Tumgik
#i reread the letter you wrote a while back that i never responded to. i imagine this is a few letters later. just checking in :')
accultant · 27 days
Note
Send me ☺ for a loving/affectionate text
Send me ☺ for a loving/affectionate text letter
Dandelion,
The drawings in your last letter are delightful. I hope you don't mind or get too bashful when I say I've put it up on my wall. Actually, I've got three of your letters tacked up now. I much prefer this artistic endeavor to the taxidermy. The dozen cats you drew in your very first letter are still my favorite - they sit above my workbench, where I find myself a lot of the time. I've gotten new hobbies, too. I find curses just fascinating. They're like puzzles, finding out how they work and how to break them. You know I love puzzles. Anyway, your cats - I, unfortunately, have not adopted eleven more cats after Steelclaw (yes, she is still alive, you'll be distraught to find), but I suppose I have become quite acquainted with the neighborhood strays. [A drawing of six cats, with arrows pointing to their corresponding names. Radish. Spike. Michaela. Cat. Gretel. Big Man.] Don't worry. I'm not telling you what neighborhood. Just the general neighborhood that I may or may not live in. I understand the secrecy. I'm pretty good at secrecy, you know. <- Still too soon? Sorry.
Our time apart is still hard, I miss you very much, but I do understand. It's getting easier. I think I'm getting a hang of this 'having a life' thing. Every day is a coin toss, but I do think I've been happier, more comfortable, generally. It's nice. I hope you're finding you can say the the same about your own life. You're having quite an adventure, it seems. Saving the world wasn't enough? Well, good! Keep exploring! Keep making marks of your own! Even if those marks are being banned from, what, eight cities now? You're living, that's wonderful! Go! Find more beautiful things! You always have been good at finding beauty around you. I'm so glad you're getting to see more of this world you've saved. It loves you, you know. But do still get your rest.
Wyll just passed me, he says "Hello, Puck."
I don't have much else to say this time around, I just wanted to write and say hello, I miss you, I love you, I'm happy you're happy, etc. etc. Is it getting old? Too bad. [A drawing of a cat teasingly sticking out it's tongue goes here. Next to it is a dog with a kissie mark on his head.] Will you tell Astarion I said hello? And give him this: [Tacked here is a small scrap of paper that has a little drawing of a sun on it, with a bat lounging with a sunhat and drinking a blood cocktail. It's been enchanted with glowing ink to shimmer like sunlight.] I know he's quite a creature of the night, but I do miss our sunbathing together. I hope he's doing well. I'm so glad you have each other. You don't have to tell him all that. It's embarrassing. Just give him the paper. Maybe just leave all this out, actually, only you get to see what a sap I've become.
Someone just walked into the shop. Oh, good, it looks like they've brought a Ouija board. That's the third one this week. They're watching me write this, I should probably get to work. It is a little funny how they're shuffling their feet, though. They keep eyeing the bell on the counter, they're probably debating if they need to ring it or not. Haha. Okay, fine, I'll wrap this up -
As always, I love you, I miss you, I am proud of you.
Your sibling who loves you, misses you, and is proud of you,
Ia
4 notes · View notes
paper-crab · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before
summary: letters to your past crushes get out and its a whole mess, based on the movie/book, yadayada
warnings: swearing, cliché, very rushed
wc: 6914
ignore any grammar mistakes it’s too long for me to reread and if it doesn’t flow smoothly i’m so sorry i rushed it so bad
Writing letters was an emotional release; something healthy to pass the time, and look back on later.
That’s why you’d written a series of letters, spanning from 3rd grade to now- senior year. They were intimate letters, ones you wrote to get your mind off of a crush you’d gained, so when you’d looked for the box to add a new letter and couldn’t find it, you freaked out.
Luckily, younger you was only able to get her hands on two addresses.
Unfortunately, those addresses were the two worst ones you could have gotten. Everybody else had either moved, or come out. They were irrelevant.
Who had gotten the letters, however, were not irrelevant: your school's player, and your best friend's boyfriend. You were fully in panic mode now, how are you supposed to recover from that? You can only contemplate your options for so long before anxiety eats at you. Maybe if you skipped a week or so of school it would blow over.
“Yeah, not happening. Rise and shine.”
You groan. “Dad, you don’t understand. This could ruin my life, I might actually die.”
He doesn’t respond, leaving you to grovel and pick up the pieces of your pride.
In order to avoid your friend's boyfriend, you need to avoid her, which means you’re walking around school alone. You know you’ll need to have that awkward conversation, telling him ‘I liked you when you were just my childhood best friend- those feelings have passed’, but you also know that you are going to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. Asserting yourself was never really your strong suit.
You had grown up next door to her boyfriend, and fell out of touch with him in middle school. While he was blossoming as a social butterfly, you lurked in the background, like a moth drawn to his effervescent light. Like the sun, the light was too hot for you to stay in, and you stopped talking until mid junior year when your friend had reintroduced you.
The other letter, the heartthrob, had been a lot kinder in middle school. You’d heard some not-so-kind stories about him recently though, and they were the exact opposite of the kid, Matt, that you knew.
You hadn’t been particularly close or anything, only exchanging a few words in your 7th grade math class, but you were infatuated with him. When you were younger, he hardly talked, but lacrosse had brought him out of his shell; the shell you’d never managed to crack- or rather the cocoon you’d never emerged from.
Matt probably didn’t know your name, even though you’d boldly signed it in your letter, so you were confident he wouldn’t find you. It’d be just another day for him, hopefully.
Your friend's boyfriend, on the other hand, was constantly with you. He lived right next door to you, and you felt like it was impossible to avoid him. You’d try to get through the school day without an encounter, then lock yourself in your room to never be seen again.
The first couple periods you had? Had gone off without a hitch. Then you hit lunch, and even if you tried, you couldn’t run from your friend forever. She found you, her boyfriend trailing behind.
“I missed you this morning!” She tells you, reaching to give you a hug. You don’t do much but nervously laugh, pulling away from her. “Yeah, I came late.” You lied.
“Ugh I wish, I’m going to get lunch, you coming with?” She says, more to her boyfriend than you. He shakes his head, “I’m good.”
“Alright, be back in a minute!”
“Can we ta-”
You cut him off immediately, nervous laughter coming back. “I have a test to study for, so I’m going to the library, sorry. We’ll catch up later. He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it himself.
After excusing yourself, you make a beeline for the library, seeking a moment of respite. The library turns out not to offer that much solace either, because you see Matt’s two brothers enter, meaning he can’t be far behind. When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on you, lighting up slightly. You see him excuse himself from his brothers, and you immediately stand and run out of there, muttering “Nope, no, no,” under your breath. The sound of you slamming the library door open definitely isn’t quiet.
You can’t help but begin to panic, packing up your things and abruptly running out of the school, through the parking lot, and jumping into your car. If studying wasn’t how you were going to escape the situation, avoiding lunch apparently was. It’s tempting, incredibly so, to skip the rest of your day, but you know you’d be in so much trouble. You can’t handle that right now.
You head back in and continue your day, just praying, wishing, dreaming that you won’t encounter the two people you don’t want to see most- but now you’re seeing them out of the corner of your eye in every passing period; and you can’t even confide in the one person you most want to.
The school day ending feels like your saving grace. You’re exhausted, mentally and physically, from running away from your friend and her boyfriend, and narrowly avoiding Matt didn’t help.
You walk out of the school, into the parking lot towards the direction of your car, ready to be done with the day.
In highschool, you’re never done.
Your friend's boyfriend is leaning against your car, looking around for you, arms crossed. You make a sharp left, in the direction of the lacrosse field and bleachers. You’re not really thinking about it when you do it, it’s just the closest shelter, other than walking back in the hellhole that is the school.
You make your way onto the bleachers mindlessly, trying not to think about the events of today. You set your backpack next to you, not realizing there’s an unexpected guest making his way up to the top of the bleachers where you sat.
“Hi.” You jump, startled by the sudden voice as he sits next to you. You recognize that voice, obviously, so you flinch before turning to him. “Y/n, right?”
You nod, not sure how to continue this. There’s a plethora of things he could say, and you’d rather not hear any of them. Matt taps his fingers on the bleachers, waiting for you to acknowledge that he’s said anything; when you realize you nod.
“Look,” he starts, and that’s never a good sign, “Your letter was really kind and whatever, but I just broke up with my girlfriend. I’m not really ready for anything serious, so if you’re looking for casual-”
“I wrote that in 7th grade.”
“Oh.” He says, scratching his head. “Why’d you send the letter then?” You look to your left, spotting your friend's boyfriend walking towards you, and you panic.
“Kiss me,”
“Okay.” He shrugs, grabbing you. His eyes are closed, but you don’t bother closing yours. You’re a bit busy glancing in the direction of your other victim, and when you watch his face fall as he turns back around, you finally close your eyes. “Not that I’m mad about it, but what just happened?”
“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re not the only one that got a letter. The other person is my best friends boyfriend,”
“Damn. That’s low of you, and I’m not special? My feelings are hurt.” He smiles a little bit, trying to ease your tense expression. “I wrote his before I ever wrote yours, and before they knew each other. I can’t talk to him, though, and if she ever finds out, it'll break her heart.”
“Okay, respect. I gotta get to practice, but I’ll find you tomorrow?”
You want to say no, but you don’t. He did just do you a big favor after all. “Yeah, see you then.”
-
He sticks to his words, finding you in the library the next day. His mouth twists into a grin when he sees you, and he shuffles over holding eye contact with you.
“Hey,” He says, slightly whispering. It might be lunch, but the librarian is still strict. She wants to preserve the quiet atmosphere of the room, in which you can only hear the sound of flipping pages and an occasional murmur. “Mind if I join?” He settles in next to you.
“Uhm.. listen,” You say, launching into a monologue, “about the whole letter thing, It’s, uh, not what it seems. Well it is, but it’s not. I wrote those letters a long time ago, and they don’t reflect my feelings now, and I never meant for them to get out, so, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into it, and I’m sorry you did, get dragged into it, that is.”
“If you didn’t mean for them to get out, why would you send them?” He questions, tilting his head.
“I didn’t send them.”
“Okay, uhm, who did?”
“I don’t know, but I cannot talk to my friend's boyfriend, like ever.”
He nods, a mixture of concern and confusion evident on his face, like he’s really mulling the situation over.
“So, someone sent those letters behind your back? That’s not cool, dude. Messed up, but I think we can help each other out here, take control of the situation.” A wicked grin takes over his face. If you squint hard enough you can imagine a lightbulb over his head, like he’s had an “aha!” moment. “I have an idea,”
“What do you mean, control?”
“Yeah, control. Think about it, we fake date. You need your friend’s boyfriend off your back, and I need my ex to get jealous and come back to me. Win win, and it gives us a chance to control the narrative.”
“Yeah, I mean… it could work, maybe?” You respond, uncertainty in your tone. “How would it even work?
“I don’t see how it couldn’t.”
“Okay, I guess, but I don’t see how it could be that simple.”
“Yeah, it could. Trust me, we play it smart, manipulate the situation, and we get what we want.”
“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”
“You sure about this?” Matt asks, searching your eyes for confirmation.
“Yeah, I mean, you said it best. I can’t talk to him about this, not for a long while, anyways.”
“Sick.”
“So, uhm, what next?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, rules and stuff?”
“You want rules, you make ‘em’” He shrugs. You grab out a notebook, labeling the top ‘Rules’ in neat handwriting. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“No kissing,” you start writing, and Matt groans.
“If we’re not kissing, how do you expect anyone to believe we’re dating?” You squirm a little bit.
“Matt,” you say in a hushed tone. Heat rises to your cheeks. “I don’t really kiss people,”
“Wait,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke, “was I your first kiss?”
When you don’t answer, he gasps. It almost makes him feel bad, but not enough to apologize. “No kissing then,” he confirms, trying to steer the conversation forward. “What else?”
“No couple-y social media shit,”
“Agreed. We keep it low-key.” He nods. “What about spending time together? How often do we go on dates, and are we hanging out all the time?”
“I don’t know, maybe like, once a week? And I don’t wanna be around your friends all the time.”
“You don’t want to be around yours either,” he points out.
“Fair point. Once a week, I hang out with you?”
“Most days, yeah.”
“Also, no meeting the parents. That makes it too real.” You add.
“Off the table. Oh, I’m not calling you babe or any of that gross shit.” He says. You pale at the thought, literally gagging. “Please don’t, I think I’d throw up.”
“That it?” He laughs at you.
“Uh, yeah, I think so.”
The bell rings. “I’ll walk you to class,”
Your face morphs into confusion. “Why would you do that?”
“To make it seem like we’re really dating..?”
“Oh. Yeah,”
He walks you to class, hugging you when he drops you off. “Meet by the bleachers after school?”
“Yeah,” You say, slightly dazed by his request.
When you walk out of your classroom, you let your mind wander back to his ask, ‘what could he possibly want’ playing through your head. You walk through the front doors, taking a sharp left towards the bleachers; just like yesterday.
You’re not waiting for very long when Matt sneaks up on you, whispering “Boo.” into your ear.
You jump, caught off guard, but that’s besides the point.
“Hey,” he says, putting his hands on your waist.
“What are you doing?”
“People are looking.” He shrugs a little. You’re eager for him to get to the point; the longer you’re away from your bed, the more cozy and inviting it sounds. He clears his throat. “I need your number,”
He’s careful to make it come out as a whisper so surrounding students don’t hear. To them, you’re already a couple.
“And your address, so I can pick you up tomorrow.”
“What?”
“As your boyfriend, I’ll be driving you to school, and home, and I need to pick you up for our date too.”
“Date tomorrow?”
“If you’re free, for the ‘spending time together’ bit,” he says, pulling his hands from your waist and doing air quotes with his fingers.
“I can drive myself,” You tell him, as he grabs his phone out and hands it to you sneakily. You proceed to put your number in, and your address, before handing it back to you.
“You can, but it’s more convincing if we come together.” He murmurs, absorbed in drafting you a message. After a moment, you hear the familiar ping of a notification.
“There,” he grins proudly, showing you the message. “Now it’s official.”
-
The morning sun casts a warm glow on you, making you feel cozy and relaxed, despite the nerves growing. The idea of Matt, and his brothers, coming to pick you up scares you a bit. You fiddle with the strap of your backpack as you wait on your front porch.
When you see a car pull up, you know that’s your cue to start walking down your driveway. Matt hops out, rushing to hug you and open the passenger door for you.
“Doesn’t Chris usually sit there?” You ask quietly, still smiling to keep up the charade. “Yeah, I made him move.” He whispers back before he walks to the driver's seat.
“Good morning,” Nick says, sounding completely done. Chris doesn’t even raise his head, giving you a small wave. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb them. You think them going out of their way to pick you up this morning was disturbing enough.
The car ride was a mixture of awkward silence and small talk. Nick and Chris are both too tired to engage much, but Matt is trying his hardest to keep them involved.
You pull up to the school gates after a short while, Matt parks the car. You get out and he walks over to you, joining your hands while you walk in. He gives you a reassuring smile as you walk in, “Don’t worry, they’re not always like this in the morning. I promise it’s not personal.”
You nod, trying your best to offer a smile that comes out faint. “Yeah, I won’t take it personally. Thanks again for the ride, Matt.”
“Of course,”
The second you get into the school, Nick and Chris part ways with you two. You’re still holding hands, you realize, when the murmurs and glances direct themselves towards you. Matt can feel the anxious energy you radiate because of it, so he leans in to whisper in your ear, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Don’t worry, it’ll blow over soon.”
For all the stories you’d heard about him, you hadn’t expected him to be even half as polite. Maybe it’s because you were faking, you decide.
The rest of the day seems to float by in a blur, but Matt was right; the buzz around your relationship did seem to dissipate the more people saw you together. During lunch, you find yourself next to Matt. You’re doing your best to maintain the facade with his lacrosse friends, Chris among the group.
You can feel the stare of your best friend and her boyfriend though, and it only brings back those feelings of guilt and anxiety. You’re grateful for the distraction of food, though, because it provides you an out from conversations.
You’re not used to basking in the light like this.
As the bell rings, you feel a mixture of relief and apprehension. Matt walks you to your last class, of course, offering you a quick hug before parting ways.
The class passed by slowly as you try to piece together the events of the day. In under a week, you went from a nobody with 3 friends to a somebody dating one of the most popular boys. Fake dating.
When you’re finally dismissed from the shackles of public school, you feel an odd sense of relief. You know it won’t last very long because of your scheduled date tonight, but it’s there nonetheless.
You find Matt waiting outside your classroom, as promised, a smile on his face. He falls into step beside you as you make your way towards his car. The chatter of surrounding students fades into background noise when you’re with him. A cool breeze dances through the air, making you shiver a bit. For a moment, you stayed silent, enjoying the comfort he brought you just by being next to you.
It was reminiscent of middle school; his silence made you comfortable because you weren’t alone.
“Wait, don’t you have lacrosse practice?” You interrupt.
“I take Nick home everyday, I have time to take you too.”
You nod. As you navigate through the sea of juniors and seniors preparing to leave, Matt turns his head towards you. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident.
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, offering a chuckle and a hesitant smile, “Just processing the day, you know? It’s kinda weird.”
He nods understandingly, turning his head back towards the car that Nick is already waiting at. The ride to your home feels significantly shorter when you engage in pleasant conversation with Nick and Matt.
Despite the guilt you feel over keeping up this act, the conversation flows genuinely and you find yourself really enjoying it. He pulls into your driveway, putting the car in park and smiling at you.
“Thank you, and thanks for today.”
“No problem, I’ll see you tonight?”
“You bet,” You say, waving goodbye to Nick. You walk into your house and feel like a puddle of goo, every emotion flooding your body in one go. It’s only the second day of pretending, and you’re feeling like a fly stuck in a web of lies.
Despite your conflicting feelings, you begin to get ready for your date, feeling genuine excitement. Even if it’s just as friends, Matt is really pleasant to be around.
Matt: Movie at 7:30?
You: Perfect, see you then.
The hours tick by as you prepare yourself to hang out with him. You hear a knock on your front door that makes you jump. “Dad, I'm going out!” You yell, rushing out to join Matt.
You weren’t expecting him to hug you when you stepped out. There was no one around to keep it up for, but you decided not to question it. “Hi Matt,”
“Hi.” He grins, pulling away from you. “I didn’t buy tickets yet because I wanted you to choose the movie,”
“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, heart filled with gratitude. It was a small gesture, yet it immediately made your middle school crush on him come back.
“I feel like you know a lot about me, so I thought you choosing the movie would help me learn something about you.” He said as you pulled into the movie theater parking lot.
“Yeah, I’ll pick.” You giggle at him, hopping out. When you walk in, you’re overwhelmed by the aggressive scent of buttered popcorn. Matt glanced around, beginning to guide you to the ticket counter. “Shit, that’s my ex.”
“It’s cool, play up the pda to make her more jealous,”
His arm wraps around your waist as he leans into you, pretending to whisper something in your ear. When you walk up to the counter, he unwraps his arm for a mere second to grab his wallet.
“Movie?” He asks. You tell him and he nods. “Two tickets please, he hands his ex his card.
“Hi, Matt.” She says, smiling at him. You immediately get possessive vibes that make you feel uncomfortable, but that means the plan is working. “Oh hey,” He smiles lightly, acting nonchalant.
