10 things you should know before you say you love me:
1. I cry when I get angry
2. If I see a dog when we’re walking down the street, I will stop to pet it. Please let me.
3. I can’t cook, but I can eat
4. I will sometimes write you love letters that don’t make sense; read them anyway. They’re the only way I’ll be able to tell you how much I love you.
5. I will have days where I am too sad to get out of bed, or even talk to you. You don’t have to do anything, just kiss me and let me know you’re there. I’ll be okay eventually.
6. My laugh is really loud and obnoxious, I hope you don’t get embarrassed by it.
7. I’m stubborn. It’ll be really difficult for you to win an argument against me.
8. I will want to show you off. To my family, to my friends, to my coworkers, to anyone who will listen.
9. Silly animation movies are my favorite. I will make you go to the movie theater with me to see them.
10. I’ll never get tired of touching, kissing you.
10 things you need to know before you say you love me
A/N: This has to be one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written :) Please pay attention to the dates and times! It begins in the present, and then there are a series of flashbacks. They’re all in chronological order for ease of reading, but please pay attention to the timings if you’re unsure!
With a cream envelope held between your fingers, you can’t prevent the smile from spreading across your lips. A greying memory slips into your mind, your eyes fluttering to a close as you let yourself get taken away to the land of fantasies.
Valentine’s day, two years ago, 1pm
At the sound of your name, you looked up. You were in a park, sitting on a picnic blanket. Surrounding you were hundreds of tiny daisies, scattered amongst the green grass like a sprinkling of icing sugar.
“Hmm?” You looked across the blanket to see Calum, your boyfriend, with a wide smile spread across his face.
I’m not quite sure whether to classify you as dumb or cute. Seriously, Park Chanyeol? You sent a ring along with a letter with the words “will you marry me?”and a doodle of yourself kneeling, I can’t believe you!
You asked for it. When the Scot Ties The Knot AU. 😜
okay, bit of background. we were talkin in discord about scottish twitter, which then transmuted into a talk about scottish romance novels, and then i brought up the greatest romance novel premise i’ve ever heard of: when a scot ties the knot by tessa dare. i’ve never actually read this book besides the back cover and some choice passages from my friend @galpaladvns who got it for her birthday or smth (all i really remember from that night was @funnythingsandphysics hunting through the pages for the smut which apparently took ¾ths of the book to get to?) but basically….. what happens next is the rough premise of the book, but viktuuri. and (very heavily winged) historical, because @kazliin and i are in agreement that there should be more period drama viktuuri anyway
When a Russian is Rushin’ to Marry: Or, the Unexpected Consequences of Inventing a Boyfriend
“I’m so jealous of you,” Phichit laments as he helps Yuuri get ready for the evening’s events. “I remember my first season like it was yesterday. Everything’s so exciting and bright your first time around; I wish I could experience it again!”
Yuuri says nothing, only turns slightly to watch the way the light catches on his blue brocade waistcoat in the mirror. “I don’t know,” he admits after a moment. “I’m probably going to be dreadfully old, especially in comparison to young Mr Plisetsky who’s also debuting this season.”
“Well, sometimes people like a late bloomer,” Phichit chides, patting his forearm. “Now turn, so I can help with your ascot.”
Yuuri lets him adjust the silken material with a weary sigh. He’d been putting off his entrance into society for as long as could be deemed socially acceptable, mostly for his nerves. But with each passing season, his parents would get more and more concerned that he wouldn’t marry and settle down, and eventually he’d caved. Tonight’s soiree would mark his debut, and it was about as quiet an affair as he could manage. Still, the thought of being approached tonight with potential suitors continues to threaten to overwhelm him at any given moment.
“Deep breaths, Yuuri,” Phichit offers kindly as he pats at his now properly-tied ascot. “You’re going to be just fine.”
“You sound more confident about this than I feel,” Yuuri retorts. Phichit helps him into his tailcoat with a grin.
“You’re a divine dancer, Yuuri,” he points out. “Who could say no to you?”
I’m not quite sure where to begin. I hope you never have to read this letter, but the warrior in me, says that is a dream. I believe I will soon meet my end. I face it with my head held high, knowing that this is my sacred duty … a duty that will be entrusted to you when I am gone.
Man’s world is a troubled place. It is filled with evil, and deceit. But there is good, and I am so grateful that you grew up surrounded by it. Within man’s world there are caring, loving, and faithful people who must be protected.
For years I have stood up for those who could not. I vanquished enemies determined to decimate the good of this world. Now I entrust that duty to you. I apologise in advance. This path is not easy, and you will be faced with difficult choices. However, I believe this is as much your destiny as much as it was mine.
I have upheaved your life once already. I have forced you away from the world you know and love, and delivered you to my sisters. I have no doubt that they have welcomed you, trained you, and most importantly, loved you. Now I am upheaving it again, by asking you to finish what I started.
I have left you the necessary items in our secret place. May they aid you in the same way they aided me.
My dear, sweet, daughter. You are so loved. Your brothers will help guide you, and your father and I will wait for you until your time comes. I pray this isn’t for many years. Live your life my dear one. Live and thrive and know that you are not only my daughter, but your father’s daughter. You are unstoppable.
With all my love,
You pace as you read the letter. You do your best to ignore the eyes on you until you’re done. Sighing, you fold up the letter and ask, “Who’s read it?”
“No one, Miss Wayne. It came straight to my hands upon your mother’s death. I have kept it safe.”
You nod, “But she told you what she wants me to do.”
Alfred’s face never falters, “She told me her hopes Miss Wayne, but she would never demand it of you.”
“The world does though.”
“Not everyone is meant to shoulder the weight of the world as your parents did. And as much, as I would love for you to return home, I can see you’ve made a home for yourself here as well. You have found a second family, one who cares for you. Your mother would never begrudge you that.”
Io answers before you can, “Because you know so much about our princess?” You shoot Io a warning look, but you should have known better. Alfred had never required anyone to protect him. He had always fended for himself, and the family.
“Ma’am, I never claimed to know more about Ms. Diana than you. But I believe I knew her fairly well. She was a strong and independent woman who loved with her whole heart, and only wanted the best for those she loved. If Miss Y/N is happy here, then I see no reason for her to leave.”
Your grandmother’s voice rings out next, “You knew my daughter well?”
Alfred’s smile is gentle and kind, “Yes, your majesty, I did. I raised Master Bruce after his parents died. He was a lonely boy, very bright, and very secluded. He blossomed under the love your daughter gave him, and reciprocated it one hundred percent. As a result, I watched these children, including their daughter grow up. I’d like to think, that after all those years, we might know something about her as well.”
Silence engulfs everyone there, and after several minutes you say, “I need to think.”
Without another word, you walk away. You walk for several miles, until you’re out of sight. Assured, that you’re alone, you take out the letter and read it again, and again, and again.
You feel their presence, but don’t speak until they sit down around you. Io, is the first to speak, “I’m sorry … I was out of line.”
You give her a small smile, “You were worried Io. It’s okay.”
“I felt anger at seeing them. They took your mother from us, and now I fear they’ll take you as well.”
