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isa-beenme · 1 year

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single mom with Cassian?

I can totally imagine myself trying to run away from him because he's handsomely intimidating

Someone made the request, and then I scrolled down through Cassian Appreciation Week and BOOM idea

"6. Day Six: Lord of Bloodshed X Cassian is one of the most powerful Illyrians in history. How do you think he earns - and continues to earn - his unofficial title?"

Answering now: he has his fandom, every famous person has one, it wouldn't be different for him

Idk if the time is over for this prompt, but in my time zone there's still one hour left so

Kiss The Girl

As a single mom, you had always been supportive of your daughter's interests, even when it came to her fascination with the General of the Night Court. Despite the warnings from her classmates and teachers at school, she was determined to prove that he was awesome and cool. Since the first time her grandmother (your mom) told her about the day the General saved her life during the attack against Velaris, your daughter has been obsessed with him.

From wearing something red in every outfit (her dress, her lipstick, her shoes, her ribbon, her socks, or anything like that) to reading every single book of history she could find in the public library that told some tale about her. And then she would tell you over and over again during dinner.

She was his biggest fan (or smallest, if we are talking about height), how couldn't she be? He was the greatest warrior in all of Prythian, the best General in the history of the Night Court, the best Illyrian male, the Lord of Bloodshed, the Prince of Bastards. Oh my, and wasn't he the strongest and bravest soldier in history?

Your daughter kept rambling about it over and over again as you walked through Velaris, buying food and some other supplies for the dresses you had to make during the week. Eloise loved this type of walk since she was always excited with the possibility of finding the General somewhere. As you chose some strawberries and raspberries for a future cake she suddenly started to shake your hand and jump up and down.

-Mom! Can I walk alone? I saw something I like - She started tugging the hand you held her, quite stronger than usual if you could say.

-Let me just pay for the fruits and we can go together, love - You drop her hand to grab money, counting the coins you had.

-No, mom! It needs to be now! Pretty please? - She sounded almost desperate, making you laugh a bit, but one look at her pleading eyes you could only smile and nod, dreading the power she held over you.

-Alright you can go, but be careful, sweetie - To your surprise, instead of walking to a store close to where you were she started to scream with joy and run though the streets, leaving you behind in one of the fruit tents - Eloise, wait! - You called after her, your heart already pounding with worry.

She bolted towards an aleatory spot while you tried to see where exactly she was going to follow her after you finish you payment, since you don't want to steal everything in your bag (although from the laugh the tent owner was holding you don't think he would care that much if you ran behind her too). What you didn't see was the glimpse she got of Cassian walking down the street, two siphons around his hands shining bright red, just as her dress.

The General was just a few streets away trying to look for the art supplies Feyre told him to get when he spotted a little red thing running towards him. It took him some seconds to identify the red running thing as a mini fae and he immediately crouched down, trying not to look intimidating when he confirmed that she was indeed going toward his direction. But your daughter was the most fearless child you ever met. She went straight up to him and wrapped her tiny arms around one of his arms, her tiny frame not even rounding one big muscled arm.

-Well, hello there, little one. Is everything alright with you? - He said as he smiled wide and tapped her back.

-Yes! I just wanted to say that you're the best, General Cassian! I love everything about you! - She jumped up and down on his arms as small tears started to form in her eyes.

-Oh, do you now? That's very kind of you to say - He quickly dried the droplets that threatened to get out of her eyes, the bag with requests from Feyre long forgotten on the ground.

-No, really! I want to be just like you when I grow up. Can you teach me to fight and be a general too? - She let go of his arm to look at him from the front view, but never let go of him, fearing he might disappear.

-What's your name, small thing? - He played with some strands of her hair, making her even more excited with the situation.

-I'm Eloise, sir - She said confidently, straighten up the posture and all.

-Well, little one, being a general takes a lot of hard work and hundreds of years of pure training. But I'm honored that you look up to me. Maybe one day we can talk about it - Eloise's eyes sparkled with admiration, and she continued to pour her heart out to him, sharing all the reasons why she thought he was incredible. Cassian listened attentively, his heart melting at her genuine affection.

-You are my favorite person in the whole wide world, Cassian! I mean… after my mommy and my granny, but then you are my favorite - She said convincingly, making the General throw his head back in laughter, adoring the attention.

-Thank you so much, Eloise. This makes me happier than you can imagine. I'm glad to know I have such a brave and wonderful fan like you - She squealed in happiness as she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she could ‐ I believe you're not here alone, right?

-Of course not! Mommy is here with me… somewhere - She said sheepishly, almost if she just remembered about her mother.

-Hold on tight, little warrior - Cassian said before lifting her up with one of his arms, letting her rest on his waist - Let's go find your mom, shall we? Can't have her worrying about you.

Meanwhile, you finally caught up to them, slightly out of breath from the chase after running around the blocks searching for your daughter. You were both relieved and a bit mad, but it all disappeared in amusement after seeing Eloise fearlessly chatting with Cassian. And oh my, wasn't he as amazing as your daughter mentioned.

-Eloise, there you are! I was worried about you. Don't ever run away from me like that again - You said as you tried to make sense of your surroundings and not keep looking at the General like a crazy person.

