#this family is falling apart around me but we stay silly
Text
happy trans day of visibility it was nice seeing u all. see u again next year 🫡
bonus rainbow flag version. im probably gonna make a few more For Me when i am not sleepy bc i can Edit That Thing, if u wanna request a specific flag version or smth leave a comment and i’ll see if i can get to it <3
#my art#gabriel ultrakill#ultrakill#gabriel ultrakill supports trans wrongs!#there should be a pride flag specifically for people who are pathetic gay catholic heretics#not to get personal in the tags but today has been A Day.#this family is falling apart around me but we stay silly#so i’m glad i was able to get this done even if it was late#gabriel ultrakill save me. save me gabriel ultrakill
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
random firefighter!ace headcanons (while I finish this fic!)
warnings: nothing too bad! some fluffiness and silly!ace, a few nsfw things under the cut, alcohol mentions, food mentions
firefighter!ace is surprisingly a neat freak. At least around the firehouse..he does weekly inspections and is very meticulous about how the equipment is stored. He has his own little system and everything. (his apartment is another story though!)
firefighter!ace thinks he is the appointed cook in the firehouse. Mans throws down in the kitchen and will make enough to feed an army. (he’s half Filipino in my head idc idc) so he cooks a lot of Asian fusion dishes, recipes passed down from his mom and family and yes, he insists on making them for (y/n) too on ‘date’ nights.
firefighter!ace is a CLOWN and a half. He keeps everybody in high spirits, especially after a rough call. Dancing, playing music, cracking jokes, playing cards..he will never let his team stay down for too long! (hc that he loves Bad Bunny, J Balvin and a lil bit of dancehall 🤭.) went to the club with (y/n) once and you were shocked when you started whining on him and he knew what to do with it!
firefighter!ace keeps teddy bears and dolls in the fire truck in case there are children at the scene and he always rushes to comfort them.
firefighter!ace spends his days off hiking, camping, running and doing a bunch of nature-centric activities. He loves the outdoors and wants to share that passion with you! He gets sooo excited when you agree to go on a hike with him up to this canyon he’s trekked a few times, surprised when you beat him up there. “You’re really good at this, rookie. You can run more than your mouth.” “Nah, I just wanted to kick your ass, that’s all.”
firefighter!ace is an animal lover. He has two cats and the firehouse dog is his literal son. He pets random animals whilst out at the park and will come over to your apartment just to ignore you and play with your kittens! “Anyways, I’m not here for you. I came to see my daughter, thank you.” 😭
firefighter!ace is the life of the party and that even gets worse when he drinks. He can handle his liquor pretty well so he doesn’t fall all over the place but he is way too lively when he’s drunk!
firefighter!ace does have a bit of a fashion game. He and his brother are sneaker heads and collect them so his closet is filled with all sorts of shoes. He has more a rustic, indie/hippy aesthetic but he dresses really nice when he needs to.
firefighter!ace loves the idea of sneaking around the firehouse with you. Getting in quickies with the very little free time and privacy you have. Covering your mouth as he gets you up against the wall in the bunks. “C’mon, rookie. We only have a few minutes, don’t get us caught.”
firefighter!ace is a back kisser, neck licker and suck toes. He’s so attentive and loving when you guys do get your alone time. Especially when you’ve had an attitude all week and he knows what you need. He will give you the slowest strokes while looking deep in your eyes and prone bone because he doesn’t want you doing any of the work. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Needed me stretch you out? Should’ve just said that from the beginning.”
firefighter!ace lovesssss showering together. Not just for the sexual aspect but the intimacy of it. Touching and feeling every inch of your skin, kissing you real slow underneath falling water and holding your face. Seeing your skin all lathered up in soap and just admiring every inch of your body. “You’re so soft..I love it.”
firefighter!ace gets so intense and passionate, becoming a little possessive..fucking you like it’s the last time after extremely dangerous calls. If there was an instant where your life has been in danger or he was scared of losing you, he all but puts you through the mattress, making you whimper and claw at the sheets as you scream his name. He cries into your neck/shoulder, just confessing his feelings. “You’re mine..you got that? Don’t you ever scare me again.”
#cherry’s works ✦⭒#one piece ace#one piece#one piece x black!reader#one piece x reader#portgas d ace#ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace smut#portgas ace fluff#one piece fluff#portgas ace x you#ace headcanons#one piece x y/n#op x y/n#op x reader#one piece au#one piece modern au#one piece smut#one piece headcanons#portgas ace x y/n#one piece drabble#firefighter au#black reader#poc reader#one piece x you#cw smut#cw alcohol#cw suggestive
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
something i love about spy family is that its a very funny manga, but it isn't afraid to be serious and talk about serious things (and its also really good at transitioning between the two)
Tatsuya Endo has an amazing grasp of balance. There are a lot of posts going around about how Spy x Family goes from something as heavy as "war makes monsters of us all" to something as silly as "Anya finds Loid's tourist fashion choices lame" and it somehow works.
It's one of the things that made me fall in love with the story from the second if not the very first episode of the anime. It dares to be realistic about how war impacts humans and how it takes them into a path they wouldn't normally take, but at its core it's a story filled with humor and love and connection, because this is how humans are supposed to live like. I mean, not to break it down to a "live laugh love" moral, but at the end of the day it does prioritize people living happily together and in peace. Even the "enemy" is shown in a sympathetic light from time to time.
And the humor and silliness attributes to that. It makes the story light-hearted despite the heavy issues it tackles. It would be hard to find hope in a story that focuses only on those heavy issues, if its vibe was constant grittiness and violence and dark themes. Not that there's anything wrong with stories with such themes; but you wouldn't usually watch such a story and expect to feel full of hope afterwards, nor expect it to have the humor that SxF has.
What is amazing is how Endo manages the balance of it all. How he works in the silliness amidst an environment of a cold war, of hardened spies and assassins, because it would be very easy to veer right into tone-deaf cheesy territory that gives you (unintentional) emotional whiplash. I think it's due to how the characters are only slightly exaggerated versions of something you'd see in real life. Anya behaves as any five-year-old would, where her focus is to work in protection of peace, make sure the family won't break apart, and above all, have fun. Yor's view of the world has been impacted by how long she's worked as an assassin, but her "naivete" is mostly her tendency to see good in everyone, even the "bastards" she's sent to kill. Twilight keeps telling himself everything he does is "for the mission" but he's only human and can't help bonding with his family even if he doesn't realize it.
The characters may behave in an exaggerated way from time to time, but they're not caricatures. The humor and ridiculousness (affectionate) in their actions are based on real human traits and behaviours we can see in real life. The want to have fun, the tendency to see the good in people, the desire to love. Endo simply takes those and has three people whose special traits clash with those three mentioned traits. Anya grew up as a science experiment in a lab where she wasn't allowed to have fun, so now that she has people who care for her emotional growth she goes all out with fun activities. Yor was forced into the choice of becoming an assassin, having to be told "This person is BadTM so you play judge jury and executioner", but with Yuri being her motivation (and later on the Forgers too) she managed to keep her kind heart. Occasionally she can't control her monstrous strength and may also consider killing people who inconvenience her and then go like "Yo wtf chill maybe". Twilight became a spy and distanced himself from human connections, but now that his job brought him into the position of staying long term with a kid and a wife and a dog, his desire for such a connection is rearing its persistent head. And so you get a Professional Master SpyTM playing "Rescue Princess Anya from the Evil Clutches of Count Scruffy Head".
It's the contrast that makes the humor of it all, and in such a way that it never takes only one character's side. I think that also adds to the "flexibility" of the story. It's easier to connect to a story when there's multiple sides explained and understood by the audience; and I mean, the only thing the story looks to be trying to "convince" you of is that humans live best when they live in peace and surrounded by people they love, and that's an undeniable fact of human nature. The characters can and do make mistakes but they're shown to be able to grow from them, and even someone radicalized and extremist like Yuri has understandable motives and a very human nature - just one that was taken advantage of by people in power.
Overall yeah, I think it's how focused on the characters' humanity the story is that it makes the balance between humor and heavy issues work. Again, though it can be exaggerated at times, it's not a caricature or slapstick, just for the sake of making the audience laugh. There's a depth and a genuine reaching out for the audience's emotions and understanding.
(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga 😁)
#ask and ye shall receive#commieorcs#this probably got too deep lmao#but yeah I do love this aspect of the story so much#and Endo deserves the praise for balancing it all out so masterfully#Spy x Family#sxf meta
69 notes
·
View notes
Note
when was the first time you watched newsies and what made you love it? :)
God I don't even remember anymore😭 I'm SOOOO OLLLLDDDUHHHHHH
I do remember that livesies was what first pulled me in. I remember scrolling tumblr endlessly and absorbing the art of crystallizedtwilight. "I want to draw like that," I thought, "I want to captivate an audience like that with my visions of these characters that I love."
I fantasized always about how great my art could be if I really pushed myself. About how much I wanted to gush about these things that I love and have strangers gush with me, drawn in by the work I put out there.
and through my tumblr escapades, I spotted the first mentions of 92sies.
"NOTHING WILL EVER COMPARE TO NEWSIES BROADWAY!" I thought
I HATED newsies 1992 at first. I HATED IT I thought it sucked and was totally lame and for losers! what is this monstrosity which I see before me? an unabashed fest of loserdom completely taking my favorite characters and unraveling them to neutral tone Guys???
but I started to dwell on 92sies. I started to think more about the changes to the story, the characters, how this one came first. something about it just captivated me. it captivates so many. and to some it may seem like just a silly box office flop about a 19th century strike that happens to include Christian Bale, but it's so much more, isn't it?
it's a story of courage and adversity. it shines a light in the dark where no one else in history ever really cares to look. the characters were so HUMAN. there were quiet and solemn moments, stakes that had you on the edge of your seat, and such strangely witty and period-typical dialogue that never really made it to Broadway.
there's delusion, there failure. there's wanting something to be real so badly in a time where hope ran short that Jack tried to weld fiction and reality together. there's higher stakes and realer danger, strikebreakers were so much scarier and Snyder made my skin crawl.
David had so much more depth. He wasn't just some shy goody two shoes, he was boyish and loquacious, just looking for a place he fit in to really open up and reach his potential. he was rough and tough and jumped into the battle feet first to fight for justice. we meet his parents, we meet his family, and we watch Jack softly sing Santa Fe on the fire escape.
There's so much longing. There's so much reaching out, hoping for another hand to reach back and be there to break your fall. There's no trust on the streets, but there is. They're not brothers or blood, but they're here together, and that's what matters.
There's no leader. The only thing that Jack wears to stand out from the rest of the newsies is his bandana. His dream puts him apart from the rest– rather than sticking around and working with what he was given, he wanted nothing more than to run away. A testament to what he'd been doing for all his life, running and hiding from the demons out to get him.
...and then David comes along, and teaches Jack courage. Maybe... if David can stand up for himself, so can he.
It's not that Jack has "nothing to stay for"... he's too scared to stay. What he doesn't have in New York is PEACE. And David gives that to him.
TLDR: I found newsies through Tumblr and I love the wordless lessons they teach through characters' actions and the story of triumph it tells even when the very circumstances of your birth are against you also historical fiction ftw
this was so fucking long I'm so sorry anon you didn't deserve this once I started writing I just couldn't stop.... . . . .
#ALSO#nothing wrong with livesies I still like it very much!#just me personally me prefer 92♥️♥️#idk if that was obvious.#WAAAAAHHHAHAH#answered asks#newsies#newsies 1992
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)
Chapter 5
The pack discovers Dew is missing.
Dew's journey begins, and he reflects on his past.
Rating: M
Content: parental problems, trans dewdrop, accidental misgendering, self-hatred, gender dysphoria, dew makes decisions that hurt him mentally and physically, he's scared of rejection and also, potential starvation, found family, dew faces his past
Words: 5105
Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3
Quite a lore/backstory heavy one for Dew this week! I wanted to get a bit more plot in, but there's a fair bit of history and some other characters that need introducing first!
hi hi @revengeghoulette @everybodyshusband @rainsbasspick (an additional thank you for your advice on some basic horsey words haha!), as always tysssm for your interest in my silly little fic!!
Read below, or on AO3!
Dear Aether, Mountain, Swiss,
Don't wait for me, get out of here. Help Rain, but don't put yourselves in danger. They'll kill you too.
I'll be back when I can. I love you always.
Dewdrop.
“What does he mean?” cried Aether, “How can he just run off and leave like that?”
“I can't believe the selfish little bastard, after all we did for him!” Mountain growled, anger winning out over Aether's sadness at the fire ghoul's early departure.
"You don't mean that, Sprout.” Swiss tried to sooth him, wrapping warm arms around him from behind and pressing his warm nose in-between the taller ghoul's shoulder blades. His visions had stopped as Dew fled, the future too uncertain now even for his supernatural predictions. The numbness had caught him off guard leaving him feeling empty and hollow, stumbling outside to find his packmates. The sudden clarity felt sharp, like he had been doused in ice cold water.
They had discovered Dew's note soon after, propped up in the middle of the kitchen table. Aether had read it aloud, over and over until the words became noise in their ears and his voice disintegrated into choked-off sobs.
“I'll wring his scrawny neck when I catch him!” angry tears started to fall down Mountain's cheeks. “He's doomed Rain and doomed us all!”
“I thought we were pack...” Aether whimpered, clutching the note to his chest.
Swiss's head still reeling slightly from the sudden departure of his painful visions, he found himself the one in greatest control of his emotions. He tried to push some of his own quintessence into the room to calm the situation down. His visions having stopped so abruptly made him uneasy, and he knew they wouldn't return until they left the farmhouse where their fate was sealed if they stayed. They had no future here, that was clear to him.
“Dew's right,” he ventured, ignoring the slight growl from the earth ghoul in his arms, “we have to get out of here, we're all dead if we stay.”
Aether sniffed and nodded slowly. Mountain seemed like he wanted to resist further, but eventually huffed out a sigh, before turning to look at Swiss.
“So we leave then. Let the village destroy everything we've worked for, and hope it's not too late for Rain.”
Swiss nodded solemnly. “I don't see what else we can do. As long as we sit here, I see only nothingness ahead. We can camp out somewhere, and decide what to do from there.”
“We were wanderers before, we can do it again.” Aether whispered, getting to his feet. Swiss felt bad for pushing him when he seemed so close to cracking apart, but there was a clock ticking over their heads for as long as they stayed here.