You sigh, “My mother left of her own free will.”
“And what will you do with your free will?” Artemis asks. You hand her the letter and wait until everyone has read it.
There’s silence for several minutes before you say, “She made sure I was prepared.”
“I fear this may be too much for you to handle alone.” Calyce says.
You nod, “I know it is, but I’ll have the League and the Team.”
“And us.” Artemis states.
You spin around to face your friends, “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You didn’t ask, we are simply declaring our intentions.” Euboea states.
“We have already lost one princess, we will not lose another,” Io whispers.
Artemis smiles at you, “Man’s world is in turmoil. It will take more than one woman to fix it.”
You smile, and stand up, your friends follow suit, “Let’s just hope the manor is still standing.”
You return to the group on the beach, and the look in your grandmother’s eyes tells you she knows. She gives a small smile, “You are your mother’s daughter I would expect nothing less.” Her eyes go past you to your friends, “You understand this decision? The duty you are undertaking?”
They answer in unison, “We do our queen.”
She nods, “May your work be swift. Aid my grand-daughter, your princess in her mission. Lend her your strength.” Her attention turns to you, “Be strong little one, and don’t forget to visit.”
Summary: (Y/N) has received a love letter. The problem, she doesn’t know who sent it. The other problem, she is already in love with someone else
Within seconds you stole my attention
Skin so perfect, a golden complexion
More than beautiful girl, you’re a work of art
Oh, my, I cannot believe my eyes
Oh, my, pinch me, am I dreamin’, am I?
Oh, my, did you fall from the skies?
I can’t see your wings, but girl, you’re an angel
Oh, my, my angel
You’re so out of this world, you’re hiding your halo
Oh, oh, my angel
Oh, my, my angel
Won’t you be mine? My angel
I can’t see your wings, but girl, you’re an angel
Oh, my angel
Your heart melted once more when you read those words for what seemed the millionth time today.
“You are reading that thing again?” Caitlin asked
“Yeah” you sighed dreamfully “I can’t help it. Every time I use the phone I have, no, need to read it”
“It’s a shame you don’t know who sent it” she commented while sipping her coffee.
“I’m kind of bumped about it too. I mean, they could have written an initial or, I don’t know, something at least!” You said exasperated.
Since the letter arrived on Valentines day, attached to a bouquet of flowers with no remitent, you had been thinking of who the person might be. However, no one seemed to fit in the description. And to be honest, you were a little bit scared to reveal the identity, since your heart already belonged to another person.
Simon is casually hunched over on the floor when I walk into the living room, and he seems to be scribbling on something rather messily. He gasps when he sees me and immediately puts his hands over it.
“Baz! Don’t look,” he says, and then suddenly he glances around and slides the entire thing (a piece of paper on top of a clipboard) under the couch.
I cock my eyebrow at him and smirk.
“I was working on something and you’re not allowed to look.” He gets up off the floor and settles down on the sofa, just as Bunce walks in with a plate of scones and a bowl of biscuits.
“Ah, Baz, I didn’t realize you were here,” she says, handing the plate of scones to Snow. I sit down on the end of the couch and she sits at the other end, then awkwardly reaches behind Snow and pushes through his ridiculous, folded wings to offer me a biscuit from the bowl. I really don’t want one, but now I can’t refuse after she (literally) went through all of that trouble.
“What were you working on, Snow?” I ask, taking the biscuit and sitting it down on a coaster on the side table.
“I can’ tell ‘ou, Baz,” Snow says, his mouth full of scone. “Is a surprise.”
I roll my eyes, and Bunce giggles.
“As long as it’s not one of those cheesy Valentine’s cards you get from Clintons,” I say.
Snow glares at me, but I can’t take him seriously when there are crumbs falling from his mouth.
“Wha’s wong with cheeshy Valen’ine’sh cardsh fwom Clin’ons?”
“Quite simply,” I say, smiling gently at him, and I reach up to swipe a crumb off of his lip. “They’re lame.”
Snow sarcastically gasps, crumbs falling all around him, and Bunce giggles again.
“Probably because you never got any in school,” Bunce says.
I glare at her through a gap in Snow’s wings. “You probably didn’t get any either,” I say back.
“Fair point,” she says, and stuffs a biscuit into her mouth.
Snow is staring at me when I look away from her.
“You really never got any, Baz?” He asks. “Although, I guess I never saw any in our room.”
I laugh at this. “I would never have kept them even if I did.”
Snow glances over at Bunce, then back at me.
“So neither of you got any valentines cards?”
Bunce seems to be shaking her head. “We weren’t as popular as you, Simon. And I know you got a lot because I remember helping you carry the box of them up to your room in sixth year. You insisted we not use magic.”
“Look, Penny–,” Snow begins, but stops, and I notice through the gap that Bunce is looking at him fiercely.
“Simon!” she says, rather excitedly. “That was the year you got that secret admirer letter, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”
So did I.
“We never figured out who wrote it.”
Aleister Crowley, this is bad.
Snow is laughing. “We read it so many times.”
Fuck, Snow. Please stop talking.
“At least a dozen!”
You too, Bunce.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, carefully and calmly, although I’ve never felt this much embarrassment. This is one of the few times I thank my vampirism.
Yes, I wrote it. Yes, it was embarrassing. No, no one can ever find out.
“So in sixth year,” Bunce begins, and I know this situation couldn’t get any worse.
“Crowley! I still have it!” Snow shouts, and immediately jumps off the couch and runs to his room.
Bunce is laughing. I was wrong.
“So anyway,” she says. “In sixth year, after Simon made me lug up his ridiculous box of valentines cards, we found a letter attached to the outside of the bedroom door. It was from some mysterious secret admirer, who wrote in perfect cursive, and I had to basically read it to Simon since his cursive skills were atrocious.”
I smirk at this. “Typical Snow.”
Bunce nods and her phone buzzes. She pulls it out of her pocket and casually scrolls through it as she continues. “It was quite cheesy, and we read it so many times. They even quoted Shakespeare and Kierkegaard, which I thought was lovely, but Simon didn’t really seem to get it. He was obsessed with it for some time though, and we assumed at first it was from Agatha–,” I mentally frown at this, “–but she denied it multiple times. So then we made a list of people who could have sent it. Simon even went so far as to ask random people to write in cursive for him. He was obsessed.”
I snort at this. As embarrassed as I am, it’s a rather funny thought to imagine the looks Snow received from people when he asked them to do something so ridiculous.
“So what happened?” I ask. It was really the only question I could come up with that didn’t remotely give me away.
“Simon finally gave up. I mean, I think there was even a line at the end written in French.”
It was Greek.
“I mean, who writes in perfect cursive and just casually quotes Søren Kierkegaard?”
“Are you sure Agatha was just too embarrassed to admit it was her?” I ask.
“Agatha doesn’t give a damn about 19th century philosophers. Or cursive. Or foreign languages. And really, I can’t believe Simon kept that letter all these years. He’s never going to figure it…” Bunce trails off, and I know that I’m doomed. She sets her phone down and slowly turns her head towards me, her eyes gleaming.
I cock an eyebrow at her.
