#being written or being animated or are going to be animated

[cassandraclare]

Letter from Jace to Clary (for Kickstarter)

[written for Theresa]

Dear Clary,

You said you wanted me to write you a letter for your birthday, so here I am, writing that letter. At first I thought that maybe you weren’t serious. After all, we live in the same house. We are not separated by time, dimensions, or the turbulent ocean, which are the usual reasons people write letters.

 I thought maybe you were being self-effacing, that you just didn’t want me to go to any trouble, especially when we have wedding planning coming up (hopefully soon—since we’re waiting on a peace process, it could be a while). 

So I came up with the idea of taking you on a flying motorcycle to see the Northern Lights, but when I suggested it you said no, you only wanted a letter. 

I suggested we portal to the south of France and pick lavender and have a picnic, but you said no, you wanted a letter. 

I suggested we use our Shadowhunter skills to break into the Met so you could stand in front of every painting for as long as you want, but you said no, you’d rather have a letter. 

I suggested we portal to the Tokyo International Anime Fair, because I remembered you saying you’d always wanted to go, but you said no, you’d rather have a letter. 

I suggested I could find you the best, most beautiful sword that you’d ever seen, and had your initials carved into it, or a subtle message like “I <3 Jace” but you said no, you’d rather have a letter.

And then I realized that while we have had an amazing time together all these years, and  we’ve always gone around the world and seen incredible things, that things are different now. Now there is a shadow hanging over everything, the shadow of the situation in Alicante. And I realized that what you actually wanted is something you can keep with you that reminds you of hope.

So let me tell you, in this letter, why you should hope. 

Because no matter what we are facing, we are still us, Jace and Clary. We still have our friends and the people who love us. We have faced so much together, and we have always come out of the darkness into light. And in the end, I believe that love will always win out against hate, because I have faced some of the greatest evil that has ever been known, and the strength I have found in how much I love you has always carried me through. So keep this letter with you, even the in dark moments. Especially in the dark moments. I hope that it brings you comfort to know that I love you more than life itself. And if it doesn’t, remember: You could have had a flying motorcycle ride to see the Northern Lights, and you turned it down.

yours, 

Jace

[insomniadreamzz]

In love with the Wolf

Alpha!Jinx x Fem!Reader

This fic takes place in Omegaverse AU. Mentions of smut, blood, werewolves, violence, angst

This fic is also taking place in another world but with Arcane characters. A Fanfiction written by me. I don’t own any of the characters. Using (Y/N) in this fic as well for Reader.

Enjoy!

Prolouge

Jinx and Vi were both Alpha‘s and sisters. Their relationship wasn’t the best after their father died in an accident. Vi blaming Jinx for it, like she blamed her every time something went wrong. Since that accident both of them parted ways, Vi meeting a beautiful woman, a Omega called Caitlyn. Caitlyn grew up in well known pack, a family with a lot of money, living the fancy life together with Vi in a beautiful place, a mansion. Meanwhile Jinx stayed at their lifestyle they had before. Nothing looked pompous, she had a simple home, a little hideout where she spent her time resting after going hunting or just causing trouble in town. She was known for being a criminal who stole stuff from other werewolves that had a more fancier life or even going in the human town and causing trouble there.

Their father Vander always told them not to get close to the human town. It’s dangerous. Humans and Werewolves had their problems with each other obviously. War between humans and werewolves was always a thing but at that time things got quiet between them. The leader of the whole werewolf nation made a deal with the human one. A deal no one really knew exactly about but it was important for every nation that they stopped fighting and living their own life even tho there were a little outsiders who still caused trouble. Criminals like Jinx. How long will the armistice hold on until everything goes back to chaos again? Only time would tell.

———

„Is that really necessary?“ You asked as you looked at the mirror, your brother Victor helped you adjusting the tie of your new uniform.

„Of course it is. You’re an adult woman now and our government needs more people who take care of the well being of human existence. You have never been the girly girl ever since you were little. You wanted this don’t you remember? Protecting your home?“ He told you as he gave you a smile with a little hint of sadness in it. „I can’t do it because of my disability to walk but you can. Make your older brother proud.“ He mentioned and you smiled, nodding in response. Victor was right. He couldn’t do anything much but you could. Maybe it isn’t that bad and you could use what you will learn to protect your loved ones.

Even if there is no war at the moment there were still some outsiders who caused trouble on both sides, human and wolves. The city must be protected and you grew more proud with your new job, fighting for good all those years you grew stronger and smarter. At least you thought werewolves were bad and they had to be locked away as soon as they get into the human territory. It’s too dangerous letting those ‚animals‘ run free.

All those things got taught to you. All that hatred. But for what cost? Your brother disappeared and you were alone, living only for the well being of your hometown.

You didn’t know what happened to Victor. He just disappeared from one day to another. You made peace with your own mind, convincing yourself of thinking he won’t come back anymore so you will stop being disappointed every day he won’t stand in front of your door, telling you everything is fine.

„Make your older brother proud.“ That sentence from him creeped in your mind daily and you promised him you will make him proud.

You were walking along the streets, the whole morning was rather quiet, not much to do for you as you roamed along the usual are you were positioned on. You were about to take a break when you suddenly heard a loud bang, a building catching fire, your eyes widen as you saw the chaos only a few meters away from where you were standing. „Shit…“ You mumbled under your breath, running towards the building.

You saw a few people running into your direction, away from the fire, some of your coworkers who were located near your route were also on their way to where the explosion happened, helping injured people out of it.

You decided to get in, trying to find more possible injured people but you didn’t see anything, coughing as you inhaled the smoke of the fire which also made it hard for you to see anything. In the middle of the chaos you saw a figure sitting in the middle of the room you were standing. It was a female, giggling to herself insanely before she noticed your presence, pink glowing eyes looking straight into yours. Her grinning widely so you could see the tip of her fangs. She was one of them…

„What the hell are you doing!? Get outta here!“ You shout at her, not caring if she was one of the wolves. She was still a living being. Sometimes you thought you are too soft for this job but letting anyone die wasn’t one of your things to do. „Why? Don’t you love the chaos? I do like it. Because that’s all I can do right. Causing chaos and trouble.“ She answered and your eyes widened, realising she was responsible for that.

„Why???! Why did you do that? I mean-…fuck it!“ You grumbled, knowing it was pointless asking her that. When you heard the ceiling above you cracking, something snapped in your mind and you rushed to grab the other womans arm and dragging her out of here, she squirmed into your grip, clearly not wanting you to touch her but you didn’t care at this point. Just the moment you both got out, the building crushed together.

„Don’t fucking touch me!“ She growled, you having other plans though. „Are you kidding me? You are arrested.“ You said before a coworker joined you, his expression almost scared as he saw your grip on the other womans arm. „How…did you get her?“ He asked before taking the handcuffs, making sure to put them around her wrists, you both having a hard time to make her stay still but you somehow managed it together.

„What? Why are you so shocked? Isn’t that my job?“ You asked him and his answer kind of surprised you. „That’s Jinx. You have never heard of her? She is well known for doing crimes. You will get a huge price for catching her!“

Your eyes widen in surprise. That woman was Jinx? She didn’t even try to fight you but why? Why was she so easy to get? Something is definitely off here. Jinx didn’t even look at you both, she looked to the ground, looking at absolutely nothing. She looked empty and sad. She did give up so quickly it made you wonder why or was it a trick?

Ever since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about Jinx. You wondered why she didn’t try to escape from you, she could easily turn into her wolf form and escape also the colour of her eyes…that pink colour. Usually werewolves had golden eyes, why were hers so…unique? You wanted to know more about her.

It was your free day but you still made your way to the cells, the urge to see Jinx again and getting to know more about her was just too intense. You knew she probably wouldn’t want to talk but at least you could try. Maybe you could also understand how that species is thinking and if they really are this bad. You always believed in the good in people and you wanted to give it a try.

When you stood in front of her cell you saw her being all curled up in the corner, her long blue hair hanging over her face you could barely see her. The walls of the cell were covered in scratch marks, telling you she probably freaked out in there. You didn’t even habe to say anything, she could sense your presence, her head slowly lifting to look at you, thise eyes already made you feel lost in them. Her gaze was tired, she was tired. Probably from crying, her dark makeup all smudged, cheeks stained with dried tears. „What do you want? Judging me?“ She grumbled but you didn’t answer yet. You crouched down to be the same level as her, showing her you don’t wanna do anything bad. „I want to understand you.“ You finally spoke with a soft voice, making her grunt in return. „No one understands me.“ She said, both of you staying silent for a while before she finally decided to say something.

„I lost everyone. My father is dead because of me fucking up…my sister blaming me for everything that ever went wrong and left me for a fancy bitch that hates me, everyone hates me. What’s the point of trying to keep a living? Nothing. I have no one.“ Her sudden openness was surprising but you understood the part of having no one. „You know…I have no one as well…my brother…he is gone. I don’t know if he is even alive anymore. Our parents died when we were younger.“ You mentioned, looking at Jinx who hugged herself as her nails digged into her upper arms, making her bleed. „You don’t understand half of what I am feeling.“ She continued pushing you away with her words but you stayed stubborn. „So all of this chaos because you have no one?“ You dared to ask and she snorted, snapping her head up as she looked at you, her eyes filled with rage but also with pain. „I wanted to show them all! I wanted to show what I can do! But…I always end up fucking up so I accepted that this is all I can do. I can’t do anything good.“ She snarled before getting up, walking towards you as she grabbed the metal rods of the cell. „What do you even know? You’re just a human.“

„Maybe I am just a human.“ You said before standing up as well, looking directly into her eyes. „You decided to cause trouble here. That’s not your home, that’s just not right. Of course we have to do something about it don’t we?“

„A human killed my father! My fault or not he died by a humans hands! I hate you! I hate what you are!“ She kept on yelling at you, her rage radiating a lot of power but you stayed calm. „You would have been arrested in your own home as well by doing that crime. You can’t blame every human for what they have done to your family. I do believe that if we would work together instead of wanting to erase each other we will have a much more peaceful life.“ You explained, her expression still angry but surprisingly she listened to you. „Jinx. You can do better than that I know it. I don’t care what you are. You are unique. Please remember my words okay? Think about it.“ You said before turning to leave, hoping Jinx will really think about what you told her. Maybe you had a chance to get her convinced to use her intelligence and powers for good. Just maybe.

