#mom could have read it

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[ultravioletbrit]

“decide / cold” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 449 words

I wasn’t able to do a fic yesterday so doubled up with yesterday’s and today’s prompt. shhh, don’t tell anyone. 🤫  

“James!” Regulus yells from the porch. “Can I please go inside? I’m freezing!” Regulus shoves his hands in his pockets trying to decide if he’s angry or just annoyed.  

“I know! I know!” James calls back. He’s facing away from Regulus, adjusting something Regulus can’t see. “I’m sorry. I swear I was ready and then it just—” James grunts as he moves something. “—and I just need to—” He huffs with frustration at something else “—but I swear I’m almost—” Regulus sees something topple over. James’ shoulders slump forward, and he drops his head with a sigh.

“Never mind.” James tells him, turning to face Regulus, looking like the saddest kicked puppy. He walks up to the porch, eyes on the ground. “I’m really sorry, it’s not ready yet. Go inside and I’ll try to fix it and come get you when I’m sure it’s ready.”

“What is it?” Regulus tries to peer around James, but there’s not much to look at.

James takes an exasperated breath. “It was supposed to be snowmen.” He pouts, and Regulus raises a curious eyebrow. James sighs, “My dad and I used to make showmen of ourselves every year at our house and it was my favorite tradition. So I thought since it’s our first year in our own house, I wanted to make snowmen of you and me, but—” James steps to the side revealing two piles of snow. “—it’s not really working.”

Just when Regulus thought he was angry and annoyed, James has to go and be the most adorable human on the planet. And honestly, it’s taking significant effort for Regulus not to cry right now.

“James…” Regulus starts.

“It’s okay.” James kisses him. “I know you’re cold. Go inside and get warm and I promise they’ll be great the next time I call you.” James tells him and it’s tinged with sadness and frustration.

Regulus takes another look at the snow piles then looks back at James. “Okay.” Regulus tells him.

“Okay.” James says feigning determination.

James walks back to the snow piles and Regulus walks inside.

---------

James isn’t sure what he’s doing wrong or why these stupid snowmen just won’t stay together. He’s about to give up when he hears footsteps in the snow behind him.

Regulus is walking towards him wearing a heavy coat, a hat and scarf and pulling on his gloves.

“What are you doing?” James asks.

“I’m helping.”

“Reg, you don’t have to—” James gets cut off when Regulus kisses him.

“Now, I’ve never actually made a snowman before, but you can teach me, right?” Regulus asks and it’s taking significant effort for James not to cry right now.

“Yeah.” James says. “Yeah, I can teach you.”   

[laurrelise]

finally started reading sunrise on the reaping and here are my thoughts so far :))

oh my GOD oh my god what the HELL oh my FUCKING GOD my GOD holy SHIT what the HELL i was not PREPARED i am in devastation i will never be ok again don’t talk to me i am in pain

[fumifooms]

Thinking about them…

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: Spring Haul!

My birthday and indie bookstore day are, like, super close to one another, which I LOVE because it means I get So Many Indie Day Deliveries Right Around My Birthday!! Behold: This Year's Stack, featuring purchases and gifts alike!

[vermwerm]

KILL.

[aparticularbandit]

Haiji is the eleventh (or thirteenth, if we include Hina and Hiro). He'd be there to fight with Makoto for including Monaca; he's the leader of Towa City now, and his arm has never recovered, although it's no longer in a cast. This makes sense: even in backstory, he hated her, and after everything in UDG, he has more of a reason to do so. He's never forgiven her, never gotten over what she did to him or to the city. (Similar to how the Warriors of Hope feel about her, to be honest.) His hair's normally pulled back in a neat ponytail, and he's in a black suit with his rosy button-up unbuttoned the first two buttons.

I also think it's likely that in a similar manner to Byakuya taking Nagisa under his wing, some of the others have taken the Warriors as their not kids but still their kids.