-Mommy, look, it's General Cassian! Isn't he amazing? - She said pointing at him, he turned at you with such a big and radiant and beautiful smile that almost made you weak on your knees. Almost.

-Yes, he is, sweetie - His smile got even bigger if that was possible, he seemed to enjoy the attention, and you kind of felt inclined to give it to him every day of your life.

-You have an incredible daughter. She made my day with the amount of praises, it's hard for me to get those.

-Really? How so? You're so amazing and look so good that… - You seem to catch your train of thought as you laugh nervously, almost making a fool of yourself - I mean, that's what Eloise always says, so… I would imagine that is a routine for you to be… praised? - You smile as best as you can and take your daughter back, trying your best to not touch any part of that very well toned and built muscles - Anyway, thank you for taking her. She really adores you.

-I think I adore her too. She's quite… remarkable - Cassian's eyes met yours, and there was an instant connection. He seemed to look at you as if the rest of the world didn't matter, in a way that your late husband never looked at you.

Cassian couldn't help but search for an engagement ring on your hand, but as he found none he felt a mixture of relief wash over him that almost made him feel sorry for himself. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but notice how tall, big, and undeniably handsome he was, which definitely made you feel a little intimidated. Feeling ridiculously overwhelmed by his attractiveness, you decided to take your daughter away, practically running from him.

-Come on, sweetie, let's get going! - You said quickly as none of you seemed inclined to look away from each other - Thank you very much for talking with her. It was nice to meet you.

-Nice to meet you, General Cassian - Your daughter practically screamed as you took her away, scared that he might scent the interest you took on him.

-It was nice to meet you too, little warrior - Cassian, however, was determined to win you over, just as he had already conquered your daughter's heart.

Days went by and you couldn't get Cassian out of your mind. You even started to pay a lot of attention to your daughter's tales about him, making her more excited to tell you over and over again. You worked quietly every day in your sewing shop thinking every single detail Eloise told you about the General while you made the dresses to sell, it didn't took you long to realize good part of your drawings and works were coming out red, you let out a laugh when you noticed the amount of red dresses you had around.

Your late husband wasn't exactly the love of your life, you could say. He was a nice gentleman that took responsibility for your daughter once you found out that you were pregnant after one good night with him. There wasn't desire between you two, there was love, but more like friendly love. And when he died in the war against Hybern you mourned him like a friend. It was always you, your mother and your daughter, there was no space for love or anything else. And you were still young, once Eloise would grow up you could find a love for you to settle for and finally relax. So it was hard to understand whatever you were feeling for the General, why your thoughts went to him all the time even if you barely talked to him that day.

As you continued to work in your studio, you were completely surprised when Cassian suddenly appeared in the store. His tall form almost touched the ceiling as he looked around as if searching for something. Or someone.

-Hello there. May I help you? - You blushed slightly at his presence, feeling uncertain yet intrigued by his sudden approach.

-Your daughter told me you had this store and I wanted to check it out by myself - He said it as if he wasn't certain of any of his words, smiling nervously at you.

-She really told you? Why? - He took time to think, you could almost see the parts of his brain trying to come up with an answer until he sighs and gives up.

-Okay, I lied, she didn't tell me about the store. I don't even know why I tried to lie. I think I'm nervous, sorry - He started to rumble a lot and you tried to make sense of his talk, at the same time as you tried to calm down your heart at the mere sight of him - Hm… I asked Azriel- do you know Azriel? Spymaster and stuff? Yeah, I asked him to find you for me and we found out you worked as a seamstress, which made the opportunity to talk to you fall like a glove since Feyre- you know, the High Lady? She's looking for someone to make some dresses for Nyx's birthday and I thought "uh, I can ask you if you can do it and then I can talk to you like I've been wanting to since the day we met" and here I am.

-Wait, wait, wait. Calm down - Your mind was turning over and over as you processed the whole situation - Yes, I can make a dress, but… you were searching for me?

-Yeah, I actually promised a good amount of food and wine to Az for him to find you.

-Why? - The question left your mouth as if you were asking yourself, not him.

-Hm… so, about that. You daughter, Eloise, right? - You only nodded your head, still confused about everything - So, she mentioned she wanted to train. And I can do it, you know? I have a lot of experiences with kids, they love me.

-You have a lot of experience training kids?

-Yes! It's more like the basic, only self defense and basic knowledge on punches and kicks. I am in charge of training Nyx, actually - He said convincingly, trying his best to keep the smile on his face.

-You are in charge of training a barely two years old kid?

-Yes… when he grow up - You couldn't help but laugh at him, his face seemed to chill once you smiled at him - I must admit, your daughter's energy and spirit impressed me. I believe I could help her practice her skills, if you'd allow me, obviously.

While you felt drawn to his charisma, you couldn't shake off the feeling of intimidation caused by his undeniable attractiveness. People simply shouldn't be allowed to look so good. However, the thought of your daughter spending time with someone she admired excited you, and you kind of wanted her to get to know him better.