“Let's pack up and leave, the sooner we get out of here the better, for us as well as Rain.”
Mountain reluctantly agreed, albeit with a scowl. “If Dew wants to take his chances on his own, he's welcome to.”
~~~~~~~
By the time Dew reached the nearest stables, his ankle was already screaming at him again in pain. Aether’s magic could only do so much, and Dew had pushed it past its limits. He had skirted round to the eastern edge of town, heading for the main path that led away from the village and up to the cold northern shores. The constant pounding of his footfalls against the dry and cracked earth made shooting pains lance up his calf with every step, and he cursed himself for pushing it so hard even once he was out of view of the farmhouse.
The sun was beginning to set, so Dew sat down under the leafy canopy of a tree to watch and wait until it was darker. The stables were old, leaning against a sandy-coloured stone building that looked as though it had been standing since humans first walked the earth. Still, it seemed cosy inside, the smell of dinner wafting out of the chimney alongside the curl of smoke from the fire. His stomach growled at him, the tempting aroma reminding him of how limited his own rations were. Dew saw the farmer emerge to call in his dog for supper and used the distraction to make a run for the stalls where the horses were kept.
Entering the lean-to building, the dark chestnut horse nearest the entrance looked over the half-door at Dew with curiosity in their dark eyes. Further into the outbuilding, a dappled grey horse bared their large teeth at him with a snort. Dew didn’t have a death wish, so he snatched a blanket and saddle from the wall and began tacking up the chestnut horse. The final hurdle was the thick chain connecting the horse’s halter to an iron ring in the wall which Dew easily melted through. The horse whinnied nervously at the smell of smouldering metal, but was easily placated by a gentle stroke to their nose. Dew grabbed a few more items he thought could be useful and filled the horse's saddlebags, stuffing his own knapsack in on top.
As quietly as he could with all the brass tack jangling, Dew led the horse outside. She, he deduced, waited patiently next to a mounting block for him to scramble inelegantly into the saddle. Checking over his shoulder that he hadn’t been spotted, he gently nudged the horse to begin walking out of the yard, back onto the road. She snorted anxiously at travelling in the near-dark, but Dew kept the pace slow and encouraged her gently, one step at a time.
He knew there was a river a few miles out from here, and shelter that was well hidden from the path. It was out here where Aether and Mountain had found him, after all. The deep green trees full of summer leaves formed a canopy overhead, and the path was soft underfoot from those leaves that had fallen early. In the twilight, Dew finally spotted the small clearing alongside the river that he was looking for, and the camouflaging greeery at the edge of it.
Dew encouraged the horse to drink from the stream, before retreating to the cover of the thick shrubbery. Looping a length of rope he had stolen around a tree trunk, Dew tethered the horse to it for the night. He emptied the fistfuls of hay he had also taken onto the grass in front of her, before settling down under the saddle blanket in the shadow of the bushes. Dew always rose with the sun, and then they would be on their way.
The next morning while the sky was still pale grey, Dew was on his way further north towards the only salvation for Rain and the pack that he could think of. The horse beneath him trotted along happily as he ate his meagre breakfast of dried meat and water in the saddle. He was making good pace, travelling with a well-bred horse and a slight knowledge of the paths. It was a stark difference from when he had made the same journey in reverse all those years before. Then, he had been on foot, exhausted, and any plan beyond survival had been long abandoned.
Dew thought back on his old life as they travelled, on the many previous chapters he had tried to supress. Back to his early life as a kit; unloved and used as a pawn in his mother's mind-games. He had never known his father, the water ghoul long gone by the time Dewdrop was old enough to walk and talk. Even his mother, a fire ghoul born to parents with strict views on elemental purity, had only known him superficially before he left.
An act of youthful rebellion, her brief romance with a water ghoul had ended shortly after Dew's birth when he fled back to his original clan. Ghouls inherited their elements from their mothers so the fire kit was raised amongst his own, but with a conspicuous water ghoul name that made him stand out as a target. As Dew had gotten older he had realised just how much resentment his mother had for him, and how he had ruined her young and flighty life. The realisation that his existence was merely a tool to further antagonise his grandparents had made his decision clear and Dewdrop had left his home clan as early as possible.
Life hadn't gotten much easier from there. A young ghoul, alone in the wilderness, Dew weakly struggled onwards following a faint mixed ghoulish scent towards what he hoped was a friendly clan. After several hungry and cold months of wandering, he had found himself outside a grand Abbey on the northern coast, the tall oak doors with carvings of the elemental symbols daring him to ring the brass bell nearby.
The tall air ghoulette who answered his call wore a warm face, in contrast with her militaristic uniform. She had led him inside by the hand, bringing him to a room brightly lit by candlelight, with a roaring fire in the hearth. She'd brought him food, water and a blanket, even offering to help brush the tangles out of his long hair. Dew had wondered if he was so exhausted that he was hallucinating; he'd never been shown this kind of care in his life. The gentle fingers on his scalp were sending him to sleep, when there was a quiet knock at the door.
“Come in Lus, we have a guest!” called the ghoulette softly, setting down the hairbrush.
Another ghoulette entered, wearing the same black uniform. Her white-blond hair bounced round her shoulders like a cloud, and she had the same caring smile.
“Hello!” she'd dimpled at him, “I heard of your arrival on the winds, what's your name?”
"Dewdrop, Ma’am.”
She pulled a face at the formality of his reply, her peal of laughter sounding like bells chiming in the wind. “That's quite enough of that! Call me Cumulus. I hope Cirrus is taking good care of you?”
Dewdrop nodded shyly, letting his hair fall in front of his face to hide from her inquisitive blue eyes.
“Great! I'll tell Copia that the new ghoulette is settling in well, he can't wait to meet you!” Before Dew had a chance to correct her, she'd spun around and flounced back out of the room.
Dew knew all too well what he looked like, knew what he smelled like to other ghouls, but it still stung. He hated what his physical vessel implied; especially after the months of malnutrition and living in the woods. His increasingly skinny, bird-like frame didn't exactly scream big tough ghoul, nor did the security curtain of long blond hair he hid behind. They had seen what they thought was a young ghoulette, alone and scared on their doorstep, and Dew had done nothing to correct them. Still, it hurt.
Dew bit his tongue for now – he was too grateful for the hot meal and promise of a warm bed after so long outside to jeopardize his place here, if ghouls weren't welcome. He had spent so many years of his earlier life denying who he was, and having received easy acceptance among his birth clan once he had told them, he had gone and thrown all of that away to go and starve in the woods. How selfish. Maybe he deserved to suffer a bit longer, he thought, for running off and being so utterly useless at life that he had become a burden, yet again.
Smelling the anxiety rolling off him, Cirrus started purring reassuringly and picked up the hairbrush again.
“Don't worry, Copia's no one to be afraid of. He probably just wants to see if he can recruit you into the choir!”
Dewdrop stayed quiet and let her calmly braid his hair with precise fingers. The warmth of the fire continued to seep into his bones, and he felt his strength returning. Soon, he could be on his way again and this would just be another in a strong of upsetting memories.
From that day forward, the pair of air ghoulettes had treated Dew like one of their own. They showed him to a small room, sparse but cosy, and told him he could stay as long as he liked. Over the coming weeks as he recovered – slower than he would have liked – Dew had discovered that the Abbey was a safe haven for those without pack or clan, those persecuted by the humans they walked amongst, and even just those who wanted to learn about and spread the Dark Lord's word. Run by a distinctly ghoulish-scented human, who Dewdrop suspected might be more similar to him that the man realised, they spread His message through song, and housed the largest library of unholy texts Dew had ever seen.
Eventually, he'd found there were other ghouls around, not only ghoulettes, although they were fewer in number. Every day, Dew thought about correcting them, telling the air ghoulettes that he was actually a fire ghoul, but every day something stopped him. They’d done so much for him since he had arrived; from the start they had treated him like pack, and he knew deep down they would most likely take the information well. Dewdrop felt like he’d gained two older sisters to watch over him and guide him in this new life, and he couldn’t stand the thought of admitting that he’d been lying to them the whole time. The voices in his head telling him he was pathetic for not managing life outside without starving were the same ones that screamed him how he would be betraying their trust, having waited so long now to say anything.
Living at the Abbey could be wonderful, he would be stupid not to see that: if he could just come clean and inform them that he was actually a ghoul, and not a ghoulette, he knew he could make a good life here. He sang with their choir, the euphoric feeling of praising Him with music nothing like he’d ever experienced before. The library too, was a new discovery to him. The librarian, a water ghoulette called Mist, had taken a shine to him and helped him decipher some of the oldest texts. Dew had never felt such a kinship with a water ghoul before, and his curiosity about her, and by extension what his own father may have been like drew him closer to her.
With Mist’s help, Dew learned a great deal from the library. From some basic knowledge about what plants he could forage and how to set traps for small animals, he had progressed to reading ancient tomes on ghouls and their nature. He learned how to adjust his scent and mask his more ghoulette-like features; how to craft the changes to his form he so desperately wanted. He studied hard until he was able to bind them to him, much like the chosen glamour all ghouls wore around humans. Mist directed him through the maze of bookshelves with practiced ease, and recommended texts with a confidence that he thought could only have come from prior experience.
Despite Cumulus, Cirrus and Mist’s unwavering care and support, Dew felt himself nearing a breaking point. The longer he stayed, the more he felt like his lies were swirling endlessly around him. The spiral descent into self-loathing felt unstoppable, like the easier option was to just leave and take his lies with him. It became clear to him that he would not be able to stay here, and stay sane. Although he was still weakened from his previous attempt at a solo wandering lifestyle, Dew trusted in his new-found knowledge to keep him safe.
He could not have been more wrong. Dew had told no one he was leaving, simply slipping out the main gate into the early morning fog. He’d walked for miles, the freshly-healed blisters on his feet ripping back open and the damp air penetrating every fold of his clothes, sapping the infernal heat from his body. Even with his painstakingly copied diagrams, his traps failed. He’d read pages and pages on edible plants, but recognised next to none amongst the flora that grew along his path. Try with all his might, Dew hadn’t succeeded in catching a single fish.
A few weeks into his slow and painful trudge south, Dewdrop found himself following a river. He’d come across a few human encampments along the way, stealing food from them when he could, making tea from leaves and bark to fill his stomach, but was empty-handed and starving again by the time he reached a small clearing edged by tall shrubs and trees. He sat behind the bushes, watching the road. Dew had no strength left to hunt, so he curled up to desperately hope a foolish traveller would make a camp he could steal from in the clearing in front of him.
There was no other way out for him now; he’d waited too long and travelled too far to make it back to the Abbey with his tail between his legs, either he would steal food for one more day, or he would starve. Dew didn’t want to be returned to the pit like that: he had heard of it happening, ghouls who failed to take care of themselves being pulled back to His realms, but he was scared. He only knew life on the surface and, as painful as it was, it was home.
Dew hugged his knees to his chest and tried not to cry. He’d failed at everything; thrown his best chance at life away and for what? To starve alone in the woods. As his sniffed back tears, he felt a strange scent tickle the back of his throat. It was sharp like the air before a thunderstorm, yet calming like lavender and chamomile. He took a deeper breath. There it was again, and behind it the deep, earthy smell of damp forest floors, cut through with the lively, resinous scent of pine sap. Dew felt the hairs stand up along the back of his neck, and a tingling in the base of his glamoured horns. Could it be… other ghouls?
He stumbled to his feet, using the last of his energy to force out a submissive, non-threatening scent. Dew started tracking the scent, following it down to the river’s edge where he could smell it drifting downwind from the north. Had they been following him? He hunkered down in a defensive couch, in case the ghoul, or ghouls, were hostile. Dew heard them before he saw them, a pair of male voices carried towards him on the breeze. He locked on to the sound like it was a lifeline. They sounded casual, relaxed.
Two tall ghouls came into view, although they looked distinctly human with their glamours in place. They paused at the edge of the clearing, going silent as they clearly smelled Dew before they spotted him. Dew huddled to the ground suppressing a shiver, from cold or fear he wasn't sure. Quiet voices drifted towards him,
“Is that a ghoul?”
"Maybe a kit? They look tiny...”
Dew tried to keep his eyes glued to their feet as they cautiously moved closer, not wanting to look like he was challenging the much larger ghouls. An involuntary hiss escaped his lips at their approach making the pair pause slightly and look at each other, having some kind of unspoken conversation.
“He's all skin and bones, look at him he's terrified!” The slightly shorter of the two, a quintessence ghoul, exclaimed and broke away to move even closer with his hands outstretched, palms up like approaching a wild animal. Dew raised his eyes to take in more of the ghoul, and was struck by the kindness he saw in his facial expression.
Warm violet eyes crinkled down at him in concern, the only ghoulish feature on his disguised, yet weathered face. Dew made no move to stand; his legs felt disconnected from his body. The quintessence ghoul offered him a smile, as he joined Dew in a crouch on the ground.
“You’re not a kit, are you.” he stated. “But you do look like you need some help. I’m Aether, and this is Mountain,” he gestured at the earth ghoul who was still hovering awkwardly a few paces back, “what’s your name?”
“Dewdrop.” His voice cracked with disuse, ripping its way out of his throat.
“Well Dewdrop, let’s start by getting some food into you, shall we?”
Dew nodded guardedly, hardly believing the pair were real. The odds of meeting other ghouls, and friendly ones at that, were minuscule compared to the likelihood that they were merely the hallucinations of his desperate brain. With some more coaxing and a pair of strong arms, Aether helped him to his unsteady feet. The earth ghoul, Mountain, fished around in his pack and produced some rations for him to eat, while Aether unfolded a blanket from his own to wrap around Dew’s shoulders. He thanked them in a whisper.
“We live close by, if you’ll let us take you there?” Aether asked. Dew looked at him warily, before answering haltingly,
“I- I don’t know how much further I can walk.” he admitted. Everything about the pair seemed trustworthy so far, but they were still strangers, and could probably overpower him with a single finger in his current state.
“Nonsense,” Aether cracked an encouraging smile, “Mount can carry you!” The aforementioned ghoul made a show of flexing his arms as Dew turned to him, sceptical. Following them was one thing, but being willingly carried off to their den?
“Don’t look at me like that, little one,” the earth ghoul smirked, “my pack weighs more than you!”
That was precisely what Dew was worried about. Still, he didn't think he had many other options in his current state, and at least with the small amount of bread now in his stomach he might now have the strength to burn them with his element if he found himself in danger.