Komaru and Toko have Kotoko (and Hina is her overly involved aunt, especially when she realizes Kotoko is getting into boxing - she's a swimmer, she's athletic, and fighting reminds her so much of Sakura). (It's more like Komaru has Kotoko, though, because while Toko is there frequently, she's also going back and forth between Hope's Peak and wherever Byakuya is. Even if Byakuya doesn't want her. (This leads to Nagisa having mixed disdain and pity for Toko. They know each other really well.))

Hiro has Masaru, because con artist teaching a pickpocket sounds right (even though Hiro mostly doesn't run cons anymore, now that he has a teaching gig at Hope's Peak and their protection; he definitely teaches Masaru to be a lot more careful with his hits so he doesn't run into the same trouble Hiro did). (And Hiro's mom probably also helps parent Masaru, so he's just. all the maybe not great adult role models. But they all love each other, so that's okay, right?)

And while Hina is definitely Kotoko's overinvolved aunt, Jataro is hers, because he needs more than anything the bubbling love and affection that Hina can provide (also donuts, she wants to know how he can eat that many donuts and stay so super thin, where is he putting them), and because Hina's best (lost) friend was also seen as ugly and an ogre and she doesn't want that for Jataro. Toko also helps with Jataro, but more on the art side of things, not because Toko is an artist, but because she's a writer, and she gets that aspect of him better than Hina does.

But Monaca is still, as much as she can be, Junko's, even though Junko isn't around anymore. (Eventually, I'd say she becomes Makoto and Kyoko's, but I don't know if she'd want to belong to Makoto. At all. Ever. He killed Big Sis Junko, after all, and she's never going to forgive him for that.)

And I think in terms of theme, that's kind of what the point would be. Recovering from abuse, to an extent, because that's important re: Warriors of Hope. But also what it looks like to accept multiple facets of someone you love - or loved - how they may have saved your life, but that doesn't mean they were good. How to let go of an obsessive love that's not doing you any favors. How to grow up and adjust.

But also you don't just have that re: the Warriors' relationship with Junko, you also have that with their relationship with Monaca, who definitely did use them and was fine with them dying as long as she got what she wanted. How do you accept that someone who hurt you and who you hate can also grow and change and become someone different? Even if you don't want to be friends anymore, how do you address that? Can you address that? Can you forgive someone for hurting you, even if you don't want anything to do with them ever again?

(And yes, this also includes Haiji and Monaca's relationship because that's baked in there, as well, between the level of abuse he and their father gave to Monaca and her destruction of Towa City - she might say it wasn't for revenge, but there was probably something warm in being able to hurt her brother the way he hurt her. They have never loved each other (and that's the difference between Haiji and Junko or the other Warriors; Junko and the others loved Monaca (and Monaca loved them), but Haiji never did and probably never will) - and can they move on from that? Is that even possible?)

Etc. Etc.

....

Also the idea that Monaca keeps at least one Monokuma with her (and has always kept the Monokumas with her) because she programmed them all with Junko's Monokuma voice and even though Junko isn't there with them anymore, it's a piece of her that still is.

That she's programmed at least one of them to read her bedtime stories in Junko's voice (because she probably has an audio recording of that somewhere), that she's programmed some of them to talk to her like Junko does, but it's hollow and empty because no matter how much she makes them speak Junko, it still isn't Junko. Just the underlying ache of that.

(And the final chapter really has to come down to whether Monaca would bring Junko back or not. Maybe not. But Monaca being able to get everything she's wanted since Junko died - which is having Junko back - and having to decide...is it worth it? After everything in the entire fic, does she still want Junko back? Or does she just want who she imagined Junko to be - who Junko was to her - a Junko devoid of all the other horrible things that Junko is and was? And is it really Junko she wants? Or just someone who stands in the gap and says she's valuable and worthy and chosen and loved?)

I keep going back to the idea of Monaca finally coming back from outer space and ending up being invited to be a student at the new Hope's Peak Academy.

All of the Warriors of Hope would be invited and would be there, maybe, not just Monaca, but she's the most wary of it. (DR3 implies the other four were helping Komaru and Toko, so maybe they've still kept in touch. Monaca, meanwhile, is both Monaca and has been living her best life in outer space, far away from everyone and everything. Except television, which DR3 implies she somehow still has.)

