and froze.

Eddie was down on one knee in front of him, a platinum ring in his hands.

Richie blinked. “Eds?”

Eddie took a deep breath. “Richie, exactly one year ago we took one of the biggest leaps of our lives together.  Will you take another with me tonight and make me the happiest man alive?”

Richie’s eyes filled with tears. “Fuck yes,” he said, then pulled Eddie to him for a kiss.

Cheers and congratulations filled his ears.

Eddie slid the ring onto his finger. “I love you so much,” he whispered against Richie’s lips.

“I love you too.”

In the meantime, Stan and Patty had grabbed a bottle of champagne (sparkling grape juice for Bev and Audra) and had poured everyone a glass. “A toast!” Stan declared. “To Eddie and Richie: May you be friends to each other as only lovers can; and may you love each other as only best friends can. Mazel tov!”

“Mazel tov!” everyone else echoed as they raised their glasses.

Richie looked around at his friends – no, his family – as they all took a sip of their drinks, then down at Eddie, who was looking up at him with the same love and admiration that Richie himself felt for Eddie.

“Merry Christmakkah, Rich,” Eddie said softly.

“Merry Christmakkah, Eds,” he whispered before leaning down and connecting his lips to his fiance’s.

[gyeomork]

Change

(mark tuan x reader)

genre: fluff, smut, angst, soulmate! au

warnings: sexual content, cursing

word count: 6k

a/n: i got sooooo carried away with this one but the way mark was really looking tasty in the concert i just- anyway his new tattoo ugh i guess that kinda inspired me. mark is my second bias so i really had fun with this. i wrote actual smut this time so sorry/ you’re welcome (depending on what you like or dislike). anywHo i’ll go. enjoy ^3^

ever since we were children, mark and i were very close because of our parents. our moms were there for each other all through high school and college and marriage and labor. so i guess mark and i were kind of bound to become best friends. and we did. and all through middle school we kept trying to find each other’s soulmates. we were obsessed with the tattoos on our wrists; mark has a small heart and i have a rose. everyone was born with some sort of item on their wrist and according to my parents, when they turn 20 the tattoo will glow when they’re near their soulmate. when we entered high school, we decided to give it a rest and that we’ll find them when the time is right. up until high school, mark and i stayed below the radar; only hanging out with each other and not talking to anyone else really. but once high school hit we made two different friend groups. we didn’t drift apart, we still hung out but not as much as before. then mark joined the basketball team and it became a whole different story. he barely had any time for me anymore because he was always with ‘the guys’. between freshman and senior year we probably only hung out once a month and that was because our parents wanted to see each other.

during junior year i got a boyfriend and it was the first time i was ever in a relationship, i was willing to do anything to make him happy. we didn’t show each other our tattoos because we wanted to have a relationship without the pressure of being each other’s soulmates on us. we were a month or two in the relationship when he asked me for nudes. i was hesitant at first but i sent him some under the pressure of my so called ‘friends’. the next day at school everyone stared at me with wide eyes as i walked down the hallway. i made it to my boyfriend and asked him what was with everyone today. he said to me ‘maybe you should keep your goodies to yourself and then they’d stop staring’. i soon found out that he took my nudes and posted them all over my social media because i trusted him enough to give him my password. mark runs up to me and embraces me and curses out my now ex-boyfriend. he walks me out of school as everyone was laughing at the scene. he drives me to his house and comforts me with my favorite ice cream and cheesy rom-coms for the rest of the day. that was the closest i felt to him in the past 3 years.

we started hanging out like we used to again and everything was great. until senior year started. he was back to hanging out with ‘the guys’ and me with my group. we still saw each other often enough for me to ask him to come over and watch one of our favorite shows together, ‘stranger things’. but when i asked him he was with ‘the guys’ and i guess he wanted to show off or make himself seem cool. he said to me ‘why would i want to with a whore? if i wanted you to suck my dick it would’ve been done already’. and it was like i felt and heard my heart shatter. i never felt so betrayed in my life. the person i trusted the most, felt the closest to, loved from the bottom of my heart and was best friends with since practically birth was now my worst enemy. a tear dropped from my eye without even having to blink. i just walked away, i couldn’t even get out a ‘fuck you’. nothing. i walked home in devastation. i blocked him on everything possible and avoided him as much as i could for months. my parents started to worry about us but i just used the ‘i’m busy’ excuse.

this went on until i absolutely had to see him, which was his 18th birthday. his parents were having a little get together with only family and close friends before his actual birthday party with all of his friends. we were in the middle of dinner when mark’s parents decided to give speeches about how proud they were of their son. when they spoke on his kindness, i had to bite my tongue so hard i thought i tasted blood. i let everything they were saying go through one ear and out the other until somehow they reached the topic of soulmates. for some reason that caught my attention. i find out that mark has found a girl in our school that has the same small heart on her wrist as him. huh. so these are the important things i miss out on. i start thinking about other things that i’ve probably missed out on in mark’s life and begin to get kind of sad. i quickly shake away those feelings and go back to fazing everything out. thankfully i make it home without having to make eye contact with mark.

prom quickly approaches and i am reluctant to go because that one day of junior year still haunts me. my friends ensure me that no one remembers or cares anymore and that i should go because if i don’t, i’ll regret it for the rest of my life. i finally agree to make them stop bothering me. the night comes faster than i expect and i’m already inside sitting down watching everyone have fun. my friend spots me sitting down by myself and drags me out to dance. i’m enjoying myself until it feels like everyone has their eyes on me and is laughing. i try to ignore it but the feeling soon gets so overwhelming that i have to walk out to catch a breath of fresh air. i walk out the door and spot someone on the stairs. i guess they’re having just as a bad night as me. they turn around to see who came to join them. it was mark. if i thought my night wouldn’t get worse, i was unfortunately wrong. he looked as of though he’d been crying. i freeze and contemplate going back inside and scratch that idea out of my head. i walk down the stairs past him and plan to continue down the block but he calls out for me “y/n”. his voice sounded like it was on the verge of breaking. “what could you possibly need?” “to talk to you, i need my best friend back” “oh really or do you need me to suck your dick?” i ask in a bitter tone and walk off. i take an uber home and spend the rest of the night crying; i fall asleep to the sound of my own sobs.

the following morning someone rang my doorbell. my parents weren’t home so i took the responsibility in answering it. and it wasn’t a surprise who i opened it to. “what do you want?”  i say flatly. “y/n, i know you’re upset but i just want to talk to you” he looked distressed and i almost felt sorry for him. “upset is a fucking understatement” i say crossing my arms. “i know that doesn’t even begin to explain how you must be feeling-” “feeling?” i scoff “since when did you ever care about my feelings?” “i always cared about your-” i cut him off. “oh really? let me ask you this then. did you care about my feelings when you called me a whore so loud for everyone and their mom to hear?” he opens his mouth only to close it. he looked like he was struggling trying to find the perfect words for his pitiful excuse. he looks up at the ceiling and blinks away what seems to be tears. “nice, mark, nice” i begin to close the door. “wait” he holds his hand on the door “please” his voice fragile. i close my eyes and take a deep breath. when i open them i look straight into his glassy ones. i somehow see all the emotions he’s feeling in them. but everytime i look into those dark chocolate orbs, i remember the cold asshole behind them that completely invalidated my feelings and i just couldn’t deal with that right now. “no” i say simply and close the door.

i manage to avoid mark all summer and my first year of college and the summer following. so much so that i didn’t think he went to the same university as me. and for a moment in my life i actually forgot about him and was content.

i decided to apply to a job at a cafe close to my dorm to help pay for my books and tuition. fortunately i got the job and would be starting the next day. when i enter the following day and see who is training me, it almost made me want to quit immediately but i thought of the greater good. “hi, i’m y/n the new trainee” i pretend like it’s my first time meeting him and hold out my hand for him to shake. he slowly takes my hand and shakes it, a stunned look on his face. “mark” my heart begins to race because it feels like i haven’t heard that name or thought of his face for decades. i have to admit, mark has always been cute but now that i’m looking at him for the first time in two years, i’m only now noticing his attractive features. it seems as if his face structure has gotten manlier though. his features have definitely gotten darker and intimidating and god we were still holding hands and staring at each other and it’s making me sweat. i let go and avert my eyes elsewhere. he clears his throat “so uhm i’ll be training you today. follow me” i follow him to what looks like the break room. he retrieves me an apron and hands it to me. I put it on while he also grabs a slip of paper, a marker, and badge holder from some drawer. he writes on the paper in all caps ‘trainee’. “y/n you said your name was?” he looks up at me. i nod; happy that he’s also acting like it’s our first time meeting each other. he writes my name on the paper, slips it into the badge holder, and reaches to clip it on my apron. “you have to wear this raggedy thing for a little while but in due time” he points to his name tag and taps on it “you’ll have one of these bad boys” i snicker and he smiles at me. we go back to the front and he’s showing me all the gears. all the while he was very friendly like the old mark i used to know and it brought me back to the days where we’d push each other on the swing so hard that the other almost fell off. but one time mark actually did fall off and broke his arm and my ass got beat… anyway, he shows me most of what i need to know for now and suggests we do a practice run.

he walks out the door and walks back in, pretending to be a different person. he bounces to the counter and says enthusiastically “hey! how are ya!” i laugh and reply “i’m doing well how are you?”. he flips like a light switch “did you just laugh at me?” he furrows his eyebrows and raises his voice. “no sir i-” “no! because that was a disrespectful manner towards a customer!” good thing other co-workers haven’t shown up yet because they would’ve genuinely been worried with the way he was yelling. “i apologize sir-” “i would like to speak to your manager!” he returns to his normal self “and see just like that you’re fired” i just stood there with my mouth agape. “coffee deprived customers could flip on you in an instant so just be aware of that ok” i just nod. “so its best to just stick to the script” he reaches over the counter and taps on the script he gave me. “let’s do this one last time before someone comes and is like what the hell are you doing you’re supposed to be training her” he says while walking towards the door.

the next practice run i follow the script exactly and i make it without getting yelled at again. “that was good but try not to read-it-like-this” he says mocking my choppy reading. we both laugh and i lightly push him. our laughter dies down and we’re left smiling at each other with gleaming eyes. mark clears his throat and checks the time. i look away and purse my lips from the borderline awkward atmosphere. “the others should be getting here around” someone walks through the door “now”.

it was around rush hour and the cafe was bustling. i was kind of having a hard time working the cashier efficiently so mark came to assist me. he was close to my side, close enough for me to feel the warmth of his body heat. one hand was on his hip and the other resting on the counter ready to tap something on the monitor if needed. it got to a point where there were too many people coming in and i wasn’t moving fast enough. mark put his hand on the small of my back and guided me away from the cashier “hey it’s getting really busy right now how about you go on break” he nodded and smiled reassuringly. i went to the break room kind of embarrassed that i couldn’t work quick enough. i felt like this, a job where you just take money and tap stuff on the monitor, was something i was incapable of. i bit into my sandwich with a frown on my face. mark soon joins me in the break room. i sits next to me with a huff. “today has probably been the busiest day all year” i just hum in response. then he notices the expression on my face. to anyone else they would think i was fine but mark has know me for too long to not catch on to my antics. “hey what’s wrong? what happened?” he turns his whole body towards me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “hm? nothing” i shake my head. “y/n” he says in a recognizable serious tone. “i just.. i felt like i couldn’t do it. like i wasn’t fast enough” “y/n, it’s your first day, i was the same way. the manager at the time made me go home because i was so slow” i chuckle “and the line was still backed up when i was doing it by myself just now. one guy asked for the manager and i told him he’s looking at him” i try to hide my shock. wow so those two years i avoided him he went and became a manager. i really should’ve done something instead of watching ‘the office’ in my spare time. “so don’t worry, i’m not going to fire you. i know these things take time. good thing i’m training you it’ll take less time” he smirks at me and i smile. butterflies let loose in my stomach from the smirk but i quickly catch them. oh how i missed the magic mark possessed that could take me out of a bad mood in almost an instant. i missed his humor. i missed his stupid self. i missed my best friend. i missed him.

the rest of your shift went smoothly and you didn’t need to ask mark for anymore help. he still teased you on occasion though. we both leave the cafe together. i get ready to ask mark where he’s going but a girl runs up to mark and embraces him. she kisses him and interlaces her fingers with his. “oh sorry y/n but i have plans, see you tomorrow” and with that they walk off in the opposite direction i was headed. that must be the same girl that was mentioned in mark’s 18th birthday dinner. that’s his soulmate. for some odd reason i feel a knife go through my heart. i try to brush it off as i walk home but the feeling is persistent. so persistent i shed a couple tears and my tattoo starts to burn.

months pass of me working at the cafe and i am no longer a trainee, obviously. mark and i have relit our old flame. i unblocked him on everything and we begin going to the movies, the park, and even each other’s dorm rooms. school has been in session for god knows how long now and we found out we live in the same dorm just the other day.

mark came over because he was suddenly in the mood to bake some cookies. he takes the cookies out the oven and tried to take one and eat it immediately. he hisses when his finger makes contact with the baking pan. “you have to make it cool stupid. god you’re about to be 20 in 4 days and you’re acting like you’re 4” i laugh. “why didn’t you stop me! you know this is how i am, ever since we were little” i stay quiet, trying to act like i didn’t hear what he just said. he sighs “y/n, i can’t keep acting like this” “like what” i act oblivious. “like we don’t have a past” “well frankly mark, i can” “well frankly y/n, i don’t want to” he started getting defensive. “‘don’t want to’” i repeat his words. “ want.. do you ever think about what i want? hell do you ever think about what i need? have you ever thought about what i need?” “ yes all the time” “that’s bullshit and you know it because if you thought about what i needed you wouldn’t have embarrassed me” i feel tears well up in my eyes. “y/n you’re still on that, that was junior year!” “yeah and that one moment in junior year ruined the rest of high school for me. everywhere i went i felt like people just looked at me and saw whore written across my forehead. and my quote on quote ‘friends’ didn’t help, they just told me to get over it. so that’s why i don’t believe you thought about what i needed all the time. because you would’ve thought about what i needed and i needed you” the tears finally spilled and i could see the guilt on mark’s face. “y/n..” he stands up and reaches out for me. “no you’re right. it was junior year. water under the bridge” i choke out a laugh. “no i’m not-” i cut him off “if you really care about what i need you should go because right now i need space. away from you” mark freezes. he puts his hands on his hips, looks up at the ceiling, and lets out a deep breath. he looks at me one last time and leaves my dorm.

four days pass and it’s mark’s birthday. in those four days, our works schedules were supposed to overlap but he hasn’t come to work. i kind of miss him there poking me in my side to make me jump in front of the customer. i contemplate whether or not i should text him happy birthday, instead i get a text from him.

mork ❣️:”y/n i know you need space right now and i do care about what you need but this is a friendship so i think the feeling should be mutual. and right now i need you more than ever right now” [8:47 pm]

mork ❣️:”im scared y/n” [9:03 pm]

mork ❣️:”please.” [9:04 pm]

a period at the end of the last message. oh it’s serious. i decide to put my pride to the side for his sake.

