#we’re deeply built on trust

[grimmweepers]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓯𝓮𝓻

He could sense her fear in how her fingers trembled, yet still, she held on, her human warmth like a flame against his palm. So fragile she could slip through his grasp like a wisp of mortal breath but it was her touch that kept him tethered.

“Is this the right path for us?”

“If it leads to you, i’ll take it. Even if it costs me everything.”

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: immortal x mortal, forbidden love, demon x human, mutual pining, opposites attract, orpheus x eurydice (loosely)

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 26.07.2021

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐒: caught by mammon! | demon!ryu | season of love

[caitsgaptooth]

No, because what do you mean Arcane has completely rewritten the rulebook on queer representation in media, and it did it so effortlessly that it puts so many other shows to shame. Like, how are you going to tell me this animated series—ostensibly a spin-off of a video game—has given us some of the most nuanced, unapologetically powerful sapphic characters ever without reducing them to stereotypes, side plots, or, worse, trauma porn?

Vi and Caitlyn? Their dynamic is ELECTRIC. You’ve got Vi, the rough-edged, fiercely loyal, scrappy brawler with a tender side that could wreck anyone emotionally, and Caitlyn, the sharp, principled, deeply empathetic enforcer with a heart of gold. The way their relationship is built on mutual respect and trust while navigating all the insane, tragic chaos around them? Literal chef's kiss. And not once do we get the tired, lazy "coming out" narrative or the "but what about the gays?" rhetoric. Their queerness isn’t the story—it’s just a beautifully natural part of who they are. And THAT is revolutionary.

And let’s not even stop there. This show handles gender like it’s been waiting for everyone else to catch up. Characters like Sevika, who could give you chills with her sheer badassery and gender-nonconforming energy, exist unapologetically without the narrative ever feeling the need to spoon-feed us explanations. It’s just there, woven seamlessly into the fabric of the world.

So many shows claim to want to "normalize" queer relationships or push the envelope, but Arcane has quietly dominated the space by just writing characters who feel authentic. Their struggles are about class, power, loyalty, trauma, not token representation or forced diversity. This show said, “We’re just going to make some of the most layered, compelling characters you’ve ever seen—and oh yeah, some of them are gay. Keep up.”

Like, the bar wasn’t just raised—it was launched into the stratosphere. What do you mean this level of representation isn’t the norm yet? Arcane said, “We’re not asking for permission to exist. We’re just existing.” And that? That is art.

[holysmokesblog]

Could it be real?

Vander x reader

Words: 0.5k

Warnings: -

Summary: You must face a fact that seems impossible, but it’s right there before your eyes—it’s just a matter of believing it.

Note: It's been over two years since the last time I posted something here. I hope you enjoy this piece, and that the translation is correct since I'm not very good at English. <3

He was there, just a few meters away, but he didn’t seem like himself. He didn’t look like him, didn’t sound like him, and didn’t even smell the same. He was simply unrecognizable.

Vi’s heavy hand rested on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked at her, searching for answers, but she only stared at the massive creature lying on the ground.

“Are you sure it’s…”

“Completely.” Vi didn’t let you finish your question. She released your shoulder and approached the giant, who lay asleep a few meters away. She gently touched its back. The beast stirred uncomfortably, but upon seeing the young woman, it relaxed. “I have no doubt.”

You stepped closer, slowly, afraid your approach might alert the massive being, but it kept its back turned.

“Just look at him, and you’ll understand.”

The creature hunched over, trying to appear smaller (an impossible feat), and took a cautious step forward. You stepped back, which made him freeze in place.

Finally, the immense creature turned, and you saw him. He wasn’t how you remembered. He didn’t look like the man you’d fallen in love with in the Lanes, the one you’d shared most of your life with, built a family with. But without a doubt, it was him.

“Vander?”

Your mind raced, struggling to comprehend everything that was happening—how your husband, the man who had died years ago, was now back in a body that wasn’t his own.

You remained silent, unable to respond. Your brain kept trying to process everything, but no answer came. Vi, still enraged, was about to say something else when a loud snort stopped her.

Seeing that you wouldn’t come closer, Vi stepped in again.

“I know he looks different, but I swear, this is Vander. He remembers us.”

“How is this possible?”

“We’re not sure, but you have to trust me.”

“I searched for his body for months. I didn’t… I didn’t find anything—”

“That doesn’t matter anymore!” Vi snapped, furious. “He’s here now. We can help him; we can bring Vander back! How can you not be happy?”

The massive creature that had once been your husband took another step in your direction, but this time, you didn’t back away, so he kept advancing. Panic gripped your chest with every step he took, the fear that touching him would wake you up in your apartment, drenched in tears.

When he finally reached you, he lifted one of his enormous hands and gently brushed your cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to stream uncontrollably.

“Is this real?” You looked into his eyes. “Please,” you begged. “I don���t want to wake up.”

Vander didn’t dare touch you again, fearing you might run away, but you couldn’t stand it any longer. You buried yourself in his chest. He hesitated for a moment but finally wrapped one massive arm around you, lowering his face to your head and inhaling deeply.

“You’re real,” you murmured through your sobs, unable to believe it.

“I’m here,” he said in a deep voice, squeezing you gently with the arm that held you close.

[theunsinkableship1]

If You Know You Know

I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say this, it must be tiring for some, but I need to reiterate this CLEARLY to be properly understood:

I WILL NEVER SHIP THEM WITH ANYONE ELSE.

This makes absolutely no sense to me. The only reason I’m here is to support Luke and Nicola as a couple. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I won’t do it again after them. Hopefully, if they become an official couple, I’ll step away because my purpose will be fulfilled.

I joined this fandom because I saw something extraordinary between them, something I’ve never witnessed in my entire life. Their connection felt so unique and undeniable. Other relationships, real or supposed, simply don’t matter to me in this context. I initially believed people supported them because they, too, recognized the magic between them. But clearly, that’s not the case for everyone, which is disappointing.

To me, there’s no point in being part of the Lukola fandom if you don’t genuinely support both of them together. To be clear, I deeply admire and respect both actors, and I support their careers wholeheartedly. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m not here to support two talented actors, I’m here for their LOVE, for that incredible bond they share.

I’ve seen many relationships in my life, but nothing like this. Their dynamic is something rare, something worth rooting for.

To be a true shipper is to stand firm in your belief, to celebrate the connection you see and cherish without hiding behind the guise of "realism" or "pragmatism" to spread negativity. If you don’t believe in the ship, that’s fine, but then, why stay? Why participate only to criticize those who do have faith?

Truly shipping them isn’t about constant doubt or spreading cynicism; it’s about what you see and feel between the two people you root for. For those of us who support Lukola, our belief stems from the extraordinary connection we’ve witnessed between Luke and Nicola. It’s something that doesn’t come along every day.

It’s not about shipping every supposed relationship they might have, that approach dilutes the magic of what we see in them. Even if they confirm that they are indeed in those relationships, will I support those ones? Not really because I’ve seen many of those; if they love it, I like it .Their lives, their choices. Not every relationship needs to be shipped, and that’s okay. If Lukola isn’t your ship, then jump ship. No one is asking you to believe, but also, don’t bring your doubt and negativity into a space meant for those who trust and support this connection.

This space is for believers, for those who see and celebrate something extraordinary. If you can’t see it or choose not to, that’s fine, but don’t pollute the energy of those who do. We’re here for Luke and Nicola together, and our faith in them doesn’t need validation from those who don’t share it. Let us enjoy this space as it’s meant to be a celebration of love, connection, and the beauty of their bond.

It’s not about being delusional or not accepting the facts as reality. It’s about recognizing something profound, something rare that transcends other real or supposed connections. We don’t believe their bond is just platonic, just PR, or just friendship. If you still think that you need actively LISTEN and pay a closer look and EAR at what is publicly available. It goes beyond that. What we see is something that defies the boundaries of ordinary relationships.

This isn’t about diminishing the significance of other relationships they may have; it’s about acknowledging that what Luke and Nicola share is singular, a once in a lifetime kind of connection. It’s not something that can be replicated or overshadowed. It’s more.

This ship isn’t built on superficial observations or wishful thinking, it’s rooted in what they’ve shown us. It’s something you don’t see every day, and certainly not in every connection. It’s about believing in the rarity of what they have and celebrating it for the unique bond it is.

