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#emily dickinson x you
scmg11 · 3 months
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EMILY DICKINSON x READER
YOU CANNOT PUT A FIRE OUT
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A/N: HELLO HELLOO! How are you guys doing? Missed me?
Enjoy this new chapter ❤️
Sending you love ❤️
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Summary: Emily meets Y/N at the well one day and just falls in love for her. When she tries to find her again the next days, it seems like she just disappeared. She was ready to lose hope when one day she finds her in her house to start a job as her new maid with her aunt Maggie. What will happen then?
Warnings: just slightly groping, nothing too much explicit.
Word count: 15380 words.
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The sun beamed all over the expanse of the Dickinson’s garden, warming up Emily’s face as she decided to spend her morning outside, leaning on her favorite three and just soaking up in the calmness that was the nature. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the tree’s trunk surface to take a few moments of quietness in, smiling widely when she heard a few birds chirping around her, setting a warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest that always put her in a good mood. "Emily!"
The brown haired girl sighed loudly at her moment being ruined and tried to drown the sound away, but she heard it again a few seconds later and inevitably opened her eyes and turned towards the source of the sound coming from her right side, right where her house was, "yes?" Emily had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes when her mother called her name once again, ignoring her answering to her calls and making her sit up and abandon her morning in the nature to go and see whatever she needed from her.
"Emily?! Emily?!" The brown haired girl scoffed under her breath on her way back to her house, she knew her mother had head her when she was leaning on the tree but called her over nonetheless and was keeping calling her despite seeing her walking over her house, "oh Emily, dear, you’re here."
"Yes mom, what did you need? I was enjoying my day out in nature."
"I am sure it can wait, honey. I need you to go fetch water."
"Why can’t Austin or Lavinia do it?"
As if on cue the blonde made her appearance from behind Emily’s mother with what Emily deemed her trademark adorable frown since they were kids, "I did it yesterday and Austin is a man. He can’t do it."
"Right, you would believe he would be perfect for it since men’s are always bragging about themselves being strong, stronger than women, when in fact they are staying all day behind a desk while women do all the physical, exhausting stuff."
"You’re talking nonsense sweetheart." Emily rolled her eyes right in her mother’s face and grabbed the two empty buckets she had in her hands and trudged begrudgingly outside her house to walk towards the well to go fetch water as her mother asked her to.
-
"Oh no, I’m so sorry! I should’ve watched where I was going! Oh no, your dress is completely drenched, here let me help you." In mere seconds Emily bumped accidentally into a girl carrying four buckets full of water, resulting in one of them spilling over her blu navy dress, but got also got flooded with a multitude of rushed words of regret and of apology, an adorable sight that made Emily forget about her dress being completely drenched in the late summer weather.
"Don’t worry, it’s totally fine. I wasn’t watching where I was going, I had my head elsewhere. So I should be the one apologizing." Emily smiled reassuringly at the distressed girl as she desperately tried to find something to dry Emily’s dress.
"No, no. It was my fault!"
Emily tried to look at the girl’s face but it was completely covered by her hair cascading in front of it as she had her head down in search of a cloth in her small apron’s pocket she had around her hips, "I insist on taking the blame. Hey, please stop worrying. It will dry up eventually, it’s not a big deal."
"No, no. It should be here. I had it here an hour ago!"
"Hey, please. Relax, take a deep breath." Emily tried to calm the girl down and for the first time she seemed to do listen to her, sighing loudly as she took her hands out of her apron’s pocket and lifted her head up slowly.
Emily felt like the world stopped existing for just a moment when her eyes met the girl’s ones, establishing a connection that send a thrill down her spine and that lighted up her whole body, a sensation she had never felt before. "Are you okay?"
Emily took her time to commit to memory every single feature on the girl’s face, from the perfect slope of her nose to the soft bump of her cheekbones, from the gentle but still defined angle of her jaw, to the smooth surface of her chin and finally focusing all her attention on the plumpness of her velvety lips. Emily almost got lost again in the vastness of the girl’s eyes when she met them again that she almost forgot to answer the girl’s question, making her appear a bit dumb in front of her for gawking at her, "yeah, yes. I’m fine. Totally fine. Great. Hm-." Emily cleared her throat to stop herself from embarrassing herself some more continued with a regained composure, "how about you? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I am fine. Thank you."
"Good, I’m glad to hear that." Emily smiled gently at the girl before shaking her head as if she was the dumbest person on earth, "I’m Emily by the way."
"Y/N." The girl smiled gently at the poet while putting a strand of hair that fell in front of her face behind her ear, a gesture that made Emily’s brain melt as she took in the girl’s beauty.
"Y/N." Emily repeated, testing the girl’s name out, feeling a warmth spreading throughout her entire body as the name rolled over her tongue. "I like it. Y/N. It’s a really pretty name."
"Thank you. Emily is a great name too."
"Yeah, it has a Latin origin, it-."
"It’s a Roman name. It means laborious and eager among other things." Y/N interjected the brunette before she could speak and Emily had never felt so infatuated by someone in so little time.
"Yeah, how do you know that?"
"I like reading a lot. I do it whenever I can." Emily didn’t know it could have been possibile being interested in someone in so very little time, but she was starting to feel something for this girl, something she had only felt for one person only before.
"I like that too, a lot. What are you reading right now?"
"I just finished reading ‘The Old Curiosity Shop’ by Dickens. I liked it. What about you?"
"I am in the middle of reading The Divine Comedy by Dante. I’m halfway through Inferno."
"Oh I liked it a lot even though Purgatorio and Paradiso are just as beautiful. I mean his writing style gets more complex and more refined after each part."
Emily felt like she was floating through a new dimension where only Y/N and her existed, instigating a myriad of new emotions Emily never felt before that mixed with a few ones she only felt for Sue. "Wow, I-. I don’t know what to say. It’s the first time I hear someone talk about Dante’s amazing work without it being repeated from some stupid journalist’s review. No one really care to really read it. Or at least comprehend its real meaning behind his words."
"Because not everyone can see through what’s in front of them. There’s beauty hidden in every single thing we know, creating something new that just awaits to be discovered, studied. Most people just waits for someone else to do it." Y/N reasoned with a shrug, like she just didn’t made Emily fall madly in love with her brain.
"Wow- I- I feel like you had been in my mind and found a way to make it speak for itself. You-."
"Y/N! Are you ready to go?!" The poet got interrupted by a loud voice coming from behind Emily and when she turned around to look at who was yelling, she found a middle-aged woman with blonde hair styled in a perfect, classy bun, a blue dress with an apron on her front similar to Y/N’s one waving at her from the grocery’s shop a few feet from them.
"Sorry, I need to go. It was great talking with you Emily."
Emily felt her stomach drop at the aspect of having to part ways with Y/N, trying to find a way to prolong their time together. As she closed herself in her mind to think she didn’t notice Y/N refilling the bucket she unwillingly spilled over Emily and walked towards the woman, saluting Emily with a small nod. The gesture pulled Emily out of her thoughts and coming up empty-handed with ideas to make Y/N stay with her a bit longer, she could only sigh out loud, resigned but also completely smitten for the Y/H/C girl, before letting out softly, "the pleasure was all mine Y/N."
-
"Emily, where is the water?"
"What?" Emily got ripped out of her own thoughts full of the mysterious and intriguing Y/N by her mother as soon as she entered her house, her mother stopping her in their small hallway in front of the door and the living rooms before she could run upstairs and let her thoughts flow freely as she wrote a poem or two.
"The water Emily. I sent you fetching water an hour ago. Where is it?"
"Oh shit!" Emily just then noticed she came home empty-handed, she forgot her empty buckets at the well after her encounter with Y/N. "I forgot them at the well!"
"How?! You went there just for fetching water. How did you manage to forget that Emily?"
"I- I gotta go. Later!"
"Emily!"
"I don’t have time mom, I need to-." Emily got stopped mid-sentence and in her track towards her house’s door by her mother’s authoritative voice calling her from the living room.
"Emily! Come here, now."
"Mom, I have everything under control. I got distracted and I forgot the buckets there. I will be quick. I will go get them, fetch water and come back here." Emily explained quickly, hoping her mother wouldn’t be so much angry at herself for not doing what she asked her to do and getting ready for her scolding when she sighed out loud, pinched the bridge of her nose angrily and closed her eyes.
"It’s not that Emily. You are always avoiding doing chores, always complaining about them and never doing them in the end. It’s time for you to grow up. You will need to know how to be a proper housewife."
"But mom, I-."
"No buts." Emily’s mother ended their discussion with those final words spoken with authority and nodded at her daughter when she nodded dejected at her not winning this argument. "Since Lavinia is going to get a few groceries from the store and I’m going with her with the carriage, I’m going to go fetch water, while you’ll go into your room and think about what you did."
"Okay, mom. I’m so sorry." Emily’s mother smiled gently at her daughter for apologizing and laid a soft kiss on her forehead before she walked towards the stairs that would led to the first floor where the bedrooms were. She smiled apologetically at her mother once again but before she could go up the stairs and into her room to think and most importantly let her mind flow with writing her poems, she got stopped in her tracks.
"What is happening here?" Emily turned around at the sound of her father’s voice reaching her ears as he made his way into the living room after exiting his office, where he had been holed up the whole morning.
"Edward, your daughter Emily this morning was tasked to go fetch water and after disappearing for more than an hour, she also forgot our buckets at the well. Unbelievable!" Emily hung her head down in shame and closed her eyes to get herself ready for one of her father’s scoldings, not particularly thrilled on having her good mood ruined right now, but she had a feeling it was coming anyway as it was well due after her forgetting their buckets at the well.
"But also hilarious." Emily lifted her head up in shock after hearing her father’s words, not exactly expecting them, and widened her eyes comically. What was actually hilarious to Emily was her mother’s bewildered expression that stretched over her face as she stared in shock at her father. If she wasn’t already walking on thin ice, she would have laughed at her mother’s expression, so she kept quiet and listened to the conversation unfolding in front of her.
"Excuse me, dear, what?!"
"Oh c’mon, Mrs. Dickinson. You have to admit, it’s funny." Emily laughed nervously when her father started laughing loudly while looking at her mother then at her.
"But-." Emily bit on her bottom lip to prevent her smile to widen when her mother tried to reason with her father but he waved her off with a few chuckles still coming out of his lips.
"Oh, come on now Mrs. Dickinson. I know you want to laugh." Edward smiled at his wife and pointed his finger at the blonde woman, not putting it down until she saw a small grin making its way onto the woman’s lips, "ah there it is!"
"Oh dear, always finding a way to laugh! Anyway, I’m going with Lavinia to the grocery store and to retrieve our buckets to fetch water for dinner tonight."
"Great, I’m coming with you girls. I need to go to speak to Ronald about a really important matter I worked on this morning."
"Oh that’s wonderful, dear. Emily, why don’t you make it up to us by starting dinner?" Emily almost let her jaw drop down on the floor at her mother’s request. She knew she wasn’t a great cook, she hated cooking and something always ended up catching fire. But she also knew this was her mother’s way to tell her she wasn’t forgiven for the fetching water fiasco as her father made it sound and as much as she wanted to fight over it, she knew there wasn’t a way out of this. Oh, well it was worth a try.
"Mom, I don’t th-."
"Oh what a wonderful idea Mrs. Dickinson! I can’t wait to taste what you will prepare for us Emily! Let’s go now, we are gonna be late!"
Emily sighed dejected while making her way towards the kitchen to start up dinner and as she tried to not set the whole house on fire, she let her mind fill with the few memories she had of Y/N. She was fascinating, captivating, alluring. She piqued Emily’s interest with just a few words and when Y/N expressed her passion for books, ignited a fire in Emily that had been extinguished since she had broken things off with Sue. Could that mean something? Emily was sure she felt their souls connect in such a raw and deep way she had never experienced before, but would that be enough for Y/N as it was for her? As she started baking the freshly made loaf of bread, a sudden need to know if Y/N felt the same hit her and with a renewed determination she set her mind to try to encounter the Y/H/C girl the next morning.
-
"Good morning my dear mother." Emily entered the kitchen with a grin so bright they could have used it to light up the whole house at night, arousing suspects from her mother that stared at her warily as she watched her make her way towards her as she prepared their breakfast.
"Emily, good morning to you too. Did something happen that put you in a good mood?"
"Nothing in particular. I just woke up like this today. Do you need help? I still want to make it up to you again for yesterday. Maybe I can go fetch the water again? This time I will bring back the buckets, I promise." Emily tried to be as subtle as she could without making her mother ask the real reasons behind her intentions on wanting to go fetch water, finishing with a joke to sell it better.
"Oh sweety, what a wonderful idea. You can help me with putting everything in the living room. And don’t worry about fetching water, Vinnie already went this morning."
With her heart sinking down in her stomach, she reluctantly grabbed the tray full of their breakfast her mother already prepared to the living room, trudging a bit in her steps as she tried to think of another strategy to meet Y/N again.
-
"Emily can you please help me with dinner?"
"I can’t mom, I need to write. I don’t have time to help you with dinner or chores."
"Well, I am sure it can wait." Emily snorted under her breath at her mother’s rebuttal as she made her way into her room.
"No mom, it sadly can’t. When words flow out of me I can’t stop them or ask them to wait to help with chores."
"It’s worth a try, isn’t it? I need help Emily, Vinnie is setting the table after cleaning the house, so you’re the one who will help me. C’mon, it will be fun!"
"I’m sure it will, but I really can’t right now. It would be so much easier if we get a housemaid to help you out."
"You are talking nonsense Emily, I am perfectly capable of doing it all by myself and with the help of my daughters everything can be done faster, so now please come down with me and help me out. You will write later." Emily sighed out as she let her pencil fall down on her desk, the soft clinking sound of the pencil hitting the wooden surface of her desk calmed Emily just a little, making a quick grin appear on her lips before a small frown took its place. The poet sat up slowly from her desk, placing both of her hands on it to slowly stand up, the screeching sound of the chair moving back filling the sudden silent room as her mother watched her movements with rapt attention.
"I will help you for just a bit, but I can’t take too long on helping you with chores because I’m really trying to finish a poem."
"That’s the spirit! C’mon honey, I will show you how to make the perfect roasted chicken that will make you the perfect housewife every gentleman would love to marry."
More like gentlewoman. Emily added in her mind and as soon as that thought came into her mind, Y/N appeared right after as she smiled lovingly at her. That instantly made Emily stop in her tracks on the stairs, watching blankly her mother’s back as she descended the stairs and rambled about roasted chicken Emily wasn’t interested in listening at the moment. What made Emily freeze in her spot was the fact that for the first time since she could remember she didn’t imagine marrying Sue. She imagined Y/N. And that thought excited her to no end, instead of scaring her. "Shit." Emily sighed dopily as she smiled with her eyes full of love as another image of Y/N waving at her entered her mind.
"Emily, hurry up!" Emily let her dumb smile linger a few more seconds on her features before shaking her head and resuming her way down the stairs to join her mother in the kitchen and help her with their dinner.
-
"We should hire a maid to help mom out in the house."
"What?"
"We should hire a maid to help mom out in the house."
"I heard you the first time dear, I was just shocked by the request." Edward smiled gently at her daughter repeating herself before going back to being serious as he regarded her with a curious look in his features. "Why should we hire a maid? Your mother is perfectly capable of doing a good job here."
"Ah- a great job dear! I told you this earlier Emily. We don’t need a maid."
"But it would be so much easier for you. For all of us! She would help mom with chores so she doesn’t tire herself out every single day. And she would do a lot of things mom asks me or Vinnie to do. C’mon dad, think about it!"
"Well-."
"Edward you are not seriously considering it, aren’t you?"
"Honey, she is not completely wrong. She would help you out, you know I hate how much tired you are at the end of the day."
They kept discussing it for a few more minutes as they enjoyed their dinner but when the dessert came, her mother served it in an unsettling silence so they moved onto a new subject Emily wasn’t interested in listening. As she ate her dessert she couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on her mother a few times and observed her as she stayed quiet for the rest of the dinner with a sad expression on her features. Despite her mother not taking assuming a maid to help her too well, Emily was sure she will come around eventually. Emily knew she was asking to hire a maid to have more time to write but she also really wanted her to help her mother and ease her load of work to do in the house.
-
"Good morning dear family."
"Good morning to you too Edward." Emily’s mother smiled widely at her husband as she finished serving everybody’s breakfast before her grin got ten times wider and brighter when Edward leaned over and kissed her gently.
"Hm, I can smell so many delicious things today." Emily watched as her father sat down in his chair and brought up his newspaper to read the news, his smile never dampening.
"I can see you are in a good mood this morning, dear."
"Because I am."
"I’m glad to hear that, honey."
"How is my family doing this morning?" Edward brought his newspaper down after reading a few paragraphs of the first news and took a sip of his tea, then moving onto taking a bite of her wife’s famous scones, humming in satisfaction at the taste.
"I am good dad, I just finished reading an article about financial management that I found pretty interesting." Austin was the first to speak up after taking a sip of his own tea, smiling at his father as he did so when he nodded at him in understanding.
"And what about my girls?"
"Last night I finished sewing a pillow for my cat, he loves it!" Lavinia announced with a bright grin, her enthusiasm filling the room as everyone at the table smiled at the ecstatic blonde.
"I finished a few poems I was working on."
