#Matthew Bone

[macaulaytwins]

they are all patron saints TO ME

[ludinusdaleth]

no matter how obsessed i am with ludinus i will never be as obsessed as matt is

(ludinus mini close up shots here)

[ultravionna]

matt dillon. 80s & 90s magazine covers.

no because he was really eating the girlies up back then. like the category is face mr dillon WERK!

[ericshoney]

Hockey injury ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your brothers are home in Boston to see you play ice hockey for your school team and also take you to the hospital to get patched up.

Warnings: swearing, shouting, crying, injuries, broken bones, nicknames, fluff

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Today was a big game for the season. Your school was close to being champions and had to win tonight in order to win. Everyone was anxious about the game and when you saw Nick, Matt and Chris arrive in the stands you couldn't help but smile wide. You rushed over to them, hugging them tightly.

"Hey kiddo." Nick called.

"Hey! You made it!" You cheered.

"Of course, petal, this is a big game for you." Matt said.

"Now go out there and crush the other school!" Chris shouted, getting shhhed by Nick.

"You can't say that about teenage girls!" The eldest responded.

"Try your best and have fun." Matt replied.

"You sound like mum." You said with a giggle.

"Kick ass but within the rules." Nick said.

You laughed and nodded, heading down to the ice. You got your skates on and warmed up a bit with your teammates. You checked out the other team, seeing they looked determined, but so were you.

The game soon began, the first whistle being blown. You skated quickly, passing the puck with ease and it soon added up as your team was three points to none.

You never celebrated early, knowing it could all change and by the third quarter, both teams were tied. The whistle then went for the end of the third quarter and you skated over to your coach.

"Alright girls, we can do this, it's for the title, to become champions. I want you to give it your all now!" She shouted.

Everyone cheered and you looked over to where Nick, Matt and Chris were. They gave you a wave, making you smile.

The fourth and final quarter now began. You got tackled by another player, crashing into the wall. You groaned as you knew it would bruise, but continued on.

The final seconds were counting down and you had the puck. You hit it hard, it flying across the ice into the goal, the buzzer going at the same time as the whistle but also you crashing to the floor.

You screamed as you felt and heard a loud snap. You looked over and saw a girl from the other team being shouted at by the ref. She clearly had pulled an illegal move. You looked at your arm and knew it was broken instantly.

A couple of your teammates carefully carried you off the ice and helped you take your skates and helmet off, just as your brothers came rushing over. They frowned seeing your teary face.

"Oh kiddo." Chris cooed.

The three came and stood with you as a medic checked you, but as you cried out when they touched your arm, they knew it was broken too. The guys rushed you too the car, Nick helping to hold you as you cried.

Matt broke every speeding limit to get you to the hospital and when you arrived, got you inside quickly. As you were in so much pain and could tell it was visibly broken, you got seen quickly.

After having the x-ray and being assessed, finding out your arm was broken in two places, you got to pick your cast. You picked your favourite colour and eventually returned to Nick, Matt and Chris who were in the waiting room, Nick on the phone.

"Yeah mum, we're coming home soon. Oh wait she's just been let out. I'll pass the phone over." He said.

You took the phone with your non-broken arm and sighed as you heard your mum's voice.

"Oh honey, what happened?" She asked.

"I'll explain everything at home mum, but my arm is broken in two places." You answered

"Okay honey, drive safe." She replied before hanging up.

You passed the phone to Nick as the trio looked at you. They gave you comforting smiles.

"Let's go home, sweetheart." Nick said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"The positive thing here, kid, is that your team won." Chris said.

You laughed softly as you all got in the car, you resting your head on Nick's shoulder, feeling tired and in pain as you drove home.

[tys-kitty]

What finishing Clockwork Angel, Chain of Iron, City of Bones and the Queen of Air and Darkness as a Shadowhunter fan looks like

[lagrith]

they need to stop making hot cannibal characters or i’ll go crazy i swear

[clubartaesthetic]

Magnus is me when I see Alec

[creaturecannibal]

they are going to eat you

[kashilascorner]

for @queer-ragnelle May Day Parade. May 17-21: Grumpy Month of Kay {Seneschal Celebration}

I have been here since before you became yourself: a collection of Kays (and Arthurs)

Chulhwch and Olwen / Camelot (2011) ep. 1 / Vulgate Cycle: The Story of Merlin / La Morte D'Arthur (Sir Thomas Malory) / The Once and Future King, book 1 The Sword in the Stone (TH White) / Sir Kay's coat of arms / Matthew 16:19 / Under cover of darkness (The Strokes) / Arthur of the Britons (1972) ep. 3 / Vulgate Cycle / Camelot (2011) / Icarus (The Crane Wives) / Idylls of the queen (Phyllis Ann Karr) / Hey Brother (Aviicii) / The High History of the Holy Graal (aka Perlesvaus), trans. Sebastian Evans / Camelot (2011) / Alliterative Morte Arthure, trans. Richard Scott-Robinson / Icarus (The Crane Wives)

