#I mean it has its ups and downs but I can learn to deal with it if I proposed it to myself

[spiraling-stardust]

I have a habit of imagining ways that act 5 could have gone differently, and in doing that I ended up coming up with this AU. Basically, Siffrin is a ghost, and he and Mal du Pays are following the party and occasionally helping them out from behind the scenes as they deal with the aftermath.

During the fight against Mal du Pays in act 5, the rest of the party doesn’t make it in time, and Siffrin gives up on his wish and kind of just. Dies. For real this time. Mal du Pays takes form, and then it finishes off the King itself and runs off right before the party arrives to see what’s left. It ends up encountering Siffrin who is now a ghost, and starts following them around, so I guess they’ll be watching the rest of the party together now.

Mal du Pays is… More tame in this AU? Still a little shit, but not as much now that it actually took form. It’ll say some stuff that Siffrin would definitely not take well, but it’s not necessarily being intentionally malicious, it’s just in its nature as a Sadness. Like how a cat doesn’t shred furniture to be mean, it’s just a cat. Still sucks though. Since “homesickness” is the feeling at its core, it often becomes fixated on anything potentially related to “home”, and since family was also like “home” to Siffrin but still felt impossible to keep, this resulted in Mal’s interest in the rest of the party and its unwillingness to attack them and only them… and also its clinginess. The damned thing will not go away.

Siffrin is still very much coming down from the act 5 shitstorm at the start. They didn’t learn to talk about their problems, and they’re still under the impression that their family hates them. And on top of that, he’s actually genuinely dead now! He can see through himself, he always seems to glow a little, and he has to concentrate just to pick something up. Eventually some of these problems will improve, either through practice or by observing his family, but it’s definitely a lot to recover from and adjust to… And it’ll take awhile since he’s also gotta keep the Sadness he created from attacking strangers and deal with the stuff it pulls on him.

The rest of the party is still dealing with the aftermath, and have no clue they’re being watched (yet). Loop sort of joins the group in Siffrin’s place, and there’s a lot of 2hats-related issues from that (the whole situation is complicated, they didn’t even want to be there but stardust had to go and die and… oh. Maybe they still have a place among them as someone else? Cue the spiral of internal conflict). Lots of pain and suffering to go around, but I promise it’s not all just misery!! There’s some shenanigans, comfort, and even some fluff mixed in there! I swear! In fact there’s a pretty good amount of shenanigans. An actor joins the stage crew… Chaos may ensue hehehe

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[mylove-thresher]

most goated day in history

[bmpmp3]

passes away forever

[lalunanymph]

THE MAKING OF A MRS.

🗝️ LESSON 1: BECOMING MRS. QIN

shackled to sylus and stuck in the N109 zone and with no way of leaving until you figure out how to remove the aether core bond between the two of you, you take up his offer (and begrudging help) to try and blend in with his high-stakes, high-rewards life. how? by learning struggling to be his wife

ᥫ᭡ fem!reader, arranged marriage, slow burn, contract marriage, fluff, crack, we stress sylus out so badly....

ᥫ᭡ dawn says: hehe im so EXCITED to share this like u have no idea </3 fluff/crack for arranged marriage is something i've always wanted to explore and this idea is perfect to take a dive in 🥹 i hope u all loved this as much as i had fun writing it <3 ps: no steamy parts... yet 🫣

⇢ ˗ˏˋ main directory | lesson 2

“What do you mean I should chop off my hand?” 

Your seething and refusal to submit to his suggestion draws the first pulse of a migraine in Sylus’ right temple. 

Taking refuge back in his mansion after the Salon Hotel explosion, his face is pale amidst the black upholstery, though his grimace never falters. The air is ripe with tension, and you try for the umpteenth time to free your wrist from the morose reality of being shackled to one dangerous and trigger happy Onychinus leader.

You can tell he isn’t exactly thrilled by this new development as well, his jaw tight and ruby eyes flickering to your face, simmering with irritation.

But, he tempers down his vexation, preferring to think forward.

As a marked man since time immemorial, he’s never had the privilege to sit around and revel in misery; always working one step forward on the chess board while he peels his glinting eyes towards the bigger picture.

And right now, there is only one variable he can foresee until this little mess gets sorted.

Sylus’ lips curl into a smirk, and you can tell he has a potentially life threatening idea brewing in that sick mind of his. As much as you try to figure it out, predicting his behavior is out of your reach. One could never tell where a flame was going to fall and explode into a blaze.

“We will stay here and figure it out,” he promises. “In the meantime, I want to strike a deal.”

Your scowl is adorable, if a little uncalled for in a moment like this. When Sylus told you the both of you were more alike than you would think, he never anticipated actually having to be in your vicinity 24/7. 

“Do not show your claws to me like that, kitten,” he mutters curtly. “It was not I who was hellbent on locating the Aether core.”

Your glare gives way to confusion when he stands, tugging you along for the ride.

“Hey—where are we going?”

You huff and try to keep up with him, your right hand dangling limply in front of you as you struggle to match his longer strides.

Sylus doesn’t reply, his gaze locked in the front, mind a million miles away.

You don’t open your mouth again, not sure what to expect when he leads you right into his office. There, on his desk, is a stack of papers, and you have no choice but to hover beside him as he takes out what looks like a declaration form.

Squinting, you try to make out the words, but from your vantage point that’s blocked by the back of his head leaning absurdly close to the document, you can hardly tell what he’s scribbling.

“As it is, the N109 Zone is already a dangerous place for its civilians and made even worse for a Linkon citizen to be caught here.” He stands, tucking the paper into his coat pocket. The sudden movement inadvertently tugs you forward so your chest brushes against his sternum. Locks of frosty white hair fall into his face, tips brushing the highest points of his cheekbones.

You tear your eyes away, clearing your throat. “And?”

You wait for him to continue. Sylus doesn’t.

Instead, he heaves in a deep breath, and you raise your head, thrown off guard by the sheen of pain in his eyes. They waver upon you with such a lonesome, tragic veneer you think he’s about to announce his departure from this world.

Not—

“In order to keep you and my interests safe, we have to concoct a plausible story for everyone to believe. Having you constantly around me is not only a liability, but people will start to conspire.” He exhales a deep sigh. “Which is why I have drafted a document to bind us together in marriage for the remainder of your... unfortunate stay here in the N109 Zone.”

His words trickle with condescension, though you’re completely hung up on the singular one which makes you pause and double back.

“What?” You’re all but shrieking. “Sylus, are you saying you’re going to make me marry you?”

He winces slightly at the sharpness of your trill. Sighing, he brushes an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder, looking unimpressed.

“What I am saying, little hunter,” his lips curl into a sardonic smirk. “Is that until we figure out how to overcome this minor inconvenience together—” Sylus lifts his left hand, purposely dangling your right hand in his face much to your squawk of dismay that barely fazes him. “We have to prove our marriage is believable. Or else, you and I will suffer the consequences.”

He mutters those words with such finality, it’s hard not to envision guns hidden right in the shadows, their barrels trained right on your susceptible foreheads.

You shiver and don’t speak for a moment. Sylus drops his hand, stepping back until the invisible shackle can’t allow anymore give, gracefully providing you some personal space to work through this grave solution.

“Say I agree—”

“There is no room for objection,” he interjects firmly. “We have no other choice, kitten.”

Your mouth thins, a line of discomposure that he doesn’t miss. It’s not that you don’t agree with his idea, it’s just the execution would possibly squeeze all the sanity out of you.

You don’t know Sylus. You can’t trust yourself to handle such a dangerous man. Perhaps, death would be a kinder alternative than navigating such baffling terrains with a man who for all intents and purposes, has just tried to blow you up a few hours ago. 

He sighs, as if reading your mind. “Such an arrangement is unconventional. But, in order to make this work, we would need a few ground rules here.” 

Sylus starts before you can interrupt him.

“We will have a safeword to signal when either of us—most likely you—is in danger. I vouch for ‘bullet’.”

Despite the horrors of this situation, you manage a snort. “I can’t take that word seriously—knowing you, a gun will always be in the picture.”

His expression twists with something akin to humor. Sylus arranges it back into neutral waters, gazing at you with a look of veiled curiosity. “Alright then, you smart little cookie. What would you suggest?”

You tap on the tip of your nose to think, going back and forth until you settle on something innocuous yet also obvious.

“‘Guts’,” you finally murmur. He raises a brow. 

“So, ‘bullets’ is out of the question, but somehow, ‘guts’ make perfect sense? Are you desperately pinning all your hopes on me to never mutilate a body?”

The mental image of Sylus covered in gore up to his arms while you’re still cuffed helplessly next to him, makes you shiver.