“I found it!” Snow says, waving an envelope around as he plops back down on the sofa. His wings are folded neatly behind him this time, and Bunce is staring straight at me. She mouths the words ‘It was you’, and really, her stare is so intense that I have no way of denying it.
‘Don’t. Say. Anything.’ I mouth back at her.
Bunce smiles maliciously and laughs. Snow looks over at her and shakes his head.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Nothing, Simon. Why don’t I read that letter? Aloud.” Bunce smiles at me.
Fuck you, Bunce.
Snow takes the letter out of the envelope, and it’s so crinkled, like he’s held it countless times.
“Okay, okay,” he says, unfolding it and handing it to her.
Bunce takes the letter, smiles at me again, glances back to the letter, and dramatically clears her throat. But then, she looks back at me.
“Actually,” she says, and I know this can’t be good. “Baz writes in perfect cursive. Why don’t we let him read it?”
I cast a glare at Bunce so fierce, it could set a forest ablaze in seconds. But she deflects it like it’s a useless first-year spell.
Fuck you, Bunce.
Before I can respond, she passes the letter to Snow, who smiles at me. I curse that smile inwardly and take the dreaded paper. I glance it up and down a few times, also cursing my 15-year old self for writing such a horrid piece.
“Our life,” I begin, “always expresses the result of our dominant thoughts. And you, Simon Snow, are at the center of my mind.”
Bunce glances over and cocks an eyebrow, as if mocking me. I ignore her.
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is wing’d cupid painted blind. And you, Simon Snow, are the center of my world, my universe, and my heart.”
I’m cringing. And Bunce is giggling. But Snow is smiling at me, and Crowley, he looks beautiful.
“Don’t forget the last line,” she says.
“It’s in Greek, by the way,” I say. “Not French.”
Snow smiles even more and turns to me. “Baz! I forgot that you know Greek!”
Thank Crowley for Snow’s obliviousness. Because I was sure anyone else would have realized it at that point.
“Go on, then, Baz,” Bunce says.
I sigh, and stare at the last line for a long time. Not because I’m translating it (because I know it by heart), but because it’s so cringey to read the writing of your 15-year old self.
είσαι το κέντρο των πάντων μου,” I say. My Greek is still flawless. “You are the center of my everything.”
Bunce wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. “Wow,” she says. “It’s even cheesier in English.”
“Shut it, Bunce,” I say, sighing. I begin to hand Simon the letter, and he’s just smiling at me. Crowley.
He takes the letter and stares at it. “Wow,” he says. “It sounds so nice when you read it, Baz.”
“I wonder why,” Bunce says, snickering, and I glare at her again.
“Well, we’ll probably never figure it out,” Snow sighs, folding the letter and carefully placing it back in the envelope.
Bunce pats Snow on the shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure you will soon.” And then, she winks at me. Winks.
Snow gets up and heads back to his room. When he’s out of earshot, Bunce turns to me.
“You will have to tell him sometime,” she whispers.
92 tree bros, maybe with some jared? that'd be fun
#92 “That SOOO classifies as a date”
“YOU WENT ON A DATE WITH CONNOR MURPHY!?”
“Ja-Jared shhhh! Please!” Evan begged as he covered his friends mouth. He didn’t need any passerby’s to hear that. What if someone from school just so happened to be passing by his house? “I-I don’t even know if it was a date okay!”
“Well what the fuck did you do on this outing.” Jared asked. He promptly sat down on Evan’s couch, awaiting the other teen to answer him.
“Look after he shoved me we talked in the computer lab and he apologized and gave me my letter back-”
“He gave you back your weird sex letter?” Jared laughed. God that was great! Did Connor even read it or know Evan Hansen, of all people, wrote a sex letter about his sister.
“It wasn’t a sex letter Jared!” Evan exclaimed. Why was Jared so insistent that he wrote a sex letter about Zoe Murphy?! “Well whatever, he asked me to go get ice cream as an apology and we hung out in an orchard and he brought me home after dark.” Evan explained.
“That SOOO classifies a date Hansen.” Jared pointed out. “All you need is a kiss goodnight and it’ll be like the 1950′s making a comeback.” Jared smirked. He couldn’t believe Evan actually went on a date with someone, let alone Connor Murphy.
“Jared! Friends can hang out in abandoned orchards and eat ice cream! It’s not just for couples!” Evan protested. He also failed to mention that their was a slight kiss on the cheek from Connor but it was only an accident!
Connor had went to reach for something and Evan moved and Connor’s lips connected with Evan’s cheek. Both boys ended up blushing furiously and Evan had left the car in an instant.
“Fine whatever you say Evan.” Jared put his hands up in defense. He let out a laugh and shook his head. “But it was so a date.”
Your story about Betty having a baby with Jughead but him not knowing is so good! I love the plot, if your up for it could you please write a part 5?!?
Hunter padded through the upstairs apartment, his little feet making faint thumping sounds as he rounded the corner, running directly into Jughead who was cleaning off the living room table.
“Woah there, you got changed pretty fast. Are you some kind of superhero?” He raised a brow, bending down to the tiny toddlers level.
Hunter smiled wide and excited
“Superman. Mamma calls me super man!” He explained.
Jughead glanced up at the blonde in question as she leaned against the doorframe, a pair of child’s sized socks and a stuffed dog in her hands, she smiled at the two boys.
“Oh really?” Jughead questioned “well I’ve been told superman can fly? Do you want to try it out?”
The dark haired boys eyes grew wide with excitement and he looked to his mother for approval, something Jughead took note of. When Betty nodded and nudged her head, hunter clapped
Jughead picked up his son and lifted him in the air, putting him on his shoulders and running around the apartment as hunter squealed happily and clutched his father by the neck. After a few minutes Betty stepped into the room, her eyes shining with something Jughead couldn’t quite place.
“Alright my little airplane, it’s time for bed. I know hotdog sure is tired.” She held out the little white stuffed sheepdog, it looked eerily familiar to Jugheads childhood pet and it just so happened his pets name was hotdog as well.
“Okay mama.” The tired little boy agreed jovially, he was so simple, so obedient. He couldn’t help but stare in awe as Betty took him from his arms, she had raised him right.
The tiny makeshift family made their way to the light blue bedroom and Betty placed her son onto the soft grey sheets.
“Alright what’ll we have tonight?”
Hunter looked up,
“Jughead reads to me?” He asked, pulling an old soft cover edition of curious George out from under his pillow and holding it out to Jughead.
Jugheads eyes went wide and he glanced over at Betty, it was his turn to ask for permission. Betty’s eyes were surprisingly soft.
“Sure bug. Ya know Jughead used to read to me all the time. I remember him being pretty good.” She settled beside her sleepy son and Hunter patted the open space beside him.
“Cuddle. We have to” he explained in an almost bored tone. Apparently this was not up for discussion, not that Jughead was complaining.. at all.
Jughead began reading the book and smiled when both Betty and Hunter giggled at the best parts, almost near the end he felt a soft hand clutch his forearm, he looked up to see Betty with a finger on her lips as she glanced down at the now sleeping toddler.