For those of us who believe, this feels more like something bigger, more meaningful, and more enduring than any fleeting moment.

This corner of the internet wasn’t created to be all things to all people, it was built with a clear and intentional purpose: to celebrate, believe in, and support the connection between Luke and Nicola. It’s a space rooted in trust, admiration, and the shared belief that what they have is rare and extraordinary.

If someone finds that they no longer resonate with that purpose, that’s okay. People grow, perspectives shift, and interests change. But the respectful and graceful thing to do is to quietly take your leave. Staying to criticize or sow negativity only detracts from the energy and intention of the space, which is to uplift and celebrate, not to argue or debate.

This community thrives on faith and positivity. It’s for those who still see the magic, who choose to believe, and who want to nurture a space filled with that same belief. If that’s no longer where your heart lies, it’s perfectly fine to move on, do the same if you think that we’re crazy, but let us continue to build on the foundation that brought them here.

"If you know, you know."This phrase perfectly encapsulates what it means to believe in something that isn’t always spelled out but is undeniably felt. Like the kind of connection that doesn’t need an announcement because it’s there, plain as day, for those who see it.

“If you know, you know" speaks to the undeniable energy and chemistry between Luke and Nicola. In their silence, because sometimes, what’s not said speaks louder than words.

For those who know, no explanation is necessary. For those who don’t, no explanation will ever be enough. That’s the beauty of it. Some things are felt, not proven, and if you know, you know.

[merwgue]

The idea of Nyx and Tamlin becoming mates in a platonic, parental sense is an incredibly profound and heartwarming twist. It redefines what it means to be a mate—showing that the deepest connections aren’t always romantic but can also be based on trust, care, and the unconditional love found in parental relationships.

Imagine Nyx, the child of two deeply traumatized and distracted parents—Feyre and Rhysand. Despite their best efforts, they rush into parenthood for all the wrong reasons, feeling the pressure of impending danger and the belief that time is running out. They're powerful, yes, but so burdened by their past that they can’t give Nyx the love and attention he needs to thrive. They try to be present, but emotional neglect slowly seeps in, leaving Nyx feeling alone, unloved, and desperate for connection. They compensate with material things, but it’s not enough. Nyx is still just a boy, craving someone who will truly see him.

At around ten years old, in an attempt to make his parents notice him, Nyx starts sneaking off to the Spring Court. What begins as an act of rebellion turns into something entirely unexpected. Tamlin—who has been broken, hollow, and struggling to rebuild his life—finds this small, vulnerable boy suddenly seeking him out. At first, Tamlin is hesitant. He’s never been good with children. He doesn’t know how to connect, especially not after all the devastation he’s been through. But slowly, Nyx keeps coming back, visiting him again and again. Tamlin begins to open up, maybe not in grand gestures, but in small acts of kindness—offering Nyx a safe space, listening when he speaks, giving him attention that’s not laced with expectation or distraction.

As the months pass, something shifts. Nyx starts to see Tamlin not as the feared High Lord of the Spring Court, but as someone who cares for him in a way that his own parents cannot. He finds solace in Tamlin’s presence, and Tamlin, in turn, finds a sense of purpose in looking after Nyx. It’s not about power or obligation—it’s simply about being there for this boy who so clearly needs a father figure. Tamlin never asked to be a father, but he can’t ignore the bond that’s quietly forming between them.

Then one day, after countless visits, Nyx accidentally calls Tamlin “papa.” It slips out in a moment of vulnerability, perhaps after a particularly rough day back at home. Immediately, Nyx freezes, terrified of how Tamlin might react. He starts to apologize, stumbling over his words, thinking he’s crossed a line. But instead of pulling away, Tamlin wraps him in a hug, a genuine, comforting embrace, and quietly says, “If you want me to, I will.” And in that moment, everything shifts.

The world seems to stop for both of them. The bond that snaps into place isn’t the romantic mating bond we’re used to seeing—it’s something entirely different. It’s a bond built on trust, on care, on the love of a protector for a child who needs him. It’s a parental bond, the kind that says, I will be here for you, always. I will keep you safe. I will love you like my own.

Nyx finally feels seen, finally feels loved in a way that’s not forced or transactional. And Tamlin, who has been so lost and broken, finds a new sense of purpose. He never expected to be anyone’s father, but in that moment, he becomes one—not because of blood or obligation, but because of the bond that has formed between him and this boy. Nyx starts calling him "papa," and Tamlin, despite all his fears, accepts it with open arms.

This is why Sarah J. Maas should expand the idea of mates beyond just romantic connections. Mates should be about completing each other’s souls, in whatever form that takes. For Nyx and Tamlin, it’s not about romantic love—it’s about the love between a father and a child, a love that grows naturally and beautifully out of shared understanding, trust, and care. And in the end, it’s this bond that brings healing to both of them.

[madewithlove-sophie]

Beneath the Mask | Simon Ghost Riley Fanfiction

Teaser: Bleeding Hearts | Next | Masterlist

Amid the chaos of a world teetering on the brink of war, Y/N Shepherd and Simon "Ghost" Riley share a connection that neither can ignore, yet both are reluctant to fully embrace. Their bond, forged through shared battles and unspoken understanding, runs deeper than either of them is willing to admit. The tension between them crackles in the silence of the night, in the moments when their hands brush or their eyes meet, both haunted by the weight of their responsibilities.

One night, as they find themselves alone, the barriers they've carefully built around their emotions begin to crumble.

"Are you sure this is the right choice?" Y/N asks, her voice low, but laced with doubt. She stands close enough for Ghost to feel the heat of her presence, yet far enough to keep the distance that they both know they need.

Ghost's mask hides his face, but his eyes are sharp, watching her every move. "We don't have the luxury of second guesses," he replies, his voice gruff.

Y/N shakes her head, frustrated. "It's not about second guesses, it's about trust. And you don't trust me."

Ghost’s posture stiffens, and for a moment, the distance between them feels suffocating. "I trust you more than you think," he murmurs, his voice almost betraying a hint of vulnerability.

The air between them shifts, and for a fleeting second, it seems like the world could disappear, leaving just the two of them. But the moment is broken as she takes a step back, her gaze faltering.

"I can't do this," she whispers, more to herself than to him, her voice a mixture of desire and doubt.

Ghost watches her, his gaze intense, eyes hidden behind the mask, but the tension between them is palpable. Every muscle in his body screams to move, to close the distance between them, but he stays rooted to the spot. He can feel the heat of her proximity, the silence thick with unspoken words. His voice comes out low, almost a growl.

"You think you can just walk away from this?" he asks, the edge of frustration clear.

Y/N hesitates, her breath catching, but she doesn’t take a step back. "I’m not walking away. I’m trying to keep my damn head on straight. We both know this is dangerous."

His eyes narrow, his jaw tightening beneath the mask. "So, what? You think I’m just supposed to forget what’s between us? Forget that every time I turn around, you're there—getting in my head, making me wonder what the hell I'm doing?" His words come faster, sharper, the rawness of the truth slipping out.

Y/N’s chest tightens, her fists clenching. "Maybe you should. Because I’m not here to be another distraction. I have my own demons, Ghost. And you’ve got yours. This—" She gestures between them, her voice trembling. "This isn’t the place for whatever this is. We’re supposed to focus on the mission!"

Ghost steps forward, closing the gap just enough for Y/N to feel the heat of his presence, but still keeping his distance. "I can’t just shut it off," he spits, his voice thick with frustration. "And neither can you. Stop pretending like this isn’t real."

Her eyes flicker with something—anger, fear, longing—but she refuses to back down. "You think I want this? I didn’t ask for this. I’m not a fucking liability."

He steps closer, their bodies nearly touching now, his voice barely a whisper. "Then stop acting like one." His tone is cold, but beneath it, there's a hint of something deeper—something he refuses to acknowledge.

The air between them is thick, the weight of their unspoken emotions hanging in the balance. Y/N can feel her breath catch, and just as she's about to respond, her phone vibrates in her pocket.

She freezes, the moment between them shattering instantly. Ghost notices the phone, his posture stiffening immediately. His eyes narrow, instinctively on alert.

Y/N sighs deeply, a mixture of frustration and resignation in her voice. She pulls the phone from her pocket, her gaze falling to the screen. The name staring back at her sends a chill down her spine.

General Shepherd.

Without thinking, she answers the call, her fingers trembling just slightly. "Yes, Dad?" she asks, her voice steady but betraying a hint of strain.