“Who’s this?” You can literally feel the jealousy she's emitting, and it makes you shift in his grasp. “This is my girlfriend, the tickets?”
“Oh, sorry.” She hands him the tickets, making sure to brush his hand while she glared at you. As you walk towards the next counter to buy popcorn, you start laughing. “I don’t think she liked me much.”
“Good, means the plan is working.” He says, going to fish for his wallet again.
“Nuh-uh. My turn.”
“That’s not really how dates work, but nice try.”
It feels like the hours have crept away from you. The movie comes to an end, despite you willing it to last longer. Matt offers you a hand and pulls you up, making sure to hold your hand when you exit the theater. It almost makes your heart flutter; then you remember why he’s doing it.
“So, what did you think of the movie?” He says, offering you his jacket when you step into the brisk air. You smile, feeling fulfillment while you slide his jacket on. “I liked it, thanks for letting me choose. And, um, thanks for tonight. It was… interesting.”
“No problem,” he says, sounding relaxed. “I liked it too. We make a good fake couple, don’t we?”
You continue chatting while you walk to the car, and while he drops you off. Matt gets out to walk you up to your door, genuinely surprising you. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” He says, offering you another hug. You slide off his jacket and melt into him before handing it back. “Thanks, Matt.”
“See you tomorrow morning?”
You nod.
You close the door behind you, feeling the weight of the day settle into your skin. You’re beginning to ease into the fake relationship; even as the facade gets increasingly complex. You sink into your bed, shifting off to dreamland.
As the week goes on, your arrangement only gets better. You avoid your friend's boyfriend, and he starts getting desperate texts from his ex. By the end of the week, you’re sure he’s close to breaking it off.
When Matt drops you off at home on Friday afternoon, you’re insanely smiley. You feel on top of the world. The day seemed normal enough, for your new normal anyways, but there was an odd air of tension everywhere you went. You knew something was wrong when your best friend landed on your doorstep mere moments later.
She was your best friend for a reason- you trusted her with almost everything, so she didn’t understand why this week, you’d suddenly gone ghost. You normally talked every second of every hour if you could, but this week, your communication had been limited to fleeting glances across the cafeteria, or in the hallway.
You open your front door to find her standing there, eyes ablaze with anger. “Hey.. what’s up?” You say, prompting her to talk and cut through the thick silence.
“Where have you been all week?”
“At school..?”
“No, I mean, where have you been? You avoided me on Monday, and you started dating Matthew Sturniolo out of nowhere; I didn’t even know you were talking! I’ve barely seen you this week and normally we spend all our time together. Something isn’t right.”
You feel like you’re shrinking under her intense gaze. Stammering out an apology isn’t really working for her, or you, because the weight of your fabricated relationship with Matt pinned your tongue. “It’s not like that..”
“Don’t give me that!” She says, glaring at you. “We tell each other everything. Why are you shutting me out now?”
You wrack your brain for an excuse, trying to think of anything to get her off your back when you remember a conversation you’d had with her about Matt. “Look, I know I’ve been unfair to you… but I know you don’t like Matt, and I really do. I’ve been caught up with him, and I didn’t want to tangle you into it because I know you don’t like him.”
“He’s a dick.” She says to you, bluntly. “I don’t think you should be dating him, much less talking to him and ignoring me for him. Haven’t you heard the shit he’s pulled with other girls?”
“Of course I have but-”
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not different. He’s going to leave you in the dust too.”
Her words cut through you, sharp and painful. The truth hovered on the tip of your tongue, but the weight of secrecy still held it down. You didn’t know how to get out of this one. “He’s not like that with me,” you attempt to defend, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “People change, you know?”
“You’re being naïve, and I hate seeing you like this. Ignoring your best friend for a guy who’s going to hurt you in the end.”
You’re feeling shackled, like you’re in the ocean trying to stay above the surface, but there’s a weight tied to your ankle.
“I appreciate your concern,” you say, voice shaking “but I know what I’m doing. We’re happy together. You say, a feigned smile gracing your lips. Her harsh glare softens. “I trust you. Just, be careful. Okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” You nod, acting like you’re relieved, but the pit in your stomach only deepens as the web of woven lies becomes more intricate. She leaves, and you close the door behind you, sinking down to the floor.
All of this because of some letters.
The sound of a message coming through your phone snaps you out of your contemplation. You glance at it, immediately smiling when you see Matt’s name pop up.
Matt: Hangout tomorrow? Nick and Chris r asking
You: Yeah, what time?
Matt: Noon?
You: I’ll be there
Matt: I’ll pick you up
You heart the message, standing from the floor. When you retire for the night, your friend's warning re-enters your mind. You know she’s right, but the reality of your fake dating thing with Matt tugs you back into its tangled web, as it always does.
Each text from Matt, while making you smile, feels like another string of deceit weaving into a thousand more. It just deepens as time goes on. The lure of his attention and the comfort of the familiarity you feel with him vie against the guilt that gnaws at your conscience.
You’ve realized the gravity of the situation, but the truth remains locked in, barricaded by fear and the entanglements you’ve created. You want to call it off, you’ve wanted to, but you don’t want to risk falling into a chasm of more confrontations- from both your friend, and her boyfriend.
You try to shove it out of your mind so you can sleep though, preparing for your day with Matt tomorrow.
-
When you wake up the next morning, you feel giddy. You put more effort into getting ready than you normally would on a Saturday. Then, there’s a knock on your door and a hug awaiting you. This time, you don’t question if people are around, you just accept it with a grin.
“Nick and Chris wanted to come get you,” He tells you, pulling you down the driveway. Yet again, the front seat is empty for you. The energy of the triplets was infectious, in the best way possible. You immediately found yourself comforted by their presence, the simplicity of just being around them had an inexplicable effect on your already good mood.
The drive feels effortless as you settle into conversation with the group. It reminds you of how uncomfortable you’d been mere days ago, and how much had changed. You kind of frown at the thought, but quickly catch it. Matt’s smile never faltered though, leaving you with an odd sense of melancholy when you’re reminded that it’s all fake.
You can’t help but be surprised by your surroundings when you enter the house. You knew the outside, obviously having known the address, but the inside exceeds all your expectations. Family pictures litter the walls, candles are everywhere. It’s cute.
“Your parents aren’t here, right?” You whisper. “Nope.”
“So, what should we do?” Chris speaks up, cutting through the silence. You shrug in response while Matt and Nick go into deep thought.
“We should bake!”
“Nope.” Matt says at the same time you say “Okay.”
When Matt hears you, he turns in your direction. Seeing your smile at the presented idea, he changes his mind. “Yeah, baking sounds good.”
Nick glances at him skeptically, the switch-up being unusual. When your eyes wander towards Chris, you notice his confusion too.
“Baking it is.” Nick mumbles, leading you to the kitchen.
“Alright, what are we making?” Chris pipes in, pulling out various bowls. “Brownies?” Matt suggests, “I think we have a mix and I don’t wanna run to the store right now.”
“Wait, we’re awful at baking. Why are we baking?” Chris questions, wracking his brain to find the answer.
“It’ll be eventful,” Nick replies.
“If we mess shit up and it gets messy, I’m blaming it on you.”
Nick groans, going to grab the mix and the various ingredients listed on the box. “If you do that, I’m gonna tell mom about that time that you-”
“And that’s enough!” Matt cuts him off, grabbing eggs out of Nick’s hand. He ushers you further into the action of the kitchen, imploring you to get comfortable.
“You bake a lot?” He asks, smiling.
“Not really,” You admit, laughing at the commotion surrounding you. It’s fascinating to you how those around you have become such an integral part of your everyday life in the week you’d known them, despite only being in your circle for under a week.
You know your relationship with Matt is false- how could you not? You remind yourself constantly, but these new relationships you’d forged because of Matt? Some of the realest ones you’d ever experienced.
A crack snaps you out of your thoughts, followed by a millisecond of silence. “Chris!” Nick yells, looking at the fallen egg.
“How is this my fault?!” Matt finds himself laughing with you.
The brownies turn out so horribly burnt you’re not even sure if you can call them brownies anymore, and the mess is colossal, but even when Matt drops you off you only have good things to say about, and to, the group.
“Thank you,”
“Of course. I’ll pick you up on Monday?”
“See you then.” You say, waving to Nick and Chris.
The next couple weeks go by so smoothly, you almost forget you’re acting. They’re relatively the same as the first, save for more interactions with your friend. Being with Matt and his brothers, and even his friends, feels natural. Your weeks become more routine, and the plan is working. Matt’s ex is obviously getting more green as time goes on, and your friend's boyfriend won’t even spare you a passing glance.
By your one-month ‘anniversary’, you’re almost 100% sure you two are in the clear. You’re waiting at home for Matt to pick you up, excited to be with him, but feeling a pit on your stomach nonetheless. When you hear the now-familiar knock on your door, you can’t help but run to answer it.
“Hi Matt,”
“Hi.” He smiles and reaches out to hug you, like normal, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes in the way it usually does. It’s missing its charm. He guides you to the car, sure to open the passenger door for you, but the gesture is missing its usual warmth. He takes you to this cute diner, one that you’ve mentioned in a passing conversation, but the earlier apprehension you felt only grows stronger.
When you sit down, you finally decide you can’t take it anymore. “Is something wrong, Matt?”
“Not wrong, really. My ex wants me back. She texted me the other night,”
“Oh,” Is all you can say, trying to force a smile to your face. “That’s good.”
“Yeah,” He says. You’re not sure if you’re grasping at straws, but you feel like he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself too. “Do you think you’re okay to break this off?”
“Uhm, yeah. I think my friend’s boyfriend is leaving me alone.” You nod at him, looking everywhere but his face. “Should we just go?”
He can’t argue with that, so instead of getting that cute little dinner date you were promised, you’re sitting back in Matt’s car in silence as he drives you home. The atmosphere felt heavy. You’re stopped at a red light when you finally glance over at him for the first time this entire ride back. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic you’d never noticed before, while his eyes are set on the traffic lights.
“I’m sorry,” He finally says, the second the light turns green.
“For what?” You reply, trying to keep your voice steady.
“For coming up with this idea. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”
“Don’t be sorry, Matt. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. It wasn’t stupid; it did what we wanted it to do.”
He nodded, but your gaze lingered on him. You could see the mixture of guilt and gratitude swirling through his eyes. “At least it’s over, right? We manipulated the situation.” You say, trying to bring up the mood. You’re trying not to make something of nothing, but his mood seems just as melancholic as yours. “At least it’s over.”
When the car reaches your house, Matt can’t find it in himself to move, to walk you to your door. He hears your seatbelt click, signaling that you’re taking your leave.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Matt.”
When you exit the car, a bittersweet realization washes over Matt. This isn’t what he wanted. He grips the steering wheel, hurriedly putting his car into reverse. He can’t linger any longer, or he’ll make a rash decision and run back to you. He wanted his ex back, and now that’s what he’s getting.
The next day, you wake up with absolutely zero pep in your step. You drag yourself out of bed, drag yourself into your car, and drag yourself through the halls in the morning. The entire world seems more quiet without Matt next to you; your steps echo in your ears. You catch glimpses of familiar faces, but today, they seem almost alien. It makes you wish you’d never left your bed. By lunch, everybody knows something is wrong. Your spot by Matt’s side has been reclaimed by his ex girlfriend. You don’t miss the pitying looks his friends give you, especially Nick and Chris.
You never realized how humiliating it’d be when people saw that Matt left you for his ex.
You settle in your old spot, across from your best friend and her boyfriend, trying to make the whole thing feel natural. It doesn’t.
The whispers and glances you’re receiving from others feel like needles pricking at your already unsettled emotions, and your friend’s compassionate eyes don’t make you feel any more comfortable.
“Matt’s a jerk. I hate him.” She tells you, and it hurts your heart a bit.
“I don’t.” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the situation pressing on you. She winces at you defending him, but rebounds. There’s a strong desire to call him every name in the book, but resorts to saying “I can't believe he would do that to you.”
You want to tell her the truth, the lies of the situation having weighed heavy on your mind, but you know that’d defeat the purpose. You thought that when you’d ended the relationship, the entanglement of fibs you’d found yourself in would unravel, but you feel as though they’d only gotten more complicated. “You told me he would.” You say, pushing your school lunch around. She winces again.
“I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.”
When Matt stands next to his ex, who all his friends tell him is a catch, he can’t help but feel empty. His eyes wander away from his table, landing on you. Memories flood back, a mixture of genuine and orchestrated moments swirling within his mind. He’s completely dipped out of the conversation his friends are having, his grip on his new-old girlfriend's waist weakening as he thinks of you.
He catches the slightest glimpse of your eyes, one that you immediately divert; a mixture of confusion and hurt sprinkled within. A pant of guilt hits him, but he tries to forget about it as he turns back to the conversation presented to him.
“What’s gotten into you dude?” Someone asks. Matt shrugs, trying to stay involved. His eyes wander back to you, and then over to Chris, who mouths “Get her back.” at him.
He tries to pretend like he didn’t see that. He has what he wants, his girlfriend, and you have what you want, maybe.
He knows one thing: he doesn’t like the hole your absence has left in his daily routine.
The week comes and goes, Friday night rolling around and the pain of losing each other doesn’t go away. Matt’s battling himself internally to convince himself that both you and him are happier apart; he knows that’s not true. You’re fighting with yourself constantly to not spill your guts to someone, pressure that you had shared with him before the fake, but impossibly real split, weighing on you. It’s past midnight by the time your wandering mind calms enough for you to sleep.
At this point, Matt’s drafted up about 4 text messages to you, and none of them convey what he’s truly wanted to say. He called it off already with his ex-ex girlfriend. The moment she’d started badmouthing you in front his friends put a sour taste in his mouth; that, and he’d realized he was searching for you in every one of their interactions.
He’s restless, consumed by thoughts of longing for your presence. In the silence of the night, he’s grabbing his keys and heading. You think you’re imagining it when you’re awoken by the stall of an engine, but you’re forced to confront the taps on your window.
As you slowly approach the window, pulling back the curtain, you're confronted by Matt’s anxious gaze, illuminated by the faint, cool glow of the moonlight. You rush downstairs, barely stopping to slide a hoodie and some shoes on. The mix of emotions you feel are mirrored in his expression- a blend of nervousness, vulnerability, and longing. With the weight of unspoken words hanging between you, he opens his arms, pulling you in for a warm hug. He’s worried you won’t hear him out, desperate to express what he wanted to tell you in his unsent messages, but his desire to hold you far outweighs his uneasiness.
“I couldn’t keep lying to myself, and you.” He says, face buried in your neck. “I’ve been lost without you, and I can’t pretend I’m happier this way. I miss us, even if it wasn’t real.” His voice contains traces of sincerity, regret, and insecurity, but he feels a sense of strong relief take over at his admission. “I know it was fake- it started out fake- but I’m in love with you now.”
His honesty resonates as his eyebrows unfurrow, his entire body relaxing, and the weight that’s been dragging you to the bottom of the ocean is shed. Rather than sinking, you’re floating peacefully above the soft waves. You pull away from him, your anxieties dissipating like mist under the moonlight. The depth of his words stir an array of emotions within you: astonishment, relief, and a spark of hope. You search his calm eyes, being practically slapped in the face by his sincere and loving expression.
You can’t help but kiss him, seeing the way the moon puts an ethereal glow on his gestures. “I missed us too,” You start, in a soft voice. The air between you is finally cleared. “and I love you too.”
“Can we date, for real this time?” Matt blurts out, going to kiss you again. He feels intoxicated, your second-ever kiss not being a fraction of enough to sate his ever-growing hunger.
You might have started as a fraud, but somewhere along the way, when the tides shifted and your world changed, you emerged from your cocoon, into a glorious and charismatic butterfly.
“If you’ll have me as your girlfriend, for real this time.”
He kisses you again.
165 notes · View notes
Lies- Dark!MC x Auror!Sebastian
warnings for major blood/gore, mentions of sex/feeling up, death, and a light makeout session.
plot:
Sebastian is an auror assigned to catch dark wizard MC. All characters aged up over 18 :) written for F!Hufflepuff!MC but could be read as NG!MC or M!MC.
Words 2.5k
a/n This work was not beta read bc in this house we die like tobbs. I wrote this while sick and hopped up on too much tea and pizza in about six/seven hours. this was written as an attempt to get me back into writing. my prompt “Oh I see you brought me out here to kill me, didnt you?”Could be read as NG!MC or M!MC but was written for F!MC | use of you and y/n | can be read as any house but was written for Hufflepuff (where are my evil puffs at XD)
After the death of Sebastian's uncle due to the illegal use of the killing curse. Sebastian, Ominis Anne and y/n all swore that they would never tell a soul about what had happened in the tomb that one winter day. All the Ministry of Magic knew was that the five of you had been attacked just outside of Fieldcroft by a group of Ashwinders. And the twins uncle had died trying to protect you all. Years had passed since the events and the fall of Ranrok. The students that once were fifth years now all well above 21 were settled into working in the magical world. Sebastian was given the honor of being an auror working directly at the Ministry of Magic and Ominis was back at Hogwarts teaching the charms courses. With Victor Rookwood dead the severity of Anne's condition went down and she had grown very fond of magical gardening and spent most of her time outside in the dirt at her and Ominis' home.
You on the other hand had gone down a severely different path than your Slytherin friends. The month after you graduated you were off traveling and exploring the world in order to find more traces of ancient magic. You loved the way it made you feel. The power flowing through your blood. The way your enemies dropped dead around you. Your friends from Hogwarts tried to contact you but you never responded to their owls. And eventually the owls stopped coming.
Since the day Sebastian taught you crucio in the scriptorium you never stopped using dark magic. It could defeat any foe that stood in your way. And eventually after several witches and wizards went missing the Ministry caught wind of your murders. You had killed more than a few aurors in your day and they did not scare you. You were completely happy to be wondering the earth finding ancient magic and killing anyone who tried to stop you and cashing in on the rewards of your evil doing, until one day out of blue a owl came flying into your tent out in the woods, This owl swooped in plopping a letter by your side, you glanced a the owl and then the letter before the bird flew off. Odd, no one sent you letters anymore. You placed down the knife that you had been sharpening. And you opened up the letter.
y/n l/n,
I know we have not spoken in a while, but you have always amazed me y/n. The news reached London a few days ago, about the death of four aurors taken out by one witch with some unknown power. I knew when I read it that it was about you. I am headed up north to Manchester from London to meet up with Ominis and Anne tomorrow evening. We get together every few months just to check in. I'm sure we would all love to see you. Here is the address of the muggle inn we will be staying in, please do join me, I am positive you will have only gotten more beautiful than when we attended Hogwarts.
