#believe it or not this was not what i intended to draw today but it stuck in my head

[crowns-of-violets-and-roses]

Yeah, they’ve moved past Freud on to Lacan!

Okay, to be serious I was using Freud as a metonym for psychoanalytic bullshit in general (that is to say psychoanalysis). While psychoanalysis doesn’t hold the same amount of sway it used to in critical theory I don’t think it’s true to say the critical theorists have abandoned it. To give one example, Zizek is a psychoanalyst and his work drawing from it is well regarded by many literary theorists.

Textbooks introducing the field of critical theory to undergraduates and graduates have chapters on psychoanalysis but generally don't have ones on behaviourism or any other psychological theory. It isn’t presented as a theory of historical interest like new criticism is. They present psychoanalysis not just as a productive approach within current critical theory but as an accurate insightful view of how human psychology works:

Freud didn’t invent psychoanalytic principles; he discovered them operating in human beings. In other words, Freud named and explained principles of human behavior that were present long before he found them and that would be present even if he hadn’t described them. So any literary text that accurately describes human behavior or that is the product of an author’s unconscious (which we presume all creative works are to some extent) will include psychoanalytic principles whether or not the author had any awareness of those principles when writing the work.

Critical Theory Today : A User-Friendly Guide, Lois Tyson

This is what critical theorists actually believe!

Crisis and Critique, a major critical theory journal, had a whole issue dedicated to Lacan a few years ago. with an introduction claiming that “The present issue of Crisis and Critique starts from the premise that the time of psychoanalysis is not over but is actually only now about to come”. That doesn’t sound like a field that has abandoned psychoanalysis.

These examples are intended as illustrative rather than exhaustive but I hope suffice to show the influence psychoanalytic views continue to hold in critical theory. Which is not to say that some critical theorists don't draw on other physiological theories but I think psychoanalysis retains its preeminent position and that is on its own a damning indictment.

Not to fall into the "we need to make STEM majors take humanities classes or they'll be incapable of thinking critically" trap but I do kind of wish we could force literary theorists to take a few classes in psychology so that maybe they'd quit it with the Freudian bullshit

[xehanortsreport]

he didn't need to say all that though.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 16: The One About That Time I Shot an Arrow into the Air

“…It fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight.”

Archery has always been one of my fortes in life. I have absolutely no idea why, but I’m strangely quite good at it. My father, of course, attributes it to my ancestors; something passed down to me in my genes. So, I’m not sure that any arrow I shot into the air wouldn’t naturally find itself in the direction of its intended target. Today, that target would almost certainly be in the jugular of a Cerberus-like creature. Ah, yes, that mythical hellhound with three heads that guards the entrance to the Underworld. Not only does it dictate who can enter the realm of Hades, but also who can leave. And I’m not fond of creatures that would rather devour you alive than let you leave of your own freewill. Plus, could you imagine having three heads with three different personalities? Ugh, that would get confusing quickly. And, even worse, could you imagine all the in-fighting? I mean, an arrow to the throat – if it didn’t dismantle the beast – would almost certainly silence it. Luckily, we don’t have any three-headed dogs in this fandom…

Where am I going with this? Well – besides down a long and winding path that draws attention to the fact I enjoy poetry and archery – actually, I chose today’s poem for a specific purpose. If you haven’t figured it out from my previous cracks about the Kraken, I also like Greek mythology. In fact, learning about Greek mythology at around the age of 11 – yes, that defiant age where we’re no longer interested in Barbie (not that I was ever interested in Barbie) but we’re also not cool enough to be considered teenagers – was the first time I remember finding myself “thinking outside of the box.” And by that, I mean asking the question that I probably should not have said out loud: “If Zeus is a myth, does that mean God is fake, too?” That went down like a lead balloon (and, I hope, no one takes offense to reading that now; it is not meant with any disrespect). My mother was, of course, telephoned by the school and, when I returned home, she greeted me with (something along the lines of) a simple: “Did they answer your question? No? Then I suggest you find it for yourself.”

We all have our own truth, don’t we? Even in this fandom, we are each tasked with choosing our own path. Weeding out facts from speculation and speculation from rumor. Choosing what we want to believe over what is being pushed on us. Overcoming our willingness to follow blindly versus our refusal to be backed into corner. I suppose that’s why I’ve always liked Greek mythology (and, perhaps, storytelling in general) – because it helps us navigate life’s challenges by better understanding human nature. It’s also one of the reasons why my favorite story has always been the trials and tribulations of Eros and Psyche.

Ah-ha! See, I told you I had a purpose for bringing up those damn arrows!

Yes, Eros was the Greek equivalent of the Roman Cupid; that weird little dude who fired love arrows like a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. But Eros wasn’t some creepy little cherub in a cloth diaper; he was the devastatingly handsome God of Love. And he fell in love with the equally beautiful human Psyche. That part about her being human, however,managed to get Psyche some major side-eye from Eros’s mother, Aphrodite. In retaliation for humans worshiping Psyche’s beauty over her own, Aphrodite sent Eros down to earth to pierce Psyche with one of his love arrows so she would fall madly in love with a hideous monster (unfortunately for the Cerberus, it wasn’t them). But Eros defied his mother and, unbeknownst to Aphrodite, kept Psyche for himself hidden away in a castle. There, Psyche lived – mostly happily – with Eros visiting her every night. Eros promised Psyche she could live there indefinitely so long as she never looked upon his face (hence why he only visited her in darkness). But humans have this uncanny knack for being curious and, of course, Psyche peeked. Well, fuck! Haha, I won’t ruin the rest of the story for you except to say, yes, Eros was royally peeved at Psyche’s betrayal, fled their home, and sought refuge with his bitchy mother (because, of course, he did). Devastated, Psyche went clambering up to her pseudo-mother-in-law’s shrine to beg for forgiveness and Aphrodite, being a bit of a bitchy goddess, gave Psyche a series of impossible tasks to complete to prove her worthiness. Amazingly Psyche did in fact complete each of these four tasks but only because she managed to get a little help from some fantastical friends. Well, except for that final task for which Psyche was warned – don’t look in the fucking box. Damn humans.

Like all stories passed down from generation to generation, there are multiple versions of this myth, particularly when it comes to who helped Psyche complete her four tasks. Sometimes it’s one god(dess), other times it’s multiple; sometimes it’s earth’s creatures (the ants, the plants, and the flying things). But my favorite version is the one where Eros was the one pulling those invisible strings – or, at the very least, keeping an eye on Psyche from the shadows – because no matter how angry he was with her, Eros still loved Psyche and wanted to protect her.

Why do I bring this story up? Well, for starters, if you didn’t notice (because you were too focused on carriages and mirrors), Bridgerton Season 3 made quite a few parallels between Colin and Penelope and Eros and Psyche, even referring to the latter by name at the end of the fourth episode. The show also brushed on the importance of trust, the consequences of betrayal, and the idea that love can conquer all. Funny thing is I never thought Colin to be much of an Eros; he made a better Psyche, in my opinion. I mean, he was the one to peek into Penelope’s secret life!

But Colin’s real-life counterpart, Luke, makes a rather entertaining Eros.

On December 16, when Luke reposted to his Instagram stories a link to Nicola’s “Part 1” of her 2024 Year, the fandom went wild. And I’m not talking about just the Lukolas going insane with excitement; the Jakolas were having a field day, too – but not in a good way. The unease they’d almost certainly felt with those coordinated airplane and “Polin” posts from October returned with a vengeance when Luke resurfaced in support of Nicola – the woman for whom he consistently comes out hiding. I realized then that the one person who could simultaneously make the Lukolas’ hearts flutter and the Adjacents’ blood boil was Luke (i.e., our Eros could make Psyche rejoice while making Aphrodite lash out in anger).

If you really think about it, Luke has pulled us out of the black waters of the River Styx multiple times, making him the perfect Eros to our Psyche. Yes, our Psyche. The fandom is absolutely the Psyche of this story. After all, the fandom was the one who betrayed Luke with our collective reaction to Papsmear (but, in the fandom’s defense, that was a shitty fucking day). And, of course, that wench Aphrodite is collectively all the side story bullshit, from the Adjacent narratives to rag-mags sticking their ever-growing noses into places they don't belong.

As we finish out the year, I thought it would be fun to give Luke some credit where credit is due. In other words, I thought I’d highlight four times Luke “Eros-ed” (i.e., “rescued”) us from some mucky ass shit. This is not every moment Luke came out of hiding to do something wonderful; these are simply my top four moments where I believe Luke single-handedly resuscitated the fandom. You’re welcome to share your best Luke moments in the comments.

No. 1 - That Post-Papsmear Thing That Everyone Ignored:

Fuck, yes.

I am starting with the most overlooked event in the Lukola-verse – Luke’s post-Papsmear Cressida story. This is the taproot that keeps my faith in Lukola from falling over during a storm – Luke taking one for Team Lukola by promoting Season 3 using the scene from Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening. Yeah, yeah, Luke totally missed the target with that post but – again, in the fandom’s defense – everyone was still reeling from the sudden-but-not-so-sudden materialization of Antonia at the London premiere. In hindsight, though, you know you want to give him an “atta boy” for basically throwing shade at the Lutonia narrative while using a massive social media platform to do so. It was jaw-dropping, brilliant, and ballsy as fuck.

If you’re totally lost about how entertaining this Cressida story was, go read Entry 1 to be my blog. But, seriously, how have you not read it already?

No. 2 – Delivering the Cake:

Alright, fast forward three months (yes, three goddamn months!) to September 7 when Luke posted pictures from his stay at the Puente Romano resort.

No big deal, right?

Wrong!

It was a big fucking deal because, for starters, Antonia creeped in and posted random pictures of herself at roughly the same time Luke posted his resort pictures. And, of course, Luke had to like Antonia’s Instagram post. To make matters worse (gasp!) Luke’s had palm trees in his pictures which were oh, so reminiscent (but, not really) of palm trees posted by Antonia the previous day to her Instagram stories. Oh my God! And, then the real kicker? Luke’s slide deck included him eating a picture of himself from the London premiere sans Nicola! The horror! I mean, what probably started out as a cute post by Luke turned into a full-on Lukola heart attack within 30 minutes or less!

But then Luke pulled out a defibrillator and revived the fandom. Almost immediately.

After presumably hearing the cries from the Lukola fandom that he’d cut Nicola from the London premiere image, Luke demonstrated through his Instagram stories that (a) he was eating part of a cake (he was even darling enough to put the cake emoji with a smiley face), and (b) that the cake never had Nicola’s image on it to begin with (meaning, he didn’t remove her from it). Thank you for that clarification, Luke. Seriously, the fandom appreciated it.

After they recovered from their near-death experience, the Lukolas finally took the time to look at the images Luke posted. A not-so-random chaise lounge; a random white shirt; a restaurant called El Pimpi (which is a word used for the people who delivered messages to a ship’s crew and passengers); Luke throwing up the peace sign with his now infamous digits in – what appeared to be – the reflection of a glass table; and a reference to cake. It was Lukola- and/or Polin-coded shit. And, to make it just a smidge better, there was no visible reference to Antonia anywhere.

