#like lets all focus on whats important...

[deusfoundry]

18+ only mdni pls thank u!

also big BIIG thanks to ree @tbaluver for helping me w this ILY MWAAH!

zayne would never be opposed to letting you have your way with him.

one half-lidded gaze from you, one graze of your manicured nails at his clothed length, one drag of your wet tongue against the shell of his ear as you tell him how badly you want him inside you, and he's a goner. already, he's letting you drag him to the bedroom. sometimes neither of you even have the patience to go there, and zayne ends up pinning you against the wall just outside his office, his palms desperately clinging to the back of your thigh in a way that burns. sometimes he settles on having you bent over his desk, his chest pressed against your back, the same nails clawing at the heavy mahogany, papers hastily pushed to the side.

but this report is important. it's due first thing in the morning, and as much as he wants to be in bed with you, right now he has to finish this.

when you first approached him tonight with the pure and genuine intention of getting him to sleep early, he dismisses you apologetically. he places a hand on your cheek, swiping his thumb right below your eyes as if he's wiping your tears and tells you he's sorry. he'll be there soon, and you should go to sleep if you're feeling tired (which he knows you are, if the yawn you struggle to push down is anything to go by).

he watches your figure retreat from his office, shoulders hunched and footsteps unnervingly silent. the guilt starts to simmer within him, slowly, steadily eating at him until he's filled with thoughts of abandoning his work to put that smile he adores back on your face. he wills his focus back on the screen in front of him instead, dead set on making it up to you after his shift tomorrow. perhaps he can even afford to clock out a little earlier, just in time to pick up two boxes of the strawberry macarons you two love so much from a cafe at the other side of town right before they close.

except, you come back to his office a half hour later, and this time, zayne knows you're up to no good.

it's in the little things. you're sauntering towards him with a sway to your hips. the first two buttons of his shirt you're wearing is undone, one side of the collar pulled to the edge of your shoulder, exposing to him a dangerous amount of smooth skin. the cherry on top is the noticeable absence of the shorts you were wearing earlier.

zayne wonders if you'd forgo wearing your underwear as well.

"zayne..." it's there, too. in the way you say his name, drawled out and a little breathless. if he listens closely, he can hear the undertone of a whine.

he feels the all familiar strain in his pants.

zayne watches, a mix of amusement and intrigue, as you rub a palm up and down the length of his arm before nudging it away and sliding yourself onto his lap. you encase his neck between your arms, using it to anchor yourself closer until you're right on top of his increasingly aching cock.

you make no comment about the bulge in his pants poking your thighs, but he knows you're aware of the effect you have on him. a smug grin makes it way to your lips. just a flicker, a brief moment where you acknowledge what you're doing to him, and it's gone the next second.

"i'm not feeling too well, doctor. i think i need a check-up."

you begin feigning distress, making a show out of curling into yourself and leaning against his chest. the movement you make causes the fabric on your shoulder to slip off. slowly, like each added inch of skin baring itself to him is taunting him. it stops, resting right in the middle of your arm, low enough that he can see the better part of your left breast.

his face runs hot, but he decides to humor you. just for the few seconds he could afford to spare if he wanted to finish this report before midnight.

the back of zayne's hand finds your neck. he moves it around a little, shifting from one side to another as if he's checking for your temperature.

"there's nothing particularly off about your temperature." he hums, sliding you further down his lap, intent on pouring all his attention to his work. he'll just have to deal with his ... problem later.

zayne almost misses the way your face falls in disappointment once you realize what he's doing. there's that guilt again.

he plants a kiss on your temple, his lips lingering on the side of your head much longer than it should've had. he's hoping it's enough to convey his words unsaid.

"perhaps you're just missing a few hours of sleep. shall i accompany the patient back to her bedroom?"

you stay quiet, lips pursed in deep thought. the silence stretches on until zayne gathers it's time for him to speak.

only, you beat him to it, moving to straddle his thighs so quickly that zayne can only react by wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don't fall. you land right back over his cock with enough force that it pulls an involuntary groan out of his lips and a whimper from yours.

"i think-" you breathe in, a sharp inhale through your nose before you breathe out through your mouth. the searing heat of your breath on zayne's ear makes him shiver beneath you, low vibrations sending a jolt to your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

"i think this requires a more..." you take his hand in yours, shakily drawing it closer to hover over your breast. "hands-on approach, doctor."

zayne's head is spinning. your cunt over his painfully hard cock. the odd warmth radiating from your chest, the faint shadow of your pert nipples through his shirt. this look you're giving him, eyes hazy and half-closed like you're already lost in the pleasure when you've barely gotten enough. it's too much.

it's all too much.

"dear-"

he's cut off by the drag of your hips, pressing down on him with enough pressure that his head is thrown back from the friction of the inner fabric of his pants rubbing against his length, but just shy of the speed you both need to chase your high.

zayne finally puts his foot down when your pace starts to get more frantic. he pries his hand off of yours, using the combined strength of his arm around your waist and his hand on your hips to steady you.

he hears a quiet whine slipping past your lips at the loss of pleasure.

"stop. t- that's enough." he means to add more conviction to his words, but he finds that his voice comes out as less polite pleading and more pathetic begging. "i'll make it up to you later, just- just let me finish this."

a mix of whimpers and whines fall off your lips. you try to move despite his restraints, rolling your hips with as much fervor as you can muster. and it works. zayne moans, his arms going limp over that momentary burst of pleasure. you take advantage of his weakened state to full on ride his clothed cock.

zayne begins to lose himself. the thought of his report sits there, idly in the back of his mind, but it's almost completely replaced by you. you, and the delicious roll of your hips into his, filling his vision with the sight of stars and the whole universe. you, and the blissed out look on your face as you use his body to chase your pleasure. you, your eyes shut in concentration, your messed up hair, your nails clawing at his shoulders.

you.

you.

you.

you've almost consumed him whole.

almost.

zayne regains his bearings just in time to stop you from going over the edge. your eyes are pried open, jaw slacking as his hand finds your waist once more. you're about to complain, beg him to allow you to keep going. but his fingers dig into your flesh. his grip, firm yet delicate, sends an odd blend of pain and pleasure through your senses.

"i said that's enough."

zayne says—no, commands with a certain finality in his voice that makes you think he wants to stop altogether. but you find his actions contradicting his words when he pushes his chair back, providing him enough space to turn you around with ease.

your mind is having trouble keeping up with him. you can make out the sound of his zipper being pulled, the rustling of his pants as he yanks it down just enough for his length to spring free, the light slapping of skin on skin when his cock makes brief contact with your back. but you only come face to face with what's happening when zayne hoists you up by the waist, dragging your panties to the side. your juices from earlier acts as a lubricant for him to sheathe his cock into you with little resistance.

you're so full so suddenly, gummy walls gripping him like a vice. the tip brushes against that spot inside you that zayne knows sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"zayne-!"

"shh, be quiet." he slides the chair back towards the desk, his arm unmoving around your waist. every slight twitch of his cock has you clenching down on him, but zayne makes no move to react. your only indication of how riled up he truly is are his hand latching on to your skin and the minute quiver of his voice, breath hot and shaky over your ear.

you're reminded of how it was him in this position a moment ago. how it was seemingly your victory.

"now, why don't you be a good girl and stay still."

something tells you you're in for a long night.

a/n: smut is surprisingly fun to write lmfao HKASHFD

dividers by @cafekitsune

[strwberri-milk]

hi hiii :D

i was hoping you’d take in this request of the lads men at reader’s graduation ceremony/party after she completes a hard degree she’s been studying for all this time :3

like what would the boys reaction be as they see her name being called out to get her degree on stage, and their interaction after the ceremony is over :D pretty pleaseeee

i’m gonna use this as motivation to study hard for my upcoming exam week hahaha

thank you take care <333

ughh tbh i skipped my graduation so i just made stuff up LMAO also i didnt define a degree bc hard degree is v v subjective lolol

He would clear his entire schedule to be there with you. It doesn't matter what he's doing that day - it doesn't matter. You can argue with him all you want, especially if he has an event that comes up you perceive as being more important. Rafayel and Sylus basically make up their own schedules so they've made sure that nothing is planned. Zayne and Xavier have booked the day off months in advance, knowing that they wanted absolutely nothing to get in the way.

He's also got his camera - phone or DSLR in Rafayel's case - to take a bunch of photos. He's going to commemorate this special occasion of course and is more than happy to either stage some photos, or just take dozens of photos of you. He also got a special bouquet just for you.

You can see Zayne in the audience clapping and smiling at you proudly. He doesn't do super big displays of affection, especially since this is an event for you, not him. When you walk the stage he's taking a bunch of photos, both for your reference and his.

He gives you the flowers he bought out to the event, passersby looking a little jealously at how extravagant and luscious they look. You don't notice at all considering all you can focus entirely on his little speeches about how proud he is of you.

Xavier's incredibly excited to be present at your graduation. He's smiling and clapping for you, also not a big cheerer but the happiness in his eyes is pretty obvious. When you finally step off of the stage he opens his arms to you, letting you run at him and hugging you tightly. His bouquet for you is super cute, a slight mess but still adorable. He put together a bouquet of treats - whatever it is you may like - as well as little plush or trinkets that you adore. It's not traditional but the grin you give him is more than worth it.

Rafayel's your personal photographer, nobody questioning the guy with the giant camera as he comes closer to the stage. You're a little embarrassed by how happy he is but you also can see that he's trying to keep things lowkey as much as possible. He showers you in affection once you step off the stage, taking you back to his car where he's got a giant bouquet hiding in the trunk. You stare at it, wide mouth and slack jawed as he just shrugs it off, telling you it's still in there because he couldn't carry it to the auditorium without destroying it.

Sylus sits in the audience, absolutely bored until your name is called. As soon as he hears the first syllable he brings his fingers to his mouth, letting out a sharp whistle that startles everyone, including you. He heard other people doing it and he wanted to outshine them all for the love of his life. His bouquet is very fancy and he's decided not to take it out in public just in case, presenting you with a lavish bouquet of flowers made of hundred dollar bills.

[freyadragonlord]

Recently I’ve been thinking about the different types of love languages in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, The S-Classes That I Raised, and Lout of the Count’s Family…

Not to say that each of the stories describes only one single kind of love language; they are, after all, all novels that focus on Found Family, with many different types of relationships between characters that express their love for each other in as many different ways.

Yet, I’ve noticed how at the core of each of these three stories there is one specific act of love that recurs more than others, and that becomes the true Theme each novel revolves around.

In Lout of the Count’s Family, the main love language is providing food and a home.

“Home” is such an important concept in LCF that Cale collects houses like they were pokemon cards. The source of his trauma when he was a child as Kim Roksu was that he was not given sufficient food, and that where he lived was not truly a shelter where he could feel safe, just a place he was trapped in.

And I don’t think there are ever more than 2 chapters in a row without a character offering food to others, or asking if they’re hungry, if they’ve eaten, why haven’t you eaten, here have some apple pie!!

Cale uses his newfound money and power to make sure his loved ones are provided for. That’s how he adopts bonds with most of his new family.

The first thing Raon does after he’s freed from the prison he’s been trapped in all his life, is to leave food for this hopelessly weak human.

Choi Han, who has lived alone in a dangerous forest for decades, would do anything to protect his home.