To be continued

I hope you enjoyed the first part!! It’s more of an introduction but dw part 2 will come soon! Let me know if you like this story and wanna see more. I have a lot for you incoming. ❤️

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am not sure where my fascination with disasters came from, but I have had it for a long, long time. So much so that I very specifically remember being in Middle School and writing a short story about a tornado hitting our school and trapping all the students in the gym (but none of the teachers, of course, because what fun would it be if the teachers were around?). My poor teacher didn't quite know what to do with me when she tried to pair everyone up by genre to critique one another's stories, as no one else had written something remotely similar. It didn't matter though, I was hooked. That afternoon I was standing in my garage and thinking about how I wanted to grow up to be an author who wrote disaster stories, and I wanted to write one story about each kind of disaster.

After several years (and two agents) trying to get these books picked up traditionally with no luck, I've decided to just do it myself. And so, the Little Disaster Books collection has been born! When you pick up a Little Disaster Book, here's what you're going to get:

A short read. Each book is around 50,000-70,000 words. That's a bit longer than a novella, and shorter than most novels, because sometimes you just need a quick book, not a door-stopper.

Each book is a standalone. Because, again, sometimes you just need something quick that you don't have to invest in for a decade while you wait for each book to come out.

Lots of queer characters of all sorts. The disaster genre is, unfortunately, pretty notorious for either not having queer characters at all, or killing them off. Little Disaster Books will instead center them and their narratives. But, the stories won't be ABOUT queerness, they'll just have characters that are queer.

No quickie romance. There will be characters in relationships (I'm a sucker for books with couples that are already together at the start), and maybe the first blooms of a potential romance, but nobody is falling head over heels when they should be focused on survival.

No gore for gore's sake. Characters might get hurt, or even die, but these aren't horror books or slasher books or anything in that vein.

A realistic look at disaster. I'm not just obsessed with fictional disasters, I'm obsessed with the real ones too. I have spent a lot of time studying disasters, myths around disasters/disaster response, and the sociology of disasters. With Little Disaster Books I have worked very, very hard to make the books as realistic as possible when it comes to things like civilian responders, everyday heroes, and how disaster response tends to work. At the end of the day they are still fiction, but they're fiction heavily grounded in reality. No "everyone for themselves/we're all animals when the lights go out" nonsense here.

Full endings. There's a bit of a trend in survival thrillers for them to end right at the climax/moment of rescue, or within a few pages of it, even if things haven't been fully wrapped up. Little Disaster Books will all have more rounded endings that delve, at least a little bit, into the aftereffects of what the characters go through, because sometimes the after is the hardest part of all.

The first book in this collection, Lie Down in the Ashes, is launching on Kickstarter on Janaury 15th, 2025! Sign up to be notified on launch here. It is about a group of teens who get caught in the middle of a fast moving wildfire that one of them accidentally starts.

Sign up to be notified on launch here.

[angelmichelangelo]

Any thoughts/opinions on TMNT 2007, either in comparison to other iterations or about the characters/relationships in general?

oh boy have i got some thoughts on TMNT 2007 !

straight off the bat i’d say it feels so set apart from all of the other ninja turtles movies we had/have at that point. they’re a little older (i can’t remember the canon ages but wasn’t it pretty much fanon for a long time that they were at least early 20s?) and starts their story off kinda at their end.

2007 was also supposedly a continuation of the 1990s movies. whether you want that to be solid canon or not (personally i don’t) but either way, they’re kind of in “retirement” stage of their lives with everything with shredder already happened and this is kind of just the aftermath of that.

the relationships in this movie !!!!! oh my GOD it’s just near to absolute perfection. i usually don’t always super love the classic raph/leo tension just because sometimes it feels a little overdone and can really take away the shine from other aspects of the movie, but i really do like how different it feels here.

raph is so obviously not coping with having so much of his family dynamics changed. and i think that’s why the whole aspect of the movie being set after all of their biggest most heroic adventures works well, because in a way, this movie just highlights how much their lifestyle has impacted them. imo raph struggles with having leo so far from home. he’s going through a little bit of separation anxiety, can’t regulate his emotions properly and lashes out bad.

leo obviously takes this all the wrong ways. he’s going through something too so he’s blind-sighted to the fact that raph isn’t intentionally trying to piss him off. they’re back butting heads maybe because it feels most familiar in a way that hasn’t been since leo left.

b-team in this movie is just. chefs kiss. so much to unpack here, too.

donnie who is finally being highlighted for how much he does for his family behind the scenes, normally quietly bumbling along, now here he is, trying to keep a sense of normality and feeling under appreciated!! which rightly so!! he kind of just gets this shit load of responsibility thrusted onto him when leo leaves and raph distances himself. he’s treading water in the deep end, barely afloat but rarely does he really lash out because he wants to do good, and keep peace (mostly for mikey’s sake, I would argue)

and mikey. oh mikey. easily one of my favourite interpretations of mikey in this movie. he’s kind of mellowing out and maturing in a way that i think hits leo with full force when he comes home from south america. all because he’s had to grow up and pick up the pieces left behind in the wake of their family kind of slowly crumbling apart.

they’re all hurting in this movie but mikey’s hurt is so painfully obvious and so masked when he’s putting up with a job he really hates, barely seeing much of either brother he has left because of their schedules and feels cooped up. he trips over himself with just pure glee when he sees that leo is finally home. he’s still that kid at heart, despite everything, that truly believes that his big brother can mend this. it’s a really bittersweet thing to think of him just hoping his life would fall back into place again after it being so out of sorts for so long.

TMNT 2007 isn’t a perfect movie by any means. whilst i adore the way the turtles have been written, is still falls into the trap of making don + mike background characters towards the last half, giving leo + raph the limelight once again, and sometimes leo does act a little out of sorts but i could just pin that down to him having some sort of PTSD, so it remains high in my ranks regardless.

it’s not perfect but it’s still really really good. the animation holds up pretty well. it paved the way for 2012 in regards to CGI turtles. the voice acting is something i don’t see hyped up enough. nolan north as raphael?!!! i feel like as a fandom we definitely sleep on that fact way too hard

the plot is original and fresh and it’s clear that this wasn’t just a cash grab, but a real love letter to the franchise and to the fans:) the people that made this cared for these characters and this world and it shows :)

the fight scenes are really fun and easy to follow. the leo raph rooftop scene is just incredibly done. whoever wrote that.. please always be involved in tmnt wherever you are.. honestly pure fire some of those lines

nobody feels like a caricature of themselves here, which often happens with tmnt when a new universe is introduced, just to establish their character roles. i really love the thought of them in the wake of the fight and after the dust settles and they’re trying to cope with their feelings and problems separately because they don’t know what else to do. they need a million hugs, please, i would love to see more of this that isn’t just the last ronin. show me the turtles in their 30s trying to adjust to their lives changing drastically as they’re getting older and recognising their trauma, finally. i would eat that up!

in anyone hasn’t seen TMNT 2007 (which, i’d assume most of my followers probably has) then i would absolutely recommend it !!

forever mourning the mikey centric sequel we were supposed to get before the studio shut down and forever sending wishes up that there’s someone out there with enough money and a dream to bring it to life in some way shape or form (i���ll take a comic. a mini series. anything lmao)

TMNT 2007 will always have a special place in my heart :)

[snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes]

ヤッホー ！！スナクがきついたよ！°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

でも 日本語が少し分かります

ngl my ass had to whip out my old dictionary because I doubt my reading level is a solid N5 when I don't practice as often as I should. also since japanese is my third language so idk, I'm gonna try ok

so! i do rag on and bully these poor turtles a lot but the kanji on them is very like.... gymbro style "fire", "dragon", "strength" type of tattooing or marking oneself. Which does fit considering Bay splinter taught them ninjutsu from a book he found while sweeping the sewers. To me, they're canonical ninjaboos (affectionate).

but usually it's like a motto or a mantra or an oath that's tattooed if ever but that's neither koko nor soko

_ _ _

starting with Leo's bandana

So yeah, confirmed for 息子, musuko. more or less. looks like 'musu' is missing a few strokes plus a few misplaced ones. anyway. looks like it was written on with a paint pen. i would think splinter wrote it because it just seems kinda weird for Leo to have written it himself. i don't have the linguistic perspective to describe why it seems weird to just have "son" on his mask. "blue son" would be less weird actually, "beloved son" would work. "upstanding son". but just "son" is like... idk man, ig, they replaced it with a bunch of staples in 2016 so moot

I cannnnnot get a clean shot of his shell kanji the only clear part is 子

three zero action figure of Out of the Shadows Leonardo

I got this from the figure but even zoomed in I can't make heads or tails of the first kanji, i feel like this puzzle is for someone whose first language is japanese

visually something about the top kanji makes me think about those "fonts" that arbitrarily assign kanji radicals to the english alphabet to "spell" things. at most it looks like whatever kanji it is it has the 勹 radical other than that? a mystery to me

_ _ _

now for Raph's 憤

which is an example of what I mean by gymbro-style "dragon" or "strength" tattoos in that 憤 is not exactly a word by itself, it's part of a word or I guess concept would be better? either way it's like writing "indig" instead of "indignation"

憤慨 fungai, is "indignation", technically it IS also "anger" in that when you resent someone you're also a little angry at them. Which considering... Raph does a lot of resenting, he resented being benched, he resented not being told about the purple ooze, he resented Leo for disregarding not only his but also Mikey's input.

i guess if you wanted to keep 憤 then 憤激 (fungeki) fury would work?

i think the funniest thing is the font choice for 憤 as it's written on his bandana because it's like a very official for-use-in-textbooks type of font. like the kind of font for government buildings or legal documents.