y/n :”i’m coming” [9:04 pm]

i make it to hs dorm room and the door was slightly open so i just walked in. i went straight to his room and walked in without knocking. the lamp on his desk was the only source of light. mark was hidden in the darkest corner but it was visible that he was crying and still is. “mark” he sniffs. i make my way over and sit next to him on the floor. “what happened?” i caress his back and do my best to fix his messy hair. “my.. my tattoo disappeared” he manages to get out between sobs. “what? how?” i remember when i was younger my parents told me that if i were ever mean to someone else, my tattoo would disappear but i always thought that was a way to scare me into being good. i never knew these thing actually happened. “i called my parents about it and they said it happens when one person or the other doesn’t deserve the tattoo, they both lose the tattoo. they asked me what i could’ve possibly done to make it vanish like this but i couldn’t think of anything. somehow i still feel like i did something wrong” he runs a hand half way through his hair and keeps it there. “can you think of anything that she could’ve done?” i ask sympathetically  “i don’t know” he says quickly and i can already tell he’s lying. “mark” i look him straight in the eyes. “i don’t want to tell you. you don’t like talking about the past so i want to respect that”. “i don’t care anymore. that was the past and i’ve come to realize that there’s nothing i can do about it. so go ahead, tell me what happened”. “prom night” as soon as he says that i remember. “that night i took the girl you always see me with to prom” i nod knowing who it is. “we thought we were perfect for each other because we had the same tattoo. so it was only right we went to prom together. half way through she went missing and when i found her she was making out with your ex” i tense at the mention of him. “i was heartbroken. when i was on the stairs my tattoo was fading in and out. when you blew me off that night i was devastated and felt like i had no one. i couldn’t really blame you, i was a complete dick” “i’m sorry i should’ve been there for you” “no it’s fine, you’re here for me now, that’s what matters” he gave me a small smile. “it’s not your fault” he furrows his eyebrows at me. “she made your tattoo disappear” he becomes sulky. “will i ever find someone y/n? what if i stay without a tattoo for the rest of my life? i want to love someone, i want someone to love me” he’s about to cry again so i hug him, letting him bury his head in the crook of my neck. “shh no don’t say that. i’m sure you’re going to find someone. the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to someone like you”. we stay in each other’s arms for a while without saying anything. then mark breaks the silence “thank you” “anytime. also happy birthday” he chuckles out a thank you, the vibration from his chest spreading throughout my whole body. i break the hug “personally, i don’t think this is the way to spend a birthday” i get up from the floor and put my hands out to help him up. “i think we should eat cake” “i don’t have cake” “we’ll make cake”.

we get to the kitchen and put some music on. i make the cake batter all by myself and throw it in the oven because when it comes to baking, mark is hopeless. we have our own little dance party and karaoke while waiting for the cake. when i take the cake out and go for the frosting mark gets a text. his facial expression automatically turns sour. “what is it?” i walk over to him. “she texted me” i take his phone from him.

my love 💝:”sorry markie i got caught up with family issues, i’m coming right now” [10:24 pm]

“family issues? has she ever told you about said ‘issues’?” i finger quote issues. he shakes his head. i scoff and tap my fingers across the keyboard.

mark :”i don’t think it’s a family issue if you want to suck someone else’s dick, i think that’s a you issue and if you can’t read behind the lines, we’re done, over, finished, broken up” [10:26 pm]

i start giggling and mark snatches his phone back. “what did you do-” his eyes widen at what you replied and he started giggling too. “anyway let’s get back to this cake”. we begin frosting the cake and i couldn’t fight the urge to smudge frosting on his adorable cheek. i laugh and start running when i see him with frosting on his fingers. the chase doesn’t last long because mark grabs me by the waist from behind and smears frosting all over both my cheeks. we were both weak from laughter to fight each other anymore. i leaned back onto mark’s chest and he didn’t make an effort to move so neither did i. the rest of the night was spent watching movies, me doing mark’s makeup, face masks, wrestling, awkward positions.. a lot of awkward positions.

work days at the cafe somehow became even better because we no longer had to act like we didn’t know each other. the hours went by quicker and the work didn’t feel as burdening. since mark was one of the managers, he made sure that our schedules damn near always overlapped. when we had to close together, he’d walk me back to my dorm room. if he didn’t have class the next day and he was too tired to go to his room he’d stay with me. he has a small space in my closet for his ‘sleepy sleep’ clothes as he likes to call it.

summer came around and we both went home to our parents. since we’re older now, we hang out whenever we want and wherever we want. this included a lot of trips to the beach because he wanted to watch the sunset and look at the stars. he loves to talk about our lives and where we might end up. he has now accepted the fact that he no longer has a tattoo so he doesn’t talk about that too much. he says that ‘it’s ok, as long as i have you by my side as my best friend i think i’ll be alright’.

the night before my birthday mark took me to my favorite spot. the cliff that looks over the beach where we love watching the sunset and stars. he lays a big blanket for the both of us to sit on. the sun had already set so the moon was reflecting off of the almost still water. the light was highlighting my prominent features and i didn’t even notice. out of the corner of my eye i see mark staring at me with a small smile on his face. i look over to him and smile “what?” he just shakes his head and looks down at his hands in his lap. “why did you take me so late? we missed the sunset~” i say with a pout. “it was kinda a last minute decision” “wow so you didn’t have this planned for my birthday beforehand! it was last minute and rushed huh?!” i push him playfully. he laughs that damn beautiful laugh that could cause world peace “no, no i did i just didn’t know if i should do it”. “well what is it?” i say curiosity in my voice. “y/n i..” he signs. “i don’t want you to turn 20” i open my mouth to question him but he continues. “i don’t want you to find your soulmate. because i want you. i like you y/n. i don’t want you with anyone else. but i don’t want to ruin your happiness with my selfishness. so i wanted to say this before you turned 20 so it wouldn’t jeopardize you losing your tattoo like me. i was so blinded by that tattoo i didn’t realize what i had right here” he lays his hand on top of mine. i was so taken aback that i just sat there and stared at him. “say something, please”. “i.. i like you too mark” we were inches away from each other. the moon was acting as a spotlight and the sound of the waves created an atmosphere that felt like we were the only people on earth. “god i just want to kiss you right now” he slightly furrows his eyebrows. i take the initiative and kiss him first. his lips were ever so soft as well as his hands cupping my cheeks. the kiss was passionate and filled with longing. he licked my bottom lip and i granted him access into my mouth. his tongue explored every inch of my mouth. i threw my leg over him to straddle his lap and the kiss got even more heated. he put one hand under my shirt and gripped my hip. the other hand was grabbing my ass, both were pulling me closer to him. “you’re so beautiful” he kisses down my jaw to my neck. i remove my shirt to give him more access and he kisses lower. i bite back a moan. i feel him start to grow beneath me and i grind down onto him. he groans and flips me onto my back. he takes off his shirt and i stare at his bare chest in awe. he returns back to my lips and slides his hands down to my shorts and damn near rips them off. my hands were lost in his hair while trying to deepen the already deep kiss. he slips his hand inside my underwear and sinks a finger inside me. i gasp at the new feeling. “fuck babe you’re so tight”. he continues working wonders on me and slips in 2 more fingers, stretching me out. at this point i’m a moaning mess. he feels me getting close and removes himself. i whine at this but he pays me no mind. he slides down my underwear and tosses them to the side. he opens my leg and connects his mouth to my heat. i moan out his name and i can feel him smirk against me. he works on me until i feel a knot tie in my stomach and unravel itself. he looks up at me as i release myself “i love seeing you like this” he gets rid of his pants and boxer briefs. my eyes widen at the sight of his dick. then is when i realize that i’ve never actually had a dick inside of me before. he sees the worry in my face “babe what’s wrong? if you want me to stop just tell me”. “no it’s not that it’s just that, i’ve never done this before” he raises his eyebrows at me. “baby” he kisses my cheek. “are you sure you want to lose it to me?” i nod “i’ve never been so sure in my life”. he kisses my forehead “i’ll go slow. don’t be afraid to tell me to stop if it hurts too much ok” i nod. “i need to hear you” he cups my cheek. “ok”. he grabs my hand entwines our fingers. he lines himself up with my entrance and i close my eyes, preparing myself. “no, babe, look at me” i open my eyes for his to hold mine. he slowly eases his tip in and watches my face twist from discomfort. he waits for me to give him the ok to keep going until he’s completely in. he buries his face in my neck, concentrating on not moving until i was ready. he was clenching his jaw hard and fisting and unfisting his hand. then i was finally ready for him to start moving. he went as slow as i needed until i wanted him to go faster. he was thrusting into me at a speed i didn’t think was possible. i wrapped my legs around his waist hoping that he would go even deeper. my free hand was holding onto his shoulder for some leverage. he began kissing and sucking on my neck again and i was in heaven. i was practically screaming his name and i was glad no one was around because they would’ve thought it was a murder going on. “i’m close princess, you’re doing- so- so good” he said between groans. his breathy moans were going right into my ear and it was turning me on even more, if possible. he raised my hips even more and snapped his hips at a new angle that brought tears to my eyes. the amount of pleasure mark was giving me was unbearable. i felt my walls contract and hold onto him. i shut my eyes tight and released with a yell of his name. he kept going to reach his high though and my legs started to shake. i could tell he was getting ready to pull out when i tell him i’m on the pill. this is the only time i’ll thank my period cramps for being so deadly. he kisses me deeply after i tell him that. he releases inside me with a loud groan. he rides out his high and finally pulls out. we lay next to each other for a few moments to catch our breaths then he gets up and opens his car. he comes back with clean clothes. “i forget you always have extra clothes in your car” i chuckle. “it’s convenient” he smiles at me. “i thought i had clothes in there too, why is it just your clothes?” i look at him confused. “because you look cute in my clothes” he pecks me on the lips.

we get dressed and lay back down on the blanket. i lay my head on his chest and my leg between his. his hand is lightly caressing my side with his fingertips, the other was checking his phone for the time. “we have three minutes before your birthday” he says with a frown on his face. i look up at his moon lit face “i’m gonna miss this mark” i brush the hair covering his eyes away. “really why does destiny have to be so cruel?”. “i don’t know. i must’ve been a serial killer in my past life to be so mistreated” i smile at his ridiculous joke. “i hope your tattoo comes back and you find someone that you love from the bottom of your heart. i hope that they make you happier than i ever could” “you too” his eyes begin to water. he checks his phone again. “we have one minute, can i get one last kiss?” “of course” we kiss one last time and we felt every single one of each other’s emotions in it. finally, the kiss breaks. we sit up straight and mark checks his phone. “happy birthday” he smiles while a stray tear falls down his cheek. “thank you” i smile at him. i feel my tattoo start burning and i wince. we both look at it glow in anticipation. the rose turns into an infinity symbol and stops glowing. mark winces too and looks at where his tattoo use to be. it starts glowing and soon forms the same infinity symbol. then our tattoos glow together. we look up at each other and smile. “i love you” mark says before kissing me the first of many kisses to come.

[antspaul]

happy holidays @lollercakesff !!! I wrote you a fic! I hope you enjoy it ~ and have a wonderful holiday season! 

I am posting the fic here, as well as on ao3, as it’s a little long (~10k). 

charity (who is helping who?) 

Summary: AU in which Anne is a little more poor but just as vivacious while Gilbert is a lot more wealthy and a little more cowardly. 

Based somewhat loosely on the book Daddy Long Legs, written in 1912 by Jean Webster. There’s a movie with Fred Astaire and a wonderful musical based on the book. I always thought that Jerusha, the main character, was very reminiscent of Anne. The title comes from the song “Charity” from the musical. 

PART I.

13 July 1899

Dear Ms. Shirley-Cuthbert, 

I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected to receive a full scholarship to the University of Toronto. This scholarship allows deserving young men and women invested in the arts to attend college in pursuit of strengthening their craft. You were selected on the basis of your imaginative and enjoyable writing, which the University hopes that you will pursue once on campus. 

The scholarship will cover your tuition and board for the four years it will take you to earn your Bachelor of Arts, provided to you from a very generous benefactor. There is also a small account in your name that will provide for your books. The funds in this account are stable and will not be replenished, so you are advised to spend very wisely. All additional details about your award are on the attached page.

In order to keep your scholarship, you will write your benefactor letters, at least once per month throughout your tenure at the University of Toronto, informing him of your progress, both academic and creative. Your benefactor will remain anonymous, and you may only address him as “Mr. Smith.” The address is provided below. You may use your book account to purchase postage, if necessary. 

Congratulations once again. We at the University of Toronto will see you come fall. 

Alastair Pendleton 

Director of Financial Aid and Scholarships

University of Toronto

1 September 1901

To my magnificent benefactor, 

I am sorry but I cannot address you as “Mr. Smith��, not when you have changed my life for the better in such a profound way. I can hardly believe that scarcely two months ago I was lamenting my future stuck on the farm and now I am here at the University of Toronto, ready to learn all there is to know in the world! And I have you to thank. 

Please don’t think that I’m an ungrateful child. I truly appreciate everything that everyone has done for me. Until six years ago I lived the sorrowful life of the unwanted child that I was. You see, Mr. Smith, my parents died when I was only three months old. Does knowing I’m an orphan make you think less of me? I hope it doesn’t. I imagine a man as generous and kind as you wouldn’t care. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be giving charity to poor girls such as I. 

Anyway, I lived in an orphanage, among other places, until I was thirteen and the most wonderful people in the world adopted me! Their names are Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert and they are brother and sister. I lived with them on a farm on Prince Edward Island. Have you ever been to Prince Edward Island, Mr. Smith? If you haven’t, you must go. I am quite certain it is the most breathtaking beautiful and splendid place on the planet. 

I was told when I spoke to Mr. Pendleton in person that you don’t need to know anything about my life beyond my schooling and my writing. But since I will likely be mentioning Matthew and Marilla quite frequently, I thought that I would tell you who they were. 

Will you be reading these letters? On the long train ride to Toronto, I thought long and hard about what I would do if I were a mysterious, filthy rich old man giving heaps of money to farm girls who couldn’t otherwise afford college. After a while I just gave up because I am not any of those things and could simply not put myself in your shoes. Marilla always berates me for my vanity, which leads me to think that I could not remain anonymous for very long. My opinion doesn’t matter, of course, but I do hope you read my letters. I intend to pour every speck of gratitude towards you that I possess onto these pages.

What is there left to talk about? Classes don’t start until tomorrow. I know that you wanted to know about my academics, but there isn’t any to talk about yet. I wanted to draft my first letter to you before homework became too overwhelming. Would you like to hear about my friends? My friendships certainly count as personal, but since I will mention them in the future as well, I will introduce them now. 

My best friend and roommate is Diana Barry. Oh, how to describe Diana! She is the most dearest girl in the world. I met her when I had just arrived in Avonlea and immediately recognized her as a kindred spirit. Sharing a room with Diana is a dream come true! Her parents are rigid and close-minded. Perhaps I shouldn’t have written that because they are also very rich and seem to know every other rich person in North America. I don’t mean to be harsh but I’ve seen them make her cry enough times that I think I am entitled to my opinion of them. 

Ruby Gillis is my second best friend. She’s also from Avonlea. She’s a wonderfully nice girl, maybe too nice for her own good. Ruby lacks imagination, perhaps, but sometimes an imagination as big as mine, I have found, can be a burden, as when you can imagine a beautiful future it sometimes leaves the present looking grayer than ever. 

Who else is there to mention? Jane Andrews is the only other girl from home who also got in to U of T (University of Toronto, as I’m sure you know — writing it like that gives me such a thrill!) but I doubt I’ll be seeing her much, as she’s taken residence with her aunt and uncle in town. I’ve also met some new girls and we’ve become fast friends. Their names are Priscilla Grant, Stella Maynard, and Philippa Gordon. As I have just come to know them, I can’t tell you much except I can already tell they are kindred spirits. It’s just something you feel. I feel that we are kindred spirits, too, Mr. Smith. 

