#it might be something I think about forever

[checkeredflagggs]

Melting Hearts

pairing: charles leclerc x chocolatier!reader

summary: Ferrari hires a chocolatier to cater for their anniversary celebrations! The chocolate isn’t the only thing to melt

a/n1: Twitter is dead to me. Bluesky forever.

a/n2: all chocolate creations are from the chocolate guy, amaury guichon

a/n3: user 19 and 53 are back 😂

scuderiaferrari

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 2,112,134 others

tagged: yourusername, maison_du_chocolat

scuderiaferrari: We’re excited to announce that yourusername from the maison_du_chocolat has accepted our invitation to our anniversary celebration! We can’t wait to see what she makes for us!

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yourusername: Forza Ferrari Sempre! It was an honor to be chosen and I am excited to have the opportunity to be a part of this monumental event!

↳user1: oh man oh man oh man am I sooooo excited for this!

↳user2: Queen of chocolate!

user3: omg crossover of the century!

↳user4: i literally can’t wait to see what she makes!

↳user3: her creations are INSANE! her imagination…

charles_leclerc: can’t wait! 😊

↳arthur_leclerc: he really really can’t…

↳charles_leclerc: 😑

user5: I haven’t heard of her before but I just looked her up and damn…

↳user6: right?

↳user5: what I wouldn’t give to live in her mind?

↳user7: dude what?

↳user5: not in a creepy way but like how does she even imagine these things??

↳user8: acceptable answer

carlossainz55: Forza Ferrari Sempre! Welcome to the Ferrari family!

↳yourusername: glad to be here!

user9: I just checked her insta and damn…chocolate is not the only thing that’ll be melting

↳user10: keep it classy!

maison_du_chocolat

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, yourbff, and 1,877,455 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari

maison_du_chocolat: it has long been a dream of mine to go to Italy and visit the Ferrari factory! Now to be able to do that by invitation is an honor! Thank you scuderiaferrari

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user11: amazing!

user12: oh I can’t wait!

user13: cars? I have to care about cars now??

↳user14: I kkkknnnnoooooowww. Like mother why?

↳user13: vroom vroom I guess

charles_leclerc: it's our pleasure to have you!

↳user19: 👀👀

↳maison_du_chocolat: thank you! 😊

↳user19: 👀👀

↳user53: seriously? What now

↳user19: nothing nothing nothing

carlossainz55: again! Welcome to the family!

↳maison_du_chocolat: love to be here

yourbff: I expect all the details stat

↳yourusername: literally on my way to you right now

↳yourbff: with all the juicy details?

↳yourusername: with something certainly

user15: love that jacket!

↳maison_du_chocolat: gotta represent when I’m creating!

↳user15: it’s a chef’s jacket???

↳maison_du_chocolat: yup!

↳user15: oh my god 🥺🥺

Bluesky

maison_du_chocolat

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, user, and 1,828,828 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari

maison_du_chocolat: a little sneak peak of what’s coming!

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user16: the anticipation is gonna actually kill me i think

↳user17: extreme but understandable

user18: car? Horse? 3D model of the Ferrari logo?

↳user17: an actual life size f1 car that runs

↳user18: tbh it might actually be faster then what we’ve been given this year…

↳user17: removing the floor and letting Carlos and Charles run the race is faster then this tractor…

↳user18: you’re not wrong

scuderiaferrari: we’re eagerly awaiting the results!

↳maison_du_chocolat: cool cool cool cool. No doubt no doubt, no pressure no pressure

↳scuderiaferrari: you’ve got this!

↳maison_du_chocolat: admin why would you stress me out like this…

↳scuderiaferrari: from the bottom of my heart, my bad

user20: less than 1 week left!

↳user21: I know! I’ve been counting down the days

↳user22: me too!

charles_leclerc: any hints for your favorite driver?

↳maison_du_chocolat: sorry but Sebastian isn’t racing anymore…

↳charles_leclerc: 🥺😢

↳user19: 🧐🧐

↳user53: ok grandma let’s get you back to bed

↳user19: you just wait…you’ll see…

↳user53: see what you crazy bat???

scuderiaferrari

liked by maison_du_chocolat, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 2,276,511 others

Transcript:

First frame: “And for our last topic,y/n from the La Maison Du Chocolat…”

Second Frame: “Carlos: hahahaha, Charles: Oh noooo……, Carlos: yes let’s talk about y/n”

Third Frame: “Oh? Are you guys excited for the exhibit?”

Last Frame: “Carlos: Charles definitely is!, Charles: She is very talented!, Carlos: Not what I meant”

tagged: yourusername, maison_du_chocolat

scuderiaferrari: we talk cars, collections, and chocolate!

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user23: awwww Charles is blushing ☺️☺️☺️

maxverstappen1: 😹

↳carlossainz55: it’s even worse than you think

↳maxverstappen1: how??

↳carlossainz55: they cut a LOT of footage

↳maxverstappen1: oh my god 😹

↳charles_leclerc: it was not THAT bad

↳carlossainz55: it was

user24: the challenge is don’t talk about your crush! Charles fails instantly

↳user25: no but for real he’s so in love??? He’s just heart eyes and blushing face the entire video

↳user25: and THEY TAGGED her too! scuderiaferrari sees the vision as well

↳user24: I’m confused on how they have EVEN MORE footage?? Like it’s already 30 minutes of him yapping about yourusername…

↳user25: I NEED them to release the uncut version! scuderiaferrari! Please we’ve never asked for anything

↳scuderiaferrari: 👀👀

↳charles_leclerc: no.

↳scuderiaferrari: 🫣 sorry 😞

user19: y’all aren’t ready for what i have to say

↳user53: I’m tired of this grandpa

↳user19: that’s too damn bad! They’re dating!

↳user53: seriously? Oh my god…

↳user19: just wait and see user53. Just wait and see

Private Messages

Bluesky

user26: oh my god

↳user27: are you thinking what I’m thinking?

↳user26: Charles Leclerc and y/n?

↳user27: yes!!

user28: that crazy bitch has done it again

↳user53: you better not be talking about user19 with that tone?

↳user28: that crazy bitch (respectfully) has done it again ??

↳user53: acceptable (barely)

user19: WHAT DID I SAY? I TOLD YOU

↳user53: this is not PROOF. It is gossip!

↳user19: I've been sayin' it. I've been sayin' it for ten damn years. Ain't I been sayin' it?

↳user53: do you ever run out of movie quotes?

↳user19: nope! CAUSE I WAS RIGHT!!

↳user53: 🙄😂☺️

Private Messages

maison_du_chocolat

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, and 3,127,225 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

maison_du_chocolat: here we are! And away we go!

Thank you scuderiaferrari for this wonderful opportunity! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are!

This was a chance of a lifetime and there’s no words I can write that will fully capture how much this means to me so I’ll simply say thank you again! Forza Ferrari Sempre!

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scuderiaferrari: 😳😳😳

↳scuderiaferrari: THESE ARE WONDERFUL!

↳scuderiaferrari: The perfect way to celebrate!

↳scuderiaferrari: Forza Ferrari Sempre!

user29: the classic car and the new one side by side?? 👌👌

user30: the fomo I have…

↳user31: good god same. I wish I could have been there to see them in person…

charles_leclerc: magnifique!!

↳maison_du_chocolat: thank you! And thank you again for showing me your car — I definitely needed the close up reference

↳user19: !!!!

↳user32: on their thread??

↳user53: not the time user19

↳user19: but!

↳user53: no

carlossainz55: these are amazing! Such artistry!

↳maison_du_chocolat: stoopppp. I’m blushing!

↳carlossainz55: 😉😉

↳charles_leclerc: 🤨🤨

↳carlossainz55: 🤣

user33: the presentation of this was wonderful as well

↳user34: almost better than the actual life size chocolate cars if I’m being honest

↳user35: ok I don’t know if I’d go that far…

↳user34: there was fireworks…

↳user35: yeah ok

Bluesky

user36: starting a countdown…

↳user37: to what?

↳user36: just wait

user38: god when will it be my turn???

user39: they look so cute!

↳user40: you can’t see their faces?

↳user39: but they look so comfy together? Like even out in public, they’re leaning up against one another — that’s cute and lovely!

↳user40: …we need to get you a date

user19: !!!!

↳user36: this user37

↳user37: what?

↳user53: yes yes yes you’re probably gonna be right. Let’s not rub it in everyone’s face

↳user19: you never let me have any fun

↳user53: we still don’t know for certain that it’s y/n!

↳user19: it will be!

user41: I’ve never felt more single then these 2!! photos have made me feel

↳user42: same

↳user43: same

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 1,213,455 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happy 2 years mon amour — they’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been.

Thank you for teaching me to bake Christmas cookies (and for the special love potion — although you certainly don’t need to give me one!)

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user44: oh my god! 2 years???

user46: how on earth did they keep it a secret for so long??

yourusername: Mon soleil…I thought you wanted to keep this a secret?

↳charles_leclerc: oops ☺️☺️☺️

↳charles_leclerc: not anymore!

