#there might be other examples but these are the two that i remembered

[utilitycaster]

can you explain what you mesn by monkey ladder in reference to the CR fandom? as someone from C1 i would probably be able to give you the insight you asked for in your tags but im unsure of the angle you are coming from.

Oh yeah, it describes a phenomenon I've repeatedly seen in all aspects of my life but I wasn't aware there was an idiom for it. Basically, it describes how communities/institutions continue following patterns of behavior even when said behaviors are in response to a no-longer relevant problem and even when the people who originated said behaviors and remember the original reason are gone.

So: imagine an experiment with five monkeys, a ladder, and bananas on top of the ladder. Whenever a monkey goes for the ladder to reach the bananas, a researcher sprays all the monkeys with ice water. After enough attempts, the monkeys, understandably, begin attacking any one of them that reaches for the ladder in order to avoid this punishment.

The researchers then swap out one of the monkeys for a new monkey. When the new monkey reaches for the ladder, the other monkeys attack them and prevent them from reaching it.

They then swap out another monkey, and when the second new monkey reaches for the ladder, not only do the other monkeys attack them - the first "new" monkey joins in. And so on. Eventually, you can reach a point where all five monkeys in the room have never even been sprayed with ice water. They don't know why they are attacking people who reach for the ladder other than that they were attacked for reaching for the ladder. And here's the kicker: the researchers haven't sprayed anyone in ages, and actually, they've turned off the water, and if someone reached for the ladder, they'd be fine. But they won't.

So it's about groups enforcing behaviors that arose in response to something specific that is no longer present, even after the group no longer recalls, necessarily, why it was present.

Anyway: as someone with the specific experience of watching campaign 1 and early campaign 2 concurrently, having started with Campaign 2, ie, joined the fandom in Campaign 2 and have been here ever since, the following viewpoints are all imo "monkey-ladder" problems: people carrying forward stereotypes/fandom behaviors that I think originated in Campaign 1 but which many new fans never actually experienced:

specifically the one I mentioned in my previous post - the idea that Sam and Travis make stupid joke characters and aren't taking this seriously. (This sometimes splits into Sam Makes Dumb Joke Characters And Travis Is Himself A Stupid Person. The latter has fortunately abated but it was still alive and kicking as late as early C3)

The idea that Marisha and Laura; or Taliesin and Liam, make characters with exceptional romantic chemistry with each other. (They didn't have this in C1 either; while chemistry is obviously a subjective metric I find these specifically two of the weakest cases of cast romantic chemistry and definitely the two weakest of same gender cast romantic chemistry but they were held up as the only viable PC/PC queer romances given that Ashley was often absent, Grog wasn't interested, and people wrote off Scanlan as a dumb joke and Tary came around after Percy and Vex were already together)

Any criticism of Marisha is Forbidden Forever due to the harassment she received in C1 (we got monkeys who joined the fandom mid-C3 beating up people who were like I'm Not Vibing With Laudna who had been staunch Keyleth defenders during the actual run of C1, for example)

I'm sure there's others that aren't coming to mind but this is a good starting point: basically, it's people who weren't in the fandom in C1 and might not even have seen Campaign 1 carrying over opinions that really only made sense in Campaign 1 and honestly weren't even good then.

For a fun interrogation of this (carryover of an opinion/behavior with no other reason than This Is What I Was Told When I Joined) within the context of an actual play, see Iga Lisowski in The Unsleeping City 2.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

What's to note about Sweden in Eurovision is that, for a lot of people when they're picking out songs to send, they don't care what Europe actually wants - they think about the song that has the highest chance to WIN.

And thus, we've reached a dilemma.

The most TRENDING melfest song right now, is this one

It has everything Eurovision WANTS us to send.

It's in swedish! We haven't send anything in Swedish for over 2,5 decades! And when we HAVE, the artists have chosen to sing in english once they reach eurovision even if they sang it in swedish in melfest

It's catchy! Easy to dance to!

Good time!

It's the top 1 trending song in Sweden AND in Finland

It shows a culture not too often represented: Finno-swedes! Sometimes people IN SWEDEN are not aware there is indeed swedish speaking finns, just like there is for example french speaking canadians. And they have their own dialects, phrases and culture.

YKSI KAKSI KOLME SAUNA

However?

It will not win Eurovision (probably)

Some snobby elitist melfest fans (SORRY TO YOU GUYS BUT YOU ARE) thinks if we send something like this we will "embarrass ourselves". And we can't do that! We need to "show the world that Sweden is the biggest music export by getting good scores all the time!" (to which I say yes?? but we can also show some DIVERSITY in our songs???)

And there is the song that people think would most likely WIN the whole esc if we send it:

It's Måns Zelmerlöw, so we know he's good at what he's doing!

The performance is nicely done!

However:

Is the song that good??? Do you remember the song, like, at all? No, you get fooled by the STAGE PERFORMANCE. And sure, it does elevate the song, but not so much that I personally would want to vote for it.

Does my fellow Swedes honestly to god not know that esc people are tired of Måns Zelmerlöw? He kept showing up year after year in esc somehow, either as a middle act or as a sketch or something. He was always there.

If he wins melfest I'm honestly gonna be scared every time time he gets a good score in esc. I don't wanna live through that again. People say "don't care about the haters just enjoy your country winning" and I'm sorry but I CAN'T enjoy it if I know everyone else is mad - I also can't enjoy it when I know I didn't even vote for them to represent us. THAT to me is more embarrassing than sending a more "fun" entry that might not get as high of a jury score.

Personal opinion: I already think there's better songs in esc I think should win

Personal opinion: I do not agree that Måns' entry is better than anyone else this year. There are better songs in MELFEST already that I will vote for in the finale. Not only KAJ, but several others too.

Personal opinion: I'm not a fan of Måns' song and I don't get fooled by the "cool effects". It worked with Heroes, because he did something new with that little animated blob. It doesn't really work here for me. At all.

I do not want to experience 2023 again. Now 2 years later I feel like... fine. Loreen is Loreen. She's an icon nonetheless. MÅNS... is not her. He's more like Charlotte Perelli, Alexander Rybak or Carola: Appreciated as artists, but it definitely did not go as well for them when they came back to esc after already winning once. And I HOPE this is the fate Måns also would face.

Personal opinion: I think Sweden should chill with winning :) That was NOT a popular opinion when I said so on instagram, another Swede told me that I needed to understand that this was a COMPETITION and that we need to strive for the BEST all the time.

My thoughts on this is NOT so much that I've "fallen for the haters who hate Sweden and its success". It's the fact that during the last ten years, I've only liked TWO melfest winners. The rest I did not want to win, and thus I AGREE with Europe when they think we send generic pop songs, and I don't like them being rewarded because I didn't like them in the first place. And I want my country to send something different and FUN for ONCE, but we DON'T. The closest we got was Cornelia Jakobs in 2022. She was a LITTLE different, and I genuinely liked that. And I mean... Loreen IS Loreen, even though I did feel already in melfest that it was a little unfair because I did like some other songs more.

And so now, we have two teams here in Sweden: Those who think Måns absolutely is the only choice, nothing else will do, and we will win esc with him again. Best produced song, nothing else can top it. These people can sometimes come off as snobby and even sometimes a bit elitist in some extreme cases, even though a lot of them only are normal people who had been driven into this mindset.

And the other team is more like me: We should send something like KAJ! Or another little "different" that's already in our finale! Because we AGREE that we for once should see what EUROVISION wants rather than what the JURIES wants. No one likes the juries anyway. They didn't let Yohio win melfest in 2013 guys. Come on. It was their fault we didn't send a visual kei guy to eurovision and instead sent boring Robin Stjernberg.

Even NEWS SITES and podcasts has started discussing this. How the Swede is so predictable and rather wants to send the "safe card" than trying something new.

It's 2 weeks left until we have a finale. And I personally would not send Måns. But the songs I often want to win never win. And I think we keep sending generic pop songs because IT WORKS. It's not so fun for for the esc fans, but it works competition wise. And Swedes have sadly taken this competition too seriously, and forgotten to have fun. And maybe I am a part of that, since I seem to care so much about this I'm being so negative.