[fassbendersflwer]

You like any of these people? Be my mutual 🧍🏻‍♀️

[flzrencent]

matthew sturniolo ,, bones and all au

! warnings ! ; mdni. if you're unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino i'd advise you not to proceed. blood, lots of it. light gore, but gore nonetheless. cannibalism as a metaphor (or form) of love. heavily based on the acts in the movie bones&all, but you could probably read it without needing to watch the movie. violence. mature themes.

authors note ; sooo basically i've litch never posted on this app. like at all. it took me embarrassingly long to figure out how to use it! i haven't seen this type of fic on here, and im a little iffy on how it'll be perceived and a little concerned about hate on the first post considering the plots insane nature, but i loved the movie bones and all so much and i cannot stop thinking about it, so naturally i had to write something about it and who better to write about than matt! summary ; A life lived under the careful eye of those around her, a carnal urge suppressed, and Matthew Sturniolo — the boy who'd taught her how to love without consuming them all.

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Clean teeth was to be a privilege. Just one bite, and they stain forever.

Eaters; a state of cannibalism, not acquired, but passed down to at birth. The all-consuming, overwhelming urges to consume flesh broken down and seeping into every part of the brain. The only ever growing hunger, the need to eat, to feed.

Skin to skin, layers of it ripped and shredded beneath sharpened teeth and frantic claws, all in which disguised as one amongst all.

Hidden in plain sight is how she lived the first 17 years of her life, and it is how she would live till death.

Her fingers tapped rapidly, nerves at the tips tingling with each bounce of her leg. Her jaw clenched with restraint. It had been a year without an incident, her father told her this morning. He’d like to keep it that way.

She would too, really, it’s her only wish – but, she couldn’t help it.

Saliva pooled in her mouth, quick swallows pushing the thirst down. The dull voice of the teacher talking was drowned through the ringing in her ears, eyes rapidly flickering across the room. 

And then, with a muffled cough, she quickly gathered her things. The class fell silent, eyes confused and tracing her on her way out, her fingers clutched against the old green cross-body bag, knuckles white and teeth bared.

Red covered the lower half of her face, her lithe body stood guiltily at the doorway as her father rushed around her. The familiar route of packing, his voice shouting, profanities directed at her she couldn’t help but ignore through the ringing playing out stubbornly in her ears.

The sticky feel covered her palms, metallic taste lingering in her mouth as her tongue ran over the crimson stained surface of her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” The repetitive mumble spilled from her lips, pushing its way through the blood. It was useless, apologising. The damage had been done, and they would have to yet again flee without a word and the search for her eventually turning cold. Families left broken, and yet her hunger was found disturbingly satisfied.

Her jeans were old, and if you really looked close enough, drops, which once stained red, littered the ankles where she’d dragged herself from that girl’s home. Maybe it wasn’t her - maybe it was the ones from before - but nowadays, they all blended into one.

Nevertheless, nobody batted an eye, and everything would be okay. 

Almost.

Her head, thoughts like a broken record, jumbled with worries and wishes, and wouldn’t stop racing. 

Okay, that's fine. Maybe no sleep would do her good; a reset, almost.

Boots hit the floor, the ugly squelch of mud beneath her feet with the dim moonlight doing little to guide her. The dirt road was long, and she was yet to find the end, or figure out where exactly she’d set herself to go.

Wails disturbed her peace, frame startled beyond what she’d expected. Her feet halted, body frozen in place whilst her eyes searched for somewhere to go – grasping on nothing but dirt and mulch. Fear was irrational, she realised. What could get worse than her own self? Accustomed to the idea of bravery, faux awareness of safety building herself up to get moving again, she set herself onto the scheme of investigation. Her feet moved swiftly towards the sound, and her breaths dwindled to as small and silent as she could get them. The smell of familiarism halted her once again.

Something she’d sensed before - a similarity she’d only heard about, one she was yet to collide with. Then, a shouted ‘Hey!’ was sent her way, and a boy – seemingly around her age – almost covered head to toe in a darker hue she could distantly recognise in such faint gleam began approaching.

It was carnal, animalistic, almost. It seems most things she did were that way.

Silence engulfed the young as they ate, fulfilling the longing desire that she had been saving in hopes of normalcy, because maybe, just maybe, if she ignored it long enough it would fade.

