#i still believe that this is a good way to create a stronger bond between them. if capcom's not lazy.

[noctuadora]

"I can't."

a simple sentence that frustrated me to hell on my first watch. "what, that's it? why aren't you saying anything else to her? couldn't you explain?"

see, a lot (even me, initially) have interpreted his words as simply just:

"I can't give the chip because I can't let you expose the truth to the public." (they stop there.)

and this might've been the moment people accused him of becoming a corrupt government lapdog - whatever you name it. a year later however, it became clear to me (after reading tons of character studies about Leon lmao) that these words were meant to be interpreted as:

"I can't give the chip because I can't let you get hunted down by the government. I almost lost you (in the acid), so I can't let you do this. I don't want you to die."

he mentioned it before to Shen Mei, who shared the same sentiments as Claire: "if I do that [give you the chip], you'll have every agent in the US hunting you." I couldn't help but wonder: if Leon -does- give the chip to Claire, is there a possibility that he'll also be assigned by the gov't to hunt her down too?

in the case of Claire: I've seen people say she was being immature, but think about it: she had seen the horrors of Raccoon City and witnessed what Sherry had been through. because of that, she dedicated her life to helping victims of bioterrorism. she has always been swift to justice, albeit reckless and driven by emotion. to me, it might've seemed like she did have an idea of what consequences there would be in store for her; but if it meant exposing the truth to the public and stopping another RC incident, she would put her life at risk.

that's just the way Claire is. and Leon understands. he knows. but his desire to protect her is stronger than I personally expected. and I don't even mean this from a shipping standpoint; this is also just the way Leon is when it comes to life itself.

it's impossible to save everyone. he knows that better than anyone else. yet he persists. time and again, he gave up his security, his safety, to save someone else. this time, it's no different.

he knows she's disappointed, and of course he's not fine with it (who would?). but it's okay for her to walk away from him, as long as she's alive and safe. as long as he can protect her, that's all that matters.

[clonerightsagenda]

Kat's "I could fix her" Arcane season 2 post Part 1:

Yeah we're skipping straight past the recap/reflections on what this show actually was into my 'just let me into the writers room' post because I'm currently tormented by, ironically, what could have been

What's funny is the characters didn't even end up doomed by the narrative because of their League of Legends fates!! They killed a whole bunch of champions! They just Did All That anyway.

As I was saying in previous posts, the season was overstuffed. I genuinely liked some of the music video portions lol, but there was just so much going on.

I still would put Mel in a Magic Coma for the entire season and spin out her Black Rose plot for a third season or new spinoff (it seems like there will be one anyway). Her storyline as is felt like an afterthought and wasn't fully explained. Am I supposed to know the Black Rose lady? I don't. Being crammed in does her a disservice; I'd rather give her room to breathe. This would create a stronger absent mother/absent daughter bond between Ambessa and Caitlyn, and Caitlyn could see Ambessa claiming to do things for her daughter's sake even though it's obviously stuff Mel would never approve of, and that could force Caitlyn to reflect on how her mother wouldn't approve of the actions she's taking allegedly for her sake. That could sell Caitlyn's immediately re-siding with Vi better.

This may be a very hot take, but I didn't really like the werewolf Vander plotline. My understanding is he's a LoL champion, but he felt particularly cartoonish even in an increasingly cartoonish season, and just kept retreading the same ground. Vander's dead. :( He's alive! :) He's dead again. :( Obviously the cycles are part of the point, and he represents how Vander's death is this monstrous always dying never at rest force between the sisters tying them together and strangling them at the same time, but I'd cut it. Have Vi seek Jinx out after the prison break because she can't believe her sister did that, have Jinx admit she only did it to save one girl, and they reflect on how Vander also did stuff just for kids versus ideals. Make Vi reflect on how her little jaunt with Jayce killed a kid, and here Jinx is saving one, and people are complicated. Still not clear on how Jinx has no negative effects from Shimmer, so give her a few and that can be their new reason for going to Viktor's commune. Ambessa can hear about his new weird magitech without needing a werewolf to pique her interest.

Obviously this raises of the question of what Vi and Jinx are doing in the finale, and while I don't think every character needs a big damn fight scene, they can back up Caitlyn versus Ambessa since Mel won't be there, which also forces them to deal with the Vi-Caitlyn-Jinx tension. IDK if there's a way to have Jinx ambiguously blow herself up in that scenario but here's a thought, maybe the most prominently disabled characters don't all need to die and/or commit suicide? More on that later. Ambessa is subdued, not dead, though, so she and Mel can talk later.

Finally (for this post) I already expressed my frustration that the key class conflict so present in the first season and first half of the second gets mostly shoved under the rug because there's a new enemy to fight. Yes, that's often used as a distraction irl, but that's not a *good* thing. Sevika's sitting at the councilor's table at the end of the show. Who negotiated that? Caitlyn? If we absolutely must go the direction of a big damn final battle, I want to see that conversation and all of the pain and distrust that must've come up during it.

That's the kid gloves version. If I was being aggressive - and I would be - I'd have the fighting totally destroy Piltover with arcane corruption, and now everyone from Piltover has to live in the Undercity/Zaun as refugees. Forget Sevika sitting down at the Piltover table as the new councilors glare at her. Now the Piltover councilors are having to sit awkwardly down at a table with Sevika and Ekko's number 2. (Or Ekko. What is he doing besides sitting sadly on that roof. Is he involved in governance. Is his tree ok.) Piltover suffocated Zaun for years with their industrial runoff. Now they're choking to death on their own magical industrial waste, and they're going to have to learn to live like everybody else.

I am still parsing the whole Viktor, Jayce, and disability thing since as you know that's one of the elements that fascinates me most about this show (the new improved crunchy ableism even as they genuinely try to explore something interesting) so I will be typing a separate post about that, probably thinking through it as I write. Stay tuned.

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling - Chapter 14

Synopsis:

The morning after Hank’s confessions, Y/N senses a shift in their relationship, both strengthened and delicately altered by what he’s shared. They indulge in a day cocooned from the world, wrapped in quiet intimacy. As they rediscover each other’s touch, the bond between them feels stronger than ever, leaving Y/N basking in a newfound closeness she hadn’t anticipated.

Word count: 8,617

Masterlist

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting gentle, fragmented patterns on the walls. I lay there, tangled in sheets and silence, my mind still retracing the lines of Hank’s confessions from last night. Every word, every hesitant glance, each rough-edged moment had settled into me like pebbles dropped into a pond, creating ripples I couldn’t still. Each memory hovered just beneath the surface, stirring emotions I was only beginning to name.

It wasn’t like Hank to share things so openly—not like this. He’d built his own fortress over the years, thick walls crafted from unspoken hurts and old wounds, carefully fortified and guarded. But last night, he’d let me glimpse beyond them, allowing me to see the scarred pieces he usually kept locked away. Piece by piece, he’d handed me parts of himself that felt weathered and raw. I wanted to believe that sharing his past had lifted a weight from him, that he felt lighter now, freed somehow. But the way he’d held me after—the tightness, the quiet—made me wonder if he felt exposed rather than unburdened, as though he’d given away something he didn’t know if he could ever take back.

His secrets now lived in the space between us, shifting the fragile foundation we’d built into something both stronger and shakier all at once. I could feel the weight of them pressing into the silence, settling in the creases of the sheets, sinking into my own heart. It felt as if we’d crossed some invisible line, leaving the easy familiarity of before behind us. And yet, the warmth of his body next to mine, his steady breathing, the feel of his hand still wrapped around mine—it all grounded me, a quiet reminder that whatever this was, we were in it together.

Eventually, he stirred, blinking slowly as he adjusted to the morning light. For a moment, he looked at me, his gaze still carrying the shadows of last night, the memories still close enough to feel in the early morning quiet. There was a vulnerability there, a quiet hesitance that made me realise he was still trying to piece everything together, still finding his way back from the place he’d allowed himself to go.

“Didn’t think I’d sleep at all after…all that,” he murmured, a soft, uncertain smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I was wrong.”

I returned his smile, feeling a familiar warmth in my chest, something reassuring in the simple honesty of his words. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Sometimes…letting it out is what we need most, even if it doesn’t feel that way at first.”

He nodded, his gaze lowering for a moment as if considering, his fingers tightening slightly around mine before he looked up again, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity softened by a hint of doubt. “Feels strange, though. Like…I handed you all these pieces and don’t know how to put them back together.”

“You don’t have to, not alone,” I replied gently, my hand resting between us in the space that felt both close and infinite. “I’m here. For all of it.”

He gave me a look that held a thousand unspoken words—gratitude, fear, maybe a flicker of relief. For a few heartbeats, we just stayed like that, searching each other’s faces, and I could feel the distance between us shrinking, inch by inch. There was something in the way he looked at me—like he was seeing parts of me even I hadn’t fully discovered yet. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once.

His fingers brushed lightly against mine, his touch tentative but steadying, as though testing the reality of it all. In sleep, he’d looked almost boyish, the weight of his past hidden away. Now, in the light of day, he seemed both softer and stronger, as though the openness from last night had reshaped him in some unnameable way, something both fragile and enduring.

Without thinking, I let my hand move, reaching out to gently trace the curve of his eyebrow, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. His eyes softened, his breathing slowing as if settling into the quiet rhythm between us. He didn’t move, letting me take the lead. My fingers drifted down, following the line of his cheekbone and along his jaw, where rough stubble met the softness of his skin. The feeling was familiar but electric, each touch revealing something new, something I hadn’t noticed before, like he’d always been waiting for me to look closer.

A few stray strands of hair had fallen across his temple, softening his usually sharp features. I reached up, hesitating for just a second before tucking the hair back behind his ear, the gesture so natural it felt like breathing. It was something he’d done for me countless times, a quiet intimacy that now felt strangely reverent with the roles reversed.

He looked at me with an openness I wasn’t used to, something soft and vulnerable lingering in his eyes, and my heart clenched with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. Slowly, tentatively, I leaned forward, letting my lips press gently against a faint freckle on his cheek, feeling him exhale softly as if even that small touch lifted something from him, letting him know he was seen, he was safe.

I kissed each tiny mark, tracing an invisible path across his skin, each kiss a silent promise, a quiet assurance that I was here, that he didn’t have to put himself back together alone. When I pulled back, his eyes held a warmth that felt like sunrise, steady and reassuring, a look that said he knew I meant every word I’d promised.

And as we lay there, tangled in each other and the soft light of the morning, I knew we had something real. Something worth holding onto.

Hank shifted slightly, his arm tightening around me as he settled into the quiet comfort between us. His voice was soft, still thick with sleep, as he murmured, “I don’t have to be back at work until Monday night. So…looks like we’ve got the whole weekend together.”

A warmth spread through me, gentle but thrilling, as I met his gaze. The thought of having him all to myself for two whole days felt both rare and perfect. I leaned into him, closing the small distance between us, my fingers brushing lightly over his as I let the quiet anticipation settle around us.

For a moment, neither of us moved, simply soaking in the closeness. His thumb stroked a soft, idle pattern on the back of my hand, a touch that felt like a silent promise. I brought our entwined hands up to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles, my eyes meeting his with a soft smile.

“Bud’s probably wondering why breakfast is late,” I said softly. “Stay here,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, as though he couldn’t bear the thought of even a brief separation. His fingers tightened around mine, a gentle but insistent pull that made me want to sink back into him completely.

I smiled, lingering just a heartbeat longer, and then shook my head with a playful sigh. “I’ll only be a minute. Bud needs me too.” I slipped out of his arms, feeling his reluctant release as I slid out of bed. He groaned playfully, flopping back onto the pillow, but his eyes followed me, a warm, sleepy gaze that made me want to hurry through the task just to return.

I padded to the kitchen, where Bud waited with a patient stare, rubbing against my leg as I filled his bowl. “Alright, big guy,” I murmured, stroking his head before setting his food down. He purred contentedly, and I couldn’t help but smile at his simplicity—the straightforward needs of a cat, so different from the tangled emotions swirling between Hank and me.

The second I returned to the bedroom, I felt the pull of his presence, something soft and magnetic. Hank had shifted, lying on his side, arm outstretched in invitation. I climbed back into bed, and he wrapped himself around me, pulling me close until I fit perfectly against him, my back to his chest, his arm draped over mine.

We lay there, bodies pressed together, warm and secure. His fingers intertwined with mine, holding gently, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of my hand. I could feel his breath against my neck, each soft exhale centring me, drawing me deeper into the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“This,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear, “this is all I need.”

I smiled, closing my eyes as I settled into his embrace, letting myself be completely held. The weight of his arm across me, the warmth of his skin against mine—it felt like a kind of trust, a silent promise that didn’t need words. I nestled closer, feeling his steady heartbeat against my back, a rhythm that seemed to match mine, syncing us in a way that felt new and yet completely natural.

Neither of us spoke for a while, letting the silence carry us, content just to be close. The world outside felt distant, unimportant, as if this bed, this room, was the only place that mattered. His fingers brushed up and down my arm in soothing strokes, and I felt myself relaxing even more, sinking into the softness of the morning.

Eventually, he whispered, “I could stay like this forever.”

“Then don’t move,” I whispered back, a smile playing at my lips.

His hold tightened just a little, as though he wanted to anchor me here, to keep me in this moment with him. I felt his lips press a soft kiss to my shoulder, the touch featherlight but filled with so much warmth that it made my heart ache in the best way. In the stillness, there was a tenderness that made time feel irrelevant, and as we lay there, I knew this was a memory we’d both hold onto—a morning where the world felt far away, and we had nothing but time.

Time passed in a quiet blur, marked only by the steady rise and fall of our breathing, the faint sounds of the world just beginning to stir outside. Every now and then, his hand would shift, fingers grazing my arm or drawing small, aimless patterns along my skin, as though he wanted to memorise the feel of me, of this moment.

At one point, he shifted slightly, resting his chin gently atop my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever done this before,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his voice pulling at something deep within me.

“Done what?” I asked softly, letting my hand cover his where it lay draped over me.

“Just…lay here. Doing nothing. Letting it be enough,” he said, a quiet wonder in his voice, as though the simplicity of it both puzzled and amazed him.

A soft smile curved my lips, and I turned just enough to catch his gaze, my eyes reflecting everything I couldn’t quite put into words. “Then let it be enough, just this once.”

He held my gaze, his fingers lacing with mine as he drew me back against him, his arm wrapping around me with a gentle but steady hold. I felt his chest press warmly to my back, his breath brushing against my neck in a way that felt intimate and safe, as if he was anchoring me to this moment.

Slowly, I turned my head just enough to close the distance, my lips finding his in a kiss that was soft and steady. His hand tightened around mine, and I could feel the warmth of his smile against my mouth, a quiet reassurance that we both felt the same pull. His thumb brushed gently over my knuckles, the movement small but filled with so much tenderness it made my heart ache.

When we finally pulled back, he nestled his face into the curve of my shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the back of my neck. The simple gesture sent a shiver through me, anchoring me deeper in the closeness we shared, with no need for words or explanations.

He pulled me even closer, his arm tightening around my waist, our fingers still intertwined. His hand rested just over my heart, where he could feel each steady beat, matching his own. In his embrace, I felt completely safe, as if time had slowed to give us these rare, unhurried moments of peace.

The world outside became a distant hum, unimportant and quiet, as though it had taken a step back, giving us the space to just…be. In the warmth of his arms, I felt my eyes grow heavy, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breath, and I let myself drift back to sleep, content and weightless, held in a moment that felt endless.