tried to find in-movie examples alas, three zero coming in clutch with the clearest details for at least the Out of the Shadows designs. but. looks like another chopping problem where there's 憤 and 怒 which together don't really make a word. although 怒 oko from ��るokoru which is the "angry" you use when you say things like "I'm angry!" again, both kanji are written with the legal document font which: haha heehee

獣 confirmed though i'd go so far as to guess he meant for it be "brute" either way it hurts a little because the connotation is like "unthinking beast compared to thinking human", like the whole sort of "the difference between 'animal' and 'man' is like logic/reason/empathy whatever". especially since this is his 2014 design when he was accusing April of taking pictures of the freaks to show her friends

_ _ _

now for donnie's 明

i think this is another case of just putting in a piece of a word. 明 by itself is like the phenomenon of something being visually bright and the light we see but i'm guessing they were thinking of trying to put adjectives on them for in-jokey sort of design tells. in that case I would have opted for like 説明 setsumei (explanation) which.... explains itself ba dum tss or i guess on a more serious take 明確 meikaku (precise, clear, definite) which is bay Donnie with his habit of expressing the probability of something happening in percentages down to the like 8th decimal place

_ _ _

annnd Mikey's 仲

This one was a little frustrating as the most handwritten looking one. at one point I swore it looked like 5 TH but whether the top mark is a 5 or an S or even a 己 at a stretch. again it seems someone who might have a passing familiarity with how hanzi/kanji works possibly swiped a part because given 仲 I'd have went with 仲間 nakama yes like from One Piece, comrade, the kind you go up to bat for or fight a shark man with a chainsaw for a nose. hell 仲良し nakayoshi the shoujo manga magazine?! good friend/close friend, Mikey can be anyone's nakayoshi and if you're not careful to stay aloof Mikey will instantly consider you nakama.

hoo, yeah, those are my best guesses idk man

Okay nertles, I need Bayverse help on my little investigation and appreciation journey. Today I’m looking into the kanji on the turtle designs, please help me fill in the blanks and correct me!

Leonardo’s shell has a painted 子 for son, and also “ne” sign of the rat in the zodiac (which isn’t just interesting in the Splinter way, but in the way that the ninja turtles were first conceived of in 1983 but published in May of 1984, making the franchise’s “birth year” the year of the Rat). His bandanna tails either say 忍 子 patience and son or just son 息子

Raphael’s scarification on his right arm, bandanna, and shell are all the same, “憤”indignant/hate, but beneath it on his shell is “怒” which means to get angry (like ok, we get it), and his bandanna appears to say “beast” 獣.

Donatello’s bandanna tails have bright 明 on them.

And Michelangelo has this, and I can’t find anyone talking about this at all but it looks like poorly written kanji for naka, go-between/relationship “仲”, which would make so much sense with his being the heart of the group and most socially outgoing.

I’m so sure there’s more, pretty sure Mike and Don both also have shell paint but I can’t find good screens. Will update this as people add if they do.

[katzkinder]

@ky-kyu you asked about gluttony pair and it got kinda long so I decided to make it a separate post for the sake of people's dashboards. Also, I have another post here!

But I have more thoughts on them thanks to this page Yarra shared earlier, and many more besides, but I'll stick to this scene because otherwise this will really turn into a monster.

the wording nicco uses in the right panel is pretty moving, especially in relation to gluttony, at least in my opinion, and these scene between them is what really made me fall in love with these two as characters who were, quite literally, made for one another.

Basically, it's about how the opposite of Gluttony is a banquet.

Having so much excess and sharing it with others, allowing someone to fill their plate without worry because you know you have more, and how that relates to Nicco being the Eve who has an entire group of people surrounding him at all times, something which makes him unique as far as the main cast go because he's always being supported. The other Eves don't really have like... An entire group of human characters they're close with the way Nicco does.

A banquet without guests will simply rot and go to waste. Nicco, being a mafia boss, brings all those guests with him and allows them to partake of what he has to offer.

Food tastes the best when you share it with someone you love, and your joy is multiplied through their own. The joy of a shared meal cannot be understated. Even terrible food becomes fun when you have someone to laugh about it with. Even failure becomes tolerable when you share it.

And it's just. One of the first moments of big characterization we get from Ildio when we see his past is that he is a man who shares what little he has, even though he acknowledges that he has earned it, and the little slave girl has not. Even that far back, when his only desires went as far as an animal understanding of life, he was someone who could have, and probably did, draw in others around him for that unthinking kindness, so I really love how Nicco handles his problems. Because they actually share a similar fault

Both of them will attempt to take on too much for themselves to bear, and yet they can't help it. To defend the weak is what they feel they must do.

Gluttons for punishment, as it goes

And yet...

To be able to share the pain and the joys, to have a feast with one another with life as the centerpiece…

I think it's just… Extremely beautiful, the way their love for their fellow man is able to express itself

And I think it's even more beautiful, the way that even when being beat to a pulp, Nicco takes the time to look and see and experience the pain Ildio doesn't even realize he's holding onto

He doesn't let Inner Gluttony distract him. He doesn't entertain the demon attempting, however poorly, to shelter Ildio's heart by putting the blinders on. He speaks to him as an equal. As a friend. As someone who is worth listening to, and cherishing. He helps Ildio to face his grief.

He gives Ildio the same love he would give to any friend. Bite by bite, tear by tear, Nicco shares the burden Ildio tried to be Atlas about.

The song Nicco sings while they dance with the people they've loved and lost is Ciuri Ciuri. It's a Sicilian folksong, whose title means "Flowers, Flowers"

The verse Strike has carefully written out on the page translates to "Flowers flowers, flowers all the year. The love you gave me, I give you back"

And the love Nicco gives to Ildio...

Ildio will give back to him.

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. I was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately learning her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

[softestqueeen]

prompt 23 "Can I sleep in your room tonight? Is that a weird thing to ask?" for Penelope Garcia x fem!reader?

congrats on 500!! <3

a/n: thank you sm for requesting something! i had a lot of fun writing this (even though i'm not happy with the aprupt end) and i'm so glad to finally have written someting with garcia, because she is honestly such an underated character! she also looks so insanely pretty in this gif. but anyways, enjoy <3 warnings: mentioning of fictional case, just fluff I 1167 words pairing: penelope garcia x fem!reader special prompts I special masterlist

There were only very few instances where Penelope Garcia had to leave her Badcave and travel with her fellow colleagues of the BAU.

This time, the unit chief Aaron Hotchner, thought her expectise could be very helpful on sire, so here she was in Detrot, Michigan.

No matter how much she loved her colleagues, who were more her family than anything, she really didn't like the gruesome details and crime scene pictures. But unfortunately, being on site meant being way too close to these crazy sickos than she'd like.

This case was especially gruesome, the lifeless bodies of young women turning up almost daily, intricate online puzzles forums demanding every waking moment of Penelope's mind. The murderer(s) left the clues to these sites on his crime scnes, which meant Garcia wasn't just in the precinct with them, but had to go to the actual crime scenes.

Until now it was easy for the technical analyst to distance herself from the crimes, shenanigans with Morgan and cute baby animal videos serving as the perfect distraction for the gruesome murders.

The last victim though, hit a little too close to home.

When Garcia arrived at the crime scene with you, her best friend whom she also has a very big crush on, she could already feel the weird energy. The flat in which the victim would have been quite nice, if it weren't for the blood covering almost every surface of the living room.

But what really shook Penelope to her very core, was how much the victim looked like you. Similar hair colour, length, features and even the dress she was wearing could have been easily taken out of your wardrobe.

The technical analyst couldn't bare to stay for long, taking the nessecary evidence and quickly excusing herself to get some fresh air. She waited outside until you were done surveying the rest of the scene.

The moment your best friend hastily excused herself from the scene, you knew something was wrong. You knew this was hard for her, but this scene seemed to be very personal for her. Trying to wrap things up as fast as possible, you quickly joined Garcia again and the two of you wenr back to the station.

Not too long after you went back, Hotch told you all to get back to the hotel and get some rest.

Penelope was glad that she could finally get some rest and didn't have to look at the pictures of a woman that looked so much like you. Since seeing a more normal picture of the last victim, she realised that all of the past victims had similar traits to you.

The first victim had the same haircut, later a victim had the same nose and one even had the same first name. Oh boy, she did not like that.

When she got to her room, she took a shower, put on her comfiest pyjamas and tried to go to sleep. But she just couldn't. Everytime she closed her eyes it wasn't just anyone being brutally stabbed to death, it was you.

So, she decided to calm her mind by going to your room m and check up on you. Just a little hello and a quick hey, are you still alive or have you been stabbed? no? great, then have a good night and then she would be on her way again. Right, that's what she would do.

Garcia got up, put on her fluffy slipper and went to your room. Before knocking, she hesitated. Were you already asleep? Were you curently showering? But she also knew that she had to see you or she wouldn't be able to sleep.

What she failed to think about was that she was wearing her pyjamas and so would you. So, when you opened the door in short shorts and a tight tank top with no bra, Penelope was momentarily speechless.

“Oh, hey Garcia. Is everything all right?” Your question was justified after she had been weird after seeing the last crime scene.

“Oh- um hey, so yes- uhm no? Actually, I’m not alright could I come in?” Garcia quickly snapped out of it, her voice getting more quiet though with her last sentence.

“Yes, of course. You know you can always talk to me about anything, you know that.” You opened the door for your best friend and sat down on your bed, gesturing for her to do the same.

“Can I sleep in your room tonight? Is that a weird thing to ask? Oh no, I think it is, forget I said anything.” Penelope hadn’t even panned to say this, but in this moment, she realised that this was the only thing that would ultimately bring her any comfort.

“Garcia, that is not weird at all. Of course you can sleep in my room, like a sleepover.” You were glad that she wasn’t looking at you in that moment, because just thinking about sharing a bed with your crush (who was unfortunately also your best friend) brought a blush to your cheeks.

