#anyway .. darla angst you will always be famous

[lesbiandardevil]

ghost of you

[kellyscowboy]

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱ DON'T BE SORRY FOR LEAVING AND GROWING OLD || ch. 2

ᯇ summary ! ✦ Jack Kelly finally gets out of New York and makes something of himself. Though, he's never been good at goodbyes and David won't answer his letters. || read full thing on ao3 now WRITTEN FOR THE NEWSIES FIC EXCHANGE ᯇ warnings ! ✦ cussing & angst 777 WORDS © 2023 , 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

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Jack had finally made a life for himself. He no longer wondered where his next meal would come from or if he might spend the next week in the refuge instead of the lodging. It wasn’t like he was famous, but he was known enough.

Santa Fe wasn’t as small as he had hoped, but still smaller than New York. In his mind, he had pictured a town where everyone knew him, and neighbors would bring him eggs and invite him over for Thanksgiving.

It had taken a while, but everyone did know him. However, it wasn’t due to the shortage of population, but due to his impeccable art that was sold at coffee shops and diner’s all-around town. He had aneighbor that brought him eggs, but she only did so in hopes that the boy would fall in love with her and draw her.

Which he did… draw her. He never could fall in love with her. She was missing something, something he had yet to find anywhere but New York. But he married her anyway, because he didn’t know what else to do and he was horrified of being alone.

That’s when his career kicked off. Darla, his wife, came from a well-off family who had many connections in the art business. It was sheer luck that her father’s best friend happened to be a curator, who had chosen the art that was displayed in many popular museums. 

When he got paid for the first time, the bubble of guilt that had popped long ago began to fester again. He knew what he had sacrificed to get to that point, the friendships he had lost and the family he had left behind. That’s when he wrote his first letter.

Dear David,

It’s been a while since I left, and I guess I’m kinda hoping you’ve gotten over the whole leaving ya behind thing. Which I guess ain’t fair of me to ask.

I’m glad you were mad at me. You let me get away with too much, Dave. I shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did, I should have said goodbye, and I should’ve brought you’se with me. So, I’m sorry.

You probably don’t care, but I’m doing pretty good out here. People really like my art. I just got my first check, it’s weird to see dollars and not cents. Sorry, I feel like I’m bragging. I’m not trying to. It’s just…

Well, I dunno really. You always told me I could be something more and I guess this is me thanking you, because you’re right. I wouldn’t be here without you. And I don’t want you to blame yourself for me leaving, cuz I would’a done it anyway.

I’ve been thinking about coming out and visiting. But I’m sure no-one wants to see me ever again.

I want you to know that I felt guilty, I still feel guilty. I don’t know why I didn’t want to say goodbye, but. Anyway. I’m sorry for everything, Dave.

Sincerely & forever yours,

Cowboy.

It wasn’t too long after that that his art began to change. Colorful landscapes of Santa Fe that took deep breaths of fresh air turned into dark Manhattan sky lines with smog that leaked out of the edges. Portraits of Darla began to showcase curly hair, freckles, and light blue eyes. Images of Darla’s younger cousins swinging over the lake turned into young, raggedy-clothed boys hugging each other tightly during a storm.

“Jack…” His wife started. She approached him carefully, softly. “Honey, I think you might be missing New York.”

Jack hummed, barely acknowledged the statement. “Why do you say that, dear?”

“Your last five paintings were supposed to be of me,” she said. “Not that they had to be. But you said they were.” She looked in a mirror that hung above their dresser. “I don’t know if you haven’t taken a good look at me recently. But I have long, straight black hair and brown eyes. My skin is pale, and I don’t even have freckles during the summer.” She paused too long for Jack’s comfort, then turned and waited until he looked up at her. “And I’m not a boy, Jack.”

Immediately, tears began to well in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Darla smiled and wiped the stray tears off his cheek. She kissed his nose and pressed their foreheads together. “I’ve known for a long time, Jack. I just want you to be happy.”

“I really do love you.” Jack said quietly.

“I know you do.” She intertwined their hands and ran her free hand through his hair. “But you’re in love with him.”

[desiraypark]

Love in Writing [Prologue]

Series Summary: Friends since childhood and sweethearts since adolescence, Finn and Darla are now of age to court and eventually marry. But when Finn is away in the army, his “brother” and frenemy, Ben, snatches their chance at matrimony away.  Main Characters: Darling “Darla” Teven (Daughter of Dekari and Amala Teven) (Blk/F) Finn Okani (Son of the late Jace and Callila Okani) Ben Skywalker Solo (His Grace, the Young Prince) Setting: - Country of Alderaan - Not space - In a world comparable to the Western hemisphere of the Earth (but not Earth lol) - Starts in a time comparable to the early 1910s Disclaimer: Though set in a “historical” period, this series won’t be completely historically accurate. The series is more so “inspired” by the Western culture of the early 20th century, but much of the content is the result of my re-imagining and re-envisioning the era(s).  Categories: Angst - Drama - Fluff - Historical - Romance - Scandal - Smut  Content Warnings: Arranged Marriage - Backstabbing - Conniving - Deceit - Degradation - Infidelity

Though the original character will be forced into a marriage, I intend to avoid putting any non-con into this series.