But like. They're all radically different.

Jataro's still some sort of Ultimate Art because that's the best way he knows to express himself, but he's all willowy and thin and never wears his mask anymore and his hair's kind of long. He's kind of a pretty boy, the exact opposite of himself.

Masaru's maybe the Ultimate Pickpocket because it's all a game to him. Sometimes he gives stuff back, and sometimes he doesn't. But he likes the running, likes the chase. He's not a hero anymore, not a leader, but he's still a little bit Peter Pan, and he never wants to grow up.

Nagisa's maybe the Ultimate Manger - not like Nekomaru because he's not into sports, but corporate positions. He's good at arranging people, good at scheduling, good at making businesses better and more effective. He's best at knowing when people need to take time off, when to let them rest and take a break, and because he's so good at his job, the corporations tend to listen to him. His hair's grown long and bushy, like a fluffy cat's tail, and it's always kept back in a ponytail. At some point in the past several years, he's gotten glasses, and while he knows he's good at his job, he's grown more shrunk into it.

Kotoko, meanwhile, has gone full tilt into her fighter class and become the Ultimate Boxer. She hates gentle, hates it, and having something else to beat up, to rough up, to punch has been a healthy way for her to get all of that negative energy out. (I like to think she and Komaru took a self-defense class together, and she liked it so much she kept going with it.) All of her hair has been chopped short, and she has the band-aid on the side of her face that Masaru used to have across his nose. But it's still a cutesy band-aid; she still loves adorable things. (In fact, it's probably the same bunny-covered band-aid that Junko used on the Steering Committee member.)

And Monaca, herself, is also something other, something different, but she's not necessarily better. She's spent all that time alone and away from everyone and everything. I don't know what her Ultimate might be, but they call her the Ultimate Space Case as a joke. And she still knows just what buttons to push to rile everyone up.

Hope's Peak isn't what it was either, so we get to see what Makoto's done with it. It still focuses primarily on the growth of its Ultimates, but it's more about giving them a safe space to continue to pursue their passions while also making sure they get a well-rounded education. There are other students, too, Talentless ones, but they're not treated any different from the Ultimates. In fact, sometimes the Ultimates are asked to teach on their passions, if they want, and Talentless students go and learn intricate stuff from them to get better at stuff they like. (Kotoko teaches a self-defense class primarily for girls; Masaru is not allowed to teach pick-pocketing, but sometimes he does anyway.)

....

And then, of course, because it's Danganronpa, they somehow find themselves locked in the school and Monokuma shows up to start a Killing Game.

The Warriors of Hope immediately pull a DR2 vs. Nagito bit and tie Monaca up and leave her in one of the rooms because obviously it's her. Everything was good and fine until she showed up, and no one wanted to emulate Junko as much as she did, and she's still kind of a bitch, and no one knows what she's been up to in space, maybe she's been planning this for years!

Except it's not Monaca and Monaca desperately wants to figure out who it is because she's pissed off. How dare whoever this is use Big Sis Junko's legacy this way? (Yes, she still loves Junko. The other Warriors still do, too, but they've got a bit of better perspective on her. She could be good to them and still be a horrible person. It can be complicated. There's no such it can be complicated with Monaca.)

And Monokuma comes to Monaca all tied up and talks with her a bit. Asks her what she would do if it actually was Junko. Which Monaca refuses to believe because Junko is dead, Junko has been dead for years at this point, there's no way she's coming back, no way she's alive. But Monokuma plants enough of a seed of doubt that she's left unsure.

Then the story proceeds from there.

I like to think Monokuma untied Monaca. That would give her a lot of extra suspicion from the Warriors, especially if she's honest and says Monokuma did it. She wants to be honest because that's the only way people will believe her, and maybe Komaru and Makoto do, when she says she's not involved, but Kyoko holds off because she's all investigation mode and the Warriors absolutely refuse, absolutely are certain this is her fault, because it's always her fault. And if she's telling the truth, then she's obviously in cahoots with Monokuma because he's helping her! Also who is the one who still has Monokuma servants? Just Monaca. She has to be doing it!