↳charles_leclerc: I need everyone to know you’re mine

↳yourusername: Mon soleil…

↳charles_leclerc: ehehehehe 😊😊😊

user48: Mon soleil…she calls him her sunshine…

↳yourusername: he lights up my life!

↳user48: my heart…I can’t go on…

↳yourusername: oops??

maxverstappen1: finally

↳charles_leclerc: what?

↳maxverstappen1: you can now yap to everyone else about her

↳maxverstappen1: stop bothering me

↳charles_leclerc: when have i ever?

↳carlossainz55: you think you have it bad?? And charles_leclerc the entire flight to Miami

↳maxverstappen1: and Brazil

↳oscarpiastri: and to Australia

↳logansargeant: the entire driver’s parade in Monday?

↳alex_albon: and in spa?

↳landonorris: to and from silverstone?

↳charles_leclerc: let a romantic live will you?

↳yourusername: awww soleil you talk about me?

↳carlossainz55: yes

↳maxverstappen1: more words than I’ve ever spoken

↳oscarpiastri: nonstop

↳logansargeant: never ending

↳alex_albon: yes

↳landonorris: yes

↳charles_leclerc: yes 🥰

[luveline]

missing spencer x stripper reader these days

—Spencer visits the strip club unannounced. fem, 1.1k

Spencer can’t be clinical about it forever. You’re a sex worker. He doesn’t care, but he can’t ignore it when you look like that. 

You’re standing by the bar slouched backward, your abdomen bent forward, an unsexy position if you were to ask a patron, but weirdly endearing from where Spencer’s standing. Your heels are completely clear. He can see your toes, their painted nails, and the bandaid on the back of your foot where you twist. “Can I have another water, please?” you ask. 

The lingerie is blue. Spencer loves blue. Three pieces, a bra, underwear, and a suspender belt holding stockings the colour of your skin. He knows this is just work, that he’s not being a good friend thinking about how pretty you really look, but it’s not just pretty. His ears start burning the longer he sees it. You shift your weight from one foot to another and your thighs looks soft. 

You take your new glass of water and press yourself flush to the wall. Then you level your gaze and see Spencer watching you, expression jumping from happy to confused to knowing. 

“Hey, Spencer,” you call, hard to hear over the music pounding and the sound of men jeering at to the left near the big stage. “Are you here to see me, or is it a pleasure trip?” 

He clears his throat as discreetly as possible and makes his way to you. The heels make you taller, your legs longer, and the lingerie reveals simple things he doesn’t often think about, the shapes of your breasts, the curve of your sides, your hips leading down… Oh, god, he thinks, feeling sorrier than sorry. 

“You okay?” 

“I came to ask you that.” 

You frown, perturbed. “Why?” 

“You didn’t answer your phone. I just wanted to make sure everyone was still being nice to you.” 

Your frown softens but doesn’t fade. “It’s broken.”

See, he’d believe you, but you used to wear this Tiffany necklace with a soft bevelled heart around your neck until recently, when you told Spencer you lost it, and showed him your second tell. When you’re in pain, your hands tend to strain from you, pushed out and fingers curling. When you lie, you smile too soon, and your eyes catch on the freckles on his nose. 

He pulls open his messenger back and sorts through papers for the black and silver mobile. It’s his emergency phone; should something ever happen to the first, he still wants to be able to contact the outside world. “Here,” he says, offering it to you. 

You’re still. “I can’t take your phone.” 

“It’s a spare. A burner phone? I bought it for emergencies, and this could be one.” 

“Spencer, I can’t…” 

“Please, will you? I’ll get another one.” 

You need a phone. Maybe ten years ago you could get by without one, but you need a phone to arrange bills, talk to your landlord, your boss, your doctor, whatever. Being without one in an emergency could mean bad things. 

You take it, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not very fast,” he says. “There’s a prepaid sim in there for now, but I can get you a real one.” 

“I can do that. Thank you, Spencer. I’ll pay you back.” 

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” he says with a real smile. 

“I could pay you back… with a dance?” You lean across to tap his elbow. “I saw you looking at me, Spencer Reid. We can go somewhere private.” 

Suddenly, it’s like the air in the room is being sucked out, leaving him, and you, and your beautiful bare skin alone in a tight space. 

He raises the arm you’ve tapped to tap you back. “You’re beautiful,” he says, sure you can see the blood in his cheeks, “but I don’t need anything from you. I want you to have the phone because I know you walk home by yourself most nights, it’s not so you owe me. You don’t owe me anything.” 

He shouldn’t have added that last part. He’s worried you’ll be angry with him for saying something that might embarrass you, but you give him a softer smile. Real, and nothing like the playful fire you’d held when you were offering a dance. “You sure?” you ask quietly. 

“I thought we were friends?” 

“I think so too.” 

“Can I ask you something unrelated?” 

You squint with mock suspicion. “That depends.” 

“Are you cold?” 

You laugh, grabbing his arm as you do to steady yourself on your precarious footwear. “I’m surprised I haven’t got hypothermia,” you say, face tipping gently to your shoulder. “But I don’t think I’d make any money in a hoodie.” 

Spencer doesn’t see how that could be true. You're one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen, if not the prettiest, and even if you were in a hoodie that would still leave your legs to make money. He’s sure they could. He’s also sure that he shouldn’t say that aloud, instead digging through his bag for the real thing he’d brought you. “Here,” he says, handing you a chocolate chip and strawberry protein bar, “for your rumbling stomach.” 

Those few nights you’d stayed with him, you’d been a little shy and more afraid, probably worried he’d hurt you while you were vulnerable, though he had no intention, but you’d start to let pieces of you through the cracks. You like dancing but not men. You like fresh fruit, the smell of a new car, and buying new clothes. Stripping isn’t, like, easy, you’d said once, sitting cross-legged on his couch with a bowl of soup and that awful shiner, It probably looks easy. People think that the hardest part is being pretty, but it’s not. 

What’s the hardest part? he’d asked, sympathetic and curious simultaneously. The hardest part statistically would be the high rates of femicide and assault. 

It makes you so hungry. It’s like constantly working out every night.

“That’s for me?” you ask. 

“So you can survive your workout.” 

“Spencer, I think you’re the most romantic guy I’ve ever met.” 

He presses the protein bar in the same hand as the phone, ducking his head just a bit, just to see you clearly. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” 

You seem to think this is the funniest thing he could’ve said, pressing your face briefly, heart-achingly to his shoulder, before pulling away to beam at him. “Don’t be sorry. You’re the best guy ever. And I had this investment banker come in a few days ago who gave me a hundred dollars to listen to him talk about his new kitten.” 

“I’m surprised I beat that.” 

You spread a hand over his heart. “I wouldn’t worry about competition, Dr. Reid.” 

[southbynorth994]

I had no idea how my life was about to change when I asked that girl out on a simple date. Her name was Isabella. I had seen her around town, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall down her back, and her eyes—her eyes were a perfect shade of deep brown, mysterious yet warm, like a rich cup of coffee. She seemed different from the usual crowd, more reserved, but her smile could light up a room.

When she said yes to my invitation to dinner, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. We chose a quiet, cozy Italian restaurant on the edge of town, away from the hustle and bustle. It was the kind of place that felt like a hidden gem, with candlelight flickering on every table and a soft hum of Italian opera in the background. We talked for hours. She was charming, funny, and intelligent, and I was captivated by every word she said. She seemed so ordinary, in the best way possible, and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that I might have just met someone truly special.

As the evening came to an end, I walked her to her car, a sleek black Audi. She thanked me for the night, her eyes sparkling, and I felt like the world was at my feet. I promised to call her again, to arrange another date soon, and she smiled, nodding in agreement.

But that’s when things took a strange turn.

The next morning, I was at work when I got a phone call from an unknown number. I almost didn’t pick up, but something told me to answer.

“Is this Brian Holden?” a low, gravelly voice asked.

“Yeah, who is this?”

“My name is Vito. Vito Romano. We need to talk.”

I froze. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Romano. That was the name of one of the most dangerous mafia families in the city. I had heard whispers about them. Stories of violence, power, and influence. And Vito Romano? He was the patriarch—the boss.

“I… I don’t understand,” I stammered. “What do you want from me?”

“I think you know,” Vito said, his voice calm but chilling. “You took my daughter out last night.”

I felt my blood run cold. My stomach dropped. Isabella was his daughter? The girl I had taken on a date?

“I didn’t know,” I said quickly, trying to explain myself. “I swear, I didn’t know. I thought she was just a normal—”

“I don’t care what you thought,” Vito interrupted. “What matters now is how you handle this situation. My daughter was not just any girl, and you will treat her with respect, or there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes… yes, I understand,” I stammered.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Vito spoke again.

“I’ll be at your place in an hour. Be ready to speak to me.”

I hung up the phone, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe it. I had just accidentally asked the mafia boss’s daughter on a date. What had I gotten myself into?

An hour later, a black SUV pulled up outside my apartment. My doorbell rang, and I opened it to find two imposing men in dark suits standing on my doorstep. One of them was holding a leather briefcase, the other had a scowl on his face. Behind them, I saw Vito himself, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a presence that made everything around him feel small.