Ghost watches her, his breath caught in his throat, every instinct telling him to leave, to get out of this mess before it gets any worse. But he stays rooted to the spot, the distance between them suddenly feeling insurmountable.

Y/N's expression tightens as she listens to her father on the other end, her jaw clenching. Ghost can see the weight of the conversation unfolding in her eyes, the shift in her demeanor as she reluctantly listens to her father's commands. The air is thick with the lingering tension of their earlier confrontation, but it feels like it’s been overshadowed now by something darker, something that neither of them can ignore.

As she listens, her eyes flicker over to Ghost—barely a glance, but enough to speak volumes.

[rockalillygirl]

Murderbot Holding Hands

(Minor spoilers alert for Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, Exit Strategy pls check the tags)

First real post because I’m shy. Don’t know why it’s going to be a hyper-specific murderbot meta but here we go:

I’ve been rereading all the books after finishing System Collapse <3 and I want to talk about a small moment in Artificial Condition that I’d never noticed before. It’s near the end of the book when Tapan is in ART’s medsystem after nearly dying, and SecUnit says that when Tapan wakes up it’s holding her hand.

When Tapan woke, I was sitting on the MedSystem’s platform holding her hand. (Artificial Condition, p. 155 in my ebook)

I thought it was a really sweet moment, but it also kind of puzzled me because of SecUnit’s aversion to touch. Later when I was reading Exit Strategy, I noticed a similar moment when SecUnit holds hands with Mensah to help disguise them as they’re trying to escape TranRollinHyfa.

[Mensah] took a deep breath and looked up at me. “We can look calm. We’re good at that.” Yeah, we were. I did a quick review to make sure I was running all my not-a-SecUnit code, then I thought of one more thing I could do. As we stepped out of the pod, I took Mensah’s hand. (Exit Strategy, p. 87)

Reading these scenes felt different in a couple ways. In my opinion, SecUnit taking Mensah’s hand in Exit Strategy seemed like more of a big deal because it was a part of SecUnit’s reunion with Mensah, and we see its thoughts and emotions leading up to it. And it tracks that SecUnit might feel ok holding Mensah’s hand in that situation because of their close friendship. But the moment in Artificial Condition is more mysterious. We don’t get any of SecUnit’s internal monologue at the beginning because the scene opens when Tapan wakes up. And even though it’s clear in the book that SecUnit likes Tapan along with Rami and Maro, I wouldn’t say their relationship is anywhere near as close as its bond with Mensah. So why did it hold her hand?

I think it’s a neat moment that’s fun to ponder! And I have some vague ideas I’d like to share about it. (Some of this is based on the books and some is my speculation as an ace/aspec person dealing with touch aversion.) (Also none of these thoughts are mutually exclusive!)

Maybe SecUnit saw holding Tapan’s hand as a form of first aid after her traumatic experience and didn’t want her to panic waking up in a strange ship’s medsystem. This fits with SecUnit bracing itself to hug Mensah in Exit Strategy. (The memes of this moment are perfect lol)

But I was the only one here, so I braced myself and made the ultimate sacrifice. “Uh, you can hug me if you need to.” She started to laugh, then her face did something complicated and she hugged me. I upped the temperature in my chest and told myself it was like first aid. (Exit Strategy, pp. 82-3)

But I feel like SecUnit might not care as much about comforting Tapan in a similar way if it hadn’t already built up some kind of trust with her? Which brings me to Thought 2:

I think SecUnit might have felt safe holding Tapan’s hand because of the moment in Artificial Condition in the second transient hostel when Tapan laid down next to it. (Ofc I think rescuing Tapan from Tlacey’s ship was also a factor, trauma-bonding and all. But to me this moment in the hostel is more important.)

Thirty-two minutes later, I heard movement. I thought Tapan was getting up to go to the restroom facility, but then she settled on the pad behind me, not quite touching my back… I had never had a human touch me, or almost touch me, like this before and it was deeply, deeply weird. (Artificial Condition, pp. 136-7)

This is one of my favorite sequences in Artificial Condition (which is also my favorite book in the series because of ART! And because I find it quiet, reflective, and weirdly cozy even though objectively few cozy things happen now that I think about it). The scene is pretty mundane with a lot of fun bits like SecUnit pretending to need to use the restroom, be on a diet, etc. And we usually don’t get to see SecUnit hanging out with only one person. So it gives room for some small, but important feelings that I don’t think SecUnit has time to explore when it’s busy saving the day. Like how it feels about physical contact with humans.

(idk it reminds me of how like in ghibli films there’s usually at least one scene with the characters eating a meal or something because it sort of grounds everything else. I just like it!)

Tapan being close to SecUnit seems to throw if off-guard, but the context of the scene feels non-threatening and pretty mellow. So I think this gives SecUnit the opportunity to check-in with itself about this new experience. It still feels weird about it, but not in a scary or upsetting way. I think it’s almost this mutual vulnerability (Tapan feeling vulnerable and seeking comfort and SecUnit feeling vulnerable about her closeness and its own boundaries) that creates a bond between them, and that’s why SecUnit reaches out to Tapan to comfort her when she wakes up onboard ART.

That scene has become really special to me. And I would argue that it’s an important moment to SecUnit too because it brings it up again in Exit Strategy, along with a later moment in Rogue Protocol, thinking about times when it’s experienced physical contact with humans in a non-traumatizing way.

Except it wasn’t entirely awful. It was like when Tapan had slept next to me at the hostel, or when Abene had leaned on me after I saved her; strange, but not as horrific as I would have thought. (Exit Strategy, p. 83)

These moments seem to lead up to SecUnit offering to comfort Mensah later on because it’s reached a point where it feels willing to do so for her sake, even if it doesn’t want to seek out that kind of comfort for itself. And it’s really cool to see SecUnit navigate this throughout the books.

SecUnit starts the series with a strong innate sense that it doesn’t want to be touched by humans, but it’s allowed to refine those feelings in light of its new experiences. It’s boundaries are situational and personal, and even well-meaning humans sometimes struggle to understand them at first. Other times, SecUnit finds it difficult to understand it’s own feelings regarding touch and even changes its mind. But, importantly, the narrative always presents this as valid and worthy of respect.

This is a much more nuanced and realistic portrayal of defining boundaries than I’ve seen in a lot of media- one where it’s a constant and sometimes confusing process of self-discovery.

And these might seem like obvious concepts to some people, but they weren’t for me growing up. I really wish I’d read these books when I was younger, and maybe I would’ve given myself more grace to define my comfort level, grow, and change. But I’m glad that I’m in a place now where I can see and appreciate these things in what’s become one of my favorite series.

Anyway, I don’t want to say "thanks for coming to my TedTalk” lol. But very grateful to anyone who reads this and hope it was thought-provoking. Would be interested to hear other people’s thoughts on these scenes!

[doctorkinktraveller]

During the filming of Yellowstone, Luke Grimes and Kelsey Asbille shared a deeply emotional moment that moved everyone around them. Their characters, Kayce and Monica, have a relationship filled with love, loss, and resilience, and both actors committed fully to capturing the rawness of their journey. One day, they were filming a particularly intense scene dealing with the grief of losing a child, a moment that was heartbreaking for both the characters and the actors bringing it to life.

As they rehearsed, Kelsey found herself overwhelmed by the sadness of the scene, and tears began to fill her eyes. Sensing her struggle, Luke gently took her hand and looked at her with a quiet understanding, as if to say, "We’re in this together." When the cameras started rolling, Luke’s character held her with such tenderness that it brought a wave of real emotions to the scene.

After the director called “cut,” neither of them let go immediately. They held each other in silence, both visibly moved by the weight of the moment. Luke softly said to Kelsey, “I couldn’t do this without you,” a testament to the trust and bond they’d built both on and off the screen. Crew members were seen quietly wiping away tears, deeply affected by the real connection and vulnerability between the two actors. It was a moment of genuine emotion that left an impact on everyone there, a reminder of the dedication they brought to portraying Kayce and Monica’s love and resilience.

[sweetdispatch]

Hi V!!!! Can you please do “Do you regret it?” “You threw three years out of window” “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” with Nico please? Love you 🫶🏻

XX Cree🩵

ahh you're spoiling me with the requests!

prompt list

It’s been a peaceful night, at least that’s what you thought. You were scrolling your twitter and saw pictures of Nico being too friendly with one of the girls for your liking. You trusted him but the photos showed you clearly that he’s having fun with someone who doesn't look like you. You recognised that they are pictures from last month since he still had the mustache. 