They both slowly pulled themselves off the bed as Betty dropped a kiss to Hunters forehead and Jughead stared down, cautiously brushing a strand of dark black hair off of his sons face. When the door closed, Jughead slumped against it, he hadn’t realized how much love he felt for the little boy but after that.. it was a lot to take in.
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She smiled reassuringly, she always knew when to give him space, Now was one of those times and he watched her walk from the hall.
His son was amazing, he was smart and kind and beautiful. He had missed so much of his life but there was still time, he could still show him what it meant to have a father, someone who loved him endlessly. And then there was Betty, she was so strong to do this all on her own, and then to let Jughead back into their lives, just like that. Not to mention she ran her own business as a single mother. She was amazing, she always had been. He wasn’t losing this, he couldn’t lose his family. It was something he never thought he could have, growing up his family had been in pieces, they were separated and he was always torn between two halves, he saw firsthand the way it destroyed his mother, he would never let that happen to Betty, not on his watch.
He moved into the kitchen and smiled when he saw Betty resting against the counter, two beers in her hand. She smiled when she saw him, holding out the cold beverage and taking a sip from her own.
“So daddy? How’s it feel?” She wasn’t being sarcastic or nasty, she was genuinely curious, if not a little nervous.
Jughead smiled dreamily
“He’s great, he’s so bright and well behaved. You’ve done such a good job Bets, I never thought.. I just… he’s such a good kid ya know? And he’s half me.” He shook his head disbelievingly and Betty laughed, taking him by the hand and leading him to the couch.
“I know, it still amazes me everyday. I’ve never regret a day of my life ever since I had him. He’s made me whole, given me something to live for. The first half of my pregnancy was … rough.” She explained, taking in his guilty eyes.
“It’s not your fault Juggie, it takes two to tango. I just thought… I didn’t know why you had left and my dad.. well let’s just say he didn’t want to have another daughter disgrace him, he told me a few times I would be better off dead.. and after hearing that so much, you start to believe it.”
Jughead fists clenched the arms of the dark brown couch, he wanted to kill Hal Cooper, he was a miserable excuse for a man. He prayed to god that man never crossed his path, sure he had grown but there would always be Southside in him, something popped in his head
“What about my dad.. does my dad know?” Jughead asked.
Betty shook her head and looked away.
“I went to see him, a few times actually but he wouldn’t let me in, I wrote letters and camped outside the trailer. I just wanted him to know.. but.. he wouldn’t let me in.”
Jughead bit back his growl, good old dad.
“You’re not him Jughead.”
He looked up surprised, even after all these years she could still read his thoughts.
“How do you know?” He asked desperately “I’ve never been a father, I don’t have the best example to look up too, how do you know I’m not just like him?”
Betty turned her body towards his on the couch
“Because then it would be okay to say that I’m my mother, I’ve proved myself as a parent so far, it’s your turn now.” Her hand raised to cup his cheek.
He closed his eyes, taking in the soft fingers he had always loved, the feeling of her touching his skin sent lightning shocks through his entire body and before he had a chance to speak a word her lips were on his.
After the immediate shock wore off, he devoured her, pulling her onto his lap, his hands hungrily touching every part of her body, he couldn’t get enough, he couldn’t get close enough. She was a drug, heavy and addictive but she was also rehab and without her he would fade away. He had her slammed against the kitchen cabinets in seconds flat, her lips came to his ear and she whispered
Jamie pulled me in close, tucking my head under his chin as he rocked us from side to side.
“Are ye alright, mo nighean donn?” He whispered into my hair. I could hear the strain in his voice.
I nodded with a mumbled yes into his chest. The tension in his body seemed to melt away with my simple answer. I felt him press a kiss to my head, just before he pulled back to survey my face.
“Christ, it’s good to see and hold ye, Sassenach. If he–if he–” his eyes closed as he breathed angrily out his nose. “I couldnae stand it if he’d done anything to ye.”
I cupped his face and he leaned further into it my touch as I said, “You stopped him. Nothing happened because you were here. Even if you had not showed up, he wouldn’t have gone far. If he had tried to pull me close, my knee would have forcefully become acquainted with a particularly sensitive part of him.”
Jamie tipped his head back with a roaring laugh. “I wouldnae doubt ye for a moment, Sassenach. And remind me to ne’er get on yer bad side.” He said with a wink.
I smirked as he wrapped an arm back around my shoulders and guided me to the big house.
“We need to be quiet, Claire, we dinna wish to be caught.” He said with a wink, holding a finger up to his lips. “I wish to keep ye to myself for a while and the moment my meddlin’ family discovers I’m in the house it’ll be hours before I can just hold ye and talk wi’ ye.” He looked over to me and gave me a grin that made my stomach feel full of butterflies. “I just want to be able to talk wi’ ye wi’out a crowd.”
“If you’re so worried about being caught, why don’t we stay out in the garden or go for a walk to the mill?” I countered.
“Because,” he said, “I cannae give ye the wee baubles I brought back for ye at the mill.”
“You didn’t have to–”
“I ken fine I dinnae have to get ye anything, but I wanted to.”
I nodded and followed him with light footsteps through the empty kitchen and up the back set of stairs towards my, no his bedroom. A room I would have to give up, a bittersweet sadness washed over me. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of that room, of Jamie, but he was home now. The need to be separate until the wedding would overshadow every other need that may arise. God, I hoped it wasn’t too much longer. A year already and before then the stupidity of my shyness kept us apart, and now…now I wanted nothing more than to never leave his side and let the feelings that have been building take over. I wanted, no, needed these emotions, these overwhelming sensations to be sated and content. He was the man I could let myself genuinely feel and not be afraid of what was to come. I’d heard enough over the last year from Jenny, the women I helped in childbirth, and old Granny McNabb to know what was to come for the marriage bed.
“Claire? Claire?” Jamie said, shaking me slightly. “Where did ye go mo nighean donn? I’ve been saying yer name…” He trailed off when I started to shake my head and smile.
“I was thinking about what this room means, to you, to me…us.” I took a step and buried my face in his chest, then continued. “This is your childhood room, your home. But, when you left it became this empty shell, waiting for your return. Nothing out of place, everything exactly as you left it, until I moved in. It was hard at first, however, this room became an extension of you, a place where I felt closer to you. This room, this house, it became my home, more so than any other place I’ve lived.
I felt his arms tighten around and a smile bloom across his face. “Aye, well then I’m sure my letter was of comfort to ye in my absence as well?”
“Mmm hmm. They were. Although I did wish for more of them.”
He laughed, “I wish I could have written more as well.”
Taking a moment to himself, Jamie pulled away taking in the familiar surroundings, his gaze seemed to linger on the small bundle of his letters.
“I am curious, Claire.” He said, brows furrowed.
“Why ye dinna wear the bauble I left ye.” His voice was soft, almost somber in tone.
I furrowed my brow, trying to think back to any bauble I may have received or misplaced. My hand instantly went to my neck where the fine gold chain securely held Jamie’s ring.
“I don’t know which bauble you’re speaking of, Jamie.” My wrist twisted and rocked from side to side, moving the ring rapidly across the chain. “The only thing close to a bauble I can recall is this ring. I never took it off. I’ve worn it either on my finger or on the chain everyday since you gave it to me.”
