#for a bit of context for anyone curious! he was allergic to a usually completely harmless fungus that started growing in his tank | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 6 years ago

Text

divination

PART 2: MY GIRL

PAIRING: charlie weasley x reader

summary: charlie has a crush on (name) and tries to act normal around her. surprise! it appears (name) has a crush on him, too also, requested by anons and @ghostwriter050402. a/n: this may or may not be a set up to another fic lol. ANYONE THAT WANTS TO BE TAGGED LEMME KNOOOO!!! ALSO! y’all are THIRSTY FOR CHARLIE!! TBH CAN’T BLAME YOU i love myself a man w a ponytail. i’ve gotten a lot of requests so i put them at the end of the fic as to not take up too much space :) what else what else...oh! thank you everyone for loving my fics! means the whole world to me, really. your comments make my day <3 THANK YOU TO MY BAE @slytherin-princess1 FOR THIS MOODBOARD! SUPPORT MY WIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xoxo

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST. ko-fi (i chug coffee as i write these fics, and another cup would make me happy <3)

Charlie Weasley never really had the chance to talk to you during your first three years at Hogwarts, and he blames it on Quidditch and his lack of suave charm for this ordeal. Bill always raved about how absolutely fantastic you are, what a smart witch, good friend, and a passionate person. He was not even sure how you looked until he saw his brother rush to a short Slytherin girl with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. He was about to take a sip of pumpkin-juice, though his hand, seeming to have a mind of its own, had halted near his lips and the liquid drizzled helplessly onto his shirt. He hardly even noticed the mess he was making, instead his attention now stuck onto you as his eyes trailed you and Khan wave bye to Bill and take a seat by your table. Bill, too chipper for such an early gloomy morning, sat down next to his brother idly chatting about this and that when—

“Charlie…” Bill started gently, “Are…Are you okay? What happened to your shirt?”

That is how it had all started. Rita Skeeter’s competition made you even more of a target for the public eye, and he suddenly started seeing you everywhere. Perhaps noticing you is the better term to describe it – you are not a ghost, nor have you deliberately taken routes where you knew he was loitering about. If you were missing your usual group of friends, which consisted of some of the brightest and most mischievous students of the time, you were sneaking around the castle looking like a suspicious girl trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Even before regarding you fully, not just in passing indifferent glances, he had heard of your mission, your brother, and the dangers and chaos that followed after you.

You are just…so cool, how could he not crush on you?

Andre is friends with everyone. He has connections and he knows how to use them, and he also happens to be Charlie’s best friend. Keeping crushes a secret from bothers is easy because they are mostly preoccupied with other things, and Bill is drowning in his Prefect duties as it is. But from best friends? It took exactly five minutes for Andre to notice the dreamy look in Charlie’s eye during dinner one night, and ten minutes to coarse it out of him. With his secret outed, Charlie had desperately shushed his friend when he giggled not so subtly, and only after Andre swore not to say a word about this to anyone did he ease up. After a bit of deliberation, Charlie then asked Andre for a bit of help. Nothing drastic, just something to get your attention, or at the very least inform you of his existence.

And Andre had helped him. In a conversation, which Charlie demanded be described in great detail, that Andre and you had had at Hogsmeade, Andre had named dropped Charlie, completely out of place and out of context. You must have either not noticed or not cared, because it sure as hell sounded weird and awkward.

But as fate has it, he is seated next to you in one of his least favourite lessons – Divination. Though, upon noting your tiny form plopped on a seat by his table, he soon came to change his mind.

The room is hazy and full of light pink and purple smoke, lavender incense, and crackling fire. It’s hot. Fumes stick to his skin, and he has to shake off his robe as in a last attempt to feel less warm. You have long lost yours. No windows are open. The Professor mumbles ghastly into her crystal, her soft whispers a mix of fright and awe. Students mumble quietly amongst themselves. No one dares to break the silence with a laugh, because they know that the professor will freak if they do. The crystal ball resting on his and yours table emits an alluring lilac hue.

The two of you had shared formalities and then fallen into silence, focusing on the task at hand – seeing the future. The Professor had promised that vision would come to all who gaze into the crystal’s depths. Charlie did not buy it for a single second, he even grinned dumbly, about to strike a conversation with you about what absolute bull this class is, only to find you greatly immersed and glaring at the crystal. It then dawned to him that you are, most likely, trying to see your brother in that small glass. That or you are greatly interested in checking out your reflection.