“Then, have you ever considered not mutilating someone while I’m shackled to you?” 

He pauses for a moment longer than necessary. “Fine,” the white-haired devil finally agrees. “You're dreadfully boring, kitten. But, I concede. No mutilating people while we're shackled together. Next.” Sylus clears his throat, and makes to cross his arms, but that just draws you closer to him, your feet stumbling forward.

Frowning, he drops them, tilting his head back with a godawful deep sigh.

“Bed,” he says past gritted teeth. “And bathroom requirements. I would personally prefer for us not to be within an arms’ reach while we’re doing our business.”

The mental image of him hunched over the toilet bowl, face all scrunched up as he’s suffering from morning bowel movements while you’re there, uncomfortably in the background, makes it impossible to stifle a giggle. 

“Oh, so you think that is funny?” He arches his brow again. “What if you had an emergency, hmm? Would you still be this mirthful if you knew that I know what your… excretions… sound like?”

The fact that a foreboding, tall and dangerous man like Sylus Qin has just uttered the word ‘excretions’ in a sentence makes it impossible for you to contain your laughter. You double over, wiping tears from your eyes; he probably thinks you’ve already lost it.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly repressing the trauma such a mental image branded into him, and forces himself to move on. 

“When we pretend to be husband and wife, our proximity would make sense. We could go into bathrooms together—sleep together. No one will know the—”

“Wait,” your composure returns after being doused with that shocking cold news. “A-are you saying we have to sleep on the same bed?” 

Sylus looks at you like you're a toddler who was asked to stop chewing dirt. “Unless you have a cheap parlour trick to physically regenerate your hand after chopping it off, then, yes,” he answers curtly. “We have to share a bed—isn't it wonderful?"

The bathroom is one thing—such gross indecencies barely phase you after months of being forced to sleep in a cramped dorm room with over 20 other female Hunter trainees. It’s the idea of your bed—your oasis—being tainted by his presence that pushes your nerves into overdrive.

You can hardly trust a knife to him without imagining it stuck somewhere in someone’s ribs, much less your vulnerable state while you were asleep.

The energy chain hums between you two, seeming to pick up on your despair.

Sylus purses his lips. “Look, kitten. I myself am hardly a fan of this arrangement. However, certain measures need to be taken to make things easy and as pain-free as possible for the both of us. We have to accept that we’re no longer individuals, but a team.” 

He steamrolls past your protests, shushing you with his next words. “An unconventional team of four feet, four limbs, two brains. Four eyes. We are not two people—but one. The sooner you accept it, sweetie, the faster we can resolve this problem. Do you understand me?”

There’s nothing else you can add or subtract without taking away the shittiness of this situation—you’re locked in with him, for better or for worse.

“Okay,” you muster enough courage to mutter. “Four feet, four limbs, two brains, four eyes. Got it.”

Sylus gives a nod, moving briskly into business.

“The first thing we shall do is this—” 

He removes the earlier document from his coat pocket, smoothing it out onto the large blackwood desk so you can read it. “These are the terms and conditions of a standard N109 Zone wedding. Unlike the tedious traditions of Linkon, there are no witnesses needed here. No tea ceremony, either. In fact, as proof of how easy it is, we can commence to be wedded right here and now. All you need to do is sign here and here, and we’re done.”

Sylus has already scrawled his signature under the agreement, and right underneath it, an empty dotted line yawns, waiting for your consent.

A pen materializes right by your hand. The dark mist of his Evol is cold when it brushes against your skin, retreating after procuring your one-way ticket to hell.

You pick it up, pulling back on the energy bond so you can use your dominant hand to sign this damning agreement. 

One loop. A scratch.

And it’s done.

It's a mockery of your wildest imagination. 

You're now a married woman, and next to you, looking forlorn and cross, is your brand new husband.

— reblogs and feedback is appreciated <33 i appreciate all ur support <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, take elements of my story and claim it as yours. i strictly do not allow translations of my works across other platforms.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hii, I love your works so much, so after a while of reading I decided to make a request.<3

Can I please get a mushroom pie (so preferably EtL), pull-apart bread and a souffle, along with a side of sparkling water and dark hot chocolate? For Max Verstappen please!

bakery menu

want to request an order? then check out the menu! there are all kinds of items to choose from. thank you to everyone who has submitted orders over the past almost two months i've been writing these! they're a lot of fun and what ya'll come up with is amazing! so thank you! for this order in particular, i am liking what i'm seeing. i had to google that 'etl' was because i didn't know. and it's enemies-to-lovers! so perfect! i hope you enjoy!

mushroom pie ("if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + souffle (i'll be gentle.") + sparkling water (gentle sex) + dark hot chocolate (sub!reader) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, enemies-to-lovers, redbull mechanic!reader, gentle sex, sub!reader, dom/sub, praise kink, max's pace is gentle but his words are mean, car sex, misuse of an f1 car

max thought you ruined the car. and you thought max ruined the car. either way max ended the dutch grand prix in fifth. a sputtering mess of a car hauled back to the garage for you to tinker at. with horner in one ear, max in the other and the head mechanic in the back of your head. you often thought about jumping ship to anywhere else.

if you had to become a bike mechanic in some small town in southern france then so be it. because at least you wouldn't want to wrap your hands around max verstappen's thick throat.

the two of you had a tense relationship. ever since you got into the garage, he stopped winning. while it wasn't your fault, max had pinned it on you. which meant you often got a face full of his biting words.

"do you enjoy fucking me over?" he asked. it was late into the evening and the teams were gone for the night. but not you, never you. you worked yourself to the bone. so when max got into the garage and saw you bent over the car. he could only walk forward.

"if i did, i wouldn't be working for your team, huh?" you replied as you continued to tinker. your ass was sloped up as you were bent over the car, "how about you stop driving like an insane person and we'd actually win."

you could feel him behind you. your ass was enticing and soon max had himself up against you. you swallowed.

"i swear to god max-" you barked.

"if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up. you're supposed to make me a winner." he said, "i know you hate me, but.. one snap of my fingers." he leaned over you, pinning you further against his beloved formula one car.

"you'll have me killed."

max made a face with his chin against the back of your shoulder, "no. but, i'll send you back to the little town you grew up in and make sure you never step foot on a track ever again." it was domineering. max did hold a great deal of power. and while he was all smiles for the camera, you knew something deeper. something darker.

"then why keep me now?"

max took the leap and kissed the side of your neck, "i like things with promise. like an investment. i see a lot of potential in you. when you're not fucking me over. when you make me win." his breath was hot against your skin.

you squirmed a little bit, "max."

"shh, shh, shh. stay there. under me. let me fuck you." there was a tinge of tenderness buried underneath it all, "let me fuck you against me car and you can learn exactly how it works."

he knew that you liked him. or held some feelings for him other than malice. you blabbed about it to another mechanic over drinks. your voice loud enough the the likes of lewis hamilton and george russell heard you. which got its way back to max.

"i've never done this before."

he sighed, "of course you haven't." he felt the anger leave his chest. but what remained was a residue of how he felt about you. deep down he was still the immature teen who loved racing. so of course when he liked a girl, he was going to pull on her proverbial pigtails. he looked down at you, those blue eyes held a lot of power, " well then. i guess i'll be gentle." he said like a promise.

you nodded and started to get your coveralls off when max gave you the space. he was certain you weren't going to run off. you said, "everyone should be gone for the night. but just make sure the door is locked." it was the entrance for staff while the entrance for the car was already locked for the night. tomorrow everything would be hauled to the next location. team would pack up and it was onto the next race. max did as you asked, he wasn't a monster. at least not all the time.

as you stripped naked for him, words died on his tongue. oh. while he said you were an investment of a mechanic. seeing you out of those bulky clothes made something stir in his brain. the words that pushed forward but never came out were, "i love you". maybe a bit of a jump from words said earlier, but he admired you. when he pushed, you pushed back. when he bore teeth, you did the same.

and to have you soon naked over the hood of his stupid yet beloved race car excited him. he undid the fly of his pants and took his leather belt off. he admired your figure up against the car. there was a straight to you, but also a softness.

it was going to take a lot in him to be gentle with you.