-Well, I suppose... Maybe we could have dinner together someday, my mom needs to know you too, since you will be taking her granddaughter to kick and punch. That way, Eloise can decide if she wants to train with you - Cassian's face lit up with delight, clearly pleased with the invitation.

-That sounds wonderful! I promise I'll behave, and we'll have a lovely evening. If Eloise agrees we can discuss what exactly I can do.

-And the dress for the High Lady? - He looked at me like he completely forgot about that, the nervous smile coming back to his face.

-She will come by to talk about that - And so, you set a time for dinner at your home.

You were never the best cook in your family, far from that. But you had your skills to be proud of. Your nervousness made you spend hours preparing a delicious meal while your mother laughed at you for feeling like that for a male, a mix of anticipation and fear rising in you as the evening approached. When Cassian arrived, he was the epitome of charm and warmth, making your daughter feel excited right away and your mom turning to you and raising a thumbs up.

-Wow, you're even cooler when you wear normal clothes! Can you really teach me how to fight? Mommy said you wanted to - She pointed at you, who was still helping to set up the table.

-Of course, little warrior. I'll teach you everything you need to know - He even had the audacity to blink at you! Your cheeks burned as if fire was rising inside of you.

Throughout the night, Cassian regaled your small family with tales of his adventures before becoming the General, the ones that weren't written in the books, and your daughter hung onto every word, captivated by his bravery and humor. As the time went on, your initial uncertainties began to fade, replaced by the genuine connection and shared laughter as he made all of you feel at ease.

In the following weeks, Cassian kept his promise and started training your daughter in combat and self defense. It turned out he actually didn't have much experience with kids, but his genuine passion for teaching and caring nature won your daughter's heart even more. As time passed, you found yourself not only appreciating the mentorship he provided to Eloise but also enjoying his company more and more.

He grew closer as a family, helping your mother with her garden by bringing new seeds from every Court and asking tips for Elain or always taking your daughter to eat some sweets after training and always making sure to give her some red gift (her obsession with the color never fading), or even stopping by your store to leave something to eat or taking and fetching Eloise at school so you or your mother wouldn't have to stop working. And easy like that your feelings of intimidation were replaced by a deep admiration for the kind, caring, and honorable male Cassian truly was.

In the end, it was clear that Cassian wasn't just a charming and handsome general; he was also a genuinely good person who cared deeply for the ones he loved. The once-feared general of the Night Court had found a special place in your heart. Not that Cassian's compliments about your looks or scent always helped you ease your growing feelings for him, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the attraction you felt.

One day, as your daughter caught her breath on the ground after a particularly intense training session, Cassian turned to you with that all-too-familiar mischievous grin he wears everytime you stay longer to watch their sparring.

-You know, I can't help but notice how your eyes sparkle when you're watching. It's rather enchanting - Your face flushed deep, not knowing how to react once his tall form reached the bench you were sitting on, you quickly rose from your position to look at him from a better view - I always try to know if it is because of Eloise improvement or if it's just you really happy to see me - Before you could respond, your daughter chimed in, playfully teasing the both of you.

-Come on, kiss the girl already so I can call you my dad! - She said breathlessly but with a smile that reached both sides of her face.

You and Cassian exchanged surprised glances, both of you slightly caught off guard by her remark. However, her words seemed to break the tension that always formed when he flirted, and you decide to take a leap of faith. You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on Cassian's cheek, despite feeling like your face was on fire from blushing. He looked at you even more surprised as a smile started to play on his lips.

-Well, I don't know about calling you dad just yet, but I can't deny my daughter's wishes, you know? - Cassian's eyes sparkled with delight, and he chuckled warmly.

-I couldn't agree more. How about we have that dinner we talked about last week? Just the two of us? - He pulled you closer by the waist, your hands resting on his chest.

-Yes, I'd like that - With that, he leaned in, and this time, he gave you a soft, lingering kiss, your daughter's squeals making you smile during the kiss, feeling as happy as she was.

As the days turned into weeks, your relationship grew stronger, both of you falling into an easy routine. Your daughter's admiration for Cassian only deepened as she saw how much he cared for her family, and in time, she called him "dad" without hesitation.

In the end, this unexpected journey brought love, happiness, and a newfound sense of belonging to your heart. And it all started with your daughter's innocent fascination with the once-feared Lord of Bloodshed, also known as your husband (and Eloise's favorite daddy).

#spotify #acotar #cassian #cassian acosf #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassianappreciationweek2023

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pigeonqueenzofie · 1 year

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Y'all ready for some angst? I have straight-up not had a good time today, concerning some very difficult things my close friend is going through... Sometimes, the point of poetry is not art. Sometimes it's just anger. Just getting to be really, properly pissed at the world...

"The sound of the rocks hitting the water

Is the thunder of my voice as it quakes.

Have I ever told you how I lost my religion?

How I stood in your chapel on that day in that September

and I screamed at you. I demanded an answer.

At last the notion that you had a plan was not enough for me,

I needed details. I needed to know you knew what you were doing.

The only thing I heard was my own hoarse voice,

careening of the vaulted ceilings,

not even enough to shake the body in the monstrance.