“Brian Holden?” he asked, his voice calm but intimidating.

“Y-yes,” I replied.

“Come with me,” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started walking toward the car. The two men followed, and I had no choice but to follow as well.

We drove for what felt like forever, the tension in the car suffocating. When we arrived at a large, gated mansion, I felt like I had entered another world. Vito led me inside, his presence commanding every inch of the grand house. We sat down in a lavishly decorated room, and Vito motioned for me to take a seat.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, taking my daughter out without knowing who she is,” Vito said, his tone softening just slightly. “But I can see that you’re not the type of man who would intentionally disrespect the Romano family.”

I swallowed hard, still in disbelief.

“I… I had no idea. I swear. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Vito studied me for a long moment before nodding. “I believe you. Isabella speaks highly of you. And in this family, that counts for something.”

I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

“So, what happens now?” I asked cautiously.

Vito smiled—a rare, approving smile. “You’ll be a part of the family, Brian. You have my blessing. But remember this: we look out for our own, and you’ll do the same. Understood?”

I nodded, my mouth dry. “Understood.”

And just like that, I found myself welcomed into the heart of the mafia—a place I never imagined I’d be, all because of a simple date with a beautiful girl.

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

[megaderping]

I feel like when people emphasize Akechi's murders, they often act like his motivation only boils down to "daddy issues" or they really make light of the impacts societal discrimination can have on a person. "But Futaba didn't end up like Akechi," I've seen people say, but the thing is, Akechi is meant to show the worst case scenario. Someone without anyone left to uplift him, to ground him, and to give him a reason to be better. Futaba had Sojiro, though that hardly justifies her mother's death, nor the horrible mistreatment from her relatives or what Shido put her through by framing Wakaba's death as a suicide. Futaba was in a very dark place, and she needed a helping hand. The Phantom Thieves saved her. But Akechi didn't have that helping hand when he needed it most. He lost his mother at a very young age, endured the foster system, never finding a new forever home, and at his absolute lowest point, was granted power he didn't understand with no one to guide him, and wanted to get close to Shido to one day backstab him and give him a taste of his own medicine. The murders came later, when Shido "instructed him." And given the way Shido yells at Akechi about what happens to people who cross him, and given what he did to Futaba (the men in suits), his cleaner, and how many people he had on his side, on top of Sojiro making it very clear how cutthroat Shido was to his enemies... Akechi was screwed no matter what. His face, his name, all of it could be used to ruin him in the real world. Alone, he would not have been enough to go through Shido's Palace, given how much trouble the Phantom Thieves had as a group. Plus, y'know, this:

Something so many people ignore when they talk about Akechi and his murders and ignore everything else the narrative tries to say about him.

What P5 tries to say about Akechi is so important to its core themes. That, if Akechi hadn't been a victim of so much injustice, he might have never gone to such lengths. That doesn't undo the damage he's done, but it's so important to understanding why the game approaches him with sympathy rather than writing him off as pure evil. Because it didn't have to be this way. If he had just met Joker sooner, if he had just had somebody. Akechi represents what can happen to vulnerable children who are failed by systems meant to uphold justice and other ideals, and how those who have nothing, who have only ever been hurt, are far more likely to lash out in turn. Persona 5 places so much importance on the suffering of children and the ways society needs to improve for the sake of children. That, I think, is one of the key reasons Akechi is framed as a victim. He is a warning, a cry to do better.

[hrrtshape]

THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU'RE DOUBTING SHIFTING a.k.a DIVING INTO THE CONCEPT OF THE SOUL ✶

the idea of souls is the most beautiful, most romantic thing ever. because...who are we really? we’re not just flesh and bone, ticking along. we’re something more.

your soul is the eternal essence of you—your consciousness, your thoughts, your love, your dreams. it’s the part of you that has existed forever and will continue long after this one human life is done. the body? a temporary rental. the soul? that's the real home.

imagine this: your soul is like a little spark of the universe, a fragment of the stars, wandering through realities to experience everything it can. each life, each timeline, each moment is like flipping to a new page in a book. it’s all about the story, and the story is infinite.

𖥻  THE ETERNAL YOU. who you are right now? that’s just one chapter. your soul has seen other worlds, other lives, other possibilities. every little thing you feel, the deja vu, the dreams that feel too real, the magnetic pull toward certain initiatives, periods of time, objects—that’s your soul saying, “hey, remember when we were here before ?”

𖥻  SOULS DON’T AGE. that’s the gag. you might be whatever age you are right now here and now, but your soul? it's ancient. timeless. wise beyond the stars. think about how you sometimes just know things, or you feel a deep connection to places, people, or ideas. that’s your soul’s memory peeking through.

𖥻  THE COSMIC GAME. your soul came here to play. to love, cry, mess up, and learn. it’s all about experience—because even the messy parts, the heartbreak and chaos? they add flavour to the story. your soul isn’t scared of pain; it’s curious. it’s here to gather every emotion, every shade of existence.

𖥻  SOUL CONNECTIONS. you know those people you meet and immediately click with, like you’ve known them forever? or the places that feel like home even if you’ve never been there? that’s soul recognition. your soul is like, “hey, I know you ! we’ve danced this dance before.” example of this in my life is the fact that i genuinely believe i'm connected with the city of paris—i can't begin to describe the depression i have whenever i leave it or the ecstasy that runs through my brain every second i'm there. coincidence`? i think not.

𖥻  THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR CANVAS. your soul doesn’t just exist in this one little reality. oh no. it's out there painting across dimensions, skipping through timelines, creating infinite versions of itself. and every version? it’s still YOU. all of them are threads in the tapestry of your existence.

𖥻  SOULS ARE STARDUST. LITERALLY. you’re made of the same stuff as the stars. so, if you’ve ever stared at the night sky and felt small, flip that thought. you’re not small—you’re connected. you’re the universe looking back at itself. you’re a whole galaxy in human form.

𖥻  LOVE IS THE LANGUAGE OF SOULS. not just romantic love (though, yes, swoon), but the love you feel for life, art, music, laughter, sunsets, the way your favourite book smells. that’s your soul’s way of speaking. every time you feel love, you’re feeding your soul.

𖥻  DEATH ISN’T THE END. it’s just the soul saying, “okay, cool chapter. time for the next one.” it’s moving forward, exploring, learning, always expanding. the end of this life is just the beginning of another adventure.

𖥻  YOU’RE NOT YOUR BODY. your body is stunning and unique and so, so special. but it’s not YOU. the real you is the consciousness inside, the little light piloting this human-shaped vessel. your soul chose this body, this life, this moment for a reason.

𖥻  EVERYTHING IS VIBRATION. your soul is energy. and energy? it doesn’t die. it flows, shifts, and transforms. when you feel aligned, like you’re glowing or vibrating with joy—that’s your soul saying, “YES, this is it, this is what i’m here for.”

so when you feel stuck or small, remember this: you are a spark of eternity wrapped up in human skin. you are light, love, and infinite potential. your soul is dancing through this reality, and every breath, every moment is a gift it chose to experience.

you’re a freaking miracle. and everything is truly possible.

[quarterlifekitty]

When I saw the Weaknesses blurb I was going to ask if you'd care to expand on König and his clingy s.o. THEN I SAW THAT YOU DID AND SCRUMPT A SCREAM. I love clingy headconnons. Purely because I'm clingy in a cat like manner (aka annoying) and extremely emotionally needy. Imagine König sitting on the couch texting Horangi while his s.o. has their head in his lap. He hasn't looked down in almost a minute so she reaches up and knocks the phone out of his hands. Does she have something to say? No. But his attention was needed. Or König is making breakfast and his s.o. comes up to him half asleep, hugs him from behind, bites his shoulder blade hard enough for him to roll the muscle to get her to release him, then she rests her head on his back and goes to sleep. Now his movements are limited because he might accidentally knock her off his back. (I just swoon over someone accepting the annoying and goofy parts of their partner.)

Keep scrumpting babygirl 😈

König just looooves how much attention you demand. He loves it when you hide things that keep him away from you…. He just thinks it’s too cute for words. Before you lived together, you’d wake up first and put on his shirt and boxers so he wouldn’t have enough clothing to leave. He likes it when you pull his phone from his hands (he lets it go easily, he could keep it from you if he wanted). And when you lean really far and put it on the far corner of the coffee table, as if he couldn’t just get up and get it.

And you’re not above kicking his shoes under the couch so it takes a few extra minutes before he can leave for work.

Whenever he’s doing something and you just come in and park yourself by or on him, without saying a word, like it’s the most natural thing in the world— he feels so painfully domestic. It makes him wanna keep you forever. When you play with his hands he wonders about your ring size.

But maybe his favorite thing is favorite thing is when you wake him up in the middle of the night, needy. He’ll always ask what’s the matter, lammchen? In that smug, slightly groggy voice, but he knows why you’re waking him up, grinding on him and whining.

And my god. When he wakes up in the morning with you practically on top of him. When you stretch and moan and blink awake slowly, looking at him so you can say “I missed you”. The idea that you miss him not just when he’s out of the house, not just when he’s in another room, but when he’s asleep. That’s how you guarantee that you get fucked in the morning.