-Sebastian Sallow
You reread the letter what felt like a thousand more times over he was asking to meet? After all these years? Why did it bring a soft blush to your cheeks at the thought of seeing an old friend. Sure you had a crush on him when you were 15 and the two of you dated until graduation but you were sure those feelings were gone by now. Because feelings of love only held people like you back in getting what you truly wanted, power. You looked at the letter once more Manchester was so close only a few miles you could most definitely walk there in a day. But what if it was a trap? Would Sebastian really use this letter to somehow get you caught by the Ministry? It was risky. But it would be nice to see them all for just a second or two. With a swish of your wand the tent packed itself up into a neat little cloth bag. And you were on your way. The journey there did not take long, the sun was rising in the sky when you walked through the gates of the growing muggle city. You checked the address on the letter once more before quickly finding the inn that Sebastian said he would be at later that day. Certainly seemed to be owned by muggles. And what you could tell only muggles were around it, so why meet at such a highly populated muggle spot? You did not get it, and yet you stayed, waiting in an alley with a good view of the inn's doors until it was nearly dark, you had almost given up on him coming when suddenly you heard his voice, it brought butterflies to your stomach and a pooling feeling deep below your gut. You tried to push the feelings away and it helped when you saw Ominis and Anne walk in with Sebastian, your friends, they were all here. You couldn't help but have a small smile on your face. It wasn't a trap. They just wanted to meet in a muggle area so that no one from the Ministry would see you. It was smart. You walked in a few minutes after them and walked to the desk. A chubby muggle woman smiled at you from behind it.
“Hello, welcome to the Henford Inn. How may I help you?” she asked
“I am here to visit a friend, he just checked in, Sebastian Sallow.” the lady looked down at the parchment in front of her and she nodded.
“Of course Mr Sallow is in room four. Have a lovely day.” You stepped away from the counter and down the hallway. The doors each had numbers on it. You walked to the end of the hall and there on the final door said room four. You knocked and moments later the door opened and there he stood, his brown hair messy like it always was after he woke up and was late to Professor Sharps potions class. All you wanted to do was touch it, to comb back those curls.
“Y/n/” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He sounded a little surprised. He had only a white button up undershirt on and loose gray trousers.
“Hi Sebastian.” You gave a small wave. He invited you inside the room and he closed the door shut very abruptly behind you.
“No need to shut the door like that, we are in no hurry, love, we have all night.. Unless we are about to strip to our underpants like we are in the undercroft as seventh years just to feel each other up…” You started to laugh, turning around to stare at Sebastian, he had aged rather well, a small scruff of a beard on his chin, his eyes just like how you remembered them.
“It is just us two in here, yes? Ominis and Anne have their own room I imagine?” Sebastian nodded and you continued to murmur on about the two of them and how you always knew they would end up together. You stopped talking realizing you were rambling, instead of talking more you turned to him, walking forwards wrapping your arms around his neck. If there was one thing you missed about living alone it was the lack of human contact. You wished you could stay in the hug smelling Sebastian's undershirt forever. Sebastin paused for a moment before wrapping his arms around your waist hugging you just in the same way you were hugging him. Like two old friends reuniting again after many years. You looked up, he had gotten so much taller than when you were kids.
“Come here..” You whispered as you placed a hand on his cheek pulling him down into a kiss. It was rather unexpected for the both of you, but after a second Sebastian kissed back. His lips were so soft and it was just like how you remembered it. Your hands moved up and down his clothed chest, mouths still attached, his hands started to creep under your ass only to stop when he grabbed two hefty handfuls. You gasped as he squeezed. You pulled away from the kiss and taking a step backwards only to brush against something that certainly wasn't supposed to be in this room. You looked down there was nothing but you had definitely felt something. Your hand moved as quickly as it could to pull your wand out, in the process you pulled away from Sebastians grasp.
“Revelio.” you wooshed your wand and suddenly two people, a boy and girl who were wearing the clothes that you had just watched Ominis and Anne walk in wearing. Polyjuice, of course your friends weren't here. Was that even Sebastian you just kissed? No it had to be, he smelled exactly like him.
“Sebastian what is the meaning of this…” You paused your wand facing the two of them crouched on the floor. That's when it hit you you had seen those two before in the daily prophet they were high ranking aurors. It was a trap.
“Oh…I see you brought me up here to kill me, didnt you?” You asked, staring at Sebastian as he held his wand out facing you. You backed away from the three of them, you could see the slight glimpse of fear in Sebastian's eyes, you knew that he didn't want to do this, not to you.
“We aren't like you, we don't kill people!” The auror who had been dressed like Ominis spoke. Him and the other auror in the room had their wands pointed at you as well. They had already stood up from where they were on the floor. You closed your eyes for a second. How dare he dress like Ominis. How dare they both pretend to be your friends. The anger in you grew before it snapped and you reopened your eyes black and red swirls started to circle around you and the color of your eyes faded into a dark blood curdling red. You grunted and swung your wand upwards tossing fake Ominis into the air and in one quick move forced your wand downwards slamming him down into the floor with the power of a thousand thestrals behind it. if the impact didn't immediately break his neck then the pain would leave him imobile and the internal bleeding would kill him eventually. You were not done yet as you swung your wand to the auror on the other side of Sebastian. The one that had been disguised as Anne. Your eyes only glanced at Sebastian for a second, why had the brown haired man done nothing yet?
“Expelliarmus.” The aurors wand flew out of her hand and you glared at the auror before bolts of red lightning struck around your wand.
“Crucio!” you casted watching the auror fall to the ground. Your gaze was then fixed on Sebastian as the auror cried out in pain. Screaming for the pain to stop. Her screams could probably be heard outside the room but you didn't care let all the muggles run in no one could stop you…except…those dark brown eyes that you knew were watching you in horror.
“I remember when you taught me that. The pain I was in when you casted it on me, Merlin, was it unbearable. Like a thousand needles poking deep into every pore and at the same time like you had been cast out into a pool of lava, burning alive…” You paused for a moment only to start to laugh covering your mouth with one hand as you walked towards the suffering auror.
“Don't worry I will put you out of your misery.” The knife stashed in the belt on the side of your waist was quickly pulled out and you ever so gently slit the throat of the auror her body already crumbled on the floor now grew lifeless. Her blood leaked into the brown carpet of the room. The warm red substance now soaking and staining your hands as you continued to laugh hysterically. They were all so weak. No one could stop you! You then started to turn to still see Sebastian not having moved an inch his eyes fixated on you. You started to speak again.
“I always thought you would be the one to fall off the bandwagon of good, a Slytherin with an intense interest in the dark arts as a early teen, and yet here you are an auror just like your bastard of an uncle. Speaking of him your hands are stained with just as much blood as mine..to be fair if you had not killed him that day I certainly would have for all the shit he put you through.” You tilted your head still staring at Sebastian. But then the situation started to set in and you started to realize he lied to you. Your gut had told you this was a trap to get you caught and you fell for it.
“You lied to me, Sebastian, wanting to meet with me…using our friends as an excuse…How could you.” You stood over the dead body of the female auror.
“My friends. I used my friends not yours…I might have lied, but it was for the good of wizardkind. How could you do this y/n..you were so kind to the animals and people at Hogwarts…our professors they thought you would go far, maybe even head of the ministry but…how could you be possible of this..destruction.” Sebastian paused as he looked around the room once more, shaking his head.
“ I didn't believe it at first when they assigned me to you..your wanted posters started to line my office walls when you were careless enough to have left a small boy as a witness. You killed his whole family even their dog but him…you left him he had just been accepted to Hogwarts…he had a future with his family but you stole that from him..your a monster..” you cut sebastian off, you remembered the boy you could not kill because he looked like a certain person standing in this room.
“His father should have paid me what I was owed, my services are not cheap. He knew the consequences if I didn't get the galleons.” you spoke
“So you run a killing business now too? You make money off of other people suffering, you're no better than the ashwinders and the poachers we fought off as kids.” Sebastian exclaimed
“Dont compare me to those amateurs Sebastian, I know what I am doing, and I'm not afraid of the ministries aurors, send them all my way, they are all weak.” You started to walk towards him swinging your wand in little circles. The floor creaked underneath you as you walked. He lied.
“Here I was thinking you were better than them but I guess not. you're just like them, weak. Avada K-” A sudden flashback struck you in that instant, being back at Hogwarts when Sebastian explained to you that the three unforgivable curses just like regular spells won't work unless you truly mean them. It was only a second you hesitated, only for a second and you were cut off by Sebastian casting a spell of his own.
“Incarcerous!” Sebastian shouted as ropes shot out of the tip of his wand wrapping themselves around your body trapping your arms to your sides, your wand falling out of your hand hitting the floor.
“I'm sorry y/n…but you are under arrest by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the British Ministry of Magic.” Sebastian looked you in the eyes once more before appariting with you in tow. You swear you could have seen tears forming in his eyes when he said those words as he was the one sending his friend to her death to a life sentence in Azkaban.
112 notes · View notes
freyafrida · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
i'm assuming the rec they're referring to is this lovely post by @gogandmagog, to whom i must thank for unearthing this fic, lol. i wrote this chapter back in 2012(!!!) so unfortunately i don't remember what exactly i had in mind for shirley and pencil girl (love that nickname), or if i even had more of a story in mind. i don't see myself writing another chapter for arco iris (although never say never?) BUT i did have some vague headcanons and influences so i will share them!
anyway. what did shirley say to her afterwards? i didn't have a full idea for this in my head and i'm of two minds about it! i can see him just ignoring it because whatever, he's not interested in getting his name written up on the side of the schoolhouse and it's none of his business why Pencil Girl decided to, apparently, lose her mind one day after school. i can also see him being pretty straightforward and asking her about it and being completely embarrassed that she's sweet on him and again, having zero interest in getting his name put on a Take Notice.
either way, they both pretend it didn't happen for a few years, but Pencil Girl never quite gives up her little crush on him, and she and shirley grow to be friends in adolescence after he gets over being flustered by her existence. they exchange sympathetic letters during the war, maybe get into wacky adventures as college kids, and fall in love along the way. the end.
so, some background: this is very niche, but as a kid, i was very into the boy/girl battle series by phyllis reynolds naylor (which i also wrote fic for in 2012 -- maybe that spilled into arco iris?). i didn't do it consciously, but in hindsight, i think i was inspired by the dynamic between the characters wally and caroline. wally is the most introverted of his brothers, thoughtful and quietly imaginative, while caroline is an attention-seeking theater kid who drags wally into her mischief. they're both annoyed by each other because they're middle schoolers, but they're also both imaginative and slightly lonely because everyone thinks they're weird, and they find they (unwillingly) understand each other on that more fundamental level. anyway! it's not a 1:1 comparison, but i think i was imagining shirley/pencil girl from a similar place. we know shirley isn't totally opposed to mischief (see "well-deserved spankings" in RV) and while we also know he hates to be badgered with chatter per RoI, i was also picturing him as a bit matthew cuthbert-esque, where he doesn't mind exuberance as long as he's not expected to actually respond in kind (that's how i interpret "badgering", anyway).
i was also semi-influenced by the dynamic between kyon and haruhi in the melancholy of haruhi suzumiya, haha. obviously none of this is evident in that very short chapter, but uh, that's the backstory if you're interested, or if it gives an idea of how the rest of the story might go!
i also was actually influenced by the jenny penny section of anne of ingleside! i first read that book as a teenager and tbh i took the jenny penny section and all its judgment about Dirty Houses and Fighting Adults and Not Saying Your Prayers a leetle personally, lmao. i found the blythes pretty snobbish in that story* (this livejournal post is a pretty good summary of how i felt about anne of ingleside at the time). so i also had the loose headcanon of the blythes having to deal with someone a little socially inappropriate, who they wouldn't approve of very much. again, this was way too much to be evident in the actual chapter, but this is where the whole "girl who kisses rando boys in classrooms" concept came from, if you're interested.
anyway that's how shirley/pencil girl would've gone. hope this didn't ruin it for you, nonny, and thank you for reading ❤️
* i mean, upon reread, there are actual issues with the pennys: jenny is a more intentional liar than anne ever was, and the grandma makes di show her her underwear??? weird. but also jenny is, like, the lone realistically troubled child in a book of unusually twee children, and i found her surprisingly sympathetic for that reason. anyway. i had feelings.
18 notes · View notes
alpinelogy · 9 months
Note
10 & 19!
Lourdes do you have the slightest idea what have you just asked me? Thank you so much for asking :DD
10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
maybe we got lost (in translation) a thousand times over. Beyond the fact that it is my second fic that has broken the 100 kudos barrier which is already insane to me cause I did not expect anyone to read it since its a niche ship imo, the way people see the fic is so different from the way I saw it as I wrote it. For me it is a fic mainly about language and communication and how it changes based on who we talk with. Also specifically Esteban's relationship with English is very much based on my own experience with it, from being thrown into an English-speaking group and told to swim to English slipping in even when he is speaking in a different language ('the language spoken is a mess of French and English') Meanwhile at least from comments people see the relationship between Esteban and Lance way more strongly than I do. Which fair, it was partially written as a love letter to my bilingual friends who try to understand me even when my brain does not comprehend language and in hindsight I sometimes ignored the language part in favor of developing their friendship so I can see where they are coming from. And the fic is tagged as estelance so... lol Essentially what I am trying to say here is that people focused on way more on a part I considered secondary than I did while writing it, but I can see why. Also I've gotten so many nice comments on it and even tho I forgot to respond to them I do reread them on the regular because they spark so much joy (also first time someone whose writing I enjoy commented on my fic and it sent me for a loop lol)
19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.
I actually dont have that many wips rn, I know, shocking, its mostly just scribbled ideas and disconnected scenes. And kinkmeme claims cause I currently have uh... 50 of those
Anyway i do have this. A race engineer!Oscar AU Loscar in which Logan has never been normal about anything related to Oscar. Ever. Starring Logan as a pining mess, Oscar as the calm and collected love interest and Fred, Alex, and Liam as the victims of Logan's pining
“Good morning Logan.” Oscar says as a first thing on the first day of testing over the radio and Logan returns back to his thoughts of screaming, almost vibrating out of his seat in excitement. Goes back to his year old promise of not doing anything stupid ten seconds into the season. Hopes that when the cameras catch his inevitable joy after he gets back to the garage it will be brushed off to just being glad to be back in the car, rather than anything else. As a worst case scenario, he will just put up the Alex Albon patented peace signs because those always somehow make pictures so much more grounded and Alex is really onto something there, Logan needs to study it. He will need it for this year. Probably. Maybe. Most likely. It's fine. It's, whatever. It's definitely not that Logan also spends so much time looking at Oscar in meetings that Fred has noticed. It's definitely not that Fred, with all the subtlety he has, cornered Logan in his drivers room and unceremoniously asked what gives two days into the season. Logan deserved that one probably. When Logan tries to brush him off, it seemingly works because Fred lets himself be brushed off, does not mind Logan redirecting the conversation onto another topic instead. Logan does not know what actually awaits him days later. It's Liam this time, who corners him a few days later, after testing, after the first race weekend of the year properly starts, right after the last free practice before qualifying. Being Formula Two teammates must have done something to their understanding of personal space between each other because Liam waltzes into his driver's room like he owns the place without even knocking. Logan has a half mind to kick him out just for that, force him to knock before entering.
(this got long but look, this is 300 words out of 7.8k that i am fighting to stay under 10k it's small okay?)
fic writer ask game
8 notes · View notes
shadowlineswriting · 2 years
Text
Morgenstern
In 2011, a book came out that stunned the world of voracious readers--but you wouldn’t necessarily have known it. I don’t recall seeing The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern, really advertised at all. I remember seeing it occasionally in bookstores and libraries. Then I remember seeing it everywhere...but still, it wasn’t really discussed. 
The thing that shocked me most was that, if you found someone who’d read it, the reaction was immediate. They’d smile, get this dreamy look on their face, and just say, “Yes.” Ordinarily when you come across someone who adores a certain book they gush about it and tell you all the reasons you should check it out. Not The Night Circus fans. They’ll just smile with this look in their eye that comes from knowing something you don’t.
Obviously, I had to read it.
And then I understood, and I imagine I have the same smile on my face when people ask me about it. 
I don’t even know really how to explain this book. It’s true that it’s about a circus, but it’s also about magic. Still, that isn’t what makes the book so lovely. It’s the way Erin Morgenstern wrote it. Reading this book makes you want to sip apple cider and wear silk and look at the stars like you’ve never seen them before. The way she describes things and people, the imagination that went into creating this story, the way she evokes emotion purely by having a good vocabulary...this book is perfect. 
Once you know, you know. 
The literary world waited eagerly for Erin Morgenstern to write another novel after The Night Circus. They waited a year, then another. Then five. Then eight. 
When she published The Starless Sea in 2019, expectations were unbelievably high. I remember counting the days (literally) until the book came out. In fact, I remember telling my mom that waiting for this book’s release date was possibly the hardest thing I’d done that year, and she responded by pre-ordering it for me as a surprise so it would be ready for me after work that day. She’s good like that.
I confess, I was nervous about reading The Starless Sea. The early reviews were...well, they weren’t bad, but they weren’t necessarily fabulous. People described it as confusing and over the top. I would never let a review stand between me and a book by an author I love, though, and I was encouraged that one review described The Starless Sea as “a love letter to storytelling.” 
I’m really not sure I could put it any better. It’s true that this book is a slow burn. Nothing to move the plot forward actually happens until you’re nearly 20% of the way through (in fact, in that 20%, you aren’t even sure there is a plot), and you really don’t see how the pieces of the story come together until you only have 15% of the book left. This book requires patience.
At first, only my determination and belief that Erin was going to turn out another masterpiece kept me going. I did struggle with how many stories are contained within this one story, but I knew, I knew, that if I could reach the end it would be worth it. And it was. I finished the book and my first thought was, A book like that has never been written, and probably never will be again.
It is now 2023. Every year since 2011, I’ve wanted to reread The Night Circus and every year I’ve found a reason not to, because I wasn’t sure my memory of its perfection could be lived a second time. Every year since 2019 I’ve put off rereading The Starless Sea, as well, for mostly the same reason. 
However, we are on the Ms, and there are self-imposed rules to follow. I reread both books over the past couple of weeks and I am ecstatic to report that they are still flawless. I actually thought The Starless Sea was much better the second time, if possible, because I already knew how the stories wound up connected and that made them more enjoyable to read. 
I did learn that Erin Morgenstern books are really not meant to be read back-to-back. These are the types of books you have to live in for a while even after the back covers close, so my one mistake was reading them within a week of each other. Next time, I’ll know better and I’ll pace myself :) 
0 notes
Text
mike writes a love letter to will while in hawkins, and karen unknowingly sends it to california, alongside some other letters that were supposed to be sent. will reads the letter and feels happy, confused, worried, all at once. el notices his change of behaviour and informs mike of that, saying that maybe he has a crush on some girl.
when mike arrives to cali, he's obviously trying to hide his jealousy and in doing so he kinda ignores will. but not really because, well, he can't. will sees that mike is acting no different than last year, so he doesn't bring the letter up and acts normal as well, but he's hurt by mike's behaviour. they share a moment at the roller rink, but they are interrupted by el asking them to leave after she's been made fun of by her bullies.
after el gets taken, mike avoiding will becomes more obvious, because he now doesn't have any excuse. and will is fed up and confronts him.
"you can't keep ignoring me forever"
"i'm not ignoring you!"
"yes, michael, you are. you're ignoring me and you're ignoring your feelings"
mike stares at him wide-eyed and doesn't know how to respond. how did will know about his feelings? has he been that obvious? did something slip in one of his letters?
will storms out of the room and goes to his own room. he rereads the letter. he feels so frustrated now, because he doesn't understand what's going on. mike had said he loved him, and it seemed so genuine, but then he straight up avoided him.
mike knocks on the door, and as will doesn't respond, he slowly opens the door and enters the room. he sits next to will. he recognises his handwriting in the paper will is holding and reads the letter. he freezes.
"how did you get that?"
"you sent this to me"
"no i did not"
now they're both confused. will thinks this was just a joke, and mike wonders how the letter got in will's hands.