But, I will say: In 2023, the whole country was pretty much in agreement that Loreen will win melfest, the end. This year... I feel like we're more divided about this. And I think a bigger part of us will be disappointed to see Måns win melfest, both due to how we know Europe will react, but also because we genuinely don't think this song is that good. And it's a SONG contest at the end of the day, even though some argue "Well! But it's nicely produced!!!! Isn't the staging cool???" Yeah. But the song is the one you're gonna listen to, and... the song I think most people would rather LISTEN to is Bara Bada Bastu. But many people also think "they won't win anyway", and that can sadly also stop some people from even voting. "Why vote, when they won't win anyway? I don't want Måns to win but he's probably gonna win anyway, whatever :/" Not if we try to vote for others!!!

I myself in the finale will vote for Klara Hammarström, Greczula, KAJ, and if Scarlet comes to the finale this time, which I think they will, I will vote for them too. I think I'm even gonna give some few votes to Maja Ivarsson and Annika Wikihalder. There's PLENTY of other people in the finale I'd be perfectly fine and not too disappointed with if they won - especially if they NEVER HAVE WON BEFORE.

I won't vote for Måns. Both because, he's probably gonna get votes anyway, he doesn't need mine :/ And also because I just... don't like the song. Everyone can have a good scene performance with cool effects, smoke, blah blah... but that can't ONLY be it. I've seen that so many times and I'm not fooled by it.

If Måns wins melfest, it's up to Europe what to do. We can't vote for our own country in esc. So it's just up to you then to vote, or NOT vote. Remember the semifinals are all televote. You can choose to feed our ego again so that we keep sending the same thing again because it works, or you can decide not to.

[elleldoe]

I don't mind at all! I love a good discussion and you made some really good points 💛​

Absolutely, a fic doesn't have to meet all those criteria to be enjoyable, obviously nuance is important here, everyone has preferences, but imo the beauty of fanfiction lies in the creative freedom that comes with it, compared to, for example, traditional publishing that has to follow strict rules. I can't for the life of me remember what the fic was called or who the author was, but I remember reading a oneshot years ago that was part of a writing challenge that didn't allow spell-check or rewriting, so it was riddled with typos, etc. Now, was it good by traditional standards? No. Was it a brilliant piece of art that made my day? Yes!

Tags and summary are the two main factors in my decision-making process. Usually the tags leave me with only a handful of works anyway, or I don't even get as far as narrowing it down because there's only a handful to begin with. Here it might be worth noting that both the things I write, and the things I actively seek out to read, are niche (fandom and/or themes). I have reread my own work countless times simply because I filtered and lo and behold I'm in the only one in the tags (or close to). The other thing would be recommendations, as you've mentioned, people with similar tastes actively recommending works, or passive recommendations by means of bookmarks, reading other works by the same writer, etc.

I definitely see your point on how additionally filtering by kudos/bookmarks/etc., helps when there are lots of works to chose from, tho.

Overall, the idea that things need to be popular to be good, or, on the flipside, that things have to be a certain level of good simply because they reach a certain level of popularity, isn't new, but I feel like there has been an increase in that mentality in fandom spaces over the last years.

This might be a controversial take, but as much as I love Ao3 and consider it superior to other fanfiction sites out there, there is one thing that FFnet did better. Public vs. private stats. I love how the hit count isn't public, only comments, favs, and follows are. And, I love kudos on Ao3, but imo they shouldn't be public either.

[rainhadaenerys]

There's an interesting example of Dany misremembering things, which shows how GRRM cares to write how people's memories can be fallible. Quaithe's prophecy to Dany is this:

Dany's wrist still tingled where Quaithe had touched her. "Where would you have me go?" she asked.

"To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow." - Daenerys III ACOK

But in ADWD, Dany remembers it wrong:

"I remember the way. I go north to go south, east to go west, back to go forward. And to touch the light I have to pass beneath the shadow." She squeezed the water from her silvery hair. "I am half-sick of riddling. In Qarth I was a beggar, but here I am a queen. I command you—" - Daenerys II ADWD

Though later she is reminded again of the correct prophecy in her dreams:

She dreamed. All her cares fell away from her, and all her pains as well, and she seemed to float upward into the sky. She was flying once again, spinning, laughing, dancing, as the stars wheeled around her and whispered secrets in her ear. "To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward, you must go back. To touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow." - Daenerys X ADWD

We also have another example of this with Arya misremembering the name of Joffrey's sword:

"You're safe with me." Joffrey drew his Lion's Tooth from its sheath. The sound of steel on leather made her tremble. "This way," he said, riding through a stand of trees. - Sansa I AGOT

~

"That's a lie!" Arya squirmed in Harwin's grip. "It was me. I hit Joffrey and threw Lion's Paw in the river. Mycah just ran away, like I told him." - Arya VI ASOS

[jellyloveru]

ough. little known book series. ough

[whirlybirbs]

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[drchucktingle]

a moment to check the gears and cogs

feel like i want to talk a little on the message of a recent post because i think it is an important point. when i say that you do not need to QUALIFY OR DEFEND your love of tinglers or my work in general, i am pointing out an interesting social anomaly that happens with my art and with queer art.

as an autistic buckaroo i notice patterns, and on social media i see them a lot. little phrases that come up again and again with my art. ‘yes THAT chuck tingle’ ‘its ACTUALLY good’ ’my favorite author i have never read’ ‘so bad its good’. these are always added after a POSITIVE comment about me

they also all have something in common. they are trying to distance the posters SINCERE JOY and give them an out socially. it is very very very subtle, but they are all saying ‘yes i like this but here is a sliver of acknowledgment that it is also weird or bad or ironic. in not REALLY fully in'

essentially these are added because it means the poster can escape their very real joy if needed. try applying these phrases to any other popular author. its much more subtle with the first two: ‘i liked all fours by miranda july, yes THAT miranda july. its ACTUALLY good’. what does this imply?

the other examples are a little more blatant but lets try them with other authors anyway. imagine saying ‘youre my favorite author i have never read’ to stephen king. would you EVER say that to someone? what does that imply? how about 'i love your books theyre so bad theyre good'. horrifyingly rude

lets dive into saying 'CHUCK TINGLE is my favorite author i have never read’ sounds unusual when substituting other authors because theyre usually not queer or autistic or making outsider art. to be blunt, why CHUCK gets it all the time is because it really means 'i like chuck tingle but im not gay’

while we have mostly culturally evolved past the idea that saying ‘no homo’ is some kind of joke, that FEELING is still around. it has just burrowed a little deeper. honestly it might never go away, or at least take centuries. remember these people GENUINELY LIKE MY BOOKS but feel they MUST qualify

should also be pointed out that LEFT and LIBERAL people are the ones who say this stuff to chuck. they do not MEAN to harm, and if you ask them directly how they feel about queer or neurodivergent people they would not express the same opinion as their subliminal comments might imply

the final elephant trotting by is while some of this is homophobia and fear of a neurodivergent other, it is also just plain old IRONY POISONING. its conditioning from being raised on an internet where sincerity was ‘cringe' and loving something was a weakness or joke. these problems work in tandem

so whats the point? what can we do? first of all, just recognizing these patterns is a start. i didnt HAVE to write all of this today but i think its important to be aware and to look inward and think about the gears and cogs that churn behind the things we say. NEXT step is trying to push past it

if you have done these things in the past, i want you to know i am NOT AT ALL UPSET. i am not mad or hurt and i do not think any less of you. you can trot by my side any day and you are trying your best to prove love. we are ALL just tryin our best, just consider this a friendly chat between buds

proving love can happen in BIG WAYS and it can happen in SMALL WAYS that we barely see. just take a moment and think ‘WHY am i saying this? WHY am i in this pattern to distance myself from outsider or queer art?’ a little moment of consideration goes a LONG way buckaroos. LOVE IS REAL

[anexperimentallife]

Project 2025 would ban anything the far right considers pornography. The far right considers anything queer-positive to be pornography, and they WILL encode that into law if given just a TINY bit more power.