The journey in Mountain’s strong arms went by in a blur, as Dew tried not to think how pathetic he had become, to need to be carried like a kit. Dew saw them pass a stables, and then a montage of farmhouses and hedgerows that all blended into one as the gentle rocking motion began to lull him into unconsciousness. The earth ghoul was warm, warmer than he should have felt to Dew as a fire ghoul, but he slowly felt his own temperature recovering as they travelled. For the first time in a long while, Dew found himself beginning to feel almost safe.
The pair had brought him into their own farmhouse, a place that was sparsely occupied yet homely, in the way only long-time dwellings could be. Quintessence and – especially – earth ghouls were known to be solitary and nomadic beings, yet these two had clearly absorbed the best of the human creature comforts available to them. They soon had Dew warming up under a pile of plush furs and blankets in front of a roaring fire, recharging his dwindling internal heat. Fire ghouls were greatly valued for their ability to keep themselves and others warm in even the harshest conditions, providing they were healthy themselves, yet as soon as they became hungry or tired their internal fire was the first thing to suffer and could be challenging to reignite.
Mountain had brought him a bowl of warming soup, the light broth gentle on his stomach, while Aether sat nearby funnelling healing magic into Dew’s weak frame. In spite of their gentle care and kind actions, Dew found himself growing suspicious of how willing they had been to help him and invite him into their den and let him remain there. In his experience, lone ghouls never let a stranger encroach on their space without a reason: dens were for pack, potential mates, and prey. Then again, the ghouls seemed to go against every other expectation Dew held, by travelling together despite clearly not being mates and living in such close proximity to humans and their civilisation. Dew resolved to stay alert, and see what ulterior motive the ghouls had, if any.
Over the following weeks, things began to settle into a routine. Dew was feeling much stronger, and had moved into an empty room within the ghouls' farmhouse. He had to admit, they seemed to have a nice life out here. He'd seen the way they intermingled with the human population of the nearby village, how they had gained their trust. As far as Dew's desire for a fresh start was concerned, he seemed to be doing well. Neither Mountain or Aether had asked any questions about his past or why he had come to be starving and alone in the woods, and it didn't seem like it mattered to them.
Dew had learned that they had found him while returning from a week-long hunting trip. They had both been solitary ghouls for many years before meeting each other, and had bonded initially through a more transactional relationship as lookouts and allies before later becoming friends. For the moment, they had paused their transient lifestyle to see how a more settled existence would suit them, while still striving to keep their own survival and hunting skills fresh should they decide to move on. Mountain and Aether were clearly both more pack-oriented than usual for their elemental types, yet they were still independent, strong ghouls.
A month in however, they were still treating Dew with kid gloves. He knew he was perfectly capable of many things and was a quick learner despite his apparent ineptitude with survival skills, and it irked him that he was barely left alone with his thoughts. After Aether had insisted on joining him on his walk for the umpteenth time that week Dew had become snippy, reminding him that he wasn't a kit and could easily pace a lap of the field without his hand being held. Dew knew that his hot-and-cold attitude hadn't helped his integration into their lives, and Mountain especially had been suspicious of him for several more months. They were just trying to help a fellow ghoul – and a young one at that – not get returned to the pit due to their own incompetence, and Dew seemed to be plain ungrateful at times.
Dew wondered what they must think of him now; as he rode as hard as he could northwards and away from the village. He had to come alone, that was clear to him, and the others would have never let him go by himself if he had stuck around longer to tell them his plan. They must think he had abandoned them, selfishly escaping and leaving them to face Rain's fate and the village's wrath alone. They must be cursing his name; agreeing on what a pathetic excuse for a packmate he was, leaving their youngest hung out to dry in his time of need. Dew had never been the perfect packmate, he knew that, and at every step he'd let them down.
Mountain and Aether had bonded so quickly with Swiss when he arrived; rolling into the tavern one night, and into their lives and house the next, and then again with Rain when he arrived. With Swiss it was understandable that he would have a closer kinship with the older ghouls as they all had experience with the outdoor travelling lifestyle, and had a greater shared history of experiences. With Rain however, he and Dew had arrived in almost identical circumstances. Both were young and unused to the harshness of the world, both having been weakened by it. Aether had clearly tried to push them together, seeing the opportunity for both of the relatively withdrawn and private ghouls to find a meaningful bond with each other. Dew had never given Rain a chance however and had pushed him away, once again leaving Aether and Mountain to pick up the slack of introducing a new ghoul to their unique way of living.
Dew only hoped that he wasn’t too late to make amends, and wouldn’t be too late to save Rain. Only now, with the threat of losing them hanging over his head, did Dew realize exactly what was at stake and how much his pack meant to him. He hadn’t had a detailed plan when he took off towards the Abbey and was no closer to forming one now, but if anyone could help him find a way out of this mess for Rain, it was Copia and the ghoulettes. With knowledge well beyond his human years, perhaps he would know of an extra powerful incantation, one which could smite the village while leaving the ghouls intact. Maybe Mist could help them locate such a spell in the library, or a way for Rain to cheat death despite the mob’s murderous intentions? Dew was certain the five of them, regardless of their magic, wouldn’t stand a chance at saving Rain and escaping with an entire village baying for blood otherwise.
On the evening of the second hard day of travel, both Dew and the horse were tired and hungry. Dew had stolen food and hay when he could, but they were both beginning to flag. As they turned a bend in the road, the curling spire of the Abbey rose from the darkening treetops in front of them. It drew closer and closer, and Dew felt his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He was scared of returning after so long, scared of the reception he would receive after the way he left. The Dewdrop of before had been too proud to ask for help and yet too desperate to assert himself, he had allowed himself to be squeezed into the box of their expectations to the detriment of his very identity and his happiness.
This time however, Dew was a different ghoul. He had grown in confidence through the kindness of his pack, and would allow himself to take up space. Most importantly, Dew had something which had been so sorely lacking in his life before: purpose. He had a pack to save, a reason to face his fears, and the determination to right the mistakes of his past.
As the horse skidded to a halt outside the imposing oak doors of the Abbey that he had sworn never to see again, he was finally prepared to do something he had never done in his life before. Dewdrop was going to ask for help.
#cw angst#cw accidental misgengering#cw self hatred#dew is scared y'all#dew makes decisions that hurt him mentally and physically#trans dewdrop#trans ghouls#parental issues#gender dysphoria#found family#starvation#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#what you've done you cannot undo#foot of the gallows marriage#medieval au#historical au#enemies to lovers#ghost#ghost bc#dewdrop ghoul#rain ghoul#raindrop#ghost fanfiction#em writes
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
ㅤ.ೃ࿐ 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ yeah, i'm indulging myself. idc if not a single person cares because I CARE!!! here are all my selfships in no particular order, hehe
જ⁀➴ 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒇𝒖𝒚𝒖 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x chifuyu matsuno
highschool sweethearts, fleeting kisses and passing notes, lipstick stains and oversized hoodies, cuddling by the fire and sharing a hot cocoa, pressed flowers and polaroids, co-parenting a whole zoo of animals together, learning basic first-aid in a panic when chifuyu comes home beaten and bruised after gang activities...
જ⁀➴ 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x bladie
partners in crime, bandaging eachother's wounds, "i would die for you" taken very literally, grumpy x sunshine, two wrongs will sometimes make a right, pestering blade so much he can't help but fall in love, somehow a wolf and bunny fall for eachother and make it work, she falls first but he falls harder
જ⁀➴ 𝒉𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒐𝒂𝒌 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x iwaizumi hajime
childhood friends to lovers, princess treatment, brother’s best friend, home cooked dinners and staying in to watch a movie as a date, morning kisses and sleeping in on the weekends, those pushups where every time you go down, you get to give your partner a kiss; going to the gym together and pushing eachother to be better
જ⁀➴ 𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒌 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x suna rintaro
couples who talk shit together stay together, team manager!oak x pro player suna :>, expensive gifts and glittering necklaces, an anklet with his initials, cheering for him at games and getting dicked down in the locker rooms after, being private but not secret on social media
જ⁀➴ 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒋𝒂𝒙 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x tartaglia
looks like could kill u, is actually a cinnamon roll x looks like a cinnamon roll, could actually kill u; found family, a princess and her bodyguard, he would genuinely kill for me i'm not even kidding, dumb and dumber, stupid idiots pining to stupid idiots in love, scary dog privilege galore
જ⁀➴ 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒂𝒌 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x alhaitham
getting put on a research project together and reluctantly becoming friends, forced proximity, eventually falling in love when i realize hey.. this guy really isn't so bad (maybe just a little bit haughty, but when you're alhaitham it's a little bit deserved to be that way), reading books together by the fire, always getting third-wheeled by kaveh, alhaitham is emotionally constipated but with me, he slowly learns that opening up is okay.
જ⁀➴ 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒌 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x scaramouche
i hate everyone but you, enemies/rivals to lovers, we may be broken but we are still capable of love, healing together, late night study dates and far too many coffees, being haters together, dumbass used as a term of endearment, very intense fights and even more intense love, two freaks who don't know how to handle their emotions learn how to do so together
જ⁀➴𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x aventurine
two lost and weary souls finding a home in eachother, holding aven and comforting eachother through our nightmares, making bets on silly little things (and lets be real: i lose, majority of the time), luxurious gifts and constantly being spoiled with extravagant dates, beating the shit out of him constantly for gambling his life and having no regard for his self-preservation (but not telling him i was worried because my pride. he knows, though).
જ⁀➴ 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒌𝒐𝒕𝒔𝒖 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x yuta okkotsu
two bumbling flustered idiots in love, everyone around us knows we like eachother EXCEPT for us, i'm so serious the entire friend group has to shove us together for us to realize, being eachother's first (and last) everything, cafe dates and sharing the sweetest of desserts, constantly gossiping together
જ⁀➴ 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒊 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x aki hayakawa
princess treatment galore, long late night drives together, being taken care of after years of being the caretaker (and it goes both ways), aquarium dates and shark plushies, lounging on the balcony of his apartment and smoking together, being a happy little hayakawa family because nothing bad ever happens in chainsaw man. trust.
જ⁀➴ 𝒐𝒂𝒌𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍 ₊˚ෆ
— oak x boothill
this is truly my good girl x bad boy fantasy im so serious, shy girl x boldest boyfriend in the west, boothill teaches me how to shoot, more tba im tipsy rn but i wanted him in here NEOOWW
જ⁀➴ 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒂𝒌 ₊˚ෆ
— dr. ratio x oak x aventurine
arguably my most selfish selfship yet, but that’s the name of the game baby!, once again princess treatment galore, stay-at-home dates and (reluctant, on ratio's end) cuddle piles, aventurine lowkey becomes a sugar daddy basically, babysitter x dumb x even dumber, being their trophy girlfriend is a full time job (but i wouldn’t have it any other way), late night deep talks nestled together, reading in bed with ratio while aventurine yaps away about his schemes
there's so many. i'm not sorry. find my selfshippy blog here!!
#oakie’s selfships ☆#dividers courtesy of @/cafekitsune :)#made this back when i still had all the rinne headers and ngl im too lazy to change it#so he gets to be the header here <3#there are so many but idc. i love them all. so bad#these fuckers truly have my heart and soul#posting this and immediately going to bed bc im SHY#NO ONE LOOK AT ME
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Golden Like Daylight | Diasomnia
Synopsis: Malleus couldn’t make it to the party in Scarabia that Kalim invited him and, as usual, Diasomnia falls into quiet sadness and frustrated thunderstorms. He thinks about all his parents taught him and how the world can really be cruel sometimes. But after the most violent storms in the nightfall, there are little glimpses of daylight as well.
platonic diasomnia family / angst with a comfort ending / based on ch10, vol 2 comic anthology ft. my own lore hcs / 1945 words
Notes: Since half of this fic deals with my hcs about the Valley of Thorns in general, I made a separate post that will summarize it so we don’t have long ass author notes~~ Also, it’s based on that chapter from the comic anthology but apart from context, it’s not a need to read it to understand this story
Hope you enjoy it!
Golden Like Daylight
Malleus has been alone for much longer than anyone could have imagined. Born into a family of noble blood, all he could remember from early childhood was a lot of people around him, caring and watching over his well-being. His parents always had a glimpse of his special power and told him stories of the glory days of the Valley of Thorns.
But the more time passed, this special and happy atmosphere ended up like wood consumed in the fireplace. Lilia’s presence was one of the few things that truly remained unchanged.
The Lady of Thorns’ gaze grew colder every day. The countenance of the Lord of Thorns, direct son of the Queen, harder than stone. Malleus wanted to believe that they didn’t ever realize how much they left their son aside to deal with the affairs of the kingdom — without rest, just gathering together at dinner. Still, he was almost always aside.
Not that he didn’t understand why. His father worked as second-in-command for the Queen and his wife dealt with diplomatic issues. It was amazing how a place so isolated from the world could have so many problems.
It was only a hundred years after the Last Great Fairy War and they were just organizing the policies of coexistence with neighboring human villages and trying to maintain the peace between the two fairy valleys in which a lot of blood was shed to achieve.
As a prince, Malleus had everything at his disposal. Toys, books, comfortable clothes, access to quality lessons. But he had only one wish. A simple, even silly wish.
“Go outside?,” his mother repeated his words in a confused tone.
The Lord of Thorns took his eyes up from the treaty papers of the new diplomat of the Valley of Flowers, Florian Braginsky — which he was being forced to read — in order to face his son.
“Malleus, why are you talking about this?,” he asked.
“I wanted to see what the eastern mountain village looks like, it is near here. Lilia could take me there.”
The sound of his former tutor’s name made the Lord’s blood boil. How revolting it was to see the man who taught him everything he knew lower himself and abandon all his ideals, those he used to deeply believe. He was right when he said, that night a hundred years ago, that Lilia had lost more than one wing in the Battle of Dornröschen.
“I do not see why you should go. There is a cruel and terrible world beyond the mountains that surround our kingdom. Not even among our own can there be anything greater than mere alliance. These fairies should be grateful every day for the good fortune of being in our presence and keep living,” the Lord of Thorns put down the papers on the table.
The hard thud made Malleus cringe a little. His mother took the papers and arranged them better in a perfect pile.
“Malleus, you know that our species is very rare and therefore, it is not surprising that the other fairies fear us. We don’t want these people to say bad things about or to you. Therefore, above all, you must stay in this castle,” she said to her son, perhaps not as docile as she thought her tone would come out.
