I was very confused by this envelope as I hadn't ordered anything flat.
What. WHAT.
They laminated my yarn.
They LAMINATED MY YARN.
A couple of weeks ago I ordered some knitting needles that came in a ridiculously huge box. Are we rebalancing the universe here? Is that what's happening?
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For a painful soulamte au, what if the Dawn Knight was Lilias soulmate? And to make it more painful what if Dawn knew that Lilia was his soulmate somehow and still went to war with the fae because he couldn't stand to go against the family who raised him
Not a soul knew, except for Leia.
Leia knew because she knew everything about him— the leash of loyalty around his neck, the weight of despair upon his shoulders, the mark of his soulmate tattooed like a harbinger on the inside of his wrist.
Leia knew, and loved him for it all the same.
You are a knight, she would remind him on those moonless nights, delicate features as solemn as a saint as she laid her hands against the haunted hollows of his face, as merciful and sweet as her namesake. You are the only one out of them all who has the right to call himself so. What greater sacrifice have you given to my father, to our family, than the cost of love?
He loved her, too.
Her effortless charm and wit were always happy to fill his awkward and stoic silences, and she never shamed him for his reserved nature. She was a princess, born and raised to be a queen, and it sat right inside his heart that she should realize such a vision. Her kindness to their people, her kindness to her traitor of a knight— too kind, to allow him even into her arms and bed when his nerves fail him and the shadows creep in.
It's what he feels, when he places his hand on the swell of her gown, the gentle life growing inside of her: their child, steeped in kindness.
A tragic beginning that can only lead to a tragic end.
Leia is the only kindness that he's ever known, and the irony is not lost on him that she is not his soulmate, nor is he her own. She does not speak of the mark blurred and faded on her skin, and she does not press him for explanation when he disrobes for her and only her, and the bat in flight unfurls its wings upon his wrist.
She does not need to, for they both know whose standard he bears, whose symbol lays a claim that would spell betrayal and doom for his fate.
He lies there within the shelter of her embrace, her slim fingers weaving through his golden hair, and he wonders what manner of mark lies on the fae general's wrist. He wonders if it is of a gleaming sword raised to strike, or a loathsome owl, talons curled, both prepared to rid the fae of his heart and gift it to the enemy's feet. It must not be obvious, because the fae has never reacted to his presence beyond the expected vitriol to their immoral crusade. And each time that they meet, the gratitude of a coward lances through his veins for the sake of the helmet obscuring his expression— it is your eyes that give you away, Leia had murmured to him, her own dark and forgiving as they glitter in the candlelight. Your truest emotions lie within them, crystal clear and as unclouded as the brightest dawn.
He does not deserve her unshakeable belief, for he feels like the muddiest of waters, choked with debris and tainted by waste.
He does not deserve her, and as he clutches at his wrist in the night, nails all but digging into the taut flesh as if to pull the bat from his skin—
He knows that he does not deserve the general either.
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Valgrace is so Romeo and Juliet coded. Leo (sorta) fakes his death. Jason gives up on life. Leo comes back shortly after he dies.
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Gimmick blog where I just @ summon other blogs and pretend I’m interviewing them or add annotations like I’m a field reporter live at the scene of a news segment.
People can summon me by saying things like “discourse is heating up in the stationary fandom, we take you now live to our @shitpost-field-reporter who is live at the scene of the post” on some post about journal sizing
And then I’ll be like “thanks @willypadilly . As the new year has started, people who are into performative journaling debate the best kind of dot notebook. This year’s surprising new controversy is the shockingly low to complete lack of blood in the page ink in books marketed towards wizards. I’m here with @wizard-shitposter-extraordinaire to talk about this breaking scandal. @wizard-shitposter-extraordinaire, can you tell us how we are just finding out about these deceptively marketed tomes and what the spell crafting community can do about them?”
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Anyone else draw the line between “Cause I make jokes to show how broken I really am” in Ruin and the ‘that’s what she said’ joke in Fair. Because I did. Is he broken by love? Is the love breaking him? Is it just a joke?
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have you ever gotten a silent panic attack (??)- like you know your brain has just shut off and you just stare off at a wall and it's like you forgot how to breathe and your palms are all sweaty but there are no tears and you can't produce any sound???
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Somtimes, you just gotta eat some ass and do some crime
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