And, yes, I will cut in here to acknowledge that Antonia would, on October 25, include a lone picture of a balcony which was identical to the one Luke posted in his – what I like to call – “clarification stories” from September 7. Do I care about Antonia’s balcony? Not in the least. Could she have been at the resort? Sure. In fact, I’ve always found the idea of Antonia being present quite comical since Luke made it fairly obvious he omitted something (ahem, someone) from his Instagram post and instead filled it with random shit that seemed Lukola- and/or Polin-coded. Plus, if you want me to be perfectly honest, “insinuation” posts from Antonia stopped doing it for me months ago.

Back to what I saying… We must give Luke a round of applause for placating an entire fandom with something as simple as a cake emoji. Bravo, bravo!

No. 3 – Shutting Down the Mean Girls:

We closed out September with Antonia riling up the fandom by posting Instagram story after Instagram story, none of which were worth a second glance from a Lukola except for the “phone screen” one (see “Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, ‘Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?’” for reference). Oh, wait, there is another story – just for my own amusement – on October 1, Antonia reshared a story where she was labeled “Aphroditi.” Rather convenient for my story today, isn't it? Any ways, the Lukolas were a bit high-strung by October 2 when Nicola announced via Instagram that she had been named as part of the Time 100. Luke liked the post – but apparently to the haters on X he didn’t do it motherfucking fast enough. These weird-ass people do actually exist – the ones that genuinely believe Instagram likes (and the speed thereof) equate to true love.

Any ways, Luke apparently decided he was having none of that bullshit and stepped in on October 3 with his Polin-themed “Mean Girls” story. It was a throwback to a conversation he and Nicola had had in, I believe, 2022 on, haha, X.

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.”

“It’s October 3rd.”

Luke captioned the story, “Xx.”

Not only did the fandom rejoice that Luke had returned to post something after nearly a month away, but the post included a throwback to Nicola, and it came on the heels of Halley Brisker’s now legendary “Nicola lately” post. Yeah, the one with Luke in the background (seriously, convince me it was someone else). Luke’s story also seemed to be one hell of a clapback to a rabid pack animal on X who faulted Luke for not leaving a comment on Nicola’s Time 100 post.

“Xx.”

No. 4 – The Littlest Things:

I debated over choosing Luke’s People magazine interview for the fourth moment, but that interview – although it made the fandom incredibly happy – didn’t pull our heads out of our own asses. So, I decided instead to go with the little things Luke has done over the past few months, namely, joining in on the Like Wars but in his own oh, so subtle way.

Let’s start with Antonia’s September 21 post of – honestly, who the hell cares? She posted and we knew Luke’s obligatory like was coming. It just took 10 ½ hours for Luke to get to it and it was only given after Nicola posted to her Instagram stories pictures from a concert she had attended. Was the fandom a bit deflated Luke liked Antonia’s post? Of course! But it was also fun to see the like come hours after Luke had already been online and on the heels of Nicola popping up online.

On October 11, we had a similar event happen. Antonia posted to her grid and Luke seemingly ignored it for roughly five hours. But, while Luke was ignoring her post, Antonia was going hard at it with Instagram stories and TikTok videos (Nicola, for her part, seemed to be playing her own game on social media during this time). Luke finally liked Antonia’s post and Antonia went silent thereafter. Then, on October 12, Luke officially made it back from his October 4 “Brb” moment and posted “Somewhere in Mayfair” to his Instagram stories. Let the fandom rejoice!

But I’m not stopping there. Let’s not forget about Luke and Nicola’s coordinated “Polin” pictures on October 21 or that, while Antonia was “rolling pasta” on November 17, Luke made it a point to go back and like Nicola’s Dr. Who post from November 15. On December 6, when Luke coughed up a like to Antonia’s grid post, he also handed a like out to Nicola at the same time (and a few others). Do you see a pattern starting to form?

Honestly, I believe Luke is owed a standing ovation for the way he has taken control of his own narrative and managed to deflect from the so-called “importance” of these bullshit Instagram likes. Although Nicola has historically attempted to distract the fandom from Antonia, in my opinion, it was always Luke’s responsibility to diminish the importance of Antonia’s role in his story. And, for the past several months, he has been doing just that – in the quietest way possible.

I’ve decided Luke is a bit like a shadow. Inconspicuous – sometimes even completely invisible – but when the light hits just right, it’s impossible to ignore his immense presence.

When Luke posts, or when he coyly plays around with the Instagram likes – even when he likes Nicola’s posts – it somehow resonates differently with the fandom. Nicola could post her year-end stuff and the fandom would be, like, “Oh, that’s cool.” But, when Luke reshares her post to his stories? “Holy fuck, that’s awesome!” It's a "different energy on set." Somewhere in the middle of all the bullshit that goes on within the fandom, Luke found his own truth. The “Bad Guy” who was “on a break” during Hot Boy Summer somehow became our hero; the shadowy figure that pulls us out of the water and sets our heads back on straight. Over and over again. It's been so subtle, we've barely even noticed.

I’m going to end this entry with the Longfellow poem I quoted at the beginning, mainly because I like it, but also because it’s about something that cannot be easily seen once released into the world but, if found, can have an everlasting effect on us.

“I shot an arrow into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight;

“I breathed a song into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for who has sight so keen and strong; that it can follow the flight of song?

“Long, long afterward, in an oak; I found the arrow, still unbroke; and the song, from beginning to end; I found again in the heart of a friend.”

P.S. In the story, Psyche is rescued by Eros (hurray!) and is made the Goddess of the Soul.

[theobsessivesideblog]

Trust Issues

An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.

Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well

————————

He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 

But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 

He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 

“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 

“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”

“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.

You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.

He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 

His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 

“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”

He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 

“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 

Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 

“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”

“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”

“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”

“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”

His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”

You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.

“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 

His brow furrows in confusion. 

“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”

Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 

“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.

“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”

“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 

“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 

“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”

[wwaheoh]

hehe, i know im probably not the first and definitely won't be the last to ask, but we need a part 3 of the rejected confession series!! whether its a happy ending of reader and the character getting together or just making up and staying friends (or forever parting ways) we need closure!! so when you think you are ready for it, could we possibly have a final part? :,)

“Reconciliation”, Zenless Zone Zero x gnReader

Von Lycaon, Anby Demara, Zhu Yuan

a/n: thank yall so much for the support! its meant so much! i hope everyone enjoys the "good ending" to the Unrequited Love series.

a/n²: also thanks to that one anonymous requester, loved your ideas and helped a bunch when writing! hope i did well in realizing it!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The day before heading to the scheduled meet, you were stressed out of your mind. Having made up your mind, you decided to go, whether it be for reconciliation or- no, you shouldn’t think so optimistically. Maybe this was just a way for them to berate you for ghosting them before cutting ties forever…

With that optimistic thought, you made your way back home, finally getting off the bench you’d been glued to with thought after the brief encounter with the shark-girl. Sorta embarrassing to be told to fix your relationship by a high school girl but at this point any push that didn’t get you deeper into becoming a shut-in was better than none.

Stepping into your home, you shut and locked the door behind you before heading to your room, beelining straight for the closet. Sliding it open, you began to look through the hanged clothing, contemplating what you should wear. Something cute? Something bold? Something that you’d think he’d like or something you felt comfortable in?

After several minutes of this, you finally picked out an outfit, now onto actually getting sleep. Setting the clothes onto a chair, you went to your bathroom and undressed, putting on sleepwear and throwing yourself onto the bed.

A wave of exhaustion passed through you, wow, you were a lot more tired than you thought…

///

The outing with you had been going well, Lycaon thought, today was a beautiful day, thankfully Rina was aiding Corin today so he had no worries about being forced to cut it short and attend to any accidents their junior was prone to.

Strolling by the pier of Lumina Square, water a sunset orange as thr Sun began to set into the horizon, you stopped walking, with him following, a sign of confusion on his face.

“Hey, Lycaon?” You spoke nervously, demeanor slightly shaking. Worry began to draw in, not outwardly showing it, not wanting to make you more nervous in speaking. Something that he usually did when with clients- unconsciously leading him to thinking of you as a client rather than his friend at the moment.

Then you confessed.

His mind stopped- cool breaking as the words spilled out of your mouth and into his ears. Forcing his tail to not wag, he was about to reply. Yet what came out of his mouth was not what he intended, having forced his brain into ‘work mode’ to protect himself from all the possibilities of what you might have said.

So instead of accepting your feelings, happily rejoicing and telling you that he returned them wholeheartedly. He… rejected you. The words tumbled out of his mouth, rushed, the professional tone he used with clients slipped in. As if he were a prisoner in his body.

The look you gave him immediately showed he screwed up. Unable to approach as you began to cry, not wanting to take back the words- not because he believed them, but because he believed you would think he was simply pitying you and throwing a bone.

“I’ll start the car up. It’s getting late.”

“I- it’s- hic- it’s f-fine. I’ll get home on m-my own.”

“I must insi-”

“I said it’s fine!”

His ears drooping, wild guilt painted on his face, internally berating himself for having somehow messed up the interaction of his dreams. He went back to his car, turning it on and beginning the drive back home.

Atleast, that’s what he led you to believe. Instead, he parked in a nearby alley before shadowing you- unwilling to not see you home.

The day after that, he texted you, yet you never responded. Days of being left on ‘Read’ became days of you not opening his text messages at all.

It had begun to get at him, his voice became colder than usual with clients, still professional but with more sharpness to it. The others noticed their boss acting like this, yet were unable to pry into the why. It was a shared silent agreement between them and their boss, a wall between their professional work and personal lives. He met with Master Phatheon a few times and even they noticed something was off with the butler.

One day Ellen overheard him murmuring, quickly figuring out who he was so hung up about and what had happened- with some aid from Miss Rina. Unbeknownst to Lycaon, she met up with you unexpectedly, getting you to meet with Lycaon at the cafe. With Rina “booking an appointment” with a client, for Lycaon to meet with at the very same time.

///

Stepping into the cafe, bell jingling behind you, looking around the cafe before finding the spot Ellen had directed you to, tilting her head to the farthest seat with her signature bored look and lollipop in mouth. Nodding gratefully, you made your way to the table and sat down. Nerves ablaze, you fixed your clothes, making sure nothing was out of place. Worries bubbled up in your mind, thoughts of what could go wrong swirling in the bubbling soup of anxiousness.

Silver fur snapped you out of your spiraling, the Therian that’d been on your mind now realized in front of you. He mirrored your expression of shock, not having thought to see you again, before he quickly closed the gap, holding you tightly.

“I am so sorry.” Breathless, he looked deep into your eyes, “I had not meant to say what I did. I do wish to be with you. If you’d have me.” Not a man to screw up an opportunity like this- especially after having messed up so badly, any and all grievances be damned- he would say his peace and lay his heart into your hands, to either hold or crush at your whim.

You returned his hold, tears welling up as the two of you embraced, hearts swelling with joy as his hard, fluffy body pressed tightly against you, finally together once more. Sobbing openly as finally, the two of you were together, this time as lovers.