The Crown Prince, who has been isolated and untrusting of everyone ever since his mother died, makes sure to always have cookies in his bedroom in case guests “break in” for a visit at any time of the day or the night.

I love you, you’ll never be hungry again. I love you, my home is your home.

In The S-Classes That I Raised, the main love language is words.

Yoojin’s powers are literally activated by telling people “I love you”. Because all he ever wanted was to say “I love you” to his brother one last time.

Because the tragedy that starts the story happens because Yoohyun loved and protected his hyung in secret for years. Silence creates misunderstandings, it creates distance, it leads to loss.

Loving someone isn’t enough, tell them! Reassure them. Remember what they say, because their words are important!!

Ever since the regression, Yoojin always let people know when he loves them and appreciates them. “You’re perfect, you’re cute, you’re so talented, you’re so handsome, you are loved.”

And as the novel progresses, whenever Yoojin is in pain, or doesn’t know what to do, he turns to Sung Hyunje because he needs to be reassured, he needs to know he did well, he needs to hear he is still important to the people he loves.

I love you, please know that I love you! I love you, please tell me you love me back.

And finally, in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, the main love language is time.

Time is one of the greatest sources of horrors in ORV. Eternities upon eternities of suffering, being trapped for ages in the same, hopeless loop, wishing for everything to just stop.

And yet, time is also the greatest gift characters give to each other.

Because the wounds Dokja suffered as a child, and then again and again through his whole life…. They need time to heal. They need so much time. They will probably take forever.

So let them take forever.

Despite how much pain and worry he causes his companions by giving up on himself over and over again, his companions never give up on him. And he doesn’t understand why!! He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But it’s not his choice, it’s theirs. And they will go through as many tries, as much pain, as much time as it takes, before they can finally save him.

I love you, so I will wait fifty years for you. I love you, so I will live through thousands of lifetimes to find you. I love you, so I will read and reread your story for the rest of time, just to keep you alive.

[paigesbasketball]

Shadow the Hedgehog Headcannons

Shadow the hedgehog x reader Warnings: None Notes: just shadow if he were being a tease to his significant other (a little sum cause the movie was dropped)

Sarcastic Remarks: Shadow loves to make sarcastic comments, often poking fun at your habits or quirks. He'll tell you things like, "Guess I’ll have to show you how it's done, again," whenever you try to do something he thinks you can’t handle.

Mocking Your Speed: Since he’s known for being incredibly fast, Shadow might tease you about not being able to keep up. "Hurry up, unless you're planning on slowing me down," he’ll smirk, knowing full well you’ll catch up in your own way.

Feigning Ignorance: Shadow loves pretending he doesn’t know something when he clearly does, just to get a rise out of you. If you ask him for help with something, he might say, “I’m not your tutor,” then end up showing you anyway.

The ‘Unexpected Compliment’: He’ll drop a compliment in the most unexpected way, making it seem like he’s trying to be rude at first. "You actually look halfway decent today. Guess it’s the lighting," he'll say with a smirk, knowing you’ll blush or respond defensively.

Teasing Physical Touch: He may deliberately brush up against you or playfully nudge you when you're not expecting it. Sometimes, it’s just to mess with you, and other times, it’s to see how you'll react to the sudden closeness.

Over-the-Top Drama: Shadow might act overly dramatic when you do something he finds amusing. "Oh, sure, that’s how you’re going to solve it? Classic,” he’ll say with exaggerated disbelief, even if it’s a simple solution. It’s all in good fun to see your reaction.

Competitive Tease: In friendly competitions or games, Shadow will never let you forget who’s winning. “Not bad, but I am the ultimate,” he’ll taunt, grinning whenever you get even a tiny bit close to beating him.

Mocking Your ‘Flustered’ Moments: If you get flustered or embarrassed, Shadow loves to notice and point it out with a sly grin. “Did I say something that made you blush? How cute,” he’ll tease, not letting you live it down for a while.

"I’m Not Interested" (But He Totally Is): Shadow will act uninterested when you flirt or compliment him, saying things like, “Stop wasting your time,” but his small smirk or subtle eye contact will tell you otherwise, making you wonder if he’s just playing hard to get.

Unbothered Smirks: Whenever you try to challenge him or show off, he’ll give you that signature smirk and say, “Is that all you’ve got?” His teasing tone makes it sound like a challenge, even if he knows he’s got it all under control.

Tease and Walk Away: Shadow is notorious for saying something teasing and then walking away before you can respond. He loves leaving you with no time to react, knowing you’ll be caught up thinking about what he said.

Messing with Your Routine: If he sees you’re in the middle of something important, Shadow might deliberately distract you with a harmless comment or playful taunt, just to see how easily you can lose focus.

"You Could Use Some Help": If you’re struggling with something, Shadow will occasionally offer his help in a teasing way. “You could use a lot of help,” he’ll say, just to make you roll your eyes before he steps in to assist.

Becoming More Touchy: After spending more time together and getting to know you, Shadow begins to show more affection in a subtle, touchy way. He may rest a hand on your shoulder or casually wrap an arm around your waist when you're close. It's his way of expressing how much he's grown to care for you, but in typical Shadow fashion, he’s still a little reserved about it. These moments are rare, but they show his soft side emerging as he grows more comfortable with you.

So... i fear after watching the movie I have fallen a little for shadow, like i have been with the fandom for along time since i have played that games as a child but wheeeewwww movie shadow did sum to me or maybe it was the final push...

-Caty writes

[rxmxa]

The Leo-Aquarius Axis Redefined pt. 2 ⚡ 🧪⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Part One on the Leo-Aquarius Axis (Good to Read for Reference)

I was watching some intense video footage with my friend after something really brutal and chaotic happened in my neighborhood. Watching it alone was overwhelming because there was so much violence and chaos happening back to back. But then I re-watched it with my Aquarius stellium friend. And when I say stellium, I mean stellium. This girl is an Aquarius Sun, Mercury, Mars, Venus, Rising, with a Capricorn Moon and Uranus in the 10th house. She is genuinely the smartest person I know.

What I didn’t fully realize until that moment was just how good Aquarius energy is at processing information. Aquarius is an air sign, which means it thrives on mental challenges and intellectual stimulation. But it’s also fixed, which gives it a steady and sustained focus that doesn’t waver. Symbolically, Aquarius is the Water Bearer. It pours out knowledge, deep and distilled, offering it to the world. In moments of chaos, it feels like Aquarius processes everything at light speed, distills the important parts, and hands you the answers in such a breezy and nonchalant manner all like, “Oh, you didn’t notice that incredibly specific detail?”

While we were watching the footage, she kept pausing to point things out. She would say, “Look here, see his hand? Notice how he flinched.” Then she would rewind and say, “Listen again, did you hear what he said? He said ‘xyz.’” By the end of the night, mostly thanks to her, we had pieced together the timeline of what happened.

It was a heavy experience, but it also got me thinking about something I had written before about the Leo-Aquarius axis.

In that post, I said:

“If you are struggling to shine and develop your self-expression (Leo), look at the opposite of that (Aquarius), where you might need to release and let go of pressure. Especially internal pressure, since air sign energy is so connected to our thoughts and intellect. This sets the stage for success that feels aligned with your most genuine self.”

At the time, I was so focused on this idea of detachment leading to success that I wrote:

“The 11th house (Aquarius) rules your profits from your career, while the 5th house (Leo) rules your creativity and hobbies. Think about how many people have created art (5th house) without worrying about success or money, only to find widespread acclaim and rewards (11th house). In interviews, they always say, ‘I never imagined this would happen. I never imagined I would reach so many people.’ Why? Because they had detached. And that mindset can take you far.”

While that’s absolutely true, I realized I hadn’t fully considered the depth of this axis.

Aquarius isn’t just about letting go and hoping for the best. You don’t magically detach and suddenly see success show up in your Leo house.

Yes, you need to release expectations in your Aquarius house. But Aquarius isn’t about not caring. It’s about caring deeply for the process itself. It’s about learning for the sake of learning. Aquarius is the mad scientist energy, the inventor, the one who experiments and explores because it’s fascinating and because it feeds them.

Wherever Aquarius is in your chart, that’s where you need to step into that energy. It’s where you become the mad scientist, endlessly curious and driven to learn and discover. You absorb information, try new things, and gather knowledge for the sake of it. That process becomes the fuel that allows your Leo house to shine.

Aquarius prepares and strategizes, and Leo performs and shines. Success aligns when both energies are flowing together.

Aquarius builds the blueprint. It is the blueprint. Then Leo distributes it to the world. That’s where success or even monetization comes in. But it’s always at your pace, and always through doing what you love.

How I Applied This in My Own Life

This realization hit me on such a personal level because I have struggled with 6th house themes my entire life. My weight, my routines, building habits, staying consistent. etc. No matter how hard I tried to force structure into my day-to-day life, it just never clicked. I would start strong, burn out, and then spiral into frustration.

But when I stopped trying to force myself into systems that didn’t fit me and leaned into my Aquarius 12th house energy, everything shifted. I stopped seeing my habits as rigid checklists and started treating them like little experiments. I became curious, open to trial and error, and focused on the process instead of the outcome.

Suddenly, my 6th house started to thrive. My health (gut health, mental health, lost 15 pounds) improved, my daily routines felt sustainable (set boundaries at work), and consistency became something I didn’t have to force anymore. It became second nature to be this new version of me.

The Leo-Aquarius Axis Guide

If you’ve ever felt torn between wanting to shine like Leo and strategize like Aquarius, my guide will show you how to:

Identify your Aquarius Lab and your Leo Stage in your chart

Create a sustainable cycle of preparation (aqua) and performance (leo)

Use both energies to create confidence, clarity, and success

get the guide here: ✨ [Mastering the Leo-Aquarius Axis] ⚡ 🧪⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Con mucho amor, Ramona 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[thesummerstorms]

You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

[lesbiansforboromir]

Alright, I was holding off for journalistic integrity but now that I've seen the WotR film I can make posts about it without restraint.

Jesus christ the racial politics of this film are atrocious. Some character might as well just tell Wulf 'not to play the race card'. Wulf is a liberal snowflake who blames racism for all his troubles and can't pull himself up by his bootstraps and he is also brown-skinned and obsessively pursues our PORCLAIN white dainty-drawn female protagonist with both romantic and murderous intent. Oppression of dunlendings by the Rohirrim exists only in Wulf's head apparently, though it can be tasted in every spat 'dunlending' perjorative that comes from Helm or Haleth's mouth. But Hera has absolutely no racism within her of course! She refuses Wulf because she doesnt want to marry anyone and Wulf just assumes it's because his dunlending blood disgusts her, so entitled of him!

But also maybe the racism is '''justified'''? If it exists? Which it doesn't! But IF it did, don't worry because ONCE AGAIN all the dunlendings are just greedy, clutching, unwashed, skull wearing, violent barbarians with no unique culture to speak of and no reasons to be making war on Rohan except to sieze what isn't theirs (ignoring the fact that it totally was theirs until Rohan seized it from them and OH BOY are we ignorin' that) And the only dunlending we see not frothing at the mouth for violence or showing any introspective depth at all is General Targg who is the mouthpiece with which we get to hear 'the girl (Hera) is right' whereupon he is promptly killed by Wulf.