"That’s great guys, I see everyone is proud of their achievements! But now let’s move on why I am in a good mood today. There is a reason and that said reason is- after considering it for the last few days, I decided that we will hire a maid to help in the house!"
"What?!" Everyone exclaimed at the table at the same time with excited tones, except for Mrs. Dickinson, who looked at her husband like he went completely nuts.
"Yeah!" Edward smiled alongside his son and daughters, not noticing her wife’s expression yet, "I thought about it and in the end it was a really great idea Emily!"
"I’m so happy to hear that dad!"
"Honey, why are you doing this?" Mrs. Dickinson finally found her voice to speak up and asked in a strained tone the first thing that came up in her hazed mind still shocked from the news Edward delivered.
"Oh dear, it will be good for the house and for you. You tire yourself up too much for this house."
"But- I’m fine."
"I know you want to make it look like it, but I know some days are really stressful. I see how spent you are after those days at night. I’m doing this for you too!" Edward explained calmly as he enjoyed his breakfast, his good mood still on.
"Yeah, I can be a little tired, but a great night of sleep sweeps it all away and restores my energy back."
"I am sure of that, but it will good! We can do more small trips or spend days differently when I am not working and you’re not thinking about doing any kind of chore in the house."
"Yeah, mom, it will be good for everyone here, you’ll see!" Austin butted in with a cheerful tone and nodded at her mother still looking worried and skeptic.
"Yeah mom, you can finally focus on yourself a bit more." Lavinia then decided to add her thoughts too, trying to encourage her mother on relaxing on this topic, although she knew it was a sore spot since she always aspired to be a great housewife and having a maid restrained her from doing that in her mind.
"Mom, think about it, you can find a new hobby with the extra free time you will have!" It was Emily this time that spoke up, encouraging her mother with a brighter-than-the-sun grin that unfortunately her mother didn’t reciprocate as she stayed frozen in her chair with her eyebrows furrowed together and a sad expression on her features.
"See? The kids have all good points!" Edward looked at his wife with a wide grin, nodding at her encouragingly, "anyway, the decision is already made. They are coming here tonight."
"They?" Emily wanted to snort under her breath at the outraged tone her mother used to pose the question to her father, but decided to stay still for once and enjoy the show in front of her.
"Yeah, two of them. One of my dearest friends is moving to Minnesota and he doesn’t need his maids anymore since he won’t take them with him, so they are coming here. He told me they are the best maids in Amherst. An Irish woman and her niece."
"That’s so exciting!" Lavinia exclaimed as she clapped her hands enthusiastically, making Emily and Austin smile fondly at her.
-
"Ah, good evening! Come inside please!"
"Good evening Mr. Dickinson." Emily could hear from downstairs his father greeting guests at the door but she shrugged and went back to her poem, but for some reason her attention shifted back to the new guests in their house and after a few more attempt of focusing to write a few more lines in vain, the poet gave up and sighed out loud as she placed everything in her small drawer in her desk, before sitting up from the chair and making her way downstairs to greet their guests.
"We’re so happy to have you here!"
"The pleasure is all ours Mr. Dickinson." An Irish accent waved through the air, increasing Emily’s curiosity and made her almost sprint down the stairs to go see the new maids as soon as she realized who their guests were.
"Oh Lavinia, come here. They are our new maids."
"Nice to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you Miss Dickinson." Something like a familiar voice reached Emily’s ears as she descended the last few steps and almost fell down of them when she got at the top of the last set of stairs and her eyes met with a pair of wonderful, familiar irises.
"The pleasure is all mine, trust me!"
"Ah, Emily! You are here too. They are our new maids."
"Oh hello Miss Dickinson."
"Good evening Miss Dickinson."
"H-hello. Just call me Emily, please." The poet found the strength to descend the last few steps and even talk coherently before walking slowly towards the two new guests in her house, stopping right beside her father.
"You will meet my son soon. He is coming here with his wife tonight. And about my wife, I really don’t know where she is." Edward joked, making the two guests laugh softly under their breath, clear, wide smiles etched on their lips. "Anyway, they are Mrs. Maggie and Miss Y/N."
"It’s a real pleasure meeting you both." Lavinia butted in sincerely and nodded at them softly, meanwhile Emily still tried to properly kickstart her brain.
"It’s a pleasure for me too. I hope you will enjoy staying here."
"Oh Miss Dickinson, I am sure it will be amazing staying here." Maggie countered back with a warm grin, mirrored by Y/N right after with a small nod of her head.
"Alright, girls would you mind showing them around?"
"I need to finish a few things for my art lesson tomorrow." Lavinia admitted dejectedly and the fact that she could potentially be alone with Y/N again thrilled Emily to no end.
"I can show them around the house, no problem Vinnie. Dad we will see you later."
"Okay, have fun!" Emily smiled and nodded at her father before dorkily lifting her thumb up and saluted him before signaling Y/N and Maggie to follow her in the kitchen.
"Alright, this is the kitchen. A place my mom likes to call her kingdom." Emily joked with a soft snort that morphed into a squeal when her mother appeared out of nowhere.
"That’s right dear."
"Mom! You scared our guests!"
"I think you were the most scared here, honey." Emily rolled her eyes at her mother’s teasing and shook her head with an amused smile.
"Mom, they are Y/N and Maggie. Our new maids."
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Dickinson." Y/N was the first to speak up, trying to look cool when inside she was freaking out about meeting Emily again. She thought she would’ve never encountered her again.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Dickinson."
"You are so young Maggie." Emily smiled subtly as she sunk her teeth on her bottom lip to prevent to be caught laughing about her mother being so caught up in being mad for having maids in their house that she didn’t even pay attention remember their names, since she called Y/N Maggie.
"Mom, she is Y/N. She is Maggie." Emily emphasized the word ‘she’ as she pointed to the redhead and noticed, to her surprise, that both of their guests had amusement on their faces.
"Oh sorry, I have a terrible headache and I do not have my usual laser focused attention on anything today." Emily’s mother tried to cover up her mistake with a made up lie and laughed softly to light the air up quickly.
"Ah you should see me with an headache, I don’t even walk straight. I bump into things all the time." The redhead joked before moving on telling Emily’s mother an old Irish remedy for headache.
-
After a delicious dinner her mother prepared Y/N and Maggie disappeared into the kitchen to clean everything up, despite her mother’s protests, who in the end stayed still in her loveseat in the living room. The whole family stayed about an half an hour to chat, before everyone called it a night, saying goodbye to Sue and Austin, before going upstairs to sleep. Emily stayed in the living room a little bit more to pretend to read, staring at the words written on her book, as she waited for the perfect moment to ‘casually bump’ into Y/N before she could go to sleep in her room. Luckily she didn’t have to wait too long. "Go to bed aunt Maggie. We are almost done. I can finish the last touches myself."
"Are you sure?" Emily could hear the hesitation in Maggie’s tone, not wanting her niece to finish alone, but she could already picture Y/N protest with a resolute nod despite not knowing the girl at all except for a few details they shared a few days prior.
"I am sure auntie. Go. I will finish this up quickly and I will go to sleep too."
"Okay munchkin. Don’t wear yourself out. We have to wake up early tomorrow for breakfast."
"I won’t. Goodnight auntie."
"Goodnight Y/N/N." Emily immediately moved herself from her position on the loveseat as she was leaning over to take a small peak from the kitchen and eavesdrop as good as she could and pretended to casually read before Maggie could catch her. "Oh Miss Dickinson, still up?"
"Oh hey, Maggie. Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to read for a bit hoping sleep to find me."
"Ah, you should try the concoction my uncle used to make me when I couldn’t sleep. It was disgusting but it always made me sleep like a baby." Maggie delivered another one of her great and funny anecdotes to give her personal advice and Emily smiled kindly up at her as she caressed the pages of her book.
"One of these days you could make me some and we will see if it works for me too!"
"Alright. Goodnight Miss Dickinson."
"Goodnight Maggie." Emily smiled widely at the redhead before watching her walk up the stairs until she disappeared behind the wall. Emily stayed still for a few more seconds, listening for Maggie’s room’s door to close before immediately closing her book and sitting up, placed the book back in its designated place and almost sprinted into the kitchen, excited to finally spend some time alone with Y/N. She had been trying to do that for the whole evening, but she always had something to do with someone always in the way.
"Spying on people is wrong Miss Dickinson." Emily jumped up in fright as she had been caught staring from the threshold of the kitchen Y/N putting the plates they used during their dinner in the cabinet on top of the counter.
"Sorry, I was watching you work."
"Yeah, I noticed it." Emily smiled as her teeth sunk in her bottom lip at Y/N’s sarcastic counter back and walked into the kitchen, stopping right in front of Y/N, the kitchen’s wooden table separating them. The fire in the fireplace was still crackling softly in the silent room, bathing the room with an orange light that highlighted Y/N’s Y/E/C irises and almost made Emily faint at such ethereal beauty.
"Have you finished yet? You must be tired."
"I am, just a bit, but I am almost finished."
"Do you need some help?" Emily asked in hope Y/N would say yes, so she could prove to her she wasn’t the snotty rich girl that didn’t want to help in her house with chores. She didn’t exactly know why, but she just wanted to do it.
"No don’t worry. Aren’t you tired?"
"Not at all, I tend to have a lot of energy at night."
"Oh so you sleep during the day?"
"Not really. I am not a morning person, but I don’t oversleep."
"Oh I see." Emily detected a sarcastic lilt in Y/N’s tone and immediately wanted to prove to Y/N she wasn’t a lazy person.
"I swear I am not! Do you remember when we met a few days ago? It was around 7 a.m.! That was early in the morning!"
"Yeah, but I also remember that after that you forgot your buckets at the well." Y/N teased making Emily drop her jaw on the floor flabbergasted, making Y/N snort under her breath.
"I-I was distracted! I wanted to get them back but my mother prevented me to and did it herself."
"Yeah, I saw her." Y/N still had an amused grin on her lips but Emily could see the entertainment in her eyes that made Emily realize she was just messing with her and for a mysterious reason Emily wanted her to keep going, she wanted to be the subject of her teasing and entertainment just to see her smile.
"I tried to find you again at the well the next few days but I never did."
"Yeah, I was busy in the house helping Mr. Peterson with packing all his family’s stuff for their moving."
"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." Emily nodded in understanding before detaching her eyes from Y/N’s magnetic ones and focused instead on her wringing hands.
"Did you finish Dante’s Divina Commedia?"
"Yeah, last night actually. This morning I tried to find something new to start but nothing piqued my interest." Emily admitted after moving her gaze back on Y/N, who now placed the cloth she had previously in her hands neatly folded on the table.
"Ah I see. It happens to me all the time."
"Do you have some recommendations?"
"Hm, I need to think about it. I am a little bit tired and I can’t actually think about anything worth your while right now." Y/N chuckled after finishing speaking as she shyly made her way towards Emily, who stood a few feet from her.
"Oh then I won’t keep you away from sleeping."
"No, no. Don’t worry. I like talking to you but for now, as late as it is, I would like to keep our conversation as simple as possible."
"That’s fine by me."
"Do you want to stay here or-."
Emily didn’t let Y/N finish as she spoke up without thinking, blurting words out without any control, "we can go up to my room."
Y/N seemed taken aback for a few quick moments before a mischievous grin replaced the confused frown she had on, "oh I see where this is going."
"What-? OH! NO, NO, NO, NO! Y/N!" Emily exclaimed in shock before slapping Y/N’s shoulder gently, watching as she snickered under her breath at her joke.
"What?! It was a legit reaction from me!"
"I am not trying to seduce you!" But I would like to. Emily thought wistfully in her head as she tried to look as shocked as she felt a few seconds prior instead of looking like a kicked puppy yearning for cuddles.
"That’s not what your words sounded like Miss Dickinson."
"Ugh, you are unbelievable!"
"Let’s go now." Y/N shook her head with a small chuckle, making Emily’s heart clench at her cuteness.
"I-Okay. But it’s not done!"
"Whatever, now let’s go!"
"Okay, okay. Relax." The two made their way up the stairs as quietly as they could since everyone was already asleep and as soon as Emily closed the door behind herself, she felt butterflies fly around her stomach in excitement. She was with Y/N, in her bedroom, alone.
"Nice room." Y/N admitted as she took Emily’s bedroom in, walking around the small room to try to take in as much details about Emily as she could in the softly lit room.
"Thank you. You can sit on my bed, you are tired. I will take the chair."
"I can’t sit down Emily. I am your maid."
"I don’t care."
"I am serious Emily. It won’t be a problem-." Emily stopped Y/N mid-sentence by walking towards her and stopping right in front of her before placing her hands on her shoulders and pushing her gently backwards until the back of her knees touched her mattress, then she pushed her down and made her sit on the bed.
"There, it wasn’t so bad, was it?" Emily smirked proudly down at a shocked Y/N and following the bold thrill she had been hit on, she sat right beside Y/N and bumped their shoulders together.
"You are always so full of surprises Miss Dickinson." Y/N admitted and Emily called herself crazy because she saw Y/N blush slightly under the soft light coming from the fireplace. It must be her infatuated mind playing her games.
"It’s something you need to get used to from now on."
"Hm, I like it though."
"I’m glad to hear that." For a moment they just stood there, sat in silence in Emily’s room, gazing into each other’s eyes as small smiles adorned their features.
"I noticed all those small scraps of paper on your desk, what are those for?"
"Oh I write my poems on them. I am actually working on a poem right now."
"Are you serious?"
"Very." Emily nodded and smiled as she pushed her chest up proudly, "do you want to read a few things I’ve written?"
"Oh yeah! Absolutely!"
"Okay then." Emily sat up from her bed and walked towards her desk, opened the small drawer and grabbed a few poems she was sure Y/N would’ve liked, of course she didn’t grab the few ones she wrote about her.
"Wow, there are so many!"
"Yeah!" Emily smiled brightly like a kid on Christmas Day, just like every time she talked about her poems, and watching Y/N’s eyes fill with excitement warmed her heart.
"I can’t wait to read them!"
"Okay, which one do you want to start with?"
"I don’t know, you are the poet. You should tell me."
"I- I don’t actually know! Let me think- I want you to start with-." Emily trailed off to pick one out of the five ones she brought to Y/N as she sat back down on the bed, "this one, but then I also want you to read this one first." Emily pointed to another poem with her pointer finger as she held the previous poem she choose in her hand and smiled sheepishly at Y/N.
"Okay, let’s try with this. What is the poem you are the most proud of. Don’t think too much. Just point at it."
"Okay, hm- this one then."
"Alright." Y/N grabbed the poem Emily gave her and opened the small folded up paper, reading the words written in Emily’s elegant but a bit messy handwriting. The edges of the paper were a little bit dirty with ink but it only made the poem ten times better, full of raw emotions and vulnerability.
"What do you think?" Emily asked anxiously after a few minutes passed by and Y/N haven’t opened her mouth yet, her Y/E/C irises glued on the small piece of paper and her face completely blank, making reading her face a really difficult task for the poet.
"I-I-. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read, Emily. It’s so raw, so real. It opened my mind to new possibilities, it made my eyes see the world from another point of view. It felt like I was in your mind and I could see the world how you see it."
"Do you think so?"
"Absolutely!" Emily felt tears prickle behind her eyes at Y/N’s words, something really rare despite how emotional Emily was about her poems. She was very proud of them and when people complimented them it only helps to boost her self-esteem but it never happened that just a few words made her almost cry. Y/N was really special.
"Thank you. Truly." Emily smiled appreciatively at Y/N as she tried with all her might to not cry in front of Y/N. "No one ever complimented my poems that way."
"Well people are dumb and stupid. You are an amazing writer and your poems will change lives." Emily smiled bittersweetly at that as she picked at a thumbnail nervously. Those words. She recalled them being said by Sue.
"Yeah, I already heard that. Someone already told me."
"And why do you not believe in them?"
"It’s not that I don’t believe in them." Emily started slowly, swallowing the small lump that immediately formed in her throat as her mind filled with memories of Sue, of all the great time she spent with her, of how much she cared for her. "It’s just that- the person that told me that doesn’t tell me those words anymore."
"Why? Did they change their minds?"
"No absolutely not. We just- grew apart I think. She has a new life now. I’m not a part of it anymore."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Y/N asked in a soft voice, leaning her head to the side, in a cute manner Emily noted, and looking at Emily with a gentle gaze as soon as she noticed the poet’s sad expression on her features.
"Not right now. I will, I trust you. I just- I don’t want to ruin the mood or like- annoy you."
"You won’t ever annoy me Emily Dickinson. You have such a way with words that you make listening to you alluring." Emily felt her eyes prickle slightly with unshed tears again as she listened to Y/N’s words and smiled appreciatively at her.
"I- I don’t know what to say. I-thank you."
"You don’t need to thank me Emily. I mean that. I hope you know I am sincere."
"I know, I can sense it from your voice and your eyes." Emily pointed her words out with her brown eyes as she glued them to Y/N’s Y/E/C irises, noticing Y/N swallowing almost imperceptibly at the bold gesture but decided to not comment on it.
"You know-." Y/N started after a few moments of them just staring into each other eyes, both feeling the air around them charge with an unknown electricity but not dwelling or thinking about it too much, but got cut off by a big yawn. She promptly covered her mouth with her hand before placing it back on her lap and smiling embarrassedly at Emily with a small blush on her cheeks, "sorry, I am a bit tired."
"Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing for keeping you up this late at night after the busy day you had. Not to mention the busy early day you will have tomorrow. Shit, I am so sorry." Emily grimaced after she realized she had been keeping Y/N from her well-needed sleep, but Y/N, the cute self she is, only shook her head gently.
"No, no, no, Emily. It’s fine. I wanted to spend some time with you too."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive." Y/N smiled widely at Emily before starting to get up from her bed, "well, I should go to sleep now. I need to be up at 6 a.m. to start preparing breakfast."
"Do you need some help with that tomorrow morning?"
"Another one of these questions. Hm, are you sure you really needed a maid? You seem to want to do all these chores by yourself." Y/N questioned with a mocking tone as a small, entertained smirk appeared on her lips, mirth clear in her Y/E/C irises as they eyed Emily teasingly.
"I just-." Emily trailed off to ponder her options. She could easily lie about her real intentions behind her question or she could be bold for once and actually tell she just want to spend as much time as she could with Y/N to get to know her. She decided to be bold for once. She was tired not listening to her heart’s desires. "I like your company and I really want to spend more time with you."
"Oh Emily, we will spend more time together, I promise. My aunt Maggie established a few shifts between us. I have an early morning but I work till 6 p.m., then I’m done for the day. We can do something together after dinner like tonight." Y/N suggested as she idly played with her fingers, anticipation filling her whole body as she waited for Emily’s reaction to her suggestion.
"That would be great!" Emily exclaimed excitedly and had to really stop herself from jumping up and down in happiness at the prospect of spending more time with Y/N, just sticking on grinning widely at Y/N, who did the same.
"Okay then. Goodnight." Y/N nodded towards Emily and turned around to open the door, before turning her head back around to look at Emily once again, waiting her answer.
"Goodnight Y/N. Sleep well."
"You too."
Y/N opened the door completely and exited the room, smiled at Emily one more time before closing the door, sauntering into her room, across from her aunt’s one. As soon as the door closed, Emily sighed out dreamily and let herself fall on her mattress with a dopey smile on her lips, the soft thud filling the silence in the room. "Y/N." She whispered under her breath before closing her eyes and let her mind be filled with images of Y/N as she let sleep take over her.
-
"Good morning!" Emily exclaimed as soon as she entered the living room, her face illuminated by a big grin that lighted up the whole room, making her whole family, already seated at the table, look at her curiously.
"Someone is in a great mood today." Edward pointed out after he pushed his newspaper down and took a look at her daughter.
"I just slept good, that’s all."
"You are right on time honey, I was just telling your father that Austin and Sue will join us for dinner tonight again." Emily spit the sip of tea she was drinking at the news, not noticing the small snort that left Y/N’s mouth as she served the poet her breakfast, luckily only Emily heard that.
"What?"
"Isn’t it amazing? It’s been too long since they had been here with us. They are so busy with their sophisticated parties these days. It’s a rare occasion having them joining us for two nights in a row."
"Parties I am paying." Edward pointed out making Emily grunt in acknowledgement. She was avoiding Sue at all costs and she was glad the night prior they were all busy chatting, it made avoiding Sue easier.
"Parties we are not invited to. Em you are Sue’s best friend, why don’t you ask her to invite us?" Lavinia lamented with a whining tone, pushing gently on her sister’s shoulder but then crossing her arms stubbornly when Emily just gently shook her head.
"She has new friends now. She is not interested in hanging out with us anymore." Y/N couldn’t help but notice the bittersweet tone Emily used as she addressed her sister’s question and the sad expression that flitted over her features for just over a second before it got covered by a calculated blank expression, but she couldn’t dwell on it too much as she kept serving breakfast to the Dickinson family, so she made a mental note to ask Emily about it that night.
"Speaking of friends, Emily!" Emily’s mother caught the poet’s attention and continued only when she met her eyes, "I met George this morning at the grocery store. He is such a nice guy."
"I know where this is going mom. I’m not going to marry him. He is a great friend. That’s all." Y/N missed Emily’s mother counter back and she didn’t hear the rest of the conversation going between Emily and her mother as she returned to the kitchen to tidy up the kitchen a bit before starting up lunch, not having the time to notice her stomach jumping up in happiness at Emily refusing to marry her friend.
-
"Are you sure? I can help you with all this mess."
"Oh don’t worry Y/N/N, go get some rest. You had a very stressful day. It’s my turn now." Maggie assured her niece, waving her off as she tidied up the kitchen after the Dickinson’s dinner. "No, don’t try to convince me. Go!"
"Thank you. Goodnight."
"G’night."
Y/N exited the kitchen to go up the stairs and to her room, but unfortunately she had to pass by the living room where the Dickinson family was still chatting after their dinner. Y/N sighed out of relief when no one seemed to notice her presence and kept minding their business and continued her quiet way up the stairs, a little bit sad that she probably won’t spend some time with Emily like they planned. Despite good mood being slightly dampened by hers and Emily’s plans ruined, when she arrived at her door she sighed out wistfully at the mere thought of finally getting rid of her devilish corset and lay on bed, but before she could open the door a hand touched her shoulder and squealed in fright. "Shit- Emily!"
"Sorry, sorry! I thought you heard me." Emily reasoned with an apologetic grimace, warming Y/N’s heart at the cute sight when she turned around and was met with puppy dog eyes.
"No, I was just thinking about getting rid of my corset."
"Oh I know the feeling. Looking forward on breathing normally again, hm?" Emily joked, making Y/N snort softly as she nodded in agreement with the poet.
"You have no idea."
"I have actually, because I need to get rid of my corset too. I can’t stand having it on me for one more second. Do you mind if I change in my night gown and then we can hang out?"
Y/N looked a bit taken aback from the question, not really expecting it from the brunette, "don’t you have your entire family downstairs?"
"Yeah, but they will be fine. I spent enough quality time with them, now it’s time to spend some quality time with you." Emily admitted with the slightest rosy tint on her cheeks and for once she was grateful for the lightly lit hallway so she can hide it from Y/N, who didn’t seem to notice Emily’s shy behavior.
"You make me feel too special Emily. Choosing me over your family, wow- that’s flattering." Y/N felt the need to half joke with her hand on her heart as she tried to not show how much touched she was by Emily’s words, since she only met the poet a few days prior and she was her maid.
"Get used to it! Now let’s go, I’ll help you with your corset then you’ll help me with mine."
"Hm, so eager to see me naked. Are you trying to seduce me Miss Dickinson?" Emily felt her face heat up in a millisecond at the question, not sure this time she could hide it from Y/N, her heart skipping a beat before starting beating fast in her chest as her mind filled with completely not innocent images of a naked Y/N on h-. "Emily? Are you okay?"
"Oh- I- I was-wasn’t. I was just trying to help, y’know since corsets are so difficult to take off. I always ask Lavinia to help me because I can’t reach the strings behind me, but she is busy right now so sh-."
"Emily, it’s okay. I was kidding, relax." Y/N giggled softly under her breath and bumped her left shoulder with Emily’s one to help the girl calm down, effectively stopping her ramblings.
"Oh I- I knew that." Emily laughed awkwardly for a few moments before clearing her throat, "should we, I don’t know go in your room or-?"
"Oh yes, let’s go, so I can help you undress." The last part of Y/N’s phrase sent Emily’s brain out of control as it replayed those words over and over again and each time it only helped melting her brain into mush as far from innocent images filed in.
"O-okay, let’s go." Y/N nodded and opened her bedroom door, letting Emily in first then following her, closing the door a moment later to have some privacy.
"How was dinner?" Y/N asked as she tried to look as nonchalant as she could despite having a really pretty girl in her bedroom about to undress her. Okay that totally sounded really dirty and out of context it could sound like what it actually sounded like, but we all know the truth, right?
"It was good. I liked your special bread recipe, you need to teach me how to make it."
"Oh yeah, it’s actually aunt Maggie’s recipe, but I added a little bit of raisins to enhance its flavor."
"They definitely do their work because it was the best bread I’ve ever tasted. Do not tell my mother that." Emily was quick to whisper the last part with the hand on the left side of her mouth, making Y/N laugh heartily at her goofiness.
"Noted." Y/N nodded as she still smiled widely at Emily, before starting playing with her fingers nervously. "Hm-."
"What?"
"I- I really can’t resist another second in this. Can you please-?" Y/N trailed off, letting the half-finished question hang in the electrified air between them as she stared at everything around the room but at Emily’s magnetic brown irises, moving her hands to signal behind her back to hint at Emily she needed to take off her corset.
"Wha- OH! Your corset. Of course. Yeah. Yeah." Emily nodded as she stumbled over her words, grimacing inwardly at her awkwardness. "Hm- turn around please. I’ll help you out."
"Oh yeah, thank you." Y/N held her breath as she turned around and almost gasped out loud when a pair of slightly cold hands touched the skin of her back.
"Sorry, my hands are a bit cold."
"Don’t worry." Y/N let out in a breath as she tried to calm herself down and not look like she was actually melting under Emily’s touch. After a few moments, Emily succeeded in loosening the strands of Y/N’s corset and the girl visibly relaxed, "letting your corset loose is like- the best feeling ever, right?"
"Yeah, every night I feel like my soul comes back in my body."
"Yeah, they should be banned. Why women need to suffer this much while men wear the comfiest clothes ever created?"
Emily listened to Y/N talking as she focused on her fingers unfastening Y/N’s corset, "that’s what I’m always thinking about. I tried pants once, it was a breakthrough. Never had on something so comfy in my life. Even my night gown isn’t that comfortable."
"Wait- you had the privilege to try pants on?"
"Yeah! Of course my parents don’t know that, but yeah."
"Wow, I always imagined trying them! How do they feel?"
"Amazing! And I even tried a blouse with a vest. No corset on. Even better than having pants on." Emily admitted and watched delighted Y/N’s face illuminate like a Christmas three, full of curiosity and wonder.
"Wow, that sounds amazing." Emily focused on untying the last strand of Y/N’s corset with shaky hands even if she tried to stop her body from shaking with her nerves, the mere thought Y/N was a few beats away from being naked short-circuited her brain. "I always wanted to try men’s clothes on."
"When do you have the whole afternoon free?" Emily asked with excitement shining brightly in her eyes, almost jumping up and down in her spot in anticipation as an idea popped in her mind.
"Thursday. I start at 18 Friday afternoon then."
"Alright, I really hoped it was Thursday afternoon. My parents and Lavinia are going to some kinda spa thing my aunt Lavinia organized, I’m not going because I’m not in the mood to go, even if my mom and Lavinia have been trying to convince me for days. But now that I know we can have almost 24 hours together I’m definitely not going."
"Wait- hold on, are you serious?"
"Yeah, I can even convince them to bring Maggie with them or let her have a few days off. I think they will be back Friday night or maybe Saturday morning, I need to ask them."
"Wow, I don’t know what to say!"
"Well, my dear Y/N get ready for these days all by ourselves." Emily announced excitedly, finding the same amount of excitement she had in her eyes into Y/N’s Y/E/C irises, warming her heart to no end. She was afraid she could come off as too eager to spend some alone time with Y/N, but the Y/H/C girl didn’t seem to mind or she didn’t pay attention to it and it reassured Emily.
"I can’t wait." Y/N exclaimed excitedly before shivering slightly as cold air hit her hot skin, "I should put something on quickly."
"Oh yeah, it’s freezing!"
The two girls stayed looking at each other for a few more seconds before Y/N moved her gaze away to find something to put on, Emily quickly turning around as her cheeks warmed up and her heart beat loudly in her ears. "Okay, we can go now."
"Oh thank God, I seriously need to get rid of this corset as well."
"We better hurry up then." Y/N snickered at Emily’s whiny tone, ushering her out her room.
"Have you ever thought-." Emily stopped in her tracks when, after looking at Y/N for a moment on her way out Y/N’s room, she turned back around to look where she was going to not trip over something and she was met with a pair of familiar eyes.
"Emily."
"Sue." Y/N exited the room right behind Emily and stopped in her tracks too when she was met with Sue’s confused and also a little bit… jealous? - Y/N couldn’t tell - eyes, but she sure she could feel a little bit of electricity palpable in the air, especially when Sue detached her eyes from her and stared Emily down with an hard gaze, silence filling the small hallway for a few long moments.
"I- I hoped we could talk a bit. It’s been a while."
"Oh- can we do it tomorrow? I am a bit tired."
"Oh- oh y-yeah, s-sure. How is it going with your poems?" Sue asked with a bit of a shaky voice, her eyes full of a nostalgic glint that intrigued Y/N to no end.
"It’s going just fine. They are my safe place where I can hide when I need to be away from the world."
"Yeah, I remember. They were the most powerful way for your heart and mind to speak out loud. I miss them." Sue admitted with a nostalgic tilt in her tone that kept fueling Y/N’s curiosity about the strange dynamic that Emily and Sue shared.
"Well you decided you didn’t want them anymore. So it’s a bit hypocritical missing them, don’t you think?"
"I- I- uh, that’s why I wanted to talk to you." Sue started with her voice full of anxiety and anticipation, "it’s been too long and I-."
"You were pretty clear the last time we spoke to each other. If you want to tell me about your amazing parties and your new friends, fine. But if you want to say anything else, you don’t need to worry. There is nothing else to say."
"I-." Sue sighed out loud while her shoulders lost their tension and slumped back in their position, "I guess you are right. I have no right to want to make amends after what I did and said. I just miss my best friend."
"What? Aren’t your new friends enough? This explains your need to always want more."
"I guess I deserved that." Sue hung her head down a few beats before meeting Emily’s eyes again, "I didn’t want this. Us fighting."
"I didn’t want this too. I- listen, we will talk. Tomorrow. Okay?"
"Thank you." Sue went to hug Emily but she stopped in her tracks when she stepped back and shook her head a bit.
"Right. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"Have a good night Mrs. Dickinson." Y/N chimed in for the first time since they bumped into Sue and smiled politely at the girl who looked her up and down before smiling politely too and nodding back.
"Have a good night too-."
"Y/N." Y/N finished for Sue, who trailed off waiting for the Y/E/C girl to help her out.
"Y/N." Sue repeated before turning around and going down the stairs where chatter was still going animatedly. Y/N watched the brunette’s back a few seconds as her mind replayed everything that went through in the last couple of minutes before focusing her attention back on Emily, finding her already looking at her, making her heart skip a beat.
"Hey." Y/N started with a soft voice, her smile widening when Emily grinned gently at her.
"Hey. Sorry you had to witness that." Emily apologized as she opened her bedroom door and lead them in her bedroom.
"That’s fine. Are you okay?"
"Yeah." Emily sighed out loud and nodded gently at the Y/H/C girl while closing her bedroom door. She stared a few seconds at Y/N before turning around, "can you help me?"
"Yeah sure." Y/N’s voice was a slightly bit hoarse as she walked on shaky legs towards the poet, who was standing in the middle of her bedroom, but she paid her no mind as her brain played the conversation she had with Sue a few minutes prior.
"I can’t believe she told me those things. She had no right to tell me those things!"
"I’m sorry Emily but I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"You’re right. I will tell you after getting out of this damned corset."
"I feel you." Y/N snorted as she started unfastening the knots on Emily’s corset to help her out of it faster, the poet already sighing out happily.
"Oh yes. This is wonderful." Emily moaned out in delight as soon as she felt the corset starting to loose around her upper body, creating a tingling sensation all over Y/N’s body at the unexpected sound, but she kept going instead of fainting embarrassingly behind Emily.
"Yeah, I feel you."
"I hope one day we can get rid of these things. They are awful." Emily admitted and watched as Y/N nodded in agreement when she turned her head around slightly to Y/N behind her still working on unfastening her corset’s straps.
"Yeah. It will take a lot but I’m sure they won’t be used anymore."
"We would wear something similar, maybe something that doesn’t feel so tight and that doesn’t need help to take it off."
"Oh wow, that would be wonderful. I still struggle trying to take it off myself." Y/N snorted under her breath as she shook her head.
"Wait, do you really take it off yourself?"
"Well yeah, most of the times I ask my aunt Maggie to help me, but a few times I had to do it myself when she is still busy or not around in that moment."
"Wow." Emily exclaimed, but furrowed her eyebrows when she heard Y/N chuckle under her breath, "why are you laughing?"
"Because I remembered I once struggled so much in taking my corset off that I didn’t see the bed and fell down on it and then on the floor." Y/N explained, giggling after finishing with Emily doing the same as she imagined the hilarious scene, "here you go. I’m done. You’re free from your corset."
"Oh yes! Thank you!" Emily moved without properly thinking and pushed the top of her dress and her corset down to her hip as she turned around, exposing her upper body to Y/N, who widened comically her eyes as they inevitably fell on Emily’s exposed chest. "Oh my God!"
"Oh- sorry, sorry!" Y/N immediately turned herself around and covered her eyes as a deep, burgundy blush fell on her cheeks. "Sorry for looking I- hm." Y/N cleared her throat and tried to find the right words that would not make this situation even more embarrassing but her brain seemed to be stuck in a spiral of images of Emily’s round and full breasts and was incapable of forming coherent thoughts, so she decided to just shut up.
