#i haven't stopped thinking about this in weeks

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[tokeposts]

⁀➷ UNSAID | K. BAKUGOU

pairing. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre. collage au, aged up au, angst w/ a happy ending

warnings. cussing, longing, jealousy, aggression

1.3K | jealousy is a disease and bakugou katsuki is riddled with it.

back | masterlist | next

When you reached his place, you knocked, only for the door to swing open almost immediately, revealing a tense Bakugou standing there, looking more agitated than usual.

"Let's make this quick," you stated, stepping inside cautiously.

He didn’t answer right away, shutting the door behind you with more force than necessary. The loud bang echoed in the entryway. You watched him carefully, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched at his sides.

"You and that extra done?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was bringing it up so bluntly. "We were never really dating, but yeah, I guess we are." You shrugged. "Why?"

His red eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms taut like he was holding something back. "Never really dating?" he echoed, voice dripping with disbelief. "You were all over that guy, calling him cute, acting like he was something special."

You furrowed your brows, confused. Bakugou was so quick in acting like he didn't care. He practically abandoned you and this was the first thing he wanted to bring up? Un-fucking-believable.

"Not to be that girl, but why do you care?" you sighed, the faint ache in the back of your head fueling your words. "You ignore me for weeks, act all weird, and then suddenly you want to talk?"

Bakugou’s jaw tightened at your anger, and you saw a flicker of something dangerous cross his face. His arms dropped to his sides, fingers twitching like he wanted to do something but ultimetly decided against it. Instead, he stepped closer. His mouth pressed into a deep scowl, his presence looming over you like a storm waiting to break.

"I’m being weird?" he snapped, voice low and sharp, both warning and desperate. "You think I haven’t noticed you acting like everything’s fine when you’re hanging around that fucking loser?" His red eyes bored into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart shake in its cage.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I can hang out with whoever I want, Katsuki. Let me say again that you haven't spoken to me in two weeks—"

"It pisses me off!" he shouted, stepping even closer, his breath fanning against your face. He caged you between his body and the wall. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his scent familiar and overwhelming.

His eyes were blazing, fury barely contained, and something more swirling behind them. "Seeing you with some guy, calling him cute and shit. Hanging off his every. Fucking. Word."

Your eyes widened, and for the first time, you didn’t know what to say. The room felt like it was closing in, the air thick with tension. Bakugou’s words hung in the space between you, raw and unfiltered, like he had finally let something slip out.

"You think I don’t care?" he scoffed, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "That I haven’t been paying attention? You just don’t get it."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your throat tight as his words sank in, but you were just as angry as you were confused. If this man thought he could barge back into your life without so much as a clear explanation, he was dead wrong.

"Use your words," you said quietly, not backing down even though your voice wavered slightly. "Because all I saw was you ignoring me and then getting mad when I tried to fix it."

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read— regret, frustration, maybe even fear— but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I haven’t been ignoring you," he muttered, his voice strained now. "I’ve been trying to... I don’t know, hold back?"

"What— Hold back?" you shot, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Katsuki, if you don’t stop being so vague, I’m—"

Before you could finish, his hands shot out, seizing your waist with a force that sent a jolt through your body. In an instant, Bakugou’s lips were on yours— hard, urgent, like he’d been holding this in for far too long.

You gasped, startled by the intensity, but your body responded instinctively, your hands clutching at his shirt, desperately seeking some anchor in the storm of his affection. His kiss was rough, almost punishing. His mouth unyielding against yours, as though he was pouring all of his pent-up frustration and unspoken words into this one moment. He moved with a hunger that set your skin on fire, like if he stopped, you’d slip away.

He groaned low in his throat, tilting your head back and demanding more access, deepening the kiss with a ferocity that left you breathless. His grip tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.

Bakugou kissed you like a man starved, his desperation palpable in the way his lips moved against yours. It felt like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, the way you fit against him. There was no hesitation, no restraint— just pure, burning need.

When he finally tore his mouth away, both of you were gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to steady your pounding heart. He looked away, suddenly shy, a complete 180 from the man who had just made your knees weak seconds ago. It was a sight you thought you’d cherish forever.

His hot breath fanned over your face, shaking and uneven, but he didn’t let go. His fingers were still digging into your hips like he couldn’t bear to lose contact, like he needed to make sure you were still there.

“I care,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion, low and guttural like he was admitting something he could barely stand to say aloud. His fingers trailed along your hip, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"I care too fucking much, and it pisses me off that I can’t stop thinking about it. So yeah, I’ve been distant, and yeah, I’ve been avoiding you, but that’s because I don’t know what the hell to do with this." His voice cracked slightly, the tension in his words making your heart race even faster. He didn’t have the nerve to look up at you yet, not when you hadn’t said a single thing, and it was killing him.

"So fucking sue me for trying to figure this shit out."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing to keep up with everything he was saying. His confession was raw, vulnerable in a way you had never seen from him before. He wasn’t just angry— he was scared. Scared of what he felt, scared of losing control, scared of what you meant to him.

"Katsuki..." you started, your voice soft, but he cut you off with a gruttal sigh. He looked up, red eyes boring into your own for the first time, and they were pleading, desperate.

"Don’t say anything," he muttered. "If you’re gonna say some pity shit, don’t wanna hear it."

You stared at him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, and then, without thinking, you closed the distance between you again, your lips meeting his in another heated kiss. This time, it was slower, deeper, but still filled with that same urgency, that same need. His hands slid from your waist to your back, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the tension in his body melt away.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together. Bakugou’s grip on you loosened, but he didn’t let go entirely, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made your chest flutter.

"Next time," he muttered, his voice low and gruff, "don’t go running around with some fucking guy."

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, even though your heart was still racing. "Next time, don’t wait so long to tell me you care."

His eyes flickered with something soft for just a moment, but then he huffed, looking away with a scowl. "Shut up."

[adrienneleclerc]

Do you think you can do a Daniel Ricardo imagine

Where YN is a country singer and I don't know maybe all of the drivers gets invited to a country CMT in Texas and do you think you can make yn inspired by Lainey Wilson if you haven't listened to any of her music I highly recommend you to listen to some yeah that's it and I love the Carlos and MMA imagine it was beautiful and adorable and I loved it so yeah I hope you can do something with this one XOXO🇲🇽🫶🥰

Hi! Thank you so much for liking the Carlos x MMA imagine, you are actually my number 1 requester 🫶🏽 When you say "y/n inspired by Lainey Wilson", I studied her personality. I have watched her performances, listened to some of her music, and watched an interview. But Becky G will always be in my moodboards/headers because she is my idol. You could obviously picture Lainey Wilson if you want. Sorry it took SOOOO long

Country Love

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Country Singer! Reader

Summary: With the Austin Grand Prix being held on the same weekend as the CMT Music Awards, the drivers were invited to the award show, especially because of Daniel's affinity for country music.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, inaccuracies about the CMT Music Awards and country music in general.

A/N: I saw the video of Lainey Wilson singing "The Best of Both Worlds" on YouTube and i LOVED it!! Like girly impersonated Hannah Montana when she was younger so the fact she sung a Hannah song in front of Miley Cyrus herself is just iconic. Also, Becky G being in the moodboard literally means nothing, its still YOU.

Weeks before the Austin Grand Prix, the F1 drivers received calls about attending the CMT Music Awards. The drivers were all excited to have gotten invited to the award show, especially Daniel Ricciardo in particular since he loves country music so much. What’s even better is that VCARB team principal, Laurent Mekies, invited country singer, Y/N L/N, who just so happens to be Daniel’s favorite country singer, to their garage, but thats a surprise.

Daniel walked into the paddock talking to Yuki and Max about how insane and unreasonable the FIA are being when Daniel spotted Y/N walking side by side with her manager. He has completely checked out of the conversation until Yuki punched his arm.

"Ow, Yuki, what the fuck was that for?" Daniel asked, rubbing his arm.

"You weren't paying attention to us! What's up with that?" Yuki asked.