Oh but of course, what else could Helm have done? Freca was some greedy FAT man (boy does everyone love calling him fat, happy to lean into THAT aspect of canon) whose lands were too prosperous for his own good (hang on isn't keeping your lands prosperous the platonic ideal of lordship?) And he called a 'Witan' (no he didn't, he came to one of the regular councils of lords that Helm called himself) just to make a scene about how Helm was going to marry Hera to a lord of gondor which is bad because Gondor has some nebulous hold over Rohan so Hera should marry Wulf instead (literally none of that, Freca simply asked Helm to wed his daughter to Wulf, his son, a completely normal and legitimate political strategy to secure a better relationship with the King's family since Helm already mistrusted him for having dunlending blood. Freca is a lord of Rohan, he is rich, he traces his ancestry back to King Freawine, this could not be a more reasonable suggestion in canon.)

SO OBVIOUSLY Helm had to get angry and call Freca fat again (true he did do that) and THEN claim that Freca only wanted his throne (there was never any suggestion of this in the books, it was just the offer of marriage which insulted Helm) to which Freca answered "Old kings that refuse a proffered staff may fall on their knees," and Helm is like okay lets take this outside.

And now THIS change is actually so important in understanding the extreme nature of the Rohir/Helm favouritism that is the main focus of this film. In the film Helm pretty much immediately takes Freca outside, he reassures Frealaf that Freca just needs to be shown his place, this is the only way to settle the matter, if he doesn't embarass him here then Freca will try to take his crown and slay his family apparently, his hunch ig etc etc. Freca punches Helm three times in full view of the whole of Edoras including Freca's two men who came with him, then Helm punches him back and he is knocked out cold and dead by the time he hits the ground. Film!Helm does not realise he has done this and tells Freca to get up, Wulf realises his father is dead and threatens Helm with revenge, swords are draw against him which he tries to calm before Wulf attacks him. Helm incapacitates Wulf, his sons draw THEIR swords and Helm exiles Wulf for drawing his sword on his king. Messy right? Like not a good thing to do, generally brawling with your lords is a bad idea full stop, but if you fear for the lives of your children then idk maybe it's excusable? And then it's just an unfortunate series of events right? And Freca was rude and insulting to a king in his own halls, heat of the moment etc etc

I feel so comfortable in telling you that Helm murders Freca in cold blood in the books, fully intending that to be the outcome.

He does not take him outside initially, Book!Helm tells Freca that this marriage dispute isn't important and they will deal with it later. And then;

When the council was over, Helm stood up and laid his great hand on Freca’s shoulder, saying: "The king does not permit brawls in his house, but men are freer outside"; and he forced Freca to walk before him out from Edoras into the field. To Freca’s men that came up he said: "Be off ! We need no hearers. We are going to speak of a private matter alone. Go and talk to my men!" And they looked and saw that the king’s men and his friends far outnumbered them, and they drew back. "Now, Dunlending," said the king, "you have only Helm to deal with, alone and unarmed. But you have said much already, and it is my turn to speak. Freca, your folly has grown with your belly. You talk of a staff! If Helm dislikes a crooked staff that is thrust on him, he breaks it. So!" With that he smote Freca such a blow with his fist that he fell back stunned, and died soon after. Helm then proclaimed Freca’s son and near kin the king’s enemies; and they fled, for at once Helm sent many men riding to the west marches.

(Appendices, 'The House of Eorl', emphasis mine)

I think we can all agree that forcing someone out of your city, isolating them away from their fellows with threats of violence, telling them you will break them, killing them in one blow and then proclaiming their kin your enemies and forcing them to flee to escape a murderous pursuit, is pretty clearly premeditated murder. There is not much nuance here, Freca tresspassed over a line with Helm that Dunlendings are not allowed to cross and Helm killed him for it.

And listen like, the description of this whole story within the appendices is barely more than three pages. This is not an obscure missable aspect of the tale, nor is it outside of what rights they had to adapt. The choice was made, actively, ONCE AGAIN by the Warner Bros cinematic universe makers, to drastically alter book events in order to sand down any immorality within Rohan's narrative, especially where the Dunlendings are concerned. And in the end the only 'mistake' Helm is allowed to learn and grow from is some nebulous and trite 'not believing enough in his daughter' schpiel, which needs to be the subject of a whole 'nother post actually.

And what's agonising is they COULD have done it like they were so close, there are multiple moments where me and my friend watching were like struck!! With grief! Over how impactful this moment could have been if only the racism actually existed as an acknowledged theme in the story. If only it was something Hera had to come to terms with, if only IT was the true driver of these horrors to the point where it's Avatar, Hera's father, a man who loves her and whom she has loved all her life, turns into a cold icey ghost of brutality, far more vicious and barbaric than the people he so reviles, and reveals to her the terrible truth of his actions and motivations. It's agony I tell you.

Anyway I did not like the film.

[lyslsstuff]

carcar pregnancy announcement to the Sainz family | fluff | 914 words based on this reblog by @pitchcom :

edit : I made a monumental mistake, you will never know what it is now.

Carlos had always been a little apprehensive when it came to delivering important news to his family, particularly to his father. He loved his dad, of course, but their relationship hadn’t always been smooth sailing. The first few years of his career had been especially rocky—misunderstandings, miscommunications, and the pressure of expectations often left them at odds.

But things had changed. Slowly, they’d found common ground. Conversations became less tense, moments of laughter more frequent, and they learned to truly understand each other. Still, Carlos knew that his father had a way of delivering his thoughts bluntly, even when he meant well. It was a quality Carlos both admired and dreaded, especially now. Because this news? This wasn’t like anything they’d discussed before.

Carlos wasn’t sure how his father would react. Would he be happy? Confused? Angry? The possibilities weighed on him like a storm cloud.

But Oscar, his ever-reliable boyfriend, was there to weather the storm by his side.

The couple had flown to Madrid to celebrate Christmas with Carlos’s family. The festive air in the Sainz household was as warm and welcoming as ever. Senior and the rest of the family greeted them with open arms, all smiles and chatter. They were especially delighted to see Oscar again, though they couldn't resist teasing him mercilessly. His terrible Spanish accent, his quiet demeanor, even his choice of clothes—all were fair game for Carlos’s mother and sisters.

Carlos, of course, was ready to step in whenever Oscar needed him. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a sharp remark to deflect the teasing—it was clear to everyone how protective he was of his boyfriend. Oscar didn’t seem to mind the attention much, though, and often laughed along with the jokes.

But beneath the laughter and joy, Carlos’s mind was elsewhere. The news he needed to share loomed over him like a shadow. The words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come out. He felt a familiar wave of doubt. How could he even begin to tell them?

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Carlos sat curled up on the couch with Oscar. He leaned his head against Oscar’s shoulder, feeling the weight of his unspoken secret pressing down on him.

Oscar, ever perceptive, stroked Carlos’s back soothingly. “You’ve been quiet all day,” he murmured. “Thinking about how to tell them?”

Carlos nodded, biting his lip. “I just... I don’t know how to say it. What if they don’t take it well?”

Oscar kissed the top of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ve got an idea. Trust me, it’s brilliant.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Brilliant, huh? What kind of brilliant?”

“You’ll see,” Oscar teased, grinning. “You’ll be impressed, I promise.”

Carlos chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss him. Whatever Oscar had planned, he trusted him completely.

Christmas dinner was a lively affair, as always. The Sainz family gathered around the table, enjoying Reyes’s impeccable cooking and the festive decorations that filled the room. The atmosphere was joyful, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Carlos tried to focus on the moment, but his nerves wouldn’t let him. The news he was carrying felt like a weight in his chest, growing heavier with every passing minute. Beside him, Oscar reached under the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Carlos turned to him, startled, only to see Oscar wink before standing up from his seat.

The chatter at the table quieted as everyone turned to look at him. Oscar held a small box in his hands as he walked over to Senior, who eyed him with curiosity.

“Mister Sainz,” Oscar began. “I know it’s not Christmas just yet, but I wanted to give you an early gift.”

Senior raised an eyebrow, glancing at the small box Oscar extended toward him. “An early gift?” he repeated, clearly intrigued. “Well, let’s see what this is about.”

He carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box. Carlos’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure everyone could hear it. What had Oscar done? What was in that box? Please, he silently begged, let it not be something ridiculous—

Senior reached into the box and pulled out a pair of tiny, baby-sized socks. His expression shifted from confusion to surprise, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at the miniature socks in his hand.

The room fell silent. Everyone was looking at Senior, then at Carlos and Oscar, waiting for an explanation. Carlos swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement.

“You’re—” Senior began, turning to Carlos, who was still seated, his cheeks flushed. “You’re really—?”

"I am," Carlos nodded, his voice slightly shaky. "You’re going to be a grandfather.”

The room erupted into chaos. Carlos’s mother let out a delighted squeal, rushing over to hug him. His sisters followed suit, bombarding him with questions and congratulations. Senior stood, pulling Carlos into a tight embrace.

“This,” he said, holding Carlos close, “is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received.”

Carlos felt a wave of relief wash over him. The fear, the doubt, all of it melted away as he was surrounded by the love and joy of his family. He glanced at Oscar, who was watching the scene unfold with a fond smile.

Carlos reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Oscar—or the happiness they were about to share—but he was endlessly grateful.

[theambitiouswoman]

how do you deal with shame? bc i suffered with severe depression and im just getting my own apartment at 30 years old. i still have no degree, the job i go to in ashamed everyday even though it pays my bills and take care of my kids because i see everyone who i went to high school with graduated and some got their masters. im ashamed of what i been through and ashamed of where im in at my life and im carrying deep deep depression and shame because i feel like im not enough and embarrassed of where im at because i know i could’ve did more with my life.

I really want to answer this because I also remember feeling behind at one point and I definitely remember my friends comparing themselves to me because we didn’t make the same life decisions.

Just want to warn you I’m going to give you some compassion combined with a little tough love.

I’m really, REALLY sorry you’re feeling this way. No matter how different your life looks to others, it’s your life. It’s easy to compare yourself to people who seem to have it all figured out, but their paths aren’t yours. Just because you are seeing someone during the good times in their lives, doesn’t mean it will always be that way or that it won’t be for you when the time is right.

I remember feeling so much judgment because all my friends were married, had serious boyfriends, or kids. Back then, I’d leave our dinners in tears, feeling like a failure. Looking back now, the pressure I felt seems almost comical, but it was painful at the time. For context, I’ve been engaged more than once, yet I wasn’t ready to settle. Now, many of those women are divorced and starting over, often without financial independence, while I’m at a high point in my life and considering settling down on my own terms.

The lesson here is that life isn’t a race or a checklist. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t have to follow a timeline. Some people hit their stride at 20, others at 30, 40, or beyond—and that’s okay. Life is meant to be experienced, not rushed. The lessons we learn along the way shape us. Society’s timelines and standards are just that—standards. You don’t have to follow them to live a fulfilling, meaningful life.

Depression is incredibly hard to deal with, and it’s not something I take lightly. But since you’re committed to working on yourself, it’s so important to remind yourself to keep pushing forward. That said, I think you’re being way too hard on yourself right now. Who wouldn’t feel overwhelmed? But let’s take a step back—you have your own apartment for the first time, which is incredible! You have a job that allows you to provide for your kids, putting food on the table and showing up as a parent who loves them deeply. How lucky are they to have you?