As I stirred awake, the morning light was still soft, casting warm hues over the room. Hank’s arm was wrapped securely around me, his chest pressed against my back, a comforting weight that kept the outside world at bay. I lay there, sinking into the feel of him, the quiet intimacy settling in my bones.

A slight movement from him brought me back into awareness, his fingers tracing gentle circles on my stomach. I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened around me, his touch becoming more deliberate. His breath, warm against my neck, sent a shiver through me, and my lips parted in a soft exhale as he brushed a tender kiss along the curve of my shoulder.

I felt him then, his arousal pressing against me, solid and real, and instinctively, I pressed back into him. He responded with a low murmur, his hand sliding up my side, fingertips grazing my skin as though he was memorising every inch. He continued his slow, reverent kisses along my shoulder, up to the base of my neck, his mouth lingering, each press of his lips soft but loaded with intent.

My pulse quickened as his hand moved higher, grazing the side of my breast. His fingers brushed my skin with a gentleness that made me ache, his touch unhurried, as though he wanted to savour every moment. I leaned back into him, letting myself be held, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my back, our breaths syncing in a quiet rhythm.

Hank’s hand moved over my breast, his palm warm as he cupped me gently, his thumb ghosting slow circles over my nipple, which hardened instantly under his touch. I closed my eyes, absorbing the sensations as a soft moan escaped my lips, my hand finding his, lacing our fingers together as he continued his slow exploration.

He pressed another kiss to my shoulder, his mouth soft, lingering there as if he was pouring every unspoken feeling into that touch. His other hand drifted lower, slipping over my hip, his touch light but intentional as he guided my leg forward, opening me to him. My breath caught as I felt him adjust behind me, the unmistakable press of him against me, filling me with anticipation.

Slowly, I reached down, my fingers trailing along my body until they found his, and together, they guided him into place. I felt the warmth of him, the promise of his body ready to join mine, and a thrill ran through me as my fingers brushed both my own heat and his hardness at the same time. I lingered there, touching myself while feeling him, the dual sensation heightening the intimacy of the moment.

Hank moved slowly, his hands steadying my hips as he eased himself forward, filling me inch by inch, his breath a warm whisper against my neck. We moved together in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing, my body adjusting to his, meeting him with a softness that felt both tender and grounding. His fingers continued their slow circles on my skin, reassuring, each touch a silent promise.

My hand found his at my waist, and I entwined our fingers, holding on as he moved within me, his thrusts slow and deep, as though he wanted to savour every second of our connection. I leaned back, letting myself feel him fully, feel the reaffirming way he held me, the way he moved with me as if this was exactly where he belonged.

We stayed wrapped in that gentle, unhurried pace, our breaths and heartbeats becoming one, our bodies speaking all the words we didn’t need to say. I reached back, running my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until I felt his lips against my shoulder again, pressing kisses that felt reverent, anchoring.

With each slow, deep thrust, I felt myself surrendering more to the rhythm we’d built between us, each movement drawing me closer to him. His hand drifted to my hip, gripping me firmly, pulling me to him as he pressed himself deeper, filling me in a way that felt like he was leaving a part of himself with every motion.

A soft, needy sound escaped my lips, and in response, he tightened his hold on my hip, pulling me closer still, pressing his mouth to the curve of my neck. I could feel his breath, warm and heavy, before his lips found my skin, grazing and then pressing, a kiss that lingered and grew into something more. His mouth worked softly at first, but as his teeth grazed and his lips closed around my skin, I knew he was marking me, leaving something behind that felt like both a claim and a promise.

Ordinarily, I’d shy away from something so visible, but now, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, I wanted it—I wanted him to leave a trace of himself on me, something to carry with me beyond this moment. I tilted my head slightly, offering him more of my neck, feeling a thrill run through me as his mouth pressed harder, drawing a soft moan from me, his mark imprinted on my skin in a way that felt both possessive and tender.

My hand drifted down, fingers finding the heat between my legs, touching myself with a gentle, circling motion, heightening each sensation as his body moved in sync with mine. I felt the rush of warmth build under my fingertips, every touch sending ripples of pleasure through me. My hand slid further down, fingers brushing over where he entered me, feeling the firm, steady rhythm of him moving in and out, a connection that felt so profoundly intimate it made my breath hitch.

Hank’s grip on my hip tightened, his rhythm growing just a fraction deeper, each thrust deliberate and affirming, as though he wanted to imprint this moment on both of us. My breathing quickened, and I pressed my fingers harder against myself, the pleasure building into something urgent, something I couldn’t hold back.

I could feel him tense behind me, his breath heavy and uneven against my neck, his mouth still grazing the mark he’d left, his hand tightening on my hip as if to steady himself. The sounds he made, soft and barely restrained, were like a whisper of everything we felt but didn’t need to say. And as my body moved closer to release, he matched each movement, guiding me there with him, his every touch a promise that he was right there, holding me, carrying me through.

I felt the wave crest, my body clenching around him, my hand pressing harder as I spiralled into release, a soft cry escaping my lips as he held me, his grip on my hip steadying me, his mouth pressed to my neck, murmuring words I couldn’t quite catch but that only drew me deeper into the moment.

As I trembled in his arms, I felt him reach his own edge, his hold on me tightening as he let go, his body shuddering against mine, his hand still holding me close, as though he never wanted to let go. We stayed like that, entwined and connected, our breaths slowly finding a rhythm again as we came down, tangled together in the quiet aftermath of our shared release.

A gentle stillness settled around us as our breaths began to slow, the warmth of his body enveloping me like a blanket that felt both secure and freeing. His hand, still wrapped around my waist, softened its grip, fingers tracing soothing patterns over my skin as if to reassure me that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere. I nestled back into him, letting the remnants of our connection linger, my body still humming with the aftershocks of our closeness.

Hank pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, a silent thank you, a reminder that every moment we’d shared was as real for him as it was for me. His lips lingered, trailing up to the mark he’d left on my neck, and he touched it with his thumb, a small, almost reverent gesture that sent a shiver through me despite the calmness between us.

I smiled, reaching up to cover his hand with mine, our fingers interlocking. “Guess I’ll be wearing a scarf for the next few days,” I murmured with a soft laugh, the warmth of his touch still fresh against my skin.

He chuckled, his breath a warm whisper against my ear. “Good. That way, you’ll have a reminder… of this,” he replied, his voice quiet but full of meaning. “Of us.”

The weight of his words settled over me, comforting and exhilarating all at once. I squeezed his hand, letting the silence speak for us, because words felt unnecessary, almost too small for the magnitude of what I was feeling.

We lay there like that for a while, our bodies entangled, our hearts still beating in sync. The world outside was still distant, and there was a peacefulness in the quiet rhythm of our breathing, as though time itself had slowed, allowing us to savour this fragile, beautiful moment.

Eventually, Hank’s fingers began a lazy, comforting stroke along my arm, tracing an invisible line up and down, each touch calming and centring. He rested his chin gently on my shoulder, his presence a steady warmth that felt like home.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked softly, his voice warm, carrying a hint of curiosity but mostly a willingness to simply be wherever I wanted to be.

I tilted my head back to catch his gaze, smiling. “I kind of just want to stay right here…with you.”

He smiled, his eyes softening, and he pressed a tender kiss to my temple. “That sounds perfect to me.”

We stayed wrapped up in each other for a while longer, drifting in and out of quiet conversation, his arm draped over me, fingers tracing small circles along my back. At one point, I shifted to face him, nestling into the curve of his shoulder, my hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my fingertips. The morning felt soft, untouched by any need to move or be anywhere but here.

A sudden pounce on the bed signalled Bud’s arrival. He nestled himself right between us, his small body curling into the gap as though he, too, wanted to be part of our little world. I laughed, reaching out to scratch behind his ears, and Hank’s fingers brushed over mine as he joined in, both of us petting Bud until his purring filled the room, a soft, steady hum that seemed to lull us all back into a comfortable quiet.

Eventually, a thirst for water made it impossible to stay cocooned in bed any longer. With a soft sigh, I slid out from under the blankets, grabbing his T-shirt from the floor and slipping it on, the fabric hanging loose around me, warm from the feel of him. Hank stretched, rolling onto his back, his gaze following me with a lazy warmth.

“Come on,” I murmured, smiling over my shoulder as I padded to the kitchen.

He pulled on his boxers and followed me, tousled and unhurried, his hand grazing my waist as we reached the kitchen. I filled two glasses with cold water, passing one to him, both of us taking long sips, feeling the refreshing coolness spread through us after the warmth of bed.

“Stay here. I’ll make us something,” I murmured, flashing him a soft smile as I reached for the ingredients.

He settled into one of the kitchen chairs, looking completely at ease, his gaze following me with an unguarded affection that sent a warm flush through me. Moving around the kitchen in his T-shirt, I felt a strange comfort and intimacy, as if the shirt itself were an extension of him, wrapping me in his presence.

I grabbed the waffle iron and the ingredients, quickly mixing up the batter. His eyes stayed on me as I worked, the shirt skimming my thighs. I poured the batter, watching the steam rise as the waffles cooked, filling the kitchen with a cosy warmth and the familiar scent of maple syrup.

A few minutes later, I plated the waffles, drizzling them with warm maple syrup, and handed him a plate. His eyes lit up, and he wasted no time digging in, a soft groan of appreciation escaping as he took his first bite.

“These are… amazing,” he said between bites, looking up at me with a grin that made my heart flutter. “You’re holding out on some serious waffle skills.”

I laughed, taking a seat across from him with my own plate. “Just something I picked up along the way.”

We ate in companionable silence, each bite filling and warm, the simple act of sharing a meal keeping us rooted in the moment. I sipped my orange juice, watching him polish off his waffles and then down his water, a content expression settling over his features. He looked satisfied, relaxed in a way I didn’t often see, his gaze drifting out the window where the Hudson stretched in the distance, the city calm beneath the late morning light.

Leaning back in my chair, I propped my feet up on the table’s edge, letting the moment linger. His shirt had slipped a little higher on my thigh, and I noticed his eyes catch on the bare skin exposed there, a flicker of heat in his gaze as he realised I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. A quiet thrill moved through me, the awareness between us simmering just beneath the surface.

I raised an eyebrow, a small, teasing smile playing on my lips. “See something you like?”

His eyes met mine, that warmth deepening. “More than a few things,” he replied, his voice a touch rough, the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine, a simple touch that felt both grounding and electric.

Without breaking eye contact, he moved his hand lower, fingers gently curling around my ankle. He held it with a gentleness that belied the intensity in his gaze, his thumb brushing soft circles against my skin. Slowly, he lifted my foot, pressing a soft kiss to my ankle, his lips warm against the delicate skin. I shivered, feeling the warmth spread up my leg, the thrill of anticipation building as he took his time, each kiss a deliberate, gentle exploration.

He didn’t rush, his mouth tracing a slow, teasing path up my calf, his eyes lifting every so often to catch my gaze, a spark of mischief and intent flickering there. As he reached my knee, he lowered my foot to the ground, but instead of rising, he slid off his chair, sinking down onto his knees in front of me. My breath hitched, heart beating a little faster as he settled himself between my legs, his hands gliding up my thighs with a quiet reverence.

His lips brushed against the inside of my knee, featherlight, lingering there as if he was savouring the feel of my skin under his mouth. I leaned back, feeling my pulse quicken, my body responding to each touch, every careful kiss. Slowly, he worked his way up my thigh, his mouth tracing a path that was both tender and teasing, each touch building the anticipation, stoking the quiet, simmering heat between us.

As he reached the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his hands tightened their hold, anchoring me, keeping me steady as his mouth moved closer to the ache that had been building with every kiss, every glance. His gaze lifted once more, and the intensity there made my breath catch, a wordless promise that sent a thrill through me.

With a firm yet gentle pull, he drew me forward until I was perched at the very edge of the chair, his hands drifting over my knees, coaxing my legs wider as he settled even closer. His lips continued their path, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin near the apex of my thigh, the heat of his breath making my head spin. My fingers gripped the edge of the chair, anticipation thrumming through my veins as I watched him, feeling completely vulnerable and yet utterly safe under his steady gaze.

When his mouth reached the soft skin just below my hip, he paused, his breath hot and steady against me. My pulse raced, each beat building the anticipation until it felt like every nerve was focused solely on him. I watched as he lifted my legs, draping them over his shoulders, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place. The feel of his hands, firm and reassuring, paired with the intense gaze he held me with, sent a shiver through me that only deepened the ache pooling low in my belly.

Then, without further hesitation, his mouth found me. His lips pressed against my most sensitive spot, warm and gentle at first, a slow, deliberate kiss that drew a breathless gasp from me. His tongue traced a soft, teasing path, each movement controlled, unhurried, exploring me with a reverence that made my skin tingle. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending alight under his careful attention.

A soft, satisfied hum escaped him, vibrating against me, and I felt a rush of warmth at the sound, knowing my reaction stirred something deep in him. He continued with a steady rhythm, his tongue circling, pressing, coaxing me closer with each pass. My fingers slipped into his hair, gripping as he deepened his touch, his mouth working against me in a way that was both skilled and achingly tender. The pressure built slowly, a delicious intensity that had me shifting in his hold, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

His hands tightened around my thighs, anchoring me as he adjusted slightly, pressing his mouth harder against me, his tongue and lips moving with an intensity that left me breathless. My back arched, a soft moan escaping as he found a perfect rhythm, the sensation so consuming it felt as though I could dissolve into it. My hands slid down, one gripping his shoulder, the other resting on his forearm, needing to hold onto something as he continued, each movement deliberate, thorough.

He responded with a low groan, his movements growing just a bit more focused, as though my sounds guided him. His breath, warm and uneven, washed over me with every shift, and I could feel him responding to every tremor, every gasp that escaped my lips.

His hands flexed on my thighs as he sensed my body tightening, my breathing growing shallow and quick. He pulled me even closer, the soft sounds of his pleasure blending with mine, a quiet harmony that only heightened the closeness between us. Each noise he made felt like an affirmation, a gentle promise that he was as affected as I was, completely in sync.

My back lifted off the chair as his tongue worked against me, swirling and pressing with unrelenting precision. Each deliberate movement drew me tighter, a desperate sound escaping as he pulled me closer to the edge, every flick and swirl so consuming it was as if he was unraveling me one touch at a time.

He seemed to sense the exact moment when the pleasure crested, his movements coaxing me over the edge with a precision that felt both gentle and powerful. I shuddered, my body arching as a wave of pleasure washed over me, his mouth still moving, guiding me through each tremor, grounding me in his hold. The world blurred, my senses overwhelmed, every touch, every kiss, every whisper of breath blending into a symphony of sensation.

When I opened my eyes, he was gazing up at me, a warm, satisfied smile on his face. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my thigh before he lowered my legs from his shoulders, his hands still warm and reassuring on my hips. Rising slowly, he brought his face close to mine, his thumb brushing softly over my cheek as he looked at me with that familiar, tender intensity.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with a quiet reverence that made my heart flutter.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss that was soft and tender, a quiet echo of everything we’d shared. The taste of me lingered on his lips, a reminder of the closeness we’d just experienced, the quiet intimacy that bound us together in a way that felt deeper, more profound than words could capture.

Our kiss deepened, growing slower and softer, the kind of kiss that felt like sinking into something warm and familiar. But as our smiles began to creep in, it became harder to keep up the rhythm. My lips curled against his, and I could feel his mouth twitching with his own grin, the playfulness bubbling up between us. Then, just as we leaned in again, our teeth knocked together with a soft, awkward clink. We both froze, then burst out laughing, the sound filling the room as I pulled back, covering my mouth.