[journalofimprobablethings]

I think the thing about your first response that is provoking knee-jerk reactions (at least, it did for me) is that it implies that character death's only purpose in fiction is to "maximize pain" for the readers, and that any other purpose it might serve can be found through other means. And I don't think that's true at all.

To a certain extent I agree with the OP commenter that it's not necessary to kill a character simply for 'emotional impact' or 'realism'. If an author's main goal with a character death is just to "inflict maximum pain" on the reader, then that's probably not very good writing, and not "necessary". The death needs to do more than just hurt the reader; it should affect the story in some way, either in how other characters react to the death, or how events change because of it.

But I also agree with friskdaferret's argument that some character deaths are necessary for the story that the author is trying to tell. That's the key. Could they choose to write it a different way? Sure. They're the author, it's their story, it's all made up. But then it would be a different story.

I know that you consider the Holes argument to be a bit of a tangent, but for the sake of using an example that's already been brought up, Sam's death in Holes serves a particular purpose in the story. It reflects real-world racism in a very direct way: black men being lynched for having a relationship with a white woman (or after being accused of assaulting/touching a white woman, whether they did or not) is a real fact of American history. It's an ugly fact, and it's something that Louis Sacher decided was important to include in the story. For some kids reading that book, it may even have been their first exposure to that sort of racism. Having Sam leave Kate for other reasons, as you suggest, would change the story, and would make a different point. It's not the story Louis Sacher was trying to tell.

Your argument, if I understand correctly, is that sometimes, the potential pain inflicted on a reader who is very attached to the character might outweigh an author wanting to make a particular point or tell a particular story. How then, do we handle telling stories that are inherently about painful topics? What is the "utilitarian calculus" as it relates to a story like Orpheus and Eurydice which is about grief; or tragedies like Hamlet?

I also think that if you're going to make that argument, you have to consider the other side - that is, what benefit do those deaths, as written, bring to readers? Why has the author included it in the story? What do people get out of it? That answer is going to be different for different readers and stories, but there is a reason that death has been such a prominent trope in human storytelling since forever. Death and grief are inherent, immutable facts of life, and so storytellers are going to find ways to engage with and examine it.

Two examples that came to mind while I was thinking about this post were The Fault in Our Stars by John Green and Babel by R.F. Kuang. Both of those books contain absolutely devastating moments of loss in connection with characters we have become very close to as readers. I don't think I've ever cried as hard at a story as I cried at those two books in particular.

Both of those stories would not be what they are, or say what they wanted to say, if those deaths didn't happen. They are a book about cancer and a book about imperialism and the violence it engenders, respectively. Both those topics are impossible to handle without at least talking about death.

Now, would I give people a warning before I recommend those books to them? Absolutely, because it's the sort of thing you probably want to be in the right headspace for. But do I think that those books should have been written differently, just because the stories were painful? Absolutely not.

I don't know that I agree with any sort of utilitarian argument about the potential effect of a character death on readers vs its function in the story, in part because that sort of thing is impossible to quantify. How would you ever possibly judge what was "too much"? It's entirely subjective, and in the end, authors do not have control over what a reader's reactions to their story will be.

I also think that to a certain extent, readers are responsible for their own reading experience. If a person does not want to encounter painful moments in their reading, that is their responsibility to tailor their reading accordingly. If they as a reader know they are prone to making deep connections with characters such that it might genuinely hurt them if that character then dies, they can take steps to avoid those sorts of stories, or to use sites like doesthedogdie.com to check whether a story has something that they don't want to/can't engage with. But it's not an author's responsibility to tailor their story so that it doesn't make anyone sad. That's not the point of fiction.

Fiction is a reflection of life, and a way for us as humans to examine and process all aspects of it, including the aspects that hurt, that are awful, the parts that don't make sense. It's perfectly valid for someone to not want to engage with challenging fiction, but to say that authors shouldn't be writing it at all because it might somewhere cause someone grief? I can't agree with that.

im starting to think you guys dont like it when stories make you feel things

[lovedrruunk]

'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part i]

After choosing to break the cycle, Jinx [now Powder] tries to find her place in a small town away from everything she once knew, drawn to someone who seems to embody everything she's wanted but never deserved. w.c 1.4k

The cottage was quiet, almost too quiet. She had chosen this place for that very reason after all. It was far from everything she used to know. Far from people who might recognize her, far from her past, and most importantly, far from the chaos she had attracted her whole life.

And yet, the quiet unsettled her.

Her days were simple now. Fixing up the cottage, teaching herself how to cook, tending to the purple and orange flowers she had no idea how to take care of. Simple things.

She only went into town when absolutely necessary, and even then, she kept her head down and her interactions short. People didn’t pry, but she saw the curiosity in their eyes. They looked at her like she was out of place, as if she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

Except for you. You were different. Powder had noticed that right away.

The first time she saw you, she thought she was just seeing things.

You were at the edge of the farmer’s market, the sun shining down on you, your head tilted back, shoulders shaking as you laughed, your body so... unguarded. As if you weren't constantly looking over your shoulder waiting for something bad to happen. And for a moment, Powder forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t just the sound of your laughter or the warmth in your eyes when you spoke to someone who passed by. You had this way of moving like you belonged there, like you were part of the town in a way she couldn’t imagine ever being.

She’d only meant to grab a few supplies, slip in and out before anyone could try to talk to her. But then there you were, and she couldn’t look away.

She didn’t approach you. Told herself it was because she didn’t want to stand out, didn't want to risk anyone noticing her more than they already had. But deep down, she knew the truth. You made her feel small. The type of small you feel when you're around someone you look up to. A person who represents everything you want to be, someone you want to keep in your life forever. She couldn't just walk up to you so casually, not when you reminded her of everything she wasn't.

And yet she couldn't keep her distance. Because even though you left her feeling small, you also made her want to be something more. You made her hopeful. A feeling that had been so rare to come by nowadays. That maybe, just maybe one day she’d be as content as you were in this small warm town.

She wanted to know what it was like to feel so at ease, to be... satisfied. Not perfect, not terrible, but enough. And when she saw you, she saw how.

She started seeing you more often after that. Helping at the market, skipping down the dirt paths, stopping to pet the stray cats that wandered by, you took your time with everything you did, like there was no rush, like you had all the time in the world. It wasn’t long before she found herself looking for you whenever she came into town.

You were always smiling, always patient with everyone you spoke to. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what being at peace looked like.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. About the way you seemed to fit so perfectly. It made her heart ache, this longing for something she wasn’t even sure she could have.

Sometimes, she’d catch herself lingering for too long, staring as you handed out fresh flowers to some kids or waved goodbye to one of the older shopkeepers. She’d duck her head, hoping you hadn’t noticed, but part of her wished you would.

Late at night when her little cottage was quiet and cold, she’d let her mind wander. She’d imagine herself laughing like you did, walking through the town with that same easy confidence. She’d picture you waving to her. Not out of politeness, but because you knew her. Because she was someone worth knowing, someone you wanted around.

It was a stupid thought. She knew that much. Someone like you, so open and kind didn’t belong anywhere near someone like her. But the thought still lingered, no matter how much she tried to push it away.

But for now, she stayed at a distance, quietly admiring you from afar. Wondering if one day she’d have the courage to find her own place in this town, preferably next to you.

Today, you were at the bakery, carrying a piece of warm bread to the counter. Powder stood just outside the window, watching as you handed a loaf to the shop owner with that signature smile that never seemed forced. Your hair caught the sunset through the glass, and her heart did this stupid little flip that she hated and loved at the same time.

You were everything. Bright, grounded, kind in a way that felt genuine. It was the way people lit up around you, how even the grumpiest of the townsfolk seemed to soften in your presence. Powder found herself wanting to be one of them.

But not today. Today was coming to an end. So as she watched you place your bread in your basket, she took one last glance at your face before turning on her heel, heading home.

At night, when the world was still, she tried to ignore how much of her thoughts were filled with you. She told herself it didn’t matter, that this small admiration was harmless.

But as the days passed, it grew harder to ignore. Harder to convince herself that watching from afar was enough.

. . .

You were standing near the fountain in the town square, chatting with a small group of neighbors. The market stalls around you were loud, filled with laughter and conversation. Powder stood by one of the lamp posts, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her worn jacket, and her eyes glued to you.

You were smiling, of course, your face lit up with that same warmth that made her heart skip a beat. It was such a simple scene, one she had seen countless of times before. And yet, today, it felt different.

Her eyes darted to the little group you were standing with, chatting like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way you tilted your head, listening to some old guy ramble about whatever. So patient, so... nice. Powder’s chest clenched, hard.

She shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t her place. It was yours, with your calm smiles and easy conversations. Meanwhile, her hands were shaking just thinking about standing that close. People like her didn’t fit in with people like you. She was jagged edges and scrambled thoughts, and you were everything smooth and steady.

But still, her feet wouldn’t move. Not backward, not forward. Just... stuck, staring at the way you chuckled when one of the neighbors cracked some lame joke. She hated how much she wanted to be part of it, part of you.