(Prologue after break) 

The Debut Ceremony

My Dearest Finn,

My Love, I wish the contents of this letter were pleasant. The most horrific thing has happened. Ben has asked my parents’ permission to court me and they said “yes”! I am mortified. I miss you my Love and wish you were here to fight this with me. My parents said that they think you are a splendid young man and they adore you. But of course, a union within the royal family would be more beneficial to the Teven family. I can’t understand why Ben would do this. Surely, he knows that we’ve been in love since we were in secondary school. I know that you’ve shared your affections for me with him. Yes, I remember you telling me that he may harbor some resentment toward you, but I did not believe it was this strong. Princess Leia asked me if I was sure I wanted to court Ben. I’m sure that she, too, is aware of our affection for each other. But my parents burned into me with a mighty glare, striking the fear of the Maker into me. I said “yes”. But as you know, Princess Leia isn’t the final decision-maker. King Luke also sees benefit in a Skywalker-Solo-Teven union. My sweet Finn. I am sorry that I have to share this news with you in a letter. Please say a prayer for me, as I will continue to pray for you. But now, I fear that I pray for an end to this undesirable union in a not-so-pleasant way. I love you, Finn. And only you. Always.

Sincerely, Your Darling ____________________ THREE EVENINGS BEFORE

“Ladies and gentlemen, the highlight of our evening begins…”

“Ready to make ourselves available for sanctified deflowering, ladies?” Rey asked. Jenaveve pinched her daughter’s bare shoulder.

“Twelve gorgeous young ladies are ready to make their debut as women among King Luke Skywalker, his Royal Family, esteemed guests, and twelve Alderaan’s finest young men. Here they are…”

A violin played.

“First out, Estela Becall, daughter of Trevin Becall, escorted by her mother, Lumina Becall…”

The announcer--Prime Minister Tico, called the names of the remaining eleven young ladies, including his granddaughter, Rose. She was Rose Tico, daughter of Issak, escorted by her mother, Belle. Isaak Tico was a Navy general who wanted little to do with politics and the frills of the aristocracy. He was intent on letting his daughters, Rose and Paige, live relatively normal lives--but he wasn’t always able to escape the golden claws of his esteemed father. Rose took it all in stride. She was a perfect combination of her male descendants: fiercely independent like her father and boldly persuasive like her grandfather. And she was a humanitarian like her mother--dedicated to remaining on the right side of history. Now, here she was following Alderaan aristocrat tradition--her hair pinned up and body adorned in minimal jewels and a gown of Skywalker blue. 

Jannah Itanni--fourth in the debut line. She was the granddaughter of York Itanni I - the world-famous inventor and engineer, and daughter of his son, York Itanni, II. Jannah was very much like her father--an explorer at heart. Curious. Always ready for a new adventure. She didn’t hate the debut ceremony--in fact, she hoped to catch the eye of a young pilot who could teach her to fly--but she hated the rules and the consequences of unfollowed rules. So many unnecessary things, if you asked her. Rose and Jannah went to school with Rey Jakkan and Darling Teven. Rey was the youngest daughter of Markus Jakkan and Jenaveev Olvair-Jakkan (daughter of oil tycoon, Cyrus Olvair). She and Jannah were best friends. Whenever one was in trouble, the other one usually was, too. They often snuck out of their homes to meet each other. How they were able to do it so often without being caught, no one ever knew. Like Jannah, she hated all the rules and protocol of the debut ceremony--but unlike Jannah, who kept her complaints to low mumbles, Rey fought and protested the entire way. Ninth in the line (and alphabetically in front of Rose) was Darling Teven. Yes, Darling is her real name. But everyone (except her mother) called her “Darla”. Darla was the daughter of Dekari and Amala Teven--and granddaughter of Jahani Teven. Her grandfather was the founder and CEO of Eastland Preserves, one of the biggest dried foods manufacturers in Alderaan. Eastland Preserves also had storefronts in five of Alderaan’s major cities. 

Darla was just as mischievous as Rey and Jannah, but she did an excellent job of hiding her capers and quieting her quips. Always relaxed and easygoing, she knew when to play with the fire and knew when to step away. Naturally, Rose Tico was her best friend.