I apologize if this letter has gone on too long, or if it’s not the type of letter you wanted me to send you. The letters that come from my desk usually go to someone I know very well, like my friend Cole or Diana’s Aunt Josephine. 

Oh, those are two others I’m sure to mention a lot — Cole is an artist and is the kindest, most gentle soul I have ever come across. Aunt Josephine is a rich old lady who is a sort of parent to Cole. Perhaps you know her, though when I asked Aunt Jo if she was acquainted with an old rich man who sends orphan girls to college to be writers, she said she knew of none. 

All that is to say that I don’t know who you are or what sort of person you are but I vow with all of the strength in my heart to do my very best to write these letters well. 

Until next month!

Your eternally grateful friend, 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert

P.S.: I know you insist on remaining anonymous, but if I were to receive some sort of occasional acknowledgement that you are getting my letters, that would be more than welcome. I only thought I’d let you know. 

FROM THE DESK OF ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT

21 April 1902

To my beloved benefactor, 

 I have not been able to stop smiling all week! Priscilla tells me I look crazed, with this Cheshire grin stretching across my face but I simply can’t contain myself and it’s all because of you! I don’t know how you found out that it was my birthday last week but your gift came just in time. My handwriting has never looked more beautiful than it does underneath the words “FROM THE DESK OF ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT.” Just seeing it on my table sends a thrill down my spine knowing you so thoughtfully ordered this for me yourself. How I wish you would have sent some sort of personal note with it. I know you have never answered my questions before, no matter how many I have asked. I am sorry to tell you that you’ll just have to deal with it as I can’t help but want to know you. Can you really blame me? 

Classes are going much the same as in my last letter. I retook my geometry test and did much better, I am happy to report, due to Phil’s untiring help with studying. I even started to draft some short stories that I have been thinking about, though I find it difficult to put aside the time to write them as my studies keep me more than busy. 

Here, Mr. Smith, is where I get more personal so if you still feel obliged to ignore ramblings about my social life skip to the end of the letter now. 

As you know my birthday was last Thursday. Priscilla, Stella, Phil, Ruby, and Diana decided to surprise me and take me out for dinner! They escorted me to the most charming and expensive restaurant within five miles of our boarding house. At first I felt overwhelming unprepared and underdressed for such a formal occasion, sure that I stuck out like a sore thumb around all of the elegant ladies and gentlemen dining nearby. But soon the waiter brought out course after course of wonderful, delicious food and we were having such a pleasurable time that any insecurity slipped my mind completely. For a moment it seemed that nothing at all could tarnish such an impeccable moment!

But of course as soon as this thought entered my mind Gilbert Blythe showed up to ruin the dinner. As I have not yet mentioned Gilbert to you (that I remember, at least) here is all you need to know about him: he did something terribly humiliating to me when we first met in school at age thirteen and I have never forgiven him for it since. If he had left it at that we would be on better terms now but soon after he left Avonlea and on the few occasions we’ve seen each other since he has made a routine of offending me similarly. So as you can see why his presence at my special birthday dinner was less than welcome. 

Perhaps, had I not known what kind of person Gilbert is, it would have offended me less when he sent a bottle of wine over to our table and offered to pay for my meal. But no doubt he only intended to flaunt his wealth before us like some peacock parading its feathers! He likely thought we would struggle to afford our meal. I have no aversion to certain types of charity, Mr. Smith, as you know, but his assumptions, and that inappropriate bottle of wine, nearly had me storming out of the restaurant in a rage. Diana and Ruby calmed me down and we politely but sternly declined his offer to the waiter. I didn’t see Gilbert’s reaction but I wish I had seen the smugness drop from his face. 

It was a thoroughly exhausting affair. Emotionally, of course. 

22 April 1901

I’m sorry for the interruption. I heard Diana call for me and it sounded quite urgent— a bouquet of flowers, it turns out, had arrived at the front door and were addressed to me. Thinking they were a belated birthday gift I readily accepted them. Imagine my surprise when the note inside revealed they were from Gilbert Blythe himself! I wanted to scream from the nerve of him and throw the flowers out but they were still quite beautiful so Ruby convinced me to keep them. The note on the inside wished me a happy birthday and apologized for his impertinence on my birthday. It almost made me regret writing those harsh things about him above. Almost. 

Anyway, Mr. Smith, this is where my personal ramblings end if you don’t care to read them. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I spoke to one of the instructors here about my stories and she said they sounded promising and recommended that I submit one to the University literary journal! I might get published before the end of the term, if all goes well! If you care to read my work, I’ve attached the first four pages of a recent story to this letter. 

Yours, 

19 year-old Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, soon-to-be published author

FROM THE DESK OF ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT

5 February 1902

To my dear but frustratingly mysterious benefactor, 

Can you believe it’s been a year and a half since I found out that you had selected me for the scholarship? I can’t. Since this letter will likely be incredibly short (examinations are upon us and will start soon, so I have little time to write) I wanted to start this letter by offering my undying thanks to you. So here it is: thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! And I’m so horribly mortified that I wrote to you in the manner that I did in my January letter. At the time I felt horribly unsympathetic to the wealthy and took out my frustrations on you. I wish every wealthy person were as kind as you. I suppose I really don’t know how kind you are but something tells me you are wonderfully nice. 

Classes here are going well. I’ve said it before but I love being a sophomore! I finally feel like I truly belong at the University of Toronto. As much as I love Avonlea— have you visited yet? — I’m equally glad to be exploring the world on my own. As stressful as exams are, I love being at school. Even though I’ve been to only a few places in my life living in a city as large as Toronto makes each new day an adventure. I could explore this city for years and still find new nooks and crannies. 

Since time is running short, here are several quick updates: 

Ruby is still considering dropping out. Diana and I desperately try everyday to convince her not to, but our pleas seem to have done nothing to change her mind. It will be sad but not totally unsurprising to see her leave. 

Ever since Aunt Josephine intervened with Diana’s parents, she has more confidently pursued her music. If you’re ever interested in hearing beautiful songs played on the piano then she plays a concert once a month. You could come and I wouldn’t even know you were there! It would be worth it, I promise. 

Stella, Phil, and Priscilla are doing fine as well! Priscilla gets herself into trouble for pulling pranks on our new house matron, but scoldings never seem to bother her. Beautiful Philippa frustratingly has no shortage of suitors willing to do anything for her. It’s maddening in a funny sort of way to watch them trip over themselves to impress her as she pays them barely any notice at all. 

What else? I have started to write for the newspaper! Just as I did in school. I will put in the envelope my very first story. It’s only a little book review but seeing my name in print gives me the same thrill as it did last spring when my story was published. I hope this time my writing will be met with less harsh criticism. 

Well, that’s all I can think of to say today. I’ll try to send a longer letter next week if I can. 

Faithfully, 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert

P.S. I forgot to ask— if it isn’t too much trouble could you send me more stationery? I’m almost out of the paper that you sent me for my birthday. 

FROM THE DESK OF ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT

10 May 1903

My deeply appreciated benefactor, 

I deeply apologize for the time it took me to write you this letter. I'm also sorry for how many of my letters start out with an apology. I realize it's been more than a month since I sent my last correspondence. Can it be called correspondence if you never write back? You've sent me gifts, which I cherish with all of my soul, but never once have you sent me a single word back. After three years you'd think I would just resign myself to the fact that all you'll ever be to me is a mystery shrouded in enigma, albeit one I'm relentlessly grateful for. But if you know anything about me by now, Mr. Smith, as you should if you've read any of my letters, is that I am as stubborn as a mule. Every person I've ever worked for or belonged to has said as much. 

As I wrote that above paragraph I've realized that some of my words to you could be considered rude. Would you mind terribly if I apologized again? It's just that this week has been one of the worst I have ever experienced. May I tell you about it? I suppose one of the good things about never hearing back from you is that you will never tell me I can't. 

As I write this it's Friday, and the dreadfulness started Monday. What makes everything seem worse is that the weekend was so wonderful. Ruby came for a visit, sporting gifts for all of us from her and Moody's recent visit to America. Seeing her glowing face (I think she may be expecting but if she is, I doubt she knows herself) and hearing about how happy she and her new husband are softened the blow of her departure from school last year and everyone had a delightful time. Then she boarded the train back to the Maritimes Monday morning and everything seemed to put on a shade of gray. 

For the rest of the day both me and Diana were terribly irritable in our sadness to see her go. Our crossness culminated that night when Diana and I had a horrible argument. I can barely recall how it started— I think that I made some offhand comment disparaging Gilbert and she jumped to his rescue, and everything devolved from there. We were shouting horrible things at each other that should never be said out loud, things we didn't truly mean but hurt regardless. We haven't spoken since and though I know we are both regretful I don't know how to approach her and I think she feels the same. Our friendship isn't over, at least, but I yearn for normalcy. Concentrating in class has proved near impossible, even in the classes Diana and I don't share, because I'm so distracted by my guilt and shame. 

To make matters worse, yesterday I checked my mail at the post office and what would be there but not one, but TWO rejection letters from literary magazines. I was reading them up in a secluded tree behind the library, thinking I was alone. The first was firm but polite in their rejection. We regret to inform you that we will not be accepting your work at this time, but please submit more work in the future. The kind of dismissal that comes with an impermanent sting. The next, however, was clearly more personal. The letter described my writing as infantile, superfluous, and shallow— I starting crying on the spot. In my twenty-one years of life, I've been on the receiving end of much harsh criticism, coming from my peers, my teachers, even those I considered my friends. I often turned to writing as a way of comfort and solace in those moments. The thought that I wasn't even good at my one talent was too much to bear. So in my privacy I sobbed harder than I had in years. 

But apparently my spot in the tree was not as concealed as I originally thought. Just as I was about to collect myself and climb down, I heard a man clear his throat and call up to me, "Miss, are you alright?"

I looked down and almost fell off the branch as I realized who it was. "Gilbert?" I exclaimed. 

He looked surprised to see me, a wonder since that day I wore a bright yellow dress and my hair is as red as ever. "What are you doing up there?" he asked me, knitting his eyebrows together in that infuriating way he always does. "Have you been... crying?"

I shook my head but I'm sure it did nothing to hide my frazzled state. 

"Do you need help coming down from there?"

"No," I said but he offered me a hand anyway and I accepted it. 

As I brushed the leaves and bark from my skirt he asked me, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

My meltdown had caused me to miss lunch so I accepted. At the tea house, he as always volunteered to pay for everything which I found frustrating but I've gotten more used to Gilbert over the years.

We talked idly for a while. I asked him about his classes. He's a medical student, did I tell you that? Not in medical school yet, but in a pre-medical program. With all of his money, I don't know why he needs a career but I suppose you have to do something to fill your days. Anyway, I knew this term he's had a number of terribly strenuous courses and I was curious how he was handling them. Everything was going well, he said but didn't appear that interested in talking about himself. 

"Do you want to talk about why you were so upset earlier?" he asked me suddenly. "I would understand if you don't, of course, but perhaps if you told someone you'd... feel better."

I sighed and pulled the letters from my pocket, handing them over to him. He scanned them quickly, raising his eyebrows. 

"Wow," he said once he finished reading. "How could they be so..."

"Blunt?" 

"Wrong," he finished. "These people clearly know nothing. "

I was a bit nonplussed at his reaction. "I should have worked harder on the stories, instead of rushing to send them in. I'm more angry at myself than at those who rejected me."

Gilbert shook his head. "Your work is far from shallow, Anne. If you wrote it, then I'm sure it was amazing." He scoffed at the letter. 

“I didn’t know you had read any of my writing,” I said. 

“I read your articles in the newspaper,” he was quick to reply. 

“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t judge my writing on those little book reviews in the newspaper.”

“No— I meant the newspaper back home. In Avonlea. Bash would send them to me here, and I always loved what you wrote. Everything you wrote carried so much meaning. That stuck with me.”

"Well, thank you, Gilbert," was all I really could say. I felt a strange burst of affection towards him at that moment and it struck me that we are truly friends. Close friends, as close as I am to Priscilla, Phil, and Stella. 

Gilbert has changed these last few years, too. It's the strangest thing. When I first met him and he was a boy of fifteen, he was much like every other boy I met back then— confident, rowdy, foolhardy. Then his father died and on the rare occasion he came back to Avonlea, he seemed to have retreated into himself. We blamed it on the grief and all of the money he came into with his father's inheritance (and, reportedly, that of a wealthy aunt). But recently traces of the old Gilbert, the one who defended me from Billy Andrews and called me Carrots, have resurfaced. I don't know really how I feel about all that. I just know that I was incredibly thankful to have him as a friend yesterday in the tea house. 

Anyways, I know that all of that might have been too personal. I'll stop myself now as I hear Diana coming up the stairs and writing this letter has motivated me to mend things with her. I’ll write more to you in a few days with updates on my courses and all of that (everything is well, don’t worry) but I simply wanted to tell someone. 

Thankful as always, 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert

P.S. It’s Saturday now and Diana and I are on good terms again. I showed her the letters and she too thought they were preposterous. Diana has read the stories I sent in and liked them a lot. Because of her confidence and my talk with Gilbert on Thursday I’ve decided to send you one of my stories. I know you at least like my writing so perhaps someone will enjoy them. 

PART II.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Anne told Diana as they walked, arm-in-arm, through the front doors of the lecture hall. “Can you believe that it was three years ago that we first walked into this building for our first class?”

“We were terrified, if I recall,” said Diana. “Look at us now— tall, beautiful, intimidating senior girls!” She struck a pose, silly and exaggerated and the two dissolved into giggles. 

They found seats, two right next to each other near the front of the room. Twenty minutes early as they liked to be to every class on the first day, only a few other students had yet arrived. 

“I remember being frightened of the older girls when I was a freshman,” Anne said, pulling out her notebook and pen and placing them squarely on the table in front of her. “Now that I am one, I don’t know what there was to be frightened of. I scarcely feel older than I did back then.”

“Do you think that there will be many lower-years in this class?” asked Diana. 

“I don’t know. If this course was offered my first term here, I would have stopped at nothing to take it.” Anne breathed out dreamily. “To think we’ll be studying only contemporary women writers— this is exactly the kind of course I envisioned taking when I first thought about going to college.” 

“It’s too bad that the others couldn’t fit this into their timetables.”

Anne sighed. “Such is the busy life of a senior. Everyone says that we’ll have loads and loads more coursework this term but I think that I’ll hardly notice if the extra work is something I enjoy. Don’t you agree?”

Diana nodded firmly, and the room started to fill up with other students, mostly girls but a few boys showed up as well. Their instructor, the soft spoken but kind Professor Abbott, arrived five minutes prior to the class’s scheduled start time. He walked through the front door, trailed by none other than Gilbert Blythe, and the two seemed to be engaged in conversation. As they approached the chalkboard and instructor’s desk, Gilbert thanked the man and they shook hands before Gilbert left him. 

“Hello Anne, hello Diana,” Gilbert said, standing in front of their table. “May I sit next to you?”

One of the only free seats in the room was right next to Anne, so she nodded, then asked, “You’re in this class?” 

Gilbert sat down. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Diana gently elbowed Anne for her rudeness. “We’ll be glad to see you at least twice a week now,” Diana said. “Last term we could barely catch a glimpse of you once a month.”

He chuckled. “Yes, the medical faculty keeps us quite busy. If this is how rigorous pre-medical program is, I can’t even begin to imagine the real thing.”

“You’ll get used to it, I’m sure,” Diana said. 

“I have no choice,” replied Gilbert, sardonic but Anne could tell he was in a good mood. 