From my perspective, you’re incredibly strong. You’ve faced depression and still found the courage to keep building yourself up. That’s no small feat. Don’t let negative thoughts get in your way—practice reframing them. Instead of focusing on what you feel is lacking, focus on how far you’ve come and the amazing things you’re doing right now. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

You may not like where your life is now, but you have to realize that it is under your control. If you want to change your life now, today, you can. Your life will start to change when you yourself commit to change. And that starts with your thoughts. Work on your perspective. Don’t beat yourself up for what could have happened or didn’t happen because you’re wasting even more time for absolutely nothing. You feel like you’ve wasted years, why would you want to continue wasting any more?

Shame often stems from the story we tell ourselves, so try to shift that narrative. You wouldn’t shame your friends for struggling; you’d remind them of their resilience. Focus on small wins— change your perspective. Start focusing on showing gratitude for the things you do have and what you’ve overcome. Gratitude for everything and anything. Gratitude attracts miracles and abundance. I know this sounds dumb or unrealistic, but it’s true. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to try.

I’m very proud of you and you can do so much more, anything you want if you just had a little bit of faith in yourself. Your worth isn’t defined by what you’ve been through or what you’ve accomplished. It’s defined by the fact that you’re here, trying and pushing forward. That alone makes you more than enough.

[theinfinitedivides]

Regarding your recent post, I'm not even shocked that a certain section of this fandom are still trying to pretend Assad fans are any more anti black than Sam fans. I've seen plenty of anti blackness from all corners of this fandom, from both Lestat and Armand fans. But somehow weirdos think Sam fans are woke and progressive in comparison? there were Samstat fans who wrote disgusting fanfic of Louis calling other black people 'gorillas' for fuck's sake and specifically to prop up Lestat. There were Loustaters who thought it was a brilliant idea to go to a slave plantation so they can pose for their OTP photos. The Lestat fans who gloated about Claudia finally getting what she deserved, until they decided to use her as a prop for lestat sympathy post s2. But it's convenient for them to focus all that energy and blame solely on Assad and all his fans, because it suits the narrative they've already developed in their minds.

When people were making rape jokes about Assad's character, I recognized some of those blogs. One of them was a Loustater who I distinctly remember talking about Assad derisively. Because according to this fan, he's supposedly replacing Jacob next season. Which is an insane take like these people do know who next season about right? It's supposed to be a TVL adaptation and Armand does have appearances in that story. But here's the thing, they don't mention Sam at all. Now why would they claim Assad (a brown actor who has already has been sidelined repeatedly in marketing and nominations) has more potential to replace Jacob and not Sam, who Rolin already stated was going to be the lead in s3? When AMC has already pushed for more samstat presence in s2?

Let's be real here, some of these people live vicariously through the Jacob/Sam dynamic and the validation they feel from it that they are resentful of obstacles to that. Even if it's another actor of color potentially sharing more scenes with Sam in the future. This is also why they took that rpf poll so seriously ("if you don't vote for my preferred coworker ship, you're anti black") It wasn't just this blog, literally other people who were downplaying the racism for the awards snubs were very similar in that they are very invested in jam conspiracies and/or more lenient towards Sam and other white actors on the show. This bias has been called out by several black fans who I follow.

IWTV fandom directs a very noticable amount of vitriol towards the cast of color on this show. And yes, this includes the Muslim brown actor who fans see as the source of all their problems apparently. Fans behave like they can pick or choose what is racism or not with the marketing and nominations. Jacob, Delainey and Assad have all been subjected to all kinds of nasty remarks that are racist and colorist before this season even began.

It is possible to care about both anti blackness and racism against South Asians. It's absolutely important that both are addressed. But I guess these fans think that only one of these issues matter while continuing to bootlick a white corporation. It's sad and transparent what's really going on here.

A SECOND IWTV FANDOM READ HAS HIT MY INBOX. I REPEAT A SECOND IWTV FANDOM READ HAS HIT MY INBOX. someone call the fire department y'all trying to burn down my house with this one hold on

first off. idk where all of you are coming from with these good good takes but keep making them and keep reading the hypocritical fuckers in this fandom for filth while you're at it bc you are right and true and correct. we have seen shit on all sides bc having your pet character to hide behind doesn't change the fact that your ass is racist, but there's something about the racism from so-called Sam fans that is like. how do you even come up with that. how do you look at what you just said and think that's ok to post. and most times it is about making the South Asian Muslim actor the big bad, just like how here in the US racist pasty ass motherfuckers hear 'terrorist' and immediately conjure up images of folks from the SWANA region/South Asian subcontinent. it's othering. he's not like us so we can use him as a punching bag and pin everything we think is wrong in the fandom on him

living vicariously through the Jam dynamic................................ anon truer words have never been spoken. i get it. maybe they latched on too hard to the unholy trinity of the Loustat + Claudia family in the early days of s1 before that went down the drain and mother and daughter headed off to Paris and so they love seeing Jacob and Sam interact for promos irl. for those Jam fans who might see this listen to me. i am holding y'all very gently rn. go outside and touch grass there is no fucking reason whatsoever for you to get so delusional about two coworkers/work besties that you will use that to give the corporation propping up the white half in content he is not meant to be submitted for over the other members of the cast a free-for-all pass. no. it's like using fly swatters in this place the amount of messages i've had to delete from my inbox this week bc they all start with some variant of 'but Sam' and i do not have the spoons to answer that foolishness again

jumping all around your ask in terms of the order in which i make these points so i apologize but heading back to the Loustat blogs that have it out for Assad for whatever reason (specifically the ones making SA jokes about Armand)—i remember seeing that post and just being instantly horrified. i'm talking cold sweats level of freaked the fuck out. just bc you think AMC is going to use the shift in main vamp focus to possibly give Armand slightly more screentime that means he's going to replace Louis and therefore you can now wish things i wouldn't wish on my worst enemy on him. what the actual fuck. in my mind there is a spectrum and this shit is on one end and the rabid Marius stans are on the other and they are both equivalently bad. those two are shaking hands in the center over ways to violate and overlook Brown bodies and ykw i'm tired of not naming names so i'll name the ones who made these statements in the first place (note: i'm putting them below the cut at the very end of this ask bc i don't want anyone to be triggered by that kind of vileness as a jumpscare when i still have things left to say. not worth it.)

ykw honestly the obvious attempt to get Black and South Asian IWTV fans to split down the middle over whose blorbo/actor experiences more racism is disgusting. it's just like when they're always trying to get the diaspora (mainly African-Americans + Caribbean people of African descent, although i have seen them get the West African brethren involved) to start infighting over stupid shit bitch when the cops pull us both over they're not going to ask for a geography lesson. they won't ask us if we immigrated or if our family's been here since before the fucking Civil War. they'll shoot us both and call it an encounter where the two of us were resisting and they feared for their fucking life, like they always do. kicking Assad to the curb to lift up Jacob or vice-versa is not going to get you brownie points with the other infinite amount of racists on this hellsite it'll just buy you time until they decide to kick you to the curb when you open your mouth (if you open your mouth) and point out anything about their blorbo + the way AMC is choosing to promote said blorbo. frankly not even bootlicking anymore we're deepthroating that shit all the way to the back no gag reflex. get up. your Islamophobic xenophobic posting and 'pick a side' propaganda is not the slay you think it is

(note: the Armand SA post in question is below this marker. if you think a trigger warning applies, it probably does. stay safe. don't open this shit if you can't handle it. i'll drop the usernames in the comments for extra precaution regardless)

i had to unblock their asses to get this and then i blocked them right back. fuck me for even having to see this again but i did it for a good cause

[cognitiveoverload]

Basic human decency – 1/4 (platonic Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader)

summary: You're the surgeon who operated Hotch, and you're annoyed that he immediately starts working after waking up.

“I hoped you would be knocked out a little longer,” you say with a playful smile as you enter his room, stopping at the foot of his bed. He stops typing and raises an eyebrow in question, which makes you shake your head in disapprovement. “Dr. Young warned me that you’re a workaholic, but I didn’t think you would be working so soon after a surgery.”

Hotchner let out a sigh and put down the phone to focus on this conversation. “It’s important. I can’t just lie here and do nothing,” he replies.

Nodding, you put the chart on the bed next to his feet, then move a little closer to him. “Look, you need to rest. When you were brought in, things didn’t seem serious, so no one talked to you about this, but due to that complication, and after such a serious surgery, I’d rather see you taking it easy for now,” you explain with a kind smile.

All it takes is one look to know a lot about him. You heard that he’s working for the FBI, it’s clear that he’s a born leader, but that mixed with a stubborn attitude can be dangerous in hospitals. As a doctor, you give instructions to patients, expecting them to do as you say, but people like him often ignore these orders. If it was up to you, you would take away every device that can help him work, but you have no right to do that. 

The best you can do now is try to reason with him. Well, seeing the doubtful expression on his face, you’d probably have a better chance convincing a brick wall.

“I’m just making a few phone calls,” he tries with a smile.

“Work calls?” For a few moments, he watches you with a blank expression, but then it all changes and suddenly he looks like a kid who was caught doing something wrong. “You have a son, right?”

He nods in response. “Jack. He’s six,” he replies, sounding a little unsure. “Why?”

Your attention is drawn to the door where a nurse waves at you, so you quickly signal her that you’ll be there in a moment, then return your attention to the patient. “It’s the summer break, right? Why don’t you ask someone to bring him here? You would have the chance to spend more time with him, and you wouldn’t spend that time working. It’s a win-win to me,” you offer with a laugh.

There’s a strange gleam in his brown eyes as he considers your idea. While he thinks about this, you go to pick up his chart, then flash one last smile at him before telling him to rest and that you’ll be back soon. You even dare to jokingly threaten him that you would confiscate his phone, to which he replies with a silent nod of understanding. But there’s something under the surface, something that just doesn’t click into place, yet you can’t figure out what it could be. 

Shaking off this feeling, you leave the room and get lost in work again. After checking on a few patients, you have another small surgery, which manages to take your mind off this for now. In fact, the rest of your shift passes without thinking about the agent again, but then, about half an hour before you can finally leave, you find yourself at the nurses’ station across his room. You don’t notice it at first, only when Dr. Young stops next to you with a teasing grin on his face. 

When you ask him what it’s all about, he just shrugs and points at the room with his pen. “Well, well, well, young lady, you are officially a miracle worker. According to my sources he stopped working after you left,” he explains with a kind smile as he looks at you. 

You follow the pen and notice that Hotchner isn’t alone, there is a young boy sitting on the edge of his bed, while a few people are standing around it, deep in a conversation. Something tells you they’re his colleagues, partly because you can see one of them carrying a weapon, but they are all smiling and laughing, it’s surely not work-related. So he did listen to you. Good. That’s exactly what you wanted. 

“Let’s hope it stays this way until he’s discharged,” you note quietly, but while you want to say something else, the words don’t come out. Because through the window you can see him turn to you, as if he could sense you are standing there, watching him, and you could swear he flashes a thankful smile at you. And then you jump from the surprise, because Lisa, one of the nurses, holds up an envelope in front of your face. “What’s this?” 

She shrugs with a teasing smile, then bumps her shoulder into yours as she hands it to you. “Oh, just a message I was asked to give to you. And it came with that bouquet of flowers. No big deal,” she says happily. 

