#I don't like the concept of passing time in general

[synchodai]

"Mystra groomed Gale" takes rustle my jimmies like no other. I get how some people who don't know much about her beyond BG3 may have this interpretation, but if you're like me, a woman who's been playing since the days of AD&D, you'd understand why accusing Mystra of being the bad person in this scenario may hit a nerve.

TL;DR: Did Mystra take advantage of Gale's devotion to her as his goddess? Definitely, she's a Faerûnian deity — they subsist on worship and adulation. Does that make her his abuser? Eh... man, maybe it's high time that a lot of us learn different terminology for unhealthy relationship dynamics other than abuser-victim. I've seen a couple of posts that are really gung-ho about forcing every companion character to be some sort of abuse victim, because that's what they've decided the game is about. I mean, they're free to interpret the game that way, but damn, we're really out here flattening god, the very concept of magic itself, into the role of an abusive ex, huh? A fantastical, nuanced relationship between mortal and immortal set against the backdrop of a rich palimpsest multiverse digested like a YouTube drama video.

Let me try to explain my perspective by going through the history of Mystra, how she's utilized in Forgotten Realms lore, and treated within D&D games in general.

MYSTRA THE MAN-EATER

Since her creation, she has always been depicted as the sexy goddess whose main purpose was to be a wizard player's muse as well as their patron. Back then, D&D (and TTRPGs in general) was a heavily male-dominated hobby, so Mystra (and Mystryl, her avatars, and all her other incarnations) was catered and shaped by that demographic.

Because it's the player characters and Wizards of the Coast who have narrative agency and many of them want to fuck a goddess, they make stories where Mystra comes on to them because their character is just so good at magic. They designed Mystra to be a mysterious, beautiful love interest because they wanted to use her as the crown jewel of their power fantasy of being a super cool and powerful magic man. You can pretty much see this in the Elminster books and the Avatar series with Midnight (one of Mystra's avatars). Gale himself seems to be an exploration of this typical kind of wizard character.

As far as power fantasies go, making the goddess of magic have an intimate relationship with a mortal character is fine. It's the ultimate validation for a burger-flipper when the god and all source of burger-flipping is head over heels in love with them. It also doesn't have to have a sexual component to have "magic" and the magic system itself enamored with a character — depending on the game and DM, Mystra's favor can be entirely symbolic and metaphorical. A fine power fantasy in the power fantasy generation game.

So because everyone literally wants a piece of her, you end up with Mystra having more Chosen running around than any other god. Understandable given what she has to do to maintain her massive portfolio. It fits her as the personification of magic — someone who entices ambitious young spellcasters but burns them out through obsession and overreaching. Consume any Forgotten Realms-related media, and you've probably come across at least one campaign, novelization, or character backstory that use Mystra for the role of sexy sorceress goddess that's the alluring (yet often demanding) patron of some magic man. Whomst amongst our wizards haven't been visited by Mystra in the night ordering him to do plot point, he rolls to seduce her, and she has no choice but to admit that she's actually attracted to him because the dice said so? It was a community inside joke passed around tables: Mystra the Man-eater.

But then some BG3 fans started taking the joke seriously...

MYSTRA THE GROOMER AND WHORE

This piece of dialogue has done so much irrevocable damage.

Some (Galemancers specifically) have interpreted this to mean that Mystra is known to go after young men. She does not. She has more documented Chosen than other gods due to her massive portfolio and power level, but there are just as many female Chosen as there are male Chosen. Minsc, like most of us in this fandom, is speculating and doing so in a way that uplifts Gale at the cost of taking a bit of a jab at Mystra.

"Mystra's a whore. She boned Kelemvor and Elminster and so many of her Chosen, taking advantage of them as a goddess," they say as if she didn't have her romantic relationships all as different people and in different bodies. Her avatar Dasumia was the one who had an intimate relationship with Elminster, and it was the human Midnight (who later ascended to become Mystra) who was Kelemvor's lover (who himself was a mortal adventurer at the time).

This is why Mystra is, how other people put it, "a whore." Because WotC canonized a handful of those stories where different sexy female mage love interests whom otherwise have nothing in common are slapped with the Mystra label for one reason or another. Sometimes they're mere avatars or magical projections, sometimes they're actual people possessed by Mystra, and sometimes they're destined to be the new Mystra but don't know it yet. But those sort of nuances are lost to people who learn their lore secondhand from deliberately provocative tweets and reddit posts, flattening extremely fantastical relationships to clumsily fit a more relatable framing that'll net them more online engagement.

I don't want to argue what is and isn't grooming. But I have encountered arguments taking Gale's mentions that he was "a young man" to mean Mystra groomed him as a child. But I doubt he would have said "young man" if he meant child...

Mystra took off the gossamer veils from her body to fully reveal herself to him — or whatever romanticized way Gale tells you that they were intimate. The man speaks in half-abstraction and metaphors because it's revealed later on in the romance that all their love-making happened outside the Material Plane. They were very intimate, but never physically had sex (or had any physical contact at all because gods are only allowed to interact with mortals through their avatars or projections). If Mystra "groomed" Gale, so did every other god who revealed themselves and made themselves vulnerable to their followers. Shar grooms her justiciars when she brings them into her dark embrace. Umberlee grooms her clerics when she swallows them up and gives them her wet kiss.

MYSTRA IS A FAIR GOD ACTUALLY

Look, gods in D&D-verses are, more often than not, dicks. They have to be or else there would be no need for adventurers to fix wrong-doings if the gods weren't so detached to the suffering of mortals and regularly making earth-shattering calamities.

Mystra, as a patron, is actually one of the more fair and hands-on dieties. She's one of the few gods who rewards benevolent ambition and punishes destructive hubris, knowing the line between the two. In the Elminster series, she (or one of her avatars) assists Elminster in taking down one of her rebel Chosen who has abused her blessing to become a tyrant. Azuth, one of her Chosen, has achieved godhood through her. In fact, she is divinely obliged — forced against her will, some might say — to help mortals she would personally rather smite. There have been so many instances where Mystra has to be the bigger person. As far as gods abusing their followers go, Mystra is low on that list.

There are barely any stories of magic abusing spellcasters, but there are cautionary tales aplenty of spellcasters abusing magic.

ON GALE SPECIFICALLY: HOW IS MYSTRA THE BAD GUY HERE?

Gale is the first to tell you that he "violated her boundaries." Mystra told him not to mess with the Tome of Netheril and he did it anyway, so he's fully aware that the orb in his chest and his fall from grace is his own fault. Mystra didn't cast him aside just because she felt like he was getting too big for his britches. His actions actively endangered her and the Weave.

(Mystra is wrong about certain details on the Karsite Weave if we're going by Forgotten Realms lore, but she's not wrong about its existence being a danger. BG3 takes a lot of liberties with the world Faerûn, so I can't definitively say whether Mystra being wrong was her lying, Larian rewriting canon, or this incarnation of Mystra not knowing the true nature of the Fall of Netheril. I could go on about what effects the Karsite Weave actually would have on magic, but this post is already long enough. )

Gale only starts to resent Mystra when she asks him to detonate himself. Elminster makes it sound like an order, but from the way she doesn't punish him in the epilogue if he chooses to keep the orb, it feels more like a suggestion. If Mystra wanted Gale well and truly dead, she has so many options.