"Sorry, mate, bui just saw Y/N, as in THE Y/N." Daniel said, turning his head to try and spot her again but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Was she wearing a cowgirl hat or something?" Max asked, chuckling. Daniel looked back at him.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. She was wearing a baseball cap though. Do you think she's a guest of Ferrari or Mercedes? You know what, maybe she's McLaren's guest, Lando likes country music too." Daniel said. "Damn, they're so lucky they will get to meet her."

"Didn't know you were such a fanboy, Danny." Yuki said, causing both him and Max to laugh.

"She is a talented artist, you know. Can't believe she's here and i won't be able to talk to her until the award show. And thats IF i see her." Daniel said.

"Stop pouting, mate. We have two hours until the race, maybe you'll see her. I gotta head back to RedBull." Max said, patting both men on the back before walking away.

"We should head to our hospitality too." Yuki said and Daniel nodded, following him into VCARB where Y/N had her back turned, talking to Laurent and Daniel's eyes practically bulge out of his head. "Wow, its like watching a cartoon." Yuki comments, looking between Daniel and Y/N.

Laurent and Y/N stop talking and she turns around to face Daniel. Daniel straightens up to make a good impression, or at least try to. Laurent leads Y/N to his two drivers. Daniel was the first one to speak up.

"I'm Daniel Ricciardo, it is so nice to meet you." Daniel said, reaching for Y/N's hand to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you too, Daniel. I'm.." Y/N started.

"You're Y/N L/N, you won the Grammy for best country album, well deserved, by the way, Bell Bottom Country and Whirlwind has been on replay since i landed in Texas." Daniel said and that shocked Y/N.

"Nice job scaring the poor girl." Yuki commented.

"Wow, thank you so much, Daniel. I never would have thought that an F1 driver would be such a big fan of my music." Y/N said.

"I'm Yuki Tsunoda, by the way, if it matters." Yuki spoke up, looking in between Y/N and Daniel.

"Its nice to meet you Yuki. Will you be going to the CMT Awards too?" Y/N askd.

"I won't, actually. But Daniel is very excited for the award show." Yuki said, patting Daniel on the back.

"Can't wait to see you there. I'll let you two get back to whatever it is drivers do." Y/N said, leaving them. Daniel watched her leave and Yuki had to wave his hand in front of his face.

"Laurent, i think he's broken!" Yuki yelled and that snapped Daniel out of his trance.

"I am not broken. Lets go over the plans." Daniel said.

The Grand Prix finished and Daniel wasted no timw to go to his hotel room and change into something more presentable for the CMT Awards. Leaving his room, he spotted Lando already in the lobby with Max.

"Am i early or late?" Daniel asked.

"Early, but so are we. Heard that your celebrity crush was in the paddock." Lando said.

"Yes! She is so beautiful in person." Daniel commented.

"He was staring at her while we were talking. If it was a cartoon, he would be drooling with big hearts for eyes." Max said.

"Haha, lets go, I want to see if i can talk to Y/N some more on the red carpet." Daniel said.

When they arrived, the paparazzi was asking for photos and it was all good until Daniel found out he was taking photos next to Y/N so like the gentleman he was, he waited until Y/N noticed him.

"Oh my god, Daniel, you're here!" Y/N exclaimed before hugging Daniel, he hugged her back. "You guys must be Max and Lando, it was a great race, really."

"Thank you, I'm a fan of your music. My favorite song from your new album is definitely 'Call A Cowboy', you're very talented." Lando said.

"Thank you so much. We should all take a photo togther!" Y/N said

"Great idea! You should stand next to Daniel and then Lando and I will be on each side." Max suggest. Y/N nods and Daniel has his arm around Y/N's waist. While taking the poictre, Daniel leaned down to Y/N's ear to whisper.

"Would you be interested in going out with me tomorrow night?" Daniel asked. Y/N looked up at him, smiled, and then asked him to lean down so she could whisper.

"I'd love to. You feel like waiting for me so we could get Wendy's after?" Y/N asked and Daniel immediately nodded. After the photo ops, they walked into the theater. "DM me on instagram and I'll give you my phone number later." Y/N said closer to Daniel and pulled away to adress the other F1 drivers that came later. "Hope you guys enjoy my performance." Y/N left.

"Danny, are you okay?" Oscar asked

"God bless Texas." Daniel said before they walked in to take their seats.

The End

Hope y'all liked it!

[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 1

SUMMARY: You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST two more parts to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It started as something small—just a slight sluggishness that you chalked up to long hours and a busy schedule. After all, everyone had days where they felt off, right? You didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you hadn’t been drinking enough water or were pushing yourself too hard at the gym with the new workout routine you had taken up. But the fatigue lingered, heavier than usual. The exhaustion hit you mid-morning, the kind that left you wanting to crawl back into bed despite a full night’s sleep.

By day three, the headaches came. Sharp and persistent, not debilitating but enough to make focusing at work a struggle. You found yourself squinting at the screen, rubbing at your temples, wondering if your caffeine intake had anything to do with it. Coffee had always been your crutch, but suddenly it wasn’t helping. That in itself seemed odd—coffee usually gave you a little boost, but lately, it just left you feeling more nauseated than energized.

As you sat at your desk, half-listening to a Zoom meeting you were supposed to be engaged in, you absentmindedly reached for your phone. Flipping through your calendar, you skimmed the past couple of weeks, your thumb freezing as a realization crept in. You were late. Not by a lot—but enough to notice.

You glanced at the calendar again, frowning. Surely, it couldn’t be that. Your cycle was sometimes a day or two off. It wasn’t something to worry about. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling, the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered that maybe this wasn’t just an irregular month.

No. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear the thought. You were on birth control. You and Jake had been careful. This was just your mind overreacting, connecting dots that weren’t there. But then a new thought slithered its way into your consciousness. A few weeks ago, you’d been sick—laid out with that stubborn cold. You’d gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics.

Antibiotics…

Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the doctor’s warning. Something about your birth control being less effective. At the time, you’d been too focused on just wanting to feel better, not giving much thought to how the medication could affect anything else.

The nausea from your coffee earlier that morning felt more like a bad omen now.

You leaned back in your chair, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest. No. It couldn’t be that. You were just being paranoid. But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The headaches. The exhaustion. The nausea from foods that had never made you nauseous before. Your pulse quickened as you stared at the calendar, connecting the dots. Could it really be? The thought hung there, weighty and terrifying. What if you were…?

The panic bubbled up, threatening to spill over, but you pushed it down. You needed answers, not speculation. You couldn’t keep spiraling like this. There was only one way to know for sure.

Without a second thought as soon as you were clocked out at 5:01pm, you grabbed your keys and purse, practically bolting for the door. There was a CVS just a few blocks away. The sooner you took the test, the sooner you could put this fear to rest.

As you hurried toward your car, your thoughts raced alongside you, a thousand different scenarios flashing in your mind. What if it’s positive? What would Jake say? Would he leave?

The short drive back to your apartment felt like miles, the little white CVS bag clutched in your hand felt heavier than it should have been. Each minute only magnified the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the cool air of your small apartment hit you, but it did little to calm the heat of your rising anxiety. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as if delaying what you knew you had to do would somehow make the looming possibility disappear.

Your heart raced as you walked to the bathroom, the test still tucked in its box as though keeping it sealed would keep the truth hidden a little longer. You set it on the counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired. Your skin was paler than usual, dark circles faintly visible under your eyes. Maybe you were just exhausted. You had been working on a project at work that had a pretty tight deadline. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. Maybe you were imagining all of this. Making up something that wasn't there.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror, reaching for the box. The sound of the packaging tearing open seemed too loud in the quiet apartment. You took one of the two pregnancy tests out and set it on the counter. Your hands trembled slightly as you read over the instructions, even though you didn’t really need them—you knew how this worked. Open the package. Pee on the stick. Wait. But reading them gave you a few more seconds before facing the truth.