As you open it, you watch as she and Dr. Young leave your side, giving you space to read the card. It’s a gift from Hotchner, and he used this way to thank you for making him understand that he can allow himself to retreat and recover instead of jumping back into work, possibly stressing himself out because of it. That’s all. It’s just a short message, but it’s surely one of those small things that make your job a hundred times better. 

As you look back at him, you see him watching you again, so you raise the card and nod in his way, to which he responds with a smile. And this catches his colleagues' attention, because they all turn to you suddenly, which makes you flee the scene before they could find you to ask questions. Maybe it’s time to go home now. But first, you scribble a short thank you message on a piece of paper, and ask a nearby nurse to give it to him once he’s alone again. There are no questions, but you can see the knowing grin on his lips that make you roll your eyes. 

This isn’t flirting.

This is basic human decency.

[coiledqueen]

ooc. life update. (please read tags)

On Wednesday evening, I suddenly and unexpectedly lost a very close friend of mine. We had been friends for over a decade. Graduations and 21st and 30th birthdays and so many trips, Discord calls, Showdown battles, and conversations under the stars. Those memories become even more precious to me, now.

As I sat down and tried to write yesterday, I was struck by how impermanent everything felt. I just couldn't do it. How many threads have I spun here? How many blogs have I deleted? How many words have I written, to how many people? Does it mean anything? (Silly, unproductive thoughts...but could I have been there more for him? Invested my time differently? There's always that lingering grain of guilt.)

Even so, I still think nihilism sucks. Moments like these make me reckon with life's fragility, but I believe that very fragility is what makes its wonderful experiences, memories, and connections all the more valuable. Over the years, my friend taught me that life was meant to be boldly lived, without regrets. I choose to focus on that lesson and our happy memories together, and those are what I'll carry forward with me. And I know I'll be okay.

Even so, my world feels emptier in this moment. With the holidays so close, everyone is feeling it, and we're rallying together--but it's a bit confusing and difficult. Writing is a needed distraction right now, but please understand if I'm slow with IMs. Please understand that I don't want to talk about this situation further.

And I want to apologize for putting all this rambling on the dashboard--it'll probably be gone soon. Thank you so much for letting me get this weight off my chest. This space--the people, the stories, everything--means so much to me. After pushing through that fleeting moment of existentialism the other day, I don't regret a single word I've written. It's been so much fun, and that's the important part. So, thank you.

Pass the love on to someone you care about. They might need it.

💜 Dan.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Do you think Rick ever attempted to tell Michonne how he felt about her? I wondered if he tried and got scared or someone interrupted them. How do you think Rick trying would have gone?

I really like this question too! I can absolutely see there being moments where Rick wanted to tell her how he feels and maybe even came close to before something stopped him. Since in TOWL he admitted he didn’t know what to do about being in love with her for a while there, I think those mints ended up being pretty important in helping him finally figure out how to let Michonne know how he feels about her.

This post actually feels like the perfect place to put my Part Two of what I think happened with Rick and Michonne during that time jump between No Way Out and The Next World because I address this question some more in my play-by-play. So this is Part Two - what I think happened in that time jump to make Rick and Michonne be like this the next time we see them in 6.10 ⬇️💗:

As always, my extra self has to start right from where they left off in No Way Out, which includes one of my favorite TWD episode endings when Rick speaks to Carl and then Carl ever-so-lightly takes his hand.

I’ve always loved the staging of that scene too with Michone holding Judith right outside the room. It’s such a visual confirmation of the family unit they are. And I can envision that when Rick notices that Carl took his hand he calls Michonne in to tell her about Carl’s movement and they're really happy and relieved and it’s a moment where it’s pretty hard to ignore how much the two of them feel like a mom and dad. 

So then I’d think that Carl probably has to stay at the infirmary for a certain amount of time for Denise to monitor him in the earliest stages of his recovery. And Rick and Michonne visit every single day to be with Carl and help look after him. I feel like the community probably agreed that after NWO, Rick needs a little break from leadership so that he can focus on tending to Carl. So during this time, others step up around the community while Rick and Michonne have a lot more time to tend to Carl and be at home with Judith. I think spending all that time together really tightens Rick and Michonne’s bond even more.

And one of the biggest things I’m convinced we were robbed of seeing during this time jump is the increase in Richonne’s physical touch. I think Rick and Michonne got a lot more comfortable with showing affection through touch during this time. Nothing blatantly romantic of course but like those little low fives or nudges on the couch. They start doing those types of touches a lot more often. Along with ramping up the flirtation and the little glances that suggest this dynamic isn’t nearly as platonic as they’ve tried to act like it is because there’s some real yearning and desire evident during this time.

I can picture that there’s one night where maybe Michonne puts Judith to bed while Rick is downstairs putting away dishes and then on the way to her room they both just end up sitting on the couch and staying up late talking - something they subconsciously might have been more hesitant to do when Carl was in the house prior considering the whole son’s best friend/best friend’s dad thing. But while Carl is still in the infirmary, they end up feeling a bit more comfortable to spend this time together at night. And those nighttime chats then become a staple part of their daily routine that Rick and Michonne both really look forward to.

Like it’s so a part of their routine that even when they’re tired after a long day, they go to the couch instead of going to bed because they want to make sure they still get that time to decompress together.

And I think their conversations just flow so easily and they operate so organically as best friends, while also knowing it’s getting harder and harder to act like all they are is best friends. Especially when Rick decides to officially remove his wedding ring during this time - something I imagine Michonne did notice.

I feel like Judith also starts really clinging to Michonne like a mom during this time. Like I always love it when the baby who plays Judith reaches for Michonne during that 6.10 scene on the porch and even sounds like she says Michonne’s name. I always like to think that Judith feels so bonded to Michonne by that point.

And maybe Rick and Michonne even like to make predictions on when they think Judith will start crawling as they often like to smile over watching her "practice" on the baby monitor during their nighttime chats.

I can picture that on one of those nights, Rick thanks Michonne for saving his and Carl’s life when Ron had that gun on him and notes how she’s saved his life quite a few times and he feels like he owes her. And she’d tell him that he doesn’t owe her and again the silence after is so clearly her “because I love you and you’ve given me a whole family” but she doesn’t say all that and Rick doesn’t profess his love yet either. They just let the nice moment be. 

So then there’s the portion of time when Carl can finally come home and Denise teaches Rick and Michonne what they’ll need to do with Carl home, like how to wrap his bandages and do physical therapy. With Carl home, I picture that Rick and Michonne get a good routine going of how to take care of him and help him during this time of adjusting to his new life with one eye. It's all just even more confirmation that the two of them parent and operate like a well-oiled machine.

Some days are smoother than others because I think Carl would understandably have some days where the recovery is frustrating for him. But Carl is a fighter too so overall he’s resilient and keeps a good spirit during recovery. And Rick and Michonne try to make things as smooth as possible for him and they’re able to lean on each other when it’s hard or emotional to see Carl struggling. They’re both just so grateful Carl is alive. 

I think the four of them would have family dinner together every night and Carl can even peep that the bonding Rick and Michonne have done lately is so clearly because they’re into each other. Like I just know that the look Carl gave Michonne the morning after she was with Rick has to do with Carl being like I knew I was picking up on the right vibes in this house all this time. 😂

In my mind, I imagine that Michonne is best at changing the bandages so she often is the one who does that for Carl in the mornings. I think one of those mornings she’s getting ready for the day and realizes she’s out of toothpaste. So, wearing her robe and towel, she initially is going to ask Carl to borrow his before bandaging him but then she sees Rick’s bedroom door is open so she just asks him.

And Rick does have some toothpaste left and gives it to her while trying very hard to just seem casual about her showing up in her robe the first time lol. But he’s definitely not mad at the sight he sees. 😋

And then soon it just becomes a thing for Michonne to borrow Rick’s toothpaste in the mornings during their family's little morning routine.

Rick and Michonne still of course want to contribute to the community so Rick starts going back out on those runs with Daryl and Michonne takes on some guard shifts at the gate. Once again, I think Daryl is observant that Rick has been real cheery lately and he knows that, on top of the good news of Carl surviving and the community proving they’re capable of surviving too, it’s whatever Rick has going with Michonne that plays a big part in why he’s smiling and snapping to music on their supply runs.

I also think on Rick and Daryl's supply runs, Rick would always somehow find ways to bring up Michonne in their conversations - because he’s a man in love. And Rick thinks he’s bringing Michonne up casually and subtly but it’s not either of those things to Daryl lol. But again, Daryl mostly keeps those observations to himself, even tho the thought "if this idiot doesn't make a damn move on her already" likely crossed his mind at minimum three times.

There was a time when I would have thought that maybe Rick never outright told Daryl that he had fallen for Michonne pre-canon. But honestly seeing the way Rick is a guy who can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, I wouldn't be surprised if maybe he did open up to Daryl more straightforwardly about how he's in love with his son's best friend and doesn't exactly know how to best proceed. And Daryl is a man of few words but I'd imagine that even the few words he'd offer up about the situation would be somehow helpful or reassuring to his brother.

And then, even with Carl home, Rick and Michonne definitely still continue to have their nighttime chats between just the two of them. Even tho now maybe sometimes Carl will come downstairs for water or a snack and be like 'you guys are still up talking?' 🤭

I do think there could have been one night where they were talking and laughing, and everything in Rick wanted to just tell Michonne how he feels and even lean in and kiss her. Because again, he’s aware during this time that he’s in love with her.

Like maybe there’s a moment where Michonne even asks about why he stopped wearing the ring, sorta like how she asked Carl why he stopped wearing the sherrif hat in season 4. And Rick is about to say something about how it didn’t feel right anymore to wear the ring while he’s in love with someone else and he’d turn that into the moment he tells Michonne how he feels about her…But I bet they do have something that interrupts his chance. Like maybe Judith starts crying or Carl or Daryl walks into the kitchen or something so they sorta have to just let the moment pass again.

While Michonne would have reacted really positively to Rick professing his feelings for her at any point during this time jump, I think the actual timing of how Richonne got together ended up being perfect for them. After all the build-up of their slow burn, I think it’s better that their first officially romantic moment didn’t have to be a whole conversation but rather them just leading with their hearts and being passionately in the moment, rather than Rick perhaps directly telling her he’s fallen for her and maybe nervously adding something like “if that’s too much right now I understand” like the talk they had in 4.11. 

But I think these unseen time jump exchanges where Rick hoped to “find his moment," is also part of why Rick had that look that he had just before he kissed Michonne in 6.10. In that scene, I always feel like he looked at her like I think this might finally be my uninterrupted chance to kiss her and oh wow she looks like she wants me to.

I also feel like some of Rick’s hesitation to make a move before 6.10 was because he really didn’t want to potentially ruin what they have now by moving too fast or escalating in a way that Michonne may not want. So I think he just decided in his mind that if ever she gives the green light then he won’t hold back in letting her know how he feels, but he’ll wait until she’s comfortable enough for that. 

Until then, he’s just loving all their little exchanges throughout the day. And Michonne loves it too. She’s also aware she’s fallen in love with him by this point, but Rick is her best friend’s dad and they have such a good thing going as a family that I think she too is hesitant to make her feelings known and find out if it’s mutual. So like Rick, she's working up to it. Especially with Deanna’s final words to her ringing through her mind often during this time - “What do you want? Now you go figure it out.”