Throughout Faerûn's history, Mystra herself has constantly been betrayed and taken advantage of — her power coveted by ambitious men who claim to worship and love her. Honestly, as far as goddesses with traumatic histories of being killed by ambitious men go, she's pretty chill about Gale. The fact that she allows him to become the god of ambition in the end if you choose that path? Well... let's just say she's not the one who looks like the evil ex who was only with their partner to take advantage of them in this scenario.

CONCLUSION

Mystra isn't the only goddess to have romantic relationships with her followers. I've already yapped on about how Forgotten Realms writers and D&D players love to make goddesses fuck their heroes, and all that pearl-clutching over "power imbalance" and "consent" is moot when the mortal party is actively rolling to seduce the divine entity.

But notice how the male gods rarely have intimate relations with their mortal charges? It's almost as if Mystra was objectified for years by horny nerds to be the sexy sorceress who validates the more important male hero. Fast forward years later, she's now being slut-shamed for all the lore of her sleeping with the more important male hero by a new crop of fans who would love to think they're more progressive than the horny nerds of the 80s, but fall into the same trap. Mystra has so much potential for complexity, but they choose to flatten her because they ultimately don't care about making stories involving complex female characters.

Instead, one of the most powerful beings in Faerûn has no bigger role in this universe than to be your girlfriend or your current boyfriend's evil ex. Wow, the realms of your creativity and respect for women truly know no bounds.

[arcane-ish]

Hah, yes, the political aspect is definitely what attracts me.

Zaundad is my primary pairing so I read the most fic from there and I read Timebomb occasionally and I don't cross read that much beyond it.

So I encounter JayVik mostly if they are a secondary couple in Zaundads fic. I encounter them as a primary couple mostly if it seems like Zaundads have a significant enough role to pique my interest which means I mostly know them in the form of "Jayce and Viktor travel back in time to fix the Piltover versus Zaun conflict" as that would be the main backdrop where they would meet Vander and Silco. So they feel political to me because I just don't read any "Viktor is a shy student and Jayce is his best friend" or "Viktor is a serial killer and Jayce is a cop" or whatever because they aren't my primary interest.

I find I would totally read CaitVi if I could find political stories on them. Like I would totally read a "Vi and Cait become revolutionaries" or "a reverse AU where Cait is a Zaunite and all the Zaunite characters are Pilties" fic if there's a good one (and I feel like "Silco as Cait's in law" is way underused in fic from what I found so far). But I'm just too lazy to dig through the big pile of CaitVi fics just to identify the ones that would fit my interests.

I would totally read meta on other couples and I do have a passing interest in the various morality debates that CaitVi find themselves in. I also really like Mel meta when it's about her character. But I usually go in through tags like "arcane analysis" so if it's not tagged like that I would probably miss it, because I'm not as interested in just fawning or jokes about couples that aren't my primary ships to go through the other could tags or the general tag.

Gotta say, I feel least connected to JayVik discourse because it's just more likely to not cover topics I'm as interested in (and I personally thought Viktor's connection to Zaun was really superficially handled in the show so most "Viktor as a Zaunite" discourse strikes me as not that believable. I think what the show did with his concept (as a Zaunite who mostly socialized/is friends with Pilties) was just too flimsy for me.

This fandom has three sides

We’ve got the meljayvik, jayvik, meljay, melvik, whatever sky and viktor’s ship name is side

We’ve got the lesbians caitvi, melvika, and whatever ships are being made with Greyson and Felicia and Cassandra

And then we’ve got the timebomb, isha & Jinx, zaundads, Silco & Jinx, vi & Jinx side of the fandom

And the different sides have WILDLY different views of both the show and the fanon of the show

[abhainnwhump]

That moment when Whumpee is freed from captivity after years and they realize how much time has past. How much happiness, sorrow, celebration, progress, and events have happened among their friends and family. And they weren't a part of it.

[aeolianblues]

never felt more defensive than when applying for a UK visa... 'we need to make sure you won't stay' I DON'T WANT TO STAY 'we have to make sure you return home' I HAVE A NICER LIFE THAN YOU'D IMAGINE. I DON'T NEED TO STAY IN YOUR STUPID COUNTRY. I'M SEEING MY FAMILY 'do you have an onward journey' YES I DO AND I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING THEM. I LEAD A CHARMED LIFE. don't want to stay in your country. Mate. The hubris. Fuck off.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Something something the passage of time or whatever, but I've been following a particular artist for AGES and out of the blue I saw a post from them that just said "My daughter loved what I made for dinner tonight :)" and I was genuinely like "Your WHAT???????" when I read it.

Like, logically yes I know people Age, but my gut reaction is still "I followed you like 7 years ago when you were a baby, what do you mean you're not still a college student."

[cuntwrap--supreme]

I love the "let's blow stuff up" holidays so much. Like, no. I don't have to get up at 7am, actually. I'd love for you to continue literally lighting money on fire into the wee hours of the morn. You have enough explosives to last you until 3:48am? By all means, friends, party away! It's not as if I have to work a 13 hour shift bright and early in the morning. It's not as if some of you are guaranteed to show up to my place of work after waking up at 2 in the afternoon asking why it's taking longer than normal to cook your food. It's actually my fault for having a job that operates during normal business hours. So sorry I'm an inconvenience to you.

[redeemingvillains]

of magic & mayhem - mattheo riddle

summary: the strongest wizard of your age also happens to be hogwarts' playboy, and when he sets his sights on you, you realize neither of you have a choice in the matter.

word count: 3k

a/n: this is like nine of my concepts all mashed into one! heavily influenced by my re-read of fourth wing in preparation for onyx storm coming out, anyone who wants to scream about that in my inbox, please do <3

The Great Hall echoed with the excited chatter of friends and classmates and the general cacophony of breakfast; the sounds of scraping cutlery and the clink of dishes and goblets. You and Pansy sat in genial silence as you read your book and she eyed the gossip column of the Daily Prophet.

You were so totally transfixed on your book that you didn't see the looming figure in front of you until he placed his hands on the oak table and leaned casually across it into your airspace.

"Good morning" he drawled smoothly in a deep voice that caused you to glace up only to see Mattheo Riddle's large amber eyes twinkling at you, matched with a smirk that made you feel like you had pixies in your stomach.

You could smell his cologne from this distance, an undeniable mix of woodsmoke, evergreen and cinnamon that made you feel heady.

"Pansy" he acknowledged, nodding at her as she glanced up at him with a surprise that matched your own.

"Mrs. Riddle" he said, acknowledging you as his electric gaze found yours. You felt a deep blush on your cheeks, even as your face scrunched in confusion and your eyes searched his face for a hint of a joke, finding none.

"What did you just call me?" you asked, cocking your head. As much as you tried to supress it, a small smile graced your lips, which didn't go unnoticed.

"What?" he said in mock surprise. "You don't like it? I think it's perfect."

A pause.

"It suits you" he said confidently. He winked at you as your eyebrows shot up and he turned and walked away without another word.

You turned to look at Pansy who was open-mouthed gaping after him before turning to look at you.