You took a deep breath and finally did what needed to be done. Afterward, you placed the test down, careful not to look at it yet, and set the timer on your phone. You couldn’t bear to watch the lines form, so you forced yourself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, pressing the heels of your palms into your knees, grounding yourself while you waited. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind raced, jumping between panicked thoughts and desperate rationalizations. There was no way. You and Jake had been careful, hadn’t you? You’d been taking birth control for years with no issues. And yet… there had been that one night, the night you felt better after being sick. You remembered how he had pulled you close, his warmth intoxicating after those few days of feeling terrible, his touch erasing the last of your discomfort. It had been one of those spontaneous moments, the kind you didn’t overthink. But now, it felt like maybe you should have.

The timer on your phone went off, snapping you out of your thoughts with a jarring sound. You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you reached for the test. With your hand trembling, you flipped it over, your breath catching in your throat.

Two pink lines stared back at you.

Your vision blurred as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. No. You blinked hard, clearing your eyes, then looked again.

Two pink lines.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach. You set the test down, unable to keep looking at it, and hurriedly reached for the second test in the box. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Hands shaking even more now, you repeated the process, this time pacing the bathroom as the second timer ticked down.

But deep down, you already knew.

The timer buzzed again, and with a knot tightening in your throat, you picked up the second test.

Two pink lines stared back at you, a confirmation you weren’t ready for.

You sat back down on the edge of the tub, the reality of it all sinking in, a cold rush of panic sweeping over you. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? 

Your thoughts went to Jake. How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be upset? Would he leave? End things with you? Your chest tightened at the idea of telling him. You’d only been together a few months, and even though things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel that this would be too much, too soon.

You pressed your hands to your face, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Images of Jake flashed through your mind—his charming smile, the way he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, the lighthearted banter that had drawn you to him. Your relationship was going strong. But was that enough? Were you enough? Would it be enough to survive something as life-changing as this?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help. You needed to think, to figure out what you were going to do next. But your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, uncertainty, and—oddly enough—a tiny flicker of something else. Something you didn’t want to admit. Hope.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought aside. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this lost, this scared, not when the rest of your life could be so drastically altered by a couple of pink lines.

But there was no denying it now. You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The next morning, the reality of what had happened still weighed heavily on you. It had settled in overnight, creeping into your mind every time you closed your eyes, so sleep was hardly an escape. You lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday playing on a loop. The two pink lines. Your pounding heart. The panic that had taken root in your chest, now a constant, gnawing ache.

But beyond the overwhelming fear of your situation was an even greater question: Jake. How were you going to tell him? Or… should you even tell him yet?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you out of your thoughts. You didn’t have to check to know who it was. Jake had sent a text earlier in the morning—a simple “Good morning” with a smiley face—and you had left it unanswered.

Now, a second message appeared, more direct this time:

Jake: You okay? Haven’t heard from you.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to talk to him without the weight of your secret making everything feel wrong. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard as your mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to respond with.

You: Yeah, sorry. Been busy.

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt settling in your chest as you hit send. You hated how distant the response felt, hated how you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. But what could you say?

The seconds stretched on before your phone buzzed again.

Jake: Busy? You trying to avoid me?? ;)

The words on the screen were playful, a light jab that might’ve made you smile any other day. But today, it only made you feel worse. He was catching on. Jake always had a knack for reading people, and now he was reading you, seeing right through your weak attempts to act normal.

You set your phone aside, deciding not to answer for now. You’d figure out what to tell him later. But for now, you just needed space. Space to think. Space to process. Space to make sense of the storm that had taken over your mind.

The day dragged on, and you kept your distance. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your anxiety spiked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to respond beyond brief, one-word replies. You were trapped in this bubble of avoidance, knowing full well that it wasn’t sustainable but unable to break free of it just yet.

Later that evening the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over The Hard Deck as you stepped inside. The familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but they felt distant, almost muffled, as you made your way to the bar. 

Jake was already there, leaning against the counter, chatting with a few of the guys. His laughter rang out, and your heart sank a little. How could you keep this secret from him when he looked so carefree?

“Hey, you made it!” Jake grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached out to pull you closer. You forced a smile in return, feeling the weight of your secret settle heavily on your chest.

You settled onto a barstool beside him, ordering a Diet Coke, the bubbly drink a stark contrast to the cold beer he and the others were enjoying. As Penny placed your drink in front of you, Jake’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Diet Coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not feeling under the weather? I thought you’d be grabbing a beer with me.”

“Just not in the mood for one tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, it’s Thursday night! You can’t tell me you don’t want to kick back with a cold one.” He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

You chuckled lightly, but it felt forced. “I just have a lot on my mind with that project deadline tomorrow I told you about.”

“Just thinking about work, huh?” he asked, his voice low, laced with concern. 

You nodded, a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you raised the glass to your lips. 

Later that night after beating Rooster and Bob in games of pool Jake made his way back over to where you were still sitting on the bar stool. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You sure you’re okay?” He said as he put his hand on your back and began gently rubbing it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a little too rehearsed, the words falling from your lips like an empty promise. “Just a lot on my mind with that deadline tomorrow.”

“Right.” He nodded, though the frown on his face told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, but instead of the warmth you usually felt, you tensed.

You could feel him studying you, as if he were searching for something just beneath the surface. His touch, usually comforting, felt heavy now. “You’re not really laughing tonight,” he pointed out, the concern in his tone deepening. “I mean, that joke from Phoenix was hilarious, and you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jake tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You sure that’s all? Because it feels like something else is going on.”

You swallowed hard, the truth lingering just beneath your tongue. He deserved to know, but the thought of revealing your pregnancy sent waves of panic coursing through you. Instead, you looked down at your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass. “Really, Jake. I’m just... thinking about everything.”

“Okay, but you know I’m here for you, right?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry etched across his features. “If you need to talk, just say the word. I can take you home. We can go back to my place. Whatever you want.”

You nodded again, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I know. I appreciate it.”

The night wore on, and the laughter and camaraderie around you seemed to grow louder while you felt more isolated in your thoughts. As Jake tried to draw you back into the fold, the distance between you only seemed to widen. Each time he reached out, you instinctively pulled away, hiding the truth that threatened to spill from your lips.

You were trapped in a delicate dance, and with each passing moment, the weight of your secret pressed heavier against your chest. You took a deep breath, knowing that soon, you’d have to face him. But for now, all you could do was keep the facade intact, holding on to the last threads of normalcy before the storm would break.

When Jake asked you to meet him at The Hard Deck the following evening, your heart sank. He was trying, reaching out to spend time with you like always, but the idea of seeing him, pretending that everything was normal, felt impossible. Your chest tightened as you typed out your reply.

You: Can’t tonight. Sorry.

You could almost imagine the confusion on his face as he read your message. Normally, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet up with him, to sit at the bar with him, sharing drinks and flirty comments. But not tonight. Not now.

You spent the evening in your apartment, pacing, thinking. The truth was suffocating you, and the longer you put off telling him, the worse it became. But fear gripped you every time you thought about saying the words out loud. What if this changed everything? What if Jake didn’t want this? What if he… walked away?

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter at the thought. You tried to shake it off, tried to reassure yourself that you were overthinking things, but the fear wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t know Jake’s thoughts on kids, on the future, on anything beyond the easy, carefree nature of your fairly new relationship. And now, this could upend everything.

When your phone buzzed again later that night, you ignored it. You couldn’t deal with it. Couldn't deal with him. Not yet.

But avoiding Jake was harder than you expected.

The next evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you heard a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you froze, staring blankly at the door. Who would be at your door right now?

Another knock. Louder this time.

Your pulse quickened as you pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way toward the door. You peered through the peephole, and your stomach dropped.

It was Jake.

You hesitated, every muscle in your body suddenly tense. He had come to see you. Maybe he was worried. Or maybe he was just tired of your evasiveness. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was here, standing on the other side of your door, and you had to face him.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. There he was, standing in the hallway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his usual easygoing smile playing on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes.