Her knees were red where they dug into the harsh grounds, the rustling of the leaves in the wind taunting her, howls reminding her of the grief she’d brought, eerily familiar to the last time she feasted, seemingly similarly reminding the boy clawing at the same meal.

With slickened hands, shaking with something she didn’t wish to place (a sense of satisfaction), her eyes hesitantly trailed to who was slumped (Matt, she learnt, the name mumbled uncertainly her way after he’d invited her over), propped up on his hands, legs outstretched before him, and head tilted back with steady huffs of air. Curiously, she gazed on the droplets falling their way down the pale expanse of his neck, possibly for too long, because returning back to now caused the girl to meet his stare.

Was this how they felt looking at her? How her father felt?

“Thank you.”

Her words were muttered uncertainly into the wind. Quietly, as if sharing a secret, as if she hadn’t shown him the most vulnerable state one like them, such a force of evil, could experience. Nevertheless, with someone she had only met for the first time just moments ago.

His gaze was cold, and although she couldn’t quite place exactly where it was in the midst of the darkness, she could feel its intensity; the warmth left where he trailed it.

“You smelled hungry, s’all.” His sultry voice caught her off guard, equally dirty hands coming to rub along his jaw. The sight made her shudder.

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florence ,

first fic hellooooooo?!?!?! i was debating on wether or not i should keep this going so let me know, because i know this typa fic isn't everybody's favourite thing ever so im hoping it reaches the target audience lol

[brokebonewritings]

All My Battles

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: 18+, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, making a home

Summary: A trip back to Bar Harbor creates a summer a new memories as you and Matt renovate your childhood home into a place to spend your future summers. Song: Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley

Word Count: 3K

Navigation || Series Masterlist

“Don’t worry! We will make sure both your apartments are safe and sound!”

“And we promise no major ragers while you’re away!” Foggy quickly said after Karen’s initial reassurance.

“Ha Ha, You’re hilarious.” You say with a deadpan expression.

Both you and Matt were packing for the summer to go up to your childhood home and fill it with your own furniture. Thanks to your wonderful team of attorneys, you were able to expedite the paperwork of signing the house over to your name.

It was a long battle, but your mom was out of the house at the beginning of the summer. Though it didn't come without a fight. She was very slow at moving the process along until you finally sent Foggy up to Maine with eviction papers.

"I just can't believe it's finally over!" You sigh as you close the trunk of your car.

"I'll drink to that, serving your mom that eviction notice was the best theatrics I've seen in a while, and Marci took me to see Phantom of the Opera last week!"

All three of you laugh, as you wait to finish locking up his apartment. You see him step onto the sidewalk and make his way towards the group.

"Okay, ready to go?" He asks.

"Yep, I just closed the trunk so we're all good here."

Karen is the first to step forward and give you both a big hug. Foggy being the last and stepping away with tears in his eyes.

"Don't you forget about us here in the Big Apple." He says tearfully.

"I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow." You respond playfully.

The man wipes his metaphorical tears, and turns to Karen. "She thinks I'm a Scarecrow."

"Yeah, probably the lack of brains." She snarks.

"Hey!"

This earns another group laugh, as you and Matt get into the car. It was going to be a long summer, but it would be worth it. You get to redecorate your family home, even though you thought the previous decoration was perfect. Your mom took most of the furniture when she moved.

As the car pulls out of the city, leaving behind the familiar hustle and bustle, a sense of sadness fills you. "So, any ideas on what we should do with the place?" you asked, eager to hear his thoughts.

"You're asking the blindman for decoration advice?" He smirks, which pulls a giggle from your chest. 

"Well this is gonna be our summer home, so I just want to get an opinion of someone who will be spending every year there."

Matt paused for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee as he contemplated. "Well," he began, "I think we should start by repainting the walls. I know your favorite color is orange."

"You remembered my favorite color?" 

"Of course, maybe a soft shade of blue to give it a more serene atmosphere."

You nodded, imagining how the color would transform the space. "And what about the furniture? I know we'll have to buy new pieces, but do you have any specific style in mind?"

"God, just anything without plastic wrap on it." He laughs.

You laugh along with him. "You really hated sitting on that couch."

"It was an overstimulation nightmare."

"Yeah, well, no more plastic-wrapped nightmares," you reply with a grin. "We'll find something comfortable and stylish."

As the two of you continue to discuss ideas for the house, you feel the excitement building up inside you. This summer was going to be a fresh start, not just in terms of your living situation but also in your relationship with Matt. It had been a long journey to get to this point, but now that you were finally together, everything felt right.

The landscape outside transforms from towering skyscrapers to vast green fields and rolling hills. It's as if the world itself is mirroring the sense of calm and new beginnings you feel in your heart.