So now, I suppose the vaulted ceilings have become a pond,

and my vocal cords have become an arm,

and the ripples cascade uselessly from the locus in the center.

I want to throw the rock at the sky, but it won’t reach you.

I want you to know how loud my voice is when it hits you.

My lips no longer say why

They say how dare you.

They promised her love and salvation, and they gave her death.

And they did it all in your name. Amen.

I swing my arm forward, loosing stone after stone,

until the nerve damage in my arm starts to hurt.

But I keep going. I’ll throw every rock off this beach.

I won’t stop until the pain is too much to bear and then some.

I’ll limp home clutching it to my chest trying to stop it from shaking.

Whether you hear it or not, every splash is a note,

utterly dissonant. Not music. Not art. Noise.

The chaotic static of the aleatory canvas you stretched before me.

Whether you hear or not. I am glad I can see my voice.

At the very least, I can make a pond tremble."

#poetry #my poem #my poetry #original poem #poem #original poetry #spilled ink #poems #poems and poetry #poems on tumblr #spilled poem #spilled poetry #JustALotOfAngerReally

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ofb1t · 6 months

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"morethanjustametaphor"

👁️⃤X digital art

(o O)_/¯ posters available in my shop @ofb1t

Note: From a certain point till now, every image I create is inherently multi-layered. My approach always remains interdisciplinary, relying on a mixed-media technique that includes ai-generated art, video editing, and photo manipulation (or digital image manipulation) using software such as Photoshop. As with other works, I undertook this mixed media work with recurring leitmotifs in my mind: exploring fluid mindscapes in this messy, aleatory, unbalanced, imperfect, excessive, and chaotic existence of ours, and facing the ever-shifting nature of identity. But, of course, that's not all...

thanks for watching

🕸 ✸ ☿ 🜍 🜔 ⋆｡𖦹🕷° 𓋼˚✧࿐ #artwork #digitalart #digitalartist #artoftheday #digitalartworks #dreamcore #alternative #weirdcore #artificialintelligence #liminalspace #contemporaryart #fantasyart #surrealism #newmediaart #darkfantasy #weirdart #artsy #darkart #mixedmediaart #avantgarde #darkaesthetic #art #aiart #aiartcommunity #conceptart #visualart #horrorart #monsterart #gothic #ofb1t

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lis4d4rk · 2 years

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Without too much reasons, i found that tattoo funny and i decided to draw it. But now the cat don't only have a gun, but, it's addicted to cannabis and have nice tattoos :D

the tattoo was taken from Pinterest

#cats #cat art #funny cats #tattoos #funny tattoo #cat tattoo #art #drawing #psychodelic #cannabis #aleatory #fy #foryоu

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rustbeltjessie · 1 year

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Tell me, what is the long stretch of road for if not to sort out the reasons why we are here and why we do what we do, from why we are not in the other lane doing what others do.

We come from a country that has made a fetish if not a virtue out of proving it can live without art: high, low, old, new, fat, lean, and particularly the rarely visible, nocturnal art of poetry.

We must do something with our time on this small aleatory sphere for motives other than money. Power is not an acceptable surrogate.

—C.D. Wright, from Cooling Time

#quotations #typography #c.d. wright #cooling time #poetics #poetry #currently reading

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nirikeehan · 8 months

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Otherwordly Prompts, Part One

Compiled from: http://other-wordly.tumblr.com

Gokotta (Swedish) - (n.) lit. “Dawn picnic to hear the first birdsong”; the act of rising in the early morning to watch the birds or to go outside to appreciate nature.

Natsukashii (Japanese) - (adj.) Of some small thing that brings you suddenly, joyously back to fond memories, not with a wistful longing for what’s past, but with an appreciation of the good times.

Soigné (French) - (adj.) Possessing an aura of sophistication in dress, manner, or design; presented or prepared with an elegance attained through care for the finer details.

Kairos (Greek) - (n.) The perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement; also, weather.

Resfeber (Swedish) - (n.) The restless race of the traveler’s heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together; a “travel fever” that can manifest as an illness.

Serein (French) - (n.) The fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours of night; evening serenity.

Guanxi (Chinese) - (n.) A network of social connections based on mutual trust and the balancing of debts by returning favors so that the relationship’s benefits are shared by all.

Dérive (French) - (n.) lit. “Drift”; a spontaneous journey where the traveler leaves their life behind for a time to let the spirit of the landscape and architecture attract and move them.

Numinous (English, origin Latin) - (adj.) Describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted — the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired. - Fill, Samson/Thalia

Sillage (French) - (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone’s perfume.

Nemesism (English, origin Greek) - (n.) Frustration, anger, or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one’s way of living.

Convivencia (Spanish) - (n.) lit. “Living together”, in the sense of living or working closely with other people with whom you share feelings, desires, or a common purpose.

Lethe or lethe (English, origin Greek) - (n.) A river in the Greek underworld that, when drunk from, made souls forget the sufferings of life; oblivion or something to make you enter oblivion and forget

Scintilla (English, origin Latin) - (n.) a tiny, brilliant flash or spark; a small thing; a barely-visible trace

Orenda (Iroquoian) - (n.) a mystical force present in all people that empowers them to affect the world, or to effect change in their own lives.