He leaned in slightly as if to kiss you. Instinctively, you took a small step back, the distance between you immediately noticeable.

Jake’s smile faltered.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Didn’t even want to meet me at the Hard Deck tonight. That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just… been busy,” you muttered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“Busy. Right. Well, your deadline at work was up at 4:59, so what's your excuse now?” Jake repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?”

Your chest tightened as he pushed, his words cutting through your thin layer of avoidance. He wasn’t letting this go. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You sure about that?” His voice was firmer now, the playful edge gone. “Because this isn’t you. You've barely texted me all week. Then you acted like you were trying to avoid me like the plague last night at the bar. You blew me off tonight, and now… what? You’re acting like you don’t even want me here?” He paused and just looked at you, shaking his head. "Do you want me here? Do you want me to leave?"

The guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you could feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface. You tried to swallow it down, to push the panic aside, but it was too much. The pressure was too much.

“Jake, I—” You stopped, biting your lip as your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “I just… I don’t know how to—”

He took a step forward, his voice softening again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It's just...you're scaring me, babe. You're making me think you're trying to hide something. Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. But don’t shut me out like this. ”

You blinked, fighting back the tears. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to tell him. But fear kept your throat tight, the words trapped inside.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle, and grounding, but even that felt too much right now.

You pulled away, stepping back toward the living room.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jake frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Can’t do what?”

You knew you couldn’t avoid the truth much longer. 

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” you blurted out, your voice breaking. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

The room went completely still. For a moment, Jake didn’t react, his expression frozen in surprise as if he hadn’t quite processed what you had just said.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I took a test a few days ago. It was positive.” The words felt heavy, hanging in the air between you, and you could barely look at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you… I didn’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, as Jake stood there, his gaze locked on you. You could see the shock in his eyes, the way his mind seemed to be working through what you had just revealed. Your stomach twisted in knots, the fear bubbling up again. You had no idea how he was going to react. No idea what this meant for the two of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, processing. His face was unreadable, and the silence between you became unbearable.

“I… I didn’t see that coming,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look at him. “Neither did I,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I’ve been freaking out, Jake. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know if I should tell you, or if you even—”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Wait… did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Were you thinking about not telling me?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was laced with disbelief, and you realized what you had implied. Your heart clenched as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted, your voice shaking as tears started to form in your eyes. “I was scared, Jake. I still am. I don’t know what this means for us, or for anything.”

Jake took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped toward you. His hand reached out, gently taking yours, his touch warm and steady. “Baby, I get that this is… huge. It’s not something either of us expected. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sent a wave of relief washing over you, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges. You had been so caught up in your panic that you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope for this—that Jake wouldn’t run, that he wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

Jake squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds, and yeah, this is scary as hell. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in days, you felt a sliver of hope break through the fear. You weren’t alone in this. Jake wasn’t going to leave.

The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally broke free and started to roll down your cheeks as you looked at him, the emotion finally overwhelming you.

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you’d want this. If you’d want me.”

Jake’s expression softened even further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as the reality of everything finally hit you. But this time, it didn’t feel as crushing. With Jake’s arms around you, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“This isn't your fault, baby. We both made this baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in his embrace, the fear still there but no longer as suffocating. With Jake by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

For the first time since seeing those two pink lines, you allowed yourself to believe that everything might just be okay.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Epilogue

As summer fades, the ghouls settle in further. New friends and relationships blossom, and a new band performs their first ritual in the local village.

Rating: M Content: possessive behavior Words: 4812

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Not bad for a fic that was meant to be 5 chapters and about 15k words… this was supposed to be a quick little fic that I wrote before moving on to write the longer soulmates AU I’ve been planning since around March! 

As I think I've mentioned, this isn't the end! This was always supposed to be a Raindrop fic, and so Swissalps's story will be continued in a sequel. I'll be dropping the first chapter shortly, and I have a special invitation for it if anyone wants that in their ask box! message me or reply if you'd be interested?

I can't let myself get too sappy here or it'll end up longer than the chapter itself. But thank you to everyone who's been so lovely about this fic in replies or reblogs (especially looking at @everybodyshusband @cosmicseafoam @jazz-bazz @0-miles-away @papaslittlesunshine @ligovskaya @midnight-moth @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan and anyone who's AO3 username I haven't correlated to a tumblr blog yet!), I wouldn't have stuck with this so long without you guys 🖤🖤

Read below, or on AO3!

The weeks passed, the summer fading further every day. With the final harvests nearly all brought in and the trees painting themselves in a hundred shades of amber and gold, autumn was finally upon the Abbey. No amount of dulling of the colours of nature could dull the passion of Rain and Dew’s relationship however, even as they found themselves slipping into a routine. For the Abbey’s fire ghouls, it was all hands on deck to help keep the grain dry, yet amidst his busy schedule Dew still found ample time to luxuriate in him and his pack’s safe and comfortable new home. Most importantly though, he thought, he had time to spend with his m– Rain.  

Dew had to stop himself for the thousandth time from thinking of Rain as his mate. To him, the rituals were practically complete. Having passed on his amulet, he had opened his heart and shared his soul. For Rain though, he knew they were only at the end of the first step of the many that comprised a water ghoul's courting ritual. They had many months left before Rain would have completed his side of the tradition; the next step being gifts that were less about being pretty, and more practical gifts for their future together. Dew had no way of knowing that Rain was already hard at work on that front; taking advice from his new pod of water ghouls on the best kinds of kelp to harvest from the lake here, and the weaving patterns that would create the softest possible blankets from it. Dew was happy to wait for Rain however; even if it took millennia, he would wait for him. 

As the weeks passed for Dew and Rain and their relationship grew both deeper and stronger, Swiss and Mountain continued to dance around each other, both backing out of making the final move at the last second. Their friendship had never been stronger, and with that came the higher pressure of what was a stake if their feelings were not reciprocated. 

Aether could see straight through their – at times – comedically oblivious behaviour. He had known Mountain for so many years now, and Swiss a great number too, that he could decipher the thoughts running through their heads just like reading a book. Seeing his pack couple off like they were doing could have made him feel lonely and jealous, he supposed. Considering his thoughts however, he couldn't find a scrap of negativity towards any of them. Really, he was just happy to see his pack happy.  

He had a fulfilling life; a pack, new friends around the Abbey. Aether had always said that he was happy alone, with no desire to settle with a mate. Admittedly, Mountain had said something similar when they first met, but Swiss seemed to have been an exception there. Over the recent weeks since Cumulus had properly introduced them, Aether had especially been enjoying getting to know Cowbell. The quiet ghoul's steady, timeless attitude felt grounding amongst the recent chaos of his life, and Aether could tell they seemed as delighted to have made a new friend as he was. 

Aether’s role in the infirmary was also going better than he could have expected. Astra had quickly seen how unnecessary any training she could offer him would be, and had set him up mentoring some of the younger quintessence ghouls. To his mild amusement, he had gained a small gaggle of quintessence ghouls who followed him around the infirmary like little ducklings, hanging on his every word and keen to lap up every scrap of knowledge he imparted. Aether found he enjoyed that side of his new role more than he had expected, and looked forward to teaching the younger ghouls each shift. 

With the Harvest Festival quickly approaching, one of the main tasks of the infirmary ghouls had been to prepare a supply of tinctures and remedies for the ghouls and siblings alike who would inevitably indulge a little too heavily in the Abbey’s famous blackberry wine. Due to his extensive knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs, Astra had delegated the task of organising this to Aether, who had grasped the extra responsibilities firmly. 

Before the festival however, came the one thing that was more exciting to the pack; Swiss, and Copia’s first musical engagement in the local tavern. Sunshine and Mountain were also heavily occupied now in rehearsals for it, the three ghouls – and one human – doing an excellent job of hiding their nerves from the rest of the pack. 