“Is it working for you?” You inquire, your eyes finally lifting from the crystal to him. He shrugs, rolling up his sleeves.

“The only thing I see is me sweating.” He comments dryly. You grin.

“I suppose it is a bit silly,” You agree, “I was hoping to at least get a snippet. The Professor was really into it. Thought I give it a genuine go before wanting to throw it out the window.” Your voice turns bitter, “I think my face is going to melt off.” You mumble, pressing your palms onto your red cheeks. “Do you think we could sneak out of here?”

He chokes on fumes, they burning his throat. We. Plural. Should he be excited, or are you simply nice enough to want to break him out this horrible class and send him on his merry way? After a few contained coughs, and you giving him a sympathetic look, he nods, “I think if someone came close to death or caused a diversion, we could book it.”

“What if I pretended to faint?” Your voice tints with glee, which is a bit morbid but he doesn’t mind. Your eyes twinkle mischievously in the lilac glow, “You could call the Professor and then carry me to the infirmary or something.”

Carry me. He chokes again. Your hands lands on his upper arm, soothing gently, your voice now laced with concern, “Are you alright, Charlie?”

He nods dumbly, “I think I’m allergic to this smoke.”

“Well, if you faint first I will try my hardest to carry you.” You say with a smile. He grins.

“Yea, good luck with that.”

“I know a few handy charms.”

“Use ‘em often?”

“Only when desperate times call for desperate measures.” You look him in the eye, “You ready?”

“Try not to hit your head on your way down.”

“I am hardly that reckless.” You state and he stares at you expectantly, “Yea, alright, I get it, I’ll be careful.”

Just as you are about to start your act, his eyes catch the strange mirage in the crystal. Curious, he peers into it, and his heart skips a beat – in the haziness he manages to recognise his figure and yours, but it is dark and blurry and hard to understand but he thinks that you and he are in a chamber of some sort. He blinks stupidly, alert and uneasy, about to call your name but once he looks up he sees you lifeless leaning off your chair before you fall and knock the crystal off of the table.

The whole class hears you slump - it is more the clatter the ball makes as it rolls off of the table and onto marble ground – and a series of gasps along with the Professors confused “What happened?” echo in the hot classroom. Charlie is quick to your aid, jumping from his chair and circling around to lift you, “I think she fainted, Professor.” He explains, worried. Soon he has you in his arms. He notes you trying your hardest not to grin, and he has to fight off a smile too. With you safely in his grasp - honestly, light as a feather – he turns to the Professor, “I will take her to the infirmary.”

“Yes, please do…But be back quick!

Yeah, that’s a no, the two of you share the same line of thought. You and Charlie are only coming back long after class is over, and only to get your stuff back.

After a successful mission the two of you were free for the period. He was a tad disturbed of how good you were at this acting thing, but the adrenaline over being your partner-in-crime had taken hold of him and he could do nothing but smile dumbly at every word you said. The two of you lazily spent the period, lounging in the cooler part of the castle and letting exhaustion take hold of you. The air was fresh and crispy and the ground radiated with cold. The two of you had plenty of time to relax, and once conversation was done with, pleasant silence settled. Which got him thinking back to before you gracefully knocked the crystal ball over with your award winning act. About the two of you, venturing alone, in what he presumes is a dangerous and deadly place. Was that a Cursed Vault? Or perhaps a doorway to it, a room that holds a clue to where it might be. You had taken Bill on an adventure…

Will you be taking him, now?

His eyes then found your form, slumped in one of the beanbags, dozing off. A pang of worry had tugged on his heartstring. You must be so tired, he realised, sleepless. He can only imagine what kinds of nightmares you have about your brother. How painful it must be not knowing where he is. He shuddered at the thought of harm coming to one of his siblings. He would be devastated, a complete mess.

For the rest of the period he thought about you, Jacob, and the Cursed Vaults. His resolve to help you all but became stronger.

The meetups between you two were more frequent. He still mostly conversed with you during Care of Magical Creatures, since it was one of the few classes the two of you had together, but now Divination, instead of being the typical annoying class it used to be, was a thoroughly enjoyed joke fest. Your hello’s, ones that, at the very beginning, were bright and energetic, gradually came to be breathless whispers of ‘…Hi’ accompanied by a lovely smile as you met him in a hall or elsewhere.