Your head was spiralling. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You didn’t want this to be true. There’s definitely an explanation for them. You decided to wait for his return to confront him. You needed the answers because you started losing your mind. Nico got back home and acted like nothing ever happened. He went to give you a kiss but you turned your head.

“What’s with you?” He asked.

“Can you explain to me these pictures?” You handed him your phone and his skin became pale. You knew it that moment that he got caught cheating on you. 

“Yeah, she’s a…” He started but you interrupted him. 

“Do you regret this?” It was a simple question. 

“I don’t regret this because nothing happened. you’re jumping into conclusions” Nico lied and you knew that he lied. His eyes were everywhere but not on you. 

“You know that you threw three years out of window, right?” You said calmly trying to keep your tears from spilling. 

“Honey…” Nico tried to reach you but you didn’t let him. 

“Don’t “honey” me” You sobbed. “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?”

“Of course! I love you” 

“You see, I have a hard time believing it. I… I don’t trust you Nico anymore”

“Please…”

“No, it’s over. I can’t be with you when you’re fucking other women when I’m sitting at home waiting for you every night. I wish you had the dignity to admit to this. It would be less painful than finding out from twitter” You were crying. 

“Please, give me another chance” Nico begged you.

“I can’t… I’m sorry Nico but you ruined everything we’ve built in the past years. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom today and move out tomorrow. We’re over” You said and left him alone in the living room.

Nico knew he messed up real good and regretted this deeply. Now, he needs to fight for you back but do you give him another chance? 

part 2

[felassan]

BioWare Blog post: An Update on the State of BioWare

by BioWare - August 23, 2023

"Hello again, Today, rather than discuss one of our upcoming projects, I’d like to share an update about the studio itself and outline our vision for BioWare’s future. In order to meet the needs of our upcoming projects, continue to hold ourselves to the highest standard of quality, and ensure BioWare can continue to thrive in an industry that’s rapidly evolving, we must shift towards a more agile and more focused studio. It will allow our developers to iterate quickly, unlock more creativity, and form a clear vision of what we’re building before development ramps up. To achieve this, we find ourselves in a position where change is not only necessary, but unavoidable. As difficult as this is to say, rethinking our approach to development inevitably means reorganizing our team to match the studio’s changing needs.  As part of this transition, we are eliminating approximately 50 roles at BioWare. That is deeply painful and humbling to write. We are doing everything we can to ensure the process is handled with empathy, respect, and clear communication. With that last point in mind, I want to take a moment to explain how we got here, what we’re doing to support our colleagues, and what this means for BioWare’s current and future games. WHAT’S HAPPENING NOW After much consideration and careful planning, we have built a long-term vision that will preserve the health of the studio and better enable us to do what we do best: create exceptional story-driven single-player experiences filled with vast worlds and rich characters. This vision balances the current needs of the studio—namely, ensuring Dragon Age™: Dreadwolf is an outstanding game—with its future, including the success of the next Mass Effect™. We’ve chosen to act now in part to provide our impacted colleagues with as many internal opportunities as possible. These changes coincide with a significant number of roles that are currently open across EA’s other studios. Impacted employees will be provided with professional resources and assistance as they apply for these positions. While it’s unlikely that everyone will find a new role within the company, we are committed to supporting our staff as they navigate this change. Our sincere hope is that they can continue their exemplary work at studios who stand to benefit immensely from their talents. IMMEDIATE IMPACT If you’re wondering how all of this will impact development of Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, let me be clear that our dedication to the game has never wavered. Our commitment remains steadfast, and we all are working to make this game worthy of the Dragon Age name. We are confident that we’ll have the time needed to ensure Dreadwolf reaches its full potential. I can also tell you that every member of our team, even those departing BioWare, deserves credit for crafting a spectacular experience. These are our colleagues and friends, and we would not be here without them. I am so proud of all the work our team has done. WHAT COMES NEXT While this is an extremely difficult day for everyone at BioWare, we are making changes now to build a brighter future. We’re excited for all of you to see what we’ve been building with Dreadwolf. A core veteran team led by Mike Gamble continues their pre-production work on the next Mass Effect. Our commitment to quality continues to be our North Star. As cliche as this sounds, there truly is never a good time to enact changes like this, but we trust that we have the right leaders and team in place with vision, passion, and proven track records to deliver world-class Dragon Age and Mass Effect experiences that our fans will love. For now, I want to thank everyone at BioWare—past and present—for making the studio what it is. I also want to thank our community for your continued support. We’re eager to reveal more about Dreadwolf, and we look forward to discovering what else the future holds. Gary McKay General Manager, BioWare"

[source]

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 41)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (40) | Next (42)

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 2k

------ Chapter 41: Nothing to Lose ------

"Let’s go. Now.” 

Millie flinched, flabbergasted. “What?” 

“You heard me.” 

“B-b-but, that’s impossible! We can’t!” 

“Yes we can.” 

“I’ve told you, there’s no escape! Even if we miraculously sneak past Ajax undetected, Chester will hunt us down by scent! He’ll catch us, and when he does…” A shiver coursed from her head to her toes. “We’re done for.” 

“I don’t care, Millie. I’m going to escape or die trying. You may have the will to persevere, but I can’t survive living like this for another second. I’m leaving.” 

“Candy, no! You can’t!” Millie hissed frantically, even as Candy inched forward, shrugging off the weight of the giant’s immense hand. She gradually wiggled free of his fingers and started crawling slowly across his chest, careful not to wake him. “Candy!” 

“Come with me,” Candy whispered back. Both girls froze in place as the giant king shifted in his sleep. He settled back down, breathing steadily, his tremendous chest rising and falling beneath them like the flow of the tide. 

“I…” Millie swallowed hard. “I can’t.” 

“Please, Millie. Can’t you see this is no way to live, groveling and worshipping a demon? You need to try. What do you possibly have to lose, at this point?”  

Millie thought a long moment before replying. My life. All the goodwill I’ve built up over the years. Friends that could’ve been saved, if the fickle king hadn’t been cross in the moment. All of it. Everything. Evaporated into the ether, all because of my own failings, because I was too weak. Her voice dropped to a pitiful whimper, barely audible over the whoosh of voluminous lungs. “I’m scared.” 

“Millie…” Candy looked at her with eyes shining in the shrouded moonlight. “It’ll be okay. Trust me.” 

Millie contracted her throat again, gulping down her fears. She was willing to put her faith in Candy. The allure of freedom was too tempting to refuse, if she dared to wish it. “Al… alright.” Trembling violently, she crept out of the arch of digits and joined Candy. Her fellow human encouraged her along as they crossed the plain of skin. They reached the hillside of the giant’s bicep and carefully descended, keeping their steps as light and soft as possible. Candy sighed in relief when she jumped to the mattress. Millie’s shaking had only increased. Her knees knocked together as they crossed the vast topography of lavish silken sheets, until they finally reached the edge. The two women stared nervously over the precipice, to the impossibly long drop below that would undoubtedly kill them if they fell. 

“C-C-Candy, I d-don’t think I can d-do this,” Millie stuttered. 

“We can’t stop now. We’ll find a way down. We just have to climb.” 

“No, I mean… m-maybe we should just forget this whole thing and go back.” She pointed at the mass of man looming above them on the horizon. “It’s not too late. W-we can just climb up to his chest again, he’ll never know we were gone, we can sweep this whole thing under the rug and he’ll never know, he’ll be none the wiser and we won’t get caught and punished—” Her voice raised in pitch as she started to hyperventilate in her panic, spiraling out of control as she vomited out her words in clumsy haste. 

Candy grabbed her shoulders. “Millie, get a grip!” They both froze when the mattress moved beneath them, as the behemoth stirred in his sleep. He settled in and resumed his snores. Candy let out a relieved sigh. 

“Millie, I know you’re strong,” Candy continued. “Don’t turn back now. We need to get out of here. Both of us. I’m not leaving you behind.” 

Millie inhaled deeply, then exhaled, hugging herself with her arms. “Okay,” she whispered. 