Up front, Prof. Abbott ordered a red-faced sophomore boy to hand out papers with the reading list. He had prepared one paper for every three students, so Anne, Diana, and Gilbert shared a paper.

“Oh no!” Anne exclaimed as she read one title on the list. 

“What happened?” asked Diana. 

“I forgot to bring a book with me from home. This one here— Elizabeth and Her German Garden— I read it last summer and meant to bring my copy from home so I didn’t have to purchase another. But now I realize that I forgot to pack it, and we’re reading it next week.”

“Don’t despair, Anne, you can borrow mine when I’m done reading the assigned sections,” offered Diana. 

Gilbert cleared his throat. “Actually, I happen to have an extra copy, if you wanted it, Anne.”

Anne perked up. “Really? Thank you, Gilbert!”

After class ended, Gilbert and Anne said goodbye to Diana and started the walk to Gilbert’s nearby apartment. Gilbert leading Anne, they reached his street only a few minutes later, as Gilbert lived only a street or two away from the main campus of the University of Toronto. The houses that lined the road embodied wealth and luxury. Though she had never been there, Anne knew that Gilbert lived in a small but ridiculously comfortable apartment at the top of one of these red bricked buildings. 

She had never been on his street, either, but still the name— Sherbourne Street— felt familiar. As the two ascending the stairs of Gilbert’s building, Anne realized why: somewhere on the street, among its seven miles of fancy house after fancy house, live Anne’s mysterious benefactor. 

Anne laughed out loud. 

Gilbert turned around and threw up an inquisitive eyebrow. “Is something funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Anne. “It’s only that the world of the rich is so remarkably tiny, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” answered Gilbert. “Why do you say that?”

They reached the top step and Gilbert pulled out his key to open his door. 

Anne told him, “I’ve realized that you live on the same street as someone I know.”

Gilbert paused, his key only halfway in the lock. “Oh? Who?”

“Well, I’ve never met him. This might sound strange, but he’s— are you going to open the door or not, Gilbert?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Gilbert let them in. “You were saying?”

“He’s an old rich man who’s been paying for my education. I’ve never seen him in person, you see, but I’ve written him letters for the last three years so I feel like I know him quite well.”

Anne followed Gilbert through his apartment, which was quite larger than it appeared on the outside, until they ended up in a large library room with a fireplace and massive chairs with vast, soft-looking cushions. It was exactly the kind of library Anne yearned to possess herself, where she could sit with a warm cup of tea on a cold winter’s day. 

“The book is over here,” Gilbert said, pointing to a shelf and directing her there. “So… your… old man has written you back often, then?”

“Well, not exactly. But I believe that you don’t have to know a person to know them.”

“That doesn’t make much sense at all, Anne.”

She pouted. “Never mind then. Maybe it isn’t meant to be understood by anyone else but me.”

He laughed, then, a soft chuckle that surprised Anne in its clarity. He pulled a book off the shelf. “Here it is,” he said, handing over his copy of Elizabeth and Her German Garden. 

As Anne took it graciously, she couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t have another copy on the shelf but decided not to mention it. 

~

The rest of the course was as enjoyable as Anne and Diana had hoped. Tuesday morning before class often brought Anne, Diana, and Gilbert together to a nearby tea house to eat lunch and discuss the week's readings. Anne looked forward to their meeting more than almost anything else. Gilbert seemed to appreciate the literature as much as Anne and Diana, even though the books were by women. He was able to offer both a male and medical opinion, the latter of which being particularly valued in their discussion of The Yellow Wallpaper. Both Anne and Diana thought his enjoyment curious, but their instructor was also a man after all. It wasn't so strange, and to have a man appreciating the words of a woman rather than the other way around was empowering to Anne as a writer herself. 

Anne had never seen Gilbert so relaxed as he was during their Tuesday morning book discussions. Usually, in most other occasions when their paths crossed, Gilbert always seemed to be in such a rush, stressed out about business, or class, or some other small thing. Anne had always felt sad for him because of this, but to see him truly at ease painted him in a different light in her mind. His presence became something welcome, more soothing than it had ever been. She had realized they were good friends less than a year ago, and she wondered if Gilbert's father had never died, if business had never kept him away from Avonlea, they would be as good of friends today. 

The term flew quicker than Anne had anticipated, as it was want to do, and soon Christmas was over and exam season was upon them. Anne barely caught sight any of her friends for those two weeks, as everyone boarded themselves in their rooms to study and write essays. The only person Anne saw with any sort of regularity was Diana, which only happened because the two shared a room. 

The Monday of the second exam week, Anne and Diana decided to take a much-deserved break, going for a stroll in a nearby park to clear their minds. 

"Have you seen Gilbert lately?" Anne asked Diana. 

"No," said Diana. "I imagine he is incredibly busy with his own exams. Studying for our exams is hard enough. Can you even imagine what his must be like?"

Anne shuddered. "I would rather not. While I find the human body and all its functions endlessly fascinating, I've caught a glimpse of his more complicated textbooks. I won't be joining the pre-medical program any time soon."

"At the very least, we'll see him at the exam for women's literature," said Diana. 

But when the day came, Gilbert did not show up. Diana and Anne showed up their usual twenty minutes early, expecting to see their friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

As the minutes to the exam's start passed, Anne became nervous for her friend. She rose from her chair and said to Professor Abbott, who was seconds away from starting the test, "Excuse me, sir, but shouldn't we wait until Gilbert is here?"

Professor Abbott fixed her with an odd look. "Mr. Blythe won't be sitting the exam."

Had something happened? Had Gilbert dropped the course last-minute? That couldn't be right. He had attended every class. 

Anne badly wanted to ask why, worried about her friend, but Professor Abbott gave her no room to do so, starting to read the instructions for their timed essay. She wrote a fine essay, though it took her longer than it would have had she not been so distracted by the empty spot next to her. When the exam finished, Anne wasted not a second to ask her instructor what he had meant. 

"Mr. Blythe was only auditing the course," was his answer. "Therefore, he did not have to take the exam. I thought you knew that, him being your beau." 

Heat rushed to her face. A younger Anne might have argued that Gilbert was not her beau in the least, but today she thanked him and left with Diana. 

On their walk home, Anne clung to Diana's arm and asked, "It seems very strange that Gilbert would audit a course." 

"It's not so strange," replied Diana. "Gilbert has always been interested in literature, and likely wanted an excuse to read more without having another exam to prepare for."

"Why do you think he didn't tell us?" asked Anne. 

Diana peered at her, a curious glint in her eyes. "I have a suspicion." 

When Diana didn't elaborate immediately, Anne stopped them in the middle of the walkway. A disgruntled set of girls behind them rolled their eyes to wind around them. 

"What is it?"

With a small grin, Diana answered, "I think Gilbert took the class because of you."

"Me?!" Anne said incredulously. "Why would Gilbert do that?"

"You really don't know?" 

"Know what? What is there to know?"

"Never mind," Diana said slyly, pulling them back into motion. 

"Diana, quit messing with my head and tell me." 

Diana laughed. "Are you saying that you really don't see the way he looks at you? He obviously loves you."

Anne didn't say anything, trying to wrap her mind around Diana's words. 

Sighing, Diana continued, "If you don't believe me, just ask him yourself."

Anne huffed, confused at her irritation. "I think I will."

It took a few days to pin down Gilbert, as his exams kept him busy and occupied at the few moments he was usually reliably free. But finally Anne managed to catch him at their favorite tea house, reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee, and sat down without invitation. 

Gilbert looked surprised to see her there. "Anne, hello." He folded his newspaper and set it down in front of him. "Not that you're unwelcome, but what are you doing here?"

"Stella said she saw you here," Anne said.

"Oh," said Gilbert. "Well, do you want something? On me, of course."

"No. Actually, I have a question. An important question. Well, maybe it's not so important, but it could be. Depending on your answer."

"Anne— just... ask the question."

Gilbert looked a little nervous himself, shifting in his chair. 

Anne took a breath. "Right. Sorry. I was only wondering... why did you take the Women Authors course?"

"Oh." He was quiet for a moment and Anne studied his face. "Well, I wanted to educate myself, I suppose, about literature written by women. I felt I didn't know much about the subject."

Unsatisfied, Anne shot back, "You decided to take an extra class for no reason in your last year of the pre-medical program?"

"I wanted to read something other than dry medical books. I'm sorry... did you want another answer?"

Anne sighed and stood up, more dejected than she thought she'd be. "No. I was just being silly. I'm sorry for bothering you, Gilbert. I should go."

"You don't have to."

"No, I should. I have a letter to write."

~

FROM THE DESK OF ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT

1 May 1904 

Dear Mr. Smith, 

It felt right to address you in a more formal manner today because we have formal matters to discuss. As I graduate in three weeks, I imagine that this will be my last letter to you for some time. Don’t worry, I intend to tell you as soon as something big happens with my writing. You’ll be the first to know, before Marilla or Matthew or even Diana. I could never forget that you are the reason I was able to go to school and reach my full potential. Because of you, I’m not stuck at Green Gables, shoveling hay alongside Jerry or teaching at the small Avonlea school house and never seeing the world for the rest of my life. 

You’ve already given me so much, Mr. Smith, and it doesn’t feel right to ask for more but I can’t help it. It would feel even less right to graduate without you in the audience, watching me. 

Say you’ll come, won’t you? I know you wish to remain anonymous. Your decision to hide your identity has been my constant turmoil for the last four years and I don’t think I could bear to go out into the world without putting a face and a name to the man who has changed my life completely. 

Please don’t be afraid that you’ll disappoint me. Is it presumptuous to tell you that? For all I know, you don’t care about me one bit and haven’t read a single one of my many, many letters. But if you have, and if you have found any meaning in them at all, please tell me you’ll come. I already love you with all my heart. 

If you are brave enough to come, I have included in this envelope the invitation. Matthew and Marilla regrettably can’t make it so if you come, you’ll be the only one there specifically for me. If you aren’t, then I’ll try to forgive you. I’m not sure I’ll be able to, but I’ll really, really try. 

Hoping to see you soon, 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert

~

“Perhaps he’s running late.”

Anne slumped against the stage wall. “There’s no use. He isn't coming." 

Diana pulled back an inch of the stage's curtain once more. She must have seen the same empty seat as before, as she said, "I'm very sorry, Anne."

"What are you two up to?" 

Anne and Diana turned to see Gilbert, dressed in the same black and white graduation robes as them. 

"We're trying to see if Anne's benefactor has shown up," Diana informed him.

Gilbert adopted a pained expression, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "No luck so far, then?"

"The ceremony starts in five minutes," said Anne miserably. "He isn't coming. I don't know why I expected any different. I've written him for four years with barely any response. I'm a fool for thinking today would be any different."

Diana crouched next to her, placing a reassuring hand on her back. "You're not a fool, Anne."

"Perhaps he got called away on urgent business," said Gilbert, with a tone perhaps meant to be reassuring but that came out with a slight irritation. "You never know."

"He's a coward," Anne declared, crossing her arms. "He never cared about me at all."

"You can't possibly know that," Gilbert said. 

"Yes, I can. I can just feel it."

Gilbert infuriatingly pointed out, "Just last month you could feel that he was a kindred spirit."

"Would you stop taking his side?" 

"I'm not taking his side," Gilbert insisted. "But perhaps your day wouldn't be ruined if you tried to consider things from his perspective—" 

"I'm glad to graduate. Then I can finally wash my hands of rich men trying to control my life!"

Gilbert was quiet for a moment. "Is that all you think of me? Just another rich man controlling your life?"

Anne huffed but before she could respond, the professor organizing students called for graduates with B last names. 

Diana stood up next to Anne. "We should probably go line up, Gilbert." 

As they walked away, Diana turned around to shake her head at the other girl, sympathetic but disapproving, a look Anne had been on the receiving end of many times over their nine years of friendship. 

Anne tried to compose herself after that, tried to still enjoy the moment she had anticipated for all her life. But as she walked across the stage, she couldn't stop her eyes from stinging or her heart from aching. 

~

After the ceremony, the University arranged for a banquet of sorts for the recent graduates and their families. When picturing the moment in her head in the weeks prior, Anne had imagined her and her benefactor, who showed up perfectly on time for her graduation and had instantly turned into a grandfather of sorts, walking arm and arm through the crowd so she could introduce him to all of the people she had mentioned in her letters over the years. But in the face of the actual thing without any new friend or grandfather figure, Anne wished to skip the ordeal altogether. 

Still, she had watched the graduations of other students older than her with jealousy for three years, anticipating her own shining moment. So Anne changed out of her robes, put on the new dress Marilla sent her as an apology for not being able to attend, a beautiful, soft blue thing, and resolved to enjoy herself. If she had to avoid Gilbert, then so be it. 

Anne, Diana, and Diana's family sat at a large table under the largest white tent that Anne had ever seen. The sunset cast a pink and orange glow about everything and the faintest chill of evening air had begun to take hold, bringing a divine atmosphere to the banquet. Anne had almost started to relax when Gilbert approached their table. He had something in his hand which he seemed insistent on hiding behind his back.  

He first greeted the Barrys, who always loved Gilbert Blythe, and then turned to Anne. "I was wondering if we could talk." 

Anne swallowed and nodded. Gilbert led her to a bench under a tree, away from the crowds of people. 

"Look, Gilbert, if this is about earlier today, before the ceremony..." Anne was quick to say, "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I had a horrible moment and ruined the day for you, too."

Gilbert shook his head. "I was trying to comfort you, but I only made things worse. And truly I am sorry that you were disappointed so sorely today."

"You aren't to blame," Anne told him. "It's Mr. Smith that I'm the most angry with."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Well, I didn't bring you here to apologize. I mean not just to apologize. I mean— these are for you."

He held out a bouquet of flowers, beautiful pink camellias, which Anne only now noticed were the object he hid behind his back. 

"Oh, Gilbert, these are beautiful," she told him, eagerly taking the bouquet from his hands. "This is the most lovely apology I've ever received."

Gilbert looked down, a small smile forming on his mouth. "It's not just an apology. It's also a thank you." Then he looked at her, the smile growing to fullness. "You don't know how... valuable your companionship has been these last four years."

Heat rushed to Anne's cheeks as she thought of her reprehensible behavior towards Gilbert the first few years of her time at the University of Toronto. "Even after how horribly I treated you freshman and sophomore year?"

"I probably deserved that," Gilbert said, laughing. "After I left Avonlea, I barely spent any time with people my own age who didn't own at least three homes. I'm afraid I often forgot to act around normal people."

"Still, I could have been a little less harsh." 

"Perhaps that's true."

"So I'm a normal person, then?"

"You're anything but, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert." 

They were quiet for a moment. The wind rustled the leaves of the tree above them as the final few rays of sun sunk below the horizon. 

Suddenly, Anne had to ask a question with an urgency that surprised her. "Gilbert," she said. "This isn't a goodbye, is it?"

He looked at her in surprise. "No. Never." 

"Oh. Good," Anne said, relieved. 

Gilbert looked like he was about to say something, but at that moment a little girl with light brown skin and curly black hair ran up to him. She couldn't have been more than four. He laughed, picking the little girl up.

"Who is this?" asked Anne, not thinking about how disappointed she felt in that moment. 

"This is Delly, my friend's daughter," Gilbert said. He stood up and sighed. "I should probably get her back to her family."

Anne stood up as well. "Yes, probably." 

He walked a few steps away before turning around. Again, he looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he picked up Anne's hand with his free one and kissed it. "I'm really proud of you, Anne."

Her heart beating loudly in her ears prevented her from making any response, and she was only able to watch him walk away, back to the crowds of people, as she tried to reckon with her own feelings. 