It was a little awkward stepping out of the cafe, with some customers very obviously glancing at the two of you after your two very public reunion…

After Anby had run from your confession, she spent a lot of time rewatching movies. Romance and tragedy specifically, trying to find a solution to what has transpired. The rest of the Cunning Hares were confused about her seemingly out of nowhere interest in those genres, usually seeing her watch action or thrillers.

There was an aching in her heart, one she had originally attributed to the loss of a friend, yet it felt stronger, much stronger. As she watched more and more, she came across an animated film, one of a failed relationship, of how being apart makes the heart grow fonder, ending with the two getting together, stronger than before.

That’s what she wanted.

While originally she was true to herself, only wanting you as a friend, time revealed that she wanted more, especially after forcing herself to dodge into alleys after even a glimpse of your hair, oftentimes leading to odd looks from the Cunning Hares or Phaethon. She wanted to be closer to you, like how the protagonists in the films were.

Standing up, resolution in her heart and an apology on her tongue, she exited the door and began making her way to your abode, moonlight and street lamps lighting the way.

///

You couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a one-off occurrence either. Thoughts powered by the late night struck harshly, leaving lasting impressions that made sleep impossible. Especially those of a particular silver-haired girl.

Sighing, you shook your head, as if to shake the thoughts physically out, getting up from your bed and heading to the kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator, you grabbed a cold pitcher of water and a cup from the cupboard, turning the pitcher and letting the cool liquid spill into the cup, only turning it back upright as it neared the top.

Putting the pitcher back into the fridge before closing it, you grabbed the cup and steadily began to drink from it. Refreshing, always helping whenever those thoughts arrive…

A notification from your phone rang out, having left it in your bedroom you began to make your way to said room, when a knock at the door stopped you. Nothing good ever came from someone at your door at near midnight.

Grabbing a nearby object- your hand finding the handle of a knife, you quietly made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole, you saw a familiar face that made your muscles freeze.

Anby, staring right back at you. In her usual getup, with the same mono-look, but a hint of anxiousness hidden in her eyes.

Setting the knife down onto the counter, you slowly opened up the door, nerves threatening a rebellion against your body as you opened the door.

Finally face to face with Anby, without the blurriness and fish-eye view that the peephole provided, you could see how less kept she was than usual. Eyes tinged with red- a sign of screen overuse. Sweat, faster breaths, a flush of red coloring her pale cheeks.

The two of you stared at each other for a second before she quickly closed in.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, monotone as it was, a hint of breathiness from her seemingly having sprinted here from wherever she was prior. “I shouldn’t have ran.”

You didn’t know what to do, worried that nodding or shaking your head would give the wrong impression- whatever the impression you wanted to give was lost to you.

You just stood there, listening to what she had to say.

“In the movies they always get together after the first confession. But it didn’t feel right at the time- but it also didn’t feel right saying no.”

A silence before you decided to share your two cents.

“Anby-” her attention diverted back to you straightaway, “How about this. We date for a bit- say, a year, then if you feel like it’s right, then we can continue. If not, then atleast we tried…”

“Just don’t run again, even being friends would be better than never seeing you again.”

She quickly closed the gap between the two of you, embracing you tightly, with you following suit. “Okay…” her voice was shaky, her grip on you was not.

Okay actually it was too tight- “Anby I think you’re gonna break my spine!”

Stepping out of your assigned police car, you nodded to your partner as they exited the vehicle and went to leave the premises. Qingyi having gone back to Zhu Yuan’s side after the one day the two of you were assigned together, message delivered, you wondered how she pulled off getting to be your partner.

You began to make your way to Zhu Yuan’s desk, with her filling out some final papers regarding what happened to the blimp atop of the Ballet Twins Towers. A situation that had been narrowly avoided ending in catastrophe by an inorganic citizen being insusceptible to the knock-out gasses found in the systems of the victims. Her squadron had been the first to the scene, being stopped at the first tower before being forced to evacuate and find another way up by several explosives being detonated at the bridge.

It was a headache for everyone involved, happy that the worse situation happened but not looking forward to the amount of paperwork needed to be filed, especially since the prime suspect of a major case and now this case had gone off-grid with the blimp to who knows where now.

Thankfully it seemed Zhu Yuan didn’t mind it too much, all too happy to do her work, no matter how monotonous it seemed. Turning off the computer for the day and filing papers into cabinets, she had been adding a sprinkle of water into the tomato plant she’d been growing, thoughts swirling as she continued with the monotonous task.

///

It’d been days since she last saw you. Invitations declined, only glimpses of you before you seemingly disappeared into the crowd or entered somewhere she couldn’t follow. Her days had been growing duller, work becoming a distraction to her problems.

Her mom had commented on this, citing worries about how she’d been seemingly throwing herself deeper into work and training, questioning the near-null appearances of you in recent times. She hated to lie to them, yet didn’t want to confront the facts.

She’d been too late to tell you how she felt. She would never get the opportunity again...

One day Qingyi told Zhu Yuan that she'd have to stay a little later, orders given to her to give to Zhu Yuan a little extra work. While to most, this’d be an annoyance, Zhu Yuan readily accepted the new work, not wanting to go back to her lonely apartment.

///

You knocked on the doorframe- breaking her out of her thoughts, face lighting up as she laid eyes on you.

“Uh, hey Zhu Yuan…” She set the water-can down and stood up hastily. “Hey! Uhm…” The two of you stood awkwardly as you tried to form the words you wanted to say.

“I’m sorry.” Zhu Yuan looked at you, worry on her face, urging you to continue. While she had been hurt from how you were seemingly avoiding her, she still looked at you as a close friend.

“It’s… stupid of me. But I wanted to tell you that…”

You confessed, deciding to put all your trust in Qingyi and just do it. Ripping the proverbial band-aid off, the words tumbled out.

She stood there, wide-eyed as you finished. There was a brief silence before tears began to bunch at the edge of her eyes. Your heart stopped, worried that you’d done something wrong before she closed the gap and embraced you, repeating “Yes!” and “I like you too!”, nearly squealing in delight.

You were dazed from how hard she was shaking you, before finally getting a hold. “So.. you’re not into Qingyi?”

“Huh? No, where’d you get that idea?”

“Ahh…” it was a little embarrassing to admit this in hindsight, “I thought since… you looked at her like that, that you…”

She giggled a little, before stopping quickly, “Sorry- I- I looked like that because I was thinking of you. Just, I looked away anytime you looked at me since I didn’t know if you returned my feelings…”

“Ah…”

Finally love bloomed, no longer covered by the walls of uncertainty.

[severussnapemylove]

Sometimes I wonder if JKR even realises she wrote Snape as a victim of sexual assault. Because he unambiguously is, and she writes him as traumatised by the incident. So it seems mad to suggest that she might not have thought through the implications of her own writing, but if she did get it, I am baffled by how sympathetic she remains to James. Harry is never really made to confront how vile his actions were, because he looks for comfort from Remus and Sirius rather than telling Hermione who would react in horror and disgust, and he gets to skip over it completely in The Prince’s Tale. JKR clearly considers James a hero, and has confirmed that in interviews. She’s even more sympathetic to Lily, who is portrayed as an absolute paragon of goodness, morality and virtue, despite her being attracted enough to James *after* he publicly commits sexual assault on a less privileged kid to marry him! What a malfunctioning moral compass. JKR also has no sympathy at all for Tom Riddle Sr, who is a victim of rape, and his rapist Merope Gaunt, who is herself strongly implied to be a victim of incestual abuse, is condemned by Dumbledore and the narrative not for what she did to Tom but for not being as courageous as nice, pretty, middle class Lily Evans because Merope committed the crime of…dying in childbirth. The only conclusions I can draw from this is that JKR is the sort of ´feminist’ who doesn’t believe men can be the victims of sexual crimes, and that deep down she thinks being a member of the underclass who can’t drag themselves out of it alone is indicative of moral failure.

This! All of this!

I don't think she puts it together at all. She's incredibly tone deaf about a lot of the abuse she puts these characters through. And with the blasé attitude she has about male victims of SA in the books definitely goes along her brand of toxic radical "feminism". It looks like she just doesn't recognise the severity of what happens to these characters. On top of Severus's attack and Tom Riddle Sr, remember that Ron was roofied with love spell that was intended for Harry, and Moaning Myrtle is incredible predatory towards the boys. Sadly, this attitude carries over from the author to a chunk of the fandom too. I've seen so much dismissiveness of the assaults against the male characters, especially Severus. And it's even more disappointing when I see people who have experienced abuse saying that what Severus endured "didn't count" as abuse. Had someone today on another platform having an absolute meltdown at me, saying that what happened in SWM wasn't sa, and that he wasn't traumatised from his abuse and if his anger was caused by trauma then why wasn't Harry the same. Seriously, you can't tell another person that what they experienced wasn't "bad enough to be abuse", that's a very warped mentality. Survivors are supposed to support each other, not belittle each other's trauma. Also, what book did they read that they think Harry doesn't have issues from the life he endured? He has different issues than Severus, yes, because he had different life experiences and everyone's reactions to trauma are different.

"Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage."

WTF is this!!!??? This is just plain victim blaming. "Your mothers' courage"? Lily had supportive, loving parents, was loved by her peers, admired by her teachers, had a very comfortable, secure life. Merope was physically and mentally abused for her whole life. They really criticized the poverty stricken, abuse victim for not being as "strong" as the Mary Sue of the Wizarding World??? Toxic as hell. Personally, as someone who has dealt with self-harm, mental illness and generational trauma in my family, this attitude of "they weren't strong enough" is nauseating and infuriating.

There really is a disturbing trend of extreme poverty equalling a dead-end life with no hope. Which is again an extremally toxic and judgmental attitude and a very dangerous message to put in a book aimed to children. The attitude towards abuse, poverty and indecent assault of men is beyond problematic, not only in the books but in far too many members of the fandom.

I could rant more but this will go on for pages.

[thatgentlewife]

Welcome to My Blog!

Hi there, lovely! I’m so glad you’re here. I’m a 20-year-old wife, homemaker, and most importantly, a servant of Jesus Christ. I was blessed to marry my wonderful husband in November 2024, and every day, I strive to honor God by embracing biblical womanhood, nurturing my marriage, and cultivating a home filled with love, warmth, and faith.

I believe in living a life that reflects God’s perfect design—one of gentleness, purity, and devotion. My heart is set on serving Christ first and foremost, and second to Him, my husband, whom I joyfully submit to as my leader and protector. I cherish the beauty of traditional values, which shape every part of my life—spiritually, emotionally, and physically.

What I Stand For

✨ The Sanctity of Life

This blog is pro-life, because every child is fearfully and wonderfully made by God (Psalm 139:13-16). Life begins at conception, and every baby has a God-given purpose. I believe in supporting women with love, resources, and guidance so that no mother feels alone in choosing life.

✨ The Dangers of Pornography

This blog is anti-porn, because pornography destroys hearts, marriages, and intimacy as God intended it. It turns real love into something selfish and empty, leading to addiction, shame, and broken relationships. I believe in fighting for purity and God-honoring relationships that reflect true, selfless love.