He fit in perfectly in your group of misfits. And after nearly half a year of growing closer, it was finally time to explore the Cursed Vault hidden somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. The only problem was locating it, but thankfully, Tulip had snooped around and found a chamber that might contain a map. Bill was supposed to accompany you. That idea did not sit well with Charlie. So after thinking it over, the same night his older brother was supposed to meet you in the dungeons, he had caught him in the Common Room.

It was a clear night, starry. It was four in the morning and only ashes left in the fireplace. The Common Room was void of life, just books scattered, pillows lying on the floor, and blankets messily thrown to the side – they were remnants of activity. Charlie called his brother in a raspy, sleep ridden voice, and Bill had nearly jumped out of his skin, already near the portrait.

“Can I go, instead?” Charlie asked. Bill had frowned, about to question why on earth he would want to, but Charlie quickly interjected, “Please.” He mumbled, “You already went with her…Can you just…give me a chance?”

Surprised and a bit reluctant, Bill had agreed.

That’s how it had happened. Of course, when you had gasped seeing Charlie loitering about the dungeons and not Bill, he had explained to you that “Bill’s busy. Completely forgot about the essay he put away for the last day. Woke me up ten minutes ago, to be honest.”

The dungeons are damp, cold, and quiet. Your footsteps echo off of the walls and short ceiling, almost creating vertigo. It’s dark. No light, just a dim glow of the glossy walls. He can’t make out your face, just your silhouette, and even then only after a while of walking in complete darkness. It is a bit eerie. You can’t afford to shine Lumos – that might give you away. If Snape is even anywhere near these parts, he would surely notice the odd change in lighting.

He grows unease by the minute. You are uncharacteristically quiet. Granted, you might just be scared to speak in case of a spy lurking about, but still, not even a comment? Joke? Inquiry? Completely unlike you, and he knows you well enough by now that you are a chatter box that will argue her way into her grave so having you not whispering or giggling is highly disturbing. He figures you are scared. That’s fine’. He is, too.

“Don’t worry.” His voice never grows higher the sound of your soft footsteps, as his hand, clumsily grasps yours in the dark, “I’m here.”

Your fingers intertwine with his firmly, and he feels warmth spread through his whole body, “You were so silent that I forgot.” You murmur. He practically hears you smiling.

The walk to the secret chamber grows ridiculously short. He feels as if he had just gotten used to feeling your small hand in his when, inevitably, he had to let you go. The passage way had opened with a charm that fell from your lips and a spark from your wand. Once the two of you entered, it closed shut behind you, solid as stone and as if never there to begin with.

The room is airy and cool; a familiar lilac glow illuminates the scarce décor and he has to shut his eyes hurriedly as they sting from the sudden change in lighting, Once he adjusts, he is alert and ready to assist you. He finds you immersed in some letters found in a nearby bin.

“This…” You start, eyeing the papers warily, “Might take a while.”

Charlie shrugs with a sympathetic smile, “I’ve got time.” He assures you.

“Up for some light reading?”

“Define light.”

“Thousands of pages.”

“…Can I skim?”

“If you find the map or at least an allusion to it, you can eat these papers for all I care.”

“Don’t say that to Barnaby. He might be tempted.”

He felt emotionally and physically beaten after thirty minutes or so. The letters you had given him were mostly about books and taxes and other boring things alike, and before long he had sat down onto the ground. There are no seats here, after all, and the floor is hardly the most comfortable, but it beats standing. What is more, he is tired, and sleepy, and if it was not for the pinching cold he is reminded of each time he exhales a puff of smoke, he would surely be snoring.

He notes you squirm after a while. You had been sitting next to him, then away, and then close by again, lastly you had laid down, but even then your attempts were futile. It was painful watching you. So ridden with stress, sleep deprivation, and his feelings for you, he had, without even contemplating, suggested that—

“You can sit in my lap.” That promptly woke him up; choked up, he added, “I already carried you…so…it’s like that. Just…I’m sitting. And it’s cold. I could start a fire, though.” He suggests awkwardly, a bright red blush blooming on his freckled cheeks. You simply stare at him, void of words, the letters between your fingers long forgotten. After a pause, he notes you blush like a rose and nod shakily. You pick yourself off of the ground – and the letters that spill from your grasp – and make your way to him. He watches you approach with a racing heart. Merlin, why can’t he be cool and collected like Bill is?!

Your body is like a furnace, heating his frosted fingers and making him smile shyly into your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist and your back hits his chest. You hurriedly pull the parchment to hide your face, and he wonders can you even read anything from so close. He catches a whiff of your perfume and his heart skips a beat. Really, this was not a good idea. How will he focus now?!

