#Curiosity January 2025 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haartemis · 4 months ago

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THE STARS ALIGNED, THEY LED ME TO YOU | Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k

summary: jude starts his 2025 with a quiet morning walk to his favorite cafe, where his horoscope leads him to someone very special. as the year unfolds, the stars continue to chart his path, marking important relationship milestones and memories

warnings: smut

A/N: had this idea for quite a while and it was fun to write! let me know what you guys think :)

january 1, 2025 - cancer, today is all about partnerships and fated meetings. keep an eye out for new connections that could change your life, and all things green. yes, green. 🍀

jude squints at his phone.

he’d downloaded an astrology app as a joke a while back, roped into it by a friend who was one of those people who took astrology really, really seriously. it was all rubbish of course. but for some inexplicable reason, he hasn’t deleted the app yet. maybe it was out of curiosity, or maybe just the fact that he liked having something to chuckle at during breakfast.

this morning, jude doesn’t feel like laughing at all. he groans as he shoves his phone into his pocket, wincing at the dull ache in his head. last night’s champagne had been a mistake. or maybe it was the tequila shots that came after. he wasn’t sure anymore. either way, he was paying for it now. the cold january air didn’t help much either, biting at his skin even through his oversized hoodie and thick sweatpants.

on early mornings during his off days, he liked walking inside the gated community he lived in. sometimes, he even dared to walk beyond the gates, wandering the streets of madrid where he's rarely afforded anonymity. he had a set route, a memorized path that despite technically being habitual by now felt like an escape from the sometimes drab routine of his daily life. occasionally, he'd stop at a small cafe nearby, ordering a small coffee to go. he had an unspoken agreement with the barista on shift during those early morning hours: no acknowledgment of who he was, no whispered recognition in front of the other patrons. or maybe he was overthinking it and the barista had no idea who he was at all. who knows.

he tugs the hood further down over his face, adjusting his headphones and the mask he wore to keep from being recognized. not that he expected to see many people out this early on new year’s day, anyway. there were only the party survivors, disheveled and stumbling back home. no time for them to notice any lone, wandering footballers.

when he eventually reaches and walks inside the cafe, he's not surprised to see that there's less people than usual. just a young couple in party clothes, bleary eyes and sharing a croissant.

he orders his usual, headphones still blasting music, and lingers by the counter as he waits. his eyes do wander though, and he notices a lone figure sitting by the window, her back facing him. his eyes are immediately drawn to the oversized bow in her hair. the bow is bright yellow, a contrast to the muted tones of the cafe.

he finds himself staring, wondering what pressing matter would have someone typing frantically into their laptop on new years day in a near deserted cafe. he watches her, all social awareness seemingly fleeing his mind.

that is, until the girl suddenly turns and gets up. his eyes snap away immediately, and he pretends to be busy with his phone as she walks up to the same counter he's standing by. it strikes him that it would be more awkward if he pretends not to have been looking at her, especially if she'd somehow noticed. so he looks up from his phone and catches her gaze.

the second thing he notices about her, besides the bow, is how strikingly pretty she is. deep brown skin, almond shaped eyes peering through tortoiseshell glasses, and a small smile on her lips as she catches his gaze. annoyingly, he feels his stomach dip. tell tale sign that he's attracted to this girl, which he could've figured out without the physical reaction. jude's a pretty self aware guy, after all.

"don't have a match today?" he voice carries over the music in his ears.

he blinks, momentarily thrown off by her directness. "no, i'm off"

"okay" she says, unfazed. "your coffee is ready"

"huh?" he blinks again.

"your coffee?"

his eyes follow to where her finger is pointing, to find that, sure enough, his coffee is ready and waiting for him. jude curses silently, realizing he was too busy staring at this girl and being lost in his music to notice the barista setting it down on the counter.

he glances up at the barista, who sends him a sly wink, as if to say, caught you.

he murmurs a quiet thank you, pays for his drink, and generously tips. all the while he waits for the girl to strike up conversation with him, or ask for a picture, or yell BELLIGOL!!!!! unprovoked. because that's usually what happens when people recognize him in public.

instead, she asks for a muffin, and when the barista hands it to her on a plate, she simply offers a soft smile to jude before walking back to her seat.

jude's jaw slackens.

"ask to sit with her" the barista, whose name tag reads enzo, encourages from across the counter.

"but-"

"you've got nothing to lose" he reminds him. "if she says no you just walk out and leave and never see her again"

except he does have something to lose. he always does, when it comes to these things. a small, paranoid part of him runs through the scenarios: what if she sneakily took a picture of him while he was standing there? what if she says no, and then runs to one of those stupid gossip accounts on instagram to announce jude bellingham is such a creep, ew!. what if-

the chatter in his mind is silenced when he notices the pin on the barista's shirt, which reads: GREEN PEACE.

jude is immediately reminded of his horoscope this morning. keep an eye out for all things green.

enzo follows his gaze, then grins. "i volunteer there. great cause you know?"

jude doesn't respond. the familiar thought creeps in again: horoscopes are ridiculous, and any person who makes decisions based on them is naive at best and downright cuckoo at worst. but this is harmless isn't it? its not like he's letting astrology convince him to sink his entire net worth into some sketchy crypto currency or something.

so he squares his shoulders and mutters to enzo, "fine, i'll go talk to her"

the barista just gives him an encouraging thumbs up as jude picks up his coffee and heads her way.

she’s still typing as he walks over, her fingers flying over the keyboard with the kind of focus that makes him wonder if she's even aware of her surroundings at all. the oversized bow in her hair bobs slightly as she shifts in her seat. for some reason, he finds that little detail endearing.

when he finally reaches her table, he clears his throat softly.

“hi" he says confidently. "would you mind if i sat here?”

she looks up, tilting her head to study him for a beat. then, with a shrug, she gestures to the empty seat across from her. "go ahead"

she doesn’t look surprised that he’s there. instead, she closes her laptop gently and leans back on her chair as he takes a seat.

“didn’t think you’d actually do it” she says, sounding amused.

“do what?” he asks, also leaning back on his chair.

“come over and sit” she replies, a small smirk playing on her lips. “you were staring for a while”

he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “your bow is distracting”

she adjusts it on the back of her head, and a single strand of curls slips out from where she’d tucked it behind her ear. jude has to fight the urge to tuck it back in.

"got it yesterday"

“i like it” he says, fumbling a bit. “it’s very… cottage core?” he immediately regrets his words, because he has no idea what he's talking about. he hopes he's not embarrassing himself. “it gives off that vibe.”

he's relieved when she laughs. "thanks. i'll take it"

"i'm jude by the way" he says hastily. he hopes he's not coming off as arrogant by not introducing himself earlier, even though she recognized him.

"i'm y/n"

he nods towards her laptop. "y/n, what's got you so busy on new years?"

"oh, i'm applying for grad programs. finshing up uni soon, so yeah" she says shyly.

"what do you go to school for?"

she tells him about her major, how she's feeling about graduating soon. he listens intently, genuinely interested, and when it’s his turn to share about his job and life, he finds himself opening up too. it’s easy; surprisingly easy. for someone he met just ten minutes ago, their conversation flows effortlessly. she’s funny, quick witted in a way that keeps him on his toes, and she laughs at his jokes like she genuinely finds him amusing. it makes him feel good about himself.

enzo wanders over a while later.

"you two need anything else?"

jude glances down at his coffee cup, empty for at least the last twenty minutes. this would be the perfect moment to call it a day, to say goodbye and head home like he originally planned. with january being a very busy month for the team, he knows he should take every chance he gets to rest and recharge.

but leaving is the last thing he wants to do. talking to y/n is fun, refreshing.

"yeah, jude says, before he can overthink it. he nods toward y/n’s plate with a small grin. "i’ll have a muffin too"

II.

april 9, 2025 - today the stars are urging you to take charge, cancer. whether it’s expressing your feelings or trying something new, trust that courage will be rewarded 💪

having a crush is top 10 most painful things in the world.

jude used to roll his eyes at people who said that, chalking it up to melodramatics. but now he knows it first hand. because why in the hell is one person taking up so much of his brain space? how is that legal? how is that remotely okay?

that person is y/n, of course. they're friends now. close friends. friends who hang out regularly, who text a lot. friends who have inside jokes, shared playlists that she uses to tease him about his 'old man music taste', and a mutual understanding that they just get each other. its is great. it’s everything jude could ask for. except for the fact that it’s not enough.

for four months now, he feels like he's been sentenced to a life of angst. the kind that feels heavy on his chest whenever she's near, or worse, when she's not. so much so that he finds comfort in his so called 'old man music', sometimes unintentionally sulking to '70s ballads about longing while staring dramatically out the window like one of those moody main characters in coming of age movies. his mother had caught him once and given him the biggest side eye, as if saying get a grip please!!

and when his woe is me schtick doesn’t work? he distracts himself the only way he knows how: throwing himself at girls who aren’t her.

it’s not something he’s proud of. in fact, it makes him feel like an idiot most of the time. but what else is he supposed to do? she doesn’t seem to want him, not like that, and he’s stuck in this cruel limbo that's seemingly never ending. best bet he has is to try and forget.

on this april evening, jude is walking out of the locker room after a match, his heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline and the high of scoring a brace. y/n waits for him in the underground parking lot of the bernabéu– a rare thing, since she doesn’t care much for football and has only attended his matches once or twice, and always in the company of his other friends. the irony isn’t lost on him: the person who occupies so much of his thoughts doesn’t share his love for the thing that defines his life. it’s baffling, but it doesn't feel wrong, and he’d managed to convince her to come tonight, using the excuse that his mom was out of town and he’d appreciate the company on the drive home.

he finds her leaning against his car, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone.

“hey” she says when she spots him, grinning at him. “you took your time"

"sorry" jude grins back. "there were so many people to take pics with"

then she throws herself at him so suddenly that he stumbles, barely managing to steady them both. she envelopes him into a tight hug, and jude surrenders himself to it gladly, heart pounding insistently against his ribs.

“two goals!” she leans back, her face alight with excitement as her hands grip his shoulders. she shakes him slightly, her energy infectious. “you were fucking unstoppable!”

“thanks” jude giggles, pulling her into another hug. he’ll take any physical closeness he can get.

they stay like that for a moment longer than necessary, and then y/n pulls back, her hands flying to his hair. she tugs gently at one of his coils, frowning slightly.

“your hair is so dry” she says, her tone exasperated but fond. “did you forget to use the leave in gave you? you have to put it on after you shower, jude” she tsked.

out of the corner of his eye, jude notices his driver glancing at them in the side mirror before quickly looking away. he wonders again if this looks like more than what it is. not that he’d mind if it did.

“no, yeah, i did bring it” jude says defensively, but just as he’s about to grab his bag to show her, his hand freezes. his pockets are empty. “shit” he mutters, patting himself down to make sure. “think i forgot my phone back there”

“it’s alright” y/n assures him. “we can go get it”

the elevator ride back to the locker room is quiet. jude shifts from foot to foot, sneaking glances at y/n, who seems to be pointedly avoiding his gaze for whatever reason.

when the doors open, they step into the hallway where jude had been earlier. he spots his phone right where he thought it’d be, face down on a bench just outside the locker room where he’d been taking pictures with fans.

“there it is” he sighs in relief.

“imagine someone nicked it” y/n jokes as she picks it up.

“i’d be fuming” he chuckles, but then he notices her face. she’s frowning down at his screen, evidently bothered by what she sees. a second later, she hands it back to him, a tight, forced smile on her face.

“oh” y/n’s voice is light, almost too casual. “here you go”

jude finds what’s caught her attention. Its a DM notification from a girl, the message preview reading: had fun last week. when can I see you again?

“its uh– its someone i met at a party last week” jude stammers. “we–we didn’t, you know, but–”

“you don’t owe me an explanation” she says quickly, her voice light but strained. “it’s fine”

but it’s not fine, and the sudden distance in her tone cuts deep. jude clenches his jaw, sliding his phone into his pocket as they head back to the elevator. fucking idiot, he scolds himself. but a part of him is hopeful. maybe she cares, maybe she wants him the same way he wants her.

the ride down is tense, a heavy silence between them. jude feels like the words are right there, desperate to get out, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“thanks for coming tonight” he finally says, breaking the quiet. “even though football isn’t really your thing”

she glances at him, her lips twitching. “you’re my thing”

the words are like a punch in the gut, but in a good way. before he can stop himself, before he can overthink, he blurts out: “i like you. more than a friend, i mean. i have for a while now. and i know this probably isn’t the right time or place to say it, but i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way about you”

y/n stares at him for a beat, her eyes searching his face. then, without warning, she steps forward, cups his cheek, and kisses him. it’s soft at first, but when he kisses her back, it deepens, all the pent up feelings spilling out.

“i like you too” she murmurs against his lips in between kisses. “a lot”

she doesn’t say anything more, and neither does he. there’s an unspoken understanding that they’ll get to talk later. there’s time to untangle his messy coping mechanisms, to decide what this is and what it could become. for now, it’s enough to kiss like two people who’ve been suppressing so much for so long. for jude, it feels like a long exhale after holding his breath. its feels like relief, like a much needed respite.

the elevator dings, and they jump apart just as the doors slide open. a staff member is standing on the other side, clearly trying not to stare. jude is too happy to feel embarrased.

“buenas noches!” jude says brightly, winking at the man before grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her out of the elevator, their fingers intertwined.

III.

july 1, 2025 - things are heating up!🔥. the stars are conspiring to bring moments of ecstasy to you, cancer.

the first three months of jude and y/n dating flipped everything he'd pictured for his early 20s on its head: staying single, having fun, engaging in meaningless hookups that served their purpose but left no emotional trail behind. those plans flew out the window thanks to y/n, who makes him laugh until his stomach hurts, who became one of the few people in the world he feels truly himself with, who now goes out of her way to watch football because she knows how much it means to him.

plus he's having the best sex of his life. he really can't complain.

its the middle of summer, a couple days after his birthday and a few before he has to leave on the team's preseason tour. they're in birmingham, taking a quick two day trip before the craziness of their lives pulls them in different directions. jude spends the day showing her around the city—his old stomping grounds, the places that defined his childhood and adolescence. it feels amazing to share this part of himself with her, to show her the nooks and crannies of what makes him him.

now they’re back in his house, indulging in other activities.

“young denzel was so fine. i mean, he can still get it. he's aged like fine wine” she’d sighed earlier, her head resting on his chest. they were cuddling on his sofa, the mighty quinn playing on the tv. they were both slightly distracted: her scrolling through her phone, and jude absentmindedly admiring the bracelet she'd gifted him for his birthday. (jobe had caught him doing the same at breakfast and muttered something about people in love being disgusting)

jude had side eyed her, hand resting lazily on her hip. “was he finer than me?”

"yeah" she'd said without skipping a beat. "definitely"

he'd gasped, feigning offense. "you're supposed to say no. i'm your boyfriend!"

"you're not far off from him, i guess" she'd teased.

"you guess?"

"you asked" she shrugged, fighting a smile. then after a slight pause, "you know, i dated a guy that looked a lot like him once. he was sooo-"

"right that's it" he said, grabbing the remote and turning off the tv. "no more movie nights with you"

"oh no" she deadpanned, tone dripping with sarcasm as she removed herself from his arms and faced him. "how am going to survive without your 28th rewatch of training day?"

jude couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. he couldn't never stay mad at her; not even pretend mad. before she could react, he grabbed her and gently flung her onto the couch cushions, eliciting a surprised squeak as he pinned her down and started tickling her. her giggles spilled out loudly, her protests coming out in breathless half sentences as he attacked every ticklish spot he could find.

one thing had led to another — heated kisses, a move to his bedroom, clothes thrown off frantically, hands wandering—and now here they are, her body curving towards him, her face contorted in pleasure as pounds into her.

she’s so slick, taking him all at once, and jude’s body has no choice but to surrender to its most primal instincts. in and out. plunge in then retreat. he’s dizzy with pleasure, but even through it, he can’t help but feel a little salty about her earlier comments.

"bet offbrand denzel couldn't make you feel like this" jude murmurs against her ear, his voice low and rough. the rhythm of his hips snapping forward punctuates his words.

her nails drag down his back, leaving faint trails as she gasped "he wouldn’t even have to try"

he nips at the soft skin of her neck. "guess i’ll just have to prove i’m better won’t i?"

she's so tight and warm and wet, he doesn't ever want this to stop. his movements grew deeper, more deliberate, and he smirks when she cries out his name, her hands gripping his shoulders like her life depended on it. "say it" he demands, voice a mix of amusement and lust. "say i’m better"

"you’re-oh god, you’re such an idiot" she manages between moans, refusing to give in completely, though her body betrays her with how eagerly it responds to his every touch.

"wrong answer" jude mutters, his lips brushing hers before he kissed her deeply, swallowing her protests and replacing them with soft whimpers.

his pace quickens, each thrust dragging a gasp or a broken words from her lips. jude leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice dipping lower. "admit it" he murmurs, his tone slightly smug. "i'm the best you've ever had"

she doesn't respond, and jude can't blame her, they're fucking so good he can't think straight now. and then, as if she can sense he's about to lose control, she gasps, "don't come. not yet. don't stop, please, baby"

he grits his teeth and tries to obey. then she brings him impossibly closer, so their sweaty bodies are pressed up against each other, and kisses him. and all he can think is mine. this beautiful, sweet girl is writhing in pleasure under him and she's his. he'll thank his lucky stars forever.

afterward, they lie tangled together on his bed, having only moved to discard the condom and clean up. their hearts drum in tandem, fast and loud. y/n looks drowsy, her eyelids heavy.

"i lied, by the way" she murmurs slowly against his chest.

"about what?"

"about dating someone that looked like young denzel washington" she giggles. "i made that up to get you riled up"

jude bites her shoulder playfully. "i hate you"

what he really wants to say is, i love you.

IV.

september 17, 2025 - communication is key, cancer 🗣️. today, the stars urge you to focus on how you express yourself. be clear and open in your communication—it’s the foundation for building trust and understanding.

jude can’t shake the feeling that something is off, and it’s gnawing at him.

he’d flown out of madrid the night before for a champions league away game, catching up with y/n for a bit after settling into his hotel room before calling it a night. now, its the afternoon of the next day and he’s in the locker room gearing up for their final training before the match, and he's feeling uneasy because he hasn't heard from y/n since.

he’d texted her his usual good morning when he woke up. no reply. after breakfast, he’d sent her a funny tiktok, something he knew would usually get a quick response, but still, nothing.

it wasn’t like her, and the silence was starting to weigh on him.

the concern he felt earlier turns into irritation as afternoon turns into evening. if y/n was upset with him, why wouldn’t she just say so? the silent treatment didn’t solve anything, and it wasn’t like her either. they’d always been the type to talk things out.

after training, he tries to distract himself. he joins the boys for a round of video games, their laughter and trash talk filling the hotel room. but every few minutes, his eyes flick to his phone, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. each notification he gets, from group chats to random emails to that stupid astrology app just irritates him further.

they’ve never gone a whole day without talking. ever. the thought nags at him, and as stubborn as y/n can be, jude knows himself: he always caves first. always.

by the time the boys leave his room, jude is pacing, phone in hand. he sighs heavily and hits the facetime button, his thumb hovering over the screen for a split second before he presses call.

y/n’s face appears on the screen when the call connects, and jude’s irritation completely disappears the moment he sees her. she looks exhausted. her curls are a mess, dark circles under her eyes, and there’s something guarded in the way she looks at him.