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning, his hand resting lightly on my waist. “Guess we’re not as smooth as we thought,” he murmured, his own laughter softening into a warm, amused smile.

I bit my lip, feeling a blush spread over my cheeks. “I just… I feel like a horny teenager,” I admitted, laughing softly.

He chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and leading me back toward the bed. “If we’re going to feel like teenagers, we might as well do it somewhere comfortable.”

We settled back onto the bed, lying side by side, limbs entangled as we caught our breath. After a moment, I looked at him thoughtfully, imagining a teenage version of Hank. “You must’ve had girls lining up for you,” I said, a teasing smile pulling at my lips. “Tall, athletic, funny… you probably had half the school crushing on you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, I had my awkward phase too. Gangly, too many freckles, braces—the whole package.”

I tried to picture it but struggled to imagine him anything but effortlessly charming. “Still, I bet you outgrew it fast.”

He shrugged, a sheepish grin forming. “Maybe… but I still wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular.” His gaze softened, turning curious. “What about you? I bet you were the cute, mysterious girl everyone wanted to know more about.”

I shrugged. “More like invisible, honestly. I had friends, but… no one ever really saw me as more than that. I was quieter than the other girls who were… you know, bubbly, a little louder. It didn’t really stand out.”

Hank tilted his head, studying me. “I would’ve liked you. It’s always the quiet ones, you know.” His voice was gentle, sincere, and for a moment, I felt a soft warmth spread through me.

I smiled, reaching for his hand. “Alright, so tell me—when was your first kiss?”

He grinned, leaning back as he thought about it. “I was twelve. My first date, believe it or not—my mum actually dropped us off at the movies. I remember sharing popcorn, all nerves and sweaty palms, and then… about halfway through, I made my move. Leaned over and just… kissed her.”

I grinned, picturing him as an eager twelve-year-old, nervously going in for that first kiss. “Bold. I’m impressed.”

“And what about you?” he asked, turning the tables.

I sighed, already cringing at the memory. “I was fourteen, it was at this under-16s event at a local club. They had a DJ, dance floor, the whole vibe—just no alcohol, obviously. Anyway, I spotted a cute guy, and my friend, bless her, decided to play matchmaker. She ran over to tell him I thought he was cute. I was mortified.”

Hank’s laughter echoed around the room, and I joined in, the memory both embarrassing and oddly endearing in hindsight.

“So, what happened?” he pressed, clearly invested.

“Well, he just came over and planted one on me. No ‘hi,’ no conversation. Just… straight in, and it was… awful,” I said, wincing. “Way too much tongue, sooooo sloppy. I pushed him away and went back to my friends. Never found out his name, never saw him again.”

Hank laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, I think that wins for worst first kiss. You didn’t even get his name?”

“Nope.” I smiled, shrugging. “A true mystery man. Didn’t matter though—no one else even looked my way until college.”

He leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss along my temple. “Their loss,” he murmured, and the simplicity of his words left a warmth lingering between us, settling deeper than I expected.

We lay there, tangled up in each other, sharing old memories and quiet laughter, each story revealing a little more of who we’d once been and the path that led us here. And as the early afternoon light shifted softly across the room, I realised these moments—these quiet, unguarded glimpses—were exactly what I’d been hoping to find.

We stayed curled up in bed, limbs entwined, the warmth of his body melding with mine as the hours slipped by, unnoticed. We shared more stories, our voices soft in the quiet, the closeness weaving an unspoken connection between us that felt both thrilling and achingly real. Hank’s fingers moved gently along my arm as he listened, his gaze attentive, as though every word mattered. And with each memory, every laugh, we sank deeper into a shared intimacy that felt as natural as breathing.

When words gave way to silence, our bodies took over, finding each other in gentle touches and lingering kisses. It was unhurried, a delicate dance that felt equal parts exploration and surrender, as if the only goal was to lose ourselves in the warmth and comfort we’d created together. His hands roamed my skin, fingertips mapping a path that made me shiver, and I found myself memorising the curve of his shoulders, the way his breathing shifted with each soft touch. There was something deeply grounding in the simplicity of it—no rush, no expectations, just the two of us discovering what it meant to truly let someone in.

By the time the sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting golden light across the bed, our stomachs reminded us of the real world outside our little cocoon. Hank’s hand slipped down to his phone, pulling up a menu. “Pizza?” he asked, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Or are you in the mood for something fancier?”

I smiled, nestling closer. “Pizza sounds perfect. Let’s keep it simple.”

He nodded, ordering without missing a beat, as though he knew exactly what toppings I’d choose. When he hung up, he turned back to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders to pull me close. We lay like that, content in the warmth of each other’s presence, the quiet broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond the window.

When the pizza arrived, we sat cross-legged on the bed, laughing as we devoured each slice. It felt wonderfully normal, like we’d been doing this forever. Hank looked at me over the edge of his slice, a soft, almost hesitant smile on his face.

“So, tomorrow,” he began, tracing patterns in the pizza box with his finger, “I was thinking… we could go to the aquarium? Coney Island, maybe?”

My face lit up at the suggestion. “The aquarium? I haven’t been in years. I’d love that.”

His smile widened, a glimmer of excitement flashing in his eyes. “Good. I thought it might be fun to do something different… and I like the idea of us just… being together.”

I leaned over, brushing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Perfect. It sounds perfect.”

We lingered there, talking about everything and nothing, spinning plans for tomorrow while sharing quiet glances that said far more than our words.

The evening unfolded in a gentle rhythm, each small moment settling comfortably into the quiet intimacy we’d built together. After we’d shared the last of the pizza, Hank wandered into the kitchen to fetch Bud’s dinner, calling for him with a soft whistle. Bud trotted over, tail high and eyes bright with anticipation. He rubbed against Hank’s leg, giving a low purr as Hank scratched him behind the ears before setting down his bowl. We stood together, watching Bud eat with contented little snuffles, our hands brushing as we leaned against the counter.

There was something deeply satisfying in this simplicity, the way even the smallest routines felt like tiny acts of closeness. Clearing the plates, rinsing them together, and putting away the empty pizza box—all of it took on a new meaning, like we were building a little world just for us, even in these fleeting, everyday moments.

Once the kitchen was tidied, Hank stretched his arms over his head, giving me a sleepy smile as he reached for my hand. “How about a shower before bed?” he suggested, his voice low, carrying that familiar warmth. There was no rush, no urgency—just the simple, comforting idea of sharing the quiet before sleep.

I nodded, letting him lead me to the bathroom, his hand warm around mine. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the steam curled softly through the air, misting over the mirror and filling the space with a gentle warmth. We stepped in together, letting the water cascade over us, creating a private world where nothing else existed but the soft patter of droplets and the quiet presence of each other.

Hank’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as he lathered up the shampoo and began working it gently through my hair. His fingers massaged my scalp with a tenderness that felt both intimate and unassuming, each touch a quiet reminder of his care. I closed my eyes, sinking into the sensation, letting the water and his hands wash away the remnants of the day. He rinsed my hair with a slow, careful touch, his fingers threading through each strand, ensuring that every last bit of shampoo was gone.

When he finished, he turned me gently, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before I reached for the body wash, mirroring his careful, deliberate touch as I lathered his shoulders and chest, my hands moving over him with the same unspoken promise.

With each movement, each soft touch, it felt like we were sharing something beyond words, a connection that went deeper than the physical. As I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palms, I looked up to find him watching me, his gaze warm and open, his eyes reflecting the quiet understanding that filled the space between us.

When he took the body wash from me, I caught his eye, smiling softly, and he returned the look with a warmth that made my heart flutter. He started with my shoulders, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles, the gentle pressure relaxing every muscle. As he worked his way down my back, his fingers tracing along my spine, I felt the pleasant soreness between my thighs, a lingering reminder of the passion we’d shared earlier in the day.

His gaze fell to the faint hickey he’d left on my neck that morning, a soft blush blooming where his lips had been. He brushed a thumb over it, smiling to himself before his hands continued their path down my body, washing over my hips and stomach with a care that felt almost reverent.

As his hands moved lower, he paused, his touch growing more deliberate as he lathered the body wash over my thighs. When his fingers slipped between my legs, his touch was gentle, his fingers moving in slow, tender circles that sent a soft gasp tumbling from my lips. The delicate way he washed over me, his fingers brushing against my folds with careful, unhurried strokes, made me feel seen and cherished in a way that was almost overwhelming.

I opened my eyes to meet his gaze, and in that instant, something shifted between us, a quiet intensity building in the warmth of the water and the softness of his touch. He leaned in, capturing my mouth in a kiss that started soft but deepened quickly, his hands steadying me as I wrapped one leg around his waist, drawing him closer.

He pressed me back against the cool tiles, his body flush against mine, his length hard against my thigh, a promise of everything I already craved. His mouth moved from my lips to the hollow of my throat, lingering over the hickey he’d left earlier, his tongue tracing it slowly before he kissed his way down, each touch igniting a fresh wave of heat beneath my skin.

His hands moved to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through me as he took his time, his mouth following the path of his hands, his kisses trailing down until I was arching into him, breathless and aching. The contrast of his warm, wet mouth against my skin and the cool tile at my back made every sensation sharper, more vivid, as though he were marking every inch of me.

He lifted me slightly, his hands firm on my hips, and I felt him position himself, his cock pressing insistently against me. Slowly, he entered me, inch by inch, filling me with a deliberate slowness that left me gasping, my fingers clutching his shoulders as he pushed deeper. The stretch was intense, a delicious pressure that mingled with the soft ache from earlier, heightening every sensation until I could hardly breathe.

He moved within me with a slow, steady rhythm, his hands gripping my hips as he guided me, each thrust measured, each movement unhurried, as though he wanted to memorise the feel of me. His mouth found mine again, his kisses deep and consuming, the warmth of his tongue meeting mine in a way that mirrored the slow, intimate dance of our bodies.

I reached down, my hand slipping between us to touch my clit, each gentle stroke amplifying the pleasure coursing through me. He felt my touch, a low, guttural sound escaping him as he tightened his hold on me, his pace quickening slightly as I worked myself closer to the edge. His mouth moved back to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his hands pressed my hips firmly against him, our bodies locked in a rhythm that was both tender and fierce.

The pleasure built and built, coiling tight and hot until it finally shattered, my body clenching around him as a wave of release swept over me. I clung to him, lost in the sensation as he held me steady, his movements carrying me through every tremor, every pulse of pleasure. He followed moments later, his grip on my hips tightening as he buried himself deep, a shudder running through him as he let go, our bodies locked together in the warm cocoon of the water.

We stayed like that for a few moments, his forehead resting against mine as we caught our breath, the steady beat of his heart thrumming against my chest, grounding me in the closeness we’d created.

Gently, he set me down, still holding me close as he reached for the thick, fluffy towel nearby. He wrapped it around me with a tenderness that sent a gentle ache through my chest, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I reached up to towel off his hair, grinning as he leaned into my touch, his eyes filled with a playful warmth that mirrored my own.

We moved to the sink, brushing our teeth side by side, standing close enough that our arms brushed now and then. I caught his eye in the mirror, and we both smiled, sharing a small, almost childlike amusement at this shared, ordinary moment. It was strange, but standing there with toothpaste foam on our mouths and a sleepy contentment in our eyes felt as intimate as any kiss we’d shared.

I took my time drying my hair, enjoying the lingering warmth of his touch, the softness of the towel around me. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, I found Hank already stretched out on the bed, his breathing deep and even as he’d drifted off, one arm sprawled across the pillow beside him. Bud was curled up near his side, a small ball of fur nestled into the blankets, his tiny body rising and falling in time with Hank’s breaths. The sight filled me with a gentle warmth, a sense of contentment settling over me as I realised how natural this scene felt, like we’d been doing this forever.

I switched off the bathroom light, leaving a soft, dim glow in the room as I climbed into bed. Sliding under the covers, I nestled against Hank’s side, fitting myself into the familiar curve of his body. Even in his sleep, he instinctively shifted, wrapping his arm around me, his hand resting lightly against my back. I could feel the slow, steady beat of his heart under my cheek, a quiet, reassuring rhythm that seemed to sync perfectly with mine.

As I lay there, the events of the day drifted through my mind like scenes in a film—our laughter, the playful teasing, the stories we’d shared, and the warmth of his hand in mine. Each memory felt like a piece of something we were building together, something that felt both fragile and resilient, like the kind of trust that could weather anything.

I turned slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, my lips brushing against his warm skin. Bud stirred beside us, curling up a little closer, his purring a gentle hum that filled the quiet, lulling me further into the comfort of the moment. The weight of Hank’s arm over me, the warmth of his body against mine, the soft breaths that filled the room—it all felt like a promise, a silent vow that we were in this together, wherever it might lead.

With a final, sleepy smile, I let myself relax completely, letting the peace of the evening wash over me as I drifted off, cocooned in the warmth of Hank’s embrace and the contentment of a day spent in quiet closeness. And as I closed my eyes, feeling his heartbeat steady under my cheek, I realised that this—this quiet, unassuming closeness—was all I’d ever wanted.

Masterlist

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

About your Amity's post, I get some of the points but there are some constructive points I want to bring up.

Amity doesn't stand up against her parents for Luz only, she also does that for other people on the Boiling Isles. In Clouds on the Horizon, at the first scene, she and her siblings try to find ways to tell Odalia and Alador that they're unknowingly helping Belos. “Someone has to tell Mom about the draining spell, or else she and Dad are helping Belos hurt people.” The people in Amity's saying don't include Luz, because the draining spell only hurts witches with sigils, while Luz doesn't have one. Even when she's captured in a shield, her first thing she says to Odalia is “Don't you get it? You're helping a witch hunter destroy everything.”

In Reaching Out, Amity wants to reconnect with her father through the Brawl champion. Abomination is Amity's personal interest since she dyes her hair purple because it's an Abomination color. In the Brawl matches, it can be seen that Amity has unique fighting skills with Abomination, she can use it to fly, move it from one place to the other and turn her hands into Abomination like Darius. She trains magic a lot so she can improve like this.

Luz's trauma is focused at the end of the episode, but in the first half, Amity's father issue is more focused. He never listens to her and underestimates her, he's also controlling in some sense. He also destroys her book by cutting it in half. Also, the bond Amity has with Edric and Emira is overlooked as well. They give Amity the concealment stones, and are willing to show their ‘imperfect’ real selves. Emira even tries hard to heal her sister. They cheer for Amity from the stand and they get protective of Amity when Alador grabs her and throws her down. The Blight siblings play an important role in Amity's growth and development, and it's not just only Luz like how the fandom flanderizes.

Amity is only 14, and an abused victim. She only gets out of her mother's influence and she struggles to find what she wants. What Amity wants is the ability to decide for herself. Amity is in her transitional period, her biggest wish is making decisions herself, that's how she connects to Ghost. When Alador underestimates her and wants her to stay back, she still stands up to fight alongside with him and proves that she isn't weak. “I'm gonna make my own decision from now on.” Before knowing what goals or dreams she wants, she has to have the freedom to decide first.