The marriage between Mephisto and Tauribeth was, as with Malleus’ grandparents, a way to keep the dragon-fairy species alive. There were really few such families around the valley, the most powerful House managed to rise to the throne — and these were the Draconia, the center of everything being the Queen of Thorns.
Still, Malleus wondered how the most powerful and feared fairies should need to hide from others. Malleus knew about the scars that the human kingdom nearby, now not so numerous, had made in the fairy valleys. His species was one of many clans that still held grudges against them.
However, he wasn’t going to a human village. It was a place inhabited by faeries. Lilia would be next to him, he would be well protected.
“No more talking about it,” his father cut off before Malleus could try to argue once more.
“Yes, sir my father.”
There was a brief sound of doors opening and, for a moment, Malleus had a glimmer of hope as he saw his grandmother enter the dining room. The air around her was heavy but elegant, full of ceremony and honor. As a queen should be — what the young prince should have become from there many hundreds of years ago.
In general, the Queen of Thorns was a little more compassionate to the wishes of her grandson than his parents might like. However, this didn’t mean that she didn’t share the opinion and hesitation of keeping him inside the castle rather than showing the kingdom beyond the heavy wooden doors.
‘Well, well, well,” she said as she sat down on the other side of the table, in a large, thorn-adorned chair just like the one her son was sitting in.
The Queen looked tired and perhaps a little frustrated that Lilia was planning yet another future trip abroad — a distant and sandy land, something alike — in yet another of his usual “whims”.
“What were we talking about?,” the Queen of Thorns asked.
“Nothing, madam my mother,” the Lord said, giving his son a sideways glance to remain silent.
But Malleus had already given up hope of mentioning the village he wanted to visit again.
Over the centuries, he began to wonder at certain times if his parents were not right. Well, they were no longer there with him to face him and silently state how obvious it was. That realization was a sad thought two hundred years ago, not so much nowadays. It was neither time nor age that mattered in the present to Malleus.
The day before, he had been invited by Kalim to a party.
And it folded as it would usually happen: Malleus missed the event due to a mysterious circumstance. Sometimes he didn’t really notice the time, other times others forgot about him.
At the time, Cater forgot to tell him that Kalim’s banquet night had been rescheduled at last minute to that same night. Since Lilia had orchestrated for Malleus to participate in his place, he also couldn’t have known about this sudden change.
In order to help Malleus make friends on his own, things got complicated. As per usual.
Because of this, strong thunder crackled through the skies in Diasomnia and a torrential rain fell on the outskirts of the castle, becoming a misfortune for any student who was outside the dormitory at that moment.
Lilia would like to say that the situation wasn’t so bad because Malleus distributed all the treats and souvenirs he bought in Sam’s store to the students, but his aura didn’t change at any time. Each gift was delivered as if they were objects rescued from a disaster or belongings of deceased soldiers being returned to their families.
It was undeniable that Malleus had a special sense for gifts of the highest quality — of this no one dared to complain. Sebek’s voice competed with the storm outside in all his praise of his generous veteran and sovereign prince.
But Malleus was still in his worst “Nihilleus” form.
Nothing made sense, everything was worthless. That was what his eyes of emerald flames said, burning low. How many times had he been through these situations? How many more would you have to overcome before fate is satisfied with his humiliations?
The world always abandoned Malleus, and he no longer strove to try to hold its sands in his hands. In his thin, light marble fingers there was only loneliness. The nothing. His grandmother sometimes held those same hands and repeated the words of their family.
A Draconia can only trust a Draconia. A fae can only owe to a fae.
He was alone in that vast world that pushed him away with fear and distrust. Just like his father said they would. Malleus sighed, asleep in his own thoughts as he sat on the sofa in the Diasomnia lounge. The place made him feel at home — but sometimes, that was exactly the problem.
His parents were right. He would never leave the confines of the royal castle. He should not, that was his world. The only place where he would be safe and well received. Still, none of this comforted him. Not only would he be completely ignorant of the human world and the other fairies around him, he would be alone.
Always alone, as if trapped in a long night of eternal sleep. For eternity, eyes closed. The rest of his semi-immortal days would be a mere drop in the greatest of oceans. Would he ever die? Impossible. Few things can hurt faes, especially dragon-fairies.
Sitting on his throne of thorns, nothing could reach him. Not even death. Much less life.
“Malleus-sama? Could you teach me more about this gargoyle?”
Malleus awoke from his deep thoughts as if awakened by a kiss of the dawn. Soft morning rays passed gently across his face to bring him out of that dreaded darkness. Thus, Malleus faced Silver who was holding a miniature gargoyle in his hands.
Ever since Lilia had brought that little human into their life, Malleus had wondered what his parents — mainly his father — would think of Silver if they could have had the chance to meet him.
Silver with his crystalline eyes, lilac as the most delicate wildflower. Dedication to the prince of his people — because he was raised among thorns — in every action. A human he could trust.
Malleus knew Silver had pity for him, but there was something in his mercy that didn't make him feel completely ashamed. He then noticed how Sebek continued to praise him, his words worthy of the best books in the Royal Thorns Library. Nearby, Lilia gorged himself on sweets.
A small smile appeared on Malleus’ face almost at the same moment when the rain outside slowed down.
“Well, Silver, this one is a pretty simple model, but…”
Malleus always felt good about talking about gargoyles, maybe that was the benefit Silver had in mind. He remained silent and paid attention to Malleus’ words as much as he could — at least, to understand part of the matter. Soon after, Sebek joined Silver’s side as an avid spectator.
“Um, it reminds me that I had saved some cookies that I made last night,” Lilia suddenly commented. “Let's rock this party, boys!”
The young fellows suddenly jumped off the couch to go after the old fae, trying to convince him that he didn’t need to do this — and “the wise words of the Young Master about gargoyles will feed our hearts enough!!”, as Sebek said.
Watching them closely, Malleus let out a soft laugh. He was incredibly grateful for the company and patience of those three.
They were golden like daylight.
The thin rays of sunshine that appeared after the gray clouds of rain stopped its dreadful crying, slowly making it into a new time to step outside. Of course it wouldn’t be enough forever. Malleus needed to learn more about the world around him, make new friendships and understand the purpose of his own existence.
But sometimes all he needed was his family. Maybe not exactly his grandmother or his parents. Just Lilia and his awful cooking skills and jokes. Just Sebek being this tall, endearing and energetic child. And just Silver being like the morning dawn, sleepy but gently welcoming to view.
Not his servants or soldiers but his friends. Malleus’ friends. Precious lives he loved with all his heart.
Special notes: yes, this is a tiny little reference to “Daylight” by Taylor Swift. It was meant to be a Silver fic, then turned out to be more suited for Malleus, then it just got too deep…
And I’m planning on doing a little omake about Lilia’s cookies. I just thought that randomly inserting some comedy would break the flow here (and it would be too long lol), so I’ll let it for another time. But thanks for reading 🩷
#twisted wonderland#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#silver#twst silver#sebek zigvolt#twst scenarios#twst fanfic#platonic relationships#diasomnia#angst with comfort ending#cherry's writing#cherry's mumbling about twst
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dance scene wip [Orson Krennic/ Tarkin Daughter]
(Okay last post. My week end be so productive but i'm come back to work tomorrow and i have a big big allergic crisis actually. I'm feel a little anxious too so i try to forget it by writing)
Taglist : @fenharel-enaste, @alotofrandomfangirling, @starlady66
Promp: During her sister's wedding, Vicky Tarkin loses her footing and plunges into deep disarray when she discovers that her sister is not marrying the one she loves. Krennic pushes her to her limits.
Orson Krennic POV
Orson Krennic
I had to do something. I couldn't stand there, watching her stare into space as her world was falling apart. It was as if she was dragging mine down to destruction and I couldn't allow her to mess me up like this.
—Dance with me.
She stared at me with her red lips parted, like those bug-gobbling creatures and even that way she was to die for. As silly as she looked, she remained so magnificent that there was not a treasure in this galaxy that could match her.
— Hurry up. I will change my mind and the list goes on.
— Bastard.
She still took my hand and allowed herself to embark on the icy marble of the ball. I placed my hands on her waist as gently as I could and let her hug me, resting her arms on my shoulders as if I was the only bulwark keeping her from collapsing. Her perfume no longer masked the smell of despair, but she still intoxicated me.
I was officially a lost cause.
— Talk to me. I dictated this invitation to her as an order, forcing her to move away from me to look at me with a surprised look. Her mouth was a constant call to crime and I had to find something to occupy my mind before ending this little party sooner than expected.
— These flowers. These are the same as the ones on your pin. Tell me about them. Why do you wear them all the time?
You couldn't miss them, her hair gathered in a bun was strewn with them. They were dispersed in the gold of her hair and the gold of her ribbon set with stones. She blinked, surprised that I noticed this detail in her suit.
— It is not I who carry them, but they who follow me. She pauses, painfully swallows her saliva as if it were a test to tell me what happened next.
��It was my grandmother's favorite flower. That was all. I learned with her how to grow it, it was in front of them that I cried when no one was listening to me, it was while picking it that I thanked her for having always been there for me. And it's also because of them that I'm telling you all this when you don't care.
— It's wrong. Why do you say they follow you ?
—Because it' s. They grow everywhere I go. Wherever I stay. They always end up sprouting.
— Where do the seeds come from?
— Bonadan.
I nearly choked on my saliva.
—You grew flowers on Bonadan?
She hesitates, aware that she has just told me much more than her reason dictated.
—I created an irrigation system that allows me to do this. Yes. I found a consistent way to fertilize the soil on a specific area of the planet.
I giggle nervously. She guesses that I am far from mocking her. Thats genius and that I'm far too proud and arrogant to tell her. Yet she seems hanging on my lips waiting for something like this to come out.
Herhands had slipped down my uniform and I hoped no one had seen the way we were touching. Part of me yearned for it though, as if to provoke the entire Tarkin family into their own turf. I guessed Eléanore's electric gaze above her tender little sister's shoulders and I was convinced that the only thing preventing her from intervening was that she would then have had to justify that she was hanging around the neck of the Grand-Admiral Thrawn instead of being at her husband's on her own wedding day.
—I will never get married.
—How arrogant you are. I spit caught off guard. And why is this idea popping into your head when you are just attending your sister's wedding ?
—Because it's all wrong. Everything is fucking fake. Them, her, everything. Have you seen her? Did you see the way she dragged herself down the aisle, the way he looked at her? Eh ?
— Everything is false. Baby Tarkin. Not just what's going on here, but the world around us. We too are vulgar counterfeits.
Exactly. Said her sparkling eyes. Her gaze was devouring me and I wanted to engulf her in mine.
—Is that why you never got married, Orson? That's why... Huh? You prefer the ephemeral because nothing has corresponded to what you dreamed of.
Exactly.
That was what she could read in me in the look she caught before I turned away from her. It was awful, but she had just exposed me with just a few words and a searing look. And she knew it. And she loved it. Her arms came around my neck again and it was just us on that trail. No one else mattered, the whole space could collapse, we stood here staring at each other like two predators waiting for the other to come charging. Two predators who wanted the other to jump at their throat.
—You're going to have to let me go. She had blown those words against my ear like a delicious breeze.
— Why ?
— Because if I stay here, I'm going to ask you to take me away from here and treat me like them." Exactly the same way.
#director orson krennic#orson krennic x reader#orson krennic#director daddy#director krennic fanfic#director krennic x reader#director krennic#krennicishot#krennic x reader#ben mendelsohn#star wars
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
while we lasted (pt. 3) || b. bradshaw
bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x mitchell!fem!reader
warnings: angsty-ish, language, kinda fluffy if you look hard enough
synopsis: at the height of your separation, you grow to accept your predicament, while bradley finally comes to his senses.
length: 2.5k
a/n: thank you guys for showing this series love! really makes me happy, especially after not posting original works for a long time!🥹
part 1 | part 2 |
When you confessed everything to Maverick that morning, you felt as though you could finally breathe again, that you could finally look your dad in the eye after weeks of not telling him the truth. Despite the hurt you were still reeling from with the separation, something about coming clean with Maverick made the whole thing a lot easier, especially as he held you while you cried.
Something about his motivational pep talks seemed to work like magic too, even while you were growing up. At eleven, he’d taught you the importance of loving yourself when the other, skinnier girls made fun of you for your obvious developments. When you were eighteen and shunned by your peers for refusing to give into their pressure and drink, Maverick simply said that you were a special kind of young girl—the kind who’d go far in life for sticking to her beliefs. Now, as a full grown woman, it almost seemed funny to be confiding in him over something that seemed like silly boy trouble. Only, it wasn’t so silly to you—this was Bradley. This was your first and only serious relationship you’d had and it’d gotten wrecked so badly. Still, despite all that, Maverick found a way with words to ease your heartache.
So, for the first time in almost two months, you felt strong and confident. You’d worked up the courage to drive around, feeling the oceanside breeze through your hair, and start apartment-hunting. You couldn’t live with Maverick forever, though you were sure he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. But you’d noticed he was spending a little more time than normal with Penny Benjamin, and the idea of accidentally catching them together because Maverick wasn’t used to having you home made you shudder. No way you were going through that again. The first and only time it’d happened was on a typical weekend when you were thirteen. Maverick had gone out the night before, and you planned to stay at a friend’s house. But when your plans crumbled, you spent the night in your room. The next morning, Maverick had slept in particularly late, so you decided to wake him up with a bucket of ice water. Only, when you tossed it on his bed, a blonde woman shot up from under the covers, completely naked and screamed bloody murder. Maverick sprinted out of the bathroom, and fought hard to suppress his laughter when he saw you covering your eyes. Needless to say, there was never any miscommunication after that—and you never woke him up with ice water again.
Throughout the afternoon, you toured various apartment buildings in the city. Some were beautiful with gorgeous views of the ocean and spacious kitchens for family gatherings, and others... well, not so much. There was always something. Too much of this, too little of that, a little bit cramped here or there. Not quite exactly what you wanted, so you looked harder. After what seemed like hours, you grew weary and tired of looking—until you found the one. It sat right on the oceanfront, facing the sun, and the view displayed stunning hues of orange and pink in the sky as the sun began to fall. An island in the middle of the kitchen was big enough so that you could probably host Thanksgiving there if you wanted, though it would likely just be you and Maverick… and probably Penny and her daughter. Still, to say the apartment was perfect was an understatement. As luck would have it, the paperwork and everything else was in order and you could begin to move in as early as the next day, but when the building owner asked if you wanted to sign the papers now and make it official, all you said was, “I’ll think about it,” and left.