✨ Biblical Marriage & Submission

I believe in God’s design for marriage—a covenant between one man and one woman. As a wife, I embrace submission as a beautiful, biblical calling, trusting my husband’s leadership and honoring him in my words, actions, and heart. Love, respect, and obedience to God’s Word create a strong, joyful, and lasting marriage.

✨ Domestic Discipline

I believe that domestic discipline is a personal choice that should be made mutually and consensually between a husband and wife. While it’s not for everyone, I support a couple’s right to practice it if they believe it strengthens their marriage. When approached with love, respect, and biblical principles, it can provide structure, accountability, and deeper trust. As long as both spouses agree and it is done in a way that honors their relationship, I see it as a valid and beneficial dynamic for those who choose it.

✨ Biblical Womanhood & Femininity

I am passionate about biblical femininity, modesty, and creating a home that reflects Christ’s love. I believe true beauty isn’t just about how we look, but about having a gentle, quiet spirit (1 Peter 3:4). In a world that devalues womanhood, I strive to embrace my role as a wife and future mother with joy and grace.

✨ My Perspective on Feminism

I do not agree with today’s version of feminism, which rejects traditional femininity, submission, and the beauty of God’s design. However, I do believe women should have the right to vote and make choices for themselves. Women are not less valuable than men, but we are beautifully different, and our strengths should be celebrated rather than diminished by a culture that seeks to erase them.

✨ My Beliefs on Gender & Sexuality

I personally do not believe men can become women or that women can become men. I do not agree with the LGBTQ lifestyle, and you will not find me in support of it on this blog. However, I have nothing against those who choose to live this way—you are a valuable human being, just like the rest of us. My belief is simply that marriage was created by God to be between a biological man and a biological woman. If you disagree, this may not be the blog for you.

A Few Things About Me

• I love to cook! (I once dreamed of being a chef, but my heart is too tender for the food industry.)

• Children are my joy! I work in childcare and find so much fulfillment in nurturing little hearts.

• I love reading! (The Phantom Tollbooth is my favorite book!)

• I enjoy poetry, songwriting, and drawing. (I may not be the best artist, but I love creating beauty in every form!)

• I make soap, lotion, and tinctures as I learn more about natural living.

• I strive to be a good, submissive wife and grow in grace, patience, and humility every day.

Why I Started This Blog

Marriage is a journey, and I want to share mine with you—the joys, the lessons, and the ways God is shaping me into a better wife and homemaker. My goal is to encourage other women to embrace biblical womanhood, cherish their marriages, and build homes that reflect God’s love. ❤️

If you value faith, femininity, and the beauty of a God-centered life, you’re in the right place. I pray that this blog blesses and encourages you as we grow together in grace and truth.

With love,

thatgentlewife

[leighsartworks216]

Not my fandom, but #15 for Zayne?

Intrusion

Zayne x gn!Reader

Prompt from this list

15 - hugging each other

I didn't intend to actually write these tonight bc I have a lot of downtime in the morning and I Need Sleep, buuuuut this one hit different idk

Warnings: hurt/comfort, caretaking, pre or early relationship, depression, food, hugging, crying

Word Count: 857

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Zayne knocks on the door lightly. It's late. Far later than is normal to be visiting. He'd hate to wake up one of the neighbors and give them a bad impression of you, especially right now.

You'd been practically radio silent all day. He's so accustomed to you sending him emojis and random videos, to have absolutely nothing come in was disconcerting. On top of that, when he messaged you asking if you were okay, it took several hours before you responded.

I'm fine. Just tired, sorry.

Did you stay up late last night?

Yeah, I guess.

Are you feeling well?

Don't worry about me, Zayne. I'm perfectly fine :)

Each insistence only stirred that uncertainty in his gut. You may not want to inconvenience him, but he needs your intrusion on his life. Otherwise, it would be the same, day to day. A cold, dark existence, with a sweet treat the only thing to draw him away from the mundanity.

He knocks again, slightly louder.

The door opens a crack. Your face is obscured in shadow, hidden from the dim light of the hallway, but from what he can tell, you look rough. You don't meet his eyes. You just stare at his tie.

"H-Hey," you draw out, trying to act casual. Maybe he'd believe the act if you weren't hiding. "What brings you here, doc?"

He inhales. Why must you keep insisting on putting barriers between you? "I'm not on duty, at the moment," he reminds you curtly, but his tone softens as he continues. "I wanted to make sure you ate something today, so I got takeout from a restaurant on my list."

You stare at the plastic bag of takeout he holds. He can see the gears turning. The hesitation as you realize the amount of food he's gotten. "Zayne, I-I can't possibly eat that much."

"I ordered some for myself. I haven't had a chance to eat dinner yet." He nods his head slightly toward the door. "May I come in?"

He watches with bated breath as you debate your options. He can see the way your eyes flicker from the bag to him, like you're weighing the pros and cons. You get food, but you have to let him in. From the faint growl of your stomach, it would seem that the choice is made for you.

You slowly open the door.

The apartment is dark, which isn't surprising. Still, Zayne navigates it with no issues. He toes off his shoes and replaces them with the guest house slippers with familiarity. You trail behind as he heads for the kitchen. He adjusts the lights to be set to a dim glow, allowing for enough light that he can see what he's doing without being too harsh on your eyes. Though, now that he can see, he can see the heavy bags under your red-raw eyes.

"Did I wake you?" He keeps his voice purposefully low.

You stand by the doorway, arms crossed, as you watch him bustle about. He retrieves two plates from the cabinet and divides the containers from the bag into what's his and what's yours. As he does so, he removes the lid from one of the containers and slides it over to you. The warm aroma of soup fills the room.

You shake your head. He watches from the corner of his eye as you sidle over, slippers scraping quietly against the tile floor. When you pick up the cup of soup, it feels like a brick has been removed from the wall.

He transfers food to the plates. A healthy serving, to be sure. He tries to keep the amounts relatively similar, but it's clear he's added slightly more to your plate than his own. Once they're ready, he sets your plate in front of your seat - designated as such from the times he's come over in the past - and his plate in front of his seat. Before he sits, he reaches up into the cabinets once again to retrieve some glasses.

Arms wrap around him from behind, nearly startling him into dropping the cups. Your head rests against his back. Your hands hold onto each other, as though resting them against him would be the thing to make him pull away.

"Thank you..." you mumble, only just loud enough for him to make out.

He moves like he's trying not to startle a wild animal as he lowers two glasses to the countertop. He sets a hand on your arm, to keep you from letting go, as he turns in your embrace. His arms wrap themselves over your shoulders, around your back, hands flat against you to draw you into his chest. Your hold tightens around him. Your hands fist his work shirt. Your head is tucked securely under his chin.

He says nothing of the way you shudder as your breath catches in your lungs. Nor does he say anything as he feels a wet spot form in his collar.

Instead, he rubs your back in soothing motions. "Please tell me the next time you're hurting," he pleas in a whisper. "Don't shut me out."

---

I'm gonna put my little end note here that I had on AO3 cuz I still feel like gloating:

"I feel the need to gloat about the title because it goes both ways!!! Zayne needs your intrusion on his life because otherwise he'd be no better than Dawnbreaker, but you also need his intrusion on your life to help you through whatever's bringing you down!!! Very proud of this"

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @hawtlineblingz

[sheepwavehdg]

I am generally disappointed with the place the HDG Foundational Works have ended up in among the broader readership and fandom of the setting.

Despite the fact that the foundational works page literally says it is not intended to be the definitive introduction to the setting, it is common in spaces devoted to the fandom for it to be presented that you absolutely must read all of them to understand HDG enough to read other stories.

And like... No???

It's meant to be stories that should be read before writing and to answer questions about the setting. That is literally what the page says. I have, however, seen readers lament that because abscisson is too dark for them or divaricated is too long, they feel they cannot read anything else in the setting. I have seen people genuinely believe there are exactly seven stories in all of HDG (because of the unintended misleading design on the website that implies that)

Every story an author makes should stand on its own to some degree. Certainly, mine are all written assuming the reader is brand new to the setting(though I dont think any of them is an ideal introduction, I make sure a reader wont be completely clueless). If someone is looking to get into HDG, I vastly prefer to ask them the question "what kind of tone do you think you would enjoy" to just linking the foundational works page. A linear entry to the setting- even though I consider every story on it to be very important and noteworthy- flattens nuance and minimizes the importance of later growth and development in a way I really don't like.

The foundational stories reflect a specific period of time, when the setting was much smaller and existed on Read Only Mind. It is no longer on ROM, it is on AO3, and many of the most influential authors currently writing are all new voices who were never even here for ROM. I do not think that the broader fringes of fandom appreciates the nuance of this fact, and it irks me that so much discussion now centers on these stories to the point it drowns out all else unless you actively force it to be otherwise.

If I absolutely had to reccomend an introduction to the setting that composed of a list external to the foundational works, I would personally point to Irregular Orbits by rocketmermaid, Through The Looking Glass by PyxxieStyxx and mothcourt, and particularly The Place Where We Can Stop Running by Dame Harmony as my set of introductions to the setting as it exists in a living body of ongoing works today.

I don't think, aside from fixing the stories tab on the website not mentioning the existence of stories outside of the foundationals(and this is already kind of a waste of time since the entire website is being replaced soon) and perhaps moving them to the writing tab instead of the stories tab, there is anything that the settings managing team can or even should do about this, as it is unfortunately just a reality of the broadening fandom drawing more mid to low engagement voices into the mix, but it still really irritates me.

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Twelve

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: goodbye to Giedi Prime, no foreplay, fucking with ✨a view✨

A/N: I was planning on making this a long(er) installment but my monkey brain needs the instant gratification of updating the story😂 Hopefully Part Thirteen will be up soon, too. Thank you for being patient with me!

Amongst the hustle and bustle of moving, servants rushing in and out with your belongings and Feyd barking out orders, you kneel down next to the synthetic plant. You check twice that no one is paying attention to you before reaching inside, running your fingers along the inner lip of the pot and past clumps of fake dirt. Finally you connect with something and a triumphant fissure erupts in you at the sight of the fertility necklace.

You clutch it in your hand.

While you don’t intend to use it, it’s the last link to your mother that you have. You can’t believe you almost forgot it — it seems like a small eternity since your wedding. You had almost completely wiped it from your memory since you hid it, remembering only because Jessica and the Bene Gesserits were at the forefront of your mind.

You drop the necklace into a pocket of your dress before anyone sees it.

“Do you know what today is, wife?”

You catch Feyd loping towards you, seemingly having forfeited his supervising responsibilities.

“Mm, the day we get a lovely chat with the Reverend Mother?” You ask, distracted by the weight of the necklace.

“Surely you haven’t forgotten.”

You blink, then center your focus on him, on the fleeting look of smugness he has. “It’s today.”

Feyd’s eyes glint. He pounds his fist to his chest three times, drawing the attention of the servants who stop what they’re doing and straighten in response. You wave them away, grabbing your husband by the crook of his elbow and pulling him into the corner.