"fuck" they say at the same time.
"listen, will" mike begins saying, speaking in that soft voice he only ever uses with will. "i don't know how this was sent to you, you were definitely not meant to read that. but. well, i guess there's no point in denying the fact that you did read it. and i wrote it. to you. and i meant everything, every single word. i know you have a crush on someone, el told me, and i hope she likes you back, because you deserve all the best. i also hope this doesn't ruin our friendship? i meant it when i said befriending you was the best thing i'd ever done."
it takes will a moment to process all this information, and then he's grinning like an idiot.
"i do like someone. and he does like me back"
"he?" mike tries for the love of everything not to get his hopes up.
will nods. he reaches to his desk's drawer and grabs a letter that he hands to mike.
mike reads the whole thing and then rereads it. it's a love letter.
"i was going to send it to you" will says
"why didn't you?"
he shrugs. "i guess i never found the courage"
they both smile and reread again the love letter they were written to. mike looks up and hugs will.
would it be wrong to kiss him? he doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. and technically, he's still in a relationship with el, he definitely doesn't want to hurt her feelings.
he's still thinking of what to do, when they hear shootings outside the house and jonathan is yelling at them to come out immediately.
well then, moment ruined again.
86 notes · View notes
Text
Sweet and Sour (Adrenaline Junkie Part 14)
Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood, talks of hypothetically dying, bones/teeth 
Word Count: 2,392
(A/N): the next part is currently in the works and probably will be out by tomorrow/late at night tonight 
The days ticked closer and closer until you had only mere hours left until your scheduled departure for the cave. With each passing day, you became more anxious and paranoid, your prosthetic wing constantly malfunctioning until you programmed it to respond solely to your conscious movement and not the random twitching of your muscles. It took you a bit to get used to, but you quickly got the hang of it. It felt closer to having an actual wing on your back again, but not exactly. Nothing beat the feeling of the wind resisting against both wings at the same time. 
You doubted if Philza knew anything, but you did know that he suspected something. He knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. You both knew each other all too well, he raised you and you spent most of your time with him growing up after all. 
Currently, you are obsessively reading over your will and the book you wrote for Arthur full of redstoning advice and what you’ve learned over the years. After rereading your letters to your family and your will, you decided that this is exactly how you wanted everything to turn out if you ended up not surviving this. Which, the chances of you actually surviving this was slim to none. 
However, you remained hopeful as there were several unknown variables in the equation. How big this thing was, its age, and most importantly what the cave currently looked like. It’s been multiple years and there might’ve been more erosion over the years altering the surface of the stone. From what you remembered, the ceilings were at least a hundred feet tall, so you had plenty of room to hover above it when needed. You had no clue if the ledge was still there, but if it was the being most definitely could snatch you up. You were going to have to be careful. Besides, you had a son you had to live for. You were going to get out of there alive. For Arthur. For Philza. For Wilbur. For Tommy. For Technoblade.
You reread your plans. Plan A consisted of you sneaking in (making sure this time to keep your wings close to your body), planting TNT, and setting it off with a lever as far away from the deepest part of the cave as you could. Plan B, if Plan A failed and the Warden noticed your presence, was to use the portable TNT launcher while flying as high as you could. If that failed, then you were kind of screwed. Plan C consisted of dropping everything and running for your life. You’d admit, they weren’t the most well thought out plans, but it was all you could think of.
You made sure your wing was secured on your back correctly with a full movement test before you slung your bag onto your back stocked full of redstone and TNT and put your portable TNT launcher into the holster on your hip. 
You took a deep breath and gathered your papers before you took one last look at your old workshop. You made sure to scrub it clean of redstone residue and re-sorted the blueprints so that everything was easier to find in the filing cabinets. You were sure that your… unique method of not sorting anything and just knowing where everything was would be very annoying to attempt to sort through. Even Arthur couldn’t figure out your sorting system and he was the smartest kid you knew. 
Oh Arthur… He was probably sleeping right now. Or at least you hoped he would be; it was midnight. With light footing, you walked up the stairs to the second floor and straight to Wilbur’s old room. Your little boy was sleeping peacefully burrowed underneath the covers. You could hear his soft snores exiting his mouth. 
You smiled lightly and walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling back the covers to see his face. His mouth was parted slightly with a small amount of drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. You reached out to stroke his curly copper hair and smiled wider at the sight of his nose scrunching slightly before he relaxed with a small smile on his face. You leaned down to place a lingering kiss on his forehead before you covered him back up again and started to quietly walk out of the room. 
“Ren?” That was what he started calling you after he gave you the magnets. It was short for ‘parent’. You froze and felt your body warm up at his sleepy tone. You turned around and watched as he rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand and yawned. “Hey Artie, go back to sleep buddy.” You walked over to him and gently pushed him back into the pillows. He nodded and grabbed your sleeve. 
“Can you get me a glass of water please?” He sounded so out of it. “Of course, buddy.” You grabbed your bag and slung it back over your shoulder. You quietly went downstairs and filled up a glass with water. You sat it on the counter and pulled out your papers and the hefty book you had written from your bag. You spread them all out on the dining room table where Philza was sure to see it in the morning. You hopefully should be back before the time he usually woke up so you could just grab them and trash them when you get back.
Before you got back to Arthur’s room, you shed your bag and TNT launcher by the front door. You didn’t know if he saw them before, but he definitely didn’t need to see them now. Inside, Arthur was propped up on his chin desperately fighting against sleep. You walked over to him and gave him his water, scolding him lightly when he didn’t fully sit up so he wouldn’t choke. When he was satisfied, he put the water on the nightstand and laid back down. He looked up at you with sleep dazed eyes, “where are you going?”
You froze and sat on his bed, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” He scrunched up his nose and stared at you in annoyance, “no you aren’t, you’re going somewhere.”
You stared at him before you sighed, “I’m just going… to get more redstone. I just need a bit more to finish what I’m working on. I won’t be gone for long, I promise.”
“Can- can you stay here? At least until I fall back asleep?”
“Of course, my little fledgling.”
He looked up at you timidly, “will you always be with me?”
You rubbed your hand up and down his arm soothingly, “I’ll never leave you. Even if I’m away, you’ll always have a piece of me with you,” you grabbed your feather he kept on his nightstand and handed it to him. It was one of your primary feathers you lost in one of your last molts in the house before you left for L’manberg that you found between your bed and your wall. It was an impressive size being about a foot long, but your wings have long since grown bigger alongside your body’s growth. You were about to throw it away one day after doing a deep clean of your old room, but the boy was amazed by the patterns and the size of the feather. So you, being the caring parent you were, gave it to him. Since then, you’ve found him on several instances holding the feather to his chest in his sleep. 
He took the feather and ran his fingers along the vane and stem. You could see him tearing up slightly, so you leaned down and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll always be with you, my little fledgling.” You pulled back after placing a kiss on his forehead and ran your fingers through his curly mop of hair soothingly. You softly sang the song Philza would hum to you as a kid and watched as he drifted off to sleep. 
“Love you Ren,” he slurred out before he was completely out. You softly smiled at his sleeping form, “I love you too, Artie. I love you too.” You sat there for a bit absorbing his every facial feature and felt pride and warmth erupt within you. Arthur Fox was your son, your pride and joy. He certainly had a bright future ahead of him. Sighing, you remembered the task ahead of you. You needed to leave soon. 
Reluctantly, you left the room and started to make your way downstairs. “Did he have a nightmare?” A sleepy quiet voice asked from behind you. You jumped and whipped around with your hand flying to the empty holster on your hip before you relaxed seeing Philza there. He looked like he just crawled out of bed, his blond hair stuck up in multiple places and his blue eyes hazy. 
You put a hand over your heart, “Ender Dad don’t do that, you scared the shit outta me. But yeah, he had a nightmare but he’s fine now.” He tiredly hummed, walking over to you and pulling you into an unexpected hug. “You’re a good parent for him. I’m so proud of you for adapting to the responsibility that adopting a kid takes.” You hugged him back tightly and wrapped your wings around him, careful of keeping the metal one barely pressed against him. You both stood there in the middle of the hallway enjoying each other’s presence before you heard him yawn and felt him pull back. You retracted your wings and stepped back. 
“Why’re you still dressed?” 
Shit, “oh, I was just finishing up something in my workshop.”
He deadpanned at you, “you know how I feel about you staying up this late, even if you’re an adult-”
“‘Even if I’m an adult it’s not healthy to constantly stay up this late’ I know, Dad. I’m almost done, I’ll be in bed in like half an hour tops.” He stared at you for a bit before he nodded and started to walk back to his room, “alright, I trust you. I’m going back to bed and I want you to do the same in a bit. Goodnight, (y/n). Love ya.”
“Love you too, Dad.” You waited until you heard the bed creak before you went back downstairs. You grabbed your stuff before you quietly opened the door and checked to see if there were any mobs around. Luckily for you, the nearest mob was only a single 
enderman. With that, you spread your wings and took off into the clear night sky. The weather was perfect for flying. It would’ve been a pleasant night flight if it weren’t for the current circumstances gnawing and nagging at you in the forefront of your mind.
You lowered yourself to the ground upon getting closer to the cave’s entrance and glided into it landing a ways into the cave to avoid any mobs. The ores around you were plentiful, the occasional glimmering of redstone cutting through the darkness. Old burnt out torches hung from the walls was the only indicator that there were previously other people in the cave prior to now. You could only imagine how Arthur looked at the ores with amazement and curiosity. 
As you ventured deeper, you could feel anxiety gripping at your chest and remembered how innocently and naively you craved exploration two and a half years ago. You shuddered as you wondered if the beast still had your feathers and bones scattered about. The torch in your hands sent flickering light onto the dark cave walls casting all sorts of shadows. You pushed onwards through the inky depths of the cave. Deeper yet deeper you walked placing torches wherever you went. 
Eventually, you arrived at the wide opening of the cave. From where you stood, the opening of the cave was massive making you feel miniscule. Even if you were to fully expand your wings to the side, your seven and a half foot wingspan still wouldn’t come close to touching the sides of the opening. The torch in your hand hardly cut through the abyss of the cave, so you made quick work of placing them around the area so you had a clear view of your surroundings. 
The cave was as you remembered it, but if you looked close enough, there were plenty of stalactites and stalagmites that weren’t there before. You could see faint dark brown stains on the walls and floors in scattered places, the stains of the miners that did not come back. The stench of rot, mildew, and decay emanated from deep parts of the cave, becoming almost unbearable in certain points where you couldn’t find anything out of place. Occasionally, you found cracked and broken shards of bone around some of the bloodstains. You even found a tooth and clumps of auburn hair. You shuddered as you remembered how Arthur told you that Hugh had dark ginger hair.
You have only found one of your feathers so far. It was trapped between a fissure in the wall. Crusted old blood decorated and clumped together some parts of the vane. You moved on to examine different parts of the cave. Sculk blocks littered the floor randomly, the tentacles calmly moving about. Soft squelching noises sounded from them; if you held your torch close to one of them, a soft shine could be seen. It was probably slimey. 
If you stopped to listen past the crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear anything. Besides a slight squelching noise that you suspected was from the sculk blocks and the sound of water droplets dripping, there was nothing. Good, you still could place the TNT. Plan A: commence. 
You made quick work of placing sticks of dynamite between the nooks and crannies of rocks firmly and scattered the TNT along the vast expanse of the cave. Connecting the redstone was tricky though with the amount of TNT placed, but you eventually got everything connected to one and made work of making a trail to the outside. Just as you got started on trailing the redstone towards the mouth of the cave a few hundred feet away, the torches started to flicker. 
It’s here.
Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam  @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @wing-non  @lovely-echoo  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @mysteryartisticwriter  @momo-has-a-gun  @misfortunatem00n  @w-0-r-n-n  @v-kouya  @kusuinko  @cheybaee  @dulcedippers  @jaciahbabes  @prlan  @hummingbird-lightningstrike  @pog-sad-muffin  @prickypearpropaganda
General taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r
248 notes · View notes
luvidzy · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
☆ genre: fluff
☆ pairing: kim seungmin x reader
☆ summary: an anonymous person is writing poetry and you are determined to get to the bottom of it
☆ word count: 3.2k
You honestly hadn’t even noticed at first. You weren’t really into the school paper, so you didn’t read it very often unless Felix decided there was something interesting you just had to know. Which is exactly how you found out about your secret admirer posting about you in the paper.
“Y/N, you have to see this!” Felix’s voice rang out as he slid into the seat next to you. You looked up, less than thrilled to be interrupted in the middle of trying to study for your Greek Classics test tomorrow, but you couldn’t stop yourself from setting your pencil down at Felix’s excited expression.
“Yes, Felix?” You asked, trying to hide the exasperation in your voice. If Felix noticed, he didn’t let him affect his excitement as he pulled the school paper out from under his arm, unrolled it and smacked it down on the table in front of you.
Your eyes scanned the front page, trying to figure out what Felix was so eager to show you, but nothing stood out. There was an article about the softball team, an article about an upcoming concert by 3racha, and a column that was talking about new things to do on campus. Nothing particularly interesting, and also nothing that you hadn’t seen before in the paper.
“So I was looking at the paper, and something caught my eyes. Come on, you have to read it,” Felix urged, his eyes sparkling as his freckles crinkled beside his eyes. You rested your forearms on the table, signalling to him that you were listening. Felix began to flip through the pages, before he landed on one of the latter ones. 
His finger pointed out a small section of writing in the upper right hand corner. You squinted slightly, bringing the paper closer so you could look at the words. From what you could tell it, was a small three line poem that anyone would overlook if you weren’t paying attention. Lucky enough for you, Lee Felix always paid attention to the paper.
she sits so sweetly
sweater too big on her back
perfect to me
Eyes wondering over the black lettering, you felt your eyebrows furrow. There was no signature and not even a hint of who the poem might be addressed to. It seemed so out of place, yet your curiosity was growing every second.
“Does anyone know who wrote it?” You asked, turning to Felix. The blonde shook his head, pouting slightly.
“I asked Seungmin, but he said that they had just found it on one of the desks in an envelope with a note asking them to publish it,” Felix explained. You sighed, before sliding the paper away from you in favor of getting back to your studying.
“Well, keep me updated. Maybe next time we’ll know who this mysterious poet is, or maybe who he’s writing to.” Felix nodded eagerly, before pulling the paper back towards him and opening it up to read while you continued to study.
Of course, the poem wasn’t dropped there as Felix brought it up to your friends again that night as you hung out in Chan and Changbin’s apartment.
“It’s romantic, for sure. But I feel like it would be even more romantic if the person who it was for actually KNEW it was for them, ya know?” Jisung said as he threw a cheeto in the air and tried to catch it in his mouth. You stifled a giggle behind your hand as the cheeto flew back down and hit him in the face, causing him to pout.
“Maybe they wanted to test the waters? See if the person responded well before they actually did anything that might give them away?” Jeongin suggested, before stuffing some M&Ms into his mouth. Seungmin shrugged as he leaned back into his chair.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see if we get any more envelopes.” You sighed, smiling slightly as you leaned back into the couch you were sitting on.
“How nice it must be to have someone write poetry about you. I don’t think anyone would ever do that for me,” you exclaimed dramatically, throwing a hand onto your forehead for effect. Minho snorted as he threw a piece of candy at you, causing you to shriek slightly.
“Maybe, if you weren’t such a dramatic bitch, people would actually fall for you.” You stuck your tongue out at the older male, crossing your arms with a pout on your face. He was probably right, but there was no need for him to be rude about it.
The next time the mystery poet wrote in the paper, you found out about it way too late at night. Your phone began to buzz incessently as you tried to focus on your paper, to no avail. Finally you gave in and picked up the phone.
“What?”
“Y/N, where are you right now?” Felix’s voice was rushed and enthusastic, and it took all your strength not to groan. How could he be so energetic this late at night, when all you wanted to be doing was sleeping instead of studying for you stupid exam. Seungmin, who had been joining you in your study nights the past few days, looked up with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m at the library with Seungmin. Why?” You replied, rolling your eyes to Seungmin who just snickered. He knew from personal experience that the only person who would give you this reaction so late at night was Felix.
“There was another poem posted in the newspaper! I was gonna tell you earlier but I couldn’t get a hold of you. Stay where you are, I’m on my way.” Felix rushed, before hanging up. You took the phone away from your ear, before looking to Seungmin with an accusing glare.
“There was another poem and you didn’t think to tell me?” You exclaimed, cringing as the librarian shushed you.
“I didn’t think you cared that much. Besides, why would I take away Felix’s gossip? What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” Seungmin chuckled at the pointed glare you sent his way, before you turned back to your paper to try and do some work before Felix got there.
You managed only another 2 paragraphs before Felix came bustling through the doors, trying to be as quiet and fast as possible. He finally crashed into the chair beside you, spreading the paper out before you. You shut your laptop as your eyes scanned the page, trying to find any sight of the poem.
“It’s a good one this time. You’ll have to see it,” Felix said, his grin more of a smirk as he flipped to the next page and pointed his finger at the lines of text that had been imprinted on the page. Your eyes immediately trained on it, scanning over the words in every line like a woman who’s seeing for the first time.
The girl in room 204
with the world on her shoulder
but a smile on her face.
I wish I could be your Atlas
and hold the sky up long enough
for you to take a breath and relax.
But despite the circumstances,
despite her exhaustion from
sleepless nights in the library,
her eyes glow as she talks
even if it is about the most mundane things.
I can’t help but stare and smile,
wondering if she will ever notice
that she means everything to me
and that I would gladly be condemned
to a lifetime of suffering if it meant 
taking your pain for just a little while.
Your eyes widened as you looked at the poem, before you noticed the small print that was sitting underneath the beautiful lines.
-to the girl in room 204 of Levantar Hall
Your heart began to pound and you could practically feel the blood rushing to your face as you reread the tiny tag, the realization only setting in after the 5th time looking it over.
“Holy shit! Felix, these poems are addressed to me!” You exclaimed, turning to look at the bright smile of your best friend. He nodded eagerly as you turned back to the poem, rereading it with this newfound knowledge.
“And you said no one would ever write poetry for you,” Felix teased. You hit him lightly, before taking the paper and shoving it into your bag. You grabbed your laptop, slung your bag over your shoulder, before looking at the boys you were sitting with.
“Sorry gentleman, I have some sleuthing to do,” you said, before rushing out of the library, completely ignorant of the adoration in Seungmin’s eyes as he watched you go.
You spent the next few days waking up extra early and camping out outside of the newspaper office to try and catch the mystery person in action of dropping off their envelope, but you were always met with disappointment as Seungmin came in every morning with no sign of the admirer.
You were a bit bummed about it until you decided to read this week's newspaper and came upon a startling revelation. 
Another poem. 
so close yet so far
she would never know my love
it’s not my nature
You immediately called Felix, who agreed to meet up with you at the nearest cafe to discuss the poem. It wasn’t until you were sitting at a booth, coffees sitting in front of you that a revelation decided to hit you.
“Felix! I’m an idiot!”
“I mean, I know. But how so this time?” Felix said, causing you to throw a playful glare his way. You looked at the poem, before pointing at the poem in the paper and reading the words aloud.
“Okay?” Felix questioned, an eyebrow raised. You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to explain it all to Felix.