The thought made her stomach flip in the worst way. She didn’t deserve that kind of peace, not after everything she’d done. Not after all the ways she’d ruined things.

But then you laughed again, and it hit her like a punch to the face. That sound, that easy, genuine laughter, it made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could want something good for herself. Even if she didn’t deserve it. She wanted it more than anything.

She let out a shaky breath, every part of her screaming to go home and hide. She almost did. But then she looked up, and there you were, smiling, like the world wasn’t a mess. Like things could be easy if you let them.

Her feet began to move before she could stop them.

The crowd didn’t even notice her no whispers, no stares, just the usual hum of the town square. She kept walking, her heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

And suddenly, she was right there. Close enough to smell your perfume, closer than she had ever been.

You turned your head towards her, mid-laugh.

She should’ve ran. She should’ve stayed away, kept pretending this wasn’t something she wanted.

But she didn’t.

Her voice was quiet, shaky, but it was hers.

“Hey.”

You blinked, surprised but not unkind, and Powder swore she saw your smile widen ever so slightly.

It wasn’t much. But it was the first step.

. . .

I LOVE SELF-DEPRICATING JINX!!!!! i literally cannot stop writing her like this goly... anyways i loved this idea sm (and am so proud of myself for it like wow im just so smart and amazing) SO I RLLY WANNA WRITE A PART 2 FROM READERS POV WHERE THEY TALK MORE ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

also lowkey obsessed with the idea of obsessive stalker jinx but like this is supposed to be fluff so maybe ill write something like that another time...

thanks 4 reading as always!!! XOXOXOXOXO

[liahaslosthermind]

~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭~ Part 3

Part 3 of The Spy Master's Secret Find more ACOTAR works here! Summary: The Inner Circle meets the most important person in Azriel's life. Warnings: Lia rewrites what the Carranam bond is to fit her own fantasy, (Mention of) Bad injuries and domestic abuse, (Mention of) Azriel's dad 🤢, Inner Circle loves to STAY in Azriel's business, I actually write Rhys as not an asshole in this one

“My Carranam.” The Spy Master replied.

No one was given time to think, much less respond, before Azriel had commanded everyone to leave the room. They would have been more reluctant to do so, the desire to know what the hell he meant was painful, had the serious look on the strange female’s face, and the look of despair on Azriel’s, had given them the impression this conversation was better left between the two. 

Out in the hallway, Cassian finally voiced his concern, 

“Should we have left him alone with whoever that was? He isn’t in any state to be fighting back should he ne-”

Amren scoffed at the question. “I’d trust her with him far more than you all.”

 “What do you mean? Do you know her?” Elain asked.

“No, but he is her Carranam. You all might not know the significance of such a bond- I don’t even know much about it myself, but I know enough to believe there is no one who would protect and cherish him more.” There was a sort of amazement and respect in Amren’s eyes that told the rest of them that she was right. Gave them enough information to walk away from the bedroom, content on letting Azriel come to them when he was ready.

—

The Inner Circle was no longer content waiting for their Spy Master to make an appearance. All had been sitting at the dining table for what must have been millenia, plates full with no appetite as millions of questions swarmed their heads. Amren had seemingly been the only one to have any idea what any of this could have meant, but the second she got the chance, she disappeared so she wouldn’t be bothered with questions about something that had nothing to do with her. 

Finally, Nesta broke the silence.

“Do you think he is purposefully trying to torture us by taking forever?” She asked, eyeing the very apparent shadows in the corner that had been slithering to and from the room since they had all sat down. “Or do you think she is-”

“It would be my fault Azriel was occupied for a bit.” The strange fae announced as she entered the room, Azriel by her side with a slight limp. The two looked… strange together, but also so right. White feathered wings stood tall behind the female, nicely contrasting Azriel’s leathery Illyrian ones. Where he was crowned in darkness and shadows, she seemed to have bathed in light. It should have contrasted each other terribly, but their stark differences only seemed to compliment the other.

It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how their friend looked thousands of times better than he did just hours earlier.

He was still clearly injured, but far from the edge of death he teetered on these past few days.

“How? Madja could only do so much for him.” Rhysand asked, astonished at how well his brother looked.

She helped him into his seat before taking the empty one next to him. Even as they got comfortable, her hand never left his arm, finding comfort in his touch after days of agony and helplessness.

“Junia is a healer. The best Dawn has to offer.” Azriel said, the pride clear in his voice. It made sense that she- Junia had been from Dawn. A Peregryn and an Illyrian, two lesser fae known for their warrior skills and inherent desire for the skies. 

“I am not as skilled as Madja, but it's easier to heal when you know exactly what is wrong, exactly what hurts.” Junia said, rolling her eyes at Azriel’s shameless bragging. 

She let out a deep and rich laugh as she looked at everyone’s faces, all pained by the many questions swirling around in there. Feyre noted that she hadn’t heard such a joyous laugh since Azriel had done the same when Elain had gifted him medicine for all the headaches the Inner Circle gave him. 

Clearly, whatever bond they had between them was deep.

“You better introduce me, put them out of their misery.” She teased Az, who had been too caught up relishing her laugh, after a very long and rough berating it was nice to see her not seconds away from tearing out his wings. 

“R-right. Uh- this is my- well this is-” Azriel stammered.

“Mother above Az, don’t hurt yourself," Cassian amused.

Azriel closed his mouth as he blushed, unsure of how to go about this. 

“My name is Junia. As the brooding bat said, I am his Carranam.” Junia answered, side eyeing Azriel.

Keep it together, Az. It's a little pathetic. 

Azriel responded to her teasing look with a glare. We haven’t had to tell anyone about this in a while. Why don’t you try to explain it to these idiots if you are so clever.

Rhysand noticed the silent conversation going on between them.

“You can converse like Daemati? Is that your ability?” The High Lord asked her.

They both hesitated, realizing they didn’t really know how their so-called “telepathy” worked.

“No- or I don’t believe so at least. When you communicate with someone, you are doing so verbally, even if not aloud, correct? I don’t hear Azriel’s voice in my head, I just feel what he is trying to tell me, if that makes sense.”

“Like a mating bond?” Feyre questioned.

“Also no. It's not our feelings that are conveyed solely, we can gather more specific meaning from it. Yes, Junia would feel I was not excited for this conversation, but she would also know I was offering her one last chance to leave, should she also not want to deal with all of your… strong personalities.” Azriel responded, looking at Junia. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his family.

She laughed at his desperation which, while very clear to her, she knew the Inner Circle was none the wiser to the just how far Azriel was willing to go to leave this table. She could see him coming up with escape routes in his head as he picked up his wine glass. 

“Oh you poor delicate flower,” She teased. 

Unfortunately, they all still noticed the blush that once again appeared on Az’s face, laughing at their scary brother, head tortured of the Night Court, being compared to a ‘delicate flower’. 

Downing the rest of his glass, Azriel finally explained.

“A carranam bond isn’t like a mating bond. It comes from an old phrase, A Soul Friend. It gives Junia and I the ability to channel each other's powers, even make them stronger when we are together. Like you noticed, we have a different, more intimate way of communicating, far stronger than Daemati and mates can.”

“How the hell has no one else here heard of this bond?” Nesta asked, skeptical. Seems like something a group of people as obsessed with the mating bond would know about.

“It is rare, extremely so. There are also many… vulnerabilities that come with a bond such as this. To find your carranam is hard enough, most will never be born with one. But to accept such a bond is dangerous. And unfortunately there have been instances of others abusing such a gift. Tying their carranam up to reap their abilities, taking so much from them that both end up going insane. It became illegal in many places and eventually was forgotten by our world.” Junia answered.

“How did you find out what you guys had?” Feyre jumped in.

While this was Junia’s story as much as Azriel’s, she hesitated. Because there was another factor to that story, and she didn’t believe she was the one who should talk about it first.

Another glance between the two, a question asked. Azriel answered it by speaking up, “Junia is from Dawn. After my… mother was released- rescued from my father’s abuse, she wasn’t in wonderful shape. Fortunately, Rhys, Cassian, and myself found a place created by High Lord Thesan’s mother that offered aid to those escaping similar situations, Rosehall. That is where Junia worked as head healer. She helped my mother a lot throughout the years.” Such admiration and gratitude in his voice made several people at the table start to tear up.

Everyone was quiet. While Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor knew the story of Azriel’s mother being sent to Rosehall, they hadn’t known about Junia, just about the healer Az’s mother had gotten along with-

“You are the friend of his mother’s he sends gifts to every Solstice?” Mor asked, having been approached by Azriel for help with buying said gifts many times in the past.

“I thought you picked those gifts out yourself? You didn’t tell me Mor did all the work.” Junia turned to Az.

“I do pick them out, you just have peculiar taste. I have needed her help locating shops to buy such things before. That's it.” Az defended.

I certainly do have peculiar taste she silently said to Az who, again, blushed at the double entendre.