Aleatory (English, origin Latin) - (adj.) Reyling on chance or an uncontrolled element in the details of life or in the creation of art.

Firgun (Hebrew, origin German) - (n.) The act of sharing in or even contributing to someone else’s pleasure or fortune, with a purely generous heart and without jealousy; or of sharing credit fairly.

Hüzün (Turkish, origin Arabic) - (n.) a melancholy resulting from inadequacy or failure and weighing so heavily that it becomes communal, resigned, and even curiously poetic.

Noceur (French, English) - (n.) One who sleeps late or not at all; or, one who stays out late to revel or party.

Lítost (Czech) - (n.) regret and remorse and repentance; a state of agony and torment; or sorrow said to be “created by the sudden sight of one’s own misery.”

Offing (English) - (n.) The deep, distant stretch of the ocean that is still visible from the land; the foreseeable future.

Redamancy (English, origin Latin) - (n.) The act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Induratize (English, origin Latin) - (v.) to make one’s own heart hardened or resistance to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.

Finifugal (English, origin Latin) - (adj.) hating ending; of someone who tries to avoid or prolong the final moments of a story, relationship, or some other journey.

Appetence (English, origin French) - (n.) An eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond.

Weiji (Chinese) - (n.) lit. “Crisis” or “critical moment”; from “risk” and opportunity,” the idea that there can be a positive result in a wisely handled risk.

Videnda (English, origin Latin) - (n.) “what is to be observed”; the things that should be seen or visited, especially because they mark the character of a person or place.

Velleitie (English, origin Latin) - (n.) a wish or powerful desire for something that nonetheless is not or cannot be followed by actions meant to pursue it.

Consenescere (Latin) - (v.) to grow old and grey together; to stay too long in an occupation; or to decay, to lose respect, to fade.

Aspectabund (English) - (adj.) Letting or being able to let expressive emotion show easily through one’s face and eyes.

#writing prompts

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maren-gvf · 1 year

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She’s Going, Going, Gone.

A short story written by Eden N.

Warnings: Sad content, goodbyes, heartache

Word count: 3119

Recommended playlist:

Four years. Four years of standing through hour-long rambunctious photoshoots, attaching luggage tags to unattended suitcases, scrambling to find lost lucky guitar picks, and screaming, “Asses in the van or you get left, MOVE please!”. God. Time flies.

The start of it all: 10 years ago, you were dragged into watching Ronnie’s twin brothers run a “test” band rehearsal in the eclectic, messy Kiszka garage. You knew they were good. No. You knew they were great. But what you didn’t know was that technically was the start of what would be your eventual, literal, actual, serious, real career as “The OG” official band manager for Greta Van Fleet. Five days later, in school, an overly-excited Josh made you sign your name on a blue crooked dotted line drawn on a slightly wrinkled sheet of lined paper, underneath multiple large words like, “solemnly”, “aleatory contract”, and “liability”. Not long after that, you were signing your name on a much heavier, thicker sheet of paper in a much nicer, professional meeting room. Still, the words in that contract were surprisingly similar to the first, which to this day is folded neatly in the front pocket of your GVF Documents binder.

This was never, ever the plan. The plan was: 1. Attend Boston College and major in Theatre Arts. 2. Land an amazing audition for Broadway. 3. Ace said audition and become a star. To say you used to be a dreamer would be a vast understatement. But after a week of pleading from all four boys, some extreme bribery, and several long discussions with Mom and Dad, you were miraculously allowed to take a gap year and start booking the band. The rest is history.

Now, seated in the tiny kitchen of what’s been called the “Getaway Cabin”, you watch through the window as Jake slowly pulls the truck back into the gravel driveway below. He had to take a minute away. Or 30. It’s been a hell of a day. You’ve been an avid participant of many arguments in the past, but today takes the cake. Today is the worst day. Not just in terms of fights, but ever in your whole existence. Ever.

You see, when you spend months at a time with the same four crazy people every single day for years, you kinda start to love them a little bit. And hate them. And admire them. And everything in between. You watch them learn, and you learn. You learn that Josh refuses to eat mustard on anything and nothing pisses off Jake more than a bad parking job. You learn that Sam could tell you almost anything about outer space and Danny won’t travel anywhere without his slippers. You just don’t realize while you’re noticing all the littlest parts about each of them, they’re doing the exact same to you.

So yeah, you’re kinda bonded. For like, forever. Until today. Because at some point, after the universe plants a dream and a passion inside of you, that takes over. And you ignored it for a long, long time. But you can’t push it away forever.

You hear the front door open, and then close softly. The old wood floor creaks as Jake slowly makes his way back into the kitchen. You haven’t moved. Your hands cup your cheeks as you watch him take off his sunglasses. His eyes are swollen and red. He sets them gently on the kitchen counter, and slowly takes back his seat in the small wooden chair across from you, arms crossed. He pauses to rub his right eye gently before speaking.

“I know. I know you have to do this. I know.”

You feel the warm tears roll slowly down your cheeks again. There’s really no use in trying to stop them anymore.