"No, no. Don’t apologize. I should be sorry for- flashing my tits in your face." Emily turned around too, making now both of their backs face each other, and touched her cheeks to try in vain to subdue her scorching blush, while frantically searching her night gown to put on.
Y/N snorted imperceptibly under he breath and let the next, murmured words slip out of her mouth without her consent, "I should thank you instead."
It was almost imperceptible, but Emily caught it since the wired silence surrounding them was almost deafening and it made her stop in her tracks as she opened her drawer. She couldn’t have heard right, could she? Do those words mean Y/N felt something for her too? Or maybe that she was at least attracted to her? She needed answers. "I’m sorry again. I wasn’t thinking."
"Don’t worry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable."
"Are you serious? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable." Emily countered back as she carefully took her dress and corset down her body, then putting her night gown on, purposefully choosing one that has a slight see-through fabric around her chest area. This way she could know if Y/N was interested in her in that way or not. If her eyes struggled to not stay focused on her chest, maybe she had a chance with her. "You can turn around."
"So, what happened with-." Y/N did as Emily told her but stopped mid-sentence when Emily turned around and she almost flashed her breasts to her again. The top half of Emily’s dress’ fabric was see-through, that much so that Y/N could see Emily’s erect nipples, but she wasn’t sure they were erect from the cold of the room despite the fire crackling on the right side of the room or from something else. Y/N immediately noticed her slip up and her ogling and forced her eyes to look at a portray on Emily’s wall, beside her head, instead as she cleared her throat, forcing herself to not stare at Emily’s visible chest again, "hm- with Sue?"
"Oh yeah, right, hm. Can I trust you?"
"Emily of course. I promise your secrets are safe with me."
"No, I know it. It’s just- nobody knows about this but- we had a thing going on." Emily admitted quickly, not exactly knowing how to put into words what she wanted to say, extremely afraid to watch Y/N’s facial expression at her revelation, so as soon as she finished talking, she focused her eyes on the fire crackling on her left and played around with her fingers.
"Oh wow."
"Yeah."
"Did you love her?" Y/N asked after a few beats of silence, completely taking Emily off guard.
"Wow, I wasn’t expecting this question."
"Sorry, it was too personal. You don’t have to answer me."
"No, I didn’t mean it like that. I-hm, I was expecting you- well I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe you asking about our arrangement. Or maybe not reacting this well about this- new information about me."
"Oh yeah, I got it. You don’t have to worry about that. Like ever. I- I know what it feels like to like- love a woman."
Emily had to rectify her previous statement. That took her off guard. "Really?"
"I realized it when I was 15. I started working with my aunt Maggie in a beautiful house. Their owners were a wonderful family. Always so polite, never getting angry, very sweet with me since I was a kid but also with my aunt Maggie. They were treating us like we were part of their family. But Molly. Molly was the sweetest of them. Not to mention beautiful. We were close since we were the same age. But- hm- you were lucky enough to have some kind of something with the person I presume you loved. I wasn’t that lucky. I had to endure watching her loving someone else. For the entirety of my time as a maid in their house."
"I’m so sorry Y/N." Emily butted in as soon as Y/N, after turning around towards the fireplace, trailed off to stare blankly at the fire, too caught up in her thoughts to notice Emily approaching her slowly.
"Don’t be. It happens. Especially in the world we live in. Where people like us has to hide."
"I hope one day we don’t have to." Emily admitted a little bit wistfully, her heart aching for the pain she can clearly see in Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes when she finally looked into her brown ones. She had been lucky enough to at least act on her feelings somehow. Y/N hasn’t been that lucky.
"I hope that too." Y/N smiled gently at Emily, their eyes meeting a few seconds before Y/N’s Y/E/C one’s focused on the fireplace again.
"Did you tell her how you felt?"
"Oh God, no. Are you crazy? She would’ve ruined my life, my reputation, I could have lost my job."
"Yeah, but you broke your heart that way."
"Yeah. It will heal, eventually." Y/N shrugged like it was nothing, "it’s already healing."
"How long has it been since it happened?" Emily asked a little bit sadly, her eyes conveying as much compassion and sympathy she could to try to make Y/N feel a little bit better. Little did she know she was already making her feel better by healing her broken heart.
"About two years."
"Wow." Emily exclaimed as her brain wrapped itself around this new piece of information. She didn’t know what to say to Y/N to help her make her feel better, she had been broken hearted by Sue, but they at least had some kind of relationship.
"Woman full of words I must say. It must be easy being a poet."
Y/N’s joke made Emily snort under her breath, a gesture that she hoped distracted Y/N enough to not make her see the blush she triggered with her words. "Shut up. I was just shocked." Emily pushed on Y/N’s left shoulder when she snickered under her breath and pretended to be offended.
"Oh no, don’t be mad. I was joking. Well- not completely but- HEY! Don’t hit me with your pillow."
"Or what?" Emily smirked widely when, without Y/N noticing, grabbed the pillow laying on the chair beside her and lifted it up to hit the Y/H/C girl, but before Y/N could form any sort of warning, she got blocked by Emily swinging the pillow forward and hitting her on the face.
"Ok, you asked for it." Y/N stopped another hit with her right arm while she fumbled behind her to grab a pillow on Emily’s bed and as soon as her hand wrapped itself around the soft pillow she flung it around and hit Emily right on the face, stopping her movements altogether as she stared with a shocked but amused expression on her face at Y/N.
"You. Didn’t."
"Oh I did. I can do it again if you want."
"Don’t you dare! No! Y/N!" But it was too late. As soon as Emily finished threatening Y/N, a pillow hit her face and made her stumble a bit, but she regained her balance quickly and flung her pillow at Y/N, hitting her on her arm.
"Alright, alright. Truce." Y/N placed the pillow back on the bed and waited with an entertained smirk on her lips for Emily as she mirrored her gesture and placed the pillow onto Y/N’s one on the mattress.
"Anyway, before someone interrupted me, I was gonna say I am sorry for what you went through."
"It’s in the past now. I’m finally healing. I’m finally moving on." Y/N admitted, a slight rosy pink tinting her cheeks, something that didn’t go unnoticed from Emily but the poet decided to not ask anything about it, for now.
"I'm so happy to hear that."
"Yeah. It’s not that easy, but I will be fine. Hopefully soon." Y/N admitted with a shy smile, a gesture that Emily mirrored as she nodded in understanding.
"Good, you deserve to be happy."
"Yeah, you too. Speaking of which, how about you?"
"What about me?"
"You two had a thing going on. It must be painful calling everything off."
"It’s actually going good. I missed her a lot since we stopped our thing, but it got better in the end."
"I’m glad to hear that." Y/N smiled widely at Emily and nodded, igniting a fire within Emily that she thought it was extinguished when her thing with Sue was over.
"I- hm." Emily trailed off to ponder her next words carefully, not completely sure she wanted to admit out loud and to Y/N what she wanted to say. After a few beats of silence she made up her mind and decided she wanted to be brave, she wanted to take a shot and discover if Y/N actually liked her more than a friend. "I met someone. I- she made me feel things I thought I only felt with and for Sue."
"Oh." Y/N cleared her throat, successfully getting rid of the jealous lump it formed in her throat at Emily’s admission, but as hard as she tried no other words left her mouth.
"Yeah."
"How is- she?" Y/N stuttered, cursing herself for being so obvious about her jealousy, but it seemed Emily paid no mind to it.
"Perfect. Extremely funny, always so polite and sweet." Emily gushed uncontrollably, her eyes shining brightly with all the affection she felt for the other girl, "oh and she has a great mind too, full of ideas that fascinates me. We have a lot of hobbies in common. She is perfect."
"Wow, from what I’ve heard from your description she might be. Is she pretty?"
"No. She is beautiful."
"Already so smitten for her, hm?" Y/N teased with an arched eyebrow and a small grin to try to divert Emily’s attention on her to prevent the poet to detect her jealousy.
"How could I not? She is perfect. I think- I never felt something so hard for someone. Not even Sue."
"Does-hm-." Y/N cleared her throat when her voice wavered a bit, "does she feel the same?"
"I don’t know, but I’m trying to figure it out." Emily admitted a little bit cryptically, noticing every little reaction coming from Y/N to at least detect any kind of sign from her and if her instinct was right, she was jealous, so she maybe felt the same.
"Have you told her?"
"No. I’m a little bit insecure about it. She could feel the same but- what if she doesn’t?"
"Yeah, I know what you’re feeling. I felt the same way with Molly. I spent a year beating myself up for not telling her. Maybe we could have worked out in some way or maybe definitely not. I spent a year living on ‘what ifs’. But I have to be honest, now that I’ve moved on I think it was better that way. I don’t think she was the one for me."
"So you’re saying I shouldn’t tell her?" Emily smiled slightly at the girl rambling her thoughts out, finding all of that an extremely adorable sight witness and it became ten times cuter when Y/N blushed at her stare before shaking her head softly.
"No, what I’m trying to say is-." Y/N trailed of to take a deep breath as she stared intently into Emily’s brown eyes, "do whatever your heart craves. I’ve thought a lot about it and with a clear head I realized I was just deeply infatuated with Molly. I wasn’t actually in love with her. If it was true love I wouldn’t have moved on. So if you feel like she is the one, like you need to tell her because you truly want her, then do it. Don’t think too much about it." Emily looked at Y/N like a lovesick puppy as she talked, flaring up the fire she felt burning for Y/N, so with a made up mind and without properly thinking, as soon as Y/N finished speaking Emily surged forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips, lingering only a few seconds before pulling away abruptly, fearing Y/N’s reaction when she felt the girl completely frozen in her spot.
"I- shit- I’m so sorry- hmph." Emily got stopped abruptly when a pair of soft lips unexpectedly pressed themselves hard on her own, making her head spin out of control with a plethora of emotions she only felt when she wrote her poems. Emily felt her brain completely shutting off as she completely dived into the blissful sensation of Y/N’s mouth on hers. Their lips danced sensually over the rhythm their heartbeats set, their bodies burned from the passion the two girls shared but had to suppress for their own fears of losing the other if their feelings weren’t reciprocated, their minds were a delicious mess as their senses were completely filled with the other’s taste, perfume, essence. It was a perfect mix that both of them wished it could never end.
But Y/N had to reluctantly slow their kiss down and pull slightly away from Emily to take some needed breath as her lungs screamed for some air and she was pretty sure Emily felt if her heaving chest was anything to go by. "Do not apologize for that. Because it was so perfect."
"I was just panicking. I thought I read your signals wrong and I went too far."
"It was extremely impossible to read them wrong since I’ve been trying to not stare at your boobs for the past 20 minutes and I’ve been failing miserably." Emily snorted at Y/N’s admission, feeling a sense of pride swell in her chest as well as a familiar burning sensation in her lower stomach lighting her whole body up at Y/N’s admission.
"I think now is the right time to confess I chose this night gown on purpose." Y/N swallowed loudly when Emily winked seductively at her while puffing her chest up, giving Y/N the intoxicating view of her half exposed breasts.
"You like to torture me." Y/N murmured under her breath as her eyes never moved away from Emily’s chest, watching it move up and down with every breath the poet took and feeling her insides melt each time a nipple came in sight through the see-through fabric of Emily’s night gown.
"Why?"
"Because I can’t touch them."
"Who said you can’t?"
"Yo- wait, what?" Instead of answering verbally Emily smirked mischievously, grabbed Y/N’s wrist and pulled her hand towards herself. Just when it was hovering inches from her covered chest, she lifted her right eyebrow and silently asked Y/N if it was okay for her and smiled widely when the girl instantly nodded enthusiastically. The Y/H/C girl’s grin dropped as soon as her hand came in contact with Emily’s right breast and let out a small moan without noticing, making the poet groan at the unexpected attractive sound.
"Oh, Y/N." Emily whined and gripped Y/N’s wrist a bit more strongly when the girl squeezed her breast tentatively, but just right to light up her whole body with need.
"Come here." Y/N snaked her other hand behind Emily’s neck and pushed her harshly onto her lips to share a bruising kiss, reigniting the fire they set up a few moments prior. Y/N promptly swallowed another sound coming from Emily as she changed the angle of their kiss, full of passion but still chaste. But Emily needed more. She wanted to taste Y/N’s mouth fully. Just when Emily was debating with her mind to try to find the courage to deepen the kiss, Y/N beat her to it as her tongue licked the seam of Emily’s lips to ask for entrance. The poet granted it a few beats later with another small whine and her body got completely wrecked by a shiver running down her spine when their tongues met just as Y/N’s thumb and pointer finger found her nipple and pinched it gently but firmly.
"Oh fuck." They let their desire take over for a few minutes, giving their tongues time to explore the other’s mouth, licking every nook and cranny of each other’s mouth and swallowing every small sound they could pull from the other. As they kissed fervently, Emily’s other hand, until now placed meekly on her lap, sneaked into Y/N’s hair, after freeing them from the bun she had on all day and pulled on the Y/E/C girl’s scalp each time Y/N found a new way to stimulate her nipple or when her tongue moved just right. Their small moment was abruptly interrupted when they heard Emily’s family wishing each other a goodnight and they had to reluctantly pull away from each other, but not before sharing a few small, sweet pecks.
"I should go."
"No please, stay." Emily begged, leaning their foreheads together and sighing disapprovingly when Y/N removed her hand from her chest, only to smile widely when she grabbed Emily’s hand and intertwined their fingers together.
"I can’t. Your family is going to be upstairs any minute. We can’t get caught."
"You’re right." Emily sighed and nodded gently. Y/N had a point. "With Sue it was easier. My parents always let her sleep with me."
"Already talking about your ex with me Dickinson? Are you trying to make me jealous?" Y/N teased with a wide grin that widened when Emily blushed softly and pushed her gently on her shoulder.
"No, you jerk. I just wished it was that easier with you too. We wouldn’t have to stop this." Emily murmured seductively before leaning slowly towards Y/N and capturing Y/N’s lips in a slow but sensual kiss, making it last just a few seconds to tease Y/N and smirking widely when she accomplished her mission after hearing Y/N grunt in disapproval at her pulling away from the kiss and trying to follow her lips to kiss her again. "But you have a point. You sadly need to go. When do you have some time off tomorrow?"
"Around 11 a.m."
"Perfect, meet me here. I will tell my mom I need some help with my surprisingly ripped dress." Emily winked as she stressed the word ‘surprisingly’ and felt her heart swell at the sound of Y/N’s cute giggle.
"Alright. Goodnight Emily. Sleep well." They shared another kiss full of passion before Y/N quickly slipped out of Emily’s room, just a minute before Emily’s parents walked up the stairs to go into their room, followed right after by Lavinia.
Both girls had some troubles falling asleep that night as adrenaline still pushed through their bodies still burning with their passion, but after about an hour both girls fell asleep with wide grins on their lips, excited for the next day.
-
"Good morning my dear family!" Emily entered the living room with a brighter-than-the-sun smile, making the whole family stare at her weirdly.
"Should we get used to her being in a good mood every morning?" Edward asked his wife as both looked at Emily weirdly, eyebrows furrowed and confused expression on their faces.
"I like it." Lavinia interjected and giggled loudly when Emily run towards her and hugged tightly her over the chair. After a couple of seconds she walked to her chair and sat down, immediately stuffing her face with the delicious breakfast she had in front of her on the table.
"Hm, Maggie this breakfast is amazing!" Emily murmured with her mouth full of chocolate cake, rolling her eyes back in pure ecstasy as all the flavors hit her taste buds, completely ignoring her mother’s reprimand stare.
"Thank you Miss Dickinson, but I didn’t make it. Y/N did."
"Oh really? Where did you take the recipe?" Emily’s mother spoke up in disbelief as she too took a bite of her cake and widened her eyes comically at the tasty cake.
"It’s actually mine. It’s not that difficult to make. The secret is chocolate."
"Ugh, Y/N you need to teach me how to do this." Emily requested as casually as she could, this time waiting to swallow the cake and swiping the chocolate away from her mouth before talking, to not rise her family’s suspicions of her asking Y/N to teach her how to make a cake since she always refused to help her mom in the kitchen. "It’s delicious."
"Oh please Y/N if you succeed in making Emily do anything in the kitchen I will give you a week off." Emily turned her head towards her mother and stuck her tongue out, making her mother laugh at her in amusement.
"It would be a pleasure Miss Dickinson."
-
"Miss Dickinson?" Emily asked in a mocking tone, trying to make her best impression of Y/N, on Y/N’s lips after pulling away from the bruising kiss the two shared after Emily literally flung herself into Y/N’s arms as soon as they entered her bedroom, slamming her on the door.
"I can’t call you with your first name Emily, even if you asked me to."
"I know, but it was hilarious hearing you calling me by my last name. It’s weird."
"No, weird is being in a room with your parents when all my brain could think of was how good it felt kissing you." Y/N admitted with her eyes glued on Emily’s plump lips, biting down on her own bottom lip then to emphasize her appreciation of Emily’s lips.
"Not as good as feeling your hands on me." Emily countered back, purposefully arching her back to flush their chests together but whining in frustration when their corsets and dresses prevented them to feel anything.
"Yeah, it’s pretty much a tie." Y/N joked and thanked the door behind her back holding her up when Emily giggled on her mouth and the cute sound made her almost faint. "You are so beautiful." Y/N spoke up without even noticing as she stared at the poet with a loving gaze, creating goosebumps all over Emily’s skin.