“hi, babe” he says softly, clearing his throat. “you good? you weren’t responding to my messages all day”

“i’m good" she says curtly.

he waits for her to say more, but she stays silent. he feels a pang of hurt and irritation again. no asking how his day was? how he's feeling before the match?

"how was your day?" he tries.

"fine"

"what did you get up to? how were classes?" he tries again.

"okay"

jude exhales loudly, visibly frustrated. "can i get a response that's more than one word?"

he watches as she shifts around in her seat. "well, i couldn't get a word in last night so i thought what's the point?"

"what?" jude furrows his eyebrows, genuinely confused.

"you were going on and on about your match and your photoshoot coming up and i wanted to tell you about how this exam tomorrow is stressing me out-" her voice wobbles over the last few words and she pauses for a bit, lips pursed and eyes glossy. "- but you couldn't pay attention for the life of you"

jude is silent, jaw slack as he watches his girlfriend on the other end wipe a stray tear away because of him. in his head, nothing seemed amiss last night during their call. but she wasn't lying; he was venting a lot about the match and some logistical issues his agents were worried about for his next shoot. and yeah, maybe he hadn’t given her the space to speak, hadn’t noticed the subtle shifts in her tone or the demeanor that might’ve hinted at how overwhelmed she was feeling.

he curses himself under his breath, because now he realizes that he hadn't even checked their shared calendar the past couple of days, so he hadn't even known about the exam. and to think he picked up the phone because he was annoyed at her.

“y/n” he says, voice low and filled with remorse. “i-i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to-” he stops himself, groaning softly as he facepalms. “i messed up. i wasn’t paying attention, and that’s on me. i’m really, really sorry”

she sniffles. "its okay"

"please don't cry"

"i'm not crying because of you, idiot" she snorts. "i'm crying because i'm stressed out"

jude fully lays down on the bed. "okay, how can I help?"

y/n sighs, wiping her cheeks as she looks at him through the screen. "you can't exactly help me pass this exam, jude"

"no, but I can help you feel less stressed" he says earnestly, his voice softer now. "talk to me, babe. tell me everything. what’s been going on?"

she hesitates for a moment, but when she starts talking, it’s as if a dam breaks. the words spill out in a rush, tumbling as she tells him everything; the material is so much harder than she anticipated, no matter how much she studies it feels like nothing sticks, and the crushing pressure to excel is suffocating her. she pours it all out, every frustration, every fear, every doubt.

jude nods, listening intently. “yeah, that sounds rough. and i made it worse. i should’ve checked the calendar, and i should’ve asked how you were feeling. instead i was just rambling about my stuff"

"you didn’t mean to" she says softly, though her tone is still tinged with exhaustion.

"but I did it, and I’m sorry" he replies, sitting up now, his elbows resting on his knees. “look, communication is our thing, yeah? it’s what makes us work. we can’t let that slide. i don’t ever want you to feel like I’m not here for you, especially when you need me the most”

she gives him a small smile. “and i shouldn’t have just shut down on you today. i could’ve told you how i was feeling instead of ghosting”

“so lets agree no more bottling things up” jude says, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “if one of us is stressed or annoyed or just having a bad day, we say it. no silent treatments, no guessing games”

y/n nods, her shoulders relaxing. “deal”

“good” jude says, his voice lighter now.

they spend the rest of the call catching up on the little things. she shows him the nails she’s planning to get soon, scrolling through her pinterest to show him the design. he mentions that he’s getting a trim in the morning, which prompts her to tease him mercilessly, saying he probably spends more time in his barber’s chair than he does on the football pitch. he quips back that its probably less time than she spends obsessively curating her pinterest boards.

they say their i love yous and good nights, and jude heads to bed, already feeling lighter and more relaxed about the game tomorrow. she has that effect on him, y/n. a way of making him feel seen, loved, and just serene.

he wants to keep her forever.

january 1, 2026 - gratitude grounds you, cancer. 🌟 take a moment today to appreciate everything you've accomplished, as it will give you the clarity and confidence to take the next steps with purpose✨

enzo is standing behind the counter when they enter the cafe, a smile spreading across his face when he recognizes them. it feels serendipitous, almost fated, that they're greeted by the same barista who served them on this day last year, the day they first met.

"ah, my favorite lovebirds!" he exclaims. "happy new year! what will it be today?"

they order their drinks and settle into a corner table, the same one they’d sat at a year ago. between sips of coffee, they make plans to stop by the pharmacy on their walk back to pick up ibuprofen for the hangover still lingering over them.

then, as if it’s the most natural part of the conversation, jude pulls out a key from his pocket and slides it across the table. his expression is soft, his voice as confident as the day he’d first asked to sit with her. “move in with me” he clears his throat. "please?"

she blinks, caught off guard for only a moment, before her lips curve into a smile. “ yes. i mean, i would love to”

it was a long time coming. their relationship is going strength to strength, despite their seemingly different worlds. all because, at their core, they're the same. jude feels proud that he's built something great with someone so special- even looking at her now makes his heart splutter, he's never going to be used to how beautiful she is. most of all he's proud that they’ve managed to carve out a space in each other for each other.

every time she stayed over, every morning they woke up tangled in the same sheets (her inevitably hogging the covers to his annoyance) it felt right. so this question has been building for a while, and when he finally asked it, her answer, immediate and without hesitation, feels like the most natural thing in the world.

they walk out of the cafe after a while, arm in arm. he steals glances at y/n walking beside him and he feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude. for that stupid astrology app and enzo's GREEN PEACE pin. but most of all, for the kismet of that day a year ago, for everything they’ve built since, and for everything still ahead.

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham

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kiyo-cant-write · 4 months ago

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ciel & sebastian w/ servant!reader around ciel's age ✧･ﾟ

Hello! My writing blog was always meant to be multifandom, but recently I have had many twst requests. To keep up with my personal interests, here is a Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler post about my childhood bias/crush (when I was 11-12): Ciel Phantomhive.

While this post is tagged Sebastian x Reader, their relationship is platonic in this particular work because of the reader's design.

Please note that while requests are open, they will not be posted until after the 27th of December or more accurately into the new year (January 2025). Feel free to request anything within the parameters of my rules, but keep this scheduling fact in mind! Thank you!

Summary: [Name] is a recent addition to the Phantomhive Staff, gathered by Sebastian and Ciel. They are around Ciel's age and this leads to some... shenanigans.

TW/CW: canon-typical darkness, manga compliant

Notes: pre-relationship (Ciel), explicitly platonic (Sebastian), the reader is human, the reader is 12-13 years old, they/them pronouns for the reader, take place explicitly pre-Campania

Guest Stars: Phantomhive Staff, Elizabeth Midford (mentioned)

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Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel is initially indifferent to [Name] similar to his feelings toward his other servants about half of the time (even Sebastian).

He doesn't see himself as a child so does it matter?

He honestly tries to avoid [Name] at first because he wants to be seen as an equal to the adults. Baldo commenting to "play" with his "friend" really doesn't help the early stages of the relationship.

Being persistent but not forceful will work well.

[Name] needs to prove their worth and use in the household.

[Name] will quickly prove themselves with "clean-up."

They will kill in the name of Earl Phantomhive.

Ciel notices their willingness to serve.

He admires their dedication to protecting him/the estate.

He is impressed if they do not hesitate to strike.

The more he realizes their use and loyalty, the more likely he is to speak to them or even allow [Name] to speak freely with him.

He doesn't like when Sebastian teases him for it, though.

Sebastian might be the biggest obstacle.

If Ciel feels that [Name] is being overbearing, they get sent to spend time with Finny (16) who is also relatively close in age to them. Though Finny is similar to a child brother at times.

Once they are closer, Ciel may become a bit irritable if [Name] gives Finny too much attention or coddling.

"He needs to act his own age."

Ciel cannot do anything about any possible feelings.

[Name] hesitates to do anything either.

They both understand the betrothal between Elizabeth and Ciel.

Finny had given them a suggestion that they weren't sure what to do with. Was it a good idea? No. Was it a curious one? Yes, indeed. They wanted to know what the master's response would be, but they feared it would only be anger for their disrespect. Still... tempting.

[Name] considered their options as they helped Finny in the garden.

"Do you really think that would be a good idea?" they asked him.

Finny nodded as he attempted to gently weed the garden. The last time Finny did this he ripped out some important plants and Sebastian had been ready to skin him. Since that happened, and after the events of last night's clean-up, maintenance was needed and Sebastian chose [Name] as "Finny Watch."

[Name] accepted it as it was.

"I think it would do the young master some good to have a friend his age who calls him by name! He doesn't have any friends..."

Finny seemed sad about it. [Name] wondered why Finny did not try to be a "friend" to their master, but Finny seemed to sense their curiosity. He shook his head.

"It can't be me, I'm older than the young master for one," he explained, "And the young master doesn't think of me like that."

"And he thinks of me as a friend?" [Name] chose to ask.

Finny nodded.

"I can tell he thinks differently of you!"

The gardener beamed at them and they didn't want to crush whatever whimsy and joy this was giving him. They sighed and gave in, knowing they wouldn't hear the end of it otherwise, especially after Finny told Baldo and Mey-Rin about it.

"I'll try and see," they agreed.

[SEVERAL HOURS LATER]

At the end of the day, Sebastian asked [Name] to report to the young master directly about their supervision of Finny and the state of the estate's gardens. [Name] walked into the room and bowed to their lord, nodding to Sebastian a moment after.

"Good evening," they spoke, not making eye contact with either.

"Good evening, [Name]," Ciel greeted, taking a sip of his tea as he watched them, "I trust you kept Finny under control?"

[Name] nodded.

"Yes, he took care of replanting and weeding. There were no, ah, plant deaths," they explained in as succinct a way as they could, "We talked as we worked and completed everything Sebastian told us to."

They had to ignore the soft stifled laugh that came from Sebastian when they fumbled for a phrase and chose "plant deaths."

"I see, very good then."

He seemed pleased. The master was in a good mood? Hm. This might be their chance so they took it without hesitation.

"Master, if I may speak freely for a moment?" they asked him

Ciel raised an eyebrow but he nodded slowly after a moment of contemplation.

"You may but whatever about?"

[Name] felt bad for confusing him but it was somewhat refreshing to hear the master speak without that underlying darkness in his tone.

"Finny suggested something to me. I would like to try something," [Name] explained, hoping this wouldn't ruin whatever relationship they did have with the master.

"Something. Very specific," was Ciel's comment, "Go ahead."

Ciel seemed certain [Name] wouldn't hurt him and even if they tried, Sebastian would handle them swiftly like he always did.

"Ah, thank you for your permission... Ciel."

There was a silence that fell over the room as neither child spoke. Ciel was frozen in place, Sebastian seemed to be holding back another laugh, and [Name] was unsure if Finny's theory was true.

A faint hue of pink dusted Ciel's cheeks as he averted his gaze.

"Was," he began, "Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes," [Name] admitted, "I'm sorry, sir."

Ciel was silent once again and [Name] worried they really had crossed a line, but then he spoke again, softer this time.

"It isn't as though I care what you call me when there aren't guests around," he said, waving the hand that wore his family's crest, "Do as you like with the estate's image in mind... I suppose."

[Name] couldn't disguise the smile that took over their features.

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Sebastian Michaelis

To be quite frank, Sebastian thinks children are brats.

He didn't want another child around but it cannot be helped because [Name] is useful for the estate's security.

Despite not liking them at first, Sebastian is always "nice."

He is never without a polite smile, it's a bit unnerving.

As [Name]'s work proves proficient, he eases up.

They make fewer mistakes than the others.

Because of this, they are not so annoying to him.

"Child, you would do best not to hinder my work. But if you would like to lend me your help, you may."

He refers to [Name] more often as "child" or "littlest one."

He means they are the youngest of the servants.

He often lets [Name] off easy with punishment, similar to how he never scolds Tanaka the way he does with Baldo, Mey-Rin, Snake, and Finny.

Sebastian likes to make fun of [Name] and Ciel's similar ages.

He allows [Name] to sit in for Ciel's lessons at times.

In the end, Sebastian might be fond of the human.

Still, he won't say that kind of thing. What use would kind words be from someone like him? He doesn't much care for anyone.

He is bound to his master until the end of their contract.

That is all. Right?

"What in the world are you doing?" Sebastian asked as he came up to them, essentially appearing from thin air.

The young servant jumped at the sudden voice in the silence of the cellar and whipped around to face him, dropping their cleaning rag on the floor in the motion. Noting it was Sebastian, they let out a relieved sigh and bent down to pick up the rag.

"Sebastian! You startled me!" they told him, brows furrowed, "Why do you like to sneak up on me like that?"

Sebastian chuckled softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I don't mean to. Perhaps you are just easily scared, child?"

"I don't think so," they said softly before they moved to continue their task, "And, I'm not done with this task yet. Did you have something else for me to do?"

They couldn't believe they had more work to do now. That was always why Sebastian came to see them, to give them a task someone else had botched or enlist their help with something else entirely.

"I did," the butler told them, "I seem to require your help with a lesson for the young master."

[Name] paused.

"A lesson?" they asked him, giving a skeptical look though they tried their best to mask it, "Would I be expected to come with you now?"

They were unsure if he was telling the truth. Sebastian enjoyed messing with them, just a little. But it was enough to make [Name] wonder every time the butler told them much of anything. They wanted to go to the lesson, though. Learning was... fun.

Sebastian noticed the look, being a demon and all, but said nothing about it. Instead, he simply nodded and smiled at them as he always did to the guests the manor received.

"Indeed. I would need you to accompany me to the study."

They weighed their options. Sebastian was probably not lying.

"Alright," they agreed a moment later, "Do I need to finish this task first? You did give me a list of things to make certain of here."

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, that won't be necessary. I will take care of it."

They almost bowed to him but caught themself. It was hard to treat Sebastian as a butler when he held himself with as much pride as any man would. Still, the one time they had spoken too highly of him, the young master had gotten upset with them (and Sebastian too).

It had been an... ordeal.

"I see. Thank you, then," they told him curtly though they couldn't help but smile.

A lesson! How fun! They wanted to cheer but didn't.

Even if they were only cleaning the room to spectate, it was a chance to learn things. They would learn something and earl was learning! It seemed like a fairly good deal in [Name]'s opinion.

Too focused on rushing to put away their supplies and head toward Ciel's study, they did not see a softer expression adorn the butler's face as he watched them move past him.

Perhaps they would never know his true affection for his littlest one.

Imagine the rest yourself~

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a kuro-only blog! ^^

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tastefullyoffensive · 3 months ago

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35 Interesting Facts To Feed Your Inner Curiosity (January 30, 2025)

#Cool #Entertainment #Reddit

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aeth-eris · 6 months ago

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★ shadow work for each rising sign: navigating the transformative transits of 2025-2026 ★

☆ pluto into aquarius:

first entry: march 23, 2023 (retrograded back into capricorn in 2023)

re-enters aquarius: november 19, 2024

fully settles in aquarius: january 20, 2025

stays in aquarius until 2043, as pluto spends about 20 years in each sign.

☆ uranus into gemini:

first entry: july 7, 2025

retrogrades back into taurus: november 8, 2025

re-enters gemini and stays: april 26, 2026

stays in gemini until 2033, with uranus spending about 7 years in each sign.

☆ neptune into aries:

first entry: march 30, 2025

retrogrades back into pisces: october 22, 2025

re-enters aries and stays: january 26, 2026

stays in aries until 2039, as neptune spends approximately 13-14 years in each sign.

☆ saturn into aries:

first entry: may 24, 2025

retrogrades back into pisces: september 1, 2025

re-enters aries and stays: february 13, 2026

stays in aries until february 15, 2028, as saturn spends about 2.5 years in each sign.

★ aries rising ★ pluto’s move into aries rising’s 11th house of friendships and goals pushes them to face insecurities around group identity and social roles. shadow work here involves examining where they may have masked self-doubt with a bold presence, fearing they might fade into the background. they may discover a tendency to lead or assert control as a way to feel valued. meanwhile, neptune and saturn in the 1st house challenge them to question if their confident self-image hides deeper vulnerabilities, asking if they’ve built a facade to protect against rejection. addressing these dynamics will allow aries rising to embrace authenticity in both social groups and personal identity, finding strength in their true self instead of external validation. ☆ prompts: “where do i feel the need to ‘prove’ myself to others? how do i feel about the idea of taking a less prominent role in group settings? am i masking insecurity with confidence, and if so, where can i soften and allow my true self to be seen?”

★ taurus rising ★ pluto’s transit through taurus rising’s 10th house of career asks them to address attachments to public success and stability. shadow work involves exploring fears of failure, especially if they’ve tied self-worth to professional achievements or status. with uranus moving through the 2nd house of values and finances, taurus rising is also called to question if material wealth has become a substitute for inner security. they may uncover scarcity mindsets or a hidden fear of instability. by confronting these shadows, taurus rising can redefine their sense of success and security, focusing on inner values over external rewards and building a career path aligned with their true needs. ☆ prompts: “how does my career affect my sense of worth? where am i relying on material wealth for a sense of security? what do i fear losing if my career or financial situation changes? what would true inner security feel like for me?”

★ gemini rising ★ as pluto transforms gemini rising’s 9th house of beliefs, they’re called to re-evaluate core philosophies that may have limited their growth. shadow work involves confronting any fear of uncertainty or “not knowing” that could lead them to cling to rigid beliefs. uranus in the 1st house encourages self-reinvention, but they may hesitate to break free from familiar identities, fearing they’ll lose themselves. they’re invited to examine any habits of hiding emotions behind wit or intellect. by releasing these fears, gemini rising can embrace a fluid, open-minded approach to life that honors both their curiosity and evolving identity, allowing them to connect authentically with others. ☆ prompts: “what beliefs or ideas do i feel resistant to let go of? where do i avoid vulnerability by intellectualizing or using humor? who am i without my established ideas and perspectives? how would embracing change deepen my self-expression?”

★ cancer rising ★ pluto in cancer rising’s 8th house of intimacy and transformation encourages them to confront fears around vulnerability and dependence on others. shadow work involves addressing any control issues in relationships that may stem from fears of betrayal or emotional pain. with neptune and saturn in the 10th house, cancer rising is also asked to question whether their career choices reflect their true self or if they’ve sought “safe” paths to avoid risk. they may find they’ve neglected personal fulfillment for security. by embracing openness in relationships and honesty in career pursuits, cancer rising can create a life that aligns with their authentic self, balancing vulnerability with resilience. ☆ prompts: “how do i respond when i feel vulnerable in relationships? what control tendencies do i rely on to avoid emotional risk? am i compromising personal fulfillment for security in my career? what would true openness look like in both my relationships and career?”

★ leo rising ★ with pluto in leo rising’s 7th house of relationships, they’re invited to explore where their self-worth is intertwined with external approval. shadow work involves examining any patterns of people-pleasing or overcompromising due to hidden fears of rejection. uranus in the 11th house prompts them to shift their social dynamics and find fulfillment beyond admiration. neptune and saturn in the 9th house further challenge leo rising to question long-held beliefs that may have propped up their public image rather than supported authentic growth. by working through these dynamics, leo rising can develop relationships based on mutual respect and self-confidence, finding satisfaction beyond external validation. ☆ prompts: “where am i seeking approval in relationships and social circles? what beliefs about myself might i have formed around admiration or validation? what would it feel like to create connections based purely on mutual respect and authenticity? how can i affirm my self-worth without external reinforcement?”