“You know you don’t have to talk about what’s on your mind, but just know, you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything, okay?” you told her with a gentle voice before putting your hand on her shoulder and rubbing comforting circles on into her skin.

Not wanting to pressure her into talking, you suggest laying down pulling the comforter back for Garcia and slipping under the covers next to her. Before you laid down though, you put on the bedside lamps and turned off the big light, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Once you’ve both settled in, Garcia admitted with a small voice. “They look like you.”

“Who?”

“The victims. When we went into this apartment today, I didn’t just see a dead woman, but I saw you. And since then, I realised that a lot of them have similar traits to you. I can’t stop thinking about you laying there with stab wounds all over you. I cannot lose you.”

Her voice was oh so soft and by the end a few tears had escaped her eyes. You lean over to her and cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears.

“Oh, Garcia, but I’m here. Nothing has happened, I’m alive and well. I didn’t realise seeing that crime scene made you so upset, even though I realised that something was off. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine, I think. I already feel a bit better, even though I’m crying at the moment. I’m just sick of seeing all those sickos doing this disgusting stuff to women who look like you.”

You knew in that moment, that what your best friend needed the most at the moment, was reassurance, not just verbally. So, you scooted closer to her and pulled her in for a big hug, which Garcia immediately responded to, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m here for you, always.”

That night, Penelope could comfortably fall asleep without worries.

the requests for this event are OPEN! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

[cadhla182]

Hey how’s it going? Wanted to ask what your thoughts were on dandadan. Usually I have a decent tolerance for anime shit but it’s starting to fray. Not trying to rain on anyone’s parade just curious about your perspective

It's one of my favourite pieces of media in recent years with some of my favourite depictions of dumbass teens struggling to navigate their own feelings and social structures. They're often failing but genuinely trying.

Momo Ayase is one of my favourite protagonists in anything and one of the best written women in anime. She's allowed to be every bit the badass shounen protagonists that anime usually doesn't allow female characters to be while still being distinctly feminine. And she's also a deeply flawed asshole teen doing her best.

Her and Okarun are the most I've cared about a het romance in a while and it's so rare to see any action media driven by romance that's written so well and gives both parties equal agency. These two care about each other and navigating that awkwardly as a pair of kids coming into their own drives the whole plot.

The antagonists all tend to focus on violence that women face and depict it in interesting ways without shying away from the context matter. Acro Silky in particular is haunting and beautiful made all the more heavy by the fact that we don't know why it happened or what happened to her daughter. The entire emotional weight of it all and responsibility to empathize is being handled by a pair if teenage girls who should not have to deal with it.

Also a ghost stole Okarun's balls and that's hilarious.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Why Joo Jaekyung is a sad, sad boy with a more tragic backstory than Kim Dan:

Probably…

Joo Jaekyung fascinates me and I actually think Mingwa has given a lot of hints to some major sad boy backstory moments that I am now going to spend way too much time going into!

Enjoy:

1) Joo Jaekyung grew up dirt poor

Joo Jaekyung now has money to burn, but there’s something about his reaction to Kim Dan’s home that I find fascinating. Now within the realms of fiction I would say rich people going into the homes of the very poor typically act as though it’s a novelty. So they’re intrigued like ‘woah, so small’. Joo Jaekyung acts as though he’s been personally offended by the state of Kim Dan’s home and instantly whisks him back to his very expensive apartment.

Yes he blames it on Kim Dan being a sad pathetic wet kitten, but I think there’s definitely a lot more to it than that.

Joo Jaekyung’s peculiar relationship with money raises its head again with his reactions to Birthdays.

The man completely loses his shit over a celebration for him and is consistently derogatory about the gifts he receives from people he doesn’t know. But what about gifts from people he does know?

I personally think Mingwa draws Joo Jaekyung as an animated type of person. He consistently has reactions to things before he responds and the responses don’t always match his initial reaction.

The gift from Kim Dan is a great example of this because the initial reaction drawn on his face is bafflement. I honestly think Kim Dan is the first person who has gotten Joo Jaekyung a gift for who he is rather than what he represents. Joo Jaekyung gets a ridiculous amount of gifts as a celebrity, but from an individual that knows him I think the key ring is the first time. He literally doesn’t know what to do with it and so he goes into attack mode and completely tears Kim Dan down rather than accept a gift.

Why? Because Joo Jaekyung is triggered by acts of affection. He literally cannot handle them.

2) Joo Jaekyung was starved of affection when he was younger.

In a way, Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan actually compliment each other really well, one is completely emotionally stunted whilst the other wears their heart on their sleeve. Throughout the manhwa we get a ton of insight into Kim Dan’s feelings, about his Grandma, about Joo Jaekyung and about sex.

Joo Jaekyung literally gives nothing away. Except when it’s written all over his face.

Literally any time Kim Dan initiates any kind of affection with him, Joo Jaekyung is presented as shocked, confused, baffled.

In fact his issues with intimacy kind of spark off the whole plot. Kim Dan being dirt broke and entering into a financial agreement to have sex with him works perfectly, because it’s a transaction. Surely Kim Dan will hate him for all he puts him through?

Apart from the fact this man is constantly doling out acts of service.

3) Joo Jaekyung has a love language and is basically screaming at Kim Dan.

Technically some of Joo Jaekyung’s acts of service (moving Kim Dan into his home, paying his debts, paying his grandmothers medical fees) fall into financial coercion. But the majority have no benefit to Joo Jaekyung at all.

- Giving Kim Dan Medicine for his wounds. (This one has no benefit to Joo Jaekyung at all. It’s just a nice thing to do)

- Visiting Kim Dan’s grandma (He didn’t have to spend so much time with her. He could’ve just paid up the bills to increase Kim Dan’s debt but he was there long enough for her to become his second biggest fan (after Potato) and enjoy a drink from the fridge.

- Beating up the mob that threatened Kim Dan. (again, could’ve just paid the debt but decided to be extra about it)

- Giving him the jacket (this one is actually really funny to me because it comes from a place of jealousy. Kim Dan was offered so many jackets my boy had to pelt him in the face with his own).

4) Joo Jaekyung’s responses to his own affection have been warped.

Jealousy motivates him to the most extreme behaviours. Kim Dan bonding with the other gym members - can of coke over the head. The whole power play with Heesung as well when Heesung got a bit suspicious there was an affection there.

It’s not affection, it’s ownership. Except it’s only ownership because Joo Jaekyung says it is because if it was ownership he wouldn’t need to do so many acts of service.

In Bj Alex Mingwa used the whole trope of I hate love and affection because I got burned after being close to someone and I wouldn’t be surprised at all if this is the case with Joo Jaekyung.

In fact, I’d argue that Joo Jaekyung having a hang up over a past relationship is the root of his dislike of Heesung, since Heesung is canonically portrayed as someone with wandering affections.

5) Joo Jaekyung only believes he has value when he is winning and consistently abuses his body because his self worth is non-existent.

Joo Jaekyung is consistently portrayed as being vile to everyone around him, but what I think is interesting is that he is equally vile to himself. Maybe even more so since his abuse of himself extends to the physical.

Throughout Kim Dan makes it clear to the reader that Joo Jaekyung overtrains. He also tortures his body on several occasions, particularly when they go to America, getting to weight and then using his damaged shoulder to win.

I cringed when his foot was getting stomped on in his last fight.

But the reason he does all these things is because losing is not an option. His entire self worth is built upon being a champion, which makes it temporary. Now it’s gone, he has no self worth hence the complete spiral he is on in season 2.

At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if after the chasing and botched attempts at grovelling (he’s so emotionally stunted and repressed he’s never going to be able to grovel conventionally) are complete, the end goal for Joo Jaekyung will be to find self worth and acceptance of affection within his relationship with Kim Dan. Basically he needs to see himself the way Kim Dan does.

Basically the reason I think Joo Jaekyung overtakes Kim Dan’s sad boy role is:

Kim Dan is a man who got himself into a lot of debt, suffered a traumatic event at work and didn’t have the most financially wealthy upbringings, but he did grow up loved and knowing he was loved. He doesn’t fight for self worth although he is lonely.

Joo Jaekyung has never had those kinds of relationships until Kim Dan. Though he has no idea how to handle them. I really do think Mingwa is telling Joo Jaekyung’s backstory through action and behaviour at this point and I think he is more than worthy of sitting at the saddest boys in bl table.

[artbyblastweave]

I respect you always trying to give Millar a fair shake as an author. I can't stand the guy or his formula, but there's something that has always bugged me:

Superman Adventures, the tie-in comic he wrote for Superman: The Animated Series, ruled. It was legitimately phenomenal, self-contained action/adventure stories. Just really solid Superman work.

How did he off-handedly make something I like so much more? Is he just secretly so good at kids adventure stories, that he just finds it boring and does crap like The Unfunnies instead? Is it related to his time working with Morrison (and allegedly, borrowing some ideas)?

That first thing- him being secretly good at kids adventure stories- I actually think is very close to what's going on. I don't know the specifics of Millar and Morrison's falling out, but it isn't remotely surprising to me that the two of them aligned enough to work together in the first place, because they're both sincerely enamored with the straightforward cornball antics and aesthetics of the silver age- at the end of the day they both think the superhero genre, and genre stuff more broadly, is really really cool.