With the passing hours, you make sure to stop frequently so that you both stretch your legs. Soon enough you enter the Bar Harbor limits and begin to recognize your surroundings. 

As you approach your childhood home, memories flood back — running through the fields, chasing fireflies on warm summer nights, and sitting on the front porch with your dad and a big cup of iced tea.

The familiar sight of the white picket fence and the old oak tree in the front yard is a relief to see. It hasn't changed much since you were last here, except for the overgrown grass and faded paint on the house. But that's all about to change.

You and Matt step out of the car, taking a moment to breathe in the crisp sea air. The scent of wildflowers and fresh pine brings a smile to your face. This place holds so many precious memories, and now it's time to make new ones.

"I can't believe we're finally here," you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Matt reaches out to take your hand, his touch grounding you in this moment. "Ready to get to work?" He asks and you reply with a soft 'yes'.

Together, you approach the front door, pulling out the key and inserting it into the lock. The door creaks open as you step inside, dust particles dancing in the sunlight streaming through the large bay windows.

As you make your way from room to room, deciding on furniture layouts and discussing which pieces to buy, the house starts to feel like home. Matt's fingers glide over the surfaces as he senses the textures and dimensions, his uncanny ability to visualize the space turning into an invaluable asset.

The next day you and Matt set to work immediately, armed with paintbrushes and a vision for transforming the old house into your dream summer retreat. The walls soon shed their faded colors and come alive with the soft shade of orange you chose. The air is filled with the scent of fresh paint, invigorating and promising.

Days turn into weeks as you tackle each room with determination. The living room is filled with cozy furniture, perfect for curling up together with a book or watching movies on lazy afternoons. The kitchen becomes a vibrant space, adorned with colorful tiles and filled with the aroma of delicious meals being cooked. And the bedrooms become sanctuaries, personalized with photographs and cherished little touches.

As the final touches are being made, you and Matt stand back to admire your handiwork. The transformation is remarkable, a testament to the love and care you poured into this project. The summer home now radiates warmth and comfort, a haven from the outside world.

You begin to cry as you both stand in the middle of the parlor. Matt's arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug. It was all finally done, and you couldn't feel the overwhelming sense of sadness. The very same you felt as you left the city.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I got you." He whispers as you continue to sob.

You hold onto Matt, feeling his steady presence anchoring you amidst the waves of emotion. The tears flow freely, a mixture of relief, joy, and a bittersweet longing for the old memories that haunted these walls. You couldn't wait to bring your friends and family here in the future summers, and make new memories that were happier than the old.

After a while, the tears subside, and you sniffle, wiping away your damp cheeks with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you murmur against his chest.

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face gently. "There's nothing to apologize for," he says softly. 

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "You're right." You pause, feeling a surge of love radiating from the man in front of you.

"We made it," he says softly, his voice filled with reassurance. "We turned this house into our own little sanctuary."

"I love you," you whisper, burying your face in Matt's chest.

He holds you tighter, his heartbeat reverberating through your body. "I love you too," he replies.

That night you decide to have a picnic on the porch. You turn on the fairy lights, and set the radio to the local classic rock station. As you set up outside, Matt was in the kitchen preparing the meal you both were going to enjoy. Everything was perfect.

As twilight settles in, casting a soft golden glow over the porch, you light a few candles and spread out a cozy blanket. The scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the aroma of the meal Matt has prepared, creating an intoxicating symphony for your senses.

After dinner, you both clean and decide to stay outside for the rest of the evening and bask in the romantic setting you had set up. He notes that he forgot to bring the best part of dinner and runs back inside to grab dessert.

Matt emerges from the kitchen, carrying a basket filled with delicious treats. He carefully sets the basket down and joins you on the blanket, wrapping his arm around you.

"This is amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his presence enveloping you. "I wanted to create this special moment for us," you say softly, your gaze fixed on the flickering lights.

The two of you spend the evening laughing and reminiscing, savoring each bite of food and each tender moment shared. As the night deepens, you find yourselves lost in conversation under a sky sprinkled with constellations.

Matt's fingers trace patterns on your arm, creating a soothing rhythm that matches the cadence of your conversation. You pause for a moment, overcome by a wave of gratitude. Gratitude for this beautiful night, for the love that fills your heart, and for the journey that has brought you here. You lean in closer to Matt, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I never imagined we would be here," you say softly, your voice filled with wonder. "Creating a home together, filled with love and happiness."

Matt squeezes your hand gently. "Life has a funny way of surprising us," he replies, his voice laced with sincerity. "And I'm grateful for every twist and turn that led us here."

As the hours pass, you find yourselves lost in conversation, delving into topics ranging from childhood dreams to future aspirations. Each word exchanged deepens your connection, solidifying the bond you've built over the years.