~

A | S | C

1 June, 1904

To my forgiven benefactor, 

I know I said that the last letter would be the last letter. I had thought that because I had imagined the last week would go a lot differently than it has. 

If you had come to my graduation, there would have been no reason to continue sending letters in this manner. As I intend to stay in Toronto for the foreseeable future, I had pictured us having tea once a week and discussing books and my writing and the weather or any number of other things. But, as we both know, you did not attend. Before it happened, I had thought that I could never forgive your absence. I know I said that I would try but I was already certain that I wouldn't be able to forgive you. But I have surprised even myself. 

I have realized that I don't know you at all, Mr. Smith, and have made my peace with this. I didn't come to this conclusion easily, that much is certain. I haven't the faintest idea why you never wanted to write back to me, or why you didn't come to my graduation. Perhaps you were busy. Perhaps you have not read a single letter I've sent. Perhaps you were as scared to meet me as I was to meet you. Whatever the reason, I'm afraid I have lost sight of everything you've given me. If our relationship, however one-sided it is, ends with scorn, then every time I think about University and all of the opportunities it has afforded me I would have to think about my anger. A younger Anne would have been content to live that life, but I certainly am not. So there you are, Mr. Smith. This young, foolish girl forgives you. 

I've only now realized how valuable writing these letters has been for my personal development. You are my closest confidant. You know things about me that even Diana doesn't know, which is saying a lot. Had you responded, then I doubt that I would have been as honest as I was. If you'll allow me to be honest one more time, I have quite the dilemma. You see, these letters have allowed me to sort through confusing feelings and I feel more confused right now than I had ever been. 

You see, Mr. Smith, I think I am in love. I wish you could help me. I could use some wisdom right now. As much as I have longed to be in love my whole life, I never thought to think about what it would actually be like. 

When I'm with him, time doesn't exist anymore. And then he leaves, I'm aware of how quickly time passes by and I want to sob. I want to share everything there is. I want him to be there in the morning when I make porridge and I want to be there with him when he's doing the most boring business possible. Every time I read a good book, or think a funny thought, I wish he was next to me so I can tell him about it. At night I hate the moonlight because it's beautiful and he isn't here to see it with me. Do you understand what I mean? I really, really hope that you do. I think anyone who has ever been in love would understand. 

Here is my problem and the source of my anguish: the man I am in love with is Gilbert Blythe. This may come as a shock to you, since I have frequently spoken ill of him in my letters. For this very reason, I am afraid I preemptively damaged my relationship with him permanently. We have since become close friends, but how could he forget how horrid I was to him, enough to love me back? I'm sure he'll also want to be with a distinguished woman from wealth, like that beautiful Winifred Rose I spotted him walking arm-in-arm with last February. I will forever be the red headed orphan girl who slapped him with a slate when I was thirteen. 

I know you won't respond, but I still have to ask you. What do you think I should do? If you could just read this letter and think your answer really, really hard then I am certain I will feel better. 

I will miss writing these letters and I will miss you, Mr. Smith. I will continue to think of you every day of my life. 

Sending you all the love in my heart, 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert

P.S. In this envelope I have included my final transcripts as well as a check for $100. The check is not for much compared to all that you've given me but it's a start and I intend to pay you back every penny that you have spent on me. I received a small sum of money for a short story that will be published soon, and it's a start. 

P.P.S. Did you notice my new stationery? I bought it myself also with the money from the advance. 

A | S | C

6 June 1904

Dear Mr. Smith, 

YES! I will be there— Saturday at noon. I can’t believe that I am finally going to meet you. It doesn’t feel real. 

Love, love, love, 

Anne

~

Once Anne arrived at the address told to her by Mr. Smith, she recognized the building as the tea place she, Diana, and Gilbert went to nearly twice a week during the Fall term. Had her and her benefactor ever been there at the same time? Had they ever crossed paths before, said hello to each other on the street without knowing each others' identity? For the first time in nearly four years, how close they lived to each other truly struck Anne. She knew he lived in Toronto, even knew what street he lived on thanks to the return address on the stationery he sent her every birthday. But they knew about the same businesses, ate at the same places! 

All that time being so close and yet he still never made an effort to visit. Anne wondered if she would come to regret her choice to meet Mr. Smith here today. But she was too curious and had come so far. So she pushed her shoulders back in resolve and entered the tea house with as much confidence as she could muster. 

A waiter in a nice blue jacket greeted her immediately. 

"I'm here to meet with Mr. Smith," she told him.

Comprehension bloomed on the waiter's face. "You must be Ms. Shirley, then. Follow me."

He escorted her past large rooms with tables full of people eating lunch, past the kitchen door, past the restrooms, to a private tea room with a large window facing the park across the street. A large table sat in front of the window, meant to accommodate a large party of people. A single figure stood in the window, a silhouette in the face of the bright sunlight that streamed inside. This was it. She would finally meet her benefactor. Anne's heart stopped as the man slowly turned around. Only, when he did, he wasn't Mr. Smith. He wasn't even an old man. 

He was Gilbert Blythe. 

"Gilbert?" Anne cried. "What are you doing here? 

"Hello, Anne." He swallowed visibly. 

"You must leave now. I'm meeting someone very important and undoubtedly he'll be here soon, so if you could—"

"I know," Gilbert said. 

"If you know, then you know why you must leave," Anne told him, irritation setting him. She approached him to try and push him towards the door. "How you could possibly know is another thing. Did Diana tell you? I told her not to tell anyone."

"No, Anne—" He paused, firm in his footing and grabbed her gently by the shoulders. "I know why you're here because you're here to see me. I sent you that letter."

"Did you impersonate Mr. Smith?" 

"No, what I'm trying to tell you is..." he dropped his hands from her shoulders and moved one to scratch at the back of his head. "I couldn't impersonate Mr. Smith. Because he's me."

Well. Anne wasn't expecting that. She stopped in her tracks, mouth agape. 

"Please, say something," Gilbert begged, a tremor to his voice. 

"You?" was all that she could get out. 

"You're Mr. Smith." 

Blood rushed to Anne's face and she felt her heart and breath speed up dangerously. She grasped the back of a chair, tightly clutching the wood. 

Gilbert pulled out another chair. "Perhaps you should sit down." 

She did take a seat, but it wasn't the one he offered. "You're my mysterious, anonymous benefactor."

He gave a feeble laugh. "One in the same." 

"I don't understand. How can you be Mr. Smith? You're not even old."

Sitting next to her, Gilbert said, "I never understood why you always wrote about my old age. I certainly never said that." 

"Rich men who give orphan girls enormous scholarships are old. That just makes sense," Anne told him, nearing hysteria. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "They aren't pre-medical students I hit with a slate when I was thirteen!" 

"I owe you an explanation. That's why I—"

Anne's hands flew to her mouth in shock. "My goodness, the letters! Every horrible thing in the world about you I wrote in those letters!"

"You said a lot of things to me in person, too," Gilbert pointed out dryly.

"That's different! I didn't know I was insulting my benefactor to his face!" If it were possible, Anne felt her face growing even warmer. She surely looked like a tomato, with her face red enough to match her hair. "And you read my letters?"

"Every single one. They were the best part of my month."

"Every single one?" Anne echoed. "I suppose there's no hope that you skipped the last one, then?"

"I meant every one." 

She buried her face into the table. "If Mr. Smith had been my matron from the orphanage, it would have been easier to take."

He patted her back awkwardly. "Well, I'm not so bad, am I?"

Anne wanted to scream, taking a deep breath to avoid doing so. "Could you just promise to forget about the last letter and never mention it ever again?"

"I'm afraid I could never do that, Anne." 

"And why not?"

"Well, I— I just couldn't." 

"Why would you do this, Gilbert? I can't wrap my mind around it. I just don't understand."

Leaning back in his chair, Gilbert paused a moment before saying, "You wouldn't have let me pay for your education any other way."

"You still should have asked."

"Maybe so," Gilbert said. "But come on, Anne, I've known how stubborn you are since we were kids. I had the bruises to prove it. And when I heard that you had been accepted into the U of T but couldn't go because of money, well, I had to help."

"But why me?" Anne asked him. 

"You deserved it. And, well, maybe I was selfish."

"Selfish?"

He took a deep breath. "Maybe because I knew I was also going to Toronto. And maybe I wanted you there, too."

Anne didn't know at all how to respond to that. Her mind raced, replaying every moment they shared over the last few years. How her benefactor happened to know her birthday, when Gilbert had bumped into her at her own birthday party. How her benefactor didn't come to her graduation, when Gilbert was graduating himself. They even lived on the same street. Of course Gilbert was her benefactor. It made sense. 

"Why did you agree to meet now? Why not before?"

Gilbert exhaled loudly. "You don't know how many times I almost told you, or how many letters I started to draft but threw away before I could. I didn't know if I should be Mr. Smith telling you I'm Gilbert, or if I should be Gilbert telling you I'm Mr. Smith."

"Mr. Smith doesn't exist," she said. 

That made Gilbert go quiet. "I suppose he's not," he said finally. "Are you terribly mad at me?"

Anne sighed. "You lied to me and betrayed my trust for four years. I don't know how I could ever forget that."

"And yet?"

"And yet..." Anne was surprised to feel a smile forming and at last she laughed. "It's you, it's really you."

Hope or something like it bloomed on Gilbert's face. He grabbed her hand.

Anne told him, "You never answered my question."

Gilbert took a shaky breath. "Because," he said, "When I read your last letter, I realized you needed to know everything before I did this."

"Did what?" she asked, but she knew he was already leaning in. 

Gilbert kissed Anne, and while Anne had imagined her first kiss much more chaste, she put all of the emotions she felt into it. When they pulled back, Gilbert had a goofy grin adoring his mouth that she was sure matched her own. 

"Anne," he said urgently. "I love you."

"I'd tell you the same," she said, "but something tells me you already know."

~

YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED 

TO THE WEDDING OF 

ANNE SHIRLEY-CUTHBERT

and

GILBERT BLYTHE

Saturday, October 4, 1904

3 o’clock in the afternoon

At the St. Andrew’s Church

Toronto, Ontario

Reception to follow.

 / fin

[rileymoreno]

LORENZO ZURZOLO / CIS MALE — don’t look now, but is that riley moreno i see? the 22 year old art history student is in their junior year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be sociable, liberal, self absorbed and disloyal, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for himself living in griffin street. ( alli. ancient. cst. she/her. ) 

sneaks past the bars of my cell that i’ve been living in and also sneaks into the bars of this group ... it’s alli yahoy. a lot of you might remember me from some of my Greatest Hits including caleb montgomery, jack hall, and naomi page ( this would be a really terrifying discography ) but if not !! fear not. this is a brand new muse i have crafted for this comeback and he sucks just as much as any of my muses do. SO WITH THAT KIND INTRO ... more about riley under the cut ! 

BIOGRAPHY.

born in new jersey, right outside of new york city, to parents marcel and grenalda moreno, orion moreno was a happy child. he was their fourth and final moreno sibling. 

his siblings are leopold moreno (24), lyra moreno (24), and caelum moreno (30). he was relatively close to the twins growing up due to the small gap in their ages, but caelum was always difficult to get along with. 

grenalda was an astronomer and often traveled for work, leaving the children with marcel. he wasn’t an unkind father, but he was tough on his boys (there was no doubt lyra was his favorite). riley grew to be quite quiet, somewhat uncomfortable expressing himself as he learned to fear rejection from his close knit family. 

in school, riley didn’t do particularly well. he had trouble focusing due to an increasing adhd problem his family failed to address, and he didn’t make friends easily. for while he was shy with everyone, it seemed, but the twins. 

his mom lost her job when he was in high school. this put a strain on the family’s finances, despite his father’s office job, and forced the moreno siblings still living at home to work jobs to help out. riley didn’t have much of a life outside of school and work. 

his lack of a social life, and general disinterest in having one at all, lead his peers to find him rather uninteresting. most of the kids who went to school with him would likely tell you they didn’t know he existed. 

his love for music was what finally broke the shy boy out of his shell. he took time off from his job as a grocery store clerk to play in several different local bands, much to his family’s disapproval, and he slowly grew less and less reserved, more ‘himself.’ 

he was in trouble with the law a lot his last year of high school. he was involved with the town’s more seedy underbelly thanks to a few of his bandmates. still didn’t do well in school but took to all night benders with ease

“it’s a shame, what happened to the youngest moreno boy. he used to be such a good kid.” 

he grew surprisingly close to his mother before leaving for lockwood. he knew he would miss her dearly living across the country, but he had always known he wanted to move far, far away from those who knew him before he knew himself. 

free tuition was not something he or his siblings were in the place to turn down.

HEADCANNONS.

his reputation might be rubbish but he’s not mean spirited. outgoing, loud, and generally humourous, riley is easily noticed in a room and he knows it. 

likes to pretend he doesn’t care at all, but really he super super cares. about everything. 

his best friend is his cat, reptile. it’s a black cat, as if there was any doubt 

a big romantic, he’s always claiming he’s in love or fawning over someone. he’s really bad at being monogamous, though. falls in love with strangers so so often 

plays guitar in a really shitty local band 

drugs sex and rock and roll 

also mega eboy. would probably strive for tik tok fame if he knew how to work technology (he doesn’t)

definitely in the anime club. it’s also the only organized group he would ever join

WANTED CONNECTIONS. 

roommates -- maybe an odd couple kind of relationship where they are COMICALLY different, or maybe a ‘ i don’t even know your last name stranger in my home ’, or of course ride or die best friends don’t mess with my baby hozier 

bandmates -- if your muse is musical // maybe even completely terrible bc. to be frank. this band sucks. and wants to play in said rat band 

buddies -- any and all types of friendships. seriously any. hs friends who knew shy lil riley, met in lockwood and have been close ever since, we always go to the same bars so we started going to them together, your friend knows my friend who knows our other friend so i guess we’re friends??, truly best of friends love each other support each other riley probably wrote a song about them 

romantic -- again.. anything. he has a list of exes a million pages long. he probably hates most of them because he gets way too attached. says he doesn’t ‘just hook up’ but he does he’s a liar. riley fawning over your muse, sending them love letters over text or email or twitter dm. riley claiming he hates your muse just to deny the fact that he has, in fact, caught feelings again. i want to punch u in the face but u look really cute rn maybe i’ll kiss you instead. send all dynamics my way.. 

family -- cousins ! i might post his middle siblings as wanted connections but he loves them ! he loves his cousins he has so many he’s from a giant family ! weird kind of cousins, by marriage and then divorce, but we grew up together sometimes. know riley as the shy little boy who followed everyone around and probably ate dirt. 

anything. else. send me all of your unfulfilled connections and i can shove riley into said slot ! 

like this here post and i’ll dm u aggressively

[b0rtney]

Why I Do What I Do: 1. A Human Being with a Place of Birth

You can’t know where you’re going without knowing where you’re from, so today I’ll talk a little bit about where I’m from, and why I do what I do. This first part is about where I’m from as a human being.

I was born and raised in a nice little suburb of Missouri, about twenty minutes from downtown St. Louis. 

For kindergarten, I went to a nice Henry school and attended a nice Baptist church on Sundays, and maybe one other day of the week if I’m remembering that right. These were the kinds of places that would make any moderate person’s skin crawl. My older sister would scream and pout when my parents wrestled her into a church dress, but it would be a scandal if she tried wearing pants– that kind of place. My parents got divorced when I was six or seven, and that kind of thing had every person in that church turning their backs on my family, the fact that my mom soon began working to support me and my siblings was, I’m sure, the talk of the congregation for a little while– that kind of place. 