The bulk of Millar's oeuvre- and in particular his recent oeuvre- consists of short, straightforward, sincere two-fisted romps, within the superhero space and outside of it- Starlight, Huck, Superior, Chrononauts, Beyond, Space Bandits, more still that I haven't read. All jazzed up with violence and cussing, all transparently being written for adaptation by Netflix, but we can briefly be kind. Jupiter's Circle worked for me as well as it did because it married an obvious sincere appreciation for the aesthetics and plots of the Silver Age with an awareness of the seediness and moral rot of 1960s culture that actual silver-age comics didn't or couldn't acknowledge- FBI ratfucking, cowardly superheroic inaction in the face of segregation, capes having affairs with groupies or being forced into comphet marriages for appearances sake. Despite being one of the high-water marks for edginess in his overall career, both Old Man Logan and Wanted are both deeply thematically hung up on the quiet, miserable desperation of a world where evil has won so decisively. In Wanted in particular the villain protagonists won't shut up about how much more meaningful life was before they killed all the joy in the world, and although I haven't read it I'll eat my hat if that same idea isn't in the subtext of The Unfunnies. On the other side of things, I've written previously about how Kick-Ass really didn't work for me because Millar spent the first half of the book convincingly rendering the "superhero" as a unsalvagably pathetic role, but at the last minute he pivoted to trying to write the straightforward goodies-and-baddies story that does genuinely seem to be his default, and the result was a dissonant mess.

So, yeah, if Mark Millar writes a solid Superman it's probably down to him genuinely liking unreconstructed Superman and having a fun time with it, and also not being allowed by editorial to plaster the page in swears and grotesque caricatures. Or it might predate him really leaning into that as part of his brand, I don't actually have a great grasp on what his output from before The Authority looks like. Probably a number of things going on with this.

[you-cant-fuck-megaman]

friend got me the Battle Network Legacy Collection

Battle Network isn't my favorite series in the franchise, but I like it quite a lot and so it's been a lot of fun zipping through the games again and one of the biggest things i like about it are the redesigned takes on existing Robot Masters, particularly the way they get split into two components: a human avatar and a network avatar. a humansona and a netsona. a persona and a fursona, if you will.

one of my favorite things about shounen anime is that everyone has a fucking Gimmick. nobody just casually likes baseball--they also have to wear jerseys everywhere, scream all hot-blooded about the necessity of teamwork, eat dinner off of the home plate, and sleep with their bat on a pillow stuffed with balls. some people will say this is unrealistic, but those people have clearly never talked to a Pokémon fan. plus, y'know, that's what most kids and teenagers do: they find something cool and feel the need to bring it up at every opportunity, because they're growing and want approval for their burgeoning interests. meanwhile, i fucking love it when people are passionate about their interests and make it their entire personality.

so in my opinion, the best Battle Network designs are ones that lean into this and are complimentary on both the NetOp side and the NetNavi side, both of them coalescing around a singular Gimmick and leaning into it with the subtlety of a hammer. Dex and GutsMan.EXE are great because Dex is all in on "guts" as a concept, acting primarily with his heart and charging straight through, representing both an overwhelming emphasis on strength and his misplaced confidence in sheer machismo. Count Zap is basically the best fucking character in existence, both as a compliment to ElecMan.EXE and as a standalone villain, and the anime only made him even better.

there's the stinkers, of course. Speedy Dave is a complete nothingburger of a character, to the point where both the games, anime, and manga have completely different takes on him that head up in entirely separate directions, and with QuickMan.EXE having absolutely no relation to any of them. both Mayl and Roll.EXE suffer from needing to be The Girl for their dedicated character gimmick, as written by people who think that Being A Girl is enough of a personality trait to write about this year. WHEW. time to take the season off.

but there's always going to be stinkers. that's kind of the downfall with any long-running series that A: needs to consistently put out Moar Content and B: focus on character designs first and foremost and fleshing them out second. they're showcases to get you to engage with the gameplay, and then the manga/anime have to pick up the slack after the fact. it's like being handed a glass cylinder and then being told "make this useful"--there's only so much shit an anime can do with a glass cylinder, and they sure as fuck aren't going to make it a dildo.

i keep dropping the anime, i really should continue it and see it through further. it's not awful, just a very generic shounen most of the time; i keep wanting it to be unnecessarily overdramatic like the BN manga or completely fucking unhinged like Ruby Spears Megaman, and it really isn't that

[bloodhoundsandplagues]

How can I make it OK?

Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary : you're homesick.

gender neutral reader, no use of y/n, not explicitly romantic unless you wanna read it that way, 3K words

Warnings : swearing, mentions of suicide, panic attack described in semi detail, not the jolliest thing i've ever written

A/N : first post that's actually writing in 2025 ! wrote most of this on the train while listening to house in nebraska by ethel cain and more than this by wolf alice so yeah. also this isn't arthur heavy in the sense that it's reader rambling about being homesick mostly. to be read in a southern accent as god intended

Of all the places I have travelled with the Van Der Linde gang, I think this is my least favourite. 

Living- or rather, camping- in the ruins of some plantation, bodies of the former owners stagnating in the pond. Sometimes I hear ‘em- the ghosts, in the walls, screamin’. I know it’s my mind, playing tricks on me; but it’s harder to have that rational thought when you’re lying alone in the middle of the night, wind whistling through broken windows. It’s not that I don’t like having a roof over my head. Shit, everyone in this godforsaken gang is happy to have a real shelter from the weather, even one as flimsy as this house. So I shut my mouth, hunt as I’m expected-which is what I am doing now, borrowed bow over my shoulder, quiver resting comfortingly between my shoulder blades. 

Hunting is familiar. Back in the Grizzlies, where my daddy raised me, we’d go out any time of day, in any weather, hunt for the coming storms. I’d do everything the way he taught me to- lay out traps, wait behind a boulder, bow in hand. It builds patience, he told me when I asked why the hell we didn’t just track the damn animal, instead of waitin’ in the cold for it to find us. 

Now, it’s not cold, and dear old daddy ain’t here to help. 

I left my horse hitched by a lake, with enough grass for him to be fed and well until I bring back something worthy of Pearson. It’s near sunrise; already, the heat is uncomfortable; my skin is sticky, my clothes uncomfortable. It’s moments like these that I long for the snow. 

I wipe my forehead with the back of my head. I’ve been walking for a little while now, waiting for a pack of deer to pass by. There’s something that bothers me about killing them- maybe it’s their eyes, so big and brown, caught frozen as they stare at you. Or maybe it’s their resemblance to this little girl I knew, at a local village at the base of the mountain where I grew up. 

I shake the thought of her big brown eyes and twitchy nose as I spot a herd of ‘em, grazing near a small stream. There’s enough light for me to count them- seven, big enough to feed us. 

I get on one knee, like my daddy taught me. Notch an arrow in the bow, pull it back. One of the poor animals raises its head, looks in my direction. 

Before I can hesitate, I let go, and the arrow flies; a fraction of a second later, it has notched itself in the animal’s throat. It falls; its friends, the rest of its herd (its gang, I think, almost laughing) scamper off, into the woods. I don’t go after them. Pearson will have to do with this, and whatever herbs or mushrooms I’m able to pick up. 

The doe is dead by the time I reach her. I kneel. Pull the arrow from her neck; thick, sticky blood gets on my hands. I almost reach for snow, to clean it off; curse myself when my fingertips meet grass and mud. The doe’s dead eye stares up at me, brown and empty as the sky. I resist the urge to close them. 

“Sorry, sweet.” I whisper it as I hoist her up, put her over my shoulder. She’s heavy. I must be getting blood on my shirt- it’s a shame, because it’s my favourite colour, and I’ve just bought it. 

I swallow any regrets I feel as I walk back to my horse, the weight of the doe uncomfortable against my bow and quiver. 

You’re the reason she won’t come home, a little voice whispers in my head. I stop, then, because my chest is tightening and I can’t really breathe. I say something incoherent. The fields around me are empty- it’s just me and this doe. 

I drop her into the mud and loosen my shirt, gasping for air. I want cold, I want crisp mountain air; not this thick, humid, barely-air that clogs my throat and makes my lungs heavy. 

I dig my fingers into the mud and grass, as I would have done in the snow, back home. Home. What a weird thought. I catch the dead doe’s eye again, and that’s when the tears come, thick and hot and nasty, blurring my vision. So stupid, I think, as I force myself to stare at her. She- no, it- is just an animal. She doesn’t have a home, not the way I did. Do. 

I think of crying out for help, but that’s pathetic, and I’m a lot of things, but pathetic ain’t one of them. 

I think I stay there, on my knees, fingers deep in the mud, for a long time- when my vision clears again and I’ve stopped gasping for air, the sky is clear, clear blue, no traces of sunrise left. If I focus hard enough on it, I can almost pretend I’m back in the mountains. 

I get up, teeth digging into my tongue to prevent any new feelings from resurfacing. I’m not in the goddamn mountains. All that’s left for me there is two frozen bodies deep beneath the snow, and a hut that’s probably been raided or taken over by some other gang. 

I pick the doe up, this time careful to avoid looking at her face. Its face. It’s an animal, not my goddamn sister. 

I make it back to my horse without another incident; strap the doe across his back and climb onto his saddle. His name is Coal, ‘cause of the colour o’ him- black and charcoal grey, a streak of white down his face. 

“Hey, boy,” I murmur to him as I flick the reigns. My voice is shaky, hoarse; it’s obvious that I’ve been crying. 

Coal begins to trot back to camp. I think of changing direction, of going to Rhodes, clear my thoughts. But I gotta bring this back to Pearson, or he’ll skin me. 

The camp is still there when I return, which is a relief. I don’t think I’ll forget the moment when I came back after a hunt and found everyone gone, everything burned to the ground. 

I shiver at the memory and get off Coal. “I’ll come ‘nd fix your saddle later,” I say to him, scratching his neck. He grunts, in a tone I hope is affectionate. I remove the doe, put her back over my shoulder. Make it to Pearson’s stand, where he’s angrily chopping vegetables. 

“Hey,” I say, dropping the doe in front of him. I angle her head- her eyes- away from me. “Got some meat.” 

“I can see that,” is Pearson’s kind answer. 

I ignore him and walk away again, into the derelict house we’ve been callin’ home for the last few weeks. My room is on the top floor; I wish I shared it with someone, but I got lucky (Dutch’s words) and got my own, private room. 

I tug off my bloodstained shirt and drop it on the floor. There’s nothin’ to be done about my trousers- they’re the only pair I’ve got (the others have just been washed, and hang soaking wet outside) and I don’t plan on walking around bare-legged. 