“I wish it wasn’t right now. And I wish you told us in a different way. A better way,” he says slowly, looking out the window, brows slightly furrowed in a painful look of contemplative confusion. It goes silent for a moment.

“I’m happy for you. And I’m fucking proud of you,” he chokes, barely finishing the last word. He’s looking right at you now, teary-eyed, and you take in every beautiful feature of that face you’ve gotten to know so well. There was always something more with him. Always. Ask anyone, they’d tell you. It was painstakingly noticeable between the two of you. You’d kissed four times, each time swearing it would be the last. The fourth one was two weeks ago. Some things never change.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t give you more time. I’m really, really sorry. But like I’ve said, it’s Broadway. It’s New York. Like, like this is big, this is it, this what I want,” you whisper, shaking your head in disbelief. “This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life ever and-”

“We just love you,” Jake cuts. “We just love you. And I don't know how we do this… all this… without you. But I want you to be happy,” he nods, brushing his nose, “You deserve…shit…sorry,” he pauses, looking up towards the ceiling before continuing, “you deserve every good thing in this whole fucking world. Every good thing,” he rushes, before covering his eyes with his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His shoulders begin shaking.

It makes you sick to see him cry like this, your stomach is churning. He’s not much of a crier, never has been. You can’t help but move towards him, lowering to his level and gently placing his head into the nook of your right shoulder. You hug him into you tightly, cradling the back of his head with one hand. He smells just so…Jake. You squeeze your eyes as tight as possible, holding back what would have been the hardest sob of your life. He sniffs, and finally moves his arms around you, pulling you into his chest while you both breathe in the mellow silence.

The sound of footsteps coming downstairs pulls you apart. It sounds like Josh. The rest of the boys had stayed upstairs, keeping themselves as far away from the conflict today as possible. Fights didn’t usually happen like that. Normally, Josh would’ve interjected a smart-aleck comment and immediately taken Jake’s side, only worsening the situation, while Danny would repeatedly say, “shut up” in the most monotone way possible. Also worsening the situation. But Sammy always took your side. Right or wrong, without fail, every single time. Usually you won.

Josh slowly peers around the kitchen frame, clutching one side of the doorway with two hands. An expression of, “I already know what’s about to happen” covers his face. He moves around the corner and leans his back against the counter, arms crossed. He doesn’t break eye contact with you.

“Well shit,” he says with a slight accent, a sad attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re really doing it, huh?”

You nod slowly, smiling apologetically. Jake lifts his head to face his brother.

“I am. I have to. How much did you hear?” you ask, wiping your cheeks and sitting back in your chair, knees to your chest.

“Mm. A lot. I think we got the gist of it all,” he replies, hands waving in the air. You watch each other's eyes for a moment, the room silent except an occasional sniff from Jake. The pit in your stomach is deepening.

“Ughhh,” Josh groans, tilting his head forward until his chin rests on his chest. He stays there for a moment, before meeting your eyes again. He’s tearing up now too, which only makes you start all over again.

“This is the worst!” you laugh, wiping away at your cheeks for the millionth time. Jake nods and stands up to fill a glass of water. Josh walks over to you, and you get up to meet him in a sniffly, rib crushing embrace. He rocks you side to side, one of his many, many signature moves. After planting a long, hard kiss on the top of your head, he pulls away and slaps one hand onto each of your cheeks, slightly squishing your face. You hear Jake shuffle quietly out of the room. He pulls you close until his forehead touches yours, and the two of you close your eyes.

“You’re stellar. Simply an exquisite human being,” he whispers. You smile. “Who’s gonna dance on tables with me and quote lines from Cabaret?”

Immediately, the two of you break out into shaking laughter, falling into one another until you truly cannot breathe.

“Oh God, Josh I think I’m making the wrong choice,” you say, scanning his eyes frantically, waiting for his answer. He shakes his head firmly.

“No. Nope,” he says, putting a finger up. “I’ll stop you right there. We are going to be fine, and you’re going to be…well you’re gonna be perfect.”

“But I don’t leave until Tuesday. I’ve got like a whole week left. Mostly for packing, I have a shit ton to pack. But I was thinking a party or something,” you ramble, while he stands there nodding vigorously in agreement.

“Absolutely. We’ll do a send-off, Kiszka-Wagner style. It’ll be glorious.”

“Jake’s acting like the flight’s tomorrow morning though, I don’t get it.”

“Well I think,” he pauses, turning to look out the window. “I think this is hitting a little harder for him, ya know?”

“Yeah. Yeah okay, I know.”

“So before you go-go, just make sure he knows… all the things he should probably know,” he says, raising his eyebrows in suggestion. “Just tell him.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying he loves you any more than the rest of us do, because he’s not allowed to, but in case he does…” he trails, leaving you with everything you need to know. You nod in understanding.

“Well. I do have to get back into town. There’s just a whole lot of crap on the to-do list,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Absolutely. And we’ll be right behind you. But in like three days. And then we’ll celebrate all the joys and beautiful memories and blah blah blah,” he smiles, patting you gently on the side of your waist.

“K. I should probably go talk to Sam and Danny I think.”