After my parents got divorced, I switched to another nice Henry school, and I moved to new houses: one for each parent. That nice Henry school didn’t work out for long. My mom couldn’t stand Henryity in almost any form anymore. And the tuition was too expensive for an electrician with a declining business and a brand-new real estate agent in 2007. So, public schools. My dad was zoned for a school with the best public schools around, so we used his address. Kehrs Mill Elementary was where I went starting in second grade, and where my brother went starting in Kindergarten. My sister started sixth grade at Crestview Middle. 

I went about half the year friendless in second grade, and then I met Fernanda. She was the only Hispanic girl in the whole school (there was one Philipino boy, two Chinese girls, an Indian girl, a Middle Eastern boy, and everyone else was African American or Caucasian). She, kind of literally, yanked me by the arm and dragged me into friendship, and I’d never been happier. We played Warrior cats (yes, based on the books, don’t look at me like that every school had some kids that did it… although I think the part where we lapped water out of the sink and hissed at her mom was a little weird). We made up a version of “Cowboys and Indians” where we would be two Chieftesses with inexplicable numbers of children and no husbands, facing moral dilemmas like what to do with prisoners of war when they won’t hear of peace– while our brothers (my one and her two) tried to shoot at us with Nerf guns. 

At this point, if you had asked me what I wanted to do with my life, I would have told you what I considered an impossible joke: I wanted to marry a woman, run an orphanage, adopt a bunch of teenagers and babies, and drive a van big enough to fit everyone in it when we went grocery shopping together. 

In third grade I took a long test in the school’s brand-new computer lab and I scored so well that they took me, once a week, on Wednesdays, to a different campus with other kids that scored really well on that test and we learned about lazers and climate change and cloning and other things for “gifted” kids. But otherwise, third grade passed in much the same way as second grade, but nothing exists without complications and so there came along a boy named Henry. He was new to school and he had what could have been called a cool haircut, for 2009, and Fernanda loved him. I didn’t. But she did, so I thought it was normal to like a boy, so I said I liked him too. And then he said he liked me better than her because she was weird and I kicked him in the shin and said something mean that I don’t remember anymore. But Fernanda didn’t like that, and she didn’t like me. So at the beginning of fourth grade she told me she wasn’t going to be my friend this year so that she could try being friends with someone else. 

So, I was alone again in fourth grade, for a minute. But by this time my real estate-mom had moved us to house number three (four, maybe?) since the divorce: a condo with blue carpets and mostly old people living there. This was where I met Branch, a kid from my class who visited his grandma in the condo directly above us. Branch and I each had a little brother, and by now my sister had taken to locking herself in her room and not talking to anyone, so Branch and me and our little brothers played “Hup-hups,” a war game where there were two sides, each with a commander and an infantryman who would respond to commands like “stay,” “go,” “attack,” and “attention.” It was pretty fun, so Branch told his friends at school about it, and they all wanted to join my faction, and this went on like a domino effect until I was running an army comprised of something like 30-50 fourth-grade boys, depending on the day, at recess. I don’t think I realized how weird that was at the time. We mostly just screwed around until another boy formed an oppositional army, calling themselves the Arachnids, because that was just about the biggest word you could know in fourth grade, and they started guerilla warfare. They would just straight-up attack us and try to hurt us. I would scream at the boys following me to run away, because I never wanted anyone to get hurt, but then the oppositional army leader had his arm around my throat and I was choking so I couldn’t yell very loud, and all the boys on my side just went to town attacking the Arachnids back. Somehow, none of the recess monitors– these were two grouchy old women who would always yell at me and Fernanda for trying to climb the trees– ever saw this, or stopped it. The violence continued until people got tired of it, and by the end of the year I was alone again.

Fifth grade was when the depression I’d had since I can remember really kicked it up a notch. It should be noted that I had no idea what depression was. I thought it was normal to just not want to get out of bed in the morning, to want to die all the time, to dig needles into your skin and try to make yourself bleed because at least then you have control over something. By then my mom had moved to house number five, within walking distance from the school, so my brother and I would walk together every morning. I made one new friend, named John, and he talked me out of suicide not once but twice, once by yelling at me over the phone and once by just existing, which is very impressive for a fifth grader, if I’m honest, but also I think I’ll always feel a little horrible for putting that pressure on him. I convinced myself that I loved him, at the time. 

You may be noticing a pattern with me and boys, but we’re not quite there yet. 

Of course, between fifth and sixth grade my family picked up and moved across the country from Missouri to Southern California.

I spent sixth grade and most of seventh grade friendless, and met a few friends in eighth grade– two of those friends are still with me to this day. In eighth grade I met a girl named Chloe, who had three pregnancy scares in a year and who convinced me to make out with her in a pillow fort in the room I shared with my sister while my sister was out with her boyfriend– and that was the first kiss I ever had and it felt like liquid lightning in my veins. But in eighth grade I also listened to my Republican parents on the matter of gay rights– of course, I barely knew what gay was, I just knew it was something you called people you didn’t like because that’s all that a Missouri elementary school teaches you about it– and so I thought gay people were a little gross, and I was a little gross for liking it when I kissed a girl, and I buried that part of me. In eighth grade I also met the boy who would be the first one I would date: Chris. I dated him from the middle of freshman year to the end of sophomore year in high school. We went on a few awkward dates, we held hands even though his were sweaty and we couldn’t get the timing right, we kissed even though it felt about as exciting as eating plain bread– not exactly bad, just not exciting or fun. 

Now the pattern might seem more clear. It certainly became very clear to me. 

I didn’t like boys. I like girls. I’ve liked girls since forever, and no amount of shame or repression was going to “fix” me because I. Wasn’t. Broken. I was depressed and I was anxiety-ridden and I was introverted maybe a little too much, but being homosexual was never an issue. 

I broke up with my boyfriend. I came out to my friends, then my siblings, then my parents, then everyone else. I had a girlfriend, and she lost interest, so I broke it off. I had another girlfriend, but I had never been interested, so I broke it off. Then I put dating aside. 

I continued to get straight As in school, take all the AP classes, run three clubs, rank nationally for field hockey goalies, help a friend of mine transition from straight girl to gay girl to nonbinary kid to straight boy, and accumulate a solid group of five friends. 

Then I got rejected from every college I applied to because of a clerical error I didn’t know about until a year later (after appeals were already a lost cause), so I got a job, I went to a community college, tried to go for a business degree and hated it, switched to a creative writing degree, and now here we are! With my applications submitted and one acceptance in the bag (thank you, University of Iowa!), now I want to focus on my writing and try to get published next.

Now that you know where I’m from, you know at least a little of what I care about. I deal a lot with mental health, so does my writing. My sexuality was a major unknown for me for a large portion of my life, so I include that a lot in the hopes that I can help someone else not be so lost with that. My hometown had very little racial diversity, so I want to represent more diversity in my writing. 

But I don’t want to get ahead of myself: in the coming posts, I’ll show you what I’ve written and read, so you can have a better idea of where I’m coming from as a writer, now that you know where I’m coming from as a person. 

[ca1e70-deactivated]

a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:

name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity

im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years. 

i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)

whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)

ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might “develop it in my twenties” which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS

i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like “why dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champ” and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritism 

the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went “huh free game” because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid. 

im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsis 

i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*’s city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years later 

i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth “beth” davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.

talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves “lying” or “hiding things” from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his “rap career”)

every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best. 

one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went “she has potential, you know.” then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile “lots of it” and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)

theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever. 

he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.

i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment) 

im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OH 

hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.

ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.

the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair. 

he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going. 

THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY

[crystal-snowing]

worthy | kim namjoon

summary: no matter what everyone else thought, kim namjoon always knew that you were the one for him.

genre: angst/fluff

a/n: sorry, i haven’t posted in so long !

You have always questioned whether it was possible to be both intelligent and popular in high school, and it seemed that Kim Namjoon was the living answer to your question. Hands down he was one of the most attractive guys in the school, with light brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, and toned body were enough to swoon a majority of the students at the school—both male and female. As if that wasn’t enough, his grade point average was through the roof that it seemed impossible for someone who was that intelligent to even be going to your school. While, BigHit Academy was not necessarily a public school, it was not exactly a private school either. You would assume that private schools would hold their students to higher standards, and yet you have so many classmates that you could use as examples for where the Academy went wrong. But he wasn’t like any of them, instead, he was the epitome of a model student. His grades were stellar, but on top of that he managed to be class president, president of three other clubs at the school, captain of the volleyball and swimming team, and still managed to do some other volunteering work on the side. He was the one that every parent wanted their child to be like, the beautifully perfect high school senior.

In short—Kim Namjoon was both a heartthrob and genius, and your crush for the last four years of high school.

You had transferred from to BigHit Academy in your sophomore year, your parents somehow managing to scrape together enough money in order to afford your tuition for the first year. By no means were you as wealthy as any of the students here, nor did you have the intelligence to pass the exam needed for a scholarship—instead, you were merely a child from a struggling family who wanted to see their son/daughter become something of themselves. They did the best that they could, splurging a bit on makeup or accessories to help you blend in with the rest of the ultra-rich students that attended that school, even buying you a brand new jacket to help keep you warm in the winter.

Upon arriving at the school, you immediately knew that you stuck out like a sore thumb. There was something in the way that everyone in the school seemed to carry themselves, a trait that you, as a new student, were not accustomed to yet. Of course, the school system is not allowed to disclose the financial information or socioeconomic background, but like every school, word somehow always ends up leaking out. That’s when the rumors started. The whispers as you walked quickly down the hall, the sea of students parting as they stood against the lockers and walls—their mouths moving a mile a minute, watching you with their piercing gazes—they were the vultures and you were the prey. And the torment only seemed to escalate from there, for once they stopped being afraid of attacking, did their abuse become incessant. You never could go anywhere inside the school without having an insult or two directed your way, each becoming more vicious than the last. They tormented you for everything, from the fact that your parents were poor, the fact that your grades were poor, your makeup, your appearance, your uniform—absolutely nothing was safe from their scrutiny.

There were times where you often loathed your parents, the people who did their best for you every day in order to send you to that elite school. But during your first year at BigHit Academy you would get into so many fights with them, which stemmed from your “lack of effort in school” and your poor grades, which soon escalated into you ranting about how you never asked to be sent to that school and how you were perfectly happy and fine back in your town’s dingy and under-funded high school. In the end, you always regretted lashing out at them, they have done nothing but support you from day one and this was no way of showing your gratitude.

Which was why, as soon as school was released for the summer, you vowed that you would become a better person, not only for yourself but for your parents as well. On top of maintaining a job at a local cafe, you did your best to study—SATs, ACTs, and APs were constant deadlines that loomed over you, and not only were you determined to pass them (that was simply not enough anymore) you were determined to ace them. And through all of this hard work, you developed a new attitude—a new outlook on life and on yourself. At this point you gave zero fucks to whatever rumors and attitudes other students had towards you at school, all you cared about from now on was making your parents proud, making sure that their hard work was not in vain.

And as you marched into the front doors of your high school, you and everyone around you knew that you were not same person from sophomore year.

Visually there was something about you that changed, perhaps it was the effects of puberty taking effect on your body, as you grew a bit taller and your skin cleared up a bit from last year, or maybe it was the way that you carried yourself—strong, confident, and with a resting stoic expression.  No longer were you at the end of all their jokes and bullying, no, this year you were flourishing—and you made sure that everyone at that damn school knew it as well. You implemented small changes here and there, such as raising your hand and participating in class, joining extracurriculars and clubs, as well as making sure the teacher announced your name every time you received the highest grade in the class. Slowly but surely, you began digging yourself out of the grave that you dug yourself last year, raising your rank from one of the worst in school, to be second best—but even then, that still wasn’t good enough for you.

No, you wanted to be number one, and you were determined to get the spot no matter the cost. But, there was only one thing (or rather person) standing in your way, and his name was Kim Namjoon.

Oh boy, did you have a lot to say about him, but there were only two main points that you needed to address: one, that you might have a massive crush on him and two, that he absolutely despised you. Those two statements were quite an odd combination together, but in your defense you have admired Kim Namjoon ever since the two of you were in middle school and your friend dragged you to the championship volleyball game for the school—the same game that he managed to score the winning spike that the team needed to win the state championship. You were not petty, not only did you like him for his looks and athletic ability, but everything about him just seemed to attract you like a magnet. The two of you have talked a bit with each other, but most of the time you could distinctly remember him inside the school library—long after the rest of the school had closed down for day—hunched over a mountain of textbooks as he printed in his neat handwriting across the pages. You were not sure what it as about this that drew you in, perhaps it was the way the light from the adjacent windows fall on him, or the peaceful look that was displayed across his soft features, or maybe it was the way he stuck his tongue out just a bit as he concentrated on his work.

Whatever it was, you knew that you were whipped for Kim Namjoon, but the only problem was the fact that the two of you lived completely different lifestyles. He was flawless to say the least, perfect grades, perfect face, perfect body—perfect life, which contrasted so sharply from your own. It would be kind of embarrassing for him if anyone found out that you had a crush on him, after all you were a nothing more than a simpleton in comparison to his god-like persona. Even worse, if word got out, not only would it ruin your life, but also his, after all, nobody wants a loser to be crushing on them. This was why you were determined to be best the version of yourself, not only so you could fulfill your parents’ desires of becoming successful in life, but also somehow make yourself worthy of being liked by the one and only Kim Namjoon.

By the time senior year rolled around, you didn’t need to work any harder in order for Kim Namjoon to recognize you—he knew exactly who you were. His closest friends practically knew everything about you, and in all honesty were sick of hearing your name, since everyday at lunch he would practically slam his textbooks down on the table and proceed to rant about how much he absolutely despised you. It was practically beneath him to be fighting for the number one spot in the school against you, and it appalled him to think that you even stood a good chance at beating him in certain subjects. No matter how much Kim Namjoon radiated perfection, he was only human and prone to making mistakes, and this will inevitably cost him the number one spot—a place that you wouldn't mind greedily taking from him. He hated you, despised you—or at least that’s what he told himself, when in reality he couldn't actually bring himself to actually genuinely feel those types of feelings for you. In fact, he remembers you, from before puberty hit you like a fucking freight train, before when you were just ordinary [Y/N] [L/N], someone that he couldn't help but admire from afar.

It was hilarious and if anyone could have seen him back then, they would be hysterical, the Kim Namjoon, afraid and embarrassed to ask someone out—surely that would be the day. And yet everyday you were near he couldn't bring himself to approach you, and deep down he had to admit to himself that he was a coward. He knew about the abuse that you faced day in and day out by your peers, and even a couple of instances where he saw the instances taking place, yet he couldn't force his feet to move as he was rooted to the ground and forced to watch those atrocities unfold in front of him. He always thought you were beautiful, and the insults that were being thrown your way would never diminish that, in fact  he liked to believe that it actually made you even more breathtaking. But, the two of you were two completely different people, and while you may have your own ambitions and goals, he would couldn’t just sit idly by and let you—his pride was too grandiose to allow that to happen.

“Are you just going to keep staring at me all day, or are we actually going to finish this project?” you huffed, your arms crossed against your chest as you shot him a glare.

Which explains his current situation, sitting across you inside of a random cafe as you both discussed the details of your upcoming project together. It had to be his luck that out of the students in his AP Literature class that he had to end up with you as a partner, and the teacher must have truly despised him—since even after all of his pleading for her to change partners, she simply refused his request. She cited the idea this was a match made in heaven and that it would be idiotic to breakup her two best students for this project.