"are you sure you're a virgin, mechanic?" he asked as he got his cock out. the sight of your slick cunt so close made him feel hot all over. he rubbed his cock up against you, "are you taking anything? or does your boss keep condoms in a drawer for special occasions."

you swallowed, pressed up against your mechanical pride and joy. about to be fucked by a man who bickering with you at every turn. you replied, "i am. i just didn't have the time to... fuck. and yes, i'm on the pill. can't trust half of your kind sometimes."

he rubbed his cock up against you, "my kind? those are harsh words there, little mechanic." he heard you groan a little at the feeling of his cock just prodding up against your pussy,

you held onto the car as much as you could, and bit your lip as he slowly pushed himself into you. you felt the air leave your lungs as you arched your back from the feeling of it all.

laid out naked on the hood of one of the most expensive pieces of machinery on the planet being fucked by the driver of said piece of machinery. you moaned a little bit as he took your virginity.

his hands on your hips as he fully sank into your sweet sex. he shuddered, he had slept with many people before, but you were different. there was something about you that scratched the right part of his brain. it was a stimulation that made him yearn for more.

you were in trouble there little one because now that max got a taste of your cunt, he was going to try and get it every chance he had. he curved over you and continued to move against you.

"kiss the hood." he said, "i want to see you kiss it. worship it like you would be." his tongue felt heavy and his words were loose as he continued to fuck you against the car. "maybe if you show it come love, you'll be less likely to abuse it."

you whimpered when he dragged against a particular spot. you tried to find your voice as you said, "maybe you should kiss it, since you use and abuse all my hard work."

"ah, ah, ah." he said as he laid a single slap across your ass cheek, "that's not how you talk to me, mechanic. you show some respect to your driver." a weird dom/sub dynamic with a glazing of car talk. it made you feel like you were burning. he leaned in closer to your ear once more, shoving every centimeter into your poor cunt, "next time

while his pace was gentle, his words were biting. he saw how you reacted to it. being treated as a little less than because you were only a faceless mechanic in the crowd while max was on every formula one poster in the world.

he kept an eye on you, for any noises of discomfort. he didn't want to brutalize you. but, your moans were so sweet that they lit up his brain like the fourth of july. and when you eventually gave two kissed to the hood of the car, he felt a tingle run up his spine.

you were just full of surprises weren't you.

you got into the rhythm of moving against him. your noises got a little louder as the two of you fucked on top of the hood of the car. you could feel its parts against your heated skin. the vehicle that you worked so hard on pressed against your bare tits as max verstappen fucked you heavily.

but it didn't last long, you didn't have much time. eventually you'd be locked in the track and have to awkwardly wait out till morning. you were the fist to finish, tensing up before you felt one last moan roll off your tongue. a sign of a good first time. max was close behind you, holding on a little tighter to you as he dragged his cock in and out of you. he kept an open ear for your soft moans and you gripped onto the car tighter.

you looked good.

he finished inside of you and prayed that the little pill you took every morning worked and there would be issues down the line. he could feel the heat in his cheeks and the sweat causing his t-shirt to cling to his back. he panted heavily over you, wanting to have more of you. but a few noises outside the garage made him pull back like you were on fire.

"we gotta-"

"go." you finished his sentence before you started to find your clothes. you thought this was a one night stand situation before max shoved his phone in your face and asked if you two could go out sometime.

your face went hotter as you tried to focus at the task at hand. you hastily put in your number and got your coveralls back on. when your were clothed once more, max leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

he was almost tender as he said, "go back to your hotel, enough with the car. we'll fix whatever we need tomorrow." then got himself back into his jeans.

you scampered off back to your hotel, fleeing the scene before one of the janitors or whoever found the two of you. you hoped the smell of sex mixed with motor oil would be cleared out by tomorrow.

it wasn't until you got back to your hotel room to change for the night that you weren't wearing any underwear. the rush of getting dressed left the pretty cotton panties in the garage. you could picture the soft red material draped over someone's tools.

your eyes went wide. oh fuck. <3

[transformers-spike]

"Cybertronians reacting to getting kissed", in which kissing is not something cybertronians do as an act of affection, so they're completely new to the human concept of kissing to express romantic love. Talk me one Knock Out who is so versed in wooing but doesn't know two shits about human kissing, and finding himself kissed for the first time. Or Starscream who's gonna freak out. Or Megatron who doesn't even know why you're smashing your intake against his

This is such a good question, anon, I've been rotating it in my head for a while now

Knock Out is well-versed in the drag and frag technique. He’s probably one of the youngest members on the Nemesis, still old as balls by our standards, but some rebellious youngin’ by theirs. He’s all about sliding in with a smooth pickup line and buttering you up until he reaches the “let’s get down to business” level, where he starts flashing his biolights in a “come hither and frag me” display. When it comes to human kissing, he’s… improvising to say the least. He’s seen humans make out in a wide variety of drive-through horror movies (many with questionable acting), and while he doesn’t “get” why we do it, he does his best to lean into the act and find what makes it so pleasurable by our standards. When you do kiss him for the first time, he’s already been hyping himself up for months, and whatever smoothness he tries to apply immediately disintegrates because oh fuck, your lips are so small and he has so much to give. He’s absolutely suffering despite the confident front he’s putting up. After fumbling the bag, he’ll ask you how he did. “Mid,” you’re tempted to say. But the hopefulness behind those smug optics stops you in your tracks. Starscream must have had a very confusing interface life even by Cybertronian standards. But there’s no way he didn’t get frisky back when he was Air Commander of Vos, even if the workload was immense. Although that’s probably the most action he got in his entire life, and even then the closest equivalent to “kissing” by their standards is merging EM fields and hoping for the best, a careful manipulation of wavelengths to fall into perfect sync. We humans do not possess a hyper-developed EM field, which is enraging for Starscream because what do you mean you smash intakes??? Mass-displaced or not, the only fluids he accepts in his intake are energon and transfluid, thank you very much. Kissing is a bad idea, and you’ve learned it the hard way, so good job! Now you have to deal with his drama queen ass acting like you just spit in his mouth. Worst thing is, he is interested in trying it again, but with his stipulations (aka watching him fail to figure out how to kiss you). He doesn’t even fail in a funny way, he’s so bad it’s concerning, you’re half tempted to contact Knock Out and blackmail him into sending you Starscream’s medical file.

Megatron was… surprisingly abstinent back on Cybertron. Yes, he’s been around for a long time. Yes, he used to be a gladiator at some point. And yes, it had its perks, but he was always more of a “sensitive spark” than a typical casanova. He had more important things to focus on at the time (mainly surviving the pits of Kaon and, before that, not offlining in a freak mining accident). Honestly, who knows what he did as a politician, whatever freakiness he had going on while trying to depose the government is none of our business and I am totally not typing this with a fusion cannon to my head.

He’s been through so much; fought countless beasts and fellow gladiators, avoided assassination attempts and blood-thirsty mutinies while leading a millennia-long war. Nothing can surprise him anymore. Yes, you’re a weird little freak for smashing intakes with him, but you need not fear for your safety. He’s… intrigued by your display of affection. You can mumble excuses all you want, but you’ve smashed intakes with him and it can’t be undone. Watch out for those sharp teeth and prepare a tetanus shot just in case. You have to deal with the consequences of your actions whether you like it or not, especially when he’s got a claw under your shirt and another down your pants. Your lips are bleeding and you pray it’s an accident, if he gets a taste for human blood you’re done for.

[2thestars-andbeyond]

Little Rabbit

Summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. While training with Rhysand, she winnows herself to the Autumn Court by mistake and finds someone she can't seem to get off her mind..

"Just close your eyes and try again." Rhysand told me, sternly. I'm sure he was getting pretty fed up with me and my training. Plus we'd been at this for a good three hours now. "Close your eyes and concentrate."

"That's what I've been doing Rhys! And its not working!" I took a deep breath trying not to lose my temper. "I just end up five feet from where i'm standing."

Winnowing was hard and learning how to use the power was draining. Taking a seat on a near by stump, I wiped away a stay tear that started to roll down my cheek.

"Winnowing is a power not all Fae have. It takes a good deal of concentration and strength. try again Y/N. Try to think of another spot in the woods."

All the woods looked the same. Every tree the same type of maple. Every blade of grass the same shade of green.

I rolled my eyes at Rhys. "I'm not sure why you have so much faith in me winnowing anyway. I'm obviously not that good at it so i'm not sure why it matters so much."

Rhys took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. "Y/n, I know you can do this. Close your eyes and try again. Focus on the tree that Azriel is standing next to."

Az just nodded at me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I always loved being in the woods especially during autumn. All the colors and cool breezes. Soon, in my minds eye, the tree behind the Shadow Singer had vibrant orange leaves and a cool breeze blew my hair. I ripped my eyes open.

"You've got to be kidding me." I whispered in disbelief. I had done it. I had finally winnowed, right into the Autumn Court...

"I knew that asshole was up to something" Rhysand had been trying for the past week to get me to winnow. I hope he's happy now.

"I know you can do it" I mocked my brother in law as I walked through the unfamiliar forest of Autumn. I knew it was a matter of time before Beron's sentries found me. Rhysands "I know you can do it" is probably going to get beheaded or whatever they do to trespassers in this Court.