“Yeah. They already know what’s going on, but go say bye,” he says, nodding to the staircase. You squeeze his hand, and head out into the hallway, but stop at the front of the stairs to glance back into the kitchen. He’s taken a seat at the table, back turned away from you, staring quietly out the window.

The second floor is mostly silent, except for two low voices coming out of Sam’s room. You see his door is cracked, and knock briefly before opening. Sam is directly across the room, legs stretched out on the long window seat with his back against the wall. Danny’s sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling with arms propped behind his head. He rolls over to stand up as you hesitantly walk in.

“Oh man,” Sam heaves, shifting his legs off the cushion and clasping his hands together.

“I come bearing news,” you joke, stomach in knots.

“You’re gonna be a New Yorker now! Always wanted to go there,” Sam enthuses, while Danny smiles at you solemnly, hands in his pockets.

“And now you can! When you visit me every single month!”

“As much as it sucks, because it sucks pretty bad, this is going to be so cool for you. Like you’re going to kill it out there,” Danny says, turning to face Sam who begins nodding in agreement.

“Hell yeah. No doubts. Zero. Plus it won’t even be that bad, we’ll see you all the time, I know it,” he says, pulling at the threads on the seat cushion.

“I’m gonna miss this trio,” you start, staring at the ceiling to compose yourself. A memory begins to form as you focus on holding back the stupid tears. “Do you guys remember when we were in Italy and Danny lost his wallet in that restaurant, so the three of us went back at 2am to find it? And then the owners invited us to stay for a late night snack after we got it? That was the night you tripped and fell into that huge puddle Sammy, I don’t think I laughed harder in my whole life.”

“Yeah, because we were so drunk,” Sam laughs. “Those Italians and their late night snacks, you gotta be careful with ‘em.”

Danny chuckles and shakes his head.

“Top three nights ever, that one.”

“Yeah. Anytime it’s the three of us, I know something crazy’s gonna happen,” you say. And it’s true. You, Sam, and Danny had this special ability to come up with the worst, most irrational ideas which usually led to someone falling, something getting ruined, and headaches in the morning. Oftentimes, it was just their ideas while you ended up encouraging them terribly. God, the two of them made you laugh.

“I’m heading back home today, I just have to start packing. But I’m not gone gone until Tuesday morning. So please, no tears yet, I’m simply here for a temporary goodbye hug,” you insist. The three of you meet in a group hug at the center of the room. You feel a small sob start to form as you get smushed perfectly between them.

“Hey hey hey,” Sam says, pulling away and putting one hand directly on the top of your head to look you in the eyes, “You said no tears. And personally, I’m trying my best to follow that rule right now and you’re making it very difficult.”

You and Danny laugh, distracting you from the reality that lies ahead.

“I feel like I’m leaving my people.”

“Yeah, but you’re not losing them,” Danny reassures.

“Alright, well,” you sigh, putting your hands on your hips, “I gotta get on the road.”

“We’ll walk you downstairs,” Danny says, opening the door.

The three of you make your way back down into the kitchen to find Josh whispering on the phone, pacing the room. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up when he sees you, setting the phone on the counter. You grab your purse off the back of the chair you were sitting in earlier and sling it over a shoulder.

“All set? Made them cry and everything?” Josh asks, eyebrows raised.

“No tears, that was the rule,” Sammy replies. You turn to smile at him.

“K then, bring it in one more time for me,” Josh says, arms wide open. You walk over to wrap your arms tightly around his waist, and feel Sammy and Danny join in. It’s perfectly quiet for a moment, the four of you taking in every second. Your heart’s pounding before you whisper:

“Where’s Jake?”

In scarily perfect timing, you lift your chin to look over Josh’s shoulder, and see Jake slowly making his way into the kitchen from the living room, hands in his pockets.

“Here.”

The boys let you go and the profound silence looms for a moment before Josh interjects quickly.

“Jake, why don’t you take her to her car.”

He nods, and makes his way past the four of you towards the foyer. You can hear him open the front door.

“Bye guys. I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

“Bye, we love you, we’ll see you in a few days,” Sammy replies, squeezing your hand. Josh gives you a wink. Danny simply smiles. You take a deep breath and turn to head out of the kitchen.

Jake waits by the open door. You keep your head down and brush past him, stepping down the porch steps to your car. It’s taking everything and more to keep yourself together. You reach for the car door handle.

“Wait, wait,” Jake calls, rushing down the steps to open it for you.

“Thank you,” you smile, pausing a moment before getting in to stare at the house.

“You’ll be back,” Jake assures, understanding every thought that seems to be racing through your head at that exact moment.

“It’s just going to be a long time. Too long,” you choke, eyes teary. “This place is-”

“Ours. It’s our place, and it’s not going anywhere. Time flies by when you’re having fun. You’ll be sitting right there back at that kitchen table before you know it,” he says, pointing to the window that overlooks the front yard. You plop down into the driver’s seat and look up at him, gathering your thoughts.

“Jake, there’s a lot…,” you start, taking a breath in, “there’s a lot I should say to you. That I need to say. And I never did, but I should’ve. And I regret that. But I promise you, before I leave, I’ll say it all in the best way I know how.”