Jamie’s hand gently grabbed my own, halting the nervous fidgeting, and lifted my hand to his lips for a tender kiss. The stubble of his beard tickled the back of my hand, as his lips lingered against my skin. “No,” his mumbled words a whisper across my skin, “I dinna mean the ring. Although ye canna ken how elated I am to see ye wear it. I wish for it to never leave your finger, but I understand how ye dinna wish to tarnish the gem with soil from her wee herbs or blood from yer tending. No, I mean the wee bauble I wrapped in a letter for ye before I left.”
He held up his hand to silence me. “I thought I would be clever and leave the letter hidden so only ye could discover it, but it seems I did my job too well.” His eyes glittered with mischief. “So it only seems fair now that I find it for ye, yes?”
I nodded as he shook his head contradicting himself. “I’ll give ye a clue, mo nighean donn, and then it’s yer job to find it.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Well what’s the clue?”
Jamie kissed my hand one more time before stepping back and leaned against the closed door. “I’ve already given it to ye.”
“What? How? When did you do such a thing?” I asked flabbergasted.
He grinned like the cat who got the canary and nodded slightly, but not in any definable direction. “Ye ken how and when. Surely ye read yer letters thoroughly or watched me when I entered the room. What did you read, Sassenach? Think.”
“James Fraser!” I exclaimed with a wave of my hand. “How am I supposed to decipher something I didn’t know existed?”
“Weel ye ken now, so think and decipher.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, causing him to bark with laughter but not reveal any more cryptic clues.
“Okay, letters and body language,” I mumbled to myself turning to face the room. “We walked it and he looked to the window, then to the trunk at the end of the bed. The pile of letters neatly stacked…He looked there multiple times, but there’s nothing in there unless–unless he had hidden clues in their contents? But then why would he look over…oh!” and like a flash, a ridiculous notion came to me. Many times in his letters he mentioned his desire to draw me in close to his heart, and the heart was on the left side, the same side he wrote on, the logical side where a small bedside cabinet with drawers filled with baubles, a heavily used Bible and a rosary. Swiftly I removed the contents of the bedside cabinet and desperate to see if a letter was hidden.
“Well, that was a long shot,” I mumbled.
Deflated I sat on the bed and looked around again, my eyes landing on Jamie as he portrayed nothing but absolute indifference.
“You only looked at two places,” I said loud enough for him to hear.
“Och, did I?” He smirked.
“Aye, ye did.” I laughed, exaggerating my speech to mimic his accent.
“Then what does that tell ye, Sassenach?”
“It means you either stuck the letter in the ground, or it’s in your trunk.”
He shrugged but didn’t say a word.
“Fine,” I sighed, walking over to the trunk I had taken to using for my own clothing, and began to pull out my belongings one by one. It didn’t take long until the trunk was empty and nothing lay at the bottom that resembled a letter, nor was there one stuffed somewhere inside the various possession I had inside.
“There’s nothing here.” I said gesturing to the trunk. “Look see there’s noth–” My words stopped as I noticed a small, yellowing scrap of fabric that seemed to be wedged into the inside lid of the trunk. My hands shook as I gently tugged on the fabric, pulling it until my fingers scraped against metal. A hidden latch that opened a hidden compartment rattled at my touch, then easily opened. Inside, pockets of wood and fabric lined panes similar to a bookshelf were revealed. Inside the middle pane lay a perfectly sealed letter.
The letter had my name scrawled in Jamie’s beautiful script, my fingers traced the letters, then popped the ball of red wax sealing the sides together. White and gold slithered out of it’s confinement and into my awaiting palm.
“They were my mother’s pearls.” Jamie’s voice was low and husky from behind me. “She said to give them to my future wife.”
Tears sprang to my eyes as he reverently placed the strand around my neck.
“How long?” I couldn’t finish my thought, but he knew.
“I wrote this letter the day I found you in the meadow outside the mill.” His fingers traced the pearls and my neck with a light touch sending chills down my spine. “I knew then I wanted ye for my own, and I couldna and wouldna let ye go. I sealed the letter with the pearls just before I left for University.” My eyes closed as his lips brushed the nape of my neck. His forehead leaned against my skull and we sat in silence, taking in the moment.
“Y-You knew? I thought, oh God Jamie!” I turned in his arms, throwing my own around his neck and burying my face in his chest. “We lost so much time before.”
He lifted my chin, “No we didna, it wasna the time or place to begin. Our lives are twined together,” Jamie grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers in illustration, “and when we say it is the right time, it is. I knew I wanted ye and ye proved on Quarter Day that ye too wanted me. That’s why I gave ye that ring, to symbolize my commitment to ye, and wrapped up this necklace for ye. It’s an outward sign of what we already know. We’re bound you and I and soon, very soon, if ye’ll have me…”
He nodded eyes brimmed with tears. “I am.”
“You already know the answer you insufferable Scot!” I sobbed with a laugh.
“Say it, please Claire.”
“Yes, I’ll be your wife.” His eyes closed and shoulders shook in silent tears as he pulled me in tight, his lips finding mine in a clash of teeth and salty tears.
hey guys. so, orignally i wrote this for myself because it’s taken from a personal place but i decided to share it, and i used y/n because i thought it’d be more enjoyable for you guys to read if it’s reid x reader ahaha. sorry if this is all over the place. it’s kinda based off of Won’t Go Home Without You by Maroon 5. (the song, not the video!)
Okay! update i really like this and decided to use it for Hannah’s Classic Criminal Minds Quote Challenge. @hanny-bananny
“Don’t make me smack you in front of all these people.”
Spencer stared blankly at his front door, the door that she’d just walked out of and shut lightly behind her. There was no fight or misunderstanding that lead to their break up, Y/n just decided she didn’t want him anymore and left. She left him like it didn’t matter, like they were never in love, like her feelings were never real. But that was the problem— they were the realest emotions she’d ever felt for anyone. And in the end, it did more harm to her than good.
She couldn’t let herself be happy with anyone. When she felt herself start to fall deeper in love with a partner, she’d sabotage and ruin it before it ever began. It was as if there was an invisible limit she had where she’d hit it and think, ‘okay, it’s over now.’ And by the time her heart could process what her mind was making her do, she’d find herself alone again.