Eventually, the conversation mellows into comfortable silence, yet the electricity in the air remains tangible. You nestle closer to each other under the blanket, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. With every passing second, it becomes clearer that this is where you're meant to be.

You look up at Matt, gently grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. As your lips meet, a surge of warmth courses through your veins. The kiss is gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity, a beautiful reflection of the bond you share. Time seems to stand still as you savor the taste of his lips, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

When the kiss deepens, you feel a sense of belonging and contentment settle within you. Under the soft glow of the moon, you and Matt continue to share sweet, lingering kisses, each one filled with an unspoken promise.

Eventually you both feel the exhaustion from the long work day, and decide to head inside for the night. Matt is the first one to head inside and as you pick up the blanket and turn off the lights on the porch. 

You linger long enough for Matt to come back out and wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your neck lightly. "We have a lifetime of moments like this ahead of us," he says softly. "Come inside now."

Nodding, you follow him back inside for the night. Inside, the house is bathed in a soft, inviting glow. The scent of freshly painted walls lingers in the air, a gentle reminder of the transformation you both undertook together.

Matt leads you upstairs to the bedroom, where the moonlight spills through the open curtains, casting ethereal shadows on the hardwood floor. He pulls back the covers and invites you to slide into bed. You nestle against the plush pillows and feel the weight of the day slowly melt away.

As Matt joins you under the covers, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His touch is gentle yet possessive, a silent affirmation of his love for you. The room feels hushed, as if it holds its breath in reverence for the intimacy shared between two souls.

You close your eyes, letting the tranquility of the moment wash over you. The sound of your steady breaths fills the room, creating a soothing rhythm that lulls you closer to sleep.

The day before you leave is filled with eventful commotion as you invite some of your neighbors over for a small barbecue. You and Matt spend the morning setting up the backyard, draping string lights across the trees and arranging tables and chairs.

The aroma of grilled burgers and vegetables fills the air as the food sizzles on the barbecue. You decided to man the grill to give Matt a break from all the cooking he insisted on doing. The neighbors arrive one by one, carrying dishes to share. Laughter and conversation fill the backyard as everyone gathers around, sharing stories and exchanging smiles.

Another car begins to pull into your driveway, and you realize who it is before you see the two figures step out of the vehicle.

"No fucking way" You say as you turn to Matt who has a huge smile spread across his face.

"I called them last night when you went out to pick up dinner." He replies.

You start sprinting towards the car as Foggy steps out and walks around the car. Once he sees you running, he mutters an 'Oh shit' as you jump into his arms. He catches you and spins you a bit before setting you down. You give a gentler hug to Karen.

"I can't believe you guys drove all the way out here!" You say happily.

"We had to come see this house! Especially if we're invited here every summer." Karen says while lightly nudging your side.

Leading your friends to the picnic area, you introduce them to your neighbors and some old friends from high school. The backyard is filled with the joyful chatter of voices, as everyone embraces the sense of community and love that permeates the atmosphere.

As night falls and everyone leaves, the four of you gather around a crackling bonfire, its dancing flames illuminating the faces around you. Matt sits beside you, his hand entwined with yours, as you listen to Foggy telling one of his infamous stories. You all add in little quips to enhance the story as everyone listens and drinks.

The crackling sound of the flames blends with the soft hum of laughter, creating a harmonious symphony of friendship and love. As you look around at the faces illuminated by the fire's glow, you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Gratitude for the unwavering support of your friends, who have stood by you through thick and thin. Gratitude for this beautiful home that has become a haven, a place of solace and happiness. And most of all, gratitude for the love that surrounds you, weaving its way through every moment shared.

As the night wears on and the fire begins to die down, you find yourself lost in a comfortable silence. The embers glow softly, casting a warm light that dances across your friends' faces. Karen leans her head on Foggy's shoulder, while Matt rests his chin on top of your head.

"What a great night, amongst friends." Foggy sighs.

"I'm really glad you guys came out here to see the house." You begin. "It's like this house was built for our family."

"You wouldn't have this house if it weren't for your dad." Matt reminds and you nod in agreement.

"To Tommy!" Foggy says while raising his beer can.

You smile as the rest of you raise your drinks and cheers to your dad. A tear rolls down your cheek, but Matt wipes it away before it's able to fall from your face.

"You know," Karen says, breaking the silence, "your dad would be so proud of you right now. Look at what you've built, what you've overcome. It's truly amazing."

The moment is bittersweet, as the memory of your father tugs at your heart. It's been years since he passed away, but the house stands as a testament to his hard work and love for his family, a symbol of the legacy he left behind.

As the night winds down, you and your friends gather up the empty beer cans and remnants of the barbecue feast. The fire has dwindled to mere embers, casting a soft glow upon the yard. 

