Started Out With A Study And It Just Derailed From There.

someone on twitter is trying to claim that use of an em-dash is an indication of AI-generated writing because it’s “relatively rare” for actual humans to use it. skill issue

you know a fic is good when it has this

Credit to: user

THE BROKEN BONES ON HIS BOOT

do you know your paternal grandfather?

Mushy May Day 11: Sitting on Their Lap

Pairing: Dew/Aether

Characters: Dew, Aether

Tags: Fluff, healing

Word count:

Summary: Mushy May Day 11

Dew has just come out of his elemental transition, he doesn’t feel worthy of anyone anymore, Aether doesn’t fail to prove him wrong.

Fic below the cut or in ao3

@forlorn-crows

Dew was in the ghouls’ wing of the ministry, sitting alone on an armchair of the common room. The new summons for the fourth era of the ghost project were sitting in the same room, they were his pack now, he supposed, even if he hadn’t even gotten to know them yet because of his elemental transition. He still had Aether and Mountain, he supposed, that was nice.

Aether had spent all of Dew’s recovery with him, using his quintessence to keep him stable during the whole aftermath, but once Dew had been able to move for himself again, he hadn’t let Aether stay, he couldn’t handle having him in the same room when Dew couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror from disgust. He hated the changes that fire had brought to him, being stripped of the water that had accompanied him his whole life was like taking away his very essence, it felt wrong.

And now, here he was, out of his bedroom for the first time in weeks and sitting among the other ghouls, who looked at him weird, because they hadn’t even met him yet. Then, he heard footsteps from the door, he didn’t need to look to the side to know that it was Aether that was walking in, he dreaded his very existence at that moment. Aether let out a quiet gasp when he saw the now fire ghoul sitting there and walked up to him “Dew?” He asked quietly as he placed a gentle hand on Dew’s shoulder.

Dew looked up at Aether with an expression that could only be described as conflicted. Dew loved the quint, but didn’t want him to see him like this. But, even if Dew had thought about leaving the room, it was too late. Aether was already on his knees in front of him and hugging him, “I missed you, drop…”

Dew had to hold back his tears - that now burnt him - as he gave in and wrapped his arms around Aether too. A few minutes later, they found themselves with Dew sitting on Aether’s lap as he ran his fingers through the shorter’s hair.

“You’re beautiful,” whispered Aether, “just like before.” Dew had a hard time believing that, but after about ten times of hearing some variation of those words, he started believing it.

obsessed with stories that start out silly and stupid and then turn out to be deep and heartbreaking in their beauty. like okay, make me cry at midnight while i reflect on the true meaning of friendship i guess

i love you green. i love you forests. i love you smell of damp earth. i love you feeling before the storm breaks. i love you moss. i love you rivers. i love you streams. i love you thunderstorms. i love you sunlight shining through leaves.

With peace and love, the band Ghost fandom needs to cease with the anon hate, shipping discourse shenanigans, Tiktok vs OG fans, and general infighting.

Let’s enter a new album & tour cycle being chill asf and using the blocking system + blacklisting tags instead of being a dick 🫶🏽

Adding to this, I remember being in third or fourth grade, I'm not too sure, I had had an argument with my only friend, and I spent the day walking around the playground and singing to myself about how only the school, the fucking building, was my friend.

I look back on that and now understand why I'm a people pleaser

There's no lonelier feeling than thinking that a building is your only friend.

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me