“…Hey…Charlie?” You squeak. He clears his throat.

“Yes, (Name)?”

“You know… The Yule Ball is coming up, and I…wasn’t planning on going, but...” You tilt your head to get a look at him; once your eye meets his, your lips quirk upwards into a lovely smile, “If…you wanted to go…”

“I best get my suit ready, then.” He grins at you, squeezing you closer. With a pleased smile you turn back to the letters, “But…shouldn’t I be the one to ask you?”

“Were you going to?”

“Well…no—“

“My point exactly.”

BONUS:

The windows are dotted with snowflakes; outside a storm rages over the castle, icy wind howling. A glimpse of it can be caught once doors open. It is usually Hagrid carrying Christmas decorations, or an occasional pine tree. Festive music echoes in the halls. The students whisper amongst themselves what they will do on holiday, who they will invite to the dance. The atmosphere is sweet and gleeful. Couples in love use the odd mistletoe to smooch and be screamed at by Prefects and teachers alike.

It’s late in the evening and you had just picked up some Potions books from the Library once you ran into Bill. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he was waiting for you to emerge. You greet him with a smile as you pull the heavy tombs closer to your chest. He returns the grin with a nervous twitch, and falls into step with you. The two of you chat the whole way to the staircase leading to the dungeons, where you stop to give him a quick hug. Once you turn to leave he calls after you, breathless, a question leaving his lips.

“Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

You freeze in place. Gulping, a tad saddened to be the bearer of bad news, you look at him helplessly, offering an apologetic smile, “Oh, I’m sorry, Bill…But…Someone already asked me…” You admit, “And I said yes.”

His face crumbles a bit, but he soon glosses over the obvious hurt of rejection with a cheery, “Oh! Well, save me a dance, then. Catch you later?”

“I’m sorry, Bill—“

But he’s already on his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

requests: can you do a cute lil charlie weasley x mc?? it can be about anything tbh,, i just love him so much and i adore your writing!!! / Your “won’t he?” gave me soooo many feelings! In the part 1 I saw you hint (sort of) a Charlie/Reader. I love Charlie since forever, so could you write a OS with him, pretty please? / HEY ITS ME THE CHARLIE/MC ANON IVE HEAD REQUESTS ARE OPEN gfgfhg so if its really ok to request what about charlie with the biggest crush on mc ( a slytherin girl like in won't he? ) and just. he is such a dork. idek what to write im too excited just plz gimme lovesick charlie fghgh / OMGGGG YOUR HOWARTS MYSTERY FANFICS ARE SO GOOD ITS JUST..AHH! SO SO CUTE! BUT broke my heart with bill, i do love felix ❤❤❤ but what if you try write a what if bill did tell her how he felt?? or more a one shot where charlie finally got the guts to talk and spend time with mc??? its all so good i cant wait for more! / Heyyy can you write a Charlie Weasley from hogwarts mystery please? / can we please get some charlie weasley fics going ? or one shots ? 😩 hphm charlie has me head over heels 😭

forever tags: @scarletraine- @brahwhytho- @smilesfromabove- @pharaohkiller - @victoriaelvendorkweasley-@onehellofdevilotaku- @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- @phillipas00- @xxcrowfeatherxx- @cupcakestyleshood- @invisibilityrocks- @nephalem67 - @chwechwechwe - @porpentyna - @lesbianheartbreaker - @banjosanjo - @madswheelers - @sombodymaybeawatson - @disneyfanatic77 - @superanonymousreader - @aliypop - @slytherinyour-chambers - @onehellofdevilotaku - @victoriaelvendorkweasley - @pharaohkiller - @smilesfromabove - @brahwhytho - @scarletraine

1K notes · View notes

kessielrg · 4 years ago

Text

Major Mathias

Summary: In which the fictional hero Major Mathias finds himself in the real world, seeking the help of the young journalist Philomena Nikoya. It goes over as well as you’d expect it to. [oneshot]

Rating: T (for a lot of cursing)

Word count: 2,020 words

. . .

Major Mathias was a comic book hero that everyone adored back in middle school. I didn't really keep up with the series, but learned about most of it from some of my friends. In it, the series detailed Major Mathias, a hero the likes of Superman; a jack of all trades with very little, if any, weaknesses. The fanbase was split between the boys and girls; the boys enjoyed the masculinity, the girls more so- but for a different reason, if you catch my drift.