"What was that!?" she exclaimed, excited, like you knew something she didn't.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes despite the hammering of your heart in your chest.

"He's a complete flirt, Pans, I'm not putting a lot of weight in whatever he's woken up and decided to say today."

But even as the words came out of your mouth, you couldn't help but feel excited that you'd caught his attention, even if you knew how delicately dangerous it could be.

"But Mrs. Riddle?! Please. I am dying oh my gods!" she said.

"No, we're not even thinking about this. Not unless you want to listen to me cry myself to sleep in three weeks when I've completely fallen for him and he's moved on to someone else. We all know how this goes and I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

Pansy pursed her lips as she bounced in her seat with excitement, like she was going to explode.

"Okay, but maybe, just hear me out—" she started.

"—No" you said emphatically, as much to her as to yourself.

She stuck her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture.

It was no secret you were sought after; you had your fair share of dates and suitors. And it was no secret that Mattheo Riddle took the concept of incredibly hot fuckboy to another level, which is why, despite his comment and increasingly insistent stares you kept your distance.

Try as you might to forget what he said, or the way his dark eyes had twinkled mischievously as they drank you in, you found your thoughts drifting to him more times than you'd care to admit, and he had no intention of making it any easier for you, because now every time he saw you, he made a point of using your new nickname.

"Good morning, Mrs. Riddle" he said as he passed you in the Great Hall the next day.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Riddle!" he shouted from the opposite side of the common room, which garnered a significant amount of attention and whispers.

"Let me get the door for you, Mrs. Riddle" he said, pushing your classmates out of the way to do so.

"Mmm, gorgeous as ever, Mrs. Riddle" he whispered walking by you in the library in a way that felt like the words themselves danced over every inch of your body.

Pansy was nearly inconsolable over the situation, egging it on eagerly and even picking it up herself.

"Good night, Mrs. Riddle" she said to you as you crawled into bed in your shared dormitory.

"Lay off it, Pansy! Gods" you replied, even as you grinned like an idiot to yourself.

But then she wasn't the only one.

After less than a week of it, the rumor spread like fiendfyre and now Mattheo's friends were smirking at you in the corridor, waving teasingly to you in the common room and offering you every ounce of preferential treatment befitting of the name: knocking Potter off his chair when he took your seat in Potions, forcing a first-year to stand outside your dormitory holding your favorite latte every morning, and ensuring you had a coveted first row seat at their quidditch matches, including the House Cup, which you were excitedly getting ready for when Pansy burst into your room.

"You will never guess what I just heard" she said, grabbing you by the shoulders.

"What's that?" you asked, humoring her frenetic energy.

"Astoria Greengrass having a sob in the girls lav. You know how she and Mattheo have hooked up a few times?—"

You didn't, in fact, know that and couldn't help the pang of jealousy that gripped your chest.

"—Well I heard her telling Penelope Clearwater that he says he doesn't want to anymore and he told Harmony Norman and Maria Warner the same thing!"

Your face tangled in disgust.

"How many girls is he hooking up with? And why do you look so happy about it? What a mess…" you said, sighing as you turned to resume your makeup.

"Why, all of a sudden is he breaking all of them off, hmm?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at you in your mirror.

"I don't know" you said shiftily. "Maybe he's trying to be a better person?!—"

"—Or maybe he has his eyes set on someone else?!" she said insistently. "You know, someone he's given a special nickname to, his name to?"

You opened your mouth to argue with her but you couldn't deny the logic of her statement.

The boys pulled it off, sweeping Gryffindor in the House Cup for the first time in years and the ensuing celebration was electric.

The music in the common room was loud enough to sway the chandeliers in the ceiling, to feel the bass vibrating in your body.

Every Slytherin you knew and quite a few friends from other houses were there, the normally cavernous room filled in a way that made it feel like some sort of night club, bodies covering every inch of space, melding and weaving between each other and raising the temperature of the normally dank dungeon air.

You couldn't help but search the flashing lights and otherwise utter chaos for Mattheo and you didn't have to look for long the way he stood a head taller than almost everyone in the room, even surrounded by his large teammates; not to mention the way they were walking around like kings, taking turns chugging champagne out of their trophy, raucous, rowdy and loud as people cheered around them.

Mattheo himself was in rare form, his handsome curls were slightly askew and his cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and general liveliness of the night. He was dressed in a fitted black tshirt and dark pants and was exuding an energy that was magnetic, even from where you were standing; undeniably, your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of him.

Had you gotten a little dressed up? Of course. It was a celebration, an occasion, why wouldn't you? But as you wound through the sea of bodies, fingers twined in Pansy's, you garnered enough stares and double-takes that had you thinking you may have slightly overdone it.

"Oh, okay queen!" Pansy had said the minute she'd seen your outfit, the way you'd done your makeup and styled your hair, knowing, perhaps, exactly what or who had been on your mind.

You stopped to grab a drink and your cup had barely touched your lips before two guys came up to you that you recognized vaguely from the year below you. They were admittedly cute and you smiled as they compliment you and chatted with you. You leaned in closer to hear them over the music and the crowd and the one closest to you ducked his head toward you when you felt a tingle run from the base of your neck down your spine and a large, warm hand wound its way around your waist, pulling you firmly backwards into what felt like a pliable brick wall. You were startled for only a moment until you caught the undeniable scent of evergreen, of cinnamon.

"Brian is it? Blake? Blaire? Why don't you go get a drink, buddy?" his voice rumbled near your ear, more of a command than a suggestion as Bradley's eyes shot up over your shoulder to the shadow looming there and nodded quickly, retreating.

"Aww" you pouted sarcastically as you turned around. "He was nice, we were having fun!"

You met Mattheo's eyes which were so dark they looked nearly jet black as they glared at you. Had he been jealous?

And like he could read your mind his lip twitched and he rolled his eyes.

"Even if he had a chance with you, which, let's be very clear, he doesn't, he wouldn't know what to do with it."

"And, let me guess, you would?" you asked teasingly.

"Care to find out?" he asked matter-of-factly.

You felt a wave wash over you from your head to your toes, your body tingling with his proximity, with the way his eyes met yours directly, unfaltering despite the myriad distractions around him.

Gods yes you thought, even as you bit your bottom lip, teetering on the edge of a decision you knew you couldn't come back from.

His eyes shamelessly fell to your lips and you suddenly realized that his hands had never left you as they flexed at your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was holding onto you for purchase.

"C'mon" he said, not waiting for a coherent reply from you, which you may never have been able to form had he kept looking at you that way.

His hands left your body only long enough to tangle his fingers in yours and hold them tightly, pulling you behind him as he headed into the sea of bodies on the dance floor, weaving between some as others offered him a wide berth and a congratulations when they realized who he was.

Then, like he was moving in slow motion, he turned to face you, twining your fingers further in his as he pulled you into him, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you were flush to his chest, and his other hand found your waist again, his grip firm and unyielding as he held you to him as if you would argue or try to be anywhere but right here.

You could feel every dip and curve of his body against yours as you moved against each other in a way that felt perfect and also not nearly enough, even though you couldn't get any closer.