The pack was something else that had grown stronger at the Abbey, thought Aether. It hadn’t taken long for the five ghouls to begin to see the ghoulettes they lived their lives in such proximity to as more than just casual friends. Dew had clearly seen them as family long before the others had, but within the span of time they had been here the other ghouls also came to see them as an interwoven part of their lives. 

The ghoulettes, Cirrus and Cumulus in particular, had been referring to the new ghouls as pack, long before they were aware of it. The Den had become so much more crowded and noisier since they arrived, but none of the ghoulettes would change it for the world. The Abbey could feel large and lonely at times, and the constant presence of at least one member of the newly extended pack made everything feel cosier.  

Indeed, the concert – Aether still found calling it a “Ritual” to be laughable, although he would be happy to be proved wrong – was to be their first true pack adventure. The nine ghouls, plus Cowbell, Copia and several Siblings of Sin, were all planning to make the journey down the hill to support their leader’s latest passion project. Cowbell had offered to drive them in the large horse and cart usually used for their monthly grocery runs to the village, and as such the event was developing quite a party-like atmosphere. 

Even amongst the ghouls not attending, most either too busy or incapable of holding an adequate glamour, the day held excitement and novelty. There was a general buzz in the air throughout the Abbey, and it was riding this high that inspired most of the ghouls to finalise their remaining chores before the harvest festival the following day. 

One ghoul in particular who seemed to be buoyed along by the jubilant environment was a young, dark-haired fire ghoul. He was comparatively new to the Abbey, arriving some years after Dew left. Swiss was hurrying back to the Den, bringing armfuls of freshly-washed clothes from the laundry when the fire ghoul strode up to him with a self-assured, almost cocky, grin. 

“Good luck for tonight,” he purred in a low voice like treacle, reaching out a muscular arm to lay a hand on Swiss’ own bicep, “I’ll be at the festival tomorrow, if you want to get a celebratory drink together?” 

Swiss stood confused: he couldn’t remember ever speaking to this ghoul before, and certainly not in a way that would cause him to be so familiar with him. He hoisted the pile of clothes further into his arms, trying to think of a polite was to ask who he was exactly. 

“I, um…” Swiss trailed off, distracted by a low noise ringing in his ears. He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge it but to no avail: if anything, it seemed to be getting louder. A dark and earthy scent suddenly assaulted his senses, and he wondered if he was falling ill, or if he had been cursed or something. It seemed the fire ghoul could feel it too though, as Swiss saw the colour drain from his face, rendering his tanned, olive skin an ashy grey. His terrified eyes were fixed on a point above and behind Swiss, and he stood frozen like a deer caught in a ranger's torchlight. Swiss cautiously turned around, half expecting to see some kind of nether-worldly monster oozing out of the wall. 

All he saw was Mountain however, stood tall and stony-faced with a dark aura emanating from him. The added height of his antler-like horns meant he cut an imposing figure. His lip curled into a snarl as he growled again, and a new wave of that woodsy, almost possessive scent washed over Swiss. As much as it seemed to be scaring the fire ghoul, Swiss thought it smelled divine. He smiled at Mountain with a questioning head-tilt, wondering where this strange behaviour was coming from so suddenly. The Earth ghoul’s eyes were fixed on the fire ghoul however, who managed to unfreeze for long enough to stutter out a disjointed sentence. 

“I’m sorry!” He looked like he was staring straight into the face of death himself. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry!” 

With a jerk of his head, Mountain dismissed him, sending the terrified fire ghoul scuttling down the hallway as fast as he could run, his tail between his legs. Once he was out of sight, Mountain seemed to calm down. His expression softened, and the air around him seemed lighter again.  

“What was all that about?” Swiss asked, confused by the earth ghoul’s sudden black mood, and the even more sudden departure of the unknown fire ghoul.  

Mountain muttered something Swiss didn’t catch and started relieving him of the large bundle of black clothes in his arms. Swiss trailed back to the Den beside him, still utterly confused by the interaction that had just taken place. 

“Was I meant to know who that was?” He mused aloud. “He acted so familiar, yet I can’t remember him from anywhere!” 

Mountain almost dropped the clothes, as he doubled over and snorted with laughter, previous aggressive attitude long behind him now that he had the multi ghoul to himself again. Was Swiss seriously that clueless about the fire ghoul’s unsubtle actions? Ever since he’d known him, Swiss had been taking advantage of the humans’ proclivity for flirting with him, often reciprocating if he thought it would secure him more work, or tips and favours. He couldn’t think what would have changed now to make him so oblivious, unless it was simply that it was another ghoul, rather than a human? 

“He was clearly flirting with you, Snapdragon!” Mountain guffawed in disbelief. “Could you really not tell?” 

Swiss’s quizzical expression suggested that no, he had not been aware of that. Adding to his confusion was Mountain’s reaction: he seemed to be finding the fire ghoul’s actions funny now, but what had the growling and – he realised what it was now – scenting been about? The bounce in the taller ghoul’s gait could only be described as victorious, and he chose to file all the hope about why that could be away until after their performance tonight. That wasn’t a distraction he would allow himself today, not when Copia was relying on him. 

Swiss had a suspicion however – one he kept to himself – about why he hadn’t grasped what the fire ghoul was really suggesting, and it had everything to do with the earth ghoul trotting slightly ahead of him. He was self-aware enough to know his feelings for Mountain bordered on infatuation, and he figured that now he had become used to the intensity of those feelings that he had forgotten what anything smaller felt like. The thrill of attraction, or of a newly developing crush felt so insignificant now that they were dwarfed by the magnitude of his feelings for the earth ghoul. He only had eyes for Mountain, and the thought of anyone else thinking they stood a chance in the battle for his heart was laughable to him. Hastening his steps to catch up with Mountain, Swiss fell into step with him to revel in being by his side once again. 

Reaching the Den just before they did was an excitable Dewdrop. He burst through the main door, and then into the room he shared with Rain, brandishing a dull metal object. 

“Look!” He exclaimed to a slightly startled Rain lounging in their nest. “A horseshoe!”  

Rain could see that, although what he couldn’t see was why Dew was quite so excited about such a mundane object. He smiled at him with a questioning tilt of his head and waited for Dew to elaborate. 

“The humans do something with them at weddings,” Dew explained as he joined Rain on the bed, still clutching the curved iron shape, “something about them catching luck? I thought we could hang it on our door!” 

He held it out for Rain to examine, demonstrating how it could look like a vessel for capturing luck when held in a U-shape. Rain took it from him, and it really was just a regular horseshoe: slightly rusted and worn down from use. More interesting than the horseshoe though, Rain realised that this was the first time Dew had ever brought back something to keep for himself. He let Dew chatter on about needing to find a hammer and some nails, if they should think about painting their door before or after mounting the horseshoe, and what colour Rain would like if so, would he like teal? Rain nodded along, only half his mind on the conversation. The other half was preoccupied celebrating this relatively large step for Dewdrop; this was yet more proof that he was finally starting to settle properly and relax, putting down roots for himself and Rain, finally feeling a sense of permanence. 

“I got it when I went to see Cowbell just now,” Dew elaborated, “to check if they’re all ready to drive the cart down to the village tonight. They were just reshoeing the mare we brought with us from the village, so that means this shoe played a part in getting us out of there! It really is lucky!” 

Rain melted further. It was becoming increasingly apparent that deep down Dew had the potential to be an incredibly sentimental ghoul, and he couldn't wait to see how that continued. 

“It seems to be working so far then,” Rain murmured, holding it up, “I've had nothing but luck since you came back for me.” 

With that, he leaned in to steal a kiss; both the horseshoe and all talk of home décor soon being forgotten. 

The day seemed both to drag and pass all too quickly at the same time. Before they knew it, Swiss, Mountain and Sunshine were all dressed, and carefully buffing the metal masks that were a part of their outfits one final time. Copia had decided they added a nice touch to their costumes; the shining horns hinting at their ghoulish nature without actually revealing it. The whole Den was alive with excitement and nerves, the fervour growing as the light outside began to fade. 