★ virgo rising ★ pluto’s influence in virgo rising’s 6th house of work and health calls them to confront perfectionism and productivity-based self-worth. shadow work here involves examining any beliefs that their value is tied to their usefulness, revealing a fear of inadequacy. with uranus transiting the 10th house, they’re encouraged to redefine career goals and embrace innovative paths, shedding rigid ideals of success. they may uncover where they’ve sacrificed personal joy for others’ approval. by releasing control over outcomes, virgo rising can foster a healthier relationship with work, recognizing that self-worth isn’t defined by accomplishment, and embracing balance over perfection. ☆ prompts: “in what areas of my life do i feel driven by the need to be ‘perfect’? how does being useful contribute to my sense of worth? what would embracing imperfection allow me to experience in my daily life? where am i putting others’ needs before my own joy, and how can i shift this?”

★ libra rising ★ pluto’s energy in libra rising’s 5th house of creativity and romance brings up insecurities around self-expression, inviting them to confront fears of rejection or failure in love and creativity. shadow work involves exploring where they’ve stifled individuality to gain admiration. with neptune and saturn transiting the 7th house of relationships, libra rising is also asked to address dependency patterns, particularly where they’ve put their own needs aside to maintain peace. they’ll need to confront any fear of being alone, understanding that harmony begins with self-acceptance. through this process, libra rising can cultivate self-worth, finding freedom to express their true self in love and creativity. ☆ prompts: “where have i held back my true self in creative or romantic expressions? what am i afraid others will see if i show my full self? how do i compromise my needs to keep the peace, and what would happen if i didn’t? how can i practice self-acceptance in relationships, so my needs are honored?”

★ scorpio rising ★ with pluto in scorpio rising’s 4th house of home and family, they’re prompted to confront emotional security and past patterns that may limit intimacy. shadow work involves addressing fears of vulnerability and abandonment, particularly where family dynamics may have shaped emotional defense mechanisms. with uranus in the 8th house of intimacy, they’ll feel challenged to release control issues that limit trust, uncovering fears of betrayal. this period encourages scorpio rising to establish security within, understanding that true strength comes from embracing emotions fully. by confronting these fears, they can build a foundation rooted in openness and trust, fostering deeper connections and self-acceptance. ☆ prompts: “what fears come up when i consider being vulnerable with those close to me? how have family dynamics influenced my current relationships? where do i exert control in intimate situations out of fear of betrayal? what would building security within myself, rather than relying on external stability, look like?”

★ sagittarius rising ★ sagittarius rising’s 3rd house of communication is transformed by pluto, pushing them to address insecurities around self-expression and social dynamics. shadow work here involves examining fears of judgment or appearing vulnerable, which may lead to overconfidence or projecting a confident facade. with neptune and saturn in the 5th house, they’re also encouraged to explore where they’ve avoided commitment or depth in relationships, fearing vulnerability. they may realize escapist habits have kept them from genuine connections. by embracing authenticity and communicating openly, sagittarius rising can cultivate deeper bonds, finding self-worth beyond surface interactions and discovering the joy of meaningful connections. ☆ prompts: “where do i hold back in conversations to avoid vulnerability? how do i use confidence as a shield against deeper connection? what would it look like to truly engage in depth with those i care about? where have i avoided commitment in relationships, and how has this limited my sense of connection?”

★ capricorn rising ★ pluto’s shift into capricorn rising’s 2nd house of values and finances invites them to confront deep-seated fears around scarcity and self-worth, especially where they’ve linked value to financial stability. shadow work involves addressing attachments to success and control, particularly if they equate worth with income or status. uranus’s influence in the 6th house challenges them to release rigid routines and embrace a more balanced approach to work. by confronting fears that tie self-worth to external achievements, capricorn rising can embrace a sense of value that transcends professional image, fostering a life that prioritizes both accomplishment and inner peace. ☆ prompts: “where have i connected my self-worth to my financial or career success? what beliefs do i hold about success and control, and how have they shaped my life choices? how would my daily life change if i released my need for financial validation? what does a balanced approach to work and self-care look like for me?”

★ aquarius rising ★ with pluto in aquarius rising’s 1st house, they face intense transformation of self-identity, urging them to confront fears around authenticity. shadow work involves addressing any fear of rejection or being “too different,” particularly where they’ve suppressed their individuality to fit in. with uranus in their 5th house, they’re encouraged to embrace creative and romantic vulnerability, examining where detachment may have limited expression. by releasing the need for external validation, aquarius rising can redefine self on their own terms, embracing uniqueness and developing deeper, more honest connections. ☆ prompts: “where do i feel the need to conform to be accepted? what parts of myself do i hold back in creative or romantic settings? how would it feel to let my unique qualities shine without fear of judgment? where am i relying on external validation for a sense of belonging?”

★ pisces rising ★ pluto’s move into pisces rising’s 12th house of the subconscious triggers a period of deep introspection, highlighting hidden fears and self-sabotaging tendencies. shadow work here involves facing unresolved pain or traumas that may have led to escapism or martyrdom. neptune and saturn in the 2nd house of values prompt them to re-evaluate self-worth, particularly where they’ve linked it to spiritual ideals or self-sacrifice. by addressing these patterns, pisces rising can establish a healthier foundation for self-worth, discovering inner strength and grounding their spirituality in reality. ☆ prompts: “what fears or past pain am i avoiding by disconnecting from reality? where do i overextend myself, sacrificing my needs for others? how have i equated worth with self-sacrifice, and how can i separate these? what would grounded self-worth look like in my daily life?”

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology transits #astrology shadow work

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kenzies-love-stories · 3 months ago

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Oh COME ON Bella! pt2 rewrite (Felix Volturi X Swan Fem Reader)

A/N: Well, hello it's been too long, I'm going to be completely honest with you guys I have not been making my writing a priority as I should be. I have been learning how to balance my time working full time at a cooperation job is hard, I feel like I never have time for myself but i am learning how to make the time. I don't know how many people are still invested but here the rewrite for part 2.~Kenzie

pairing: Felix volturi X fem Swan reader

Type/ warnings: M for mature

Word count:3,355

Date posted: January 30 2025

Six long tortuous months have gone and passed since I was dragged to Volterra Italy where I met him, Felix, the man who has so effortlessly caught my attention. He feels so close yet so far out of my reach. The only reasons I know that he is actually real is because of the leather book which is on the nightstand by my bed as well as the memory that plays on repeat every night while I sleep.

I find myself more often than not longing for the feeling of comfort that his cold embrace manages to bring to my warm body. I have yet to hear from him but he promised, so I am not going to lose hope so easily. Though I do miss him every day even though I don’t know him very well at all. I am guessing it is the bond.

Today Jasper has dragged Bella and I to the Cullens house after school to work on their Spanish project that is due the following week while I sit on the couch next to Rosealie, she is probably my favorite Cullen as she is unapologetically honest with me. Which I very much appreciate as everyone else isn’t as straight forward as Rosalie.

I see an angry Edward storm into the room with a panicked Alice hot on his heels, “Edward you don’t have the right to do this, it’s not your place. If you follow through with this it is not going to end well for anybody involved.” Alice sped infront of Edward to stop him.

“I am doing this to protect her.” He seethes looking down at alice callously

“Since when have you ever cared about her safety. Trust me Eds you are going to do more harm than good.” Alice grabs the envelope out of his hands as this comment shocks Edward. "STAY OUT OF IT!" she adds loudly.

“Y/n/n this came in the mail for you from a very special someone.” Alice says and passes me the envelope, while wiggling her eyebrows at me playfully.

“Thank you!” I exclaim with a big smile taking it from her hand gently. I let out a barely audible giggle as I run my fingers over the fancy cursive writing that adores the front that reads y/n Swan with the Cullens address. I gently turn it around and admire the red volturi wax seal. After a second I pull open the wax seal then i pull out the parchment and allow my eyes to run over the words.

‘To my dearest little dove, I am happy to inform you that I finally managed to get my hands on a phone, that I have yet to accidently break. It took me longer than expected as I kept on crushing them on accident. I put my number at the bottom. Don't tell anyone about this but Aro is planning on sending us to Seattle for a mission soon. I can't say when but afterwards I’ll sneak away to come and see you. it shouldn't be too difficult to do. With much love Felix aka your giant.’

With a smile I feel the envelope is still slightly heavy, with curiosity I look in the envelope. I see a very dainty looking necklace. I gingerly lift it out and into my hand, it is a small yet perfect diamond. ‘A diamond for you to sparkle in the sunlight as I do.’ I let out a slight gasp after I read the note, I very carefully put the necklace on. Once it falls into place my chest swells with love and pride.

I pull out my phone and program his number under the name 'Gental Giant'. I send him a picture of me with the necklace on as well as a message ‘it’s gorgeous Fe, I love it very much Thank you.’

A few hours later on at home I hear my phone ping. I check it with a grin. It is a message from Felix, ‘I am glad you love it, I'll come find you next week to visit.’ i read while smiling wide

With a blush that he can’t see I type out ‘can’t wait giant’

I lay down for the evening as i have school in the morning.

I am soon lulled in to a deep slumber dreaming of the tall giant that has started to plague my every dream...in the best way possible of course. In this particular dream I can see him and I cuddled up on the same couch that is in his room in the corner by the fireplace as he reads out loud to me. One of his big cold hands turns the page while the other is placed on my knee, gently resting there covering it completely.

*One week passes by*

The day after I received the letter from Felix, I worked on getting him one in the mail in return. I decided to make him a bracelet out of some black cord, as well as write him a letter in return. I made sure that it got in the mail the same day. I went ahead and put two extra stamps on the envelope even though I don’t think it makes all the difference. I do hope that he got it and that it didn’t get lost in the mail on the way to Volterra. I find myself absent mindedly studying for my upcoming history test.

I am situated in the living room with music playing softly in the background. My therapy has been up for some time now and I have been doing much better overall. It was finally deemed safe for me to be by myself, So I am home by myself. Bella is either at the Cullens or with Jake at Emily’s house. Whist Charlie is at Billy Blacks watching the late-night baseball game. I am brought out of my deep trance by a crash and cursing from my room upstairs. Quietly and full of nerves with my heart racing I grab my pepper spray tiptoeing my way up the stairs avoiding the creaky stair boards. I silently enter my room, heart beating out of my chest, my finger on the trigger of my pepper spray ready to fire. When I see a very much so familiar giant that I have been missing, my body starts to relax.

Throwing my pepper spray somewhere off to the side, I excitedly exclaim, “Felix! Please tell me you are really here in front of me!”

“Yes, dove it is really me.” He reassures me and pulls me into his cold yet very comforting embrace, “Oh how I missed you.” he slightly breaths in my scent as I nuzzle my face into his strong cold chest.

“I missed you to Fe so much. I have a question; so I am in the middle of studying, would you mind helping me study for my history test please?” I ask slightly pulling myself from his embrace to get a good look at his perfect face.

“What time period Kiddo?” he jests as I lead him down the stairs by his hand.

“Kiddo really!?!” I exclaim "It is the 16th Century" I reply handing him my notes and textbook.

He asks me a random question and I answer confidently as I know it is the right answer. I see him furrow his eyebrows, “Dove I'm sorry but that’s not right at all.”

“Yes, it is Fe, it is in the textbook.” I state the obvious.

“Is that really what they wrote! That is totally not how this happened I was there.” He laughs a bit in shock

“Well, that is what they are teaching me. Glad to see that they are lying” I state and grab the textbook out of his outstretched hand, I freeze when I look down at his wrist.

I grab his and gently pull it towards me running my thumb across this cord with adoration, “you’re wearing it.”

“of course, Dove, I love it; I have not taken it off since I got it and I don’t plan to anytime soon.” he responds softly

“Thank you! I only take my necklace off when I sleep.” I state with a small smile.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiles "So what do we want to do now?" he asks looking at me.

"Hmm We can watch..." I am cut off by another body speeding down the stairs halting in front of us. “Fe we got to go now.”

I start to panic when I notice it is just Demetri his friend and fellow guard.

“Okay Dem I will be right out.” Felix states defeated as our time is cut short, yet again.

“Oh, and nice to see you again y/n,” Demetri smiles at me.

“Nice to see you too Demetri.” I smile politely back at him, a little sad my mate has to go so soon.

“Alright My Love sadly I got to go. I promise I will message you as soon as I can.” he says pulling me up into a hug he kisses my forehead as he starts to pull away, I squeeze him tighter to my chest, my face in his neck by his ear, “Stay safe please Felix, I need you around.” I softly plea into his ear. He puts me down and we walk upstairs to my room.

“I’ll do my best,” I hear him say as I watch him disappear from in front of me and out of my window.

I sigh with a newfound heartache deep in my chest, it feels like a hole is there. I sniffle as I walk downstairs to collect my things, I am done studying for the night. I am too upset to retain any information tonight anyway. It was good to see him, and I am happy that I got to spend time with him even for a short bit.

I pause when I see a familiar black cloak, slightly gasping I gingerly reach out and bring it to my chest, hugging it tightly. I find myself breathing in his scent, it smells a bit like cedar and is slightly musky with a very small hint of citrus. This oddly brings me more comfort than anything with lavender ever could or ever would again. Felix has ruined lavender for me and I am very okay with it. I gather my study supplies and pack them up into my backpack for easy transport. I grab the cloak and I rush back to my bedroom.

I put the cloak on my bed while I put my school bag aside for the school day tomorrow. I then take off my shoes and quickly get into pajamas. Soon enough I lay down on my side and bring the cloak of comfort over one of shoulders, like a blanket. I can freely breath in the comforting scent radiating off the fabric. I allow myself to reach the deep state of relaxation and in minutes I am out for the night. I am not sure if he left it behind on purpose or not but I am glad he did.

I only keep his cloak for two weeks as the scent of him is starting to fade. It still brings me the comfort, but it now smells like me, and I know he needs it back. Another week goes by, and I make sure to send Felix back his cloak that he left here as well as a sweet little letter. I am not sure if it was on purpose or accident. However, I am guilty of waiting until it no longer smelt of him, instead I sent it back smelling like me, I hope it may bring him the same comfort it brought me during our time of separation.

Now I am having trouble sleeping at night without the familiar smell of absolute comfort as well as the weight of his cloak. That brings us to where we are now; in a Seattle Walmart smelling the wax melts and candles with Alice trying to find one that is close enough to invoke the same comforting feeling.

I carefully grab a box of brown wax melts and gently pull open the corner to smell. The strong scent makes my face pucker in disgust, this one, smells strongly of male musk and palo santo. Nothing like my Felix," Nope!" I say and put it back on the shelf. I smell my coffee grounds and continue my search. Alice bounces off to the other side of the isle.

A small box of blue wax melts catches my eye. I read the notes on this one softly to myself, "Cedar and sea salt." I don't think it'll be this one but I grab it and gently pull the corner open to get a small whiff. Closing my eyes I breathe in softly, it's almost right but the sea salt throws it off for me, it makes it kind of smell like a sweaty man.

I am starting to lose hope in my search but while I am here I decided to get a few candles for the house. I grab a fresh linen and a pumpkin spice candle then start off in the direction of Alice.

"Alice I only managed to find sweaty males and fruity deserts." I state in defeat, "do you need anything else while we are here, I give up."

"Just let me check in one spot, there is a clearance pile over by the five dollar movie bin." She states taking off at a human's pace. I head over to the five-dollar movie bin as I have given up. I start to filter through the movies when Alice comes running at a human pace towards me, “Y/n/n what about this one, it is called Illusion, there is cedar, musk, and whatever the mystery smell is.”

"I will give it a try Alice but I have lost hope." I state before she starts to hand me the package.

I gently take the package from Alice and gently pop open the corner feeling somewhat hopeful I bring the package to my nose and gently breathe in. The smell is very strong, but it is close enough to Felix that in a tired haze it would do the trick. Happily nodding at Alice, “Alice this is almost exact. Is there more than one?”

I close the small box and start to make my way through the isle with Alice, “Sadly that is the very last one here but at least now you know which one it is, we can order you more from online."

We walk to the self-checkout as I muse, “you’re right Alice! Thank you very much for helping me I appreciate it, you are such a great friend." I muse while I scan and pay for our items and we exit the store.

“You are more than welcome, Y/n i am happy to help." she smiles as she gets into her car.

“Hey Alice, please don’t mention this to anyone, it is kind of embarrassing.” I look down at my hands that are folded in my lap. "I know Bella would view this as childish and I don't want to be made fun of." I state quietly.

“Of course, Y/n/n you have my word. You should not feel embarrassed about missing Felix though. It is not your fault that you two have to be separated at the moment. It is not forever even though it may feel like it. Believe me when I say this though, Felix is just as affected by this as you are, if not more so.” Alice states while keeping her golden eyes on the freeway. That is one thing no one tells you about vampires, they love to drive fast as it causes an adrenaline rush, I have learned to grow more comfortable with the speeding.

“You really think so.” I ask in a hopeful tone, not because I want Felix to hurt but it hurts a little less knowing that we are both hurting together.

“I know so y/n/n.” she says with a smile, “Don’t let Edward or Bella try to convince you any different. If he says anything to you about this, tell me okay. I’ll have Emmett and Jasper rough him up for you. He shouldn't have anything to say he just needs to let you be happy.”

I am thinking of my response when Alice beats me to it, "Now enough of the heavy, let's listen to some music." I see her cold dainty hand reach over and turn the volume dial up on the radio.

The rest of the ride is filled with laughter, off key singing, and crazy dancing on the way back to Charlie’s house. When she pulls up out front it is four fifty-eight, I have two whole minutes to spare. “Thank you again Alice, for everything,”

“You are most welcome y/n/n, tell Charlie I said hi,” Alice smiles and pulls me over the center console in to a tight embrace (not too tight though).

“Of course, Drive safe Alice.” I state knowing that she is going to drive recklessly now that I am no longer in the car.

I close the car door and walk inside after I hear her say ‘always' I make my way inside to put away my candles and to burn my wax in my wax wamer that is in my bedroom.

Felix’s POV

I have been back in Volterra for a little over a week now. The sharp pain in my chest has only grown stronger each day that passes without her. I miss my little human, more than I could have ever thought possible. I have tried to distract myself with working extra hours and picking up extra missions but it never works. I come to realize that this distance thing is going to be a lot harder to handle then I first thought. I have somehow misplaced my last cloak between the constant missions. I unlatch my new cloak and place it over the couch in my room. I then exit to hunt down where Demetri is hiding away at.

I see him walking down towards the library with Heidi, fixing my bracelet I speed over to them before they can get too far.

“Hey Fe, Gianna the new girl is looking for you, you have mail.” Dem teasingly states.

With a smile I start to turn away with a smile to make my way to the front desk, “Thank you Dem, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

I don’t wait for a reply, I instead speed down the stairs stopping in front of Gianna's desk. “Hey, Gianna Demetri told me that you have mail for me.”

“Yes, from forks.” she states in broken English handing me a box.

“Grazie.” I state and take the box in confusion, I was expecting a letter from y/n.

She nods as I walk off to my room looking at the box, I see the familiar semi messy writing that I have grown to love. With a smile I put the box down on the table and gently open it. There is a note on red paper that is on top of something wrapped in tissue paper. I pick up the note to read it more closely, ‘Fe, I hope this brings you the same comfort it brought me, love little Dove.”