And Odalia does more than bugging Amity about her hair color. Odalia still forces her to join the Emperor's Coven, something that she doesn't want. She was manipulated to believe that it was her dream at first. She treats Amity unfairly compared with Edric and Emira. In the first scene of Clouds on the Horizon, only Amity is criticized and grounded, they only get grounded later on because they try to burn the factory. When the twins try to save the Hexsquad from the shield, Odalia blames it all on Amity, that Amity is the one telling the twins to act out. Odalia even destroys Amity's tamagotchi, her personal belonging. Both Blight parents destroy her belongings like nothing, like a child whose phone gets destroyed by their parents.

Some are too harsh on Amity because she's 14 and they're older than that. They can somehow know what they want for our future. But as a 14 year old, Amity only wants to be a teenager studying and living to the fullest of her life without any pressure. Volunteer to read books for kids, baking, watch Azura and draw, or cosplay her favorite character. She likes Azura way before she even meets Luz. She's still a good student like Season 1 because her magic is much stronger than before. In Sunday momocon panel, Dana confirmed that Bump would have a hard time choosing between Amity and Willow to take to the "Instructing Future Witches of Tomorrow."

When Amity grows up, she can does figure out her ambitions. She becomes an Abomination engineer to create inventions based on her creativity and interests. She's also an explorer, as she travels long distances on the hot air balloon she creates to get Lilith a book. She wants freedom and chances to explore outside after years of being controlled and abused.

first off, thank you for being civil about your argument. you made a lot of points, so i'll address them one by one.

1. yes, amity stood up for the people of the boiling isles, but that was after she already broke free from odalia's influence and got with luz. i was specifically talking about s1 when amity stands up to her parents. at that point, she had no personal goals other than the fact that she liked luz.

2. abomination seems to be amity's personal interest but it also aligns with her parents' goals for her. she was excelling in abomination when she was still under odalia's control. so it doesn't really count as going against her parents' wishes.

not to mention, apart from the scenes where she fights and her hair color (which, i didn't even realize was meant to be inspired by abomination until alador mentioned it), there's not much focus on abomination as amity's special interest. if that was really the goal, they could have put more focus on it.

3. yes, that episode was about amity's relationship with her dad and her siblings. i did acknowledge that. but it doesn't take away from the fact that it's more about interpersonal drama than amity's personal goals. it starts off that way but there's so little focus on amity choosing her own path.

also, luz's trauma isn't only mentioned at the end of the episode, it was the bigger conflict in the entire episode. it starts with luz getting a reminder on her phone and throughout the episode, there's more focus on luz trying to ignore her worries and appear happy, than there is focus on amity.

4. i agree with what you said about amity needing the freedom to do what she wants before she makes a decision. the problem is that there was only one episode centered around that, and that was the episode we just talked about.

i just wish there was more focus on her healing from her trauma and discovering her passions and goals. she is the main character's love interest after all and for a show that's as progressive as toh, i would expect them to know better than to write a love interest whose sole purpose is being a love interest.

if there were more episodes surrounding amity, i wouldn't be complaining so much. and the show being cut short isn't an excuse because there were so many filler episodes that really weren't important to the main plot. the least they could have done is use one of those filler episodes to focus on amity.

5. i understand that amity was still very young and she didn't need to have her entire life figured out at that point. but given that characters like eda and king was given a lot more focus, i just wish they had done the same for amity.

my point is that i would have liked to see the process of amity figuring out her interests and discovering her identity, instead of just getting the end result. yes, we see her volunteer at library (though again, she did that way before her redemption arc and sure, she does seem to genuinely like doing it, but it's still not going against her parents' wishes) or cosplaying (which was done, in part, to comfort luz) but i wanted to see more of the arc that led to amity discovering her own interests, especially after her redemption.

[elainsgirl]

It’s extremely telling that the chapter after Solstice starts with Azriel being more moody and aloof than usual. And also that SJM said that Azriel lost the snowball fight because he kept throwing rocks at Rhys. The snowball fight took place the morning after Azriel’s “life altering” encounter with Gwyn in the training ring, so his anger is very telling. That encounter was bizarre, but it didn’t mean anything to him, or at least it didn’t change his feelings for Elain. Also, three days after the “sparkly” chest, he’s still angry and sad, so that ends the argument that the mating bond snapped into place that night at the library.

Azriel had a good streak going, for him to lose that all because he was upset & angry - is such a big thing. If his feelings for Elain were truly superficial/surface level then…why is he so upset days later? Its mentioned that there’s still some tension between Rhys and Azriel as well. Whats the point of mentioning all of this anger & coldness from Azriel? One could argue that Az was more angry with the fact he was told no instead of being upset at the way Rhys mischaracterised his feelings/thoughts but even then…Azriel is rational. If his feelings weren’t that deep, he’d see where Rhys was coming from, move on from Elain and put the whole thing behind him but he hasn’t. I personally always cringe when gwynriels’ try to make the last part of the bonus romantic for gwynriel. There is nothing romantic about Az giving gwyn a second hand necklace & then not calling her a friend. Sure you could say that thoughts of her smile sparkling and glowing wS romantic but..nothing changes between gwynriel. Its not like Nesta/Cass notice a shift in gwyn and Az. They have the most basic trainer/trainee relationship.

Az doesn’t connect the spark = mates. None of his behaviour towards Gwyn after the bonus gives mates vibes. The BR truly ended the whole “gwynriel are mates” theory. Those that still believe it can’t differentiate between gwyns musical imagery due to her powers & Sjm’s musical imagery in regards too mates, its why gwynriels hold tight too Azriel’s powers reacting to gwyn & the whole glowy chest thing - both instances of magic that’s never specifically just for mated pairs,

Even if Mass was to make gwynriel mates…atp it would just be cheap & not special in the slightest, there’s no coming back from Az not instinctively mirroring Cassian’s mate panic when Gwyn was taken. I just don’t think Sjm can convince me gwynriel have been true mates all along.

Personally If I was a gwynriel, Id abandon the mate theory and stick to Gwyn being an LS as that creates a stronger relation between her and Azriel.

[bluelolblue]

what would canon!Santino think of the m/m fics of him and John? Esp where John gets him pregnant lolol

Hi!! Interesting question! Thanks for letting me yap so much, maybe I got out of the theme a little bit, but I just love talking abt them <3

So, in my opinion, there was definitely some tension going on between Santino and John in the movie. They had so much trust between them - John let Santino into his house without his bodyguards, meaning he trusted him enough to feel safe with him. Yes, Santino helped John with the impossible task that probably made their bond stronger (I'm assuming they were kinda friends before, like Gianna was good with John).

Now, I do believe Santino had a thing for John. There was some romantic tension. I'll explain why I think that way:

1) Santino's intense eye contact with John the whole time. Like, when he was in JOHN'S HOUSE, he literally followed John's eyes the whole time as they talked, even when John kinda looked away for a second. Yes, it was also because Santino wanted to intimidate him, let him know he wasn't fucking around (lol), but he had this unique tension during all that.

Look at him here, for example. He keeps this eye contact the whole time, and it's so beautiful to me. He gets kinda close to John, too. Yes, please look at him and the sparks in his eyes.

2) The way Santino lets himself be vulnerable around John. Basically, when he was alone with John in his house. Like, John could've easily killed him, but still, this man decided to leave his bodyguards and go alone with John. Also, his open, relaxed body language around John. I have talked before about Santino's body language and I think I'd like to do that again, but for this post - Santino really had this level of respect and wanting to be dominant at the same with John.

See here? He made himself feel at home, LITERALLY even told John that this house is part his because of the impossible task. So he felt at home LMAO + with John. Yet, at the same time, a moment of vulnerability.

Here too, in the museum, Santino had this relaxed body language. He wasn't closing his arms, he was actually being pretty open, showing that he doesn't fear him and even let him sit somewhat closer to him - kinda like inviting him into his personal space.

3) Santino's facial expressions. Okay, Riccardo has incredibly good facial expressions, especially when it comes to looking exhausted yet still so powerful, if you know what I mean. Riccardo even said it himself that he played Santino so we could feel empathy for him. He managed that very well, I personally feel strong empathy for Santino. When he was with John in both at his house and in the museum, the camera was really focusing on Santino's face, slowly zooming in on him. And the way he was smiling, taunting John - knowing damn well he was talking with the bogeyman himself, genuinely created a unique tension between them.

His smirk here when he noticed John. It's perfect.

4) The way Santino controls his voice when he talks with John. I love his voice, you can immediately recognize him, and he has this kind of husky voice that gets softer from time to time if you noticed. In the museum especially you can notice that. When he was listening how he imagined John killing him, how his voice was soft, almost whisper like, and then we got to the "How exciting." Line that lives rent-free in my mind. The way he said that specific line, like it was incredible. So soft, quiet, playful. In the movie, you don't hear him use that tone of voice with others.

5) The whole "Reflection of the soul" part where everything just represented them. The mirrors reflecting their souls. Like, I will forever find that fascinating how well those scenes were made, like everything about it, about them as characters, and for me as them as love interests for each other (or at least Santino for John).

6) The "Never one to waste words." Line. This man knows him well. Okay, probably everyone knows that John doesn't talk much, yes... but I kinda find it cute how Santino actually pointed it out, meaning he was paying attention to him and noticed that fact about him. So, he cared enough to notice details about John.

7) The way he said John's name. Even at the very end, when he called him Johnathan, he really had this soft tone that he used almost every time he said his name.

8) He literally fantasized about how John would kill him and thought it was exciting to be killed by his hands. Yes, he was taunting him, but lord have mercy the way he said it and made it look otherwise. He was definitely into that.

Look at him here, little freak. Mhm yeah taunting but secretly so into it. <3

Really, the way Santino was acting with John, literally playing with him, his eye contact, body language... to me it felt like something more. Like Santino had a crush on him, a deeper feeling for him, understanding him.

So, to answer the actual question LMAO what would Canon!Santino think of m/m fics of him and John? I think he'd be into it. Maybe a bit defensive at first but definitely interested and would secretly read them hehe >:]. If John doesn't want to give him attention in real life... he will in fanfics.

As for mpreg AHAHA, well, yeah, we don't know his kinks or from any character, but you never know 😈. I like to think he has praise kink, choking kink, size kink, and lots more I have at some point talked about. So, a possibility he would be into mpreg aren't 0. Maybe he really is >:). To read how he got pregnant (got loads LMAOO) by a man he wished so desperately to be with? It could interest him, why not? Maybe just curiosity or something else ;), definitely would leave him blushing.

My conclusion: He'd like to read those fics, be curious about them, after all he is interested into John, so why not give it a shot eheh, maybe he even learns something new about himself, maybe he'd really enjoy mpreg with him and John! Maybe he'd think about if he got John pregnant too (I wanna write that one day, heheh) >:]

[gooseberryfox]

Saw your tags. Consider this an opportunity to talk about Jack Dalton 😁

you have no idea what you just unleashed. in this essay i will

first off, i just love him as an individual. ignoring (for now) the relationships he has with others, he himself is a gem of a character. Like (i think ) you and lailuh were talking about, the way that he openly expresses emotions- whether that be through tears, yelling, relief colouring his face, whatever, is just so brilliant. He's this ex-delta, ex-CIA super secret agent who's tradtionally known as "the muscle" and yet he still shows these emotions so openly. He's not afraid of what these emotions mean for his "image" because he's just so comfortable in himself that he's able to express them, something I deeply admire about him. Even in front of Matty, he's not afraid to show her what he's feeling, and she (typically) doesn't take advantage of that. Not only that, but his abilities (although often overshadowed or ignored...i'm still salty) aren't soley being strong. He's intelligent, even though he's the butt of most jokes, and he is knowledgeable in his craft. When it really comes down to it, Jack knows what he's doing, and he's confident in that fact. He has fears, he has his moments where he doesn't make the best decisions, but that doesn't ever take away from his character (until he left dot dot dot) and I think it's amazing how he, despite being a "side character", still has such a robust and unique personality. If I could rewrite the show, I would totally show Jack some more respect. He doesn't have to be shown being the only "not nerdy" one in the team all the time, he doesn't need to be constantly disrespected (bathroom tile salesman....really?).

next up is his relationships with other characters. I actually love that he takes time to really get to know each individual he interacts with (except the bad guys but like who cares about them) and that he forms a real, deep bond with the people he cares about. Did Mac and Jack's friendship start with them instantly being besites? Hell no! And that makes the relationship between these two so much stronger. Like he says, it was "forged in fire". He has real, human conflicts and actively tries to solve or at least reduce them, and that, to me, is an admirable trait. He's not perfect. He's not kind, sweet Jack all the time, because humans aren't always the same when they're under extreme stress! But he still tries his best not to burn bridges (tries is keyword), to make things he's done wrong right, and overall protect the people he cares about. He's not one-dimensional at all imo and he has so much potential to create long-lasting, mutually beneficial relationships because he's such a good person.

i also believe he is fundamentally a good person, despite having so much red on his leger. He signed up for that, sure, but I think he's the type of person to still believe that people are naturally good even after seeing all the evil in the world. He, again, made mistakes, he screws things up, but he's still good at heart. He doesn't do things maliciously, he does them through a deep-seeded compassion.

i love him so much 😭

[itzynation]

GRAMMY

In the concept trailer, each member embodies a distinct character in a unique setting, but the final message, "Our World Is Still Different," unites them all. Why did you feel highlighting the concept of being unapologetic yourself was important?

Yuna: It's been a while since we all came back as five, and we really want to show the audience that our friendship is always unique and fun. I think the key elements [for our group] are respect and consideration, and these acts have built trust — creating a stronger and deeper bond.

Lia: The message from our debut hasn't changed. It has always been the same, but with [diverse] themes and perspectives on every comeback. We just thought it was nice timing together as five to remember that message [of being different]. We still feel the same way as we were five, or six years ago, and we will continue to spread it.

Which song from your new album do you believe best reflects this core belief, and in what ways does it connect with your individuality?

Yeji: I believe the title track "GOLD" best represents our individuality, especially because it conveys the message of how we shine most when we are all together and how our world changes after "meeting you." We wanted to portray this feeling to [our fans], MIDZY, and also how we just shine by comparing it to gold.

Chaeryeong: We really want to show very different sides of ourselves. I want to show that ITZY is a team that can pull off and express all kinds of feelings.

In the past, I used to approach things with the mindset of "Let's do well with what we've prepared," but now, depending on the stage, I do what I've prepared, while also expressing what I feel at the moment. Personally, I feel more connected to "Imaginary Friend."

The contrast between "GOLD" and "Imaginary Friend" is striking. What song proved to be the most difficult to record yet left you feeling the proudest? And what aspects of the experience made it so demanding?

Yeji: I'd say it was "Imaginary Friend," and I was a bit worried [initially]. We've never sung a song that feels this dreamy and fantastical before, so the vibe of the track itself felt like a challenge for us. But as we went through it, I realized it wasn't that we couldn't do it — it was just that we hadn't tried it yet. It became a recording session where I rediscovered the members' voices and talents.

Ryujin: I think "GOLD" was a little bit more difficult because we had to show that [atmosphere] that we hear from the original [demo]. I felt that the song was wild yet youthful, lively but still weighty, so I prepared for recording by analyzing even more the pronunciation, trying to figure out which parts gave me that feeling.

With a song called "Bad Girls R Us" listeners might expect a heavy-hitting instrumental, but instead, we encounter an elegant, dynamic composition. What were your initial impressions of this composition, and how is ITZY redefining or expanding the concept of a "Bad Girl" by blending this tempered sound with a bold title?

Lia: It’s one of the tracks that I listen to the most from this album even before its release. Once you put on your speakers or your earphones and listen to it, you feel very bad but powerful. [Laughs]. Listeners can also get into that character, and I also thought it'd be a fun song to perform in a concert maybe in the future.