You’d gone straight back to Maverick’s, expecting to tell him of the day’s almost-successful events, but when you didn’t see his car in the driveway, you were only slightly relieved that you had extra time before having to tell him eventually. The sunset’s colors grew deeper, painting the sky brighter as purple began to fade in, and even the moon started to say hello. With one last thought of “fuck it”, you ran into the garage, gathering the few supplies you needed and quickly changed your clothes, packing a small bag along with you. It was kind of a rare occurrence that you had a moment to yourself since moving in with Maverick. Sure, he’d gone into work and you’d stay home, but even then, your sorrow kept you company.
After arriving at your typical beach spot, you hauled your large beach chair and bag out of the car. The sand nearly buried your feet as you walked along the beach, setting up. Normally, setting up a bonfire was a two-person job for you; hell, it was a two-person activity to enjoy it too, but tonight, you had to make do with what you had. And that was okay. Even though the summer season had barely begun, the nights still got cold, especially next to the water. You searched for the hoodie you know you brought with, just to add onto the cozy warmth of the fire. And your heart sinks when you realize you brought the wrong one. Bradley’s deep blue Navy hoodie almost felt foreign in your fingers after so long; it must’ve gotten mixed up in your drawers when you emptied them out that day. You ran your fingers over the back of it, where it read “BRADSHAW”, and you know you shouldn’t have done it, but you did it anyway—you held the garment up to your nose, inhaling deeply to test your theory.
Yup, it still smelled like him. A mix of sunscreen and the salty ocean along with his cologne had clearly made their home into the fibers of the hoodie. Everything is telling you to put it back, and just enjoy the chill in the air, but you can’t help it—you slip it over your head, practically drowning in how large it is; it hangs over your shorts like a dress. When you’re finally ready to lay back, the sky had already grown dark, stars sprinkling the sky, and the moon in full. The flames crackle and illuminate the beach, and combined with the crashing of the ocean’s waves, soothe you like a natural lullaby.
Maybe it was the peace you found thanks to Maverick’s speeches about learning to accept things we can’t control, or maybe it was the serenity you found in the moment of being surrounded by a beautiful night sky and the ocean—whatever it was, you finally started to feel okay. Like things would fall back into place again. You could already see it: holidays with Maverick and Penny—plus Amelia, of course—, finding a career to settle down with, or maybe go back to school and figure something else out. The future seemed exciting and hopeful. And hope had not been part of your life for a while.
“Thought I’d find you here,” A voice called out from behind you, making you jump a little. The piercingly loud squeak of the small, older, and probably dirty beach chair as it opened a few feet away from you disrupted the tranquility. When Bradley sat down in it, he looked a little ridiculous, being a tall and muscular man sitting in a small chair of such terrible quality. “Don’t you know bonfires are a two-person affair?”
Sinking back into your seat, you continue listening to the sounds of the ocean. Part of you wanted nothing more than to just climb over and hug him and cry and apologize, but you held back. A few weeks ago, you would’ve done so. You probably would’ve made a fool out of yourself in the process, but right now? There were no tears left, there was no more pain that you could possibly feel. “How’d you know where to find me?”
He shrugged from the corner of your eye, “Mav said something about I’d know where you’d be.”
“Oh. So you’re on talking terms again?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh.”
There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to apologize for; if he hadn’t been the stubborn ass he knew he was, you two could’ve been enjoying a bonfire so long ago. But as he sat there next to you, watching your beautiful face light up underneath the dancing flames, he couldn’t find the right words. Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been a memorable moment. The only thing that would’ve made it perfect was if he was closer to you, wrapping his arm around you like he’d always done. Sometimes he would ‘accidentally’ leave one of the chairs at home and bring the bigger one you sat on now because it could fit both of you, just so he had an excuse to be touching you. He knew you saw right through that scheme, but you went right along with it anyway. Thinking about it made a grin creep onto his face. So lost in thought and memory, he hadn’t really paid attention to what you said after. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked if my dad told you I was apartment-hunting. Y’know, since he seems to be telling you things now.” You turned to Bradley for the first time that night since he’d arrived, and you could clearly see the aching pain he’d been going through—you saw it every time you looked in the mirror. His hair was a little disheveled, and looked a little thinner since the last time you saw him, and his eyes were dark and heavy—you hadn’t seen his eyes so full of sorrow since Carole’s funeral.
He shook his head, “Find one you like?”
“I did,” you admitted, and you could see him clench his jaw, a thing he only did when he was either angry or trying to seem tough. You couldn’t really tell which one he was trying to pass off. “Pretty kitchen, nice view of the beach. Nice living room too. Owner said I could move in tomorrow if I wanted.”
Bradley’s head hung low, “Do you-uh-need any help moving?”
You rolled your eyes, “The owner said I could move in tomorrow if I wanted.”
“I-I know, I heard you the first time.” His brows knitted together in confusion. “I’m asking if you want help movi—”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Groaning dramatically in frustration, you quickly sat up and swung your legs to the side of the chair so that you faced Bradley. “I don’t want to move, I don’t want to go anywhere!”
“But I-I thought… why are you looking at apartments then?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Bradley.” you stood up quickly, almost making yourself dizzy. All of a sudden you felt hot, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the fire or the anger that began to boil inside you. You pulled at the hoodie, trying to lift it off your body, but the more you pulled, the more it seemed to trap you, and the angrier you became. Muttering curses under your breath, the stupid thing finally came over your head and you threw it at Bradley, who was now standing only a couple feet away, afraid to approach you.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, walking slowly in your direction. “Baby, please, I-”
“Don’t you ‘baby’ me,” you scoffed. “It’s not fair.”
“Please,” he began, extending his arm out to touch your shoulder. He was surprised you didn’t shake him off, but he took it as an opportunity. “I know why you did it. Mav told me the truth.”
“So the big, bad secret’s out, huh?” You said as your eyes met his, your shoulder tingling where his hand touched the bare skin of your shoulder.
Bradley nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Protecting my mom,” he said. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you to keep it from me, so thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Carole. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being mad at her. Rather you be mad at me instead.”
You didn’t know it, but Bradley didn’t think his heart could break even more until you said that. He loved his parents more than anything or anyone—until he discovered his feelings for you all those years ago. And for you to play the martyr, just so he kept thinking highly of his mom, killed him inside. Placing his hands on either side of your face, he leaned down so that your foreheads touched. “Please, come back home,” he said in a low voice. “I need you. I don’t know how I'm supposed to keep going when the love of my life isn't waking up next to me.”
“You still love me?” you practically whispered.
“I never stopped.”
Your lips were dangerously close to Bradley’s, and his eyes couldn't help but linger on the sight of them. He didn't understand that the way they were still rosy underneath the night sky and a little chapped somehow made him fall deeper in love. You could tell he was still afraid to make a move, desperate to avoid ruining the moment. Taking initiative, you press your lips softly against his, and he responds eagerly like a man starved. The only reason he pulls away is because he feels you shiver. The fire you’d built was only really big enough for one person, and the flames no longer danced brightly as they had when you first built it; instead, they mellowed out, and provided only slight warmth.
“Sorry I threw your hoodie at you,” you apologized. “Can I wear it again?”
Bradley laughs as he tosses it back to you, watching you shimmy your way back into it again. “Baby, it was never mine. Not after it found its way into your side of the dresser.”
As you wrapped your arms around Bradley’s waist, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before engulfing you in a hug. He squeezed you tightly, afraid that if he let go, he’d lose you again. Bradley could’ve stayed like that forever, holding you beneath the stars, listening to the waves; but he also knew you, so he wasn’t offended when you climbed back onto the giant beach chair because your legs were getting tired from standing there in the cool ocean breeze.
“Got any extra room on there?” He asked.
You pat your hand on the empty space next to you, “Always.”
With a stupidly wide grin on his face, Bradley wasted no time in sliding next to you, and holding you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed soothed you better than the crashing waves or crackling fire. Glancing up at Bradley, you had a hard time believing that after all the suffering, here you you both were again, like nothing had ever happened. You placed a gentle kiss on his jaw, earning a sly smile from him; and you stayed together like that until the fire died.
Then Bradley lit another one, refusing to let the moment die.
And all was right in the world again because deep down, both of you knew that the love you shared would last forever.
#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#bradley rooster x reader#rooster fluff#fanfic#rooster bradshaw fic#top gun maverick#top gun fic#rooster angst#imagine#fluff#i didn't proofread lol#sorry for hurting you hope this makes up for it#they made up#screaming crying i want this lmao#miles teller#i hope this is good lmao#bradley bradshaw x reader
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ora looked down at the ring on her finger and sighed. She’d been doing that a lot since her fiance left. It wasn’t supposed to be long; just for his brother’s coronation. Sadly, it had been over a year at this point.
“Ima, what are you doing?” A voice asked, and she looked up with a smile.
“Hey Jor. Just missing your parental.”
The large man sat next to her and rested his head on her shoulder. “I get that. I miss him too. Wanna come for a swim? take your mind off everything?”
She hummed. “Maybe later? I was thinking about making some cookies. Plus, you’ve gotta lie low for a while. You were almost caught on camera last week.”
He made a face. “Being subtle sucks. I’d rather take after you than Loki.”
“I’m not even blood related.” She laughed.
“I know, but you still just kind of...adopted us. You’re family.”
“I’m like 1/8 your age. But thank you.”
“Of course Ima. Want a taste tester for the cookies?”
Before she could answer, another man came outside. “Ima, you’ve gotta get in here. The news!” The shaggy one scooped her up without warning. “Hey Jor. You’re gonna wanna see this too. Don’t worry, fresh layer of sand in the house.”He dashed inside and set Ora on the couch in front of the tv.
there was a news broadcast showing the beginnings of an alien invasion in New York City. “Oh! That’s...”
“Not the aliens. They don’t matter.” Fenrir shook his head. “Well, I mean, sucks for New York, but... Watch.”
Soon enough, there was a shot of Stark Tower and a very familiar green and gold clad figure apparently leading the invasion. “Loki!!” Ora exvlaimed.
“Exactly! How quickly do you think we can get there?”
“Not before it’s all over. We’re on hte other side of the country and I bet the airports are closed. And.. Shit, look. Thor is fighting him. Something else is going on here.” Ora was doing her best to stay calm. She was terrified as she watched someone with an actual bow and arrow shoot her fiance and the arrow exploded. What if he died!! “We can’t do anything boys. If your other brother was here, then maybe but...” Both of her adopted sons hugged her tight as she returned the gesture. They watched in horror and fear that Loki was going to die.
A week later, Fenrir was pacing. “I still think I should go to Asgard.”
“No. I’m not risking losing you too.” Ora disagreed. The bags under her eyes were starting to take over her face. She hadn’t slept since the failed invasion. “We have to wait.”
“Ima, you’re falling apart. If he could’ve come home, he would have. What if Odin takes inspiration from your mythology?”
“I’m aware Fenrir! But if you go barreling in and start poking around they’re going to lock you up too, then they’re gonna go after jor and leave me completely alone to just sit here and rot away!” She cried, frustrated tears pricking her eyes.
“Oh Ima.” Fenrir stopped pacing and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. “They can’t take me away now. Mor made sure of it. And I would never leave you for long, even if they broke the law and took me.”
Ora smiled softly at him and kissed his cheek. “Tahnk you sweetheart. I appreciate you.”
He gave her a squeeze and went back to pacing. “I appreciate you too. I’m just...”
“Nervous. Me too.” She looked out over the ocean, chuckling softly as Jor leaped out of a wave and did a silly pose.
“Ugh, show off.”
“Like you don’t do the same thing with your hunting.” She teased.
#self insert#loki#fire’s writings and drabbles#Loki fic#loki laufeyson#au of an au#Loki is gender fluid#adopting his kids#mix of MCU and mythology#i do what i want
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marigold // jmk // pt. 11
Summary: After staying behind while Danny goes on tour, you do everything you can to salvage your relationship. Will you be successful? Or will you find refugee elsewhere?
Word Count: ~6.6k
Warnings: none really! a bit of anxiety and crying, but nothing severe
A/N: i can’t apologize enough for the hiatus. thank you for everyone still waiting on this series, i appreciate you all for sticking with me. i’m sad to say that this will be the last chapter of marigold. we may see bip in the future, but for now, i hope you enjoy the conclusion of this series.
playlist // Chamomile Masterpost // Marigold Masterpost
Part 11
Can we talk?
You stared at the three words, thoughts racing faster than you could control.
You searched for any hidden meanings that were possibly veiled in what could’ve been considered a harmless sentence.
You imagined this as another ploy to start a fight. A chance for him to finally let you have all the pent-up anger from seeing you. A chance for him to trap you and accuse you of breaking his heart.
Maybe you should’ve felt silly for overanalyzing such a short message, but you just couldn’t understand why. Why he’d even reach out. Why he’d text instead of just calling. What he possibly had to talk about. Why now?
Aside from it all, you felt almost guilty upon receiving the message. Sure, it wasn’t your fault that he was texting you - up until this point, he still had your number blocked - but there was something about it that made you uneasy. Something about getting a text from your ex-boyfriend, innocent or not, made your stomach rumble and your skin crawl.
You looked at the sleeping boy wrapped around you, hoping that he hadn’t begun to stir from the bright light of your phone illuminating the space. You scanned his features, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace, his face pressed against the pillow beside you. It seemed as if Josh was still sleeping soundly against you, completely oblivious to the situation at hand.
You wish you were that lucky.
Things hadn’t progressed since you got back from their tour. Sure, you had been able to exist in the same room as each other for a day, and sure, you had even smiled at one another. But after that, things went back to how they had been. You stepped off the plane and went your separate ways. No contact. Nothing.
Was this a step in the right direction?
Josh leaves in an hour. Call me then.
After you saw your message deliver, you locked your phone and placed it back under your pillow. There was no use in trying to go back to sleep, especially with Josh getting up soon for some family excursion that his mom had set up, but you at least wanted to try and rest while you could. You convinced yourself that it would only be a simple phone call. Something that just happened and would help your relationship with the group return to normalcy. It may even bring you closer to Josh. Closing one door, allowing yourself to fully enter the other.
Eventually, you were able to push it out of your mind enough to act as normal as possible.