I heard shuffling in the nearby bushes. I stopped so abruptly I almost fell. "Please don't be a bear or a wolf."

I let out a sigh of relief as a squirrel jetted out of the bush.

"Are you lost little rabbit?"

I whirled around and bumped right into a red haired male.

"Shit." I murmured under my breath, finding it hard to find my voice.

He smirked. "You are far from home. Don't worry. I already informed Rhysand."

I had never met this male before. So how did he know who I was? He took a step around means continued down the path.

"I do have to say that it is pretty impressive that you winnowed this far away from Night. nearly four courts away. Come. We will meet your high lord somewhere safe. Beron has eyes and ears everywhere. Sometimes I fear the creatures are on his side as well."

I ran to catch up with him. "Wait so you aren't going to turn me in?"

He chuckled. "Why would I do that? Hmm?" His amber eyes met mine.

His gaze was intense and nearly took my breath away. "I-it's just that i'm trespassing, correct? I was sure that would be punishable in such a cutthroat Court?"

"Oh, it is. Usually anyway, but I told Beron i'd check out the breech in the border."

We walked for what seemed like forever. Passing by tree after tree, all of them different it seemed, unlike the forest back home. Every tree different shades of Autumn colors. More vibrant than I had ever seen back in the night Court or the human lands for that matter. Before I knew it we had reached a clearing.

"Take my hand" The male told me. "Rhysand waits for you in the clearing."

I gave him a skeptical look, "Ahh. I don't see anything inside the clearing"

"Just trust me." He replied offering me his hand.

"How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know you."

"I would never let any harm come to you, Y/n." I gasped as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his chest. The smell of crackling fire and spice engulfed me as he winnowed us into the clearing.

Rhysand, Feyre and Az appeared before me. Azriel, noting how close the male held me, drew his knife.

"Calm down Shadow Singer, she is unharmed. Aren't you little rabbit?" He asked, bringing my chin up so that my eyes met his again.

Azriel growled. but the male let me go. Taking one more look at his face, I ran into my older sisters arms. "I'm okay. " I assured them.

"Thank you Eris for keeping her safe." Rhys stated.

"It is strange though. That she winnowed so far from home." Eris mused. "Makes one wonder what drew her to a court she had never stepper foot into." With that, he disappeared.

Shocked was an understatement. The male that had saved me was the Heir of Autumn. the male every one talks so much shit about. And all I could think about was how his warm hand felt wrapped around my wrist. How his finger had gently raised my chin, how his amber eyes seemed to darken as they bore into mine.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Has anyone requested Fae Dust’s datemate HCs yet? If not, can we have some?

I also saw @owl-bones' Dust art, anon. And I very much agree its sexy

Don't think I need to tell you that he's hard to read

Get used to having no clue how he really feels.

Some wonder why he doesn't speak, when tricksy words are what the fae are known for. But in a world where every word is a trap, there's great power in not speaking at all.

... Also means it feels like there's never any pressure with Dust. You can relax around him. Blurt whatever you like, because he says barely anything in return.

When he likes you, you won't know how you know, but you'll just... know. You'll get a feeling you're being quietly appreciated. You'll get a feeling you're the only person in the room he can stand. He keeps looking at you like you and him are in on a joke no one else understands.

He'll be silent for hours, only to stun everyone in the room by chuckling at something you said.

He frequently looks your way, even if you can't see his eyelights you can tell you're being watched, and when you can see his eyelights they get visibly wider and softer.

Normally, during the rare occasions when Nightmare hosts balls or parties, Dust immediately finds some way to escape. But if you're present, he'll stay. Might even ask you to dance.

(By 'ask', I mean just gently take your hand and wordlessly lead you into it, the other skeletons too gobsmacked at his boldness to intervene)

There's a few clearer signs he likes you. He'll perform random acts of politeness for you, like holding doors and passing you things you can't reach, a big fucking deal considering you didn't ask first. He'll sit by your side, he'll stand close to you even if you're not facing one another. If you're having a conversation with another fae he looms nearby... you might mistake it for jealousy, but really, he's making it 100% clear to whoever you're talking to that if they trick you or take something of yours he's going to ensure it's returned.

..... A little jealousy too, though.

He disappears for several days at a time, seemingly out of nowhere. No one's sure what he does - rumours swirl that he goes out to do Nightmare's dirty work. The first thing he always does when he comes back is give you a small affectionate touch.

He spends a lot of time in Nightmare's library. You might find him there, if you wander that way. You can tell he appreciates the company because he doesn't leave when you show up.

You find him smoking outside, you ask for a puff of his cigarette. He takes a slow drag, then leans in and kisses you.

He'll take his hood down around you.

When he does eventually speak, you'll find that the whole time he's known you, he's been quietly making a dedicated effort to learn about the things important to you. He's very perceptive. He'll learn all about your interests, your hobbies, the things you could talk about forever... if you know another language he'll familiarise himself with the basics, if you like art he'll pick up a pencil, if you like history his satchel will be heavy with scrolls and books he's snatched from Nightmare's library for you.

It's funny how so few words can make you feel so appreciated.

He's quite the charmer, when he wants to be.

[lame-cameoliob]

Kallus' motivations are so interesting

I just need to get these thoughts out so I’m throwing this ramble here:

Now, this may totally just be me thinking too much (fork found in kitchen) but I feel like when it comes to how we tend to think about Kallus’ characterization, the implications of Kallus’ experience on Onderon are very overlooked. 

So he goes to Onderon with “the boys”-- which, the term “the boys” has its own set of implications about how Kallus must have really cared for those troopers under his command but I digress– and on a patrol they’re attacked, yada yada, we all know the story. 

But Kallus becomes fully paralyzed. He doesn’t describe the extent of his paralyzation but given that he had to watch as his squad was “finished off one by one” it’s pretty fair to assume that he could not move whatsoever. The fear that any person would experience in that situation is completely indescribable, that is genuinely some shit straight out of a night terror. 

He is– as we know– spared (albeit we don’t get exact details (did the merc try to kill him but reinforcements arrived before he could? Did the merc think that Kallus was already dead? Secret 3rd option?)) and he makes a full physical recovery, but there is no way in hell that he is not coming out of that encounter with some crazy PTSD. 

There’s not a whole lot of info on Imperial mental health services but I don’t think it’s a longshot to assume that they are probably close to nonexistent.

So the empire now has… an ISB agent with field experience… with untreated PTSD… where said PTSDs inciting incident pertained to a Lasat… and they’re looking to make an example out of Lasan……….. Are you picking up what I'm putting down here…...?

If you aren’t; it is BY NO MEANS a wild assumption to say that the Empire– essentially– weaponized Kallus’ PTSD, given that he would be less likely to question the moral atrocities happening on Lasan since he was already biased against Lasat as a whole. 

Now, we don’t really have a solid grasp on what Kallus’ exact role in Lasan was since he’s  kiiiiinnnd of an unreliable narrator– I mean we’re given the line in Droids in Distress where he takes credit for giving orders during the siege, but Kallus routinely just runs his mf mouth whenever he’s throwing hands so it’s like…  that could either be the truth or a crazy exaggeration, we as viewers have literally no idea what’s going on there– but it goes without saying that Kallus is obviously not excused from his participation just because of (likely) untreated mental illness, but that is literally like the whole point of his character so like we all knew that

Now, after Lasan, Kallus does something really bizarre for an imperial to do; he accepts the borifle given to him through the Boosan Keerah, and even though he doesn’t know about the cultural significance of that, he still takes it upon himself to learn how to use this weapon. I think that literally any other imperial would have tossed that shit out on sight, so I think it does kind of imply that Kallus did have a good deal of respect for Lasat culture.

Now we can all recall how Kallus is so annoying and also batshit insane whenever he fights Zeb for the first season and a half of rebels, and ME THINKS that this is because he wants to prove to himself that if he were not paralyzed on Onderon, he could have saved the members of his squad. He had to sit by and watch them die, and I think that he just wants the vindication; now you may be thinking, But Emma, he beat the Lasat who gave him his borifle, why would he still be obsessing over this– say it with me now– he is mentally ill. No victory will ever be enough to prove this to himself. Point blank period. 

(edit:) He is for sure operating from a place of extreme predjudice and bias but I think it's worth noting that he’s not operating under the usual xenophobic imperial mindset that other species are automaticaly lesser than. (end edit) This weird obsession that he has in seasons 1 and 2 deels like it's mostly there because he wants to outwit and outfight Zeb (and the rest of the Ghost crew… but especially Zeb) (edit: Though it is 100% influenced by Xenophobia-- his mental illness and xenopobia DO coexist!!)