Excepting that this Monokuma is clearly not Towa City design. Toko has seen them both - the ones Monaca used and the one Junko used - up close and personal - and they're not the same. Monaca's are mass-produced copies of the original, and they're servants. Junko's was an exquisitely designed one-of-a-kind original (she had more than one, but there's no Monokumas like Junko's Monokumas). And these are Junko's Monokumas.

Which leads to concern for the Remnants. Whether they've reverted, whether they're involved somehow. And maybe they're able to contact them (or maybe one of them is there with them, too), and nothing points in that direction either.

And so on.

Despite being dead, I think Junko's still involved somehow. Because it's always Junko, at the end. And because the idea of Monaca specifically having a reunion with some form of Junko is just. a very strong pull here. Of a Junko who can look at Monaca and say she's proud of her and who she's become, who maybe can look at the other Warriors and say the same, although that's less important. (The other Warriors would not want her to be proud of them. Monaca still does.)

Anyway, these are the thoughts. Idk if I'll ever actually long form write the thing (between the Warriors of Hope, Makoto, Kyoko, Komaru, Toko, and maybe a Remnant, that's 10. I don't know who the other six would be, unless I rope in Hiro and/or Hina (who could be teachers at Hope's Peak) and/or more Remnants (which I like less). No Byakuya, although I feel like he's been taking Nagisa under his wing. And while it'd be interesting to rope in new characters, new Ultimates, I don't want to "clearly these don't have plot armor but everyone from canon does" you know? So. That's a thing.)

Just. Thoughts.

[renstrapp]

New cat troubles! Read the full comic on Autostraddle.

dedicated to @sastreon

[radio-4-is-static]

You Could Have It So Much Better: Franz Ferdinand Interview + In the Studio ⤷ Week Two of FranzFeb: appreciation for your favorite album

[kaisollisto]

“Are you here?" Ava barely breathes it, there's a tension in the air that she can't recognize, an energy that squashes her. Her throat feels scratchy and she can feel the Halo slotted between her shoulders. Ava's flat on her back head turned to look over at Beatrice. She feels wimpy like a stomped flower, her left arm dangles dangerously close to Beatrice-territory. She wants to reach out, to touch Beatrice to confirm that she's here but something stops her. She feels so silly, she could easily shift over to touch Beatrice, shake her gently and - 

Beatrice slides over, a firm sleepy sister warrior knife wielding badass with frumpy hair poofing from what remains of her low bun. She moves towards Ava, inches away from her but moves to answer her. It’s rare for Ava to see her like this. Beatrice is clearly fighting sleep, rubbing her eyes and doing her best to move in hopes that it’ll shake the sleepy spell. 

She’s dressed in one of Ava’s ugly loose white shirts, a huge bass clashing with faded big blocky lettering that just reads “FISH”. Beatrice had looked at her weirdly when Ava had dug it out of the bins at a thrift store disheveled and ecstatic. 

Ava had spent hours coaxing her into it doing her damn best to hide Beatrice’s laundry when she wasn’t looking. It fills a warm feeling in her chest and Ava wants to burrow further into it. It was a fool proof plan. 

Ava found her shortness made it exhausting to reach up towards the Beatrice-level-cabinets. The halo pulls at her pinching and knotting up the muscles in her back after a long day of training. She feels it alive within her, an uncomfortable reminder sealed inside her back. 

At the end of the day Ava settled on hinging at the waist. She had slowly started integrating Beatrice’s sleep shirts in cabinets that Beatrice had to bend down to reach. Ava always tried to situate herself at the scene of the crime doing her best to seem inconspicuous while she leaned over hungry for Beatrice’s reaction. Ava thumbed her findings down in the recess of her mind, her finger tracing over it in a hurried desperation. The time would pass and she did not want to forget. 

(It helped, the imagery of Bea’s furrow when she would find her sleepwear underneath the sink when Ava would have to tuck her spine into the halo as she placed the shirt somewhere clean.) 

