uhhhhh

day 2: rose makes breakfast and sets the table

day 3: dave makes breakfast sets the table and includes little placards on each end with their respective names in a nice font

day 4: rose makes breakfast sets the table and includes little placards on each end with their respective names in a nice font and shutters the windows and lights long, tapered altar candles for mood lighting (even though it is, remember, breakfast)

day 6: dave makes breakfast sets the table and includes little placards on each end with their respective names in a nice font and shutters the windows and lights long, tapered altar candles for mood lighting and has filched, from somewhere, a pair of tigers, collared in gold and lounging amidst their feet as they partake in berry berry kix for the 6th day in a row

day 7: rose makes breakfast sets the table and includes little placards on each end with their respective names in a nice font and shutters the windows and lights long, tapered altar candles for mood lighting and has filched, from somewhere, a pair of tigers, collared in gold and lounging amidst their feet as they partake in berry berry kix for the 7th day in a row, and has replaced their chairs with thrones immaculate, hers a deep, dark ebon wood, wild and overgrown while his is a magnificently wrought copper, a thousand layers of filigree woven into each other until it is impossible to tell where one strand ends and the other begins

day 8: dave makes breakfast sets the table and includes little placards on each end with their respective names in a nice font and shutters the windows and lights long, tapered altar candles for mood lighting and has filched, from somewhere, a pair of tigers, collared in gold and lounging amidst their feet as they partake in berry berry kix for the 8th day in a row, and has replaced their chairs with thrones immaculate, hers a deep, dark ebon wood, wild and overgrown while his is a magnificently wrought copper, a thousand layers of filigree woven into each other until it is impossible to tell where one strand ends and the other begins, and when rose begins to so delicately raise a spoon of cereal to her lips he knocks his own bowl aside and stands with dramatic flourish, tears in his eyes, and relays a poem in an ancient language, as dead as the poppies withered in the vase between them, artfully navigating the unfamiliar twists of syllables in a self-set rhythym, describing her beauty, her grace, like aphrodite, like athena, both born from the head, his voice risen in cresendo for the final line, before he pauses for a breathless moment, and returns to his seat. rose takes a bite.

day 9: “theres no more kix.”

blonde

codependent

children (half the time)

adults (not often)

morbid, temperamental, prophetic

doomsayers

laughing, knees knocking under the table top, rosy-pink from the glisten of their waterline to the flush of their cheeks

sad

coping, recovering

always sniping

never fair-weather

chamomile, eglantine

sat on stone facing a countdown, a sun, a timer, fingers reaching through space and toward each other

gods

lactose intolerant

lovers (hands clasped tight)

tired

collab with @turntech-fuckedinthehead

I colored the starting doodle of that last pic I did of them…

theyre my fav derseship...tho when i draw them together its usually the alpha versions. cuz i mean, well. they have intercourse

the online friendship aspect is what gets to me like. over text, dave sees TT as one of his best (only) friends. he meets her in his dreams. but how do you even to begin to describe the mess of what they are to each other in person... he already knows exactly what to say to make her laugh but he didn't know that her eyes would crinkle when she does. and dave grew up alone in that apartment. how do you behave when you've never really hung out with a girl before, even been alone with one, and here is this teenage girl (his best friend) who looks exactly like him. his sister who should be identical except there's the bare strip of thigh under her skirt that he sweats when he thinks about

and you're together on a meteor or abandoned in an empty timeline but in either case the only remaining tether you have to humanity is each other, isolated children who came from empty houses. and they're bundling up together in one bedroom reminding each other what human bodies feel like. maybe for the first time

they are tied up in each other’s arcs so deeply because they’re like two halves of the same whole etc etc but they’re separate people that have different arcs and that’s. rough. considering the románce but at least for me, as someone who’s a dave//rose blog but also loves the canon ships, i think they’re fundamentally different?

ros//ary is sweet and beautiful and i honestly think 🅱️anaya is the love of her life but dave is the love of the one after that and the one after that and you get the picture. it’s just strange bc i think davros is like operating on a different level compared to the other things where it’s less of a traditional romance and more of this cosmic thing that’s like not alterable at all

like i just sort of feel that dave and rose have their troll so’s and they’re genuinely happy with them? but when their hands brush and they meet eyes there’s this unspoken agreement where they’ve matured beyond codependency and have their own lives but there’s always this underlying something that’s just not gonna be tied down. like they’re best friends in canon and just through virtue of that it’s the homage to the thread between them. they need the other one to complete themselves basically???

there’s always going to be this connection on late nights at the meteor and in earth c where dave and rose like. know. like i don’t think they’d ever stop being the first most important to the other even if they have reached the point of ultimatum. they’ve died together in every universe, they have superpowers, they know they’ll die together in this one. they know they’ll meet in the next one? i feel that they can be their own people and love other people as long as the other half of the pair is There.