Ryujin: I love a song with minimal sounds, and "Bad Girls R Us," is a good example, so it's my favorite song [from this album]. I put a lot of effort into making this song more charming, and I love the results. The "bad girl" in this song is more about a cool vibe.

"Supernatural" is made of beautiful and ethereal melodies, and it feels like a journey through the sky. What emotions surfaced for you inside the studio? Or what personal experiences inspired your creative expression in this song?

Chaeryeong: I wanted to portray that I’m an angel. [Laughs]. I thought it would sound even more beautiful if we blended in more breath, giving it a mystical and nostalgic vibe. It was fascinating to receive such an ethereal and emotional song, and I loved it as soon as I heard it!

In "FIVE," how does the song's message resonate with where you are now as a group? Is there a particular lyric that holds special meaning for you and that you'd like listeners to pay close attention to?

Yeji: I feel like this song captures the fact that ITZY shines the brightest when there are five of us. We weren’t perfect from the beginning, but as time passed, we laughed, cried, and grew together, making the number five even more meaningful.

Ryujin: Since the lyrics carry the meaning that the five of us are the most perfect together, I think MIDZY, who’s been waiting for our full group comeback, will relate to it the most. The line "But nothing is better than five" seems to best capture the message of the song.

"VAY" stands out for its collaboration with Changbin from Stray Kids, who's known for his intense rapping style. How would you describe your dynamic with him during the recording process?

Lia: It was a very comfortable and nice experience. [Changbin] knows our voice and singing, so it was more convenient for him to direct us throughout the session, for example, when dividing parts or whatever expressions we had to use — it was much easier working with someone who understands us.

I remember him telling me to have more confidence because, at the start, I was worried if I could express the right emotions. He was very nice in complimenting us; he told us, "You guys are already good at it."

Lia, from all the songs the group re-recorded from Born To Be, which one were you the most excited to work on and why?

Lia: It's hard to pick one, because the previous album also had different sides of songs, and they were all very nice. One of my favorite songs was "Escalator" because when I was at the concert, I thought it was really cool and amazing. It’s just a sophisticated song in a style that I like.

Finally, could you delve into one personal objective you hope to accomplish during this era?

Yuna: The choreography of "GOLD" is very powerful, so while having our performances, I want us to do it very safely and well. I plan to consistently stretch and get treatments with my physician.

Yeji: Adding to Yuna's answer, I want to show ITZY, more clearly as a team, to a much larger audience. And to MIDZY, I want to say thank you so much for waiting for us. We will have a great time during this [promotional cycle].

[ferelbasta]

Hopefully back for good

Hey everyone, you might not recognize me but it's actually @bigbluebeast talking here. I wanted to start anew here since I've been so so inactive over on my old main account, plus alot about me has changed so I feel a new account is necessary.

As seen by my username I go by FerelBasta now, I still have the name That Blue Otter here since they're one of my sonas/selves, my otter self ( Beast) and my Daeodon self ( Ferel ), there is a third self but thats more personal. I also now identify as non-binary and asexual and go by they/them and he/him, just these make me feel alot better in my own skin. I've also have been searching within regarding my religious beliefs, but I won't get into too much of that until I decide to talk more on it, basically alot about myself has changed regarding how I was on this website may years ago...

I want to apologize first off to being so inactive... everywhere really. My personal life has not been the best due to certain things going on that really prevented me from sitting down and just getting some art done how I used to do back then, mainly starting in 2016... I've been over this countless times it feels but a rather drastic event happened over on twitter that caused my derailing from creating any artwork, I became very nervous and scared to really post much of anything thanks to what happened and looking back all these years nothing has changed. My depression and the events had caused me to shy away from creating and just watch from afar, I knew I was always bad with starting and then just stopping, but things were taken to a new extreme now. The past four years especially didn't help anything regarding my healing due to finding a job where I was harassed and then... something awful happening between me and a family member near the end of 2020, which did lead to my discovery of me being non-binary but.. I still wish things went better... I ended up finding a different job in the middle of 2019 but ever since the pandemic hit I wasn't able to function at that job anymore.. plus even more harassment from co-workers doesn't help either. Though despite all this.. it soon seemed like something was going to change.

Near the end of February of 2021 I was talking with a good friend of mine over the phone, she and I have known eachother ever since we met on twitter in 2016, and in 2019 we started to talk again after two years of silence from both ends. I remember it was that very evening she admitted she felt in love with me.. and honestly I felt the very same way with her <3 I had started to feel some sort of adoration for her after we started talking on the phone, just hearing her voice and bonding with her made me feel things I never really felt before, sure I had puppy love crushes on some friends before but that was because I'm a rather cuddly and affectionate person to begin with, but this time? hearing she felt the same way just set things in stone.. I had found love. She then came to visit in March of that same year and we've been inseparable ever since, yes we do have our moments but what couple doesn't have them? We've been growing stronger and closer as time went on and I feel thanks to her I felt like life was worth living.. like there are things to look forward to and do.. just having someone like her with me makes me feel so happy and thankful to be alive.

I believe in late 2021 I returned here with a new blog relating to help myself cope with things going on in my life and just with life in general, but due to certain things happening I have again fell off the horse for maintaining said blog. I won't get into too much because it's very personal but I'll just say that I was struggling with where I stood regarding certain things around it. I have since settled and stood my ground on where I am with it all and I'm feeling alot better about it, the same could also be said about my religious beliefs, I grew up christian but I never ever identified with being one due to... well... more personal things but I recently discovered a religion that I felt like I belonged in, Kemeticism. I'll save most of the info for its own post but to just make it brief, I have always loved the culture and history of ancient Egypt ever since I was a very young kid, and I had a awakening of some sorts after coming to terms when a game I play had a Egyptian themed event going on, now it really feels like I found where I truly belong...

We now come to when I'm writing this entry, the start of my new dA account and some tumblr as well! I just last night fixed what was going on with my tablet because it wasn't working properly which prevented me from making any new art, that and I lot access to photoshop CS5 due to my laptop needing to be updated and... the program was outdated for the OS... ofc... BUT! I still have Clip Studio Paint so until I get another art program to do the coloring and touch ups in, thats what I will be working with. I will also be posting my traditional sketches here and tumblr just so I have stuff to offer to everyone, this will be a rough journey of relearning how to not be afraid and just get to making things that make me happy, but it seems like I'm on the right path

Thats all I have to say for now, but until next time, I hope to see everyone again soon,

Thank you for reading <3

[cooledtured]

Why Pokemon But Not Digimon?

The 2000s were the beginning of the West being introduced to anime. We ended up getting many of the big names that still are talked about today such as Dragon Ball, Yu-Gi-Oh and Pokemon. However, one series that isn’t talked about nearly as much that was also introduced around this time is Digimon. Sure there’s still fans of the series around, however, it’s nowhere near as popular here as the others. This is especially strange considering that Pokemon, a series similar to Digimon, is even more popular than ever here.

Pokemon and Digimon share a few things in common. They’re both serieses about kids using monsters to fight other monsters with power to evolve said monsters to make them stronger. However, once you delve a bit deeper you realize that these two shows couldn’t be more different. For one thing Pokemon is centered around a more creature capture aspect to it with characters usually having more than one partner at a time. Digimon on the other hand - aside from one season - focuses more on the bonds between pairs and thus characters will only ever have one partner. Then there’s the fact that characters in Pokemon are usually only fighting other trainers while in Digimon it’s wild Digimon they’re fighting.

Even with these differences though, it still doesn’t explain the difference in popularity. That’s why I believe it boils down to two factors. The first is the fact that Pokemon was more ‘relatable’. In Digimon these kids weren’t your ordinary kids; they were the Digidestined. These kids were the chosen ones who were said to be the ones to save the Digital World from danger. Ash Ketchum, however, isn't some chosen one, he’s just your ordinary kid. Sure he’s done some pretty incredible things, but technically speaking any kid in that world would be capable of doing the same. In other words, any kid watching at home could step into that world be as good of or even better of a pokemon trainer than Ash was without needing to be some chosen one. This ability to basically place yourself in that world so easily was just one of Pokemon’s appeals.

What really helped Pokemon and hurt Digimon though were their games. If you ask any Pokemon or Digimon fan what the best game in their respective series is, they’ll always have different answers. In the case of Pokemon the reason is because there have been so many great games it’s hard to narrow it down to just one. Digimon fans struggle though because of how different the quality of their games are. While there are good Digimon games, there aren’t a lot that have created as big of an impact as Pokemon. As a result fans of the franchise have at times felt burned because of them. And if old fans feel this way, how does the franchise have any chance of gaining new fans?

In terms of show quality I’d say that Digimon is just as good and has even surpassed Pokemon at times. But that’s unfortunately not enough to build up a franchise. While relatability was definitely part of it, I truly feel that had the games been better Digimon could be just as popular in the West. However, it’s instead a series that’s gotten to the point where people aren’t even aware that a new season came out.

Logan Floyd-Mcgee | Writer POP-COOLEDTURED SPECIALIST cooledtured.com |  GROW YOUR COLLECTION

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Dream Eater - Chapter 17 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

I wake up from a dream and I smile.

It was a good dream, though I can't remember the details.

It had something to do with Dante and a cake and maybe a dog.

It doesn't matter because it didn't mean anything and it was all mine.

I roll over and press myself closer to Damien's back, wrapping my arms around his waist and giving him a light squeeze.

Early morning light spills in through the bedroom windows and the comforting sounds of the city drift up from the streets below.

We're home, in our apartment, on Earth.

After Astoreth healed me, I came to lying in the snow, stretched full-length with Damien at my side and my hand clasped in his.

Dante knelt beside us crying like we'd broken their heart.

Which, I learned, we momentarily had.

When they found us by the stone arch, Door closed and Astoreth gone, they'd thought we were dead.

It seemed like we were, too.

Then I woke up and a moment later, Damien did as well.

I hadn't felt any different, as far as I could tell and Damien said he didn't either.

Except that when he tried to use demonic power, nothing happened.

I was terrified he'd resent me for it, eventually, for choosing a human soul but if anything, he seemed overjoyed.

"You don't miss it?" I'd asked.

"Being able to summon fiery swords and pop between realities whenever you please?"

He grinned.

"Not at all. Do you miss having to eat people's dreams?"

I shook my head.

"No but that was never cool to begin with."

Somehow, though I don't remember hearing her speak, Astoreth had told me that the three natures of my soul were now one.

Each part had joined to create a single whole but while I was no longer a dream-eater and I'd never been much of a Celestial, I was still a Key and always would be and now Damien's soul was inextricably linked to mine.

Astoreth said that we would always seek one another, drawn by a force stronger than magnetism or gravity and that we were each now a part of a greater whole.

"What if I'm reborn as like, a toad or an eel or something?" I wondered and Damien had laughed.

"Then I hope I'm a toad or an eel too."

Dante offered to make us both sex-demons and told us we'd be able to feed off one another for all eternity but of course, we'd have to die first and we've both had enough of that for the moment.

We kept their offer as a distant backup option, just in case.

For now, we're happy to live and love as mere mortals and to savor each beautiful, precious, fragile moment as it comes and goes.

As for Dante, they decided to remain in Carnâk for now.

They said they were still having fun there and enjoying the artistic adoration.

Also, they'd bonded with Oran on the battlefield and the relationship had bloomed.

Apparently, seeing Dante in full battle-mode was like watching a violent ballet and Oran had been hooked.

I was sorry I hadn't gotten to see it.

Sometimes, when I just want see them, I wish Dante wasn't currently living in another dimension but Oran brings them to visit often enough that I hardly have time to miss them and Damien keeps me busy in more ways than one.

I hug him to me now and wonder at the strange machinations of fate.

Not that long ago I wanted nothing more than to get away from him and never look back.

Now I literally wouldn't be complete without him.

He wakes up and rolls over to face me, his features lit with a now, familiar look of wonder and delight.

It's the same look he has every morning when he wakes up next to me, like he can't quite believe his eyes.

"Good morning, beautiful boy," he says, kissing me lightly.

"I don't think you can call someone born a hundred years ago a boy," I say, smiling.

"Your passport says you're twenty-one," he replies.

"Barely old enough to drink."

It's amazing what money can buy these days.

Damien has us both fixed up with all the documents we need to live legit and above-board.

"That didn't stop you from getting me drunk last night," I say.

It didn't quite leave me with a hangover but it was enough that I don't remember exactly what happened, except that at some point I was up against a wall and then on the floor and then... I blush as memory returns and he grins.

"Thinking of something good?" he asks.

"You wish," I retort but blush harder when he slides a hand beneath the sheets and finds me hard.

"I do love mornings..."

At this point, he hardly needs Dante.

He's becoming a sex-demon all on his own.

Speaking of Dante, that night we celebrate the opening of Damien's latest architectural triumph... a gallery dedicated to their work.

I do my best to hide in the shadows and not draw attention to the fact that I'm featured in many of the examples on display.

Dante and Oran are here for the event and Dante finds me before long.

"Still happy, little bird?" they ask and I smile.

"Yes. I'm still happy."

"That was a ballsy choice you made. I don't know if I could've done it. Not after everything I've seen."

"That's why I made it," I say.

"I've seen a lot, some through my own eyes but mostly through other people's dreams. I know what grief and sorrow and loss and hate and fear look like. One thing I didn't see a lot of was happiness. But I saw it in those months I was living here with Damien, before Azael found us again. That's what I wanted more of, a happiness that's not just mine but his too."

"Well, I hope you enjoy it for a long time," they say.

"But when you get tired, just say so and we can be demons together again... all three of us."

I squint at them and they hold up their hands.

"Not like that... I just mean in general."

"Maybe someday, Dante," I laugh.

"Or maybe not. Maybe we'll just grow old together and die and see what comes next."

Dante makes a face.

"Listen up, little bird... you make me cry again and I'll fucking kill you myself and then I'll bring you back as my own personal demon and keep you in a gilded cage for the rest of eternity, safe and sound where I can see you and paint you whenever I want. Of course, I'll have to bring Damien too..."

It seems like they've given this a little too much thought already, so I distract them by asking about Oran.

Apparently, he has amazing stamina, both in bed and on the battlefield, which for Dante is sometimes the same thing.

I let my mind wander when the details get to be a bit too much and before I know it the evening is over and we're saying goodbye once again.

After an overly drawn-out farewell, Dante and Oran are gone.

The world seems a little more empty without them and I hope they get tired of Carnâk and come home to stay soon.

Later, Damien and I return to our apartment.

I feel deliciously tired... not exhausted, not drained of energy and needing someone else's nightmares to keep me alive... just pleasantly weary and ready for sleep.

Damien has other ideas.

"I have something for you," he says, walking me back until my legs hit the edge of the bed and I fall over.

"You've already given me that three times today," I say, though I'm not really complaining.

"Not like this," he says.

"Close your eyes and don't freak out."

"Uh..." I frown but do as he asks.

I feel him take my wrists in his hands and then something soft closes around them with a click.

I open my eyes and see that he's chained me to the bed with a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs.

"If you don't want to, I'll take them off," he says quickly, looking nervous.

I tug at them experimentally and frown.

"You realize the last time you had these on me I thought you were gonna kill me, right?"

"These aren't the same ones. I bought these myself."

'Oh, great. What a relief.' I roll my eyes.

"At least tell me you bought them online, where no one could see your face."

He doesn't answer and he still looks really nervous and I give in.