But one morning, Michonne remembers that she still doesn’t have toothpaste of her own so she goes up to Rick’s room to borrow it like she normally does. However, this time he’s all out too. And so is Carl.

All of them being out of toothpaste ends up being a blessing in disguise tho. Because fortunately, this is also the same day Rick very intentionally finds the perfect minty alternative. 😌

And those mints lead to Rick and Michonne finally acting on all the blatant love, desire, and sexual tension that they’d been steaming up the house with the last few weeks. 

And that’s my 'little' detailed play-by-play of what I think life was like for Rick and Michonne during that very impactful Season 6 time jump. 👌🏽😊

Also, I had said in Part One that this Part Two would possibly be less lengthy, but I checked and this one is longer than the first. 😅 They were just too fun to write and imagine. Thanks for reading them! I really do appreciate each person who takes the time to read my thoughts. 🙏🏽💕

[itstheval]

Memory of a Quest

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

Isabeau didn't know what to do with his hands. He'd never been in this situation before.

Siffrin had invited him out to visit a shop, on a 'secret mission'. He was confused, of course - this was something he did with Odile, not with Isabeau! But it had snapped into sense when he mentioned that he'd promised it during the loops. It was his therapist's idea…Get closure on the things he'd said to do during the loops, and it should help him put them to rest.

Why he'd promised to take Isabeau out antiquing was beyond him, but anything for Sif, right?

So there he was, standing in an antique store and trying to figure out how much he was allowed to touch. Not that there was too much interesting…A few familytales, some knick-knacks from people who'd moved on or passed on, things like that. It seemed important to Sif, though, and that's what Isabeau decided to focus on.

Siffrin didn't…have much of a past, he'd come to realize. He'd thought that it was just that he'd Changed! People do that, leaving their pasts behind, trying to pretend they don't exist, and Isa was nothing if not considerate. The truth was way more troublesome…There wasn't just a bad past behind Sif, or a past that belonged to someone he wasn't anymore, but nothing at all. Like if he let down his walls, instead of a bustling city, there was dry desert.

Well, the group had decided (but Isabeau especially), if there was nothing there, he'd water the crops and build the city with his own hands. He'd erect a town as great as the bustling Jouvente he left. Bigger even! With a nice number of bakeries full of memories of good food, and maybe a few Houses of Change…This metaphor was getting away from him.

So there Isabeau stood, surrounded by history that meant nothing to him, watching the love of his life go through each thing, turning it over in fascination.

"What're ya looking for, anyway?" Isa finally decided to ask, startling Siffrin from holding a small glass frog. "If I knew, maybe I could help?"

Sif turned to look at him, and the look of uncertainty hit him hard, despite his best efforts. "I…Don't know." Sif admitted, and Isa put the pieces together just a moment before Sif continued. "Something I remember, I guess. Something from back home."

Isabeau nodded, keeping his smile broad and warm, and ruffling Sif's hair. Thankfully, Mira had managed to teach him how to take care of it, so it wasn't as greasy as it once was…The first few times he'd done that, shortly after leaving Dormont, had not been a great feeling! Luckily, Isabeau knew how to keep things like that hidden (never show them let them think you're fine and dumb and-).

"So, stuff with stars? Or…The Universe?" Isabeau tried to think of anything else that could be a clue, that he could home in on. "Or…It was an island, maybe stuff with boats?" He asked it innocently, but the way Sif was looking at him made him pause.

"You…Remember all that? Now?" Siffrin had gone from curious to shocked, to almost crying, in seconds. Oh Change, what did that mean?!

"Well of course I do!" Isabeau tried. "They're important to you, aren't they?"

OOF!

A small, Sif-shaped missile impacted his chest, and Sif was hugging him and sniffling, looking up. This was important to the little rogue, huh? He tried reaching a hand around, to rub his back through the smooth cloak Sif always wore.

"Of course I remember. Why wouldn't I? They're things you care about. It'd be like not remembering Odile likes books, or Bon likes pineapple." You give a small laugh, your words quiet in the store whose customers all had their eyes turned to you now.

"I…I just, you never remembered before. Not when I didn't…"

"Do it perfectly?" Isabeau gave a sigh. Not for the first time, he wished he could've explained himself sooner. "Sif, just because that's when you learned that I knew, doesn't mean it's the only time I knew. I've cared about you for…For so very long. And if you can't remember it, I'll do my best to remember it for you."

Isabeau wasn't sure that was the right thing to say. Sif buried his head again, but the squeezing of arms around him made him oof, and he rubbed all the harder in return. "All of us will, Sif. Now…Shouldn't we be looking around?" Change, save him from the stares of random passersby…

Change was listening, or at least Siffrin decided to return to his search. He wiped his eyes, and Isa patted his back as he watched the puffiness of them, the darker shades that were a sure sign he'd been crying. "Right…" Sif managed, his voice wavering. "The Quest."

Isa allowed himself a little laugh at that description. The quest? That's really how they were thinking about this, still? Well…Nothing wrong in helping him. "Yes, we must quest forth for the mighty secrets of old." He allowed a nod, as though it wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd said in quite some time.

Siffrin felt like an idiot. This was nothing new, but it'd been happening less recently? So it didn't feel great.

Of course Isabeau wouldn't know what to look for out on a secret quest! Of course this would make the whole thing awkward! And of course he'd wound up having to be comforted, again, when everything went wrong, again.

Thankfully, as Doctor Jinn had put it, he's got the same chance as everyone else to make it right. And Isabeau had remembered! He'd actually remembered, even though they hadn't gone stargazing! Or anything!

…Why hadn't they gone stargazing yet? They needed to remember to fix that later.

For now, though, they managed to focus on other things. Like the antiques around them. They had to admit, this had always fascinated them. Every single one of them, every item in the shop, with a history longer than Siffrin could imagine. He picked up a notebook with a hand symbol on it, and took a moment to try to imagine just how many other generations had held the same thing they're holding. Who wrote you? They thought it to themself as they stared, not really taking in the book in front of them. How many people read from you, how many lives did you change? What story were they holding in their hands right now, without knowing any of it?

They put it down with significantly more reverence than they'd picked it up, then jumped at Isabeau's voice. Stars, they'd gotten so lost in their own head again!

"Hey Sif, Stars are a thing from…Your country, right?" A part of them curled up at the way that Isa had to talk around the name of their home, but a much more interested part perked up.

"Yeah, why? What did you find?" They started towards the aisle that Isabeau was down, and then paused dead in their tracks.

"Well, this hat has all kinds of stars on the inside, see?"

It couldn't be.

That hat.

That. Hat.

That hat that saved them. That hat they'd last seen in the House. That hat that blew away on the wind. That hat that was their only upgrade, their only proof of getting somewhere for themself, their only proof of-!

"Woah! Okay, maybe stars aren't so good on hats? What, is it like, it's making a fake sky or something and that's not supposed to happen?" Isa went to put the hat back down, and they all but lunged forward. "NO!"

"No no no, I'm sorry, it's just, it's important, it's a big thing, I'm sorry, please let me have it, I'll pay you back, any amount you want, anything, please!"

They were babbling, but they couldn't seem to stop. That Hat. The memory of an orrery, of a tale they could only remember in their blankest moments, the memory of how they'd fought their way through. Of their darkest hours, too. But…It had been there.

"Woah woah woah! That's…Okay, star hats are good, got it! I'll tell you what…You tell me what's so important about this hat, and I'll pay for it entirely. Otherwise, it's a loan, you get it?"

Isa's voice had a laugh in it that Siffrin clung to as a lifeline. They slowly pulled themself back into place, like a sailor climbing back aboard after falling off their ship. They were here, not there. They didn't have it. They barely had their dagger. They didn't…need something, that armoured them, that saved them like it did. But at the same time…

"Alright, but it's…Loop stuff, not Island stuff. So…After we get out of here, okay?"

"Alright!" A heavy hand deposited it onto Siffrin's head, and they had the decency to blush about it, even if they did press up into the hand (not at all like a cat don't ask questions) and smile. "And if that's a Loop thing, you don't have to even tell me about it. I've never seen loop stuff make you that happy. Or…I guess, make you smile, a little? Either way, it's nice to know they weren't all bad! Even when you weren't trying your hardest."

Siffrin paused at that phrasing, and then gave a nod. The hat was theirs. It reminded them, the way it cut off their vision. It kept their eyes forward, and down. Above was only the same stars they always knew…They wondered if that was how everyone else saw the world all the time? But, Isabeau was turning, and starting to look around.

"Rusted garden shears…" Siffrin's wince was missed, thankfully. "A weird needle-pointed sword, some shades, I wonder what all this is about?" The thought made you step up, and look at what Isabeau had found. That was right…It looked like all the equipment you never found, in that last fateful loop, had somehow wound up here. Minus the fish book…Itchy-ology? Icky-ology? Something like that. The fish book, the earrings, and it looked like Bonbon's 'weapons' weren't there either. But the rest of it, all gathered up in one place, like someone'd put it there on purpose.

The world tilted under you.

It wasn't the first time you'd felt that, and you gripped your hands into fists. You were here. You were now. Gravity still worked. Breathing still worked. Don't get lost, Siffrin! Don't lose it, Siffrin! Bob your knees, feel the way the world feels under your feet. Close your eyes, then open them again, and look at things fresh, without the tilt your brain put on it. The tilt wasn't real.

It felt real.

It felt more real than the world around you. You reached out, and touched the sword's hilt, before jerking your hand back like you were burned. Was it going to vanish, now that you've seen it? Would…could…the universe still reset itself? Did you still have its eye? No. The sword was still there, just like the rest, just like the hat on your head, just like all of it.

Isa said something. You couldn't hear what. The words pulsed in your ears, your head throbbing at the tempo of the sounds, but you didn't understand them. Sorry, Siffrin's not here right now, can I take a message? You laughed, and even in your own throbbing ears it sounded like half a sob.

You were hugged! You were held! Hands were around you!

You jumped at the feeling, but it did ground you. The feeling pushed you back into your body like a puzzle piece slotted into place, and whoever held you turned you away from those…items. Dishware, it turned out, was on the other side. Dishes and cups, ancient and cracked, dusty even here.

"You back, Sif?" Isabeau. Isa. He's here. He's holding you. He's…Holding you. You could feel the way every little shift of your breath made sensation flare over your body, the slightest motion pulling and pushing your skin in ways you aren't anticipating, and you shiver. You can't pull away…You can't. You can't tell him this isn't what you want. You have to stay here. You aren't sure why that's what your mind latched onto, but it was true. You wanted to stay there in his arms, even if the back of your brain was screaming about the way it felt.

Stay there. Breathe. Worry later. Breathe. Respond.

"I'm back. But…I think we need to go." You managed, at your breathiest.

"Okay…Do you want to go alone, or should I stay with you?"

Considerate Isabeau. Always at your side, as long as you'll let him be.

"Stay. I'll follow you…we still need to pay for the hat. And, I'm sorry, Isa. About…"

"Don't worry about it!" He cut you off, which was good because you didn't have the words to continue that thought. "I wasn't sure what we were looking for, but it sure wasn't that! We can finish up our secret quest some other day."

You smiled. You'd have to explain yourself later, but…For now, Isabeau was there. Your rock. Your personal Savior.