But once the hour passed, Josh still scurrying around your apartment to gather any forgotten items, you became antsy, fearing that Danny would call at any moment. You shifted nervously at the edge of the bed as you watched your boyfriend flit about the room and stuff miscellaneous belongings in his bag. You felt hyper aware of your phone, as if it were burning a hole into the pillow it was tucked under.
And of course, Josh noticed.
“I know I’m leaving for a bit,” he said, looking at you warily. “-but you look like you’re gonna throw up.”
You huffed a laugh, glancing towards your hands to avoid his gaze. “Just gonna miss you.”
It wasn’t a lie, but you hated how well he was at reading you.
“I’m gonna be away for less than 48 hours, mama.” He was smiling, but his brows were knitted with concern. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Josh. Really. I probably just-”
When you finally looked back up at him, you could no longer give your made-up excuses. His frown made you swallow any malice or frustration that you had, and you instantly regretted your tone with him. You sighed, digressing from your bluff. It should’ve been simple, but you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation to him. It was an easy ‘Danny texted me,’ but your lips couldn’t form the sentence.
Your hand was reaching under the pillow before you realized what you were doing. You unlocked your phone to show the messages to Josh, but before you could hand him the device, you froze. You had missed a message, and soon you understood why he hadn’t called you as soon as the hour passed.
I’d rather talk in person. Come over?
“Y/N, seriously, you’re scaring me.” Josh had begun to cross the room, and he was standing over you within what felt like seconds.
The idea of seeing Danny - by yourself - made your mouth run dry. You had only been able to be around him because of Josh. He had been your saving grace, the force that kept you grounded and seemingly unphased by your ex-boyfriend’s initial reaction to you. But now, you wouldn’t have that. In minutes, Josh would be leaving you alone to fight your own battle, and you were quickly realizing that you were unsure of your abilities to do so.
Without responding to the message in front of you, you handed your phone to Josh. And you waited. You waited for him to burst at the seams with anger. To be mad at you for even entertaining the idea of talking to Danny. To seem betrayed that you didn’t come clean first thing this morning. But he didn’t.
In fact, he seemed relieved as his eyes came across the conversation. A smile even flashed across his features as he sighed and handed your phone back to you.
“I was wondering when he would reach out,” he said, rubbing a hand on your cheek before turning his back to you. He returned to the task of packing his things, his demeanor seeming much too cool for the circumstances.
“You knew?” You were suddenly able to find your voice again, confusion evident in your response.
Yet again, he shrugged as if it were no big deal. “He talked to me first. Asked if it was okay that he wanted to talk to you.”
You let the statement sit in the air for a moment, processing just what was said. What it meant.
Danny had already talked to Josh about whatever it was that he wanted. Josh knew, and he was okay with it. Danny had gone out of his way to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries, but for some reason, you still felt uneasy about it.
“What does he want?” You asked hesitantly, looking back at the messages in front of you.
“I don’t think I’m the one who needs to answer that, Bip. I know it’s scary, but I think you should go. If it all goes wrong, you can blame me.” With his bag set up by the door of your bedroom, he shot you a smile and returned to you, sitting beside you after kissing the top of your head. “I’d go with you if I could.”
You sighed. “I don’t know…”
“It’ll be fine,” he promised softly, nudging your shoulder with his own. “I’m not gonna try to convince you to stay or go. But… do what you need to do, okay? Whatever that may be.”
If you had ever forgotten why you had fallen in love with him in the first place, this was sure to remind you. He was always gentle with you, understanding in every way, rationalizing everything you overthought. His reassurance provided the comfort you needed to calm down, to face the task at hand with a level head. His love, his compassion, was enough to make you feel capable to conquer whatever feat you were faced with. You pitied people who didn’t get to see him in the ways you did.
“I love you, Josh,” you responded finally.
He smiled at you, placing a tender hand on your cheek to draw you nearer and close the distance between you.
God, you’d never get enough of him.
“I love you, too,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing you once more before reluctantly pulling away. “Walk me to the car?”
You nodded with a smile. “Of course.”
–
It was hard to believe that you were able to come to a decision and stick to it. You imagined you would’ve turned around and walked away from the door almost as soon as you knocked on it. But here you stood, outside the front doors of the boys’ shared home, waiting on someone you used to be enthusiastic about seeing. Your heart would’ve been beating erratically with excitement of being alone with Danny. You would’ve imagined all of the possibilities that may arise, and once you had started dating, you would’ve thanked every higher being for allowing you time to have him to yourself for a moment.
But now, you weren’t full of excitement. You weren’t eager to see the man you once loved. You were just afraid. You were fearing what would happen once you entered their home, and that fear almost caused you to get back in your car and leave. You fancied that option, relishing in how relieving it would feel to just forget about this whole ordeal. But when the door finally opened with Danny standing on the other side, you knew there was no turning back.
He looked good. Tired, but good. You had adjusted to his new appearance enough to see that - although it was different from the Danny you once knew - it fit him. He had grown into the look.
He wore an expression of astonishment, yet he donned an almost pained smile.
“You came,” he breathed, almost as if he believed you wouldn’t have shown up. Not that you blamed him. You hadn’t responded to his message, not wanting to agree to something you weren’t sure you’d stay true to.
There was a twinkle in his eyes, and there was something in the way he looked at you that made your cheeks run hot. You quickly looked at your feet to break eye contact. “I did.”
He took a deep breath before moving out of the doorway and motioning for you to come inside, which you obliged. “Can I get you anything?”
You shook your head as you moved past him. “No, I'm fine. Thank you.”
Your answer sat in silence for a moment while you stood in the familiar space of the living room. You started to feel the awkwardness of the situation creep on you, and you began to overthink everything. Had you sounded rude by turning down his offer? Were you supposed to say something else? Should you have even come here?
“You look good.” The tentative compliment tumbled out of his lips and interrupted your thinking.
That was different. It was a simple nicety, something you should have been used to, but you certainly weren’t expecting. You were in simple jeans and a band tee, nothing too flashy to applaud.
“T-thank you, Danny,” you answered softly, unsure if you should return the phrase to him. Would he get the wrong idea if you did?
He worked his lips to form another smile before gesturing to the sofa. “We should, uh, sit?”
You made note of his distance as he sat. He shared the couch, but he was far enough away from you that he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. He picked up on your uneasiness, just as he always had in years past.
“I asked you to come here so we could talk,” he started, quickly clarifying himself. “So I could apologize.”
Oh, you thought. So we’re jumping right into this.
Your fingers wrung together as you tried to desperately keep yourself occupied. “Okay.”
“And you don’t have to stay, not if you don’t want to. You can leave at any point, and…” He trailed off, as if he knew his next words would hurt. “...and we won’t have to talk again. If that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t. It was far from what you wanted. But you couldn’t manage to tell him that. You could only sigh and remain focused on your sweating, shaking hands.
“So…I’m sorry,” Danny continued, knowing that he needed to be the one to start the conversation, as difficult as it was. “I don’t have an excuse for what I did, and I don’t want to make any excuses for myself. I just… want you to know that I realize I'm in the wrong here. And as much as I want your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve it in the least bit.”
And for the second time today, you waited. You sat and waited for yourself to wake up. To come out of this spell where everything you had been hoping to hear was finally materializing. But you didn’t. You didn’t wake up because this wasn’t a dream. This was real, this was Danny apologizing.
You didn’t forgive him, but you knew that saying so would only escalate things. You didn’t forgive him, but you appreciated his apology. You didn’t forgive him, but every beat of your heart was telling you to.
You sighed, trying to formulate your thoughts so this could go as smoothly as possible. “You fell out of love, that’s not your fault.”
His head cocked to the side, and he studied you carefully before speaking. He seemed to be replaying your response over and over in his mind, trying to see if he had heard you right. His voice was all but a whisper when he finally spoke again. “Do you really think that’s what happened?”
The question sounded rhetorical almost, so you stayed silent.
Danny was shaking his head at your rigid form. “I was stupid, I was an ass, but I never once stopped loving you.”
You scoffed at his dismissal. “You can't call that “love,” Danny. There’s no way.”
“It was love. Every fucking night… It was always love.” There was a stern tone hiding behind a mask of desperation. It resembled the nights you’d argue about god knows what, knowing the conversion was fruitless in the end. You had always given in to him then. You’d always let him win, even if you knew he was at fault, just so you could move on. But not now.
Now, his persistence infuriated you. It lit a fire under you, one that was quickly spreading faster than you could control.
“Always love? Radio silence, occasional booty calls, sometimes just downright ignoring me? That’s love to you?” The pure disbelief made it impossible to manage the volume of your voice, the intensity making him cower back in an instant.
“Bip…”
“No, Danny,” you interrupted, snapping your head to look at him. “You called me here, and I truly want to forgive you, but I’m not sure you even know what you’re apologizing for.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but knowing better than to make things worse, he digressed. Suddenly, he became the one trying to avoid your gaze. His eyes fell to the floor, fixated yet not looking at anything in particular.
“I waited on you. I waited on you to snap out of whatever fucking daze you were in and realize that I was still here. That I was still your Bip, even from miles away, through the arguments, through the weeks of not hearing from you. I waited. And once you finally told me what you wanted, you still barely said anything at all. All of a sudden, you wanted nothing to do with me, and you didn’t give a shit about how that made me feel. And you have the nerve to call that love?”
His silence indicated that he knew you were right. That although he never stopped loving you, he stopped showing you that he loved you. And that’s exactly where he went wrong.
Of course he cared about your feelings about everything he did. He felt like shit for hurting you, but in that moment, ending the relationship seemed as if it was easiest. It was much easier to rid himself of one responsibility while he had so much going on. He had gotten rid of the burden that he carried from having you around while he couldn’t give you the consistency that you needed. That you deserved.
You were a priority of his, you always have been. But you weren’t his first priority.
You sighed, choosing to look away from him as tears clouded your vision. The deep breath helped ground you. Although you were still exasperated with emotion, you could slow down, allow yourself to be vulnerable, and speak your mind.
“I've been afraid that Josh is going to leave me one day.”
That’s when Danny looked back up at you, his expression just as incredulous as his tone. “Why do you think that?”
You couldn’t help the eye roll that occurred before you answered, but you still spoke softly, carefully. “I never thought you’d leave me. We made promises. We were basically kids when we met and yet we still planned a future together. We were the sweethearts that everyone knew would end up in love. We were that couple. If we couldn’t last then how could I expect Josh and I to-”
The words were cut off by a choked sob that you weren’t aware you were holding in. Finally letting out the tears that suffocated you felt almost cathartic, but what Danny saw- what he heard - broke his heart.
You were right. He didn’t know what he was apologizing for. He knew he messed up, he knew he hurt you, and he knew you deserved an apology. But until now - until he saw your body shake as the tears streamed down your face, until he saw you physically unable to look at him - he didn’t realize just how badly this had affected you.
When he saw you and Josh together, he would have no idea that you were concerned about the stability of the relationship. In his eyes, you essentially seemed to be one step away from marriage, stuck in a honeymoon phase that would never cease to exist, even if it had been only a few months. But now he finally saw that, while everything seemed to be perfectly fine with you and Josh, you were constantly plagued with worries. And it was all Danny’s fault.
He waited a moment, searching for the right words to say, debating if he should say anything at all.
“He’d be stupid to leave you,” he whispered.
Although you still couldn’t manage to look at him, the sentiment reduced your crying, and Danny saw that as a win.
“It was my fault that we didn't work out,” he continued. “The fame, on top of finally having you after years of being crazy about you… I just couldn’t handle it all at once. You helped me find the confidence I needed, but that confidence quickly turned into cockiness and I was immature and-”
He took a shaky breath to quell his rambling. “-and I have no way of knowing just how bad I hurt you, but please believe me when I say… I'm so sorry, Bip. So fucking sorry.”
Danny watched as you looked to the ceiling, seeming to wish away the tears as you tried to compose yourself. He noticed you nibbling at your quivering lip, and he could imagine the various things running through your mind. It reminded him of all the times you had come to him for things like this, venting and ranting about whatever was going on. Reminded him of the times you’d lean on him when you were hurt, trusting that his embrace would comfort you. But now he couldn’t even do that.
He’d never forgive himself for this.
“I didn’t want to make you cry again,” he spoke softly, trying to fill the silence with something while he shifted uncomfortably in his place beside you.
You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. “It’s just…a lot, Danny.”
“I know,” he agreed. “I should’ve done this sooner.”
You felt him scoot closer to you, the space on the couch that had once been empty, now occupied by him. There were still a couple of inches that separated your bodies, but he was close enough that you could feel the heat that radiated from him. You could smell his cologne. You could sense the same comfort that he exuded in years past.
“You don’t deserve to feel insecure in your relationship because of someone else. Josh is fucking in love with you, almost to the point where it’s embarrassing, really.” He paired the quip with a husky chuckle before he continued. “But he really cares about you, and he gives you the consistency that I struggled to give. He’d do anything for you.”
For some reason, you did find comfort in his words. They were reassuring in a way that was foreign to you. You no longer felt the lingering urge to keep crying, you found it easier to breathe, and you felt the tension melt from your muscles.
“I saw he took you out for your birthday,” Danny noted, only slightly changing the subject. He saw that talking about Josh’s love for you seemed to help, and as much as it pained him, he knew it was what you needed.
And when he saw your lips turn into a smile, he knew that he was right.
“He did,” you responded.
“You looked…wonderful. That dress was absolutely perfect for you.” He marveled with a smile. The expression wavered, however, as he started his next sentence. “Is that when…?”
He trailed off, unable to finish his question. You could only imagine how he was trying to tiptoe around the subject, avoid the self-anguish and intrusion on the privacy of your relationship. There were so many things he could’ve asked. So many things he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know how. Is that when you realized you loved him? Is that when you guys made things official? Is that when he finally managed to make you forget all about your past relationship?
“Kinda,” you answered, assuming that all of his potential questions would have essentially the same answer. “It’s complicated.”
He managed a soft smile. “I want to hear about it, if you’ll tell me.”
“Danny-”
“I mean it,” he interrupted. “Really.”
And he did. It hurt to know that he would no longer be the one to make you happy. It hurt to know that you had already moved on. It hurt to know that you were happy while he was not. But he needed to. He needed to hear you say that you were satisfied with what you had now. He needed to know how your new relationship came about, that Josh hadn’t taken advantage of you while you were at your lowest. He wanted to hear you rave about the man you were in love with, because to Danny, he knew that might be the only way he’d see you smile again. He wanted to know what your side of it was, how you reacted and how you felt at the end of it all, and how Josh had come to pick you up when you were at your lowest.