Have queer fanfic (or trad published literature) or pics of your transition, or of two men kissing, saved to your hard drive? If the GOP get their way, you'd be guilty of possession of pornography. Did you share any of it? You'd be guilty of distribution of pornography. Have a sweet coming of age story with a queer protagonist? That'd be child pornography.

Even now, states are trying to make it a crime to be openly queer in public (by, among other things, classifying dressing as the "wrong gender" anyplace kids might see as a sex crime against children). Oh, and Florida tried (and thankfully failed) to impose the death penalty for the above.

This is just one example of the horrors awaiting us if the project comes to fruition.

And the far right is already screaming that any adult who mentions around kids that queer people exist is "grooming" children. Wear your Pride shirt past a playground? You're now a child groomer. Think they won't put that into law if allowed? You're naive.

The GOP currently controls the Supreme Court (which is how they overturned Roe v. Wade) and has a majority in one branch of congress. Imagine what will happen nationwide with the GOP controlling every branch of government, including supermajoroties in both houses of Congress.

Oh, and top GOP officials have also announced their desire to NUKE Gaza, so don't come at me with, "but I can't vote blue because Biden..." Or tell me how you think Gaza would somehow be better off with Trump and the GOP.

In France, the left and center joined together--even though they disagree vehemently on many issues (get two leftists together and they'll have three positions on any issue)--to stop the far right from totally taking over, because the one thing they ALL agree on is that fascists dictatorships are BAD.

Much the same with the UK finally kicking out their own neo-fascist party, the Torries, to install 400 Labour MPs. Not everyone loves Labour's policies, but virtually everyone with a brain cell recognizes that the Torries are fascists, and that FASCISM BAD.

"Every election, they tell us this is the most important election if our lives!" Yeah, because each election over the past several decades has been more important than the one before, until we are now at a tipping point between remaining a fucked up oligarchy with SOME resemblance to freedom, and an outright neo-fascist military dictatorship.

Trump has literally stated publicly his intent to criminalize dissent, use US armed forces against protesters (Kent State, but multiply it by thousands), purge all agencies and stuff them with those personally loyal to him, and use the DOJ to go after anyone he perceives as a threat to his political power, among other things.

And remember the things he did in office, like pulling the teeth of federal workplace protections for queer folks (which Biden reatored).

I don't care if you don't like Biden or Harris. Neither do I. But the alternative is Trump, and anyone telling you not to vote in 2024, or to vote third party, is rooting for Trump, and for Project 2025. Anyone telling you not to vote does not give one single solitary flying fuck about vulnerable populations in the US or anywhere else in the world.

"You're just being an alarmist!" Right. Like I was being alarmist when I predicted the failed Jan 6 coup attempt. Like I was being alarmist when I said the GOP would try to use control over SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade.

Fucking vote.

[tender-rosiey]

smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3

gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.

some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.

your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.

the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.

skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.

he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”

satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“

now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.

so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.

whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.

you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”

“I! am! trying!��� he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.

you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”

almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”

she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.

you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”

it honestly kind of adds up.

you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.

satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”

“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”

and he can’t.

no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.

that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).

however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.

it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.

satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.

yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.

your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.

nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.

the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”

and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”

you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.

ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.

and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.

your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     

then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.

now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”

yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”

it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.

and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”

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[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[prokopetz]

You know a lot about the cultural influences behind various aspects of D&D, so: do you know the origins of the thing in 3.5 where it seems like a main way they want you to play as a psionic warrior is to grow massive claws and get breath weapons? It's so specific and out of left field for a "warrior who uses the power of the mind" that I've always wondered.

Much of 3E's handling of psionics closely follows material presented in the 2E supplement The Complete Psionics Handbook, which, contra later editions' habit of treating psionics as a variant of wizardly magic, presents psionics as a totally separate and mutually incompatible thing. One feature of this treatment is psionics having its own distinct set of "schools", or disciplines: clairsentience, psychokinesis, psychometabolism, psychoportation, telepathy, and metapsionics.

The 3E psionic warrior stuff is a more or less direct port of the discipline of psychometabolism; I can only presume that this is because it's the most "fightery" of the Psionics Handbook disciplines, though I can't back that guess up. Apart from your cited examples, other psychometabolic powers presented here include self-healing; energy absorption; turning into animals, objects, or living shadows; wuxia-style "lightfoot" techniques; camouflage; shrinking or expanding; stretching one's limbs Mister Fantastic style; and others.

Of course, that just kicks the can further down the road: if the 3E psionic warrior is a port of 2E's psychometabolism specialist, where the heck did 2E get the idea for the discipline of psychometabolism? The general idea of shape-shifting and fire-breathing and such being psychic powers that can be cultivated through mental discipline pops up in quite a few places, but we're looking for a specific constellation of tropes, not isolated instances of little bits and pieces of it.

The Complete Psionics Handbook helpfully includes a comprehensive bibliography of its inspirations (remember when Dungeons & Dragons used to have those?), though I'm unacquainted with most of the books it cites, so that's where my ability to help in this respect ends. I'll include a copy of that bibliography under the cut, though – maybe one of this blog's followers can point out which of its entries, if any, might be most directly informative.

Taken from page 113 ("Related Reading") of The Complete Psionics Handbook:

Fiction

Bester, Alfred; The Demolished Man, The Stars My Destination.

Bradley, Marion Zimmer; Darkover series: The Bloody Sun, Children of Hastur, Darkover Landfall, The Forbidden Tower, Hawkmistress!, The Heritage of Hastur, The Keeper's Price, The Planet Savers, Sharra's Exile, The Shattered Chain, The Spell Sword, Star of Danger, Stormqueen!, The Sword of Aldones, Thendara House, Two to Conquer, The Winds of Darkover, The World Wreckers.

Brunner, John; The Whole Man.

Del Rey, Lester; Pstalemate.

Henderson, Zenna; The People, The People: No Different, Holding Wonder.

Foster, Alan Dean; Flinx series.

King, Stephen; The Dead Zone.

Kurtz, Katherine; Deryni Rising, Deryni Checkmate, High Deryni.

May, Julian; Saga of the Pliocene Exile series: The Many-Colored Land, The Golden Torc, The Non-Born King, The Adversary.

Nourse, Alan E.; Psi High and Others.

Pohl, Frederik; Drunkard's Walk.

Russell, Eric Frank; The Mindwarpers.

Robinson. Frank M.; The Power.

Schmitz, James H.; The Universe Against Her, The Lion Game, stories.

Simmons, Dan; Carrion Comfort.

Sturgeon, Theodore; The Synthetic Man.

Tucker, Wilson; Wild Talent.

Van Vogt, A.E.; Slan.

Zelazny, Roger; Creatures of Light and Darkness, The Dream Master, Lord of Light, lsle of the Dead, This Immortal, To Die in ltalbar.

Nonfiction

Brookesmith, Peter (ed.); Strange Talents, from the series "The Unexplained: Mysteries of Mind, Space, and Time;" Orbis Publishing, London, 1983.

Index of Possibilities: Energy and Power; Pantheon Books/Random House, New York, New York, 1974.

Mind Over Matter, Powers of Healing, Psychic Powers, Psychic Voyages, from the series "Mysteries of the Unknown;" Time-Life Books, Alexandria, Virginia, 1987.

Puharich, Andrija; Beyond Telepathy; Anchor Press/Doubleday, Garden City, New York, 1973.

Rhine, J.B.; The Reach of the Mind; William Sloane Associates, New York, New York, 1947.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

how do you think leona would do if he falls in love?

Here are my thoughts in bullet-point/headcanon form for ease of reading! Key word there being my thoughts. (There will of course be different interpretations based on who you ask this question to.)