“Must you insist on doing that so often?” You chide him. “We would already be on Arrakis if they didn’t have to keep pausing for you.”

The grin on his face tells you that he is not even the slightest bit apologetic. “Can I not dedicate servitude to my wife on our anniversary?”

“Our anniversary of one month,” you remind him.

“A perfect opportunity to laud you.”

“You can laud yourself over there to help that poor man.” You indicate a servant struggling with a particularly heavy trunk of belongings.

Feyd narrows his eyes. “He’s fine.”

“Feyd-Rautha.”

Your husband considers your tone, then turns and delivers another three-strike salute to his chest. He’s darting away before you can reprimand him for it, snarling for a second servant to help with the heavy lifting instead of himself.

Shaking your head, you can’t but smile privately. It warms you to see Feyd like this, the charismatic, alluring side of him that you so rarely glimpse. He usually deploys it in political situations, a switch that he can flick on at will, but it seems genuine today. Perhaps the anniversary of your wedding has lifted his mood in light of his brother’s engagement.

Either that, or the fact that the first step of your plan would be initiated today.

You liked to believe it was the latter.

It’s midday before you’re called to receive the Reverend Mother, and sweat beads between your shoulder blades. To calm your pounding heart, you think of Caladan: the spray of the sea against the rocky crags, the rare peal of your mother’s laughter, and how it all had been stolen from you by those like the Baron and the Reverend Mother. People who thought their agenda more important than the lives of those carrying it out for them.

Your vengeance keeps you sharp, your smile like a knife as you approach the Reverend Mother.

“Thank you for meeting with me earlier than we planned,” you greet her.

She replies, “You said it was urgent, though I sense that, once again, your womb is empty.”

“Yes,” you say, stifling the urge to choke her with those stupid chains. Hopefully the saccharine tone of your voice does not betray your inner thoughts. “I called you here for a related reason.”

“And what might that be?”

“You were wrong about Feyd-Rautha.”

The Reverend Mother visibly recoils. “Tell me what’s on your mind now, girl, I do not have the time for your vague accusations.”

“How do you truly know that he’s destined to sire the Kwisatz Haderach? He is…unpredictable,” you say. “Perhaps your calculations are wrong. It could explain why I am not yet pregnant.”

“Does he know you voice this concerns?” The Reverend Mother asks with a sniff.

Your lips press together. “Of course not.”

“Keep it that way. Feyd-Rautha is just as destined to sure the Kwisatz Haderach as you are to bear it from your womb.” You can feel her scrutiny from under her decorated veil. “You were defiant before about your arrangement. Why are you questioning his authenticity now?”

“As you remember, you assessed me under the Gom Jabbar. Feyd-Rautha has had no such assessment. What if he were to fail?”

The Reverend Mother considers this. “You suggest that we test him.”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe him likely to succumb?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” you reply, “only that his capabilities have not been proven by your standards.”

“You speak as if this is an oversight on our part,” the Reverend Mother says, rising to her feet. A bolt of uncertainty shoots through you.

“I mean no offense. I am simply voicing my concerns, as you said.”

“You leave soon for Arrakis?”

“In a few hours.” You try to look sheepish. “You can see why I demanded urgency.”

The Reverend Mother doesn’t immediately reply. You’re not sure what she sees when she gazes upon you. When she finally does speak, her voice is begrudging: “I shall see that Feyd-Rautha is tested by the Gom Jabbar, though I hardly think it necessary to facilitate now.”

“But what if he fails? I am wasting my time with him,” you counter, perhaps too quickly.

The Reverend Mother must mistake the haste in your voice for panic. “I will visit you on Arrakis in one week. We shall test him then.”

You dip your chin, acquiescent. “Thank you, Reverend Mother.”

The Reverend Mother has no sooner left before Asha scurries to you, her eyes wide. “I overheard everything. It won’t be ready by then.”

“It has to be.”

After your disconcerting dinner with the Baron, you made it your top priority to mend things with Asha. Albeit, less messy than your reunion with Feyd. Asha was only too quick to forgive you and gush her own apologies, which you reassured were not necessary. You had explained to her the plan you created with your husband that very night, while lying side by side in bed, voices whispered, his fingers dragging across your skin.

You had uttered plans to destroy his family like they were sonnets of a poem, threaded with love and unwavering devotion.

Asha, of course, eagerly agreed to assist you with the plan.

“These things, it takes time, and without having an actual reference —”

You lower your voice as not to be heard by anyone lingering nearby. “Tell them I will double their pay. It must be delivered to me on Arrakis in a week’s time.”

“Okay.” Asha hardly looks convinced.

“The promise of coin is an excellent tonic for idleness,” you say. You allow a small smile. “I wish it would change your mind.”

You had invited Asha to join you on Arrakis but she had swiftly declined, ever after you swore a higher salary. You would do anything to guarantee her company.

“I belong here, Y/N,” Asha says, “I know it must be difficult to believe. I imagine you felt the same about Caladan.”

You stiffen slowly. Oh, how lovely it must be to make your own decisions and live where you choose. Subconsciously, you know you could order her to join you and she would have no choice but to say yes. But you would not sacrifice her happiness for your own. “I understand.”

“Are you…disappointed?”

Feyd glances at you. You both stand in the whirl of a thopter’s wings, the force of it billowing your skirts and the red scarf you’ve draped over your head and shoulders in preparation for Arrakis. Your hand sits on your forehead like a shield for the sun — the last time you would see it, a dark, unblinking eye in the white sky.

The light casts Feyd in sharp contrast.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“This…is your home,” you say, “will you not miss it?”

As if prompted by your question, he surveys the barren landscape, factories belching smoke in the distance as servants finish preparing your things for space flight. You think that he might not answer when he eventually says, “This place has always been more prison than home. I will be glad to rid myself of it.”

You want to reach out and grab his hand, but it feels wrong in this instance, when you wear your mantles of na-Baron and na-Baroness like armor.

Instead, you take to inspecting the same land that your husband does. You can’t even imagine the horrors he’s experienced here. And, unlike you, with your life scattered across several planets, Feyd had only known Giedi Prime — its cruelty and hardships and penchant for violence.

Though Arrakis is hardly a paradise, you hope he will find reprieve there.

“I can’t believe I’m going back,” you mutter. Your throat thickens. “And my parents won’t be there. I…I didn’t imagine it would be like this.”

“A soldier who dies in battle holding a weapon is guaranteed a place in the Heavens. If they were anything like you, they died fighting.”

You smile, blinking appreciatively at him. “I didn’t know you were religious, Feyd-Rautha.”

“I have little care for the Orange Catholic Bible. But there is comfort in knowing that there might be sanctuary for those who have spent their lives in battle.”

“Like you?”

You’re not sure what prompts you to ask it, but he turns sharply to regard you. His eyes scan your face, then the slightest of smiles graces his lips. “I’m afraid that there is no sanctuary for someone like me, jewel, but you’ve certainly ruined me by giving me a taste.”

Your chest tightens with emotion. You want to respond but it’s then that you’re beckoned over to the thopter. Feyd’s gaze flickers behind you and the moment is lost. “Be quick, wife.”

Be quick?

A pair of arms circle around you, making stumble. You automatically lean into their embrace while Feyd retreats to give you time to say goodbye, though you hardly notice with the tears springing to your eyes and blurring your vision.

You’re loathe to leave Asha here. She clings to you tightly, and you know that she wishes it could be different.

“You will come visit,” you tell her fiercely.

Asha withdraws an inch. “Of course.”

“And you will send me monthly — no, weekly updates.” You give her a stern look. “You will spare no details. I command you as your na-Baroness.”

“I suppose I have no choice then.”

You grin at her. “No you do not.”

Asha draws you in again, then whispers, “Your promise of coin worked.” She recovers, saying louder, “Now go. The na-Baron looks anxious for you to join him.”

“Thank you, Asha. For everything. You are my dearest friend.”

Asha offers you one last smile then bows to you. Aware that half of the fortress is watching, you spin on your heel and make your way to the thopter, to your na-Baron, and to your uncertain future.

“I can’t say it’s good to be back,” you report dryly as the heighliner descends. The expanse of desert stretches out before you, Arrakeen, shield wall visible just on the horizon. It shimmers slightly in the low lighting, duel suns casting a glow as they prepare for nighttime.

You’re escorted by a horde of Harkonnen soldiers in their all-black armor through a crowd of Arrakis natives. The handful of Fremen are easy enough to spot with their blue-on-blue eyes — you think them to be hostile of you, considering your Harkonnen marriage, but most regard you with curiosity. As you pass, you hear a rumbling in the crowd that you catch snippets of:

“…the Holy Mother of the Kwisatz Haderach…”

“I hear she’s no Bene Gesserit witch as they claim.”

“…does she already look pregnant to you?”

It displeases you, these vast speculations, but do your best not to reveal it. The truth of your education is not widely known. You were a shameful blot on the tapestry the Bene Gessrits have woven, and instructed by your mother upon first arrival on Arrakis not to tell anyone.

The prophecy foretold you to be part of the sisterhood, so that was the facade you upheld.

A Fremen woman twists free from the crowd. You’re too stunned to push her away before she lays a hand on your lower abdomen. Her blue-on-blue eyes shine vibrantly.

“I have touched the womb of the Holy Mother,” the woman says in a tremulous voice, “the womb which will bear our sacred Messiah.”

You stare, open-mouthed, as two Harkonnen soldiers grab under her arms and drag her away, still spouting heretics about your womb. The last you see of her is her feet dragging in the sand as she’s sucked into the crowd. Unease travels across your skin like goosebumps despite the stifling heat; you’re grateful to have worn the headscarf, as it hopefully masks your alarm.

“I should’ve had her hands removed for daring to touch you,” Feyd hisses under his breath.

He glowers the remaining way to the Arrakeen palace. It’s difficult to say if any of the remaining Fremen are eager to replicate the scene, but they’re surely discouraged now by your husband.

“That would’ve reflected poorly on us,” you say.

“I don’t care.”

You bump arms with him, stepping closer as not to be overheard. “You cannot blame them for their exuberance. They have been manipulated by the Bene Gesserits for centuries now. They believe our child to be their savior.”

A look of discomfort crosses Feyd’s face but he elects not to respond. Together you’re admitted through the airtight entrance into the palace, which is promptly sealed again. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust but when they do, you’re rooted to the spot by confusion.

The palace is exactly the same. You’ve memorized it from your long days stuck inside, but the decor and furniture are completely different. You suppose you expected to see it mostly the same, perhaps ransacked or destroyed, a standing tomb from the life before — not this, a space crafted entirely new.

The Harkonnen soldiers dispatch, probably to sweep for spies, leaving you alone with Feyd for the first time since your exchange with the Baron.

Your brows furrow as you say, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope it’s to your approval.”

“You did this?”

“I thought it would make the transition…easier,” he tells you. “Everything that was salvageable has been taken to a storage vault for safe keeping in case you later feel so inclined to see it.”