“Let’s go.” Candy had fantasized about escaping every night since she’d been in Giganterra, so she was mentally prepared despite the obstacles in her path. She clasped the purple silk firmly in her hands and began her descent, allowing herself some controlled falls when the folds presented an opportunity. Millie watched for a minute before following. Her hands were quaking so badly that she could barely hold on, but she persevered nonetheless, bolstered by Candy’s boldness. 

The climb was exhausting, and terrifying, and dangerous, but they both made it to the floor without incident. Despite the burning in her arms and the fatigue in her chest, Candy pressed on, pulling Millie behind her with a clammy hand. They crossed the huge bearskin rug, an extensive meadow of brown fur, to the stone bricks of the floor. The stones were rough and uneven at such a scale, and traversing the cracks and rough texture was similar to a hike through rugged terrain. 

The tiny humans slipped through the gap under the door cautiously. King Richard’s suite, besides the bedroom and bathroom, contained a living room area with luxurious couches and a fireplace, along with a small adjacent room for his manservant to sleep. Fortunately, the other giant was deep in slumber, so Candy and Millie were able to scurry across the enormous space undetected. The taps of their small footsteps weren’t enough to reach the distant walls to cast an echo, causing the empty space around them to feel strangely muted. Millie was unsettled, but at least grateful that they wouldn’t wake up the giant servant. 

They made it to the exit door that led out of the private suite. Millie’s breath hitched in her throat when she peered under, only to behold the gigantic heels of Ajax’s boots on the other side. “We’re done for,” she whined softly.  

“What do you mean?” 

“The guard. He’ll see us. He’ll catch us. There’s no other way out.” She buried her face in her hands. “I knew it was a lost cause.” 

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now,” Candy argued. “We must go on.” She peeked out. “Maybe he’s sleeping while standing up, like you said he does. It’s the middle of the night, he can’t be that attentive.” 

Millie shook her head despondently. “I told you already, he’s been enchanted with magic. Something is… wrong with him. He’s not a normal person.” 

“I’m going to try,” Candy declared. “We’ve gotten this far; I’m not ready to give up now. I'll go first, and you can follow me.” 

Millie blanched. Candy grasped her shoulders again. “Listen to me. If I get caught… I want you to promise me that you’ll keep going, and strive with every fiber of your being to escape unscathed. Okay?” 

“Candy, I couldn’t possibly leave you behind—" 

“Promise me!” 

 Candy’s intense gaze burned into her. Millie clinched her jaw and nodded. “I promise.” 

“Look, I’m so small compared to him anyways, I doubt he’ll even notice. I’ll just slink along slowly and quietly. It’ll be fine. Trust me.” She patted Millie’s shoulder and rotated to the door. Millie resisted the urge to grab her and pull her back to safety. She could only watch as Candy crawled under the door to the stairwell. 

Candy’s heart palpitated as she emerged on the other side, Ajax’s huge leather boot dwarfing her. She had lied to Millie. She wasn’t confident that she’d be able to sneak past without being spotted, though she sincerely hoped so. She believed there was a chance of success, however slim. The moonlight pouring in through the window seemed as bright as a spotlight as it illuminated the stoic colossus rising hundreds of feet above her.  

Candy was too scared to look up at the giant guard. She skirted the walls, slipping into the inky shadows to hide her presence. Her feet shuffled forward, inch by inch, as she prayed to whatever deity would listen for the gift of invisibility. Ajax stood in place without any indication of life; all Candy could see from her perspective was his monumental boot and leg, like a solid pillar of stone.  

The stillness was unnerving. Candy’s blood pounded loudly in her ears, drowning out the uneasy silence. The tension became too much to bear and Candy halted in place, struggling not to gasp audibly for breath. The first ledge of the stairs was so close, just a few feet away. She leaned forward to peer over the edge and experienced a rush of vertigo as she saw how far she’d have to go to reach the bottom of the staircase. She turned away and took a deep breath to center herself. 

A prickle of unease darted up her spine, a primordial instinct awakening within her. Candy went rigid as a cold bead of sweat dribbled down her temple. She stiffly pivoted her head upwards, icy fingers of fear encircling her neck in a noose. Her eyes trailed up the body of the fearsome behemoth, over his intimidating oversized weaponry and defined musculature, until she reached his face. An involuntary choked cry emerged from her lips as her eyes met the hard, black, solitary eye of the guard far above, staring directly into her. 

His frigid gaze pinned her to the floor. Her mind screamed at her legs to run, but her limbs refused to respond, as if she were hypnotized. She felt like a fly trapped in a spider’s web, entangled and suspended in place by sticky thread. Time seemed to freeze for an eternity as his gigantic eye bore into her. 

The guard stooped over, his knee crashing down next to Candy. She squeaked with fright and fled as the spell was broken by his disruption, but the massive man effortlessly snagged her with his thick, rough fingers. Candy cried out as she watched the ground drop away beneath her, until she was level with the cyclopean eye. The guard examined her impassively as she screeched with alarm, waving her arms and legs wildly. 

Ajax grunted, closing his fist entirely around her and shrouding her in darkness. Candy pounded her hands and feet into the inner well of his digits, to no avail. The giant surveyed the floor around the stairs before opening the door behind him and lumbering into the king’s chambers. He searched around the couches and tables, lifting them up effortlessly with his herculean strength. He checked under the rugs, along the walls, behind the curtains, in all the cracks and crevasses where a little mouse could hide. Candy’s heart bludgeoned her chest cavity from the terrible suspense. She knew he was searching for Millie, but she couldn’t see anything from the hollow of his fist. She was blind and powerless. 

When Ajax failed to find the other escapee, he entered the king’s bedroom. Hardon was sprawled out on the bed, snoring, with his hand resting on his chest. His guard monitored him with a blank stare for several minutes, as if processing conflicting information. He looked to the king’s cupped hand on his chest, then to the human terrarium, then back to his hand. His hold on Candy loosened enough for her to poke her head out of his gargantuan fist. 

At first, she didn’t understand what he was doing. She could almost see the cogs and wheels turning in his boulder of a head, like he was struggling to understand something. He appeared more like a golem or an animated machine than a man, as if he didn’t have the mental faculties to think properly. She followed his gaze to the king, and the realization gradually dawned on her: He was trying to see if Millie was present, under his hand. 

With the humans being so small, smaller than a single finger on a giant’s hand, it would be easy for her to be concealed there unseen. Ajax knew not to wake the king without good reason. He didn’t wish to invoke his wrath or disturb his slumber. He decided that Millie must be there, where he couldn’t see her. He dropped Candy in the terrarium and resumed his post without a second thought. After all, even if Millie wasn’t in the care of the king, the giant guard understood that no human would be able to escape Chester’s sensitive nose. Without a doubt, she would be found and caught again. 

Chapter 42

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms

[lady-loveluck]

might i gift u with this short michie fic

As the plane began to taxi down the runway, Richie’s hands gripped the armrests. His knuckles turned white, and a slight tremor ran through his fingers.

“Relax, dude,” Max said, glancing at Richie. “It’s just takeoff. Worst that can happen is we crash and burn in a fiery explosion.”

Richie paled. “Thanks, Max. Really comforting.”

Max chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Just kidding. These things are built to withstand way worse. Trust me.”

Richie closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He didn’t realize when his hand slipped over Max’s, fingers intertwining subconsciously. Max glanced down at their hands, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he didn’t pull away.

Pete leaned over to Stephanie, whispering. “Check out Richie and Max. They’re holding hands,”

Stephanie grinned. “Aww, that’s adorable. Richie’s probably freaking out.”

Grace, overhearing, turned around in her seat. “Hey, Max! Didn’t know you were into hand-holding.”

Max raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What can I say? Richie’s got soft hands.”

Richie’s eyes flew open, face flushing red. He tried to pull his hand away, but Max held on, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Relax, man. We’re almost in the air.”

The plane tilted upwards, engines roaring as it ascended into the sky. Richie’s grip tightened, but Max’s steady presence beside him seemed to help. After a few minutes, the plane leveled off, the seatbelt sign dinging off.

“There, see?” Max said, finally letting go of Richie’s hand. “Easy peasy.”

Richie exhaled deeply. “Yeah, thanks, Max. I owe you one.”

Max shrugged. “No big deal. Just don’t puke on me, and we’re good.”