Standard disclaimer: These points are nothing more than my opinions and I am NOT saying my opinions are any more or less valid or “correct” than yours. Please, I’m not pre-book 1 Riddle/j It’s fine to have other takes; just remember to be mindful in how you communicate differences in opinion.

To start with, here's how I think Leona would deal with the experience of first love:

Firstly, I definitely feel that Leona is the type of person to not easily fall in love. There are many examples in canon of Leona rejecting the love he receives from others, whether it be from his own family (Cheka, Falena), dorm members (Ruggie, Jack, Savanaclaw mobs, etc.), or other peers. Even though he desires others’ approval and praise, he also simultaneously believes the compliments are insincere or that he may not be deserving or worthy of it, that he hasn’t “earned” it. It’s also difficult for him to be emotionally vulnerable with others, and I feel that this would extend to romantic circumstances.

Continuing from the previous point, I think it’d be a slow burn. Like, the feelings develop gradually and manifest in small but increasingly more forward-facing ways like his gaze lingering for a second or two longer than usual, him getting slightly irritable when he smells (I 100% believe that smell is a Big Thing for beastmen) some other guy on the object of his affections, or simply… his mind wandering to them, maybe in a daydream.

A lot of it is Leona musing about the situation and then being in denial. He’s not so oblivious as to ignore what are clearly blossoming feelings, but he's not so hasty as to act on them right away. He'd sit with those feelings, examine them, question them. What is it that he is experiencing and why, how did things come to this, etc. He may even try to convince himself it's a phase or he's "too good" for this or he's "above" this. Really takes a long time to wrestle with his emotions and to sort them out. And then when he has come to his conclusion, he might not be very pleased with it because (as I said before), he has self-esteem and self-worth issues despite outwardly presenting himself as confident and in-charge.

For a while, he keeps his distance and observes. He’s nothing if not a big cat biding his time, keeping an eye on his prey until—BAM! Down comes his paw, ensnaring the mouse. It's like a game of chess or... cat and mouse. You have to watch your opponent and predict their moves, then plan your own moves two or three or more steps ahead of them. He'd want to gauge if they're already taken, if they seem to express an interest in him too, what they like and dislike, information like that. The last thing Leona'd want to do is charge in, guns blazing, only to be rejected and have his pride hurt.

He may also go out of his way to test the object of his affections by purposefully engineering scenarios to see how they react. At first, it's subtle things that could easily be passed off as coincidence or happenstance. For example, maybe Leona would accidentally bump his shoulder against yours or as he's walking by his tail flicks you. That's just the start though. He'd put more pressure on over time. Like he'd be more confrontational, putting himself in your path as some obstacle to overcome, still being sort of an asshole to see how you handle yourself around him.

Leona tells himself he has the upper hand, and he's usually pretty consistent about hiding his feelings to that end. It might peek through here and there, but they easily read as him being tsundere as per usual. I think that would be his way of coping, because deep down he doesn't want to admit that a part of him is scared to feel this way. It's something else he could fail at, someone else he could frighten away or destroy.

With time, I think he'd become more confident. He has a better grasp of the other person, he's been able to sort out his thoughts. But the thing is, his pride is still a major deterrent. Instead of coming out and saying it, it would become another game. If you've ever read or watched Kaguya-sama: Love is War, it'd be similar to that. Leona would push for the other person to be the one to fall for him and confess first. Part of it is he's kind of afraid to be so emotionally vulnerable, part of it is that he's desperate to be wanted and needed by others, and part of it is that he feels he needs to "earn" that love by winning you over. He wants that sweet, sweet validation from you. He wants YOU to choose HIM.

I think he expects a certain amount of push and pull. If the game's too easy for him, the (psychological) hunt loses some of its thrill. I think he'd also be the type to seek a partner that isn't just a blind yes man (despite him giving off the vibes that he wants to be in total control, especially in his own dormitory); they should be able to keep him on his toes one way or another, and they shouldn't idolize him in a really unrealistic way--because then he worries what would happen if they learn about his flaws. Would they see him differently? Reject him? Etc.

It'd take a considerable amount of time and effort, but slowly he'd let the walls around his heart down to let you in--but ONLY if you pass his tests and prove that you can be loyal, trustworthy, and cognizant + accepting of all his flaws. He has high standards, so he's pretty picky about who he allows to be by his side. I don't think he'd be happy having to like... put in a fake "perfect prince" act or airs for someone else. Pretending to be someone you're not in order to have love might be just another source of stress for him.

He would take a more aggressive approach if the object of his affections makes it obvious that they return his feelings. More "accidental" touching (but of course nothing that breaches into something they find discomforting), intentionally dropping phrases that come off as flirtatious, demanding to spend more time together, etc.

If they're not into it, he'd respectfully back off. However, that won't stop him from moping about it in private later.

Then, assuming a scenario in which he and the person he's romantically interested in get together/start formally dating:

I think he'd be a lot more blatant and shameless about "showing off" his affections and/or the relationship in general. Overt flirting at this point, casually laying his head on the shoulder or wrapping an arm or tail around you, etc. Who cares who sees? Let them know you're already taken.

Oh yeah, he's really into physical touch (within whatever limits you deem to be acceptable; he respects your autonomy). Cuddles while napping, hand holding, head pats, listening to your heartbeat, etc. It grants him a sense of security that you're like... physically there with him.

I think words of affirmation are also up there, however I don't think he would appreciate it if it's like... overdone. Too many compliments might start to feel disingenuous or even smothering after a while (what comes to my mind specifically is how he reacts negatively or with denial to his brother, Cheka, Kifaji, and even his own dorm members praising him).

As I mentioned earlier, I think there'd be a lot of banter and teasing; Leona strikes me as someone who likes to toy with his pre or puts up a fight; he still has his pride and won't take sass lying down, he'd definitely retaliate but in a playful way.

Slightly whiny and needy. Key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to go full yandere on you. I believe that Leona would be somewhat insecure about the relationship and wants you to validate him with your presence. Like, if you're lying down somewhere and try to get up to leave... he might pout and be all dramatic about it, maybe throw in a sarcastic line about how he's "a delicate prince" and how he'll "wither like a flower" without you.

Slightly possessive. Again, the key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to restrict your movements or demand complete control of your life. However, he might sulk if he like... sees some other guy hovering or getting handsy, obviously making you uncomfortable. (If it's a particularly bad day for him, Leona might get intrusive thoughts about being the "second pick" and his partner leaving him for some "better" guy.) We've already seen he can get pretty territorial when it comes to Savanaclaw and the Botanical Garden, so I think at some point he'd also step in to intimidate people he feels are becoming a problem for his S/O. It's not the case for every situation though; his partner should be able to handle themselves or let him know when he's overstepping.

I think he'd be a little more tolerant of things his partner pulls. They're the one exception for certain things, like touching his ears or being more willing to listen to their requests to go to class or to try this new vegetable.

He'd try to distance his S/O from his family, especially in the beginning. Leona would tell them he doesn't think they're ready to meet the royal family yet (especially knowing the rocky relationship he has with his family), but really a lot of this stems from his pride. Falena, for example, honestly might make him look uncool by infantilizing his "baby bro".

Leona doesn't really go out of his way to plan grand gestures (he's not Kalim). If he does anything "big", it's probably like sending Ruggie to your doorstep with fancy flowers and a notecard or something. What he values isn't the "frivolous" stuff, but spending quality time together (even if it's doing nothing in particular). Might still spoil you on, say, special occasions, but he generally dislikes making a big deal of these things.

I think he'd be into you wearing his clothes. It's an easy visual indication that you're intimate enough to do this, but also it cloaks you in his smell so every other beastman in the immediate vicinity also knows you're "marked". Leona tosses his unworn blazer over you, casually saying, "Keep it."

Speaking of!! I think he’d also really like the idea of marking (bites, scratch marks, etc.) or scenting his partner. Just animalistic stuff like that, y’know. I’m sure he could hold himself back if they’re not comfortable with these aspects.