if you’re reading this and i’m not here to explain everything to you, i would like for you to know a few things about why things don’t work out as planned. i don’t want you to think that you’re not worth every inch of your beating heart, you want to be loved and to feel wanted, in truth, i want the exact same thing, but it’s much less about someone else wanting me and more of wanting myself before anyone gets a try at trying to love someone that’s like me and i’ve been told a lot lately from a few different people that i should be careful about you and how you’ll hurt me if it comes down to it. i’m not worried about getting hurt because i’ve been too numb to even notice and that’s alright. i’ve hurt someone that’s very important to me and i can’t fix it, they say that i have to let things go and get over it– it’s been, fuck i don’t keep track of the days anymore. it’s just been a really long time and she still has bits of my heart and it’s really not your fault. maybe we met at the wrong time, maybe i shouldn’t have bought so many flowers. maybe i shouldn’t have kissed you, i promise i’m not trying to lead you on. i realized a week ago that when you looked me in the eyes and saw a whole future with me, it scared me. i don’t have much to offer, but poetry, books and my piano. i’m living in a modern day renaissance and i don’t know if i’m ready to fall in love anymore, i guess you’re right, i don’t know how to open up anymore. being happy comes up short most days, if i keep listening to these sad songs and see her face but not yours, these flaws are mine and mine only. acceptance is like a season that doesn’t fade, we ask the weather to be more than tempting and ask the wind to take us away. i am missing a few screws in my head and there’s moondust where hands used to pull me under, there’s sunlight where i’ve fallen for light love, how can i love myself if i keep trying to destroy my progress? my cousin says that you must love the struggle because if you’re at the top one day and you can’t see the grind to get to where you want to be, if you don’t respect the hustle and bustle of busy hearts trying to beat, if you can’t love yourself enough to let her go, if you’re wondering while you’re wandering– then dreams will stay as dreams and never will they enter your reality. you’ve heard this before, it’s not you, it’s me. another silly excuse for me to be distant. another reason the ocean drowns with the distance between islands of fire and seas of ice, sometimes i think it’d be nice to hold you just to have someone to hold, but what kind of person would i be if i didn’t show something genuine to you? these are the letters that you won’t read, these are the pieces of my tattered heart that you can see, and i’m so sorry about not visiting as much or talking as much or smiling as much or loving as much or anything related to telling you that we’re doing okay. i’m kinda lost right now and i can’t shake the feeling that a close friend of mine has died. i find more comfort with shadows than i do with your hugs and your smiling. i guess i really am messed up. i just don’t know how to love people like that anymore. do you love the idea of me or do you love me? a question that’ll haunt me until my last days. which parts of us do we truly understand? the universe is far too vast, we are but tiny specks of stardust inside a grain of sand trying to feel large. my life is an hourglass and i’ve been slowly falling for the reason as to why i shouldn’t stay, i don’t feel like i’m worth your time and that’s a big problem to me. i can’t love you if i’m in love with someone else. i can’t love you if i don’t love myself. you said that it’s not true. you can love people without being in love with yourself. it’s true. i’ve done it. i became a writer that way, but before i start using the word love carelessly– i want to treat my own body like it’s a sapling that’s not quite the tree that i’d sit under to read my favorite book. i want to make music with my veins pressed down into journals, so that even if i leave this place some day, at least i left my blood with my words and my lips with the meaning. i want to scratch my name into the stars and ask the sun to glow under my skin, which way is towards freedom of pain? or are we destined to be hurt? i want to love each parts of myself enough to carry my own name in silence because when you love people and you have nothing left for yourself and they leave– that’s where all the heartbroken artists live and still live even after they’ve healed. i’ve seen your response, i am living proof that you can love people even if you don’t love yourself. it has both made me a better person, but it has also broke a part of me that i can’t fix. they say that men shouldn’t cry because it’s weak. i used to be quite different. now, i think it’s okay to cry. sometimes when a good song comes on, i feel things that i can’t explain, i am a certain way that’s left to the unknown. i’ve been asking people a question. how do you know when you’re in love with someone? when you hear their name, your face lights up. when you’re having a bad day and all they have to do is be there for you to feel better. when you’re just absolutely sure that it is love and not an illusion. i don’t feel any of those things for anyone, but i’d like to have enough confidence to tell you that you are beautiful, i just can’t fix yet another broken person with my smile. my sister tells me that i attract broken people through my insane methods of empathy, i can be lethal if not taken in small doses. i think it’s like that for anyone who just needs to forget. are you trying to forget about someone too? i wanted you to feel pretty, so i bought my favorite flowers for you. i wanted to give attention, so i write to you. i wanted you to know that you’re too angry, i understand anger, so maybe that’s why we’re close. they say that passion is destructive by nature because if you want it bad enough, you’d do anything to make it happen. they say that if you want someone badly enough, there isn’t an excuse big enough out there that you’ll be able to say to not do it. i don’t have any excuses. no more promises. i don’t have a lie up my sleeve. i don’t have a smile for your bad days. i can’t be in your future if i’m uncertain about mine. i can’t be your lover if i am broken too. cracked hearts need clarity not romance. a pair of sad eyes need self-reflection not sex. a smile that’s fake enough to trick the sun into believing that it has shined there once upon a time, it needs someone that’s able to help you grow. i don’t think i’m that person. everyone has got problems and who doesn’t hate themselves on a really bad day? i guess i’m just a little tired of giving myself up for something that isn’t promised tomorrow. because when you’re alone and it’s just you, only you can fix your problems. no one else. just me, myself and i. maybe i’m selfish. maybe i’m full of shit. but if that’s what it takes to fix this heart of mine, i’ll give it all away just to feel another day. so if you find this some day and i’m no longer around–
it’s not your fault, i’m just trying to figure it all out.
Warning: I’m kind of proud of this, but it does include topics of death, cancer and loss. If this is something that you find hard to read, please do not read it. If you ever need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open and I will always be there to support each and every one of you x
I stare blankly at my wall as my mind keeps me awake with unwanted thoughts. I struggle to recall what it felt like to feel. What it felt like to worry, and to laugh, to cry and to feel this deep seeded rage within me. It’s not that I missed the feelings, it’s more so that I was curious as to what they would feel like again without you being the one that caused them. I lied there wondering what happened to me to make me this way, to force me to shut down into a state of self-preservation. But even the recollection of events brought me nothing but numbness. Would you be proud of me Y/N? “Ethan” a soft knock echoed throughout the dark room as a silhouette figure appeared at my darkly lit doorway. I didn’t bother moving or standing up to greet them. “How are you?” my brother soothed as he sat down softly on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping at the sudden shift in weight. “I’m fine Grayson, you don’t need to check up on me” I replied in a monotone, rolling onto my side away from his gaze. “Okay. Well if you want to talk, you know I’m always here” he smiled weakly as he slumped out of my room, defeated. I know that this isn’t his fault. I’m not blaming anyone, I promise. I know that I should care that I’m hurting him by being this way, but I just simply can’t. All of your friends have stopped by with foods and comforting words, as they offer their apologises and say their biggest regrets, but if they really cared, why weren’t they there for you? They all say it will get better and how much they loved you, but they don’t know anything. Your mum came over the other day, and seeing her face was almost enough to bring the old me back; the broken, bruised and shattered, me. She’d lost so much weight since I saw her at the funeral last, and her face still smiles the same as yours, even if it was forced. Her eyes reminded me of yours, and I’m sorry to say I couldn’t look at her. I know you told me to look after her and to be strong for you, but it’s another promise lost in the mist of your passing. I know you told me you loved me, and you wanted nothing to change, but I can’t justify living this life that we planned without you. I know, I know, I know, I know all these things you said and you asked and you promised, but even though this knowledge is embedded in my memories and my thoughts, I can’t accept it.