And after the Honorable Ones???? It’s literally never brought up again. He chills tf out so hard after that it is high key uncanny. And like, yes duh that is because– for writing purposes– that’s the beginning of his redemption and they want viewers to root for him as fulcrum, but it also implies that after finding common ground with Zeb, and understanding where he’s coming from and who Zeb is as a person, he realizes that he’s been CRASHING TF OUT for basically no reason. 

And he is SO QUICK to switch sides?? Like, he is fulcrum at least a decent time before the beginning of season three. The whole point is that the second he asks questions and delves deeper into what the Empires motivations are he is disgusted enough that he doesn’t just drop everything and disappear, no, he became a spy for the rebels because he wants to help. I feel like that just goes to show that, at his core, Kallus is a good person. A deeply confused, and hurt, and misguided person, but a good one. 

I dunno, this is just a really long winded way of saying that Kallus is the perfect example of an imperial pawn. Like the Empire is an incredibly effecient indoctrination machine that exploits people at every turn, especially their own soldiers, and I think that Kallus’ relationship with that indoctrination along with his own motivations is just super super interesting and I think about it literally all the time

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

some general thoughts, or what NOT to do in a crisis*:

we can all acknowledge that the last 24 hours have been a clusterfuck in many ways, and i think we can all agree that everything that happened today should have been handled differently.

first and foremost, we can acknowledge the pain that daniela caracas has and is experiencing. it's not easy being a person of colour in spain, let alone a black woman and a female footballer at that. there is already coded language in how we speak about black players in our league and any type of harassment or abuse towards her is wrong. daniela felt violated and that deserves recognition. period.

we can acknowledge that mapi acted physically in a manner that was wrong. i'm not going to sit here and argue with internet lip readers as to what was or was not said. but whether the touching was incidental or not, the fact was that it happened. period.

we can acknowledge that there are right wing elements who are using this incident to further their own agenda. they are spinning narratives and putting out messaging to further their own agendas. that's wrong. period.

we can acknowledge that mapi is a person who may face criminal liability and thus her statement was directed under legal advisement. but we can also acknowledge that tone and messaging matters. you can protect your legal rights but still put out a statement that doesn't feed into anger or defensiveness.

we can acknowledge that our favourite players are human and will fuck up in life. but that doesn't mean we shouldn't call them out or demand that they learn and grow from their mistakes.

we can acknowledge that barça waited too long to put out any sort of statement. the club should have turned off its scheduled social media because those posts came off as flippant and oblivious. my personal feelings are that the club should have put out a separate statement first, and not relied on a statement through the player involved in the incident. again, you can put out a statement of concern without waiving any legal rights.

we can acknowledge that this team is at a crossroads and that no matter how frustrated you are in a match, your players need to be disciplined enough not to loss their cool or react in such a manner. and we can acknowledge that there needs to be concrete steps at the club level to address this behaviour collectively as a unit and not to hide it away.

and finally, we can acknowledge that the club has let many of us down today, and we should demand that it do better. period. more to come. 🙏

*i'm writing this from the perspective of someone who works in legal and compliance and deals with investigations all the time. i understand the potential legal ramifications here, but there are much better ways to have handled the situation.

[moonsaver]

Warning: yan!jiaoqiu x reader, hints/implications of cannibalism and drugs.

Note: its 1.3k words, which is surprising considering i dont usually write that much. Anyways i tried to incorporate a different kind of horror feeling into this work. Hope you guys like it.

-

Jiaoqiu lives up to his name. Medicinal chef, although one part is hidden, and he willfully lives up to the other half. But both seem to work in cognition when he meets you.

There you are – where he always hopes you'll be. A small twitch of his ear, the flurry of his tail. His eyes creak open ever so slightly to behold your silhouette in the golden frame of his irises. 

There you are – where you always will be, he hopes. Or rather, he wills.

Jiaoqiu has taken a rather different approach when it comes to medicines, and food.

The chilli sizzles in the oil, loud and crackling in short bursts through the growing warm air surrounding his workspace, his tender hands working swiftly through the assortment of spices. But really, he wouldn't need much, especially considering the chillis he's going to be using. Although, he changes his mind, going back over to dutifully sprinkle in a few spices anyway. At least, he does this for you.

Quiet, ever so silent. Curt responses. Flitting eyes. You're a curious little thing. Well, it doesn't matter how brooding or moody you may be. To him, you're interesting. To any sly fox, interesting means plaything. He's learned how to really risk the delicate balance of spice and flavour. And he's also sure how to deal with bitterness.

Strangely enough - you seem to like it. The bitterness slowly but surely pierces through the food, seeping into your mouth like poison. He's sure to take inspiration, but for now, he watches with a closed eye smile. A smile you're always too familiar with, ever since he's started making things special for you.

His chin placed delicately on the palm of his hand, elbow slightly straining the smooth wood underneath, as his hand gently fans away the ghat of the chili, still wafting in the air, making a few people cough in the distance. “Do you like it?” He asks, often. “I've added just what you might like”, “you'll keep coming back”, and, “my, aren't I seeing you too often?”

...

You don't know what's gotten into you. Dazed, but also hypervigilant at the same time. You think you're losing your mind – the reality you were so grounded in, losing your footing, the dissonance of your mind pushing you far into the cacophony of distressed thoughts, until his calm voice snaps you of it.

“Hm? Perhaps my new recipe will help soothe you. If the feeling persists.. meet me after hours.”

You take another bite, another walk back home, and another episode of hyperventilation. You breathe in, eyes flitting to the mirror you can't seem to reach – or rather you can't seem to keep yourself standing despite your fearful heart lurching in your chest.

And as per Jiaoqiu's predictions, you do meet him after hours. But you can't tell with the blend of reality and your hallucinations. You're not sure if it's the moon, but you're sure Jiaoqiu stares down at you, silver and gold melding into your delicate vision.

—--

Jiaoqiu has many characters of a cat than he does of a fox

Or rather, you say that because you probably haven't interacted with a fox before.

All the times you were sick and bedridden, Jiaoqiu made it almost his personal mission to look after you. He wouldn't be around for too long, thankfully. Long hours at work or the other. But he comes back and makes the best soup you could ever have, especially with your illness.

But you find the meat makes your body slightly reactive, at least when you're sick. Jiaoqiu brushes it off and insists you eat regardless.

His cheek rubs against your shoulder when you wake up, telling you how dearly he missed you. You yawn, eyes still closed and heavy from sleep while you wake up, but you can notice the slight grazing of his pointed teeth on your skin. 

You watch as he dutifully grinds up herbs and other malleable herbs into the mortar. He grew them himself, he tells you. It's simply better to alter and enhance them when you can get your hands on them, he tells you.

That's a beautiful flower, you tell him. His dutiful hands temporarily withhold in the air above the mortar, the soft stem bent and almost breaking in his fingers. He chuckles softly. You've been tasting it for a while in your food now, he informs you. You hum as he grinds it into the powdery mixture. Was that the source of bitterness?

-

Jiaoqiu has a taste for many peculiar things. But he also has a taste for humans. Or, more or less, just you.

Ever since you've become a regular, Jiaoqiu has been eager to offer you a sneak peek into the kitchen. He sits you down for the milder part of the cooking process, chatting away with you as he waits for one or the other thing to marinate, rise, or separate. His hand not so subtly itching to yours over the countertop, forcing your hand to slip into his glove. When you whine or complain about the constriction of the material, Jiaoqiu only responds with a quiet smile, his ears twitching the slightest bit. 

Sometimes, he lets you look around the kitchen, with sanitary limitations, of course. You eye the meat that looks a bit too red, or the one with a few too many strings in it to be written off as normal. You gaze at the blood seeping into the water. Myoglobin, he tells you. But you think your eyes are keener than that.

He feeds you well, isn't hesitant to add in a few extra medicinal herbs to your food, serves you the special tea he prepares only for momentous occasions.

And the best meat he finds.

Its a beautiful red, in his opinion. You stare as the knife cuts through the meat, the strings loosening and tearing. The blood– myoglobin, he corrects you, taints his hands, ungloved. Its far easier to determine the cleanliness without gloves. They tend to give you a false sense of it. He tells you.

You watch, the smell of the raw meat making you scrunch your nose the slightest bit. He chuckles fondly when he sees that on your face.

He finds you to be one of the people he's met, that he's taken a liking to. As for the one that he considers distasteful.. well, he's sure he can find some use of them. Especially if you dislike them, too.

-

You're sure something is wrong.

The soups make you dizzy, your body bursts into hives, your heart rate goes up. Something in it is causing you severe distress, but you can't understand what exactly it might be. You've staved away from his shop for a while. 