"Not as much as you Y/N. That’s the first thing I thought that day at the well. I’ve always been fascinated by the beauty of the nature, but as soon as my eyes landed on you, it was like threes and flowers never existed. It was just you."
"Shit, do not say things like that." Y/N shook her head as she bit hard on her bottom lip while closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on Emily’s one.
"Why?"
"Because it makes me want to kiss you."
"Then why are you not doing it?" It was all the validation Y/N needed. After opening her eyes for a brief moment to meet Emily’s brown irises for confirmation, finding in them only affection and entertainment, she surged forward and captured Emily’s lips in a slow kiss, full of passion. Y/N decided to keep the kiss as chaste as possible to savor the softness of Emily’s lips, caressing her back with both hands to feel Emily’s every curve she could despite the dress and corset in her way, but when Emily’s fingers dug in the back of her neck to silently ask for more, Y/N whined softly into the kiss and immediately bit down gently on Emily’s lips. Y/N shivered at the poet’s whispered whine but took advantage of that to slip her tongue into Emily’s mouth and lick every angle she could reach. "Oh."
"Shit." Y/N murmured into the kiss when her mind finally stopped spinning from Emily’s moan and shivered wildly when the poet took advantage of Y/N’s dazed state to suck harshly on Y/N’s tongue, pulling a whine from her throat. After a few moments Emily had to pull away to take some needed breath, not too far away, just enough so their noses could brush together gently. "That was so fucking hot. And fuck- that sound." Emily giggled at Y/N’s murmured words, her eyes staring lovingly at the her and a dopey smile adorned her kiss-swollen lips, and she thought about how happy she felt in that moment.
"Ugh, I wish you could stay here all day." Emily admitted out loud after a few seconds of them basking in the comforting silence, the two girls just existing together, wrapped up in each other’s arms, with their forehead leaned together and with their breaths mingling, sighing out sadly and leaning into Y/N touch when she caressed her back comfortingly.
"I know, but your mother and sister will be back with my aunt soon." Y/N sighed out sadly, caressing Emily’s sides gently as she committed to mind every small detail she could.
"Yeah and Sue will be over in an hour. We still need to talk."
"She just wants her best friend back, Emily. Give her a chance to be a good friend. You two were friends before having what you two had."
"You’re right. I want to talk to her too. I want my friend back, but I just- want to spend more time with you."
"You will, tonight." Y/N nodded encouragingly and smiled widely to hope to make Emily do the same and when she did a few seconds later her own grin widened ten sizes.
"Do not forget we have the house all for ourselves on Thursday."
"Already trying to get under my dress Dickinson?"
"Maybe." Emily winked with a mischievous grin, making Y/N laugh heartily before kissing her gently and slipping out of her room.
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sweeetnothingss · 2 years
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these dating apps are stupid. where is my academic rival who 3 years later of meeting me, confesses in a love letter, that I'm the fond object of all their desires and the keeper of the key to their heart? where is the lover who builts a fire just to keep me warm? where is the person who secretly reads my favourite books and gets so invested in them just because they observed my bright enthusiasm about them? where is the person who lays in the grass with me to discuss an impromptu script while also talking about our general interests and knows that in the end we're gonna end up with each other? where is the person who gives up the opportunity to have an iPod in exchange of a teapot that contains lil inside jokes we've had going on since years? where is the person who runs to the station just to take me to the place which captures the most enchanting sunrise before i leave the city forever? where is the person who sings their favourite songs with me in a train with a shared earphone? where is the person who saves their dirtiest jokes for me while i save a seat on every table for them? where is the person who after knowing my flaws and fears, says yes to running away with me? where is the person who would come out of Eden to open the door for me if they knew i were there? where is the person who makes me realise that our joy is so bright I cannot see anything beyond it? where's the person who'd choose to hang out with me in every universe? who's going to take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die? where is the bestfriend who looks at me in the eyes and says "this thing we're doing here, me, you- i just want you to know I'm in. I'm all in." and means it!?
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oeuvrinarydurian · 3 months
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Happy Snarky Little Shit Sunday. One of my favorites of all time.
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hmmmm-yeah-no · 1 year
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Okay but imagine if House of the Dragon had an episode within the major time skip and needed actors for it.
Ella Hunt and Hunter Schafer would have been so perfect for versions of Rhaenyra and Alicent in a time period between young (milly/emily) and older (Emma/Olivia).
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lightasthesun · 8 months
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art by Chris Trevas/// Mhairi McFarlane, You Had Me At Hello/Holding On by Shane/ Lang Leaf, Twin Flames/ first eye drawing by Alice X. Zhang/ second eye close up art by Tony Pro/ The Song of Achilles/ to speak of precious evenings by littlekaracan/ battlefront ll stills/ Hamilton the Musical, who lives, who dies, who tells your story/mark z. danielewski, house of leaves/ 5000 letters/ Bastille, the Anchor/ fyodor dostoyevsky, the brothers karamazov/ Kote Darasuum/ Vode An/ street art/ The Arcadian Wind, envy green/ Margaret Atwood, There are better ways of doing this/ Power Politics Emily Dickinson, In this short life that only lasts an hour/ Maggie Smith, First Fall/ Carl Friedrich Lessing, "The Hermit" (art) + November by Margaret Atwood/ Brandon Sanderson, The Final Empire/ The Bad Batch s2EP03 screenshot of Cody/ Alan Stephan Foster, "The Fall" (art) + poem by @erdarieldraws
a gift for my codywan besties cilly, tea, kasey, aixa and lauren🫶
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roosterforme · 7 months
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Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.
And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.
She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.
Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 
After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 
"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."
Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."
"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.
Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.
Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."
"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."
"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."
Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."
Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 
It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 
"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.
She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 
But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
--------------------------
Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.
He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 
After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."
"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."
He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."
She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."
His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"
Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 
Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"
She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."
"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"
He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."
He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"
She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."
"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.
"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.
When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 
He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 
"Floyd!"
Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.
"Floyd! Let's go!"
"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"
As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.
Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 
He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 
"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 
"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 
"Floyd!"
Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"
He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.
-----------------------
"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."
Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 
He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.
Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.
"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."
Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."
Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."
"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.
"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."
Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."
"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."
But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."
Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.
Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 
Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.
-----------------------
Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 
That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 
The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.
"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 
The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.
She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.
"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"
She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 
"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 
"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.
Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 
"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."
"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."
Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."
"Ohhh, what did he look like?"
Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"
"Mmhmm."
"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 
A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"
"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 
"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 
"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.
And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.
"Was he about six feet tall?"
"Was he slim but not skinny?"
"Did he blush when he smiled?"
"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"
--------------------------
Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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couthbbg · 6 days
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x . x . x . x . x . x . x . x . x Andrew Garfield, to Jesse Eisenberg during the filming of the The Social Network // The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out to Get Us! By Sufjan Stevens // In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 7 by Alfred, Lord Tennyson // Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Susan Gilbert featured in The Selected Letters of Emily Dickinson // Trevor Zegras about Jamie Drysdale // Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; “The Fear”
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rosewaterandivy · 1 month
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answer July— ah, said July—
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summary: from Summersong Request-athon, inspired by "July, July!" as requested by marvelous Meg aka @courtingchaos 💜 || The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.
Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.
w.c.: 4700
pairing: e.m. x f!reader
themes: prosaic summer feels, the ephemeral nature of time, processing trauma, mention of previous bodily harm & its aftermath, insecurities and the like, body worship
a/n: long time, no see my fellow fiends. did i let this run away from me? maybe. do i care? not a wit! thanks for tagging along with the team, aka let eddie have a nice, normal summer for once - hope you enjoy! title from "Answer July" by Emily Dickinson.
Summer slipped by syrupy slow, lingering around the edges. All honey-coated and sweet, so much so in fact, that it struck one Eddie Munson as rather strange.
Granted, his spring had been touch and go what with being the town pariah and nearly bleeding his ever-loving guts out in the Upside Down and all. So maybe a slow uneventful summer was well-warranted after all of that.
May sprinted past with its final school bells ringing and a quick dash across the stage at graduation to snatch a diploma from Higgins before the school board could think better of it. He hastily threw together a quick campaign to welcome Will Byers back to town and only somewhat regretfully passed the mantle of Hellfire over to Henderson.
He got himself a job, nothing to write home about, but certainly something to pass the time and get him out of the house. Wayne insisted Eddie didn’t need to work and Eddie said the same for him, the never-ending cycle rearing its head once more.
The government hush money was, after all, nothing if not generous.
Still, he felt ill at ease in the new house. Liable to crawl out of his skin at times.
Besides, if it weren’t for the job, he’d have never set his sorry sights on the newbie behind the counter at the soda fountain.
Yes, of fucking course Hawkins, Indiana had an old-fashioned soda shop pharmacy combo.
Which did nothing to help his sweet tooth.
So, on the days he happened to close the record store, Eddie would peer across the street searching for a familiar head of hair, usually swept up onto a bun or ponytail by day’s end, and a smile that could melt the cockles of his cold, black heart.
The bell chimed as you rung up a sale for a customer at the register, the cash drawer grazing a bit of skin at your hip as you turned.
“Be with you in a sec!”
Eddie settled himself on a well-worn stool and drummed his fingers along the polished counter. He watched as you counted change for one of the old biddies who all but forced casserole down the throats of the Munson men after he’d been discharged from the hospital.
She thanks you and shoves a dollar in the tip jar as she makes to leave.
“Looking lovely as ever Pearl,” A low familiar voice says.
“Oh, you sweet talker,” The older woman swats at Munson still perched on his stool. She tsks and tugs at a lock of hair that’s fallen from where he’d tied it back in frustration. “One of these days I’ll come at you with my scissors, young man.”
Eddie sighs dramatically and swivels on the stool as she reaches the door, “Promises, promises. And yet…”
Pearl pushes the door open and says with a wink, “You’ll never see me coming.”
The door falls shut behind her, allowing him to return his attention to you behind the counter.
At the far end of the shop, you’re hefting open freezer doors and scooping out near perfect spheres of ice cream onto sugar and waffle cones, scoffing when someone requests a cup instead.
He’s surprised to see no one else behind the counter, there’s usually at least one person to man the counter with during the busier hours, the after dinner rush.
The door keeps chiming as people join the line, eyeing the offerings— campfire marshmallow, french toast, vanilla, strawberry, rainbow sherbert— the list goes on and on. Some lean over and whisper to their dates, earning a tittering giggle here and there. Sticky hands of children smack against the glass pointing out their selection as you shove another scoop onto a towering waffle cone.
And it’s then that Eddie decides he’s had quite enough of this.
Tossing his bag behind the counter and hopping over it, all long limbs and pointy elbows. His knees pop slightly as he passes behind you to grab a scoop from the water trough.
“What’re you doing?”
“Uh, helping out?”
And without another word, he turns to the next customer and takes their order, only stepping on the toes of your Keds once or twice before locating the correct flavor.
“God,” He mutters under his breath, the tendons of his forearm prominent as he scoops a glob of pink cotton candy ice cream onto a sugar cone. “People actually like this crap?”
You merely shrug in response before sliding the freezer door shut and opening the next. It goes like this for nearly half and hour before Vickie stumbles in from the service entrance, her cheeks tinged pink and accompanied by a dazed look in her eye.
“Sorry, sorry!” She frantically apologizes, clocking in with her punch card.
Tying on an apron, which Eddie never bothered to do, she greets the customers at the till and rings them up while you make what could very well be the hundredth shake ordered that day, the mixer revving loudly over your retort.
“I’ll allow it,” You turn with a knowing smirk to Vickie, “But you owe me big time, Little Red.”
“Details?” She squeaks.
“Oh, that and more Vic,” You laugh as the machine whirs to a stop.
Deftly, you pour the shake into a cup and shake the canister of whipped cream vigorously. Eddie tries and fails to hide the blush coloring his cheeks as your shirt rides up with the motion. The ‘JERK’ emblazoned on your chest pulling taut against the swell of your breasts from the movement.
He nearly chokes on his own spit.
“Shit,” He rasps as his throat pulls tight.
Passing the shake over with a polite smile to a customer, you thump him forcefully on the back.
Which would be all well and good, if not for the fact that he wasn’t expecting it, and, as a result, falls bodily into your chest, legs tangling with yours, and takes the pair of you down to the mat behind the counter.
“Ow.”
Peering open an eye, he finds Vickie, arms crossed and toe tapping the tile floor, looking down at the both of you with a bemused pull of her lips.
“See, this is why it’s employees only behind the counter,” You say with a grunt as you peel yourself from the floor. “You’re not OSHA certified, Munson.”
Eddie digs the heel of his palms into his eye sockets, hoping that maybe he can just sink into the floor and forget this ever happened.
Because you’re warm, what with having worked up a sweat manning the counter single-handedly and your legs are nice; too nice maybe, with the way his heart is kicking up in his chest, to say nothing of what’s kicking up in his pants.
“Sorry,” He sighs, coming to a seated position. “Are you okay?”
Dusting your hands against the denim cutoffs you’re sporting, you turn and give him a smile. “Never better.”
Legs still tangled, you unwind your limbs from his, crisp white Keds knocking against scuffed Reeboks. He takes the hand you offer and allows himself to be pulled up, only to be greeted by six beatific smiles and less than subtle winks or nods.
“Sooooo,” Dustin drawls, fingers drumming against the glass of the freezer, “Fun trip?”
The ensuing laughter and taunts from what was formerly his favorite group of high schoolers, is enough to make Eddie miss the solitude of Reefer Rick’s cabin.
_
If May was a sprint, then June was a dive into cool water.
Rope swings lassoed around tree branches, splashing into a placid lake from great heights. Blankets spread on rocks and grass for makeshift picnics. The hum of cicadas as lips wrapped around lifted bottles of booze from the Harrington’s liquor cabinet.
Nearly a month gone and Eddie still hadn’t worked up the courage.
Which is how he found himself perched on rock formation that bordered Lover’s Lake with the boys— Harrington, Byers, and Argyle— playing barely tipsy lifeguard as you swam circles around Nancy, Robin, and Vickie. The latter two had somehow wound themselves into a Gordian Knot of limbs and had earned an eagle-eyed glare from one former captain of the swim team.
“Go to the shallows!” Steve called out, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at his feet. “No, Rob,” He huffed and stood up, “You gotta use your arms, like this!” He demonstrated with a perfect backstroke that Robin seemed woefully unequipped to replicate.
“What?!”
Robin’s befuddled call echoed against the rocks lining the shore and spurned Steve into action.
“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, passing the bottle off to Eddie. “Stay there ya dingus!”
Steve’s body elegantly cut into the water and he surfaced to a smattering of applause from those still perched on the rock.
“Good form, I’d give it a solid 8.5,” Eddie decreed before taking long pull from the bottle.
“Now way man,” Argyle piped up, “That’s at least a 9.The way he slipped into the water like that? Some top tier stuff right there.”
He elbowed Jonathan who was preoccupied with blowing rings from his joint.
“Huh? Oh, uh. 5?”
Steve merely rolled his eyes and swam toward Robin and Vickie, who where no closer to shore now than they were when this whole charade began.
“You’re shitting me dude. A 5 out of 10?”
“Oh, fuck.” Jonathan completed one rather slow blink in Eddie’s direction. “I thought it was like, out of five. My bad.”
Argyle called out the new score from the judges to Steve, who had his hands full with Robin and Vickie’s frantically kicking and thrashing limbs, so much so, that he was rather relieved when you swam up beside him to help.
Eddie placed the bottle between his feet and leaned back on his hands, face turned toward the night sky.
Stars littered the inky blue like so many twinkling lights. A few lightning bugs buzzed further along the edge of the wood, a soft yellow glow to guide through the dark. The lake grew calm again, small lapping waves skirting the shore as distant voices grew closer.
“Hey man,” Argyle nudged Eddie’s shoulder with his, knocking him from his reverie. “How’s our favorite soda jerk?”
He smiled despite himself, “She’s fine, I guess.”
“Hmm. And Operation Meatball?”
Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes, “Henderson got to you too, I see. That kid needs to get a hobby.”
Dustin, and the rest of his band of hellions, had gotten it into their heads that Eddie and you were destined to be. Had an entire notebook dedicated to plans and named the whole endeavor after a scene from Lady and the Tramp, which Eddie couldn’t even bring himself to protest.
“I dunno dude,” Argyle shrugged, “She’s schmokin and I may have seen her eye you a time or two.”
He was glad for the cover of night, because his face felt positively on fire.
“You know, if you’d—” Argyle began, only to get cut off by the sound of approaching footfalls.
“Hey guys,” You greeted, stepping onto the rock and dripping water onto Eddie’s arm. “Oh, shit, sorry Ed!” You take a step back and grab a towel from a nearby bag. Tying your hair up in the striped towel, you settle back at his side. “Ooh, got any more of that?”
He follows your eyes to the bottle at his feet, and stretches to grab it. Your damp fingers brush his along the neck of the bottle, and he, impossibly, blushes all the more.
“S’all yours.”
“Much obliged,” You say with a nod toward him.
Your lips wrap around the bottle, and Eddie can’t help but watch a rivulet of water trickle its way down your throat. His fingers itch to chase it, his tongue longs to taste it.
Jonathan deploys a well-timed cough and pointed glance in Eddie’s direction to excuse himself and Argyle.