Thanks to her genius planning Beatrice had finally caved and worn Ava’s huge “FISH” t-shirt after weeks of her persistence. She looked adorable, she was drowning in it and constantly tugging at it. She had found Beatrice loved to tuck it into the band of her sleep shorts creating puffy funny creases distorting the text even further to say “FSH”. It looked so ugly and old and endearing. 

She looked out of her depth and it made Ava’s heart thump funny. Beatrice with her weird posh mannerisms combined with the peaceful unguarded look when she slumbered made her feel hot all over. 

It was the prospect of the future, a glimpse into her life with Beatrice, of when they would grow old together. It shakes her, the idea that Beatrice will get wrinkles with her. She takes it seriously, a study that she isn’t well versed in but preparing for. It is a long hard internal debate flipping between what wrinkles will show first. Ava selfishly hopes it’s smile lines, that Beatrice will smile at her as much as she does in secret. She’s happy to be wrong, Beatrice’s forehead crinkles have always been cute. She hopes that Beatrice never stops looking at her, thinking of her. She wants to spend a long time being the source of her wrinkles. And just for right now she can handle the role of being just her friend. 

Beatrice blinks one eye open, the other pressed against the pillow as she stifles a yawn. Her hand blocks her mouth in a delicate way and Ava can see her nails are short and uneven in places. Ava wishes she could touch them, study them in a way no one has done before. She wants to press against Beatrice hard enough to watch her skin fold around hers. Some sort of truth that she was here, that she is here. 

Beatrice scoots over slowly, her elbow tucked under the pillow. She stops inches away from Ava, a frown set in her jaw. Ava mirrors her position albeit more awkwardly and more wiggling than Beatrice’s but she finds a place where the Halo won’t bite her back. 

“I’m here,” Beatrice murmurs it, a quiet thing between them. 

Ava closes her eyes hoping Beatrice won’t notice her shakiness. She blinks a few times before she presses closer, the arm she’s laying on moving to support her head underneath the pillow. 

There’s so much to tell her, anything and nothing at all and Ava doesn’t know where to start. It constricts her throat, the constant stream of consciousness from inside of her heart. It’s horrible and she can’t stop it as the feeling balloons inside of her lungs. Ava wants help, she so desperately wants to feel okay again, to feel anything other than the stupid fucking halo. It grates on her nerves and muscles, a burning hot metal ring poking and prodding at the entirety of her upper torso. It leaves her reeling, a sort of anger that beckons for her to hurt (hurt something, hurt someone, hurt), disregarding the aftermath of tears and shame. 

Ava is sure she’s shaking, a layer of sweat gathers between the space of her shoulder blades as the Halo lights up with her inner turmoil. It’s a faint pitiful thing that Ava would be ashamed of if not for the bone aching tiredness. 

She wants to say she’s sorry the words clawing their way up her throat and it feels wrong to feel anything but that. There’s a sort of unspoken shame that haunts her with the Halo. It’s a thing she’s known long before any of this. 

Beatrice drags her out of her turmoil with her hand hovering near Ava’s pinky. She has a gracefulness to it, like she has practiced it a hundred times over. It’s weird, to be in a bed, a soft and lumpy bed looking at Beatrice. Beatrice with such plain features and subtle cheekbones that Ava can’t stop looking. It pays off, watching Beatrice, Ava knows it when Bea smiles a grin too wide for polite acknowledgement and Ava can see her dimples pronounced. 

“Can I?” Beatrice’s finger lingers near her hand, a hovering itch that Ava needs scratched. It’s so wholeheartedly Beatrice that Ava can do nothing but nod. Something inside of Ava aches harder than the rest of the organs inside of her. It’s the unwavering crushing thumping feeling that squeezes around her heart. The sincerity of Beatrice. 

She places her hand over Ava’s and squeezes her gently. Beatrice’s hands are firm and soft. She can feel the callouses on her palms prodding at the back of her hand and wonders if Beatrice has ever had them fade away. If she’s had the pleasure of unscathed palms. Her hands are warm but not sweaty, not like Ava’s.