I change quickly. Sit down on the bed, stare at the wall. 

I don’t know how long I stay like that; starin’ at the peeling wallpaper, trying to pretend it’s the same white as the snow I used to see out my window. Obviously, the pretendin’ don’t work, because it’s not the snow, it’s a crumbling fuckin’ wall in a crumbling fuckin’ house. I stand, take a deep breath in (of hot, hot, humid, thick air), push it out. It ain’t cleansing- I don’t feel better once I’ve tasted the surrounding bogs- but it’s enough to calm my heartbeat, and make me feel somewhat human again. 

For the rest of the day, I help around camp, doing stupid, mind-numbing tasks. I try not to think of the mountains, and how much better than this godforsaken swamp they were. People talk to me, and I answer, polite and all. I eat Pearson’s stew, listen to another grandiose speech about Dutch’s plan (or, as far as I’m concerned, concepts of a plan). I finally find a moment of quiet sitting on a log, staring out at the swamp. Not the prettiest sight; all brown and green, with hints of yellow dust. 

I’m alone for only a few minutes before I hear footsteps. I turn, and find Arthur approaching, taking his cigarette packet from his satchel. I shift on the log I’m sitting on, making the split second decision that his company is something I want right now. 

He sits next to me, silently. Offers me a cigarette (I decline with a shake of my head and a wave of my hand) then lights his own with a match. He stays quiet for a little while, blowing smoke from his mouth, tinting the world blue and grey. 

It’s strange, sitting next to him. He don’t mind being quiet; seems to like my company well enough, ‘cause he keeps coming back here to smoke. 

He’s the one who found me, all that time ago, on a solo hunt in the Grizzlies. It was at the edge of the mountains, where it starts to get warmer; where the sun melts away most of the snow. Was from Blackwater, he said- I asked if I could go back with him. Promised I’d leave ‘em all alone when I got there, I just needed a job, as far from my daddy’s corpse as I could get. He’d said yes, maybe reluctantly. 

Turns out, I’d found somethin' better than a job. Not quite a family, but a gang, people to rely on, people to distract me from the emptiness created by my father’s death. I suppose it’s these people keeping me here, in this swampy nowhere, sweating my socks off. Here, I’ve got people- back in the mountains, I’ve got two dead bodies and an empty house. 

My chest tightens again, and wordlessly, I take the cigarette from Arthur’s hand, take a long drag. I hand it back, still silent, and dig my fingernails into my knuckles. 

“You miss home?” Arthur asks me, his words marked by the smoke curling from his mouth. I take the cigarette from his fingers again, press it between my teeth, inhale ‘till I can blame the burning in my eyes on the smoking rather than whatever has grabbed hold of me; whatever old, buried feeling I’d thought long gone had chosen to make an appearance. Guess it must be more obvious than I thought, that I’m feelin’ odd, ‘cause he clearly smelled it on me. 

“I don’t know, I guess,” I say, softly, fiddling with the dirty fabric of my trousers as I hand the cigarette back; as if I don’t know the answer, as if I haven’t spent half my goddamn life thinking about this. I exhale, blowing out smoke from my nose.  “Never really thought about it.” The lie burns in my throat, so thick I can hardly breathe. 

It’s not the stability that I miss. The weather in the Grizzlies was nothin’ permanent, not in any sense- one minute it’s a blizzard, the next you’re standing staring at the bright blue sky, knee deep in snow. I guess it’s the wolves howling, it’s the comfort of a fire as wind rattles against the window panes; it’s even the way the stars look after three days holed up inside. There’s no one thing I miss or don’t miss- I just know I miss it, so much that my chest tightens at the thought. 

When my daddy got shot, three- no, four- years ago, I thought the one answer was to leave that place behind; pack up my clothes and go out into the Wild Wild West, make my own future away from the smell of his freshly dug grave, right next to my mama’s frozen bones. And when I came across Arthur, and later his gang of gung-ho outlaws, who seemed ready to take on the world, I thought that was it- my life was set. 

But I don’t like the constant moving like I used to. It don’t feel like adventure anymore; it feels like escaping, like we’re always running from something. 

“I don’t…” I hesitate, reach up to dig my nails into the dip of my collarbone, try to dig the feeling out, hold it up to the light to examine it. “I guess it’s different.” A veiled confession. Away from the Grizzlies (away from home) it’s hot, stiflingly so; I can’t climb onto my horse without breaking a sweat. It’s already too warm by the time the sun rises- clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably, flies buzzing above, drowning in the smell of swampy nothingness as soon as your eyes open. I don’t hate it- it has become familiar, but familiar in the way the weight of a revolver at my hip has become familiar; the way the constant paranoia that clogs my throat has become familiar. 

“Different how?” 

Another pause, as I scuff the yellow dust ground with the toe of my boot. Different in a whole lotta ways, I want to tell him; even the colour of the sky isn’t quite the same back home. 

Home. I think of the snow as I stare at the yellowed leather of my shoes. Where there’s snow and wolves and no people to shoot at you unless you really look for it. 

“I don’t know,” I say, even though my whole body knows; it courses through me, the knowledge that a few days ride away is the mountains, and the snow. “It just is.”

The answer dissatisfies him, I think. “C’mon,” he says in that gruff voice of his. “You gotta be able to find one difference between here and the goddamn Grizzlies.” 

“’S warmer,” I say, the words followed by a short, slightly forced laugh. “Don’t snow as much.” 

He snorts, shaking his head. “Alright,” he responds, maybe a little condescendingly. “Think o’ anything else?” 

“You got less wolves down here,” I add, after a few moments. I don’t say that I miss the sound of them howling; that when I close my eyes, I try to picture it, try to pretend I’m back there instead of here. 

“Alright.” He says it kinder this time, like we’re getting somewhere. 

“The sky looks different.” I dig my fingers in deeper. He offers me the cigarette; I take it, repurpose the burning in my throat. The smoke flickers around me as I exhale. “It’s- clearer, up there. More blue.” Here, the sky is tinted almost yellow. It ain’t ugly, but it ain’t home. 

He doesn’t answer, now, staring out at the swamps. I don’t know how he feels about this place- about Rhodes, and the foreignness of Saint Denis, with its factories and smoke and cobbled roads. I wonder if he misses home- if he ever had one to begin with. “I guess I do miss it,” I say, to fill the silence more than anything. “But… I don’t know, I don’t think I wanna go back.” Alone is the word I don’t add. I think- maybe- if I had the gang, my new family, I’d go back to the Grizzlies. After we escaped Blackwater, and hid out in that abandoned town up in the mountains; that was the happiest I’d been for a long time. 

But alone isn’t something I want to be. Not the way I was alone, the few weeks after my father passed- just me and the freshly dug grave, me and the wolves, me and the gun that killed him, sittin’ on the table, an unwanted temptation. 

“I don’t wanna be alone again.” It comes out soft, hoarse, pathetic, the words grating in my throat, like sandpaper on my tongue. 

It’s true. Yes, home is in the mountains; I know that now, when my chest clenches at the simple thought of the snow. But home is also with these people- with Arthur, and Mary-Beth, and Pearson, and the rest of them. Hell, even Kieran, the O’Driscoll boy, has become home, in a way. Home is not just the place where I grew up (the place where my daddy now lies); home is also the people that have become my family; who have embraced me so kindly and warmly. I know deep in my stomach that if I were to leave now, take a horse back to the hut, I’d end up like my daddy, a bullet in my head and a gun in my hand. 

He did it ‘cause he was lonely. So lonely that even I wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling the trigger. Lived in the mountains his whole life, but he had my mama then, and his parents. I guess fifty years of snow and not much else can drive you insane. 

My hand goes to my temple; I dig my fingers into the skin, right where I found the bullet in his head. 

“Y’won’t be,” he responds gruffly. He’s finished his cigarette, and yet he’s not made any attempt to get up, leave me with my thoughts. I snort, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. 

“Don’t know that,” I say. “With the Pinkertons on our asses, ‘nd all.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, but it comes out quiet, rough. 

“Yeah, but they’ve always been on our asses.” He puts a hand on my leg; it engulfs my entire knee. “Tell you what.” He hesitates, clearin’ his throat a little. Squeezes my knee. “I’ll take you huntin’, once a week- or twice, or less, if you want.” 

“I go huntin’ anyway,” I answer. “Not in the mountains, y’don’t.” My chest both tightens and loosens at the same time. I swallow; my heart is thumping in my chest. I put my hand to my collarbone again, digging my nails in. “C’mon, it’ll do you good. Cold air and all that.” 

I know there’s a deeper meaning to that. Cold air- he’s giving me the chance to go home, and not by myself. Even if it’s not for long, it’s enough- to feel the snow again, to hear the wolves. Maybe once I’ll camp overnight, ride back to camp in the morning. The idea fills me with hope- a feeling we’re all starved of, these days. 

“Really?” Is all I manage to croak out. 

“What, you don’t wanna?”

I laugh, and it’s genuine this time. “No, I- I wanna.”

“Alright then.” He gives my knee a last squeeze, then stands. I stand with him, smooth my shirt with the flat of my hand. “Tomorrow then?” Tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. I’d sing, if my throat weren’t so damn tight. My eyes sting, and I wipe at my nose with my hand. 

“Thank you,” I say, quietly. He don’t respond, but he nods, and I think maybe he smiles a little. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll get to take a piece of my new home to the place I grew up- someone I love, to the place that holds my heart. 

I watch him walk away; and suddenly, the humidity don’t feel so bad anymore. 

[fluff-n-cookies]

Movie night --- class 1A --- individuals

can be read as platonic, written with fem identifying reader in mind but gender is not explicitly stated.

TW: fluff, light yandere tandancies, light swearing, other than that none that I can think of, please comment if you think any warnings should be added.

note: after the recent events in the anime, I really just need something fluffy rn.

the soft pitter patter of rain drumming against the windows of the dorm room. the lights were dimmed with the only thing illumanating the space being the raging action scene on the TV, the speakers boomed with every explosion, the vivid screeches of the actors being the main focus. and while your eyes may be trained on the screen. someone else only left their heart swell with adoration everytime you softly gasped at the screen, huddled in the safety of their blankets, in their room, with only them to protect you.

god, you're just so precious.