“Catch you later chica,” Argyle promises with a grasp to your shoulder, “Lemme know when that horchata flavor comes in!”
You promise to do so with a laugh and a wave, before turning your attention back to the water. Eddie sits at your side, quiet, save for the movemnt of his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. There’s a few sounds from Steve dutifully pouring Robin and Vickie into the BMW with conferring with Nancy as she wrangles Jonathan and Argyle into the station wagon.
“You good?”
Turning at the sound of Nancy’s voice, Eddie can see your mouth pull into a smile, the white of your teeth bringing to mind a cheshire cat. Your elbow knocks into his as you duck toward him conspiratorially.
“Whaddya say, Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
Lightning bugs float around your damp hair that’s fallen from its turban, water slick waves drying slowly in the summer heat. A halo blurry gold around your head, Eddie loses all faculty of language, lost in the soft glow cast against your sun warmed skin.
“Take me home?”
He merely nods in response, swallowing around the lump in his throat.
“I’m good!” You call back to Nancy and take another pull from the bottle.
“Call me when you’re home!”
The sound of car engines turning over fills the air, tires crunching over gravel and dried pine needles littering the forest floor. The heat of the day quickly dissipates, replaced with a soft breeze that alleviates a bit of the humidity. And it’s quiet on the shore, save for the clinking of the bottle as you take sips every so often.
For all his gregarious and dramatic antics, truth be told, Eddie didn’t quite know how to simply be. At least, not since spring break with the nearly dying and all of that. He’d returned to the land of the living a little more somber, recovering in the hospital between hushed tones from doctors and nurses, louder exclamations from Henderson and his brood, the comforting weight of Wayne’s hand at his shoulder.
Sure, he’d rallied.
Put on a brave face for the kids, found familiarity in a strained smile mirrored in Steve. Noticed his own body jerking in time with Robin’s at the sound of an unanticipated loud noise. Was quick to cover his discomfort with a joke buoyed by Argyle’s raucous laugh. Found himself helping Nancy plan outings to take everyone’s mind off of things. Sought out Jonathan to share a smoke when it all got to be too much.
But you—
He never minded the quiet with you.
Eddie could maybe, for a moment, let it fall away.
A clink of a glass bottle broke his reverie as it joined the others discarded on the ground.
“This is nice,” You said with a languid stretch, arms raised above your head and falling in a graceful arc as you settled back against the rock.
He had to agree.
“Can I uh, ask you something?”
Your voice had taken on an unfamiliar tone, almost as if you made yourself smaller and unsure. It wasn’t his favorite, he had to admit. Eddie preferred the unapologetic way you carried yourself, a royal flush of confidence which you bandied about with no inhibitions.
Timid didn’t suit you, at least, not in his humble opinion.
He knocked shoulders with you, tried to inject some levity into his voice.
“Shoot.”
“Well,” You squirmed next to him, “And you don’t have to answer this if like, it makes you uncomfortable— the last thing I wanna do is offend you, swear to God.” You take a breath to steel yourself. “I just, I noticed you weren’t swimming today.”
“Ah.”
“I mean,” You clear your throat, “You really never swim, not at Steve’s pool, not here. So.”
“Are you asking if I can swim?” He jokes, “Because, I’m definitely capable. Dear old Dad threw me into a creek,” crick, “And told me to get on with it.”
A hushed laugh falls from your lips, “So, you can but you don’t. Any reason why?”
“Well that,” He says, softer now, “Is quite the story.”
You hum, content with the response not pushing for more than he’s willing to share.
“Tell me someday?”
And oh, is he in trouble. Because the odds of that are more far likely than you’d think.
You’re quick to pack up after that. Eddie trails after you, tossing an odd can or cigarette butt into a trash bag and hauling it to the van. He scratches the light stubble of his jaw, nail catching along the scar decorating his cheek. It’s not as bad as it had been, mostly white with pink tinged edges, and receding into his jawline enough to slip most notice.
It’s not that Eddie regrets the scars, he did what he had to do— the whorls of pink and white puckered skin that now embellished him from hip to shoulder were a simple reminder of that.
Just not one that he’s keen to advertise.
He lets you fiddle with the radio, static crackling through the speakers before the opening riff of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” sails through. An easy smile lights up your face as you lean back in the seat and sing along.
I’ll be with you my darling, soon, I’ll be with you when the stars start falling
His grip tightens on the wheel and he wills himself to focus on the road ahead and not the soft croon of your voice. Which is kind of difficult given how sweet you sound, how desperate he is for your touch.
He rolls up to your apartment complex by the song’s end, having had the pleasure of your signing for the duration of the drive. And Eddie’s probably biased, but he thinks you could give Jack Bruce a run for his money.
He parks the van in front of your building, letting it idle as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You’re grooving a little bit in your seat, and Eddie allows himself a moment to be selfish— gazing as you shake out your mostly dry hair and sway in time to the song, a secret smile pulling at his lips.
Opening your eyes, you meet his gaze. Leaning over the consol, your fingers caress his jaw, turning him to face you fully. The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.
Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.
I’ve been waiting so long, to be where I’m going in the sunshine of your love.
_
But July—
July passes like a dream, as delightful as the sugary syrup currently crawling its way down your arm. The bomb pop melting all too quickly in the height of the summer sun, trickles of red, white, and blue cascade down your sun hewn skin.
A screech pierces the air as Eddie leans over from his seat on the Harrington’s patio to lick the drips from your arm.
Loud enough to draw the attention of the kids and soon his soft huffs of laughter as replaced with a prolonged “Eeeewwww,” from the girls and an offended scoff of “Gross,” from Henderson.
“Can it!” Steve says, volleying a beach ball at his head, knocking his ever-preset baseball cap into the chlorinated water.
Eddie nods in thanks before continuing his assault of your arm.
“Shit, babe, no teeth!”
He ignores this and elects to dig his teeth into the temptation of your skin. You swat him away and recline back in your chair, Raybans affixed to your face, a pout on your lips.
“You’re no fun,” He grouses, kicking back in his recliner. “You use teeth.”
“Artfully,” You quip back in reply, “Poetry will be written about the exploits of my chompers, the deftness, the skill with which I decorate canvases of skin.”
And well yeah, Eddie would know. He has several bruises blossoming along his torso and thighs from said exploits.
So he really couldn’t complain.
He lets the clubmasters slide back onto his face, the blue polarized lenses giving the scene a cooler, dreamier tint. His hand falls to the side, fingers walking their way over to tangle with yours. You give him a quick squeeze before turning your attention back to your latest bookstore acquisition, The Handmaid’s Tale.
In fact, once Eddie got over himself and blurted out some amalgamation of ‘Can I take you out?’, you’d booped him on the nose in response, much to his horror, and waited a beat to say:
“Sure thing, stud,” — Eddie’s summer had only gotten better.
Was it annoying to have near daily occurrence of high schoolers singing “Summer Lovin’” at him? Yes. Were you worth it? Obviously.
Eddie had attempted to date, briefly and disastrously, in the past. In that respect, maybe he was a little gun shy.
But one night stands? Quickies? Handies after a deal at a party? Bjs in the back of the van?
Yeah, that he’d done. And was definitely the more enthusiastic partner in retrospect. And now, with you?
Well, suffice it to say that your first round in the sack wasn’t exactly picture perfect, and he’d nearly gotten a broken nose for all his effort. But, y’know, learning curve and all that, maybe some lighting was required so he could avoid getting socked in the mouth or something.
“Yuck, what is that?” Dustin says with thinly veiled annoyance, gesturing to your hand clasped in Eddie’s. “Hands Across America?”
“The fuck,” Eddie perks up, squinting as he flips his sunglasses onto his forehead. “Hands doing what now?”
“Pfft,” You blow a raspberry and lazily thumb over to a new page, “You don’t even know what day it is, or what’s going on.”
“Yeah, and I wish I knew even less.”
“Hands Across America was months ago, by the way.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
“Really and truly.”
“So, hey,” Eddie ignores Dustin’s gagging and turns toward you in earnest. “D’ya like sex?”
“Uh huh.”
“And travel, you like that, right?”
“Yep.”
“Well then, sweetheart,” He drops your hand from his, drawing your interest away from the plot.
You huff, perturbed by the interruption and glance his way.
“Then you can fuck right off.”
Eddie raises a solitary finger elegantly, aristocratically even. Something practiced time and time again until it became second nature. It’d be kind of impressive if he weren’t so damned annoying about it, flipping the bird every chance he got.
A trait that, unfortunately, the young Wheeler had adopted as his own.
Despite yourself, a laugh breaks from your lips, loud enough to draw the other’s attention from the pool.
“God, I hate you.”
“Really and truly?”
“Oh, you bet sunshine.”
Unbeknownst to the pair of you, Steve and Robin had corralled the kids out of the pool and lured them away with the promise of pizza. Nancy sidles out from the sliding glass door with the cordless in hand, tossing it over to Eddie.
“We got the usual— cheese, pepperoni, and cheesy bread. But I know you’re particular, so.”
“Right on, Wheels. Good lookin’ out.”
Eddie grabs for you again fingers twining with yours as he rattles off the usual to the pizza guy as Nancy makes her way back inside.
“Hey man, can I get an order of mushroom and black olive with the banana peppers and a shit ton of red pepper flakes? Uh huh, yeah.”
He pulls the phone away from his face, tucking it against his jaw to mouth something to you.
You watch his lips, red from one too many popsicles, form the words.
“Garlic sauce? Hell yeah.”
He returns to the call.
“And the— Oh, you heard that? Cool. Thanks, man.”
He hangs up and tosses the phone onto a rumpled pile of towels, tugging at your arm.
“Ugh, what,” You grouse, finally dropping your book on the patio.
“You’re so far away,” He whines, draping the back of his hand across his forehead to heave a woeful sigh. “Oh, when will my beloved return from the war?”
You roll your eyes and clamber over to his pool chair, straddling his hips. “Okay, calm down Scarlett. Tara is thattaway.” You hike a thumb somewhere in the general vicinity of what you’re pretty sure is south. You laugh and crawl your way into his lap.
And, here’s the thing:
It’s easy.
A foreign concept in Eddie’s life up until this particular point.
Which is to say, that since the advent of your relationship with him, Eddie found himself spending more time on his knees than he ever had amongst the pews.
While there’s no catechism for for this particular piety, he’ll take this act of communion for what it is—
His lips and tongue spouting devotionals as he kneels between your thighs. And he’d never been one for God, but maybe He’d made it so two bodies can fit holy wholly together.
After all, he’d been penitent enough.
You twine a streamer of his hair around your finger, head slotting into the cul-de-sac of his throat. His arms wind about your hips, anchoring you in place.
Steve sticks his head out to say he’s forcing the kids on a field-trip to get the pizza, Nance and Robin are grabbing some drinks from the store.
You hum in idle contentment and sink further into Eddie, as if he could consume you entire.
If my body is of your body and your body is of mine, can ever the two be parted? What lies in me now does in you, a reflection in kind.
The marks that decorate his skin, both intentional and accidental, fail to define him.
If they ever really could.
You’d traced their shape, plotted their paths, and transmuted them before his very eyes. The weight, the lead sinking and skittering and pulling him down was no more.
“If I could,” you’d said softly one night, a riot of arms and legs tangled against his own, a lone finger rhapsodizing against his ribs, travelling a familiar continent. “I’d paint you golden.”
No, not gilt.
But gold.
It still daunts Eddie how freely he fell— for you and the effervescent joy that flourished in your wake. It used to unnerve him, if he thought about it too much. For the longest time, he wasn’t sure if what he felt was real, or simply a facsimile of love.
He learned not to dawdle in his darker moods.
He’d hummed at your declaration, so much more accustomed to gloomier comparisons. You’d turned up at him, cleaving your chin across the ladder of his ribs, eyes big and brighter than any star he’d ever seen.
And he hadn’t known what to say.
Weeks had passed and he still hadn’t a clue how to respond.
“Hey,” Dustin yells, striding out of the sliding glass door. “Dinner’s ready!” He waits impatiently, striking a similar pose to that of Steve when he’s at his wit’s end.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, shooing him away and slinging a leg off of the recliner.
He takes you with him, much to your protest.
“Noooo,” you whine, “Eddie, the physical therapist said—”
“That I’m fine,” He reminds you, securing his grip under your thighs as he carries you inside the house.
Your petulant pout demands satisfaction, and he acquiesces, dipping his head to yours in a quick kiss.
“Y’know,” he says, voice rumbling and low as everyone fixes up their plates in the kitchen. He sets you on the island counter, his hands spread just past your thighs, arms loosely caging you in.
He smells like summer— sugar and chlorine and salt and the tell-tale wisp of a cigarette. His hair is loose and wild, sheltering you from prying eyes as he rests his head against yours.
It hits him like a thunderclap and descends as quickly as revelation.
“I’d follow you into the sun.”
It’s not a declaration, but a simple fact.
Love.
He’d tell you someday, but not quite yet.
For now, he’ll watch your lips kick up in that adorable smile of yours, the kind that crinkles the corner of your eyes from the sheer amount of joy packed in it. Allowing himself to float on the thinnest of air just for a moment.
This summer, you’ve been his North Star, always there.
And he hopes you always will be.
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abbyromanoff · 9 months
Note
hellloo🤗 i was wondering if u could do a 1850s natasha x f!reader based on ivy by taylor swift. kinda like where nat is a nurse or something and reader is a housewife. nat wants reader to herself. kinda like emily dickinson and sue gilbert from dickinson?
IVY
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PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1124
WARNINGS: death, nat kills someone but not in a dark way, talks of witch craft, cheating, think that’s really all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Will he be okay, Nat?” She sighed, grabbing your hand and leading you to a more secluded area. You gulped nervously, your eyes falling around the building to spot if anyone else would have sighting of your shared encounter.
“You’re worrying me, what’s wrong with him?” She rubbed your arms soothingly, bringing you in for a quick, soft kiss before resting her forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry, love, I’m afraid the wound is too great to heal. It’s spread throughout his body and is infecting him. The doctors have tried removing it but there’s only a slim chance he can survive, and even then he would live a life of deep pain and suffering.” You bit your lip, removing yourself from her hold and turning, unable to let Nat see the tears that threatened to escape. You never loved him, that was known to her, but she understood your grievance.
“He was a good man, he didn’t deserve this.” That was a lie, and the bruises often marking your body only proved so. Nat would never tell you her lips turned upwards when hearing the news, but deep down you knew she was thrilled. This could be your one chance to escape with her through the woods to the small cabin she had spent her free time building for you. It was the one of your dreams, and your husband never cared to listen, stating he was too busy to build. But Nat wasn’t, she devoted the time she did not have to making everything and anything your heart desired, and she guessed watching her father working tirelessly building homes for others helped her learn a few steps.
“It may be best to say your goodbyes now before it is much too late.”
The following day you decided to visit your husband who awaited his time, he knew he didn’t have long, but he refused to admit it to himself. Flowers were held in your hand from your garden, despite the fact that he never cared to even notice them. Everything you worked hard for he lacked to notice, but you grew used to it.
But what you didn’t expect to walk in on was Nat silencing his screams, and her needle ripping the stitches the doctor performed on. Your eyes widened, and you dropped the petaled object in hand, the action catching her ear as she turned quickly, copying your position the moment she saw your figure.
“Y/N..”
“You’re- you’re killing him! How could you?” You rushed over to the man, and Nat worried your noises would alert the few other nurses or doctors. When you reached for him, you felt his heart slowing to a stop, and you assumed Nat had been putting him through this for longer than you had seen.
“He wished to die, Y/N. It hurt him too much to even breathe, and he begged me to take his life, so I did. I’m sorry.” Your tears began to fall onto his now warm skin, you did not want to feel it when he was cold and empty.
“I just- I can’t believe he’s actually gone.”
“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She was taken aback when you wrapped your arms around her figure, desperately searching for comfort that you could only receive from her.
“Take me away from this, please, I can’t handle it.” That night she brought you to your home, allowing you to gather your belongings in secrecy. People hadn’t quite yet heard of the death of your husband, but your sudden departure would cause awful suspicion from the townsmen. So, you decided that this would be the last time your presence was spotted in this town, and you were to run off with the love of your life.
“Do you need any help with that?” Nat stood in the doorway of your bedroom, the one you used to share with your now-late partner.
“I’m almost done, I’m only gathering essentials.”
“Really? I took a few pieces of furniture as well, I’ve never been able to afford any of this.” You chuckled, stalking towards her and pressing a kiss to her sweet lips, the action bringing you a quick relief. When she was with you, holding you, kissing you, making love to you, everything seemed to fade away until it was only the two of you left.
“You’re the most important thing in my life, Y/N. I can not even imagine losing you.” You smiled, resting your head on her shoulder as she embraced you in a warm hug, causing you to melt in her hold.
“I have a surprise for you, darling.” Your face lit up, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.
“Follow me when you are done packing, I have a place for the two of us to stay.”
Less than an hour later you were both scavenging through the woods, giggles leaving both of your lips as you ran, the leaves teasing your ankles as your hand was held by her.
“Okay, it’s right over here.” You both stopped, and she came up behind you with a smirk, her hands coming to cover your eyes as she led you forward. Even in the dark, she knew where to lead you, and you followed, trusting that she would never bring you into danger.