With a final round of goodnights, Foggy and Karen retreat to their respective rooms. You and Matt finish cleaning in the kitchen and make sure everything is put away before you all leave in the morning.

As you climb into bed, exhaustion weighs heavily on your eyelids. Matt wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his embrace soothes you, easing away the worries and stresses of the day.

"Thank you for everything," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tightens his hold on you, his voice filled with affection. "I would do anything for you. You know that."

With a final sigh, you surrender to the gentle embrace of slumber, knowing that tomorrow will bring new adventures and challenges. But for now, in this haven of love and sanctuary, you find solace.

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[imperfect4uu]

hot girls love chris sturniolo ᡣ𐭩

[shipperoffanonships]

Emily: You're such a smartass, you know that? Spencer: Objectively, I'd like to say I'm very smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass.

[holylottie]

Aching bones, aching teeth [02]

masterlist [and warnings!]

PAIRING — Lottie Matthews x afab!reader

CHAPTER SINOPSIS — 1996, you pass your last moments on your hometown before heading to nationals.

NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please go read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)

Chapter 02 — between letters and lies

1996

Charlotte Matthews was born on a cold morning, at exactly 9:46 a.m., and her cries were so loud that the patients six floors above knew that a new life had arrived.

And Charlotte's childhood continued in the same way as it began: with a lot of loud crying. She was always scolded a lot, which is why she hardly cried these days, but there were two people in the world she could rely on to dry her tears.

One of them was extremely close, her childhood best friend, while the other, her grandmother, was still enjoying her retirement: traveling all over the globe. Charlotte tried not to miss her so much (tried not to feel so angry) but it was almost impossible; her grandmother raised her, the only one who gave her affection - and the only one who accepted her after the anniversary tragedy.

Lottie's house was huge and freezing, extremely cold during the winters and with a relaxing breeze during the summers, as if several ghosts were blowing eternally through the walls. As a little girl, Charlotte swore she could hear them.

Today, the only sound in her house was of shells hitting each other, a wind chime that you and her made when the voices in Lottie's head were almost unbearable.

Charlotte went downstairs, looking for one of her parents, but all she saw was the piano in the living room, quiet as a child. 

Oh God, she's never seen a quiet child, she's never been one to begin with, maybe that's why she doesn't have any siblings —she sucked all the energy out of her parents before they could give her some company. 

The girl huffed, crossing her arms as she looked for Genevieve, the new housekeeper. She thought about what might happen if she found her, what she would really do if she saw her. Charlotte would like the presence of someone older and more affectionate, but that didn't mean that anyone older was going to be affectionate. 

She went upstairs again, back to her room and put on the first pair of boots she could find. 

Then she went out into the yard, picking up her old soccer ball and practicing shots with herself, trying to score goals between her mother's flower chairs.

The Aetos family home was near a park with a beautiful garden with a statue in the center, and the bench facing this view was your favorite place. Far enough away from your parents, but close enough for them not to complain.

You held a book in your lap, but could only stare at the water moving up and down the white marble sculpted arms.

It was a perfect sight, a comforting silence and a calm that could only be replicated when you were in the presence of your best friend. 

Your fingers clenched together, nervous, not that it was apparent, anyone who saw you from the outside would find a person as calm as the statue.

Your large, sad eyes were uncomfortable for your mother, and between humility or luxury, she seemed to see only the latter in your irises. More annoying than the eyeballs was the time you spent in the bathroom. Your parents hated your vanity.

Your yellow tights covered your scraped knees, burning from the fervent prayer you had said last night. You felt lost, begged the heavens so much to be heard, to be changed, but to no avail: you still had the same feelings —and blamed yourself greatly for them. 

Was a confession still valid if you lied about the real reasons behind her actions? you confessed seeking forgiveness, not to find other people to blame. 

You confessed, and spent more time practicing your dance routine until your toes hurt, spent more time sewing clothes without taking care with the needle; You tried everything to feel less guilty about your lack of guilt. 

You did like your mother, like the time she caught you reading The Well of Loneliness, and made you clean the whole house on your knees, begging forgiveness for yours and the writer's soul. You wondered if your mother really knew about the story, but you didn't dare question anything, your mother had certainly chastised you because she had heard what the book was about. 

Of all the literature you had ever studied, Russian literature was the one that had taken up the most space in your heart. The melancholy in every word was something no one else could replicate. At least, no one else you could read, as your Arabic was weak and minuscule.

The teacher had split the class into three and given them each a different Russian work. The group was divided into two and each member had to present their own opinion on the theme of the book —as well as doing the technical analysis that you loved so much.