I do believe he has the capacity to be very sappy, but I don't think he'd want to be at this level all of the time. It would probably be limited to private settings and done sparingly, sort of like a treat?? Cuz if he does it too often, then it might lose its "special" feeling, and I also feel like he wouldn't be open to being all squimshy 24/7. Usually his sappiness is sarcastic.

Going to keep it 100 here, he's going to be more vulnerable around you (especially in private), and that means potential traumadumping. That's not to say that he'd do it super frequently to go into full-blown details, but his S/O would be one of the few people he feels comfortable enough with to open about his deepest insecurities and fears. He sometimes needs someone to hear him out, a shoulder to cry on, etc. Of course, he's not going to treat his partner like an unpaid therapist. Leona just... needs some extra support every now and again, reminders that he's doing fine, you know??

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Leona being in love would NOT smooth out all the rough edges to his personality. He's not going to white knight/act like you constantly need his protection, he's not going to bend over backwards and do anything and everything his partner asks of him. He still has a will and he can and will disagree or argue if he's opposed to something. He'll still let you handle yourself as needed.

Leona being in love would also NOT magically cure him of his personal issues and struggles. This is also true of the other characters who have deeply rooted trauma, but I feel this point should be included as a reminder anyway. It's of course not his entire personality, but his past experiences will impact how he interprets and reacts to things in present day (hence him being needy/wanting validation, etc.).

Like all relationships (whether romantic or platonic), it would not be flawless. There will be highs and lows, fights and disagreements, etc. This is normal in any relationship; what matters is that you're able to be mature enough to patch things up afterwards and learn from those rough patches.

[preiyers]

♱ TAKE A CHANCE — LUIGI MANGIONE X READER

SUMMARY: your friend group takes a trip to the beach during summer break and one night, luigi just takes the chance to tell you how he feels.

WARNINGS: friends to lovers, making out, humping in the hot tub

A/N: i'll be using random names for their friends and a part of this is inspired by a scene in to all the boys i've loved before and this post

show a little loving, shine a little light on me

you and your friends have been staying at the beach for almost a week now. you'd be leaving in two days.

the six of you were currently finishing dinner and then planning on walking around the beach and getting ice cream, but things changed when the group insisted on resting and staying in the hotel instead.

as the group walked back, luigi was getting teased by the guys as you walked with the girls of the group, looking around the beach and talking.

"come on man, just take the chance while we're still here and tell her how you feel." marcus tells him and he just shrugs.

"i don't know, it might change things." luigi says with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. he was interested in you the moment you asked him for help on a computation — the way your eyes lit up when he said he'd help you and how happy you got when he gave you an example and you got it right.

he still remembered.

little did he know, the girls were also giving you the same talk.

"you never know y/n, it could be a good type of change!" they all agreed as one of the girls nudged you.

as you guys walked, you came across a souvenir shop. you stayed outside, looking up at the sky as the wind blew your hair. marcus gives luigi a look to hang back and stay with you which he was already going to do.

“hey,” luigi said from behind, startling you a bit which makes you jump. “i didn’t mean to scare you.” you both chuckle.

it was quiet between you two for a moment. you didn’t know what to say, how to start the conversation and so did he. the sound of the waves crashing and the rustling of leaves filled your ears.

until he spoke again. “are you okay?” he turns his head to look at you, inching a bit closer.

you could see from your peripheral vision that he was looking at you so you turned to completely face him. you just smile in response and nod.

“just thinking about how we have to go back to uni after all this,” you sighed, looking back up at the sky and crossing your arms. “i don’t know, i’m gonna miss it,” you glance back at him and he was still looking at you. the look he was giving you was something you’ve never seen before, it was unreadable but it made you feel something at the pit of your stomach. “i’m gonna miss everything.”

it felt like there was a magnet pulling the two of you closer and closer or if the tiredness was just getting to you and you were imagining things.

“i get that, nights where we’d just spend having fun together and not stressing over assignments,” he said softly, placing an arm on your shoulder, pulling you even closer. “i wish we could stay here forever.” he looks down at you and your heads are closer now.

tracy, one of your friends looked out for you guys and told your friends about it which got them to all smile at the pair of you, giving each other knowing looks. “it’s so happening,” marcus mouthed at the group.

you smile up at him, you notice he’s looking between your eyes and your lips. your stomach churns and immediately break away, afraid of what could possibly happen and your friends could be watching.

“we… we should head back, they’re probably looking for us.” you force out a laugh, rubbing your hand on your forearm.

after the group was done checking out the souvenir shop, all of you went back to the hotel. you and luigi not speaking a word at all. they all noticed and tried to get one of you two to talk but just got smiles from the two of you.

“i’m gonna stay in the jacuzzi for a while, you guys can go.” luigi tells the group once you’ve reached the hotel.

his gaze finds you, but your head was down, not wanting to look into his eyes. you could feel the awkwardness in the group and some of your friends glancing between you and luigi.

he sighs and parts ways with the group.

no one spoke during the elevator ride and when you guys were walking to your rooms. until tracy reached for your arm. “what happened?” she pulled you back from entering your room.

you shrug, “i don’t know. we were talking, it was good and then i felt like something was going to happen,” you looked down, playing with your fingers. “i got scared.”

she places a hand on your shoulder as a way to comfort you. “aw hun, it’s alright.“ she pulls you into a hug and then continues speaking. “but you do know, that boy does like you, and i don’t know exactly when it started, but i know he’s liked you for a while now.” the two of you pull away and she couldn’t read the expression on your face.

“i should go to him,” she nods at you. “you think he’s still there” you ask and she instantly nods, removing her hands from your body.

“yes go right now, you got this!” she says, gently pushing you to leave.

you rush to the elevator, press the button quickly, looking up which elevator is closest to your floor level. once an elevator opened, you immediately went in and pressed the button to the floor. you mentally prepared yourself for what you’d say to him.

luigi, i like you. no. that was too forward. luigi, remember when we-

the elevator doors open which cuts your inner monologue off. you focused on your breathing as you walked to the area where the pool and jacuzzi were.

and there he was. his arms up on the tub’s rim, back facing you. as you walked, it was like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest any moment.

“hey,” you said softly, him now being the one startled.

he turns his neck to look at your figure, going closer to the tub.

“hi.” he responds with a small smile on his face.

you walk to where the ladder was, climbing and sitting on the edge of the tub, taking off your shorts to put your legs in.

“i’m surprised you’re here,” he says, looking down at the pool then up at you. “thought i made you upset or something.”

you look away as he said the last part, watching the bubbles come up.

“no i’m okay. why would i be upset at you?” you looked up, his eyes still avoiding you which makes you just want to tell him how you felt already.

he bites his lip, then turns his head to face you. you can’t seem to read the look on his face, the same as earlier’s. he just shrugs. “i don’t know y/n, i just thought,” he shakes his head and closes his eyes.

and you already knew.

you took your tank top off and got in the tub completely now. the two of you sat at opposite sides of the hot tub.

“do you remember how we first met?” he asks you, opening his eyes to look at you.

you nod, waiting for him to continue.

“you asked me for help on the chemistry computation and you were so happy when i said yes,”

“and you even offered to tutor me for free,” you smile at the memory. “it was freshman year; i knew no one in class cause i enrolled late and everyone seemed to like you for some reason.” you teased, and he shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“yeah, well, what can i say, i’m a nice dude.” he joked, which made you roll your eyes and scoff jokingly. “uh, well, on that same day, i told marcus you were really pretty.” he avoided your eyes once again, and you just blinked at him.

“since then, i’ve liked you. i liked you when we were partnered up for projects, i liked you even when you made comments about my frat, i liked you when you’d give me massages when i’d get back pains, liked you even when you dated your ex and cried a whole week over the break-up,” he listed down which made you blush. it felt like he could go on and on the whole night with the list.

your gaze softened as he smiled at you.

“what i’m trying to say is, it’s always been you.” his breath hitches in his throat, the weight on his shoulders now gone after telling you what he truly felt.

the two of you looked at each other for a moment before you moved to where he was seated until you were in between his legs. the tension between the two of you could be cut by a knife. you take a breath before speaking up.