In every issue, Major Mathias would battle his ultimate enemy -the grotesque looking Calamity Carlisle- and peace would reign again for another issue. It was a really predictable formula the more you thought about it. The formula for each comic book issue was the reason why I eventually lost interest in the series. I made fun of my friends for actually being surprised for the twist that C.C. had been disguised as a friendly character in a bid to trick Mathias. Like, no, you obviously knew that idiot was not who he said the moment he glared at the hero a funny way. It was, like, a calling card or something.

I completely fell out of the series once we got to high school. I still had a few close friends that were interested in the series, but they knew better than to tell me what was happening. It worked out pretty well, actually. For the bulk of high school I never heard a word about Major Mathias and it was an absolute dream.

But then something happened.

In an issue published on June twentieth 2016, Major Mathias went missing. And, apparently, not even the writer knew where he had gone. It was just like Mathias had just up and disappeared from the series without any input from the writer at all. Now, I'm not talking about that old 'my character made me do this while I was writing' trope that writers talk about; according to the main writer, Major Mathias was actually gone from something they had already written. Any reference to Mathias was replaced with empty space and an occasional threat from Calamity Carlisle. There were photos uploaded to the publisher's Twitter and Facebook feeds that gave before and after comparisons.

A lot of these looked like a really poor Photoshop edit.

While my friends all freaked out about this mystery, I laughed it off as an elaborate ARG the publisher was doing to drum up hype for some new storyline or another. At that point, Major Mathias was a dying series anyway. Writers switched hands every other week; there were even rumors that some artists didn't even make it to the end of the issue. They always felt 'too sick' or 'felt like they were being watched' while they worked in their private homes. It was always some excuse after another- but the publishers would just refuse to let the dumb series die and have at it.

Now with Major Mathias 'mysteriously' disappearing from his own series, it looked like the perfect time to finally pull the plug. It was a brilliant excuse, honestly, and one that I admired in a 'fuck you' kinda way. Why give your series a proper end when you can just make your hero go away?

I'm sure you're sick of hearing about Major Mathias by now. What else more could I say about a comic book hero I lost interest in? I bet you're curious about who I am, and why I'm telling this story. Or not. Maybe you liked Major Mathias or something, good on you. But I want to be narcissistic now and you're going to like it.

My name is Philomena Jasper Nikoya. You can call me Fili if you'd like, it's usually easier to remember for most people. If you haven't noticed, I like writing- at the same time, I completely despise it. You can thank the dumb plots of Major Mathias for that; I used to write a lot of fix-it fanfictions back in middle school. Most of them involved Calamity Carlisle to actually win for once. Others involved Major Mathias actually recognizing that paper thin disguise because, my god, how dumb do you have to be to keep falling for that?

When I got to high school, I started doing some work for the school newspaper. At first, I was doing main articles with the help of a small team. It took me a whole year to convince the vice principal to let me do a column all on my own. You're looking at the proud writer of 'Superhero Nonsense', a very popular column in the school paper detailing superhero tropes and cliches with a mildly sarcastic narration. Our English teacher occasionally cites it when going over literary devices to help advance or enhance the plot- you could say that it's my crowning glory.

You can absolutely bet that I made a ton of riffs on Major Mathias. My friends gave me enough context to still harass the series even though I no longer read it.

I really annoyed them.

A lot.

I usually work on my column on the weekends at a local comic book shop. It's a real cozy place, kinda like those cat cafes I hear are all the rage in Japan. Except for the stunning lack of cats. Which is good- I'm allergic. Any way, our local comic book shop has a pretty good range of books; from the classics, to visual novels, and even official art books in every shape, size, and fandom. Located in the back corner is a pop-up cafe of sorts that offers simple coffee brews and light snacks- like cookies and donuts. Along that wall is a bunch of seating for us loafers.

My favorite place is a small recliner near the window. The recliner itself isn't much to write home about, but out that particular window you could see the busy street outside. It was nice sitting there, spacing out occasionally to watch the other people go by, as I worked on my column. If I had to pick a happy place, I think it would be there.

That is, until he showed up.

“FiliJazzPhone99?”

“Huh?” I wondered in a far off voice. I had been in the middle of an incredibly awesome writing groove and didn't feel the need to look up. When I finally did, I was looking up at a rather handsome looking young man. We're talking the whole nine yards, guys; a strong jawline, chocolate brown eyes that you could have melted to, and beautifully tanned skin that I couldn't quite place the ethnicity of. Not that I really knew what color I was on a normal day; but know this, it was not saltine cracker white.