Walking out to the front courtyard to meet Cowbell with the cart, Swiss proudly led the way with his guitar strapped to his back. This felt familiar, and more importantly it felt right; doubly so with Mountain by his side. Cowbell was leaned against the wooden trailer, as human-looking as anyone could remember ever seeing them before. They were smiling softly, although slightly apprehensively, as the pack approached. Behind the pack followed the Siblings of Sin, who had initially been keen for an evening out but now seemed to be regretting their decision. Swiss could smell the waves of alarm pouring off them as they got closer, none of them used to interacting with the ancient ghoul who lived in the stables. 

“Good evening, dear ghoul!”  

Copia greeted Cowbell as he bustled forward and hoisted himself up next to them at the front of the cart. The rest of them would be travelling in the back, even though none of them were particularly keen to be sharing the space. They had no choice however, and the Siblings dutifully lined up behind the crush of ghouls that were piling in and jostling for space on the narrow wooden benches. Rain and Dew happily squeezed themselves into a corner, and Swiss settled himself into another; Mountain willingly joining him and shuffling closer until their thighs were pressed tight against each other. There was eventually space made for everyone and with a jolt, the cart set off. The sudden motion and continued bumping along the cobbles of the courtyard threw Mountain even closer into Swiss. Even once they were onto the smoother path into the village, he remained plastered along Swiss’ side as the countryside flew by.  

It really was a beautiful evening, Swiss though as he glanced out at the trees and fields around them. The orange sunset cast its glow over everything, making the whole world look like it was on fire. Most vibrant of all however was Mountain; his auburn hair glowing in the light like it was itself aflame. With his large horns glamoured away, the russet glow was all that served to make him appear as otherworldly as he did. Swiss thought that the whole world around them could truly be on fire, and he would be happy to sit and burn if only to stare at Mountain for a second longer.  

They continued rattling down the hill towards the village, and Swiss felt a pang of longing when he spotted Dew with his head leaning on Rain’s chest; held against his front by the water ghoul's long arms. He wished he could be so casually affectionate with mountain, but he dared not. He wouldn’t allow himself to dream that until he had first concluded the hard part – making sure they really were both on the same page. He didn’t deserve such a reward without the prior work, he thought.  

All too soon they were slowing to a stop outside a wide stone building that was emitting a narrow stream of smoke from its chimney: the village tavern. The Siblings practically fell out of the cart, their instincts screaming at them to put some distance between themselves and the ghouls. 

“Go, my Children, enjoy yourselves!” Copia laughed as they threw themselves towards the tavern door. 

The ghouls were only slightly more restrained as they clambered down and spilled into the building. Cowbell made no move to follow the others inside, instead staying next to the pair of horses, stroking one's nose. Aether paused, looking back at them. 

“You aren't coming in?” he asked, worried that the ghoul didn’t realise that they were welcome in too. Cowbell shook their head. They didn’t like crowds, especially human ones, as the noise and bustle were too much for their deeply ancient mind to handle. Despite that, the biggest thing stopping them now however was their appearance: Cowbell gestured to their feet, where Aether saw that their hooves were very much still visible. 

“My glamour’s incomplete,” they shrugged, “’m out of practice. It’s been centuries since I last used it.” 

One day, Aether thought, he would ask Cowbell just how old they really were. He suspected it was millennia. 

“Go inside with the others,” Cowbell smiled a wonky smile, “I’ll be happier listening out here anyway. Besides, I have company.” They stroked the second horse. Reluctantly, Aether followed after the rest of the rabble he called pack, throwing a final look back at Cowbell. They were muttering something in the horse’s ear while continuing to pet them. It sounded to Aether like they were speaking Infernal, a language only spoken in the pit, or so he thought. The horse didn’t seem perturbed though, and she whinnied happily at the attention. 

Inside the tavern, the atmosphere was jovial already. The large room was dimly lit, wood-panelled walls and supporting columns all stained dark with years of fire and tobacco smoke. Scattered across the panelling were a patchwork of lighter sections from recent and less-recent repairs. The only lighting came from lanterns that lined the walls and hung directly from the vaulted ceiling, as well as a small number of candles dotted on tables that lent a cosy and friendly air to the place.  

Better lit however, was the makeshift stage against the wall. It was slightly raised, simply built from a few wooden planks resting on crates, but it did the job. On the other side was the bar, its countertop polished as smooth as glass from generations of patrons leaning on it. Along its length were a line of stools with faded fabric covers, and the remaining floor space was filled with a hodgepodge of tables and chairs, scattering in increasingly private settings ranging from the centre of the room to corners almost entirely shrouded in darkness. 

Leaping lightly onto the stage, Copia looked resplendent in his robes, with his face painted black and white in the mimicry of a skull. Swiss thought he cut an imposing figure, when he wasn’t turning around to look at his ghouls with nerve-tinged excitement at least. The man stretched his arms out wide, the candlelight flickering off his bedazzled chasuble and truly making him look like the head of the dark church. 

Before long, the tables began to fill up with locals, intrigued by the talk of visiting musicians from the mysterious Abbey up at the top of the hill. Rain, Dew and the other ghouls not performing settled themselves at the table nearest the stage, Dew looking particularly excited and practically bouncing in his seat beside Rain. Swiss didn’t know what had overtaken him recently, but he seemed so much lighter and carefree now. He assumed it was Rain. The bustling crowd completely filled the tavern as the four musicians took their places on stage. Swiss caught Mountain’s eye once he was settled on the box he used as percussion. He saw the twin green flashes of his eyes behind his mask wink at him, silently wishing him luck. Swiss beamed back at him, his teeth glinting in the firelight through the bottom of his mask. With a final tune of his guitar, and another smile at Sunny, Swiss nodded to Copia and the man addressed the crowd. 

The ritual passed in a blur, and before Swiss knew it, they were leaving the stage to rapturous applause and cheers. As he stepped down onto the solid floor, Swiss had a large beer thrust into his hands by a grinning stranger. The jubilant atmosphere continued as the night wore on, the ghouls and their Papa swept up with the crowd, never finding their tankards dry. Even the ghouls who had not been performing seemed to be having fun, spending the local money Copia had given them to allow them to fit in and enjoy the night. The man himself was circling through the crowd, inviting anyone and everyone to the Abbey’s harvest festival the following night. His plan to spread their message was going better than any one of them could have imagined, and he had gained the interest of several curious village members.  

The noise and ruckus were proving too much for Aether however, and after a while of watching Dew and Swiss race each other to down their pints, he grabbed a pair of tankards and slipped out the door. Another musician had taken the stage, an accordion player, and Aether found Cowbell tapping along to the beat on the frame and iron wheels of the cart with two sticks like it was a drum kit. Aether chuckled as he approached. 

“Copia ought to make the band all wear floor-length robes, then you could join them!” 

Cowbell looked slightly sheepish at being caught, but their forked tongue slipped out as they smiled anyway. They joined Aether where he perched on some crates and accepted one of the beers gratefully. Apart from the rhythmic sound of one foot and one hoof tapping on the ground, they sat in a comfortable silence; two friends enjoying each other’s quiet, unhurried company. 

Back inside, Swiss could feel every drop of alcohol going to his head, and he thought Mountain must be feeling it too. The night was blurring together into a busy cacophony of singing, cheering and laughing. The one thing he could feel coherently was the constant, grounding pressure of Mountain’s hands on him. The earth ghoul had slunk across the tavern to join him, then barely let him go all evening, always keeping a hold of his waist or hip, or letting their shoulders press against each other. If their tails weren’t safely hidden away, Swiss had the feeling that they too would be braided together.  

In his fuzzy mental state, he wasn’t entirely sure what could have brought such behaviour on. The almost possessive twinge to it, like Mountain was trying to ward the humans off, was making his him feel even more floaty than the alcohol. Running on a high from the successful performance, Swiss couldn’t find the mental energy to really care about why Mountain was suddenly glued to him, he only cared that he was. He saw Rain and Dew similarly pressed together, and his inebriated mind let him convince himself that they could be the same, if just for tonight. 