You let the hand on his shoulder wander to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling into the curls there and even though the music was loud enough that you could barely hear yourself think, you could feel as much as hear the growl that released in his chest as his hands tightened on you in a way you were certain would leave a bruise.

The lights flickered for just a second, and a few people stopped dancing and shouted but his eyes never left yours, the only acknowledgement he offered, a small grimace on his face, which made you want to kiss his lips back into his irritatingly perfect smirk.

He leaned in, pressing his cheek to yours as his lips hovered to your ear.

"You look stunning, Mrs. Riddle."

He leaned back and you could see his signature smirk gracing his lips again. You opened your mouth to reply as your eyes met his, but your head was swimming at this point. Everything was him all at once, his body against yours, taught and warm to your touch, his breath on you that smelled like cinnamon gum, his cologne, you felt yourself melting into him at his words, closing the only remaining inches between your hips as your hands came to his face and your noses brushed — and then the lights went out in earnest, drowning you in complete darkness.

"Fuck" you heard him mutter strongly before grasping your hand in his as he started to pull you through the imperceptible forms of people who were yelling and shouting, blazing a path through them, pushing people aside brusquely where necessary. He was on a war path and your feet moved quicky to follow him as he cleared most of the crowd and headed directly for the boys dormitory.

He pulled you into a maze of adjoining corridors before swiping his hand causing an approaching door to fly open as he pulled you in behind him. You were barely through it before he swiped his hand again and it slammed closed behind you, forcefully, the energy pouring off of him in a way that reminded you just how strong of a wizard he was, and exactly why absolutely nobody fucked with him.

He turned to you finally, his chest rising and falling as he gripped your waist and pushed you gently against the closed door with a thud. He let his other hand rest beside your head, caging you in. The look of lust on his face was still there, tangled with the same grimace from before, like he was angry, like he was holding something in.

"Mattheo...?" you whispered and he ducked his head away from you, his eyes squeezing shut as the hand at your waist squeezed again, the touch sending an electric tingle up your side that made you gasp.

His gaze came back to you and then he was leaning in, his nose brushing yours again and your hands came to wind around his neck. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as they hovered over yours, barely grazing them, and you could feel static electricity there between you, the air itself alight with energy, vibrating. The temptation was driving you mad, your chest visibly rising and falling against his own and then his lips fell to yours, warm, soft and urgent.

He took your face in his hands and pressed you into the door and you hummed against him. The lights in the room flickered once, then twice, and then rapidly like you were in a horror film before they went out completely, drenching you both in a velvet darkness that was somehow welcoming, like you could feel the shadows themselves dancing over your body, caressing you, enveloping you.

You felt his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened up to him. Your tongued flicked against his and a freezing gust of wind blew papers, books and quills off his desk, hurling them to the ground with a clatter and bang. Mattheo never stopped, his tongue continued to glide over yours and he kissed you like it was the last godsdamn thing he'd ever do.

He hoisted you up so your legs wrapped around his waist and he pressed you back into the door before releasing your lips just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck that he lavished in a way you were certain there would be a violet bruise in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered in pleasure, lost in him for a moment until you caught sight of the room around you and you froze.

It was midnight black but for the moonlight coming through the window which cast everything in a ghostly shade of white, but what caught your eye was that every object in the room was floating, adrift in the air, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf, all hovering feet off the ground. Lightweight objects like clothing, quills and his books floated higher and higher and then you realized that it was cold enough to see your breath in front of you.

"Mattheo" you breathed, trying to get his attention. Your hand carded through his curls and the chair in the corner took flight.

Wait. Was this him?

"Mrs. Riddle?" he murmured in your neck.

"Mattheo" you said again, a stronger urgency in your voice causing him to relent and look up at you with a puff of air of his own.

"Fuck" he said. "It's – yeah. That's me. Well, that's you actually."

"What?"

"S'no secret that my magic is ... strong. And I'm well practiced at controlling it. With... one exception."

He took your hand and placed it over his chest where you could feel his heart hammering.

You searched his eyes and his eyebrow quirked until he gestured to his room. As if to say 'see?'

This boy had quite literally lost his control at your touch.

"Wait, the lights? The music?" you asked, a small smile on your lips at the realization.

"When you touched me, I just—" he shook his head, exhaling another puff of cold air. "—See what you do to me, Mrs. Riddle?" he said.

"Gods, when are you going to stop calling me that?" you laughed, even as you looked at him and traced a finger over his lips.

"When it's true" he said simply.

You looked confused for a moment until he leaned into you again, his magic radiating off of him.

"What?" you breathed.

"When you're mine, and it's official and I won't have to spend all of my free time reminding everyone you're mine, they'll know. Until then, I'll hedge my bets."

He kissed you.

"Mmpf, but what if I didn't want you to stop?" you murmured against him.

He pulled back to look at you, scanning your face for any sign of a joke, and finding none as your eyes connected with his and his lip quirked in a smile.

"Well, princess,” he whispered against your lips, ghosting them with his, teasing you before biting your bottom lip gently in a way that sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the freezing air.

“Whatever Mrs. Riddle wants—” he murmured, kissing you fully, luxuriously, “—Mrs. Riddle gets.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷ EPILOGUE

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites @loverliner

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 26: Soulmates/Soulmate Marks AU

Your mark shows how old will your soulmate be when you fall in love with them. (Meaning both romantically and sexually)

For an event by @bagginshieldweek24

More headcanons after the cut. Seriously, there’s a lot, as I developed a whole idea but had no time to write a fic because of exams.

— Dwarfs come of age in around 80 y.o., having a soulmate from another race is a very rare occurrence; throughout the history of Middle-earth, there have been at most a dozen such cases, so most dwarves are unaware of this possibility. Having a mark with a number younger than the age of majority is a lifelong shame, essentially an admission of pedophilia. Unfortunately, this happens more often than having a soulmate from another race.

— Thorin spent his entire adult life, from the moment the mark appeared, wearing an extra layer of bandages under his bracers to prevent anyone from seeing the number. Fortunately, among dwarves, it is not considered inappropriate to hide the marks, as many value their privacy.

— The mark and thoughts about it were the reason why Thorin often appeared especially gloomy when the topic of romance came up.

— He truly tried to compensate for his "defectiveness" with his virtues.

— Of course, Thorin is a virgin.

— Bilbo, on the other hand, didn't think much about this; hobbits don't see anything wrong with living without their soulmate or seeing their soulmate as a friend. They are generally a loving people and don't worry about the concept of "the one and only."

— Although the topic of soulmates is considered highly romantic in hobbit literature, Bilbo was somewhat disappointed when he realized he would likely never meet his soulmate. (Hobbits are also unaware of inter-racial soulmates.)

— I tried to make young Bilbo look more like Frodo, so here he has smaller curls and a different style of shirt.

— Thorin and Bilbo both hid their marks, so when they felt an attraction to each other, especially after the Carrock, both were initially upset, thinking they weren't soulmates. Thorin, of course, was much more upset.