Curiously I put the note down and open the tissue paper, I am hit by the strong scent of my mate, with a smile I pull out, my cloak? I put it on with a laugh, I must have forgotten it at her house that night. Her scent surrounds me and the pain in my chest subsides just a little bit. She must have been wearing it at night as her scent is imprinted in to the fabric. I smile at the image of her cuddled on her bed, her small frame drowning in my cloak. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I first thought, It’s going to suck but it is going to be manageable…for now.

Taglist: @j-u-hs-world @ellatitanium @melinsk1 @trainboom @trashy-panda777 @small-town-wayward-daughter @venusdelaroix

@kezibear143 @smithmallory13 @im-as-mad-as-a-wax-bananna

@sunsetswurve @believinghurts @xcastawayherosx @iloveslasher

@yikeskatz @ssa-holmes @artaxerxesthegreat @jenfox25 @lacychick @smileykiddie08 @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx

#twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #volturi imagine #felix volturi imagine #felix x reader #felix volturi x reader #felix volturi imagines

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leafcreature · 3 months ago

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🍂 The Ever-changing Cabinet 🏺

Here are the results of the first Curiosity January, hoping there will be more to come!

Challenge completed with 17 stamps and infinite possibilities of variation! I love the representation of cusiosity cabinets as places packed with little secrets and stories to be discovered from an new perspective each time. Which is why I’m very pleased with the modular aspect of this print. So many different versions can be made by moving the blocks around, which makes the printing process a lot more playful. I’m always excited to create new arrangements!

⏳ Prints will be coming to my website later this month ⏳

#curiosity january 2025 #illustration #my art #linogravure #printmaking #art challenge #outer wilds #curiosity cabinet #oddities #outer wilds art #vintage inspired #antique aesthetic #memento mori #bizarre art #small creator

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noseysilverfox · 3 months ago

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January 2025

Where I come from, there are no rocks in the forests. That’s why cliffs in the woods spark genuine curiosity and there’s an irresistible urge to touch them. There’s nothing I can do about it🤍😸

Там, откуда я родом, нет камней в лесах. Поэтому скалы в лесу вызывают неподдельный интерес и непреодолимое желание прикоснуться. Ничего с этим поделать не могу🤍😸

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slmckle · 2 months ago

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CHARLIE CONFESSING ON VALENTINE’S DAY

warnings: none? fluff, fem!reader kinda implied?

———— DECEMBER 11TH, 2024. ————

you worked at the game store, and charlie was a regular. you were fairly new, so when charlie saw you, he knew you weren’t there before.

he walked around the store, grabbing the essentials for his d&d game, or whatever, and he walks up to the counter. he places his items on the counter and smiled at you.

"hi! you're new!" he says with clear excitement. you look at him and return the energy, just trying to be friendly.

"i am! hi!" you say, grabbing his items and scanning them. he looks at you, eager to start a conversation. "so.. how do you like it so far?"

you sigh and purse your lips. "eh, its alright. its a job, thats for sure!"

he frowns slightly and tilts his head a bit. “ah, that’s no good!” he says.

you finish scanning his items and tell him his total, leaning over the counter a bit. “your total is 23.75 today, sir. will that be cash, or card?” you ask.

he answers with card, and pulls out a basic card. “you can just put it in the scanner there.” you say.

he does as told, and you say your goodbyes. “he was kinda cute.” your coworker, sam, says. he was also new, so he’d never seen him either.

“oh my god, shut up, sam!” you say, rolling your eyes before disappearing into the back of the store.

———— JANUARY 13TH, 2025. ————

charlie had came in the store many times since then, and you guys had gotten to know each other. you had exchanged numbers, and hung out a few times. you would consider him one of your closest friends, as would he. you had slowly developed a tiny crush on him, but would never admit it to anyone.

you don’t see him walking into the store, but the ring of the bell that was hung above the door let you know someone was there.

you finish stocking the shelf you were working on, and turn around. you smile when you see charlie and you walk over to the counter to assist him.

“hi, charlie! what can i do for you today?” you ask nicely. he smiles and speaks. “well, i was wondering when you got off, and if you wanted to hangout.” you smile and lean on the glass counter.

“i get off in about thirty minutes, if you wanna wait until then.” you say, looking at him and admiring the way he leans on the counter as well, almost mirroring you.

“yeah, i can wait!” he nods, leaning off of the counter and drumming his fingers on the glass. you push off the counter and walk back over to the shelves, making sure everything was in order.

you bend down to straighten out one of the cane cases that some grimey little kid probably messed up, but you swear you can feel a set of eyes on you…

FEBRUARY 14TH, 2025. VALENTINE’S DAY!

time skip, about a month later, and it was valentine’s day. you and charlie have gone on a few more hangouts dates , but he hasn’t asked you yet.

you’re sitting behind the counter and the game store, daydreaming when you hear the bell from the door signaling that someone has walked it. but this time, it’s charlie!

a grin spreads across charlie's face as he spots you behind the counter, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sight of you. he approaches the counter, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably as excitement bubbles over.

"heyyyyyyy." he says, leaning against the counter with a wide smile.

"hiii, charlie!" you say with a smile, tilting your head as you look at him.

his grin widens even more at the sound of you saying his name, his heart fluttering once again. he leans forwards, his eyes twinkling as he gazes at you.

"you have no idea how good it is to see you right now." he says. "oh yeah? whys that?" you ask, curiosity evident in your voice.

he taps his fingers against the countertop, his smile turning into a mischievous grin. "well, maybe because you're my best friend."

he pauses for a moment, studying your expression.

"and also because I have a very important question to ask you." he says, sitting up from the counter and brushing off his shirt and straightening his glasses.

"well, what is soooo important?" you tease, also sitting up from the counter, not missing the way his hands look while he straightens his glasses.

he takes another step forward, peering over the edge of the counter to get a better look at you.

"todays valentine's day, right?" he asks.

"mhm!" you say, trying to not sound too excited at the fact he might finally be asking you. 'but what if he asks me for advice for another girl..? no, he wouldnt do that.' you say in your head, ignoring the thoughts and focusing more on the conversation at hand.

he leans even closer, his heart racing in his chest.

"well…what are your plans for after work?"

he tries to make his question sound as casual as possible, although inside he's practically exploding with nerves.

“hmm, i don’t think i have anything planned, why?” you say, tapping your chin and looking up, trying not to smile as you act all oblivious.

he lets out a small sigh of relief at your response, his heart still thumping way too fast for his own liking. though he cant help but smile at your little act.

"good. that's um…"

he pauses, trying to form the words in his head.

"that's good. because I was wondering…if you maybe want to…go out? On a date? For Valentine's Day?" he asks nervously, and probably too fast.

"oh yeah? why should i?" you ask, grinning.

a cheeky smile appears on his face, loving the way you banter.

"well, let's see…"

he pretends to think for a moment, scratching his chin before listing on his fingers.

"because I'm charming, and i’ve also got some chocolate and flowers in my car. does that sweeten the deal, sweetheart?”

"hmmm.. i suppose it does!' you say with a smile, your eyes sparkling and catching charlie slightly off guard. he clears his throat and gains some composure before speaking, his heart feeling like it's going to burst with how excited he is right now.

"great."

he glances around the store, noticing a couple of lingering customers nearby. he lowers his voice.

"can I tell you something?" he whispers. "hm?" you ask curiously, lowering your vouce to match his.

he leans in close, so only you can hear him, his voice dropping low and quiet, tinged with excitement and a hint of nervousness.

"i've actually got one other surprise for you…" he says.

you look at him, your face lighting up as you question him. "really? what is it?"

he glances around once more, making sure no one is listening in on their conversation. once he’s assured the coast is clear, he turns back to you, a devilish grin on his face.

"you're going to have to come outside to see it, though. it's in my trunk."

"hmm, ill bite." you say, walking out from around the counter to meet him.

He lets out a soft chuckle at your response, his grin widening.

"awesome."

he steps back towards the store exit, holding the door open for you.

"ladies first."

he watches you pass him, his heart fluttering as he takes in the curve of your hips in the jeans that you’re wearing. he has to mentally remind himself to breathe as he follows you outside, the crisp air sending a shiver down his spine.

he leads you over to his car, parked out on the far side of the parking lot. he fishes the keys out of his pocket and unlocks the trunk, before motioning you forwards with a wave of his hand.

"come on, close your eyes."

he watches you as you close your eyes, your expression a mixture of curiosity and excitement. he can see the way your cheeks are flushed with anticipation, and he can't help but think it's one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen. he opens the trunk, removing a small bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, placing them off to the side before carefully removing a small, wrapped box from beneath a neatly folded blanket and placed it on top.

he makes sure everythings in place before walking over to you, grabbing your hands of of your eyes softly.

"okay, you can open your eyes now." he watches you open your eyes, a hint of nervousness creeping up on him. he’s biting his lip, hoping you’ll like the surprise he’s got for you, because he’s been thinking about it for a while now, almost a little shy to see your reaction.

“charlie…” you gasp, looking into his trunk, seeing the chocolate and roses, the small wrapped box, a small purple stuffed frog, and a bunch of little trinkets he hoped youd like.

he stands back, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you look over the trinkets he's carefully picked out, his cheeks becoming warm with nervousness. every little gasp and look of wonder that appears on your face makes his heart skip a beat, and he can't help but be a little shy as you inspect the necklace. He rubs the back of his neck, a little sheepish.

"i, um.. i thought you might like some of these things…"

he watches as you pick up the stuffed animal, a small purple frog with large sparkly eyes. he remembers picking it out specifically because he thought the color would look nice against your hair, and the eyes reminded him of yours.

“oh, charlie..” you gasped, looking over all the trinkets that just scream ‘you.’

a shy, lopsided grin appears on his face as you hold up the little frog stuffed animal, the sight of you admiring it making his heart flutter. he rubs the back of his neck again, feeling butterflies in his stomach as he watches you look over the things he got for you.

"i um, i really hope you like it…"

“i love it… this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me..”

his cheeks turn a deep shade of pink at your words, his heart skipping a beat as joy floods through his veins. he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed, but also incredibly happy that he managed to impress you. he takes a step closer, his gaze fixed on yours.

"you really like it? i, um, i was kind of nervous about picking stuff out for you. i wanted to get things that you would actually enjoy. and i remembered you saying you liked some of this stuff, so i got it.."

“oh, i’m gonna cherish her for the rest of my life.” you say, admiring the purple frog.

a warm, genuine smile spreads across his face as he hears your words. the way you speak about the little stuffed animal with such love and affection makes his heart flutter, and he almost forgets about the necklace he got you.

he remembers the necklace, and exclaims quietly. he grabs the small, wrapped box and hands it to you. you smile and take the box, shaking your head as you look up at him. "charlie, you really didn't have to..!" you protest lightheartedly, still beginning to open the box as he watches you.

"i wanted to, baby." he says, the pet name rolling off his tongue smoothly as he watches you open the box.

you open it to reveal the most gorgeous necklace youve ever seen. its a silver chain, that has a diamond in the middle of it, that would hang down on your chest.

you feel your cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes as you admire the necklace. you look up at him, mouth agape. hes got a small smile on his face, cheeks red as well.

"do you like it...?" he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets nervously.

"i love it, charlie..." you say, taking the necklace out of the box and looking at him, holding it infront of him.

“put it on me?” you ask. he nods and takes the necklace from you as you turn around and pull your hair up.

he drapes the necklace over your chest, and clasps it in the back, letting his fingers softly trace over your skin, sending goosebumps down your arm.

you turn around to look at him, smiling as the necklace sparkles on your chest. before he could say anything, your arms were wrapped around his torso.

he’s a little surprised as your arms wrap around him, but he instantly melts into your touch, his heart practically skipping a beat. he wraps his arms around you in return, pulling you close to him, holding you tightly. he buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, the scent of your shampoo and perfume making his head spin. he lets out a soft sigh of contentment, his body relaxing as he relishes the feeling of having you so close to him. it feels so right.

"sooo, are you gonna ask me the question?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at him. he quirks an eyebrow, smirking at your question. "what exactly am i asking you?" he teases.

"dont play stupid, charlie." you warn. he chuckles and looks into your eyes. "will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, looking at you sincerely.

you hum before answering, your chest feeling warm. "of course, charlie." you say.

he doesn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence. the moment your words leave your mouth, he leans in and kisses you. his touch is soft and tender, his lips gently pressed against yours.

there’s a slight tremor in his hand, his fingers trembling against your face. he’s so damn thankful and lucky to have you right now.

he kisses you gently, his lips moving softly and slowly against yours. he can’t help but moan softly against your mouth, the sound a subtle expression of how much he’s been wanting to do this.

his fingers are still tracing your jawline, his touch trembling ever so slightly, but he’s suddenly very aware of how perfect it feels to kiss you, and he’s suddenly very aware that this isn’t going to be one, single kiss.

his other hand rests on your hip, his touch firm and steady, pulling you even closer to him, like he can’t get enough of your closeness. he breaks the kiss for barely a second before his lips are back on yours, more insistent this time, his other hand moving to your face, cupping your cheek as he kisses you again, and again, and again… over and over..

"hhmph- charlie!" you protest playfully, softly smacking his arm. he laughs softly at your protests, puling away to admire your face. "what?"

"i cant breathe!" "so?" "charlie!"

the end! blahhhhhh. my first time writing charlie hope u enjoyed ily

#charlie slmccl #charlie slimesicle x reader #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #charlie slimecicile #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #slimecicle x reader #fluff #valentines day #happy valentines #ted nivison #jschlatt

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kathlare · 3 months ago

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a gift for both

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie take on a luxurious shopping spree in Monaco, where they navigate the glamorous streets and boutiques. While Lando plays the role of the supportive boyfriend, carrying bags and offering his opinions, Amelie’s playful and confident energy shines through, leading to some lighthearted moments and a few surprises.

Wordcount: 3.3 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

January 8th, 2025 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

As Lando and Amelie strolled down the glamorous streets of Monaco, the air was crisp, the city’s charm shining in the early afternoon sunlight. The familiar blend of luxury shops, sleek cars, and flashing camera lights greeted them as they walked hand in hand, the couple enjoying the quiet hum of the world around them.

It had been a few days since their return from Los Angeles, but Monaco’s timeless elegance had a way of making everything feel like home. Today, Amelie had dragged Lando on a shopping spree. It wasn’t exactly a hardship for him, but the idea of being her personal assistant—carrying bags, offering opinions, and helping her pick out clothes—wasn’t something he’d ever shy away from, especially when the reward was seeing her smile.

Lando, with his casual British charm, carried her designer purse slung over his shoulder, the weight of it nothing compared to the joy of being near her. Amelie, on the other hand, was dressed in a fitted black leather jacket, her signature style, with a pair of oversized sunglasses perched atop her head. She looked effortlessly chic as she bounced from store to store, her playful energy radiating from her.

As they walked into the first boutique, a trendy, high-end fashion store that was one of Amelie’s favorites in Monaco, Lando caught the gaze of a few passersby who recognized the couple immediately. A few whispered excitedly, and the flash of a camera snapped in the distance. He didn't mind. He’d gotten used to it by now—the attention, the curiosity of fans and photographers. But every time, he always made sure to keep Amelie close, offering her a smile as she playfully waved to the fans who called her name.

—You know, I think they’re taking more photos of you than me,— Lando joked, glancing back at Amelie as they stepped inside the boutique.

Amelie, however, wasn’t quite as at ease with the spotlight. As the cameras clicked and flashes went off from a distance, she instinctively shrank back, pulling her sunglasses lower to shield her eyes from the attention. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself, and the constant stares and photos were something she’d never fully gotten comfortable with, despite being in the public eye for years.

Lando noticed immediately. He slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her gently into his side, offering her the quiet comfort of his presence.

—Don’t worry, Ames, I’ve got you,— he murmured, his voice low and reassuring.

She glanced up at him, her lips curling into a grateful but tired smile. —I know. It’s just… It’s always a bit much, you know?—

—Yeah, I get it,— Lando replied, his thumb rubbing over the small of her back. —But you’re stunning. Let them take their photos. You deserve to be seen.—

Amelie chuckled softly, shaking her head. —You’re too sweet, Lan. But let’s get inside before they all mob us, yeah?—

—After you, love,— he said, opening the door to the boutique and letting her step through first.

Inside, the air was cool and smelled of expensive perfumes, and the soft hum of music played in the background. The space was filled with high-end clothing and accessories that made Amelie’s eyes sparkle with excitement. Lando followed her around, picking up bags, chatting with the staff, and offering his opinions on the outfits she tried on.

Amelie knew Lando was playing the perfect boyfriend role, but she loved every second of it. He always made sure she felt special, and he did it in such a laid-back, natural way that it never felt forced.

As Amelie browsed through racks of clothes, Lando leaned against a display, his gaze fixed on her as she sifted through fabric and colors, clearly in her element. His eyes softened whenever she glanced at him, her smile lighting up the entire room. There was something about her confidence that always took him by surprise. She had a way of owning every room she stepped into, whether it was with her undeniable beauty or the sheer presence she carried.

She held up a shimmering black dress, the kind of piece that would turn heads in any room, and looked back at him. —What do you think, Lan?—

He grinned, pushing off the display to walk over. —You could wear a garbage bag and still look incredible, but that one… I think it’ll melt everyone’s faces off. Try it on.—

Amelie chuckled, tossing it into her shopping pile before slipping into the changing room. As she disappeared behind the curtain, Lando casually glanced around, picking up her purse from the counter and adjusting it over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the bags he was already carrying. It was second nature now—he’d be the one to spoil her, to carry whatever she needed, and to make sure she had everything she wanted.

—Fuck me, you look unreal,— he muttered under his breath, before quickly adding, —Not that I didn’t already know that, obviously.—

She smirked, enjoying his reaction. —You like it?—

After a few more rounds of trying on dresses and collecting a small fortune in shopping bags, Amelie suddenly tugged on Lando’s hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

—Come on, lover boy. One more stop, and I promise it’ll be worth it.—

Lando raised a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. —Worth it? Ames, I’ve been your personal assistant all day. How much more worth it can it get?—

Amelie just grinned, pulling him down the cobblestone street with a bounce in her step. —Trust me. You’ll thank me later.—

When they stopped in front of an elegant lingerie boutique, Lando’s teasing smirk faltered for a second, replaced by a flicker of surprise—and interest. The store’s window was tastefully arranged, with soft lace and silk pieces displayed on mannequins.

—Oh,— he said, his voice suddenly lower, his eyes trailing over the storefront before landing on her. —So that’s what you’re up to.—

Amelie turned to him, her grin coy as she tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. —What can I say? You’ve been so patient today, carrying my bags and telling me I’m beautiful. I figured it’s only fair to reward you.—

Lando’s lips curved into a crooked smile, his fingers tightening slightly around hers. —I like where this is going.—

—Good. Because you’re picking the pieces,— she said matter-of-factly, tugging him toward the door.

Lando paused, letting the words sink in. —Wait, hold on. I’m… choosing?—

She nodded, pushing the door open and pulling him inside. —You are. You’re the only one who gets to see me in them… and the only one who gets to take them off.—

His jaw slackened slightly, his cheeks flushing as he let out a low laugh. —Jesus Christ, Ames. You’re going to kill me.—

—That’s the plan, Lan,— she teased, stepping into the softly lit boutique. The air inside was warm, filled with the scent of vanilla and lavender. The racks and displays were lined with delicate lace, satin, and silk, all in shades that ranged from soft pastels to sultry blacks and reds.