Whoever was on stage currently seemed to know the audience well and was gradually convincing more and more of the tavern’s patrons to dance to the jig he played. The humans pressing close, swirling and stamping to the beat, swept the ghouls up in their fervour. Swiss soon found himself pressed closer to Mountain, dancing partners even without indenting to be, the pair clutching each other's arms for balance as they ebbed and flowed with the tide of the crowd. 

As the dance ended, Swiss fell against Mountain’s chest. The earth ghoul held him close while they both caught their breath and laughed at the exhilaration. For a while, they held each other and swayed to a slow dance only they could hear. Hearts beating in sync, Swiss looked up at Mountain to see him already staring down at him. His peridot eyes were at the centre of his vision, the only thing Swiss could focus on. They seemed to grow and expand to fill his field of view, and Swiss only realised that this was because they were getting closer together when the twin points of light blurred out of focus.  

Swiss’s eyes fluttered shut, and with his vision gone all his other senses heightened in response. He could feel Mountain’s breath against his face and could smell the sour note of beer in it, although he didn’t find that as off-putting as he supposed he should as he stretched up on his tiptoes to bring them closer still. Swiss felt rather than heard Mountain’s final sigh against him, before the soft yet insistent press of Mountain’s lips to his shook him like an earthquake. With all their prior hesitancy washed away by the free-flowing liquor, Swiss pressed back instinctually, throwing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and holding on like his life depended on it.  

Time meant nothing to the pair as they ignored the general ruckus of the crowd around them, and the chorus of whoops and cheers that Dew was leading. It was like all the background noise had faded away leaving only them stood in a world of their own. Before long, although it was really several hours at this point, Copia was desperately trying to shepherd his sleepy, tipsy ghouls and the Siblings into the cart to head back to the Abbey. They had a busy day tomorrow, he reminded them, as he had promised all the villagers that their little band would be performing at the harvest festival too.  

Slowly, they all stumbled out into the brisk night where Aether and Cowbell were waiting, three sheets to the wind themselves. Swiss and Mountain had managed to make it over the threshold of the tavern without separating, but getting into the cart proved more difficult. Breathing their own air for the first time in a while, they unsteadily clambered into the trailer, cramming themselves into a corner to continue where they left off, despite the jeers from the ghouls around them. 

“Even we're not that bad!” Swiss thought he heard Dew crow from somewhere behind him. 

Eventually, they had made the short trip back up the hill and were all bumbling back into the Abbey, still drunk off free beer and good energy. Kiss broken, Swiss continued to hold Mountain's hand as he pulled them into the Den and their room. He kicked his boots off, uncaring where they landed as they tumbled into bed, still giggly and touchy but both too tired to do any more than that.  

“Today was fun.” Swiss purred sleepily, as he wriggled in Mountain's arms. The earth ghoul was almost asleep already as he hummed in affirmation. Quickly, they fell into a deep, contented sleep. They could think about what the events of tonight meant for them in the morning. 

To be continued... 

[pocket-raven]

What's this au you speak of? Can we hear more about it? 👀

👀 You mean my radioapple murder husband au? One moment *screams into the void* YES YES

Okay, So where do I start? Well it does have a name: It's the Foresaken Lovers Au, so any further posts will refer to it as that. If I write it up however, it will have a different name. Haven't figured it out yet though. Anyways some basic details that i wish i could draw because then people might be more interested but for now you get my rambles instead.

Lucifer and Alastor grow up together in New Orleans. Think Tiana and Lottie from Princess and the Frog. But there is a few differences. Like the obvious racism from Lucifer's family/others around them.

Infact Cecelia (Alastor's mum) tells Alastor (who's like.. 5 when he and Lucifer first meet). Not to get too upset if Lucifer doesn't send him any letters.

Also Alastor and Lucifer are essentially childhood sweethearts in this tbh.

Lucifer is pretty much raised by Michael. Michael was a little shit/got into a lot of trouble so the family was like "You can look after your baby brother now" to teach him responsibility

This unfortunately leads to Lucifer actually be infantilized his entire life. Only Alastor and Cecelia treat him like a person and not some delicate Doll.

Now not spoiling the entire plot yet lol. But basically they grow up together. Kind of.

I really don't want to spoil much unless more people ask. But Lucifer is actually the first to kill someone. And doesn't bat an eye when he finds Alastor stabbing his father's body repeatedly. Infact Lucifer gets everything cleaned up and tells Alastor how to dump the body.

They have their first kiss after they dump his body in the bayou-

They don't actually start killing till Cecelia passes away and Alastor is at his breaking point.

Alastor kills, Lucifer cleans up. Thats it. Their both cannibals too

They both die within a week or two of eachother, but don't find eachother for a few months, nearly a year.

Vaggie fell to hell years before Alastor died. So she and Charlie are in a relationship and have opened the hotel already. Charlie is also just Liliths daughter. But they are the reason Alastor and Lucifer find eachother again

I can't think of anything else right now and this is already long, so I'll stop right here. And hope more people are interested lol

[hurtspideyparker]

Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker

Tony and Peter finally arrive in the large room, polished leather Oxfords and stained-lace Converse making their way through the crowd of professionals. Tony has a hand on Peter's back guiding him, because no matter how many meetings, conferences, and office buildings they traverse together, Peter always manages to get lost the second Tony lets go. 

Thankfully Pepper is easy to spot, shaking hands with some blah blah from wee woo Industries. Her hair is the only splash of colour in the constant white black grey of everyone's pencil skirts and collared shirts. 

"Hi Ms. Potts!" Peter greets as soon as the woman turns and spots them. 

"Hi Peter—Tony. I told you to stop bringing the kid to these things. No offense Peter."

"None taken! You look lovely, did you get your hair done?"

Pepper's hair cascades over her shoulder in perfect curls, splayed out over her white button-up. 

"Yes actually, a trim and some highlights. I think she went shorter than I asked though, because I always get half an inch, and this does not look like half an inch."

Peter steps a bit closer and squints at the piece of copper hair she's holding out. 

"I think it's just because she curled it. You usually get it blow dried after."

"Hm. I think you're right actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm so glad you guys are having such a great slumber party. C'mon kid I have to avoid that senator and he's starting to glance this way." He tries to head over to some tall plants that happen to be great blind spots. 

"Ah ah ah Tony! We are talking about this. I told you to stop dragging Peter to all of your work responsibilities. I'm sure he's bored to death with these meetings and work events."

"Pep, he's an intern, he's supposed to be bored and taken advantage of. Besides, if you take away my emotional support intern then I simply wouldn't show up! So."

"You aren't even paying him for his time!" Pepper says at the same time Peter mumbles "emotional support intern?"

"Um excuse me, that 3 million dollar suit he stuffs between his math homework and Go-Gurt begs to differ. And anyways, I pay him with experience. I brought him to that seminar in LA on Saturday, and he's following me to Tokyo for that week long conference in July. I highly doubt he's complaining," he squeezes the boy's shoulders, Peter looking up and beaming at him and Pepper. 

"I'm really fine with it Ms. Potts. Besides, the more of these things I go to the more lab time I get!" Peter pipes in.

Pepper glares at Tony. "Really, bribery?" 

"Okay well, if us grown adults don't want to be here how else am I supposed to get a 15 year old to talk about environmental reform to people who don't even believe in climate change." 

Pepper and Tony hold each other's stares.

"You mean he spoke to Mr. Ellis about the generator you designed for his carbon plant, and it didn't end with him calling us a pansy corporation and you calling him a decrepit geezer who's business is the only thing that's going to die quicker than he is?"

There's barely stiffled hope supressed under Pepper's professionalism. 

Tony smirks. "Yep, I think Mr. Ellis even smiled. The kid's got charm! Who knew."

Pepper glances at Peter in consideration. 

"Peter have you ever considered pursuing anything further in business? Engineering is great, but if you really want to be successful it's incredibly important to build interpersonal skills, leadership, and even current market and finance knowledge. I mean you might want to sell your designs one day, or start a company." 

