⭐️🫆Miya🫆⭐️

Fandoms I’ll write for

•House MD •Stranger things

•Spree (2020 •Thunderbolts

•Fantastic four

Things I’ll write Things I won’t write

•Smut •Rape/non-con

•Reader insert •Proships

•Anything fluffy/angsty •incest

Who I’ll write for

•Eddie Munson •Steve Harrington •Kurt kunkle

•Robin Buckley •Nancy Wheeler •John Walker

•Bob Reynolds •Bucky Barnes •Reed Richard’s

•Johnny Storm •James Wilson •Gregory House

•Robert Chase •Peter Parker

(please clarify if you want mlm, wlw or mlw)

Ships

•Byler •Steddie •Hilson •Lumax

Dear friend,

I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn't try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have. Please don't try to figure out who she is because then you might figure out who i am, and i really dont want you to do that.

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Remus sat at his desk with a pen in hand and his headphones on. His desk was a muddled mess of paper, books and dirty cups, making him write his letter on the very edge of his desk. His room was a dimly lit space with empty walls and clothes stacked neatly around the room but not put away.

Remus was an odd contradiction of a boy. He liked everything to be tidy and neat but no matter how hard he tried the mess always built up and he never had the energy to clean up. as a young boy he was always praised for being bright and further ahead than the other people in his class but now he felt lightyears behind everybody else. He despised the summer holidays because he had no one to do anythimg with but he hated school just as much, for the same reasons. remus used to have friends that he could do stuff with, before they left him.

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I will call people by generic names because I don’t want you to find me. I didn’t encloses return address for the same reason. I don’t mean anything bad by this. Honest. I just need to know that someone somewhere listens and understands and doesnt try to sleep with people even if they could have. I need to know that they exist.

I think you of all people would understand that because i think that you of all peole are alive and appreciate what that means. So this is my life. And I want you to know that i am both happy and sad and im still trying to figure out how that could be.

I try to think of my family as a reason for me being this way, especially after my friend Grant stopped showing up at school. One day last spring we heard our principles voice over the loudspeaker, steady and dull as usual. Too bored for what he was announcing.

“Boys and girls, I regret to inform you that one of our students has passed away. We will be holding a memorial assembly this Friday for Grant Chapman.”

I don’t know how news travels so quickly around school or how it is very often right. But a boy whose name i dont remember, with awkward glasses and buck teeth, told a table of overly nosy other kids and me that Grant killed himself. His mum played bridge with one of Grant’s neighbours and they heard the gunshot.

I don’t really remember much of what happened after I found out what happened except that my cousin came into my school to tell me to stop crying. He put his arm around my shoulder and told me to get it out of my system and to ‘man up’ before my father got home. He took me to McDonald’s after and we sat together near the window and ate fries and he taught me how to play pinball. He even made a joke that because of me he got to skip a whole day of school and asked me if I wanted to help him work on his Camaro. I guess I must have looked pretty pathetic, he never lets anyone touch his Camaro.

The school made the few of us that liked Grant go to counselling sessions. At these sessions, they asked us all to say a few words. I think the school was afraid that we might try to kill ourselves like it was something that spread through close contact and we were all infected because we had been friends with Grant.

This girl, Pandora, who is a bit crazy said that sometimes she thought about suicide when commercials came on whilst watching tv. She said it very sincerely and this puzzled the guidance counsellor. Frank who is very nice to everyone said that he’s very sad but cannot kill himself because it’s a sin. This one guidance counsellor went through the whole group before he came to me.

“And what about you Remus? How do you feel? What do you think?”

What I found strangest about this was the fact that I’d never met or seen this man before because he was a specialist and he knew my name even though I wasn’t wearing a name tag.

“Well I think that it is very sad because Grant was a nice guy and I don’t know why he did it. As much as I do feel sad I think not knowing why he did it is what really bothers me.”

I just reread that and it really doesn’t sound like how I talk. Especially not how I spoke when I was in that office because I was crying still. I never did stop crying.

The counsellor said that he suspects that Grant had ‘problems at home’ and that he felt like he had no one to talk to. That maybe he felt alone and didn’t see another way out so he killed himself. Then, I started screaming at the guidance counsellor that Grant could have talked to me. He always could have talked to me, about anything because I talked to him about everything and he was the only person I did talk to when things made me feel bad. And then I started crying even harder. The counsellor tried to calm me down by saying that he meant Grant couldn’t talk to an adult like a teacher. But it didn’t work and I couldn’t stop crying. The tears were choking me and my lungs burnt like I’d ran a marathon. Eventually my cousin had to come to pick me up from school to take me out in his Camaro again.