Lando followed her like a man in a daze, his eyes scanning the room. He wasn’t exactly shy, but this wasn’t the kind of shopping trip he’d ever expected to be on. Amelie, on the other hand, moved with purpose, her fingers brushing over the delicate fabrics as she glanced back at him.

—So, what do you like, Mr. Norris? Black? Red? Something soft and sweet? Or maybe…— She held up a pale pink lace set, her brow arched. —…this?—

Lando swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. —You’re really making me pick?—

—Absolutely,— she said, grinning. —And don’t be shy. Think of it as… a gift for both of us.—

He laughed, shaking his head as he stepped closer to the racks. —Alright. Let’s see.— His fingers brushed over a few pieces, his gaze lingering on a deep emerald green set that caught his eye. —This one. Definitely this one.—

Amelie took it from him, examining it with an approving nod. —Good choice. Anything else?—

—You’re not going to make me pick everything, are you?— he asked, though there was a playful lilt to his voice.

She shrugged, smirking. —Maybe. Depends on how well you’re doing.—

By the time they finished, Lando had chosen three sets, each one more stunning than the last. Amelie carried them into the fitting room, turning to glance over her shoulder as she pulled the curtain halfway closed.

—Stay right there. I’ll need your opinion.—

Lando leaned against the wall outside, his hands shoved into his pockets as he waited. The boutique wasn’t crowded, and the staff didn’t seem fazed by the couple’s playful banter. He could hear the soft rustle of fabric behind the curtain, followed by Amelie’s voice.

—Alright, first one. Ready?—

—Always,— he replied, his voice low.

The curtain slid open slightly, and Amelie stepped out just far enough for him to see. She was wearing the emerald green set he’d picked, the satin and lace hugging her figure perfectly. She looked… breathtaking. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and the confident tilt of her head only made her more irresistible.

Lando’s mouth went dry as he stared at her, his gaze traveling slowly from her bare shoulders to her long legs. —Fuck me,— he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. —You look… insane.—

Amelie laughed softly, turning slightly to show off the delicate straps and lace detailing. —You like it?—

—Like it? Ames, I’m not even sure I can form a coherent sentence right now.—

She grinned, stepping closer and lowering her voice. —Good. That’s the reaction I was going for.—

The teasing continued as she modeled the other sets, each one earning more stunned compliments and flustered remarks from Lando. By the time she slipped back into her regular clothes, he was leaning against the wall, his head tilted back as he let out a slow exhale.

—You’re actually trying to kill me,— he said as she stepped out, her shopping bag in hand.

—Well, you survived. Barely,— she teased, looping her arm through his as they walked toward the counter.

As they left the boutique, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the streets of Monaco, Lando pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple.

—You’re trouble, you know that?— he murmured.

—You love it,— she replied, her smile soft but mischievous.

—Yeah, I do,— he admitted, his voice full of affection. —More than anything.—

-------------

liked by ameliemyqueen, ln4champion, and others

celebchatterhq: Amelie Dayman and Lando Norris were spotted out and about in Monaco today doing some shopping 🛍️✨

View all 53,823 comments

lanmelie4everrr: they’re out here living their romcom in Monaco while I’m in bed with chips 😭 → softlanmelie: @lanmelie4everrr SAME 😩 but I’ll happily live through them omg

glamourf1updates: Fashion, money, love… this is what dreams are made of ✨ → melaniemcluvs: @glamourf1updates they’re actually the blueprint

monacoqueen: Amelie in Monaco is just chef’s kiss. she was MADE for this life 💅

charloveslanmelie: someone get them a couples brand deal already. they could sell WATER and I’d buy it → shoplanmie: @charloveslanmelie no bc I would take a loan for that collab

sweetameliax: they’re so unproblematic and cute and ✨in love✨ ugh I love this for them → tifositalks: @sweetameliax and they just keep getting CUTER like how??

speedylovebirds: Lando looks extra happy lately and we all know why 🥹 → daymanbaby: @speedylovebirds it’s the Amelie glow 🧡

f1girlbossie: THEY’RE SO FREAKING CUTE I’M GONNA CRY 😭😭😭 → lanmeliecore: @f1girlbossie no bc they are actually endgame don’t @ me

yourf1gf: idk how ppl ever hated on them. look at them just shopping and vibing 😭

veloceval: okay but let’s be real… the PR vibes are still strong sometimes → fanofnobodies: @veloceval Lando’s whole personality is “I have a gf,” calm down 💀 → norristan2025: @veloceval lmfao y’all are so bitter it’s embarrassing

f1fairytalez: rich, stylish, soft — I’m living for it

honestf1tea: unpopular opinion but I still think they’re cringe af → bitterinblue: @honestf1tea nah bc they post like teenagers in love. pls grow up 💀

notafanok: I miss Lando before all the lovey-dovey Insta spam. he used to be chill 😒

-------------

The drive back to Lando’s apartment was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the low hum of the Aston Martin’s engine and the occasional sigh of contentment from Amelie. The Monaco streets, now bathed in the warm hues of the late afternoon sun, seemed to mirror the cozy anticipation building between them. Lando’s hand rested on Amelie’s thigh, his thumb gently stroking the soft denim of her jeans, a silent promise of what awaited them.

As they pulled into the underground garage of his building, the cool air provided a brief respite from the lingering warmth of the day. Lando cut the engine, the sudden stillness amplifying the sound of their breathing. He turned to Amelie, a playful glint in his eyes.

—So,— he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, —about those… rewards you promised.—

Amelie’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. —Patience, Mr. Norris. All good things come to those who wait.—

They took the elevator up to his apartment, the mirrored walls reflecting their intertwined hands. The moment they stepped inside, the familiar scent of Lando’s home – a mix of clean linen and his signature cologne – enveloped Amelie. She dropped her shopping bags by the door, her gaze already fixed on him.

—Right,— she said, her voice a low murmur, —I believe I have some… new acquisitions to showcase.— Lando’s eyes darkened, his focus solely on her. He stepped closer, his hands finding her waist, pulling her flush against him. —And I, my love, am a very eager audience.—

Amelie leaned into him, her arms sliding around his neck. —Then you won’t mind waiting just a little longer, will you?— she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. —I want to be comfortable.—

Lando chuckled, his lips brushing against her temple. —Anything for you, Ames.—

She pulled away slightly, her eyes sparkling with playful intent. —Perfect. Now, if you’ll excuse me…— With a final lingering look, she turned and headed towards his bedroom, the soft click of her boots on the hardwood floor echoing in the apartment.

Lando watched her go, a grin still playing on his lips. He busied himself by locking the door and drawing the curtains, casting the living room in a soft, intimate light. The shopping bags lay forgotten by the entrance, their expensive contents now secondary to the anticipation that filled the air.

A few moments later, the bedroom door creaked open, and Amelie reappeared. She stood in the doorway, framed by the soft light spilling from the bedroom, and Lando’s breath hitched in his throat.

She was wearing the emerald green lingerie set he had chosen. The delicate lace traced the curves of her body, the satin shimmering against her skin. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes held a captivating blend of confidence and invitation.

She took a slow step forward, her gaze never leaving his. —Well?— she asked softly, her voice a husky whisper. —What do you think?—

Lando’s only response was a low groan as he closed the distance between them. He reached out, his hands gently tracing the line of her collarbone, then down to the delicate straps of the lingerie.

—I think,— he murmured, his voice thick with desire, —that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.—

Amelie leaned into his touch, her hands finding the hem of his t-shirt. —And I think you have excellent taste, Mr. Norris.—

He tangled his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back so he could press a soft kiss to her lips. —This was a very good shopping trip, Amelie.—

—The best,— she agreed, her breath catching as his lips trailed down her neck. —And I have two more sets to show you.—

—Later,— Lando breathed against her skin. —Right now, I think we have more pressing matters.—

He swept her into his arms, carrying her back towards the bedroom. Amelie laughed softly, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her lips finding his again and again. The discarded shopping bags by the door served as a silent testament to a successful afternoon, culminating in a much more intimate and satisfying conclusion.

The soft thud of Lando’s bedroom door closing behind them was the final punctuation mark on their afternoon of playful teasing and burgeoning desire. The room was bathed in the muted light filtering through the partially drawn curtains, casting long shadows that danced with their entwined figures.

He gently lowered Amelie onto the plush duvet, his gaze never leaving hers. The emerald green of the lingerie seemed to deepen in the soft light, accentuating the delicate curves of her body. He knelt beside the bed, his hand reaching out to trace the line of lace across her thigh, his touch sending shivers through her.

—You are exquisite,— he whispered, his voice husky with undisguised want.

Amelie’s fingers found his hair, gently tugging him closer. —And you, Lando Norris, have kept me waiting just long enough.—

He chuckled softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to the hollow of her throat. The scent of her perfume, a subtle blend of floral and spice, filled his senses, intoxicating him. He trailed kisses along her jawline, up to her earlobe, whispering words of adoration that made her skin tingle.

Her hands moved from his hair to the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them one by one, revealing the expanse of his chest. The soft rasp of fabric against skin heightened the anticipation, each touch a spark igniting the flame of their desire.

Lando’s focus shifted from her lips to the delicate clasp of the lingerie, his fingers fumbling slightly in his eagerness. Amelie stilled, her breath catching as he carefully unhooked it, the soft whisper of fabric falling away a sensual prelude to what was to come.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with passion. —Are you sure, Ames?— The question was barely a whisper, a formality in the face of their mutual longing.

Her answer was a soft sigh and a gentle nod, her hands reaching to cup his face, pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. The world outside the confines of the bedroom ceased to exist, their universe shrinking to the space between them, filled with the rhythm of their breathing and the frantic beat of their hearts.

Clothes were discarded with hurried abandon, landing in forgotten heaps on the floor. The cool air of the room contrasted sharply with the heat that bloomed between them, a tangible energy that crackled with every touch, every stolen glance.

Lando’s hands explored the smooth skin of her back, his thumbs tracing the delicate curve of her spine. Amelie’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her body arching slightly as his lips found the sensitive skin of her chest. Soft moans escaped her lips, each sound fueling his desire, driving him closer to the edge.

He moved over her, his weight supported by his forearms, his gaze locked with hers. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the longing she felt deep within her.

—Tell me what you want,— he murmured, his breath warm against her lips.

—You,— she breathed, her voice thick with desire. —Just you.—

And with that, the last vestiges of restraint dissolved. Their bodies moved together, a primal dance of need and fulfillment. The soft sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, punctuated by whispered endearments and sighs of pleasure. The afternoon’s playful shopping trip had led them here, to this moment of raw intimacy, a testament to the undeniable connection that bound them together. Hours before, they were navigating the glamorous streets of Monaco; now, they were lost in the private world they had created, a world where only their desires mattered. The lingering scent of expensive perfume mingled with the earthy aroma of arousal, a heady mix that spoke of indulgence and the sweet surrender of two souls finding solace in each other’s arms.

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andrewlloydwebber · 3 months ago

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RIP to Broadway Legend Merle Louise

April 15, 1934 — January 11, 2025

Merle Louise Simon, 90, of New York, passed away on January 11, 2025. Born on April 15, 1934, in New York City, she was the beloved daughter of the late Alvin and Merle (Barnes) Letowt.

Merle will be lovingly remembered as a dynamic force of nature-energetic, funny, adventurous, and full of life. An avid traveler and scuba diver, she explored the world with curiosity and vigor, journeying to Africa, Nepal, and beyond. Among her greatest adventures was her climb to the base camp of Mount Everest. A gifted entertainer with a beautiful voice and an undeniable stage presence, Merle's life was a testament to her passion for the performing arts.

Merle was also deeply proud of her education, graduating from Marymount College later in life with a degree in Psychology. Her studies reflected her intellectual curiosity and her deep understanding of the human spirit, qualities that enriched her relationships.

She began her journey in theater at the Drawing Room Theater and Pennsylvania Playhouse, both in Bethlehem, PA and traveled to New York City for auditions. Merle, who performed under her birth name Merle Letowt early in her career, made an indelible mark on Broadway. She debuted as "Thelma" in the original cast of Gypsy (1959), later stepping into the lead role of "Dainty June" for much of the Broadway run and the first national tour. She went on to star in several Stephen Sondheim musicals, earning acclaim for her nuanced performances. Her portrayal of "The Beggar Woman" in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (1979) earned her the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Featured Actress in a Musical. She was also celebrated for her roles in Company (1970) as "Susan" and Into the Woods (1987), where she memorably played "Cinderella's Mother," "Granny," and the "Giantess."

Merle also originated roles in La Cage aux Folles (1983) as "Mme. Dindon" and Kiss of the Spider Woman (1993) as "Molina's Mother," a role she performed in London's West End, Toronto, and on the national tour. Off-Broadway, she created the role of "Cecily MacIntosh" in Charlotte Sweet (1982) and was widely lauded for her performances in classics by Shakespeare, Chekhov, Molière, and Shaw.

Her theatrical legacy extended beyond the stage, inspiring the creation of the game Six Degrees of Merle Louise, a Broadway-themed twist on the popular Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Merle's on-camera appearances were equally memorable. She was featured in the televised production of Into the Woods and a documentary about the recording of the original cast album of Company. She made guest appearances on TV shows, including Law & Order, and continued performing into her later years. Highlights included roles in Cabaret, A Little Night Music, and The Full Monty. In 2007, she appeared in Luke Yankee's award-winning play The Jesus Hickey. She also appeared in Billy Elliot.

Merle will be dearly missed by her daughter, Laura Simon; daughter, Heather Simon; and son, Matt Simon. She is also survived by her sister, Jane Halteman, and her husband David Halteman; and a brother, Alvin "Butch" Letowt, Jr. She was preceded in death by her sister, Christine A. King' brother-in-law, Walter I. King and nephew Adam D. Halteman.

Merle's legacy extends beyond her illustrious career. She will be remembered for her warmth, humor, and zest for life. She enriched the lives of those that she encountered, leaving a profound impact on the theater community and all who knew her.

#merle louise #sweeney todd #stephen sondheim #into the woods #broadway

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lya-dustin · 6 months ago

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The Scion of Kings and the Lady of Flowers

gil-galad x fem!maia!reader*

*reader gets an epessë by Gil-galad technically still a reader

implied sex/elf elopement

⚠️Spam Likers will all be blocked from this blog starting January 3, 2025. if you don't reblog or leave a comment in the replies, you will be blocked⚠️

He first saw you flitting about a meadow and everything you touched suddenly awoke and filled the air with the feel of spring.

Morgoth and his forces had decimated the land and yet you resurrected everything from the weeds to the felled trees as you sang to them in the language of the Ainur.

Had this been how Elu Thingol felt met Melian of the Nightingales?

A curiosity that led to being pulled to the mysterious maiden unaware of his presence as if it had always been inevitable.

Gil-galad found himself before the holy being not as the King of the Noldor, but a young man entranced by the being he knows he will love and cherish for the rest of his existence.

“It is rude to stare.” Your eyes meet his and with outstretched hands asked him to join you.

Lothíriel, he has named you. Maiden Crowned with Flowers.

His crown of gold is cold and lifeless in comparison to yours that does not wilt from the shear strength of your abilities. A mockery to the leaves and seeds of the Great Tree even if no smith could ever match Celebrimbor's skill.

You lead him in a dance that makes no sense to anyone but the two of you and when you reach on your tiptoes and throw your arms around him, he feels himself come alive like the flora around the two of you.

Gil-galad is no stranger to desire, its familiar heat and the desperation to have the being that incites it are as known to him as the Face of Ilúvatar is to you.

His lips brush tentatively against yours fearing your rejection, but instead you match his desire with yours and the world stops just for the two of you.

“Say it again.” You bid him even if he had not said the name he gave you out loud. You are flushed and radiant with joy when you remember that he is only an elf and elves need air.

“Lothíriel.” He names you breathlessly and the king knows it is the name you will always have even when his fea leaves his body and enters the Halls of Mandos.

“Ereinion.” You name him and just as you will treasure his gift, he will treasure yours over all else.

The Lady of Flowers and the Scion of Kings.

“Marry me.” Neither of you wish to stop, he wishes to wed you now and your will is the same as his.

Elves do not use ceremony in wartime, they speak their vows with only the All Father and the Valar as witnesses. The chance of dying before having the chance to hold a real wedding was too great, so most held off the celebration for after the war if they lived long enough to see it.

“Perhaps I will.” You say laying on the grass beside him. “Why wait when we may never meet again?”

Ereinion Gil-Galad weds you in the same meadow he met you, the same meadow that will form part of his kingdom in less than a century.

#gil galad x reader #rings of power fanfiction #gil galad fic #because gil galad deserves to frolic in a meadow and kiss and have sex(get married)

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posttexasstressdisorder · 4 months ago

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A mole infiltrated the highest ranks of American militias. Here's what he found.

ProPublica

January 4, 2025 8:26PM ET

John Williams kept a backpack filled with everything he’d need to go on the run: three pairs of socks; a few hundred dollars cash; makeshift disguises and lock-picking gear; medical supplies, vitamins and high-calorie energy gels; and thumb drives that each held more than 100 gigabytes of encrypted documents, which he would quickly distribute if he were about to be arrested or killed.

On April 1, 2023, Williams retrieved the bag from his closet and rushed to his car. He had no time to clean the dishes that had accumulated in his apartment. He did not know if armed men were out looking for him. He did not know if he would ever feel safe to return. He parked his car for the night in the foothills overlooking Salt Lake City and curled up his 6-foot-4-inch frame in the back seat of the 20-year-old Honda. This was his new home.

He turned on a recording app to add an entry to his diary. His voice had the high-pitched rasp of a lifelong smoker: “Where to fucking start,” he sighed, taking a deep breath. After more than two years undercover, he’d been growing rash and impulsive. He had feared someone was in danger and tried to warn him, but it backfired. Williams was sure at least one person knew he was a double agent now, he said into his phone. “It’s only a matter of time before it gets back to the rest.”

In the daylight, Williams dropped an envelope with no return address in a U.S. Postal Service mailbox. He’d loaded it with a flash drive and a gold Oath Keepers medallion.

It was addressed to me.

The documents laid out a remarkable odyssey. Posing as an ideological compatriot, Williams had penetrated the top ranks of two of the most prominent right-wing militias in the country. He’d slept in the home of the man who claims to be the new head of the Oath Keepers, rifling through his files in the middle of the night. He’d devised elaborate ruses to gather evidence of militias’ ties to high-ranking law enforcement officials. He’d uncovered secret operations like the surveillance of a young journalist, then improvised ways to sabotage the militants’ schemes. In one group, his ploys were so successful that he became the militia’s top commander in the state of Utah.

Now he was a fugitive. He drove south toward a desert four hours from the city, where he could disappear.

1. Prelude

I’d first heard from Williams five months earlier, when he sent me an intriguing but mysterious anonymous email. “I have been attempting to contact national media and civil rights groups for over a year and been ignored,” it read. “I’m tired of yelling into the void.” He sent it to an array of reporters. I was the only one to respond. I’ve burned a lot of time sating my curiosity about emails like that. I expected my interest to die after a quick call. Instead, I came to occupy a dizzying position as the only person to know the secret Williams had been harboring for almost two years.

We spoke a handful of times over encrypted calls before he fled. He’d been galvanized by the Jan. 6, 2021, storming of the Capitol, Williams told me, when militias like the Oath Keepers conspired to violently overturn the 2020 presidential election. He believed democracy was under siege from groups the FBI has said pose a major domestic terrorism threat. So he infiltrated the militia movement on spec, as a freelance vigilante. He did not tell the police or the FBI. A loner, he did not tell his family or friends.