And you got even angrier, you had read the book and loved analyzing it, what was wrong with doing it?

The theme of the book and Dostoevsky's damning phrases about self-opinion... A little ironic that you had got that part of the debate right.

You opened the book again, flicking through the pages as if the answers were going to leap out of the paper and straight into your head.

You loved old literature, knowing that someone, years ago, decades ago, held the same book and read the same words, made you feel as if you weren't alone in her world of thoughts —you were connected to everything and everyone at the same time, all the time.

However, the beauty of the author's words did not take away the sadness of their truthfulness, what hurt hurt, and only became art once it stopped burning.

You opened to any page, your eyes skimming over the paragraph marked in neon colors.

"We always think of eternity as an idea that cannot be understood, something immense. But why should it be? What if, instead of all that, you suddenly find just a little room in there, something like a village bath house, dirty, and spiders in every corner, and that's all eternity is."

That paragraph never left your mind. You had always wanted eternity, to leave a legacy, you wanted to be important, to be remembered, and thinking of eternity as a dirty little room began to drive you crazy. Did the infinitude of the soul really not matter that much? you weren't afraid of dying, but you were afraid of not having anyone to remember you.

Class passed by so painful slowly.

The biology teacher spoke about seaweed, about how they were everywhere — if there was light, there was seaweed. You looked at Lottie, on your side, imagining her engulfing you like the sea engulfed the land — if there was life, there was your love for Lottie.

You could drown in her love, — no, no, you wouldn’t drown —, you would willingly swallow more water than what you could take.

— Are you okay? — she turns around, asking with a pretty worried face.

How to tell all the complicated, sinful thoughts going through your mind? you never let yourself indulge in such desires —let alone recognize you had them. However, you knew it was clear: you wanted to keep being seen.

It took a lot of effort for you to talk, but you opened your mouth more, asked questions, broke the silence quite a few times… The team had given you a voice.

— What happened to Allie… It was truly scary — you decided to say, looking at the hand Lottie had put on the table, aching to be touched too — I never saw someone bleed so much.

It was a lie, but you never considered yourself much of a person to be upset about your bloody wounds; you bled paint, glitter pens, strawberry jam or a ribbon, nothing much human.

— Let’s think about something else, shall we? — Charlotte wanted to punch Taissa (more for giving bad thoughts to you than actually hurting Allie).

—y/n, there’s no one more blessed than you, — Laura Lee started to say, a smile so gentle on her face that the sun itself could burn — you truly are gifted, such as me, for having you.

You smiled too, enticed by the words of your childhood company. There was tension in the circle, with all the girls saying sweet (yet imposing) words to one another. 

— Laura, you are one of my best friends and I’m so glad God led me to you, you shine as bright as the sun — you loved Laura, you hoped Laura never realized how sinful you were.

You two both hugged a very tight embrace, going to another lady. You stepped in front of Shauna, tilting your head at the girl.

— Y/n, you have a… a very nice taste in clothes and phrases.

You giggled lowly, shaking your head.

— Should I be upset about your delay? — you two both laughed slightly, you blinked one eye — I really enjoy you, Shauna, I enjoy your big eyes and big words. 

She didn’t say anything back, and soon you were passing close to Natalie: — I don’t really have anything nice to say about you…

— Oh, fuck off! — she muttered back, smiling like a fool while going in Jackie's direction.

— Taissa, you are very pretty, and perhaps too witty for your own good. 

— Y/n, you are the second best on the team.

And you didn’t even get upset by it, rather the contrary, you immediately assumed Lottie was the first —and you were so happy to be so close to Lottie in Tai's view.

Finally, the time came, the lamb walked in the direction of the flames.

— Lottie! — your voice was like a surprised giggle, staring deeply into the girl’s — I know God exists because I looked you in the eyes.

— y/n… — she took a deep breath, lost in words, swallowing everything she truly wanted to say, but she smiled — if God exists, I wonder when he will bless me with your lips.

Of course, this wasn’t what she truly said. In fact, Lottie kept quiet. She gave one step ahead and hugged you tightly, whispering on your ear:

— God exists in your embrace.

Charlotte's house was not only large and full of rooms, but it was also full of space in the backyard —a plot big enough to have a vegetable garden and a pond you could bathe in. 

You weren't the biggest fan of pieces of water where you couldn't see the ground, so you loved being in the lake at Charlotte's house, where the water was almost crystal clear, showing the stones. You couldn't even think of what that pool of water must have cost Mr. and Mrs. Matthews.