"Oh, I haven't really-"

"You could shadow me! I mean interning with a CEO is a once in a lifetime opportunity, it would give you a glowing resume, and I know a lot more about this stuff than Tony. He didn't even perform his executive duties when he actually was the CEO."

Pepper has that gleam in her eyes, the one she gets when men call her sweetheart, or when Tony isn't even dressed for their reservation that started ten minutes ago. 

It means she's already had the argument in her head. 

Peter is still stuttering, flustered with this side of Pepper. Her business face isn't usually directed at him, and it's a far cry from the woman who sends him home with leftovers from dinner. 

"Wait wait wait, are you trying to steal my intern?" Tony asks incredulously. 

"If anyone even needs an intern Tony it would be me. I have to babysit you and the company, meanwhile you just need him to hand you wrenches. Competent help is hard to find these days and you're wasting his talents." 

"Um, excuse me, he's the only thing keeping me together. You already have your fancy day planner and Excel spreadsheets, I need him to get me out of the house. He's the only thing keeping me a responsible adult, if you take away my emotional support intern then I will not attend a single meeting for the rest of the quarter." 

"You are such a man child!"

"La la la la can't hear youuu," Tony says with his fingers in his ears.

"Um, guys, I think people are staring."

Peter tugs on the corner of Tony's sleeve to get him to unplug his ears, glancing nervously at the groups of people sending them judgemental stares. The three of them give a wave and pleasant smile, most of the crowd continuing to move along on the grey carpet at the sight of their unsettling synchronicity and false turn of the lips. 

Pepper speaks through her teeth, a grin still presented at passers-by. "Fine, you can keep him, but only because he's doing half my job for me. The only person you can emotionally regulate around and it's a teenager. I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep you entertained." 

"Love you too honey," Tony says while putting a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. He sighs, looking around the room at all the government officials who think these tech companies are spying on them. 

Apparently a surveillance state is only cool when they do it to manipulate their incarceration numbers, rig elections and lobby votes, and not for data mining and targeted ads. 

"I say we hit the cheese and crackers, take an awkward amount of sips from those tiny water bottles, and then speak to some old ladies till we have to do our presentation."

"Sounds great Mr. Stark. Will you make sure they don't grab my face again? I smelled like old lady perfume at school and Flash started making fun of me for stealing people's grandmas."

Tony looks into Peter's eyes questioningly and finds nothing but sincerity and resignation in them. 

"Well. Not my fault your cheeks are so gosh darn cute. But I'll do my best," he wraps an arm around the shorter and starts heading through the room again. 

The weight is comforting. Peter used to get anxious at these events, but Tony never leaves his side and is always looking at him like he's the Michaelangelo in the center of every room. He became accustomed to being Mr. Stark's favourite part of the event. While that may not seem difficult, especially considering the droning lectures and snooty company, it always feels special making jokes about people's ridiculous work jargon, and comparing the staleness of crackers at conferences. 

"Emotional support intern huh?" he says smugly. 

Tony glances at him, but instead of scoffing or denying anything, he just speaks with honesty. "You and Pepper are the best, most important things to this company. And to me. I'm really glad you're here kid."

Peter doesn't know what to say. The words stick in his throat while Tony hands him a water bottle with the lid already cracked. 

Peter has super strength; It's completely unnecessary to open his bottle for him. He doesn't point this out. Tony will do it at the next meeting, just like he did at the last one, and Peter will never mention it.

[forwoonnagi]

Heartbreak girl

Trope: friends to lovers

Pairing: Taesan x reader

Synopsis: Taesan’s tired of seeing y/n crying due to her stupid boyfriend. He's also tired of being just y/n’s “best friend”, he wanted to be more.

Author's note: inspired by the song “Heartbreak girl - 5 seconds of summer".Haven't written in so long so bare with me yall HAHAH <33

warnings: bad grammar </3 

 “You call me up

   It's like a broken record

   Saying that your heart hurts

   That you'll never get over him getting over you “

It was 10:54 pm and Taesan was just in his room listening to “I don't love you” by MCR. It was quiet in Taesans room. It wasn't unusual but it was too quiet..He missed the sound of her laugh..her voice..her in general. That girl was his best friend, Y/n L/n. His friends would tell him to make a move but he couldn't. Especially since she had a boyfriend. He let his mind wander randomly till it was interrupted by a vibrating sound that stopped his music.

“Y/nie calling..”   

Taesan would usually ignore calls and messages but Y/n was an exception. He sat properly and cleared his throat before answering. He felt nervous..was it because he was just thinking about her few minutes ago?

“y/n?”

“Taesan..we fought again.”

Taesan never liked Y/n's boyfriend. Not because he was taking Y/n from him but because he was a jerk. He would break up with Y/n then get into a new relationship then after a month or so he would go back crawling to Y/n. The problem was, Y/n always goes back to him..

“What happened..are you okay?”

“He said I was being obsessive because I wanted to be with him..He said he was hanging out with Maya later..”

“Then I found out they were going out on a date..again.”

“Y/n..I told you to stop going back to him..You guys always fight then break up then get back together..aren't you sick of him?”

Taesan’s heart clenched as he can hear Y/n crying through the phone.

“And you end up crying

And I end up lying

'Cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do”

“Try not going back to him Y/nie..Just this time please..”

It was quiet for a while. Which felt like an hour to Taesan.

“Uhm..When's your band performing again?”

Right..Taesan had a performance this friday.. Taesan loves music. He played,listened,made,danced to music. It's like Taesan can't function without it.

“Uh, this Friday, Why?”

“Can I be your date for it?..Justin was supposed to be my date but he canceled at the last minute and is taking Maya instead..”

Every year we have festival day. Where all students go to school on a Saturday and go to the festival where clubs have small booths where you can sign up or try. Then every night there would be performances like dance shows, theater, musicals and bands. This year Taesans band was lucky enough to be one of the students performing. The seniors had to bring a date to the night show. Where there would be   photobooths, stargazing, confession walls and kissing booths. 

“Hello? Taesan, are you there?”

Taesan was zoned out. He was shocked that Y/n..His Y/n.. was asking him to be her date to the night show. That was his chance to win her. To show her that he's better.

“Uh yeah sure. I'll pick you up at 4:40pm?”

“Okay! Can I watch you practice tomorrow? Or is it a secret~”

“Sure you can watch. We're gonna practice after classes till like 6. Is that okay?”

“Yup! Good night, Taesanie! See you” 

Omg.. Taesans' world was suddenly coming together..

Authors note: SO THIS IS VERY SHORT BUT ILL MAKE PT2 HOPEFULLY THIS WEEK <33

[dannyuta]

9-1-1 | 7x05: You Don’t Know Me

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[marcirose]

Nobody understands Kingdom Hearts that well cause everybody compares it to shonen anime when it's actually a magical girl anime because it has:

-A protagonist who is an ordinary lad who got given a special power that could save the universe

Teammates that the protagonist can lean on and who help the protagonist with said special power

A love interest heavily involved in the plot that both motivates the protagonist and is motivated by the protagonist

A monster of the week format that has its own standalone conflict that eventually leads to the next major plot point in the story

Overarching themes about love and friendships and connections and identity

[wheatcak3]

ive been thinking about this ever since i watched the barbie movie 😭✨

[catabasis]

“Just the two of us. We don't need Heaven, we don't need Hell, they're toxic. We need to get away from them, just be an us. You and me, what do you say?” GOOD OMENS 2 (2023)

[smallestchurch]

The Buddha's temple bells toll the message… that all existence is impermanent. The sal tree's blossoms turn white to grieve him: a reminder that all who flourish must fall.

HEIKE MONOGATARI (2021) prod. by Science SARU

[barrowsteeth]

What will happen to us? I don't know.

[noweakergirl]

I keep these longings locked (the shoe) in lowercase inside a vault (his book)

part 1 in my Hilda Furacão series of edits

credits for some of the screenshots: x x x