Yuga Ayoyama (before betrayal)

oh, he acts so scared when the movie starts, it really was your idea. after exam season it would have been nice to wind down and just breathe.

but this was most definitely not what he had in mind! he was thinking of going to a petting zoo, or getting manicures and pedicures and a spa day.

not watching an action movie with all that blood and gore! to be fair, he isn't even watching the movie, he's just been spending all his time fixated on you. but oh well.

you're just so cute to him though, whenever the character you're rooting for does something right, you squeal and kick your feet while stuffing your face with gormet popcorn he had his parents buy.

maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

Mina Ashido

this is really just a weekly occurrence for you both, where you'll both bring everything for a sleepover, the fuzziest blankets, board games, snacks, ridiculous self-care products just for the heck of it with he main event being the movie you both watch.

normally it's a silly rom-com, or even a shitty reality show but this time you decided on an action movie. so what is she to do? you're her ride or die, the thing 1 to her thing 2.

she's grumbling the whole night, but it's all worth it to see that picture perfect smile on your picture perfect face as you tell her to look at the screen for your favorite part while waiting for your freshly painted nails to dry.

she even starts really getting into it, maybe your passion is starting to infect her!

either way, it's just nice to be with you.

Tsuyu Asui

she LOVES movie nights

while she may not show it much, she's a sucker for all things acting, she's the type of gal to watching actor interviews Religiously, type of gal to be like "oh! that's (insert most random actor ever)", type to visibly scream when you say her favorite movies are overrated.

she has it all, the blankets, the popcorn, the sound system. and she keeps looking at you to make sure that you're having fun

god forbid you say you "liked" that movie. that it was "fine" NO you need to tell her your favorite parts, what you hated, what you loved, when you felt like crying, your favorite character. EVERYTHING.

lil' froggy hehe

Tenya Iida

this man would never have you watch a movie on that shitty laptop of yours or the streaming channels on the TV who either drain you of your money or bombard you with ads.

no, cuz' when a movie you really wanna watch comes out you best believe it is his job as your bestfriend/boyfriend to book you the best seats in the whole movie theater, just for the two of you.

He gets so mad whenever you take your phone out during the movie, even if you weren't going to do anything with it, he'll slap it (gently) out of your hands with a soft grumble.

buys you two things of popcorn, one for him and one for you. and this man eats his popcorn like a fucking robot, every 3.2 seconds he eats one and he will beg with the biggest puppy dog eyes for you to share your bucket with him.

best boy. be sure to give him a hug as thank you and watch as he bursts into nervous giggles.

Ochacho Uraraka

much like Tsu, Ochacho LOVES movies.

more so, the action, horror, and thriller. I'm sorry if you aren't a fan of any of them.

covers you both in blankets, in the coziest pajamas fresh from the laundry, as she flicks through a movie pirating site because she can't be bothered to pay for a streaming service!

oh, she thinks you're just so cute whenever you sink back into the cushions of her bed covering your eyes, anticipating a jump scare. she can't help but giggle every time you scream in fear. clutching onto the fabric of the blanket. she then apologizes profusely for giving you nightmares for a week.

or maybe you're a horror geek just like her. fawning for the special effects with her as you discuss the best and worst movies you've seen. she could probably listen to you babble on and on about whatever is on your mind and she'll listen happily.

Mashirao Ojiro

Absolute sweetheart about it, he keeps telling you that it's his job as your host to take care of you. fluffs up all the pillows, freshly heated blankets, the whole package.

he sometimes lets you use his tail an over sized pillows but be warned he will thrash it if a jump scare spooks him a little too much.

apologizes for it by sharing more snacks with you.

in action movies, he just loves criticizing all the horribly done martial arts. he'll whisper it under his breath with a grumble as he angrily takes a bite out of a chocolate bar.

over all, very polite, very kind, a gentleman, 11/10, best boy.

Denki Kaminari

gets super freaked out whenever something bad happens. it could be as simple as tripping someone in the movie and he'll gasp so and make this stupid little O face just to make you laugh.

he can't even focus on the movie half the time and instead jsut keeps saying "I'm bored" "I'm bored" "I'm hungry" "I'm sleepy" "WAAAAH" "I'm bored"

he will shut up if you tell him to. but honestly it's just better to put the movie on as background noise as you both talk about the latest gossip in class and eat wayyy too many expired popsicles from the back of his mom's freezer.

he will GAFAW at any comedy you put on until the whole building is awake because he can't shut up!

he'll skip any and all spicy scenes in a movie, all while blushing a bright red. he just doesn't want for your o think he's a creep... he really like you, y'know?

Bonus! (romantic)

he sneakily holds your hand whenever the main characters have a happy ending, and give you a little smile before gently kissing your chuckles. "I hope that's us one day."

Eijiro Kirishima

he does this thing where he gets super invested into the movie and literally needs to be torn away from the screen so he can focus on something else.

he'll also accidentally use his quirk whenever something surprises him and it's actually so stupid. He's the type of guy to jump back in surprise when Hans from Frozen turns out to be the villain and gasp.

movie nights are also on the nights he needs to dye his roots again or give himself another haircut, and who's a better person to help him with that than you!

cries whenever a main character succeeds. *sob* "I-" *sob* "that's so manly!" *sob, sob*

he's just happy to be with you.

he definitely has a whole list of movies he wants to watch with you cuz' he thinks you'll like them.

Koji Koda

you're the only one who he lets come into his room on a regular basis, and he's such a chatterbox whenever he's around you. comments on every single little detail in the movie just to have an excuse to talk to you.

he keeps showing you his bunny whenever the movie gets a little boring.

unintentional blanket hogger, he means well I swear, but he'll bundle himself up like a little burrito so you're gonna have to remind him to share. which he more than happily does.

will never, EVER condone animal cruelty. god forbid that there wasn't a "no animals where harmed in the making of this film" because he will be throwing hands

he tends to take up most of the bed so he'll set up a little space on the floor like a little pillow fortress so have fun with that!

Rikido Sato

Movies AND CUPCAKES?????

he bakes these little themed cupcakes based on the movie you are watching and hey are so GOOD! he even finds a way to incorporate all your favorite flavors in there.

hates popcorn. I'm sorry but he just doesn't like the saltiness in the overly buttered popcorn. popcorn with caramel on the other hand is a very different sorry.

but either way he'll happily make it for you, your salty-ass popcorn. oh the things he's willing to do for his loved ones.

sometime he eats too much sugar and he has to punch something, which is perfect for the peeps out there who randomly have an urge to redecorate and rearrange their whole room in the middle of the the night.

Mezo Shouji

absolute sweetheart about it

has never seen movies with anyone else considering his past and people thinking he's a freak.

a little shy to be taking off his mask Infront of you, doesn't eat popcorn the whole time because of it

ends up using his huge arms as a blanket.

is pretty silent on the outside but is internally squealing like a little girl

Kyoka Jrio

not that much of a movie gal, she'd rather you two go to a concert or something.

it takes a lot of convincing but she will eventually cave in

she's very nit picky about your sound system, she spends a whole hour hooking up her speakers for the best sound quality while you wait on the couch for her to finish

keeps criticizing the movie's plot, she really like to try and predict what's going to happen next

ends up crying by the end of the movie, she ended up getting a little too attached to the side character who was destined to die from the very beginning.

Hanta Sero

omg, he was totally dared by Kaminari to take you out to the movies and not wanting to be a puss he agreed.

he tries acting as smoothly as he humanely can be, spent 4 days trying to plan out his outfit alone.

buys you nice tickets, pays for the popcorn, and walks you everywhere especially since it's dark out

he eventually confesses that he's actually really nervous after he tripped over his own feet for the 20th time that night.

you two end up at a mcdonalds by the end of the night, crumbs on your face and all over the car.

Fumikage Tokoyami

he's such a dick the entire night. Like Jirou, he doesn't like movies all that much, you're going to have to convince him.

purposely chooses a horror movie. (by chooses I mean he says no to all movies but horror.)

really likes to point out all the plot inconsistencies and the horrible script. keeps going on his phone to go through all the Wikipedia articles about the actors.

Dark shadow hogs all the popcorn.

despite how he acts re really does like movie nights with you. not because of the movie but because of how you always invite him because you want to spend time with him. it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, it thaws away at his heart if you will.

Shoto Todoroki

the only movies he's EVER seen in his whole life are the ones that they put on for the last day of school, and half the time it's a really low quality Disney movie or documentary that's like 43 years old.

never really thought much of movies until you mention liking a certain movie. oh, look, it's a magical (endeavor's) credit card just lying on the floor! how convenient.

this boy bought a new subscription, got new pillows and blankets, went to the movie theater, bought their popcorn, DIDN'T WATCH A MOVIE, and came home on the subways with a bucket of popcorn on his lap.

he's excited as you may be able to tell.

when it comes to actually watching the movie...he's not watching it. he spends the whole movie only looking at YOU. he's looking for a sliver of a smile, a joy in your eyes, anything, just anything as proof of your happiness. he needs that validation.

Toru Hagakure

insists heavily on regular spa+movie nights.

just you and her, sheltered away from the world.

hates horror, utterly despises it, she will shriek and scream like a banshee.

spends more time fussing over skincare rather than the movie itself. shes like it as background noise.

she will stuff her face with popcorn like there's absolutely no tomorrow.

Katsuki Bakugou

absolute menace, complains the whole time. popcorn? burnt. movie? too cheesy. pillows and blankets? too childish.

he actually really like it though, he sulks when you suggest canceling your regular movie nights in favor of going on a date with a new guy.

like Todoroki, he doesn't do movie nights because of the movies, no, he goes for you. he will purposely eat the burnt popcorn so you don't have to. murmurs "jump scare incoming" during horrors movies, and by the end of it, he'll escort you to your bedroom so you don't freak about what goes bump in the night.

sure he spends most of your movie nights laughing at you, and others in the hospital after a villain attack, but it's the best you probably get with Bakugou.