Namjoon merely scoffed, rolling his eyes at your childish behavior, before pulling out his laptop and pushing aside his lukewarm cup of coffee towards the side of the table, before placing his laptop down and opening it.

“You wish, the sooner we get this project over with the better. Now what were you saying about the development Winston Smith’s character?

The second time that you both met the animosity and tension in the air was still at an all time high. This time you both met at the school's library, sitting across from each other which your belongings barely even touching. Talking was kept to a minimum, the two of you too focused on looking preoccupied so that the other would not ask any questions or attempt to make small talk. Ideally, it wasn't the best situation but neither of you were willing to be the bigger person and but all of these negative feelings behind you. Instead you both wanted to play the blame game, shifting it on one another for causing this pent up tension to build, yet you knew it was no one else's fault besides your own.

He told himself that he was merely being practical, after all, how was it possible for anyone to get work done in this type of environment, by pushing aside your things and sitting right next to you, he assumed that this would improve the productivity level between the two of you—after all, the sooner you both finished this project, the better. Yet he never anticipated that something would snap between the two of you, sure, there was banter before—this sort of playful (with harsh undertones) kind of conversation, turned into something more. It took him a while to pinpoint this behavior, a couple more sessions of his leg pressing against yours inside the cafe, or his hand accidentally brushing yours as he reached to grab a paper across the table. The feeling was profound, changing the entire atmosphere around the both of you, and he almost got the feeling that this banter that the two of you exchanged was almost like flirting.

“I get it I’m attractive and all, but I think that presentation needs your attention more than I do,” Namjoon smirked, raising an eyebrow, while you merely scoffed.

“As if I would ever need your attention, I think that coffee must be getting to you because you’re sounding a bit more conceited than usual.”

“Me, conceited? Have you ever heard the things that you say, I swear [F/N] you sure a piece of work.”

“You’re so lucky that I have so much self-control right now, or you would have been slapped a long time ago, Namjoon.”

For the next couple weeks, almost three times a week the two you sat inside the back of the local cafe bickering like an old married couple. And every one of those days for him was insufferable, as kept fighting and retraining himself from wanting to kick you for being so damn annoying. This was the same mantra that he has been telling himself for those couple of weeks, until he came in one day and damn did you piss him off even more than usual that day. It all started after he received his AP Calculus test back learning that he once again lost to you, only scoring the second highest score, and everything seemed to just spiral down from there. During practice, the younger kids had the audacity disrespect him—causing him to become angry and lash out at them. Due to this, he ran late, causing him to become trapped in the rain on his way here and now forcing him to sit here at a table, next to you, while he is soaking wet.

Then when you started bickering with him—he almost lost it. Yet, he knew that he couldn’t say anything without sounding extremely rude and inconsiderate, so he held his tongue. Perhaps it was his exhaustion wearing down on him after a long and stressful day or maybe his need to focus on something in order to keep himself awake through your long explanation of the symbolic references in 1984, but he couldn’t help but notice how adorably kissable your lips looked. The softness of your cupid’s bow, as it softly accentuated the plumpness and fullness of your lips, and he was so close that you that perhaps if he leaned in a bit closer he could almost—

“Are you okay, you look a little flushed?”

Your question snapped him from his thoughts, his eyes soon focusing on your perplexed expression, causing him to jump back in surprise with his chair scraping against the floors of the cafe. His reaction caused you to laugh, the sound tickling his ears and causing his face to feel a bit warm. Those thoughts were invasive, infiltrating his head during completely unnecessary times, and placing him in an awkward position.

Composing himself, he moved his chair closer towards you, laning in until his face was a few centimeters away from yours.

“I’m fine, why are you worried for me? Am I growing on you?”

“No, of course not,” you rolled your eyes before pushing him away from you, “I just don’t need you spreading your bacteria to me, now scoot over a bit, I need some distance between me and your infected ass.”

It wasn’t until much later did he finally reflect on what those possible lingering thoughts could mean, and it was only after hours of endless thinking and pondering did the realization finally dawn on him—my god, he liked you. He liked the way you looked deep in concentration with your tongue peeking slightly through your lips, he liked the way you looked in the sunlight as it radiated off your skin making you look as if you were sparkling, he liked your expression after you finished sassing him, with one of your eyebrows raised, enticing him, egging him on—damn, he was in love with you. He wasn’t sure how it happened, the Kim Namjoon who supposedly everyone in the school had a crush on finally found one person that he felt completed him, and while he was usually calculated about everything that he does, his decision to tell you the next time he saw you was quite impulsive and uncharacteristic of him.

It was day before the project was due, the two of you sitting in that same cafe, you with your tea with cream and sugar sitting next you, while his Americano was left untouched in the corner of the table as you placed finishing touches on the poster aspect of this project while he worked on the powerpoint. Of course, he was barely paying attention to typing, too focused on watching you—some of your hair falling in front of your eyes, as he had the urge to push it out of the way and tuck that strand of hair behind your ear. After feeling his gaze, you looked up and were surprised to find his eyes still not looking away from your face. Already you could feel your neck heating up, as the warmth began to climb up towards your face.

“Look, this is our last day together and if you’re not going to get any work done then you might as well—”

“Go out with me.”

Your lips were parted like a fish, gapping at him as you struggled to comprehend exactly what he said. This couldn’t be real, it had to be some kind of sick and impractical joke, yet as you glanced at his eyes, you could see nothing but sincerity and seriousness engulfing his irises. There was one word that you wanted to scream at him, and you wanted to say it to him over and over again, yet it died in the back of your throat where it belonged. You needed to be practical, and you knew that dating him was perhaps the opposite of that, as you had iterated before, both you and Kim Namjoon lead two completely different lives and two of you would never work out because of this. So you did what you did best—ignore him.

“That’s cute, anyways, I forgot that my parents wanted me home early for dinner tonight, so if that’s all,” you stood up quickly, gathering your belongings as quickly as possible. You knew you needed to get out of there as fast as your legs could carry you, but as you turned your back to him, he grabbed onto your wrist sharply before you could leave.

“Seriously that’s all you have to say to me? I’m giving you my whole heart and all you could say is that’s cute are you kidding me? I want to be with you, [Y/N] not for any other reason than because you make my heart skip whenever your close to me, because my palms get sweaty whenever you’re around, because I want to see you everyday with that breathtaking smile on your face. I don’t care what anyone says about us, if that’s what you’re worried about, they can make up all the rumors and pretend to pass judgement on us, but they don’t know anything,” Namjoon sighed, his hand still holding onto yours.

You couldn’t ignore the hammering of your heart, his loving words leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. Even though you wanted to ignore and deny everything that he said, you knew that his words had weight. He was everything that you wanted and more, and you knew denying this chance would be something that you would regret for the rest of your life—and your done feeling regretful and sorry for yourself.

And you took the plunge.

“One date and we’ll take it from there,” you muttered shyly, the blush back in full force as you watched his face light up by your statement.

Maybe, no matter what anyone thought, you were more than enough for him.

[countjason]

Jason’s 9th Annual Post/Pre-Year Review/Goal

It’s that time of year again, the only reason I have a tumblr account is this annual reflection and goal setting exercise I do each year.  This represents the 9th year I’ve done this in some form or fashion so let’s kick off the goals from last year and where I stand:

Get a new job – This one is important since 90% of my waking existence is at a job.  If I’m not happy there, it’s too my core and I’m not happy in general.  I wish I was better in this area since Caitlin works in the funeral business and has a better appreciation toward the little things but it’s still a thing since it is 90% of my waking life and I’ve worked since I was 16 yrs old.   I would obviously like to get paid what I feel I’m deserved too – not just get a job to get away from another job.  

(Accomplished) – As I recall, this was 90% expected to be achieved at the time I wrote last year’s goals since I was actively looking but this happened REALLY early in 2019.  I remember trying to get a raise as a program manager at Aero Simulation Inc after being a project scheduler (most…boring…job…ever!) and being told I need at least 10 years’ experience in the simulation industry before even being considered.  They handed me an annual raise, sent me off on the 2-week shutdown vacation and the wife and I went to Ashville.  

Upon my return, I got notified that I was hired to start at Smartronix – this hands down was the best timing and possibly the best move I have ever made.  I’m so happy working at Smartronix and working as a real program manager after what felt like an eternity working at places and either doing lesser jobs, jobs I didn’t have any interest in doing all for the sake of paying for my family, being bored to tears, or underappreciated and under paid.  

Vacations – I have a cruise planned in May which is almost paid for and I would like to eventually go to Las Vegas.  I wouldn’t want to go to Vegas without a little money in my pocket, but we’ll see.  I also have the Bristol night race in August which represents the final bucket list race I could want to do with my Dad.  Does that mean I’m done after Bristol? Probably not but I could certainly wish my Dad off should he die knowing I got him there, Talladega, Daytona, Homestead, and Atlanta.

(Accomplished) – I did go on the cruise and that was fun.  It would have been better with the drink package which is just a lesson’s learned for cruising next time but it was a fun experience considering I missed cruises in the past.  I did not go to Vegas and that’s still a hard sell with my wife considering she doesn’t want to go as much as I do.  Maybe I can convince her one day considering all the other vacations we’ve had that were compromises.  

Bristol was everything I expected and more.  

Adam told me that Dad wasn’t doing so well and this race, in all likelihood, represents the last race I go with Dad.  So for this, I booked suites which was the best!  I think Dad and Adam were happy.

School – I got a long way to go for a DBA but I’d like to get the main classes started in 2019.  I gotta wait until money isn’t so tight or there are options like tuition assistance but I’d like to get started in that.

(Failed) – This goal trailed off early after it became apparent I had to still pay for Caitlin’s school.  Now, to be clear, that’s not the only reason, I was sorta going down the DBA route at first because it was something to do since I was getting bored but may get at it again in the future just not now.  I don’t really have a pressing reason for a DBA career wise and there are other fish I could fry which I’ll discuss shortly but let’s put it this way, what I am about to do to cure my boredom is not something my wife is thrilled about….

Find more friends – A lot of my friends 8 years ago I don’t really relate to now.  I’m simply not the same person. Those people, in most cases, are the EXACT same people and we don’t relate.  Going back to 90% of my day with work, I need to find work friends but certainly not at my current job where everyone I work with me is 20 years older than me or are unsociable.  I mean it can’t get any worse than now where I have a co-worker literally 5 feet behind me and insist to communicate primarily through email.  Even if it’s not “work” friends, I need friends that have the same goals, likes, and what not.  That’s why I like people like Eric or James– they have ambition in areas I like today. I still need to find a NASCAR buddy too but that’s surprisingly hard.

(Failed) – I wouldn’t say I gained more friends.  I have the same friends as I previously did and while I get along with people I work with, I wouldn’t go so far as considering them “friends”  

Health – Anyone that says getting older doesn’t suck can blow me.  I know less than 5 years ago, I could run in the morning and had gym buddies which motivated me.  Granted I was walking around like I was crippled half the time afterward, but it was fun.  I really don’t have that same motivation these days.  I still go to the gym periodically but not as I used too.  I joke about my fat head so maybe in 2019, I’ll find that extra gas in the tank and while I’ve accepted not being 180 lbs again, maybe just looking better which will make me feel better as well.  

(Not accomplished but not failed) – I would say it’s improving. Since the wife got pregnant and she had to stop drinking, to support her, I did the same and already lost 20 lbs. I’m pretty sure the rate I’m going I’ll lose another 20lbs by May so while my health improved, early this year, I really didn’t try that hard and my weight reached a point where I started to become self-conscience. This goal always ends up on my list and will likely again.

Financially working in the right direction – To get my house, I had to use retirement money.  To fix the carpet that got destroyed in Caitlin’s library, I had to use more.  I have quite a bit of old debt and new debt that is higher than I like but there’s always been this assumption that I’m just waiting for the right job to pay me what I deserve, AND Caitlin will finally pull her weight since I support her. Once one or both those things happen, we will be able to work off that debt and maybe see the chances of retirement….eventually.  

(Accomplished) – The new job helped out SIGNIFANTLY!  I finally am getting paid what I’m deserved and as such, I feel much better financially.  I still have some debt to pay off and Caitlin is STILL in school but overall, this goal has moved rather well for the things I can do and control.

Potentially Move? – Given the job prospects, I’ve been looking at opportunities to leave Florida. I am so over “hot, humid, high of 100” every-freakin-day.  Part of the upcoming North Carolina trip is to expose Caitlin to the cold. If she tolerates it, the option to move up north is more present. I mean hell, our house is an igloo anyway.  Even still talking about moving north, moving east in Florida has the same possibilities. I know 2019 may be too soon given the dependency I have with Caitlin but given the right situation, it’s entirely possible.

(Failed but…) – With the new job and it being in Tampa, I did not move.  Don’t get me wrong, I still hate the “hot, humid, high of 100” every day but the current salary and baby situation (more on that), changes things a lot.  

Help Caitlin – I could jokingly say “well this is a huge project” but I don’t mean it like that.  She’s been fighting her demons and I’ve been helping.  I would also foresee myself assisting in her passing her classes and exams she needs to take but that’s really all on her and if she asks for it. In all, I just hope to continue to be a good(ish) role-model and help when I can.

(Accomplished…I guess) – Depends on who you ask.  While I did try to help her study from time to time, it wasn’t consistent and it really was something Caitlin should address more than me.  With drinking and the baby, I stopped drinking, as I said, to support and help and I think that’s helping her as well.

Iracing – 2 more to 10…geez, we’re hitting the bottom of the barrel now.  This is just a hobby, be it an expensive hobby I built up, but I hope to continue doing well in the game and not get bored with it lol.  It’s just too expensive to not.

(Failed) – I play it but I haven’t played it like I think I meant to with this goal in mind.  I did get bored with some of it but not for the lack of desire to race, on the contrary, it made me want to race for real.  

House Upgrades – I would like to upgrade the floors in the man cave and the bedroom in 2019.  

This is a lot of work and shifting of things since I have the master bed which is huge in one room and the racing rig and desk in the other.  I have the supplies sitting in the corner collecting dust waiting to be done, but I would need to shift so much around to do it, I’ve told myself it can only be done if we move.  We’ll see, not putting a lot of hope in this one but it’s number 10 on the list.

(Accomplished) – I did complete the floor in the man cave and the bedroom.  

***

Now for 2020 goals and this one has significantly different legs than the last couple years.  

Be a good dad – That’s right all, after 38 years of life, the wife and I decided to become parents.  

At the time of writing this, my wife is 10 weeks pregnant and we’re expecting “baby bat” in July 2020.  We won’t know gender until later but we’ve already started thinking about names (Dante if it’s a boy or Nadja if it’s a girl).  I hope that regardless, we can do this which I think we will.  We’re currently planning on converting the library (Caitlin’s space) into the baby room and starting initial baby stuff now.

Begin my race car career – wait what?  That’s right, after playing iracing for awhile and getting a decent raise at work, I decided to purchase a Legends car and will start my racing career in early 2020.  I started “Head2Bed Racing” as the name of the race “team” in honor of Dad and I look for this to be my new hobby/equivalent to a bowling league.  

http://head2bedracing.com/index.html

My goal is to be in the top 10 in points at season conclusion. I don’t have a goal to win just yet, I’m more concerned with racing and keeping the car under me.  I would hate to damage the car to the point that would end my racing for a while.  I already know I won’t be able to make all the races scheduled and I don’t know how I’m going to drag my wife into this (I hope she does and doesn’t want to leave me – lol). Wish me luck.