"All right... have your way with me then."

The slow grin that breaks over his face makes me shiver.

"Oh, I intend to. That night, when I put those cuffs on you, I really was just afraid you were going to hurt yourself if you got up too fast. But when I looked back on that memory it became an obsession and I've been dreaming of it ever since."

"I never saw that in your dreams," I scoff.

He gives me a crooked smile.

"It's not a nightmare. Sometimes I'm not even asleep."

"You're a demon," I say, laughing.

Maybe Dante will be getting their wish sooner than they think, after all.

~The End~

[enchantedquill-40]

In the dimly lit CSI lab, Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders exchanged glances, their secret romance concealed behind professional facades. Greg couldn't shake the desire to shout their love from the rooftops, but the risk of judgment kept him silent.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the Vegas skyline, Greg hesitated no more. He approached Nick, eyes sparkling with determination. "Nick, we've been hiding for too long. I want the world to know about us."

Nick looked both surprised and intrigued. "Greg, you know how this job is. It's not easy."

Greg nodded, his heart pounding. "I get it, but we can't keep pretending. Let's be open about our relationship."

Nick hesitated, then sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But we need to find the right moment."

Their opportunity came during a rare team gathering at the local bar. Surrounded by colleagues, Nick and Greg shared covert glances. Greg finally mustered the courage to announce, "Hey, everyone, I've got some news."

The team's attention turned toward Greg, curiosity evident in their eyes. Nick gripped Greg's hand under the table, offering silent support.

"I've been keeping a secret," Greg continued, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Nick and I are dating."

Gasps and surprised murmurs filled the air as colleagues exchanged astonished glances. Nick and Greg's eyes locked, a mix of nervousness and excitement passing between them.

Catherine Willows was the first to react, breaking into a grin. "Well, it's about time! You two make a cute couple."

As the initial shock wore off, the team rallied around them, expressing support and good wishes. Sara Sidle raised her glass, proposing a toast to the newfound openness in Nick and Greg's relationship.

Amid the laughter and clinking glasses, Greg couldn't help but feel a weight lifted off his shoulders. The revelation brought the couple closer to their colleagues, creating an atmosphere of acceptance within the tight-knit CSI family.

Over the next few weeks, Nick and Greg faced some challenges, but the bond between them only grew stronger. They navigated the dynamics of being a couple in a professional setting with resilience and grace.

One day, as they processed evidence side by side, Nick whispered, "I'm glad we decided to be open, Greg. It feels right."

Greg smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Me too, Nick. No more secrets."

Their journey continued, but this time, hand in hand, facing whatever challenges lay ahead with the unwavering support of each other and the CSI team that had become their extended family. As Nick and Greg settled into the comfort of their home, the atmosphere remained light from the positive response they'd received. However, Greg's chatty nature seemed to be on overdrive.

"Nick, you won't believe what happened today at the lab," Greg began, pacing around the living room. "I found this trace that led to an unexpected breakthrough in the case we've been working on. I mean, it's fascinating how these tiny details can..."

Nick chuckled, interrupting Greg's excited monologue. "Hey, slow down, Greg. I love hearing about your day, but you're talking a mile a minute. Take a breath."

Greg paused, realizing he had let his enthusiasm run wild. "Sorry, got a bit carried away. But it's just so cool, you know?"

Nick smiled, appreciating Greg's passion. "I know, and I love that about you. Let's just take it easy tonight, alright?"

As they settled on the couch, Greg cuddled up to Nick, but his mind was still buzzing with ideas. "Hey, have you ever thought about going to a nude resort?"

Nick raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "A nude resort? Where did that come from?"

Greg grinned mischievously. "Well, we've opened up about our relationship, and I was thinking about other ways we could explore our newfound freedom. Imagine the thrill, the liberation of being completely naked and carefree."

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "Greg, slow down. We just shared our relationship with the team, and now you want to jump straight to nudity resorts?"

Greg pouted playfully. "Come on, Nick! It could be an adventure. Plus, it's the ultimate way of embracing who we are, both as individuals and as a couple."

Nick couldn't help but laugh at Greg's eagerness. "You're something else, you know that? But maybe we should take it one step at a time."

Undeterred, Greg continued, "Or we could start with a clothing-optional beach. Dip our toes in the water, so to speak."

Nick smirked, enjoying the banter. "You really have a wild side, Greg. But seriously, let's just enjoy being 'out' for now. No need to rush into anything too risqué."

Greg feigned disappointment but quickly shifted gears. "Fine, fine. We can take it slow. But promise me we'll consider it someday?"

Nick chuckled. "I promise, Greg. We'll explore new adventures together, but at a pace that won't give us whiplash."

As the evening continued, Nick and Greg found a comfortable balance between sharing their experiences and enjoying the newfound openness in their relationship. The idea of nude resorts and clothing-optional beaches might have been a bit too bold for the moment, but the prospect of exploring life's adventures together brought a sense of excitement and anticipation to their journey as a couple. As Nick and Greg settled into the comfort of their home, the atmosphere remained light from the positive response they'd received. However, Greg's chatty nature seemed to be on overdrive.

"Nick, you won't believe what happened today at the lab," Greg began, pacing around the living room. "I found this trace that led to an unexpected breakthrough in the case we've been working on. I mean, it's fascinating how these tiny details can..."

Nick chuckled, interrupting Greg's excited monologue. "Hey, slow down, Greg. I love hearing about your day, but you're talking a mile a minute. Take a breath."

Greg paused, realizing he had let his enthusiasm run wild. "Sorry, got a bit carried away. But it's just so cool, you know?"

Nick smiled, appreciating Greg's passion. "I know, and I love that about you. Let's just take it easy tonight, alright?"

As they settled on the couch, Greg cuddled up to Nick, but his mind was still buzzing with ideas. "Hey, have you ever thought about going to a nude resort?"

Nick raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "A nude resort? Where did that come from?"

Greg grinned mischievously. "Well, we've opened up about our relationship, and I was thinking about other ways we could explore our newfound freedom. Imagine the thrill, the liberation of being completely naked and carefree."

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "Greg, slow down. We just shared our relationship with the team, and now you want to jump straight to nudity resorts?"

Greg pouted playfully. "Come on, Nick! It could be an adventure. Plus, it's the ultimate way of embracing who we are, both as individuals and as a couple."

Nick couldn't help but laugh at Greg's eagerness. "You're something else, you know that? But maybe we should take it one step at a time."

Undeterred, Greg continued, "Or we could start with a clothing-optional beach. Dip our toes in the water, so to speak."

Nick smirked, enjoying the banter. "You really have a wild side, Greg. But seriously, let's just enjoy being 'out' for now. No need to rush into anything too risqué."

Greg feigned disappointment but quickly shifted gears. "Fine, fine. We can take it slow. But promise me we'll consider it someday?"

Nick chuckled. "I promise, Greg. We'll explore new adventures together, but at a pace that won't give us whiplash."

As the evening continued, Nick and Greg found a comfortable balance between sharing their experiences and enjoying the newfound openness in their relationship. The idea of nude resorts and clothing-optional beaches might have been a bit too bold for the moment, but the prospect of exploring life's adventures together brought a sense of excitement and anticipation to their journey as a couple. The following day at the CSI lab, Nick found himself working alongside Sara Sidle and Catherine Willows on a complex case. As they meticulously examined evidence, Catherine couldn't resist steering the conversation toward the recent revelation about Nick and Greg's relationship.

"So, Nick," Catherine began casually, a glint of mischief in her eyes, "I heard Greg's been quite the talker lately, especially when it comes to the topic of nudity."

Nick raised an eyebrow, shooting a quizzical look at Catherine. "Nudity? What are you talking about?"

Sara chimed in with a knowing smile, "Oh, come on, Nick. We know about you and Greg being a couple. It's been the talk of the lab."

Nick sighed, realizing that their secret wasn't as concealed as he thought. "Alright, yeah, Greg's been a bit... enthusiastic lately. What's the buzz about nudity, though?"

Catherine leaned in, her tone playful. "Greg has this grand idea of exploring the world of clothing-optional beaches and nude resorts. He's practically planning a nudist revolution."

Sara chuckled, adding, "Yeah, he mentioned it when we were processing evidence yesterday. It's like he's on a mission to liberate everyone from their clothes."

Nick couldn't help but laugh, picturing Greg's animated expressions as he discussed his unconventional aspirations. "Well, Greg does have a knack for embracing the unexpected. But I'm not sure about this whole nudist revolution thing."

Catherine grinned, teasingly, "Come on, Nick, where's your sense of adventure? You and Greg make such a cute couple. Why not explore new horizons together?"

Sara nodded in agreement. "It's not every day you find someone willing to push boundaries with you. Besides, it's all in good fun."

Nick scratched his head, still processing the unexpected turn in the conversation. "I appreciate the support, but I think Greg might be getting ahead of himself. We just opened up about our relationship, and now he's talking about nudist adventures."

Catherine leaned back, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "Have you considered indulging a little? Maybe not the nudist revolution, but a step towards something new could be exciting."

Nick sighed, contemplating the suggestion. "I don't know, Catherine. We're still navigating this whole 'out' thing. Maybe we'll find our way, but I'm not sure about diving headfirst into a world of nudity."

Sara chimed in with a thoughtful expression, "Fair enough. Relationships are about finding your own pace. Just make sure Greg knows where you stand on this."

Later that day, as Nick and Greg processed evidence together, Nick decided to broach the subject delicately. "Greg, we need to talk about this nudist revolution you're planning."

Greg grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, come on, Nick! It's all in good fun. Imagine the stories we could tell!"

Nick chuckled, trying to keep the conversation grounded. "I get that you're excited, but we just came out to the team. Let's take it one step at a time, alright?"

Greg pouted playfully. "But Nick, life's too short to be stuck in our comfort zones. I just want us to experience everything together."

Nick placed a reassuring hand on Greg's shoulder. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I'm not saying no forever. Let's just enjoy being 'out' for now and explore new things at our own pace."

Greg sighed, realizing Nick had a point. "Alright, Nick. I guess I got carried away. We'll take it slow, but promise me we'll consider it someday?"

Nick smirked, echoing his words from the night before. "I promise, Greg. We'll explore new adventures together, but at a pace that won't give us whiplash."

As they continued processing evidence, the playful banter between Nick and Greg resumed, the prospect of nudist revolutions momentarily put on hold in favor of the more immediate challenges of their complex cases and the evolving dynamics of their newly public relationship. The next day, as the sun dipped below the Vegas skyline, Nick returned home after a long day at the CSI lab, looking forward to a quiet evening with Greg. However, as he opened the door, he was met with an unexpected sight. Greg, completely in the nude, was casually lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book.

Nick blinked, momentarily frozen in surprise. "Greg, what are you doing? It's your day off."

Greg looked up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, hey, Nick. I thought I'd take full advantage of my day off and embrace the freedom of nudity. You should try it!"

Nick couldn't help but laugh at Greg's carefree demeanor. "You're really taking this nudity thing seriously, huh?"

Greg shrugged, grinning. "Why not? Life's too short to be bound by clothes. Besides, it feels liberating."

Nick shook his head, still amused by the unexpected turn of events. "You never cease to surprise me, Greg. But maybe put some clothes on? I wasn't expecting a nudist homecoming."

Greg chuckled, reaching for a nearby blanket. "Alright, alright. I guess I got carried away. But it's surprisingly comfortable."

Nick smirked, "Comfortable, huh? I'll take your word for it. Just, maybe tone it down a bit when I walk in the door next time."

As Greg wrapped himself in the blanket, Nick settled beside him on the couch. "So, are we going to discuss nudist revolutions again, or is this just a spontaneous moment?"

Greg grinned, "Nah, just felt like trying something different today. But hey, I did find this clothing-optional beach not too far from here. What do you think?"

Nick raised an eyebrow, "Seriously? Are you planning our next adventure already?"

Greg laughed, "Come on, Nick, live a little! Imagine the thrill of feeling the sand between your toes without any pesky swim trunks."

Nick sighed, shaking his head in amusement. "You really are relentless, aren't you? But hey, we'll see. No promises."

As they continued to chat, Greg's playful spirit and carefree attitude managed to ease the tension from Nick's shoulders. Despite the initial surprise, Nick found himself appreciating Greg's ability to infuse excitement and spontaneity into their relationship.

The following weeks brought a new dynamic to Nick and Greg's life. While they didn't embark on any nudist revolutions or clothing-optional beach escapades just yet, the openness and honesty in their relationship allowed them to navigate the challenges together. The CSI lab became a place where their colleagues, initially surprised, gradually accepted and celebrated their love.

One day, as Nick and Greg worked on a particularly demanding case, Greg grinned mischievously. "Hey, Nick, imagine solving a case in the buff. Talk about breaking the mold of traditional crime-solving."

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "You and your wild ideas, Greg. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Our unconventional journey makes life interesting."

As the months passed, Nick and Greg continued to find joy in their shared adventures, both within the CSI lab and in the quiet moments at home. The initial hesitation about opening up to their colleagues had transformed into a deeper connection, strengthening their bond as a couple.

And so, whether it was facing the complexities of a crime scene or embracing the spontaneity of a nudist day at home, Nick and Greg navigated the unpredictable journey of life together, their love story unfolding with every unexpected twist and turn. One evening, as the soft glow of sunset painted hues across the Vegas sky, Nick and Greg found themselves in the quiet sanctuary of their home. The day's investigations had taken its toll, and the two sought solace in the comfort of each other's presence.

Nick, sensing a need for connection, closed the distance between them, capturing Greg's lips in a deep and lingering kiss. The warmth of their embrace spoke volumes, an unspoken language that conveyed the depth of their emotions.

As they parted, Nick gazed into Greg's eyes, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I love you, Greg. It's kind of crazy how much I need you."

Greg, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of the moment, whispered softly, "I love you too, Nick. It's kind of crazy to know I need you."

The intimacy of their exchange filled the room, a silent affirmation of the bond they shared. In that moment, the weight of the day's challenges seemed to melt away, leaving only the profound connection that anchored them to each other.

Greg, always attuned to the nuances of their relationship, smiled playfully. "You know, Nick, I can tell when you need me. It's like a sixth sense."

Nick raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Greg's claim. "Oh, really? And how do you figure that out?"

Greg chuckled, "It's in the little things – the way you look at me, the subtle touches, the way your shoulders relax when we're together. I can read you like an open book."

Nick smirked, "Well, I guess I'm an open book for you. But what about you? How do I know when you need me?"

Greg's expression turned more earnest. "You just do, Nick. It's this connection we have. When I need you, you're there, and vice versa. It's like we're in sync, no matter what."

In the quiet of their shared space, Nick considered Greg's words. Their connection went beyond the professional camaraderie of the CSI lab; it was a profound understanding that transcended words.

Greg, ever the adventurous spirit, shifted the mood playfully. "You know, Nick, I can see why being nude is fun. It's all about shedding the layers, being vulnerable, and embracing who we truly are."

Nick raised an eyebrow, amused by Greg's segue into the topic. "Are we back to the nudist revolution?"

Greg grinned, "Maybe not a revolution, but there's something liberating about it. No barriers, no pretense – just authenticity."

Nick chuckled, "You're starting to convince me, Greg. But let's keep it between us for now. Our colleagues might not be ready for Nick and Greg: The Nudist Detectives."

Greg burst into laughter, the carefree sound filling the room. "Fair enough, Nick. Our secret nudist adventures can stay between us."