Izuku Midoriya

insists that movie night be held in your room because he is 100% sure that his All Might collection will scare you off.

unlike many others in this class, he does in fact watch the movie. gets so pulled in that he often forgets that you're there.

he fiddles around with his notebook the entire time too, jotting down notes about the characters, powers, personalities, ships....

buys your favorite popcorn for you knowing full damn well he won't be able to eat any of it because of the diet that All Might has him on.

falls asleep during the movie, training's too hard, the food's kinda shitty, Bakugou's a bitch, and your blankets are just sooo soft. left him sleep on your couch for a while, yeah?

I do not write for Mineta.

Momo Yayorozu

she's never had a movie night at home before. usually, for movie nights, her parents would rent out a theater to view the newest movie, or they would go to see a Dance or play or something of the sort.

being a 7 year old girl during most of these "Movie nights" she got bored quickly and decided she hated movie nights from an early age.

when you ask if you two can have a movie night together, she only expects that, a grand performance before her very eyes, one she's fall asleep to half way through.

oh how wrong she was.

she watches that screen like a damn, what of the popcorn? she's forgotten about it, instead she gawks at the cheesiness of the romcom you out on. what do you mean you don't love him, Katharine? what do you mean? how dare you say that you'd rather date your ex rather than him. do you not see the way he stares at you with love?

she declares that movie her new favorite movie and even goes as far as to start planning your next movie night a mere 2 minutes after the first one ended.

---

[proship-mafuyu]

꒰ ⛧ ꒱ — mafuyu’s f/o ask game !!

⛧ — these can be answered either as s/i talking about f/o or vice versa, even though they’re written as f/o-centric! when asking them you can just clarify whose POV you want in your ask to the person :3c

anyone can participate, but this was made by a proselfshipper, so follow your own dni !!

꒰ ⛧ ꒱ — section one ;; stars 💫

🎸 — does f/o play any instrument/s? how long have they been playing, and how good are they?

🎹 — when f/o gets sick or tired, are they obvious about it? how easily can s/i tell?

🥁 — does f/o have a specific food everyone associates them with? if not, what’s their favorite food?

🍜 — for stoic f/os, what’s their soft spot? how did s/i discover it? is the soft spot s/i themself?

꒰ ⛧ ꒱ — section two ;; clovers ☘️

🍀 — does f/o have an idol they look up to? if so, why?

🐧 — is f/o famous in canon? if so, when did they become famous, and what for? do they like being well-known? if they aren’t, would they desire fame?

🍑 — would f/o get into a fight to defend s/i? how much would they risk for it, and is there anything that especially sets them off?

💧 — what’s the silliest mistake f/o makes? how often do they make it — is it practically daily, or has it only happened once or twice?

꒰ ⛧ ꒱ — section three ;; song 🎤

🐹 — is f/o commonly associated with an animal by others? if not, what animal does s/i see in them?

🎧 — how obvious was f/o during the crushing/pining stage? did s/i catch on quick, or was it a mystery until the confession?

🥞 — if f/o has any siblings, how similar are they? does f/o talk about their sibling/s fondly, with disdain, or in some other way?

☕️ — has f/o changed a lot since meeting s/i? who were they like before, compared to how they are now?

꒰ ⛧ ꒱ — section four ;; wonderland ✨

⭐️ — how confident is f/o? are they ever considered arrogant by those who know them, or are they a bit more humble?

🍬 — does f/o look their age, or do they look younger/older? do they ever get mistaken for being a child/an older relative of s/i’s?

🎮 — does f/o like video games? which kinds, and how into video games are they?

🎈 — does f/o have any kind of notoriety? if so, what for? how long have they had it?

꒰ ⛧ ꒱ — section five ;; twilight 🌙

🎼 — what’s f/o’s favorite kind of music? do they prefer composing music or listening to it?

❄️ — does f/o act differently around different people? if so, how obvious is it when f/o uses a different persona?

🎨 — is f/o a morning person or a night owl? when do they usually go to work/class, if they do either? what’s their ideal bedtime?

🎀 — can f/o handle hot food? whether or not they can stand them, do they enjoy spicy foods?

[demigodseameg16]

..So not only are they bashing one of the few characters of color and saying a lot about themselves by how people are defending one of the few disabled characters, they also decided that being like Alya, when written by the RIGHT PEOPLE, a girl who is journalistic, loyal to her family and friends, clever, knows what is being put down and how to spin it to her advantage and to get to the actual truth, not just the pretty picture, is a bad thing.

*cracks knuckles*

Let's begin shall we?

Number one - The defense of Alya: Aren't we tired of this same old routine? I may not agree with some of Alya's actions (less on Alya's side, more on why they occured) but reading through those Instagram comments it seems like the only negative thing that's uniting them against Alya is because she's a dark skinned French-Martinique girl who made one mistake in believing Lila. To which I say, SHE IS A CHILD. She is obviously going to make mistakes on the path of her career, and in the end, she still came to Marinette's defense! She knew Marinette would never cheat and argued against her expulsion along with Adrien! She tried getting Marinette outside when she was depressed because she was picking up how her best friend was feeling long before her actual friend could put those feelings into words! She got akumatized for Marinette because she just wanted to understand her feelings and she was scared she was failing her first friend! Or did we forget that Alya is the new kid too, who probably moved from French-Martinique to a whole continent, in a place that speaks a different form of French, to which she may be criticized for her body shape and skin color because of beauty standards laid deep in society! And also because unlike other girls her age she's already so career driven and proud of being a nerd/geek! Alya is a middle child who shoulders a ton of responsibility, she takes care of her little sisters all while running her blog, which is the most used blog in Paris, while ALSO making sure her older sibling isn't pushing herself too hard. Her mom is a full time chef at one of the fanciest hotels in Paris, so that means she's going to be working overtime, and her dad is in charge of a whole zoo, so he's working weird hours too. And we are still bashing her because of an animation error? For her asking her friend for evidence of Lila's lies, a valid question for a reporter because she just can't take the words of a best friend because that would be bias? Just because Marinette was right that one time, doesn't mean she'll be right ALL the time. So if acting like Alya is a bad thing, I'll gladly be putting on my glasses more often and start wearing a fox miraculous.

Number two - The defense of Sublime: Ladies and gentlemen, enbies of the jury, what the actual fuck. Unless Lila, a girl from a Mediterranean region in Europe, who is a naturally tan skinned girl, decided to fully commit to the "disabled" bit and chop her legs off while bleaching her skin, all while switching her DNA from most likely Southern Italy to Belgium, a French speaking country with Germanic roots, I ask of you, what the actual fuck. That's too far, even for Astruc. We know Lila is capable of what Miraculous calls "masterful disguises", and apparently in the London special her hair was blonde and her eyes were violet, but she still had her natural skin and oh I don't know, HER LEGS? WE SAW HER LEGS, YES? We may not know what Lila's "true appearance" is, but I'm going to assume it's a girl with a healthy tan, and two working legs. Sublime is pale, and doesn't have those last two. That doesn't make her Lila, BUT THAT DOESN'T MAKE HER A VILLAIN. And also, it rules her out of being Lila's accomplice, because she's been training for the Paralympics her whole life. Do you know how much training that requires? And she's doing TRACK for goodness sake. I once tried cross country only for the interest of throwing the javelin (I never got to throw the javelin). They had to sign me up for track first. My social schedule? Gone with the wind. My art time? Vanished like my dad. My rehearsal time? On life support. (Ironically, I was really good at all the stretches, and pretty fast for my condition of having, ya know, leg problems. I wouldn't be able to run with the team, but I did practices with them and I came to every meet and cheered them on and helped them stretch and got them water (and for that, I was not bullied because Track had my back. You never mess with the person who can perfectly get out a cramp in your leg, while also gives you water at the perfect temperature.)) Realistically girlie has no free time outside of that besides school, and people think she can be an ally to a supervillain SHE JUST MET? Because let me remind everyone, Sublime just moved to Paris, from Belgium. All while Hawkmoth was going down, she was in Belgium. She doesn't even know who these heroes ARE, let alone the villains.

Look, you are allowed to like who you like, and you are allowed to dislike who you dislike. But I draw the line at liking a character who basically supports a system that allows ableism, racism, harassment to run free, all in the name of her "vision". Because if Marinette is happy, then that's all that matters, right? It doesn't matter that there can be real life consequences to these type of things, for kids watching this show and seeing bad behavior being rewarded and that influencing their developmental skills, and for all those kids of color and disabled kids or combination of the both who see that they are the bad guys simply by existing in your standards, letting their feelings not be validated or be acknowledged all for some other person's happiness to be achieved. A person who is supposed to be a hero, an "inspiration for little girls everywhere". Except dark skinned girls. Oh, and disabled girls. And girls questioning their identity, whether it be heritage, gender or sexuality (because it's not just little kids who watch this show, tweens and teens watch it too). And girls that might have a bit more money than other people in your class, or girls who don't have as much money as others in your class. And for girls who aren't the standard beauty. And for boys who want a girl role model too? Sorry, you aren't important unless you are the sacrifice or love interest, preferably both. Yes, an inspiration to children everywhere indeed.

Bro as someone who uses a walking aid (a cane) and is disabled seeing the new trailer for Miraculous Ladybug makes me absolutely furious. I have never felt so much hatred for a fictional character before and yet here we are. I didn't like Marinette before but like, this just. This hits way too close to home and I know Astruc is going to frame it in a way that makes Marinette the good guy. But NOTHING excuses touching a disability aid without permission, especially fooling around with it and sabotaging it. And the fact that a younger generation is going to see this, I absolutely can't. I feel so bad for disabled children who will see this scene on TV and have their feelings be in the wrong, shown that they are the bad guys for getting upset, or heavens forbid being disabled. Screw you Astruc.