— During the two weeks they stayed with Beorn (yes, I'm mixing the movie and the book, what are you going to do about it? Slow burn needs time to be slow), they managed to reach the point of kissing near the river or something like that. But when Bilbo tried to unlace Thorin's tunic, Thorin stopped him and said that, unlike hobbits, for dwarves, sexual interaction is a very serious step in emotional attachment. It wouldn't be fair not to tell Bilbo what kind of monster he was getting involved with, because after seeing what Thorin had to show him, Bilbo might not even want to look him in the eye. Bilbo was honestly frustrated. (It is implied that Thorin used some term characteristic of a pedo... ahem)

— With a terrifyingly serious face, Thorin unwrapped the bandages on his wrist, and Bilbo, with a sinking heart, prepared to see a number like 5 or 12. Instead, there was a very respectable and completely normal age. Thorin turned away, not wanting to see the disappointment in the hobbit's eyes. Bilbo spent a few seconds calculating how long dwarves live and how old Thorin actually was.

— Thorin thought Bilbo wanted to shame him for having the audacity to enter into a relationship at such an age, knowing his soulmate's extremely young age. With closed eyes, he forced out that he was 195 and knew how disgusting he was because of it.

— Instead of a slap or something worse, which Thorin wouldn't have opposed, thinking any normal person had the right to treat him like that after seeing it, Bilbo reached for his own wrist and, with suspicious enthusiasm, pulled off the leather bracelet he had worn since the Shire. On the pale skin was clearly marked Thorin's age, written in dark ink with characteristic dwarvish notches.

— Some time passed in silence as they both realized that such a coincidence simply couldn't be.

— They were in for a very pleasant evening away from the company🌚🌝

— Later, when the entire company gathered by the fire, Bilbo and Thorin would come to them, holding hands, the hobbit nearly glowing with happiness in front, and a red-to-the-tips-of-his-ears Thorin slightly behind. This would be the first time anyone in the company saw Thorin without bandages, and if not for the matching age on Bilbo's wrist, now also not hidden by a bracelet, they wouldn't have believed Thorin could be normal with such a number on his skin.

— And the dwarves would realize how young Bilbo was by their standards.

— Truly, the ways of the Valar are mysterious.

— At the very end of the night, Fili would nudge Kili with his elbow and hint that since their uncle had an inter-racial mark, he might not be so angry and yell when he finds out that his brother has a four-digit number on his wrist.

[cherryfennec]

what could you think of for a second and third phase for super dimentio

Ymmm I don't really see him having another phases so no but I've had something for the first 20 seconds of his initial battle in mind.

Tag, he's it.

okay so like spm spoilers and stuff but:

When you first start the battle with Super Dimentio there's a certain period of time where he's invincible. You can't damage him and nothing really happens until Timpani returns with the Pure Hearts.

Now in my personal opinion while I'm still glad they added this moment, it still left me a little unsatisfied. Here's why:

Dimentio turning into Super Dimentio with Luigi is his big moment, his victory. He has become something that is indestructible, something that generations of Ancients have been passing down. He is a god. The time frame where he's indestructible in the game is supposed to show that you are powerless against him, that no Pixl and no item will do anything. This is supposed to make you realize in the moment that: it's truly hopeless.

Unfortunately Dimentios spotlight is VERY quickly taken from him, which makes the idea less effective than it could've been. You see Dimentio working for this the entire game, just for him to win in the end only for 20 seconds and then turn into a joke of a fight. The speech he gives before the fight is longer than the actual boss, making everything slightly anticlimactic (at least to me).

The concept I've been thinking about using in my take of the Super Mario lore (SPM specifically here) is that those 20 seconds of standing and waiting around for the game to decide it's time to move on are instead spent on: A reverse game of magical tag.

The concept of a magical tag itself is used earlier in the game by Dimentio himself who makes Mario and Luigi humour him by traveling through the worlds they have been in before and finding ripples in space he's leaving behind to keep the game going. I thought by turning this moment of 20 second invincibility into a game of magical tag where he's “it” this time would help that feeling of hopelessness and stakes sink in.

In this scenario Mario still cannot fight back as Dimentio,actively chasing him, is invincible, which forces him to run from danger. He runs from world to world, but now in contrast to the previous tag game, the worlds are being wiped out as you go through them for the final time. They're barely holding on, torn from their colors and mixing with the white void peeking through. Maybe some leftover npcs encouraging to keep going or just being terrified instead. Dimentio is chasing after you, peeking his long arms or head through the ripples to strike, and as he makes his way behind you the world progressively disappears and you have to make it out before it's entirely gone, else its game over. In the end of this chase you make it back to Castle Bleck where it picks up on Timpani restoring the Pure Hearts with Blumiere and using them to help Mario by removing Super Dimentios invincibility.

In conclusion I think making this moment akin to what I described above would help set the tone of this enemy more. For one this moment is now LONGER so you can see direct consequences of Dimentios victory outside and think about it more, second it turns you into an actual helpless plaything that you were meant to be. The entire path of the chase leads you back to Castle Bleck, it's a circle. This time you cannot escape and this time the evil doings have been set in motion on a rapid scale. It's a moment of Darkness that's broken by Timpani, someone who has been with you since the beginning and who you saw grow. She's now full of love and determined to win, something that to me comes off as super inspiring. She has been cursed to live a miserable existence yet she found the Light thanks to you. And THAT'S why you shouldn't give up even after all the ruined worlds you've seen. You have to keep fighting for them even in their darkest moment, even when they're gone.

also to clear any confusion yes i know this game is 3+ but i still think it'd be cool ig

[psychoticallytrans]

There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.

There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.

Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.

I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.

I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.

But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.

Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.

Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.

[muxshwriting]

a world of dreams

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

summary: Feyd’s wife was always branded as a dreamer, content to spend a day in her books. but her husband would always entertain her dreams, especially when they save her life /or/ basically the request || warnings: violence, haters gonna hate, death, blood || word count: 1658 || masterlist

REQUEST: I’ve always wondered how Feyd Rautha would handle having a wife like Helaena who speaks in riddles and flinches at loud noises and violence. Maybe an Atreides daughter they’re supposed to create the Kwisatz Haderach with? In a Universe where Jessica stayed loyal to the bene Gesserit. I’d love to know how someone like Feyd would react to her telling him he’s scared the way Helaena does to Aegon in hotd. Maybe he’d have very little patience for her but I could also see him bonding with someone like that. Also I think that someone with Helaena’s ability to retreat inside her own mind would be able to survive on Giedi Prime.

Your fate had been set in stone since your very conception, meant to mend the relationship between two houses that had been at war for centuries and bring forward the greatest mind the universe had ever seen. Jessica had trained you in the Bene Gesserit way since you were young, always believing that your bloodline would be famed for generations after.

But you didn’t want to be famed or revered or feared. You wanted nothing more than to be loved, completely loved. When you learned of your betrothed, there was a sadness that overtook you, an accepting that your husband may never truly love you. He was famed for his cruelty, his majesty in the arena and his fighting prowess. He was not known for his ventless and his love, no Harkonnen ever had been.

The first time you met eyes with your future husband, there was a silent understanding that passed between you two. He was a young boy, barely older than you and yet he looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps there could be a connection between you two, despite your afflictions.

Your father called it dreaming, ignoring whatever technical explanation your mother held. There were things you saw that no sane man could explain and yet they were always true. They came to you in the silent moments of the day, when you read or sketched. You had loved it growing up, seeing glimpses of things yet to come but as you grew, they only ever turned darker.