~ ~ ~ ~
“A package came for you today” Grayson beams as he barged his way into my room, holding the heavy box in his arms as he placed it beside my bed. I looked over at it and immediately dismissed its presence. “I didn’t order anything”. “It’s from her” he says quietly, standing beside it and staring like it contained a ticking time-bomb that would obliterate everything in its destruction. I threw my legs over the edge of my bed, the sudden surge of movement causing stars to appear before my eyes, but I shook off the dizziness and picked up the box, placing it on my lap. I punched a hole into the cardboard and ripped it open. Various objects flew into my vison, but most importantly a letter with ‘Ethan’ scrawled upon it caught my attention first. I opened it and scanned over the messily written words, forcing myself to read it over twice.
To my Ethan, the dork that I had the pleasure of loving,
So, if you’re reading this it means that I didn’t win, even though I promised I’d kick cancers ass. I know it was a promise that was hard to keep, but I honestly did try my hardest. So, like everything, I have a plan. Yes, another plan and before you start complaining and groaning like you always do, you’re going to shut up and listen (well read) this masterpiece. Because let’s be honest, every plan I have IS A GOD DAMN MASTERPIECE (But this is definitely top 5 of insanely impressive plans that I have created). Within this aesthetically pleasing box that I had creative myself, you will find a serious of items. 1. Multiple College Catalogues. Now, I know that you said you don’t want to go, even though it’s been 2 years since we’ve graduated, and I know that we have had a series of fights about this topic but guess what, I’m not there for you to fight me on it anymore so shut up and read the god damn catalogues and give it a shot. You’re so intelligent, and you can achieve anything you put your mind too and I just want you to reach your fullest potential. I personally have already highlighted some courses that I think you’d be amazing at, just saying. 2. Some really corny and cringe letters that I have written that YOU WILL READ BECAUSE I WROTE THEM OKAY. 3. 4 USB’s which contain FIRE PLAYLISTS BECAUSE I’M A MUSICAL GENIOUS. 4. A brief description of why I am a musical genius and why I selected this fire as mix tape. 5. A list of reasons for you to continue living without me. Yeah I know, gosh who brought the depressing vibes but I’m guessing because I am the most lovable person on this world, losing me will inevitably crush everyone because I am just so god damn amazing, but I don’t want you to not live because of me. And if you ever need a little help, this list is here. And finally 6. My bucket list that I didn’t get time to finish, so I want you to finish it for me.
I don’t want you to think about the life we could have had, or what could have been. I don’t want you to mourn me and think about how it ended. Instead, I just really want you to remember me as who I was before that day. I want you to remember how amazing my cooking was in comparison to your terrible pizza ideas, even though I strongly suggested that pineapple does in fact, not belong on pizza. I want you to remember all the long trips we took at night because I couldn’t sleep because god damn, those shows really screwed me up. I want you to remember everything, all the laughs, all the fights, all the first memories that we shared together and how I made you feel. Even as time passes and your memories start to fade, I want you to remember how you felt. I want you to feel everything. I don’t want you to live your life half-heartedly and playing it safe. I want you to throw yourself in the deep end and experience everything you can, even if it’s heartbreaking all over again. I want you love again, and love her more then you ever loved me, and I want you to have kids because even though I would have been the better parent out of the two of us, you will be an extraordinary father.
I love you, forever, and always.
And surely enough, all of the items she listed were placed neatly in the box just like she had planned. I didn’t realise that I was crying until Grayson held my body upright so I didn’t fall onto the ground. My chest was heaving up and down with so much pain that in that moment, I wished I wasn’t breathing at all. But you were right, I couldn’t live my life like this. So for you, my Y/N, I will do as you asked. I will teach your little brother to shave because your father doesn’t really shave at all, and I will look after your mother like I promised you I would. I’ll live my life as if you never left, and I know a part of you will forever be within me, and no one can ever replace that.
“My heart hurts” and “I’m afraid of everything” is probably one of the most difficult things to read in the letter. I know he fucked up and has to deal with the consequences but it hurts to know this. He is still the same precious sensitive man we “know”. I hope he takes care of himself and will be able to get through this with the support of his family. I just want him to be okay.
this time it is: Lin Manuel Miranda x reader, the reader auditions for Eliza and they fell in love at first sight and song.
this is rlly cute omg
heads up: you singing is this, and Lin singing is this.
Casting Call (Lin-Manuel Miranda/Reader)
All of the nerves you have been feeling for the past six months is beginning to build up.
Its finally the day!
You are finally auditioning for the role of Eliza in the London production of Hamilton! You had moved to London specifically for this reason around the time you heard that Rachelle Ann Go was leaving the cast as Eliza. Around that time, it was also announced that Lin-Manuel Miranda himself was reprising the role of Hamilton in the London production. You were so nervous. Lin had always been a major celebrity crush, and to find out that he was going to be in the show if you got the part…well, that was equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking.
It was a little shock, however, when the news came through that he had split with his wife because of the move to London. She hadn’t wanted to bring up their child in a foreign country, no matter whether they had the same language and similar traditions. That was apparently hard on him, but he soldiered through it by immersing himself in the London production.
It’s been six months since then, and he was back to normal, apparently.
You sit in the waiting room, leg jiggling as you concentrate on your breathing. As you glance around the room, you see so many perfect ‘Elizas’ waiting for their own name to be called. Some of them are crying. Some of them are silent. Quite a few are practicing their songs. They all sound much better than you, you think.
“Can we have (Name)? (Name) (Last Name)?” The casting director calls, and you take a deep breath, steeling your nerves.
You walk into the audition room, trembling with anticipation.
there he is
There they are!
A small fraction of the cast and Lin-Manuel Miranda himself are sitting at a table, X-factor style. His head is bowed over a notebook and his hair is obscuring his face, so you can’t discern his expression.
“Hi. I’m Rachel, I play Angelica.” Says a girl at the table, smiling reassuringly at you.
“I’m, uh, (Name) (Last Name).” You stutter.
Lin’s head whips up as though he’s been electrocuted.
His eyes meet yours.
An electric shock zings through your veins as his dark, intelligent eyes lock with yours.
You can feel yourself melting into a puddle at his intense gaze.
What’s going on? Is it the excitement of meeting my celebrity crush in person? You wonder.
You flush bright red and come back to reality as you hear Rachel talking still.
“Okay, so first we’re going to run through 'Burn’. After that, we’ll do 'Best of Wives and Best of Women’ to see how your voice sounds with Lin’s.”
“Oh, okay.” You say, and clear your throat as the beginning piano wafts through the air.
Your eyes slip shut as you immerse yourself in the music.
“I saved every letter you wrote me.
From the moment I read them I knew you were mine. You said you were mine. I thought you were mine.
Do you know what Angelica said when we saw your first letter arrive?
She said, 'Be careful with that one, love. He will do what it takes to survive.”
You pour every ounce of your being into your singing, not even focusing on sounding good, but focusing on making it as emotional as possible. As you get to the hurtful parts - “You forfeit all rights to my heart! You forfeit your place in our bed!” - your voice gets even more ragged and emotional, and you let it.
This isn’t about sounding good.
It’s about conveying feeling.