“FiliJazzPhone99.” the guy repeated. “Fili. That's you, isn't it?”

As cute as I found this stranger so far, he was starting to creep me out. I started to carefully close the lid on my laptop as I looked him over. He was wearing the uniform the comic book shop employees wore when they were on the clock. So he worked here? Must have been new, because I knew practically everyone at this place.

“Even if I was,” I told him, humoring him for the moment, “Who wants to know?”

The stranger puffed his chest up, placed his hands on his hips, and grinned at me with a wide, cheesy smile. “Major Mathias, ma'am!” He relaxed his position a bit before going on. “And I really need your help Fili. Calamity Carlisle somehow forced me out of my series and into your world. They want to reboot my series from the ground up, and they want to do it without me! I need your help to get back to my world before their plans can come to fruition!”

For a moment, I just stared at him. This dude couldn't be serious. Sure, on second glance, he kinda did look like the hero. But a lot of normal people had really uncanny resemblances to fictional characters every now and again- the internet (and very dedicated cosplayers) was a testament to that.

I must have been taking far too long to respond because this not-Mathias made a stupid whining sound before forcing me to my feet.

“What do I need to do to make you believe me?” he asked. “I still have my powers- I can do anything you want!”

With a grimace, I forced myself out of his grasp. “First of all, you don't touch me.” I spat. “That would be a nice start.”

Not-Mathias recoiled a little. “Sorry...” he mumbled. “I just… You're the only one that can help me, and I just need a way for you to...”

Suddenly, a thought came to his mind; his eyes shot with a determination that almost intimated me. In a firm, certain voice, he said, “Archive of Our Own user, FiliJazzPhone99. Writer of 15 works. 2 for DC Superhero Girls, 2 for The Longest Journey, 1 for Dragon Age, and 10,” (he puffed up his chest in pride here) “For Major Mathias.”

I wish I could have seen the look on my face. I must have looked like I wanted to strangle him, or call the cops. Maybe both. I could feel my face boil over in white hot anger though. No force on earth could have stopped the profanity that came out of my mouth next.

“MY SHIT BIO ISN'T A DATING PROFILE YOU CREEP!” I screeched. “Just WHO the FUCK are you?!”

“I keep telling you! I am Major Mathias, and I really need your help Fili. Please!”

“You have a really shitty way of trying to convince me that you're real!”

“I know!” he shot back. For a moment, I thought I saw his eyes glisten over with tears. “You have no idea how confusing it is to be here! I have no idea how to get back, but you're the only one I know that can help! I could go to my publishers, or my writer, or… or anyone else but you if I could! Fili, I...”

Not-Mathias made a movement that he was going to take my hands again, but in remembering that I didn't like the last touch, he didn't do so.

“Who's going to believe me?” he asked, the desperation well laced into his voice. After a pause, he added in a small tone, “Who's going to believe you?”

I recoiled. Was it that obvious that I was ready to turn this guy over to the next looney ward the moment I was able to get my phone?

“Even if I did believe you,” I challenged, defiantly folding my arms, “Why me?”

“I've read your fanfictions.” he said, as if it were the most casual subject in the world. “I could see potential. I could see that you have a broader imagination that what you let on. You know what you're writing and you do so with excellent precision.”

I held my arms tighter against my chest. “There were better fanfictions than mine.” I heard myself grumble.

Not-Mathias let out a rather impatient sigh. “You're right.” he agreed. “But yours was the one I liked the most.”

“How flattering.”

“So you'll help?”

“Absolutely not.”

Not-Mathias gave another impatient whine before noticing the time. “I gotta get back to work.” he mumbled, more to himself than to me. He turned his direction to me before saying, “Please Fili. If you even remotely believe me, can you come back around 7? I should be getting off work around then.”

“And if I don't?”

I didn't get an answer. Instead, the young man deflated a little before starting to walk away. I watched him leave with a neat raise of my eyebrow. He had a very cute butt, for someone just two eggs shy of a dozen.

“God damn it.” I mumbled to myself before reaching into my backpack for my phone. I needed to tell my parents that I was going to be late for dinner tonight. Turns out, I was just as stupid as he was.

#original story #short story #oneshot #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #original character #superhero #female protagonist #experimental fic #experimental #experiment #stream of thought #first person #first person view

1 note · View note