The diplomatic visit to Geidi Prime was short and yet long enough for you to spend a few hours alone with Feyd. There was an itching under your skin from being on the planet, a discomfort that lingered as you pushed down any dreams that threatened to reveal themselves.

You sat across from Feyd, your hands twisting in your lap.

“What do you like to do?” His voice was soft, always soft when he was with you but the sterness returned the moment someone else entered the room.

You wondered if someone had shared your condition with him. “I read. I draw.” Around him, you didn't feel the necessity to boast of your suitable talents your parents had raised you on. The itching had ceased, even if it was just for a moment. “You?”

“I fight- I'm good at fighting.” He corrected himself. For a moment it seemed like he was done talking, but then he met your gaze and continued. “I don't have much to time to do things I like.”

“Perhaps when we are wed, you will have time to explore things you enjoy.” You meant nothing by it, only that you hoped your husband could find a hobby not controlled or pushed onto him by his Uncle.

Feyd smiled in response and you got the distinct feeling that everything would be alright if you married him. But you could not marry him without guilt unless you told him yourself what you were.

“I dream.” You say, unsure of how to tell him.

Feyd was slightly amused, “You dream? I’m sure many do.”

“No.” You quickly reply. “I see things, visions almost. They are never truly clear, only glimpses of the future.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t want you to marry me if you didn’t know. I only hope you understand and do not judge me for something beyond my control.”

Feyd’s expression softened as he took stock of the panicked breaking out of your being. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

The hopefulness in your eyes glistened as you stood, offering Feyd a small bow before leaving the room and returning to your mother and father.

When your day of union arrived, it was a rather happy occasion. Your family smiled as you stayed by Feyd’s side, your hand twisted with his. There was a soft and genuine look of almost-love everytime he looked at you. All that look needed was time to evolve into true love that would pull him under without hesitation. Feyd would let himself be taken by everything you are and he would even beg for it. Your mother and father could see the affection you already shared and knew nothing would come between you.

The Baron, on the other hand, had indifference covering his face all day. This was not a joyous occasion, but a simple ceremony that had to be done in order to end the conflict he wanted to continue. However, this union would bring him more power than war would, and he would just have to accept that.

Feyd reached for two glasses and passed one to you, raising his in a toast. “To the rest of our lives?”

“To the rest of our lives.” You agreed, clinking your glass with his and taking a drink.

Once you had placed your glass back down, Feyd leant forward to capture your lips, letting his heart float like only you could make him. Your marriage was nothing more than picturesque. There was finally peace felt throughout the universe and yet there were some who were still not happy.

The Emperor, despite suggesting the match to weaken the houses and cause friction, watched as they came together in love and only grew stronger. The Atreides were a threat to his reign long before, but with the Harkonnens now as allies, there was nothing that could stop them if they desired his throne.

The final straw came when news of an heir flowed throughout the Imperium. The Atreides and Harkonnens would soon have an heir that would bind them with blood, for eternity.

Your husband had been even more protective of you since the beginning of your pregnancy, barely wanting to leave you alone. The dreams had shown you your daughter, a beautiful girl that was the mix of both you and Feyd. But there was one persistent dream that shook you to your core.

“Feyd?”

“Yes my love?” The nickname had never stopped, ever since the wedding.

“I'm afriad.”

Feyd's face flashed with confusion for a moment as his eyes darted around the room. “What are you afraid of my love? Our families are united, no one would dare stand against Harkonnens and Atreides united. The babe is well, she is growing stronger by the day.”

“There are snakes crawling through the city.” Your voice is a whisper, trembling with every word. You weren’t really aware of what your words meant, only repeating what your mind brought forward.

Feyd smiled at his wife’s words. “There are no snakes on Geidi Prime, my love. They cannot survive here.” He takes a seat next to you, pulling you closer to him as if to protect you.

“They will worm their way to our palace.”

“Then I will double our guard and order lockdown at the slightest threat.” He said it with such conviction that you were almost convinced.

“But-“

“What have I said?” Feyd asked you. “I would never let anything hurt you or our children. There is nothing that can get into our palace unless I will it.”

You let the dream sit in the back of your mind, pushing it away from thought but not forgetting. And it did you well not to forget when you couldn’t sleep one night and a echoing crash startled you. No one else awoke and you took the risk to glance outside your room, where your guards stood to attention.

“Is everything alright Na-Baroness?”

You forced a smile. “All is fine. Just… stay alert.” With nothing else to say, you turn and return to your bed.

Feyd was not disturbed but you found yourself reaching under his pillow to touch the knife he always kept there. It was a reassuring reminder that if your dream came true tonight, there was something Feyd could do. You lay, the blank ceiling taunting you and your ears hearing every footstep and breath people made.

It was only as you had begun drifting back to sleep that a muffled shout came from the hallway and your heart stuttered. You reached over, shaking Feyd awake as he quickly looked around before settling his eyes on your own frantic ones.

“What’s going on?”

Your breath trembled once more. “The snakes are here.”

At your words, Feyd reached for the knife and practically jumped out of bed, directing you to the corner of the room furthest from the door, furthest from harm. The thump of a body was heard and Feyd tightened his grip, activating his shield.

Two men, Imperial soldiers burst through the door and you caught sight of the bodies of two others as well as your guards. Terror gripped you, a hatred of blood instilled in you since you were a young girl. Your hand flew to your mouth as you shrunk into the corner even more, wishing the floor would swallow you up.

Feyd leapt forward, his body practised in fighting people at a moments notice. His knife carved flesh, splattering blood over the room. A small scream escaped your lips as the bodies crashed to the floor and your husband stood in the centre of your room, blood dripping from the knife still in his hand.

He turned to face you, throwing the knife across the room and rushing towards you. You practically threw yourself into his arms and he squeezed you close to his chest and rested his head on yours.

“You’re okay.” He said, letting you feel his steady heartbeat against your rapid one. “The snakes are gone.”

“The snakes-?”

“They’re gone. We’re okay.” He pulled away just enough to take your hand and pull it down to your stomach. “She’s okay, you’re okay. We are all okay. No one can hurt you.”

You let your panic settle and relax into his arms. Everyone’s alive. You can manage whatever comes next, you can let the snakes try but they will never be able to bite you.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

[dirkxcaliborn]

bro I hate geometry. I hate memorizing formulas. I hate calculating the dimensions of circles. Graphed lines are on thin fucking ice. The moment it stops feeling like logic puzzles and starts taking on a complex physical world relevance I can't stand that shit.

[ssahotchnerr]

Hello, I have a request. How about Aaron going costume shopping and Aaron loses her FOR A MINUTE before he finds her where all the princess and fairy costumes are. Like she is completely mesmerized by costumes that she doesn’t notice Aaron picking her up and saying “I’m reconsidering making you a leash kid, you know” but he doesn’t really mean it and she’s just pointing at a costume “I want this one, daddy!”

jumpscares

i changed this up a tiny bit but the overall concept is still there <33 cw; fem!reader, protective girl dad!aaron (small angst), jack calls reader mom, references to your usual cm violence, halloween and fluff!! wc; 1k

"Dad, c'mon." Jack whined in slight impatience and excitement, prying the door open and hanging back slightly on the handle.