He quickly cleared his throat, “A few years after my mother had entered her care, while I was visiting, there was an attack on Rosehall. It was one of the families of a newer resident enacting revenge for escaping abuse. When many were hurt or dying… or dead, the two of us the only ones available to help, this bond had snapped out because of that desperation. It was new but it felt like it had always been there. We both leaned into the feeling and fortunately it didn’t end terribly. Suddenly, my shadows were able to start healing, and were able to talk to Junia, giving her any info on people who needed her help that she couldn’t see.”

Everyone was astonished at such a story. So different but also so similar to the mating bond. 

“Since then we have been each others’ confidants. While we don’t live particularly close, shadow walking gives me the ability to come to him whenever, and vice versa. Plus the connection is always there, even miles upon miles apart.” Junia answered. 

“Why keep it a secret?” Cassian questioned, knowing how much a connection like this would matter to Az, but confused because wouldn’t he want his family to know about him having such a bond?

“I am not exactly without enemies, Cas. I couldn’t have a possibility of someone coming after her because of me.” The sound of raw pain in his voice let his family know that this wasn’t something that was simply a fear. 

Someone had gone after her in revenge.

“Your secret is safe with us. You are safe with us. Should you need anything, just say the word.” Rhysand offered. 

The two carranam looked at each other. “After I spent a while yelling at Azriel for scaring me half to death multiple times in the past few days. We decided that maybe it was best I… step back from Rosehall.” Junia explained, sadness present in her tone as she talked about leaving the place that had been her sole purpose for her entire life. “I have healers on my staff that deserve the promotion, including Azriel’s mother, who has used her experiences to really become a confidant and friend to so many of our residents.” 

Azriel’s throat bobbed at the mention of just how much his mom had healed and helped since she escaped his father. 

Excitement filled the room at the possibility of adding another to their family. But Junia was still painfully aware of just how many questions everyone had.

“Alright, now that all the nitty gritty is out of the way, you can all begin your interrogation,” she teased.

All at once, tens of questions left everyone’s mouth. Not a single one able to be distinguished over the rest.

Azriel’s hand reached down to hold Junia’s, squeezing her while seeming to say I told you we should have escaped while we could.

They both downed their wine glasses while they waited for the Inner Circle to tire themselves out. 

A/N: Originally, this was the end. But I think I created so much backstory and also fell too much in love with Junia not to add more. So please let me know if you'd like more to this series! (And what you’d like to see)

Taglist: @bunnyred-blog1 @that-one-bibliophole @fuckingsimp4azriel @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minaaminaa8 @lilah-asteria @azrielswhore @maksamillion

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[wolvietxt]

𝓭aryl 𝓭ixon…

and quirks he has in a relationship !

pairing : daryl dixon x reader warnings : fluff, slight angst?, a bit of hurt / comfort, some quirks aren’t necessarily good, set in alexandria era but i think i kinda slipped up sometimes wc : 1.5k

ᰔ he’s always checking his weapons. daryl’s obsession with his weapons is no secret. he’s constantly checking his crossbow, knives, or any other tools he’s carrying. even when he's around the house, you’ll find him quietly inspecting them or making sure everything is in place. you’ve lost count of the times he’s done this right in front of you, like when he’s sitting on the couch, half-watching tv, but still fiddling with his knives. when you get frustrated and ask him why he can’t just sit still for a minute, daryl’s response is usually a gruff, "ain’t nothin' wrong with being prepared." he might not fully understand why it's annoying, but when you give him a pointed look, he’ll eventually stop and sit next to you, placing his weapons out of reach to show he’s trying to be present.

ᰔ he takes forever to get ready. daryl's not exactly the type to spend time in front of the mirror, but he’s got a peculiar routine when it comes to preparing for a trip or even just heading out for a short errand. you’d think a guy like him would be quick to throw on some clothes and go, but no - he’ll spend ten minutes checking his gear, making sure his jacket's right, his boots are clean, and that every tool is in place.   when you complain that he takes too long, he’ll just shrug, but if you get antsy or start giving him the silent treatment, he’ll throw his jacket on faster than usual and give you an exaggerated, "see? i'm ready. all set." it’s his way of apologizing, though he never really admits it.

ᰔ he’s a very attentive listener. daryl may not say much, but he listens to everything you say. when you’re talking, he’s paying attention, even if it’s just with a nod or a soft grunt of acknowledgment. when you need him to, he’s there to offer support or just quietly be by your side. you can tell he cares by how seriously he takes everything you say.   when you point out how good he is at listening, he might get a little embarrassed, but there’s no denying that he values your words. "i’m just listenin’," he’ll say, though it’s clear he’s more invested than he lets on.

ᰔ he’s always running late. while daryl doesn’t have a problem being punctual for important things like group meetings or during a crisis, when it comes to hanging out with you or something less urgent, he’s always late. it’s like he gets too caught up in his own world - whether it’s tinkering with his bike or cleaning his weapons - and forgets the time. you’re always the one waiting, tapping your foot impatiently.   when you point out that he’s late again, daryl’s awkward about it. he might grumble something about losing track of time, but if you call him out on it, he’ll try harder next time. when he finally shows up, he might bring you something small, like a coffee or a random flower he found on his way, trying to make it up to you in his quiet way.

ᰔ he’s super stubborn. daryl’s one of the most stubborn people you'll ever meet. once he has his mind set on something, there's no changing it. whether it’s about a decision or how to do something, he refuses to listen to advice, even from you. this makes it hard when you’re just trying to help or offer your thoughts on something.   when you get upset with him for not listening, daryl can get defensive and shut down for a bit, but if he notices you’re genuinely frustrated, he’ll quietly give in. it’s subtle, but he might come around later and admit, "maybe you were right about that," though it takes a lot for him to say those words directly.

ᰔ how he always remembers the small things. daryl doesn’t forget the little things about you - your favorite snacks, the way you like your coffee, or the book you were reading a few weeks ago. it’s not obvious to everyone else, but he picks up on these tiny details and quietly makes sure to remember them.   if you thank him for remembering something, he’ll look away, muttering, "wasn’t hard to remember." but you can see the small glimmer of pride in his eyes when you mention it. it’s just his way of showing he cares without saying it outright.

ᰔ he’s not the best at communication. daryl’s not great at expressing his feelings or talking things through. when something’s bothering him, he bottles it up until it eventually comes out in a gruff comment or an angry outburst. when you try to talk to him about it, he shuts down or deflects, and it leaves you feeling like you’re hitting a wall.   if you get upset by his lack of communication, he might get frustrated with himself, but after a while, he’ll sit down beside you and mutter something vague like, "i’m just not good with words, alright?" and while it’s not a full apology, it’s his way of showing he’s trying, even if it's not perfect.

ᰔ he’s very protective over you. it’s not always obvious, but daryl’s incredibly protective of you in small, subtle ways. whether it’s walking on the side of you closest to the road or keeping his eyes on you when you're around people, he makes sure you’re safe without saying much. his protectiveness is instinctual, and even though he tries not to be overbearing, it’s clear that he cares.   if you point it out, daryl might just grunt and say, "it's just how it is," but if you tease him about it, he’ll give a slight smile, even if it’s hidden behind a gruff exterior.

ᰔ his little, quiet gestures of affection. daryl's not big on grand gestures, but he has his own ways of showing affection. maybe it's putting his hand on your shoulder when you're cooking or a quick, unnoticeable touch to the small of your back when he’s walking beside you. these little actions are his way of staying connected to you, always. even if he’s not always vocal about it.   when you tease him about being more affectionate, he’ll act tough and deny it, but if you catch him staring at you for a moment too long, his cheeks might flush slightly, and he’ll grumble something under his breath like, "ain’t nothin’ wrong with it."

ᰔ his awkwardness around you when he’s nervous. daryl’s a lot more awkward than he lets on, especially when it comes to you. he has this habit of fidgeting with his hands, running them through his hair, or avoiding eye contact when he's nervous or unsure about something. it’s endearing, and you can’t help but smile when you catch him looking away quickly.   if you point out how cute it is that he’s acting all nervous around you, he’ll roll his eyes, but there’s a small part of him that warms up to your teasing. "shut up," he’ll mutter, but he’s secretly grateful you notice his little quirks.

extras:

ᰔ his stubbornness can cause fights. daryl’s stubborn streak is a part of him, but sometimes it gets in the way. like the time you tried to convince him to let someone else take over a chore so he could rest. he brushed you off, muttering something about not needing anyone's help. you let it go at first, but when you pressed him again later, he snapped with a sharp, "just leave it, alright?" the comment cut deeper than he probably meant it to, and you walked away without another word. later that night, you heard him fumbling around outside your door. eventually, he knocked, muttering, “ya awake?” when you opened it, he stood there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. "didn’t mean to bark at ya earlier," he said quietly, looking at the floor. "just... don’t like feeling useless." his honesty softened your frustration, and when he finally glanced up, the genuine regret in his eyes made it hard to stay mad.

ᰔ he struggles with communication, and it can leave you upset. daryl’s not great with words, and sometimes his silence feels like a wall between you. like the time you asked him what was wrong after a long, tense day, and all you got was a gruff, "nothin’." you tried to push him gently, but he just shrugged and walked off, leaving you feeling shut out. it wasn’t until much later, when he found you sitting outside alone, that he tried to fix it. he sat down beside you without a word, passing you one of the beers he’d been holding. after a long stretch of silence, he finally muttered, “ain’t good at this kinda thing.” you looked over, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “don’t mean i don’t wanna talk to ya. just... takes me a minute.” it wasn’t a perfect apology, but it was enough to remind you how hard he was trying, even if he didn’t always have the words.