“And open!” You gasped when spotting the small building, and words seemed to fail to gather in your mind. It was beautiful, everything you had ever dreamed of, and everything you confined her in.
“It’s…beautiful. I can’t even believe it,”
“Well, believe it, because this is our new home.” She gripped the sides of your waist softly, pecking your cheek and lifting each item into her arms with ease, her strength always seemed to interest you.
“Here we can grow old together, just like we always wanted. I have a garden for you out back, so you can grow all the vegetables and flowers you wish. There’s a lake not far from here that I promise to bring you to any time I can, and there we can make love on the soft grass while the water sways in the wind. We can marry there, even if it may not be legally, I will still consider you my wife. I want to spend every waking moment with you here, and I will never wish to leave you, my love. So, Y/N, will you take my hand in marriage, and join me as my lover for all eternity? In sickness and in hell, I want you under all circumstances. And even in death, I will be with you, in every universe.”
And in every universe, you two found your way together, just like she promised.
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simp4eshal · 4 months
Text
we fell in love in october
spencer reid x reader
just pure fluff bc i love him and i miss autumn so bad and i'm born in october
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You always loved autumn. The crisp air, the vibrant hues of red and gold that painted the trees, the way the world seemed to slow down and breathe deeply. You were walking through the park, leaves crunching under your boots, the scent of bonfires and earth filling your senses. It was a perfect October evening, the kind that made you feel alive and nostalgic all at once.
You were heading to meet Spencer, your heart fluttering with excitement. You had met a year ago, in October, under similar circumstances. It had been a serendipitous encounter at a local bookstore, both reaching for the same well-worn copy of Emily Dickinson's poems. Your hands had touched, and the connection had been instant, electric.
As you approached the spot where you had first met, you saw Spencer standing there, his tall frame leaning casually against the bookstore's entrance, a thoughtful expression on his face. His dark curls were tousled by the breeze, and he wore a cozy sweater that made him look both intellectual and endearing. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight of him, your own personal autumn miracle.
"Spencer," you called, your voice filled with warmth.
He turned, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "You," he replied, pushing off the wall to meet you halfway. You embraced, the familiarity of his arms around you filling you with a sense of peace.
"I missed you," you said softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.
"I missed you too," he replied, his gaze intense and sincere. "Every day."
You decided to take a walk through the park, your hands naturally finding each other’s. The evening sun cast a golden glow, making the world look like it was bathed in magic. You walked in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the rustle of leaves and the distant laughter of children playing.
Spencer broke the silence first. "Do you remember this time last year?"
You smiled, your eyes twinkling with the memory. "How could I forget? We were both reaching for that book, and you insisted I take it."
"And you insisted we read it together," Spencer added, a chuckle in his voice.
"Best decision I ever made," you said, squeezing his hand.
You reached a clearing in the park where a small bench sat, overlooking a pond that mirrored the sky's colors. You sat down, close enough to feel each other's warmth in the cool air.
"You know," Spencer began, his voice thoughtful, "there's this song by girl in red called 'we fell in love in october.' It always reminds me of us."
You tilted your head, intrigued. "How so?"
"It talks about falling in love in October, about how the world feels right when you're with that special person, and how everything seems more vibrant, more alive. That's how I felt when I met you, and how I feel every time I'm with you."
Your heart swelled with emotion. "I love that," you said softly. "And I love you."
Spencer turned to you, his eyes full of warmth and love. "I love you too. You make every day feel like that perfect October day, full of color and life."
You sat in silence for a moment, letting the words settle between you, a promise and a truth. The sun was setting, casting a fiery glow over the landscape, making the world look like it was ablaze with beauty.
"Do you ever think about the future?" you asked quietly, leaning your head on his shoulder.
"All the time," Spencer replied, his voice just as soft. "I think about us, about growing old together, about making new memories every October, and every month in between."
You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. "I want that too," you whispered.
As the night fell and the stars began to twinkle in the sky, you stayed on the bench, wrapped in each other's arms. The world around you grew darker, but your love only shone brighter, like a beacon in the night.
"We fell in love in October," Spencer murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I fall in love with you all over again, every single day."
You smiled, feeling a tear slip down your cheek, not from sadness but from the overwhelming joy and love you felt in that moment. "Always," you whispered back, your heart full.
In the stillness of the October night, under a canopy of stars, you and Spencer knew your love was timeless, a constant amidst the changing seasons. You held onto each other, ready to face whatever the future held, your hearts intertwined like the leaves on the autumn trees.
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denwritesandcries · 4 months
Text
gf!Shauna Shipman HCs
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Pairing: shauna shipman x fem!reader
Summary: To be Shauna's girlfriend is… Something else, to say at least.
Word count: 1,4k.
Content: 96’ timeline, cursing, suggestive, kissing, kinda toxic shauna, jealousy, fluff, the team being done with u two.
Note: I think that’s probably a little too long for headcanons but I’m really glad someone asked for it cause I love writing for Shauna sm.
English is not my first language.
- You most likely only spoke to each other because you were paired up on some project in a class that you both hate. A classic, but also one of the few ways for Shauna to actively approach anyone she hasn't known for years or been introduced to by Jackie, the girl isn't very sociable.
- She definitely found the most random and stupid reason possible to not like you at first, just because she enjoys being a little hater.
- Like she doesn't want to meet with you to discuss the topic and just leaves you to do your part alone and you just do it because this quiet girl on the football team is pretty hot and also scares the hell out of you.
- When you guys inevitably put it all together she'd take one look at it and say it's shit and make you do it all from scratch again in like one night as if it was your fault.
- And you simply wouldn't understand why she decided to pick on you. She’d have a beef with you that only exists in her head and you’ll be like??? Wondering why the heck she keeps staring at you like a judging hare even after getting (surprisingly) an A+.
(that’s a strangely accurate description, but you think it fits her perfectly well. Eyes widen following you and nose angrily twitching when you pass by.)
- She has a crush on you. Since the beginning. But she has too many problems to actually admit that to herself.
- She would finally admit that fell for you when she sees you reading something by an author she loves. She's a cliché and a failure, no matter how much she tries to deny it. You'd be in the stands during one of the Yellowjackets' practices (by pure chance, definitely not because you want to watch her too), with a notebook open at your side and a book on your lap, working on an assignment for extra credit, Shauna would see you when she stopped to have some water and she wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day.
Especially if it was something by Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson or Shirley Jackson. She’d go feral. Seriously.
- Then she finally decides to act (after some suspicious looks from Jackie and screams from Taissa for disturbing everyone during the game) and it's like she was never mean to you. She’ll literally act like she's already your friend because she doesn't know how to apologize and start something properly. Will sit next you in class – and kick out whoever actually sat there – and talk to you normally, looking away and chewing on the end of her pen, speaking in a soft and innocent voice.
- You're very much confused and a little suspicious about all this, but you're not gonna complain about it with her slowly running a hand up your arm and blinking her bright deep eyes at you. Even though she still stares. A lot.
- This is how you get a girlfriend, which isn't really what you expected at all, but it's a pretty welcome change.
- gf!Shauna who only asked you out and took you for a milkshake on your first date, even though she doesn't really like sweets, when she heard Nat tell Van that she was thinking about doing that exactly same thing and finally decided to do something (they did it on purpose, just so that Shauna would stop bothering them with her constant yearning).
- gf!Shauna who accompanies you to all your classes, sometimes even being late for hers. She is so show off carrying your backpack for you and walking close enough for your shoulders to brush and rushing to Jackie's side after opening the door for you.
- gf!Shauna who keeps a hand on you all the time, on your shoulder, on your waist, on your arm, but who is too shy to hold your hand and intertwine your fingers properly. She'll become a mess if you hold her hand in the hallways or in front of the team and pretend like she doesn't like it, complaining that you're being clingy (she won't let you let go of her hand at all though).
- gf!Shauna who is jealous and possessive as fuck, no one is safe from her, not even Jackie. She will shoot daggers with her eyes and scare anyone who even breathes near you in a way that makes her feel insecure. Especially if it's someone on the team. Lottie is usually a recurring target of her reactions, making a point of keeping as much distance as possible from Shauna on the field after she sees her talking to you.
- Will totally pretend not to care and say there's nothing wrong when you ask if she's alright, while silently seething with rage and acting weird towards you, keeping everything to herself until she eventually explodes. gf!Shauna who waits until she's alone to write shit about you and the other person in her diary with a horrible, rushed handwriting.
- gf!Shauna, with whom you have to be really patient.
- gf!Shauna with whom you have study dates where she actually makes you study because she won't admit being with someone with a poor average, but who will start kissing you pretty quick until she ends up straddling you the moment she gets tired and decides you both had enough.
- gf!Shauna who absolutely loves seeing you in the stands during practice or a game. She'll show off like never before as soon as she realizes you've come, especially if you yell or cheer for her when she scores a goal. Nat, Lottie and Tai are rolling eyes hard for you two every single time.
- gf!Shauna who takes you in her car wherever you want and whenever you want, driving with one hand on the steering and an elbow resting on the window. Who looks at you with her big eyes shining like a kicked puppy if you ever say you don't need a ride.
- gf!Shauna who has the worst, most questionable taste in movies ever and who gets outraged if you mention it or try to get her to change her choice on a movie night. She's too stubborn to change her mind, so you settle for admiring her profile and leaning back against her warm body on the couch.
- gf!Shauna with whom you have almost weekly sleepovers because her parents are too oblivious to realize there’s something between you. Sleeping in her bed under the pretext that the floor is too cold and keeping the door closed so as not to bother anyone with your teenage nonsense and loud music. It's the perfect combination.
- gf!Shauna who keeps her favorite polaroids of you on your dates alongside the photos of her and Jackie on her bedroom wall.
- gf!Shauna who's always the big spoon and loves feeling your body against hers. She's practically a furnace, perfect for hiding your face on her neck or chest. The best way to fall asleep is with her arms around you and your face buried in her soft skin.
- gf!Shauna who loves to bite and leave marks for every inch of exposed skin you have. Who bites your shoulder joint and digs her nails into your back when you have her pressed against the mattress or the lockers in the changing room.
- gf!Shauna who goes crazy when she sees you in her clothes, especially her button-down shirts and flannels. Sometimes even hides your clothes just to have the excuse to give you hers, because she doesn't know how to ask you to wear them.
- gf!Shauna who writes cheesy and lame love poems for you like a victorian poet, because she doesn't know how to express herself in words without being on impulse or in a fight. You always praise her and thank her a thousand times for them, without letting her know that you don't understand most of what she writes.
- gf!Shauna who demands you tell her you love her before she does it first. She literally asks for it. And then she only says it back weeks later, rushed and nervous, at the moment you least expect it.
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bingwriterxo · 1 year
Text
the shakespeare exhibit - part 8
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: in which you and tara both have things to talk about
warnings: mentions of stabbing, talks of substance abuse and verbal abuse
word count: 2700+
previous part | next part
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Finals season was in full swing at Blackmore University, sending its students into poor sleep schedules and even worse diets as they attempted to cram a semester’s worth of information into their brains.
You and Tara, unfortunately, were no exception. For the past week, the two of you had holed yourselves up in either the library or one of your apartments, your noses stuck in your books and your hands fumbling around for an energy drink whenever you needed a pick-me-up.
The only time you had taken a break was to celebrate Tara’s 20th birthday, but even then it was hardly a celebration. You had gathered all of her friends at her apartment, had a small party consisting of drinks and movies, and then went right back to studying, Tara in tow.
Safe to say, the stress levels were at an all-time-high, especially for Tara, who was experiencing her first round of finals in university. You had offered her a few studying tips, since you had already gone through the struggles of freshman-year exams the year prior, before immersing yourself in your own revision.
You were in the midst of reviewing for your Romantic Literature course--the last final that you had for the semester--when your mother called you, leading you to slip out of Tara’s bedroom and into the hallway to speak to her.
Tara sat at her desk, grumbling as she tried to study for her Introduction to Literature course. This is just as stupid as it was when I was studying for the midterm, she thought, eyes scanning her notes about Emily Dickinson. Maybe it’s even more stupid now.
Your voice broke her concentration as you walked back into her room, and she twisted her chair around to face you. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll ask her, alright?” You rolled your eyes and pointed at your phone, mouthing, she talks so much. Tara giggled softly, extending her arms for you to stand between, and you sighed as you slid into place, her fingers rubbing over your hips. “Okay. Yup. Yeah, okay. Yeah. Right. Okay, bye, mom.”
“What was that all about?” Tara asked when you hung up, throwing your phone onto her desk. “Did Eddie pull another prank on the Dylan Thomas statue again?”
You chuckled, thinking about the photo that your brother had sent you the week before—he had put a wig, makeup, and a shaving-cream beard on the statue of your grandfather’s late friend. “No, no. The statue garden has gone untouched this week.”
She shook her head, a grin on her face. “I still can’t believe you guys have a statue garden,” she said. But of course her family does. Because why wouldn’t they?
“Well, my dad’s always been big into statues. Like, when he was younger, he--” You cut yourself off. “That’s not important. Anyway, my mom invited us to spend Christmas at the house.” Tara’s eyes lit up, a type of joy that she didn’t know existed rushing through her. Us? she thought. I’ve been invited to family Christmas? “Do you want to go--”
“Yes!” she exclaimed immediately, nodding her head fervently. “Please, yes.” Shit, I’ll need to buy presents. What the hell do you get for kids who could buy anything they’ve ever wanted?
You giggled at her enthusiasm and tilted your head. “Are you sure you and Sam aren’t going back to California for the holidays?” you asked.
Back to California? Back to…Woodsboro? She furrowed her eyebrows, biting her bottom lip. “Why would we go to Cali?”
You squirmed a little where you stood. What’s she so nervous about? she wondered. “I just thought you might want to see your mom?” Your voice pitched on the last word, and Tara tensed, her arms falling to her sides. You frowned and reached out, but she pulled back, swallowing.
“No, there’s--we’re not--no,” she stammered out, her voice short. She shook her head. “I’ll be here.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
Tara wanted the conversation to be over, but your lips were pursed like you still had something you wanted to say. “What?” she asked.
You shook your head. “Nothing!”
She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at you. “No, you look like you have something to say. What?”
“I just…you’ve never spoken about her. Maybe we could--”
That’s because there’s nothing to say.” She’s good for nothing, she thought. “I don’t like to talk about her.” I’d rather read Shakespeare, which is really saying something.
“But--”
“No.” Her voice was stern, clear-cut, and she watched as you deflated a little, your eyes flitting around the room. She sighed, running a hand down her face. “I’m not doing this right now, okay? I’m not talking about her.”
“Tar…” The nickname came out as a coo, soft and careful and meant to be comforting, but it ignited a strange irritation beneath Tara’s skin, and something in her snapped.
“Listen, we can’t all have a perfect-fucking-family, okay?” she shouted, and you flinched, taking a step back, your eyes widening at her sudden outburst. “Just because you have parents who are there and who care doesn’t mean everyone does! I mean, Jesus, my mom didn’t even come to see me last year after--” After Amber stabbed me half-to-death, she finished in her head.
The air was tense, quiet. You stood in front of her, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, and Tara cursed herself when she noticed that your hands were trembling slightly.
“Baby…” She reached out for you, but her fingers met open air as you shook your head and crossed the room to grab your things from her bed.
“It’s fine. I--I shouldn’t have pushed,” you rushed out, your voice shaking. You threw your notebook and laptop into your backpack hastily before hurrying to the door. Tara stood, desperate to do something to stop you from leaving, but she didn’t get the chance as you said, “I’m sorry.” Of course she’d apologize when I snapped at her. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
The door shutting behind you pulled all the air from Tara’s lungs, and she fell back into her chair, holding her face in her hands.
“God fucking damnit,” she groaned. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
* * *
Hours later--during which Tara had sat in her bed and moped--there was a knock on her bedroom door. For a brief second, she thought it was you. But there would be no reason for her to come back after I got mad at her, she reminded herself, and any hope she had disappeared when Sam walked into the room, a frown on her face.
“I thought Y/N was staying for dinner so you two could study through it,” Sam said, bringing Tara’s attention right back to the fact that you had left. She stepped into the room, her arms crossed over her chest, and asked, “What happened? You’re all”--she gestured at Tara--“sad.”
Tara huffed, glaring at her sister. “Nothing,” she grumbled.
Sam scoffed. “Oh, please. You and Y/N have been attached at the hip since the start of finals.” She shook her head. “Scratch that--since you two began dating. So, what happened, Tara?”
Stupid Sam, being a good older sister. Tara sighed and relented. “She asked about mom.”
“Oh.” Sam frowned. “And what did you say?”
“I--” Was a bad girlfriend and got mad at her for no reason, Tara thought, shame seeping into her veins. “I snapped at her. I didn’t mean to. It’s just…mom’s a tough topic, and it’s even harder because Y/N’s family-life is so perfect.” She clenched her jaw and glanced away, ignoring the spark of jealous lighting in her chest. “She’s got two parents who are there, and they have money, and she’s just…” Perfect.
Sam tilted her head, walking over and sitting beside Tara. “You know, it wasn’t easy for me to tell Danny about mom, either. He’s in the same boat as Y/N--well, not the super rich family part, but his parents are together and there.” She shrugged. “It’s hard not to envy that, but she’s your girlfriend, so you’ll need to talk to her about mom at some point. She deserves to know.”