Until one day – Jiaoqiu senses your hesitation. His smile is no longer on his face, despite his closed eyes. He quietly allows you to inspect the kitchen after hours, his back turned to you, grinding, crushing, snapping the herbs into the mortar. You especially eye the red meat he stores away, and this time he doesn't tell you off. He continues to grind the herbs, shuffling through a few cabinets for them, before continuing. You've insisted on calling it blood and not myoglobin. Because you can taste it in your food.

He tells you, you're hallucinating. It's a side effect of your sickness he's had to help ward off lately. But you're sure he's wrong. He hums, and continues quietly. The darkness of the kitchen only illuminated by scarce yellow lighting, and the sterile, white glow of the fridge as you continue staring at it. Your eyes wander at the various meats before–

You spot something behind it.

His meats are sourced from various animals, with smaller organs, incomparable to the size of humans.

Was this animal mutated? Or simply particularly large?

You gently kneel down, hearing Jiaoqiu snapping the stem of a flower and continue grinding the herbs, your eyes settled fiercely onto the incomprehensible.. thing.

Your shaking hand reaches out, the coldness of the fridge making you shiver, although it's not exactly the cold, is it?

Your fingers touch the strange surface of the unidentifiable meat. Pericardium. Your fingers reach further and gently grasp it. It's about the size of your fist.

You breathe out, your heart thudding in the quiet of your mind as you stare at the one in your hands.

…

Has it always been this quiet?

You look back and are met with Jiaoqiu's golden eyes.

His default smile returns to his face, but this time, his golden eyes are staring directly at you.

You should have stayed out of his kitchen. Who knows what he'd been feeding you?

-

[goldfades]

PARDON MY EMOTIONS / I SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP IT ALL TO MYSELF ── 𝐉𝐁⁵

❪ requested -> "jude angst to fluff WITH PLOT!" ❫

─ pairing | jude bellingham x fem!reader

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | lots of angst to fluff, miscommunication (kind of), jude being an ASSHOLE but making up for it.

─ ev's notes ! | i'm now in my football kick due to the euros and copa america so please send in requests!!! 🤗🎀

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with England's star football player had its ups and downs.

You got to be a WAG, enjoying the glamorous lifestyle that came with dating Jude. From attending high-profile matches and exclusive events to traveling the world and mingling with other footballers and celebrities, life was never boring. The media attention was overwhelming at times, but you learned to navigate the spotlight and maintain a sense of normalcy.

However, that was the problem. You longed for a sense of normalcy, that was all you wanted was for your relationship. The glitz and glamour of being a WAG was only fun for a bit, not it seemed like you never got a moment to yourself. This was the root of all your relationships, somehow ─ Jude never understood why you wouldn't like all the media attention.

"It's overwhelming," you muttered as you played with the bottom of your of your coffee cup, the warm ceramic providing little comfort. Jude sat across from you, his expression both of concern and confusion.

"What do you mean, overwhelming?" He replied, his gaze locked on you. "This is part of the life we have. The attention, the media... it's just something we have to deal with."

You sighed, looking out the window at the city outside. "But that's just it, Jude. I never wanted this. I love you, and I support your career, but I miss having a private life. I miss being able to go out without cameras following us or people recognizing us everywhere we go."

"Overwhelming for you?" He sighed, his expression hardening. "How do you think I feel? Look, I'm not asking for much ─ I've given you the best life I can,"

You scoffed, he wasn't listening to what you were saying. "This isn't about you or-or what you've given me. I'm grateful, I really am-"

"Doesn't sound like it," Jude cut you off, his voice rising in frustration. "It sounds like you're not happy with anything I've done."

You felt a surge of anger, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. "That's not fair, Jude," you sighed. "I've been by your side through everything, and all I'm asking for is a little understanding. I need space, I need to feel like my own person, not just an accessory to your life."

Jude stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So, what? You want me to quit football? Give up everything I've worked for?"

"No!" You stood up as well, your heart pounding. "I don't want you to give up anything. I just want you to see things from my perspective for once. I'm losing myself in all of this, and I feel like an accessory you just get to show off."

"Well, you know that's not true," his eyes softened for a moment, but then the frustration returned. "I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're just... giving up."

"I'm not giving up," you said, your voice breaking. "It's hard for me too, like I'm just a pretty face with no dreams or aspirations. That's what they think-"

"Who cares what they think? I know you're more than that, everyone you care about knows that." Jude let out a huff as he glared at you.

"Well it's always just been about you, Jude," you didn't mean it to come out so harsh ─ your tone hard and cold. "Moving to Spain and-and all this, it's hard on me too."

That seemed to hit a nerve because Jude's eyes went wide before he scoffed. "You think this has been easy for me? You think moving to a different country, dealing with the pressure of a new team, and trying to keep us together is all about me?"

You flinched at his words, but your frustration was too strong to back down now. "That's not what I'm saying, Jude. I just want you to see that I'm struggling too. I left everything behind to be with you. My friends, my family, my life — everything."

Jude's face softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "I need you to understand that this life comes with sacrifices. We both have to make them, this is what you signed up for."

"I know that, Jude," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffled. "But sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sacrificing. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it."

You wiped away a tear before continuing, averting your gaze from Jude. "I just need to feel like I'm more than just your girlfriend. I need to feel like I have my own purpose."

"You are!" Jude snapped, before sighing.

You sent him a glare as you sighed loudly, getting tired of not being heard. "Don't raise your voice!"

"You're being ungrateful, I've given you everything! A nice house, a nice car, you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"

That was the last straw. Your mouth was slightly agape as you took in his words. Ungrateful? How could he say that after everything you've sacrificed to be with him?

"Fuck," you sighed as you looked up, meeting his gaze. "Is that how low you think of me? Fine, then. Let them have my position, since apparently, you think I'm just here for the perks," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger.

Jude's face fell, a mixture of regret and panic crossing his features. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just frustrated. I love you, and I want us to be happy."

You shook your head, taking a step back. "That's not enough, Jude. Love isn't just about the nice things or the glamorous life. It's about understanding each other. And right now, I don't feel understood."

"That's not what I meant," Jude sighed as he began rubbing his temple. "Jesus, I need some space from you."

You glared as he grabbed his keys from the counter and you watched him walk out of the room, feeling your stomach twist in anxiety and hurt. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Tears streamed down your face as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the argument pressing down on you.

You sat there for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened. The love you had for Jude was undeniable, but the constant feeling of being misunderstood was taking its toll. You needed to find a way to reclaim your sense of self, to feel heard in your relationship.

After a few moments, you wiped your tears and took a deep breath. You needed to do something, anything, to clear your mind. You decided to go for a walk, hoping the fresh air would help you think more clearly. Grabbing your jacket, you stepped outside and started walking aimlessly through the streets of the city.

As you walked, you reflected on your relationship with Jude. There had been so many beautiful moments, but lately, it seemed like the challenges were overshadowing the good times. You loved him deeply, but you needed to find a way to communicate better, to make him understand how you felt without it turning into a fight.

After a while, you headed back home, feeling a bit more centered. When you entered the apartment, you heard the TV and sighed. You took off your jacket and made your way to the living room, your gaze landing on Jude was too immersed in the show he was watch to realize you'd come home.

He finally met your gaze and instantly muted the TV, the tension palpable as you walked toward him.

"Hey," you whispered as he gave you a small smile.

He tapped to the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitated for a moment before joining him on the couch, the silence between you heavy with tension.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I've been thinking about what you said."

You nodded, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. "Me too. I just... I need you to understand how hard this is for me."

Jude took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "I know I've been incredibly fucking selfish, and I haven't been listening to you. I didn't realize how much you were sacrificing and how it was affecting you until now and... and I'm sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. "I appreciate that, Jude. I love you, but I need to find my own way, to have something that's mine."

He nodded, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I get that. And I want to help you find that. We can work on this together, maybe you can look into things that interest you here, find something that makes you happy."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I’d like that. And maybe we can set some boundaries with the media, try to keep our private life a bit more private."

"Yeah, absolutely," Jude agreed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my manager and see what we can do about that. Your happiness is important to me... you are important to me."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of reassurance. "Thank you, Jude. I just want us to be happy together, without all the pressure and stress."

He kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "We will, I promise."

"I love you, a lot," Jude continued, his voice soft. "I didn't mean anything I said earlier, I was just angry. I don't know..." He trailed off, before pausing. "I don't know what I'd do with you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you. "I love you too, Jude," you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion.

As you cuddled together on the couch, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you felt a sense of peace.