🌀 daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Forever and Ever... Even in the 1920s-1960s

Started going down a long digression in the 2+4 essay. Gonna follow this breadcrumb trail over here instead...

One of my arguments is that Gordon actually behaves well and graciously way more often than he is usually given credit for (and starts doing this way earlier than often credited, too).

Along the way, I realized that his spots of bad behavior are not random. When he starts acting all Ass, it's almost always in the period of some sort of major change in his life:

The Three Railway Engines - *waves hand vaguely* all of it -> he's just transferred from the GNR to Sodor

Troublesome Engines - *waves hand again* y'know, all of it -> Thomas moved away :(

Henry the Green Engine - harrumphing about how Henry has let the side down in like three different ways directly after Henry's major reconstructive surgery -> the horrible wreck where Henry, his best friend, could have died, and instead was in hospital the rest of the damn winter

Gordon the Big Engine - "Mind you keep on the rails today!" and then, when he gets pushback, retreating to old friend "boasting" -> is he mother-henning Henry?? he's explicitly referencing the Kipper accident! I would not be too shocked to learn that Gordon gets twinges of unease that he never examines every so often whenever he sees Henry with a train

Percy the Small Engine - "Quack quack quack!" and trying to bully Duck (lol. lmao, even) -> Percy is gonna move away :(

Main Line Engines - getting on his high horse about "Branch Line Diesels" and then getting into a huge spat with Edward that results a brand-new beat-down of a dead horse named "Edward is Weak and Useless" -> We learn in "Wrong Road" that his fireman is new. Presumably his old fireman advanced to fill the role, leaving the vacancy... which means that Gordon recently lost his old driver to retirement.

You might be thinking "well yeah, stressors are stressful, most people's outbreaks of bad behavior have to do with some sort of Big Life Thing" - I certainly thought so, for a mo'. But this isn't true of the other major characters? James's worst behavior in the Wilbert books comes when he is slightly delayed sometimes during his work day and when Toby just, erm… exists. Thomas's worst behavior is because he… doesn't like his snowplough, and has a careless cleaner.

No, only Gordon's poor behavior can so consistently be linked to big changes. Indeed, not many RWS characters have been seen with quite as much of an interior life as we learn Gordon has in "Tenders for Henry." By that point, Gordon has matured enough that he doesn't express his feelings in this emotionally-stupid make-it-everyone's-problem sort of way. But we can see clearly that the end of steam seems to affect him more deeply than anyone else at Tidmouth.

So yeah, I think there's something real and insightful in the above pattern. Once again, my friends - Galloping Sausage with Feelings.

[wistfulnightingale]

Aziraphale's Jubilant Smile (NOT the crazy elevator grin)

Part 8 of 8 in The Chess Moves Theory Set by @wistfulnightingale

The rare times we see Aziraphale smile like this, it makes me want to smile too! The happiness is contagious. It's a genuine smile, the special smile our angel usually reserves for Crowley.

Remember seeing it? Just before Aziraphale gets on the elevator?

Neither did I.

No, it's not a special edit or cut scene. It goes by in a millisecond, just after the Metatron announces The Second Coming, and steps out of our sightline. This is the expression on Aziraphale's face, for the tiniest instant, before he registers what the Metatron just said. Our Angel is looking in the direction of Crowley and the Bentley. He was safe for a moment, literally behind the Metatron's back, unseen and unsupervised for a few moments, as that wonderful smile was happening.

As the Metatron steps aside, the camara cuts and moves in closer. The Angel's happy grin immediately disappears, and Aziraphale's remaining small smile slowly fades and changes to alarm as he turns his head to look after the Metatron.

Then, he slowly and cautiously turns his head back towards Crowley. It has to be a guarded and cautious look because now the Metatron is in the elevator facing Aziraphale, frowning expectantly...

But the Jubilant, Happy Smile that was first there suggests to us a new understanding of what might have been happening in that cautious look across the street, and why Crowley was still waiting.

If nothing else from the other 7 parts of my 8-Part Chess Moves Theory made you reconsider the Final 15, this singular photo might.

We see so much anxiety and stiff smiles and mixed messages from Aziraphale in his contact with the Metatron, from the time the so-called Voice of God walks into the bookshop uninvited and seemingly without permission (See Nothing Lasts Forever), to the time Aziraphale gets on the elevator. We know he is not Happily trotting away, excited about his new promotion. And it appears that he just broke up with Crowley and is leaving him behind...

Until we see this exuberant smile -- aimed in Crowley's direction.

It's not an anxious smile or a fake smile or one of the hundred variations of Aziaphale putting on an act for someone. It's a pure, happy, genuine smile.

Folks, something happened.

Something we didn't get to easily see.

Something hidden in Misdirection, and in chaotic confusion, and in loss and grief and frantic scrambling to figure out how to cope and what to do...

I think it happened during the Kiss (See The Circle Kiss Theory), but, even if I'm mistaken.... some Good thing must have happened to make Azi smile at Crowley like that!

..........

Tumblr is fun and Tumblr is wonderful weird chaos. You might be seeing this final post of mine before seeing any of the rest of my 8-part Chess Moves Theory Set. If you're interested or curious about the rest of the interconnected ideas I have about all this, you might enjoy checking out the rest of them at @wistfulnightingale!

Thanks for coming along on this crazy ride!!!

The 8 Chess Moves MetaTheory Set:

1 - The Metatron Misdirection

2 - The Metatron's Second Coming

3 - Ineffables in Check

4 - A Hefty Jigger of Death

5 - Nothing Lasts Forever

6 - The Circle Kiss Theory

7 - The Nightingale DID Sing

8 - Aziraphale's Jubilant Smile (Not the crazy elevator grin)

Also: The Chess Moves Theory Set, Why Chess & Magic?

[alphajocklover]

When I first started this blog — and started reporting on transformation in general — my first report was on a strange phenomenon I called ‘Supernova Transformations.’ It’s where any wish made upon a certain star, an unusually bright and mysterious supernova, would be granted in a twisted, sexually charged way. I haven’t talked about it in a while, since lately I’ve been focusing more on mysteries a little closer to home, but I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn’t still intrigued by the seemingly magical exploding star. I think every reporter, TF or regular, has a special place in their heart for their first story, and I’m no exception. That fondness is part of the reason why I recently decided to look further into the Supernova itself, which has led me to discover something… fairly strange.

I once theorized that the light from the supernova was what was granting wishes and transforming people, but new evidence I’ce found suggests that is only half right. The light is magic, and is of the power of the supernova to grant wishes comes from, but the light isn’t actually what transforms people. Because the magic of the light actually travels faster than light itself.

Part of what defines magic is the fact that it does the impossible. That’s why when someone wishes on the mysterious supernova, the wish is granted quickly, instead of taking the years it would take for light to travel from a distant star. The magic itself travels much faster, comes to earth, and grants to wish in a sexually charged way.

But… that doesn’t mean the light isn’t also coming to earth. And while the magic is faster… the magic infused light is much, much more powerful. And once it reaches earth… Everyone will be transformed. By all the wishes made on the star, all at once. Or, in other words…

When the light of the supernova comes to earth, everyone will be transformed into dumb, horny sex gods.

I didn’t believe it at first. I mean, I’ve used a Time Machine before, I’ve been to the future! I know not everyone is transformed. But… after taking a closer look at my Time Machine, I realized I’ve never been that far into the future. In fact… it won’t take me that far. The people who gave me the Time Machine, the Douchebag Revolution, they must have programmed the machine not to go to that time period. I’ve reached out to them but they’ve been weirdly quiet about the whole thing.

The good news is we have plenty of time before the light gets here. By my calculations the light still has another 100 light years to travel. So, we have time. But… in about 100 years, things are going to get really crazy.

It might not last forever, and we might figure out a way to stop it from happening at all, but if we don’t? The world might just end with a huge worldwide orgy.

Not the worst way to go out.