THIS IS ADORABLE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH WAAAA

[96z]

i really don't mean to argue, but i don't agree with shaming third-party voters. i voted 3rd party bc i live in a deeply blue state and i wanted to show allegiance with the palestinian community in my state (paterson nj) that voted for stein. to shame 3rd party voters, means shaming palestinian and arab americans around the nation.

the dems sent bill clinton to michigan to justify their actions and shame arab americans. the fault is in the growing fascism in this country and the dems for not earning their vote.

harris should've never been the nominee. the dems should've had a primary. she lost the popular vote! that's insane. she underperformed in nj compared to biden in 2020. these are all faults of the dems, not 3rd party voters.

this reel by jenan matari explains my thoughts well

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DBy4E6gPiSG/?igsh=ZmVrdmpocXAxcm5z

i get where you're coming from, and i respect that this is important to you— i’m not here to argue for the sake of it either. speaking as a muslim american voter with arab roots (my father is egyptian and white), who spent some of my most formative years in that very same area… i have a lot of frustration because what’s at stake here isn’t just political differences; it’s our safety, our families’ safety, and the survival of our communities. i’ve seen 4 years under trump and i’m honestly scared to see another 4. i don't think kamala was the best choice either, believe me, and it sucked to make the decision to vote for her. but i do believe we were never going to have a better choice, not in the short term, and definitely not from a third-party candidate. the system isn't built to let them win, at least not yet.

honestly, i understand why third-party voting feels like a way to send a message. but at the end of the day, i just don’t feel a third-party vote was going to lead to the change we need. with jill stein, she built a platform by presenting herself as someone pro-palestine who would immediately fight to end the genocide, but then ultimately unmasked herself as someone who is at best, a soft zionist, betraying the people who trusted her stance. it was devastating to see, and i hate that so many were misled. voting for her felt like a powerful stand. but in the bigger picture, her campaign, like so many third-party campaigns, didn’t stand a chance of creating real change in this election.

but the reason i didn’t specifically mention her is that to me, this isn’t only about jill stein or those who voted third party. my anger is not with them. in this election, nearly 600,000 people (mostly white conservatives) voted for robert kennedy, a foolish candidate with staunch anti-vax views, who will likely be working alongside trump now that he’d won again. another 900,000 or so went to other third-party candidates. those votes didn’t go anywhere that would shift anything in our favor, and they ended up supporting a system that’s dangerously close to tipping into fascism.

it frustrates me to think we maybe possibly potentially could’ve had a slightly better shot if some of those votes had been used differently, as some polsci experts suggest could’ve been the case. i don’t mean to shame anyone, but we’re all part of this system whether we like it or not. sometimes we have to make tough choices within it to protect ourselves and each other—even if it means holding our noses and voting for someone who isn’t our ideal. i do agree that in the end, the real fault lies with this country’s growing fascism and the democrats’ failure to earn and sustain trust, especially in marginalized communities.

like i said, it’s not even about the jill stein voters or people casting votes as a stand for palestine. some people (non minorities) voted third-party simply because they didn’t want to pick a side— look at the people who went for rfk or other candidates who don’t even align with real change or have any real plan. i didn’t call out any single candidate in particular because my frustration is with the entire phenomenon of voting for a candidate who will absolutely not be elected when we’re up against so much.

i do think that the presidential candidate should work to earn their place in the white house through genuine campaigning and engaging with the issues that matter to us. but imo trump didn’t exactly do that either. he’s not winning support through any real policies or outreach; he just has a bandwagon of followers, some of whom have terrifying views. his stance on muslims, israel, and basic human rights deeply scares me. no, i don’t feel that kamala truly ‘earned’ my vote either, and i don’t think anyone’s pretending she did. but i voted for her anyway for a couple reasons — one, because a lot of palestinians asked for us to vote for her, and two, because we can’t dismantle this system in one go.

this was my first time voting, and honestly, i’m angry that it had to come down to settling in this broken two-party system. i wish we had more choices, but this election wasn’t going to be the one to give us that option. i want change just as much as you do, and i believe we’ll get there one day. but realistically, it wasn’t going to happen this election. so i made the tough choice to take the L this time, hoping it will help set us up for something better down the line. the outcome really sucks

[merwgue]

(This is neither a pro nor anti post, this is merely to criticise SJM's writing. However, it will be tagged as "anti" because if I tag it neutral, I'll get jumped❤️)

Ah yes, the infamous communication void in Sarah J. Maas's books—a void so deep it could probably swallow the entire Night Court and still be hungry. SJM doesn’t just dabble in miscommunication; she throws her characters into emotional landmines and says, "You figure it out... or don’t." And that’s where the fated mates trope comes in, right? It’s supposed to patch up that mess with some mystical connection, as if being mates magically grants couples ESP-level knowledge of each other’s deepest feelings. Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

Let’s dive into why SJM’s version of communication—or lack thereof—just doesn’t hold water.

The Fated Mate Shortcut

In theory, fated mates should have some magical telepathic bond that transcends words. It's the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card for character development: why build healthy communication skills when the mating bond can conveniently swoop in to fill the gaps? In Maas’s world, this idea is wielded like an all-powerful tool: mates just know what the other is feeling, and therefore don't need to use this wild, ancient concept called words. The idea that fated mates can "sense" each other's emotions essentially sidelines the necessity of open dialogue. But here’s the problem: emotional intuition ≠ effective communication.

Psychologically speaking, emotional intelligence involves recognizing and managing your own emotions and the emotions of others. That’s not mind-reading! You can be deeply connected to someone, even soul-tied, and still have no idea what’s going on in their head. People are complex, and relationships require actual verbal communication to navigate emotional landscapes.

Take Feyre and Tamlin. They clearly loved each other but weren’t mates, which might be why their lack of communication felt so tangible and raw. The failure to express needs, fears, and insecurities is what led to their downfall, and honestly? That’s valid. Miscommunication or inability to communicate is one of the most common—and understandable—reasons relationships end. But do we get that sense of growth and change when Feyre hooks up with Rhysand? Not really. It’s like the narrative shifts gears from "Tamlin doesn’t understand Feyre" to "Rhysand just knows because they’re mates," completely skipping the part where Feyre needs to actually talk about what she went through.

The "Communication-Free" Mating Bond

Now we get to the Rhysand-Feyre dynamic. Once they're revealed as mates, it’s as though any need for in-depth conversations about feelings becomes redundant. The bond is treated as an unbreakable connection that automatically compensates for any emotional roadblocks. Rhysand messes up? It's okay, they’re mates. Feyre’s spiraling emotionally? Don’t worry, the bond will smooth that over. In psychological terms, this reliance on a supernatural bond as a "fix" is classic avoidant behavior. Instead of confronting the discomfort of working through problems, the narrative leans into this magical quick-fix. They’re bonded for life—problem solved, right?

Except it’s not.

Relationships—good ones, healthy ones—are built on effective communication, trust, and vulnerability. The mere presence of a fated mate bond doesn’t remove the need for these things. Mates don’t automatically understand each other’s trauma just because of some mystical bond. Imagine being so emotionally stunted that instead of apologizing or owning up to your mistakes, you’re just like, "But we’re mates, so it’s fine." Spoiler alert: it’s not fine.

Nessian: Miscommunication Meets the Mating Bond

And then we have Nesta and Cassian, whose relationship could be the ultimate case study in how not to communicate. Nesta, dealing with PTSD and trauma, is paired with Cassian, who—for all his supposed swagger—cannot for the life of him communicate effectively. They constantly clash, avoid real conversations about their pain, and sweep everything under the rug with physical intimacy. They kiss and make up, but no one is really talking. And that’s not love; that’s avoidance. It's like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

The bond between them is used as a crutch. When they fight, we’re supposed to believe that their mate bond will fix things eventually, but that's simply not how relationships work. Kissing your partner instead of discussing real problems is fine for a silly argument, but when it comes to serious issues—trauma, boundaries, power imbalances—it’s irresponsible. And the fact that Maas frames this as healthy because they’re mates is the narrative equivalent of gaslighting the reader into accepting toxic dynamics.

In psychological terms, this is where we see the conflict-avoidant and emotionally avoidant behaviors on full display. Cassian and Nesta both lack the emotional tools to effectively navigate their struggles, yet instead of being called out, their dysfunction is wrapped up in a bow of "fated mates" as if that’s supposed to be a solution. It’s not. The reality is that their bond does nothing to facilitate real healing; it’s just there as a placeholder for emotional growth that never comes.