As the evening unfolded, Nick and Greg found solace in each other's company. The conversation shifted seamlessly from the lighthearted banter about nudist escapades to the more profound discussions about the intricacies of their connection.

In the quiet moments that followed, Greg leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against Nick's forehead. "Thanks for being my partner in crime, Nick. Whether it's solving cases or navigating the twists of life, I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else."

Nick smiled, wrapping his arms around Greg, appreciating the simplicity and depth of their love. In the intimacy of their home, they found sanctuary, a place where being vulnerable and embracing authenticity was not only accepted but celebrated.

As the night settled around them, Nick and Greg discovered that the journey of love was a tapestry woven with moments of tenderness, understanding, and the occasional nudist adventure – a unique and beautiful story that was uniquely theirs.

[haphira]

Miraculous Ladybug and the Valiant Annuler By: Haphira

37. Step 1 – Planning. - Talking of taking chat noir’s ring, the plan, and meeting up with teammates to tell them of the changes.  

When Marinette reached the door of the parlor, she knocked and stood back. In a few moments Master Fu opened the door and gestured for her to enter. Taking a familiar seat across from Master Fu, Marinette made herself comfortable as he brought out tea. It was starting to become a routine when Marinette came over. Taking a sip Marinette sighed in contentment, the tea was just how she liked it.  

“Marinette, I would like to discuss how to handle Chat Noir going forward.” Master Fu said. Looking over his cup at her, he suddenly looked as old as he was supposed to be.  

“Master...?”  

Master Fu sighed and set his cup down, “I told you before that I made a mistake in the Black Cat holder before? Well, after watching the most recent Akuma fights, I have an idea for a new holder of the Black Cat, but I must ask you, do you feel ready to take Carapace back?”  

Marinette thought about it, Nino had been quiet but supportive lately, texting her periodically and checking in to see if she was doing okay. She knew things were tense between Alya and Nino but that didn’t stop him from trying to be a good friend.  

“I think, he needs a make-over but, yes I would like him back on the team.” Marinette eventually stated. She was surprised at how comfortable she was with the decision.  

“And what of Rena Rouge?” Fu questioned; his expression soft but open. 

“No, I don’t feel comfortable having her back on the team, besides Sionnach has been doing a fantastic job!” Marinette explained, feeling confident in her thoughts.  

“But- what about Luka?” Marinette looked a bit sad and disappointed. Fu realized that she used his civilian name, so she was close with Luka. As he thought back over the fights he saw, he realized the good chemistry they had. Better than what was her and Adrien’s chemistry was, and he wasn’t sure how good that chemistry was anymore.  

“Marinette, you know how I always said that secret identities are important?” Fu asked. Looking very serious. 

“Yes, o-of course Master Fu! I’ve never told anyone!” Marinette drummed her fingers on the table looking nervous. She was worried that maybe she gave something away to someone and now must lose her miraculous? Or maybe someone put it together and now she can't be Ladybug anymore? Or maybe- 

“I think that way of doing things isn’t as helpful anymore.” Fu cut into her derailed thinking, shocking Marinette for a moment.  

“I-I don’t under-s-stand?”  

Master Fu sighed, “During my time with the miraculous it was important for it to stay hidden as much as possible. But it was also I different time back then.”  

“So you’re saying...?” 

“Yes, I believe it would be more beneficial for you and your teammates to share your identities and create stronger bonds. You don’t have to, but I think giving the option is a good thing.”  

“So what does this have to do with Luka?” Marinette asked, still a little confused, it was a relief to not have to hide from her teammates anymore, but it still didn’t make sense to her. 

“Simply, I wish to give the Black Cat to Luka. I believe you two would work well together and give each other support when you need it.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, “Oh! You mean-!” 

“Yes, it is time to replace Chat Noir.” Fu smiled gently. Marinette could help the relief that flowed through her. No more having to deal with his flirting and interruptions and confessions. She would get to work with someone who understood her and helped her out. Oh, the relief was brimming over to tears in her eyes.  

“Thank you, Master Fu, thank you!” Marinette cried. Wiping away tears and smiling widely at Fu. Master Fu smiled back just as brightly. 

“You’re welcome, Marinette, I think I have a plan in mind, but I wanted to hear your thoughts too.” Fu said, refilling their empty teacups. Marinette smiled and went into detail about an attack plan to get Chat Noir’s ring. They went back and forth for a while before a solid plan was made and it was time for Marinette to leave.  

After the meeting with Master Fu was done and Marinette was back in her room, she transformed into Ladybug and sent a message to Hachi, Sionnach and Dìonadair, to meet her in an hour at the place they trained at. She cautioned them to be careful not to be seen by anyone. She didn’t want Chat to get a whiff of something going on, it was better to be careful and safe.  

After collecting a few treats from the bakery after her parents had gone to bed, Marinette transformed once more and headed out. She was going to arrive early, but it gave her time to think about what she wanted to say and how to say it.  

After about 10 minutes, Hachi landed on the platform and gave a nod in greeting. Then shortly after Sionnach and Dìonadair landed at the same time.  

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” Ladybug started, gesturing to the rest to sit down.  

“What’s going on Bug?” Dìonadair asked, concern coloring his voice, “You usually don’t ask to meet so suddenly.”  

Ladybug nodded, “Yes normally I wouldn’t but there are some important things I need to go over with you all that couldn’t wait.” She had the attention of them, not wavering in the slightest, it felt good to have people listen and pay attention when she needed them to. 

“There is a Guardian of the Miraculous, he is the one to protect them and give out Miraculous in times of need. You will all meet him eventually; I think it's important that we are all on the same page, so if you have questions, you can always ask the Guardian, Master Fu, or myself.”  

“I remember you mentioning a Guardian once, in your um, spat? With Chat Noir.” Dìonadair said, looking thoughtful. “Is this Master Fu going to help us moving forward?” 

“Yes, he will provide power-ups, and other things related to the Miraculous.” Ladybug answered. The rest nodded and looked at Ladybug once more, knowing there was something they needed to talk about.  

“Master Fu has also given his permission for us to share identities.” Ladybug stated, Hachi looked vaguely surprised, with her eyebrows reaching up above her honeycomb mask. Sionnach frowned and Dìonadair looked thoughtful.  

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. But it might be more beneficial for us to share and create stronger bonds if we do. That is to say, we can’t share our identities with anyone outside this group. But we can create a support group for all of us, to lean on each other as people who gets what it is like to be a superhero and the stresses that come along with it.” Everyone was nodding along at this point. Dìonadair had one more question though. 

“Are you going to share your identity, and what about Chat Noir?”  

It was a fair question and one that made Ladybug smile. “Yes, I will share myself with you guys, and the last thing I wanted to talk about was Chat Noir.” She took a deep breath and situated herself to sit more comfortably.  

“The Guardian and I have made a plan to take back the Black Cat Miraculous.” Everyone was silent. “And we have a plan in mind of who to give the Cat Miraculous to, if he accepts.” Ladybug added.  

“Who?” Hachi asked, curious as to why Ladybug was giving so much information about this. 

“You, Dìonadair, if you accept, I have someone in mind for the Turtle Miraculous if you choose to accept the Black Cat.” Everyone turned and looked at Dìonadair, he was looking deep in thought.  

“This is more than just a swap around of Miraculous,” he said, Ladybug nodded in agreement to his unvoiced question. “I would become your new partner and holder of one of the Miraculous that Hawkmoth wants to get.” Ladybug nodded again, anxiety slightly creeping up, wondering if Luka was going to say no. 

“Then I accept, I would love to support you and be your partner, Bug.” Dìonadair said with a smile. Ladybug released a breath and smiled back. 

“Thank you, Dìonadair, when we get the Black Cat back we can talk in more detail about things.” Dìonadair nodded. 

“As for the plan, I’ll need your guys’ help, think you can do that?” ladybug asked, three sets of Yeses sounded back. Ladybug smiled and dived into telling them the plan to get Chat Noir’s ring.  

Chapter 38

[voppyit]

Why Knuckles’ Characterization in the Movie Works

In recent years, Knuckles has become a character whose sole defining trait has been his physical strength, and with characters like that it is common to have them become unintelligent comedic relief. This portrayal of Knuckles (I am specifically referring to the games, I haven’t read all of Archie so I can’t make a judgement on that) evolved over time as Knuckles’ role in the games became less and less vital. This is because the character had a duty to guard the Master Emerald on Angel Island, and any time he wasn’t on the island guarding the emerald, he needed an excuse to not be there, or fans would start asking questions.

As his appearances decreased in frequency (overall) and his relevance to the plot was minor at best, his old personality faded away until all that was left was the comedic moments, almost as if the creators were trying to justify still including Knuckles without seeming like a blatant plot device or completely irrelevant.

The second Sonic movie challenges this by going back to Knuckles’ roots and exploring what it is that makes him Knuckles. He’s the last of his kind, has been isolated for most of his childhood, and is dedicated to the Master Emerald. Standard Knuckles backstory, except the movie explores this further.

One thing I loved about SCU!Knuckles was his strong sense of loyalty and honor, and his intense belief in those concepts. His naivete coupled with his unwavering dedication to those morals causes him to believe that others would behave the same way: even if Eggman isn’t a good person, surely he wouldn’t leave behind Stone and be disloyal, right? But not everyone thinks like Knuckles does, and that’s something he has to learn.

His “stupidity” is not stupidity at all, rather naivete that comes from social isolation, faith in the morals his tribe instilled upon him, and culture shock. His intelligence is shown throughout the movie as he questions Robotnik’s actions that contradict Knuckles’ morals, and how he can emotionally connect with Sonic, someone who was still, at the point of their heart-to-heart on the beach, basically Knuckles’ enemy. He’s not a dumb character by any means, but when it’s a matter of brute force over intelligence, he’s of course going to pick force. He has the strength, why not use it? If he can punch his way through a problem, he doesn’t really need to think of any other solutions.

(Side note, I love the moment during the final battle where he “pretends” to be a hologram, it’s so clear that he is unused to using strategies like that in battle lmao but he tries anyway! Maybe punching his way to victory is his instinct, but he’s willing to go along with other strategies if they seem to be the better option.)

With Knuckles’ characterization fixed, the movie could have left it there and the fans would have been more than satisfied. He would leave with the Master Emerald at the end of the movie to carry out his duty of guarding it, and we would hopefully see him again in the future.

But instead, it solved the problem that the games had by doing something I don’t think anyone expected:

Knuckles isn’t guarding the Emerald alone.

By having Sonic and Tails join Knuckles in the responsibility, not only does it make the bond between the characters seem much stronger, not only does it mean that Knuckles will no longer be expected to be on his own unless he has a good reason to abandon his duties, but now Knuckles can be involved in any aspect of the future films and it wouldn’t seem uncharacteristic.

I love love LOVE this version of Knuckles so much and I can’t wait to see where the character goes from here.

(Also, I think it could be very interesting if the third movie has Knuckles and Shadow specifically clash due to Knuckles believing so strongly in loyalty, but seeing Shadow prepared to destroy the entire world out of “loyalty” to Maria, seeing a negative side of loyalty could create an interesting arc for Knuckles while ensuring that the two characters don’t seem like copies of each other, a concern other people have had)

[dipolardruid]

How would Betra react to reader wanting to sleep on the same bed because they got freaked out.

Lets say the reader had watched a horror movie alone and by the end of it was paranoid, so when they go to lay down there's a thunderstorm and a branch scratching against a window you know that typical cliche

TW: None

Every Friday night it was a night you and your father shared watching horror movies until you both fell asleep on the couch however earlier that day your father had taken a night shift for some extra cash which Betra has told him to just to ask her but your father can be as stubborn as a bull when he wants to be.

Perhaps he hoped that you'd invite Betra to watch movies with you since Friday and Saturday were her days off, despite that you'd go on to watch movies whether she chose to watch them with you or not.

So when you felt your eyes giving out you decided that it was time for you to head on to bed but right as you had got yourself comfortable the thunder hit so hard the house shook causing you be startled awake as the rain came pouring down.

Breathing in and out of your nose you decide to lay back down only to hear something scrapping against your bedroom window with the occasional clank which would keep your eyes open, the final straw being a thunder strike even louder and stronger than the last with hail now falling down.

"I can't believe I'm doing this" whispering to yourself you finally decide to stand up being as quick and quiet as you possibly can with your footsteps as you head to your fathers shared bedroom opening the door finding Betra still asleep.

You look around for any objects on the ground as to not accidentally kick something in hopes of sneaking your way onto the bed without her noticing and be gone before she wakes up or your dad arrives home from his shift.

As you make your way to opposite side of the bed to put as much space as you can between you and Betra you lift yourself up to bed with a small creak.

Feeling your body freeze you go to look over at Betra seeing her still asleep you quickly breath in relief before laying down and falling asleep pretty quickly.

Waking up you see the sun fully out causing you to realize that Betra is always up before the sun comes out making you look behind you seeing your sleeping dad but no Betra feeling heat rush to your cheeks you debate whether to even go outside or back to sleep and save yourself the embarrassment.

Needing to use the restroom though ultimately forces you to choose as you finally stand up as quietly as possible as to not wake up your father before making your way outside the room seeing Betra on the couch watching TV.

The sound of the room door opening causes her to look over and make eye contact with you but before she can say anything you quickly say the first thing on your mind "I was scared don't judge me." Betra gives a smile before responding "Good Morning to you too." After that you quickly run off to the restroom.

Throughout the day however you notice Betra seems to be in a happier mood talking more and even being more active around the place giving you gentle looks when you both make eye contact.

From this alone you're guessing that she feels like there is a chance at actually creating a bond since you actually went to her while in a moment of fear.

Request are open!

[linkspooky]

The Hands that Will Save the League

In chapter 321 we're reminded once again of the reoccurring motif of hands reaching out to save someone in need, especially with the double spread close-up of Iida's hands reaching for Deku's hands. I couldn't help but think how this could apply to the league of villains. Hand symbolism has always been associated with Shigaraki (duh), both in the fact that his hands destroy everything they touched, and also his reason for being a villain stems from the fact that not a single hand reached out to save him that day. However, we've also had another character in the league with hands drawn up close and personal reaching out to save the others: spinner.

1. Just an Empty Cosplayer

I'm not the first one to make this observation. @codenamesazanka pointed this out long before me, especially in regards to Spinner's importance to the league, but basically, Spinner's role is that despite being a teenage mutant ninja turtle he's also the everyman of the league. He's not connected to the main conflict of the story by bloodline or legacy, the way Shigaraki, Dabi, and Compress are. He's not someone with an incredibly powerful or deviant quirk like Twice or Toga. He is a victim, but he doesn't have the elaborate villain backstories of Twice, Shigaraki, Dabi, and Toga.

He literally is just some guy with a lizard quirk. He has the weakest quirk in the league and the weakest reason for why he joined the league. Spinner faces societal abuse because of his quirk, but what spurred him to action was seeing Stain appear on TV, and a desire to be a less empty person than he was before. Spinner was pushed, he was rejected by society, but I would say as an inverse to the league who are driven by extraordinary circumstances, Spinner is basically an every man who drives himself to keep up with the rest of the league despite seemingly lacking everything "special" they have.

And I believe this every man quality, and this drive Spinner has is what's going to be the key to piecing the league back together. It's because Spinner sees himself as so far behind the rest of the league, and so much less special than they are, that he's driven to try to understand them.

Not only is Spinner a member who has tried to understand every member of the league in one way or another, Spinner is also someone who similiar to Sihgaraki foils every single character in the league despite just being an everyman.