Gratitude swells inside you. “The entire palace?”

Feyd indicates for you to continue onward. He trails after you as you explore the halls, amusement etched on his face as he observes you peeking into each room for confirmation. It’s only once you’ve reached the bedroom meant for the man and lady of the house that he stops you.

“I’ve deigned to move our personal belongings to the next biggest suite,” he says, “this room is considered off limits.”

Relief washes over you — you won’t have to stay where your parents slept, where your mother would venture nightly from her quarters to slip under the covers with your father. Your throat thickens. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing.”

His gesture moves you deeply, but it’s hard to miss the streaks of residual lasgun burn marks on the walls, the unfamiliar servants now in your employ. And you’re not sure if it’s your imagination or not but you sense a heaviness within the palace as if the weight of the deaths press on you from all sides.

The intricate care taken to packing your belongings is now undone over the next few hours. At least here everything is in color and there’s a human warmth that was always lacking on Giedi Prime. You sneak glances at Feyd on occasion to gauge his reaction, but he maintains his casual indifference to it all.

It would be impossible to tell if he’s masked his feelings or if he really doesn’t care. Either way, relief loosens your mind when night descends and the servants are sent away to rest, leaving you alone with Feyd. There are no pretenses you need to hold — not that it would matter if you tried. His attention is already fastened to you, analyzing.

���Let me help you out of your dress,” he offers in his rasping voice.

You obey, turning your back to him so that he may untie the laces running up your spine. You suspect that he would normally make quick work of such a task, it’s not like he’s unfamiliar with the process, but his fingers are clumsy, grazing. Feyd crowds close to you, his mouth hovering over the shell of your ear.

“Did everything go as planned?”

You nod, humming. It’s hard not to get distracted with him near you like this. “Yes. She will be here next week to assess you.”

“Perfect.”

“It truly could not have gone better,” you admit to him with a splash of self-satisfaction.

He drops a kiss to your bare shoulder as he eases the dress down over it. “I was talking about you, jewel.”

Twisting, you meet his mouth with yours. Feyd’s hands instantly grab at your waist and spins you the rest of the way until you’re pressed together. You allow the dress to slide down and pool at your feet, which you step out of as Feyd pedals backward, taking you with him. His kiss grows deeper. Attempting to take the lead, you tug him towards the bed, but Feyd has other ideas.

“No, no, come here,” he rasps. Like the tide eroding the sand, you let him guide you to the floor-length window. The glass against your skin is still warm from the twin suns.

“Here?” You gasp into him.

Feyd is too busy discarding his own clothes to answer immediately. “Let all of Arrakis see their na-Baroness,” he murmurs, mouth reuniting with yours with renewed passion.

His touch coasts down your side to your thighs, lifting you so that you can settle your legs around his waist. The vantage point giving your center access to his hardened length. Your body bows in response to him, ribbons of desire reaching out to capture you, binding you to him.

It’s without warning that Feyd drives inside you. He grunts as his cock splits your cunt, walls protesting at his size, the force of his intrusion. You bite down on his shoulder as pain intertwines with pleasure, muffling your cries until his thrusts have thoroughly slickened you. And Feyd never relents, bucking his hips into you with wild enthusiasm.

You’re not sure how it’s possible but every touch — every thrust, every kiss — catapults you to the edge of a precipe from which you willingly step over, languishing in the free fall. Someday you might hit the ground, but that doesn’t frighten you as it should. You would do it over and over again as long as he was the one to bring you there. All things considered, it was his hands pushing you off the ledge, prompting you to fall, to spiral down into the chasm he created — and his hands who ultimately catch you.

Feyd eventually lets you back down on your feet only to twirl you around again. His arms snake around you, hands cupping your breast. You moan as he pinches your nipples, rolls them between his fingers, his breath hot on the side of your neck. Feyd wastes no time returning his cock to your weeping cunt, using his knee to spread apart your legs.

It feels as if you can see all of Arrakis from here as Feyd pummels into you: the cresting desert beyond the city, the shield wall, lights flickering in the distance. You wonder if anyone can see you now, make out your blurred shape high above them getting properly fucked by the man who rules over them. The thought fills you with molten heat, pulsing over you in waves of pleasure as you imagine an audience to your fucking.

Feyd laughs like he knows this. “What shall we say when our people discover their na-Baroness is a whore?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you pant, “you’d kill anyone who even hints at it.”

He snaps his hip to you, grunting in approval.

It’s not long after that he coaxes your final orgasm from you, coming himself soon after. The lights of Arrakeen merge, brighten, as you unravel beneath him; the subsequent bliss of him coating you with his seed. Once he’s wrung his pleasure from you, he pulls you against him, your back flush with his chest. You stay like that for quite some time as you both catch your breath, looking out over the planet you inherited together.

“It’s all ours,” Feyd rasps.

“What an anniversary gift,” you reply, grinning as you watch him in the reflection of the glass.

“If you asked of it I would gift you the entire Known Universe.”

“I know,” you tell him. “Maybe next month.”

Part Thirteen

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1 @unnisumi

[belphegored]

°•♡ Minors dni • light impact play (reader slaps Amon), verbal humiliation, nursing handjob

Giving something, anything to Amon. It might break him... no, it'll surely break him. But no, it's not like he cares. He is gonna take anything you give him, any scrap of your time, of your touch, of your attention, is enough and too much for him at once and he's sorry, has he already said he's so so sorry? He fucks things up so often, he honestly understands if you don't want to have anything to do with him, but-

He takes after Beel's habits: today he wandered and accidentally took four hours to "get" your coffee, though when finally showed up, he did so empty handed.

Sometimes you think Amon does all that on purpose. That he likes to see you weighing your options so as to how to even react to such carelessness, and putting together two and two day by day: how he probably gets off on your tired sighs and huffs and eyerolls and tongue clicks whenever he conveniently forgets to pick up something crucial from the store, how patting his head and saying you don't mind his mistakes does little to nothing for him, and the sure and best way to get him going is to abuse of him a little.

How he's just going to keep doing the same thing over and over as long as you are around.

"A bit of both, maybe?" Yes. He laughs. "Again...what's the difference? and it drives you insane.

"Are you dumb or are you stupid?" your eyes are trained on his hand holding the crumpled receipt but no coffee. & you sigh and swear you didn't intend the words come off like that, so harsh, but instead of reacting negatively, Amon laughs and looks away somewhat flustered.

So you make up your mind against common sense and grip his pretty face, already flustered, with force and then release it to hit him ever so lightly, playfully.

"Yeah? Bit of both? You think it's funny?"

In retrospective, forgetting about your coffee isn't such a big deal, but fuck if he doesn't makes you want to slap him around a bit. The fact that he enjoys it...You're not too sure how to feel about it.

He bites his lower lip so as to not to laugh or whine or say something that will put him at a real disadvantage (meaning that you'll get pissed off for real and draw that warm hand back) and mumbles a little "sorry..." this time- sounds and looks so fucking pretty, when he looks at you like that...

"You don't look sorry, though..." you say, more sigh. He really does not, and even if he were, the bulge in his trousers and the clear bead on the tip of his horn betray all the other things going through his mind and body.

Your knee pushes his thighs apart to nudge at the throbbing bulge and you slap him across the face again, but this time hard enough that your hand leaves a reddening imprint like a burn.

Amon whimpers. Of fucking course he does.

So "no use..." A dry little laugh escapes you, "you love it, dont you?" and you slap him again, "think you do all that on purpose, don't you, baby?"

Amon can only aim to stammer "N-no, nuh-huh, maybe, well...yeah, yes, I do."

You swear he's drooling- or he actually is, you thumb swipes along the corner of his mouth to gather the saliva and smear it across his lips bitten bruised and red cheek and he swears by all he believes on that he'll be good, so good for you, that he won't do it again (as long as you keep messing him up -which takes so little...-, pushing against his needy cock like that).

.

"S'okay, c'mere..." you concede at last; its just the way he humps your leg all dumb every time you hit him and how he stammers through a mess of apologies, begging for you to do anything, that you can't walk away from him and pretend you're actually angry.

"Not really mad at you, y'know? You're such a little slut, I could never" your hand now inside his uniform trousers carelessly pulls his throbbing cock out, lets it leak in your saliva-slick palm, hot and so hard you can barely wrap around it.

Amon just mewls pathetic like asking "really?", as if he couldn't believe you, or as if his body couldn't care less wether you thought him the most capable demon or a dumb piece of flesh as long as you kept pumping him as you do, tortuously slow strokes and a tight grip, trying to milk him.

"Fuck, you're a mess, aren't you?" you massage the tip of his hyper-sensitive dick with your thumb and he sobs, whines, tears up, flusters, drools- you almost feel a little pity.

.

"Here" it's an invitation: your neckline lowered and breasts that spill for him to nuzzle, kiss, look up at you from between them like a needy puppy who only ever needed affection, and you touch his fat cock and stimulate him, make it weep fat droplets of pre gathering, making it slick, and "keep that pretty mouth busy."

It doesn't take more than that to have him latched to your tits, suckling on a nipple until its tender before moving to the other one, slobbering all over you, messy and ruined because you're so terrible kind but your hand never stops stroking him and he-

"S'good, s-so..." He babbles whenever he pulls back to breathe in broken and his back arches, hips thrust forward so that he can hump himself into your fist, "feels nice..."

You know he won't last any longer just by the way his cock kicks in your palm.

"You like that, baby?"

Amon nods, breathless.

"Uh-huh, so close..."

Faster.

"It's okay, you can let go now, baby, cum for me...", pumping him until he whimpers against your tit and you pull him up for a real kiss as he comes undone, your tongue invading his hot mouth. He spills with a shiver, makes a mess between you both, hips still thrusting against nothing when your hand let's go of his still aching cock.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hey Ice,

What do you think of Nikki S. Lee's Projects series?

I know article writer Kim Eunsong was sick and tired of her ass 🤣 this article was a joy to read. I got to this line right here:

"“I’m not Korean-American, which means I don’t have issues about race… But I’m really happy that people talk a lot about different things from my work.”

Good to know Lee believes Koreans in the US and Koreans overall don’t have “race” problems. Good to know that it is from this gaze in which we can utilize to interrogate the series."

And I knew we were in for a goddamn doozy 🤣

This is a perfect example of "intention does not equal outcome". Nikki Lee might not have intended to be antiblack or put on blackface. She clearly did not go into this saying "I'm gonna be racist today". But... She was! Her actions showed a lack of concern for the subjects of her project, while simultaneously using their images and culture to promote her own ends. (I.e., "I'm not racist, I draw Black people!")

And seemingly, none of the people in her "performances" were credited or paid.

It's also a perfect example of how people not speaking up leads to actions like this being accepted. People said "it's not racist, it's art! It's supposed to be subversive!" yeah uh huh. The late 90s to 2000s were admittedly a lawless time where anything slid for shock value 🤣 but her shit was getting sold for 3-5k per pic?? Unacceptable. And I'm mad at the Black people that let her do it. This is why we need to retire "invitations to the cookout" until further notice 🤣

Well. Today I learned something new. Thank you for that, anon. There sure are people on this planet.