The Unhealthy Dynamic

In psychology, we talk about secure attachment as the cornerstone of healthy relationships. You can have a deep connection, but you also need to work on things like trust, openness, and communication. What happens in Maas’s world is the opposite: the characters are codependent on this fated bond, rather than working toward a healthy attachment style. And SJM lets them off the hook. This narrative implies that emotional labor and apologizing for mistakes don’t really matter because "the bond will fix it." Not only does this undermine real, meaningful growth, but it also glosses over the entire point of relationships: to grow and learn together through the hard stuff.

When it comes to Cassian and Nesta, they literally can’t communicate. Cassian has all his own insecurities (hello, always calling himself a brute, never feeling worthy of Rhysand’s inner circle), and Nesta is navigating serious mental health struggles. They’re both drowning, but instead of Maas writing about how they could heal together, she plasters it with the band-aid of "mating bond."

At the end of the day, the whole "fated mates" trope in ACOTAR is a narrative cop-out that excuses bad communication and toxic dynamics. It’s okay to have flawed characters, but the problem is Maas doesn't treat them as flawed. She treats their lack of communication as something normal or even romantic. When in reality, if you can’t talk through your issues with your partner, no magical bond is going to save you.

So yeah, SJM’s version of "fated mates" feels like a lazy way to dodge the hard work of showing real character growth. And if these characters weren’t mates, they’d probably have broken up long ago—because healthy relationships are built on communication, not just magical convenience.

[extasiswings]

As someone who never watched bones, the bones blueprint???

What is the Bones blueprint? WELL, LET ME TELL YOU. So Bones is the show with one of, if not THE hetero slow burn ship of classic Fox procedural shows in the mid-2000s-early 2010s. (Pretty much every main network had at least one major procedural slow burn at a time. Fox had X-files, then Bones. ABC had Castle. CBS had NCIS and The Mentalist…you get it). So, let me set the stage with our characters:

Seeley Booth, played by David Boreanaz. Booth is an FBI Agent and former Army Ranger (with a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart and a certain amount of PTSD that he doesn’t like to discuss). Catholic. Complicated relationship with his family. More than a little repressed. Definitely needs therapy (and gets it eventually—at first when he’s required to go, and voluntarily in later seasons). Good at and devoted to his job. Single Dad who feels like he missed out on a lot of the early years of his son’s life and worries about being a good father (he asked his ex to marry him when she got pregnant, but she turned him down even though she loved him—at least early on in the series even though they aren’t together it’s discussed that they have a tendency to fall into bed not infrequently) [I swear I’m not making this up]. Anyway, you get the picture.

And behind Curtain No. 2, we have:

Temperance Brennan (Bones), played by Emily Deschanel. Brennan is a forensic anthropologist. Super smart, super scientific, doesn’t have great social skills, but definitely has the whole “perceived as cold but actually feels things very deeply” thing going on. Tragic backstory. She’s also a novelist.

So! Booth and Brennan. They work together, they’re partners, they solve murders. And, naturally, they have the whole opposites thing that works for them—she’s very book smart, he’s very street smart, she believes in facts and science and logic, he believes in intuition and gut feelings and faith, etc. etc. As is often the case with the aesthetic of the crime procedural slowburn ship, they start out sort of reluctantly working together, but eventually develop a real partnership built on trust and friendship (and love!).

Early on, she has some things in her past with her family that she asks for his help investigating so that she can get answers. There’s also a time in the second season where Brennan gets kidnapped by a serial killer and buried alive while Booth is stuck trying to find her, which in addition to still being just An Episode(™) remains one of the great, classic, early-in-the-slowburn “I almost lost you and it made me feel Some Kinda Way, but no no we’re just friends really, nothing to see here” defining arcs, especially since Brennan starts dating someone not too long after. The same serial killer returns in season four and snatches Booth that time, and then it’s Brennan’s turn to find him (with the help of Booth’s younger brother). Anyway, classic slow burn—there’s a lot of Implication that you could read into if you wanted throughout the first several seasons, but not necessarily super concrete (although they get caught under the mistletoe once), and there are several rounds of saving each other in various ways as over the years they just become closer and closer until they’re Partners(™) in every way (even when they’re dating other people).

What’s making me yell and scream today though, is: the S4 finale and S5. In the S4 finale, Booth is in a coma after having brain surgery. He has a wild coma dream where he and Brennan are married and they run a nightclub, but there still ends up being a murder—ANYWAY, irl Brennan basically spends the whole time he’s in a coma at his bedside, but then he wakes up and he has no memory of who she is. Pivot to S5, Booth remembers her again, and also feels like he might have romantic feelings for her, but (in part because of some third party commentary) questions whether they’re real or just a side-effect of the surgery. He sort of tells her anyway, but flubs it massively. Later in the season, we get Booth’s son being concerned that his dad doesn’t have a girlfriend, both Booth and Brennan separately getting relationship advice from third parties, and Brennan getting asked out by a new guy. And then! The 100th episode.

The 100th episode, which reveals the start of the series wasn’t their first case, they worked together once before and kissed and almost slept together, but hadn’t ended up going all the way. And after they’re done telling their story, Booth finally stops and kisses her and gets to give his big damn love confession, lays it all on the line, tells her he’s always known she was the one and wants to really try…and she freaks out and cries and turns him down, and he accepts it but says he has to move on. And then they both date other people before fully running away from each other for many months (Brennan on an anthropological dig, Booth back to Afghanistan for the military). (And then, when they come back, she’s ready to put on her big girl pants and give it a shot, except that he went and got a girlfriend who he seems happy with so we all get to suffer through a season of angst and pining while he proposes to someone who isn’t Brennan etc while everyone else is like “you’re still in love with her though” but they do sleep together by the end of S6 and ultimately get married and have two more kids (not in that order)).

So, yeah—the blueprint! Making me especially crazy because here we are with Buddie on a Fox procedural, 4 seasons since they really started trying it seems to make Buddie something potentially real, and Buck is heading into a coma where he's about to hallucinate another life, and the 100th episode is coming up near the beginning of next season (and I really hope Fox learned from Bones that there's such a thing as dragging out the slow burn too much and just lets them be happy after the big damn feelings reveal but XD).

[fateandfragments-fanfiction]

What Comes After - F!Reader x Claude von Riegan

Fire Emblem Three Houses (Time Skip)

Amid the chaos of war, Claude and Reader forge a bond built on trust, shared dreams, and unspoken promises. Together, they navigate the complexities of strategy and politics, discovering that hope feels easier when they have each other.

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[Name] leaned over the map sprawled across the desk, her fingers tracing the lines that described the Alliance's contested borders. Her focused gaze darted between the intricate markings she had made and the notes she had scrawled in the margins. Claude stood opposite her, his sharp green eyes flickering between her determined expression and the map. He leaned casually on one elbow, the usual irreverence in his posture slightly muted by the tension of the moment.

“So,” he began, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “your plan involves convincing the merchants to reroute their trade caravans entirely. You know they’ll complain about the costs, right?”

[Name] didn’t look up, her voice calm but firm. “They’ll complain, but they’ll comply if they believe it’s in their best interest. I’ve already drafted the economic projections to show how this route will be safer and more profitable in the long run. Besides,” she added, glancing at him now with a hint of challenge in her eyes, “you’re the one who always says people can be swayed if you frame the argument cleverly enough.”

Claude chuckled, leaning back. “True. You’re learning. I should feel threatened.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, one of rare amusement that came only when she was deeply engrossed in a project. “You're a good teacher.”

Claude straightened, his demeanor shifting as he placed a hand on the table to point at the southern section of the map. “We’ll need Lorenz to sell this idea to the nobles. They’ll trust him over me—or anyone else, for that matter. His name carries weight, and his reputation is squeaky clean enough to convince even the most stubborn lords.”

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “And do you think he’ll agree? He doesn’t exactly… take orders well.”

Claude’s smirk widened. “He doesn’t have to. We just need to make him believe this plan was his idea all along.”

[Name] sighed, shaking her head. “Manipulative as always.”

“Efficient,” Claude corrected, his tone playful.

The room fell into a thoughtful silence as they worked out the finer details of their scheme. [Name] jotted down notes while Claude shifted pieces on the map, occasionally brushing her hand as they both reached for the same area. The first time it happened, neither of them said anything. The second time, Claude’s smirk turned teasing.