"We can only move so fast bud." Aaron responded, maintaining his current pace. We as in Ellie. Her tiny legs limited her speed, she was practically skipping to keep up with just him. "The costumes aren't going anywhere."

With the holiday quickly approaching and Jack's insistent worries the cool costumes will be gone soon - while you ran necessary errands of your own, he had been tasked with taking the kids to the Halloween store.

Upon entering, Aaron lost Ellie's hand almost immediately as she halted, causing it to slip abruptly from his grasp.

She was frozen in place with her gaze directed forward, keeping a generous distance from the frightful animatronics greeting the three of them at the entrance.

A scowl was on her face; it didn't appear she wasn't necessarily scared, but a mix of disgust and worry were vividly present instead.

"They're not real sweetheart." Aaron tried to reassure, his gaze softening. "They're just decorations."

"I don't like that one." Ellie grabbed his hand, using her other to point at the menacing, horrific clown. "He looks mean."

"He does, doesn't he?" Aaron agreed, his mouth drawing into a pensive line as he played along. "But that's okay. They're meant to be for fun."

"They're not very fun."

The three began wandering through the display of frightful animatronics, led by Jack, a good idea in theory. Jack disciplinarily left Aaron's mouth a few times, as he attempted to get his sister to step on the sensors in order to get spooked.

Ellie ended up in his hold, gripping onto the collar of his t-shirt while Jack indulged himself in getting delightfully jumpscared. She merely watched, each burst of sound causing her to scoot closer into her father, more like her shield.

"Alright, let's find what we came here for." Aaron placed Ellie down, Jack beginning to browse as they reached the costumes. "It is a school night. We can't be out too late."

Selecting a costume, or even brainstorming an idea was bound to a lengthy task, the two of them utterly indecisive. Ellie adored every costume they passed, had to stop, look and point it out. Jack, on the other hand, was pursuing a more silent, observational strategy.

"Anything sticking out?"

"Maybe Spiderman?"

"You never stick to Spiderman." Aaron reminded him with a small smile, the fond memory of when Jack dressed up as him coming to mind - easily within his top five Dad moments of all time.

"Yeah... so maybe not that." Jack breathed out a huff, his eyes continuing to peer around. "Or we can all be superheroes." He poked an adult Batman costume, causing it to sway. "You can be this, and then Mom can be Wonder Woman or something."

Aaron nodded slowly, although he personally didn't plan on dressing up. But could he be persuaded by you and the kids? Maybe. "That could be fun."

"And then Ellie could be Spidergirl-"

Speaking of Ellie, she had grown suspiciously quiet - her chatter stopping altogether. Aaron's eyes shot down, only to find Ellie not besides him.

Jack was the one who verbalized it, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "Where'd Ellie go?"

Panic immediately swept through him, his heart rate heightening and his body succumbing to a numbing freeze. Fuck.

Suddenly, he didn't know whether or not his knowledge of child abductions were an advantage or disadvantage; knowing how to act quickly, but also the unfortunate outcomes.

his mind instantly shot to the conversations he had with victim's familiies with what felt like daily. The scenario had turned- he was in their shoes. And just as they all stated in their interviews: He should've been paying closer attention. He only looked away for a minute. He knew these things - why did he look away?

Attempting to push the statistics in the back of his mind, he was on the move, Jack following right at his heels.

"Ellie?"

Luckily the fear was short lived; she was two aisles over, captivated by the girliest costumes one could imagine, very Ellie-esque.

"Eleanor." Aaron breathed out in relief as he saw his piggytail-headed daughter, sweeping her right off her feet again. "You know better than to wander off."

"I wanna be this." Ellie pried a princess costume off the rack, Aaron paused as he lifted her so she could remove it successfully. "Can I Daddy? I really wanna."

"Well, let's make sure it's your size." He took it, doublechecking and allowing his heart rate to calm down. Upon confirmation, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you want to be this? Or do you want to be a superhero with Jack?"

"I wanna be a princess." Ellie insisted, a pleading tone within her voice. "Pretty please?"

"Sure, if that's what you want. We'll have to find you a crown too, or use one from home, it doesn't seem to be included." She nodded as Aaron tucked the packaging under his elbow, allowing him to hold both it and her. However, his demeanor switched over to one more serious. "But hey, look at me please."

Her adjacent brown eyes met his own; a touch of fault, and sincereness. She knew she had disobeyed in one way or another. And whenever she did, it was written all over on her face.

"No running off, okay?" He instructed sternly, but gently. "It's really important I can always see you, and you can always see me. We don't want you getting lost, yeah?"

She shook her head. "That would be bad."

"Very bad. Mom would not be happy with me if I came home without you." Aaron affirmed, eyebrows raised. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes we do." She replied cheerily, oblivious to the heart attack she had just given her father. "No running away."

"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, exhaling and the tension in his shoulders alleviating. Ellie was fine. No need for further panicking. Everything was fine.

And Jack, ever the dear, comically inputted, a witty grin plastered on his face. "Maybe Ellie should be the Flash instead."

[olderthannetfic]

Can someone tell me when/why calling everything you don't like or get triggered by is now called "squick" or "ick"? It sounds so strange and unnatural to me. If squick and trigger is the same why not say just trigger? This is a genuine question.

--

Ahaha.

Anon, my child, the main answer here is that you are probably 20 years too young.

--

The collapsing of 'trigger' into "Stuff I don't like and now you have to listen to me!!!" is obnoxious as hell. I don't think we need to police the boundaries of triggers, but the general concept is that something triggers and episode of PTSD (or, in another context, triggers an allergy or whatever). It doesn't mean the content is double plus bad: it means you have a medical type issue that is literally induced to flare up by encountering the thing.

--

'Squick' was all over Usenet when I was a young thing in the 90s. I gather it came out of BDSM circles originally. By the time I'd heard of it, it had already been co-opted by trolls to mean the sound of skullfucking. (That's the dick through eye socket or trepanning hole meaning, not the vigorous blowjob meaning.)

A squick is something that makes you go "Ew! Gaaah! Back button! Back button!" Like listening to the sound of brain matter squishing as a dick is forced into a skull, for example. Squick, squick, squick, squick.

It's more than just something you don't like: it's something that inspires a visceral "Get it away!" reaction.

The point of the term was and is to have a way to say that a kink grosses you out personally without implying that it is necessarily gross for others. It was useful for negotiating BDSM scenes and equally useful for talking about your fic preferences.

'Squick' was a staple of fandom jargon on Livejournal all through the 00s. Fans on Tumblr routinely say we should start using it more frequently again precisely to combat the flagrant misuse of 'trigger'.

--

"Ick" I've only seen much more recently in fandom, usually in the form of "__ gives me the ick". Urban Dictionary makes me think this has spread everywhere in the 2020s—perhaps via reality tv or twitter or something? I use it myself, but I couldn't tell you who I caught it from.

There are plenty of older definitions, and I do vaguely recall hearing "the ick" used in the early 00s as a general term for the flu/a passing virus/etc. 'Ick' as an exclamation and 'icky' as an adjective are just regular words. But this particular flavor of "the ick" does strike me as a newer fad even if there are a few old definitions that seem to match.