"How about we start fresh tomorrow?" Jude suggested, his voice gentle. "We can spend the day together, just us. No media, no distractions. Just enjoying each other's company."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd love that. It sounds perfect."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Good. It's a date then."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[noellefan101]

Silent Living

Characters: Noelle, Kinich, Lynette, Beidou, Diluc x mute GN!reader

Summary: You're mute, and cant talk? not a problem for your partner, they can find other ways to communicate, and honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: mute reader, most of them dont know sign language but there are people where i think they would either have learned it already or will learn it for you, gn reader as always

Note: hehe its kinda hard to write for Noelle tbh, i just can't see her romantically if that makes sense, its like a platonic obsession i have for her. but i chose to write for some girlies bc i felt like it, luv you :P

Noelle

She's a sweetheart and i fully believe she would try to learn sign language the day you meet for the first time. but for the sake of the cute gestures lets pretend she barely knows any words in it, or that you arent the best yourself despite probably needing it heh.

(she would teach you some if so, or learn with you)

In a classic Noelle fashion, she does literally anything for you, though people would normally just have to speak her name, you can't. so she always keeps an extra eye on you to ensure she's there when you need her help. that may be a given, but its truly what shes best at doing.

Loves writing little notes for you, whether its just so you can remember something or if its to invite you anywhere, she loves it. and she has definitely not been carrying pen and paper with her for weeks so you could write notes for each other, no no.

I dont imagine her being the best with words, but is always very good at comforting. so if you need some reassurance or just comfort you can come to her. and you can let her know to be silent by putting a finger over her mouth if you like the silence more. she wont be offended don't worry.

Kinich

Not very good with words and likes silence when possible, so it's very common for you to sit in silence doing an activity together. he's best with actions at least, both giving and receiving, so just doing a tiny chore for him would mean more than words could.

Though it may be difficult to do anything for each other since he's quite busy, and so could you be. but he always has time to sit with you for at least 30 minutes a day and just spend quality time together.

if you ever need anything from him, he has a notebook on him at all times that you're free to write in. Although Ajaw has made a fuss about it being annoying to wait for you, but he'll shut up if Kinich locks him up.

Lynette

She loves the silence you bring. being around her brother all the time can get annoying, no matter how much she loves him, so a quiet tea time with you is often just what she needs. she knows you can feel out of place or left out even since you cant communicate as easily with her siblings. but she is always ready to talk for you.

No matter how much she hates public speaking, and how often she gets her brother to speak for her, she'll speak for you. if there's anything you'd like to say, just write it down and show it to her. she might even know what you wanted to say, by how you stand and how your muscles move. so she will sometimes speak for you before you even get to start writing it down.

She has made sure you're a part of the conversation, not just there and looking around. she might have some knowledge about sign language, but she knows many do not and makes sure everyone understands you.

(she might even ask father if they can get classes in sign language, or at least the siblings of hers that you interact with most often)

Beidou

Maybe not the best at silent communication, but she tries her very best. if she doesnt know sign language she'll learn it, mostly because she feels it would make you more comfortable, but its also something that she may find interesting.

She is very good at dealing with different kinds of people though, so expect yourself to feel right at home wherever you are on her ship. she might even have started teaching her crew how to talk with you properly, whether thats getting you something write down on or learning them a bit of sign language that im not sure of.

Unfortunately it all goes in weird directions when she's drunk, while she talks for you it might be hard to get her to pay attention enough or even speak your thoughts properly. Kazuha is your savior in this case.

Diluc

He has made sure every single maid and anyone he hires learn to speak through their hands. he might even have prepared for it before you started dating, and even some of his staff you have never met before just knows how to speak with you.

Its a given that you're going to be well treated at the dawn winery, but Diluc makes sure you feel the most at home you'll ever experience. you have at least 1 maid whos ready to tend to you in a seconds notice, whether its jsut that you need something to write on or you need to know where you lover is.

Will literally drop anything for you with just a finger on his shoulder. whatever you need, he'll do it. need a hug? no need to even gesture it he knows, someone doesnt understand you at all? he's ready to talk in your place for hours on end.

I might have written it weirdly again sry, im not mute and i just like writing, Luv Ya- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[nightscythe]

dark sides of the primarchs' relationships

some of these are very dark (esp lorgar, angron, ferrus I guess) but I wanted to represent some of the less enjoyable themes in their relationships. some are kind of obvious, but I wanted to expand a little. again, it's how I write them, so you may not necessarily agree!!

now has a light sides vers ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

18+ below the cut pls, it's sfw but some themes of death, obsession, etc, mostly pre-heresy

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the lion: struggles to interpret his feelings and often mistakes them as needs - namely, sexual need, but really any physical need. the heavy feeling in his heart because he hasn't seen you for weeks? must be because he had become used to your presence and his body must adapt to being without you. the burning in his chest when someone else dares to speak to you with a more suggestive tone? well, its not jealousy, it is his body telling him he needs you. overtime this would start to go, he would learn to interpret feelings in a more emotional way, but realistically he would need to care enough to want to try in the first place. he would always struggle though, turning every single one of his feelings about love into his duty. you're his responsibility, everyone else is a threat.

fulgrim: whilst it is obvious that his desire for perfection may have an impact on you, it has an equal burden on him. he always doubts himself, always taking a pessimistic view of both himself as a lover and to relationships as a whole. and your reassurance may never be enough, even if you do mean it and he seeks it out. he will always make each gift, each speech, each act of love bigger to meet his own desire to be better. and really? it can become more exhausting than anything. especially if he is always trying to prove himself and it sometimes starts to feel artificial. there would be a breaking point though where he finally realises to you, he is perfect, and there is nothing else he needs to do. but there is always that little, teeny doubt.

perty: trust issues will get to him more than anything. he'd need someone who has so much patience that it wears you down, but ultimately it would be worth it. the worst part is that he wouldn't often share how he feels, he keeps it to himself and sits brewing thoughts in his own head that you may just be like everyone else and not truly care. he'd keep it from you, never uttering a word, silently letting it all fester until it gets too much. and breaking down that wall he builds from his own thoughts would take a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of letting him work things out on his own. that's probably the biggest issue - he has a lot of time, something you may not as easily afford.

the khan: his idea of love is different. in a good way, maybe, but different to others. love for him is choice, and he will not restrict you to it. if you want to leave him, then go. if you want to spend a day without him, then do so. he'd really need someone who can deal with his laid back approach (or more so, his promotion of freedom above all other things) to love. that can be tough. his free spirit may just be too free to some people, and that's just what life is like. don't expect reassurance or speeches of his feelings, they are not happening. he's quick to make his decisions, his conclusions, and he's quick to temper. in the right conditions, this can make a storm. if anything ever goes bad.. good luck.

leman: it flips with him, very sudden, very easily. one day he's so enamoured, so utterly floored by everything you do that he's got massive heart eyes and following you around like a puppy. other times he's in his own world, following his own free spirit, that it can make you feel neglected. all of this just ends up causing more and more anxiety, unknowingly to him, and obviously to you. its all unintentional of course, he loves you so deeply. and his love itself? it's raw. he's so set on being stoic and strong but he is fragile too. he fears the worst, his emotions are never waste. everything he feels he shows directly to you. that can be overwhelming; all of this is overwhelming. especially when you could wake up one day and he's gone to do something without any warning, not evening thinking that you notice.

dorn: he's cold. he's so cold that it burns. or... is that the raging fire inside just reaching through the cracks? words mean nothing to him, and it can be difficult to truly know where you stand. he would never say he loves you, he would make you feel like he didn't ever need you, but should you ever leave? he'd tear the imperium down brick by brick until he had you back with him. it's unknowing to him. a duty. an unspoken loyalty. he doesn't believe in anything being temporary, so you're with him for life now. even if he never says it. and its the fact it's just actions, ones which may not mean anything to you, that makes it so hard. the door he gifted you with a heavy duty lock may be strange to you, but you did tell him you were worried about someone breaking in...

curze: does not feel he can be loved. he thinks he deserves it, but he never thinks anyone would dare. he thinks any affection shown to his is out of selfish fear and the second an opportunity presents itself, that love and affection would be gone. so he worries. he worries you are just like everyone else. makes assumptions, accusations, tells you that he thinks you're lying. probably because in the past he felt he should be loved and forced it out of people. he never once stops to think that maybe you lay beside him, you hold his hand, you take care of him, because you want to. it doesn't make sense to him, not without proof, or time, or anything to support your case. he'd get it eventually, he'd stop spending nights awake convinced you'll leave him when you sleep peacefully beside him with no intention of going.

sanguinius: his foresight is a burden, knowing what will happen to him means his guards are up. he would always be devoted, and he would carry the burden of fate to know he had shown you love in a way that mattered. but the sleepless nights would come, knowing the heartbreak would follow. especially at first, he'd try so hard, he'd want to protect others, you, from the fallout of fate. he'd never wanted you to see him in a way as more than a guardian, protector even, but it was inevitable. especially being who he is. and he would keep it to himself, and it would eat him up inside. he'd want to give you an easier way out, a ending where his death was the lesser of two evils, but he could never bring himself to leave. not before fate forced his hand.