“Careful, [Name]. People might think we’re getting along.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, steady and unimpressed. “The only thing they’ll think is that we’re focused on the survival of the Alliance. Unless, of course, you give them a reason to believe otherwise.”

“Touché,” he replied with a mock bow. “But you’ve got to admit, our collaboration is turning out to be something special.”

[Name] rolled her eyes, but the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Let’s just stick to the plan.”

By the time the meeting with Lorenz was arranged, the pieces were falling into place. Lorenz’s skeptical expression made [Name] brace herself for a barrage of objections. To her surprise, Claude opened the conversation with an uncharacteristically serious tone, laying out the broader vision for the Alliance’s future before deftly nudging Lorenz toward the proposed trade route adjustments.

“Of course, a noble of your standing would understand the importance of ensuring stability in these uncertain times,” Claude said, his tone dripping with casual flattery.

Lorenz adjusted his posture, clearly pleased. “Naturally. It is the duty of those with influence to guide others toward prosperity.”

Claude threw a quick, subtle glance at [Name], signaling her to take over. She straightened, addressing Lorenz with a composed demeanor.

“We’ve mapped out the most efficient routes and prepared an analysis of the economic impact,” she explained, sliding a meticulously prepared document across the table. “Your endorsement would carry significant weight among the merchant guilds, ensuring swift adoption of the plan.”

Lorenz studied the document with an approving nod. “Very well. I shall lend my voice to this endeavor. It is, after all, a sound and noble course of action.”

As Lorenz departed, Claude leaned against the table, watching [Name] gather her notes. “See? He thinks it’s all his idea. Told you this would work.”

[Name] gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re lucky he’s predictable.”

“And you’re lucky I’m charming.”

She scoffed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Debatable.”

Claude leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. “Admit it, [Name]. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around to keep things interesting.”

“Interesting isn’t the word I’d use,” she replied, turning her attention back to the map. “Infuriating is more like it.”

For a moment, she hesitated, her fingers pausing mid-motion on the map. The teasing lilt in his tone wasn’t unusual, but there was something else in his gaze, something quieter and more genuine. She brushed it off with a soft laugh and returned to the task at hand, but the lingering warmth in her chest stayed with her.

-----

The weeks that followed were a blur of coordination and negotiation. [Name] and Claude spent countless hours together, refining their plans, convincing skeptical merchants, and ensuring the nobility stayed in line. The long days blurred into late nights, the air in the strategy room growing heavy with ink, parchment, and the faint scent of Claude’s cologne—something woodsy and subtle that she couldn’t seem to ignore.

Their dynamic shifted in those weeks, the sharp edges of their banter softening into something more familiar. Claude’s teasing grew less pointed, more playful, and [Name] found herself responding in kind, her wit sharper but her tone lighter. She began to notice the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way he leaned just a little closer when he was explaining something to her.

One evening, as they poured over logistics in the dim light of the strategy room, Claude leaned back in his chair and stretched, his arms extending over his head. “You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “I’m starting to think you might actually enjoy working with me.”

[Name] didn’t look up from her notes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I enjoy solving problems, not dealing with you.”

“Ah, but I am the problem,” he said, his grin audible in his voice. “Which means you must enjoy me by association.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “That logic is as flimsy as your excuses when you’re late to meetings.”

“You’re still smiling though,” he pointed out, leaning forward on his elbows. “Careful, [Name]. I might start thinking you like having me around.”

She met his gaze, her expression steady but tinged with amusement. “Don’t push your luck.”

-----

The turning point came during a particularly grueling day when a critical trade envoy threatened to pull out of their agreement. Claude, ever the diplomat, managed to diffuse the situation with his usual charm, but the stress of the encounter lingered as they returned to the war room.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Claude said as [Name] furiously scribbled notes, trying to piece together a contingency plan. “We’ll figure this out, just like we always do.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her focus fixed on the parchment in front of her. Finally, she exhaled, setting the quill down and rubbing her temples. “It’s not just this, Claude. It’s… everything. The stakes, the pressure… Sometimes it feels like no matter what we do, it’s never enough.”

He stood and walked around the table, coming to stand beside her. “Hey,” he said softly, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “You’re not doing this alone. We’re in this together, remember?”

The warmth of his touch startled her, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she glanced up at him, her eyes searching his face. There was no teasing in his expression, no trace of the flippant Claude she had come to know. He looked at her with quiet sincerity, and for the first time, she let herself acknowledge how much his presence grounded her.

“I know,” she said finally, her voice softer than usual. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered for a moment before he stepped back, the spell between them breaking but leaving an unmistakable tension in its wake.

As their plans began to bear fruit, their camaraderie deepened. Moments of levity became more frequent, their laughter filling the once-solemn strategy room. [Name] caught herself looking forward to their late-night sessions, not for the work but for the easy rhythm they had developed. She started noticing little things about him—how he tapped his fingers when he was thinking, how his voice softened when he spoke of his people, how his confidence masked a quiet vulnerability.

Claude, for his part, found himself drawn to [Name]’s steadfast determination, the way her mind worked through problems with precision and creativity. He admired her practicality but found himself captivated by the rare glimpses of warmth she let slip—her laugh, her sharp wit, the way her lips quirked when she was pleased with an idea.

One evening, as they sat side by side reviewing reports, Claude turned to her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “[Name], can I ask you something?”

She glanced at him, surprised by his tone. “Of course.”

“Why do you put up with me?” he asked, a faint smile softening the weight of his question. “You could’ve worked with anyone else in the Alliance, but you chose this.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment before answering. “Because I believe in what we’re doing. And… because you make it easier to believe.”

His smile widened, and for once, he didn’t deflect with a joke. “You’re something else, [Name].”

She felt her cheeks warm and quickly looked back at the reports. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Claude chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Too late. But seriously…” His voice trailed off, softer now, tinged with something unspoken.

[Name] glanced at him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his usual air of confidence wavering for just a moment. “Do you ever think about what you’ll do when all of this is over? When the war is done, the Alliance is safe, and there’s nothing left to fight for?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I… haven’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted. “There’s so much to do now, it feels… impossible to imagine.”

Claude nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. Sometimes it feels that way to me too.” He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, “But I do think about it. What comes next.”

[Name] studied him, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “And? What do you see for yourself?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual grin. It was quieter, more thoughtful. “A place where I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder. Somewhere I can just… be myself. No politics, no schemes, no one trying to use me as a pawn.”

“That sounds…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Nice. Peaceful.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “But getting there… it’s not easy. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll even make it.”

“You will,” she said firmly, surprising even herself with the certainty in her voice. “You’re too stubborn not to.”

His grin returned, softer this time. “Maybe. But it’s not the kind of place you can reach alone.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and [Name] felt her heart skip a beat. “Claude,” she began carefully, “what are you really asking?”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he held her gaze. “If I left—if I found that place I’ve been dreaming about—do you think you’d come with me?”

Her breath caught, the question sending her mind racing. She saw the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, the rare moment when the walls he so carefully maintained had come down. He wasn’t just teasing or playing around—this was real.

“I…” she started, then paused, her voice catching. She looked away, her thoughts a tangle of emotions she hadn’t fully confronted until now. Finally, she met his gaze again, her eyes steady. “I don’t know what the future holds, Claude. But if you found a place like that… I think it would be hard not to follow.”

His expression softened, a warmth spreading across his face that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before. “Good to know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the unspoken understanding between them growing stronger. [Name] felt a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration, the realization of how much he meant to her settling over her like a heavy yet comforting weight.

Claude reached out, his fingers brushing hers where they rested on the table. It was a light touch, fleeting, but it carried more meaning than words ever could.

“I hope you meant what you said before,” he murmured. “You know... me making it easier to believe. In this, in what comes after… in everything.”

[Name]'s chest tightened, and for once, she didn’t deflect or retreat. Instead, she turned her hand slightly, letting her fingertips brush against his.

“I meant it when I said that and...,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I said you’re too stubborn not to make it.”

His grin returned, this time with a hint of relief. “I suppose that's a 'yes' then?.”

She smiled, her heart pounding in a way that felt both terrifying and wonderful. “I suppose so.”

As they sat together in the dimly lit room, the weight of the war and the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them and the quiet promise of something more.

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While he ain't my main, he was my first romance, so this fluff ball has a special place in my heart when it comes to FE3H. Hope you all enjoyed! Next fic will be for Ferdinand and will be slightly darker than my usual fics.