Twelve single young men stood in line to greet the young women with bows, kisses to hand, and hellos. If they didn’t know their names, they asked - but there were probably only two young ladies who were strangers to the Skywalker castle. For many of these young men and women had roamed the marble halls and plush grounds as children--passing the hours with boundless fun as their parents talked business, politics, or simple social affairs with King Anakin and Queen Padme, and for five years now, King Luke. Additionally, many of them attended the same prestigious academy. The young men traditionally lined up by titles and importance - royals first, the children of politicians second, and esteemed citizens (like businessmen’s sons) after. One by one, they chose their first dance. First in line was Prince Ben Skywalker-Solo - son of Princess Leia and Prince Han Solo, nephew of King Luke. This was his third time attending the annual debut ceremony. For it was no secret that the carefree young man wasn’t interested in a wife, but his parents forced him to participate. To at least look like he was trying to be an honorable man.

“Darling,” Ben said when he reached the Teven family’s only daughter. He bowed and kissed her hand, and she raised an eyebrow at him. The chandelier seemed to illuminate her and only her. She was always lovely, but the night’s air and the room’s airs made her radiant. “Benjamin,” she responded. He noticed Rose biting down a chuckle. “Ben is my full name, Darla.” “I know.” He smirked and walked to Rose. When greetings were done, Ben chose Rey to dance with first. He knew that she hated the entire affair and only wanted to antagonize her for it. Then, there was Darla--his final dance partner. Unofficial sweetheart to his unofficial brother.

“Darling Teven,” Ben said, as he took her hand. The second dreadfully long song of the evening began, and the two bowed and curtsied, and pranced into their waltz. “Why do you keep calling me that?” Darla asked. “Is your name not Darling?” “You have never called me Darling, Ben.” “Ben?” he asked, looking into her eyes. “Your Grace, you mean.” “You would love for me to call you that, wouldn’t you?” “I would. Just like I enjoy calling you Darling.” “All of a sudden...” Darla mumbled. Ben grunted and looked over Darling’s head. It required little effort--for he towered over everyone on the dance floor. “How is Finn? Do you still write him?” he asked. He met her eyes again. Darla was slightly annoyed by the question. She didn’t quite know why. There seemed to be a tinge of intrusiveness to it. He knew good and well that nothing could stop them from writing each other. “Of course I do. He is well. Ready for his advanced training soon,” she answered with a proud smile. “You don’t write him?” Ben shrugged. “He writes to his uncle. His uncle passes the messages on.” Darla nodded and they danced in brief silence. “So, how does it feel to be a woman?” he asked. She shrugged. “I feel no different.” “Oh. So I must give Finn some lessons.” Darla’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What are you talking about?” “Oh, you know. Sweet little harlot,” he said. Darla blinked in shock. “What did you call me?!” she growled. “Shh. Not in front of the guests, Darling,” he said with a grin. “Your secret is safe with me.” Darla huffed and suddenly began to sweat.

“Finn didn’t tell me, by the way,” Ben continued. “I knew when he left for the base. The way you two looked at each other at the station. The way he walked like he’d drank ten coca drinks. Where did you two go? His uncle’s barn?” "That’s none of your fucking business,” she said between clenched teeth.  Ben shook his head. “Language, little one. Language...” “Oh, shove it up your ass, Ben,” she whispered. He just laughed. “But you’re right. It’s none of my business,” he said. “It’s just such a shame that the Darling of Alderaan didn’t get her beautiful cherry popped by a man with more experience.” “You’re disgusting,” Darla hissed. “And I wouldn’t want my cherry popped by a worn out and used utensil, anyway.” Ben threw his head back to laugh this time. He looked back down at her. “Used? Yes. Worn out? Not even close. Darling.” Darla rolled her eyes. “When will this song end?” Ben glanced over the dance floor and ignored the pained and impatient expressions on his peers’ faces. “We can change partners at this point.” “Thank the Maker.” “I have to initiate the switch. Me being the more important bachelor and all,” he said. “Well. Initiate!” Ben bit down on his bottom lip. Dimples pressed into his cheeks. He kept waltzing with Darla. “You’re a torturer,” she said. “And Finn would kill you if he saw what you were doing right now.” Ben didn’t say anything. He just stared into Darla’s eyes. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.  “Finn isn’t the only person who thinks you’re beautiful, Darla.” Chills went down Darla’s spine. She swallowed. His confession was sweet but dripped with a sinister elixir. Surely, these feelings of his were new. If they were even genuine. “That’s kind of you, Ben. But Finn is the only man whose affections I desire.” Ben smiled. Then, his eyebrows knitted together. He nodded.

“We’ll see.” ____________________ Let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged in “Love in Writing”!