“i like you too lu.” you place a hand on his cheek and carress it. he smiles at you before grabbing your leg and wrapping it around his torso, now you were face to face with each other. the light from the pool, shining on your faces.

“there’s no one like you, y/n.” he whispers before crashing his lips onto yours.

the kiss started off slow and steady, his hands slowly moving up from your legs to your waist while you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, trying to get him closer to your body if that was even possible at your current position.

your lips were moving in sync, tilting your head a bit as you start to feel his tongue trying to slip in. once he does, he glides one of his hands to your ass, squeezing it a bit before placing it on top of his straining bulge.

he moves your hips as his tongue explores your mouth. you moan into the kiss, fingers finding its way to his curly hair and tugging on it softly.

never would you have expected this to happen during your trip, but at the same time, this is all you've wanted.

he's the first to pull away, leaning his head on your forehead, still keeping your bodies close to each other. the both of you try to catch your breath.

you giggle a little as you place your hands on each side of his face, caressing his cheeks before placing pecks on his moles and then his lips.

"come on, let's continue this in my room."

lmk if u wanna be added to the taglist!!

[dollesung]

SWEET VENOM .ᐟ

PAIRING. jake x fem reader. GENRE. nsfw. REQUESTED? no. WORD COUNT. 3.9k. SYNOPSIS. your inexperienced virgin of a best friend, jake, tries to ask you for sex advice. WARNINGS. sub!jake, dom!reader, mentions of sex, alcohol & drugs, a little dialogue heavy, inexperienced jake, reader is the same age as jake, handjob, corruption kink, kind of dubcon (but not really). minors do not interact.

NOTE. this is my first sub!enha work. english is not my first language. please bear with me. send requests thru my asks please.

Jake knew he wasn’t really that much of an experienced guy when it came to sex.

Although he was smart, maybe only academically, he really did pride himself on being more on the intelligent spectrum. Top of his class, graduated valedictorian, and was voted most likely to become the president someday, Jake was an absolute unit.

But when it came to sex? He was a clueless virgin.

He was already twenty-two, almost a college graduate, and yet here he was, with absolutely little to no knowledge of how to "do the deed," as one might say.

In his defense, sex was never really a priority.

He spent most of his teenage years studying, being a high school scholar, and all. In the off chance that he wasn't, Jake was usually doing extracurricular activities or helping his folks out at home. He did have a social life, but most of the people he hung out with were co-academics, people who focused more on being a good student, the kind your parents would love for you to hang out with.

MORE UNDER THE CUT.

Enter you, his best friend.

The two of you really personify the phrase "opposites attract" as you and Jake could be no more different from one another. The two of you were friends since childhood, as your families were next-door neighbors for years.

If Jake was academically inclined, let's just say you weren't.

You were a bit of a rebel. From a young age, you'd learned how to sneak out of your house to attend a party you weren't allowed to attend. You spent your entire high school life defying your parents and hanging out with the wrong people. Most of your friends were delinquents just like you, and you spent most days skipping classes and drinking alcohol you bought from convenience stores using a fake ID.

Of course, Jake was the only proper friend you had.

Despite attending two different universities in college, the two of you would always make an effort to catch up whenever you were both home, mostly during summer breaks or the holidays.

Like now, for example.

It was summer break for the two of you, one of your last ones, since both of you were graduating in a couple of months. You invited Jake over, with the promise of some cheap beer you smuggled from your dad’s stash in the kitchen, and a whole semester’s worth of stories to share.

“—so, we were in the sidewalk, and a fuckin’ police car comes around the corner,” you were in the middle of telling Jake the story of how you almost got arrested for the nth time. He’s sitting on your bed with a bottle in hand, quietly listening to you yap.

You’re sat on a chair by the bed, facing Jake. You’ve also got a bottle in your hand, but unlike Jake, this one isn’t your first beer of the night.

You continue your story. “I start running away, and Yujin and the others start running away, but Mark was still pissing at the side of the road so we had to fuckin’ drag the fucker while he was peeing, seriously I couldn’t stop laughing.”

Jake laughs at your story with you, taking sips of his beer as you talked. You remember the day you taught him how to drink. He was a month away from turning 18, and yet you managed to convince him to try alcohol for the first time. You were proud of yourself that day.

The conversation ends and a moment of silence passes. You place your now empty bottle on your desk table, before crossing your legs and facing Jake once more.

“Sooo,” you began, dragging the last syllable. “How about you? What’s new in your life?”

This was the routine for you two. You’d talk about your lives, what you guys did during the times you weren’t together. Most of the time, Jake's stories would be about how he aced his recent exams or how fun their university's events were. Sometimes he'd tell weird ones, like the story of how mold grew in their communal kitchen, or when a professor got food poisoning and nearly shat himself mid-lecture.

Meanwhile, you're almost always telling him stories of your adventures, about the times when you nearly got arrested or even hospitalized. Jake would lecture you often, of course, but he never attempted to genuinely stop you. In a way, you knew he lived vicariously through you.

"Nothing much," Jake shrugs. "Just the usual shit."

You scowl, "You're no fun." You grab a pillow from the bed and playfully attempt to hit him.

"Whaaat?" He laughs, avoiding your blow.

"You never tell me anything!" You complain.

As much as you knew how much of a nerd Jake was, a part of you knew he wasn't that boring. You remember one summer, a few years back when Jake told you the story of how he nearly got into a fight with a senior from his university.

"There's nothing to tell!" Jake defends himself. Then, a pause, before his face contorts. “Okay, maybe there is something…”

“I knew it!” You yelp, climbing from your chair to the mattress. “Tell me.”

Jake, scratches his nape, looking visibly awkward. The boy barely gets embarrassed, at least with you, but right now his face looks the lightest bit of rosy, which intrigues you more.

“Okay, fine,” Jake submits. It takes him another moment to respond. “There’s this girl…”

“Oh my god,” you exaggerate. “Finally!”

“The hell you mean, finally?!” Jake exasperatedly complains.

“You never talk about girls with me,” you huff. “I was starting to think you weren’t interested in women.”

“I am interested, I just don’t talk about it,” with a roll of his eyes, he places the beer bottle on your nightstand. “And it’s really nothing!”

“Just tell me,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“Okay, fine,” Jake clears his throat, licking his lips in preparation. “She’s from the cheering squad—“

“Ooh, a cheerleader, you bad boy!” You taunt, playfully hitting him on the knee.

“Are you gonna let me tell the story?” He raises his brow, tired of your teasing.

“Okay, sorry, sorry. Continue.”

“I’ve kinda liked her since junior year? I don’t usually see her ‘cause she’s from a different program but last semester she was in my politics class,” Jake continues after a pause, “We sat next to each other, and we started to just talk, and she’s really cool…”

“Did you guys fuck?” You asked brazenly.

“No! Not yet—“

“Yet?!” You gasp. “So you have a plan?”

“I don’t know!” Jake was absolutely flushed by now, his face red as he buries it in his hands in embarrassment.

You try not to laugh at how adorable he was. Your other friends were usually as, if not more, shameless as you. Talking about sex, alcohol and even drugs weren’t a rare occurrence. But with Jake, it’s like everything you talk about flustered him.

“Do you want to?” You ask him after a moment. “To fuck her. I mean.”

Jake takes his face out of his hands, but keeps his head hung low. He starts fiddling with the fabric of his trousers. He once again gives you a shrug. “Maybe, I-I don’t know…”

You tsk. “There’s nothing wrong if you want to! What if this girl wants to get into your pants, too?”

Jake’s entire face grows even redder, if that were even humanly possible. He grabs a pillow from your mattress and buries his face in it, grumbling about something you couldn’t understand.

You gently pry the pillow away from his face. “Seriously, Jake. What’s wrong in trying to get yourself laid?”

“I dunno,” he huffs. “I never thought I’d ever want to.”

“All guys want to get laid at one point, even you,” you argue.