Ava can’t feel Beatrice’s pulse but she tries her best to match it. She imagines it would be a slow melody playing a duet with a classical track. Some sort of tune that spurs comfort or a feeling of nostalgia. She briefly wonders if Beatrice listens to music, if she seeks out music that has spoken to her. If there was a song that shook her to her core so deeply she had to sit down and digest it. There’s so much she still needs to know and so little time. 

“I admit I’m not sure what you need from me.” Beatrice whispers it quietly, she’s hunched awkwardly, hovering close in Ava’s space but too far away for her own comfort. 

Ava clamps her mouth shut, sure that “come closer” will betray her. That she will reach too far into Beatrice and take far too much. 

Beatrice pays no mind to Ava’s silence and slowly caresses her hand, it’s a small little gesture that seems to have no set course. Ava briefly wonders if it’s the start of a massage or if Beatrice is looking for her joints underneath her skin and touching her tendons in apology. 

It should be awkward, Beatrice and Ava orbiting each other in a lopsided manner. A rotational tilt that is unfamiliar to both of them and yet feels intimate. An unknown dance with their eyes closed and their breaths mingling. (It’s easy to follow Beatrice’s lead, Ava knows love.) 

There’s nothing Ava can say to her, she chokes up at the prospect and they both blink at each other. She’s not sure what she needs, only that it’s nice having someone here. 

Beatrice drowsily blinks rapidly and slowly at the same time as Ava watches swallowing the bits of her smile. Her hand has slowed its pathing, opting to curl on the inside of Ava’s fingers. It’s endearing watching one of her favorite bad ass sister warriors lose against sleep. It softens the edges of Beatrice who is always carrying some unseen obligation. (Here it is only the two of them free of their past and future burdens, just two girls sprawled thinly on hopes and dreams). 

She can feel Beatrice’s grip loosen, she’s going to fall back asleep any minute now but Ava doesn’t have the heart to keep her up. Beatrice is no doubt tired, powered by her own sleeping and eating habits unlike Ava who has the artifact to juice her up. 

She isn’t quite unwound but she feels manageable now. It’s weird to be within reach of Beatrice, someone who cares about her. To be in proximity of someone who will look for her, be in step with her, maybe it’s duty but Ava holds it close to her heart regardless. (It’s all the same to her, devotion, loyalty, love). 

She clings to Beatrice afraid to let the moment go, she had called and someone had answered, Bea had answered. Ava can feel her eyes watering, it almost feels like a distant dream. She tucks her chin closer to chest and thinks, how awful to be loved. 

She can feel her throat closing up and she squeezes Bea’s hand just a tiny bit harder. (She answers in the twitch of her hand, clearly on the cusp of sleep). The Halo still thunders in her back throbbing some fatal fate but here in the hush of night grounded by the touch of Beatrice she has some reprieve.  (Part 1)

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

I just want to say, as a member of the PCA, Revoice is an utter ugly stain on my denomination and everyone involved in its inception should’ve been put under discipline a long time ago, and the leaders expelled from ministry. they are wolves in sheep’s clothing. “Spiritual Friendships” are a trap set by Satan.

[mossterunderthebed]

[sincerelymarner]

credits: on the bus with cammi & aj / cbc / espn / please look after mom, kyung-sook shin

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[purpleshadow-star]

So I went to an early screening for the first two episodes of the Percy Jackson show yesterday (Saturday), and let me just say, it is 100% the adaptation we deserve. It was amazing. Once it ended, I wanted more.

The characterizations were amazing, any changes there were made sense and made the situation more realistic and added tension, the story was straight from the book, it was just amazing.

I went with my mom and she, who doesn't know the books, really enjoyed it. I asked her how she liked it (literary just the first two episodes) compared to Harry Potter (which i had her watch a few years back), and she said there was no contest. She likes the pjo show much more. She said it was engaging and even had her wanting the next episode once it was done.

Everyone needs to watch this show. It was amazing. It lives up to the hype. We need to make sure it gets greenlit for season 2.