“I know whoever this is, Felix! The words insinuate it’s someone that I know, and someone who is not very affectionate with me!” You said proudly, happy that you had managed to narrow the list down. Felix nodded in understanding.
“So, that leaves only a few people, right? Cause all of your friends are pretty affectionate, outside of Minho and Seungmin, right?” Felix said, and you nodded, before freezing. Minho…. or Seungmin. You didn’t want to immediately jump to any conclusions, but you hadn’t seen anyone outside of the newspaper room outside of Seungmin and, being honest, you kind of wanted it to be him. You had had a crush on Kim Seungmin since freshman year of college and it would be like something out of a novel if it turned out to be him.
“Earth to Y/N! What’s the plan now?” Felix brought you from your daydream as you took a sip of the coffee in front of you. You furrowed your brows in thoughts, before her eyes lit up.
“I know! Felix, I just need to mention something incredibly specific to each of them! Any good writer would take advantage of the creative inspiration and incorporate it into their poem!” you announced, quite proud of yourself for coming up with the idea. Felix thought for a moment before he nodded.
“That’s so stupid, it might just work.” You pouted at his comment, before immediately looking at your phone, seeing the time, and stumbling to get up and rush out.
“I completely forgot I need to meet up with Minho for our project! Phase 1 starts right now!” You rushed out of the coffee shop, Felix laughing behind you as you nearly ran into the door due to your excitement.
True to your plan, while with Minho you brought up the extremely intricate topic of Andromeda and Perseus, a tale which you had learned about a month ago in your Greek Mythology class. You loved the story and thought it was incredibly interesting and a great muse if Minho turned out to be the secret admirer in the paper.
You didn’t see Seungmin for a few days, but that gave you time to think of the perfect topic to bring up to him. You wanted him to be your secret poet so badly and you wanted to make sure you gave him something that would definitely end up inspiring the next poem. It finally hit you as you sat with Seungmin and Jeongin in one of your University’s common areas.
“We learned about the story of Icarus in my Greek class the other day,” you started, making sure to look at Seungmin and see if he was listening to you. Sure enough he perked up, looking up to show you that he was taking in the words that were coming from your lips.
“Essentially, Icarus was the son of this great inventor, Daedalus, and they were both imprisoned in a tower. Daedalus made them 2 sets of wings to escape the tower, but they were made out of feathers and wax. When they were flying to escape, Icarus decided to not heed his fathers words and flew too close to the sun. The wax in his wings melted and he drowned. It’s a sad story, but it tells a tale of curiosity and how being too curious can lead to your downfall,” you explained, noticing how Seungmin had stopped writing as you told your story. Jeongin stared at you with a questioning glance.
“Why would Icarus fly so high if he knew he would die?”
“Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. Some say he was just foolish and brash, but I personally like to think Icarus knew what would happen to him, but decided that the ability to be free and live in the excitement for even a moment was worth the consequences he knew would befall him.” Jeongin nodded, obviously thinking about the story. Satisfied with your work, you looked back down at your work, not noticing how Seungmin had flipped to a blank page in his notebook and was jotting down what seemed to be lines of poetry.
It was a few more weeks until another poem was posted, and you were starting to be concerned that the admirer had given up and decided to stop. That was until Felix, as expected, rushed into your dorm one day, completely scaring you out of your concentrated state.
“The poem was posted! And you’ll never believe it, but your plan actually worked!” Your stomach flip flopped as you realized that the moment of truth was about to be upon you. The minute you read the poem that laid in the ink of the school newspaper, you would know who was your secret admirer. Felix handed it to you and as your eyes went to the words, you silently prayed that it was the man you so desperately wanted it to be. 
I am Icarus,
and she is the sun.
I don’t dare get to close,
even if her gleam,
bright against my rickety feathers,
warms me from the inside out.
I can never tell her how I feel,
I can never say a word,
but if I could I’d tell her she is golden to me.
That she is the heavens,
and I am just a mortal man 
begging for her to let me in,
begging for her to let me love her, 
begging for her to let me praise her,
because God knows that if I could 
I would never stop spilling words of devotion to her.
I am Icarus,
and she is the sun.
My faux wings melt like candle wax
as I force myself closer to her,
because I’d rather fall out of her atmosphere,
then never experience her at all.
Your mouth dropped open as you finished reading the carefully crafted poem, your cheeks heating up and your mind running a mile a minute. It was Seungmin. Your secret admirer was Seungmin.
You rushed out of your dorm, the paper abandoned on your bed as Felix called after you, but you didn’t have any time to stop and explain. You glanced at your phone, realizing that if you made haste, you could catch Seungmin alone in the newsroom before he left for the day. You weaved through the halls of the journalism building, the only thing on your mind getting to the boy who had written some of the most beautiful words about you.
Seungmin was standing outside of the door, locking up the room for the day, when you barrelled down the hallways and basically tackled him into a hug. He grunted as your arms wrapped around him and he stood there for a moment, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. You didn’t give him any time to react though, pulling back and staring at him with a smile rivalling the sun.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” 
“Tell you what?” Seungmin asked, genuinely confused. He had a long day and you weren’t making any sense right now. You rolled your eyes playfully, before looking at him with a smirk.
“That you were Icarus and I was the sun.” Seungmin’s mouth dropped open as you repeated the words he had written back to you. His usually sharp mind was completely blank as he tried to figure out what to say in response to you, but once again you didn’t give him time to think as you pulled him in for another hug.
This time, Seungmin allowed himself to wrap his arms around you in return and give you a squeeze. Months of pining after you and he was finally doing what he had fantasized about so many times. You nuzzled yourself into his neck, giggling as he let out a soft gasp, completely unused to the physical affection you were showing him.
“So, does this mean the poems worked?” Seungmin joked, his cheeks red as you pulled back again. You let out a laugh, nodding happily as you kept your arms slung around his neck.
“Of course! To be honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I was really glad when I found out it was you,” you said, staring at him sheepishly. He smiled softly at you, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“What gave it away though?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow at him.
“You really think I just threw all that philosophical stuff about Icarus out there for nothing? I was hoping you’d pick up the clue and use it for some creative inspiration,” you said. Seungmin nodded, feigning a look of impressiveness.
“That’s pretty smart for you.” You punched him lightly in the arm, eliciting a chuckle from the boy as he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers together, leading you down the hallway.
“So, does this mean your poems are going to stop?” you asked, unable to hide the pout in your voice. Seungmin smiled a little bit, giddy that you liked his poems so much.
“I mean, at least the public poems. But I’ll write you all the poems you want in private. But they will be for your eyes only. Can’t let anyone know that I went soft for you,” he said jokingly. You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand as he laughed along with you.
Honestly, you didn’t mind if the poems were public or private. It was more than enough for you that Seungmin was holding your hand right now, speaking words of love that held more meaning than any poem about Icarus ever could.
131 notes · View notes
Text
Chronicles of Grief
2392 words, T
Warnings: Discussion of character death, grief/mourning
Minor Russingon, though you can easily read it as friendship only
On Ao3
Russandol,
I do not know why I am writing this if I am not going to send it. I will not risk a messenger for a personal letter. Perhaps I will send it with a bird. Perhaps I will keep it in the hope of handing it to you when I see you. In the hope that I will see you…
You must already know what happened. I should have known it the moment I was told he had ridden away. I must have known, but I did not believe it. It is still hard to believe. I am sitting on his throne, his crown on my head, and I cannot believe it.  
How long did it take you to accept that your father was… gone? You see? I cannot even bring myself to say the word. In the letters I have deemed safe to send I wrote lost, fallen, gone, but I cannot bear to write de
I apologize. I should not have mentioned your father. You did not even have time to mourn him. I have become inconsiderate in my grief. Perhaps I will not show you this letter even if I do see you.
---
We had a small ceremony. It felt empty without the body to bury. Afterwards, Lalwen and I sat with Father’s closest friends and told increasingly gruesome war stories to each other to distract ourselves from pain.
I wish I could go to sleep and wake up a decade later. I know it would not change much (if anything, it would make things worse), but I intensely wish for oblivion.
Forgive me for the grim words. I am trying to find something positive in this (I can see you shaking your head at me). I am trying to tell myself that Father will rest in the Halls, that he might return to Mother. I am trying to tell myself that we are strong enough to survive this, to come out stronger from this, but it does not help, Russandol. It does not help at all.
---
I am king now, it seems. How ludicrous. The blame lies with you, you know? Of course, you do. I am king now, and I cannot lock myself in my chamber and reread your letters over and over again as I long to do.
There are so many things I should take care of, so many new responsibilities. I have been the lord of my own keep, but this is entirely different. I wonder if I can do this. I am not my father. I cannot be my father.
Why did he go and left me alone with this? Why could he not wait? I am… I suppose I can tell you. I am so angry, Russandol. Angry with him for doing it, for not thinking about me. Angry with the Enemy, with the Valar, with your father. Angry with myself.
---
I am going to confess something. I feel relieved that I have not seen the body. I know that the Lord of the Eagles would have taken it to somewhere safe, maybe to my brother, and in my heart, I am grateful that it wasn’t me he chose. I would not want to see him like that, not my father. I want to remember him as I last saw him – strong and full of life. Do you think it makes me a coward? Oh, I know your answer. You are not trustworthy when it comes to my flaws.  
---
I keep waiting. Not for him to return, not for this to be a nightmare, but for an end. An end to what – I cannot say. I would welcome any.
All we have built is falling apart, but I cannot bring myself to care. The world could break this very moment, and I would only shrug. No, worse. I would embrace it. I find myself thinking about it, wanting it. No, not wanting. I am not sure I am capable of wanting anything anymore. I would not mind it if it happened, that is all.
Do you see now? Do you see how unfit I am to bear the crown? If not, I will tell you something more horrifying. I hear about all those deaths. So many Elves and Men. Our cousins, my friends, my close friends. Do you know how it feels? Comforting. I feel comforted that I am not the only one going through this pain. Now, at least, can you see? What kind of a king does that make me? What kind of a person does that make me?
I cannot do this, Russandol. I cannot be a good king. I do not even want to try to be one. You are the only one I can admit this to. Please, do not judge too harshly. No. Judge as harshly as I deserve.
---
It is like living in a house with one wall gone. Gone forever, not to be replaced. You are no longer shielded from the wind and rain. Your home is no longer home.  
---
Sometimes I revisit the memories of the moments before I received the news. They are not good memories, full of uncertainty, pain, blood, and my friends dying one by one in front of my eyes. And yet, they bring comfort because at least my father was still alive then, I still had hope, I still had him to rely on even after such heavy losses.
I would give so much to have him back. It frightens me how much I would give.
---
I should have known disaster was going to strike. I had been so happy lately. We had had peace for long years, the Edain had come to their own, and I was free to wander. And if my wanderings often led me to you, I was the happier for it. I should have known it could not last. I had dared to forget we were cursed.
Everything feels different, Russandol. Everything is different. I do not think I will experience joy ever again. My joy will always lack something.
I keep talking about my own pain, but the truth is I do not care about it. Despite my anger, I do not care that he will not be here for me. I only care that he will not be here. Do you understand the difference?
Perhaps there is none, and I am only trying not to appear selfish. It is hard to tell sometimes.
---
I am still so angry. I have surges of violent thoughts. I want to rage against this unfairness, this injustice. I want to break the chairs, I want to sweep off the dishes from the table, I want to scratch the walls. It is so unfair! It should not have happened. He should not have done that.
I go and practice with the sword to let the anger out, but it does not help. I am powerless against the natural order of things, against the unchangeable and cruel finality of it.
---
I was passing by the kitchens the other day, and I heard the cooks sing. It was Snow upon the Taniquetil; my father loved that song. I joined in from afar, and halfway through the song, I noticed that I was trying to imitate my father’s voice. I stopped then. It was a poor imitation. It was not even close.
What am I supposed to do, Russandol? How am I supposed to replace him? His absence is felt so deeply, and not just by me. If only you could see Lalwen… You would not recognize her. The bold and merry aunt we know is gone. She is a shadow of her former self. I have never seen her like that. Not even after Grandfather died.
How can I help her, Russandol? How can I be what my father was for her? I cannot, I know I cannot, no matter how hard I try.
---
Everything reminds me of him. I had never thought about how many of my memories are connected to him. Even something as simple as brushing my hair or riding my horse makes me think of him.
It is only natural, of course; he was my father. And yet, I find myself astonished to discover just how much he has shaped me, how great a role he has played in making me what I am, how entrenched he is in every aspect of my life from my mannerisms to my habits and preferences.
I hear his voice sometimes, I hear his laughter. I go somewhere, say something, and I know for certain how he would respond. I hear it with perfect clarity, and I almost want to reach out and touch him, let myself lean against him as I used to do when I was younger.
I miss him. It is unbearable.
---
My father used to say sometimes that when this was over, he was going to leave the governing to us, youngsters, and go live on the seashore in a small house he would build for himself. I laughed, convinced that he was joking.
The other day I found drawings in his chamber. Drawings of a house. It was truly a small one, but in his nearly illegible handwriting, he had scribbled my name and the names of my siblings over the chambers. He had reserved one for each of us and another for Itarillë.
He never got to have that, Russandol. Isn’t that so terribly unfair? He was kind and strong, and he had tried to be the best father he could be for us. And he did not live to achieve his dream.
---
Time has lost all meaning. Sometimes I remember last summer’s feast my father held or that time just a month before the firefall we rode in Ard-galen with Aunt Lalwen and a small company (Angaráto and Aikanáro came to join us, and we spent a few nights under the stars), and it seems like it has just happened, it seems impossible that most of the people who were there are no more, that my father, larger than life, is gone, all his hopes and dreams are gone. He seems so alive, so present.
When I think back to the first days after his death, I am surprised I survived them. It still seems unthinkable to go on when you have lost someone so important. At times, it seems it happened so long ago that I cannot believe it has been only several months. And yet, I feel that a part of me is still there, locked within those terrible moments, reliving them over and over again. That part of me will always stay there.
---
Sometimes I wonder if I could have done something. If I could have stopped him. If I could have saved him. I wonder what I could have done differently to change the outcome. It is a futile exercise that does nothing but bring me more grief, but I cannot stop.
Sometimes I wish I could have gone back to the moment he rode out and stop him. I would stand before him and beg him to stay. I would scream at him that he was condemning himself to certain death. But he knew that already, didn’t he? He knew. Even if I could have stopped him, something else would go horribly wrong, I am sure of it. We are cursed, after all.
---
I still feel rage at times, but it is calmer, mellower, not the all-consuming fury it used to be. I sit at a council and feel the urge to throw the goblet I hold upon the wall, to see it break. I watch myself doing it, but distantly, as if it is a different person wearing my face, while I am calmly conversing with my court.  
Is this how it is going to be, Russandol? Will I slowly learn to accept it, to live with it? To live without him. It is not what I want. It feels like a betrayal.
I laugh sometimes, I make decisions, I keep on living, and it too seems a betrayal. I am wrong to feel this way, but I cannot help it. I look at his portrait – smiling, he wanted the artist to paint him smiling, so when one day Itarillë came to visit, she (a full-grown woman she already was at the moment the painting was made, mind you) would not be scared – I look at it, and I smile back, and I tear up, and I hear him scold me for these thoughts, and still I cannot help it.
---
Will you believe that I have not cried yet? I cannot do it. There are moments when I feel I will break down, when my eyes fill with tears, and my chest constricts with the wretched pain of loss, but they last seconds, and I get myself under control again.
I try to work myself into exhaustion, so I will fall into a deep sleep and not have to think, but I lie in my bed wide awake and think of him dying alone. It makes me want to scream, but I am afraid that if I start, I will never stop.
Perhaps I could weep if you were here. Perhaps I could break in the safety of your embrace. Perhaps I could afford to be fragile and vulnerable if only you were to see me. Oh, how I wish you could come. I am barely stopping myself from asking you. I know that if I sent this, you would be battling with the same desire, but of course, your good judgment would prevail.
---
I have to end this letter one day, but I have no idea how. I still hurt, I will always hurt, I still think of him every single day. There are days I still feel angry, there are days I still cannot believe it, there are days I feel exhausted and incapable of doing anything. But there are also days I am able to remember him without the accompanying piercing pain.
Maybe there will come a time when those days grow greater in number, and I will be able to smile when my thoughts inevitably turn to him. Until then, I will try to do my best and keep living and hoping to see you safe and sound.
Yours,
Findekáno
23 notes · View notes
donkey-hyuck · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
word count- 2.5k+
genre- FLUFFY | neighbor!au
characters/pairings- neighbor!jeno x reader (gender neutral) | dreamies
warnings- language | dialogue heavy | over usage of words bc i’m irrelevant | the cutest people ever
introduction- since moving to the city— closer to your university— you noticed that your cat had taken an interest in another cat from the apartment building across from yours. she seemed very intrigued and things only escalated. in a good way for the both of you. because who knew such a good looking guy owned three cats he was allergic to?
a/n- based on some ‘the dodo’ story i saw a couple months ago and it was so cute hehe. also yes this is another jeno drabble thingy okay. and idk where the divider is from, i just have it on my phone sorry :(
Tumblr media
the last box you had packed prior was finally set in your new apartment by your brother.
“this is the last one, right? because i’m not helping you anymore,” he huffed out a breath and rested his hands on his thigh. you snorted out a laugh and responded, “lazy ass. yeah, this is the last box. thanks for coming.”
you invited your brother to stay a bit later to treat him for takeout but he declined and reassured you he was fine and was going to head home. nodding your head, you just agreed as you walked him to the door.
it was only about six p.m. when you decided to unpack the rest of the boxes that you and your brother had brought up. when walking back into the living room, the shades to the window were still opened and you saw your cat, bomi, sitting by the window peering through the opened shades. the apartments from the complex across from yours were the same as any others. many university students or young adults filled the rooms, some curtains were closed, and some were lit up by the LED lights that lined their ceilings. but one window was opened. it showcased the large tv the stranger had as well as three cats by the window as well. one of them was even similar to bomi. however you thought nothing of it, too tired of driving back and forth and bringing boxes up and down. so you closed everything in for the night after unpacking about three or four boxes.
the following morning, you walked to the kitchen. and through the opened kitchen was your living room which you saw bomi sitting at the window again. you had called her over and put the cat food in the bowl for her breakfast. after leaving bomi for her breakfast, you grabbed your laptop from your bedroom and sat on the couch to finish some work and answer emails from your new university. moments of rereading emails stopped when you looked up— for no particular reason— and saw the same cats that caught bomi’s attention by the window. and then the shade was opened. oh wow.
the owner of the cats was a male. you didn’t want to assume but he looked as though he was around the same age as you. and he was cute. really fucking cute. the guy that opened the shade was wearing a pair of adidas track pants and was shirtless. and you just stared at him, as creepy as it looked and sounded like. by his feet were his three cats and bomi was sat next to the window once again.
“bomi, what’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” you asked and grabbed her small body and sat back on the couch. “do you want friends now? are you lonely because we moved?” you joked to yourself and scratched behind her ears. but once you set her free from your grasp, she sat by the window and you noticed one of his cats was looking at bomi. just as you were about to put away your laptop, bomi got up and walked around the perimeter of the window with her head still facing out the ceiling-to-floor window.
your eyes followed her feline figure and an idea shot up from your noggin. you didn’t know if it would work but it was worth a shot. so you went to your car and drove to a nearby craft store to buy some poster boards and markers. when you got home, you contemplated in your mind for a couple minutes before just going for it. fuck it. you wrote the poster as if you were in bomi’s body. and you thought it was a bit childish and unrealistic but it was worth a try.