ferrus: he has to make you better. you though fulgrim was obsessed with perfection? imagine that, but reversed, and intensified by a thousand. ferrus can make you better. he can make you stronger, he can make you everything you ever wanted. and over time, as he improves you, makes you need to know that he's impressed with you, it changes you. he's unrelenting. and it's not that he doesn't love you. oh, he loves you so so much. but there's a part of him that thinks his encouragement, his desire for your perfection, it helps you. together you can be the perfect couple, but not because of beauty or looks. then it feels like you're a project to him, little more than a toy for him to work on each and every day. and he'd let you go. he'd give you the choice, be free of him, but you'd hesitate. could you ever really be without him again?

angron: he only knows war. pain. death. love is so... small to him. he doesn't understand how to be gentle, how to replicate the love some of his brothers will. but he doesn't want to hurt you, either. and it shows. he will not hurt you, he will not make you feel pain, but he would die for you. and would you die for him? well. if you wouldn't, he would make you. love for him is a reflection of the strongest emotions he feels. the words he associates with it are different. violence. he'd kill anyone who stood between you. desperation. it's a feeling he can't describe as anything other than need. consuming. it grinds on him, wears him down, until he treats it the exact same way as everything else he feels. you're his, and you will become a part of him, whether you want to or not.

rob: it should be easy to him, but its not, and that makes him feel worse. he's not stupid, he can process love and emotion. yet... why does it feel so hard? he always feels like he is doing something wrong, always expression too little in case he reveals too much, whilst always trying to make up for something he fumbled already. its a vicious cycle. the reality of the situation is he's torn in every direction, he's needed by so many people, that he doesn't have time for love. yet he would fight to the very end of time to show it to you. and it exhausts him to no end. he'd just need a little patience, he'd very much enjoy if instead of something require brain or body power, he could just rest with you in his arms, enjoy the peace, but when that's every single evening, it could become a little hard

morty: he carries around a lot of anger and it's not always easy to hide. like a bitter old woman who sneers at kids for stepping on her lawn, but deep down she has a heart bigger than anyone - she just doesn't like it when he things are messed up. probably a bad analogy. the smallest things annoy him and he's got a quick temper. he constantly has to remind himself to check his own feelings, assess if he's reacting appropriately, then actually respond. so sometimes, it can feel artificial, like it's a brave face he puts on, and eventually you'll just want to know the real him. and you can, but it may not be as easily heard or understood. with time he would get better, he'd balance his emotions with your help, but until then it may never feel 100% real.

magnus: the poor guy, he just doesn't think (how obvious, I know). his actions are well intended but the way he comes across is a mixed bag. you're proud of something you've done or learned and in the spirit of sharing your achievement he does it in one try... or he tells you a more advance version of a spell with the intention of helping you but... it just comes across as him belittling you. like you were never good enough for him, that he is so so much better than you and his standard is so far above you. in reality, he's just happy, he's sharing those things because he thinks it will help you. he's worried that he's not good enough for you. he feels like he has to prove himself, to show you just everything he's capable of, elevate the two of you, together. aww :(

horus: he knows about his charisma. like a beacon that sits on his head and forces everyone to like him. and that makes him question the reality of everyone around him. are you nice to him because he's Horus, or because you want to be nice to him? are you kissing him because he's Horus, or because you want to kiss him? it's a guessing game that he is losing. he truly believes that those closest to him do not care, and overtime he has developed trust issues beyond saving. he'd never show it though, but inside everything can feel like a lie. he'd have a way to work it out though - he's not stupid - but his way is long and extended, tests and games which may not be appreciated, and it may feel like you need to prove to him why you care about him. was your love not enough? it was. but he just needed to know it wasn't manufactured by that damn beacon.

lorgar: love... its something different for him. it's not love. it's reverence. you become everything to him, his faith, his truth, his gospel. you become divine to him in every way, perfection incarnate, holy as the gods around him. and for that reason, it is all written in fate for him. you are meant to be with him, you are meant to stand by his side. he would build temples in your name, he would burn planets to the ground if it meant you were happy. he would destroy worlds to bring you what you wanted. but, if you are unhappy with that? if you do not accept his love and devotion? that's heresy. that's denying the truth. and escaping him, it can only come through death. his one is quite dark, i'm very sorry about that. unless you like it, then happy to help.

vulkan: he wouldn't have many faults, aside from obvious primarch things, but I think he's full of worry. not insecurity, but concern, always worried about you, always thinking he may hurt you, worried that the feats he puts himself through may have an unnecessary effect on you. he knows that he puts himself in danger but he can't stop himself, he know your concern that maybe just one time, he won't come back - but he will still test the limits anyway. he'd never show you every part of him, afraid it may just be too much for you, and though he's never hiding anything sinister, he'd always be hiding something. and you know it. and he'd smile, assuring you its nothing. it's literally just something like he's never tried kissing you in a certain way in case he hurts you. or he was wounded fatally again but he's okay. probably better if he just tells you... but secrets in the name of happiness, I guess.

corax: sometimes he goes, for days. for weeks, months even. some may even question whether you've just made it up in your own head. it's not that he doesn't care, or he doesn't love you, but... he got lost in his own head. what he needed to do. and it doesn't help that when you are together, he's cold, he's reserved, and its like you've never even met before sometimes. he can handle all of this, he's secure in his feelings and is loyal to you beyond anyone else, but can you? it's not that he would abandon you, or betray you, but when you've waited for him to come him for months and there's still no sign of him, your thoughts may start to go somewhere less pleasant. you can ask him to stop, but it's never permanent, even when he's fully opened to you emotionally - he'd unintentionally fill you with doubt.

alpharius: oh its a bit of a mindfuck. one loves you, one doesn't. one whispers sweetly in your ear, one just whispers. one touches your shoulder and catches the tips of his fingers on the curve of your neck, the other one just touches your shoulder. it's little things. barely noticeable at first. something the everyday person would have just shrugged off. but after time, you do notice. that's not Alpharius. and it makes you mad. to think he sent someone else in his place? he had to, and you'd never understand, but he hates it as much as you. do you know how badly he wants it to be him that is with you each day? how insulting it is to know that he was sharing you? it drives him to the brink of insanity. it's truly the worst feeling in the world. but there's nothing you can do about it, and you'll have to live with knowing that maybe the man next to you isn't the alpharius you love.

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[adickaboutspoons]

get peer reviewed @bookshelfdreams #YES TO ALL OF THIS #stede is SO well written precisely because the kickoff to his story - leaving his wife and kids - is an objective dick move#and the show is *aware* that its a dick move. it offers explanations; but at no point does it excuse his actions #he has to own up to it and *really* put in the work to make it right. it's alright in the end; but that end doesn't come easy#and THIS is why it feels real and earned when in the end he is forgiven#mary and the kids forgive him; the story forgives him; we forgive him #because sometimes people do stupid selfish shit. sometimes people are assholes to those around them#and sometimes that's not malicious. sometimes that's born of pain#that doesn't make it okay to cause pain to others of course#but it doesn't make anyone an irredeemable monster either#sometimes things just sick for everyone#sometimes we make stupid decisions and can apologize for them#sometimes we cause harm even if we didn't mean to#and the show has a lot of sympathy for that#which is one of the things I love so much about it

look, as someone who absolutely loves Stede and who would give anything just to see him happy again, i can understand when people claim that they don’t like him very much because he “abandoned his wife and kids” and all that, but to say that he’s a narcissist and that he doesn’t care about his crew??? Stede Bonnet??? the guy who reads them little bedtime stories every night to help them fall asleep??? the guy who hung EVERY SINGLE ONE of the little flags his crew designed, like the proud dad that he is, just to make sure none of them felt upset and rejected?? the guy whose first concern and immediate reaction after waking up from a really bad fever dream/nightmare was to ask if his crew was okay and try to get up to go check on them even though he was in bed recovering from a stab wound after almost being hanged to death??? the guy who put up with Calico Jack even though he was destroying all the things that were so dear to him while also bullying and threatening him, but who didn’t even HESITATE to kick Jack out of the ship as soon as he hurt Buttons??? Stede Bonnet, the guy who claimed that he would succeed in his mission of becoming a pirate captain if he could only help his crew to grow as individuals??? the guy who encourages them to talk through their feelings and trauma and who shows them that it’s okay to be soft and to demonstrate/have emotions????

i mean, are we even talking about the same person??? 😭😭😭