Lottie was in the water, while you were sitting on the edge with your feet dangling and creating little ripples, you had leaves, twigs and flowers around, creating crowns of petals and plants. Charlotte stared at you curiously, wondering what you were thinking, although she knew that if she asked, the answer would be the same: "I'm not thinking about anything, dear Lottie, just feeling how much I love you and-"

Oh, right, that part wasn't really sincere, but Lottie liked to imagine you following the script that her own head was creating.

When Lottie thought of you, she didn't think of a love that warmed her all over, but a love that would cook her in an oven at 200 degrees and consume her entirely. 

She imagined you sitting at a beautiful table, waiting for her heart on a platter.

She imagined that you would accept the dish, that you would eat every morsel, saying promises of love —she imagined that you would accept her into your body in every way.

— Do you think the dinosaurs knew they were about to die? It makes me so sad to think that they might have just thought it was a miracle that such a shiny thing had come so close... — You pressed your lips together, stopping weaving the leaves to stare at the work in progress and pulling Charlotte out of her own head — I guess that's how it is with all warm and shiny things, one day they turn you to dust...

— Do you think it would have been different? If they'd known?

—  A lot of people only start to love once they know they may never love again, don't they?

— Well, that's Confucius' logic... But I don't know if I'd like to know that the end is so near, sometimes ignorance can be a gift.

— But it's still a lie.

— But it's going to end anyway, darling... What difference does a beautiful lie make? — Lottie stared at her best friend, she knew that nothing was more important to you than the truth, that's why everything was so painful and confusing for you.

Lottie realized that she had to be honest.

— Y/n, I need to tell you something, — she said, smiling nervously.

You looked at her curiously, stepping into the river to be closer to Lottie.

— I’m terrified of nationals. You need to come, I’ve asked the coach to put you on the regular.

You sighed slightly, thinking about how Allie couldn’t play any sooner.

— It’s a great opportunity for you, Lots… 

— I don't want it for me, I want it for us.

You stared at your best friend, a confused smile on your face, wondering how you should handle this situation.

— applepie, I need you to trust me on this... — Charlotte said, her voice serious, moving closer and wrapping her arms around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder — please. 

You turned your head, leaning it against Lottie's, your nose taking in the scent of your friend's hair cream. The water around you was cold, but your body was warm —your heart too.

— Okay... a test...

“My dearest, Charlotte

I must apologize, I am not a good person with words getting out of my mouth, but, hopefully, I will be able to make them worthy of writing in this letter.

I tell you how much I appreciate you, however, I must confess, it's surprising for me how unsure of it all you seem to be; I suppose our own light truly can make us blind.

I feel like those words weren't enough, so I hope I can make you believe it with this list.

— I love the way you look at me after I say something you disagree with; I love how you expect your eyes to say everything you can't; Most of it all, I love how they truly say it.

— I love how when you laugh (truly laughs) your eyes become very small; I love how your cheeks work as a happy measure, I know when a joke is funny when I can't see your eyes.

— I love how you tilt your head when you are trying to make people see your point of view.

— I love that when you frown, your lips are pressed together, like you are sending a kiss to those you disagree with. I suppose you are just so full of love that your body releases it without even wanting to.

— I love your smell; I can sense everytime you enter the room, it's there instantly and I look for it like a dog in an airport. I never cared that much about perfumes, from all the five senses, smell was the one I took for granted; however it is different now: I find myself taking deep breaths around you, so usually that everytime I see a pretty fantastic view on my walks, I end up lacking air.

— I love your hair; I love how your bangs are always so neatly trimmed and placed, like the wind isn't a bother to your lines; I love how you play with it when you are filled with concentration.

— I love your fingers and how they look for my hand;

— I love your skin; I love how you glow in the sun, like Apollo is making it shine just for you; Deeply, I bet he is, how could the almighty god of art not wish to perpetuate the beauty of the most beautiful creation in the mortal realm?

— I love your mind most of it all, how you think; I love how you stay dedicated to one single singer but listens to multiple songs of various people; I love how you speak your mind when you are comfortable enough; I love how your favorite shows are the ones you didn't even finished watching, there's something very pure of loving a thing you don't even know how it's going to end; I love how one of your favorite colors is grey but you only uses light tones; I love how your biggest dream is to work paleontology, how you wish to dive deep into the past and look for answers; I love how your favorite animal are dogs because you see them more (what is strange for me at first, how can you have as your favorite something so daily?; until I realized that what you love the most is to have company; I do not wish for you to prefer anything else.);

— I love dogs (now).”

You took a deep breath, putting the decorated letter inside Lottie’s locker and walked straight outside, ready to enter the bus and be taken to the airport; leaving the confession letter to your future self.

Leaving to the future.

[lesbianasfuckwomen]

Vanessa and Mike: That's two things

Peepaw William: *Proceeds to stab and send animatronics to torture and brutally murder the everliving SHIT out of them*