‘hi, i’m bomi from the apartment complex next door. i see you three cats, do you wanna be friends?’ unbelievable. absolutely unbelievable. but you just taped it up on the window and closed the shade just enough for you not to see if he responded and got ready to go to your job. this was never going to work.
when you got home, the sun was just barely setting and bomi was once again, sitting by the window and looking out into that apartment. you sighed to yourself and picked her up before opening the shade to see if the cats— or more so the boy— had responded.
thankfully, the boy didn’t reply and it calmed your nerves down a bit more. the entire day you were away at work, thoughts filled your head about all the possible outcomes that could happen. without realizing, you breathed out in relief and set down bomi to get ready to eat dinner and shower. all the while, you forgot about the poster and there it was— left taped on the window.
Tumblr media
donghyuck, renjun, and chenle had been over jeno’s apartment that day when they saw the poster taped on your window.
“jeno! who’s bomi?” exclaimed hyuck with his brows raised up and down, playfully. jeno got up from his seat at the kitchen island when he looked out the window behind his couch. he then just shrugged but did not miss the cat that looked somewhat like seol. then renjun spoke, “maybe it’s that cat. hey, doesn’t she look a little like seol?” chenle went toward the window to put his two cents into the conversation, “hey, she kinda does! what if she’s looking at your cats, jeno?” he asked and pointed out the window. “we should write back!” he then said with a bright smile on his face.
“we can, but i don’t have any poster paper right now,” he excused. though the boys thought he was lying they suggested that they would go to the nearest corner store to buy some cheap poster papers to reply to you.
and they did, but around ten at night when you were long gone from your living room and asleep in your bed. bomi wasn’t at the window either, but they still decided to write the letter for you in the morning.
‘i’m seol, the one that looks like you. the one with the black is nal and the one with the gray stripes is bongshik. it’s nice to meet you!’ read the sign. jeno could not believe he was writing back to a stranger he’s never even seen before. but it was whatever, new friends for his cats, he figured. the male held the sign in front of him for a minute before just shaking his head and taping the poster to his window and he was out for the night.
the morning you woke up, you had set a reminder to yourself that your classes started today and got up from your bed to make breakfast for both you and your kitty. opening the shade to the window, bomi was pawing and softly meowing at the window.
noticing the paper still stuck on the window, you mentally curse yourself out and look to the opposite side of your building. there was also a piece of poster paper that was taped onto the window with his three cats under it, looking out into the city. you identified the three cats immediately.
“bomi look! you really do look like seol. they can be your friends instead of those alley cats back home,” you spoke to her and then got ready to attend your nine a.m. class. however before putting on your shoes, you wrote back a little note for the cats on the opposite building.
‘great! y/n (my owner) is at university but let’s meet some day!’ you still could not believe you were doing this as you finished taping up the board. you left it there for the day as you went to your classes for the next couple hours.
throughout your first classes, your mind always went back to what happened the last few days. your neighbors as well as his neighbors must’ve thought you were both crazy. but anything for your cats.
for some reason when you got home, you were in a rush to see if the boy had responded to the message you left that morning. and in all hell, he did.
‘hey! jeno (our owner) is on his way to class too! and yes, let’s definitely meet one day! our owners can meet too!’
Tumblr media
when jeno awoke that morning, he was shoving cereal down his throat and looked at your window. his heart was beating faster as he read over the note and ran to put away his bowl and get ready for his class. though he didn’t forget to write back at you, even if you probably wouldn’t see it until later.
with the cap of the marker in his mouth, jeno quickly wrote down what he was going to say and messily taped the poster to his window and left his house. he was almost late for his nine a.m. class.
Tumblr media
watching the students come in you noticed the owner of bongsik, nal, and seol come into the room. oh shit. you tried to hide yourself behind the screen of your laptop when you remembered that he’s probably never seen you before. so slowly, you escaped your little hideaway and kept your identity on the low. because he might have seen you in broad daylight when your shades were up. but he didn’t, so you were safe.
looking at the message taped to his window, you wrote back.
you were sitting on the carpet floor of the living room when jeno finally saw you; specifically your side profile but he wasn’t complaining. you were doing the same thing he was that morning— the marker cap in your mouth with your brows furrowed.
he then saw your face when you sat up and got the roll of tape to stick on the glass. and you too, saw him looking at you with a smile on his face. your jaw was slightly dropped and the cap of the marker fell from your mouth as the boy laughed at your expression, then he waved. your eyes were opened wide and you shyly waved back.
jeno read over the note you just wrote. ‘hi i’m y/n (sorry this whole thing was so weird but my cat would not stop meowing at yours) but we could meet at the park? if you’d like?’ he smiled even more as he read over your writing. jeno nodded and asked ‘is it okay if we meet now?’ to which you shook your head ‘yes’ and were on your way to the nearest park (which was a measly three minute walk from your apartment.) then, you realized you never specified a park and just hoped he came to this one.
your hands were in your pockets as you awkwardly looked around to see the cute boy that lived across the street. he came up from behind you and greeted, “hi, i’m jeno.”
upon the sudden talk, you slightly jumped and turned around as he laughed again, his eye smile on full display.
the two of you walked around the park and conversed for what seemed like a couple minutes. but after you exchanged numbers and arrived home, you realized you had been at the park for a good hour and a half. holy shit.
you found out a little bit more about lee jeno. he was allergic to cats yet he still adopted three (which was beyond the epitome of cute), that he also moved to the city around a year ago, and that you two were attending the same nine a.m. class. you two had so much in common, huh?
Tumblr media
arriving home to his apartment, jeno laid on his bed with his hand over his heart. it was beating fast. who knew his cats would bring him someone so attractive?
just as he was thinking about you, seol jumped on his bed and knocks were heard from his front door. he rolled his eyes and got up from his bed, it was his best friends staying for the night. it was a friday, after all.
while hanging with his best friends he decided to message you to see what was popping i hate that i said that lmao. and through the next two movies, jeno was not paying attention. he’d look to see what was happening here and there but always trained his eyes back to his phone.
“ayy why are you on your phone?” teased jaemin and hyuck.
“yeah, who are you texting this time at night?” said mark and jisung.
“and why are you texting someone?” poked chenle and renjun.
none of these questions were barely answered because jeno was too busy smiling at his screen. but then mark looked over his shoulder to see that jeno was texting you.
“ayyy, who’s y/n?” mark raised his voice and hit jeno’s strong bicep. just as your name exited mark’s mouth, jaemin’s eyes lit up and knew who you were.
“oh my god, that’s soojin’s new neighbor!” he shouted and stood up from the couch.
“jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend! jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend! jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend!” the six boys jumped from their seats and chanted. renjun then reminded them that you lived across the street and they ran to the window to see if you were there. unfortunately for them, your shades were closed and the only thing they were able to see was bomi.
“hey doesn’t that cat kinda look like seol?”
Tumblr media
the next day (after his friends had left), jeno invited you to come to his apartment so that bomi could meet his three cats, two which you agreed and packed whatever bomi needed. you weren’t going to stay there long, right?
when bomi met bongshik, nal, and seol, the four of them kicked it off nicely. there was no hissing nor scratching and it made both you and jeno happy to see that your cats were getting along after never having a meeting. so while your cats played around in jeno’s apartment, he offered to let you stay for dinner. you were hesitant at first but agreed as he ordered some soju and chicken. predictable.
to you, jeno was being nice. though he was cute, you didn’t really know who he was and so you didn’t have a reason to catch feelings for him. but to jeno, you were more of a crush. not a big one since you both just met, but a tiny one. he knew you were a good person at heart and he couldn’t help the little emotions that he felt in his chest.
after many play dates between your pets, you did actually start to form feelings for lee jeno and he finally had the guts to ask if you wanted to go on a date.
“i thought you would never ask.”
and though it all deemed impossible and like a fairytale, you were glad you spoke up that day. because in the end, you got a boyfriend that was loving, and your cats had each other to play with.
102 notes · View notes
commanderserwin · 4 years
Note
Hello! Umm 😶 may I ask for an erwin x reader its an enemies to friends to lovers trope where they headbutts and are against each other during their early cadets years then erwin got promoted to commander and are secretly smug about it but reader knows and shes like yeah right your eyebrows are still hideous but she loves his eyebrows then she learned about erwins dream, about his father... just do you hehehe I just want a strong reader that go against erwin but they end up together 😘
❯ characters. erwin smith x reader
❯ notes. hello! i’m so so sorry this took a lot! i got caught up with exams then my werdsmith undid half of what this was supposed to be (it was supposed to be an angst/hurt/comfort but i think i’m gona draft that fellas 😔 kinda finished tho sigh) but yes! so sorry, i hope you’re still there and this is okay for you! i hope you enjoy, my love ♡ 
hooked.
Tumblr media
The enemy. A simple bond of dislike towards each other that has always left the two of you spewing words left and right, demanding from others who is right and wrong, who is better and the best, who is smarter, faster, stronger— all in the midst of training, and in lectures or classrooms, always looking for confirmation that they are the best. People thought that it was just the two of you being kids— the complete opposites of each other, always striving for the best for the attention of the superior officers, and from the instructors.
Even so, that they would always pair the two of you, put the two of you in the same squad, always pushing and pushing to be together to work things out but things would always get tangled and be turned into a mess but would turn out okay.
“That’s not how you do it,” Erwin commented, tapping your solution with his finger. He began to raise his hand to call on to the instructor but you placed it back down. 
“I know, but it works,” you gritted through your teeth, busy with rereading the letters on the paper, as you pushed it to him. “Check it.”
“I don’t want to get a low remark on this.” Erwin grudgingly accepted the paper, hesitating to write his own name together with yours. But he wrote it nonetheless because it works out.
If that was how things were in lectures, it was the complete opposite during the trainings. Erwin would always jump faster than you, taking your point away from you while you lurched on a branch, angrily flailing your arms at him.
“That was my point!”
“Be quick,” Erwin screamed back, smiling while you flipped him off. He would annoyingly go to you, dusting off of his trousers while you marched forward at him, pushing him away.
“Thief!”
Then, while he watches by the corner of his eyes as you leapt to go back to the group, Erwin would shake his head, checking his gear and ultimately following you.
The friend. A simple bond of understanding that the two of you had already grown apart yet together, placing differences away to compromise, to work together and not against, as both of you started to question the use of hating each other when others are disappearing left and right— living with no promise that they’ll see tomorrow’s sun. The wisdom of growing a little older, the hardships of the work, the understanding.
It all started from that one sleepless evening, until you have memorized the lines and breaks on the ceiling, until you have closed your eyes hoping for the sleep to come but it never did. Little did you know, Erwin was also feeling the same thing. So when your paths crossed in the mess hall, both of you looking for something else to get off of bed, you two found each other.
Erwin sat on the table, a dimming candle beside him while his hands were clasped as he was deep in thought. He turned his head around just as you were about to leave, your eyes met his— and there was sadness swirling with the blues you have come to like.
“Can’t sleep?” Erwin asked quietly, looking at you.
It took you a minute to respond, all wanting to leave or to stay, to be with company or to go back memorizing the ceiling as the sun rises. You nodded, gripping the chamberstick as you rounded the table to sit in front of him.
“There is still hot water left, if you need it,” Erwin said, holding the mug before him. “Should I go make you some tea?”
You shook your head, clasping your hands together tightly, thinking if you should be here. Erwin stayed quiet, sipping his tea every now and then, looking out the windows behind your head, and then going back down to look at his mug.
“Are you okay?” You murmured, meeting his eyes as he looked at you. “Is something bothering you?”
“Just thinking,” Erwin nodded, eyes still deep in thought. He looked at his cup, smiling softly. “Just thinking about my father.”
“Oh,” you tapped your fingers on the table, racking your brain about Erwin. All you could remember was how he would animatedly talk of his father, saying his stories— until you perked up, making Erwin look at you. “I remembered he’s a teacher. How is he doing? Does he still teach?”
Erwin dropped his eyes, noticing the grasp he has on the cup. He raised his head, staring at you, and you knew just from one look that his father was gone. It was too familiar because you have gotten used to looking that way towards the families of your dead comrades.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I didn’t know... I’m sorry, Erwin.”
“It was a long time ago.” Erwin nodded, finishing his tea while he glanced at you.
Stories. You smiled softly, tilting your head to the side as you propped your elbow on the table. Erwin smiled back, perking up while you spoke to him.
“Will you tell me one of his stories?”
The lover. A simple yet deeper bond of each other, one that has seen the best and the worst, the hate and love, a bond that has called each other theirs— not the way enemies declared each other as nuisance, not the way friends declared each other as delight, but the way amour runs through the heart and brain.
It was a surprise. All the looks and the late night conversations just like before were normal. It was usual to hold each other's arms when walking in the headquarters, a tug on the sleeve, a hand on the back— everything that has become normal throughout the years.
But it was the fleeting glances. It was the smiles that became so much more, the eyes that speaks beyond the languages of being friends, the lips that has touched once— once because of the courage running through your veins as you placed your hands on either side of his neck, pulling him down to place a kiss as gentle as a feather, but the feeling inside was as heavy as all the weight in the world.
Then he pulled away, his eyes reading your face, and in a second, he leaned down— lips upon lips, twice, thrice, four times, as much as time permitted until somebody has knocked on his office door, calling out for him.
"In a minute," Erwin croaked, his thumb running over your lower lip as you stayed pressed against him, arms wrapped around his neck while his eyes stayed glued to yours. "I'll be out in a minute."
"Go on."
Erwin leaned down again, lips touching yours, smiling, as he pecked your lips over and over again until you laughed in his kisses, pushing him away. Erwin wrapped his hands around your body, until he used his hand to hold your chin steady, placing more kisses until you pulled away, a stern look on your face.
"Not on me," you mumbled against his lips, leaning forward but catching yourself as you patted his chest, "You'll be late."
"I can afford to be late," Erwin said, his thumb rubbing circles on your jaw, "They can wait."
"Just because you became Commander you could do whatever you want," you pursed your lips, clasping your hands behind his neck. Erwin raised his brow, a knowing look on his face, "Don't be too smug about it, Eyebrows."
"I haven't heard that in a while."
"Time to bring it back then," you nodded, brushing his brows as you pushed him away gently, turning him around to push him towards the door, "Okay, go on! Now!"
"Trying to order your Commander around?"
"Go, Eyebrows, or I will kick you out," you pulled him towards you, wrapping an arm around his back, dragging him outside but he was persistent.
Erwin looked down, smiling at how flustered you were, tinge of blush on the apples of your cheeks as you tried to look angry but the soft look on your eyes were telling a different story.
"I could stay."
“No.”
“I could, really,” Erwin placed his weight down, a hand coming up to the door as he looked at you. “I don’t mind.”
“Erwin...” you warned, taking his hand off of the door. “Get out.”
“Why?”
Erwin raised his brows, tapping his fingers on the door while you exhumed feign anger, caught in between wanting him to stay or to leave, and wanting to go towards him or the opposite way because... you just couldn’t handle being too close to him ot else you’ll lose your calm composure.
“Fine,” Erwin mumbled, slowly dropping his hand but you caught it in quick.
“No!” You hurriedly say, raising your hand at him, heart beating so fast that it made you feel so warm, “I mean, yes. Go.”
Erwin nodded, a smug smile forming on his lips as he shook his head in awe for what a flustered mess you were before him. He only realized that when he was about to step out, he felt a slight tug from behind only for you to notice that you were holding on to his shirt, tightly— until you have let go, scurrying past from him as you left him the door dumbstruck, unsure of what he should do next, but knowing fully that he wants to follow you.
Take his steps again as it lead him to you. He would gladly take all your screaming and scheming back when two were cadets— the deemed enemies of the Corps. He was thankful that because when he couldn’t sleep from thinking of his father, he has met you— his father acting like a string to pull the two of you together. He was grateful for the courage you had in you that resulted to the kiss— kisses that he found looking for more. He followed your hurried footsteps like a lost puppy while you repeatedly looked back with a frown on your face, as the distance between the two of you came into nothing as your shoulders brushed upon each others.
Looking straight ahead, you hooked your finger on his little finger— pinching his side as Erwin tried to lean down but you gave a him look, which caused him to straighten up, taking your hand whole in his own.
"Later, then."
136 notes · View notes
the-fiction-witch · 3 years
Text
Love Locked Up P3
TV SHOW ACCUSED COUPLE: JAKE X READER RATING: SWEET
Tumblr media
I sat on my bed pondering the complex questions that come though my mind in this place. The birds coming back and forth as the babies learnt to fly from the nest, the other guys at visiting I know y/n wasn't coming today she has work today. So I just sat alone with my thoughts.
How is it that a spongebob lives in a pineapple which is round. But all his rooms are square? 
"Hummmm…" I pondered 
"Hey murray? Your little girlfriend is not visiting today?" Luke asked me one of the guard guys only a year or two older then I was he leant on the open door frame with something in his hands 
"Not my girlfriend, but yeah she has work today"
"Well, you got some letters" he says handing me a couple of letters putting mike's up on his bed 
"Thanks" I nodded 
"No worries" he says, wandering off, I opened the first from my mother, not much overly interesting just keeping me up to date with the general news and goings on but I didn't even pay much attention. 
I opened up the other let and I smiled instantly seeing the handwriting 
"Awwww my beautiful little y/n" I smiled widely 
'dear jake, I'm sorry I can't visit for a few visiting days I've got alot of shipments coming in over the next few days, And I've got a little booth at the comic convention maybe I'll get you a present while I'm there. I miss you terribly jake, I can't stop thinking about you all alone in there. I keep rereading your letters before I got to bed imaging when I cosy up with my pillow I'm snuggly close with you. I'm sorry that probably sounds silly, we barely know each other. I hope you write back soon I miss you x."
I smiled so widely almost in tears instantly writing back
'dearest y/n, please don't apologise I know how busy you are. You don't have to get me a present or anything I'm just happy to hear from you, please don't apologise y/n… if I'm honest i do the exactly same thing, i read your letters every night before I go to sleep, I look at your picture every morning and I wish I could be there with you, it's not silly at all. I often pretent my pillow is you when I miss you too badly, y/n. I know this sounds crazy and I know we don't really know each other I mean we've only met on person once but I feel… something so special with you, something I've never felt about or with anyone else before. I know I'm going to sound nuts but, I really really like you. And if you'd let me I'd love to maybe one day, be your boyfriend? It's alright if not I understand, your out there and I'm locked up in here, you probably have boys asking you out on dates all the time and I… have nothing to offer at all. And I couldn't expect you to wait for me, it wouldn't be fair on you. I hope to see you soon and that you respond soon your letters always make me so happy. I miss you too x' 
I sat on my bed feeling like my heart hurt, I hadn't had a letter from y/n, For over a month. Everyday when they came around with letters I sat hopeful but nothing. 
"What's the matter kid? Your girlfriend not wrote you back yet?' mark asks from his bunk 
"No, it's been over a month… what if she doesn't want to talk to me anymore?" 
"Maybe she's busy, you know what the post can be like sometimes" he says 
"I know, I just miss her" I sighed looking at her beautiful photo
"Visiting starts in a hour boys" Luke smiled as he walked past opening the cell 
"Does jake have a visitor?" 