[ahlore]

lara’s journal.

writer! lara croft x fem!reader

↳ in our darkest moments, when life flashes before us, we find something. something that keeps us going. (lara croft)

want to read the next part? time spent healing.

Most of her journal entries focus on the incredible things she discovers—ancient ruins, strange artifacts, and hidden landscapes. But sometimes, she writes about you. When you’re not paying attention, she’ll make a note about a special moment she’s noticed, like the way you look when you’re lost in thought or how you handle a challenge. Those entries mean the most to her because they capture the little things that make your time together truly memorable.

When you first met her, you wouldn’t have guessed that you’d become close (no pun intended). She seemed like the type to keep to herself, only interested in ancient tombs and relics. But surprisingly, she’d seize every chance to talk to you. She’d ask you simple questions, like ‘What do you think this symbol means?’ and really engage with whatever you said. She’d make the most of every moment you spent together.

She’s always kind and gentle with you, offering tips and advice in her soothing voice. She carefully guides you through unexplored tombs, making sure you never feel uneasy and always keeping your safety in mind. If you ever found yourself in danger, she’d be totally overwhelmed with worry.

She’s incredibly quick-witted and always ready to act, so don’t expect her to back down from any threat. She’s fiercely protective of those she cares about, (you being included) driven by a sense of responsibility. She feels obligated to keep going, believing that stopping would mean letting everyone down. Lara became an archaeologist to honor her father, Richard Croft, whose reputation was tarnished. She often reflects on her childhood, remembering him as a remarkable father. “I was just nine when I lost him,” she’d say, “but I remember how he inspired me and how he made me feel like I could achieve anything.”

She keeps her journal in her room on the ship, where she writes down the date and what happened each day so she won’t forget. On pages where she writes about you, she draws little hearts around your name. The first time you saw her writing about you, you teased her about how cute it was. It wasn’t every day you met someone who cherished the smallest details about you. It made your time together feel extra special, knowing those moments were being kept safe in her journal.

“What are you writing about today?” You ask softly, leaning over her as you peek at her journal. She feels your breath near her ear and swallows hard, a bit nervous from the close proximity. After a moment, she replies, “Just writing about you and our time here on the island of Yamatai.”

[truelovepolinator]

The Chaos of the "Friends to Lovers" Quote & the Alleged Antonia Xmas Photos

I honestly have so many thoughts about Nicola and Luke that I usually don't even know where to start. As a result, I often end up saying nothing. Other folks are already talking about things so eloquently, and even when I don't entirely agree, I agree enough that I like it, move on, and wonder whether it's worth chiming in with my takes.

But today I do feel like tackling yesterday's craziness - the newly discovered article (and those hot photos) and the weirdness that erupted with the alleged family photo(s?) with Antonia.

This was a lot of chaos and excitement for one day and I found myself drowning a bit in the swell of it all.

Part of me was as thrilled as everyone to read those words that Luke said about friends to lovers, and also what Nic said about Luke making everything better. This story seemed to just confirm and crystallize everything I ever thought, that all of us true believers have thought. He said it. He said it right out loud.

But then there was the part of me that couldn't help but question it. Was it taken slightly out of a context that might have softened the meaning had it been included? Had the translation from English (Luke's original words) to Spanish back to English slightly tweaked the thought or expression of the thought in a way that implied slightly more than he originally intended?

Also, why would he/they just admit everything fully out in the open for this one random interview with a Chilean reporter, then retreat and go back to pretending to be just friends everywhere else (even if they never said "just" friends).

Then again, a point both for and against the accuracy of the implication of this quote is the fact that he came very close to saying this several other times. About how appropriate it felt that Polin was friends to lovers that they were friends... and he'd just sort of trail off or not quite continue the thought. So that seemed to make it both more probable that he might have inadvertently finished the thought one time, and also less probable that he would have said it so explicitly this one time when he never did any other time. Could the original translation have taken liberties in finishing the thought?

Bottom line, who knows? And I found myself wondering WHY I was wondering when, at the end of the day, I still totally believe they're together. So why question this quote so hard?

Perhaps there's just something inherently dangerous about allowing myself to believe they (even inadvertently) confirmed it. I already believe. I really do. So why does the thought of him having actually said it out loud feel so chaotic? Why was everyone whipped into a frenzy by this line when we could already see it? And why is this story just now making its way into our collective consciousness?

There's so much about this ship that doesn't make a lot of sense. I've had a few fictional ships I've loved, but I have never felt this much attachment to a celebrity couple before. Not even close. I'm sure I never will again. They are so special, and their connection is so unusual and obvious that it's hypnotic and magical. It feels like a privilege to witness such a magical and precious thing.

But perhaps it is precisely because their connection feels so magical and precious that it feels more elusive. For Luke to explicitly confirm what we all saw feels like very nearly stepping onto the solid ground of a previously misty, distant shore. But then, they took it back with every subsequent (and prior) interview, leaving us wobbly and unmoored.

And then the rumor of the Christmas photos with Antonia hit. I never saw these photos and only heard everything after the fact, so it's hard for me to draw conclusions. It sounds like the photos were inappropriately taken from a memorial page and not new, so not only were they disrespectful, but potentially also not remotely relevant to Luke's current relationship and life.

And even if she was with his family last year, there seem to be at least half a dozen explanations for that (just a friend or casual date with nowhere to go? Friend of his sister's? there at Christmas time, but for a different occasion and not actually "Christmas with the Newtons").

I also found myself confused by people insisting she was in the Maldives for work while others insisted she and her father were in a trailer somewhere? So which is it? Trailer Christmas with dad? Or dance gig in the Maldives? And perhaps most importantly, why does anyone know any of this because why is anyone following her, let alone her father, this closely?

I confess all of this chaos did drive me to check her stories and I saw the (apparently) Maldives videos. But I don't know what any of this proves.

I wrote extensively about my belief that Nic and Luke are together (see my blog: Nicola and Luke Are Absolutely Together and Have Been All Along and Here's How I Know), and that the relationship with Antonia has been a fake PR strategy to distract us all along. But I'd be lying if I said these little flare-ups don't make me wobble slightly in that boat as I continue trying to set foot on dry land. I don't feel like I know enough about how L & A met, how/if she's friends with his sister, what the deal is with that friend group, etc. And all those questions leave a tiny space for uncertainty.

Still, what's with the timing of that photo? The same day this story spreads like wildfire where Luke says OUT LOUD the very thing we've been wanting to hear and they've been trying to distract from? Seems to me a good PR agent who was paid to keep eyes off the real relationship might identify that as a moment to drop some confusing content and muddy the waters again. Don't want folks getting too close to the truth, after all.

The truth is, none of us can know the truth definitively because we don't know them. But again and again, when I look at the actual facts and the extensive evidence and crumbs, the only crumbs that fit together into a whole that makes sense are the Nic and Luke crumbs.

For the record, I have not a doubt in my mind that Nicola is *not* dating Jake. That one is crystal clear because after allowing some uncertainty to linger (part of the distraction strategy), they have all collectively shown us the truth.

Remember, Nicola has NEVER shared her love life publicly. All these photos with Jake are actually proof of a negative, that he is NOT her bf. Thinking that her photos with him are proof of their romantic relationship represents a fundamental lack of understanding of who Nicola is, let alone Jake and their shared friend group.

I do believe that she and Luke will go public eventually for two reasons. The least of these is for the fans. The fans want it so bad that one day they will relent and show us. But the more important reason is that when you find the one, and you love them with all your heart, you don't want to hide it forever. Live privately, yes, but not hide. When they feel settled and confident enough, and perhaps when the glare of the spotlight has died down enough, they will finally share. That's what I believe.

Could I be wrong? Of course. Could this hypothetical relationship with Antonia be real? I suppose. But if it is, it's the weirdest damn thing I ever saw. I will never get over the strangeness of the InStyle LA photos, and in particular, that one at the cafe with the white truck. There's something just inherently fake and fishy about the way their hypothetical relationship manifests. And since their pap photos, implied togetherness photos, and weird "likes" patterns all follow a classic PR fake relationship playbook, I have a hard time believing it.

Also, I feel much better about him with Nic than with Antonia, for a variety of reasons I won't go into because I don't want to spread hate.

If I am wrong, I will be heartbroken. I admit it. I believe in NicLuke. Lukola is my endgame. And I don't just think “someday.” I absolutely believe it's happening now. I made my case extensively in my prior blog. People seem to want to read the signs a million different ways, but all the signs I've seen point directly to Nicola and Luke being together now. So that's where I'm sticking.

Let the ship wobble. I'm not going anywhere.

[icolo]

hi everyone!! my wrist is too sore to draw today, so instead i thought i'd share some of my favorite csp assets + how i like to use them! i also linked some procreate brushes at the end of the post!!

lineart brushes:

SU-Cream Pencil: i swear by this brush and i use it very often!! if you lower the pen density and use a gradient map over it when coloring your drawing, it has a nice effect. that's what i did in this drawing here! i also use this brush like i would draw on paper, so as a sketching tool. recently i've been enjoying blending it for shading. the pics below are drawn on one layer; left is more manga style while the one on the right is from a WIP of my singer sargent study, so it can be used for more realistic styles pretty well!

Found Pencil: another pencil brush that feels really nice to use, created by @/pigpenandpaper.

PS style brushes: a recreation of photoshop's (i believe) default brush. very versatile and also blends well!

analog wind variant pen: a nice pen that i like to use for lineart that is intended to have a bit of a sketch look.

zakutoro real g-pen: i used it for the lineart of this piece. although, it was drawn before i started using 600dpi in my works, so the lower resolution might make it look a bit unclear.

sets of rough pens: great for manga lineart with a rougher vibe; some of them have varying line weight.

coloring brushes:

zaku brushes: very nice and painterly mixing! i definitely recommend it for those who like to leave their colors a bit unblended.

softie marker: as the name implies, it's very soft! i like to use it for blush in chibi illustrations.

analog watercolor brushes: realistic-looking watercolor brushes. i recommend using it with csp's default paper textures, or those i linked below!

993 coloring pen: it's very soft and watery, though it can be made more solid by adjusting the paint density. i actually think it works very nicely for lineart too.

rock dog pen: another soft marker brush i like, that i once again also use for lineart and doodles.

thick coating brush set: recommended for paintings that show brush strokes.

cartoon cloud: don't let the name narrow your vision!! this has to be one of the BEST brushes for painting in my opinion, and of course it's great for clouds and explosions but so so much more!! and it's FREE try it try it!!

decoration/miscellaneous brushes:

neon pen

paper textures

symmetry move brush

close and fill without gaps

rope brush

sphere fisheye guide

flash balloon

speech bubble set: a lifesaving collection for comic artists!! dimensions and line weight can be adjusted by using the operation tool.

gradient map to use in color mode at 15% and another gradient map to use at 20%: the percentage refers to the opacity of the gradient map layer, but they are just the creator's recommendation and i tend to actually increase it. to use gradient map efficiently, i recommend putting all your colors (and lineart if you want) in a folder. then, right-click the folder, select "new correction layer" and then "gradient map". this allows you to modify the gradient map without worrying about affecting the original colors in case you decide not to use it in the end. to import a gradient map from your downloaded csp assets, click the wrench icon next to the name of the gradient set that's currently in use, then select "add gradient set".

you'll also notice that the creator recommends to use their gradients in "color mode". of course, this is also only a recommendation and i suggest trying as many layer modes as you like! to change a layer's mode, simply highlight the layer and click on "normal" (the default mode) and csp will display the available modes.

fruit ninja gradient map: fun to use if you want really drastic/vibrant colors! the names of the gradients are cute too, as you can see in the above screenshot!