“I don’t even know how,” Jake complains. “Like… how to approach her, how to kiss her or what, it’d be so embarrassing!”

“Well, what do you wanna know?” You ask him. “You can always ask me.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow. “Wouldn’t that be…”

“Embarrassing?” You fill for him. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers. Is there anything left to be embarrassed about?

“I guess not,” Jake pauses for a bit, as if he’s giving it some thought. “Okay, fine.��

Evening flies by, you and Jake have been in the same position for over an hour. He spent the entire time asking you (what in your opinion are,) basic sex questions. He started of by asking how to approach a woman, before leading more raunchier questions, like how to make out with a girl, and what to do when receiving a blowjob.

“You need to hold her hair up in a ponytail, like this,” you exhibit by taking all of your hair in your hands. “You try it.”

“What, on you?” Jake asks.

“It’s just hair, Jake,” you roll your eyes. “Go on.”

Reluctantly, Jake reaches out to take over, holding all of your hair in one hand. He’s gentle, trying not to tug too much in fear of hurting you.

“Good job,” you offer as praise. “You need to keep that grip while she’s sucking you off. Makes it easier for her to get her hair out of the way.”

“Okay,” Jake supplies. He’s taking all of this pretty well, despite being a little conscious. You’re not all that surprised, seeing as this is Jake. You give this man any type of instructions and he’ll follow through with no issue.

He drops your hair as you pull away. Both of you are still sat on your bed, facing each other.

“Anything else you want to ask?” You pry.

“Um,” You can see Jake swallow, probably hyping himself up to ask you a specific question. “About the, um… the actual,, thing…”

“What about it?” You ask.

Jake takes a deep breath. “You’ve just been teaching me about like, other stuff, what about the actual sex part?”

Granted, you’ve just been teaching him about the basics, kissing, foreplay, blowjobs, but you never really thought you had to teach him about sex.

Jake really was that innocent.

You let out a puff of air. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jake. You just kinda.. y’know, put it in.”

Jake’s face scrunches in distaste. “Won’t it hurt?”

“For her, yeah maybe. ‘specially if you’re packing. Haven’t you like.. watched porn before?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Jake shakes his head. “No. I told you, I never thought I’d be interested in this.”

Poor Jake. You sigh, trying to think of something that can provide Jake any assistance. You can make him watch porn now, but knowing how inaccurate those are, it’d probably be more of a disaster to make Jake watch. A quick Google search could help, but written instructions for something so… complicated would probably also provide little to no help.

Just then, you get an idea.

“You know what,” you begin. “Why don’t I just show you?”

Jake blinks. “Huh.”

“Let me show you how to have sex. It’s easier that way, and you can pretend it’s just practice.” You say.

If there was a world record for how fast a person can turn red in a blink of an eye, Jake would have won it by now. It takes a moment for the cogs in his brain to load, and for the words to make it past his mouth. “I-I… are you serious?”

You nod. “Absolutely serious.”

Jake, absolutely gobsmacked by your suggestion, just stares at your face. “Won’t it be…”

“Embarrassing?” You repeat your earlier response with a smirk. “I told you already, there’s no need to be embarrassed with me.”

After a few seconds of thought, Jake nods his head.

Moments pass. You’ve taken the liberty to tidy up the bed a little before your… endevours with Jake begin. He’s now sat on your chair, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

You finish gathering all of the empty beer bottles in a corner by your door. You stack the pillows neatly by the headboard, before sitting in the middle of your king-sized bed, facing Jake.

His head is still hung low, but every once in a while he glances at you. When you’re finished tidying, he gives you an awkward look.

You pat the space in front of you. “Come sit.”

He follows, climbing on the bed and sitting adjacent to you. He’s still awkward, but you can tell from his face alone that he really wants to learn.

“You sure you want to do this?” You ask.

Jake nods, and you see him anxiously fiddling with his fingers again. “I do.”

“If you want to stop, you just tell me, okay?” You expressed. Jake nods again.

You scooch forward until both of your knees touch, before leaning in close to grab Jake by the neck, pulling him into a kiss. You can feel the heat from his skin through your fingers, and yet his lips feel soft against yours.

He’s gentle with it, but it takes a minute for him to relax and sink into the kiss. Soon enough you feel him slouch against you, his hands ever so lightly gripping your shoulders.

You knew you weren’t his first kiss, but he still lacks the experience to take the lead, so you run your tongue against his bottom lip, before slipping it in his open mouth.

He freezes, unsure of what to do, and before any of you can act, Jake accidentally bites down on your tongue.

“Ah, shit,” you hiss, pulling away in pain.

“S-Sorry—!” Jake tries to apologize.

“It’s fine,” you laugh. “But remember to be ready next time.”

Jake nods, and you lean towards him again. Jake expects another kiss but you go for his neck, lightly kissing the expanse of his skin.

“Always start slow,” you teach between kisses, “Don’t rush into it.”

Jake gives a small nod, letting you kiss your way back to his lips. This time, he’s much more relaxed, and he doesn’t bite when you slip your tongue in. He hums through the kiss, unconsciously leaning in for more.

When you pull away for air, you begin repositioning yourself on the bed. “You can sit in front of each other just like this, or…” you trail off, hopping off of the mattress and into Jake’s lap, “you can sit her on your lap.”

In this position, you’re looking down on Jake, and he’s looking right back up. His neck is craned, probably uncomfortably, but he’s looking at you with doe eyes, absorbing everything you’re doing and saying. His hands are on your waist, and you can feel the warmth of his body due to your proximity.

You find yourself clearing your throat, feeling your mouth dry a little. You try not to think too hard as you press your lips against Jake’s one more time.

This kiss is shorter this time, as you pull away to trail open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his neck, your lips find their way below Jake’s ear, and you feel him shudder.

“You can give her a hickey, if she’s okay with that,” you whisper.

“H-How?” Jake mutters.

“Like this,” you hum before sucking the skin right below Jake’s ear, hard enough to leave a mark.

“A-Ah—!” Taken by surprise, Jake reacts. His hand finds its way to your hair, but he’s not quite sure if he should pull you off to make you stop, or push you further to let you continue.

You run your tongue at the spot, pressing a chaste kiss. Seeing the reddish mark, you smirk in pride.

You continue kissing his neck as your hands trail downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt. You pull away to tug it off of him, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Your hands continue down to his trousers, as you unbutton and zip them while you mark another lovebite by his clavicle.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Jake makes a move to hide himself in his hands, but not without you pulling them away. Instead, you push him forward, letting his back hit the mattress.

“Don’t cover yourself,” you mumble. “You’re gorgeous.”

Now even more embarrassed, Jake whines once he feels your hands running all over him, over his neck, his chest, his thighs. You toy with the edge of his boxers, aware of the bulge of his cock printing through the fabric.

Unable to help yourself, you take the palm of your hand and press it against his hard-on, humming in satisfaction as he jolts up.

“Oh—!” Jake yelps.

“Feels good?” You ask.

Jake nods fervently. You take the time to take off his boxers, watching his half hard cock spring from its confinement. You give yourself a minute to stare, watching as your best friend, flushed from head to toe, stares at you with such a debauched expression.

“I know I’m supposed to be teaching you,” you begin, wrapping a hand around his cock as you speak. “But I can’t stop myself.”

“S-Stop yourself?” He repeats. “F-From what?”

You never responded, instead you began moving your hand up and down Jake’s cock in high speed, watching as the boy begins shaking, eyes widening and mouth open in a silent cry.

“Wait— fuck!” Jake shouts, his hand reaching out for your wrist but not pulling or pushing you away. His thighs try to close themselves around you, but your other hand is quick to spread them open again. “Please, w-wait!”

You feel a little evil, but you can’t stop, not when Jake continues to make the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. The pace of your strokes don’t slow, and you begin to twist your palm at the base of his cock, watching as precum accumulates on the tip.