"Yeah, she seems very excited" 
"She does!" I jumped off the bed "is she-"
"Yes it's your girlfriend" luke laughed heading down the corridor
"See I told you not to worry, let's get going." He suggested 
I happily ran off to the showers….
17 notes · View notes
artoutforblood · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’m rereading Cirque du Freak again and it reminded me of an old oc of mine and their adopted dad ;-;
yes i know theres another character named Arrow don’t @ me
TW: child molestation (not by gavnur) and child assault and spoilers for CdF
Arrow Purl (born Abel Arrowood) is Gavnur Purl’s adopted kid. He rescued and made them half-vampire when they were 8 years old when he found them half-dead, in the middle of being murdered and molested by their attacker after they had been abandoned by their birth parents in a nearby shopping mall. 
Although he had initial doubts, if he were to save them, he had to make them half vampire so they could survive. Even knowing what could eventually happen to them in the future as a half-vampire, he couldn’t leave them to bleed out from their wounds with their last memories being violated. 
Even with the excelerated healing abilities, it still took them a week or more to heal from the fatal wounds with constant supervision from Gavnur. During the process, their brown hair turned fair silver, with some locks retaining their original color, and their brown eyes got a silver sheen to them. Gavnur chalks this up to the strain of the recovery and the transformation into half vampire, at least at first.
Eventually, they awaken in a daze, half crazed from the memories of their assault, and Gavnur quickly hypnotizes them into forgetting the event entirely and then lulling them back to sleep. When they wake next, they only remember being lured into the alley where he found them and nothing afterwards. The attack left them with several scars on their torso and the slash across their eye and neck, and they know they were attacked and was hurt terribly and Gavnur had to make them half vampire so they could survive because he told them, but isn’t aware of the specifics.
Though they’re initially wary of Gavnur due to previous neglect from their parents, they are still grateful to him for saving their life and taking them in. Gavnur Daddy-Issues Purl immediately takes to them and starts raising them as his own. 
Because of Arrow being missing instead of dead, and only being noticed that their gone by their past school teacher as their parents gave no missing persons reports, Gavnur cuts their hair, hides their gender, and gives them the new name Arrow and his last name, passing them as his nephew and adopted son from his deceased sister. 
Arrow is cautious and easily anxious and scared, and sticks to Gavnur like glue in most situations, often grabbing an article of clothing in reach or his hand. That being said, as they get a little older, they become curious and starts asking more questions about becoming a vampire and everything that comes with it. Most adults are fond of them because they are polite, kind, and have remarkable good behavior. Around Gavnur, they’re more outgoing, witty, and can be a troublemaker. 
Within a year, Arrow grows to love Gavnur dearly and begins calling him their Daddy. Arrow comes to hold him in high esteem and puts his livelihood over their own, much to his chagrin as the opposite is also true on his side. He spoils them with love to the point they can climb up in his lap at any point, even during situations where this could be considered impolite, and he’d let them. The relationship becomes a bit codependent as a result.
As time goes on, Arrow starts showing signs of having premonitions, put into three categories: Sense (most common), Know (as in knowing what a person has or plans), and See (least common and only happens when in direct contact with an object or person. They see the future as it will happen.) A future Seen is impossible to change, unlike a future Sensed. Younger Arrow often can’t put these events into words well, and sometimes forgets that it happens at all. They become more powerful and easier to remember and channel as they get older.
Theres a lot of stuff that happens, but I don’t feel like writing it all down. They do meet Larten before the events of CdF, and then later when Darren and Larten are with the Cirque. They have a horrible, foreboding feeling that something terrible will happen dealing with the four of them, but still makes fast friends with Darren and gains Larten’s affection. Darren see’s echoes of Annie in them and gets attached.
It takes Arrow thirty years to hop up in age, a year before the events of Vampire Mountain, where they look about 17-18. This makes them a late bloomer if I remember half vampire aging correctly. Darren is utterly shocked when they meet up again in Vampire Mountain, only for Arrow to tease him and remind him that they have always been much older than him.
The two’s relationship is that of close siblings. Before, Darren saw himself as the big brother, but that’s soundly flipped on its head and Arrow takes the mantle from him. Arrow is still somewhat childish and the years of traveling with Gavnur has made them more sure of themself, optimistic and cheerful, and gave them a sense of humor, but now that their body and mind has matured, they’re more responsible and is better able to understand adult conversations.
They elect themself to take the Trials first, to give Darren time to train, and takes it upon themself to watch over him and considers his safety very carefully. 
Then, well, Gavnur died, and it all changed. Arrow decides that all vamaneze deserve to die, and after Darren becomes a prince, they fall into depression and despair. Never leaving their room, never speaking, never moving, wanting nothing more than to starve to death and see their father again.
Larten, Darren, and Harkat come to visit and try to get them to eat something or drink blood, but nothing works. Until, Larten visits and puts a letter Gavner wrote on their bedside table. When he leaves, they read it, and realize it was written for them. Leading up to the event of his death, Arrow had been sensing something about to happen, and having dreams about him dying. They had been bringing it up often and anxiously, and the night before his death, they even crawled into his hammock like they did as a kid and begged him to never leave them.
This letter was to tell them that he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that promise, but that no matter what happened, he wanted them to live a full life knowing that he loved them, and that he wanted them to have plenty of stories to tell when they met again in Paradise. 
This was enough for them to respond to Darren when he came to see them next, and the two ended up bawling on the floor. Darren because he felt guilty about Gavnur’s death, and Arrow mourning him and reassuring him it wasn’t his fault. They had Seen that future, and knew it was unchangeable. Larten comes to find them there later, with Arrow holding Darren as Gavnur had held them, and he comes to sit beside them. As Arrow grabs his cuff, he sheds a few tears for the boy he had once raised.
After this, Arrow becomes cynical, pragmatic, easily annoyed and angered, and devotedly loyal to Darren and Larten as they are the only family they have left, and they refuse to let them die. Any and all threats to them and their safety is met with severe and unprejudiced hostility. However, they become apathetic and uncaring about their own well-being, throwing themself into training and swordplay to a point that Larten has to step in. 
When Tiny comes telling of the prophecy, there is an immediate air of two opposing magnets coming near to each other. The earth shakes under their feet, the clouds clash and throw lightning that day, the air itself tastes of ozone and fire. The two recognize each other as dangerous and powerful enemies. Tiny doesn’t try to stop them from joining their crew, as he himself admits that he doesn’t even understand what they are enough to say no. 
When Vancha joins the band, the two do not hit off at the beginning. They’re disgusted with his bad hygiene and he thinks theyre a bit of a stick up the ass because of it. But, eventually, the two’s bickering becomes a thing of the past, replaced by affectionate jokes that are only sometimes at each other’s expense. Vancha bathing doesn’t hurt either.
Insert more stuff that I don’t want to type right now.
But. If you read CdF, you know what happens. And Arrow is left as a shell hellbent on killing all vampaneze, and initially fights tooth and nail against Evana’s plan to bear a half-vampire and half-vampaneze child, declaring: “IT WON’T BRING THEM BACK!” 
When Vancha grabs their arm and says, “What’s more important? Killing vampaneze, or our survival?” And in that moment, they saw their own, unchangeable future. 
They get older. They get older. They get older. And the world moves, and moves, and moves, and but they do not. Every second is an empty eternity, a lonely, torturous and slow death until they are berried where they stand, and the world is thrown into darkness and silence. 
They give no more resistance, and returns to Vampire Mountain. There, they take a vial and ask Madam Octa to bite the thin film over it and fill it with enough venom to kill a vampire.
They sit in one of the caves open to the outside, knowing Vancha will come to find them. When he does, they talk about the future, and they tell him that he has his responsibilities to tend to as the father of the future child. He asks what the vial is for, and they tell him its a sleeping potion, and that they hadn’t been sleeping well for a long time.
They make a small incision along a vein and asks him to stay while they fall asleep, because they’re scared of falling asleep alone.
“When the morning comes, I’ll be able to breathe again.”
He starts to ask what they mean, but they put the venom in their mouth before putting their lips to the cut and shooting the venom into their blood.
The world is black and silent.
16 notes · View notes
punksarahreese · 4 years
Text
Letters | A Chance Meeting (Twice Over)
Nosdecember day 12 | @neworleansspecial
Teen!au; Sarah and Ava’s struggle to keep in contact
CW: narcissistic abuse, gaslighting, need-panic and PTSD themes from said abuse, drug/alcohol/gambling mention, homophobia
***
Ava,
I know I haven’t answered your texts in a while. By the time you get this it will probably be a couple weeks since I last messaged. I promise I would never ignore you, what happened is out of my control.
Mom and her boyfriend broke up. Since then, she’s been adamant that we forget our trip ever happened. She threw out all our things from South Africa already, including the t-shirts we bought together. She said I can’t text you anymore.
It’s not fair, I know. I tried for a couple weeks to keep in contact through messages, I didn’t want to worry you, but she found out. She takes my phone at night now, she reads all my texts. I’m sorry, Ava; I don’t want to ignore you, I promise.
If this letter gets to you, send one back if you wanna. My friend said you can mail things to her address, she won’t open them, just so my mother doesn’t take them from me. I’ve attached the address and her name too, if you wanna write me back. I understand if you’re upset with me, just know I didn’t mean to cut you off.
I miss you,
Sarah
Sarah did her best to be subtle as she crept down the stairs, purple envelope burning a hole in her pocket. She hoped her mother was asleep so she wouldn’t have to answer any questions. She did have an alibi in mind though, her school bag hanging over one shoulder and library card on the lanyard around her neck. She had long since mastered the art of lying to get out of her mother’s manipulation, which Sarah feared would progress to her becoming a narcissistic liar like the woman who raised her. Still, that was a worry for future Sarah; right now she just wanted to get to the post office.
Luckily she had been asleep, wine glass abandoned on the kitchen counter and ¼ of a bottle left beside the couch. Sarah didn’t want to think about what kind of a mood she would be in when she got back. The drinking wasn’t always a problem, it came and went as boyfriends left or she lost jobs due to her unaddressed issues. Sometimes it was too much wine, other times she turned to marijuana or spending rent money on scratch lottery tickets. Sarah never knew which one of her mother’s coping mechanisms would appear during an episode, she just knew better than to mention it when it happened. The narcissism never left though, that was something Sarah had been accustomed to since before her dad even left the picture.
Nevertheless, she made it out of the house and to the post office. 30 minutes later, Sarah had mailed her letter, though she did have to pay a bit of a ridiculous fee to mail it where she wanted. That was another feat that made her painfully aware of the distance between her and the best friend she hadn’t seen for months.
Three weeks after that, Sarah’s friend pulled her aside at lunch. She pressed a cream coloured envelope into her hand, not saying a word but giving her a soft smile. Sarah didn’t open the letter until she was on the bus ride home, but the fact that Ava had actually responded to her had the other girl giddy all day.
The replying letter was longer than Sarah expected, two pages of Ava saying she was so glad to hear from her. Ava was sorry that Sarah’s mother was being so cruel, stating that she wished things could be different. What got Sarah the most was the lilac scent wafting from the paper, Ava’s favourite perfume. Of course Ava would be the kind of person to spritz her stationary with her signature scent, just as much as she was the person to fold her letter into threes and seal it with a little anatomical heart sticker. It was the little things like that that made Sarah miss her even more, the little quirks that she would always associate with the other girl.
This started a bit of a routine. The letters took about a week to get to Ava and hers took a bit longer to make it to the US, for whatever reason. Their communication was not the greatest, slower and less frequent than either would like, but they made it work for a while. There was one day that Sarah’s friend, their in-between for correspondence, dragged her to her locker. She gave Sarah a teasing look when she passed her the small package along with a letter, saying that her mom had been confused about the mail since it was less conspicuous than usual. Still, it made Sarah’s day and she spent her afternoon in the corner of the library, going over Ava’s words.
The gift had been a dainty silver necklace, the charm attached to it making Sarah smile widely. It was a dopamine molecule, a neurotransmitter responsible for feelings of love. It was also appropriate because a lack of dopamine causes anxiety, which they both knew plagued Sarah greatly. While cheesy, the gift was so Ava and it was the first gift Sarah had received in a while. It made Sarah’s heart ache as much as it made her happy; what she wouldn’t give to hug her best friend at that point.
After putting the necklace on, she reread the letter. There was one portion that made her want to cry, to drop everything and figure out how to book a flight to South Africa even as a minor.
You’re always on my mind Sarah, as much as I’m embarrassed to admit it. Even though we’ve only spent two weeks in person together, I think you might be my favourite person. These last few months of letters have been a blessing and a curse. I miss your voice, your laugh, and I miss staying up until 4 AM just to talk to you. I miss you more than I thought I would and I’m so sorry things turned out this way. If I could, I would bring you here to live with me in a heartbeat. Forget parents and manipulation, you don’t deserve this. I’m worried, Sarah, You’re so far away and I don’t want to lose you. I know it's childish of me to say, but I just want to run away with you.
That, paired with the love signoff etched into the sweet, lilac scented paper, was enough to make Sarah weep. Ava cared about her, a lot, and Sarah couldn’t properly convey how important that was to her. She hadn’t felt truly loved in God knows how long, so the fact that she was so far away from and so cut off from the one person who made her feel special was so frustrating.
She read Ava’s letters over whenever she had bad days. It was her escape from her mother’s constant manipulation and gaslighting; a reminder that someone out there did love Sarah. She let herself get lost in Ava’s words, the scent of her perfume, and the feeling of her necklace under her fingertips. It wasn’t the same, it didn’t heal her like a hug would have, but it was enough in the moment. She didn’t want to admit how many times she had cried over those letters, though the tearstained paper would be indicative enough. She missed Ava so much and she so badly needed to hear her voice, just one more time. Hearing her speak those words, the promises she made, in that low accented tone would have been Sarah’s breaking point. Still, it was the one thing she wanted more than anything.
They exchanged letters for almost six months, to the point where they had their respective postal systems memorized. Over those months, despite everything, they even became closer. At some point, Ava admitted she had feelings for Sarah. Her letter was filled with apologies and promises that it shouldn’t ruin their friendship. Sarah wrote back and shyly admitted her own feelings, in an emotional note that ended up being smudged from tears. They weren’t dating, they never actually said that explicitly, but they knew they loved each other. The contact was so hard, it strained their relationship so much, but it was what both girls needed. As time went on Ava had no qualms with saying she loved her and every time Sarah read those words she felt her heart swell. Ava loved her, she really did. It made Sarah feel like the luckiest girl in the world, as cheesy as it was.
Sarah had just returned home from school, another envelope tucked carefully into her day planner, when her world flipped upside down. Her mother was in her room, reeking of alcohol, and she had Sarah’s hidden shoebox on the bed. All of Ava’s letters had been saved in that box, tucked away in the back of her closet so she could reread them when she needed to feel loved. The letters were strewn across the floor, some ripped to shreds already, and Sarah felt her heart drop.
“What did I say?” Her mother’s bleary eyes focused on her angrily, “Why do you think you can disobey me like this?”
“Mom, please-”
“No, Sarah,” the letter she had in her hands was tossed at her feet, “I don’t need any excuses. You think you own this house and my rules don’t matter? You’re planning to leave me, aren’t you? You’re going to run away to that little bitch and leave me. Just like your father did.”
Sarah was already crying, shaking with panic because it was all too much. Her letters were almost all destroyed, her mother’s anger palpable. It didn’t matter that Sarah knew she was drunk, it didn’t matter that her brain was telling her she was being manipulative and gaslighting her again. Her words stung regardless, the weight of everything crashing down on her. Sarah couldn’t breathe, was already flinching away from the woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally. Her brain was screaming at her to run but all she could do was sob out apologies because fleeing wasn’t an option.
“You’re just as bad as he is, as bad as all of them. You all want to hurt me, after all I’ve done for you? How ungrateful are you, Sarah Reese? Do you even love your mother?”
The fighting went on for what felt like hours. Sarah was beyond terrified, panic overrunning her system as she took every insult and lie her mother threw at her. She watched as she ripped up the remaining letters, tipped Sarah’s backpack upside down and found the one she hadn't even had a chance to read yet. She followed after her begging as she took the scraps of paper to the woodstove in their old kitchen, trying to reason with her even though there was no point. Her mother just sneered at her as she tossed the papers into the fire, shoving them under the burning kindling with the poker.
“Your phone and laptop are mine,” her words were hissed out, “You don’t leave this house for anything but school. That friend of yours who helped you send those disgusting letters? You will never speak to her again, you hear me?”
“Mom,” Sarah sobbed, “Don’t do this to me.”
“Sarah, I’m trying to help you. You don’t need them, none of them are your friends; they will only hurt you. That little Ava bitch doesn’t love you. No one loves you but me, baby; they all lie.”
Sarah’s stomach turned at that, wanting to throw up and scream at the same time. She shook her head fiercely, Ava did love her. She did, she told Sarah so.
“Mom, I love her,” she whispered brokenly, “Please. This isn’t me trying to hurt you. I love her and she says she loves me too.”
“Baby, no. You’re sick; this isn’t okay. You may think this gay thing is normal and okay but it’s not. It’s ruining my little girl and I won’t stand for it. You will stay here with me and that is final, you understand?”
The pet names were said in a sickeningly sweet way and Sarah knew she would never win in this argument. Her mother’s word was law and Sarah had to accept that. She would have to obey or she would get sent to yet another summer camp trying to brainwash her into liking men. The mood change was evidently another manipulation tactic, to make Sarah believe her mother was the only one who did love her. The cutting her off from everyone was one too, it was the same reason Sarah wasn’t allowed to have a job. She had to be completely dependent on her mother; that way she could never run away. It was horrible, made Sarah feel like a prisoner in her own home, but at the same time she was used to it. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t know how she would cope with this anymore.
“Go to your room, Sarah. We’re not speaking of this any longer.”
Sarah rushed back to her room, which was still an absolute disaster. Her things were overturned and broken, her clothes torn out of the dresser and her mattress half off the bed frame. All she could do was sob as she collapsed onto the floor, shaking like a leaf. She didn’t know how to calm down, didn’t know what would happen now. She needed Ava, she needed to hear her voice. Her brain was overrun with her mother’s words, the claim that Ava would never love her and that Sarah’s love was in some way disgusting. She just needed to hear her say it out loud, to promise that she did care about Sarah and her mother was lying.
It was all lies; everything was a lie. Sarah didn’t know what to believe anymore. All she knew was she was suffocating and she couldn’t live like this anymore; not without the girl she loved.
12 notes · View notes
emgkheadcannons · 4 years
Text
So accidentally read this ask wrong from @positivecorrelation, and thought it was about them ending their beef, went with that, and wrote everything below this. I just rechecked the ask and realised what you were asking for. I will make it work.
I don’t have a set headcanon on how they make up, but one of my favorite ideas is that Cassie, and Hailie team up to end the feud. So I started writing an entire fic, but I really wanted to post this so here is the headcanon and most of the fic.
Cassie convinces MGK to apologise to Hailie, not her dad, since he wronged her first. She does it with perfect little kid logic, and Kelly wants to not only be a good dad but also a good example for his daughter, so he apologises to Hailie.
Hailie would be really happy she received an apology, and would decide that if a 9 year old can convince her dad to apologise, maybe together, and with a little outside help, they can get this feud to end.
This takes place sometime late February 2019.