You were glad to have him.

+++

"Just a collection of…items?" Odile asked, and all you could do was nod.

"Some shears, a hat, a sword, a bow…Just things you'd find in any store. You're sure you don't know?"

"Not at all. He's never done that before."

Siffrin had vanished off to your shared room when you returned, clutching the hat tight to his chest. You promised you'd give him space, and you'd ask before you came in, but in the meantime you felt like you had to solve this mystery. If it hurt Siffrin, you want to know about it, and stop it! Whether he believed it or not!

But this…

"It hit him hard. Almost as hard as that time Mira woke him up from his nap." You didn't think anything would compare to that day. "And he was alright when he wasn't looking at them, like Jinn said. I'm glad I didn't let him go alone."

"You said he found a hat? That he thought he should wear? A sword, like Mirabelle has…and a bow, like she wears. Glasses like mine…" Odile took a moment to adjust her glasses. "I believe I'll be going shopping, Isabeau. If you think you can help him alone?"

You gave a nod, trying not to think about what Odile was saying. You didn't see any gloves there, and with a clench of your hands you felt your crystal knuckles at the ready. Whatever was happening, you couldn't help but wonder how you were excluded from it. As much as you tried not to.

Instead of dwelling on that, you walked upstairs and knocked on the door to your shared room, waiting for the faint sound of 'come in'. Thank Change, it wasn't too long in coming.

Siffrin was staring at his hat when you came in, curled with his knees up near his chin on the bed and facing towards the door. One finger had been tracing the lines on the inside of it, and rested there as you walked in and gently shut the door.

"Want to talk about it?" You asked, hoping against hope.

"No."

"That's a shame." You walked over to the bed, and sat down, watching them. It was a practiced motion, and you both knew what it meant. You saw Siffrin set the hat down, saw him order his words, and saw him decide to speak - and made sure he saw the thankful smile that came from that decision.

"They were from the House. Each one of them was…a piece of the story that never happened. Something else that I left behind." Left behind was good! You liked left behind! It was a lot better than 'crabbed up' or 'completely blinded' or anything else they'd called it! "When I saw them, I…I just remembered. Everything I'd been forgetting. Everything I didn't get to do. Everything I tried to go back and do." You liked that less, but…the phrasing wasn't bad, at least. "I don't know how they got here, but it was like they were tracking me down, to find me again."

"Would you…like new memories with them?" Another one of the doctor's suggestions. "Or do you want to put those behind you? We don't have to go back, but now that you remember…wouldn't it be nice to prove this time was better than anything you left behind?"

"Yeah…Thanks, Isa." They reached a hand out, and you smiled brightly. Another concession, another suggestion, and you took his hand and used your thumb to slide the glove up the back of it, before planting a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Not! That you did that every time! But, every time he opened up, you wanted to give him something. And showing him how you loved him? You'd do that whenever he let you. This was a good chance.

From the smile in their eyes, they agreed.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I think it's clear Lion Guy has climbed AT LEAST to the top #2 on your fav twst characters list..... but do you think he'll ever surpass J word?? lately you've been rambling a lot abt Leona but tbh it's obvious you rlly rlly love Jade too from all the posts I've read abt your feelings towards him (which have helped me understand and appreciate him more, too!)

sorry if it's smth weird to ask btw, I know feelings/thoughts abt fictional characters sometimes can be pretty personal- so feel free to ignore this 🙇

For your reference, here is my personal Twst tier list ^^ It’s up to date as of the recent book 7 part 12 update. (And to be clear, the characters placed in the same tier are in no particular order; just because Silver is first in the "tolerate" tier doesn't mean I like him any more or less than Deuce, who is next in the row.)

If you’d like more specifics on why I do or don’t like a particular character, please check out my FAQ in the pinned post or look at #character opinion bingo. If the character you’d like me to elaborate on isn’t addressed there, then you may send in an ask about it.

Please remember to be respectful when discussing character preferences; do not attempt to convince others to change their minds or imply/tell them that they are “wrong” for feeling a certain way about a character.

I don’t mind the question! This blog’s a place for me to express myself (whether creatively or critically/more analytically) and to share my opinions on certain aspects of Twst ^^

I don't really think to put specific numbers on characters most of the time because I personally get really anxious about rankings 🤡 According to the same friends that said all of this though, they basically agree that L*ona is pretty much second place or that L*ona has already surpassed J word. A particular friend likes to joke that “it’s Leover”, and another one says, “it’s like Raven divorced J word for L*ona”. And honestly 💦💦 if I'm being 100% truthful, I'm a little scared myself that some cat boy I disliked back in 2020 will shoot right up to the very top 💀 When I think about that... OOooOoOooooOOOGH, IT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS BECAUSE HE'D BE SO ANNOYING AND SMUG ABOUT WINNING FOR ONCE. Finally clawing his way up from rock bottom... past second place (where he was perpetually trapped for most of his life; second place to his older brother, second place to that lizard, second place to eel)... to snatch the crown from the jaws of defeat... 💢 (You can't see it, but I'm pounding the wall with my fists--)

BUT IT'S OKAY, IT'S OKAY GUYS (<- huffing copium) IT'S JUST THE CONTENT RELEASE BIAS... Like, L*ona has gotten SO much more focus recently that it might be a little unfair to compare the two right now??? He got that Nightmare Suit SSR and played an important role in the Halloween event, then immediately got his time to shine in his book 7 dream, on top of us being forced to go through all five Heartslabyul dreams with him. That's not even mentioning the fact that the Episode of Savanaclaw manga is hyping us up for his OB reveal in January, or his hometown event rerun that's currently going on in the JP server. I keep telling myself that as soon as J word gets a new exciting SSR or story content that I'll swing right back around to him 😭 He hasn't gotten anything substantial lately... And let's be honest here, L*ona has a complete advantage no matter what the situation is for J word simply because L*ona is a dorm leader and an OB boy. There will always be more attention and detail showered upon him and his development over J word's OTL There's just... more L*ona lore to chew on. The other part of it is a large chunk of what I discuss on this blog comes from interactions with my readers. If readers submit more asks about L*ona, then I'll naturally talk about him more. Pair this with the guarantee that he's getting more screen time because of the remaining Heartslabyul dreams, and it becomes constant lion reinforcement.

sdfhladiyofyfaey8gFP9MGEEGA ANyWAY, sorry if that didn't quite answer your question... I didn't want to give a definitive response because I can't really tell what will happen in the future but hey, you guys wouldn't think any less of me if something happens, right 🤡

[movingmusically]

Can you do an Austin Butler x Reader imagine where it’s Elvis’s birthday and Austin decides to go to Memphis because he hasn’t been since Lisa’s funeral and the reader has never been. When they get there Austin introduces the reader to Riley, her husband Ben and daughter Tupelo, her twin sisters Harper and Finely , Priscilla, and Jerry. Riley decides to hold a dinner at Graceland (after hours) and they all catch up with Austin since it’s there first time seeing them since Lisa’s passing. The reader and the twins immediately become best friends (let’s say it’s years from now and all of them are 23). They all spend time hanging out and driving the golf carts on the Graceland lawn greeting the fans. The next day, it’s finally Elvis’s birthday and they all gather at Graceland for the celebration and because it’s Austin’s first time in a long time and the readers first time ever Riley lets them cut the cake.

Author’s Note:

Thank you for the request, my knowledge of Elvis/the Presley family is limited to the movie, Austin’s interviews and the new Netflix documentary so apologies for any mistakes! I also included the social media elements you wanted-I hope I did it right!

Word Count: 3,181

Masterlist

Back to Graceland

The hum of the car engine filled the quiet air as Memphis loomed closer on the horizon. Austin’s hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than usual, his knuckles faintly white, but his face remained calm—almost too calm. You knew him well enough to see through it. This trip meant more to him than he let on.

It had been Riley’s invitation that brought you both here. Because it would’ve been Elvis’ 90th birthday, she had decided to host celebrations at Graceland, inviting family and close friends to gather. She’d made it clear that she wanted Austin there. It was a special occasion, and Riley knew how much Graceland meant to him—how much her grandfather’s legacy still lived on in his heart.

But this was Austin’s first time returning since Lisa Marie’s funeral. That day had been heavy and devastating for everyone, and in the time since, Austin had kept a quiet distance from the place, choosing instead to remember it as it had been during happier times. Now, though, the invitation—and the milestone—felt too important to decline.

He’d said as much when you sat beside him on the couch earlier in the week, scrolling through Riley’s message. “It’s been too long,” he admitted quietly, more to himself than to you. “I can’t miss this.”

And now, here you were.

You glanced at Austin, the early afternoon sun casting soft light on his profile. His sunglasses shielded his eyes, but you could still sense his focus, his thoughts somewhere far away. You reached over, placing your hand gently on his knee. “You doing okay?”

His lips twitched into a small, grateful smile as he looked at you briefly. “Yeah. Just… a lot to process, you know? Haven’t been back since…” He trailed off, his fingers flexing against the wheel before he let out a quiet breath. “But it’s the right thing to do. And I’m glad you’re here with me.”

You smiled softly, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not doing this alone. And I can’t wait to see it all��the house, the stories, the history. I feel like I’ve heard so much about it, but it’ll be different seeing it in person.”

You were trying to sound upbeat, but truthfully, you were a little nervous yourself. You had never been to Graceland, and while the idea of seeing such a legendary place thrilled you, you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. You were meeting Austin’s extended “family”—Riley, Priscilla, Jerry, and the twins—for the first time. These were people who had been part of Austin’s journey during his portrayal of Elvis, people who carried their own memories, grief, and love for Lisa Marie and Elvis.

What if they didn’t like you? What if you said the wrong thing?

“You’ll love them,” Austin said suddenly, as if reading your mind. He reached over and took your hand, bringing it to his lips briefly before resting it on the centre console, intertwined with his. “Riley’s amazing, and the twins? You’ll love them too. They’re wild but in the best way.”

“I just hope they like me,” you admitted quietly.

Austin’s eyebrows shot up behind his sunglasses, and he scoffed. “Like you? Are you serious? They’re going to adore you. I promise. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You smiled despite yourself, his confidence in you easing some of your nerves.

The closer you got to Memphis, the more the landscape seemed to shift, the familiar streets turning into something softer, richer with history. As the signs for Graceland came into view, a sense of awe washed over you. Even from the road, you could see the wrought-iron gates adorned with musical notes, the flowers and tributes left by fans spilling onto the pavement outside.

“Wow,” you breathed, pressing your forehead to the window slightly as you looked out. “There’s already so many people here.”

Austin smiled faintly. “It’s like this every year, especially on his birthday. People come from all over the world. It’s kind of incredible.”

You turned back to him, watching the way his expression softened as he took in the sight. For a moment, you could see the deep connection he had to all of this—to Elvis, to the family, and to the people who still loved the man behind the legend.

“Ready?” you asked gently.

He exhaled, a small, determined smile breaking through. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

As you pulled through the gates, fans caught sight of the car and began waving excitedly, their faces lighting up. Austin gave a small wave in return, his usual easygoing charm flickering back into place.

“Here we go,” he murmured, slipping off his sunglasses and shooting you a look that was part nervous, part hopeful.

You reached for his hand again, squeezing it tightly. “We’ve got this.”