**hey everyone! Sorry this took so long! I’ve been kind of depressed lately but I’m getting myself back in the swing of things, and getting back to writing! I hope you guys like my 100th story, and how it relates back to my first story. Stay tuned for more!**

[selinakylesupremacy]

Favourite Batcat quotes in comics:

Bruce to Selina:

There exists such a thing as longing, for two hearts beating across time, space, and dimension, then perhaps she helped provide a beacon. A reason to return. Someone to come back to. - Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Catwoman #1 (2010)

When we kiss the pain goes away - Batman #12 (2020)

Her smell. Chanel. Wet leather. And sweat. I want to get lost in that smell. - Detective Comics #800 (2005)

Nothing matters as long as we're together - Batman Chronicles #11 (2014)

In any world, I love her - Batman #132 (2023)

There has only been one woman who has really held my heart - Heart of Hush (2009)

All I can think about is Selina. Beautiful, fascinating Selina Kyle. - Batman: Black and White #6 (2016)

When I first met you on that boat, the diamond you stole, after I got it back. I bought it. I've had it for years. I knew, even at the beginning. I knew I'd need it. I... I needed it. Just like... I need you. - Batman #24 (2017)

I'd do anything for you. - Catwoman #51 (2023)

She's more important than the galaxies. - Batman #68 (2019)

She's the only one who...who understands what... she knows who I am. What I am. And she loves me anyway. - Batman #15 (2017)

I love you Cat. I always will. - Batman #85 (2019)

Something passed between us - a spark of electricity. The shock of recognition. It was as if I'd suddenly found a part of myself that I never knew was missing. - Batman Chronicles #11 (2014)

Without you, I'm lost - Batman/Catwoman #6 (2020)

When I do let myself dream, Selina...in that life. I'm with you. - Catwoman: Lonely City #3 (2022)

Even in the middle of death and madness she makes my heart skip - Batman #143 (2024)

My world is dust without you - Batman #78 (2019)

Selina to Bruce:

By now we both know we can't stop it. This. Might as well try to stop the planets orbiting the sun. It's more than love. It's gravity. - Catwoman #1 (2023)

You and me. The Bat and the Cat. In the dark making sparks - Batman #392 (1986)

When the world blows up around us we reach out for one another. - Catwoman #58 (2023)

The Bat and the Cat. We are forever. - Batman #85 (2019)

You are part of the night, just like me. We're not afraid of the dark - we come alive in it. - Catwoman #40 (1996)

I'd rather die with you than live without you. - JLA: The Nail (1998)

When I fall he catches me - Batman #37 (2017)

Just for today don't be Batman. Don't be the mask. It's okay to let it go, just for today. You can fall apart, I'll hold you together. - Injustice: Gods Among Us #17 (2013)

I hope somewhere deep down you know I will never let you fall - Detective Comics # 1077 (2023)

I liked the smell of him - leather and sweat - Batman #66 (2019)

I liked how he held me, like he could do anything, but he couldn't let go - Batman #66 (2019)

I love you too, Bruce. Just like a fairy tale, I could live with you in your castle forever. - Batman Returns Comic (1992)

His love is my great escape - Catwoman #58 (2023)

I love you, Bat. I love you so much - Batman #85 (2019)

[daisymbin]

Hello belle can I ask a joshua prompt with 11. "that’s not what you were saying last night."

Like they're playing any kind of board game and reader says something but joshua fights back with the prompt

Thankyou

hihi!! that's such a cute idea!! thank you for requesting 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

suggestive prompt #11: "that's not what you were saying last night."

joshua leaned forward, elbows resting on the coffee table as he watched you take your turn. the game wasn’t supposed to be this complicated, but somehow, the two of you had turned it into a battle of wits. your brow furrowed as you studied the board, lips pursed like you were calculating the trajectory of a rocket launch instead of where to move a pawn.

“you always take forever,” joshua teased, breaking the silence.

“i don’t,” you shot back without looking at him.

“you do. every single time.”

you rolled your eyes, finally picking up a piece and placing it. “there. happy?”

he hummed, tilting his head as he pretended to inspect the board. “bold choice. risky, even.”

“it’s a solid move,” you argued, leaning back against the couch.

“if you say so,” he said, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

you narrowed your eyes at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” he replied, voice light and innocent.

“you’re the worst,” you muttered, grabbing the dice for your next roll.

“funny, that’s not what you were saying last night,” joshua said, his tone so casual it took a second for his words to land.

the dice slipped from your fingers, bouncing off the board as you froze. your head snapped up, eyes wide as you stared at him. “i—what?”

he leaned back, arms crossed as he grinned at you, clearly pleased with himself. “just saying. you didn’t seem to think I was the worst last night when you were—”

your face flushed instantly, the color creeping from your neck to your cheeks. “i dont know what you're talking about.” you say, cutting him off.

“you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he teased, his voice dropping just slightly.

“i don’t,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered, betraying you.

"do you need me to remind you then?" joshua shrugged, looking entirely too smug as he leaned in closer.

joshua’s fingers ghosted along your jaw, his touch featherlight as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. his eyes were warm, yet dark and intense, entirely focused on you.

you froze at the contact, your hands fumbling as you reached for the dice again. “we’re playing a game, joshua. focus.”

“oh, i’m focused,” he replied, his voice lower now.

“on the game,” you clarified, glancing at him with a glare that lacked any real heat.

he hummed, clearly putting no mind into your words as his hand moved to the side of your neck, his thumb resting against your pulse, which you knew was racing.

“you know,” he started, his voice dropping even lower, “i think you like making me work for it.”

“work for what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as he closed the last bit of space between you.

“this,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours lightly, teasingly, before pulling back just enough to make you chase him.

your breath hitched, and joshua’s smirk grew, his thumb brushing over your pulse again.

“you’re not being fair,” you muttered, your hands finding the front of his shirt, clutching the fabric as if it might ground you.

“me? unfair?” he asked, feigning innocence, though the way his lips ghosted over your skin—your cheek, the edge of your jaw, the curve of your neck—made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

“joshua,” you said, his name slipping out more like a plea than a protest.

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed a lingering kiss to the base of your throat.

“okay, okay,” he relented, his voice warm with amusement as he finally captured your lips in a kiss that was anything but teasing.

his hand on your neck slid to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left between you. your hands moved instinctively, sliding up to his shoulders, gripping him like he was the only solid thing in the room.

joshua kissed you like he had all the time in the world, slow and deliberate, his lips moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless. when he pulled back, it wasn’t far, his forehead resting against yours as he smiled—a small, private thing meant only for you.

“better?” he asked, his voice soft, his breath warm against your lips.

“better,” you replied, your own voice barely steady as you tried to catch your breath.

he didn’t give you long, his lips finding yours again, this time with a little more urgency, a little less restraint. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap, the kiss growing more heated with every second.

your fingers tangled in his hair, and he groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. his hands gripped your hips, his touch firm but careful, like he wanted to hold you even closer but was still holding himself back.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads still pressed together.

“you’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly hoarse, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“you’re the one who started it,” you replied, your fingers still in his hair, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“and i’m not planning on stopping,” he said, his tone teasing, but his eyes told a different story—one of warmth, desire, and something deeper that made your breath catch all over again.

[jacketpotatoo]

Initial Thoughts on Arcane S2 (spoilers)

I think season 1 was far stronger because it told a much more focused story and centred its themes on the relationships of the characters. What I love about s1 is that you could pick two characters from anywhere in the show, and they'd be foils of some kind, or parallel each other, etc. We don't get enough time with characters talking to each other for that in s2. In s1, so much of the insight we gain from characters is through their conversations with each other - this is effective because they're there and reacting to each other, so you get the deeping of their relationships alongside development of the plot. I think this is why people resonate so strongly with Ep7 - it's so contained. The expanded cast of characters and expanded plotlines mean that at times, it feels like they're checking off plot beats rather than letting the story develop as its characters do. But this is also why I find the jayvik storyline to be the most compelling part of s2 - it's this beautiful medley of greater themes and personal ambition wrapped around inextricably in the other. I found the show's thesis on healing and destruction and the cycles of human violence compelling, and I liked that magic was a sort of tech/industrialisation stand in. Viktor had some GREAT lines that I need to spend some more time unpacking. Cosmic yaoi soulmatism is beautiful. Also speaking of episode 7, I also thought Ekko's arc was incredible and the best and he's the best and I love him.

That being said, I definitely think the ball was dropped on the class commentary. The writers simply took on too much - just trying to explore the class tensions between Zaun and Piltover is enough to take up the entire season. And it's so deeply integral to the politics of the season, and to the balance of the relationships of various characters, that it's just a bit. sigh. Especially when nearly all the new characters introduced get killed off. And we don't get much focus at all on Sevika, who's one of the only main characters involved in revolution. I love Isha, but she felt so much to me like a plot device to me that i find it hard to reconcile. And the lack of class-commentary sours their portrayal of Caitvi alot for me. I personally think Cait's revenge to reconciliation arc was handled fine, and that a verbal apology wouldn't mean as much to vi as the action of freeing her sister did, but the last line of the show is hard for me. "I'm the dirt under your nails." I get that it can be interpreted multiple ways (see: non-problematically), but that had to have crossed the writers' minds. Is it intentional then? A reminder of Vi's insecurities, simply glossed over by Caitlyn? Does it just draw attention to the inequality of their relationship, indicate that there's further work to be done between them and individually? Honestly I feel the same way about where Zaun/Piltover is left off politically. This sort of ambivalent state that isn't endorsed (the sneers the council throws at Sevika are intentional), but is unfortunately realistic. I don't think the ending is a happy one at all. Ambivalent really is the word I'd use to describe it.

I also figure that I need to rewatch the show in full, including season 1. Thoughts might change! I'm still working things out in the brain. I do still think Arcane is a fucking beast and a triumph, and I will forever be inspired by it. I love these characters. every shipper won something and I think that's beautiful. Fortiche's animation is revolutionary.