Williams seemed consumed with how to ensure this wasn’t all a self-destructive, highly dangerous waste of time. He distrusted law enforcement and didn’t want to be an informant, he said. He told me he hoped to damage the movement by someday going public with what he’d learned.

The Capitol riot had been nagging at me too. I’d reported extensively on Jan. 6. I’d sat with families who blamed militias for snatching their loved ones away from them, pulling them into a life of secret meetings and violent plots — or into a jail cell. By the time Williams contacted me, though, the most infamous groups appeared to have largely gone dark. Were militias more enduring, more potent, than it seemed?

Some of what he told me seemed significant. Still, before the package arrived, it could feel like I was corresponding with a shadow. I knew Williams treated deception as an art form. “When you spin a lie,” he once told me, “you have to have things they can verify so they won’t think to ask questions.” While his stories generally seemed precise and sober — always reassuring for a journalist — I needed to proceed with extreme skepticism.

So I pored over his files, tens of thousands of them. They included dozens of hours of conversations he secretly recorded and years of private militia chat logs and videos. I was able to authenticate those through other sources, in and out of the movement. I also talked to dozens of people, from Williams’ friends to other members of his militias. I dug into his tumultuous past and discovered records online he hadn’t pointed me to that supported his account.

The files give a unique window, at once expansive and intimate, into one of the most consequential and volatile social movements of our time. Williams penetrated a new generation of paramilitary leaders, which included doctors, career cops and government attorneys. Sometimes they were frightening, sometimes bumbling, always heavily armed. It was a world where a man would propose assassinating politicians, only to spark a debate about logistics.

Federal prosecutors have convicted more than 1,000 people for their role in Jan. 6. Key militia captains were sent to prison for a decade or more. But that did not quash the allure that militias hold for a broad swath of Americans.

Now President-elect Donald Trump has promised to pardon Jan. 6 rioters when he returns to the White House. Experts warn that such a move could trigger a renaissance for militant extremists, sending them an unprecedented message of protection and support — and making it all the more urgent to understand them.

(Unless otherwise noted, none of the militia members mentioned in this story responded to requests for comment.)

Williams is part of a larger cold war, radical vs. radical, that’s stayed mostly in the shadows. A left-wing activist told me he personally knows about 30 people who’ve gone undercover in militias or white supremacist groups. They did not coordinate with law enforcement, instead taking the surveillance of one of the most intractable features of American politics into their own hands.

Skeptical of authorities, militias have sought to reshape the country through armed action. Williams sought to do it through betrayals and lies, which sat with him uneasily. “I couldn’t have been as successful at this if I wasn’t one of them in some respects,” he once told me. “I couldn’t have done it so long unless they recognized something in me.”

2. The Struggle

If there is one moment that set Williams on his path into the militia underground, it came roughly a decade before Jan. 6, when he was sent to a medium-security prison. He was in his early 30s, drawn to danger and filled with an inner turbulence.

Williams grew up in what he described to me, to friends and in court records as a dysfunctional and unhappy home. He was a gay child in rural America. His father viewed homosexuality as a mortal sin, he said. Williams spent much of his childhood outdoors, bird-watching, camping and trying to spend as little time as possible at home. (John Williams is now his legal name, one he recently acquired.)

Once he was old enough to move out, Williams continued to go off the grid for weeks at a time. Living in a cave interested him; the jobs he’d found at grocery stores and sandwich shops did not. He told me his young adulthood was “a blank space in my life,” a stretch of “petty crime” and falling-outs with old friends. He pled guilty to a series of misdemeanors: trespassing, criminal mischief, assault.

What landed Williams in prison was how he responded to one of those arrests. He sent disturbing, anonymous emails to investigators on the case, threatening their families. Police traced the messages back to him and put him away for three years.

Williams found time to read widely in prison — natural history books, Bertrand Russell, Cormac McCarthy. And it served as a finishing school for a skill that would be crucial in his undercover years. Surviving prison meant learning to maneuver around gang leaders and corrections officers. He learned how to steer conversations to his own benefit without the other person noticing.

When he got out, he had a clear ambition: to become a wilderness survival instructor. He used Facebook to advertise guided hikes in Utah’s Uinta Mountains. An old photo captures Williams looking like a lanky camp counselor as he shows students an edible plant. He sports a thick ponytail and cargo pants, painted toenails poking out from his hiking sandals.

Many people in Utah had turned to wilderness survival after a personal crisis, forming a community of misfits who thrived in environments harsh and remote. Even among them, Williams earned a reputation for putting himself in extreme situations. “Not many people are willing to struggle on their own. He takes that struggle to a high degree,” one friend told me admiringly. Williams took up krav maga and muay thai because he enjoyed fistfights. He once spent 40 days alone in the desert with only a knife, living off chipmunks and currants (by choice, to celebrate a birthday).

Williams struggled to get his survival business going. He’d hand out business cards at hobbyist gatherings with promises of adventure, but in practice, he was mostly leading seminars in city parks for beer money. He would only take calls in emergencies, another friend recalled, because he wanted to save money on minutes.

Then around New Year’s in 2019, according to Williams, he received an email from a leader in American Patriots Three Percent, or AP3. He wanted to hire Williams for a training session. He could pay $1,000.

Finally, Williams thought. I’m starting to get some traction.

3. The Decision

They had agreed there’d be no semiautomatic rifles, Williams told me, so everyone brought a sidearm. Some dozen militiamen had driven into the mountains near Peter Sinks, Utah, one of the coldest places in the contiguous U.S. Initially they wanted training in evasion and escape, Williams said, but he thought they needed to work up to that. So for three days, he taught them the basics of wilderness survival, but with a twist: how to stay alive while “trying to stay hidden.” He showed them how to build a shelter that would both keep them dry and escape detection. How to make a fire, then how to clean it up so no one could tell it was ever there.

As the days wore on, stray comments started to irk him. Once, a man said he’d been “kiked” into overpaying for his Ruger handgun. At the end of the training, AP3 leaders handed out matching patches. The ritual reminded Williams of a biker gang.

He’d already been to some shorter AP3 events to meet the men and tailor the lesson to his first meaningful client, Williams told me. But spending days in the woods with them felt different. He said he found the experience unpleasant and decided not to work with the group again.

This portion of Williams’ story — exactly how and why he first became a militia member — is the hardest to verify. By his own account, he kept his thoughts and plans entirely to himself. At the time, he was too embarrassed to even tell his friends what happened that weekend, he said. In the survival community, training militias was considered taboo.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Williams was hiding a less gallant backstory. Maybe he’d joined AP3 out of genuine enthusiasm and then soured on it. Maybe now he was trying to fool me. Indeed, when I called the AP3 leader who set up the training, he disputed Williams’ timeline. He remembered Williams staying sporadically but consistently involved after the session in the mountains, as a friend of the group who attended two or three events a year. To further muddy the picture, Williams had warned me the man would say something like that — Williams had worked hard to create the impression that he never left, he said, that he’d just gone inactive for a while, busy with work. (Remarkably, the AP3er defended Williams’ loyalty each time I asserted he’d secretly tried to undermine the group. “He was very well-respected,” he said. “I never questioned his honesty or his intentions.”)

Even Williams’ friends told me he was something of a mystery to them. But I found evidence that supports his story where so many loners bare their innermost thoughts: the internet. In 2019 and early 2020, Williams wrote thousands of since-deleted entries in online forums. These posts delivered a snapshot of his worldview in this period: idiosyncratic, erudite and angry with little room for moderation. “There are occasionally militia types that want these skills to further violent fringe agendas and I will absolutely not enable them,” he wrote in one 2020 entry about wilderness survival. In another, he called AP3 and its allies “far right lunatics.” The posts didn’t prove the details of his account, but here was the Williams I knew, writing under pseudonyms long before we’d met.

One day, he’d voice his disdain for Trump voters, neoliberalism or “the capitalist infrastructure.” Another, he’d rail against gun control measures as immoral. When Black Lives Matter protests broke out in 2020, Williams wrote that he was gathering medical supplies for local protestors. He sounded at times like a revolutionary crossed with a left-wing liberal arts student. “The sole job of a cop is to bully citizens on behalf of the state,” he wrote. “Violent overthrow of the state is our only viable option.”

Then came Jan. 6. As he was watching on TV, he later told me, Williams thought he recognized the patch on a rioter’s tactical vest. It looked like the one that AP3 leaders had handed out at the end of his training.

Did I teach that guy? he wondered. Why was I so cordial to them all? If they knew I was gay, I bet they’d want me dead, and I actually helped them. Because I was too selfish to think of anything but my career.

Shame quickly turned to anger, he told me, and to a desire for revenge. Pundits were saying that democracy itself was in mortal peril. Williams took that notion literally. He assumed countless Americans would respond with aggressive action, he said, and he wanted to be among them.

4. A New World

Williams stood alone in his apartment, watching himself in the mirror.

“I’m tall.”

“I’m Dave.”

“I’m tall.”

“I’m Dave.”

He tried to focus on his mannerisms, on the intonation of his voice. Whether he was saying the truth or a falsehood, he wanted to appear exactly the same.

Months had passed since the Capitol riot. By all appearances, Williams was now an enthusiastic member of AP3. Because he already had an in, joining the group was easy, he said. Becoming a self-fashioned spy took some trial and error, however. In the early days, he had posed as a homeless person to surveil militia training facilities, but he decided that was a waste of time.

The casual deceit that had served him in prison was proving useful. Deviousness was a skill, and he stayed up late working to hone it. He kept a journal with every lie he told so he wouldn’t lose track. His syllabus centered on acting exercises and the history of espionage and cults. People like sex cult leader Keith Raniere impressed him most — he studied biographies to learn how they manipulated people, how they used cruelty to wear their followers down into acquiescence.

Williams regularly berated the militia’s rank and file. He doled out condescending advice about the group’s security weaknesses, warning their technical incompetence would make them easy targets for left-wing hackers and government snoops. Orion Rollins, the militia’s top leader in Utah, soon messaged Williams to thank him for the guidance. “Don’t worry about being a dick,” he wrote. “It’s time to learn and become as untraceable as possible.” (The AP3 messages Williams sent me were so voluminous that I spent an entire month reading them before I noticed this exchange.)

Williams was entering the militia at a pivotal time. AP3 once had chapters in nearly every state, with a roster likely in the tens of thousands; as authorities cracked down on the movement after Jan. 6, membership was plummeting. Some who stayed on had white nationalist ties. Others were just lonely conservatives who had found purpose in the paramilitary cause. For now, the group’s leaders were focused on saving the militia, not taking up arms to fight their enemies. (Thanks to Williams’ trove and records from several other sources, I was eventually able to write an investigation into AP3’s resurgence.)

On March 4, 2021, Williams complained to Rollins that everyone was still ignoring his advice. Williams volunteered to take over as the state’s “intel officer,” responsible for protecting the group from outside scrutiny.

“My hands are tied,” Williams wrote. “If I’m not able to” take charge, the whole militia “might unravel.” Rollins gave him the promotion.

“Thanks Orion. You’ve shown good initiative here.” Privately, he saw a special advantage to his appointment. If anyone suspected there was a mole in Utah, Williams would be the natural choice to lead the mole hunt.

Now he had a leadership role. What he did not yet have was a plan. But how could he decide on goals, he figured, until he knew more about AP3? He would work to gather information and rise through the ranks by being the best militia member he could be.

He took note of the job titles of leaders he met, like an Air Force reserve master sergeant (I confirmed this through military records) who recruited other airmen into the movement. Williams attended paramilitary trainings, where the group practiced ambushes with improvised explosives and semiautomatic guns. He offered his comrades free lessons in hand-to-hand combat and bonded with them in the backcountry hunting jackrabbits. When the militia joined right-wing rallies for causes like gun rights, they went in tactical gear. Williams attended as their “gray man,” he said — assigned to blend in with the crowd and call in armed reinforcements if tensions erupted.

Since his work was seasonal, Williams could spend as much as 40 hours a week on militia activities. One of his duties as intel officer was to monitor the group’s enemies on the left, which could induce vertigo. A militia leader once dispatched him to a Democratic Socialists of America meeting at a local library, he said, where he saw a Proud Boy he recognized from a joint militia training. Was this a closet right-winger keeping tabs on the socialists? Or a closet leftist who might dox him or inform the police?

He first contacted me in October 2022. He couldn’t see how the movement was changing beyond his corner of Utah. AP3 was reinvigorated by then, I later found, with as many as 50 recruits applying each day. In private chats I reviewed, leaders were debating if they should commit acts of terrorism. At the Texas border, members were rounding up immigrants in armed patrols. But Williams didn’t know all that yet. On our first call, he launched into a litany of minutiae: names, logistical details, allegations of minor players committing petty crimes. He could tell I wasn’t sure what it all amounted to.

Williams feared that if anything he’d helped AP3, not damaged it. Then, in early November, Rollins told him to contact a retired detective named Bobby Kinch.

5. The Detective and the Sheriff

Williams turned on a recording device and dialed. Kinch picked up after one ring: “What’s going on?” he bellowed. “How you doing, man?”

“I don’t know if you remember me,” Kinch continued, but they’d met years before.

“Oh, oh, back in the day,” Williams said, stuttering for a second. He knew Kinch was expecting the call but was confused by the warm reception. Maybe Kinch was at the training in 2019?

“Well I’m the sitting, current national director of the Oath Keepers now.”

The militia’s eye-patched founder, Stewart Rhodes, was in jail amid his trial for conspiring to overthrow the government on Jan. 6. Kinch said he was serving on the group’s national board when his predecessor was arrested. Rhodes had called from jail to say, “Do not worry about me. This is God’s way.”

“He goes, ‘But I want you to save the organization.’”

Kinch explained that Rollins, who’d recently defected to the Oath Keepers, had been singing Williams’ praises. (Bound by shared ideology, militias are more porous than outsiders would think. Members often cycle between groups like square dance partners.) “I imagine your plate is full with all the crazy stuff going on in the world, but I’d love to sit down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Williams said. “AP3 and Oath Keepers should definitely be working together.” He proposed forming a joint reconnaissance team so their two militias could collaborate on intelligence operations. Kinch lit up. “I’m a career cop,” he said. “I did a lot of covert stuff, surveillance.”

By the time they hung up 45 minutes later, Kinch had invited Williams to come stay at his home. Williams felt impressed with himself. The head of the most infamous militia in America was treating him like an old friend.

To me, Williams sounded like a different person on the call, with the same voice but a brand new personality. It was the first recording that I listened to and the first time I became certain the most important part of his story was true. To authenticate the record, I independently confirmed nonpublic details Kinch discussed on the tape, a process I repeated again and again with the other files. Soon I had proof of what would otherwise seem outlandish: Williams’ access was just as deep as he claimed.

I could see why people would be eager to follow Kinch. Even when he sermonized on the “global elitist cabal,” he spoke with the affable passion of a beloved high school teacher. I’d long been fascinated by the prevalence of cops on militia rosters, so I started examining his backstory.

Kinch grew up in upstate New York, the son of a World War II veteran who had him at about 50. When Kinch was young, he confided in a later recording, he was a “wheelman,” slang for getaway driver. “I ran from the cops so many fucking times,” he said. But “at the end of the day, you know, I got away. I never got caught.”

He moved to Las Vegas and, at the age of 25, became an officer in the metro police. Kinch came to serve in elite detective units over 23 years in the force, hunting fugitives and helping take down gangs like the Playboy Bloods. Eventually he was assigned to what he called the “Black squad,” according to court records, tasked with investigating violent crimes where the suspect was African American. (A Las Vegas police spokesperson told me they stopped “dividing squads by a suspect’s race” a year before Kinch retired.)

Then around Christmas in 2013, Kinch’s career began to self-destruct. In a series of Facebook posts, he said that he would welcome a “race war.” “Bring it!” he wrote. “I’m about as fed up as a man (American, Christian, White, Heterosexual) can get!” An ensuing investigation prompted the department to tell the Secret Service that Kinch “could be a threat to the president,” according to the Las Vegas Sun. (The Secret Service interviewed him and determined he was not a threat to President Barack Obama, the outlet reported. Kinch told the paper he was not racist and that he was being targeted by colleagues with “an ax to grind.”) In 2016, he turned in his badge, a year after the saga broke in the local press.

Kinch moved to southern Utah and found a job hawking hunting gear at a Sportsman’s Warehouse. But he “had this urge,” he later said on a right-wing podcast. “Like I wasn’t done yet.” So he joined the Oath Keepers. “When people tell me that violence doesn’t solve anything, I look back over my police career,” he once advised his followers. “And I’m like, ‘Wow, that’s interesting, because violence did solve quite a bit.’”

Kinch added Williams to an encrypted Signal channel where the Utah Oath Keepers coordinated their intel work. Two weeks later on Nov. 30, 2022, Williams received a cryptic message from David Coates, one of Kinch’s top deputies.

Coates was an elder statesman of sorts in the Oath Keepers, a 73-year-old Vietnam veteran with a Hulk Hogan mustache. There’d been a break-in at the Utah attorney general’s office, he reported to the group, and for some unspoken reason, the Oath Keepers seemed to think this was of direct relevance to them. Coates promised to find out more about the burglary: “The Sheriff should have some answers” to “my inquiries today or tomorrow.”

That last line would come to obsess Williams. He sent a long, made-up note about his own experiences collaborating with law enforcement officials. “I’m curious, how responsive is the Sheriff to your inquiries? Or do you have a source you work with?”

“The Sheriff has become a personal friend who hosted my FBI interview,” Coates responded. “He opens a lot of doors.” Coates had been in D.C. on Jan. 6, he’d told Williams. It’d make sense if that had piqued the FBI’s interest.

To Williams, it hinted at a more menacing scenario — at secret ties between those who threaten the rule of the law and those duty-bound to enforce it. He desperately wanted more details, more context, the sheriff’s name. But he didn’t want to push for too much too fast.

6. The Hunting of Man

A forest engulfed Kinch’s house on all sides. He lived in a half-million-dollar cabin in summer home country, up 8,000 feet in the mountains outside Zion National Park. Williams stood in the kitchen on a mid-December Saturday morning.

Williams had recently made a secret purchase of a small black device off Amazon. It looked like a USB drive. The on-off switch and microphone holes revealed what it really was: a bug. As the two men chatted over cups of cannoli-flavored coffee, Williams didn’t notice when Kinch’s dog snatched the bug from his bag.

The night before, Williams had slept in the guest room. The house was cluttered with semiautomatic rifles. He had risked photographing three plaques on the walls inscribed with the same Ernest Hemingway line. “There is no hunting like the hunting of man,” they read. “Those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never really care for anything else.”

They spotted the dog at the same time. The bug was attached to a charging device. The animal was running around with it like it was a tennis ball. As Kinch went to retrieve it, Williams felt panic grip his chest. Could anyone talk their way out of this? He’d learned enough about Kinch to be terrified of his rage. Looking around, Williams eyed his host’s handgun on the kitchen counter.

If he even starts to examine it, I’ll grab the gun, he thought. Then I’ll shoot him and flee into the woods.

Kinch took the bug from the dog’s mouth. Then he handed it right to Williams and started to apologize.

Don’t worry about it, Williams said. He’s a puppy!

On their way out the door, Kinch grabbed the pistol and placed it in the console of his truck. It was an hour’s drive to the nearest city, where the Oath Keepers were holding a leadership meeting. Williams rode shotgun, his bug hooked onto the zipper of his backpack. On the tape, I could hear the wind racing through the car window. The radio played Bryan Adams’ “Summer of ’69.”