And with that, the car rolled to a stop in front of Graceland, the iconic house standing tall and proud, waiting to welcome you both home.

The house was quiet when you first stepped inside—quieter than you expected for a place so legendary. The air felt heavy but not sad, more like it carried the weight of decades of love and memories.

Riley greeted you both almost immediately, her warm, welcoming smile making you feel at ease. She wrapped Austin in a tight hug, her voice soft as she murmured, “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, Riles,” Austin replied, his voice equally low, as though they both knew how significant this moment was.

When Riley turned to you, her smile widened. “And this must be the one Austin’s been telling us about.”

You laughed lightly, a bit flustered, as you shook her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Only the good stuff, I hope,” she teased, her blue eyes sparkling in a way that reminded you of Lisa Marie. She didn’t linger on pleasantries, though, and soon you were swept further into the house, where everyone was gathered.

Priscilla was next to greet you, looking as poised and elegant as ever. “Welcome,” she said kindly, shaking your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” you replied sincerely, feeling Austin’s reassuring presence just a step behind you.

Jerry Schilling, a longtime friend of Elvis and the family, followed suit, his grin warm and familiar as he clapped Austin on the back. “It’s good to see you again, Austin. And welcome Y/N,” he added to you with a nod.

Before you could even respond, a pair of voices interrupted. “Are you her?”

You turned to see two faces staring at you with open curiosity—Harper and Finley. Both of them were stunning, with the same mischievous glint in their eyes that told you they were troublemakers in the best way.

“Uh… I think so?” you replied playfully, already warming to them.

Harper rolled her eyes and turned to Austin. “Why didn’t you bring her sooner? She looks cool.”

“Because I knew you’d scare her off immediately,” Austin shot back, smirking as he looped an arm around your shoulders.

“We’re not that bad,” Finley insisted, grinning. “We’ve decided we like you already, so you’re stuck with us now.”

You laughed, any lingering nerves quickly melting away. “I think I can handle that.”

Austin shot you a knowing look. “Told you.”

The introductions were rounded out by Riley’s husband, Ben, who gave you a friendly hug, and their daughter, Tupelo—a sweet, wide-eyed little girl who clung to her father’s leg but waved shyly at you. “She’s a little star,” Austin said with affection as he crouched down to say hello to her, making her giggle.

Riley had outdone herself. The dining room at Graceland had been beautifully set for a private family dinner. The house felt different at night, quieter and more intimate. It didn’t feel like a museum anymore—it felt like a home.

You sat beside Austin at the long dining table, the soft glow of candles dancing across everyone’s faces. The food was southern comfort at its finest: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and dishes that felt like they belonged on a family table rather than in a historic house.

Priscilla sat at one end of the table, a gracious matriarch keeping everyone engaged with her stories of Elvis, while Jerry chimed in with his own memories. They were stories that made you laugh, stories that tugged at your heart, and you could see how deeply they resonated with Austin.

“Your first time here, huh?” Harper asked, nudging you lightly from across the table as Finley buttered her fifth biscuit.

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling. “It’s incredible—everything I imagined and more.”

“You’ve gotta see it all tomorrow,” Finley added enthusiastically. “The lawn, the cars, the golf carts. You’re riding with us.”

Austin chuckled beside you. “Just don’t let them drive too fast. They’re a menace in those carts.”

Harper feigned offence. “We’re efficient. Big difference.”

You grinned, already feeling like you were part of the group. The twins’ energy was infectious, and Riley’s warm glances across the table told you she was glad you were here.

As dinner stretched on, you caught glimpses of Austin relaxing, laughing freely with Riley and Jerry, even teasing the twins. He looked at home here, as if the love in this place outweighed the grief that sometimes lingered.

Riley eventually leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “It’s so good to have you back, Austin. It’s been too long.”

Austin glanced around the table, his hand finding yours beneath the tablecloth. “It feels good to be back. Thanks for this, Riles.”

“You’ve got to stop thanking me,” she replied softly, her eyes kind. “You’re family. And this is home. Always.”

As the plates were cleared and conversation began to quiet, Jerry’s voice broke through the lull. “You know, it wouldn’t be a visit to Graceland without a little music.”

Austin looked up from his seat, caught slightly off guard. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on,” Harper chimed in, grinning as she leaned back in her chair. “You’re not getting out of this, Butler.”

Finley nodded, already on her feet. “I’ll grab the guitar.”

It didn’t take long for her to return, cradling one of Elvis’ most famous guitars like it was a treasure—because it was. She handed it to Austin carefully, and the room fell into an expectant hush as he adjusted it in his lap, running his fingers over the strings. The sight of him there, in Graceland, holding Elvis Presley’s guitar, sent a shiver down your spine.

“You sure about this?” Austin murmured, looking at Priscilla for confirmation.

She gave him a soft nod, her smile filled with approval. “Play something for us, Austin.”

The room was still as Austin settled himself, his focus sharpening. He strummed the guitar gently, the rich sound reverberating through the room like it belonged here—timeless and familiar. Each note seemed to carry a weight, a quiet reverence that filled the space. His movements were deliberate, his fingers gliding over the strings with care, like he was playing for more than just the people in the room—like he was honouring something bigger.

You watched him, completely captivated. The way his head bowed slightly, his fingers moving with precision and care, the quiet way he poured his heart into each note—it was everything.

When the song ended, the room was silent for a moment before applause broke out, led by Jerry. Riley smiled softly, her eyes glassy as she clapped. Priscilla looked both proud and wistful, while the twins practically bounced in their seats.

You couldn’t stop staring, the swell of love and admiration you felt practically overwhelming. Austin caught your gaze, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as he set the guitar down gently.

“Are you swooning over there?” Harper teased, nudging you with her elbow.

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t deny it. “Can you blame me?”

Austin chuckled, reaching for your hand as he stood. “Come on, baby. You’re making me blush.”

“Good,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand. “You deserve it.”

Instagram Post – @rileykeough:

📍Graceland

Family dinner where it all feels right again. 💙

@austinbutler: Thanks for bringing us all together, Riles.

@harperpresley: That song, though. Butler’s got skills. 🎸

@yourusername: Pretty sure I fell in love all over again. 💭

@finleypresley: We already adopted her, @yourusername. Hope you don’t mind.

@yourusername: I think I’m in the best hands. 🩵

Sunlight poured through the windows of Graceland, filtering through the curtains in soft golden streaks. You stirred awake to the sound of soft footsteps, blinking as you realised Austin was already up. He stood by the window, looking out onto the sprawling lawn, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep.

Austin turned, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he crossed the room and sat beside you on the bed. “Not really. Just… taking it all in.”

You reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw, still rough with morning stubble. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he admitted softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s a big day. I thought I’d show you around before everything kicks off.”

After breakfast—fresh biscuits and coffee prepared lovingly by the kitchen staff—Austin took your hand and guided you through Graceland. The house felt alive this morning, buzzing with energy as preparations for Elvis’ birthday celebration took place outside.

Austin led you room by room, his voice low as he told you stories about the making of the Elvis movie.

“This was where I spent hours just… trying to absorb it all,” he said as you stepped into the famous Jungle Room. The green shag carpet under your feet and the exotic decor made the space feel frozen in time.

You smiled, watching as Austin’s gaze softened. “Is it weird being back here?”

“A little,” he admitted, turning toward you. “But it’s good, too. This place meant so much to him, and I feel like it still does, even now.”

You both lingered there for a while before he led you outside, stopping by Elvis’ pink Cadillac. Austin ran a hand along the shiny paint, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“We shot a scene with a replica of this car,” he said. “But seeing the real thing? Nothing compares.”

“You know, I can’t even imagine what it must’ve felt like playing him,” you said softly, taking in the sight of the car and the house that loomed behind it.

Austin turned to look at you, his blue eyes warm as they met yours. “I just wanted to do him justice. For his family, for his fans. Standing here again… I feel like I can finally let some of that weight go.”

You stepped closer, slipping your hand into his. “You did more than justice, Austin. You made people see him as a person again, not just a legend. I think he’d be proud of you.”

Austin squeezed your hand, brushing a kiss to your temple. “I hope so.”

As the morning drifted into early afternoon, the family gathered on the lawn, the sounds of laughter carrying across the property. Fans had begun arriving outside the gates, leaving flowers, cards, and memorabilia to honour Elvis.

Harper and Finley wasted no time dragging you toward the golf carts. “C’mon, Y/N,” Harper called over her shoulder. “We’ve got fans to greet!”

“Don’t let them run you over!” Austin called with a grin, shaking his head as the twins bundled you into the back of a cart.

You laughed as Harper took the wheel, Finley sitting beside her, both of them grinning like mischievous devils. The cart lurched forward, zipping across the Graceland lawn, and you held on to the edge for dear life.

“Do you two have a licence for this thing?” you joked, laughing as the twins waved dramatically to the fans lined outside the gates.

“Golf carts don’t need licences!” Finley declared triumphantly, throwing up a peace sign to a group of cheering fans.

The energy was contagious. Some fans recognised you and waved excitedly, but most were focused on the twins, who were practically celebrities themselves. You waved alongside them, grinning as Harper slowed the cart to a stop so a little girl holding a bouquet of flowers could hand them to Finley.

“Thank you!” Finley called with a bright smile before turning to you. “See? They love us.”

You shot her an amused look. “You two are definitely trouble.”

“Good trouble,” Harper corrected, starting the cart again with a jerk that made you squeal.

From the lawn, you caught a glimpse of Austin standing beside Riley and Jerry, watching you with a fond expression. He shook his head with a smile, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding in front of him.

Later that afternoon, as the family gathered under the tented area set up on the lawn, Riley took the microphone. The crowd hushed, fans standing outside the gates peeking in through the openings.

“Thank you all for being here today,” Riley began, her voice warm but steady. “It means so much to us that we can celebrate my grandfather’s 90th birthday together. It’s a reminder of how much he was loved—and still is.”

The crowd applauded, and Riley turned to Austin with a smile. “It’s been a while since Austin’s been back, and it’s Y/N’s first time here. So, in honour of that, I think it’s only right they get to cut the birthday cake.”

You blinked, glancing at Austin as the crowd clapped. “Us?” you whispered.

Austin grinned, brushing a hand down your back as he stood. “Looks like we’re up, baby.”

Together, you walked to the table where the massive birthday cake—a beautiful, multi-tiered masterpiece—sat waiting. Austin picked up the knife, placing his hand over yours as the crowd watched eagerly.

“Ready?” he murmured, smiling down at you.

You nodded, your heart full as you both cut the first slice together. The crowd erupted into cheers, fans outside clapping and waving excitedly as cameras flashed.

Austin leaned in close, his voice soft. “Thanks for being here with me.”

You looked up at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

As the slice of cake was lifted, Harper’s voice broke through the moment: “Save some for us!”

You and Austin both laughed, the weight of the day replaced by love, laughter, and the unshakable feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Instagram Post – @austinbutler:

📍Graceland

“Honouring the King on what would’ve been his 90th birthday. Thank you, Riley, for bringing us all together again. 🖤”

@yourusername: Couldn’t have asked for a more special day. 💙

@harperpresley: That cake better have my name on the next slice.

Instagram Story – @yourusername:

“Graceland chauffeurs of the year, obviously.”

Reply from @austinbutler: And menaces to society.