“Same goes for me too,” he says, shaking his head. “But mine’s worse because I’ll bet you any money that I’ve felt this way years before you ever did. And I wasted those years. Wasted them.”

Your heart sinks.

“We’ll make up for it,” you whisper, grabbing his hands and pressing them to your lips. “We will so make up for it.”

He nods, but a tear rolls down one cheek, and suddenly it all makes sense now. He blames himself. Because the clock has run out, the time is up, and he never said the things he should’ve a long, long time ago. But neither did you.

“Hey, hey look at me,” you say, resting one hand on his cheek. He meets your eyes, and you pause moment before pulling his face to yours and kissing him. It’s gentle at first, but then he presses more firmly into you, sliding one hand onto the side of your neck. The two of you linger in the precious, desperate moment, holding it until you have to separate to breathe.

“That was number five,” you smile, placing both hands on the steering wheel.

“Let’s try to get to at least ten before you get on the plane,” he teases, leaning against the car door.

“I believe in us,” you say, as he shuts the door and plants one more quick kiss on your window. He steps away to watch as you put the car in reverse and roll backwards out of the driveway. You do everything you can to keep your eyes on him, and let the tears flow heavily once you reach the end of the driveway. He’s waving now, and you honk the horn twice before hitting the gas, your blurry eyes on the dirt road ahead. It was never going to be easy.

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #jake kiska fic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #fanfic #sad #Spotify

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longlistshort · 1 year

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It's the last week to see the Gerhard Richter exhibition at David Zwirner in NYC. The show includes a group of Richter's last paintings from 2016-17, two of which are pictured above, as well as a new glass sculpture and recent works on paper.

From the press release-

Celebrated worldwide as one of the most important artists of his generation, with a career spanning from the 1960s to the present, Richter has pursued a diverse and influential practice characterized by a decades-long commitment to painting and its formal and conceptual possibilities. The artist has consistently probed the relationship between painting and photography, engaging a variety of styles and innovative techniques in a complex repositioning of genres. In Richter’s work, dual modes of representation and abstraction fundamentally question the way in which we relate to images.

The exhibition will bring together a significant group of Richter’s last oil paintings, made in 2016–2017, a number of which will be shown in New York for the first time. Richter stopped making oil paintings in 2017, and the final work on canvas he made will be on view in the exhibition. Part of the artist’s Abstrakte Bilder (Abstract Paintings) series—a cornerstone of his practice since the 1970s—the works on view exemplify Richter’s investigations into chance occurrences and the painted medium’s historical and material properties. With their highly worked and intricately stratified surfaces, the last paintings foreground the sheer physical presence of paint and color, enacting a mode of composition that is aleatory yet deliberately planned.

Centrally featured will be 3 Scheiben (3 Panes) (2023), a new glass sculpture that continues Richter’s exploration of human perception and the built environment. Comprising three sequential rectangular panes of transparent yet reflective glass—each one positioned upright and measuring almost ten feet in height—the installation invites viewers to look at, through, and beyond its surface, revealing the inherently subjective and situational nature of perceived reality. Richter has consistently created glass and mirrored works since 1967, often presenting them alongside his paintings and drawings and placing them in the larger context of their surrounding architecture. Crucially, while sculptural, these free-standing glass works are also positioned as a literal reflection on painting and image-making; they respond to the art-historical notion of the painting as both a mirror and a window, while also acting as a powerful corollary to the blurred effect of Richter’s photo paintings, which the artist began experimenting with in the 1960s. As critic Hal Foster notes, “The felt analogy between a composed painting and a contemplative viewer is so fundamental that we are not aware of it until it is interfered with. And this is precisely what the glass pieces do: our reflection, in the sense of our mirrored image, disrupts our reflection, in the sense of our contemplation.”1

An expansive suite of new works on paper from 2021–2022—some made with ink and others with graphite and colored pencil—will also be on view. Richter’s drawings constitute a significant element of his practice, allowing him to explore another aspect of the role of the artist’s hand in the creation of a dynamic and abstract pictorial narrative. Many of these works feature passages of cloudy graphite rubbings juxtaposed with equally hazy semi-erased portions. The artist embeds a sparse network of crisscrossing arcs and lines amongst this backdrop, forming an enigmatic topography that seems to map out the very possibilities of image-making itself. Other drawings on view are composed of abstract monochrome washes of ink and graphite, taking on a decisively painterly appearance; as Richter describes, these works on paper chart out a parallel but complementary path to his painted oeuvre, much like that of “a poem and a novel by the same author.”2

Also on view will be mood, a group of inkjet prints that relate to a recent series of colored ink drawings by Richter, both of which debuted at the Fondation Beyeler in Basel in 2022. Part of the artist’s extensive career-long experiments with the iterative translation and interplay of mediums, these vibrant prints are almost indistinguishable from their ink counterparts, revealing Richter’s continued fascination with the possibilities of image reproduction.

This exhibition closes 4/29/23.

#gerhard richter #david zwirner gallery #david zwirner #painting #nyc art shows #art #art shows #glass sculpture #chelsea art show #chelsea art galleries #drawing #art installation

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