Kinch seemed in the hold of a dark nostalgia — as if he was wrestling with the monotony of civilian life, with the new strictures he faced since turning in his badge. Twenty minutes in, he recited the Hemingway line like it was a mantra. “I have a harder time killing animals than a human being,” Kinch continued. Then he grew quiet as he recounted the night he decided to retire.

He’d woken up in an oleander bush with no memory of how he’d gotten there. His hands were covered in blood. He was holding a gun. “I had to literally take my magazine out and count my bullets, make sure I didn’t fucking kill somebody,” he said. “I black out when I get angry. And I don’t remember what the fuck I did.”

Kinch went on: “I love the adrenaline of police work,” and then he paused. “I miss it. It was a hoot.”

By the time they reached Cedar City, Utah, Kinch was back to charismatic form. He dished out compliments to the dozen or so Oath Keepers assembled for the meeting — “You look like you lost weight” — and told everyone to put their phones in their cars. “It’s just good practice. Because at some point we may have to go down a route,” one of his deputies explained, trailing off.

Kinch introduced Williams to the group. “He’s not the feds. And if he is, he’s doing a damn good job.”

Williams laughed, a little too loud.

7. Doctor, Lawyer, Sergeant, Spy

Early in the meeting, Kinch laid out his vision for the Oath Keepers’ role in American life. “We have a two-edged sword,” he said. The “dull edge” was more traditional grassroots work, exemplified by efforts to combat alleged election fraud. He hoped to build their political apparatus so that in five or 10 years, conservative candidates would be seeking the Oath Keepers’ endorsement.

Then there was the sharp edge: paramilitary training. “You hone all these skills because when the dull edge fails, you’ve got to be able to turn that around and be sharp.” The room smelled like donuts, one of the men had remarked.

The week before, Kinch’s predecessor had been convicted of seditious conspiracy. This was their first meeting since the verdict, and I opened the recordings later with the same anticipation I feel sitting down for the Super Bowl. What would come next for the militia after this historic trial: ruin, recovery or revolt?

The stature of men leading the group’s post-Jan. 6 resurrection startled me. I was expecting the ex-cops, like the one from Fresno, California, who said he stayed on with the militia because “this defines me.” Militias tend to prize law enforcement ties; during an armed operation, it could be useful to have police see you as a friend.

But there was also an Ohio OB-GYN on the national board of directors — he used to work for the Cleveland Clinic, I discovered, and now led a subsidiary of UnitedHealth Group. The doctor was joined at board meetings by a city prosecutor in Utah, an ex-city council member and, Williams was later told, a sergeant with an Illinois sheriff’s department. (The doctor did not respond to requests for comment. He has since left his post with the UnitedHealth subsidiary, a spokesperson for the company said.)

Over six hours, the men set goals and delegated responsibilities with surprisingly little worry about the federal crackdown on militias. They discussed the scourges they were there to combat (stolen elections, drag shows, President Joe Biden) only in asides. Instead, they focused on “marketing” — “So what buzzwords can we insert in our mission statement?” one asked — and on resources that’d help local chapters rapidly expand. “I’d like to see this organization be like the McDonald’s of patriot organizations,” another added. To Williams, it felt more like a Verizon sales meeting than an insurrectionist cell.

Kinch had only recently taken over and as I listened, I wondered how many followers he really had outside of that room. They hadn’t had a recruitment drive in the past year, which they resolved to change. They had $1,700 in the bank. But it didn’t seem entirely bravado. Kinch and his comrades mentioned conversations with chapters around the county.

Then as they turned from their weakened national presence to their recent successes in Utah, Williams snapped to attention.

“We had surveillance operations,” Kinch said, without elaboration.

“We’re making progress locally on the law enforcement,” Coates added. He said that at least three of them can get “the sheriff” on the phone any time of day. Like the last time, Coates didn’t give a name, but he said something even more intriguing: “The sheriff is my tie-in to the state attorney general because he’s friends.” Williams told me he fought the urge to lob a question. (The attorney general’s office did not respond to requests for comment.)

Closing out the day, Kinch summarized their plan moving forward: Keep a low profile. Focus on the unglamorous work. Rebuild their national footprint. And patiently prepare for 2024. “We still got what, two more years, till another quote unquote election?” He thanked Williams for coming and asked if they could start planning training exercises.

“Absolutely, yeah, I’m excited about that.” Williams was resolved to find his way onto the national board.

8. The Stakeout

On Dec. 17, 2022, a week after the meeting, Williams called a tech-savvy 19-year-old Oath Keeper named Rowan. He’d told Rowan he was going to teach him to infiltrate leftist groups, but Williams’ real goal was far more underhanded. While the older Oath Keepers had demurred at his most sensitive questions recently, the teenager seemed eager to impress a grizzled survival instructor. By assigning missions to Rowan, he hoped to probe the militias’ secrets without casting suspicion on himself.

“You don’t quite have the life experience to do this,” Williams opened on the recording. But with a couple years’ training, “I think we can work towards that goal.” He assigned his student a scholarly monograph, “Alienation: Marx’s Conception of Man in a Capitalist Society,” to begin his long education in how leftists think. “Perfect,” Rowan responded. He paused to write the title down.

Then came his pupil’s first exercise: build a dossier on Williams’ boss in AP3. Williams explained it was safest to practice on people they knew.

In Rowan, Williams had found a particularly vulnerable target. He was on probation at the time. According to court records, earlier that year, Rowan had walked up to a stranger’s truck as she was leaving her driveway. She rolled down her window. He punched her several times in the face. When police arrived, Rowan began screaming that he was going to kill them and threatened to “blow up the police department.” He was convicted of misdemeanor assault.

Williams felt guilty about using the young man but also excited. (“He is completely in my palm,” he recorded in his diary.) Within a few weeks, he had Rowan digging into Kinch’s background. “I’m going to gradually have him do more and more things,” he said in the diary, “with the hopes that I can eventually get him to hack” into militia leaders’ accounts.

The relationship quickly unearthed something that disturbed him. The week of their call, Williams woke up to a series of angry messages in the Oath Keepers’ encrypted Signal channel. The ire was directed toward a Salt Lake Tribune reporter who, according to Coates, was “a real piece of shit.” His sins included critical coverage of “anyone trying to expose voter fraud” and writing about a local political figure who’d appeared on a leaked Oath Keepers roster.

Williams messaged Rowan. “I noticed in the chat that there is some kind of red list of journalists etc? Could you get that to me?” he asked. “It would be very helpful to my safety when observing political rallies or infiltrating leftists.”

“Ah yes, i have doxes on many journalists in utah,” Rowan responded, using slang for sharing someone’s personal data with malicious intent.

He sent over a dossier on the Tribune reporter, which opened with a brief manifesto: “This dox goes out to those that have been terrorized, doxed, harassed, slandered, and family names mutilated by these people.” It provided the reporter’s address and phone number, along with two pictures of his house.

Then Rowan shared similar documents about a local film critic — he’d posted a “snarky” retweet of the Tribune writer — and about a student reporter at Southern Utah University. The college student had covered a rally the Oath Keepers recently attended, Rowan explained, and the militia believed he was coordinating with the Tribune. “We found the car he drove through a few other members that did a stakeout.”

“That’s awesome,” Williams said. Internally, he was reeling: a stakeout? In the dossier, he found a backgrounder on the student’s parents along with their address. Had armed men followed this kid around? Did they surveil his family home?

His notes show him wrestling with a decision he hadn’t let himself reckon with before: Was it time to stop being a fly on the wall and start taking action? Did he need to warn someone? The journalists? The police? Breaking character would open the door to disaster. The incident with Kinch’s dog had been a chilling reminder of the risks.

Williams had been in the militia too long. He was losing his sense of objectivity. The messages were alarming, but were they an imminent threat? He couldn’t tell. Williams had made plans to leave Utah if his cover was blown. He didn’t want to jeopardize two years of effort over a false alarm. But what if he did nothing and this kid got hurt?

9. The Plan

By 2023, Williams’ responsibilities were expanding as rapidly as his anxiety. His schedule was packed with events for AP3, the Oath Keepers and a third militia he’d recently gotten inside. He vowed to infiltrate the Proud Boys and got Coates to vouch for him with the local chapter. He prepared plans to penetrate a notorious white supremacist group too.

His adversaries were gaining momentum as well. Williams soon made the four-hour drive to Kinch’s house for another leadership meeting and was told on tape about a national Oath Keepers recruiting bump; they’d also found contact information for 40,000 former members, which they hoped to use to bring a flood of militiamen back into the fold.

Despite the risk to his own safety and progress, Williams decided to send the journalists anonymous warnings from burner accounts. He attached sensitive screenshots so that they’d take him seriously. And then … nothing. The reporters never responded; he wondered if the messages went to spam. His secret was still secure.

But the point of his mission was finally coming into focus. He was done simply playing the part of model militia member. His plan had two parts: After gathering as much compromising information as he could, he would someday release it all online, he told me. He carefully documented anything that looked legally questionable, hoping law enforcement would find something useful for a criminal case. At the very least, going public could make militiamen more suspicious of each other.

In the meantime, he would undermine the movement from the inside. He began trying to blunt the danger that he saw lurking in every volatile situation the militiamen put themselves in.

On Jan. 27, 2023, body camera footage from the police killing of Tyre Nichols, an unarmed Black man, became public. “The footage is gruesome and distressing,” The New York Times reported. “Cities across the U.S. are bracing for protests.” The militias had often responded to Black Lives Matter rallies with street brawls and armed patrols.

Williams had visions of Kyle Rittenhouse-esque shootings in the streets. He put his newly formulated strategy into action, sending messages to militiamen around the country with made-up rumors he hoped would persuade them to stay home.

In Utah, he wrote to Kinch and the leaders of his other two militias. He would be undercover at the protests in Salt Lake City, he wrote. If any militiamen went, even “a brief look of recognition could blow my cover and put my life in danger.” All three ordered their troops to avoid the event. (“This is a bit of a bummer,” one AP3 member responded. “I’ve got some aggression built up I need to let out.”)

After the protests, Williams turned on his voice diary and let out a long sigh. For weeks, he’d been nauseous and had trouble eating. He’d developed insomnia that would keep him up until dawn. He’d gone to the rally to watch for militia activity. When he got home, he’d vomited blood.

Even grocery shopping took hours now. He circled the aisles to check if he was being tailed. Once while driving, he thought he caught someone following him. He’d reached out to a therapist to help “relieve some of this pressure,” he said, but was afraid to speak candidly with him. “I can check his office for bugs and get his electronics out of the office. And then once we’re free, I can tell him what’s going on.”

He quickly launched into a litany of items on his to-do list. A training exercise to attend. A recording device he needed to find a way to install. “I’m just fucking sick of being around these toxic motherfuckers.”

“It’s getting to be too much for me.”

10. The Deep State

On March 20, Williams called Scot Seddon, the founder of AP3. If he was on the verge of a breakdown, it didn’t impact his performance. I could tell when Williams was trying to advance his agenda as I listened later, but he was subtle about it. Obsequious. Methodical. By day’s end, he’d achieved perhaps his most remarkable feat yet. He’d helped persuade Seddon and his lieutenants to fire the head of AP3’s Utah chapter and to install Williams in his place.

Now he had access to sensitive records only senior militia leaders could see. He had final say over the group’s actions in an entire state. He knew the coup would make him vastly more effective. Yet that night in his voice diary, Williams sounded like a man in despair.

The success only added to his paranoia. Becoming a major figure in the Utah militia scene raised a possibility he couldn’t countenance: He might be arrested and sent to jail for some action of his comrades.

With a sense of urgency now, he focused even more intently on militia ties to government authorities. “I have been still collecting evidence on the paramilitaries’ use of law enforcement,” he said in the diary entry. “It’s way deeper than I thought.”

He solved the mystery of the Oath Keepers’ “sheriff”: It was the sheriff for Iron County, Utah, a tourist hub near two national parks. He assigned Rowan to dig deeper into the official’s ties with the movement and come back with emails or text messages. (In a recent interview, the sheriff told me that he declined an offer to join the Oath Keepers but that he’s known “quite a few” members and thinks “they’re generally good people.” Coates has periodically contacted him about issues like firearms rules that Coates believes are unconstitutional, the sheriff said. “If I agree, I contact the attorney general’s office.”)

Claiming to work on “a communication strategy for reaching out to law enforcement,” Williams then goaded AP3 members into bragging about their police connections. They told him about their ties with high-ranking officers in Missouri and in Louisiana, in Texas and in Tennessee.

The revelations terrified him. “When this gets out, I think I’m probably going to flee overseas,” he said in his diary. “They have too many connections.” What if a cop ally helped militants track him down? “I don’t think I can safely stay within the United States.”

Four days later, he tuned into a Zoom seminar put on by a fellow AP3 leader. It was a rambling and sparsely attended meeting. But 45 minutes in, a woman brought up an issue in her Virginia hometown, population 23,000.

The town’s vice mayor, a proud election denier, was under fire for a homophobic remark. She believed a local reporter covering the controversy was leading a secret far-left plot. What’s more, the reporter happened to be her neighbor. To intimidate her, she said, he’d been leaving dead animals on her lawn.

“I think I have to settle a score with this guy,” she concluded. “They’re getting down to deep state local level and it’s got to be stopped.” After the call, Williams went to turn off his recording device. “Well, that was fucking insane,” he said aloud.

He soon reached out to the woman to offer his advice. Maybe he could talk her down, Williams thought, or at least determine what she meant by settling a score. But she wasn’t interested in speaking with him. So again he faced a choice: do nothing or risk his cover being blown. He finally came to the same conclusion he had the last time he’d feared journalists were in jeopardy. On March 31, he sent an anonymous warning.

“Because she is a member of a right wing militia group and is heavily armed, I wanted to let you know,” Williams wrote to the reporter. “I believe her to be severely mentally ill and I believe her to be dangerous. For my own safety, I cannot reveal more.”

He saw the article the next morning. The journalist had published 500 words about the disturbing email he’d gotten, complete with a screenshot of Williams’ entire note. Only a few people had joined that meandering call. Surely only Williams pestered the woman about it afterwards. There could be little doubt that he was the mole.

He pulled the go bag from his closet and fled. A few days later, while on the run, Williams recorded the final entries in his diary. Amid the upheaval, he sounded surprised to feel a sense of relief: “I see the light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in two and a half years.”

Coda: Project 2025

It was seven days before the 2024 presidential election. Williams had insisted I not bring my phone, on the off chance my movements were being tracked. We were finally meeting for the first time, in a city that he asked me not to disclose. He entered the cramped hotel room wearing a camo hat, hiking shoes and a “Spy vs. Spy” comic strip T-shirt. “Did you pick the shirt to match the occasion?” I asked. He laughed. “Sometimes I can’t help myself.”

We talked for days, with Williams splayed across a Best Western office chair beside the queen bed. He evoked an aging computer programmer with 100 pounds of muscle attached, and he seemed calmer than on the phone, endearingly offbeat. The vision he laid out — of his own future and of the country’s — was severe.

After he dropped everything and went underground, Williams spent a few weeks in the desert. He threw his phone in a river, flushed documents down the toilet and switched apartments when he returned to civilization. At first, he spent every night by the door ready for an attack; if anyone found him and ambushed him, it’d happen after dark, he figured. No one ever came, and he began to question if he’d needed to flee at all. The insomnia of his undercover years finally abated. He began to sketch out the rest of his life.

Initially, he hoped to connect with lawmakers in Washington, helping them craft legislation to combat the militia movement. By last summer, those ambitions had waned. Over time, he began to wrestle with his gift for deceiving people who trusted him. “I don’t necessarily like what it says about me that I have a talent for this,” he said.

To me, it seemed that the ordeal might be starting to change him. He’d become less precise in consistently adhering to the facts in recent weeks, I thought, more grandiose in his account of his own saga. But then for long stretches, he’d speak with the same introspection and attention to detail that he showed on our first calls. His obsession with keeping the Tyre Nichols protestors safe was myopic, he told me, a case of forgetting the big picture to quash the few dangers he could control.

Williams believes extremists will try to murder him after this story is published. And if they fail, he thinks he’ll “live to see the United States cease to exist.” He identifies with the violent abolitionist John Brown, who tried to start a slave revolt two years before the American Civil War and was executed. Williams thinks he himself may not be seen as such a radical soon, he told me. “I wonder if I’m maybe a little too early.”

I’d thought Williams was considering a return to a quiet life. Our two intense years together had been a strain sometimes even for me. But in the hotel room, he explained his plans for future operations against militias: “Until they kill me, this is what I’m doing.” He hopes to inspire others to follow in his footsteps and even start his own vigilante collective, running his own “agents” inside the far right.

In August, I published my investigation into AP3. (I used his records but did not otherwise rely on Williams as an anonymous source.) It was a way of starting to lay out what I’d learned since his first email: what’s driving the growth of militias, how they keep such a wide range of people united, the dangerous exploits that they’ve managed to keep out of public view.

Two months later, Williams published an anonymous essay. He revealed that he’d infiltrated the group as an “independent activist” and had sent me files. He wanted to test how the militia would respond to news of a mole.

The result was something he long had hoped for: a wave of paranoia inside AP3. “It’s a fucking risky thing we get involved in,” Seddon, the group’s founder, said in a private message. “Fucking trust nobody. There’s fucking turncoats everywhere.” (Seddon declined to comment for this story. He then sent a short follow-up email: “MAGA.”)

Sowing that distrust is why Williams is going on the record, albeit without his original name. He still plans to release thousands of files after this article is published — evidence tying sheriffs and police officers to the movement, his proudest coup, plus other records he hopes could become ammo for lawsuits. But Williams wants to let his former comrades know “a faggot is doing this to them.” He thinks his story could be his most effective weapon.

Every time militia members make a phone call, attend a meeting or go to a gun range together, he wants them “to be thinking, in the back of their heads, ‘This guy will betray me.’”

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leafcreature · 4 months ago

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Curiosity January - Day 2 - Clock

#image description in alt #curiosity january 2025 #art challenge #my art #illustration #linogravure #linocut #outer wilds #outer wilds art #curiosity cabinet #oddities #clock #horologium #solar system

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mimorugk · 1 month ago

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Inquisitor's Question of the Day - part 1

Reuploading my IQOTD from Bluesky to Tumblr. There're 43 questions in here, that I've been answering since January 2025. It's such a fun activity to build my Inquisitor and introduce him to people. All question belong to Bambi (arhimharellan on Bsky). Warning for super long post and strong language.

What is your Inquisitor's name? Does it have a special meaning?

“Hoang” means “gold” in his mother side’s language, an dying tongue that his mother no longer speaks. Gold is also house Trevelyan’s color. As a name, Hoang also means bright as the sun and precious as gold.

2. What is your Inquisitor's class? Does it reflect their personality in any way?

Hoang was raised to be either a Templar or a Chantry brother. He didn’t ask to turned out a mage, nor the Herald. But Knight Enchanter is the something he chose for himself.

It's the family default that Hoang has to learn sword fighting when he was young. He likes it and actually not bad at it. I supposed mages aren’t allowed owning swords in Circles, so Hoang could only spar a bit as a work out. He’s been using a staff until learning about Knight enchanters.