For the rest of the school year, the teachers treated me differently and gave me better grades even though I hadn’t gotten any smarter. To tell you the truth I think I made them nervous.

Grant’s funeral was strange because his father didn’t cry. Not even a sniffle which was very weird because I felt like I couldn’t stop crying and Grant wasn’t even my family. I can’t imagine losing a son and not crying. Three months later Grants dad left Grants mum. At least according to the boy, whose name i cant remember, at lunchtime.

I think about it sometimes, what dinner time is like at Grants house. He never left a note or at least his parents never let anyone see it. Maybe it was 'problems at home'. Maybe he did feel 'alone'. I wish I knew why he did it. He was my best friend and i loved him a lot. It might make me miss him more clearly. Understanding why he left might make the sadness make sense. One thing i do know is that it makes me wonder if i have problems at home but it seems to me that a lot of other people have it worse. Like when my sister, Marlene's first boyfriend started going around with another girl and Marlene cried for a week. My dad simply said, "There are other people who have it a whole lot worse." And my mum stayed quiet. And that was that. I think that this was a particularly cruel thing for my dad to say to Marlene though because he isnt her dad. Marlene isnt really my sister. I've known her since primary school and she is the daughter of my mums friend. I suppose you could say that she had problems at home because her dad is very mean to her and calls her slurs because she 'acts like a lesbian' and she couldnt stand living at home anymore, so shes lived with us for the last year and a half.

A month later, Marlene met a knew boy and started playing happy songs again. And my dad kept on working. And my mum kept cleaning and fretting. And my cousin kept fixing his camaro. everything kept on going the way it always did. That was, until my cousin Lycaon left for university at the beginning of summer. He had to start Uni earlier than everyone else because he had to resit his BTEC for his sport diploma to get into his Uni class. He plays rugby at the London Metropolitan University and he is so good that he got into the Uni on a scholarship. I dont think that there is a favourite child in our odd shaped, franken family. There are three of us and i am the youngest, and my parents only biological child. My cousin, Lycaon, is the oldest and he is my uncle Greyback's son. He is a very good rugby player and loves his car a lot. Marlene is very pretty and cool looking. She is mean to the boys that like her and even the boys that she likes. You would think that she doesnt actually like boys very much. Marlene is the middle child. I get straight A's now, like Marlene, so thats why my parents mainly leave me alone.

My mum cries a lot during TV programmes. My dad works a lot and is a very honest man. He works in animal control and keeps peoples houses safe from dangerous beasts like wolves. My uncle Greyback used to say that my dad was too proud to have a midlife crisis. It took me until around now to understand what he meant by that because my dad just turned forty and nothing has changed. My uncle Greyback was my favourite person ever in the whole world. He was my mum's brother and he called me his angel. He wasnt very smart when he was a teenager and liked to act stupid. Mum says he was so uncontrollable as a kid that he may aswell have been a rabid stray. But he was very fun and my favourite nonetheless. He would buy me books all the time and my dad would tell me that they were 'too old for me' but he let me read them anyway because i liked them. He lived with my family for the last few years of his life because something very bad happened to him.

Nobody would tell me what had happened to Uncle Greyback even though i always wanted to know. When i was around five I stopped asking about it because I kept asking like kids do and my Uncle went very quiet and hid his face in his hands. Thats when my dad slapped me and shouted, "Youre hurting your uncles feelings!" I didnt want to do that so i didnt ask again. Uncle Greyback told my dad not to hit me in front of him again and my dad said that this was his house and he would do whatever he wanted and my mum was quiet and so were Lycaon and Marlene. I dont remember much more than that because i started to cry really hard and after a while my dad had my mum take me upstairs to my room. It wasnt until much later that my mum had drank a few glasses of wine and got loose enough that she told me what had happened to her brother. Some people really do have it a lot worse than i do. They really really do.

I should probably go to sleep now. Its very late. I dont know why i wrote a lot of this down for you to read. The actual reason i wrote this letter is because tomorrow i go into year nine and it is my first day at my new school. My mum thought itd be best if i transferred after the Grant stuff but i really afraid of going.