So you told him. You explained every detail, every bit of the story from your point of view. You picked up from moments before Danny had texted you to break things off. You carried on through the next week or so, describing each little event and emotional rollercoaster. Danny listened with a pained, yet genuine, smile as you babbled about the things Josh did to make you feel better. You talked to him as you would about any other crush or significant other in your past. And now as you ended your retelling with happy tears and a beaming smile, he could see his best friend again. He saw you no longer as his ex, the girl whose heart he broke; he saw you as Bip. His Bip.
“I like the way he treats you,” Danny acknowledged once you had concluded.
“Josh?” It was obvious who he was talking about, but his genuine remark took you by surprise. You hadn’t expected him to say such a thing.
He nodded. “Yeah. Just seeing you guys together, it makes sense.”
“Oh.” You knew you didn’t need his approval, but finally having it made something inside you almost feel content. Almost. “You’re not… mad?”
“No,” he huffed a laugh, shaking his head at your question. “I mean, I was at first. God, I was livid. Especially seeing those first few pictures of you two, I just… couldn’t grasp the fact that I had really lost you. But, I'm glad he took care of you. I’m glad that he is taking care of you.”
“I’m glad, too,” was all you could muster in response. Your smile slowly began to fade, but you weren’t too sure why.
“Then that’s all that matters. Don’t worry about what I think.”
Danny noticed your reservation. No matter how much he was trying to assuage your worries and reassure you that he was okay with this - at least as okay as he could be - he couldn’t help but catch on to your distant nature. He nudged your side a bit, hoping that his playfulness would ease whatever was troubling you.
“I mean it,” he continued. “Really, I’ll be okay. I just want you to be happy. You’re happy with him, right?”
You nodded, however your tone was still low, face still sullen, body language still closed off. “Very. He’s good to me.”
The sudden lack of emotion in your response caused Danny to raise an eyebrow at you. “And you’re sure?”
“Positive.” You huffed a laugh at the protective connotations behind his questioning. But you wanted to be sincere with him. You were plagued with a feeling you needed to sort through with him. As easy as it would be to continue with your indifference, you knew that this might be your only chance to put it all out in the open. Everything you were feeling, everything you had felt throughout this situation, deserved to be said. “I just- never mind.”
“No, don’t do that,” Danny chided, turning slightly to face you. He even placed a hand on your knee to bring your attention back to him, the action sending electricity through your body. “Talk about how you’re feeling, nothing is going to get resolved if you don’t.”
You sighed and searched for the words that would convey the millions of emotions and thoughts you were experiencing. “All of this… sitting here and talking to you… it’s surreal.”
He took a minute to respond, and you had to glance from his hand to his face to make sure he was still paying attention to the conversation. Finally, he questioned you with a tilted head. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. We’ve always had each other. We’ve always been ‘it’ for each other, and I thought I’d have you forever. And when you left, I convinced myself I’d never be able to see or talk to you again.” You were repeating yourself, you knew that, but it was the only way you could instill a decent explanation. “But here we are.”
He nodded and looked away from you, ridden with guilt again and not entirely sure what to say next. “Here we are…”
The words hung in the air, and the tension seemed to thicken. There was a sticky residue left from you starting this conversation, now it was your turn to clean up your messes.
“Can I tell you something?” You blurted.
Mixed in with the sigh that escaped him, you heard the word “Anything.”
“Don’t get me wrong when I say this… I hate what you did. I can’t tell you how fucking bad it hurt, but somehow…well-” You paused, already embarrassed by what you were about to say. You wondered if you should even say it to begin with. “Would it be insane to say that I miss you? Us? I mean, it all ended so fast I-”
You scoffed at yourself, annoyed with how flustered you were becoming with this conversation. This was Danny, your best friend. You should feel comfortable enough to tell him how you felt.
“You were my first real love,” you continued. “And we had so many firsts together. I just didn’t really get to savor all of our ‘lasts’, you know?”
“Lasts?”
You breathed a hurried sigh. “Do you remember our last kiss? Our last ‘I love you’? Fuck, even our last phone call?”
Danny seemed to think about it for a moment, recounting the memories of your relationship, but finding that it was no use. Of all the things he remembered, those were certainly not easily accessible. “...No.”
“Exactly,” you proceeded. “Neither do I.”
His thumb rubbed against the seam of your pants, making you hyper-aware of his hand placement and how long it had been there. But did you really mind?
You continued with your weak attempt at an explanation. “We focus so much on those firsts that… when the lasts come, we don’t even fucking realize it. We don’t get the closure we need. And I don’t really know what I'm saying, but I-“
In a motion completely unexpected by you, you felt your face colliding with another. Danny’s.
He kissed you.
He is kissing you.
It felt just like it had back then. Back before all of this. Careful, unhurried, and completely focused on the present. You could feel the love he had for you, the feelings that still reside. And yet, you could also sense the hints of loneliness behind the kiss, something that hadn’t been there in the past.
It felt right. But oh, so wrong.
You shouldn’t enjoy this. You shouldn’t be appreciating how his lips fit perfectly with yours, like a key to a lock. You shouldn’t be thinking about the leftover taste of toothpaste in his mouth, the same kind that he’d always used and kept a tube of at your place. Or the taste of the same Chapstick flavor he would always argue with you about being the best kind. You shouldn’t acknowledge that, as horrible as the pairing of the two was, the taste was familiar, comforting.
His hand had shifted from your knee to your thigh, and you could tell by the way he was squeezing it that there was a piece of him that desperately wanted to deepen the kiss, but the hesitance was too strong. His other hand had moved to your cheek, holding you to him for as long as you’d let him.
It wasn’t until you felt that sweet burn in your lungs from lack of oxygen that made you detach your lips from his. He didn’t protest the movement, but you heard him sigh with disappointment.
Your fingers wrapped around his as you pulled his hand from your face, holding it gently in your lap and watching as his thumb caressed the soft skin on your knuckles. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you knew he was looking at you with an intensity that you couldn’t quite place.
You sighed to yourself, knowing how difficult it would be to move on from what had just happened. “Dan…”
“You said you wanted closure…” His interruption was a warm welcome, especially considering you had no idea where to start. You noted how gravely his voice had become, something that had always happened after he kissed you. “Is that enough closure for you?”
No, you wanted to scream. You didn’t want closure. Closure would mean that there was no turning back, no return to what had become so normal for you both. You didn’t want closure. Closure would mean that the end was no longer near. It was now right in front of you.
“Look, I’ll never stop telling you I love you, even if I can only say it platonically. I’m still gonna bother you with phone calls just like I used to. You don’t have to worry about those ‘lasts’... but this-” he paused, squeezing your hand to further drive his point. “This is different... I know I won’t get to kiss you again, and I probably shouldn’t have then, but I- I miss you, too. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you.”
The admission sat in silence while you both ruminated on his words. Of course, you had always wanted to hear him say things like this. You wanted to hear that you meant as much to him as he meant to you. You wanted to hear that you weren’t the only one adjusting to the feeling of loss, of grief. You wanted to hear that you got your best friend back, but his words still wrenched your heart.
It hit you. Although you knew exactly who you’d choose when given the chance, no matter what, someone would be hurt by your decision. You could imagine the smile that would creep up on his face, beaming from being told that he was still the one for you, elated that you had not moved on from him. You could imagine the feeling of being reunited with the man you had spent countless weeks, months, years pining over.
But you could also imagine the feeling of crushing the heart that belonged to the man you loved now. You could imagine the perplexed look he’d don when deep in thought, desperately trying to push past his own feelings if it meant you were happy. You could imagine him going silent anytime he saw you and Danny together, the pain-ridden expression evident despite his attempts to hide it.
You could imagine it, but you certainly didn’t want it.
You sighed, still not able to make eye contact with the man in front of you. “I want you to move on someday. I need you to.”
Danny shook his head, immediately not accepting your plea. “No one is you, Bip.”
“Someday, Danny,” you insisted, tears threatening to slip once more. As sweet as he was, his response did little to appease you. The thought of him shying away from all affection from others, just for the chance to love you again, made you feel much more guilty. “It’s gonna be hard, I know. But you deserve to love again. Someone out there deserves the love that you showed me before all of this. It’s not fair to anyone if you torture yourself with being alone.”
A beat of silence.
Then another.
Then finally, a nod.
You hoped flashing a smile would help rid the tension in the air, but once you were finally able to look up at him, your expression faltered. His face was slightly contorted into a mix of confusion, pain, and acceptance. He wanted to understand, but he couldn’t face the idea of loving anyone other than you. It would take time.
“Thank you, Danny. For everything.”
You saw his head barely bob in response, his nodding almost unnoticeable because his thoughts distracting him. “I’m sorry I kissed you,” he whispered.
It was genuine, that much was obvious, but the apology made you laugh out loud. “Don’t be sorry. I’d be willing to argue and say it was the best one I’d ever gotten from you.”
The joke made him laugh as well, and you saw the nerves release from his body. “That’s a strong statement.”
“Arguably,” you quipped back.
-
You didn’t stay much longer after that. After catching up about little things, promising to hang out again soon, and hugging your goodbyes, you made your departure. Although you longed to come back to spend the day with Josh, you were slightly relieved that he wouldn’t be waiting for your return. It wasn’t often that you wished for the solace of a quiet home, but now, after rekindling the feelings and emotions that had been repressed after all this time, you knew you’d enjoy lying in bed. Alone.
You had just gotten settled under your comforter, cozy pajamas on (even if it was the middle of the day), before you sent Josh a quick text announcing your homecoming. You anticipated he’d respond later when he wasn’t as busy, but instead, your phone immediately began buzzing in your hands. You smiled as his cheery face lit up your screen before accepting the call.
“Hey, baby wh-”
“Hey, I can’t stay on here long but… you know I love you, right?”
His interruption caught you off-guard, and you picked up on the sense of urgency in his tone. The frantic nature was successful at inducing anxiety you were not prepared for. “Of course I know that.”
“And I’d do anything to keep you in my life?”
Now, you were worried. “Josh… what’s going on?”
“Nothing, nothing. I just… we’re okay, right?”
You smiled to yourself before answering. In some twisted way, his need for reassurance made you feel that much more loved. He treasured you as if you were his career, all of the wealth and precious valuables combined. He couldn’t lose you. “We’re perfect, Joshua. Are you okay?”
“Yeah!” He answered quickly. You noticed the volume of his voice fluctuating a bit, some of his words sounding more muffled than the others as he continued. “Yeah, no I’m fine. Danny just…”
He paused, and you picked up on movement on the other end of the call. He sighed to himself, this time sounding a little more sure of himself than before. “I got a text from him just a minute ago, and it scared me a little I guess. But if we’re okay, then I’m okay.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, mind racing as to what he might’ve said to Josh that would worry him this much. Things had gone smoothly. Nothing really happened. You had reconciled with your best friend, received the apology you had been hoping for all this time, what could possibly-
The kiss.
Of course, it was something you’d talk to Josh about. You felt like he should know about it, even if there was nothing behind it. It was a seal. It served as the end to an era that you had loved in the past. You needed to tell him, though. You feared how he’d react otherwise. If Danny had already disclosed what happened, you were in for a completely different conversation.
You hesitated before you asked, your voice coming out weak and feeble. “What did the text say?”
There was noise in the background, and he paused to listen, a quiet response following. You imagined he was being rushed to get off the phone, and once you heard his voice again, you knew you had been correct. “Look, I gotta go, but I’ll send it to you and text you as soon as I can, alright? I love you so so much.”
You could almost hear the smile on his face once he heard you return the phrase. The sweet sound of a pleased hum, and the image of his rosy cheeks made you smile to yourself as the call ended. But the anxiety of what Danny could’ve possibly said to make him this worried… it was consuming you.
It wasn’t long before you felt your phone buzz again, showing that Josh had sent an image. And when you opened it, you scanned the contact name of who had sent the message in the screenshot, the name reading “Daniel.” And as you looked at the message in question, the one that had scared Josh so quickly, your eyes immediately began to water. Not out of sadness or anger, but of relief and reassurance.
The words weren't meant for you, which made them that much more meaningful. He didn't say it because he felt he had to, or because he felt as if Josh would turn around and tell you. He said it because he meant it.
Please tell her that you love her. She’s worth keeping around.
series taglist: @joshkiszkas @teenagesublimefan @streamsofstardust @fireandsaltydogs @gretavanflipflop @kdarling1 @greta-van-chaos @stardustingold @the-chaotic-cow @tripthelight-fanfic @gretavancreep @gretavanfleas @myownparadise96 @loofypoofy @hippievanfleet @doodle417 @gmolszewski @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @gretavanflowerpower @hearts-hunger @s0livagant @ageofeddie @jakeyboiiiiiii @jakeydoesit @fan-girl-97 @welightthefire @maedesculpaeusoubi @josiee-gvf @brokenbellz @sammysvanfeet @haleylovesgvf @streamingcolors-gvf @groggyvanfleet @prophetofthedune @aconfusedhippie @star-lightsundrop @sammyslappers @agirlwithmanytastes @teddiie @gretavansteph @sammiejane22 @safarithong @tearsofbri @ashabeannn @gvfvanfleet @Kerryxoliver @daniellefersblog @gretavanbitches @jordierama @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature @GardensGateDaisy @jmksbuttsupremacy
#gvf#greta van fleet#gretavanfleet#josh gvf#josh kiszka#jake gvf#jake kiszka#danny gvf#danny wagner#sam kiszka#sammy kiszka#sam gvf#sammy gvf#gvf fic#greta van fic#greta van fleet fic#josh kiszka fic#fanfiction#gvf fanfiction#gvf angst#gvf fluff#josh kiszka fluff#josh x bip#danny x bip#josh kiszka angst#danny wagner angst#danny wagner fluff#greta van fics#gvf fics#josh kiszka gvf
63 notes
·
View notes
Note
I was nineteen, freshly heartbroken, and not ready to ever trust a guy again. He was eighteen, and dating a really sweet girl. He and I were working at camp together, and each night we'd sneak out with my best friend and her guy friend and watch the stars, with the warm blacktop of the basketball court below us and the heavens above, talking about everything and nothing.
He was the first guy I became friends with after my world fell apart.
(My bestie and her guy friend ended up together eventually. They're still together to this day.)
I was almost twenty, at college in Wisconsin. He was nineteen, at college in Pennsylvania. I was the first person outside of his family to find out about his breakup. The breakup had been mutual. He felt so much more free. Everything felt different after that call.