[chuluoyi]

studying for dummies

- fushiguro megumi x reader

you have an important exam coming up and are having a hard time to study. luckily, your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better

genre/warnings: college au, total fluff !!!

notes: i love writing college aus for megumi bc he never got the chance to in that cursed manga called jjk :') to the nonnie who asked for this, i knew i have to write it when i received your ask ehe <3

general masterlist

"Why is this so hard..."

Megumi turned to you, sliding his headphones off with a questioning look when he heard you sigh once again, plopping your head down on the textbook. "What if I don't make it? What if I have to repeat a year? Ugh..."

Megumi continued to stare at you, with a flat expression. "So long as you study, you'll pass."

You threw him a sullen look, irked. "I know that! But studying itself is hard!"

The graduation exam was fast approaching and everyone in your grade was losing their head for a reason. Well, not your boyfriend though. While you were busy cramming your poor brain with ethics and physics in his apartment, Megumi was leisurely stuffing his ears with his headphones and catching up to the latest chapter of his favorite manga, without any care of the impending doom.

"You have to take breaks," he scolded then, truly meaning well. "You can't go on without food or rest. And don't overthink it, I'm sure you'll—"

"That's easy for you to say, Megumi—you're a natural genius," you interjected, crestfallen. The stress of failing several tryouts just got to you before you realized it. "Unlike you, I'm a dummy. I have to actually study."

Megumi remained quiet, watching as you turned back to your textbook, determined to give it another shot. Seeing your discouraged expression, something in his heart softened slightly.

And in that moment, he knew what he had to do to lift your spirits up.

He walked over to the little kitchen in his apartment to whip you some lunch, and throughout it all, you were still fixated on your studies, occasionally talking to yourself.

"Can Yuji even solve this problem...? I can take being called dumb but surely I can't be worse than him!"

Megumi found it amusing that you used his best friend as your benchmark for passing. Your way of expressing it brought out a low chuckle from him. How adorable.

Many were wondering what made him to date you—Fushiguro Megumi was always on the top of his class, stoic and indifferent, while you were just... you, a go-getter with cheerful personality that made up most of your academic shortcomings.

To Megumi, you were like a ball of sunshine that he didn't know he needed though. And now, wanted to protect.

While you were still lost in your thoughts and tangled up in physics concepts, he came back to you, gently patting your shoulder. "Hey, I made lunch. Want to join me?"

And needless to say, your eyes lit up with literal stars as you whipped your head towards him. "Yeah!"

Seeing you that excited made something inside Megumi soar. He had always been fond of your smiling face. Watching the fatigue melted a bit from you as you sat down in front of him, a subtle smile found its way onto his lips as well.

"Ooh, hotpot! Megumi, thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Mmm! This is tasty!"

"Mm-hmm, have your fill."

You were giddy as you finished your lunch. It was evident that he had prepared the hotpot with your preferences in mind, choosing almost all of your favorite ingredients.

And you were feeling daring now that you knew that he was keeping you in his thoughts.

"Megumi, if I can score higher than 70% in that exam..." you started, smile gradually widening. "Can we celebrate it by going on an overnight trip to Kyushu afterwards? You know... just a little something to look forward to..."

Your boyfriend immediately fixed you with his unwavering gaze, even with his cheeks still filled with rice. But he didn't dwell on it long as he nodded lightly. "Sure."

"Really?!" you beamed, totally bursting with excitement. "Eeep! Megumi! You’re the best!"

How could he ever say no to you when your eyes were literally shimmering with glitters? Megumi never had it in him to. And hey, a trip for two to commemorate your graduation sounded so nice too, it was actually making him eager.

And so, with your tummy full and energy recharged, you enthusiastically redid your mock-up exam. And when you got 90% this time, Megumi actually initiated the first move and pulled you into his lap, giving you a light smooch on the cheek.

“Whoa...” you were so ready to tease him, poking his pink-tinted cheeks. “Do I get a kiss for every mock-up exam well done now?”

He huffed—flushing, turning away with slight frown. “To give you something to look forward to, remember?”

[grison-in-space]

wondering about whether you could rec some "romance is a social construct" texts? ofc it is, but i like having books and articles to reference/learn specifics from/see how these ideas have developed.

Sure! Here's a quick reading list. Bear in mind that I am not a professional historian and my reading on this subject is a little diffuse. I'm not tackling the behavioral ecology stuff right now because a) I don't have a more direct book rec off the top of my head than Evolution's Rainbow, which is not technically focused on social monogamy, and also b) I approach that whole field with my eyes wide open for people letting their own perspectives and cultural views get in the way of their observations of animals, and I do not have the energy to go deal with it right now.

If you're going to read two books, read these two:

Stephanie Coontz, Marriage, A History: how love conquered marriage. 2006. All of Coontz' work, having to do with the social construction of the family, is relevant reading to this question (and I'd also recommend The Nostalgia Trap, because the historical context of how we conceptualize families is a major part of the construction of romantic love), but this one is most focused on the social construction of romantic love specifically and what it has replaced. Coontz is, I will disclose cheerfully, a major formative influence on my thinking.

Moira Wegel, Labor of Love: The Invention of Dating. 2016. Exactly what it says on the tin; focuses more closely on the modern invention of dating and romance.

Other useful readings to help inform your understanding of different ways that various people have conceptualized sex, sexuality, society and long-term connection include:

George Chauncey, Why Marriage? 2015. Chauncey is best known for Gay New York, which also offers a useful history of the way that relationship models and social constructs for understanding homosexuality changed among men having sex with men c. 1900 to 1950. This book, published just before Obergefell v. Hodges, is a discussion of why contemporary queer rights organizations focused on same-sex marriage as an activism plank in the wake of AIDS organizing. I find it really useful to read queer history when I'm thinking about how we understand and construct the concept of romantic relationships, because queers complicate the mainstream, heteronormative concepts of what marriage and romantic relationships actually are. More importantly, queer activist organizing around marriage has played a major role in shaping our collective understanding of romance and marriage in the past twenty years.

Elizabeth Abbott, A History of Celibacy, 2000. In order to understand how various cultures construct understandings of marriage and spousal relationships, it can be illustrative to consider what the people who are explicitly not participating in the institution are doing and why not. I found this an interesting pass over historical and social institutions that forbid (or forbade) marriage with a discussion about general trends driving these institutions, individuals, and movements towards celibacy.

Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex, 2023. This is a very pointed historical look at gender roles, concepts of beauty, and concepts of sex, attraction, and marriage among medieval Europeans with an extended meditation on what ideas have and have not changed between that time and today. I include this work because I think a deep dive into medieval notions of courtly romance is useful, partly because it is an important origin of our modern notion of romantic love and partly because it is so usefully and starkly different from that modern notion! Sometimes the best way to understand the cultural construction of ideas in your own society is to go look at someone else's and see where things are the same versus different.

It's a mish-mash of recommendations, and I'm reaching more for books that have stuck with me over the years than a clean scholarly approach to the subject. I hope other folks will chime in for you with their own recommendations!