Vacation – This is ambiguous.  I don���t have hard plans just yet but I know my window of reasonable opportunity is closing fast with a baby on the way.  I need to talk to Caitlin about this one more but I’d like to find something we can do either before she gets too big and becomes the boulder from Indian Jones... 

or, if we can pawn the baby to one of our parents, do something post pregnancy.  Caitlin’s mom probably wouldn’t mind the later.  

Health – The goal for 2020 given the wife is pregnant and not drinking is get my weight to 225 lbs.  This is for a few reasons – 1) I looked pretty okay at that weight looking at older pictures 2) That will inevitably have impact to racing a Legends Car as my parents so kindly pointed out 3) It’s a reasonable goal that I should be able to accomplish relatively early in 2020.

Professional Development – I state it like that because I don’t exactly know the exact goal to accomplish this.  I don’t want to restart the doctorate program just yet, I don’t know if I’m eligible for the PgMP certificate yet and even if I was, I haven’t committed myself to studying to the level I need to and even if I got it, I don’t know the career impact.  I’ll leave this open ended for now and see what I have to say next year.

Pay off Debt – With the new job, I “should” be able to clear off a lot of debt.  This will help in the goal later in getting Caitlin a new car and a new house before the kid hits 3 years old.  

Friends (again) – I would like to find more friends.  This, in theory, should occur because of the phases in life after getting out of the Navy.  The first phase was my hair-on-fire party all the time phase.  That ended shortly after settling down with Caitlin. Then there was the “retirement” period (I don’t know what to call it) where I stopped going out and the friends I did have before sorta just went away so it was just myself and Caitlin.  With me getting a new hobby here in actual racing, I’m hoping to meet friends that way and with the kid, we may somehow meet other parents and meet people that way too.  Bottom line, I need to be better at these whole “friends” thing.  

I normally try to shoot for 10 but I’m coming up short and I don’t want to set goals for the sake of setting goals.  I already failed several last year so if I focus on what I have coming, I’ll be better suited to accomplish the goals.  So here we go, 2020…another decade.  Let’s do this!

[crazedlunatic]

Blaine Gets Into College

“I’m not going to be nothing.” Blaine said to himself as he sat in the corner booth at a restaurant in downtown Westerville waiting for his parents and grandmother to meet him. It wasn’t like he wanted to meet them or anything, but they knew it would be time for him to get his acceptance letters back from colleges and therefore they wanted to meet to ‘discuss his options.’ Which probably meant that his grandmother was forcing them to financially support him—something that he absolutely detested, but how else would he… well… survive? It wasn’t like he could as Kurt’s parents to support him or anything. He was pretty sure Kurt’s dad didn’t even like like him yet.

Blaine looked down at the three acceptance letters he had brought with him—Duke, UC Santa Barbara, and UCLA. Those were the three schools that wanted to recruit him for soccer and they would therefore be giving him a scholarship if he accepted. He got into two more colleges—OSU and UK, but he didn’t plan to tell his parents that. At least not yet.

The best three soccer schools wanted him. It was everything his father had wanted from him since he turned seven and started playing soccer. Wanted from was more accurate than for because Blaine was pretty sure his dad just wanted in on the money he could possibly make if he went professional.

I still wish you’d let me meet them. You’ve met Dad and Carole. How is that fair? :)

Blaine looked down at the text and shook his head, smiling. Kurt knew things weren’t… normal in Blaine’s home life. They didn’t go into a whole lot of details because Blaine wasn’t comfortable enough to tell too much yet, but he knew that Kurt was really just trying to cheer him up. Kurt probably knew more than he let on. After all, he would always be stressed before and after visits. That always resulted in Kurt trying to cheer him up or distract him—something he appreciated more than Kurt would ever be able to understand. At least he had Kurt to complain to about it now.

Maybe next time you can come. It’ll be a party, Blaine typed back. He knew Kurt would never meet his dad but he wasn’t going to come out and say that. Kurt would surely take it the wrong way.

I don’t think we have the same idea of what a party is, Blaine. But if it ends in more drunk cuddling, I might not argue too much.

“It is incredibly rude to have your phone out on the table in a restaurant, Blaine. What do they teach you at Dalton?”

Blaine slid his phone into his pocket as his grandmother took a seat across from him. “Sorry, grandmother.”

“Your parents will be here shortly. Your father got a little held up at work.” She said, looking around the restaurant. “Did they not even bring you water?”

“I didn’t want anything to drink until I ordered.” Blaine mumbled.

“Talk clearly. You’re not some public school child.”

“I went to public school until ninth grade.”

“Don’t backtalk me. What has gotten into you? A boy gets to the age where he can apply to college and all of a sudden he thinks he can sass his grandmother?”

“Surely Blaine isn’t sassing anybody.”

Blaine stiffened as his father sat directly across from him. He’d really hoped his mother would sit by him… until he remembered otherwise he’d be looking directly at his father.

“How’s that boy?” His mother asked, sliding into the booth next to him and pulling a hair off of his blazer. “Doesn’t he look so adorable in his blazer, Barbra?”

Blaine shrugged his shoulder in an attempt to make her stop. “It’s fine, mom.”

“Clearly your etiquette classes did not pay off.” His grandmother remarked as the waiter came up and took their order.

“A lot of things didn’t.” His father muttered, looking Blaine in the eyes.

“How is that boy?” His mother repeated and Blaine resisted the urge to cringe.

“What boy?” Blaine asked distractedly, looking around the restaurant confused.

“I heard him on the other side of the phone the other day, Blaine. Don’t treat me like I’m dumb. You have a friend that is a boy.” His mother said slowly.

“I have many friends that are boys.” Blaine said. “I go to an all boys school.”

“Honestly. We can handle it. We handled you coming out, didn’t we?” Blaine’s grandmother asked.

Oh, yeah. You sure did.

“What’s his name?”

Blaine looked out the window, praying that the waiter would come with their drinks a little faster. He needed something to distract himself since he clearly wasn’t going to be able to have his phone out. His phone was the only thing that made lunches with his mother bearable and now he didn’t even have that to save him.

“Your mother asked you a question, Blaine.” His father said, voice low.

“Christopher.” Blaine lied. “His name is Christopher.”

“I’ve always thought that was a hideous name.” Blaine’s mother said, scrunching her nose up. “Christopher?”

“What ethnicity is he?” His grandmother asked.

“Does it matter?” Blaine asked before he could stop himself.

“Of course it matters.” His father said through clenched teeth.

“He’s Hispanic. Christopher is his middle name. His first name is Jose.”

His grandmother dropped her purse on the floor. “Honestly, Blaine?”

Blaine shrugged one shoulder, looking up and taking his drink from the waiter when she arrived.

“I still say we should have gone to the country club.” Blaine’s mother sighed.

“It would have been too far of a drive for Blaine. Gas isn’t cheap these days and I’m the one that has to pay his gas because Dalton won’t let their damn students have jobs.” Blaine’s father scoffed. “If I had it my way, he’d be working and paying off part of his tuition bill.”

There goes them paying for tuition for OSU or UK, Blaine thought to himself. He felt a tingle of sadness and guilt. There goes being within driving distance of Kurt.

“Are you really dating a Mexican?” His grandmother asked.

“I think they prefer to be called Hispanic, mother.”

“I’m actually dating a leprechaun.” Blaine shrugged.

“I’m asking you a serious question.” His father growled.

“I’m not dating anybody.” Blaine blurted, sitting up much straighter. “The guy on the phone was one of the Warblers.”

He momentarily closed his eyes. Please don’t ask me anything else…

“You sure do talk to someone on the phone a lot after school. Who is it?”

“My therapist.”

All three of them fell silent after that, not speaking until several minutes after their food arrived. They’d never asked how therapy was going. Not in public to avoid being overheard and not in private because they didn’t care.

“So,” His grandmother finally said. “When are you going to let us in on the big news?”

Now if it’ll get me out of here, Blaine thought. But he didn’t say that. Instead¸ he said, “Whenever.”

“Now we just want you to know that everything will be covered. I will cover food, gas, and school expenses while you’re up there and your parents will pay for a nice apartment and will completely furnish it and pay for all of your bills.” His grandmother prattled. “If no scholarship is involved, your parents have agreed to pay that as well.”

“If?” Blaine prompted. It wasn’t going to be that easy. No way. It wasn’t how his family worked.

“If you keep your private life private.” His father cut in. “I don’t want a bunch of pictures of you shacking up with boys ending up in the wrong hands. Your grandmother and I have careers to keep up and if you go wild, we’re going to cut you off entirely.”

“So can I act gay or can I just not let you find out?” Blaine asked, voice sweet.

Why did I just say that?

He really was back talking too much. Clearly Kurt was rubbing off on him.

“Are you wanting an argument or are you just stupid?” His father asked, glaring at him.

Blaine pushed the envelope toward his father, mainly just to shut him up.

His dad set his plate aside and opened Duke’s first—his father’s first choice, as it had been since he was 9 and his coach said he showed “great promise.”

“Accepted.” His father said out loud about five seconds later.

Blaine sat very still, waiting. What would happen?

“Accepted on a full scholarship!” His grandmother cried, looking over her son’s shoulder. “Oh, Blaine! I knew you could do it! He’s always practiced so hard!”

Blaine’s eyebrow shot up. He hadn’t expected a reaction from her. The again, money. What else would get a reaction from this woman?

“Do you see that, Mark?”

“Good. Maybe he can go to Duke, get his act together, find a nice girl, have a good career, and pretend to be normal.” His father said, tossing the letter onto the table.

Blaine stood, yanking the letter up and grabbing the others as well before anyone could grab them. “I don’t know why I came.”

“Not so fast. We’re not done discussing this. You need financial support.” His grandmother said, pointing to the seat. “Sit.”

Blaine stared at the three of them, weighing his options. Money for college and life or no money for college and life. Of course, of course, freaking money was going to win out. He hated money.

“Financial support will be given to you, as I explained, but there are some… conditions. Now I know that you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize my chances of winning in office.” His grandmother said as he slowly and regretfully took a seat. “We want to make sure proper precautions are taken to… to ensure my slot.”

Blaine resisted the urge to take a roll his eyes.

“You are not to post pictures of you and other boys acting… homosexual online.” His father interrupted. “You are not to post anything about your boyfriend online. You are not to do anything that would raise flags that the grandson of Barbra Anderson is gay. Am I clear?”

Blaine looked down at his phone, uploading a picture of he and Kurt as his Facebook display picture. His profile was completely unsearchable so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it still gave him the lightest bit of satisfaction. “Crystal clear, father. Is that it?”

“Don’t go getting drunk and acting like a fool. You have a name to uphold. If you get arrested, I will not be bailing you out again.”

“The longer I’m in jail, the more likely people are to make a connection.” Blaine commented. “That would be pretty unfortunate, wouldn’t it?”

His father stood, walked around the table, and grabbed his arm roughly. “I’m not playing, Blaine Wyatt Anderson. Just because you are almost 18 does not give you the right to act how you choose.”

“Actually when I’m 18, it does give me the right. By law.” Blaine said, eyes on his father’s hand. Five… four… three…

“Let go of him, Mark. This is ridiculous.” His grandmother hissed. “Someone could see.”

“Someone could see? That’s more important than what he did?” Blaine scoffed, standing when his father let go of him. “I’m leaving.”

“Here’s some lunch money, dear.” His mother said, shoving four one hundred dollar bills into his hand.

“Lunch money or hush money? Forget it.” Blaine pocketed the money, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out of the restaurant.

Are you free yet?

Blaine looked at his text, feeling his face light up in a smile at Kurt’s words. Just broke away. Am I driving to Lima or are we meeting half way?

You’ve driven all the way the last five times. I’m at Dalton in the senior commons with your friends. Hurry back. Wes is getting restless and that always results in awkward sexuality questions.

I am so sorry. I’ll be ten minutes tops.

:)

At least Blaine had Kurt and his friends.

[catty-words]

what do you think heather and valencia's romantic dynamic is like? how do you imagine them getting together?

ok i’m just going for it, and by ‘it’ i mean a version of canon i would have really liked to see:

when we pick up with valencia post-josh leaving rebecca at the altar, she’s just coming off her first big client after that whole debacle being attached to her name. and she’s in the midst of this spiral – a spiral she thought she’d stopped by becoming friends with rebecca but now she’s starting to think that maybe was actually like diving deeper into the spiral head-first. because she’s trying not to think about but is lowkey always thinking about how relieved she is that the josh and rebecca wedding fell through. and of course it’s more complicated than just that because she also Hates these clients for the way they’re constantly joking about marriage being a kind of prison and how it makes her think that yeah, actually, she’d felt kinda like she was imprisoning herself in an unhappy life when she reflects on the years she’d spent trying to marry josh. and now that she’s not forcing herself into that + is confronted with the unnerving picture of what it looks like on these horrible 23-year-olds, she can’t put a cap on this building geyser of self-hated, this disgust that she’d ever valued this life over all else in the first place

and then we have heather, who has recently learned that she can no longer renew the scholarship she’d been using to pay for a huge portion of her tuition, so she’s faced with the decision of sending out a whole bunch of scholarship applications and having to write essays to answer the questions about what her ultimate ambition in life is or declaring a major and finally graduation - so basically she has to make a choice for the direction of her life either way and she’s basically like ???

so they start leaning on each other more. heather talks in circles and circles and circles about not knowing how to make a decision until valencia tells her to stop whining so much and actually take some practical steps toward finding a life she wants because while she gets being scared about committing to the wrong thing, nothing is ever gonna happen if all heather does is talk. and heather is amused by the draaammaaaaa of valencia’s clients making the terrible life choice, which gives valencia the freedom to vent out all pent up frustration for how stupid the kids are.

and then rebecca’s suicide attempt happens and valencia has basically the same reaction she did in 3.06, and in the following days she has an especially hard time pushing away those feelings that have been looming since rebecca and josh got engaged. so when heather and her are having a typical, quiet night in at her apartment and she’s buoyed by the grounded feeling being around heather instills in her, she kisses heather because it seems safe somehow.

they keep doing it without really acknowledging it. just, every time they’re alone together they end up making out. since heather’s not freaking out about it and heather is her Super Chill guide to female friendships, valencia decides to accept this as simply something that happens sometimes. it’s normal and totally not a big deal. at least until she finds out heather is bi and then the panic and the self-hated come back in full-force. and what if heather’s in love with her now? has she ruined their friendship with her stupid curiosity?

but heather continues to be heather about everything, perpetually unbothered. and valencia’s not zen about any of this really, but it certainly helps her get her bearings, the fact that heather’s so sure of herself. it also helps that heather invites valencia to come along with her to a party with some of her college friends, where valencia meets this lesbian couple that she’s reluctantly really charmed by. and before she knows it, she’s, like, doubled the number of women in her life that she’s friends with. but while that’s thrilling, it makes valencia cling to heather a little more tightly.

at a certain point, though, valencia gets kind of antsy because though heather’s self-assuredness has been a nice backdrop to valencia realizing she loves women, it’s giving her a complex for having not reached the same place. before things get too tense, heather suggests they go back to being friends so valencia can take some time and see what else dating women has to offer – and, if she’s being honest, their thing has been distracting her from operation find a meaningful career so. it’d be good for both of them to take some time.

fast forward several years, and valencia’s just finished disentangling herself from a messy breakup because goddamn she really needs to learn to not go into business with every woman she dates longer than six months and heather’s finally settled into a career as a [redacted] (i never want to tie heather down to a career, even in my headcanons?) and they meet up in new york to attend the opening night of the musical rebecca’s written. they fuck, decide to stay in closer contact because they’re both over being coy about what they want, and they fall in love.