2. Spinner and Toga

While Spinner and Toga may not have the same level of development to their interactions as Twice and Toga, Spinner reaches out to her once but not twice, and there are a lot of parallels you can draw between the characters.

Both Spinner and Toga joined the league for the same reason, an empty admiration for Stain, without really caring about Stain's ideals. Toga admires Stain because he's covered in blood and fighting for something and she wants to become more like the people she admires, Spinner because he saw himself as pathetic for hiding in his room all day and when he saw Stain taking a stand trying to change the whole world on his own he wanted to become that way too. Which means both of them have a tendency to want to become more like the people they admire, because their own sense of personal identity is so weak.

Himiko and Spinner both define themselves by the way society has rejected them. Spinner has internalized the idea that he's an empty person who can't accomplish anything on his own, every terrible thing other people said about him due to his heteromorph quirk he accepted it. At the same time, Toga was somebody born with a "dangerous quirk" who was told to repress it and then did that living under a fake identity as a normal school girl that would please her parents and the people around her for as long as she could. Both Toga and Spinner are taught by the society around them to be self-loathing and to repress themselves because of their quirks. They're also characters who are both defined by a desire for release.

When Spinner asks if Toga still wants to be in the league because of Stain and she responds, Now I wanna become everyone I love. Spinner comments, "You're so free."

Spinner and Toga both claim they joined the league because of love for another person, they both loved and admired some aspect of Stain, but their real reason for joining, or at least the reason they stay is that deep down both of them desire the freedom to be themselves. Toga wrapping her desires up in language like love for other people, and wanting to become them, is because deep down she believes because of her quirk there's no one who would accept her for herself, as the normal girl she believes she is, no one will let her live as Toga thus she tries to become other people. It's the same for Spinner, who believes he can't be anything other than the Lizard Freak, so he too tries to dress himself up and become a Stain Cosplayer. It's only through the league's acceptance that Toga and Spinner slowly begin to learn that they are good enough on their own, just as themselves, and their priorities begin to shift.

3. Spinner and Twice

Twice and Spinner have several backstory parallels already. They are both characters affected by poverty, Spinner lived in a backwater town plagued by old views of heteromorph quirks, Twice lost his parents and began working to support himself at a young age before becoming homeless. Spinner and Twice were also both labeled in a way that stuck with them, after Twice got a criminal charge in an accident on his permanent record he couldn't find another job after being labeled deviant. Spinner was labeled as a deviant because of his quirk and the idea that he's a lizard freak has always stuck with him the same way that Twice has internalized the idea that "bad people don't get saved."

They also both chose to isolate themselves because of the circumstances they faced. Twice's first response to homelessness was to decide to never trust anybody but himself, and he became a criminal who pulled off heists with only clones of himself as team members until that stopped working for him. Spinner's response was also to shut himself away in his room and become a NEET. They both cut themselves off to the society that labeled them as unacceptable, but in the process they also cut themselves off from other people and became unable to trust others.

While they have major backstory parallels, I believe the greatest parallel between them is going to be that Spinner will inherit that role that Twice had for the league. While Shigaraki is the leader, Twice more than anybody else believed the League to be a family, and encouraged everyone to be friendly with one another.

It's Twice more than anyone else who emphasizes the bond of the league, that they're all strays, that they need to take care of each other and save each other. It's Twice who urges Shigaraki to save Giran because he's one of them. He makes the unspoken bond of the league as a group of miscreants into a spoken one, because Twice wants those things, he's well aware of the fact that he wants trust and acceptance and came to the league to find those things. This is the greatest thing that ties Spinner and Twice's characters together, because they both view themselves as worthless, they define themselves by how they help the other members of the league.

Twice's death so far isn't something that has been really capitalized on by the plot, Hawks has yet to face consequences, we haven't gotten to see much of the league's reaction because they were scattered soon afterwards. However, if Twice's death is going to cause development eventually I believe it will be in the vacuum in the league created now that Twice is gone. There is no longer someone who is urging all of them to be together. Twice's death causes most of the league to become less stable. Toga goes on a killing spree, Dabi attacks Hawks, Compress tries to kill himself in a heroic sacrifice, Shigaraki hasn't gotten the chance to react yet but he's also gotten worse considering he's currently possessed. You could even say that Twice's death has caused other characters to double down on their worst habits.

Dabi's worst habit is that he acts separately from the league and refuses to participate in the group dynamic, believing himself to be a solo avenger. Dabi not trusting or telling the league what he was planning on doing with Hawks, as a consequence of his decision to play solo avenger, caused Twice to trust Hawks which led to his death. Hawks was the one who killed him but Dabi played a part, and when Twice dies Dabi obviously reacts to it, but also his decision is to double down on his bad habit, insisting he's only using the league and he doesn't care about the rest of the group. Toga also doubles down on her bad habit, she runs away from the rest of the league and insists she's only doing this for the freedom to do whatever she pleases, not because you know Twice got killed right in front of her. Compress's arc is less pronounced, but he also does, in fact, try to kill himself in a grand heroic sacrifice for the rest of the league.

When twice dies the league begins to fall apart and everyone acts on their individual worst flaws, ignoring that they were always stronger together as a group. However, there is still one person who wanted the exact same thing Twice did, to be trusted, to belong to a group. This is most likely the role that Spinner is going to grow to, someone who is trusted by everyone in the group.

Notably, when Toga is about to run away it's Spinner who reminds her that the league is a place for them to come back to. Toga who was probably the closest to Twice and spiraling the worst because of his death, and Toga and Twice's friendship was the first time we really saw how much of a "bond" the league had formed with one another, because in the camp arc they barely cooperated, only begrudgingly. It's Spinner who who emphasizes that even though everyone in the league is doing this for individualism "doing what they want" that they are also together as a group. Spinner is set to inherit Twice's role as the heart, because one he tries to understand other people in the league making the effort to reach out, and two Spinner is aware of what he wants just like Twice he wants to be trusted by the rest of the group.

4. Spinner and Dabi

This one is a little bit harder because Dabi's character arc really hasn't started yet. We have just now gotten to the reveal of who he is and what his motivations are, after it being a mystery for so long. However unlike the rest of the league, we haven't really seen how Dabi has reacted and changed by becoming a part of the group. Even if his motivation isn't "I'm only using them" and deep down he really does care, I don't think he's even realized yet that he does care or that he's not just using them. Dabi still believes himself to be alone, and therefore he's still isolated from the rest of the league and flying his revenge quest solo even though he's really not.

In that case, the biggest parallel between Spinner and Dabi is that they both had to be won over by the league. They both joined because of admiration for Stain, probably because Dabi genuinely believed in Stain's ideals of taking down impure heroes because it fit his own agenda so well, whereas Spinner is a self-proclaimed empty cosplayer.

Spinner, however, has already gone through an arc where he was dissatisfied with his reasons for joining the league and didn't believe he belonged with the rest of the group. He didn't have anything to love like Toga. He didn't know yet he wanted friends he could trust like Twice already did. He doesn't have a strong backstory motivation like Compress, or Dabi or even knows what he wants out of society. However, the entirety of MVA is Spinner letting himself be changed because of his interaction with the group.

Spinner failed at life, his quirk is worthless and only good for sticking to walls. He also internalized the idea that he himself was a failure, and locked himself inside believing he couldn't accomplish anything on his own. Spinner says he has nothing he loves, and nothing he wants to do. Not only that he feels unloved and unwanted. However, Spinner finds something to love in Shigaraki, even if he can't find a strong sense of individualism and still believes himself to be worthless he becomes motivated to help others. Spinner, the most normal person in the group with the most worthless quirk, becomes the greatest help to Shigaraki, basically once he gets over himself and his preconceived notions of himself. Because, you don't actually have to be a special person or have a strong quirk to be a hero, you have to reach out a hand.

The same way Spinner was won over by the League, Dabi has yet to be won over. However, if that does happen, it's probably going to look like Spinner's arc. Dabi antagonizes Spinner a lot, but they actually have more in common than they do differences. They both have failure quirks, while Dabi has an overwhelming fire quirk he wasn't allowed to use, Spinner is literally just a gecko. They both also were labeled as disappointments and given up on, Enji gave up on Touya, Spinner never had any potential from the start and locked himself away in his room. However, their paths so far have been opposites, Spinner let Shigaraki reach him and became a part of the group, Dabi at every possible opportunity insists he's doing this all alone. He takes every chance he can to separate himself from others. If Dabi's arc is going to be a mirror to Shoto's arc eventually, then someone has to reach him and convince him he can't do this all on his own, and Dabi can only truly find himself when he's part of the group once more. After all, so far Dabi is the one most resistant to change. Toga's goal has changed, Shigaraki's changed, Spinner has changed, even Compress now admits that while they're just a gang of thieves that he cares more about everyone else's dreams than his own. Dabi is still nursing a ten-year grudge against Endeavor and doing everything he can to take him down on his own because he hasn't let the group in. And he won't improve or change until he does let others in.

5. Spinner and Shigaraki

I love Compress but I'm skipping over him because his arc hasn't been elaborated on yet. If you want a quick summary though, both Spinner and Compress didn't believe the group to be anything more than a gathering of selfish criminals, however, both of them changed because they wanted to see Shigaraki's dream come true. Not only was Shigaraki the one who inspired both of them to change, but also Compress is the one who first sees how close Spinner is to Shigaraki more than anyone else in the group was.

He also sacrifices himself BECAUSE he's come to realize that what he wants more than his own dreams is to see everyone else's dreams come true. I know Compress's backstory is rushed as all hell, but it almost... almost... works because Compress isn't actually doing this because he's Oji Harima's grandson. His motivation changed a long time ago, he just didn't realize it until he was about to lose the league.

There are a few more parallels, they're both dropouts. It's implied that Compress was literally just a retired and failed stage magician before he decided to become a villain. Hopefully we'll become more on that later because the idea of Compress sucking in showbiz so he decided to follow his grandfather's legacy is really awesome. Spinner was a Neet before he saw Stain on television. They also both have more minor quirks, Compress just shrinks people, Spinner sticks to things. They both also are characters who don't seem important at first, but consistently hover around in the background constantly making sure everyone in the group is okay. Compress calls to check up on people, he talks to Dabi a lot, he tries to keep up with everybody in a melee, it's the little things he does that make Compress same for Spinner. They're both cosplaying as legendary villains who are greater than they are, Stein is cosplaying his grandfather, Spinner is cosplaying Stain, but it's unknown whether Compress really cares that much about his grandfather's ideals, I think he cares about the league more. Compress and Spinner are also people who question and try to understand things, Compress lectures the kids that they had their ideals handed down to them for adult, Compress realizes Spinner's importance to Shigaraki before Spinner even did, Compress and Spinner also both try to understand other people's dreams because they're lacking in their own. Spinner doesn't even have a dream, but he's the one who listened to Shigaraki's dream first.

Now it's been directly said by canon that Spinner and Shigaraki's connection is the most developed, and they are the closest to one another. By developed I mean, it changed over time, when it started out they had almost nothing to do with one another. Spinner was just a rank and file league member that Shigaraki used on the hideout raid. They didn't even get a character introduction scene like Shigarki did with Dabi and Toga.

However, Spinner and Shigaraki's characters are extremely closely tied together. Shigaraki's like the main character of the league, his backstories parallel everyone else's, including the main character of the entire story Deku. He's the one who makes the plans, goes through training arcs, he's the one who the league unites around. However, Spinner actually has all of that too. I just spent a very long time showing how Spinner despite not having an overly complicated backstory has strong parallels to everyone in the league. If Shigaraki is the main character, then Spinner is the everyman / the perspective character, hence why he's the narrator of MVA. Shigaraki is a person of extraordinary circumstance, the symbol of society's oppression who everyone in the league deepy relates to because he's suffered the same way that they have and he accepts them. Whereas, Spinner has suffered because of Hero Society too, he's more like a normal guy who makes an effort to understand everyone around him.

However, Deku wasn't saved by his love interest, or even his childhood friend who is apparently his destined rival, he was saved by Iida trying his best to keep up with him.

Spinner and Shigaraki are both the emotional core of the league in different ways. The league all respects Shigaraki, they rally around his ideas, his dreams are what inspire everybody. However, more and more it's looking like Spinner, ordinary, average, Spinner is working to build emotional connections to everyone in a much more normal way. He talks to Toga and tries to understand her love. He even consoles Toga when twice is gone. He challenges Shigaraki directly to his face. Compress who is always sort of watching the league in the background and checking up on them in little ways notices how hard that Spinner is trying to take care of Shigaraki.

Shigaraki accepts people at their worst and gives them a place to belong, but I think by Spinner's efforts to get to know and understand others, we as an audience are shown how humanizing of a presence that Spinner is on everyone else. Spinner, just being a normal guy, brings out the fact that the rest of the league despite their extraordinary circumstances are deep down just normal people to, who want to be loved normally, and live normally. Spinner literally wakes up Shigaraki, because he remembered the one time that he opened up in front of all of them, and cares enough to try to understand Shigaraki's hurt feelings and what he cares about.

If anything from the last arc in the manga, we're shown at great length, how understanding, reaching out, it all takes effort and it's not as flashy as defeating a villain or rescuing someone from a natural disaster.

Spinner is so important to Shigaraki, because while Shigaraki has given everyone in the group a place where they can be individuals, Shigaraki hasn't realized he himself can be an individual yet. He ultimately, shares the same character flaw as Deku. It's because he's decided that he's going to carry out his dreams for the sake of the league and to create a better future for them, that Shigaraki no longer cares what happens to himself, or about his own future. Everyone talks about Dabi's suicidal nature, but this is something that Shigaraki is challenged on over and over again. What are your motivations. What are your reasons. What do you want to accomplish. He always responds with nothing. There's nothing that he wants, there's nothing worth living for, he only wants to destroy and make a better world for the people who are around him. Shigaraki is the most thoroughly dehumanized character, to the point where he just straight up accepts "god of destruction" because that is at least an identity. Shigaraki needs Spinner and his normalizing influence, because Shigaraki can't see himself as a normal person.

Shigaraki shares the same character flaw as Deku, he does everything for the sake of others, with no regard to himself, which leads to extreme bouts of self-harming and fighting alone. Shigaraki faced off against Endeavor, and basically all the heroes alone even though he did call for backup. However, even before that Shigaraki made the decision to get dangerous risky surgery that would be like hell, because he believed deep down he wasn't good enough alone. Shigaraki just does not care about himself and is unable to see himself as an individual, which is exactly why he needs someone to care for him and see him that way.

Shigaraki's greatest challenge to date is that he's been dehumanized so thoroughly, and lost sight of himself to the point where he's lost even his own body autonomy. When Shigaraki is battling for possession of his body as AFO attempts to take total control and make him into a symbol again, denying him his personhood, we're set up directly with Spinner being the one who reminds us that Shigaraki is just a person, who likes video games, and gets along with his friends. It's Spinner who notices right away that AFO is different from Shigaraki and challenges him the same way that he challenged Shigaraki directly in the My VIllain Academia arc. This is all set up most likely, for Spinner being the one to reach out a hand the same way IIDA did, because what Shigaraki needs the most right now, is not a hero who will save him, but rather a normal person who will understand him and remind him that deep down he was just a normal kid too before all of this happened. What Shigaraki is most in need of is a hand that will reach out to him, and Spinner has already done this once putting Nana's hand back on his face when he couldn't wake up, but what he's failed to realize is that it's his own scaly lizard hands that should be doing the reaching out.