Tara nodded, hanging her head. “I know. I feel horrible for getting upset with her.” She gestured lamely at her phone. “I tried texting and calling her, but…” She pointed across the room, where your phone still sat on her desk. “Obviously that didn’t work.”
Sam hummed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Tara. Maybe she just needed a minute.” She rested her hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Plus, she’ll need her phone.”
“What if she comes back and breaks up with me?” Tara asked, looking up at Sam with wide eyes. What if she never speaks to me again? she thought. What if this is it? What if--
“Every couple has arguments, Tara.” Sam smiled softly at her. “She’s not going to break up with you over this. That girl’s head over heels for you, even more than you are for her. It’s gonna be okay, okay?”
Tara bit the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, okay,” she said, not missing the sorrow in her own voice. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Sam stood, her hands on her hips and her head tilted. “Now, should we get Chinese food or pizza?”
* * *
Sam was right: you did just need a minute.
It was as Tara was getting ready for bed that she heard a knock on the front door. Sam’ll deal with it, she decided as she climbed beneath her sheets, ready to lay in the darkness and wallow for a while. Just as she was reaching over to turn off her bedside lamp, a certain name caught her attention.
“Oh, hi, Y/N!” Sam said loudly from the living room, and Tara knew she had raised her voice so that she would know who was at the door. She sat up immediately. Y/N is here? What? There was some mumbling before Sam’s voice came again. “Yeah, she’s in her room. Go ahead.”
Moments later, there were soft knocks against her bedroom door, and Tara scrambled out of her bed, rushing across the room to open the door for you. There you stood, your lips pulled in a downturned smile and your eyes wide with worry.
“Hey, pretty girl,” you muttered. You were still wearing the same clothes from the day, and your backpack was still hanging off your shoulders. Did she not go home? she wondered, furrowing her eyebrows. You pulled your arm out from behind you, revealing a small bouquet of flowers. “Got you these.”
Tara blinked. She bought me flowers?!  “I--Thanks?” She took them from your outstretched hand. “What are you doing here?”
“I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?” you tried to joke, but your voice was strained, like you were trying to be careful, and Tara felt guilt prick at her knowing that she was the cause. “Could I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. Always,” she rushed out, moving to her bed to sit. She placed the flowers on her bedside table and watched as you sat in front of her, fingers playing with her blanket. “So, what’s up?” ‘What’s up?’ Really? That’s the best I can do?
You sighed, a shaky breath falling from your lips. “I want to apologize,” you said. “I didn’t mean to push you into talking about your mom earlier. I know she’s a touchy subject.”
Tara frowned. “Why are you apologizing? I’m sorry for shouting at you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You shook your head, glancing up and finally making eye-contact with her. “No, it’s okay. You didn’t want to talk about her. And, that’s okay.” You shrugged and offered her a comforting smile. “You don’t have to tell me about her…ever, if you don’t want to.”
“I should, though. I mean, we should talk about her.”
“Tara, you really don’t have to--”
“No, I--I want to.” Want’s a strong word, she thought. But I should.
“Okay,” you said, nodding and giving her your full attention. “You have the floor.”
She sighed heavily. “Well, my dad left when I was 8. My mom started working more so that she could afford Sam and I, but it turned more into an obsession for her, I think. Next thing I knew, she was never there. Sam left home when I was 13, and it was just me.” She shrugged, glancing down and fiddling with her fingers. “Then, Sam came back after I was attacked, and my mom wouldn’t talk to her, so we made the choice to cut her off. I haven’t spoken to her since we moved.”
Tara clicked her tongue, looking back up at you. To her surprise, your face wasn’t full of the pity she was used to seeing after telling people about her past; you were watching her carefully, looking close to tears.
“So, that’s that,” she said awkwardly.
You inhaled sharply, blinking your glassy eyes away. “You didn’t deserve any of that, Tar, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with it.” You reached out, your hand cupping her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. “I’m so happy that you’ve found your family.”
Her heart fluttered at your words, her mind flashing to Sam and Mindy and Chad. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I am, too. I really love those guys.” And I’ve found you, too, she thought. You make it all complete.
You grinned, and she practically melted into her mattress. “Good. They’re good--all of them.”
She giggled. “C’mere.” She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you to lay down with her, your face nuzzled into her neck. She laughed at the feeling of your nose against her skin, and said, “I love you. Like, a lot.”
Your arms wrapped around her waist, and you squeezed lightly. “I love you, like, a lot, too.” You sighed into her. “And I’m sorry for leaving like that earlier. I just…I don’t do well with raised voices.”
Huh? Suddenly, she was on high alert. Why not? What happened? “Any particular reason?”
You twisted in her hold so that you could lay beside her, your gaze trained on the ceiling. She scooted down so that her head was level with yours and looked at you, tracing your side profile with her eyes. So pretty, she thought. Wait, stay on topic, Tara.
You clenched your jaw. “We’ve never talked about it, but, um, my dad…” You closed your eyes. “When I was younger, my dad had a big drinking problem.” Her eyebrows furrowed. Her dad? That man? Really? “He was never physical,” you said, shaking your head lightly. “But he had a temper when he was drunk, and everything I did was always wrong.”
“Oh, Y/N,” she sighed, intertwining her fingers with yours. Your grip was tight, like she would float away if you didn’t hold on.
“He’d yell a lot, at me, at my mom.” Oh, baby. Your thumb rubbed over the skin of her hand. “But he’s good now. He got better after the boys were born--got sober. He hasn’t had a drink since.” You turned your head, looking back at her.
“He’s not, like, obsessed with apples, or anything,” you said. What does that have to do with the conversation? she wondered. “But, he eats them a lot when we have parties. That was his thing--eat an apple when he wanted a drink. It stuck, so we keep the fridge stocked, and any time someone sees him even look in the direction of alcohol, we get him an apple.” You smiled. “He eats them begrudgingly, but he’ll never have an apple out of his own volition now.”
Tara chuckled softly. “I’m happy he’s better now, but I’m sorry you dealt with that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
You shrugged, leaning closer so that your forehead rested against her cheek. “It’s okay now. I’m alright,” you promised. “Just…never buy that man an apple, alright?” you joked, easing the tension in the air.
“Deal,” she agreed, nudging your head up. She leaned in, kissed you, and said, “I guess no family’s perfect after all, huh?” when she pulled away.
“I guess not.” You grinned, leaning up on your elbow to hover over her. “But, maybe ours could be the first.”
Her heart practically stopped, and she couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. Ours? she thought. She felt like she wanted to burst from the amount of joy that came with that thought. Yeah. Ours.
“Okay.” She pushed herself up and kissed you again. “Ours will be the first.”
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theloyalpin · 10 days
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The Loyal Pin (2024) dir. Kittisak Cheewasatjasakun / I need you. And I want you, with an ever increasing, terrible passion of longing. — Edna St. Vincent Millay (x) / but my heart wants more. — Emily Dickinson (x) / I need you here. We've still so many things to talk about, — Miguel Hernández (x)
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hp-hcs · 8 months
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Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy x he/him
Yanderes au
He’s a pureblood who was forced to be a death eater, like them. And they get this overwhelming possessive urge to protect him from anyone and anything.
When he’s in pain they can’t - seriously can’t even think of leaving him alone. They’re physically hurt seeing him in pain. If he’s struggling they are going to help, whether he asks for it or not. If someone hurts him? Hell even if Voldemort himself hurts him? Even he wouldn’t survive their wrath.
They see themselves in him. But also not, because they wouldn’t care for themselves the way they care for him. They wouldn’t isolate themselves as they do with him. They don’t love themselves. Like how they are sickenly obsessed with him.
They don’t really let him do anything for himself because of their obsession. What if his bag clip breaks and cuts his hand? Yeah no. They’ll get Goyle to carry it for you. What? He’s feeling hungry? Don’t even think about getting up. They’ll order a house elf to make the best there is. He’s being sent on a death eater mission? Oh they think not. Never again. Never again.
i’ll be honest, i have like five very similar requests in my inbox already, so i kind of just skimmed this one until those last four lines hit me like a fucking TRUCK
! five part series; each part has six chapters ! (ambitious, i’m aware)
.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.
『 Never Again 』
Yandere! Good! Draco Malfoy x Male! Reader x Yandere! Good! Mattheo Riddle
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【 Part One — The Lesser of Two Evils (We Were Children) 】
Chapter One — Nobodies (Who Are You? Are You Nobody Too?)
.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.
❝ I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you - Nobody - too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't tell! they’d advertise - you know! How dreary - to be - Somebody! How public - like a Frog - To tell one’s name - the livelong June - To an admiring Bog! ❞ — “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”, Emily Dickinson
.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.
Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy had majorly fucked up five times in their lives.
The first was, of course, choosing to take the Dark Mark and swear allegiance to the Dark Lord—deadly ultimatum or not.
(Choosing is a strong word, though. They didn’t choose. They were told.)
They were fourteen.
~~~
An honor, they were told it was.
A once in a lifetime opportunity, their mothers crooned while stroking their hair. How proud you’ll make your father.
Proud, they repeated in their minds. I’ll make everyone proud.
They kept repeating the sentiment, even as their flesh sizzled and crackled, darkened and flaky around the edges of the new and never-healing burn.
Even as they were sharply dismissed from the Death Eaters’ meeting without so much as a glance from their fathers.
Even as the boys went back to their respective rooms in Malfoy Manor—where Lord Voldemort had decided to set up shop with his army of loyal sycophants—and bandaged up their arms.
Even as they both cried themselves to sleep—praying for Someone to rescue them from this self-inflicted hell—they repeated the sentiment, over and over.
They’ll tell me they’re proud of me. They will.
But Nobody did.
~~~
“Good. Now kill him,” Lord Voldemort hissed in his son’s ear, his hand holding the elbow of Mattheo’s wand arm steady. “Just like we practiced.”
Mattheo licked his chapped lips, steeling himself as he eyed the pleading Muggle man before him.
“Sir- b-boy, please! I- I’ve done n-nothing-”
“Avada Kedavra.”
The Muggle dropped like a rock, his pleas sharply cut off as he fell backwards. His skull made a sickening crack! as it hit the fine marble flooring of the Malfoy manor.
A slow and twisted grin of glee crossed Lord Voldemort’s face. “A-ha! Very good, Mattheo. Well done. Brilliant form, perfect diction…”
(The Dark Lord was not a stupid man. He knew how much his validation affected his son, and he knowingly used that to his advantage.)
“Nephew, come here. Your turn.”
Draco gulped and stepped forward as Mattheo returned to the edge of the Malfoy family’s ballroom-turned-execution-theater. The two cousins traded a glance as they passed one another, both sharing the same thought.
They’d become child soldiers, plain and simple.
Death Eaters.
A pair of Nobodies, doomed to be Somebodies.
Their arms itched.
.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.
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heavenlyyshecomes · 5 months
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INTERVIEWER
That seems similar to the idea that the way that one language expresses an idea might never fully translate to another. What happens in that space you inhabit as a translator, between the original work and the translation?
CARSON
I think of it as a ditch, a ditch between two roads or countries. It’s always been interesting for me, the state of mind that the translator arrives at, where they have two languages simultaneously on their brain-screen. And they’re saying something not quite equivalent and they both keep on floating there. Some writers—Emily Dickinson would be the outstanding example—make use of that ditch within their own language. So she’s not translating from another language. She’s translating herself. She writes certain lines and words and then crosses them out and puts another word in, or writes the third word on the side, or turns the paper over and makes another version of the whole thing. And it all exists together as the poem. It’s just a really weird state of mind, to have all that floating, and have it be, have it constitute the poem in its entirety—in its untidy, unresolved entirety.
In translation, this arises in a different way, because you have a text, and it has perhaps certain obvious errors in it. And then you have variant readings at the bottom of the page, which are ideas that different scholars have had over the years to make a better reading where it seems wrong. So you get, again, these possibilities floating in your mind, for the same thing, but different. And they’re all kind of there together constituting the poem. I’ve never known what to do with that. It’s a beautiful event to have the poem in Greek with various readings in English underneath it, and to have all that floating as possibilities for what the guy really said.
I can’t communicate the beauty of that most of the time on a page in a book, or in something called “a translation of x.” There’s no format for that. You can do it sort of on a computer with links and whatnot, side text. But basically nobody wants to be bothered with reading all those links, and it doesn’t feel the same. As a scholar, when you’re looking at the page itself with the language and the variants, and it all floats in your mind, it’s just an extraordinary experience. Incommunicable, I think, in its finer aspects.
—“Throwing Yourself Into the Dark”: A Conversation with Anne Carson, in The Paris Review
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Magnolia - Chapter One
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Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Loneliness, Smut
A/N: More tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.
Minors, DNI.
Summary:
Let me be loved for something, she prays to whomever or whatever might be listening. Let my last feeling be the one I've wanted for so long... to be needed, to be useful, to be happy in knowing I was finally doing something worthwhile.
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Chapter Warnings: Attempted suicide, blood
Chapter One: Where Dreams Go to Die
The cold has never bothered her much. 
Beaches were never her thing. While the people around her often looked forward to summertime with the goal of lounging in the sand and soaking up the warmth of the sun, she only ever wanted to hide from it.
The sun is too bright, too warm, too all-knowing and all-revealing. 
She hates it.
She looks instead toward the colder seasons. Chilly nights, gray skies, short days. They somehow make her feel more alive than the long days full of sun and warmth.
Alive. She wants to chuckle at the thought. 
The sky is gray now. Time sits on that thin precipice between sunset and night. Dusk, she remembers - it’s called dusk. But here in the middle of the woods, under the thick canopy of trees surrounding her, the dusk feels closer to night. 
Her hands are visibly shaking as she looks down at what’s in them. For all that she has tried her best to talk herself into feeling numb about this, her nerves have still managed to betray her. Well, she thinks bitterly, the corners of her eyes burning with unwanted moisture, is it really an important moment if I don’t find some way to fuck it up?
She really would rather be numb. 
Heaving a sigh, she sits right where she is. The dead leaves on the ground crunch under her bottom, disturbing the peace of the otherwise quiet forest. “To be useful,” she murmurs, her eyes on the slivers of sky she can see between the trees. “Will you let me become a part of you?” She ignores the trembling in her voice. “Will you let me do something useful for once in my life?” 
Let me be loved for something, she prays to whomever or whatever might be listening. Let my last feeling be the one I’ve wanted for so long… to be needed, to be useful, to be happy in knowing I was finally doing something worthwhile. 
She looks down at her hands again. The tremors have stopped. Steadily she shifts the blade from one hand to the other, doing what she’s set out to do. She isn’t numb to the pain, but she is finally numb to the feeling. 
She lays back and smiles. 
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing eyes I wonder if it weighs like Mine Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long Or did it just begin I could not tell the Date of Mine It feels so old a pain… -Emily Dickinson, I Measure Every Grief I Meet
--
There’s something different about the woods tonight. 
It isn’t the sky. It sits above him the way it always does on early winter nights: dark and cold, the stars glittering yellow and white and reminding him of diamonds. 
It isn’t the trees. He has been here long enough to know nearly all of them, to become familiar with their rattles and creaks and groans. 
He can hear the sounds he’s used to: small animals rustling in the underbrush. The ones active during the day are settling down for the night, while the nocturnal ones are preparing to begin their day. 
Ah. There it is - he can smell it now. It’s something he hasn’t smelled in a while, and the realization of what it is surprises him. 
It is the scent of human blood. 
He finds the source of the smell deep in the forest, far from where any other humans typically dare to venture. There’s a woman there, lying face up on the ground, surrounded by cold, dead leaves. Her eyes are closed, and while a smile turns the corners of her mouth upward, it is the trail of tears on her face that his gaze is drawn to. 
She’s human, and she’s dying.
--
Geto Suguru has lived a very, very long time. He has spent much of that time around humans - close enough for him to learn nearly all there is to know about their nature. Close enough for him to become attuned to their thoughts and feelings, even if they keep those thoughts and feelings hidden. 
He kneels down to get a closer look at the woman lying there. She isn’t dead yet, but it won’t be long before she gets there. He can see the blood pooling around her wrists, staining the leaves beneath them a dark red that looks almost black. 
Her feelings are powerful enough that he doesn’t even have to concentrate to sense them all. There is pain there, and regret, and a lifetime of loneliness.
He knows that particular feeling well. 
“This wasn’t what you wanted,” he sighs softly, brushing a stray hair out of her face. “You did it because you felt like there was no other way, didn’t you?”
At the sound of his voice, she stirs weakly but doesn’t open her eyes. “It’s ok,” she says, her voice faint and weak. He wonders if she realizes he is real, or if she thinks she’s hallucinating in her last moments. “No one will miss me.”
“Somehow I doubt that’s true,” Geto murmurs. He lifts her left wrist to his mouth, gently stopping the flow of blood and lapping up the excess before doing the same to her right wrist. “If you still want to go through with this when you wake, I’ll help you do it,” he tells her as he lifts her easily in his arms. “But it won’t be painful like this. You won’t be alone, and I’ll make sure you don’t feel the regret and loneliness and sadness you feel now.”
He cradles her close, reassured by the rise and fall of her chest - proof that she is still breathing, still alive. 
“I promise.”
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Chapter Two: Coming Soon
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