With your eyes shut, you fail to notice Lin’s astonished, awe-struck gaze as you sing your little heart out. He is staring at you as though you are the most beautiful being on the planet.
You reach the final line.
“I hope that you…burn…" You trail off at the end, letting tears slip freely down your face. You keep your eyes shut, too scared to open them, when you hear loud clapping.
"Brava!” Shouts a mans voice, and you open your eyes to see the whole table on their feet, clapping as though they never have before. They’re all crying, but the men are a little more subtle about it.
“Can we hire her right now?” Rachel teases, turning to Lin, who jumps and looks at her.
“I wish. That was amazing!” He replies, and you blush realising that this is the first time he’s spoken.
“So, shall we go through 'Best Of Wives’?” He asks, grinning and turning to you. You stutter at his direct address.
“S-sure!” You say, and Lin moves from behind the table and stands by him.
He’s so close, you can smell his cologne.
is that creepy? you don’t know…
The opening begins.
“Alexander, come back to sleep.”
“I have an early meeting out of town.”
Your voices harmonise nicely together, you note, flushing.
“It’s still dark outside.”
“I know, I just need to write something down.”
“Why do you write like you’re running out of time?”
“Come back to bed, that would be enough.”
“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”
“Come back to sleep.”
“This meeting’s at dawn.”
“Well, I’m going back to sleep.”
“Hey. Best of wives and best of women.”
As he finishes, Lin looks at you with a wide grin.
“I think we found her, guys!” He calls back to the others, who are all nodding in agreement.
“But we have to see the others, otherwise it’s not fair.” Rachel pouts.
“I know,” Lin visibly droops, and you giggle at his theatrics. He perks up when he hears your laugh and goes back to join the others.
“Goodbye, (Name). We’ll be in contact if you get the part, and from the looks of things, you will. Everyone else we’ve seen sounded like a robot.” Rachel wrinkles her nose.
“Bye.” You say, grinning, and bound out of the audition room. You’re halfway down the corridor when you hear a shout.
“Wait!” You turn around and see Lin hastily following you.
“Oh, uh. Hi.” You stutter, embarrassed to be alone with him. “I thought you would contact me if I got the part later?”
“Well, yeah, we will, but…” Lin seems to be struggling for words. “Could I…have your number for my personal phone?” He asks, and you gasp.
this is not happening
“Uh, uh, okay.” He passes you his phone and you input your number. “Can I ask…why?”
“Because, uh.” He flushes red. “I know I haven’t really talked to you, and I don’t know if you’re dating or not, but I find you really pretty. Plus you have a great voice, and, uh.”
You shock yourself with a sudden burst of confidence as you lean up and kiss his cheek.
“So…that’s your shirt,” said Anna, standing in the doorway of Elsa’s dorm room.
Elsa shrugged, tucked a slender thread of stray hair behind her ear, and smiled…Awkwardly? Guiltily? Bashfully? “Yes, I guess it is,” she said softly.
“That's… That’s okay, Els.” Anna was going to that year’s Pride Parade celebration, and Elsa had agreed to come. Quiet, serious Elsa. Anna’s friend since forever, who had supported her through all the big and little traumas of growing up, and through the confusing and painful and wonderful process of Anna discovering and accepting her own sexuality.
Anna had hinted, then cajoled, then everything but ordered Elsa to stand beside her and wear a t-shirt making a statement of her support. Elsa was there for her, like she had always been, even as Elsa was dating boys and Anna was dating girls. That should be enough. Anna would drop it.
After ONE more try. “Elsa, this is your chance to show the world what you believe. To show the world what you really feel.”
“I know, Anna. You’ve said.”
“I mean, I can’t make you do anything.”
“But I was… I’m glad that you’re standing with me, and I’m grateful, but your message to the world is a Jackson Pollock t-shirt?”
Elsa’s shirt was a random pattern of dots and splatter in every brilliant colour in the rainbow. It was beautiful, but if it was a reference to the rainbow flag, or the coloured flags representing the genders and orientations under the LGBTQ+ umbrella, it was damn subtle.
By contrast, Anna’s shirt read “LOVE IS NEVER WRONG” in bold letters, surrounded by every flag and symbol she could fit on there.
“It’s what I’m ready to show the world right now, Anna. I hope you’ll understand.”
Anna opened her mouth to speak, stopped herself, then resumed. Gently, she touched Elsa’s arm. “I do. And I’m sorry I was so pushy.”
“Pushy? You?” said Elsa, grinning. “Unprecedented.”
“You are okay with coming, right? I’m not pushing you into that?”
“I’ve been looking forward to it for days.” Elsa locked the door behind her, and they stepped out of the building and into the bright sunlight.
Anna put on her dark green sunglasses. “Let’s get…wait, what?!?”
Seeing Elsa’s shirt through her green-tinted vision, lettering appeared. In a secret message meant only for Anna, the shirt read, “Anna, you are dear to me, and I would very much like to try kissing you if that’s okay.”
“Elsa, is this for real? No joking?”
Her hands clasped behind her back, Elsa nodded, smiling nervously.
“But you're…I mean I thought you were…though god knows I used to think I was…” Anna snapped into a different gear. “But I kept saying this was about sending a message to the whole world.”
“Anna, you *are* my whole-”
“I swear to god, Elsa, if you finish that sentence-” Then Anna cut off her own sentence with the first of many kisses.
Oh anon… this is kind of hard to answer because I just sort of fell into it and now I honestly can’t really seriously see either of them with anyone else. Like I have other ships that I like, but when it comes right down to it, if I got to choose one ship from AA to make canon it’d be Narumayo.
At the beginning, I didn’t think much of it. Maya was still really young, and they met under pretty much the worst circumstance. But that terrible circumstance was what brought them so close together and ended up in a very long lasting friendship. They’ve been through so much together, they need each other.
Like I don’t care what your ultimate Ace Attorney OTP is, you cannot deny the fact that Phoenix and Maya love each other. It’s just up to you to decide whether you want to see it as platonic or romantic or maybe one leading into the other eventually.
Okay, originally this was a super long post but, everything I want to say is said way better in a post by the old mod of the Ask Ace Attorney blog:
PLEASE READ IT if you want to know why I ship them so hard. It’s long but worth it.
And since this post is older and we also have DD and SOJ now, let me just add that even though Maya wasn’t in Dual Destinies, the letter Phoenix receives from her cheers him up significantly at a time in the case where he’s feeling hopeless. It’s enough to get him motivated again, just a silly letter from Maya.
In Spirit of Justice, he is yet again blackmailed into defending some asshole he thinks is holding Maya hostage, and he begs Apollo not to accuse his client of murder because he’s scared of what will happen if he loses. And we also get gems like this:
Phoenix is never really violent or even tough but if you remember way back to his freaking college days when he was shoving people down for talking bad about his girlfriend, or when he slapped Lotta in JFA for insulting Maya, I wouldn’t doubt that he means what he says. Don’t tell me Phoenix wouldn’t go on some rampage of revenge if Maya was actually killed or even just injured bad enough. He’d probably break.
Ah there is so much more I want to say but just read the AAA blog post PLEASE.