BONUS: jeremy fenske's free photoshop brush pack: these aren't csp brushes per se, but they can be imported into the program! excellent for environments, i recommend watching fenske's video on how he uses the brushes to get a clearer picture since there are so many in this pack!!

BONUS 2: my good friend clem has a few brush packs for procreate that are ideal for painting,decorating drawings, and y2k-inspired illustrations, i definitely recommending checking out her shop!

in conclusion i hope this post can be helpful to you!! i tried to explain how to use the brushes as best as i could, but feel free to let me know if anything is unclear!! i hope you will enjoy using them! :D

[shirefantasies]

Hi Marti! I think I've got a doozy for ya, hope your up for it. How do you think The Company of Thorin Oakenshield would go about trying to set two folks up, like romantically? What's everyone's like technique I guess- who's more straightforward with introducing people to eachother, who's a background guy like manipulating things so the two potential lovebirds end up sharing space at a public event, who's talking up the other person when they aren't around, who's explicitly like 'you and this person would make a cute pair.' and. and and and- most importantly- how does this change if this involves their brothers/relations? I'm grinning so damn hard rn, I believe in you!

I'm absolutely obsessed with this ok??? YES 🅱️LS (also, portraying this like it’s you & another company member hehe)

Warnings: a suggestive joke or two

How Thorin’s Company Would Set You Up With Someone

Balin

✧ Sensible, subtle, simple. His approach will be more along the lines of getting you and his target to spend more time together.

✧ He’ll ask you both to go complete a task like gathering firewood together.

✧ As you two (even if forcibly) are spending more time together, he might start bringing them up more, daring to ask a question about that.

✧ One tell he has is the proud, sly little smile that can sometimes be seen upon his face as you two interact.

✧ When you two actually get together, he makes his grand reveal, smugly telling you both he’s been around long enough to be able to tell when two are right for each other.

Dwalin

✧ Has no clue what he’s doing, frankly, and likely is only doing it because his brother or someone else roped him into it.

✧ Or else he has a really strong protective instinct toward you, the other company member, or both. Then it becomes a matter of greater urgency, more based upon the concept of making sure you are with someone he trusts. Simply put, no one else will do.

✧ Rather than wax poetic, Dwalin prefers putting you in situations that display his target’s skills and worth. If they’re a fighter, he’ll send them in to save you, for example.

✧ Very subtle with the stereotypical ‘wingman’ comments, but they're there. “Looks like you got rescued today, eh?” "You know, if there's anyone I trust for help with that, why it would have to be..."

✧ His eyebrows raise when you actually announce this very soul to the company as your one, but he's the first to clap hands to your shoulders and bring up a shout of celebration.

Thorin

✧ By far the most awkward about it- he can barely process his own feelings, let alone others’.

✧ “I- I just want you to be happy.” Hopes you know what he means by that, but it’s a coin toss honestly.

✧ Relents and assigns you two joint tasks like unsaddling the ponies or gathering firewood, hoping that’s enough to help draw you closer.

✧ If one of you expresses any sort of heavy emotion, he actually does a really good job relating it to the other’s experience and directing you that way, prompting a heart-to-heart.

✧ Smiles widely and pulls you both lightly into his arms at the news, taking it as a sign of continuation and prosperity to come.

Oin

✧ Surprisingly one of the more discreet ones.

✧ Makes a lot of conversation as he patches you up anyway, so teasing questions about who amongst them you fancy most just seem to come with the job.

✧ Little do you know that the moment you spill, Oin turns around and starts teasing the other party about what a catch you are. What? He’s getting older, let him have his fun.

✧ He makes you his nursemaid of sorts to help the next time they get hurt. If you take great issue at such sights he’ll just ask you to keep them company upon being patched up.

✧ “I said it would be a match, and a match it is!” He calls out, fists pumped into the air at your revelation.

Gloin

✧ Physically shoves you in the direction of his intended target under the guise of merriment. Not hard, just enough to get them to turn and look at you and see the moment's right.

✧ Comes up with team games so you two can be on a team against him and whichever friend or brother he's roped in that time.

✧ Finding out if your feelings are true is in the interest of his betting pool, so Gloin is not above asking you the occasional alluding question, usually a small one like what your type is.

✧ The first to laugh heartily and slap you on the back if you display any sort of flirting behaviors!

✧ Shouts with wild abandon when you come out with it, racking up all his sacks of coins with glee before he grabs you two and gives you an affectionate, proud shake!

Bifur

✧ Silent observers are some of the most deeply perceptive individuals.

✧ Thus, whoever’s end it’s on, Bifur can see feelings blossoming, his head bobbing back and forth between you two with interest at nearly every interaction.

✧ Eagerly employs some rather…unorthodox… methods of seeing you set up. “I can steal his socks and give them to you so you can be the hero who finds them!”

✧ Begins telling both you and his intended match heavily exaggerated stories of each other’s great feats, completely unaware of the separate conversations about them you’ll then have.

✧ Grabs your hands and joins them when he hears the news, nodding and clapping proudly!

Bofur

✧ Can be obvious about it, but still one of the most natural.

✧ Throws an arm around you both, all but dragging you over to the fire to sing and dance with him…and more importantly each other!

✧ He’s often off doing the laundry, so he oh-so-innocently spills something one day and asks his target to surrender their shirt…right in your full view, of course!

✧ Pulls you into more jokes with whoever fancied, teasing them and then calling you out by name to join in: “Isn’t that right?” He winks at you the moment you look at him, the scoundrel!

✧ “See, didn’t I tell ya it was meant to be? Nothing but blessings from me, you two.”

Bombur

✧ Finds himself smiling and clasping his hands whenever you two interact. Maybe he can help it along...

✧ Excuse king. “Say, could you go fetch ‘im for me? …Why? Oh, because I borrowed something the other night.” “Can you sit there? It’s just I’m a bit warm, so I’d like to be further away from the fire if you please.”

✧ Being married himself, he understands some of the best how a good relationship starts, i.e. with a firm friendship. Thus he starts talking to you both and joking around more to make memories that bring you together!

✧ Also gives his targets credit for anything. “Lost one of my gloves the other day ‘n’ you’ll never guess who found it!”

✧ Beams and offers the biggest bear hugs he can when you announce your relationship. Bragging rights who? Bombur just loves love.

Dori

✧ Lives for the drama anyway, but general investment would grow tenfold if that person happened to be one of his little brothers.

✧ The questioning sort, suddenly asking you things like if you’ve ever considered settling down after this is all over and if so, any inklings with what type of person?

✧ Suddenly he can’t speak highly enough of this person even if it’s not one of his siblings, tossing it into your teatime conversations how they’re that strong or this skilled or he hears that family crafts the finest courting beads if he’s one of the dwarves.

✧ It’s enough that you pick up on what he’s doing and tell him that well, if that company member is interested then they’d best just tell you, prompting Dori to rush to them and try to convince them to confess.

✧ Whether they need the push or not, Dori’s target eventually makes a move, leaving the older dwarf to brag like a proud father, uncle, big brother, you name the dynamic he can do it!

Nori

✧ Not shy about any part of the whole affair. Watches you both with a shit eating grin.

✧ “So, if it had to be anyone there, who’d it be? …what, I can’t be the first one to be asking that, can I?”

✧ Heavily contemplates going the jealously route. Barring you getting uncomfortable, Nori starts being far more friendly with you and putting his arm around you more often to see what his target does.

✧ Proceeding, of course, to teasingly confront them about it later. “What, did it bother you? Wonder why. Maybe you oughta take that up with ‘em, then.”

✧ Some company members bought his act a little too well, gazes swiveling between you and your match and Nori himself as if expecting him to now be jealous.

Ori

✧ Surprisingly great at matchmaking- his fear of being discovered keeps him very very discreet, and he has a great sense for love.

✧ “Can you two sit right there? I’d like to get some drawings while we’ve got the time. Thank you! Oh, just a little bit closer. Little bit more. There we go!”

✧ The moment you need help, Ori knows someone who can help you! Sends you right their way with an innocent little smile.

✧ Has made it his business to have a general idea of what everyone likes, which comes quite well in handy pointing out to you that someone else in the company's got a similar interest or hobby. Grins to himself when he sees you actually approach them about it.

✧ Feels no need to come out and announce himself to you once you're together, but he brags about predicting and matchmaking you two endlessly to Dori, who listens with great pride.

Fili

✧ Having the absolute time of his life.

✧ He’s likely gotten up to this due to gaining the knowledge- or else it simply being that obvious- that one of you has feelings for the other or is attracted to them. Thus, teasing abounds!

✧ “Ever thought about it? …what? Why, you two, of course! Everyone else has, after all.”

✧ Leans on his sword or against a tree, giving his best attempt at a smooth pose as he whispers that they like you too. Yes, even if he isn't certain that you like them as well.

✧ "Finally!" He calls out the first time he sees you two kiss. It may earn him a smack, but it's worth it.

Kili

✧ Likely doing this teamed up with Fili and also having the absolute time of his life.

✧ Jokes around any time you two are paired for things. “Well you two make quite the handsome couple, don’t you?”

✧ Plays sides with whoever he's closest to, possibly with his brother falling to the person's other side. "Be honest, who do you think is the best looking of us all? What do you think of that one there?"

✧ "Come on now," he asks you directly if you have any interest in his target, especially if he knows you do, "you can tell me." This, of course, is punctuated with a wink.

✧ He wasn't expecting to actually become your confidant, but when you tell him you trust him with your news and that he's the first to know, he can't help beaming and pulling you into a hug.

Bilbo

✧ Insists to all the other company members that hobbits are the best at matchmaking, thank you. But that, of course, leaves him to prove it.

✧ Step one: food. Food is one of the greatest bonding agents known to hobbits, so Bilbo will task you with bringing your potential interest dinner and thus sitting at their side for the meal.

✧ Step two: common interests. Bilbo himself becomes something of a double agent, talking to one of you and then the other and dropping names at any good opportunity. Perhaps both of you knit. Maybe you need your blades sharpened and they've just done theirs. You could simply just have the same favorite animal and the both of you will know it by the time Bilbo is through.

✧ Step three: strategically moving your bedrolls to be right next to each other. What? It works! That night his target ends up rolling against you in his sleep and you lean up against him.

✧ When you wake up the following morning, shock overtakes you, then shy smiles and a private conversation that has Bilbo smirking to the rest of the company triumphantly.

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