3. How would you describe your Inquisitor’s personality?

Kind, caring, well-mannered, curious, and a people pleaser. He can be quite jealous and competitive, especially when someone has it easy while he has to work so hard. He’s also a perfectionist and wields magic with cautious, instead of pride and style like Vivienne and Dorian. Usually, he’s good with putting on a brave face, acting calm and sophisticate even though he’s nervous most of the time.

All of this because of his sheltered life, his abandonment issue and the way he was raised. Deep down Hoang’s just a vulnerable, insecure man, who’s trying to survive, who cares too much about people.

4. What is your Inquisitor's relationship like with their family?

Complicated. He was conceived before his father married his mom officially, who is a commoner, so Hoang never felt welcomed. It doesn’t help when he’s a mage in a devoted Andrastian/Templar family. At first, visits was frequent. Throughout the years, time between visits start to get longer, letters are no longer responded. Then he was left all by himself. Hoang believes Bann Trevelyan already found out about his son's preference for men. Still, Hoang can't hate his parents, and love his half siblings, sure they feel the same. It’s just the shame, the pain, the mistakes keep piling up and was never resolved. Family is such a complicated thing.

5. Did your Inquisitor have any lovers prior to the events of the game?

Hoang had little experience with romance. It's hard to believe a 30 year-old man like him never had a serious relationship. Sure he has eyes on some fellow mages, even templars when he was in the Circle, but never acted on it, as it is against the rules, and it’s wrong. The closest he could get to a romance is being the sparring partner of a male templar he liked.

Hoang has feelings he couldn’t tell. Desire, needs, and wants he couldn’t name. But Hoang pushed them all down and sometimes the result is a hand down his pants in the quiet of his dorm room.

6. Does your Inquisitor believe that what happened was destiny or a fluke?

Hoang’s been an Andrastian his whole life. He believed in Andraste, in the Maker. He believed than someone has to be chosen, but why *him*? There’s nothing about him that’s worthy. As the events of Inquisition happened, Hoang’s belief started to shake.

7. What drew your Inquisitor to their love interest?

It’s curiosity, turns admiration then attraction. The Iron Bull is everything Hoang isn’t, and that draws him in. Hoang's whole life has been living as how others expected of him, many not even see him as a person, but Bull never treated him as such.

Bull sees through the mage, hangs out with him like one of his friends, and for the first time, Hoang could be comfortable as himself without shame. He doesn't even care if it's just an act by the Ben-Hassrath agent. Then he learns about the vulnerable man behind that casual façade.

They provide each other comfort, keeping the other grounded. They can be who they really are, and complete each other.

8. Who does your Inquisitor struggle to get along with? Why?

A little bit of most people. Mostly, it was Leliana because she’s kinda scary. His first impression on Dorian was great but as soon as he commented about southern mages and slavery…eh. Fortunately, everyone ended up in good terms, except Solas, of course.

9. What religion/philosophy does your Inquisitor believe in?

Hoang was Andrastian for most of his life. He turned away from it after Trespasser and has been an atheist for years by the time of Veilguard. Atheist not in the sense of “I don’t believe Gods exist” but “You might be a god but I don’t worship you and you are not above any of us.”

10. Who is your Inquisitor closest to? Why?

Josie since they’re both nobles and feel related to each other. Hoang likes listening to her gossip and ramble (he’s also a rambler himself). Since he’s the youngest of the Trevelyans, hanging out with Josie feels like having a little sister he never had. They still write to each other years later.

Next must be Cassandra and Vivienne. Hoang admires Cass greatly. Vivienne to him is like a mentor and somewhat a mother figure.

10. Did your Inquisitor side with the mages or the templars? Why?

Templars is the easy answer. Some of the mages were his colleagues but he didn’t know the others. Considering when things happened, a mage is always behind it. However, he knows Templars, he knows what they can do, having being raised among them. Most importantly, he knows magic has is dangerous especially when in the wrong hands, in this case the Venatori. Hoang’s plan is to get to the Templars first, then come back to deal with the mages, a plan that would failed.

11. Does your Inquisitor believe they are the Herald of Andraste?

Hoang denies it all the time, but sometimes he really hopes he was chosen. That he deserves it. That he’s good enough. That everything he’s been through finally means something.

12. What is your Inquisitor's first impression of their advisers?

He warms up to Josephine right away, since they’ve met each other once or twice when they were children. He was cautious about Leliana, because, well, she’s Leliana. She scares him sometimes. Cullen, it’s the respect toward a Templar.

13. Why did your Inquisitor take on the title?

Hoang has no other choice. After Haven, he just wanted to help people, and hoped to redeem the mistake that caused countless mages to die. Plus, it was expected of him, and he always fulfills his duty despite how draining it is, been doing it his whole life.

There’s another reason Hoang won’t admit. He hoped this title could help him become someone else, someone matters, other than “the son Bann Trevelyan doesn’t talk about.”

14. Who did your Inquisitor side with during the events of Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts? Why?

Celene on the throne with Briala because Hoang doesn’t trust Gaspard to not invade the Ferelden when he has the power. Still, it was a tough decision and no one win. Hoang thought he was well prepared, that he had the skills to play the Game but shit he was wrong. I mean he was alright, but not that good.

He had to rely a lot on his companions and advisors. Earlier Hoang asked Bull for a dance but by the end of it the guy was too tired, so they just hang out on the balcony and ate the snacks Bull brought. Fuck Orlais and its politic, glad that he’s not from there.

15. What did your Inquisitor decide to do with the Grey Wardens at Adamant? Why?

Recruiting the Wardens. They were at war, there’s a split in the sky, they need every hand possible. Why would the Wardens be punished for their leader’s fault? The Warden were vulnerable, they needed to rebuild, not punishment.

16. Which events of the game affected your Inquisitor the most? Why?

What happened in Redcliffe. Mages, children included are dead, enslaved, corrupted. If he could be faster, choose better... His first big mission and he already fucked it up. What left in Hoang were regret and guilt, that's one of the reasons that made him took in the role Inquisitor.

Falling in love with Bull. When he learned how not to be ashamed of himself and embrace who he is, slowly.

Remember how Hoang wanted to believe that he was chosen? That he matters and everything was worth it? Well that went to the drain after Adamant. He doesn't know what he is anymore.

Losing his faith throughout the events. His family's devoted, he used to sing the Chant with his parents and siblings every night. When he was lonely in the Circle, when he didn't know what to do, he prayed to Andraste and the Maker. Now it's all a lie and none of it matters.

Trespasser, his breaking point. Everything that he's been bottled up, everything he suffered, everything came down and exploded. Hoang disbanded the Inquisition, released himself from duty and released people who served him. It's time for them to rest, and it's time for him to let go.

17. What is your Inquisitor's preferred mount? Why?

Horses is Hoang's thing. They are on Trevelyan's heraldry and everything. Little Hoang watched his father taking care of them, his older siblings sparred on them. He awed at them at the Grand Tourney. He has an Amaranthine Charger named Shae but unfortunately had to leave her behind after Trespasser.

He preferred to stay lowkey, and having a rare horse and a metal arm is huge giveaway. After trespasser, Hoang uses a Fereldan Forder for travelling.

18. Did your Inquisitor drink from the Well of Sorrows? Why or why not?

No. First, it's not something Hoang think he has the right to claim. Second, having the Anchor isn't enough already? Cole and Sera had made the most sense here.

19. Where does your Inquisitor spend most of their time in Haven? Why?

Just anywhere not his room. Early the game, Hoang was used to the dull Circle life, so he tried to find familiarity in Haven, like a routine. He usually goes in Josphine's office to borrow books. He would stop at the stable to pet horses, and the chantry sometimes for prayer.

From the stable, he could watch soldiers, Cass and Cullen, but he doesn't have to talk to them, so it's less lonely from just having people around. Also, the stable is dangerously close to a certain person's tent.

20. Does Varric give your Inquisitor a nickname? Why or why not?

At first it’s only Herald and Inquisitor, later one when Hoang said he just wants Varric being his friend, he started calling him ‘Dimples’. Because, well, the dimples when he smiles. Hoang would take that over ‘Inquisitorialness’.

21. Does your Inquisitor side more often with Leliana, Josephine, or Cullen? Why?

Josie works overtime 😭. Because Hoang trusts her and she goes well with his people pleaser tendency. Leliana is when he needs to be tougher but discreet, to not risk their reputation. Cullen has the least use since his way isn’t align with Hoang’s. Overall it spreads quite even between them.

22. Where does your Inquisitor spend most of their time in Skyhold? Why?

Hoang doesn’t like tight, dark space. Unlike Haven, his Skyhold room is huge, which means he spends more time there doing paperwork. If not his room or the war table, Hoang’s on the move. He has a routine he likes to keep, but comparing to Haven, he’s been venturing out more from his comfort.

He goes from places to places, checking on people and offers help, keeping himself useful, basically just overworking. Hoang still pick up books from the library and stops by the stable. Also, he’s been going to the tavern for obvious reason, even though it’s always so chaotic and crowded.

The garden is nice to stay for few minutes, and the battlements is for brooding. I like to think Bull has to lay on top of him, using his body weight to keep Hoang from getting up, just so he can have 10 more minutes of sleep.

23. What would the Nightmare demon have said to your Inquisitor to rattle them the most?

"The family's shame and now a fraud. You never matter, never done anything right. Ah,that's why they abandoned you. Worthless of a man. Are you even a man? Soon, you'll bring them to destruction, then I’ll devour you. I'm sure your whore mother would be proud."

24. What’s your Inquisitor's favorite location to travel to? Why?

Val Royeaux. It lies on the coast of the Waking Sea, has warmer climate with ocean breeze just like Ostwick, so it feels like home. The people are horrible, but the goods are nice to look at. Plus, they have his favorite Antivan wine.

25. Does your Inquisitor take any specific companions with them? Why?

Blackwall, Bull and Sera my beloved 😭😭 Sometimes Cassandra or Vivienne would take Blackwall’s spot. Varric or Cole would take Sera’s. Bull is a permanent member for obvious reason.

26. What motivates your Inquisitor the most?

It’s been validation for a long time. Don't get him wrong, Hoang cares a lot about others, he thrives for people’s well being and justice. But validation and to be wanted is a part of it. It stays deep down inside him and been there the longest. Sadly living to uphold others’ expectation only gets you so far.

At some point he’s lost himself, he exists like an empty shell, doubting his purpose. When Hoang was dragged back into the role in Veilguard, it’s like a nightmare coming back, but he must face it. Now he wants freedom, he wants peace, and Solas the only thing in between. This time he’s prepared.

27. What animal do you associate with your Inquisitor?

This is cliché but I did some personality tests as Hoang, and most of the results are dog. Golden retriever. Loyal, needs close relationships, needs to please others, full of compassion and empathy, doesn’t like changes. I would just keep it until I can think of another animal.

28. What’s your Inquisitor's least favorite location to travel to? Why?

Emprise du Lion. Hoang's mom migrated from south Tevinter, he was born and raised in Ostwick, a city by the ocean. He’s not built for snow and ice. Haven and Skyhold weather is tolerable but EdL is just horrible. He's wrapped in layers of fur it's difficult to move while Bull has his tits out, it's unfair. Fallow Mire gets an honorable mention for obvious reason.

29. What did your Inquisitor choose to do during Iron Bull’s quest?

Something inside Hoang screamed for just sacrificing the Chargers. As Inquisitor, with that much power, you need to make decision nobody can, suffer things nobody can endure. But Hoang Trevelyan isn't a good Inquisitor.

Hoang and Bull share the similarity of being seen as a tool, a symbol. He understands how important it is to find people who's true to you. The Chargers are Bull's family, and Hoang's people. Besides, Hoang has lost too many lives, he couldn't bear to do that to Bull, a man who is so important to him.

He had fear this decision has consequences, but coming back to Herald's Rest, seeing the man he has a crush on drinking and laughing with his found family. Maybe he can endure this consequence. 30. What are some random facts about your Inquisitor?

Accidentally flirted with Cassandra, which led to an awkward convo. It was a misunderstanding.

Favorite desert is Antivan lemon cake, would share it with his horse. Mom's egg tart is also a fav but he hasn't had it in years.

Tried different hobbies but not really stick with one, ended up picking knitting somewhere end-game since he can do that while working, and it's functional.

Competitive when he was a teen. Hoang ruined a classmate’s potion so his can be the best in class. Little fucker got away with it, but did NOT get the highest score.

Clean freak. Hoang dusts the chair before sitting, even brings his own utensil to taverns. Got stared at by his companions the first time he pulled them out.

Loves romance novels, even smutty ones. There was a phrase where he took novels in his dorm room to read through the night, then started fantasizing. He won’t tell anyone, and he will not read them in the open like Cassandra. A noble Inquisitor needs to appear ‘sophisticated’. Then Cole knows, Josie knows, then Dorian. And once they know, everyone know. Cassandra just smirks.

31. What could someone say to your Inquisitor that would hurt them the most?

When he was a child it’s “Why can't you be more like your brother and sister?". Now he’s heard enough from strangers to be bother. It stings, but easily dismissed. However, if the people he cares about say things similar to what Nightmare said, it’s over. It’s not about what is said to him, but about who said it.

32. What is your Inquisitor most self-conscious about?

The good: His look. Doesn’t have the suave but definitely easy on the eyes.

The bad: How easy it is for him to be nervous. His cautiousness when he wields magic, which roots in lack of confidence. How privileged and sheltered he was before Inquisition, which took him awhile to be conscious about.

33. Does your Inquisitor have any special talents outside of fighting?

His ability to focus. As a noble Hoang is well educated, and he wants to be good at everything (fear of not being good enough), so he tried different hobbies. Not a lot of them stand out, but he realizes he can focus really well. That makes him reads faster and uses magic better, making up for the nervousness.

He also likes to pay attention to small details no one cares about. Back in the Circles, he would noticed the change in hairstyles, jewelries on women and compliments them. Niche but Hoang can recognizes the taste of different bottle of wine. If you swap his favorite wine with a similar one he will know.

34. What does your Inquisitor do for fun in their free time?

Free time sounds luxury. Plus, Hoang feels empty if he doesn't do anything. Even in the Circle he still find thing to do. So usually he'd make himself useful, pick up new skills, practice old ones.

He also likes to spend time with his inner circle (they make sure he don't die from overwork). But really, Hoang misses Ostwick. If he had time and can go home right now, Hoang would take Shae the horse for a ride from the hill to the beach and probably just try sitting there. And breathe.

I suppose Hoang is the type of person who has to keep themselves active. If he stops and lies down, he would never wants to wake up, because he doesn't realize how burned out he is.

35. How does your Inquisitor feel about the Tevinter Imperium?

Like most southerners, Hoang holds resentments against the Imperium, not just political, but also personal reason. His mother was still a babe when her parent fled Tevinter to the Marches. Stories about evil magisters destroyed her village and used people for blood magic sticks with Hoang. They also contributes to his fear of magic. Hoang turns out a mage is just ironic. He hates its culture and government, and he *tried* to be fair with people from Tevinter. Discussions with Dorian were awkward. Took him nerves to not be angry when slavery and blood mages were brought up.

Hoang warmed up to Dorian eventually, now that he knows they have the same family problem (homophobia 💕) and share a lot in common.

Bonus lore: There was no mages in Lady Trevelyan’s village nor her bloodline (maybe 1 or 2, but it's been so long since the last one). Therefore her hometown is at the bottom of social hierarchy (above elves since they’re human). Local noble family want their land, and they were considered disposable, hence the destroy of the village.

36. Does your Inquisitor take the time to hunt the dragons in Thedas?

Dragons scared the shit out of Hoang, but ever since Iron Bull told him about the dragon tooth necklace, well guess he has to hunt one now. People do dumb things when they’re in love, and Hoang was so pathetically in love.

He actually enjoyed the hunt, it’s the adrenaline rush. The celebration with Bull is a great bonus, especially when Bull slipped and called Hoang kadan, really made him want to get on his knees and...uh..pray. If Hoang can kill a dragon, he feels like he can do anything.

They hunt dragons when they’re a danger to the area, which is most of the time. His party switches up between Sera, Blackwall, Cole, Viviene and Cassandra with Bull as the permanent one. He loves seeing Bull happy. And, gazing at Hoang's ass and thighs as his coat tail flipped up, while dragon blood spilled everywhere, makes Bull happy.

37. Did your Inquisitor try to impress the court at the Winter Palace? Why or why not?

Hoang did. The Inquisition needs all support it can get, and as his responsibility, Hoang will get it. He even practiced ahead of time with Vivienne and Josie. Viv offered to help with the dancing since it’s been so long. Hoang actually isn't bad at dancing nor the Game especially after 2 wines for confidence boost.

Unfortunately despite how much he tried, Orlais still bite him in the ass 2 years later.

38. Who was your Inquisitor most excited to see again during the events of Trespasser? Why?

Thom. Hoang writes to the others once in awhile, and Bull sticks around between jobs, but he hasn't heard from Thom for so long. It hurts Hoang when discovering his lies, since he admired that man so much. It hurts him even more sending Thom to the Wardens, knowing he'll die eventually, but it must be done. It was a relief that Thom's doing well. Hoang picked up knitting during this time, a hobby he actually enjoys and can do during work, so he brought Thom a little griffon plush. Next is Cole, since the kid seem to struggle with being human.

39. Was your Inquisitor surprised by the reveal of Solas being the Dread Wolf?

Yes and no. Hoang has suspicion, now everything makes sense. Still, mostly anger and feeling betrayed that took over him at the moment. He has every right to, because someone who he spent the first moment of this journey with, someone who called Hoang A TRUE FRIEND, is also the one behind all this.

Solas’s plan angered him the most. He’s the final straw that broke all of Hoang’s patience and tolerance. Oh to think 10 years later when Rook asked about the Inquisitor, Solas still only sees him as “useful”, as if there wasn't anything between them.

40. If your Inquisitor could have one wish, what would it be?

To live like a normal person, no title, no politic. It might sounds selfish, but despite the world needs fixing, he won't be that person anymore. Guess wishes are just wishes.

41. How did your Inquisitor feel about Mother Giselle?

Hoang was honored to have her. He was raised Andrastian, so he respects someone like her. Giselle's been a real help. She made Hoang almost believe he was the Herald. Until he heard the rumors. It's the first time Hoang talked back to a Mother, defending Dorian and himself.

It was jarring and anxious for Hoang, since he's been keeping his preference secret (mostly). After that he remained professional, but tried to avoid her. Giselle isn't a bad person at the core, but he doesn't feel comfortable talking to her anymore.

42. From the beginning of Inquisition to the end of Veilguard, did your Inquisitor's view on Solas change?

Drastically. Hoang respects Solas and learns a lot about magic from him. His POV is fresh, nothing Hoang's ever heard in the Circle. He wouldn't consider Solas a close friend, but a friend nonetheless, and the elf's feeling seem to be mutual. Hoang was wrong. After Trespasser, all Hoang has left was anger.

10 years later, the anger is less intense, but the fire is still there. He deems Solas to be beyond saving and nothing can convince him otherwise. Varric was the proof of it.

43. If your Inquisitor could change one decision they made during the events of the game, what would it be?

He wouldn't bother kissing that many ass in Orlais, and if he can have one more, he would order Leliana to not kill that spy. Hoang was nervous, wondering if he even had the say, he didn't know how things work during those first days, so he stepped aside. When she brought that up later, it hurts. Now she seems fine, but he knows it's his fault that she's hardened.

#Hoang Trevelyan #inquisitor trevelyan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #IQOTD #dai

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