“Ngh, fu-uhck—!” Jake moans, back arching from the bed. His hands are gripping the sheets below him, eyes shut as the pleasure shoots through his spine. “Oh, [name], puh, please—!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Please wait, Jake?”

You half expect him to tell you to stop or at least slow down, but he doesn’t respond. His legs give out and you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head. A hand on his thigh alerts you that he’s still shaking, his face contorting in pleasure.

So, instead of being merciful, you continue teasing him instead, “Feels good, Jakey?”

He nods his head so fast you’re afraid he might get neck pain. Your hand continues to stroke his cock at a brisk pace. His precum is leaking everywhere, allowing for extra lubrication as you continue.

“S-So good—!” Jake replies, “Please—“

You’re not even sure what Jake’s begging for, and you doubt Jake does either. You continue stroking for another minute, before your pace slows to a halt.

“N-No, please—“ Jake whines, “W-Why stop…?”

“You’re here to learn how to fuck, aren’t you?” You tease as you begin ridding yourself of your clothes.

Jake, both unsure of what to do with himself, but also at a trance, finds himself staring at your form. He can’t help but to stare at your breasts as you chuck your bra and the rest of your clothes to the floor.

“Like what you see?” You joke, positioning yourself back on his lap. Jake nods, breathlessly staring up at you.

You take some time to lean by your nightstand, blindly rummaging through your drawer for a condom. Once you finally found one, you tear the packet and grab the piece of latex, sliding the rubber down Jake’s cock.

“Usually, I don’t let guys fuck me without fingering me first,” you say as you position yourself. “But let’s say you’re an exception.”

You begin to sink down on Jake’s cock, eyeing the man’s face as it once again contorts in pleasure. You hiss a little at the intrusion, given that you weren’t stretched, but you were so unbelivably wet that Jake’s cock slipped in the rest of the way with no problem.

The two of you gasp once you sat with your ass flush against Jake’s thighs, feeling him fill you up in all the right places. Though he wasn’t the biggest you’ve had, his girth still had your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck,” you curse.

Jake couldn’t agree more. His hands shakily grip the sides of your hips as he tries to stabilize himself. The feeling of your pussy gripping down his cock was probably one of the most intense feelings he’s ever had.

You take Jake’s face in your hands and press your lips together in a messy kiss. Jake tried to reciprocate as best as he could, but feeling your cunt clench down on his cock had him feeling dizzy.

After a while, you pull away, “‘m gonna start moving.”

You don’t wait for a reply before you began moving your hips, grinding against Jake’s lap, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jake’s cock.

“O-Oh my god,” Jake has his eyes shut, his back against the headboard as he gripped your hips for dear life. “[name]—“

“Yeah?” You hummed, starting to pick up the pace as you bounced on his cock. “‘s good, hm?”

Jake nods, “S-So fuckin’ good.”

You continued to bounce on his lap, your hands gripping his shoulders as you do so. The feeling of Jake’s cock pushing in and out of you was so goddamn addicting, you’ve never had anything like it.

The coil in your gut was tightening with every thrust, like it would burst at any moment. You took a moment to look at Jake, who was now staring at your every move, mouth open as he kept making those delicious noises.

“F-Feels so good, oh god,” Jake groans.

“Yeah, Jakey?” You can’t help but moan, “You’re so fucking cute—“

Jake tries to shake his head, but he can no longer respond. There’s a tightening in his abdomen that keeps growing by the minute, his entire body is shaking, and his moans are growing louder at every thrust.

“You gonna cum?” You ask, bracing your hands behind you as you quicken your pace. “Gonna cum in me, Jakey? Gonna cum in my pussy?”

Jake cries out at the thought, hands returning to your hips. “Fuck, please, c-can I?”

You smirk, feeling yourself growing closer. “Please what?”

“C-Cum, please,” Jake gasps, trying his hardest not to burst without permission. “C-Can I— fuuuuck, cum i-in you, p-please?”

You hum, wrapping your hands around Jake’s neck and pulling him close, “Cum, Jakey.”

Jake’s moans grow loud as he bursts, cumming into the condom inside of you. It takes only three more thrusts before you’re cumming alongside him, your entire body shaking as you hold on to the boy.

A minute passes, then two. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath. You gently move off of Jake’s lap, his cock slipping out of your cunt as you do so. You slip off the used condom, tying it before chucking it into the trash beside your bed.

Jake is already lying down, face up against the ceiling. You collapse beside him, still trying to catch your breath from your orgasm.

“That was…” Jake tries to say, but you just shake your head.

“Save your post-sex comments for your cheerleader girlfriend,” you tease, trying to ease the tension.

Jake turns to the side to face you. “I don’t think I wanna talk to her anymore.”

You eye him from the side, with an eyebrow raised. “You sure ‘bout that?”

Jake merely grabs you by the waist, pulling you close before burying his face in your neck. “‘m sure.” He mumbles.

You’re not too opposed to it, either.

NOTE. ngl this one kinda sucks but i decided to post it anyway. please do send in requests! thanks.

© dollesung 2025

[tragic-ships-tournament]

Tragic Ships Tournament Quarter Finals

Propaganda under the cut!

Enjoltaire:

"Okay so the whole thing with them is that Enjolras is like the leader of the Les Amis; he believes in the revolution in his heart and soul and his being. He is a shining beacon of hope like Victor Hugo calls him Apollo in the book. He believes in freedom and in the future and that beyond the barricade, there's a new tomorrow waiting for them. Grantaire, on the other hand, doesn't believe in anything. He's a drunk and a cynic and he doesn't believe in that new tomorrow. If nothing had something to offer, Grantaire would stop believing in nothing. When he offers to do something to help the Les Amis, he gets distracted and drunk and I think he ends up playing dominoes? It might have been cards. Anyway, that's Grantaire. BUT Grantaire believes in ONE thing. And that ONE thing is ENJOLRAS. No matter how cynical and pessimistic Grantaire is, he believes in Enjolras. If Enjolras is Apollo, Grantaire is Icarus flying ever closer to him. And then at the end. When their revolution has failed and they are facing down the barrel of guns. Grantaire gets up and stands next to Enjolras and asks if he can hold his hand so that they can die together, and they do. It's heartbreaking and heart wrenching and Icarus brings the sun down with him as he falls."

Madohomu:

"madoka magica aired 12 episodes in 2011, with a sequel movie titled “rebellion” released in 2014. it’s been over 10 years since then, and these two have become the face of yuri. if someone makes a meme about loving yuri and makes a collage of example ships, madohomu are 100% gonna be present. video essays, fanart, fics, music videos and all kinds of fan projects featuring them are still wildly popular on all social media platforms.

but let’s talk about them (without going into too many spoilers, so this will be about the thematics in their relationship). they are light and darkness. the ying and the yang. forever intertwined. one would not exist without the other, yet they cannot exist together. for madoka has too much love for every living thing and too little for herself. and homura has too much love for madoka it blinds her to everything and everyone else, and she struggles with deep self-hatred. madoka has forsaken her own existence for the world, and homura has forsaken the world she created for her. the show has a lot of religious imagery, and madoka is akin to a god; there’s a shot of homura, who grew up catholic, kneeling at the feet of a gigantic statue of madoka, praying, but her hands stain her clothes. because if madoka is god, then homura is lucifer - specifically, iblis, the muslim version of lucifer, who loved god so much he betrayed him, for he’d rather defy him than bow to his creation, humans. and homura would rather defy the sanctity of madoka’s wish, rather than obey its laws, for she will take madoka’s happiness in her hands, if she refuses to. in the movie, dolls representing homura’s inner machinations yell, “gott ist tot”, for homura’s god, madoka, dies in the movie, when homura remembers that madoka was human first, and godhood was something she reached to save everyone, against her best interest and happiness. their relationship is one of love, kindness, obsession, devotion, hope, faith, worship - they are the thesis and the antithesis, the beginning and the end, the alpha and omega, an unstoppable force and an immovable object. forever locked in a struggle, never fully embracing, for madoka will always sacrifice herself for the world, and homura will always doom the world and herself for madoka."