I was the first girl he called after the breakup.
(I later heard this story from every party's side. There's a lot of drama. None of it matters.)
I was twenty, and my bestie and her guy friend had just become my bestie and her boyfriend. He was nineteen, and I needed someone to go to the fair with us so I wouldn't be a third wheel. He and another guy tagged along. They helped me win a toy hamster I still keep on my bed. We all got henna tattoos. On the long ride home, we joked about using each other as a pillow. By the end of the ride, my head was on his shoulder, and his head was on mine.
It took us forty-five minutes to overcome our stubbornness and fall asleep on each other's shoulder.
(That night the guys stayed at my house on the living room floor. I said goodnight and that I'd see him in the morning. I overslept. I never got the chance to say goodbye.)
I was twenty-two, trying to figure out my next steps in life, when all my plans fell through. He was twenty-one, trying to figure out where to go after college. It'd been a while since we talked, but he messaged me on discord about onions and hopeless romantics. Silly, isn't it, the way these things start? Somehow we didn't lose touch that time.
We were both hopeless romantics.
(At first I thought he was crazy. Now I wonder who he was crazy about.)
I had all but forgotten about the poetry discord server. He hadn't. Soon we were sending poems, from laments on singlesness to ballads of hope. We would always read them. We would always give feedback. I wondered if he knew how many of them were about him. I wondered if any of his were about me.
I just want to be loved the way that he loves.
(Does he know that my words are an attempt to tie his soul to mine?)
I was twenty-two last sunday when I heard a knock at the door. His best friend has a habit of dropping by unannounced. This time he tagged along. He's twenty-two now as well, though not by much. I hadn't seen him since the state fair. I throw my arms around them both in a hug. Do they notice which one I touched first?
He showed up on my doorstep unannounced.
(Did you know the only reason there's starlings in America is because a thespian society wanted every bird mentioned in Shakespeare's works to live in America? I didn't, until he showed up on my doorstep and mentioned it.)
.
This summer, I'll be twenty-three. This summer, he'll be twenty-two. Somehow, after a three year hiatus, he'll be at the same camp I've always been at. And I'll be there too. Somehow, we both ended up as the head counselors. Somehow, we'll be spending a lot of time together this summer.
Somehow, maybe he'll figure out that I've always been in love with him.
(And maybe this summer we'll still watch the stars)
(And maybe this summer we won't have to say goodbye)
(And maybe this summer he'll find out what all of my poems are all about.)
speechless.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
" so how was your christmas, greta? "
uncle finn had been so quiet, she'd almost thought he'd fallen asleep. or even -- god, wouldn't that've been creepy.
" it was fine. " she's staring at a loose thread on her wool socks as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. she leans forward a little to pick at it.
she hears more than sees finn huffing amusedly. " just not the same is it? a lot more fun when you're little. "
she thinks then of margaret in are you there god? it's me, margaret. that was her favorite book when she was a kid. not only did it really understand her, awkward and in-between as all children are when they're eleven, twelve, thirteen, talking frankly about how frightening and thrilling puberty is, but margaret was like her, except her mom was christian and her dad was jewish, not the other way around.
she'd always use that when trying to explain to her peers how her family worked, what they celebrated. christmas had always excited her more than the jewish holidays, but she never told her parents that.
but she had told uncle finn.
pathetically: " yeah. "
a series of worrying coughs causes her eyes to snap to finn. he looks so different. he's wearing a toboggon (is he cold? is his hair thinning and falling out?), and he's got a tie around his waist because his pants don't stay up the way they should, he's lost so much weight.
she can't stand being here. sick people have always creeped her out. it doesn't help that mom gets so worked up and obsessively cleans the apartment, and june gets all mopey (more than usual), and nothing feels right. like an itchy, too-small sweater.
besides, this isn't a normal sickness. it's -- it's fucking aids. uncle finn has aids, and he is going to die. and she is in his apartment, on his furniture, it might infect her, and --
" you ready to get back to school? "
understatement. she misses her friends, misses theatre and chorus and all her clubs and extracurriculars. spending time with her family is bumming her out. " yeah. "
finn smiles, weak yet sly. " girl of few words today, hm? "
she sighs. good god. " yu-p. " the p pops, plosive. she wishes he'd stop talking. she can't stand the way his voice sounds now, thin and exhausted.
after a spell, finn clears his throat. " do you know what the spring musical is going to be yet? "
greta brightens at that. talking about theatre with finn had been one of her favorite things as a little girl. try as she might to seem that she had discarded such silly pastimes and fantasies, it was a hell of a lot better than listening to her uncle's wheezing breath in the silence. " not yet. we'll know the first day we go back. "
" how exciting. " a beat. " i'm sure you'll be a lead, being that you're a senior. i can't wait to come see it. "
the tears are practically instantaneous. she abruptly stands up and acts like she's going to look out the window. she peels one of the gauzy curtains back, looking out at the upper west side from her uncle's apartment's living room for the last time.
" ready to go, greta? " her mother says, walking back in from finn's bedroom with june.
she sniffles, willing the unfallen tears back, pushing them deep down. " finally. i was an hour ago. "
finn stands from his chair. mom puts a hand on his shoulder as they say goodbye. greta has a feeling it is to steady herself more than it is him. june gets a c'mere, crocodile and a tight hug.
she's halfway out the door on purpose. still, finn manages to look at her, really look at her, straight in her eyes and into her soul, it feels like. he manages a smile. " you have a happy new year, okay, darling? "
(the next time mom and june go visit, the last time anybody from the elbus household sees finn alive, she doesn't go with them. she says she has to study her sheet music, go over lines.)
she nods. it's all she can do. she flies down the stairs, all twelve flights, not bothering with the ancient elevator.
#verse two.#drabble.#lots of feelings about greta because she too is a kid grieving her uncle :(#even though she copes with it in a different way than june
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I am Sitting under the darkening summer sky drinking irish breakfast tea smoking winston menthol 100s, until we move into our apartment i will probably continue smoking constantly because it makes me feel like i have a forcefield around me, like a foothold in the constantly shifting anonymity of the house i’m living in right now. I think this tumblr page is serving a similar purpose. It is july 7, 8:55pm, i can hear some fireworks echoing far off. I got off of work at 9am, woke at 7pm or so. Bowl of oatmeal and instant espresso. I haven't been able to listen to much other than Advance Base for the past week, owen's lyrics instill in me the greatest gratitude for the incomprehensible size of life, the multitudes of lives happening all simultaneously and the even greater multitudes of shapes those same lives will take on in the future. The shapes my own life will take on, the shape it is now. All of these stories of melancholic loss and change, families and friends, relationships that don't have any easy label. These albums give me so much gratitude for my life and so much sweet, quiet excitement for the future, the places i will live, the people i will meet, the loves that will come and go (or maybe arrive and stay forever). I'm three weeks into my new job, it is becoming monotonous, this isn't a bad thing right now. I think i will value this time greatly in the future, and that makes me value it much more right now. Most worknights i dream of the future and of the past. I think about my old girlfriend, what she is to me now, try to get a three-dimensional view of her place in me. I think of my friends who i love and will probably love more in the future once i am more settled. I think of travel, of going to chicago alone later this year. Maybe i'll fly out for an advance base show if it lines up, i've been wanting to see him since i was 17. After the show, or on the other nights i'm there, i'll go to a bar that i'll find on google maps, one in the university area, i remember walking around there when i was 15 or so, i'll bring a book, i could see something by barbara comyns or muriel spark hitting nicely there, or maybe something more serious. Maybe then i'll read iris murdoch. It is silly to say but i dream of meeting someone there, a new chicago person, somehow we'll hit it off and talk for a long time and be moved by each other. Maybe they're there with friends and we'll all be drunk and laughing and i will lose the handle on reality in the way that only sudden and intuitive social connections can feel. Isn't everyone in a city that is not their own always quietly dreaming of things like that? The last time i was in chicago was with my old girlfriend. It was her birthday, her phone broke and it ended up being sort of messed up but if i remember correctly we had a very nice time all the same. Chicago is my land of dreams, going there to visit family when i was young, going there when i was falling in love with my old girlfriend in the summer of 2017. I was still roaringly medicated then so i can't remember all of it, but there are splashes of walking by the university, and seeing family on some strange farm in michigan. I remember the gray skies and greenery. I remember feeling life expand. There are some other things. i remember thinking of her. Off chicago. At work i dream of the places i will live in the future, of the apartment or house i'll be moving into in a few months (it may come sooner than expected). I dream of setting it up, making it feel serene and exactly perfect for me right now. I will probably be making more money by then, i have these images in my head of different perfume bottles, from tea rose to varying comme des garcons, surrounding the base of an antique lamp (i keep seeing beautiful, inexpensive lamps at antique stores) on a small round dark wooden table. I see a bedframe low to the ground with a mattress in white bedclothes. The way it will all smell, the mess of incense and perfume and whatever candles i'm into by then.
I dream of the cities and towns i will live in. Will i return to new york? The question is always there, but i have very few ideas of what it would look like. The thought can make me feel powerless, the way new york did during my month there this year. But i know to trust the expansiveness and unpredictability of experience. Perhaps if i begin bartending, then such places will open themselves to me, both in expense and in feeling. I will be older. I could go on forever. There is always so much to dream of. I do not know why i have been writing so much on this site lately. But when i begin to feel lost and deflated, it feels very good to come here and write it all out. The screen door just slammed, someone is home. I will go have another cigarette and maybe more tea.
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Playing for Keeps (book 2): False Start by Riley Hart & Neve Wilder
If only my feelings were as fake as this "relationship" with my former teammate.
CULLEN: I’ve been the NFL’s ���problem child” since my rookie year. If there’s trouble, I’ll find it.
But my biggest weakness has always been Houston McRae. We were secretly together in college before it blew up in our faces.
So, when I see him again years later, you’d think I’d know better than to end up in an airport bathroom stall tearing his clothes off.
To make matters worse, because of mistakes I’ve made, I find out afterward I’m being traded… to Denver.
Where Houston lives. Because of course.
I’m not taking responsibility for the two of us ending up in a fake relationship. That’s all on him, but I can’t pretend I won’t enjoy it. As long as I don’t let myself fall for him again, I’ll be fine, right?
HOUSTON: I lived, breathed, and slept football until an injury sidelined me for life. Now I’m solely focused on finding my place again… until Cullen Atwood walks back into my life and tempts me into an airport bathroom stall, where every ounce of passion for him I thought I’d buried returns with a vengeance.
Now he’s playing for the Rush…
And staying in my apartment.
And did I mention he’s also my fake boyfriend who makes it clear he still wants me every chance he gets?
I’ve got my future to think about, though, and we’re one wrong move from becoming a tabloid headline. I can’t afford to think of Cullen as anything more than a casual hook-up.
So why do I keep wishing this relationship was real?
False Start is a low angst, high-heat sports romance in the Playing for Keeps series.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/124926416-false-start
********
April 14, 2023
My Review: 5/5 Stars
When Cullen and Houston first got together, they were young and in college working toward their dreams to play in the NFL. But at that time, coming out and playing professionally wasn't exactly easy or the thing to do. Instead of trying to make a go for it, they break one another hearts. Years have passed, and neither have truly gotten over the other. Not that either would admit it. And Cullen is becoming the problem child of the NFL. And his latest stunt changes everything. After running into Houston for the first time in a long time, it leads to a hook up and so many thoughts later. Head not in the game, Cullen makes a bad decision that leads to him being outed. Then traded. But perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, because he ends up in Denver. Right where Houston is. Houston is no longer playing in the NFL after an injury but he has stuck around near his team, his family, and his baby brother who is playing on his old team. When Cullen appears back in his life, he tries everything to stay away. But when the two of them are caught in a compromising position, and Cullen is getting hit with the blame, Houston blurts out they are in a relationship. Now they'll have to navigate a "fake" relationship that feels more and more real every day. This was definitely a fun fake relationship trope story! Cullen and Houston have great chemistry and banter. They were great together and you just want to shake them for being so silly and not realizing that the other was still in love with them and that they were meant to be and figure out a way to make it work. Even when their careers were leading in different directions. This has been a fun series so far and I'm hoping for more!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
i think its a bit silly (awful. its awful) that as i stsrt focusing on planning to connect with family (my salvadoran family as well as my dads family on the other side of the country) the family i actually have access to falls apart. there used to be seven people in my house and now there are four. none of those three are better off they are mostly worse and im terrified that none of these three children are going to be able to avoid living horrible lives. i don't think theres a future where my brother lives past 20 something and also doesnt go to jail. i genuinely cant see anything that stops either of those things from happening and its horrible. my aunt is testifying against my mother in court and my grandmother learned people were going to take my cousins away from my mother and she ran without a word and wont stop calling my mother to whine about how hard she has it. My mom isnt answering her calls. my moms bfs family has been shittalking behind our backs and something. really fucking shitty they did has come to light (will not elaborate) im just. exhausted. i want to connect with family and with my cousins living with us that was happening and fuck. fuck. just. they were loved. so so much here and they can never come back and it doesnt matter whats fair or right or just and fuck. my dog is scared of fireworks and she stayed in the room my cousins were in because she loved spending time with them. my sisters favorite word is the name of one of my cousins and they dont get it. they dont get that theyre never coming back. fuck. it feels like theres no light at the end of the tunnel. i cant even imagine recovery from what happened this weekend and i wasnt around for any of it until today. normally i can imagine myself a month after something bad happens and know itll get better but i do think it only gets worse from here. obviously it will get better for me personally im going to college and im excited but i genuinely cant think of anything in the world that would break my mother more thwn whats happened. i literally think my brother dying would've been easier to handle than this. and i doooont want to specify too much bc personal details and like. one of the worst things thats ever happening to my family rn and no one knows what to do other than what weve done already which is a short term solution to a very long term problem. i cant do anything and i cant even be reassured someone else is doing something i cant because no one knows what to do and my mom hasnt even told everyone yet. we had aquarium tickets. wild waves tickets. they were signed up for summer camps. we were doing everything and now theyre with strangers and are probably going to slowly enter a downward spiral of life repeating the cycle of my shitty fucking family and any attempts on our end to rescue them from that were fruitless. fuck. at least we vaccinated them. thats literally all i can say. anyways im going to bed ive been crying all day and i have work tomorrow
#sorryyyy for the long vent posts i literally havent done anything but work and cry today (sometimes both!)#.ares#vent#ask to tag
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