Cassie hated that her dad was in a feud with Eminem. A lot of people are being mean, harassing him when he goes out, and booing him when he does ‘Rap Devil’. She has noticed that her dad isn’t as happy, and is acting different. He is sleeping more and more.
Cassie had an idea to help him though. If her dad apologises to Eminem’s daughter then that should make things better, not perfect, but it was a starting point. First she needs to find her dad, so she can convince him that he needs to apologise to hailie. She finds him easily enough in the living room, working on a song.
She starts by asking about the beef, and why they are fighting. Then she asked if he apologized, which she knows he did, but to the wrong person.
“But dad, but your tweet was about his daughter, not him. Shouldn’t you have apologized to Hailie instead?” Cassie asks.
Kelly freezes, thinking about what his daughter said. His tweet was about Hailie. She was the one he insulted, but he tried to apologize to Eminem. He never thought about how his comment affected her. If some kid had said something rude to his daughter, he would expect them to apologize to her.
“You’re right Cassie. I should have apologized to Hailie.”
“Then why don’t you? I bet she would appreciate it.”
“It’s a little too late for that now, pumpkin.”
“It’s never too late to say you’re sorry.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“No it’s not. You made a mistake, you acknowledged you made a mistake, now you just need to tell her you're sorry, and that you won’t do it again. See simple.”
“You are right again, sugar bean. How did you get so smart?” Kelly asks as he scoops his daughter up, as she breaks out into a fit of giggles.
Later that night, after he has put Cassie to bed, Kelly thinks about what she said. He really should apologize to Hailie for his tweet, but how could he get in contact with her. It’s not like Eminem, or anyone close to her will help him, and a public apology will look like a copout after all the feuding he and Em have done.
“Fuck. I can’t set a bad example for Cassie.”
He scrolls through his contacts on his phone, until he sees Travis Barker’s name. ‘Maybe he can give me some advice.’ He checks the clock; it was only 10:30, Travis should still be up.
After two rings he picks up
“Hey Kelly. What’s up?”
“Do you know a way I can get in touch with Eminem’s daughter Hailie?”
“Why do you want to get in contact with Hailie Scott?” Travis asks threateningly.
“I just want to apologise to her, nothing else. My daughter was asking about my feud with Eminem, and asked why I apologised to him, and not Hailie, since it was Hailie I tweeted about. I thought about what she said and it’s a good point. I wronged Hailie, therefore I need to apologise to Hailie, but I have no idea how.”
“So why call me?”
“For advice.”
“Okay. Let’s think. You could try DMing her”
“I highly doubt she would read a DM from me, if she hasn’t out right blocked me on everything.”
“Right. No one will probably give you her phone number. So maybe write her a letter.”
“A letter really. Even if I do write her a letter, I don’t have an address to send it to.”
“I can actually help with that. You just write the letter. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Okay, a letter it is.”
“Oh and Kelly, you better be telling the truth about this. I don’t mind helping you, but if this is just a way to get to Eminem by using Hailie, or something like that, I will personally drive your career into the ground.”
“Don’t worry Travis I am serious about this. I’ll leave the envelope unsealed so you can read it before it’s sent off.”
“Okay. Call me when you’re done.”
Kelly puts his phone down, grabs pen and paper, and starts drafting his letter.
It’s harder than he thought it would. Swallowing his pride, admitting his faults, and humbling himself is hard, but he finally does, and the letter shows his regret for his actions. Now he just has to find that nice stationary someone gifted him.
******
Hailie was sick and tired of all the attention she has been getting from her dad’s feud with Machine Gun Kelly. She prefers the quiet life she was making for herself, but now she barely got a moment of peace. What makes it even worse is that she has never seen her dad so angry, worrying that things will escalate beyond diss tracks and insults. Hailey doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her dad, because he feels obligated to defend her honor.
She knows her father’s beef with MGK isn’t just about the tweet Kelly posted back in 2012 about her being hot when she was 16, (Kelly says he didn’t know how old she was at the time), and that it was more about how disrespectful MGK was to her dad, saying he was better than her dad, and claiming how Eminem was hindering his career, banning him from Shade 45, and whatnot, but she was tired of this shit. Yeah MGK was a prideful idiot, who was full of himself, but her dad did block him from Shade 45, and some of his friends have decided not to associate with Kelly. When Kelly really did try to talk to Eminem in private, and end their feud, he threw it back in the blonds face, making Machine Gun Kelly double down, and release that diss track, ‘Rap Devil’. Her dad then destroyed him with ‘Killshot’.
While going through her mail, she notices a letter. She couldn’t think of who would send her a letter. Maybe it was a former classmate, or a thank you card. Shrugging she opens the envelope, and pulls out the paper inside.
The letter read,
Hailie,
I am sorry for the tweet I posted in 2012 about you being ‘sexy as fuck’, making you uncomfortable, and for apologising to your dad instead of you.
When I posted the tweet I didn’t know you were only sixteen, and when I found out your age I should have taken it down immediately, and apologized to you, but I didn’t. Instead I made a half assed apology to your dad, who I should have apologised to anyway, but for a different reason.
My daughter helped me see my mistakes, and convinced me that it’s not too late to apologise for what I did. I am going to set a better example for her. I have deleted the tweet, and I promise to never do something like that again. I will make a public apology, if that helps you, or if there is something else you need me to do, please tell me. I want to make up for what I did to you.
I was wrong for what I did, and what you had to deal with because of my actions.
I know I don’t deserve it, and that you in no shape or form have to give it to me, but I would like to ask for your forgiveness.
Sincerely,
Colson Baker, (A.K.A. Machine Gun Kelly)
Hailie was shocked. Machine Gun Kelly sent her a handwritten letter, to apologise for something he did years ago. No one else who had targeted and dissed her has ever apologised to her. Her dad sure, but never her. She rereads it just to make sure.
She opens up twitter, and the tweet is gone. Looking back at the letter, Hailie smiles. Maybe Machine Gun Kelly wasn’t as bad as she thought. She did want to know how he got her address though.
Going back to her phone, she reopens twitter, and goes to Machine Gun Kelly’s profile. She unblocks him, before opening her DMs.
I got your letter. How did you get my address? - Hailie
A few minutes later she got a reply.
I’m glad you got my letter. Don’t worry I don’t have your address. I gave the letter to Travis Barker. He’s the one who got a hold of your address. - MGK
Hailie frowns at her phone. Who was Travis Barker? His name sounds familiar. After a quick google search, she sees he is the drummer for Blink-182, and that he probably got it from Paul Rosenberg. Okay that made her feel better. Going back to twitter, she sees that she has a new message.
Would you mind if I told my daughter that you got my apology letter? - MGK
Hailie thinks about it before typing her reply.
Yeah, go ahead, I don’t mind if you tell her. This doesn’t mean that I forgive you though. - Hailie
I understand, and thank you. Again I am sorry for my tweet, and dragging you into this beef. - MGK
Hailie doesn’t respond. She debates whether or not to reblock MGK, but decides against it. He really did seem remorseful for what he did, and is trying to change to be better for his daughter. That gets Hailie thinking, if Machine Gun Kelly’s daughter can convince him that he needs to apologize to her, and not her dad, then maybe together they can get their dad’s to stop fighting.
Hailie has a plan to end this stupid feud, get her dad from being so angry all the time, and hopefully get her peaceful life back. She will need Cassie’s help, and a few other people too, for this to work. First thing she does is call up Paul Rosenberg.
“This is Paul.”
“Hey, Paul this is Hailie. Do you have a second?”
“Sure. What can I do for you?”
“First are you with my dad.”
“No. Should I be?”
“No, it’s better if he isn’t around for this. Did you give my address to Travis Barker?”
“No, he gave me the letter to mail. I didn’t read it though. He said it was something important, and asked me not to read it. Is everything okay? Was there something in there I should Know about?”
“The letter was important, and you did the right thing trusting him. I just wanted to know how he got my address.”
“Okay, I’m glad my judgement was good, but this has me a little worried. Will you tell me what the letter was about?”
Hailie debates whether or not to tell him. On one hand the letter was an apology to her, she doesn’t have to tell anyone about it. On the other hand, if she tells Paul nothing, he might tell her dad about it in concern, which would ruin her plans. She makes her decision.
“It was a handwritten apology letter from Machine Gun Kelly.”
There is a moment of silence before Paul responds. “WHAT!”
“You heard me. He apologized for the tweet he posted about me, making me uncomfortable, apologising to my dad instead of me, and for dragging me into this stupid feud. He even deleted the tweet.”
Hailie can hear Paul tapping on his phone, probably checking to see if it was really deleted. “Damn, he really did delete it. Do you know what brought this on?”
“Yeah, his daughter.”
“Okay, makes sense.”
“So you know how you have been trying to get my dad to end this feud with him, well this gave me an idea. I just need to know if you are in.”
“I’m listening.”
“If Cassie can change her dad’s mind, then I should be able to do the same with my dad, right? Right. So I need you to do a couple of things. I need a way to get in contact with Cassie, and her mom. I will also need you to back me up later on.”
“Okay I can probably get in touch with Cassie, and her mom. Give me a few days. And I will back you up but I will need more details.”
“I will tell you the details later. I need to make a few more calls.
Next people she recruits are Alaina and Whitney. They have noticed how agitated Eminem has been lately, and agree to help with her plan. He also ropes in Travis Barker, Tommy Lee and Elton John, to help them too.
Paul came through with Emma’s, Cassie’s mom, phone number, and an understanding that Emma will listen to her idea, but she decides if Cassie is involved.
Hailie explains her plan. She and Cassie were going to convince their dad’s to meet, in hopes of ending the beef. Colson already tried once, but Em turned it down. This is where Cassie came in. She needed to convince her dad that he should try again, that he should take the higher ground, and be the better person. You know, set a good example. Emma can help with this too. Hailie has the harder job of convincing her dad to do the same. That he has defended her, and should talk with MGK. Once they have convinced both men to meet, they will have to pick a date that works for everybody. They will have Paul, Travis, Elton, and of course Hailie and Cassie, there when the two meet. Hopefully having both of their daughters there will keep things civil long enough to get something done. Paul hopes a collaboration comes out of it, but Hailie and Cassie just want their dads to be happy again.
******
Over the next few weeks Hailie e-mailed, Cassie and Emma,over how to get the two rappers to end their feud.
******
Hailie, Whitney, and Alaina have been dropping hints, and saying things, about ending arguments, burning the hatchet, and letting bygones be bygones. Em is really proud of his girls, being so mature, but fails to get the hints. Whitney even stages a fight with a friend, with an epic apology, but it still goes over Em’s head.
Now it is time for Hailie to confront her dad on his feud.
She has made it this far, there’s no turning back now. Hailie straightens her back, squares her shoulder, and walks into her dad’s office determined. Her dad looks up from some papers and smiles. It’s nice to see him smile.
“Hey Hailie.”
“Hey dad.”
“What brings you over? Not that I’m not glad to see you, it’s just you have been busy lately.”
“I came to talk to you. It’s about your feud with Machine Gun Kelly.”
The smile falls off Eminem’s face and his eyes harden. “You don’t need to worry about that son of a bitch. I’ll take care of him.” He stands up and heads over to the window.
Hailie takes a deep breath. “No dad. It was me he tweeted about. Everything has gotten out of control, and I have now been dragged into your stupid feud.”
Em turns around. “I know sweetie, and I’m sorry for that, but don’t worry I am crushing that blond asshole. His career is practically over.”
“Dad, that's not okay. Yeah, he is an asshole, and he deserved to be knocked down a few pegs, but this is overkill.”
“Hailie, this is my business. What I do…” Em didn’t get to finish her sentence.
“No, this isn’t just your business. It’s mine too, and I get a say in what happens. Machine Gun Kelly wrote me a letter…” Hailie didn’t get to finish what
“HE FUCKING CONTACTED YOU. I’M GOING TO KILL HIM. THAT STALKING SON OF A…” Em yells, as he heads for the door. Hailie steps in front of him, blocking the exit.
“No you're not. Now calm down. We are going to finish this conversation.”
“Hailie Jade Scott Mathers you better move out of my way.”
“No dad. I am a full grown woman, not a little girl anymore, and you are going to listen to what I have to say. Yes he wrote me a letter. He did it to apologise for what he did. The tweet, the feud, everything. Do you know how many other people have apologised to me for stuff they said? Have expressed regret for what they did to me? Not how many regret having to deal with you, but feel bad for what they did to me.”
Eminem thinks for a second, but doesn’t respond. Hailie continues.
“None. That’s how many. Everyone says sorry to you, not me. He is the only one. He admitted that he should have given me an apology for the comment, and even though it is years late, he still said sorry. Even after this whole feud, ‘Killshot’, and everyone hating him, Colson Baker is a big enough man to admit when he is wrong.”
“Just because he said ‘sorry’ doesn’t mean…”
“No dad, he didn’t just say ‘sorry’, he swallowed his pride, took responsibility for it, deleted the tweet, asked what he could do to make it up to me, and asked for my forgiveness. He wants to be a better role model for his own daughter. Here, read it for yourself.” Hailie hands him the letter, and waits while he reads it.
Em reads the letter. The kid really did set his pride aside and ask for his daughter forgiveness. He rereads the letter just to make sure he read it right, and he did. He was still unbelievably pissed that Machine Gun Kelly was somehow able to get to Hailie, but after reading the letter he doesn’t want to kill the blond idiot anymore.
“Okay he apologized to you, what do you want me to do? Just let him get away with running his mouth?”
“You have already won. He admitted that he couldn’t respond to ‘Killshot’. He tried to contact you more than once to end it but you said no. What I want is for you to be like Machine Gun Kelly, swallow your pride and set a better example for Alaina, Whitney, and I, and at least meet with him, so this stupid feud can end.” Hailie says as she holds her dad’s satire.
Em looks away, and sighs. “I don’t really have a choice in this so I?”
“You do have a choice. You can be an adult and meet with him, or you can be petty, and Alaina, Whitney, Paul, Fifty, Royce, Elton, Dre, and I will be disappointed in you.”
“Of course you got everyone to back you up. Fuck! Fine, I will meet with him, but I am making no promises about ”
Hailie relaxes. She will take it. For all intents and purposes, her dad has agreed, and she is tired, but she has a sense of accomplishment.
“Thanks dad. I’ll have Paul arrange the meeting.” She turns to leave.
“Hey, Heilie.”
“Yeah,dad.”
She turns back around, and her dad has wrapped her up in a big hug. She returns it immediately, and stands there for a moment. When they finally break apart Em asks her, “When did you get so smart, Jelly bean?”
“I don’t know dad. I musta learned it from you.”
******
The day of the meeting happens. They are in a studio in LA. It’s a neutral location. Paul, Elton, and Travis are sitting in the room waiting on the others to arrive.
“So, do you think this will actually work?” Travis asks.
“I don’t know darling, but hopefully with their daughters here it will be civil.” Elton replies as he crosses his ankles.
A few minutes later Eminem shows up with Hailie, and he looks put out. “Alright where is the blond fucker?”
“Marshall! I hope you don’t plan on using that kind of language today. Colson is bringing his daughter, and she is only 9.” Elton scolds. Em sighs knowing better than to argue with Uncle Elton about this kind of thing, even though he is pretty sure that she has heard worse from her own dad. He slumps into a chair between Paul and Hailie, already feeling done with the day and this meeting.
Kelly walks in with Cassie on his shoulders, and she is just chatting away, and Kelly is listening to every word she says. He sets her down in one chair, and takes the one between her and Travis.
“Hi Cassie.” Hailie greets.
“Hi Hailie.” Cassie says with a wave.
Em looks between his and Kelly’s daughters, and then it clicks.
“Fuuuuc-dge, fudge knuckles.” Em has to correct himself remembering that there is a literal child present. Hailie and Travis are snickering. At least Paul and Elton are trying to hide their amusement at his outburst. Em looks over at Kelly who gives him a look saying ‘yeah me too’.
“Our daughters played us.” Em says.
“Yep they teamed up to gang up on us.” Kelly says as he nods in agreement.
Neither rapper speaks, and the silence gets heavier with each passing moment.
“Let’s get this over with.” Em says with a sigh. “Everyone else out. This is between Machine Gun Kelly and me.”
Everyone but Kelly and Cassie begin to protest. Cassie decides to take action. She nudges her dad in the side with her elbow, and whispers in his ear, “Remember Dad be the bigger person.”
“Thanks pumpkin.” He whispers back, gives her a hug. She then grabs hailies hand, and heads for the door. The others follow suit, until it’s just Em and Kelly in the room.
“I’m sorry for tweeting about your daughter. I’m sorry for those things I said about you trying to interfere with my career, and I'm sorry for the other awful things I said about you. I really didn’t mean for that tweet to be rude, but I now see how it looks.”
“Did you fucking practise.”
Kells scratches the back of his head, breaking eye contact, looking down, at the ground. “Yeah with my daughter.” He mumbles out.
“Why did you post that tweet about Hailie?”
“To be honest, I thought she looked hot in it, but I didn’t know how old she was. When I found out how old she was I was disgusted with myself, but didn’t know what to do.”
“Okay fine I can understand that you didn’t know her age before commenting, but it was still shitty.”
“I Know.”
“Don’t ever do it again.”
Kelly looks up meeting Em’s Glare. “I won’t.”
Em takes pity on him, seeing that he is being sincere.
“I’m sorry too, kid. I’m sorry I banned you from Shade 45, talked shit about you, and called you a mumble rapper. You’re not.”
“Thank you.” A soft smile appears on Kelly’s face. Em can’t help but think it looks good on the blond.
Em can’t help but smirk. He was going to have fun picking on Kelly. “Am I really your idol?”
Kelly goes pink, and looks away. “Shut-up.”
“Oh no. You really looked up to me didn’t you? You wanted to be just like me. I bet you had all my albums, and posters of me.”
“Yeah but they always say never meet your heroes.” Kelly freezes, not meaning to say that out loud, making Em stop. Yeah Kelly did look up to him. Kelly really didn’t do anything, beside the tweet. Em did hinder his career, and was an ass to him, but the entire time they were feuding, Kelly still said he looked up to him.
“Look I’m sorry I was an ass to you. You just wanted recognition from me. Instead I dissed you, called you a mumble rapper. You tried to end this multiple times, and I didn’t want to hear it.”
Kelly is still blushing but he is looking at Em again.
“Your lyrics aren’t half bad either.”
The blond lights up. “Really?”
“Yes, need some work but they are pretty good.”
“Thank you.”
They sit there again not knowing what to do. Then Kelly pipes up. “So does that mean our feud is over?”
“Yeah it’s over.”
“What do we do now.”
“N
Em grabs his phone and texts Paul. Next thing they know Paul walks in. “Now that that is out of the way, we can call this beef over. I will set something up for the press.”
The details are hashed out. Kelly is going to open up for Em later this year, and neither one is going to sing their diss tracks of each other. Kelly does get to keep the moniker ‘Rap Devil’, to Paul’s disdain. Em thinks it’s funny (read cute).
Everyone parts ways.
Hailie links with her dad’s arm as they go down the hallway.
“The way you were picking on him, almost felt like you were doing it to get his attention.”
Em blushes as the statement.
“OMG you do think he is cute, that’s why you don’t want to give up this beef.”
“No I don’t. He’s an asshole who needed to be taught a lesson.”
“Okay Dad whatever you say.”
She hurries on head, but turns and gives her dad a wink. A new plan in mind.
25 notes · View notes